Clearwire: Not So Clear

Dear Clearwire,

You suck.

I wish I could say it, or scream it, to your stupid black modem-face however your connection is so awful that I am forced to write this from work. What's that you say? Yes, I should be focused on updating my current Excel spreadsheet and continue to play personal travel agent to myself as I layout my upcoming work-related travel. Unfortunately I have been reduced to only checking my e-mail/blogging/facebook chatting while at work because my computer is completely useless at home no thanks to your "new and improved" Clear service.

No matter how many times I move you, or how far I distance you from my router, you still continue to suck. All. The. Time.

I hate you.

I loathe you so much in fact I am seriously considering Comcast. After wasting yet another hour of my time LiveChat-ing with one of your useless P.O.S. customer service people, I have lost all hope. As if I don't have other things to be doing...like searching for new shoes on Endless.com or watching 3 consecutive hours of Law and Order (thank you USA for feeding my addiction, leaving me sleep-deprived and late to work, I really do love you for it.)

Luckily for you the Comcast LiveChat operator was just as helpless, useless and ding-batty as your customer service. She bought you an extra few days before I pull your plug. And thanks to month-to-month contracts and no right-to-life laws for ISPs, your plug will be pulled.

So enjoy what weak and little bandwidth you have left, because it will be your last. Something tells me you have exhausted even that, making you more dysfunctional than when I left you this morning. Had there been a massive snow storm, similar to that of 2008 during which I was forced to "work" from home, I would most certainly already have dropped you 19 floors to your eminent death.

Again, I hate you.

Best of Luck in 2010 you crappy waste of Internet.

Always,

Lara

This is inedible.

I have to tell you about this woman that came into Sostanza last night. I can only hope that I am NOT that crabby when I get to be her age.

Apparently she is a regular, which means nothing to me since I only work on Mondays and I consider "regulars" to be the customers that come in, smile at me and give me a hug. Otherwise, they don't count. Parkies can be too high and mighty sometimes, therefore I get to use my discretion as to who gets the title role of "regular."

My first encounter with her was Friday, during a shift I picked up from Sean. I was in the weeds with a full section of tables that were all within minutes of each other. This is my general substitution for cardio and hot yoga, since the combination of stairs and heat are the equivalent to a work out. The new busser, who is hands down the most annoying person I have ever met in my life, decided it was acceptable to take her order and relay it to me. Don't worry. I'll get to tearing him apart later.

Anyways, she came in again last night. And in my best effort to pay attention to her, strain my hearing as to not have to ask her to repeat herself and do everything with a non-stressed smile - she was still completely rude to me. I could use a slew of swear words including but not limited to: wench, asshat and b*t%@ but instead I'll chalk this one up to old age. I would like to think that anyone over the age of 75 is like my Grandma and the friendliest person alive. Turns out, not so much. Even after comping her a dessert, which she also hated, and discounting her bill she still didn't tip me yet proceeded to pretend like I had fixed her life's problems.

What a grinch.

Oh, and also, those are TENTACLES not fish tails and calamari is supposed to taste like that. My other 15 customers who ordered the EXACT same thing as you had no problem with it, therefore you are wrong. Next time you send me into the battle field that is our kitchen telling me something in inedible, please remember to give me an accurate description of why your food tastes like shit, otherwise the next thing served on your plate will my fingers. And I guarantee you the chef will not be as friendly as me.

I like rabbits!

Ah yes, the Christmas break. The last day before break is still the hardest day to get through. Unless you are like me: a total slacker who can manage to waste away an entire day on GChat and Facebook...in which case the time ticks by as slowly as ever. Regardless, my brain is already on vacation time. Five days without work...Margot just left and asked if I would be checking the voicemail messages tomorrow.

My answer: no.

I'm on vacation bitches.

Most of you know what is going on in my dating life, but for those of you that need a little update, here you go. Nikki recently introduced me to a nice guy, and verbally slapped me for not recognizing a "good" guy when he is right in front of me. Getting my ish together and my focus on track, I decided she was right and jumped in head first.

This did not go as planned. And you would not believe how ridiculously awkward I am. I am like the Chandler in your world of Friends. I make jokes to cut tension, avoid eye contact when uncomfortable and God knows I blush with the best of them. I would like to think that I never was an awkward person...however recent situations are starting to make me wonder.

Let's take last Sunday for example. After what seemed like a fun 'date' of me bouncing off the walls with holiday spirit and coffee to mask the severe hangover that I had been fighting off, I was slapped in the face with reality. Now, I don't think the conversation that followed was out of the blue, nor do I think it was unwarranted. That being said, I felt about as tall as my heels...without me in them, which is roughly 3 inches for those of you a little behind on the shoe-know-all. I'm not sure it's possible to come out of a "casual dating" conversation on-top, unless of course you tear off all his clothes and literally straddle said recipient. I did not opt for the latter - though maybe I would have felt less awkward had I - and was left feeling weird and unsure for the rest of the night.

I did wake up with a massive sinus infection the next morning, but I don't think that it was at all related to Sunday's conversation.

Perhaps I am being too vague for some of you. You might just have to deal with it this time, even though I am only connected to the conversing-party in a casual type way, I still respect his privacy.

This brings me to the next boy: a former co-worker. One I had a crush on for just about as long as we worked together, including the time he had girlfriend. I seem to enjoy the boys that I can banter with, maybe it's because I don't have to take them too seriously. Just like my relationships. Anyways, one awkward (I am going to need to find a new word) happy hour and several GChats later I found myself greeting him on a sidewalk in Greenlake mid-ugle sweater party. Hey, it's the holidays people. And guess what? We totally made out. Did NOT see that coming. I am also starting to believe that I might be more naive than I either care to admit or am aware of...more than likely it's the latter.

So I leave with with the following YouTube video that is one of my all time favorites. Seriously.

Yeah, I'm broke - but where's my bar tab?

Do you ever do that thing where you know you should check your bank balance but you don't want to because you know the result will be depressing? I certainly do. And being sans roommate now, it seems that writing a large, unavoidable rent check everything month is not only a reminder of how costly it is to be an adult, but also how annoying it is when I don't plan ahead.

The good news is we are planning a trip to Vegas in March. And I have super cute new jeans that I got on sale...oh, and my rent was due. I should probably take care of that. Eff.

;)

Mmm...feelings. Yum.

Not even kidding, I actually have been eating like crap the past two days. And I am pretty sure I am drinking so much coffee that I'm one Venti from an ulcer. Enough about my beverage intake, and back to my eating habits. Firstly, I just finished dinner at 10:35pm on a Thursday. I somehow managed to make it out for yet another "quick" shopping trip pre-dinner, thanks to an 8 oz. Americano. There I go again, with the coffee. 

Moving on, I don't know if I have literally been eating my feelings. I certainly haven't been eating like someone who wants to lose 12lbs, I can tell you that much. I did realize today though, upon seeing a book cover, that the concept of eating ones feelings is a horrible paradox. Eating everything that I see while wondering if or when my phone is going to ring probably won't make my phone ring any faster. Similar to the age old adage "a watched pot never boils," a stuffed stomach has no relationship to which cellphone tower sends what signal if a signal has never been sent.

My next point, the weight gain associated with said eaten feelings probably won't be pretty. I'm not sure about you, but I know that I have the ability to eat a large amount of food in a short period of time. That being said, depending on the period of time in which my, or your, phone has not rang, a significant amount of actual gain in poundage can occur. As if we didn't have enough insecurities prior to whatever has caused this porkalicious behavior. 

Bringing this train to it's final stop, if the phone doesn't ring for, let's say, a month and you, or me, think about it everyday you could gain like...FIVE POUNDS. And if it's the holiday season, I think statistically speaking that number doubles. I wasn't a math major, so I am not sure how accurate that really is but that isn't the point. Now that we have gained all that weight, I bet whoever wasn't calling us before is going to be thrilled that we can't fit into our pants anymore. I'm just saying. 

Ok, maybe that was a little extreme. I am simply suggesting that the literal eaten feeling really isn't going to help anyone except your butcher...and possibly Weight Watchers. 

The good news for you is, caffeine is an appetite suppressant.  And there is a Starbucks around the corner. Also, remember while your phone isn't ring, dinging or chiming that he isn't worth 5lbs -- that's 10lbs November through December. 

People that I l-o-v-e

I just wanted to mention that I love the following people:

1. My mom - aka Momma T-K

In the past 5 months, she has been a beacon of determination, hope and never-ending persistence. She has shown me that with a positive attitude, a person has the internal strength to overcome anything. Including loss of eyelashes...however, there is a small part of me that thinks she relishes in using synthetic. Mostly only because she passed that on to me. ;) Loves ya, Mom.

2. Seth Wilkin - who also has some fancy-schmancy Army title that is too complicated for a civilian such as myself.

Though he may have a constant tan, Seth is currently deployed to the sand trap of Afghanistan. Pukes so much.

And there he is, on the homepage of MSNBC. Proud, yes, but it also brings tears to my eyes thinking of him being over there...him and all of the other brave soldiers. I don't support the war, but you can bet I support my troops. Seth, you are a kickass friend. 

The D.E.N.N.I.S. System

As an avid follower of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, I was more than entertained by this last weeks' episode entitled "The D.E.N.N.I.S. System." Dennis educates the gang on his tactics to landing girls, then essentially Jedi Mind-Fucking them. The system is as follows:

• D – Demonstrate Your Value
• E – Engage Physically
• N – Nurturing Dependence
• N - Neglect Emotionally
• I – Inspire Hope
• S – Separate Entirely

Only from a show as totally whacked as Sunny could I see this one coming. No matter what you call it, being DENNIS'ed or Jedi Mind-Fucked, it amazes me how easy it is to fall into the trap of your own head. I can think of various songs that reinforce awkward emotions, such as Colbie Caillat's "Realize." Vom.

I mean, I only listened to it like 3...4 times today. I probably should have stuck with "Over and Over Again" with Tim McGraw instead. It just feels like once you start to care, the tables turn and the opposite party no longer does.

So yes, I called my mother in hopes that she could osmosis me her patience, because when it comes to a text message un-returned I want to pull my hair out. There is something about the waiting period that makes it painful to do anything but look at the screen of my iPhone. She, of course, is full of genius ideas that only those of biological decent are privy to.

"He let you go. This is not a hard one to figure out. Iris, in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You..I..I..can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you are acting like the best friend."*

A good friend of mine told me she never liked the initial stages of dating. She told me she found it awkward and stressful. Forced situations that were no where near anything resembling comfortable. And I never got what she was talking about. I never understood her dislike for something I considered to be so carefree and entertaining. I suppose that is the narcissist in me. Who wouldn't love someone paying attention to you in hopes that you might return the favor?

"I...I'm interrogating you. I haven't been on a first date in a long time.."*

Then my dating light-bulb moment happened. I finally got it. Once you have had someone, or simply found someone, that knows you inside and out -- someone new seems dismal in comparison. It's all small talk, and getting to know you's. It's awkward...and sometimes painful. But, I guess, if you can get through that...it might just be, well, meant to be.

*quotes from one of the best movies ever: the Holiday

And one more thing...

I forgot to mention that upon seeing Richie, instead of ignoring him I said hi. (I'm so nice, right?)

He asked if we had any extra booze and/or weed, to which I responded that he "would know better than me" where to find the latter. And, no, I drank the booze I brought. Kthx.

A Weedy Run-In

I don't know who remembers back to August when I met Richie (how could you not) but my awkward, unplanned run-in with him this weekend at the Apple Cup tailgate has inspired me to finally record that ridiculousness that was Richie. His "professional" name by the way is Rich, or so I am told by my boss -- but we'll get there.

I met Richie on a Thursday at Happy Hour in Fremont. Courtney and I were catching up, and it was no more than 20 minutes before my encounter with him that I had said, "Where are all the pot-smoking loser-retards I used to date?" He was by far the cutest of his group, and seemed to have some potential. I mean, he wanted to go on a zoo date. How cute is that? Please note that him having a zoo pass did not set off any alarms in my head that he was a complete and total stoner.

In addition to our anticipated Saturday zoo date (on which we were going to double with Courtney and his friend Eric), Richie insisted on taking me to dinner Friday night and practically made me swear on my Nordstroms Visa that I would not stand him up. Seeing that I had plans to go a Bing.com sponsored party with the Twins, we set it up for an early dinner date...annnnd I was stood up due to lack of effective communicating. If he ever signed up for Match.com, selective listening would be a definite trait listed.

Regardless, I let it go. Who was I to hold onto one mis-communication? (Read: Lara is a pushover) Plus, I met a totally retro-Microsofty at Friday's night outting that gave me hope that the sea is still full of legitimate, normal fish. And Richie text me promptly at 9:30 am. It seemed my dating-table had turned within a short 24-hour period. Win!

Note: preemptively declaring a win is a set-up for dramatic failure.

Several things happened between that first text message and the end of my Saturday, including but not limited to the following: meeting him and Eric at Norm's before 11 am -- the bar section, a DRH (delayed reaction hangover), Richie giving his number to girls at the bar that wanted to buy weed...don't ask me why I didn't walk away immediately. Just don't. The e-mails to follow are what resulted from said "date," if you could call it that.

K: So Lara, any details about the stoner boy? You spent all day Saturday with him!

Me: Oh.My.God. Like I mentioned to you K, he is sooo clingy. I was with him all day Saturday because I had no out! Every time I was like I am going to go do this -- for instance, take a nap, he would respond with "you can take a nap at my house..i won't come in." It was like the never ending day of reasons for me not to leave. Then when I finally did leave he was like when are you coming back? Agh. Too much. And did I mention that at some point he asked me to dinner and told me not to fret because he would sell some weed before so we could go out to eat. Winner? ...NEEEEXXXT.

Oh and the capper?

My boss is his neighbor.

K: OMG I just laughed out loud. Love the fact he was willing to sell drugs to pay for your dinner. And he lives near your boss so when you want to spend the night, your boss can just give you a ride to work. Perfect-you can’t let this guy go! You need to find me one of his stoner friends.

Me: Done and done, K. He has a few other winner friends. There is Erick, who is not that cute, a little bit pudgy with a two-year old and a custody battle. He doesn't smoke as much as my obvious winner, nor does he sell so I am not entirely sure how he will be able to pay for the lifestyle you require. BUT he does live on 3 acreas of land in a house he bought and owns his own non-drug related business. Then there is the Arabian guy who has a son and owns a limo company with his parents. Take your pick.

Also, at some point I was offered said drug money in return for my hanging out with him. That makes me one slutty action short of being a prostitute. Watch out Julia Roberts, here I come!

K: I just cried I laughed so much. And then my officemate asked me why I was crying/laughing so I had to divulge the story. Don’t worry though I kept your identity a secret so they can’t link you as the girl that made out with Eric.

As for offering you money to hang out with him, I don’t even know why he would think that’s an okay thing to say on a first date. Did he pay his other “girlfriends”? I think I’ll take Erick-he sounds like my type to a t. I love kids and dealing with an ex-wife sounds like never ending excitement. Since he doesn’t sell, I could always make him go into business with Richie to pay for my lifestyle.

But the Arabian guy sounds too good to be true- he would probably pick me up in a limo on our first date and what girl says no to the guy in the backseat of the limo?

Me: Ok time out "that girl who made out with Eric"? I'm super emabarrased now and would like to know why anyone would ever know me as that!? Ah!

Please do share said story with all. I actually find it to be quite amusing myself as I asked Courtney Thursday night right before meeting Richie "what happened to all the pot-smoking loser retards I used to date?" and then the universe thought "hmm if that's what Lara wants, I'll giver her the best possible loser retard that doesn't just smoke weed - he's gonna SELL too."

I really think you'll like Erick. But I have to note, he was never actually married. He just doesn't like condoms. And who wouldn't choose having a kid over a little extra friction during sex? Jeez, I certainly would.

As for the Arabian limo driver. I can't be certain but per your comment to saying no, i am almost positive that is where Erick got his ex-never-wife kncked-up. There is something about ceiling lights and tinted windows that sets the mood, yknow?

K: My officemate didn’t know what your name was so he and ben asked me “what is the name of the girl that made out with eric?” and that’s a direct quote. Don’t worry now you will forever be known as lara. I’m glad the universe found you another guy that surpasses all others before him. Erick and I will have amazing double dates with you and Richie. Maybe the Arabian can drive the four of us around for a night on the town in the limo and the boys can make enough “stops” along the way to gather enough money to buy us dinner. Erick really sounds like my type- maybe I can look him up on Myspace?

L: OMGGGGGGG you guys crack the hell out of me. K, what really made me laugh out loud was seriously picturing you with this baby dady and his weed, with the Arabian limo driver. It was you, telling him to go to some fancy restaurant, having to deal with the baby mama and all....omg cracking up again. :) And Lara, when are you going out with Erick again???? At some point make out girl has to turn in to next date girl :)

Me: K, I am thinking we should not only double-date with Arabian limo driver as our chaperone, I feel like we should have a huge Woodstock-esque joint weeding, excuse me, wedding somewhere cool like berkley. I bet Erick has myspace. All the cool kids do. It's way more obscure and less trendy. Something a stoner would be less likely to pick up. Especially since initially you had to go to college to have Facebook, back in the day. Which is school unless you get kicked out for selling to pot to people like Marcus Trufant. (hint: i went on a date with him.)

I will be next date girl when Eric asks K for my number. However the fact that it's almost noon on monday and Kerry has not sent me an overly excited email exclaiming Erics interest in my digits leaves my dreams of dating a non-using drug slinger shattered.
That is, unless K forgot because she is lost in her own narcissistic undertow fantasizing about her new boyfriend plus one (read: his daughter) then it's ok.

K: You’re pretty big time if you went out with a guy that sold pot to Marcus Trufant. Life doesn’t get much better than that. I haven’t yet chatted with eric so I don’t know what his status is… but my coworkers did say you were way out of his league.

It’s true all I’m thinking about is my hippie wedding dress and my dreams of running away with Erick in a Volkswagen bus or RV. We need the larger car of course for my new daughter.

Me: What can I say -- I thought I would integrate the Seahawks into my social life. You know how much I love tailgating. I figure, why not add some weed for FREE! See, that's the beauty of not smoking pot but dating a pot-smoking low time seller...you get that ish fo free bitches. I am thinking of getting his name tattooed on my neck in an illegible scroll font. I plan on spending the majority of my day trolling photoshop and freefont.com for the just the right one. Additionally, I think it's appropriate to switch to all Baby Phat clothing and gold jewerly ONLY. This means my closet is open for scrounging and my clothing is all for sale.

On the note of me being way out of eric's league, is it because I have an actual tan? I know that sometimes its confusing for the MALE Microsofties to grasp the idea of sunlight and exposure to it -- and as a result they are often vitamin D difficient. I am intrigued by your comment however and would like you to elaborate please. Just because I have boobs (real, btw) and good fashion (did you see my shoes? they were super cute until 930am when people on the street are like why is that over-dressed fashionista wannabe walking down the street with that scrawny sun-lacking guy? oh it's a walk of shame? shoulda thought ahead and packed flip-flops.) In all fairness to Eric, he seems like a really nice guy that has the following going for him:

1) a full time job.

2) social skills (even if multiple vodka-redbulls were required)

3) a college degree.

4) a sense of humor.

he does not have:

1) a drug habit.

2) a tarantula (wtf?)

Remind your co-workers that sometimes out-of-league girls need a reality check from dating idiotic, pot addicts that work less that you do in even given day, have no ambition and cannot even be described as college drop-outs because they didn't drop out -- they got KICKED out and then put in jail. Theoretically, Eric is out of MY league because unless he has dated a crack-addicted whore, he might be winning as far as choices go. But I'd prefer if that one was kept between us girls. :)

On the note of our joint wedding, I am thinking of using my mom's wedding dress from her first wedding in the 70's. White flower eyelets? Yes please. And obviously we need to get a VW bus that runs solely on recycled vegetable oil. Also -- your new kid is half asian...so people are totally going to know that you stole her.

L: Lara, I literally can't stop laughing. Please share this with the world. I almost want to start a blog just to put this up. Especially the tarantula (wtf?) part :) I can't wait to see you in all Baby Phat...

Me: Why thank you. You shall be the first allowed to pick over my closet for your nice words of encouragement. I only hope that some day your new boy will evolve to become a dealer. You will someday be just as lucky as I. Because seriously WHO THE EFF OWNS A TARANTULA and encourages a girl that openly has a nordstrom visa to LOOK AT IT! I shall blog this but it might take me a few days. I even had to edit this story from my mother, who i am sure would have all sorts of opinions about me 1) being around pot for more than a short period of time and 2) actually witnessing someone buying weed. In my defense, i didn't smoke any of it.

Eff.

And for the record, Eric never got my number, called, texted or Facebook friended me. I also forgot to mention I made out with him. Whoops.

He's just not that into me, so clearly something is wrong with him.

Sometimes it's as easy as saying it, "he's just not that into me" - eh, nexxt. But why is it that other times, it seems like there is no letting go.

I'm your classic single girl. Some might call me a serial dater, I would say that I am just picky. I refuse to compromise what I want for having a boyfriend just to have one. You wouldn't keep mediocre friends around, so why keep mediocre men? Clearly, it's illogical.

That being said, it's easy to decide when you don't want to date someone -- but when they decide not to date you? Much more difficult to accept. I find myself caught in an ebb of confusion. This may seem vague to some of you, and repetitive to others. Regardless, pity party? No, thank you. I would hate to waste such a nice pair of ta-ta's on a girl that throws herself pity parties.

It just BUGS me though. Seriously, it bugs the living day lights out of me. Some of my closest guys friends are people that I have dated, and realized it wouldn't work -- not always on my own terms, I might add. So excuse me if someone disappearing for no apparent reason irritates me. And don't even get me started on the social stipulations of being dropped on Facebook and MySpace. Talk about a slap in the face.

This brings me to my next point, I am amazing.

Yea, I said it. I friggin' rock. When was the last time you met someone as fun as me? Yup -- haven't. So there it is folks, my awesomeness is far to intimidating for these boys to manage.

Since I have solved THAT equation: Lara + boys her age = booooo ... let's cover the men within my maturity level.

Recently I was set up on a blind date with one of my hairdresser's clients sons who was supposedly "30." Let me start right of by saying he was to be 35 this month. Been there, done that. And he did not have the "at least he's a firefighter" excuse I've tried using previously.

To start off this early afternoon date, we met at Sbucks for some coffee. He had been studying some law-related material which I immediately spilled my coffee on before even sitting down. Now not only am I obligated to stay and converse, I have spilled coffee all over this poor man's literature. My cheeks started to heat up, and all I could think was that he probably thought I was so nervous I spilled -- rather than the truth, which is I am just a natural clutz.

Two hours later and I had no excuse to leave. No fake phone call. No family emergency. And even if someone offered the opportunity up, I doubt I would have taken it. I'm too nice. (Seriously! I am.) I awkwardly left with a hand shake, and immediately began to check my various missed texts and calls. Another miss. Another next.

The good news is, I totally pre-dated him for Teresa...the pass off is the only tricky part...any ideas?

Oh, and did I mention he drove down from Bellingham?

To Starbucks or Not to Starbucks...that isn't even a question.

Starbucks. Period, the end.

I personally don't believe there should be any doubt when a coffee craving tickles at your throat; however there is good news for you Starbucks skeptics out there. If the desire for a Starbucks kick arises, there will be a minimum of two Starbucks between your current location and final destination. Now, if you are within a block of a Sbucks, the likelihood that a second Starbucks is closer is lessened. But the Science of Seattle tells us, "have no fear, another Starbucks is near!"

Anyway, while on my way back from West Seattle, which I have decided is an entirely different city btw, I finished my pre-work cup of joe. This began my see-saw with the time clock. Is there time for a quick stop at Starbucks? How could I not have time? It's the first day of a new job, can I risk it?

Yes. Yes. Y-E-S.

Some of you might be thinking, this girl is crazy. Who risks tardiness on her first day? I do. Maybe you haven't been unemployed for a period of time long enough to allow you to forget what morning dew is. Or, possibly you are a "morning person." ::shudder:: And maybe, just maybe, you would rather show up 20-minutes early instead of ensuring your alertness for the rest of the day.

Half a grande drip and a reduced-fat turkey bacon breakfast sandwich later, I was all sorts of ready for my first day.

Though, I must admit, the venti water really hit the spot. It's something about those clear cups.....hmmm Sbucks. Always a good idea.

I have time for a blog...yah, sure..

Are you KIDDING me? I started a blog in February..it's the end of APRIL and I have one flippin' entry? 

Come Monday my official stint of unemployment is over. O-VER. Meaning that I was unemployed for approximately 9 weeks. Not bad, considering our economy is complete crap right now. A big shout out to Jenn, who once again has come through on the job front. *snaps for Jenn* 

I spent my "time off," if you will, going to San Diego, Vegas and trying to keep myself as occupied as possible. I have admit that by the end of March (approx. length of unemployment 3 weeks) lacking any sort of employment related motivation. The only true reason to wake up was because Will & Grace is on at 11. Otherwise, I'd probably sleep right on past noon. Which is unfortunate when this happens, as there is no good TV on past noon. Thank you Debra Messing for getting my bootay out of bed. 

Where I lacked employment motivation, I made up for it three-fold where my social calendar was concerned. I am pretty sure I had some on the calendar for almost every day in April. Which is good since April is my birthday. You will note I did not say April [insert date here] -- because the date is truly irrelevant to the fact that I celebrate my birthday all month. Literally. My mother is the definite enabler to this act of narcissistic behavior...as she is the one who explained that there is simply not enough time in ONE day to fit all of my amazing, delightful friends. Yes, sometimes the "but it's MY birthday!" becomes irritating, more specifically toward the end of April as my birthday is near the beginning of the month. BUT just know, if you want to celebrate your birthday for a full 28-,30-, or 31-days I will be more than supportive of said decisions. Unless you're born in April, in which case, kiss off. I will acknowledge your birth, however I refuse to even consider the possibility that Britney Spears came to the Tacoma Dome to celebrate you (she came for me!), that people gathered to celebrate your birthday (you might have been there but they were really there for me), and that vacay we took? Yup, it was for my birthday. 

To recap, things that I currently support: 

1. Myself. 

2. Barack Obama ("we have a black President now, shit has changed!") 

3. Me. 

4. My birthday. 

5. Employment. 

Word. 

It's Saturday night...and I am starting a blog?

Yes, it's Saturday night. Approximately 8:57 pm. This is the time that I have chosen to start a blog.

Recently deemed jobless, I think I will have more than enough time to keep a blog update -- but give it a week and we'll see how committed I really am. I am finding this whole "recession" thing to be extremely obnoxious, yet I am not going to let it get me down. Every time I feel a little blue, I YouTube "I'm On a Boat" featuring T-Pain. I strongly recommend you watch it regardless of your job status.

I have to say, I made a bad decision today.

I walked into Mercer. If you've never been there, go. Unless you're jobless, then stay away. They're having a sale. A big sale. A "blowout prices" sale. Who says no to a sale? Logical, practical people. People that don't have jobs.

People that aren't me. But logical, practical people also don't have a ridiculously almost always cute wardrobe. So, I am going to say that jeans marked down more than 50% were an investment. And buying them was not a mistake.

Going into the store might have been. Oops?

I have started my "To Do List 2009." Promotion is number 4. Wednesday night I was getting an office, which I had already redecorated in my head (green wall, black framed mirror)...I was also getting a theoretical promotion. Thursday right before I left the office I was called into a meeting with the majority of my company and told we couldn't make payroll.

Silence.

And I could file for unemployment Friday.

Wow. Eff you economy.

There is opportunity in everything, and I know something good will come of this. I can't help but think that karma is currently kicking my ass. Between my purse getting stolen (with iphone and camera) in January and my company closing it's doors in February, 2009 does not seem to be off to the best start. I think only good can come of March.

While I am babbling about not have a full time job, because I still serve at the Stanz one night a week so I have a little something to fall back on, I have to say that in the past year I have seen amazing things of people I know. I credit my sanity to my mom, Nicole and Sabrina - who have seen me through some rough times.

Nicole still writes on my Facebook wall when I am sitting next to her. It still makes me laugh. I think I am developing a fear of pregnant women. Again, thank you Nikki.