Thursday, July 26, 2007

it's been one week since you looked at me*

EDITED TO ADD: Time Warner can suck my succulent left titty! When I went to the library on my lunch break to use the internet, I realized that I'd never received a confirmation e-mail from them as promised. So when I returned to my desk, I called them and had this VERBATIM conversation. I'll skip past the pleasantries and get to the annoying part.

TIME WARNER DRONE: Okay, we have you down between 10AM and noon on Tuesday, July 31st.

ME: Oh, that's great. [Note: I was pleased as punch because this meant I wouldn't have to take a whole day off. Not that I wouldn't like a whole day off, mind, but I need to save up as much vacation time as possible. I still harbor hopes of going to Costa Rica some time in the near future.]

TIME WARNER DRONE: All right, we'll be there to hook up your cable and internet.

ME: Uh, no, I just wanted internet.

TIME WARNER DRONE: Oh, I see here that your apartment complex pays for cable. Do you still want cable?

ME: No, just internet, please.

TIME WARNER DRONE: So I'll go ahead and cancel your order.

ME: No, no, I still want internet; I just don't want cable.

TIME WARNER DRONE: Oh, you want the internet still?


TIME WARNER DRONE: You can add cable for only [whatever it was; I blanked it out in my white-hot rage] extra a month.

ME: Well, like you said, my apartment pays for cable, so I only want internet.

TIME WARNER DRONE: Would you like to add long-distance phone service?

I saw a Live Journal icon once that said, "Whoever invents a way to stab people over the phone will become a millionaire."

Wiser words were never written.

(Apologies for getting Barenaked Ladies stuck in your head.)

Man, not having internet access at home blows. I thought I’d be okay, since I can access 90% of my favorite sites at work, but it’s amazing how many times I’ve needed it outside of business hours. “Hmmm, I feel like a game of Alchemy! Oh yeah, crap.” “What time does that movie start again? I’ll check the LA Times website…oh, wait. Shit.” Fortunately, Time Warner is coming out on Tuesday between 10AM and 7PM. Way to narrow it down, assholes!

Anyway, that’s a long-winded description of why I’ve been scarce around these parts. What about writing at work, you ask? A fair question, but I must remind you that as an upstanding employee of the Cube Farm, when I’m on the clock, I’m doing my job.

…okay, fine. Truth of the matter is that I’ve been unbelievably swamped at work recently. Several people have been out on vacation, including the evil malingerer I call Giggles. And check this shit out, on the day she was supposed to return to work, she called to say she wouldn’t be in because her kid was sick. Sure, right, uh-huh. That’s the breeder version of blaming the dog for your farts. She’s such a goddamn douchebag I always expect to see a trail of vinegar behind her as she clomps down the hall.

Okay, enough of that. What have I done in the last week?

I turned 36 on the 18th. I took the day off because I don’t think anyone should have to work on their goddamn birthday. I slept in late, ran a few errands, went to Borders, came home, and climbed into bed, where I alternated between reading and dozing. G, C, and M picked me up at 7, and we went to Suki 7, a hip new Japanese restaurant. The place was utterly gorgeous (peep it here), and I wondered if I could pry a Buddha picture off the wall without our busty waitress noticing. I had “kobe-style” ishi-yaki steak, which I cooked myself on a hot river stone. This was fun until hot grease started to spatter all over my bare arms and new silk dress, but my potent sake and champagne cocktail helped take a bit of the sting out of it. For dessert, I had almond cake with orange shiso (an herb from the mint family; thank you, Wikipedia!) compote, and they also brought me a martini glass full of candied ginger ice cream with a candle in it. They’d also used chocolate to write “Happy birthday” in Japanese around the rim of the serving dish, so that was a nice touch. The food was excellent, and the company, of course, was stellar.

On Friday night, I went to Borders early so I could pick up my reservation wristband for the new Harry Potter book. (Don’t worry, I’m not going to say a single thing about the book; this is strictly about getting my hands on it.) Unfortunately, for whatever reason, my name wasn’t on the preorder list. They were nice enough to write my name in, though, and with my bright pink wristband fastened securely around my wrist, I walked back out to my car so I could go home and kill some time, with the intention of returning around 12:45AM. A man offered to buy my wristband, but his offer was too low to entertain.

So I went home, booted up my computer, and tried getting online in the vain hopes that one of my neighbors had an unsecured connection. Nope. I put iTunes on shuffle and cleaned and organized until 12:45, and then I returned to Borders. I knew there would still be a line, but I figured it wouldn’t be too bad.

One hour and twelve minutes later, I was practically sprinting back to my car, book tucked under my arm like I was Tiki Barber making a touchdown. I went home, read until I could literally not keep my eyes open a second longer, and then I crashed for seven hours. When I woke up, I showered and then I read until it was time to leave for G’s. He already knew that I planned to finish the book before anyone could ruin it for me, so he read his book and I read mine. We stopped for a nap, dinner, and a movie, and then we continued reading. I finished at around 3:30AM on Sunday morning.

Yesterday, my neck, back, and shoulders were so knotted you’d think a Boy Scout had been practicing for his merit badge using my spine. I went for a massage after work, where I was mercilessly pummeled by a large black woman for a full hour. I practically had to be poured into my car.

I tipped her 30%.