Shhhhhhh

As I type this, Usher is filming a music video outside my office window. You’d think Justin Beiber was downstairs by the way these girls are screaming - which I get to hear over...and over...and over...

At least break out some dance moves, Ush! Give me something to watch!

Just Ranting

A girl from my hometown just lost her one month old baby, who was born prematurely. It is beyond tragic...and just the thought of it breaks my heart. But, reading through her comments of support on Facebook, there were a few that royally pissed me off.

If, heaven forbid, I ever lose a child, and you have the audacity to tell me THAT DAY that it's God's plan...then just pack up and move, because there's a good chance that I might come to kill you. That would only be tolerated if, for example, I lose my job. There's potential for a better job around the corner, but there's no replacing the life of a child.

Also, if you comment on somebody's page about the loss of their newborn...could you PLEASE remove your latest sonogram picture as you icon?!?

Idiot.

WORK: Goodbye Jerlyn! A Toast.

Our good friend Jerlyn has moved on to brighter skies at Aviary (GET IT?!?). We taught her a lesson about what we do to people who leave us.

We destroy them...

Old Woman At The Club

I’m not a lush. There...I said it. But because of several occasions that hit at once, I was forced to go out four nights in a row last week. Wednesday: Going away party for one of my favorite co-workers. Thursday: Stressful day at work...needed wine. Friday: Gallery opening and friend’s birthday. Saturday: Husband had friends in town from Venezuela.

By examining this past week, I have been able to deduce the following...I am slowly becoming the old woman at the club. Hopefully, not in looks...but in attitude.

Sample #1:
My new nickname should be Cinderella, because I can barely stay out past midnight without turning into a sleepy pumpkin.

Sample #2:
At a bar on Friday, I actually asked the waitress to turn the music down. Later, I found myself shaking my fist and complaining about “kids these days.” Then, while leaving, (it was midnight, after all) I almost lost my shit because all these “kids” wouldn’t get out of my way.

Sample #3:
I hate crowds. I won’t stand in line for any reason. You’ll never catch me in heels over 2"...or in skirts shorter than 5". I’m klassy.

Sample #4...and my personal favorite:
While playing pool on Thursday, a couple came and joined in. I paired up with the girl, and the guy I had originally been playing joined up with the new guy. (Boys vs. Girls was my idea...shocker.) Turns out they were models who were in town for fashion week. And not the kind of models who still have their waiter jobs on the side. She had just come from doing the DKNY runway show, has recently been on the cover of Italian Vogue (yes, this is her), is going to be on an upcoming cover of Harper’s Bazaar, and was flying to Paris in the morning to do more runway work.

Ok, you’re pretty. No biggie. Let’s play pool. In fact...we were having a great time! And then this little gem happened:

Model: How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?
Me: [Had to think for a second, because I often forget my own age.] 29
Model: Oh my God! You’re...like...10 years older than me!
Me: [Thinking] And 30 pounds heavier. Thanks for not bringing that up...

Fantastic...

I’ve had a stressful couple of weeks at work, which has kept me in a generally grumpy mood. Hopefully this curmudgeonly part of my life will pass quickly once that is over.

*humph*

I’m A Murderer

I am quickly becoming the Queen of Killing Plants. Each plant that I’ve ever owned - whether it’s a money tree or bonsai - has eventually meet its doom. This particular plant - a succulent, for cryin’ out loud - had a good run. I’ve had him for almost 6 months and everything was perfectly fine up until a week ago! (I even have some conspiracty theories that involve the office’s cleaning lady.)

I know that I don’t have the greenest of thumbs, so when I bought this plant, I asked the store owner how often to water it. “Every 9 days.” So, that’s what I did. *sniff* Farewell, old friend.