Portrait of an Assistant

Ever feel like you're not someone who you wanted to be? In this year-plus I have been in the working world, I have cultivated many myths of me around the office. They seem to be believe that I am a lush. A great events organizer. Stalker. And computer whiz. None of these things are true and I'm not sure how they came to be either. Then there is Whitecastle, the more he describes me, the more I wonder and worry what he thinks of me.

Whitecastle, commenting on a web short making fun of Palin: It's that same cynical world view, and you can't tell if they're joking or not sense of humor that you have.

A cynic with an obscure sense of humor. And oh, it gets better. Earlier today:

Moi: I'm looking for someone who can help me find the contact information for the nursing program [from the University of Puerto Rico website]. Can you read Spanish?

Whitecastle: This should be a hint that you shouldn't be looking for schools in Puerto Rico.

Moi: Why would I look these up for funsies? I have to compile a list.

Whitecastle: I don't know, you like weird things. Anyway, Spanish is a lot like English, I could probably figure it out. Like this [points to Programas Internacionales]-

Moi: Thank you, I figured that that said international program, too... yes, I tried clicking that, too, that doesn't work.

Whitecastle: Well. That's why you're a research assistant. You figure this out.

I like weird things. I may or may not be intuitive enough to figure out obvious cognates. And it's my job to spend lots of time figuring out things people don't have time for. Awesome.

(Was this entry a little too bitter? I don't mean for it to be. I got my first paper accepted, free chips and a burrito, all because of Whitecastle this week.)