We're having a pajama party. Who's comin' with me?
I can't seem to compose a decent post lately, so don't go expecting one tonight. That said, I'm sitting here at my computer in pajamas with my birthday afghan wrapped around me like a little old woman, drinking a lovely pinot noir, listening to James Blunt again and contemplating downloading something a little less... well, James Blunt. It's a very subdued Friday night around here, folks. Even Milo is curled up on the top of the couch, worn out from a stroll around the lake and having long ago given up on barking at the neighbor's dogs.
There were some things I intended to blog about this week, including some items of substance (if you still believe that I might blog about items of substance, God bless you because at the rate I'm blogging, it may never happen again), like President Bush's warnings of the impending destruction of the Gulf coast prior to Katrina and the recent SCOTUS decision to tackle late-term abortion.
But it has been a long week. No late nights partying like a rock star, but a long week nonetheless. The Powers That Be at the firm are off on the partners' retreat, and that seems to have everyone a bit on edge, including me. The thought that at some point they will all sit in a circle, and rather than holding hands and singing Kum-Bah-Yah, they will be discussing the personal and professional attributes of the newest associates. It is seriously a bit unnerving, which is why I took a two-hour lunch today and went shopping.
So, onto the more fluffy moments of my week because, of course, they are much more fun:
* I was on hold yesterday with a Texas firm. The hold music was not muzac but rather actual tunes as they were originally recorded. As I sat there on speaker phone, Lionel Richie/Diana Ross's "Endless Love" came on. Ugh. I immediately sent an e-mail to Kelly, telling her I was somewhere between puking and crying listening to that song while waiting on hold. I haven't heard that song in years. Her quick response received just prior to pick-up: "Puking is empowering. You are a puker, Manda, not a crier." I love her.
* Not only is "cooter" back in vogue, but it is is competing with "va-j-j," which makes me laugh every time I hear it uttered from the lip-glossed mouths of my silly girlfriends.
* Apparently men in their 50's are having more satisfying sex than those in their 30's. Who knew.
* Two people I knew well passed away this week. Three people I know well had birthdays.
* A very sweet-faced young guy carded me the other day and infomed me that my driver's license was expired. I hadn't realized, and he said, "Well, it expires every four years. I guess that's easy to lose track of after you're a few years past 21." As if he'd know.
* If you are a seventeen-year-old male, do not hide your condoms in the potpourri dish your mother has placed in your bathroom. If you are the parents of said seventeen-year-old, don't drink so much that you tell me all about finding the stash and then expect me not to laugh about it. I don't have kids.
* Most hilarious article ever sent my way just this morning about people who put sweaters on their dogs. If you love dogs, or hate little dogs and the crazy people that love them, go there and laugh your ass off. Best line from the mind of the little sweatered dog: "Do you honestly think that I prefer couscous and tofu over my lamb and beef nuggets?Lettuce wraps? Are you fucking serious… what is your damage?" For the record, I do not put sweaters on my dog. If I did, he would tear a hole in my windpipe. I swear to God he would.
* Foghat has a their very own website. I never thought to visit the site (notwithstanding my affinity for Monster Ballads) until Kelly P. expressed such great interst in the word "foghat." Kel also turned me onto showchoir.com website this week. The things you learn from those around you.
* And speaking of learning from those around you, it is always good to have a brilliant judge well versed in professional responsibility and ethics to call upon when needed. I appreciate it.
* I do not keep up on American Idol, but I have been watching MTV's "There and Back," and I will buy Ashley Parker Angel's CD when/if it ever comes out. I like the music. Really.
That's all I got tonight. What's your damage?
There were some things I intended to blog about this week, including some items of substance (if you still believe that I might blog about items of substance, God bless you because at the rate I'm blogging, it may never happen again), like President Bush's warnings of the impending destruction of the Gulf coast prior to Katrina and the recent SCOTUS decision to tackle late-term abortion.
But it has been a long week. No late nights partying like a rock star, but a long week nonetheless. The Powers That Be at the firm are off on the partners' retreat, and that seems to have everyone a bit on edge, including me. The thought that at some point they will all sit in a circle, and rather than holding hands and singing Kum-Bah-Yah, they will be discussing the personal and professional attributes of the newest associates. It is seriously a bit unnerving, which is why I took a two-hour lunch today and went shopping.
So, onto the more fluffy moments of my week because, of course, they are much more fun:
* I was on hold yesterday with a Texas firm. The hold music was not muzac but rather actual tunes as they were originally recorded. As I sat there on speaker phone, Lionel Richie/Diana Ross's "Endless Love" came on. Ugh. I immediately sent an e-mail to Kelly, telling her I was somewhere between puking and crying listening to that song while waiting on hold. I haven't heard that song in years. Her quick response received just prior to pick-up: "Puking is empowering. You are a puker, Manda, not a crier." I love her.
* Not only is "cooter" back in vogue, but it is is competing with "va-j-j," which makes me laugh every time I hear it uttered from the lip-glossed mouths of my silly girlfriends.
* Apparently men in their 50's are having more satisfying sex than those in their 30's. Who knew.
* Two people I knew well passed away this week. Three people I know well had birthdays.
* A very sweet-faced young guy carded me the other day and infomed me that my driver's license was expired. I hadn't realized, and he said, "Well, it expires every four years. I guess that's easy to lose track of after you're a few years past 21." As if he'd know.
* If you are a seventeen-year-old male, do not hide your condoms in the potpourri dish your mother has placed in your bathroom. If you are the parents of said seventeen-year-old, don't drink so much that you tell me all about finding the stash and then expect me not to laugh about it. I don't have kids.
* Most hilarious article ever sent my way just this morning about people who put sweaters on their dogs. If you love dogs, or hate little dogs and the crazy people that love them, go there and laugh your ass off. Best line from the mind of the little sweatered dog: "Do you honestly think that I prefer couscous and tofu over my lamb and beef nuggets?Lettuce wraps? Are you fucking serious… what is your damage?" For the record, I do not put sweaters on my dog. If I did, he would tear a hole in my windpipe. I swear to God he would.
* Foghat has a their very own website. I never thought to visit the site (notwithstanding my affinity for Monster Ballads) until Kelly P. expressed such great interst in the word "foghat." Kel also turned me onto showchoir.com website this week. The things you learn from those around you.
* And speaking of learning from those around you, it is always good to have a brilliant judge well versed in professional responsibility and ethics to call upon when needed. I appreciate it.
* I do not keep up on American Idol, but I have been watching MTV's "There and Back," and I will buy Ashley Parker Angel's CD when/if it ever comes out. I like the music. Really.
That's all I got tonight. What's your damage?
posted by Amanda at 9:25 PM
<< Home