2005-05-26
Who Forgets Casual Day?
It's the company Spring Fling today and I forgot that a party means a free pass for a casual day!
Dammit!
I'm in business casual when I could have been in casual casual all along.
Stupid, shitty stoner-memory. I have new cute appropriate-for-work casual clothes and I blew it!
There's a tropical theme and everything and I could have NAILED it with a cute outfit and instead? I'm all over here in the black on black, Sarah's chubby sophistication.
There is an upside to accidentally dressing in work clothes during a casual day - people think you are working on something really important and that you probably have a client meeting later, so you can work through lunch (eBay) and head out to your meeting (beat the traffic home and clean up the place before you settle in for telephone and TV)
*sigh*
At least I have another four day weekend coming up.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Yes, another four day weekend.
"Hey! Don't call me that! I don't tell you that you are a stupid and lazy American!"
"Yes, I suppose I am one so that was a little hypocritical.
But still - HA HA!!!
I'm laying out and playing with my sweet angel puppy. I need to wash my bitchin' Honda like you would not believe. It's grossing me out and as a half-way rehabbed slob, that's hard to do. I don't mind the dust but honestly, it's getting to the point where I feel twinges of parking lot embarrassment.
I leave the building and I see people getting into their cleaner vehicles and granted, most of those cars are white, or silver, or something that doesn't show off the 20 pounds of dust that seems to free-fall onto MY car everyday. My Bitchin' Honda is dark green and right now, it kind of has this dusty-brown, tonally complimentary shade of straight-up dirt covering it. I walk out of the building and coworkers are getting into their cleaner cars and it is getting a little shameful. Like, what if people think because I don't wash my car, that I don't wash my hair?
Or shave my legs?
That would be the ultimate insult to me, and I guess if I thought of it, someone else might think of it, too.
Time to wash the car.
I don't know what I'll do with the puppy while I wash the car. She has two more weeks before she can get vaccinated; that means that I can't let her outside or around other dogs. I guess I'll let Maggie and Grace dog-sit.
Oh Christ, that's a nightmare waiting to unfold in my bedroom and on my couch and under my desk and in the shower.
It's going to be a looooong weekend while everyone gets used to each other. Maggie Sauce, aka Stoner Kitty, will be fine. G-Love...
Grace is going to have a massive coronary and be grabbing for me with all four paws and clutching her chest like she is a Jewish Bubby whose granddaughter has just come out of the closet. The dramatics will be flying as much as the fur will. Hopefully Grace won't be able to influence Maggie into some "We are Siameeeese if you pleeeease, duh duh
duh"
They're not Siamese; they don't even look alike but man....
they will fuck your shit up when given the opportunity and I have it on good authority that a multiple cat household lead said-cats to exhibit a less-than welcoming response from those cats to small puppies who join their loving homes.
Little do G-Love and Maggie Sauce know that despite Rosie, I'll always be a cat person.
I'm too lazy to ever make a full conversion to Dog Person.
I like animals that want nothing more than to lie on me when it's cold and to kill stuff that lives in the courtyard.
I met a dude.
In Chicago.
And he's from Arizona.
And he called me.
Twice.
He probably does not know that in this really random and sort of loosely-affiliated way, he lit a match and has begun to bring my cold waters to a nice simmer, headed toward the boil. My neighbor Sarah McCool-Coolina and I stumbled on an idea that is just cliche enough to sell and yet just interestingly different enough to be intellectually pleasing. It's an excellent arrangement because we are both the brains, we are both focused on the project and we both want to sell the shit out of it for lots of money, or even not lots but writing credits.
The bottom line here?
We have the same vision on this project and I am pumped to work on it.
Here comes a song:
I want money, lots and lots of money...
I want the pie in the sky....
"Hey, shut-up. What am I supposed to do? You didn't like Tigre and Bunny the other day... I can't have this lack of communication about hip hop hits from the early ninties, ok? I can't have it."
I never thought it would be possibile but it seems as though I ate so much, I am too full of food to be creative. I'm like, Thanksgiving day full.
I need my remote.
arizonasarah at 12:39 p.m.