Twenty-three days from today will mark the one-year anniversary of my "lay off" from a cardiology group that I had invested a lot of my time and energy in to. When I say a lot, I mean it was like I had a career! I wore high heels and painted my toenails and tried really hard to not roll my eyes and furrow my brows. However, I still had opinions and it was part of my job as the sole person in HR to express them. This did not go over well with the new CEO. Really, it was for the best since he was a racist, sexist asshole. The things that would come out of his mouth made my intestines kink in horror that there still exists people like him out there in the world. Seriously, it was obvious my breasts weren't big enough, and I kept forgetting to ask how high I was supposed to jump. If that was not bad enough, seriously, it was really really bad (a room of white people and one Hispanic woman, and he makes a joke to the Hispanic woman about her new role being to clean the kitchen and tidy up after the rest of us), he was constantly touching himself. I called him Twitch. Every time he came in to my office, he made sure to grab at his balls and give them a good pinch, and of course he was standing and I was sitting, so this gesture was almost in my face. Twitch, twitch, pinch. He did this all the fucking time. Even some of the men noticed, and started to comment on it. While I am at it, one of the cardiologist had the same problem, but his at least didn't look like a power play, like he was trying to put the women managers in their second-class places. Stop touching your genitals in front of your employees, men, it is just not appropriate. If you have to tweak your damn gnads every 3 seconds, you may want to see your family doctor. Otherwise, go to the bathroom or close the door to your office and take care of business.
My next job was hard to find and hard to get, and money-wise and coworker-wise it hardly seems worth it, but I have great medical coverage and my boss is hilarious. I can also play on my laptop all day and still get an above-average rating on my performance review. Go me. After 3 years of working my fingers down to my elbows, it is kind of nice not to have any real responsibility and zero stress. No one calls me on the weekend to yell, and I can take lunch every day to read by a creek. I am grateful to have a job and the time to clear my brain and use this extraordinary insurance to see a lot of doctors to start working out all the goblins in my brain.
The Xerox saga still goes on, and now the whole floor is buzzing over what a good writer I am. I'm barely trying, but I guess when you talk about emergency intervention and putting a copier on Prozac, people laugh. Now one of the people in PR wants me to "explore" writing for the company's newsletter. I'm not so sure about that--I mean, what kind of parameters would I have to fit myself within? I mean, if I can not say "birth canal" in reference to some project being completed (as in "it shot out the birth canal ready to sprout formulas and pivot tables."), then what can I say? Would I be allowed to write about Twit, and all my office etiquette rules and consequences if you fail to follow them? No using the cellphone in the crapper--I will fart and flush the toilet at least 3 times. I have a feeling it would be more like I'm assigned to write something about the employee of the month, and that I would have to use facts that highlight how awesome this person is for the office, not how awesome this person is that she does cocaine off the back of toilet lids at every party she goes to, and that she has a tattoo on her lower stomach that says with an arrow pointing down, "Find the Good Bits Here." Surprising myself, I did agree to "explore" the possibility.
Even though it is very hard for me to believe it is October, it should be a pretty good month if this fucking rain would go away. Had a nose bleed at work today, and of course it was happening right when someone needed me to do something for him. Awesome. When's that promotion coming already? I can bleed from the face AND work. Who is more awesome than me?
Tomorrow I have a play date with a certain Hispanic woman from a certain company that felt that after 8 years of extremely complex financial work for the company, who worked 60-80 hours a week including weekends while having two kids, it would be best to quip that she clean the kitchen. I cannot even tell you how much I adore this woman, and how unexpected it is that we became such good friends. Very different backgrounds, but same minds and anxieties. I'm sure she never thought she'd be friends with a woman covered in tattoos who can even make sarcasm wince with her snarky remarks. We're a great pair: she's 5'11" and I'm 5'3". She has her little boys and I say "boo" to children. We both drive out of a parking lot calculating our routes so we don't have to take unprotected lefts, and obsessively over think every move. As she says, we "suck the life out of it." It's so true. I love her. With her new job (back up to at least 50 hours a week) and family time, we only get to see each other once a month if we're lucky. She has taught me to appreciate and respect that people have awesome families they want to spend time with, and she is the first friend I do not begrudge her commitments that are outside of my worldview (meaning no marriage, no children). We're aiming for a dinner and a movie. If "The Time Traveler's Wife" is still playing, we might go with our hands over our eyes, peeking through and groaning every 2 minutes. Then we will go somewhere and pick it apart, and declare our eternal love to the book. We will then marry the book and make many novelette babies. It will be awesome. If TTW is not playing, we will probably see Bright Star and swoon all over each other, until we realize how emotional we got and pretend that we are much more stoic than that. We are tough and have no feelings, ok?
Other happenings for October include seeing Hope Sandoval & The Warm Inventions and the Pogues. I've seen Mazzy Star and Shane MacGowan. Now I get to see them in their new and old bands respectively. It is my hope that I will get to rub Hope all over my pink bits and kiss her ears and eyelashes. Then bring her home in my pocket where she can snuggle with Johnny Depp and Kate Winslett. I'm sure The Boy won't mind when I bring her to bed and command her to sing "Halah" to me every night before I fall asleep. I want to play with her hair and snuggle in to her neck. Now, as far as Shane goes, he said some pretty racist remarks the last time I saw him, so I was a little hesitant to see him again, but The Boy bought tickets and I'm hoping for the best. He will not be going home in my pocket--I'd worry that Johnny, Kate and Hope's hair would get snagged on his teeth and he'd be all lecherously drunk and grabby hands. Shane cannot be allowed to fondle the hotness in my pocket. That is for me only. Or for each other--they can totally fondle each other if they let me watch.
After October and what will probably be a horror show of costumes at work, I get to look forward to my impromptu trip to San Francisco during the first weekend of November to visit my best friend and her husband. I had been really hoping to take a vacation with The Boy to NYC where he has several friends and I have a secret lover that I have been dying to spend some time with. Don't worry, he knows how much I love this amazing woman. We have something special between us that is completely innocent yet sparked with such dirty thoughts! She's my green-eyed minx with red curls and a smoky voice that makes me melt. We don't communicate often, but damn, I think we channel each other. We know that we are tethered and our thoughts are traveling over an invisible thread back and forth full of love and support. However, this is only a mini-vacation and The Boy will stay home where he will be super busy with work and the PS3. I promised NYC to be something I do with The Boy, so my enchantress will just have to wait a bit longer for me.
I'm having an IM conversation with a friend where he feels that the show Bones has not only jumped the shark but is actively fucking it. To which I commented "with a long blue-whale's wang." He disagreed and felt it was being fucked by a tiny tiny phallus; so I suggested a chihuahua's? He seems unwilling to speculate. I get to see this man in a month! Isn't that awesome?
What makes this trip even more awesome is the plane tickets were only, ONLY $219 roundtrip. See, there are advantages to a depressed economy.
I have not heard from Wikus tonight--I should go check up on him, make sure he's not watching Grey's Anatomy and drinking whiskey. Though, watching it may help with the ladies. I'm conflicted. Now I need to think for a bit.
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