Caterwauling

Lunch was good. I helped Shan to set up and decorate the shindig. Other than a handful of people showing up early and trying to sample the food before it was ready to be served, it went well. Some of these folks are just pigs, though — several went back for seconds before half the group even got through the line. Oinkeroo! Shan says they all need to get some class. Especially Jean — the Town Crier’s useless assistant (perfect — they’re both useless) was in all the food with her fingers and shit. I wanted to break her fingers on a number of occasions. Incidentally, she dribbled BBQ sauce all down her purple shirt. Priceless.

Shan and I had a ball, though. We were laughing and cracking jokes and making the event as painless as possible.

Just also had our post-mortem meeting on the California adventure. These people hate hearing anything remotely constructive or, god forbid, negative. I sat with the executive director and made comments under my breath. He was kind of annoyed with me, but I basically said I’d e-mail my commentary to the conference staff, as every time I made a suggestion, I got slammed. Ergh.

Long day ahead. Meetings are finally over for the day, though — now to do some work!

Tuesdays just suck. They are the absolute worst day of the week, save for “American Idol” episodes, when I remember to watch. 🙂 Tuesdays are sandwiched between the hell of Mondays and the joy of three more full workdays after they are done. There ain’t nothin’ to look forward to on Tuesdays … it’s like having some scandalous underwear wedged into your ass that you can’t pick out right away because you’re in a room full of people you need to impress.

Speaking of having objects jammed into one’s nether regions, today will be consumed by a mandatory staff luncheon (!) and a meeting right afterward to decompress about our adventures in California. And tomorrow, I begin the first of weekly mandatory supervision meetings with Pussy Demure. She had a piss fit on me yesterday about blowing off the last meeting she tried to schedule. Um, what part of my e-mail (sent Saturday afternoon!) that said, “I’m deeply concerned that the number of mandatory meetings I must attend will greatly — and negatively — impact the production of the magazine this month,” did she MISS?!?! Gawd, I had it good for awhile when I started here — I was dirt-ass poor, but nobody really even noticed if I showed up or not. Those were the days. …

But I hear King Kumquat, the executive director, purchased an $800 lunch out of his own pocket for us. Can you imagine? It’s all barbecue and ribs and chicken and shit too — reminds me of, oh, every luncheon ever held at Two Strikes (although at Two Strikes, we also had to have cornbread, cornbread-battered fish, cornbread-battered chicken, spinach and greens with every meal, too, so this is a marked improvement).

Speaking of Two Strikes, I am trying to interview one of their less literate employees for an article I’m writing on foster care, which is their specialty. I chose this person based on position only, not for ease of interview. She expressed a great deal of apprehension, at which time I actually e-mailed her the questions and told her to knock herself out. (One only could hope that she would knock herself out … permanently.) I left a message for My Hero last night, asking if they were afraid I would write about how much I hate the agency. lol. I have an interview for that same story today, but if Dumb Bitch at Two Strikes doesn’t come through, I don’t have a story. Humph. Like I need anything else to do — I already have six stories (none of them done yet) and the production of the paper in general. Kill me.