Department of Corrections

Although it sounds more like gerbil rage than Whitman prose or Viking roar, about once a week, I use mkromd to sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world. Too bad the only people who read it are the ones who personally know me and love me regardless (and have heard all of it before) but indulge me anyway because I mercilessly badger them until they break down and comply. That said, being the totally shallow human being that I am, I’m completely OK with that… Because, you see, I really need/want to analytically dominate the Indonesian Blog, ketwawa lucu, and each visitor gets me one step closer to victory.

In other words, I want to break our international stalemate of five followers each.

Now, please understand something. I am immeasurably grateful for the five of you that I have. I honestly and sincerely appreciate each person and his or her time; however, there is one reader whom I simply cannot imagine a world without. Enter my oldest and dearest friend on this planet, MA. May each of you have a friend just like her - that person from college who you love instantly and stay close to - all of your life… the keeper of your memories and your secrets… and the one who was there for every adult-oriented, life-changing event that has ever happened to you. Grad school… first marriage… first job. Children being born… parents passing away. Divorce… second job… second marriage. The friend you cannot call to bail you out of prison because she’s in the cell beside you. Yes, that friend. And I’d like to introduce her into the cast of characters that are mkromd regulars. Because… in a way, this whole blog/site is her fault.

But, as always, before I can tell you that part of the story, I have to tell you this part first.

When MA and I met, almost two decades ago, we were not only broke grad students (who happened to be neighbors), she also became my boss (who let me share her office). I was doing my MBA in Marketing at the time and desperately needed a job… and she was an Editor who had just finished her Master’s Degree in Communications and kind-of needed a Technical Writer. Whether it was out of pity or love is irrelevant, she hired me, and the rest – as they say – is history. She honestly taught me everything I know about business writing… the hard way. Because, she may have the face of a Botticelli angel, but she swears like a sailor and edits like Chuck Norris. No lie, she once had a staring contest with a manual that I wrote for her, and I swear… the book blinked before she did.

This is a woman who once beat me with my own edits. Really. She actually rolled up the document and beat me with it (knowing that I bruise like a peach, but I'm not bitter). When I told her, “I have the right to be comfortable in my place of employment,” she simply replied, “So do I and this kind of shitty writing puts me on edge. Fix it.” Clearly, this is why I love her to bits and wouldn't trade or change her for all of the tea in China. She’s a great editor, who is an even better writer, but she is also a fabulous support structure, human being, and friend. And... since I know she's reading this, let me say this to her directly: Please don't beat me for the typos in this post.

On that note, I won’t be talking to you next week. I’ll be hitting the slopes instead. Talk to you the week after.