Oof.
So J and I had had on our calendar for months that Deke Dickerson was playing at the Continental Club last night (yes, a SUNDAY, as in The Day Before Monday). There have been several times where someone we want to see is playing on a Sunday night, but we always chicken out when it comes down to getting ready to leave the house at 9 o’clock.
But Deke only comes to town about once a year, and we really like his music – catchy, eclectic, clever, and best of all, danceable. So we sucked it up and went last night. We had a good time, but it was a pitiful crowd – less than 30 folks there, when on a Saturday night, a Deke show would pack the place. So I felt a little bad that Houston gave such a poor showing, but it was nice to have the dance floor mostly to ourselves.

It was after midnight before we left, and then after the drive home and having a snack, it was 1:30 before lights out. I knew it would be a late night, and set my alarm for 6:45, but J forgot to change his, and it went off at 6, and I was up. Damn.

Luckily, my steady sips of caffeine over the course of the morning have perked me up a bit. But this getting-through-a-work-day-on-4-hours-of-sleep thing…I am too fucking old.

Oy – TFGIG!

Thanks for your kind comments this week. Allie, I haven’t had to punch anyone as you suggested, but I did get a little drunk the other night to make myself feel better. Alcohol: the ultimate salve for your bruised ego and psyche.

Luckily, today is flying by, and I’ve only got 2 ½ hours left – yay flex time!!!

I hope to get a post of some substance up by the end of the day – I’ve been neglecting you lately.

So I was an idiot yesterday and left my wallet here at work, and didn’t realize it until I got all the way home. I was on the phone with customer service about some clothes I’d ordered, and they asked for my credit card number, and even though I could remember the 16-digit number, I wasn’t sure of the expiration, so when I went digging to verify it, I had a bit of a freak-out when it was missing, and this poor lady had to sit there and listen to me say “Oh, SHIT” about 10 times.
Anyway, because J was less than sympathetic about lending me the last of his cash so I could get my expensive-ass coffee as usual, I drove to work broke. (Ass.) “No worries”, I thought; “There’s a Starbucks kiosk in the cafeteria – I’m golden.” So after I purchased my breakfast taco, I calmly walked over to the cart and ordered my grande nonfat no-whip mocha, and a minute later, glided across the caf, down the sidewalk, up the stairs, and to my desk in blissful anticipation of my caffeine fix. Life is good.
WRONG.
After getting settled back in at my desk, I took one sip of the coffee, and instead of the sweet, mocha nectar I was expecting, I got burnt chocolate ass. OH GOD, it was horrible.
I took a drink of water, and then tried another sip, thinking maybe it had just hit my palette wrong. Nope, still ass.
So I had to throw away a full, $3.63 cup of coffee, and I’m grumpy about it, and in an hour I’ll have a headache because I haven’t had my caffeine this morning, but I don’t want to drink a Coke because sodas in the morning give me a stomachache, so GRRRRR. POOP ON EVERYONE.

I’m not the only one that idly Googles ex-boyfriends, right…?

Minimal Brain Function Monday

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Ginny
2. Gin
3. Little Brown-Haired Girl

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. altoqueen511
2. gin_y_juice
3. That’s it

THREE PHYSICAL TRAITS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Feet
2. Eye color
3. Hair (during the 3 weeks a year when we have low humidity)

THREE PHYSICAL TRAITS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Pudge
2. The squintiness of my eyes
3. The flatness of my booty

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. English
2. Irish
3. Mexican

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. The possibility of being unable to have children
2. Creepy crawly anything
3. Losing someone I love

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Minute Maid Pulp-Free Orange Juice
2. Burt’s Bees Lip Balm
3. Mascara (right now I’m using Dior, and I’m digging it)

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Khakis
2. Navy blue short-sleeve sweater
3. A red bra

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. BF5
2. Southern Culture
3. Amy Winehouse, hot mess that she is

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. Someone who does not take themselves too seriously
2. Someone who will fight with me
3. Honesty

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (in no particular order):
1. I can’t cook rice
2. I own 12 pairs of jeans
3. I have shitty handwriting

THREE PHYSICAL TRAITS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. An easy smile
2. Red hair
3. Long eyelashes

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Cooking
2. Dancing
3. Posting, when I have anything of interest to write about

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Spend time with Jamie
2. Go shopping
3. Chill at home

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING/YOU'VE CONSIDERED:
1. High School Speech Teacher
2. Stay-At-Home Mom
3. Badass

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. NYC again
2. The mountains, maybe Wyoming
3. California again would be cool, too

THREE KIDS NAMES YOU LIKE:
1. Kate
2. Anna
3. Michael

(OMG, I just realized that those are all names of characters on Lost – that is honestly just a coincidence. Kate is after the BF5 song; Anna I just like, plus it is a family name; I've always liked Michael.)

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Have children
2. Have grandchildren
3. Live in the Texas Hill Country

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL:
1. I don’t like to get dirty
2. I like to buy shoes
3. I prefer to stick to the cooking and housecleaning, and let John take care of the outside stuff

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:
1. I like to roll over and fall asleep immediately after sex
2. Most of the time, I prefer steak, potatoes, and beer over fine wining and dining
3. I’m an aggressive driver

I'm not tagging anyone - if you just need a diversion and/or something to post, like I did, have at it.

Work has been kinda rough lately. I’ve been pretty busy, which has been good for my mental health, but there has been a LOT of drama of the Mean Girls variety going on, so I’ve traded one kind of mental taxation for another.

I won’t get into specifics, because none of you care (and frankly, I’m tired of rehashing), but suffice it to say I am really, really tired of women’s passive-aggressive bullshit. I miss my good girlfriends. I miss being able to talk to women that won’t totally tear me apart, personally and/or professionally, the minute I leave my desk. It’s not that I care too much what people say; people will talk no matter what, all I can do is try to limit their fodder. But the Nasty lingers in the air, and that cloud of heavy, gray Yuck hovers over our cube, and it makes it so hard to try to get through the day when that fog is in your way. Not that I buy into the New Age-y stuff, but my aura is totally cluttered and blackened.

So here’s my thought for the day: Don’t stir up shit unnecessarily, because God knows it will find you soon enough. Try being nice, or at the very least, keeping your mouth shut. Do your whining and moaning at happy hour or at home – that’s why God invented Significant Others, so you’d have someone to bitch to at the end of the day.

I’ve had a really hard time getting out of bed lately. I set my alarm nice and early, in hopes that I can get a head start on the traffic, get a great parking spot, and get a lot accomplished in the quiet morning hours here at work, and it is…just not happening.

Not only am I getting out of bed later, but I keep dawdling while I’m getting ready – This pair of pants? Hmmm…wait, nope, too much booty for these. But now I need different shoes…and I really don’t like this shirt with them – and then HOLY SHIT IT’S 7:15!!!

So I rush off to work, and magically, my MP3 player senses my stress, and delivers the best, most rockin’ mix of music. It’s like it’s saying, “Hey. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

I love it when that happens. I’m in traffic, stuck at an intersection as a light goes through its third cycle and I’m still not moving, but no stress, I’m grooving…and hey, I like the way you move, Bog Boi. And Miss Benatar, we do belong together. And maybe it’s not Friday, but I am in love, so I’ll play along, Robert Smith. And no, I can’t go for that either, Mr.’s Hall and Oates.

And suddenly, I’m at work, strolling through the parking lot, coffee in hand, and it’s gonna be a good day.