July 25, 2006

Random Musings and a Magnet

I�ve just had no time to update lately because of crazy work demands, unwanted guests, and Project Runway. What a nightmare.

As soon as we got home from yet another wedding, we had guests from Rhode Island � CD�s cousin and her teenage daughter. These guests were not invited; CD�s cousin left a message on our voicemail stating that she and her daughter wanted to visit D.C. and she indicated which dates she would be staying with us. Period. Who does that? This is someone we see once a year, at Christmas.

So CD called her and said that I work at home, and since my office is in the extra bedroom, and since we only have one extra bed, it wouldn�t really be practical for her to stay with us for a whole week. Everyone thinks that my working at home means that I work whenever I feel like it, but I�m actually on a regular schedule just like everyone else in my company, and my boss knows when I�m working and when I�m not. Cousin was like, "No problem. We don�t mind." Well, guess what? I do mind.

Since CD�s biggest flaw is that he�s just too nice, he didn�t tell them to get a hotel room like regular grownups, but he did make it very clear to them that I need to be in my "office" before 8:30 every morning, which Cousin said she understood.

Well, it ends up she didn�t understand so much. As soon as she got here she started saying stuff like, "Well, if you�re not there at exactly 8:30, are they really going to know?" Um, yeah. I told her that I have really needy and cranky clients who call me in the morning as soon as possible, and if they have requests at 8:30 and I�m not answering my phone, they�ll call my boss. Also, I�m remotely connected to my computer at work, and my boss can see everything I�m doing when I�m doing it.

Even if this weren�t true, though � she was told ahead of time what the deal would be. If she didn�t like it, she SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN A FUCKING HOTEL. I didn�t need snarky comments like, "Oh, we�d better hurry up and get out of here; I wouldn�t want you to get fired if you�re not sitting at your desk at exactly 8:30." Dude! You are staying at my house for free! Put The Bitch away!

I did feel bad, though, that they were here when it was approximately 8,000 degrees outside. They came back from sightseeing every night looking as if they�d spent the day in a sauna. They also borrowed my car, which of course has no AC, so that wasn�t pleasant. They also had to share a bed � but again, they were warned.

Now they�re gone, and we actually don�t have any plans until our friend KMac visits in a couple of weeks. Friend visits are very different from awkward relative visits, though. They�re much more pleasant, and I don�t have to be so fake-polite, which is nice. Also, KMac loves my cooking, so I get to experiment while she�s here � and I can always count on her to be honest if I make something not-so-good. The only problem with having KMac visit is that I always shop when she�s here because she understands stuff I don�t (like curtains and lamps and shit), so the notoriously cheap Meta cries about spending her money after KMac blows through town.

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So I�m embarrassed to admit that I am totally obsessed with Project Runway, which is so completely NOT like me, I can�t even tell you. I hate Reality TV, but I just can�t stop watching this show. Maybe it�s Heidi Klum and her constant pregnancies. I think it�s actually because I�m in love with Tim Gunn.

I�m so obsessed, in fact, that I actually watched the Miss Universe pageant just to see the Project Runway dress on Miss USA. Now, before watching this pageant, I didn�t realize that Miss USA and Miss America are two very different things. Apparently, Miss America is the one that pretends to be a scholarship program, and it includes a talent portion and an in-depth interview segment. Miss USA, leading to Miss Universe, however, is all about being hot � at least from what I could see. For instance, the winner, Miss Puerto Rico, listed as her hobbies (and I swear I am not making this up) "watching reality TV" and "being social."

Also, her dress:

Reminded me of Rose McGowan�s from her Marilyn Manson days:


Not exactly the wholesome image that the Miss America pageant presents. I don�t think someone with her tits smashed up against her chest in that manner could have won that "scholarship contest."

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My supervisor didn�t end up going to Aruba, after all; she went to Florida instead, and hated every minute of it. She called me to complain about Disney World, and the heat, and the lines, and blah, blah, blah, Ginger, blah blah, blah, Ginger, blah, blah, blah� She then told me that she mailed me a present, and she asked me every day for like 2 weeks if I�d gotten it. You�d think she mailed me the Shroud of fucking Turin the way she was going on and on about the package. When I still hadn�t gotten it after what she deemed a respectable amount of time, I asked her if she had written "Apartment 418" on the package. She was like, "Oh, no! I wrote NUMBER 418! Do you think that�s the problem?" Er, no. No, I don't.

Actually, the problem was that she had used the wrong zip code. She used the zip code for the town next to her � in Massachusetts. For those of you just joining me, I live in Virginia. The present was wrapped in blue scented toilet paper, and it is glorious:


But wait! It's also a MAGNET!!

Thanks, Lipstick. It was worth the wait.

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metanephros at 1:02 pm

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