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THE FLIP-OFF I'm not just bragging when I say this girl gets around Mile-high club aside, I'm a platinum card carrying member of pretty much every other travel-related program out there. In the name of corporate conquest, I've become a genuine global citizen, with the inky passport pages to prove it. Taking care of business literally takes me around the world, and along the way, I've more or less mastered the unspoken language of the meet and greet. I can always come up with the correct kiss count thanks to time well spent in conference rooms across "the continent," and attending summits in sultry South America (beware Brazilrocking Rio de Janeiro gets two kisses, but stuffy São Paulo only one!). Thanks to assorted Asian adventures, my bows score high marks for both technical and artistic merit. And of course I own the NYC-UK-LA triumvirate, so I have long considered myself a connoisseur of the handshake. That is, up until last week There I was, up to my eyeballs in white bread, smack dab in the middle of Middle America, home TALES OF A WORKPLACE SINGLE Time to crack the corporate champagne and have a pillow fight! Haven't you heard? It's Single Working Woman's Week! Yeah, right. Let's get real, girlsevery week is Single Working Woman's Week. I mean, unless you are an heiress, princess or actress, most of us singletons don't really have an option at the end of the day. Single slave or single starve. Not that I'm complaining (honestly, I'd be too afraid to complain lest one of my working mother friends hear meI'd never hear the end of how little I understand about REAL pressure and REAL responsibility). I actually enjoy ruling over my own little corporate kingdom, but I think it's about time the work force recognizes that just because I'm not a mother or wife, it doesn't mean I don't have a life. Of course, I have loads of friends in the family-way, but since it's my week and all, I thought I'd celebrate with a good, old fashion bitch session. It seems every time someone needs to stay late or work weekends, we singles get the short end of the stick. There is this automatic assumption that Miss Childfree will step her stylish stiletto in to save the rest of the team, burdened as they are with more READY, SET, RETREAT! Get ready to wave the white flag and retreat. It's time for that least favorite of mid-year rituals: the corporate kumbaya, a.k.athe dreaded summer management conference. It's about this time every year that C-Suites across the country pack their pasty selves up for an ocean front view of corporate synergy. Unlike its more sober counterpart, the year-end-crap-that-means-we-gotta-seriously-start-planning-for-next-year management meeting, the mid-year retreat is supposed to be all about fun and bonding. Which means it sucks much, much more A boondoggle thinly disguised by an aggressive agenda of team building, best practices, and outdoor activity, the summer retreat might actually be fun if you were going along with a group of friends. But once you throw corporate colleagues into the mix, bonding starts to look a whole lot more like bondage. Someone always has the bright idea to plan these things at the end of the earth so you spend more time traveling than actually meeting, and with every waking moment scheduled, it's not like there is any time to explore
TRAVELER'S LAMENT
GIVING AT THE OFFICE You know the year has officially started when the Girl Scouts arrive
Down the hall they file, shyly clutching an order form with one little hand and a coworker's leg with the other. MENTOR OR TORMENTOR Mentor or tormentor? Is there really a difference? Seriously, how did I miss the mentor memo? Not even a cc for me while everyone else was out there pairing up, mentor and mentee
MEMO TO MEN CORPORATE SPEAK GIMME A BREAK
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Women Behaving Badly>> Elevating Your Business Game>>
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