Caterwauling

Normally, I want to hold my hair back and yawn in Technicolor when I hear of other peoples’ happiness. But I take exception when that person is Shan, my darling blushing bride friend.

We had a lovely little mini-reception for her today at work, whereby everyone looked at the photos and said what a lovely dress she had (hey, I know — I was there to pick it out!). But they should’ve said what they meant — that she was a lovely bride. Judge for yourself. 😉 And get the tissues ready. …

Shan on the beach at sunset in Maui — Monday, July 7, 2003

Shan and John after they said their vows. The minister did a Hawaiian ceremony and also did a blessing for baby Alex, who is set to make her debut in late September. …

Shan and John with their tropical cake and matching bridal bouquet

Three hours with the photographer yielded various stages of sunset photos. Doesn’t the third one remind you of the old “Virginia is For Lovers” ad?

This, my friends, is what I want. A wedding/honeymoon with a special person in a faraway land. Shan was so bummed that I wasn’t there, and hasn’t stopped reminding me of it. 😉 But just to show what great friends we are, I had sent her a text message at 9:24 a.m. (my time) on July 7, but it bounced back as undeliverable, so I resent it at 9:30 a.m. to the right number. At the same time, she awakened at 3:24 a.m. (her time; also the same time I sent the first message) and thought about calling me. And then when my message arrived a few moments later, we were connected, despite the time zones. I’m glad she’s back here, but I’m even happier that the wedding went off with nary a detail out of place. 🙂 Congratulations, friends!

1. I am really cranky when I have a cold. I’m even bitchier when I’m going through withdrawal, after not having a cigarette for a week. Grrr. …

2. Packing is therapeutic (although a cigarette would be even more so). Especially when I can finally see my bedroom floor ’cause everything that was strewn upon it is now in a box somewhere.

3. I have more boxes than I have square footage in the current apartment.

4. My entertainment center and overstuffed couch are huge! God, how the hell are we going to lift those items?

5. A dreaded Pittsburgh trip is in short order (did I mention how much I hate the drive?). I need to get my microwave that’s in my mom’s closet, as well as the grill she and my grandfather are buying for me.

6. Moving party or housewarming party?

7. Mixed feelings about becoming a mommy again. Right now, I have to convince Maddie that she needs to be a good big sister, after being an only child for seven years. The adoption is this coming Saturday, but the little four-pawed wonder will move in with us once we inhabit the new place. Am I ready to go through the new-mother phase again? 😉

8. Not paying bills is liberating while you’re throwing away the invoices, but that only means that I’ll owe triple (at least) once I’m settled at my new Seminary Road address.

9. A washer/dryer in my apartment has been the ultimate amenity. I will miss it so.

10. Liz Phair’s new CD rocks. Live’s, however, does not. And I’m madly addicted to Michelle Branch’s new CD. And I made my own CD compilation today, called Insidiousness. Seemed to fit the state of things. Need another name for a CD I’m burning tomorrow. Any thoughts?

11. Scott and I were reminiscing about drive-in movie theaters. He is looking to sell the idea of going to one to Clown Feet, at which time I listed the benefits as being something along the lines of enjoying films, flasks, foodstuffs and fags (the cigarettes, of course!). Damn it, now I want to go to a drive-in! A Super Wal-Mart replaced the last standing one in Pittsburgh. Something about wearing my cutest jammies so that I could fall asleep in the car brought back warm memories of my ex-stepfather jerking me awake because he had paid for my admission.

12. My heart is soaring because Shan’s back from Hawaii. The bad news is that she has to set foot for the first time into the Veggie Patch tomorrow. Cruise Director is springing a surprise donut-and-bagel gathering for her first thing in the a.m., so I warned her about it. She hates surprises. She thanked me, as she likes to roll in late and avoid the people she hates who get there early. Heh. Now we’ll all be gathered like one big Manson family, in her honor. Oh, the humanity. 😉

13. My mom, Shan and Shawn are my heroes these days. It’s not that they necessarily talked me off a ledge, but I think that, if it came to that, only they could. They have a tendency to say what I’m thinking, without me saying it. And I value that more than they know, because it shows either A.) I’m not crazy, or B.) If I’m crazy, I’m in good company. *hugs ‘n ‘at, friends*

Okay, I adored my interviewee today. I feel like I am a terrible interviewer, as I ramble and lose my train of thought, but as I told this gal, I was actually feeling nervous because I wanted to impress her, in addition to her wanting to impress me.

I have two more candidates tomorrow, but something again is telling me that she is the right one. Even H.R. loved her. But we have two men coming in tomorrow, and we might have to sacrifice talent if one of them is hot enough. 😉 We need some men around this place — there ain’t nothin’ to look at in these hallways, other than the ghostly visages of presidents past.

I decided I don’t want last week’s candidate. Her personality was great, but she didn’t have the experience in Quark, Adobe, etc. that I need for the candidate to have. Her design experience was limited to Publisher and clip art. Eeek! But the gal today knows her layout and design, and she’s a good writer and photographer. And my big deal is that I don’t want to pigeonhole the person into certain responsibilities — I want the person to spread their wings and do what they’re great at and learn the stuff they don’t know so well. Likewise, maybe some of the duties I am keeping for myself would be best delegated to that person, in time.

I also had my discussion with the workplace violence folks. It was interesting, but I failed to pick up any pointers. 🙂 But it seems that I exhibit all the signs of being a loose cannon — loss of interest in the work, a subpar performance review (which H.R. actually encouraged me to challenge!), emotional changeability, lack of interest in socializing with colleagues, failed personal relationships, work is my life, career frustration, antagonistic relationship with supervisor. … 😉 Yeah, I’m a clear candidate for going postal. 😀

Figures, just after Charlotte goes and converts to Judaism, Harry drops her and moves out. They had a nasty fight, of course, but she had a point with, “I gave up Christ — you can give up the Mets,” which she said after she prepared her first feast and all he wanted to do was watch the game. Just goes to show, don’t ever, ever change for a man. And damn it, he’d bought her an engagement ring, which he announced on his way out the door, before he sent for his things.

Carrie and Berger hit their first rough patches in their irritatingly saccharine-filled relationship. She made a small criticism of his book, and he blew it to epic proportions and was frustrated with her through the whole episode.She loved his book, but he didn’t want to hear that part. Turns out that the book wasn’t selling so well, so her criticsm, however mild and humorous, was like the proverbial salt in the gaping wound. So he hurled a comment at her about her stupid hat (which was, in fact, stupid), but she wasn’t having it. The question of the evening for her column was, of course, when will women shut the fuck up. And in this instance, she wasn’t even going to hold back. He was really making her feel bad, when he had the weight of the (publishing) world on his shoulders. But all’s well that ends well, and they chatted and got over it and ostensibly fucked till they forgot.

Miranda had a good date with a real estate guy, only for Berger to tell her that, if the guy didn’t book a follow-up date (and that he’d supposedly call when he wasn’t so busy), then he wasn’t altogether that interested. She was hurt at first, but it gave her such a lease on life — that at least she wouldn’t be waiting around for him to call when he suddenly became un-busy. She shared the gospel with some gals who were talking about when one of their boyfriends would hopefully call, and they thought she was a bitch.

But I loved it — I realized long ago that when men say, “I’ll call,” I tend to know that it’s time to forget that I ever knew them — better to do it before the fantasies and wishes hit. Because, believe me, it’s a lot harder to extract yourself from a dream than it is to get off of life support, because dreams kind of are our life supports. And when the dream goes away, we tend to either lose our identities for awhile or simply become afraid of dreaming again. I think I’m in the latter state, personally, for reasons best left unexplained, although admittedly, life is really tough to take without any escape from behind the steel fortress you’ve so carefully constructed.

We experienced a reprieve from the whole Miranda-Steve-Debbie triangle, but previews indicated that it will be back full-force next episode. Fucking wonderful. Miranda, he’s a dipshit if he doesn’t want you! Move on, girlfriend!

Although, on that note, I must admit that when I dropped by the SATC website last week, I participated in a survey that revealed 92 percent of us want Steve and Miranda to get back together. So, for the hardened bitch I’ve become, I guess I still hope that the right people end up together. 😉 Or, again, that Debbie gets run over by a speeding subway train.

But I digress. The funny part is that Charlotte fixed Miranda up with a great guy at the end of the show, and after they had a spicy curry dinner, he split. She said, look, just be honest and tell me you don’t want to see me again. It’s OK. And he said, actually, he rather liked her and would like to set up a date again in the near future. She pressed him to just stop trying to fake it like he’ll call again, when she knows he obviously won’t. His response? “Look, I need to go now. I have diarrhea.” ROFL. Miranda, obviously, was now SOL. 🙂

Samantha, oh dear Samantha. Shawn called me immediately after the show ended so that we could wax poetic about her. She looked absolutely gorgeous tonight, and she was fucking Jerry Jerrod, the waiter/actor, in a variety of roles and disguises. But when he wanted to be just Jerry, the recovering alcoholic, she bolted. *Poof* Gotta admire a girl who has no time for reality.

I’m not at my best tonight, and my fingers hurt from really landing a mean punch into a wall. Blogging was best left offline this weekend (it’s neat to have unrestricted sadness, snarkiness and a steaming cup of bitter with no one looking over your shoulder). Work will be chaotic this week (I went in today, actually), as will packing up my house for my annual move (did a bunch of that, too, this weekend). I’ll be fine, just so long as I don’t pack up my liquid salvation … the alcohol. 🙂

Perhaps I will stop coughing up hairballs long enough to answer these questions.

Actually, this turned out much more emotionally than I would have wanted it to. Either get the bottle of Jose Cuervo handy, or just skip it altogether. I’ll be back to dicks and sluts and cunnilingus in a *coming* (heh) entry to offset this ode, I promise! 🙂

1. Do you remember your first best friend? Who was it?

Sure do. His name was (is) Judd, and we met in the fifth grade. We were next to each other in alphabetical order (as you know how important it is to line kids up by name during those formative years), so we always sat together, had lockers next to each other, etc. And then we just became fast friends — I never did get along with the girls, only the boys. We stayed friends on into college, but with some rough spots in between that drove permanent wedges between us. He will always hold significant real estate in my heart, though — a lot of years, laughs, jokes and tears happened between us.

2. Are you still in touch with this person?

Nope. I wished him a happy birthday this past Dec. 10, when he turned 29. I’d had a dream about him the night before the birthday, and when I woke up, I realized that it was that day, and I dropped him an e-mail. I never expected an answer back, and I didn’t get one. There’s too much water under that bridge to ever cross it back to each other, but if he ever needed me, I’d be there in a heartbeat. And I should hope that it wouldn’t kill him to be here if ever I needed him. But we may never know.

This may sound way too morbid, but I was thinking about willing him my earthly possessions when I die. It’s mostly my writings that I’d want him to have. No matter what amount of contempt and/or apathy he feels toward me, he was the first person who loved my writings and encouraged me to take my fictional works to the moon. I would imagine that he, in his ass-kicking mode, would get my stuff published, even if just to spite me. 🙂

3. Do you have a current close friend?

I have too many to name, stretching the four corners of the planet and back again. If we’re talking geographically close, we’ve got Shan and Shawn, who are like my siblings. And Dave. And Tiff, of course. And in Pittsburgh, there’s Susan. And in Minnesota, there’s Chris. And in Ireland, there’s Leslie. And on … and on. .. 😉

How funny about this question — I was looking at my list of numbers in my cell phone, and I realized that there are more than 50 names, and I haven’t talked with 80 percent of those people in more than a year. Those were people I’d never dreamed I could live without.

4. How did you become friends with these people?

Shan and I started at the Veggie Patch together last July. I dropped by her desk to say hello to her (as I had started only days before her, and I wanted to extend a warm welcome to the other “new girl”), and we chatted for a half hour straight, about business and life and friends and love and public relations and god only knows what. I don’t know — something felt right when we connected — like we were long-lost sisters. We had a million things in common, and we thought very similarly. Both of us knew, from that first conversation, that we’d met a kindred. We firmly believe that we were meant to collide in this world, and frankly, we truly feed off of each other and keep each other sane and strong.

Shawn, as he lovingly tells on his blog, approached me on “The Bridge” that connected two of our college buildings together. The Bridge was home to many memories for us in college, but definitely the day he came up to me to talk to me about writing for the collegiate newspaper was quite a memorable one. My friends — all sophomores like me — thought he had been stalking me and that he was a cute little freshman with a crush (little did we know that we both loved cock equally. …). Anyway, I was an editor, and he wanted to write for me, and he ended up writing a terrific story. When I called to thank him, he answered his phone, “Shawn’s House of Tacos.” And after that, we were inseparable. We’ve had ups and downs, but when things are great, they’re really great, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world (Jon Bon Jovi in a thong, maybe, but that’s it).

Dave, I met on Valentine’s Day of this year. We were reading each other’s websites, and he suggested we hang out and keep each other company on this most wretched of holidays. He made a really sweet post on his website about me right before we met, and I was charmed. We ended up taking a dance class together and worked beyond the usual surface-level conversation during weekly donut runs. He’s another one of those people that I knew I had to meet and to have in my life, in some way.

Tiff came to work at Two Strikes, and she impressed me with her work ethic and her ever-expanding skill set. I was supervising a merry band of incompetents, and I take some credit for approaching Her Royal Pretentiousness and suggesting that if we could bring Tiff on staff full-time, I could really use her in the development department. And then, six months later, we ran screaming out of that place together, and we landed here in Alexandria as our refuge. 🙂 Although we’re not going to be roommates after this month, I hope the fabulous friendship we’ve cultivated remains intact, 250 miles from where it all began. Oh, and she set up this blog, so blame her for it all!!! 😉

Susan and I passed each other at Two Strikes a lot, but as I was damn near forbidden to socialize with anyone, I didn’t say much to her at first. Her supervisor Danika sat next to me, so she was always in my area. But then when Brat left the job and Susan was being promoted up to my floor, I think it was that I joined her and Tiff for lunch one day at Chez Capri, and we’ve been talking ever since. That’s the thing about Two Strikes — the white people (all seven of us) really banded together, after having HRP continually excoriating us because we weren’t her relatives. 🙂 We bonded over work issues and realized that there was a special spark of friendship that had been there all along, and although I am terrible about keeping in touch, Susan never lets me go too long without reminding me how much she cares about me.

Chris and I met at Easter Seals. In her job there, she replaced a male Chris, who was one of the great loves of my life, so it was weird for me to warm up to her at first. But who could help it? She has beauty, brains, charm and a WICKED sense of humor. One night, out of the blue, we went to dinner together at a special place called Kaya, in the Strip District, and had a very memorable conversation, over fabulous Jamaican jerk wings, that neither one of us was expecting to have. And though the physical distance now keeps us apart more than we’d like, she’s another person I know I was meant to bump into in this universe, and we’ll always be in touch in some form or another.

Leslie came to me through Chris, when they volunteered to work at a gala event that I was running. Leslie is one of those people who will care about you long after you’ve given up on yourself — she will be your No. 1 cheerleader and believe in you and tell you how much she believes in you until you start to see her point of view (and no, she won’t lose that argument). She got me through a veeerrrryyy hard time in my life, when everything literally went upside-down. And the thing is, both of our lives were in a state of chaos, but she really put me first and, ever since then, is the first person to come to the rescue when I need anything. Not to mention that she’s on the complete opposite side of the world!

5. Is there a friend from your past that you wish you were still in contact with? Why?

Funny, but I was talking with Shawn about this on the Fourth of July, when we were waiting for fireworks to begin over the Washington Monument. I was missing my old roommate Janna, whom I met in August 1992. We were placed into the smallest room in our entire dormitory, room 1808. It was our first time living with a roommate, and in cramped quarters, to boot! Through the years, we lived together off and on for about four or five full years (I lived with Shawn during some of the other years, and with some other truly fucked-up roommates as well). God, we were close. She really was like a sister to me, and her quirky sense of humor made for lots and lots of good times for us. I just remember us laughing all the time. We cried together a lot, too (damn synchronized mentrual cycles!).

We really started growing apart during the last year that we lived together. My suspicion was that she somehow got her hands on my journals and realized that I’d slept with her ex a few times (after they’d broken up! What kind of girl do you think I am?!?!). By then, I was starting to get irritated with her in general (roommate issues), and when we moved out, it was truly like a divorce. I always hoped we would become close again, but it never really happened. But we will always remember how good it was when it was good.

The last time I saw her was on St. Patty’s Day 2002. We’d maintaned a friendly e-mail banter, and I was shocked and happy when she invited me to attend the big parade and festival in Pittsburgh’s Market Square. Our mutual friend Becky was there, being herself. I had lost touch with Becky (purposely) in June/July 2001, so it was weird to see her. We were cool, distant and polite toward each other. Maybe Janna told her why I stopped talking to her. But then again, Janna could keep a confidence like none other. So we’ll never know. But while Becky was constantly dumping her problems on me and calling attention to herself, she never knew that I was going through the hardest time of my life. She never asked. And I never reached out to her, because I really felt like she couldn’t handle a real problem if she fell over it.

After the parade/fiesta, we all went out to lunch (after getting sloshed all morning in the streets), and I had to leave to meet Tiff and Tom at Chuck E. Cheese (their first date. awww! hee hee). I said goodbye to Becky, and I hugged Janna. Tears came coursing out of both of our eyes, and we locked our gazes as I walked out.

She sent me a birthday gift in the mail last year, and we’ve traded maybe five e-mails since then. I’ve had a stack of birthday gifts sitting here, waiting for me to see her or to just fucking mail them already. She crosses my mind often, and I hope she is enjoying her life and that she’s found what she’s been looking for, whatever that is. I miss you, old girl. I couldn’t have gotten through those formative years without you.

I have dreams about her. I feel like she might be engaged to her fabulous boyfriend Matt. I adored him, because he was so clearly in love with her, not to mention that he’s adorable and just plain chivalrous. 🙂 But I don’t know if she ever felt the same way toward him. I kind of admire her, really, for being able to control her emotions so well, but I suppose one could say that I learned a lot from her, in that respect. Maybe that’s why our own friendship was so special — when we finally broke down and showed some weakness, we could safely do it around each other. She was hard for a lot of people to get close to, but I seemed to have no problem. I just hope that, throughout this life, she doesn’t run too far away from me, because I’m tired of losing these once-in-a-lifetime friendships. 😉

Daily summary:

* Got a shitload of work done

* Got my nails done

* Coughed all over everyone (w00t!)

* Got reamed by e-mail from a member, who of course sent it to 10 people. Not only that, he sent them every single e-mail we ever exchanged. And all this came after I warned him that a story I had written was not going to appear last month, but that I was holding it. He shredded me. Don’t tell me how to do my job, fucker. There are people here who already have that luxury. So fuck off.

* Got the interview with the experts on workplace homicides!

* Am on my way to go spend time with Kenya and Kaioro. I am missing “Grease” with Dave at GMU tonight, but the self-induced quarantine is necessary on so many levels.

* Am boycotting the Friday Five this week. Shawn paid a lovely tribute to me, and I am grateful for it, but I just don’t feel friendly enough to write about friends today. 😉

*updated

Ok, I am still feeling like shit from my nasty cold, and coming to work certainly isn’t making me feel better. Not to mention, with all kinds of crazy crap going on next week, I’m going to be in here all weekend, when I should be packing.

H.R. left me a message that she didn’t like yesterday’s candidate as much as I did. She said she has some “professional concerns” about her. What, I have no idea, as I left early yesterday and she’s out of the office today. Shit, she had (and probably still has) “professional concerns” about me, and I think I did just fine, thank you very much. This leaves me to wonder who, exactly, will have the final say when it comes time to choosing the winning candidate.

I’m really starting to feel the way I did at Two Strikes — that I am not “allowed” to make the decisions that I am supposedly empowered to make. We already know that I will never again have the final say on the newspaper (for instance, I’m struggling with an OpEd piece today that I know will incense the powers-that-be, although it’s a very good piece). And now, I know I have other people to interview, but if I had to hire the gal from yesterday, I’d do it in a minute, but only if they’d let me.

Anyway, I feel pretty useless when it seems that my decision-making ability is questioned and/or on the line. I’m good enough to work like a dog, but not good enough to carry out my own vision of what the newspaper and the department *could* be. Every day, it seems, my heart breaks a little bit more. And I resent having Demure having a say-so in everything I do, because although she’s a nice person, the “professional concerns” red flag should be raised in her direction, too. She’s always so busy supervising what everyone else is doing (including people not in her department) that nobody really knows what she’s supposed to be doing, and frankly, I don’t think she really knows, either.

Going to work is like starting kindergarten all over again — you might have left your mommy’s watchful eye, but now you have complete strangers telling you what you should do and who you should be. And all it makes you want to do is poop in the sandbox and run with scissors — anything just to show your individuality and rebellion. And there is no room for rebels and individuals in the land of conformity, but if it pays your bills, you really can’t have much to say, can you now?

UPDATE

I am getting an interview with these people. Why not turn my bubbling “office rage” into a story for my readers? Here’s to hoping they can be interviewed on Monday … before it’s too late. 😉

David Duchovny to star on “Sex and the City”. *drool*

There is actually a song devoted to him. Bree Sharp, who performed at the recent Fairfax County Fair, had a minor hit during his “X-Files” fame with a lil ditty that goes:

“It’s Sunday night; I am curled up in my room

The TV light fills my heart like a balloon

I hold it in as best I can

I know I’m just another fan

But I can’t help feeling I could love this secret agent man

And I can’t

Wait anymore for him to discover me

I’ve got it bad for David Duchovny

David Duchovny, why won’t you love me?”

Yeah, we know which CD I’ll be listening to on the way to work. *swoon*

I spent a half day at the Veggie Patch, after Cruise Director came into my office and said, “I thought you were supposed to be so sick?” I said I was. So he said, “Well go home then.” I said I came in to do an interview. He laughed and said, “Well, then, will you go home after it?” I promised I would.

I notice with him, like I noticed with Her Royal Pretentiousness at the last job, that he doesn’t make eye contact with me. When HRP decided she was over someone (i.e., couldn’t care if they lived or died), she refused to speak to them, just at them. Even though the conversation was warm and funny, I felt more alienated than anything.

Speaking of the interview, I loved my interviewee. Bright, funny, on-the-ball and creative. I could see having her on my team. I told H.R. that I definitely want her for a second interview.

I have two interviews next week, one Monday and one Tuesday (god forbid I get the paper out, as editorial deadline is Thursday and we have a two hour managers’ meeting on Wednesday). I am excited to meet the one on Monday (the witch, if you read my earlier entry). The guy coming on Tuesday is about three times my age and is pushy as can be. AND he’s flying down here from New York for the interview.

H.R. and I tried to dissuade him from coming — what with the entry-level job, the low salary, the lack of help with moving costs, etc. We both worry about his pushiness — that he will cause me headaches if I would hire him (and I’ve had enough bad staff members to know that I have to be a bitch from day one with his type). H.R. is also worried that he will simply be taking this job just so he has a job; meaning, once he would get settled in D.C., he’d be gone in a couple of months, and onto better things.

I’ve learned a lot during this hiring process. Tiff had made mention one day, when I was ranting about another pushy interviewee, that now she knows what people think when they decide whether to interview you or not. This one girl from out-of-state had sent an e-mail to someone in our company (who works in Indianapolis) who handles career services for our members. The e-mail stated that she was going to be in D.C. in three days and wanted to meet with us. Well, the off-site chick sent the e-mail to Shan on a Friday evening, who sent it to me on a Monday afternoon when I was working at the print shop, and I got the e-mail on Tuesday evening when I finally worked through my 250 e-mails. So, of course, we missed the girl while she was in town.

I don’t know — I thought her e-mail was terse, and I decided I was never going to let another brat steamroll over me again (a la Two Strikes, where I had HRP’s illiterate goddaughter as the No. 1 thorn in my side, next to HRP’s position as No. 1 bug up my ass). It’s funny how much our past experiences influence our future actions, but how can they not?

Anyway, I skipped giving my interviewee a writing test and whatnot. I figured H.R. had probably grilled her for a solid hour (which she had) as well as told her wonderful things about the Veggie Patch (again, affirmative). So I told her flat-out that I wanted to get to know her — her impressive resume had gotten her through the front door, but it would be her ability to click with me that would get her back through it again. Whether she was surprised or not by my tactics and bluntness, I will never know. She simply jumped on the bandwagon and prepared to play hardball. And I loved it — we laughed and really took a lot from the conversation.

I wish dating were like the hiring process. I wish I could ask for resumes and line everyone up outside my office, once I approved their cover letters and writing samples. I would love for people to compete for my respect and affections — not just demand it or not care one way or the other what I feel. And if I wouldn’t find anyone to choose from that pile, I could just run another ad in the WaPo and start the search fresh.

Ah, hell. Let’s face it — I want mate-shopping to be like Toys ‘R Us. I want to buy the Hulk doll with the two-inch penis and I want to buy Ken with his plastic cup penis and hell, I’ll buy a Barbie, too. And I’ll pick which one I like and return the rest and get my damn money back. 🙂 But till that day comes, I will just revel in hiring a competent sidekick to make my job a lil bit easier.