I tried to log on last night and Xanga couldn't find my page ... good to know it was a temporary glitch and not something major. I don't put a lot of effort into this blog, but I'd still be sad if it disappeared.

So not a whole lot to report, but something weird happened at work today I thought I'd share. I get this call about 5ish asking where our offices are, so I tell the voice, thinking it was this woman who left her reading glasses at the workshop we had last week, and she says "thanks" and hangs up. About half an hour later, this woman-- not the one I was expecting -- storms in and hands me this envelope and lectures me about how our website has the wrong address and we should change it 'cause she went all the way up to 12th St and "it really ruined her day."

OK ...
1) The offices moved two months ago, and if she knew anything about NYU, she'd know almost everyone's changed offices in the last three months.
2)If she called me after she got to 12th St, when it was already 5 on a Friday, when many offices close early, why didn't she call us in the first place to see if we were even there (she's just lucky we stick around until 6) and we could have straightened it out.
3)If she wants to find us the budget money to hire a new web guy she can go right ahead.

But, I didn't say anything, other than "Sorry, we lost our web guy" and gritting my teeth. Then I refer her to E, because the thing she's brought is an application for funding from a grant that I don't deal with, and go back to "work." (It was a very slow day ... this consisted of browsing at Forgotten New York)

A little while later, E comes over to my desk and asks me if the woman said anything when she handed me the application. I tell her she didn't -- other than griping me out about the website. Apparently, this woman's grant application is a direct copy of a successful application that's posted on our website (ironic, no?) as a guide -- with the specifics changed to reflect a different event. E might not have noticed except the Inept Plagurizer (by which name she shall be known, henceforth, as punishment for her evil deeds) had missed replacing the event in one of the last paragraphs, setting alarm bells off in E's brain.

Maybe it's just me, but if I was trying to pull a fast one on a grant committee, I'd sure as hell not call attention to myself by chewing out the staff. I'd also probably send the application by campus mail so they wouldn't know what I looked like.

Follow-ups next week, after my boss returns from his conference and decides what to do about the Inept Plagurizer.

Moral: It pays to be nice. It also pays to write your own grant application.