And now it’s Sunday night and I have to go to bed in a couple of hours and then get up and go to work. And I don’t want to. I love love love my job, but sometimes I mean that more in the “I have a job” way as opposed to the “going there and doing work” part. The latter requires so much effort. Getting up, getting dressed, answering the phone when it rings, being Elaine at Work, the One Who Says At Least One Hilarious-Borderline-Inappropriate Thing Every Day.
(Yes, I do).
And last week was so lovely, with only working 4 days, and the week before that was pretty lovely as well, only working half of Friday.
On the bright side, things are changing a little bit at work (we are aligning teams by city instead of by job – it’ll either be awesome or horrifying) in a week, so at least a few obnoxious things are going away. And I’m getting a new boss (the chain of command goes like this: I report to Belinda, Belinda reports to Jorge*, the CEO; Mrs. Bossman is now the senior member of my team but isn’t really my boss I guess – sad).
(Jorge and Belinda are euphemisms…hey, you got The Almighty D’s real name only months after I left the old job…).
The weekend was start to finish awesome, minus rushing Sadie to the vet’s office (long story short, she’s fine but maybe has kennel cough but has gained 5 lbs in a month. None of this concerned our awesome vet so I am not concerned either). Denise and I got our toes done yesterday morning (at 9 AM, which was ironic considering we are both devotees of the Art of Not Getting Up Early) and then on a wild hair drove down to Pretty People Mall and had lunch at Cheesecake Factory and wandered the mall until 3 in the afternoon.
(I was SO good, I bought nothing and walked out merely with a sample of perfume. Go me!)
YTD, of course, as we say in the Big Payroll Biz ;):
Oh well, as Gene said to me at dinner last night, “It’s a good thing we don’t depend on your earnings as a sports forecaster”.
So yesterday was my birthday. It was a good day. I woke up (after going to bed at 10:15 on the 21st) at 11:57 pm and stayed awake just long enough to wish myself a happy birthday. And then I woke up again every couple hours just for grins. I worked until only 6:15 (ie, only 15 minutes late! a record for a Tuesday!) and then Gene and I went out for dinner (sushi, at the restaurant practically next to our house) where we ate like crazy people and watched the Purdue women’s basketball team get their asses handed to them by Connecticut.
Today’s birthday fun – spoke with my grandpa (I may be coming to Indianapolis around the 4th of July to spend some time with my assembled family) and Mom and Dad’s birthday present arrived (a very cute pair of Ray Bans – perhaps this year I will try contact lenses again so I can wear them this summer!*).
Tomorrow’s my Friday (yay!) because I am off from work on the real Friday (I know, I’m giving up my free lunch!). Gene and I are taking the day off and we don’t have any plans, at least none that I will admit to. Oh, and cake! Cake! Cake! CAAAAAAAKE.
Saturday is the conclusion to the birthday festival – Denise and I are getting our toes done at the salon I used to visit for all of my beautifying needs. And we’re having lunch.
All of this is exactly what I wanted for my birthday (assuming that huge personal wealth is not an option) so I am happy (assuming that the topic is not my 2011 March Madness bracket because I just noticed that my picks for Sweet 16 are a disaster and my Elite 8 is wrecked as well, WTF Notre Dame?)
* I can’t believe I just hit upon the idea of contact lenses. I’ve been dreaming about cute sunglasses (darn you, The Kids Are All Right – the sunglasses Annette Bening is wearing in that picture is what started this, except the pair she has on cost a bazillion dollars) and sad because I wear regular glasses already and how will I ever pull that off? Completely forgetting that contacts are a viable option (egad, I was considering Lasik, all for the chance to wear sunglasses…) (Loser).
Okay okay okay. It turns out my earlier post where I roasted poor Gonzaga over the coals for getting beaten by St. Johns was incorrect. (Well, not about the only one choice for a major part; that part is 100% true). It turns out that Gonzaga actually won the game but that I neglected to follow my own rules for picking my bracket and bet against them.
PS: What is a Gonzaga? Is it a kind of Muppet?
PPS: Please get off the “Dead to me” list in favor of Tennessee and Xavier. Not cool, guys, not cool.
So, March Madness has started and as in years past, I am following the goings on as only someone with the barest understanding of WTF is going on can.
First, thanks Louisville for totally effing up my Sweet 16. Break my heart, why don’t you? I mean, Morehead State? WTF?? And Vanderbilt, don’t think that I didn’t notice that Richmond beat you… Ugh, I would be concerned that the world has gone dangerously off its axis, except that I actually didn’t even get my act together to join my employer’s pool for this so it’s not like I’m out any $.
However, the saddest of all is my beloved Gonzaga (actually, the saddest thing of all is the absence of Maryland from the tournament altogether – dear Terps, I had you winning the whole enchilada a few years ago, and now this??). Gonzaga, you let a college where the only major is philosophy beat you at basketball?? Did you not feel the warmth of the love from an entire nation giggling about what the hell is a Gonzaga? And furthermore, I just used my Awesome Subtraction Skills (learned at a college w/ more than one major…) to determine that it was not even a close game. At least the other dead to me schools came close. For shame, Gonzaga, for shame.
I want to go to Indianapolis again.
But only if I can be 15 years old, too.
Oh, for the carefree days of not worrying about how to explain to a client that, despite the fact that they are paying for us to take care of their Tax Stuff, we won’t do anything about their Fearsome Tax Notice until we are damned good and ready.
(No longer sure if mahnewjobiscoolis).
All 3 of the dogs get a pill every day. Betty gets a fish oil pill to help with her hip (she’s fine, it rarely bothers her, but we’re trying to prevent issues when she gets older). Sadie gets a Bufferin to help thin her blood (it’s a heartworm thing). Scooby gets a “pink” treat, a store brand Benadryl to help his allergies (is it working? probably not).
Betty will eat her pill straight – no cheese, no peanut butter, no shoving it in the middle of a bowl of dog food. She will grab her pill in midair. (Sidebar: Yes, we buy the odorless kind…she’s gassy enough, thank you).
Sadie will eat hers in a bowl of kibble and usually leaves no trace of it.
Scooby…on the other hand…! Today’s lunch was beef stew meat covered in (shameful pause) bacon grease, with the pill somewhere in the mix. Bacon grease. Raw beef. Surely he would snarf up that pill in his exuberance. After I finished my lunch (BLTs, no bacon grease) I walked up to his kennel to check out his dog dish. Empty. Except for that stupid Target brand Benadryl, which was either licked clean or entirely untouched.
Belligerent. Freaking. Beagle.
Watching Gossip Girl (thanks to the internet) motivates me to fold the laundry and make the bed every Sunday evening, but now it’s on a 6 week hiatus (WHY???). Whatever will I do to motivate myself?* Bleh!
and I also have finished the Daria and The State DVDs…
So last Saturday we watched the second half of the Best Picture nominees. Well, 4 of them anyway…
First up was Winter’s Bone. The heartwarming tale of a poverty stricken daughter searching for her father, a crank “cooker”, I think that this was 2011’s “Precious”. Gene and I both enjoyed it but were not sad when it ended.
Next, Black Swan. Wow. I really wanted Annette Bening to win the Oscar for Best Actress (for The Kids Are All Right)…until I saw Natalie Portman’s performance in Black Swan. A totally crazy, amazing movie.
The middle movie was Inception, which we saw back in July (during my luxurious two days of unemployment). Skipped it this time in favor of skeeball and drinks down at Dave & Busters. D&B is a totally different place at midday on a Saturday – all the kids are throwing balls down the alley (?) like they’re hopped up on PCPs. I finally got annoyed by the kids and was just a little tipsy so I decided to explore the mall a bit by myself (bought socks and tried to buy a new bra – I think it is time for either a home breast reduction kit or at least to start buying bras from the tent section at the Army surplus store…).
Next movie: The Social Network. Wow, that was another great movie. I am so glad it got nominated – I’d wanted to see it on the big screen during its original run but we don’t go to the movies that often anymore. I’m not the biggest Facebook fan (ha ha) out there but it was a movie that I really liked and related to. (On a related note, I got a free Social Network mousepad on the first Saturday so now Jesse Eisenberg stares at me all day at work – I have finally decided to turn it upside down so it’s not so creepy).
And finally – HOORAY! – The King’s Speech. I love Colin Firth because he is so. freaking. hawt. And I love Helena Bonham Carter because she reminds me of Brandy (I wish I could find the picture from Entertainment Weekly). And I just – JUST – figured out that the actress who played Geoffrey Rush’s wife played Lizzie Bennet in the BBC version of Pride & Prejudice that has the infamous “Colin Firth walking out of a lake in a dripping wet shirt” scene so prized in Bridget Jones’s Diary (which of course starred Colin Firth).
I literally just blew my mind. Anyway, glad that the Kings Speech won and if I were smarter I’d find a way to use one of the vulgarity riddled moments from the movie and turn it into my cell phone’s ring tone.
So, my dad’s birthday was Thursday. Let’s all agree that he turned 29. He’s the strong silent type.
He was never the type of Dad who could help us fix stuff (although, I take that back…there’s a bookcase that I bought unassembled that he helped me with after I stripped the original screws), but he is the kind of dad who would drive into downtown Indianapolis in the pouring rain because his daughter needed something to be picked up from the Indianapolis Star’s office for an urgent school news paper deadline (because I never, ever managed to remember to request these things early).
He was never the kind of Dad who surprised you with a New! Car! on your 16th birthday (and wouldn’t THAT have been silly, since I didn’t get licensed until I was 21?) but he is the kind of Dad who, while waiting with me at the Department of Motor Vehicles, turned to a staring toddler next to him and told her “Can you believe she’s (points to me) my daughter?!?” (and he’s also the kind of dad who wasn’t upset when I got into a big accident while driving his car five years later).
He’s the kind of Dad who made me the person I am today, and I thought about that every day this week when I poured a bowl of cereal to eat, because that’s what you do before you get to eat the donuts. You have to eat the “good for you” stuff (in this example, Frosted Shredded Mini Wheats) before the “yummy” stuff (although, Mini Wheats followed up by Entemann’s is just a case of win-win).
Happy Birthday (a little late), Dad.