The project that wouldn’t die! Ever had a project…

The project that wouldn’t die!

Ever had a project that wouldn’t die? One of those that you think you can scratch off of your to-do list until the client (boss, co-worker, etc), comes back with MORE questions? And not just EASY questions, mind you. No siree! He wants to know the answers to questions that he’s never posed before. Questions that I actually have to spend time thinking about and compiling the answers to. Do I have time for this, given the OTHER projects that I’m working on? Hell to the NO!

And now a message from our sponsor:

This What-the-Fuck moment was brought to you by Smith and Wesson — the makers of the gun that I’m going to use to blow my head off if I don’t find a way out of this &*!%$& project!

Deliver me!!

That feels better. Thanx for listening.

Traffic Bottom-feeders Periodically, I have to ha…

Traffic Bottom-feeders

Periodically, I have to have a traffic rant. As a skilled driver with horrible road rage, I’ve identified the worst traffic menaces on busy city streets. They piss me off, and I’d like to rent one of those red-neck 4-wheel-drive trucks with the 9 foot tall wheels just so that I can run these people over. And yes, I’m in a GREAT mood today, thank you very much.

1. Cab drivers. They perform incredible traffic feats and will cut you off and cause catastrophic accidents just to pick up a $5 fare. My father always told me that the worst driver is a cab driver without a fare. He really wasn’t kidding. They drive like they’re from 3rd world countries because most of them ARE.

2. Valet parkers. For the record I don’t valet my car. Not because my car is nice — because it actually rather sucks — but because I don’t want to worry about it in the hands of the valet staff. These little guys are barely licensed. They get tickets in your car that they don’t tell you about. They eat in your car. They steal change, or whatever else isn’t nailed down. AND they’re parking space marauders. I like to cut them off and steal parking spaces from them whenever I can. Even when I don’t need to park. It’s become a sport.

3. Confused people. People who don’t know where they’re going can screw up traffic beyond belief. They stop in the middle of streets; they hesitate at intersections; they make sudden (scary) moves. They should pull over and read maps, pay attention to their GPS systems, or perhaps refrain from driving until they know where the hell they’re going.

4. Gender- and ethnicity-linked driving challenges. I won’t go into this one. You know who you are.

5. Pedestrians. Stop jaywalking, dammit! If you think that there will be enough of you left to sue someone after being hit by a 2 ton vehicle, please think again. You have the right-of-away, yes. Just try not to exercise it in inclimate weather, or on major thoroughfares. It’s simply not the smart thing to do.

6. The Overly-Cautious driver. My mother falls into this category, and I hate riding with her. It’s okay to go 5 miles over the speed limit. It’s okay to turn on red. It’s okay to make the occasional quick lane change without a signal light. It’s NOT okay to drive 35 mph on an expressway. It’s NOT okay to stop while merging. Figure it out.

Okay . . . I feel better now. Thanks for reading!

Smooches,
G.

BRIBED to stay in the house?? This is an interest…

BRIBED to stay in the house??

This is an interesting story: Italians ‘bribe’ sons to stay home into their 30s

My parents damn near put a footprint in my ass to get me out at 21! No wonder there are so many mama’s boys around these days.

I hate the postal service The United States Posta…

I hate the postal service

The United States Postal Service totally sucks — particularly my local post office. My mail carrier is the laziest woman alive, and often forgets to ring my doorbell when delivering a package, and definitely fails to put a slip in my mailbox to let me know that I’ve received a package.

My ghetto local post office is the worst. I should know better than to mail anything from there because the outcome is nothing short of disastrous. A few years ago, some of my Christmas cards didn’t get delivered until February. They were probably being used to equalize a rickety table, or stuffed under the seat of the negligent mail carriers they employ.

I sent a birthday present to Lorrie in NY, and I timed it so that it should have arrived the day before her birthday, which was Sunday. Because I didn’t have time to go to the Harrison St. main post office, I thought I’d give the ghetto PO another chance. What a bad idea. FORTUNATELY, I put a tracker on the package.

Lorrie didn’t mention that she’d received anything, so I finally had to ask her (blowing the birthday surprise), and of course she never received the package. I tracked it, and as it turns out, it was stuck in the bowels of Forest Park, IL, according to the USPS website.

I called customer service, convinced that my package was being enjoyed by a Forest Park postal worker, and the woman who answered — who was actually helpful — found that my package had JUST been scanned in Jersey City, NJ. At least we’re getting closer. I asked the point of spending the extra few bucks for Priority mailing when my package actually arrived days later than it would have if sent by regular mail. She didn’t have the answer. Big f*cking surprise!

The only good news is that the package wasn’t lost.

Brrrr Why am I shivering when it’s about 204 degr…

Brrrr

Why am I shivering when it’s about 204 degrees outside? Because I’m in an office that sets the thermostat to “Tundra.” WTF????? It’s so cold in here that I’m shaking beneath my (very cute) red and gray Ralph Lauren sweatshirt that I carry in my trunk for occasions such as this — when I’m working at client sites who think that the overuse of freon is appropriate.

Another problem is that I have what I call “cold room narcolepsy,” which means that I fall asleep quite easily in a cold room. Even easier if my work isn’t engaging. Easier still if I’m in a boring meeting. Well guess what? I’m fighting to keep my forehead from hitting the desk.

Going in and out between the blistering heat and blistering air condition, I’m sure that pneumonia is somewhere in my near future.

A strong gene pool I’m blogging a lot today, but …

A strong gene pool

I’m blogging a lot today, but it’s Monday, and for some reason, all of these irresistable tidbits keep emerging.

This time, I’d like to talk about the new Bravo show that premieres this week — on June 30 — Being Bobby Brown. I’d like for all of you to visit the website of this show, where we are fortunate enough to get a glimpse of the entire Brown family. There are lots of kids. ALL of them look just like Bobby, and only one belongs to Whitney. I keep thinking that a few will crop up that are younger than their little gem — Bobbi Kristina.

I can’t wait to see what treasures we’re in store for. I’m sure we’ll get lessons in family values (“shut up, bitch, or I’ll slap that wig off your head”), talent (“stop singing, bitch! I’m the King of R&B!!”) or perhaps market research (“Whaddya mean ‘what am I doing?’ What does it LOOK like I’m doing? You said ‘crack is wack,’ and I’m making sure it’s true.”)

I’m getting my TiVo ready!

So it IS true! I can’t decide which I hate more -…

So it IS true!

I can’t decide which I hate more — a bad breakup, or being the purveyor of untruths. Regardless, I found out that the story about Terry Mcmillan and the revelation that her younger husband, Jonathan Plummer being gay is actually true. I’ve linked to the article that contains the full details, for those who are interested. Yeesh! Epilogue for Stella Author — A Messy Divorce

Monday! I swear I hate Mondays these days. Not…

Monday!

I swear I hate Mondays these days. Not that Mondays are necessarily to be loved, because who loves the beginning of a work week? Unless you’re fortunate enough to love your job (which I don’t), or have an untraditional job that doesn’t have your typical Monday-Friday schedule (which I don’t — I usually work Monday-Sunday). Is anyone else in a phase where your life isn’t quite where you want it/need it to be? I’m actually tired of feeling this way.

So . . . I found myself slightly down yesterday — having one of those days — and Tracy was kind enough to allow me to derail her plans and have a late lunch/early dinner (what I refer to as a ‘linner’) creative brainstorming session at Fresco, a restaurant near her that has an outdoor patio.

Although I had a tasty plate of grilled calamari and an ancho tuna sandwich to coat my growling stomach, there was something about the wine combined with the outdoor heat and topped off with intense laughter that made us get tipsier much quicker. Tracy stumbled back home, and I actually visited another friend to continue my comiseration — and declined another glass of wine, which I really didn’t need anyway. (FYI — if you’re on Weight Watchers, each glass of wine is about 2 points — depending on the size of the glass. Can’t have too much.)

I got a call from Tracy shortly after I returned home. She wanted to know if I was as drunk as she was. I wasn’t, which was a good thing since I’d just been driving for the last hour. But good for her! I guess if you’re still drunk, hours later, it was a good day.

Milestones I’m fortunate enough to have a lot of …

Milestones

I’m fortunate enough to have a lot of friends, and I truly enjoy celebrating their milestones. I go to a lot of weddings, bridal showers, baby showers, bachelorette parties, bachelor parties (I guess that’s only when I’m the entertainment. hahaha!), children’s birthday parties, Christenings, divorce parties, second weddings, destination weddings, etc., and I have to tell you that, aside from the sheer excitement of attending these events, I’m also going broke.

The worst thing is that my friends have good taste, and their registries contain a wonderful assortment of pricey items. They’re like me, in the sense that I can go into a store and whatever I like will undoubtedly be THE most expensive thing on the rack. It’s as if I have a built in divining rod.

I’m not complaining . . . really. I’m not attempting to get out of celebrating the joy of my friends, but I’m thinking that there should be a mechanism of parity for people like me, the single-income supporters who don’t have gift-registry-worthy milestones. It’s likely that I won’t get married, and certain that I won’t have children, therefore, to help those of us who will never know the meaning of dual income, let’s institute a gift ceremony for the single and childless. We deserve it! We’re homeowners . . . we like nice things! There are so many things to celebrate, and we’re missing out. For example:

The Thank-God-You-Didn’t-Marry-That-Asshole party. That’s a big one! Whether you’re male or female, it’s probable that you were in a relationship, at some point, that had it continued, you would have been led to a really bad place. Escaping that dilemma unscathed is definitely worth an All-Clad or Calphalon sauce pan. Don’tcha think?

The Ugly Dress Commemoration. Another huge one! How many times, ladies, have we been in wedding parties and patiently dealt with the vibrant displays of taffeta combined with itchy crinoline and tight (cheap) shoes? We cascaded down the aisle in our hoop-skirts, and smiled pleasantly for pictures that would commemorate their “big day” forever, in the true spirit of friendship. It’s payback time. How about a set of 600 threadcount sheets?

The Surviving the Dating Minefield gala. We don’t get enough credit for this one. My married friends simply don’t understand what 30-something dating is like, and can’t comprehend how we all feel as though we’re treading lightly over a treacherous mine field where, at any moment, we can lose a limb or integral parts of our being. I think a day of beauty at a spa might soothe some of our battle wounds, or perhaps a lingerie shower to help us out a little bit?

The Friendship Alteration Recognition Event. Perhaps the biggest one of all, we — the single and childless — have put up with all of the ebbs and flows of our friendships through their life-altering events. We’ve adapted well. We’ve added new husbands, wives, and children to our A-lists. Even if we think he’s controlling, she’s a bitch, or that the kid is the biggest brat ever. We’re still in their corner. Fortunately we think they’re worth it. Perhaps a few place settings would quantify their gratitude?

Don’t get me wrong — I love my friends, and love supporting them, but I feel that there are things in the life of a single 30-something person that should also be commemorated, dammit!! Thoughts?

That’s MUCH Better! I had to get rid of that othe…

That’s MUCH Better!

I had to get rid of that other template! This is an interim template, as I plan on getting something custom-made. I need something much more specialized than I can find in the open market.

I forgot to mention that I went to a great concert last night at the Skyline Stage on Navy Pier. If any of you like good R&B bands, Mint Condition is one of the best. If you don’t know of them, you should visit their site and listen to a few of their clips.

Anyhoo, back to our controversial topic of the last few days — the women-marrying-gay-men debate — a lot of the comments have been interesting (see comments from yesterday).

It’s funny, because I always say that we women are the original rehabbers — we’re always trying to fix and renovate men to suit ourselves. For the record ladies — THIS NEVER WORKS. Never ever ever ever ever does it work. It’s right up there with getting pregnant to keep a guy.

Certain things might change. Certain things probably won’t. If you don’t like the way he dresses, you might be able to influence different wardrobe selections. You might be able to work with him to be more considerate. But, anything that he doesn’t want to do — or anything that goes against the grain of his primary personality — I wouldn’t count on a change.

That said, if anyone is foolish enough to believe that she can somehow make a gay man forget his desire for another man, she deserves to walk in on him with a man. That’s just my opinion.