Don't Fuck with a Muthafucka's Mango Chutney

Soooo. Yesterday was my first day at the new job, which is freakin' spectacular, let me just say that. It is sooo beyond exciting to be able to work with people who are under the age of 40, and who laugh and smile a lot, and who know how to spell the word "vertical." I am training for the rest of the week, and then after that, I'm on my own, which rocks. I finally feel like this whole go-to-college/go-to-work thing has worked for me. I'm in a position that I like, that I can grow with, and that is everything that it said it would be. By the way, if anyone ever wants to know what NOT to do when they get out of college and are offered a position, give me a call or an email. I'll be glad to tell you.

That said, let me move on to the exciting thing--my mama surprised me and she's coming out this weekend. She is on Spring Break, so she is coming to take me shopping in SF, and we're going to cook a lot and stay up late and watch horrible Lifetime movies and true-crime dramas. I am thrilled! Matt is even looking forward to it, because Mom is bringing him a Southern ham hock to make a pot of beans out of (you can't get ham hocks out here), and then, well, Mom will distract me and he will be able to get a lot of work done. The sucky thing, however, is that we need to clean the house, which is not in the worst condition, but not in the greatest either. So I have to go home tonight, and clean bathrooms. Hmmph. Matt is home all day today, and could be cleaning, but when I just asked him what he was doing he said "Ummmm....reading and watching Molto Mario" which is really not two things which one should combine. When I pressed him about his cleaning habits, he said that he had "created ant armageddon" as with the rainy season, we have inherited a bunch of six-legged friends. That is all. So I am going to go home to a dirty hourse littered with the bodies of deceased insects. Lord.

Well, I should go. I need to run to Trader Joe's on my lunch break and buy something quick to fix for dinner. I also need to run to the dry cleaners and pick up my skirts and three cashmere sweaters, and if there is one little thing wrong with those sweaters, so help me God, I will....words cannot even express what I will do.

Have a good un!

Mo' Money, Mo'...Red Lobster

I got a new job today! It is actually very exciting...I am going to be the assistant to the president at a university out here. It sounds prestigious, I guess, but it's not...except that it pays over twice what I currently make. Which is nice. Reaallll niiiiiiiiiiice.

So it now just comes down to me giving a notice at my current job, and moving on, which is something that I have been looking forward to for a while, but also something that I just realized totally blows. I don't want to hurt the feelings of those there who like me, and believe in my abilities. I'm sure they will understand, given the problems that I have had, but it still seems like a pretty smarmy move on my part. But anyway...whatever. My mom keeps saying that I should be mindful of my own needs, and that if people are upset about it, I should just let it roll down my back. I don't know. I mean, I'm selling out I guess--I just don't want to sell out that much.

But anyway...onto happy things. So tonight Matt wanted to take me out to eat, but I couldn't think of anything that I explicitly wanted (which is odd, because we live in a restaurant hotbed, but I just, well, I don't know, I just didn't feel incredibly enlightened). So, we ended up having this strange conversation that was mostly just a lot of laughing and Project Runway references, and somehow decided to drive twenty miles and go to Red Lobster. I don't know why. We had the best time. We laughed all the way up there (we had to cross a bridge and leave the flipping Bay Area for Christ's sakes), and then when we got there, we couldn't stop laughing even then and the staff gave us some strange looks. I ended up getting something with some sort of butter sauce, even though the menu didn't say that it had a butter sauce, and Matt ended up getting something with many varieties of fried shrimp (who knew there was more than one kind?). We had a grand time.

But then, I broke my glasses. Which sucks. They totally fell apart on the Red Lobster floor. So now I am wearing a pair of Matt's old ones (which I can't totally see out of), and mine are taped to within an inch of their lives, but are still so fragile that I can only use them to drive. And now I have the conundrum. Do I go and buy new glasses tomorrow, or tough it out and wait on my vision plan to go into effect? It's something that I'm mulling around. I probably won't mull long--I look pretty hideous in these glasses.

So well, that's it. Have a good un, my little popcorn shrimps!

Of Valentine's Day and Job Interviews

I have been reading a lot of really anti-Valentine's things on the internet, and have wanted to post something regarding that for a few days now, but I haven't had the chance. So here's the thing...yeah, it's a commercial holiday. They all are. Yeah, it's made up. They all are. Get over it, and share some red and pink lovin'! (It's a late sentiment, but, well, you know...)

So, as you can tell, I heart Valentine's mucho. I always have, always will. I always wear some sort of pink garment and curl my hair and I always decorate the house and pump out all manner of chocolate goodies for everyone I know. No exception this year. And my hubby came through, not in the manner of last year (when he proposed) but in a cool manner none the less. He fixed me dinner and bought me this great vintage 50's night gown. Where he found it, I have no idea, but it is perfect. Then we giggled our way through two bottles of wine and a few crazily concocted cocktails. It was low-key and wonderful.

Which brings me to the post Valentine's day hangover. This is the part I could do without. Both Matt and I woke up sick yesterday, and of course, blamed it not on our overindulgence the night before, but instead, the stomach flu. We totally knew we were hungover, but whatever. But anyway, I had to go to a Board meeting, so I get up and go, all the time feeling like I had been hit by a truck. It totally sucked. So I came home last night, and proceeded to lay in bed without moving. Now that, kind of rocked. Especially since it was Project Runway night (except that last night's episode was kind of boring, and I totally missed Nick...tear). Today I feel fine. I'm just amazed at myself for being so stupid three years in a row, and drinking massive quantities, and then waking up feeling like rubbish the next day. Oh well.

But onto more interesting, intospective things. As you probably know, I am looking for a new job, and so far have had four pretty dynamite interviews with another one today(fellow William and Mary people please note that yeah, that degree actually comes in handy). On Valentine's Day, I had an interview in a town about 20 miles away, but it was sooo worth it because the job is a very good one. Anywho, I drive to the interview, and I'm wearing my too-expensive suit, and my really ugly "professional" heels, and I'm listening to the radio, and just generally feeling good about myself. The temp is about 70, there's not a cloud in the sky, it's just your typical CA day. And then, I go across this little incline in the freeway, and I come down, and I can see all around--the area just opens up, and all of a sudden I can see the city and the bay and the bridges and all of that. And I don't know. All of a sudden I just felt so grown up. I just felt totally like, "I have arrived." Now, I know that sounds conceited or something, but I just felt so cool right at that moment. For the first time ever, I felt like somebody pretty damn special. It seems weird all written out like this, but it was just the coolest feeling.

So now, wierd feelings aside, I leave you with this:
Morgan's Top Ten Reasons the Olympics Suck Monkey Balls
1. I don't get to watch The Office tonight.
2. Half of the stupid winter olympics are not even sports. Curling, anyone? And all of those luge events? That's bullshit. Now I know someone's going to call me out on this and tell me all the practice it takes to be one of these people, but seriously, you're basically getting a gold medal to go for a sleigh ride. Perhaps I could go to Six Flags and ride a roller coaster and they'll give me a medal too.
3. The United States pretty much sucks at all this stuff, don't we? I mean, it just makes sense that some place like Russia where it's actually COLD might kick our ass or something.
4. I don't get to watch My Name Is Earl tonight.
5. All of that "personal triumph" stuff is so incredibly hokey. And you can't hide from it. I was trying to drive to work this morning, hoping to hear some Strokes before I have to hit the icy cold confines of the office, and instead I hear about this Russian ice skater who left home at 11 to devote his life to ice skatery. For fuck's sake--it's Russia. That dude had it good. Talk to me about the girl who left home at 11 to become a prostitute in the Ukraine. Now, that's shitty. Hell, if he had stayed home in his shitty Russian house eating month old sour cream and black bread, he would have had it worse. AND THAT'S WHAT EVERYONE ELSE DOES. So don't talk to me about sacrifice, radio bitch.
6. All of that international stuff. We're America. Since when do we give a flying fuck about the rest of the world? Oh yeah, since we decided to beat up on it both militarily and athletically.
7. I don't get to watch The Office next week either.
8. It makes me feel all guilty for not caring about my country when I hear the 6 people who actually watch this stuff talk about it. But yeah, not guilty enough to care.
9. Ice skaters piss me off. C'mon folks. America's Sweetheart? They're not even cute, with those big ol' tree trunk thighs and that short strange hair. Now, Lindsay Lohan. That's America's Sweetheart. She has everything we value in a woman--photogenicness, ability to be recognized for doing nothing very well at all, and fuckability. Don't try to cover your real desires by showing me some over-muscled pixie who probably can't spell the words "figure eight" because she's been slaving to her jerk-ass parents and douchebag coach for her entire life and calling her "America's Sweetheart." If that's America's Sweetheart, fuck it, I'm moving to France. Or at least Canada.
10. No Law and Order either, bitches.

The Negative Effects of Project Runway

Ok, here I sit, tears welling in my eyes, clutching a roll of toilet paper. What am I so upset about, you ask? Love? Death? Taxes? No, folks, it's the only thing that truly matters...Project Runway. It's 11:27, I have a job interview in the city in the morning, and I'm not about to go to sleep because my favorite person was just aufed and it was all a big conspiracy and it sucks and... Oh shit, I need a g & t.

That's right. Nick got sent home. Uncle Nick. My favorite runway person got sent back to Cali, which is not overall a horrible place to be, but still. Oh for fucks sake. Stop sniffling!!!!

And Santino is just a big jerk and I take back all positive things I said about him and his Red Lobster comments. Fuck Santino. Fuck Red Lobster. Fuck their blue drinks and their red red lobster.

Soo yeah. I have this interview in the morning, in SAN FRANCISCO, that I am not ready for in the least, except for the fact that I bought a new jacket that was way above my budget, but the way I figure it, sometimes you have to spend money to make money. And if I get this job, it will be sooo worth it, because I'll be making about 4 times what I make right now. Which is sweeeeeeeeet.

But not that sweet because Nick is gone. Oh, Sweet Nick. If pigs fly tomorrow and you read this, just know that this Bay Area Southern Girl loves your stuff, and honey, you look delicious in pink. Call me, babe. I'll make the tea, you make the dress.

Off to take a bath and replenish some of the brain cells I lost whilst crying over a reality show...

I'm looking, I'm looking...

Your Job Dissatisfaction Level is 73%

Your job is a total bummer, and probably the worst job you've ever had.Your co-workers stink. Your boss is a jerk. And your company is probably in trouble.Think about finding a new job quickly, even if it's just a not-so-great transition job.You've got to get out of there as quickly as you can!

Should You Quit Your Job?

Of Near Death Experiences and Red Lobster

Ok. So you're probably thinking that the title means something metaphorical and that my near-death experience is all something of my own making, but it's not. I think that I was nearly murdered this morning. Allow me to explain.

So yeah, my job sucks, and we all know that. It's been established. What I haven't put on here is just how bad things have gotten. There's this dude who is old, and used to have my job, who is a total bastard, and has lately done all these things that have been, well, screwy. For instance, the other day I came in and worked, and found things on my desk had been shuffled around (including my resume and cover letter, which I am sending to anyone who listen asfastasIcan). Plus all the phone messages had been deleted. It was no big deal--I knew that he had done it, but I just kind of laughed and forgot about it. Then, the phone didn't ring all day, so I chalked it up to a rainy day, and fucked around all day and didn't do a damn thing. So the next day, I come in, and everything looks normal and all, and the phone doesn't ring all day, but I test it and realize that I can call out, so everything must be kosher, and just nobody wants to talk to me. I go home. So the next day, I come in, and at about 10:00 no one has called, which I am starting to think is incredibly odd, so I get Matt to call me (I have a cell phone that I've been talking to him on). Sure enough, the phone doesn't ring. So I start checking the wiring. Someone had messed up all the cords, so the internet was plugged into the phone, and the fax was plugged into the internet, so nothing was going to its correct line. After a lot of pushing and cursing and stomping, I got it figured out, but it took a while, and I got dust on my favorite black jacket. I was pissed. There is no way this could be done accidentally--you have to go behind my desk and really fuck around to do any of this. So I know he's done it, and I don't know what to do. So I send out a mass email and tell everyone what has happened and that they can reach me now that the problem has been solved. Trouble is, our Board President is out of town, so the person who could do something about it, can't.

Then this morning, I came in and opened up, and my hands were freaking freezing because I was carrying a cold bottle of water, plus it is cold outside. I walk straight to the back and turn on the heater, which is a really, really shitty heater. And I come back up to my desk and start turning everything on. I have just started checking the email when I start to get really light headed, and feel really, really sleepy. I chalk it up to watching a bunch of Tivoed Iron Chef's last night, and try to ignore it. Then, my cell phone rings, so I answer it, even though the ring tone sounds far, far away. It's Matt, he hears that I'm obviously not well, and tells me to go outside. I'm not sure how he knows that I should do this, but he does, and I do. It takes me literally forever to get across the front of the office and to the door. Once I get outside, I feel like laying down, but I don't because, well, even when I'm loopy off gas fumes, I know not to lay on a California sidewalk. I just stand there and breathe, and sooner or later, I'm fine again.

Now isn't that suspicious? I came in and turned the heat off, and looked at the heater, but I can't tell anything about it. So I called the Board Pres again, but he is still out of town. I mean, this could be a natural occurence that has something to do with it being a really, really old heating system. But it could also be deliberate. Not that I think that I've done anything that warrants my murder. But this guy is a FREAK. I shit you not. He is a lunatic. Nothing would surprise me at this point.

I have sat here all day with no heat, so my hands are freezing, even though I've drank about 3 cups of coffee. I really don't know what I should do. I mean, I can't really call the cops and say, "Well, I think this old dude is trying to kill me because I took his job. And I think he's doing it with the heater." They would laugh my ass all the way back to VA. I don't even know if this is legitimate, you know? But it's still weird, and I'm still freaked.

Oh, and the reason I brought up Red Lobster is because my husband was trying to get me to laugh and started talking about Project Runway and Santino doing his Tim impression, and it turns out Matt can do a Santino-doing-Tim impression that is pretty good and he said that if I got un-loopy that he would take me to Red Lobster and that we would get the biggest, reddest lobster on the menu, and then he would tell them that it was my birthday and order me a drink that is simultaneously blue and on fire. We both pretty much hate Red Lobster (except for those cheese biscuits, which are so easy to make at home), so it made me laugh and thus breathe in more untainted air. So that's where the "Red Lobster" in the title comes from. Also, since this morning, I have developed an incredible need to go to Red Lobster and laugh and drink blue drinks. To the point that I looked up on the internet where we could go to one. Too bad it's about 20 miles away.

So the moral of this story is that I may be overreacting, but whatever, I still contend that someone is out to get me and I need a new job. Need it in the worst way. So just in case you are a prospective employer, here's why you should hire me.

Ten Reasons to Hire Me
1. I always take the buggy back to the holder at Target, so I have a lot of good karma.
2. I have good typing skills. I typed this whole entry in less than 17 seconds. Well, close.
3. I am educated, but I'm not pretentious. At least not most of the time.
4. I can cook, and am handy to have around at Christmas time. Or Valentines. Or, really, any holiday.
5. I smile a lot.
6. I don't dress all hoochie, and if you paid me a lot, I'd dress even better. I have damn good taste.
7. I like to be challenged.
8. I always pet dogs when they are left outside grocery stores, and sometimes I feed meters for people who are about to be ticketed.
9. I know a lot of pop culture references, but no Star Trek. I am not a geek. Seriously. I am really really really cool.
10. I have pretty skin, and it will just get prettier if I get more money.

Have a good un, ya'll. Try not to die!