More Free Gifts

Remember how my super cool clients bought me an iPod? I casually mentioned it to Spanky, who is a member of a different client group, and his response was that they had to get me something even better.

Who doesn't love a healthy competition for my attention?

Guess what I got today? A gift basket. A small one.

Laugh. Out loud. Hard. Please.

I immediately called him up to thank him for passing along the message that something better than an iPod would be the best way to bribe me into giving a shit about the work I have to do for them. And then asked him if a GIFT BASKET would fetch more on Ebay than the $65 I got for the iPod.

The consensus: decidedly NO.

There was a bottle of dry sparkling wine in it. Which I don't normally care for, but there's an architect that I could be spending all weekend in bed with, and we're going to need something to drink, so sparkling wine might just fit the bill.

But seriously: a fucking GIFT BASKET? Isn't that what you get for someone you don't like too much? And how do middle-aged lawyers assume that a basket of foofy shit like tapenade and fake champagne trumps a cute little mp3 player for a hip 29-year old event planner???

Guess who will be getting more of my attention in the new year? The people with taste, that's who.

Weeding Out the Junk

How is that no matter how much you pack up and/or throw away, there's still a plethora of shit? How is it we managed to pack up an entire kitchen in just an hour, but my bedroom has taken a week and still looks as if nothing has happened?

I've packed up roughly 8 boxes, cleared out 98% of my closet, and yet, I still feel like I could live here for an entire month and not want for anything.

Except a pair of black boots that have already arrived in their new home. Argh.

After this whole experience I might just divest myself of any and all material possessions and live the ascetic life. Except for the wardrobe part. Even though it's taken 8 suitcases to move the clothing, I had to choose between only 30 or so shirts when I went out tonight, and had a serious case of "nothing to wear-itis." So the clothes stay.

Clothes, bed, computer, tv, camera. Everything else is probably unnecessary.

Two Things #3

1. I don't like refrigerators that look like they're part of the cabinetry. That kind of decor strikes me as really odd.

2. Why does my hair look so damn great after 3 days of being unwashed? Usually after two days the curls just aren't what they used to be, and yet here I am with perfect fucking hair with nowhere to go but into the shower.

Weird.

The End Is Near

Tomorrow the first one of my childhood friends turns 30. The big 3-0.

Of course, I've known plenty of people to hit (and survive) this milestone. I was 11 when my mother celebrated her 30th birthday. A few other friends are already deep into the decade. But this is different.

Mr. Reed and I grew up together. We graduated from high school together. He's the one that gave me a kick ass present for my 24th birthday: a big black baseball bat so I could beat the shit out of people! A few years later he proposed. Kind of.

The point is that we've gone through stuff together. Way back in the day we'd ditch school to hang out in Santa Monica. Or drive up to Santa Barbara for the weekend so we could chill in a hotel room and just get drunk. Being 17 was fun.

And now we're supposed to be adults? I started the countdown over a year ago, and even though I've managed to cross a few things off the list, I don't feel like a "grown up" most of the time.

This is a weird transition period. I know Mr. Reed is having a hell of a time dealing with it. We exchanged text messages all day, just so I could tease him about tomorrow being The Big Day. Because even if we are supposed to be mature, deep inside we'll always be those 17-year-old brats.

That's a comfort.

Breaking the Cycle

I made a very important promise to myself today: no more OT.

It might seem like a no-brainer to normal people like you, but when you're a glutton for punishment you have a pathalogical work ethic like me, it's almost impossible to make this kind of shift. When you're so used to having your nose to the grindstone, throwing every bit of your soul into the task, defining yourself by the quality of your work, you just don't know any better. Life outside of the office? Is that allowed?

Fuck yeah! No more diabolical 60-hour week! No more eschewing a social life for the ball and chain that is my desk! No more killing myself for a job that I hate!

I used to have a really great life. At least from what I can dimly remember. Lots of friends, lots of plans, lots of fun. Now, all I do is work, work, work. It didn't help that I was in a relationship where he did the same thing. We fed each other's pathology. Now that it's over though, I'm leaving all those bad habits behind. I don't need the money, and I don't need the stress.

There will still be periods of time that I'm not going to be able to get around it. February, for example, is going to suck. But I'm treating myself to a cruise in March! It's called a well-fucking-deserved break.

I'm not a brain surgeon or a rocket scientist. I'm not saving lives or creating a better world for people to live in. I plan events for a very narrow portion of the white-collar population. Most of whom don't appreciate a damn thing. So why am I subjugating my entire life to them and their needs? What about my own?

Today I start concentrating on those. From here on out.

I like the new me already!

Random Hypothetical #4

I love these posts because they allow me to posit the most absurd scenarios.

Like, if one were to find a small amount of white powder that was most certainly older than your typical kindergartener, would said powder have any effects, ill or otherwise, at this point in time?

In other words, does coke go bad?

I'll look to the doctors and drug aficionados among you to answer the question. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

Reasons for Road Rage

There are some amazingly dangerous drivers out there. Every city has them. You can complain all you want about how people forget to drive when it's raining/snowing/etc. But today, that was not the case.

Today, there was not a cloud in the sky. It was so clear that you could see the snow on the San Gabriel mountains looming just 45 miles away. Pretty to look at. With that view in the distance, I was able to enjoy a leisurely and uneventful drive to work this morning.

Until I reached the intersection of Venice Blvd and Hoover St, in a little area of the city known as Pico-Union. It's kind of the 'hood. It's also a scant 3 miles from my office.

At this little juncture of my travels, a charcoal grey Mini Cooper without a license plate decided he was going to race me down Venice Blvd. I have no idea why. But as soon as the light turned green, he immediately sped out and cut me off, nearly slamming into a van making a right turn into my lane.

Since he was driving so erratically, I let him have a wide berth. I slowed down and changed lanes. With a good city block between us, he was clearly keeping an eye on me because he swooped into that lane too. I switched back. He did the same. I stopped at a light and he sped off.

But he was waiting for me at the next intersection. Him in the right lane, me about to make a left. He stayed a few car lengths back so we'd line up next to each other. He glared at me. I waved. He started making obscene gestures. With his tongue. And yelling something. I'm sure it was nasty. But his window stayed up, so I have no idea what it was.

The light changed and he sped off again like a bat out of hell. I honestly have NO idea what I did to antagonize the guy (prior to waving, anyway). And to risk all those innocent people on the road? What a fucking asshole.

I really wish I'd had the LAPD number handy. I was ready to call the police on this freak. There are usually traffic cops in that area all the time, so I'm surprised one didn't catch him speeding down a business district. But I was so rattled, I wasn't about to try dealing with 411 while driving. And there was no way I was pulling over, lest he double back and ram right into me.

People are fucking crazy. No wonder everyone hates Mondays.

Call Me Wonder Woman

In the middle of this massive packing project--who knew how much shit you can amass in six years?!--I've found time to do many other things:

1. List 22 items on ebay
2. Rent a lighting set up
3. Get yelled at by a fake judge for her fake problems
4. Break up with my boyfriend
5. Buy a new camera
6. Shoot a slew of family portraits
7. Celebrate Xmas with my coworkers
8. Flirt with an adorable gun-toting fed
9. Return new camera
10. Flirt with an architect
11. Enjoy a piña colada
12. Flirt with several newly-minted lawyers
13. Knit a purple scarf
14. Buy makeup and new clothes for myself
15. Flirt with some veteran lawyers...and a judge
16. Shop for shoes...and purses...and jewelry...and more clothes

And that was just in the last week. I'm so fucking productive. I should reward myself with sex and scotch. Oh wait, I did that too!

La dee da. I'm pretty satisfied with myself.

Buried Treasure

It's amazing what randomness you'll come across in the midst of packing. There are movies I didn't realize I even owned, forgotten portaits of a certain Krazy Mommy we took for her husband back when they were first dating, and just now, an interesting trip through the memories of an old fling.

It was August 19, 2004 and between the hours of 3 and 5 pm we engaged in an incredibly filthy email chain that spans 5 pages.

I'm getting a little hot just reading back through it. He was dirty in the best of ways and I adored him. With blond hair and blue eyes, he was the exact opposite of my usual prey, but the moment I set eyes on him it was all over for me. He spoke Swedish, French and English. Man, I loved that accent. The one he refused to admit he had.

That was a fun summer.

He's back in Sweden now. I'd practically forgotten all about him. Until now. As I was rifling through old papers, ready to throw them all away.

I think I'll hang on to this one for a little longer, though. Never know when you'll need a good read.

Free Gifts

I received an iPod Shuffle from a client today. An early Xmas present. Everyone say "aww" all at once.

I already have an iPod Nano. So what should I do with the Shuffle?

Maybe I'll raffle it off in a future Exxy game.

Be on the lookout!

Americans are Fucking Retarded

I am truly embarrassed by the citizens of this country. This is worse than what the Tonight Show captures on their Jay-Walking segments:



The religion of Israel is Catholic? How about Muslim? Australia mistaken for Iran? Hiroshima known for its Judo-wrestling? We had 3 world wars? That was my favorite. Mostly because it was said by a guy old enough to have lived through both world wars.

How fucking stupid are we???

My head hurts.

November by the Numbers

Sorry for the delay. There was a bit of disappointment over the weekend that led to my boyfriend Karl Dorrell losing his job. So sad. Part of the fun of watching the games was to catch him in that blue polo.

L'sigh.

Other things that happened recently:

1 football-themed bridal shower

100 dollars spent splitting the cost of said shower

1 wedding
12 coworkers sitting around the bar
13 dollars for one drink
3 birthdays
68 combined years celebrated
2-day celebration for the G-brat
700 people celebrating the life of a departed bench officer
33,000 dollars spent on food
1 birthday completely forgotten due to overwhelming work stress
11 days before I remembered
75 minutes spent with the birthday boy
0 mentions of his missed birthday
1 discovery about his unnecessary untruths
12 days spent on stomach drugs
168 pills ingested in that time
3 days of unfortunate side effects
0 alcoholic beverages during that time
1 gas leak
5 restaurant workers oblivious to the leak
1 massive headache
5 sushi dinners
1 very delighted sushi-stuffed GPG