Don’t you know anything!?! Answer, yes. What?

Tomorrow D and I are going to take our holiday pic.  We’re aiming for cheesy, horrible, ridiculous, embarrassing, thoughtful, poignant, timely, and funny with a little pine scent thrown in.

I won’t ruin it for my friends who read this blog and will hopefully get this pic in the mail soon.

In the mean time, we’re sitting around at home on a Saturday night with no place to go.  That’s not entirely true.  We’ve already done so much today and now we’re tired.  My old bones just aren’t what they used to be. And by “so much” I’m referring to eating pizza, walking to breakfast, eating ice cream, doing laundry, and cleaning the kitchen.

I’ve been really busy at work and trying really hard to keep my job. See, I fucked up hugely early in the beginning of a very important week for my organization. Well, as it turned out I didn’t fuck up, but the damage was already done and my ego and reputation damaged.  I won’t bore my very intelligent readers with the filth of the details and I also don’t care to relive.  But, I will tell you that the conversation between my boss and me ended with the boss saying, “Well, we just lost a million dollars.” Then the boss stormed off. It was terrible.  I felt like the biggest piece of shit and after cleaning the tears off my face in the bathroom, I started planning my escape and move back home, 1500 miles away. Doom and gloom filled my stomach.

This whole catastrophe was exacerbated because I missed phone calls and text messages from my bosses because my cell phone was off because I left my charger at a friend’s house  in a city many miles away and because I was too cheap to buy another one because I was waiting for another friend to FedEx the charger to me when she returned to work, which wasn’t for a few days and I thought that would be fine because I wouldn’t need my phone right away.  Poor judgement on my part and not the excuse I gave to the boss.

Turns out I didn’t cost us a million dollars, but as I said, damage done and I am still working on my “punishment” as the boss put it.

On to lighter notes. I’m reading a book called “Woe is I” and hoping to improve my grammar skills.  This desire was prompted because I’m expected to proofread and alphabetize shit at work and I need to polish these skills. I went to my neighborhood used book store and found the aforementioned title along with a few other gems.

“The I Hate to Cook Book” by Peg Braken, 1960.  (By the way, putting a period after the title of a book and other bibliographic information is grammatically correct.) What sold me on this book was Peg herself.  In the intro chapter she writes,

“Some women, it is said, like to cook. This book is not for them.  This book is for those of us who want to fold our dishwater hands around a dry Martini instead of a wet flounder…” 

For this I dropped my hard-earned $1. Peg has written some other fabulously title books.  I’m not sure if any are available online, since Peg ‘s writing career was in the sixties.

I also picked up a book on etiquette.  This was prompted after I behaved inappropriately around a group of Japanese business men and women.  I’m pretty sure I acted like the  charming southern lady I am, but to our Japanese guests that “charm” came across as a loud silly American.  Which, I am. 

What I learned and what my boss later explained:

1. You don’t shake Japanese business people’s hands. (I not only shook their hands, but introduced myself and asked them to take a seat and offered then some hot chocolate.  They don’t sit while they wait, because they shouldn’t have to wait. Whatevs…)

2. Don’t forget your business cards and slightly bow.  No handshake you silly American.

3. It’s best to have a small souvenir type gift.

4. Always wrap the gift. They won’t unwrap the gift until in private.  (that’s the point)

5. If there is to be a formal meeting at a conference table, identify each participants status within the organization. The head person will sit at the head of the table followed in succession. Most importantly know your status and do not sit in someone elses spot. (I was so low on this totem pole, I didn’t even sit at the table and there was plenty of room.)

6.  Don’t forget your business card.

7. Shhhh.  Lower your voice.

 Kisses and handshakes all around.

One more thing.  Buy Beyonce’s album “I am Sasha Fierce.”  You’ll love it.

Oh, yeah and Mr. D. has a crush on Obama.  He’s a little late to the train, but no bigs.  He watched the documentary “By The People: The Election of Barak Obama.”  It’s a dandy doc, check it.


True Life: My Life as a Regular Person

I’m watching True Life on MTV- this episode is about peer pressure.  Some chick is being pressured by her skanky friends from Hooters to get boobie implants (what she really needs is proactive, I’d rather have smaller tits with no acne than big boobies and big pimples).  Some dude is “falling into the rock star life” with increased drinking, drugging and maybe sex (I couldn’t tell). and the other dude is just fat and his friends want him to loose weight.  I don’t understand the last guy, because his friends are just trying to get his tubby self to loose some weight if he wants a girl. 

Anyways, the point of this blog is the ordinary-ness of my life.  And I actually like these ordinary parts the best.  I like watching TV and sitting in my bed with Mr. D, my dog and my cat. I like listening to DMX and breaking out into my best dance moves with Mr. D feeling possessed to join in.  I love laying in bed completely dead to the world, and one song bringing me to life.  Today, the song was “It’s my Turn” by Diana Ross.

Mr. D is out getting donuts for us. After which I’ll probably go back to sleep for another few hours.  I also love watching funny cat videos.  I’m off to you tube to catch up on any new post, before my donuts get here. While on you tube, I’m going to check out the new Beyonce video.  I want her new dance moves from her “Single Ladies” Video Maybe they’ll be like a workout for me, the video kind of looks like a workout video.  She’s got some pretty sick moves hookers. And I need some sick moves to work off my donuts. 

I’ll leave you with a poll…

peace out hookers, Sweet