Monthly Archives: June 2006

Things That Suck

I usually look forward to Fridays. Not only are they the last day of the workweek, but my boss leaves between 11 & 12 Friday mornings, leaving me alone in the office the rest of the day.

I can’t tell you how much I get done when she’s not here. So much work & non-work all gets accomplished on Friday afternoons because she’s not talking to me every 5 minutes, asking me to help write emails for her, or just fucking talking. SHUT UP already.

I don’t care about your fucking dead cat. It was sad 4 months ago when it happened. No one cares about your fucking cat anymore except for you.

Ahem…anyways. (Also the humming! Stop the humming or I will kill you. No – please don’t start singing. That’s just as bad. How could one person be so fucking tone deaf?)

(Sorry about the language mom & dad)

So, this morning I got into work a bit earlier than usual, because I knew we had a lot to accomplish before the boss left at noon. And she told me that she’d decided to not only stay all day today, but all day next Friday as well. And, she’d stayed all day last Friday. And on the 9th. I think she wants me to fall into a deep despair and jump out of the (2nd story) window. And so far, the despair thing is totally happening.

The only thing I like about my job is Friday afternoons (and the good it’s doing for my résumé).

So, now my day is ruined.

At least there will be a martini tonight. And sleeping in (until nine, maybe!) tomorrow.

Let the wedding gifting begin…

I really, really need one of these. I wonder if there is anyway to register solely for “As Seen On TV” products?

Holy Shit!

Although I can’t actually talk about my work (because I value my professional future), I can’t tell anyone details, but this week is insane.

And now I have to a write a letter to a government official who is commonly mistaken for a monkey and whose last name is a synonym for chaparral. A letter that he will read. I mean, I’ve written letters to top government officials before, because I am an angry person with many issues, but never one that was guaranteed to be read by the person to whom it was addressed.

And probably? I will never be able to use this letter in my portfolio, because of the sensitivity, but if it’s effective, it would be the best portfolio letter ever.

Just keep your fingers crossed that I will not have to meet with Gad (yes, that is another pseudo/syno-nym and not a real name – I am sneaky like that).

And please, send martinis. It’s going to be a long couple of days.

Exciting Weekend Activities

On Saturday, I started packing. I packed one entire box. It was very exciting. Then, I went through my closet and decided that I didn’t really want to get rid of anything, because I’ve done three purges in the last year and have apparently gotten rid of everything that is not essential.

So, that wasn’t very productive at all.

The architect worked all day because he has a free-lance project, and the client was coming to meet with him at 8 PM.

I was going out with some girlfriends.

At about eight, I kissed the architect good-bye, and went to pick up one of my friends. We went to Santa Monica, and although we were short one friend, we still managed to have a good time. They decided I needed a bachelorette party with one stripper for each of us. I think we were down to only one stripper by the end of the evening, and I made sure they knew that I was fine without any strippers. I still haven’t recovered from my 25th birthday at Olympic Gardens in Vegas.

Much fun was had, and 2 (two!) beers a piece were finished. Which is incredibly sad and pathetic.

(that’s me on the far left)

Then, we left, because midnight (and the expiration of our parking meter) was fast approaching. As we walked back to the car, I saw a very interesting sight:

The photo doesn’t really do it justice, but it was very very interesting. I would like to go back there during the day to re-take the photo, but not sure if I’ll ever make it.

When I returned home, the architect was sad, for not only did his client not show up, but didn’t even call to cancel. Which is crap. I offered to hunt the client down and kick him repeatedly in the shins, but we decided we should get the payment first.

Sunday I was tired. So, I decided to skip the usual mountain bike ride. The architect went alone. Just as he walked out the door, I said, “Call me when you need me.”

At about 2, the phone rang, interrupting my geek-fest (I was watching Buffy & playing Neverwinter Nights). It was the architect. He’d “had a little spill” and wondered if I could come pick him up – and suggested I bring the first aid kit. I packed a little first aid kit, grabbed some aspirin, and left.

Of course, I was behind every bad driver in LA, so it took me almost a half-hour to get to where he was waiting. He was pretty scraped up, as well as dirty and bloody, but didn’t look too bad. I attempted to do some first aid, but quickly realized that I didn’t bring nearly enough stuff. He refused my offer of the emergency room. Then I noticed that he was still wearing one glove (my glove, in fact, as he’d borrowed my MUCH tighter gloves that morning), and that blood was oozing through.

I told him not to take the glove off. So, about 10 minutes later, he pulled the glove off. At that point, he turned a grey-ish color. The hand was in pretty bad shape. He changed his mind about the emergency room.

I dropped him off at the ER just before 3:00 so I could find parking. We sat and sat and sat. At 3:30, another biking victim came in. He’d broken his elbow (ow!). At 4:00, the architect was sent for x-rays and finally saw a doctor. Nothing broken. No tendon damage, and no nerve damage. The gash in his hand, which did not tear the fabric of the glove, came from the impact of the bones in his hand hitting the hard ground. Yuck.

The PA got him all cleaned up and gave him three stitches. Then, a nurse came in to attempt to clean his arm up.

The worst injury is a tiny one covered by a bandage on his right hand, but his arm was much more dramatic looking. Some of the skin on his arm is gone. Some is burned black. Some is merely scraped. Pretty.

Three hours later, we were finally discharged. By now, he was starving, so we went to the closest restaurant we could: IHOP. (Six hours after my turkey burger, I was paying homage to the porcelain throne – yummy.)

So, my poor baby has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow to talk about when the stitches come out and if we will have to cancel our backpacking trip planned for next weekend.

The weekend of excitement ended with an (understatement of all time) unseasonable thunderstorm (in JUNE! with thunder! and lightning! it was confusing).

I’m almost glad it’s Monday, but the architect wants a redo on the weekend.

My New Favorite Thing

For lo! I am behind the times. But today, I went to Whole Foods to buy a few essentials, including lunch, a vanilla chai odwalla beverage (mmmm…), and sun-dried tomato-stuffed olives for martinis (trust me – very good) as I was standing in the checkout line, I saw some lip balm. My Chapstick is currently missing, so I thought, why not?

I purchased the Burt’s Bees Honey Lip Balm and it is a wonderous product. It smells like honey. And doesn’t taste like anything, which is just how I like my lip balm. I love the occasional subtle scent of honey. And my lips feel soft! And probably not just because I have applied the lip balm 30-40 times in the last hour. This stuff is better than Carmex in that little jar.

Now I want to purchase a truck load of Burt’s Bees products. Because I am completely convinced that if the lip balm is a gift from god, that everything else must be, too.

Excuse me while I shop.