June 19, 2007 | Filed under: Because They Pay Me, The California Adventure, The Fam

Y’all. I am beyond exhausted, and yet I’m sitting here blogging when I could be asleep. Sadly, this is going to be short and only by way of explaining where I’ve been all week.

Last week was a crazy hellish week at work, filled to the brim with meetings. (Example: on Tuesday I had a meeting from 10 to 4, another one from 1 to 4, and someone else requested a 2pm. After I finished laughing so hard I cried, I made them reschedule for Wednesday.) And what better way to top off a crazy hellish work week than to have your parents arrive for their annual visit that weekend? Exactly. I spent all weekend prepping for their arrival: cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, baking a lemon meringue pie for Father’s Day (my dad’s favorite), etc.

Since then, I’ve spent the week trying to not be fired, while at the same time trying to entertain them. I love them dearly and am happy they made the trip out here, but I don’t think my parents appreciate the extent to which my saying “I have work to do” means “I have work to do; please leave me alone” and not “I have work to do, but instead please engage me in conversation and then let’s have some pie and coffee and then we’ll …” Sleep was the first thing to go, followed rapidly by zillions of brain cells, and lastly, my patience.

I’m headed to bed now. Tomorrow will be better. And if it’s not, I can always throw myself off the top of Half Dome.

June 10, 2007 | Filed under: Because They Pay Me, Good Things Come to Those Who Are Impatient Whiners, The California Adventure

Well, this was supposed to be more thoughtful and much less slapdash, write-something-before-I-fall-asleep-like, but Lori e-mailed me a question about wine and I had to write back a tome with more disclaimers than actual recommendations, but my gosh I feel it is my duty to counteract the unfortunate damage done to Merlot’s reputation, thanks to that horrid, horrid (though thoroughly entertaining) movie. Merlot is lovely! There are some terrific merlots out there! Find one! Love one!

Anyway.

Five years ago today, I began my first Real Job. One with a salary and a health plan and paid vacation days and everything. I was thinking this would be a two-year gig. They made me an offer requiring a three year commitment. OK, three years it is! I’d been planning on taking a leisurely vacation between school and starting work, because when would I ever have the time again? They pushed to get me in the door ASAP, so in less than three weeks I found an apartment to sublet, landed a roommate to look for a permanent place with, packed up and moved halfway across the country. I didn’t do any real work until August, and I still haven’t made it to Puerto Rico for two weeks on the beach. Let that be a lesson: Forget work; take the damn vacation.

Obviously, my three years have turned into five, and every day I worry that 25 years from now I’ll be telling you about the lovely plaque they gave me at my retirement party, along with the touching tributes and the congratulatory sheet cake from Costco. That, I fear, is The Inevitable. Or one of the potential inevitables in my life.

And, in a move that does absolutely nothing to prevent that inevitability from occurring, nor does it further my goal of returning to the East Coast, they just offered me a promotion. And I accepted. Because when it comes to managing my career, I have a mantra, and that mantra is: If Someone Hands You a Promotion and Throws More Money at You for Doing Essentially the Same Amount of Work, Take It. I think I picked that one up from Dale Carnegie, but you’re welcome to it.

The long and short of it, then, is that despite all of my efforts to change things, The Universe has spoken: I am apparently doing what I am supposed to be doing right now. And I’m OK with that pretending to be OK with that. I don’t have time for Puerto Rico these days, but a case of Merlot should help the cause.

June 6, 2007 | Filed under: Is She Still Talking?, The California Adventure

Oh, suburbs, how I hate thee.

With your low-density housing,
asphalt-paved boulevards
and endless strip malls.

I curse the need to drive everywhere,
the utter lack of public transportation.
Or sidewalks, even.

The abundant new construction,
cookie-cutter houses, and scrawny trees
make my heart weep.

But, damn, do I like being able to run four errands over my lunch hour.

May 26, 2007 | Filed under: Is She Still Talking?, The California Adventure

Not yet visible: the splotchy sunburn I got while washing the car in this top. Awesome.

Whoops. Little too much outdoor exposure yesterday without any sunscreen. Convenient, as I have a fancy-schmancy birthday dinner to attend tonight and just about everything in my closet is strapless or halter-style. Halter dress it is! It should help to camouflage the sunburn nicely, but I know the straps are going to hurt like a mo fo. I think it’ll be a wine-as-pain-reliever sort of night, which does not bode well for tomorrow morning…

May 23, 2007 | Filed under: The California Adventure

No, I said a boy [space] friend. Not a boyfriend. Biiiiiig difference. I mean, I assume I’ll actually like someone I’m friends with.

In the last two years here I’ve managed to find myself some pretty solid girlfriends, for which I am eternally grateful. But my posse of guy friends? That has not yet materialized. Sure, there’s no shortage of men at work, but, honestly, that doesn’t cut it. I had dinner tonight with three of them, all 45, plus or minus. It was … nice, but … well, just not the same. People, we talked about their wives and children and summer vacation plans. I’m getting desperate here. I need more.

Wanted: Male(s), 25-35, for shooting the shit, drinking beer, non-stop verbal abuse and the occasional road trip. Must like sports. Ability to discuss taboo subjects such as politics, religion and how hot Britney used to be a plus. Race not important. Please be single or firmly established in a long-term relationship; no room for jealous girlfriends here. Bonus points for having hot, single friends and/or being a Chicago Bears/Bulls/Cubs/Sox fan. My respective Wisconsin teams will kick your ass. Serious inquiries only.