Caterwauling

So I saw Shan’s new office space. I believe that my bathroom is bigger than it, only my bathroom doesn’t have 1960s gold carpeting. 🙂 But she has access to a huge lobby that will be all hers, and there is a boatload of storage space, as well as an elevator-shaft-cum-locked-storage-room.

It’s kinda like the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree — we’re just gonna wave our hands and watch that, um, special little space become a corporate empire. 🙂 At any rate, she signed the lease today, and she gets the keys on Monday. The owner’s name is Samba (phonetically spelled — I have no idea how to really spell it). I decided our first book about our road to success will be “Saturdays with Samba,” as we’ll be working weekends there — as a parody of “Tuesdays with Morrie.”

Thank god for the extra space — I am quite the claustrophobe. But what’s cool is that there is a spa downstairs, and I plan to make friends with those folks REAL quick so that I can sample their services (hopefully for free). Shan decided to keep her business hers, and I will keep the party-planning business as mine (but we’ll help each other out, natch) for tax reasons. And of course, we always have each other as a loyal client. lol. My first idea was to invite all the tenants of the three-story building together for a Get-To-Know-Us soiree — so that we can build our client base as we charm the life out of them with our poise, grace and connections. 🙂

As Shan’s dad says, This is where it all begins. In fact, he is flying out here on MLK Day (or, as we called it up north, Robert E. Lee Day, as it is his birthday, too) to see this scrawny space before we whip it into shape. He wants to see our humble beginnings, so that he can remember it when we skyrocket to the top of our chosen fields. And it’s cute how he includes me in her success — I told her, it’s like the Pope coming for a visit, like I should be ready to bow down and kiss the man’s feet. She raves about her dad (none of my friends rave about their dads — I don’t really even know mine, but I do know that when I make it, I am going to find his deadbeat ass and send him all the wonderful press coverage I know I’m going to receive). Ahem. At any rate, it’s Friday, it’s 10:30 p.m., I’m here for the night ’cause I’m broke, busted & disgusted, but I am enjoying myself. Put together Maddie’s kitty sofa today, and it’s so damned cute I just want to hold my hair back and puke. Seriously. It’s wrought iron and matches all of my furniture. Unfortunately, I was just taking a photo of her on it when I got a knock at the door tonight, so she headed for the hills, the camera battery died, and well, my computer’s too outdated to handle my camera software anyway. Keep an eye on Maddie’s page to see a photo of her on her new sofa in the coming days!!!

So I sent Frosty the HR Queen a note just now via e-mail. If IKEA Boy can rant and rave and be pissed off about his own situation, well, then I am going to fight for myself, ’cause I’m the only one with enough passion to do it. Here goes nothin’:

Hi (Frosty),

Thank you for your consideration,

(The Goddess Dawn)

Shan and I are going to see her (our?) new office at lunch today, so she can sign the lease. Woo hoo! We have so many plans, so much to do. She’s so on-the-ball — already has the phone and insurance stuff worked out. Even if it starts out that I work there as a support to her existing business, so be it, although I do want to get my own business license this month, too. She has warned me that the space is small and kinda crappy, but that the owner has pretty much given her carte blanche to go nuts and spruce it up. IKEA Boy should be an interior designer, he’s so damn good at making spaces livable and lovable, so I plan to haul his ass up there and tell us what we need to do to make it a place to call home.

IKEA Boy is down in the dumps about no tuition reimbursement for him, but while I feel bad for him, I am for once going to indulge my own dismay. I wonder why we can’t take it out of our own budget to give me the $5K increase I was promised — god knows we keep tightly to our budget and don’t spend unnecessarily. That, and our expenses are predictable — printing, mailing, address quality, supplies, etc. I am certain we can squeeze my own $5K out, and maybe another $5K for his tuition. It’s very difficult for me to see him depressed and poopy and wallowing in his misery when I am sitting right in my own puddle of grief, with no one throwing the ho’ a tow to get me out of my personal abyss.

I am hoping that Shan’s office is the ticket she and I need to make things happen for us this year. Once I have a business license (and can earn a little bit of money), I can finally invest in an iBook and write it off as a business expense, and I can move on to building a website and a corporate image and all the other fun stuff that will accompany the venture. Stay tuned for the update on what the office looks like!!!

Oooh, Maddie’s kitty sofa just arrived! So much for it arriving in time for Xmas, but granted, our office has been closed for two weeks and it’s not the retailer’s fault. It seems small. I hope it supports that fat furry ass of hers! 🙂 Perhaps I can bring it (and her) to our new office to keep me company on the weekends that I anticipate working. 🙂

I missed the last one, and I’m wondering WTF Question 5 has to do with the theme, but oh, well. Here goes nothin’:

1. Do you wear any jewelry? What kind?

Oh, I am the Imelda Marcos of the sterling silver jewelry world. (I used to work in a jewelry store, so I stocked up.) While I’m a trendy gal and have tons of hemp anklets and fimo bead bracelets and the like, I always revert to good ol’ sterling silver. It lasts forever, it’s simple to clean, and it’s cheap to replace when you lose or break it (as I tend to do when I have stones in my jewelry).

I used to be big on stones (hematite, topaz, malachite, lapis lazuli, azulite, etc.), as well as their meanings (i.e., hematite promotes good blood circulation), but that has faded over the years. I swear, my memory only has so much capacity — either that, or I’ve done enough drinking and smoking to blow away some of my functioning cells). IKEA Boy gave me this great, heavy silver bracelet with stones, which might just be tanzanite (I’m still checking on this), and there are neat markings through the stone that are presumably made by sand (it creates gold swirls). But for the men reading this blog, y’all are probably asleep already, so I’ll quit. 🙂

In summary, though, I love shiny silver, not matte, and I while I am wildly attracted to jewelry with stones and crystals and other funky adornments, I know that I will wear each piece to death. And I’m really pissed, but I had this gorgeous ring with crushed opal that got lost in my last move. I’ll bet it’s on the moving truck, ’cause everything else was intact (broken, but intact). I miss that ring. 🙂 I didn’t wear it that often because I didn’t want to break it, and look where THAT got me!!!

2. How often do you wear it?

I am NEVER without my trusty silver earrings, rings, bracelets, necklaces, toe rings and anklets. Yes, I’m one of those hippie freaks who wears toe rings year-round. 🙂 I love my jewelry and have about a thousand pieces, at least. I just also painted my armoire black with silver panels, and I stenciled silver stars all over the black — just paying homage to all the silver contained within. 🙂

3. Do you have any piercings? If so, where?

You are going to have to turn me over to find out the answer to THIS one!!! 🙂

4. Do you have any tattoos? If so, where?

See Question 3. LOL. Actually, I’ll save you the trouble. No. My weight fluctuates way too friggin’ much, so I don’t want to have a butterfly turn into a catepillar and back to a butterfly again, just ’cause I changed my eating/exercise habits. 🙂

5. What are your plans for the weekend?

Being pissed off because my job doesn’t pay enough for me to even make the rent this month. Take that, Club Med(icated)! Fuckers. I guess I’ll be sitting my impoverished ass in my room and cleaning it, as well as making sure that the shared space stays clean. And if I’m feeling particularly ambitious, the tree’s coming down, although that’s a lotta crystal and lights I just DON’T feel like dealing with!

Would still be a dumbass, no matter what it’s named.

So this dipshit legally changed his name to Jack Ass in 1997. I’ll spare my thought that a lot of men should change their names to that (lol. oops, too late!). But he says it was to raise awareness of the perils of drunk driving. Perhaps he should, instead, have gone with Dumb Ass? Or, as my gay friends would say, Poop Dick would be rather fitting — ’cause he’s still full of shit, no matter how you look at it.

At any rate, he thinks he’s going to get $10 mil from MTV’s “Jackass” show for tarnishing his sterling name. I can’t imagine how one who legally changed his name to Jack Ass actually would expect anybody to take it any less than literally. …