Post-Election / Midterm Restart

I've been not writing because a) I was watching election coverage all last night, and b) I had a midterm in Macroeconomics last night before I got to watch any election coverage. Who cares about the duties of the FOMC if you've got Obamarama going on?! I finished my exam way first. This either means that a) I am WAY more brilliant than any of my whiskey tango fellow students, or b) I totally blew it but am too pompous to realize that I was wrong on any of the questions. I lean toward the former.

The most inspiring thing about the election last night (out of many inspiring things, including tears on Jesse Jackson's face, who I didn't know was a GIANT and Oprah is a MIDGET), was when Margaret and I went out walking at 9:15 to get her free Starbucks dammit, we stopped on the sidewalk in front of the local sports bar with the million TVs, and so did everyone else. The restaurant was at capacity - no one else was allowed in or else they would all die if the restaurant caught on fire from all the love and unity. But really, it was like the whole nation - no, probably the whole WORLD had stopped, and was watching CNN live and not giving a damn about petty things like going through the green light at the intersection. It was an awe-ful experience, full of awe, and MAN, THAT GUY IS A GOOD SPEAKER. His speech writer should be paid a million dollars.

I was disappointed in the Republican celebration/defeat whatever party in Arizona. I mean, the guy is trying to GRACIOUSLY congratulate his new president, his opponent nonetheless, and the 'tards in the crowd totally disrespected their own man while trying to disrespect the other. I thought it was a show of tacky.

I also haven't been writing because whenever I get upset, I get WAY less clever and funny, and I didn't want to burden anyone reading with the boring shlog I come up with when I'm angry or frustrated or . I'm still that, but bouyed by the 'Bama, so you get a short blurb of w00t, but only for a moment.

P.S. The time stamp on this post is correct...

I REALLY Have Got to be More Creative

We went to Lindygroove last night, and there was a costume contest for work today, and my Marilyn Monroe outfit just did not cut it. Though, a couple people did not realize it was me because lipstick is a good disguise. Sure, she's hott, and wears a cool dress, but is it creative to be Marilyn Monroe? Shnopes. Not when compared with the likes of:

• Rainbow Brite
• WWII Hobos (camped around a fire for three hours)
• Bender
• A Mercedes Benz (he had a grill!)
• Jack (from the box)
• A jellyfish
• The ghost from The Grudge
• Audrey Hepburn

There was a costume contest at my work, and aside from being highly embarrassing as we each had to strut our stuff in front of the ENTIRE COMPANY, it was the best day ever. Everyone was happy and cheery, they catered Carl's Jr. for lunch, they hired a DJ, and my boss who is awesome was pulled up by one of the little Mexican guys and danced to Thriller in front of everyone without being embarrassed at all. She is the definition of AWESOME. Especially because she dances like a white girl. The winners of the costume contest were: Rock Band (who break-danced in the middle of the floor with his little guitar), Art (someone dressed up as a very highly accurate version of our graphic designer), and Frieda Kahlo. I twirled my skirt for nothing.

I guess not absolutely nothing. After all was announced and done (like letting us off work early), I did get a line of 6 or 7 short Hispanic men who asked if they could please have their picture taken with me. Flattering? I'm not really sure. I'm definitely not wearing cleavage to work again, though.

The Ramifications of Being Nasty

About 2 months after I started recepting at the company, we added a column to our list of extensions that indicated to future receptionists the relative goodness of each person. Most people are blank, because you don't need to call them. The rest is a system of "*" for helpful if need be, "**" for downright friendly and/or excessively helpful, and "-" for DO NOT CALL THIS PERSON FOR ANY REASON IF YOU VALUE YOUR SELF-ESTEEM. I am not joking on the caps, either.

When we started the list, there were 7 such "-" people, all of whom, now that I think about it, were women. It has GREATLY restored my faith in large corporations, though mostly mine, to find that in the span of just 4 months, that list has been reduced to just 2. 3, if you count the one returning from maternity leave eventually, but her underlings are just praying she'll love her new baby too much and never come back. Fat chance, because what type of personality earns a "-" in the first place? Not the kind that loves babies.

I just thought it was interesting how whatever powers that be have reduced specifically the bitch population of a company IN THE FASHION INDUSTRY. I had always thought that was kind of a prerequisite for getting a good job there. Thankfully, I have been proved wrong. There are only two meanies left, though they are of the meaniest sort that take joy in putting other people down while subsequently trying to make themselves look more powerful, but only succeed in making people a) cower, and b) talk crap about them behind their backs and spread vicious rumors, which I hear every now and again wafting through the workplace.

Win for the nice people!!!

It Wasn't Stolen / Halloween Picture (already? Yes.)

It had fallen down the side of one of my many jewelry parts containers boxes of crap. But! This is it.

Also, because I loved Jesse's costume SO MUCH, I had to post a picture of him wearing it even though it's not halloween yet - we went to Do Something Blue on Friday, and he was the best costume there. Though - there were a LOT of good ones. Not this good:

P.S. His costume would only make sense if you were a dancer and had witnessed the original fake tattoo sleeve in person.

Yar be no More Complaining about Government Class

Because I finished, and I won.

I have a 78% percent, without having the points added yet for my mostly excellent paper that reduced me to tears because of the DAMNED BIBLIOGRAPHY, nor the points for my fair rate of class participation, each of which is 10% of my grade. 78% + 8% + 9% = 95%. There is no way I do not win at this class.

This leaves only Macroeconomics, which is wholly unremarkable except for the trashy girl in the back who is finally getting TOLD by the teacher, and there is a guy named Fazika.

Leaving me to be jewel-queen:

I was going to post a picture right here of this fabulous bracelet that took me hours and hours to weave, but I went and first couldn't find the camera (it was under the couch cushion Jesse sits on all evenings), and then, and still, tragically... I can't find the bracelet. I was doubly upset, which is to say, twice as upset as I usually become when I can't find something I JUST HAD TWO DAYS AGO. I'm convinced it has been stolen.

Sexy Doodle-Heck

You know our little old lady? The one that says "what the doodle-heck" all the time? She is a secretly dirty-minded little old lady that is in love with my husband. The entirety of the previous sentence is perfectly acceptable to me. I mean, if I love him so much, it would make sense that other people would as well, and especially the lonely-like old soltera who he whisks away like a knight in shining Dodge Magnum to Trader Joe's or Michael's to get sequins for the Christmas balls she makes all day every day. Guess what we're getting for Christmas? Balls.

I know she's a little dirty, but she's so sneaky and she knows she can get away with it because she's 83. For instance, she constantly CONSTANTLY is telling Jesse just how sexy he is. LOL!!!! Literally. She clings to his arm (she has a cane, but why use a cane when you can drape yourself on a handsome 24 year old chiropractor?!) and looks wistfully up into his eyes and tells him how much she appreciates his helping her. The wistfulness is so batty-eyed as to be funny. He'll start walking into the store and she'll say "after you, sexy," which is to say, "walk in front of me so I can stare at your ass." Then she'll lean over to me and whisper "now isn't he sexy?" I'm thinking "I guess I've got competition now."

Also that when she checks out of the grocery store and the young checker asks if he can help her out, she'll calmly state "not unless you want to go home with me" and he chuckles like she means she needs help getting the groceries out of the car. If she weren't 83 and 200 pounds, he might think past that, but as aforementioned... she knows she can get away with anything, and she's so right. I can't wait until I'm 83.