The Saying was Wrong...Cheaters do Win

I'm so frustrated that I actually shed some tears at work that were actually related to work. I'd been working really hard on a project with a team for a while now. I put in more hours and coordinated efforst in more cities than my counterparts. However, with a little fancy massaging of the numbers, one of my counterparts made it look like he did a much better job. Sometimes it sucks to be honest.

Speaking of sucking and being honest, Lance Bass came out of the closet. Is anyone shocked? Didn't think so. Even if in the population as a whole does not have quite that large a percentage of homosexuals, boy bands bring the average up. At least one in every boyband group of five members is probably gay, so that's 20 percent. That's a pretty safe bet. Then add in the fact that he was crazy enough to want to go to space, and that he was seen on more than one occasion with Kathy Griffin. It all makes sense.

However, I do feel a little bit bad. Lance has been reportedly seeing Reichen from the Amazing Race. This begs the question...what happened to Chip? Chip and Reichen won the race a few years back as a committed couple. I guess a taste of fame begets more licks, so to speak. I just hope Chip was smart enough to get his half of the Amazing Race money.

Me + Wine+ Wedding Show = Bad News and Crying

Why did I ever think that drinking a bottle of wine (some nice Cabernet) and watching a wedding show would be a good idea? It just brought out a bunch of ideas that I don't think I've truly conciously thought. Of course, I had to share these ideas while crying with Chef. He was a good sport at first. Then as I kept poking and beating the dead horse, Chef got a little tired of hearing about it.

I've never been a great drunk. I've always been a little more flirtacious or stupid, but I cannot recall ever having been a crying drunk. A few tears maybe, but never the full out bawling-so-hard-I'm-almost-hyperventillating kind of cry. And I really don't know what started it or why I kept crying. Damn you, red wine. You're so delicious and yet so bad to me.

Despite all that, I have to say that Chef was a trooper. He held my hair back as I said hello a second time to the wine. He tucked me into bed and then he appropriately made fun of me this morning.

I don't drink a lot in the first place, but I'm beginning to think that I'm beginning to reach the age where drinking heavily has consequences in the morning. And so, I'm beginning to reach the age where I will not be drinking heavily.

On another note, today at lunch my friend Julie went to a huge park here in town and walked two miles so that our make-up would melt off. More amazing than that is the fact that on our way there, I almost ran over a pedestrian. Honestly, it was his fault for stepping out in front of me in traffic, but I digress. While giving the pedestrian the once over, Julie and I both happened to notice how incredibly hot he was...then it hit us. I had almost run over a professional football player. He's much cuter with his helmet off.

Worse than the First

This morning I rolled into work (late as usual) to be greeted at the front door by that day's receptionist (they take turns because our permanent receptionist was let go four years ago). She smiled and said "Do you know Tammy Thompson (names have been changed)?"

"Yes," I said. "She was last year's spokesperson for one of our events. She's great. A wonderful surivor."

"Well," said the receptionist. "She died yesterday at her office. Call this person to find out more."

It wasn't exactly the best way to get the news. I hadn't talked to Tammy in about 2 months and I can't say that we were exceptionally close, but I did know her. I knew she was WAY too young to die and to do so suddenly. I knew she'd just finished her earning her college degree after going back later in life. I knew she loved football. And that was enough for me.

The sad and weird thing was that this wasn't the first time this had happened. When you're working with people who are survivors, that indicates that they've had something to survive from. Chances are good that unless you've been hit by lightning, what affects you once will come back again.

So, I pick people to speak out about their experience and inspire others. I also pick children whose parents want desperately to help other parents who are going through the same thing. And with this comes risk.

The first surivor that I lost was a one year-old baby. He was precious and strong and had a freak reaction during a surgert. I was beside myself when he passed away. Seeing his father with one of his son's toys hanging out of his suit pocket at the visitation was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Tammy's death is no less sad. I also feel guilty. I told the baby's story yesterday to someone because I was speaking my apprehension about this year's child spokesperson. She's only had surgery two months ago and this worried me. Now I'm beginnig to feel like a jinx.

Maybe I won't use spokespeople for next year's event.

All that and an Emmy nomination too

Go back to whatever planet you came from, make sure your E-Meter is hooked up and ready to go. Scientology has lost the PR battle once again. This religion is taking a bigger beating than Michael Jackson. Okay, maybe not that big, but it's getting bad.

I'm actually happy because the Emmy voters nominated the South Park episode "Trapped in the Closet" for Outstanding Animated Programming (for less than one hour). I'm going to be pulling hard core for this to win. Either way, it's a win for South Park because Comedy Central is putting the episode back on the air. Suck it, Cruise. Suck it, Travolta. Suck it, Hubbard. All your bitching and moaning did little.

On another note, The Colbert Report also got nominated. I'm pulling for big fellow. If you haven't seen any of the 26 episodes of the 4oo-something-part series "Better Know a District," you've been missing out. All I'm saying is "Pacific Rim Jobs."

Other than Emmy stuff, Chef and I went over to meet a friend of his and his wife. It was interesting. I've never been in a couple long enough to have "couple friends." They seem nice enough and I don't see myself feeling like I'm stuck with something. Even though they're only a few years younger than me, I felt really old. I'm not exactly living an "old" lifestyle. I still rent, we aren't married, I accept furniture from relatives. But for some reason, I just felt like I'd been through more. Maybe I'm getting less tolerant as I'm getting older. Or maybe I've always been the youngest one in a group and I'm not used to be the older one. Who knows?

Anyway, tomorrow is the last round in my big competition. Everyone wish me luck. I'll actually reveal what's going on when it's actually not able to be potentially jinxed. Yes, I'm just that superstitious.

An Annoying Day

I've been annoyed all damn day. And once again I'm using the blog to let it out:

• I leave the office for 10 minutes during which time my assistant is looking for me. When I walk through the door, not one but FIVE people tell me "Your assistant was looking for you." I find her and find out she wanted to ask me a question that I could never possibly know nor would I be the correct person to ask. This would only be mildly frustrating except for the fact that this sweet lady has been with the organization 35 years and should know better.
• People keep asking me to do things that have NOTHING to do with my job. I say no and then I get a call from upper management (who told me to start saying no in the first place) as to why I'm not being a "team player."
• I've had to run home twice today. Once I had to be driven because my eye has been acting funky. I was on my way a THIRD time when I was told I wasn't needed...after I had already left.
• My lower back is killing me.
• Star Jones thinks she's a celebrity but I can't figure out why or how she got famous. Or why we should care?
• A former co-worker came in to show me pictures of her new baby...in the arms of her famous sister-in-law. She had oodles of pics with the famous ones kids and the famous chick's slightly less equally famous husband. Yet none of the pictures had her or her husband in them. Hmmm. Then she looked at me expectantly and when I didn't respond, she said "We went out to LA to visit ____'s house. I even got to see her ___."
• Nelly Furado went from being "like a bird" to being a ho. When did that happen?

That's all I have to bitch about for now. Actually, I can bitch more, but it's time to go home.

Keep Your Fingers Crossed

Okay, friends, I've got some things working now and need everyone to keep their fingers crossed for me. I can't really say now, less for the jinxing reason and more for the I need not yet reveal my plans reason.

Other than that, life is pretty boring right now...in a good way. Shera made her way down from Greyskull to visit me over the 4th. She and Chef even bounded over cooking strategies. I was happy they got along. Now if only Swampette and Precious would come down to meet the man in my life. It will be two years in September. I can't believe it.

Speaking of September, only a few more weeks until the big Europe trip. I know I don't need to really care, but it was convenient that we get back the day before the Colts' first regular season game. I wonder if Dad had anything to do with that....hmmmm.

When Wednesday Feels Like Monday

There were several things that made me realize that the shortened work week was going to be a bitch. First off, it was raining pretty hardcore here this morning. My feelings on rain is that it makes me exceptionally tired when I look outside and see it all day.

Secondly, I was in the bathroom at work this morning suffering through someone's remnant poop smell when I reached up to get some TP for my wiping abilities. It must've been an idiot who put the TP on it's spring loaded roller because when I touched it, it jumped off and promptly rolled across the floor out of reach. I had to do the delicate shuffle to get to the roll.

After that, I got a mud smudge on a light jacket. I got called into a shitty meeting tomorrow afternoon. I had a phone interview that went badly. I got told I have to speak to a group of 6 year olds about a topic that 6 year olds are too young to really understand. I'm fighting the urge to punch people in the face.

It might say Wednesday on the calendar, but it's TOTALLY a Monday.