Whew

October 23rd, 2002, 6:42 PM by Goddess

Just got back from fueling Samantha Jones and washing her windows. Christ. My heart started thumping as I did the “gas dance,” otherwise known as trying-to-fuel-one’s-car-in-the-metro-Washington-area. This zig-zagging shit that they recommend we do with our bodies is kinda difficult when you’re trying not to get gasoline on your clothes. Cripes.

I heard that search warrants are being served throughout the United States right now, in relation to this case. Headline News is breaking it right now; they’re talking about Washington state right now. Hmm. I also heard earlier today that the person calling the tip line, identifying himself as the sniper, has an accent that could possibly be technology-induced. I’ll bet it isn’t a fake. I’ll bet it’s a sock over a receiver that’s muffling his voice, but it’s a real accent. Experts think it’s an American-born Hispanic. Hmmm. It’s probably that guy who dropped his drawers on the dance floor at Nation, who was begging me to give him a hand job. Heh.

Shan and I were saying that instead of picking off random citizens, Sniperoo needs to be introducing his bullets to meter maids, who snipe us (pun intended) for $50 for expired meters and $15 for missing tax stickers. Whaddaya think, Sniperoo? Help us out a bit.

One last comment about this: Our gas prices are only down two cents. Why?!?! Nobody’s going to the gas stations, for cripes’ sake. Apply the laws of supply and demand, guys … and being that Alexandria is literally crawling with police (I had three cars within my line of vision at the pump), people will be more inclined to come out and fuel up. Just a humble suggestion. 🙂

Another sniper-related issue: our guards are down, while our sniper-radar is going up. I no longer put my Club on my steering wheel, just so I can make a quick getaway if I hear gunfire as I approach my car. I still hold my purse and cell phone protector close to me, but I’m so busy watching wooded areas and dancing through parking lots that someone could say, “Boo!” to me and I’d probably drop my phone and have my purse snatched out of my hand. We’re so worried about being gunshot victims that we forget that it would be much more likely to be mowed down by a psychotic D.C., Maryland or Virginia driver.

So many people are worried about “copycat” killings … I’m more worried that the sniper has caused other potential perpetrators to contemplate sliding into action in their own ways … after all, if they aren’t popping people off from 300 yards away, who’s gonna say anything about a little pickpocketing offense?

I just heard that a tree stump confiscated from behind the house in Tacoma, Wash., is about to be put on a plane and flown to D.C. I just commented to IKEA Boy that the stump, which will be pampered and escorted, is being treated better than we will ever be. 🙂

Quick work update: Jackie will never put me on a media project again, and Yellow-Haired Bitch has realized (thanks to Shan) that Jackie appointed us to do her work; we didn’t knowingly step on her pointy little toes. She’s happier now. Not that I gave a shit in the first place. But it’s a bummer about me losing the media component of my job (I won’t go into it here as to why), but at least this one experience broke up the monotony of my usual routine. Oh well. Shan and I finally realized how people acquire the “lifer” mentality … and we’re dangerously close to resigning ourselves to it.

Our president told me that the interview on Headline News went very well this morning; he wanted to thank me for making it happen. He said that they asked all the right questions (thanks to Shan and I having Jackie call CNN in advance, to discuss talking points) and that it was very fluid. Hah. The prez even gave Shan a big hug in front of Jackie, to thank her for her work on this debacle, and he asked her to give me a hug from him as well. Unfortunately, I slept through it (I even slept with the TV on, so that I could wake up and see it). Shit. Oh well. I’ll live. I’ll be Yellow-Haired Bitch missed it too.

In other news, I’ve exchanged at least two rounds of e-mail with hot Matt from the press conference. If nothing else, I’m building my contact base so that I can possibly get my own business launched. And if I get more (i.e., a date), I certainly won’t be upset!



Life happens while you’re in an elevator

October 22nd, 2002, 8:12 PM by Goddess

Okay, so Shan and I were in the elevator at the National Press Club this morning when we heard that Sniperoo presumably shot victim #14. I felt the tears rush to my eyes, but I didn’t shed them. I ached for the victim, who has since been pronounced dead; I ached for his family; I ached for Washingtonians who fear every minute for their lives; and I ached for families in the Middle East for whom such random acts of violence are far more common and on a far greater scale.

But the elevator ride from our moderately successful press conference was awesome … we rode with Janet Reno!!! Not that Shan and I are stargazers, by any means, but it was just so very impressive to be near someone we consider to be a celebrity.

Press conference was good … it attracted about as much attention as I expected it would. We were supposed to have CNN in attendance, but due to the sniper shooting, they left a message stating that they were heading to the hospital in Aspen Hill, Md., to cover the latest victim’s condition. But after the event, I got a call from Headline News, asking for me to set up an interview for a live feed at 7:40 a.m. tomorrow morning. Not bad for a day.

Shan was really the one who made miracles happen. All the press we got, came from her bank of contacts. She even got us into the Press Club, which is difficult at best, especially considering that no one from our association even holds a membership there. My predecessor, now known as J-HO, didn’t get a soul to attend … and of course she will be paid for her efforts. Luckily, though, she wasn’t there.

Jackie Chan, now known as plain ol’ Jackie, ’cause it can stand for JackOFF or JackASS, thus being equally accurate to the original name, was a big fat poopy-head today. The second he saw Shan, he made a shitty comment. And he was just plain old annoyed to be there, and made it a point to let everyone know it. Fuckhead. Shan and I met with him later (to be explained), and he was just on an ego trip. I wanted to kick his ass to the moon, but given the opportunity, I’d have to pass it to Shan, ’cause she’s the one regaled to wiping his ass all day, every day.

But for any aggravation suffered in advance of the press conference, I rather enjoyed attending it. Two hot, single men were there, and I was working it with both of them. Hee hee. One was the Matt who showed up at our association’s recent Open House (he was the one all the girls were drooling over, and I was the only one who got his number). I was pleased to see that he came out to support us today, and I dropped him a crafty little thank-you-for-attending e-mail, with a suggestion that we should really get togther to talk about ways we can possibly work together in the future. Hah.

The other was Mike, from Boston. Yowza, as Shan would say. I was hot for him, too. He and Matt were both just too cute for words, professional, insightful and just plain candy for the eyes. Mmmm. I’d like to get a taste of his hot baked beans. lol.

Drama was in store, however, when I arrived at work. I stopped into the bathroom to take a piss (why else would I go there, huh?!?!). Yellow-Haired Bitch was in there and made some comment to me about the press conference. Now, she’s supposedly in charge of media relations, but she really sits on her big fat ass and talks to her daughter and husband on the phone all day. She was not in on the whole press conference planning (probably because she’s a fucking idiot), and I assume that’s why she picked fights with me and with Shan today. Of course, she didn’t even attend the conference … probably had some candy jars to hit in the office and was glad to be rid of some of us, for easier grazing. Argh. I don’t know. I’m being catty.

At any rate, in the toily, after her comment, I said something that, frankly, needed to be said. (Background: Jackie zipped out of the conference to head to CNN with our president, leaving behind hot Mike and his boss, Bill, who’s just cool as shit. Bill and Mike were concerned, however, because they had organized the CNN interview that aired this morning, using their contacts, and today, Jackie went back to CNN without them in a supposedly unrelated interview … which, if you ask me, I wholeheartedly believe that Jackie used them for their contacts and snuck behind their backs for his own self-promotion.)

Anyway, I told Yellow-Haired Bitch that some damage control needs to be done, that Bill and Mike are somewhat hurt and confused about being excluded, particularly when they were the ones who had the contacts with CNN and gave us the entree. She hypocritically told me that they just need to take a pill (she’s admittedly addicted to Zoloft). I said they were not upset, just concerned, as I had just said, had she been listening (I said that kinda sharply, but she’s an idiot). She said it’s none of their business, because it was a call that came in randomly through our front desk and she responded to it, as she is the media person. I said I don’t care how it happened (and that it’s a shame that we’re not actively contacting the media with our expertise, but oh well. Story for another day.) but that there is a PERCEPTION on the part of our NEW PARTNERS that we might have used them … something that needs to be ADDRESSED and HEALED in order for the partnership to possibly continue.

Further, I asked what, then, was the interview about. She explained it. Sounded awfully familiar to the content of our press conference, to which Bill and Mike contributed significantly, and I said so.

Yellow-Haired Bitch began RAGING at me, saying that all media-related things should pass through her, and that there are too many people involved. She made a SHITTY remark about me handling media issues, how that’s her job and she doesn’t mean to imply that I don’t know what I am doing, but it’s not my place. (I was boiling mad, too much so to point out that HER SUPERVISOR Jackie appointed me to the team.) She was flailing her arms and saying that she needs to talk to Jackie, because it’s just ridiculous how she doesn’t know what’s going on and that people like me are more in the know. And again, she reiterated how “petty and stupid” Mike and Bill were being, for not being included in the afternoon CNN interview, when “it didn’t even have anything to do with them because it’s an interview I handled.”

FUCKING STRAW-HAIRED, FAT-ASSED, MEDICATED FUCKING FREAK!!! She should talk about taking a pill … she must’ve been overdue for her afternoon dose!!!

Realizing that she was spluttering and fucking crazy, I quickly grabbed a toily seat protector and slammed myself into a stall. I don’t reason with the unreasonable. I did not raise my voice; I did not lose my cool. As a person asked to act as a media advisor for this event, I did my part, and then some. It’s not my fault that she’s incompetent. It’s not my fault that she doesn’t know how to do a press conference. And it’s not my place to convince her of that.

While I happily voided my bladder (finally!), she went raging down to Shan’s area, where the president and she were talking. Yellow-Haired Bitch went off about what a fucking asshole she thinks I am, that I’m concerned about what our whiny partners were thinking and I’m creating drama and I’m out of place. Yadda Yadda Bullshit. Shan gave me the rundown, but I was just a bit ticked and hoping that the sniper will see her nasty straw hair and put her out of our misery. 🙂

Shan was most perturbed at Yellow-Haired Bitch anyway, as the lunatic had screamed at her a few times as well. But during the “let’s bash Dawn” fiesta, Shan put her straight into her place that, in fact, I was calling it exactly like it was and was making a perfectly logical recommendation for action. Shan was concerned, though, that I was being bashed in front of the president, but I said to hell with it. I went above and beyond my job responsibilities — to do the bitch’s job. And I did well, damn it. And I would have done more, had Jackie not pissed me off and discarded my efforts the way he did.

But it’s all good. Shan and I had had a business meeting with Bill and Mike, and they are most interested in how we can all help each other. Shan even volunteered us to work for them for free, on the side, just to build that relationship. I was cool with it … I’m all about building my experience base, especially if these guys will be appreciative of our efforts, which they totally were. Jackie couldn’t say “good job” or “thank you,” but the other guys were gushing over our enthusiasm, humor and ability to pull off a press conference in a four-day span. And they were thrilled to dispense business advice and to dangle an invitation to think about doing some side work for their company. Hah. Fuck you, Jackie. Fuck you and your Yellow-Haired Bitch and your mistress J-HO.

And fuck this stupid company. Jesus Christ, if I didn’t work for IKEA Boy and have Shan down the hall for my amusement and sanity purposes, I’d just leave. J-HO and Yellow-Haired Bitch got paid to do publicity, and Shan’s and my stupid asses did it for free, among our other responsibilities. We need to be running our own media relations company … we’ve more than proven that our teamwork is strong, our knowledge is extensive and our ability to plan and to wing that for which we did not plan is keen and unparalleled. It would be nice to work for normal people … ourselves.

Poor IKEA Boy had a shitty day … his computer crashed and lost th 35 beautifully laid-out pages of our publication that he completed today. Lost the whole fucking file. Damn it. I feel horrible for him; I wish I could save the file somehow. Anybody know how to rescue a “Bad File/Error 70”?



Creepy

October 21st, 2002, 3:01 PM by Goddess

The two people detained in the sniper case are apparently unable to be connected to the crime. I was overjoyed when I heard about the arrests, as I need to put some fuel in Samantha Jones, and I was hoping to do it tomorrow (payday). Shit. But the cops are finally releasing information about the note found at the scene. Now I understand why Moosehead was being so cryptic in his statement to “call us at the number you provided.” And here I thought he was being semi-literate, like usual. My opinion of him just went up a point or three. But I am still terrified, nonetheless.

Just a final thought: my family and I used to eat at Ponderosa about once a month when I was younger. It was not unusual for at least one of us to be doubled over in the parking lot, stricken with gastrointestinal attacks after eating that crappy food. Back then, no one would have ever dreamed that a bullet hit us in the stomach, although it certainly felt like it! 😉



19 days, 13 victims, 2 arrests

October 21st, 2002, 9:59 AM by Goddess

Keep your fingers crossed that we have finally caught the beltway sniper.



Rockin’ and Rollin’

October 20th, 2002, 12:47 PM by Goddess

Emphasis on the rolling, of course!

Madonnarama was a blast. Paul and Bryan came out with us, and I met some fantastic new people. Last night, Mikey was in a dance performance on the stage … it was awesome! I’d never seen him dance before. My, to be that flexible. …

Matt didn’t show last night, but his roommate Ryan and two of his friends made the journey up to Alexandria last night to accompany us. He had his reasons for laying low, and I understand that it wasn’t to avoid me. Hee hee. Doesn’t that boy know that he could have gotten laid last night? Sheesh. I haven’t had 20-year-old cock since, well, I was 20 myself, and it would have been a pleasant way to spend this morning. (I could’ve ridden that poor boy down the Beltway, thanks to my yummy pill.) Oh well. Maybe next time. 🙂

I rolled pretty hard this time. I think I consumed way too much water, because I was nauseated for awhile. But it was nothing that a couple of bong hits couldn’t cure, though.

IKEA Boy is going to Pittsburgh with me for Turkey Day. It was ironic that he even brought it up, because I had toyed with the idea of inviting him, but I know that going to the ‘Burgh isn’t his idea of fun. I am ripping apart my room right now, looking for a certificate I bought in a silent auction for a weekend stay at the Ramada that includes dinner at the Ruddy Duck, which is a top-notch restaurant in downtown Pittsburgh (ironically, I had been the one who received the donation for Two Strikes, and I ended up paying $150 for it. Hah! But it’s a $500 value, so I’m fine with it. I’m glad it will finally come in handy).

Mom will probably be bummed that I’m not staying with her, but honestly, I am tired of sleeping on the couch, although that couch once belonged to MV. Every time I sleep on that couch, I dream about her. Just to go back in time five and a half years … there is so much I would have done differently. I was so in love with her, and so afraid to let it happen because of what that meant. She probably would have become just a memory anyway, but it would have been preferable to the regret I now carry.

At any rate, Mom is thrilled to play hostess, and she’s even happier that I am NOT driving. lol. She is fine with my driving, but IKEA Boy refuses to sit in a car with me for four hours each way, listening to me road raging all over the place. Yeah, wait till he hears Maddie howling from the backseat … both of his girls bitch when we’re in the car!!!

My 10-year high school is that weekend. When I got the e-mail asking me to RSVP, I was the first respondent … with a big fat NO!!! Why would I see all those losers when I have so many BETTER friends I want to see while I’m there?



Self-Discovery

October 19th, 2002, 4:31 PM by Goddess

This month has just sucked at work. Between the re-print of the October issue, scrambling to catch up after days away from the office, and unpleasantries with Jackie Chan on IKEA Boy, Shan’s and now my parts, I’d be more than happy to quit my job and take my chances with consulting for a company that might actually appreciate some talent and vision. But, does such a place exist? I keep hopping from organization to agency to association, looking for greener pastures, yet all I find are sacred cows and scared little calves who are in charge. Damn it. Now I’m hungry for steak. … 🙂

Only spent a half-hour or so at the gym today. Loser. But there were some INCREDIBLE (and EDIBLE!) men there. Usually you see the bonehead bodybuilder types, but today, all the hot boys must have decided to have a convention at Bally. Damn! Who wants to be seen all sweaty and red-faced when yummy eye candy is looking at us?

Speaking of Bally, Wobin called me today and told me how frantic she was when she heard about a recent overseas bombing … in Bali. When the news first broke, she thought they meant my gym. Hah. But we have to cut her a bit of slack, as she’s already nuts over the beltway sniper. The woman’s paranoid. Hee hee … Hear that, Shan? Bally was bombed! We don’t have to exercise anymore!!! ROFL

An oddity I recently discovered about my working habits is that I complete projects in the reverse order in which they were assigned. Short attention span? I feel like a baby … show me something shiny and new, and it distracts me. Now, how do I make that work in my favor?



ISO Reckless Abandon

October 18th, 2002, 9:39 PM by Goddess

Here I sit, blogging on a Friday night. Oh joy and rapture. I wasn’t lacking an invitation to go out, but it’s kinda difficult with no money. Whatsoever. Until payday on Tuesday, when I write out the rent check and whatever bills have gone neglected (i.e., home phone). Argh.

Got a response to the lone personal ad that’s still live. All these fricking sites charge you to open your mail, but at least I got to see its subject line. It’s from a couple. A COUPLE!!! Christ, I can’t even chew gum and drive, or smoke and walk, without running into a curb. Although I’ve always had fantasies about being a guest star (a la Samantha Jones), I can’t say I’m interested. 🙂 Oh well! Better luck next time. … Perhaps they liked my headline (as repeated above), and why wouldn’t they? 😉

Met a hottie in Starbucks tonight (as I paid with quarters for my cinnamon spice mocha). Perhaps I will go back for a different type of hot liquid to drink. … 😉 Only next time, I need to have cash so I don’t look so pathetic!

Blew the remainder of my bank account tonight. Bought a nifty, cheap little lamp at a local discount store. It’s square, black wrought-iron with a square blue shade inside of it. Cool as shit. I worked 12 hours today — damn it, I deserved it, and the cost equaled an hour of pay (not to insinuate that I am paid hourly, though).

Not to pitch a bitch about work, but Jackie Chan put me on a team to pull together a press conference on this coming Monday, and he put the brakes on my involvement today. I had written a great press release and spent the equivalent of three hours advising him on media relations (as he has no fucking clue about it). I thought this would be my chance to shine, but no luck. Unfortunately, he knows I’m swamped, so yanking me off the team, he felt, was the best decision for all of us. Chickenshit even made Shan break the news to me, and then he instructed her to give my shit to my predecessor, who is now his mistress, I believe. I’m slightly furious, but the fact is, I didn’t have adequate time to devote to it (even though, at Shan’s and my request, he did move it to Tuesday). I told IKEA Boy that I shouldn’t be this disillusioned, only four months into the job.

That’s when it occurred to me why my lucky number is three … at every job I’ve held, I’ve hit my breaking point at the four-month mark. For instance, at this time last year, I was happy as a lark at Two Strikes (actually, I was getting ready to go to South Carolina with Brat for what I had hoped would be a 14-Karat Fuckfest). The day after I returned to Pittsburgh, Incoherent Twit told me that Her Royal Pretentiousness was on a rampage and wanted to rip us both to shreds upon my arrival into work, four days from then. And she did. Big time. Again, I’d been at the job a mere four months.

Perhaps this is why I need to do a full-time consulting gig, and now I know to limit my stints to four months. Heh. I really thought I’d show Jackie, et. al., how dazzling, powerful, resourceful and influential I can be. And when Shan and I tag-teamed him with all of our ideas, concerns, needs and potential, he did his faggy eye flutter and ran screaming from the office 10 minutes later, not to be seen till the next day. Bastard.

Something I’ve learned, in my extensive non-profit experience, is that there are two forces that make an organization work: the program people and the operations people. The program people have the dreams and the desire and the heart, but they don’t know shit about logistics. Then the operations people (like me) buy into the dream long enough to figure out how to make these grand dreams come true. Program people don’t like details, planning or, god forbid, Plan Bs. Operations people want to kick program people in the ass, because we can’t reach their heads that are in the clouds. Jackie is a program person. HRP was a program person. IKEA Boy, Shan, F/OM and I play for the other team, and we are the people who will die trying to please program people if we don’t wise up and learn to chase our own dreams.

I’m not angry, and I’m not going to turn back into a person who hates going into work every day. But can Jackie even conceive of the potential he’s missing? I beat him over the head with advice and ideas, and I made it clear from the get-go that my best contribution to the project would be in an advisory capacity. Then he acted shocked when he found out that my time really WAS limited, and he seemed to reject the professional advisement I provided. My name is off the press release, off the project, off the list for future endeavors. Now dumb bitch Jennifer will be considered our press conference queen. What’s sad is that she is picking up where I left off, and I accomplished a lot, I think, in two days. And they’re PAYING her!!! I was going to go in tomorrow and VOLUNTEER my weekend to pull the conference together. Shit. Am I stupid?

Jennifer is going to get the glory, and that’s what burns my muffins. But least I don’t have to fuck Jackie to keep my job, though. 🙂 Something tells me that I might just perhaps be getting the better end of the deal.



Friday Five

October 18th, 2002, 1:43 PM by Goddess

Just a few minutes on a lunch break I shouldn’t be taking. … 🙂 Mmmmm …. Popeye’s cajun nuggets. …

1. How many TVs do you have in your home?

Two. Tiff’s is in the living room; mine in my bedroom. I never even used to sleep in my old bedroom, when I lived alone. Now, with the TV in there and the computer, there’s no reason to leave. 😉

2. On average, how much TV do you watch in a week?

Entirely too much. Depends on when I’m home, ’cause I flip it on when I enter my Batcave, and I turn it off when I leave.

3. Do you feel that television is bad for young children?

Depends on what level of fuck-ups their parents are. When TV is used as a babysitter, it’s bad for them because kids can only be exposed to so much trash before their brains turn to mush. (Adults, too, I suppose.) And I’d hate to envision a world where children are watching the violence on the news without a parent there to explain to them what is happening in the world.

4. What TV shows do you absolutely HAVE to watch, and if you miss them, you’re heartbroken?

In no particular order, “ER,” “Will and Grace,” “Friends,” “Real World,” “West Wing” and “Trading Spaces.” And of course “Sex and the City” and “Six Feet Under,” when it’s their seasons to run.

5. If you had the power to create your own television network, what would your line-up look like?

All Jon Bon Jovi, all the time. And some breaking news. And “Trading Spaces.” And “Brat Pack” movies. 🙂



Wonderful

October 18th, 2002, 5:07 AM by Goddess

A supposed witness gave false information in the most recent incident of the beltway sniper case. Thanks, asshole. A shooting happens in my county, and some FOB moron tampers with the case, just so he can get some presstime. What is this world coming to?

My conspiracy-theory radar is up again. Was he planted on the scene, to give a false account, so that Sniperoo could get away in a different vehicle than described? Or was he thinking that he would be safe in describing a cream-colored van with the left taillight out, because other witnesses had given similar accounts in previous cases? Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ.

The cops are telling us to discount what that non-witness said, which leaves us with the following description of Sniperoo:

1. Shoots people (we’ve confirmed he uses bullets, not bows-and-arrows)

2. Uses a vehicle (as it’s difficult to shoot people from the Metro)

3. Male (no one has disputed this yet, although what kind of man would do this?)

4. Likes to drive (have gun, will travel).

Well, that makes me feel safer than ever! Christ. Now to go off to work. Dare I say that my gas tank is gettin’ kinda low?



More search string fun

October 17th, 2002, 10:31 AM by Goddess

1. madonnarama nation dc

2. cat crap

3. d.c. sniper wedge theory

4. made to straddle a board against my pussy

Lawd, I guess I post some really weird shit, to attract all this attention. 🙂 At any rate, Madonnarama is on Saturday night!!!!!