Out-of-the-box thinking

April 14th, 2004, 4:10 PM by Goddess

Instead of writing how much I want to beat the shit out of the CEO today, who again pitched a bitch with me in public that I reduce to the fact that he just can’t admit that I am more talented than his little girlfriend, I leave you with something profound:

An eccentric philosophy professor gave a one question final exam after a semester dealing with a broad array of topics.

The class was already seated and ready to go when the professor picked up his chair, plopped it on top of his desk and wrote on the board:

“Using everything we have learned this semester, prove that this chair does not exist.”

Fingers flew, erasers erased, notebooks were filled in furious fashion.

Some students wrote more than 30 pages in one hour attempting to refute the existence of the chair.

One member of the class however, was up and finished in less than a minute.

Weeks later when the grades were posted, the rest of the group wondered how he could have gotten an “A”” when he had barely written anything at all.

His answer consisted of two words: “What chair?”



Pittsburgh nostalgia

April 14th, 2004, 6:56 AM by Goddess

I am too busy at work to take a road trip back to the motherland this week, so I will miss Bon Jovi and John Kerry at Pitt on Friday. But if you’re in the area, go throw some panties at Mr. Bon Jovi for me, will ya?

And Tiff gives us a mental walking tour of the Strip District. *sigh* I can just taste the Mancini bread. …



Conference photos!

April 13th, 2004, 3:57 PM by Goddess

Well, I’ll spare you the photos of other people, but the night of our opening par-tay was quite the alcoholic fiesta. No food, nine or 12 glasses of Chardonnay, and well, you get this:

You should see the rest of the photos. I don’t even remember taking them!



Happy Apocalypse!

April 12th, 2004, 9:26 AM by Goddess

Subtitle: Sweating like a whore in church

Instead of wishing folks a happy bunny day, I much prefer to wish them a festive apocalypse — read: I went to church.

Not just any church, of course, but the Washington National Cathedral. Like, the kind you have to get tickets to in advance (props to Shawn there — I would’ve said fuck it if it took that much effort!).

The place was so packed that people were standing, just to see the services. The sermon was good, actually (did I say that?), mostly because it was about how politics and religion really shouldn’t mix. They also wanted us to bless the president, the veep, the house, the senate and everyone in power to make the right decisions and do the right things. I didn’t really feel like giving Dubya a blessing, but in the context of hoping he won’t always do dumbass things, I suppose I could get with that program.

He also mentioned crazy drivers in the D.C. area and us otherwise godless creatures. Did he KNOW I had shown up? That was pretty scary! I was waiting for my picture to show up on the dozens of Plasma TV screens situated all around the building!

In any event, I was sweating my ASS off at church, and I had to keep reminding myself, “Inner monologue!” every time I would drop something and go, “Oh for Christ’s sake!” I leaned over to Bryan and said, “God damn, I’m sweating like a whore in church!” and I’m lucky he didn’t smack me. 🙂

I had gone into the bathroom prior to the services, and someone had shat up a storm in my stall prior to me — the funk was wretched. I had asked the boys if it were a sacrelige to shit in church, and they thought I was nutz. Of course, when Shawn felt the “urge” an hour later, he declared that church just scares the shit out of some people. LOL. Case in point, don’t we all look miserable? …

We didn’t stay for the whole production — we’d seen enough of the future molested altar boys of America, in any regard, and besides, we were hungry and Shawn had to poop. We had a lovely lunch at Popeye’s and went to Shawn’s, where he made us a fabulous 14-pound turkey. Bryan and the late-arriving Paul made us some awesome side dishes, and we killed the strawberry shortcake I provided. All in all, it was a holiday of new traditions with new and old friends, and at least this year (I did go to church last Easter, dragged by Shan and her husband), I didn’t twitch like Linda Blair when holy water was thrown on her during the whole service. 😉



Damn

April 12th, 2004, 9:14 AM by Goddess

My site looks great in Safari.

*kicks IE 5.2 to the curb*



Because I care

April 10th, 2004, 8:45 PM by Goddess

In my next life, when I get my party planning business together, I am starting a store that caters to gay weddings. And, at Shan’s request, I will open up a preemie store right next to a hospital. It’s all about the underserved populations here — my background in philanthropy and meeting unmet concerns is speaking wonders to me tonight!

I swear, I was just looking for stuff for Bryan and Paul’s union ceremony next month. I picked up a few dozen bottles of wedding bubbles, but I also wanted to get champagne flutes for the grooms. I stopped at a party store, and I found out I would have to buy two sets of glasses to get a pair of “groom” glasses. On the upside, if ever I attend a girl-girl wedding, I would always have a pair of “bride” glasses in the junk closet. Naturally, I didn’t buy anything, but I was mildly annoyed nonetheless. I also went out looking for “bachelorette” wear for our party for Bryan on May 7, but unless he wants to walk around the dick bar with a veil, I can safely say that I struck out on that account, too. Bah.

And because we’re in dreamland here, I want a store that makes flattering formal dresses for those of us who wouldn’t be caught dead in strapless, clingy dresses. In my maid of honor role, I would like to look the part, not as some just-shy-of-30 overgrown harlot in a prom dress. Only the mother-of-the-bride dresses have sleeves, and of course that means they come with cow prints or other floral disasters to make your ass look wider than the Beltway.

I stopped at the ever-hellacious David’s Bridal to try on some dresses that were on sale, but I wasn’t allowed to enter the fitting room without a “bridal consultant.” Jeebus Crisp. It took me five minutes to decide that the cheap taffeta wonders made me look like a wedding cake, although I couldn’t tell because they don’t put mirrors in the fitting rooms — you have to go out and be herded with the rest of the customers to share one huge mirror. I didn’t bother leaving the room — I could tell that I looked freakish. I did find one dress I liked, but it was $208, and I ain’t spending that on a single-wear beaded extravaganza. You know, I’ve been making my own jewelry lately, but I think I need to start learning how to sew so I can make a decent dress without the side of humiliation found in the dress shops. Gaah.

All in all, another (un)productive day here at the ranch.



Orgasm

April 10th, 2004, 11:36 AM by Goddess

I got my new G5 at work yesterday. I spent the day trying to break it. Well, not break it, as it will be long to the Veggie Patch editor’s office for at least the next 14 years, but I was multitasking and having way too much fun with it. I have officially turned into a geek, as I believe my seat was a little bit wet when I decided to leave for the day. iChat, iTMS, Photoshop CS and Quark 6 and all the cool features they offer are enough to get me off now. And yes, it’s been a full year since I’ve had real stomach-slapping, hair-pulling, ravage-me-till-I’m-raw sex, so I have to take my kicks where I can get ’em. 😉



Friday Five

April 9th, 2004, 1:02 PM by Goddess

Mine are up! Mine are up! *squeal*

Ahem.

1. What do you do for a living?

Monthly newspaper editor-in-chief extraordinaire. Part-time entrepreneur who always has ideas but never the energy to act on them. I also lick my wounds after I offer my employers great ideas that they, well, treat like a bird treats a windshield.

2. What do you like most about your job?

I imagine the day I resign will stand out in my “best moments of Dawn’s lifetime” collection.

I love my colleagues to death. Insert the standard shout-out to Scot, Angie and Shan for keeping me motivated to give my best once in awhile. 🙂 And, of course, for keeping me sane and smiling, albeit deliriously sometimes.

3. What do you like least about your job?

MicroMcManagement. People who clearly have nothing left to give to the organization but who are promoted and kept above us to squelch any ideas/initiative/desire to live, breathe and grow.

And today, I fucking HATE the mailman, who sent me a ripping memo because I needed for him to do his job of mailing something for me. He copied it all over creation. God forbid I ask him to find a box to mail something in — you have to e-mail the office manager to get a box, she gives you the box, you have to stuff and tape and label the box, and only THEN can you give it to the Mailroom Director. What the bloody fuck? Is that under “other duties as assigned”? And the H.R. person fucking loves him and refuses to hear criticism over him. I was ready to fucking punch him today. I still might, if he hadn’t jetted out because of the furlough afternoon. 😉

4. When you have a bad day at work it’s usually because _____…

Pussy Demure!TM needed to meet with me at least once. That would kill anybody’s will to live.

5. What other career(s) are you interested in?

Public relations, philanthropy and being Simon Cowell on “American Idol.”



I should know better

April 9th, 2004, 9:33 AM by Goddess

So I was sittin’ on Duke Street, waiting for the light to turn so I could make a left turn. I was yawning and in mid-stretch when the light turned. Immediately, the asshole behind me laid on his horn. As my arms were already in the air, I flipped him off in the rearview mirror and slammed on the gas. Wouldn’t you know that son of a bitch FOLLOWED my ass around half of Alexandria?

I pulled into a 7-11, next to an empty police car, but I didn’t turn the car off. Asshole pulled in next to me, wound down his window and started cussing me out. I backed out in a hurry and jetted the fuck out of there. He followed. I did manage to lose him in traffic awhile later (I drive like a nutcase, so I am rather difficult to keep up with, even though you can see my big stuffed Garfield clinging to the window from a mile away), and I went to another 7-11 for coffee and a carton of Camel Lights. I guess by that point I had lost him, although I wasn’t sure but I thought he might have been in the lot of the second 7-11, but being that he hadn’t thrown a bomb into my open sunroof, I assume I am safe. 🙂

It sucks that some dumbass would follow a fucking GIRL around town because she flipped him off. Christ. What did he want to do, beat the shit out of me for reacting to his impatience? Did he think I would actually get out of the car for him to assault me, whether verbally or physically?

Oh, and it’s a furlough day. Remind me why I got out of bed for this shit?



‘Spotless’

April 8th, 2004, 10:30 PM by Goddess

OK, so I have been forgetting to post it, but I went to see “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” on Tuesday. I had gone out and bought a bunch of jewelry-making shit (which so far has only yielded a pink-and-black necklace) and decided to see a movie (as I was dead tired and that was all I could manage that day).

I have to say thumbs up. It’s dark — much more so than the previews would lead you to believe. I just can’t stand Jim Carrey, or I probably would have loved it. Maybe give us an Orlando Bloom type to look at, and it would have been much more enjoyable. 😉

But it gives you a lot to think about — for as much as someone hurt you, do you want to eradicate them from your memory bank entirely? I mean, I shudder and snarf when I remember certain folks from my past, but really, even for as much as they broke my heart, they are a part of me (even if it’s the part that turned to gangrene and had to be surgically removed).

I ran into an old friend today. I still have a lot of unresolved hurt from that friendship, but I’ve been feeling like we were going to cross paths (it’s literally been years and hundreds of miles since we were close). Turns out that we live down the street from each other and work in similar fields. She seemed thrilled to see me (she approached me) and wanted my number. For a moment, I was taken back in time to a place where we were inseparable. And I wondered whether we could ever be close again — whether I should say, “You know, it really frosted my flakes when. …” or if I should just feel, “Hey, in a city of half a million people, we must’ve been destined to run into each other.” I don’t expect to be best friends, but particularly as Shan is preparing to make the move to Oregon, maybe I need as many allies as I can secure, even though nobody in this world can replace her.

Of course, there is always the hope that the old friend and I can just say fuck it, we’re here now. Let’s start over from the new places in our lives. And I don’t expect to be really close again, but it’s a lonely city and friendly, familiar faces are hard to come by.

Related, I keep getting calls from someone else who disappointed me. And I guess I can’t expect people to know when they’ve failed to meet my expectations (which were pretty minimal, but still), but another part of me is like, “How fucking clueless are you? I haven’t returned your calls for 10 months — get the goddamned hint!” It’s like I’ve really tried to make a clean break from everyone and everything that entered my life during that particular time — mostly because it was a conflicting series of heartbreak and numbness that did nothing but sap my energy and other things. It’s like I took the big eraser to those years — to those people — just like in the movie.

I was talking to my desiger today, and he was talking about someone who would have said, “Erase this!” in response to a particularly crazy story I told him about someone who asked me out recently (whom he can’t stand; nor can I).

I thought that statement was really eerie — I have always, always used as my coping mechanism the visual of a huge blackboard with a huge-ass eraser. Whenever I would be haunted by images of something hurtful or annoying or some other piece of mental clutter, I would envision myself writing it on the chalkboard, and I would slowly, deliberately erase the entire board until not a speck of dust remained. And the crazy part is that the nightmares would vanish — I don’t remember anything I “wrote” on the blackboard, and maybe it’s just that I entered some form of denial, but I really did wipe out some really traumatic memories. Between the conversation and the movie, it kind of unnerved yet comforted me that other people do — and want to do — the same damn thing.

In any event, insofar as making you think till your brain hurts, the movie’s an 8. Kate Winslet was hotter than Jim Carrey (and she’s so cute with her American accent and tangerine-colored hair), so I’ll go 6 on eye candy.