My apologies to you all for not posting anything for the last several weeks; I have the usual excuses about being completely consumed with endless tasks and errands and a little something I like to call "being an overworked mom."
Mr. H. Bomb is as boundlessly energetic as ever with the added symptom of his newly-discovered mobility; ie he crawls as fast as a fully grown adult can run, especially when his goal is to upset the dish of cat food on the kitchen floor. He stands up on his own now and has been known to tentatively put forward one chubby leg in an attempt to walk, which is promptly followed by a thunderous crash, the result of his butt hitting the floor with enough force to break a moose's nose. This of course doesn't faze him in the least and he persues this cycle several more times throughout the day, terrifying my already wary cat.
He is also in a phase now that includes but is not limited to: throwing his arms out to be held at every given opportunity; crawling frantically after me whenever I leave the room and screaming loudly in a way that makes me wonder whether bloodthirsty badgers are attacking him any time he loses sight of me. It's cute in a way, especially when he throws his little arms around me when I pick him up. The needy phase does have its perks; cuddling has become increasingly easy as long as he isn't in "flail wildly" mode.
So with all of that and the ever-present demands of my job and the delightful addition of a new stress: awesome car accident resulting in my fender being fucked beyond belief, I haven't been able to get to the computer for long enough to get more than twelve words in before I recieve a summons for something new.
Nothing new has been going on for the most part other than an unforrunate downward turn in my self-esteem level due to increasing self-torment over my weight. I haven't had the time or energy to get myself to the gym so that even though I am eating better I don't lose anything and the mirror (that dirty sonofabitch)just keeps reminding me that my hips and thighs are gargantuan. I suppose it's my own fault for gaining five pounds while on vacation but it's still frustrating. I have to get addicted to working out again so that I go through withdrawal if I haven't been to the gym in more than a few days. I used to be like that and I saw results fairly quickly and felt much better about myself.
And I KNOW it's stupid that I think I'm a fatty. I know I'm really not because I take reasonably good care of myself and have a sense of self-control that doesn't allow me to eat my own body weight in crisco-coated deliciousness. I just have this ridiculous obsession with celebrity trash magazines and websites that cause me to have this unrealistic expectation of what is beautiful and what is skinny. I'm not talking like I think that Nicole Richie is the epitome of the perfect body or anything, but I feel like while I am still young with the opportunity I should be able to tune my body to look as good as some of theirs do. I have a gym membership that I pay for every month and the means to get myself down to it, so aside from "being too tired," or whatever excuse it may be at the moment, I have virtually no reason to not go, no reason to not be in the kind of shape that I want to be. It's just frustrating that getting results takes so long and me being impatient as I am often counteracts any progress I make, so it's like a neverending cycle until I kick myself hard enough to simply stick with it.
Hopefully this time I can actually motivate myself enough to reach my goal of 22lbs off my current weight, which I shall not disclose as it is really disturbing to see in writing on the screen. I'll try to keep updating with my progress and maybe I'll have better luck with this project than I have had with my novel, which lies dormant in the sock drawer collecting dust and feeling abandoned.
You would think that running after a jet-propelled toddler would be enough to keep any person in phenomenal shape. You would be wrong. Apparently that only happens when you have a horde of them. Just look at Jon & Kate + 8's publicity whore mother Kate. Aside from the tummy tuck she had way back when, chasing after a bazillion kids has kept her looking fabulous. It's too bad that with that you also develop a drinking problem. There's a side effect of everything I guess.
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Top 10 Celebrity Clause
I feel it is necessary just to point out that even in a healthy relationship between two committed people, that a very important rule needs to be established: The Celebrity Clause. I don't care what you say, if you ever happened to find yourself in the situation (as unlikely as it is) in which you had the opportunity to bang a particularly fine specimen of the celebritorial variety, you would totally do it. In a heartbeat. Don't lie to yourself, and don't lie to your partner; it's not fair to either of you. In order to maintain the honesty of your relationship, establish your celebrity clause, aka the celebrity you could sleep with and get away with it. I personally, being a huge whore, have a list of 10, carefully selected to be on this most prestigious roster. It is not a particularly typical list either; you will see neither Brad Pitt or George Clooney on there and you will probably call me a freak for some of my choices. Just be aware that I want to see your lists too in my comments section after all this, and I know full well who all is reading this these days so don't think you can get away with not commenting. That said, enjoy.
10. Johnny Depp
The old standby. I recognize that he is easily old enough to be my father and I am fully ok with that fact. Dude is hot. Old and hot. Plus, he owns a fuckin island. That's hella cool. 9. John Mayer
He's decently hot, but it's really his voice that gets me. He literally has one of the most seductive singing voices known to man in my opinion. He would rank much higher if he hadn't been defiled by basically every female celebrity in Hollywood, but there you are. 8. Daniel Dae Kim
If you know me, you know how I feel about Asians, and he epitomizes to me the perfect hot Asian male, with cheekbones that could cut diamond. He is one of my favorite reasons to watch Lost every week. 7. Jason Segel
In case you aren't aware, this was the guy who played Peter in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, (one of my favorite movies) and most recently, I Love You Man. He's totally attractive just because he's hilarious and I never get tired of watching him sing in a Dracula voice. I like a boy who makes me laugh. 6. Chris Pine
If you don't know who he is you must be living under a large boulder, but if so, he played Captain Kirk in Star Trek, which by the way, you should totally go see. Not only was he an excellent Kirk, but he is delicious. Nuff said. 5. Ben Barnes
aka Prince Caspian. He can rule my kingdom aaaalllllll day. Lol that's a little gross, sorry. 4. Shia Lebeouf.
I have been totally in love with him since his Even Stevens days when he was playing Louis. When I saw Transformers I wasn't sure if I was watching the movie at all because all i remember was him running a lot. It was a good couple of hours. 3. Ed Westwick
For anyone awesome (or lame) enough to watch Gossip Girl, you'll know that Mr. Westwick plays the best character in existence: the nefarious, scheming Chuck Bass. One wicked smirk from him per day is all I really need in life. Not to mention that in real life he's English and plays in a punk rock band. Super hot. Total win. 2.Robert Pattinson
WHAT. A. SHOCK. I don't think I have met anyone yet who is not in agreeance or completely dazzled by his gravity-defyingly epic hair. He's so attractive it's actually a little bit painful. 1. Zachary Quinto
Kind of unexpected, right? I hope you are familiar with his work, as he does play the best villain of all time, Sylar, on Heroes. I think you might recognize his work in Star Trek if you saw it, as the best Spock ever. I find his ridiculous/epic eyebrows fascinating, his cutting open people's heads to eat their powers awesome, and him in general to be like the sexiest man of all time. I sincerely hope he is Jewish because then I will have justification to stalk him without feeling too guilty about it. You know how I love the Jews.
So basically what I'm saying is, bring me one and I'll totally love you forever. Like. Forever. Failing that, tell me your top picks.
I'll be waiting, b's. Peace out.
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
The old standby. I recognize that he is easily old enough to be my father and I am fully ok with that fact. Dude is hot. Old and hot. Plus, he owns a fuckin island. That's hella cool. 9. John Mayer
He's decently hot, but it's really his voice that gets me. He literally has one of the most seductive singing voices known to man in my opinion. He would rank much higher if he hadn't been defiled by basically every female celebrity in Hollywood, but there you are. 8. Daniel Dae Kim
If you know me, you know how I feel about Asians, and he epitomizes to me the perfect hot Asian male, with cheekbones that could cut diamond. He is one of my favorite reasons to watch Lost every week. 7. Jason Segel
In case you aren't aware, this was the guy who played Peter in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, (one of my favorite movies) and most recently, I Love You Man. He's totally attractive just because he's hilarious and I never get tired of watching him sing in a Dracula voice. I like a boy who makes me laugh. 6. Chris Pine
If you don't know who he is you must be living under a large boulder, but if so, he played Captain Kirk in Star Trek, which by the way, you should totally go see. Not only was he an excellent Kirk, but he is delicious. Nuff said. 5. Ben Barnes
aka Prince Caspian. He can rule my kingdom aaaalllllll day. Lol that's a little gross, sorry. 4. Shia Lebeouf.
I have been totally in love with him since his Even Stevens days when he was playing Louis. When I saw Transformers I wasn't sure if I was watching the movie at all because all i remember was him running a lot. It was a good couple of hours. 3. Ed Westwick
For anyone awesome (or lame) enough to watch Gossip Girl, you'll know that Mr. Westwick plays the best character in existence: the nefarious, scheming Chuck Bass. One wicked smirk from him per day is all I really need in life. Not to mention that in real life he's English and plays in a punk rock band. Super hot. Total win. 2.Robert Pattinson
WHAT. A. SHOCK. I don't think I have met anyone yet who is not in agreeance or completely dazzled by his gravity-defyingly epic hair. He's so attractive it's actually a little bit painful. 1. Zachary Quinto
Kind of unexpected, right? I hope you are familiar with his work, as he does play the best villain of all time, Sylar, on Heroes. I think you might recognize his work in Star Trek if you saw it, as the best Spock ever. I find his ridiculous/epic eyebrows fascinating, his cutting open people's heads to eat their powers awesome, and him in general to be like the sexiest man of all time. I sincerely hope he is Jewish because then I will have justification to stalk him without feeling too guilty about it. You know how I love the Jews.
So basically what I'm saying is, bring me one and I'll totally love you forever. Like. Forever. Failing that, tell me your top picks.
I'll be waiting, b's. Peace out.
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Caution: Heavy on the Holden
Yes, I am back from San Francisco and have been for a week now but I have left my "avid" readers high and dry til now because I am basically too busy to remember to update. That and it has taken me this long to recover slightly from the ennui that overtook me after arriving back in the Springs to return to reality.
That said, this time was not as difficult as the previous times when I have visited purely because this time I missed Holden so much that it made me physically nauseous. In fact, the last night I was there I went to dinner with Ed and Erica to a sushi restaurant downtown and at the sight of an adorable little Asian baby boy I very nearly burst into tears. I tried my best not to sulk over it as he toddled about the place on unsteady legs, but all I could see was Holden, and all I could do the rest of the night was miss him. So this time when I arrived in Denver International Airport I was only partially filled with the dread that usually floods over me; I felt pure joy that soon I would be cuddling with his squirmy, giggling chubby little body but feared for his father that I would never be able to let him go again after all that.
Upon seeing me walk through the door of his daddy's house, his face lit up with a huge happy grin and he screamed like a banshee. I was so relieved at this; I had been worrying endlessly that in the week and a half it had been since he had seen me last that me might have forgotten my face, but it seems that Mommy is unforgettable. Which I am quite alright with.
Aside from attempting to cuddle with a relentlessly crawling baby, I have been busy as ever catching up with bills, housework and the usual neverending journey known as work. I managed to pawn off my Satanic cat to Jeremy's mom, who had been pining for a new cat since her's passed away a few years ago. He made a grave mistake in attacking the Siberian Husky that lives with her and now it seems he has calmed down significantly from his previously aggressive self, limiting himself to ankle attacks only now. I adopted a new kittie from the Humane Society my first day back because I still like the idea of having a cuddly, low-maintenence animal in the house, and so far so good- this time I opted for a three-year-old female weighing in at an astounding 17.2 lbs with stripes and spots like the bastard love child of a portly cheetah and a rotund tiger. She is everything that Douche-Kittie wasn't: affectionate, quiet, self-sufficient and doesn't shit every fourteen minutes. She will crawl into your lap or onto your chest of her own accord and just sit and purr or lick your neck. I named her Holly because it seemed to fit her personality for some reason, but like my dogs, I rarely call her anything other than "kiki," which she responds to with what I imagine to be a slightly impatient roll of the eyes. Although right now she has an upper respiratory infection is breathing snot bubbles in Jeremy's face at every opportunity, so she isn't very happy with life and spends all day perched atop my pillows on the bed, looking snottily petulant.
So things are getting back to their normal routine: Get up, get baby up, feed baby, bring baby to daycare, work for 8 hours, pick up baby from daycare, play with baby til baby goes to bed, smoke hookah while reading 1.Prince Caspian or 2.I am America (And So Can You!) and finally bed. Rinse, lather, repeat. And while I am not dissatisfied with my life in the least, I built up this trip to California so much that now that it's over and done with, I feel a kind of void where the excitement and anticipation used to be. I think it might have something to do with the fact that I am just so burnt out on this town and Colorado in general that being here is causing my soul (what's left of it) to be slowly drained away.
I mean, what's really keeping me here? It's not difficult to transfer to another store in a different state with my company, and I could take Holden with me if his father and I could come to some kind of living arrangement agreement. I know Jeremy would come with me in a heartbeat too... and I don't want my youth to be wasted living in a place that makes me so utterly depressed just because I was too scared to move on. I think that when my lease is up next July I will finally take the plunge and just do it; finally do what I have been talking about for years: leave. I feel confident that Spencer will be understanding of my decision but I also have a feeling that he won't be particularly pleased about it. Ugh, the trials and tribulations of the single mother continue....
On a less stressful note, we went to the Cheyenne Mountain zoo again yesterday and Holden expressed slightly more interest in the animals this time around, going so far as to reach out and scream at the hippos. Very cute. But, as is his way, he passed right out towards the end of our excursion and used my sunglasses as a teddy bear:
There you go, enjoy all that baby-centered content and stop bothering me to see pictures, dammit.
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
pee.dot.ess.dot.
My eyelashes are finally growing back! They're long enough now to put Diorshow mascara (ohhh so good) on and people have stopped asking if I caught fire! Woo! Just thought you should know.
That said, this time was not as difficult as the previous times when I have visited purely because this time I missed Holden so much that it made me physically nauseous. In fact, the last night I was there I went to dinner with Ed and Erica to a sushi restaurant downtown and at the sight of an adorable little Asian baby boy I very nearly burst into tears. I tried my best not to sulk over it as he toddled about the place on unsteady legs, but all I could see was Holden, and all I could do the rest of the night was miss him. So this time when I arrived in Denver International Airport I was only partially filled with the dread that usually floods over me; I felt pure joy that soon I would be cuddling with his squirmy, giggling chubby little body but feared for his father that I would never be able to let him go again after all that.
Upon seeing me walk through the door of his daddy's house, his face lit up with a huge happy grin and he screamed like a banshee. I was so relieved at this; I had been worrying endlessly that in the week and a half it had been since he had seen me last that me might have forgotten my face, but it seems that Mommy is unforgettable. Which I am quite alright with.
Aside from attempting to cuddle with a relentlessly crawling baby, I have been busy as ever catching up with bills, housework and the usual neverending journey known as work. I managed to pawn off my Satanic cat to Jeremy's mom, who had been pining for a new cat since her's passed away a few years ago. He made a grave mistake in attacking the Siberian Husky that lives with her and now it seems he has calmed down significantly from his previously aggressive self, limiting himself to ankle attacks only now. I adopted a new kittie from the Humane Society my first day back because I still like the idea of having a cuddly, low-maintenence animal in the house, and so far so good- this time I opted for a three-year-old female weighing in at an astounding 17.2 lbs with stripes and spots like the bastard love child of a portly cheetah and a rotund tiger. She is everything that Douche-Kittie wasn't: affectionate, quiet, self-sufficient and doesn't shit every fourteen minutes. She will crawl into your lap or onto your chest of her own accord and just sit and purr or lick your neck. I named her Holly because it seemed to fit her personality for some reason, but like my dogs, I rarely call her anything other than "kiki," which she responds to with what I imagine to be a slightly impatient roll of the eyes. Although right now she has an upper respiratory infection is breathing snot bubbles in Jeremy's face at every opportunity, so she isn't very happy with life and spends all day perched atop my pillows on the bed, looking snottily petulant.
So things are getting back to their normal routine: Get up, get baby up, feed baby, bring baby to daycare, work for 8 hours, pick up baby from daycare, play with baby til baby goes to bed, smoke hookah while reading 1.Prince Caspian or 2.I am America (And So Can You!) and finally bed. Rinse, lather, repeat. And while I am not dissatisfied with my life in the least, I built up this trip to California so much that now that it's over and done with, I feel a kind of void where the excitement and anticipation used to be. I think it might have something to do with the fact that I am just so burnt out on this town and Colorado in general that being here is causing my soul (what's left of it) to be slowly drained away.
I mean, what's really keeping me here? It's not difficult to transfer to another store in a different state with my company, and I could take Holden with me if his father and I could come to some kind of living arrangement agreement. I know Jeremy would come with me in a heartbeat too... and I don't want my youth to be wasted living in a place that makes me so utterly depressed just because I was too scared to move on. I think that when my lease is up next July I will finally take the plunge and just do it; finally do what I have been talking about for years: leave. I feel confident that Spencer will be understanding of my decision but I also have a feeling that he won't be particularly pleased about it. Ugh, the trials and tribulations of the single mother continue....
On a less stressful note, we went to the Cheyenne Mountain zoo again yesterday and Holden expressed slightly more interest in the animals this time around, going so far as to reach out and scream at the hippos. Very cute. But, as is his way, he passed right out towards the end of our excursion and used my sunglasses as a teddy bear:
There you go, enjoy all that baby-centered content and stop bothering me to see pictures, dammit.
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
pee.dot.ess.dot.
My eyelashes are finally growing back! They're long enough now to put Diorshow mascara (ohhh so good) on and people have stopped asking if I caught fire! Woo! Just thought you should know.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
It's Exhausting Being a Baby
Holden has never expressed much interest in anything at the zoo other than the plethora of "baby treats" he has in front of him. Every now and then he will look mildly amused by an animal or at best, vaguely entertained for 15 seconds.
On mother's day we took our fourth outing to the Cheyenne Mountain zoo in town and, in his usual fashion, he favoured the peach yogurt melts in front of him over the adorable antics of the otters or any other animal for that matter. At one point I discovered him slumped over the plastic bar in front of him in what I assumed to be an attempt on his part to retrieve said treats that might have fallen into his lap. What had actually happened was that he had apparently gotten so bored by all the tedious animal watching that he completely passed out in the most hilarious way I have ever seen a child sleep.
Shortly thereafter we left the zoo, and I assume that his drowsiness was so infectious that it attacked me midway home to the point that I actually had to pull over into the gravel driveway of "Colorado Custom Decks," and have an hour and a half long nap myself. We woke simultaneously; upset and with sore necks. Ah, the zoo. Always good for a story.
More later, don't miss me too much mine army of rabid readers! (Haha.)
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
Friday, May 15, 2009
Senioritis
Currently I am afflicted with a condition that was known in my high skool as "wanting-to-get-the-fuck-out-of-this-shit-hole-itis," more commonly known as "senioritis."
This condition affects those, like myself, who are about to be freed from the prison that is their everyday life and set free for a certain amount of time so as not to go on a homicidal killing spree. Symptoms include but are not limited to irritability, frustration, listlessness, becoming comatose or unresponsive to any kind of provocation and complete and utter disregard for anything. The afflicted individual may respond to interactions with others simply by waving a middle finger in their face or, as in my case, mumble about "not giving a flying squirrel fuck." It's rough in these last few days before my vacation.
My coworkers are doing their utmost to push me over the edge of sanity with their insufferable immaturity and I almost threw my (most hated arch-nemesis) cat off of the third-floor balcony of my apartment this morning when I discovered that he had relieved his nocturnal frustrations on a roll of toilet paper which was displayed in decorative patterns on the carpet throughout the house.
I believe that this sudden outpouring of rage originated yesterday with a woman I helped in my store who pissed me off so thoroughly that I was physically shaking whilst helping her aging-Malibu-Barbie-self. I won't go into detail about the interaction, but I will say that if I ever see her bitch-ass anywhere other than work I will punch her in the over-lipsticked mouth. And if she comes back today to berate me again I will tell her to her face that I refuse to assist her due to the fact that I don't much relish the idea of being spoken to as if I were her bitch.
Does he look like a bitch? Does he look like a bitch? Then why you gotta fuck him like a bitch?
After helping that poor excuse for a human being, my previous good mood (thanks to my $500 bonus) was totally ruined after this and not helped along by the stream of ass-lancing customers that followed until I finally ran screaming hysterically from the building at 8:40pm. Apparently that foul mood carrieed over to this morning. Add to that the fact that I still have ZERO coffee coursing through my bloodstream and the knowledge that I am stuck at work yet again until 5:30, which may as well be next year.
The only thought that is simultaneously torturing me and keeping me from stabbing people is that my vacation is only 5 days away; tomorrow is my last day at work before I actually leave. I am trying very hard to not take my inner rage out on my customers, the majority of whom are actually fairly nice people who don't deserve to be the reciepients of my frustrations. I'll reserve that venom for people like that woman who in all actuality deserve a good hard kick in the shins for being total douche hats who contribute nothing more to the human race than to give people a good reason to become serial killers.
But, to put a positive spin on this, I'LL BE IN SAN FRANCISCO THIS TIME NEXT WEEK BITCHES, WOOOOT!
That's all I can write for now without spontaneously combusting, so au revoir til next time mon amies.
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
This condition affects those, like myself, who are about to be freed from the prison that is their everyday life and set free for a certain amount of time so as not to go on a homicidal killing spree. Symptoms include but are not limited to irritability, frustration, listlessness, becoming comatose or unresponsive to any kind of provocation and complete and utter disregard for anything. The afflicted individual may respond to interactions with others simply by waving a middle finger in their face or, as in my case, mumble about "not giving a flying squirrel fuck." It's rough in these last few days before my vacation.
My coworkers are doing their utmost to push me over the edge of sanity with their insufferable immaturity and I almost threw my (most hated arch-nemesis) cat off of the third-floor balcony of my apartment this morning when I discovered that he had relieved his nocturnal frustrations on a roll of toilet paper which was displayed in decorative patterns on the carpet throughout the house.
I believe that this sudden outpouring of rage originated yesterday with a woman I helped in my store who pissed me off so thoroughly that I was physically shaking whilst helping her aging-Malibu-Barbie-self. I won't go into detail about the interaction, but I will say that if I ever see her bitch-ass anywhere other than work I will punch her in the over-lipsticked mouth. And if she comes back today to berate me again I will tell her to her face that I refuse to assist her due to the fact that I don't much relish the idea of being spoken to as if I were her bitch.
After helping that poor excuse for a human being, my previous good mood (thanks to my $500 bonus) was totally ruined after this and not helped along by the stream of ass-lancing customers that followed until I finally ran screaming hysterically from the building at 8:40pm. Apparently that foul mood carrieed over to this morning. Add to that the fact that I still have ZERO coffee coursing through my bloodstream and the knowledge that I am stuck at work yet again until 5:30, which may as well be next year.
The only thought that is simultaneously torturing me and keeping me from stabbing people is that my vacation is only 5 days away; tomorrow is my last day at work before I actually leave. I am trying very hard to not take my inner rage out on my customers, the majority of whom are actually fairly nice people who don't deserve to be the reciepients of my frustrations. I'll reserve that venom for people like that woman who in all actuality deserve a good hard kick in the shins for being total douche hats who contribute nothing more to the human race than to give people a good reason to become serial killers.
But, to put a positive spin on this, I'LL BE IN SAN FRANCISCO THIS TIME NEXT WEEK BITCHES, WOOOOT!
That's all I can write for now without spontaneously combusting, so au revoir til next time mon amies.
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Cinderella at the Ball
Last Saturday night I volunteered to attend the Junior Achievement Benefit Auction/ Banquet at the Antlers Hilton (a fancy schmancy hotel downtown) as part of a group of employee sponsors for the event. It was a black tie-optional event, which was my primary motivation for volunteering myself for what was guaranteed to be a brain-numbingly dull evening chock full of stuffy CEO's and their fuddy-duddy wives.
You see, I am at heart a huge girly girl and love nothing more than an opportunity to dress up as lavishly as possible, so at the chance of looking fine in my favorite LBD and pretend to be ladylike while stuffing my face with lavish hors d'oeuvres, I will be the first to jump up and scream, "TAKE ME TOO!"
So was it worth the painful fake smile I plastered on my face? Was it worth it despite the assistant manager of our North location ogling me shamelessly for nearly three hours?
Simply put, yes. It was worth it just because Derek and Lauren and I mocked the women wearing atrocious outfits whilst eating bacon-wrapped scallops (is there a more perfect food?) and because afterwards when my regional director jetted, we made our way to 15c, the cigar bar a few blocks away. Reminiscing about the woman who wore what appeared to be her puffy-sleeved wedding dress from 1987 and the adorable chocolate lab who was auctioned off for a ridiculous $1200, we smoked our stogies and drank our dirty dirty martinis with mock- James Bond style coolness. It was a good night.
You see, I am at heart a huge girly girl and love nothing more than an opportunity to dress up as lavishly as possible, so at the chance of looking fine in my favorite LBD and pretend to be ladylike while stuffing my face with lavish hors d'oeuvres, I will be the first to jump up and scream, "TAKE ME TOO!"
So was it worth the painful fake smile I plastered on my face? Was it worth it despite the assistant manager of our North location ogling me shamelessly for nearly three hours?
Simply put, yes. It was worth it just because Derek and Lauren and I mocked the women wearing atrocious outfits whilst eating bacon-wrapped scallops (is there a more perfect food?) and because afterwards when my regional director jetted, we made our way to 15c, the cigar bar a few blocks away. Reminiscing about the woman who wore what appeared to be her puffy-sleeved wedding dress from 1987 and the adorable chocolate lab who was auctioned off for a ridiculous $1200, we smoked our stogies and drank our dirty dirty martinis with mock- James Bond style coolness. It was a good night.
In other news, I saw the new Star Trek movie the other night; I absolutely ♥loved♥ it and I think J.J. Abrams did a fabulous job really updating the look and feel of the crew and the Enterprise. I was already in love with Zachary Quinto before this movie, but now I am actually borderline obsessed with him. He was the hottest most badass Spock ever, and I fully dig him and his phenomenal eyebrows. I watched an interview with him and Leonard Nimoy with Jimmy Fallon and he was wearing the most amazing Buddy Holly-style glasses; I practically drooled on myself through the entire length of this interview. I think I have a problem.
Chris Pine was an excellent James Kirk though- as cocky and independent as I always thought he should be; the bad-boy attitude and womanizing green women were nice touches too. The only character that I was a little turned off by was Uhura- Zoe Saldana is a great actress and a beautiful girl, but bloody hell was she too damn skinny. It made her look severe and gaunt with her hair back like it was, and as a result I kind of cringed everytime she was on screen. Other than that minor detail though, it was well-cast and one of the best movies I have seen in a long time. And that opinion has (almost) nothing to do with Zachary Quinto... so there.
I think that's all I've got for now, but I'll be back!
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
FML
If ever there has been a time to vent and release some pent up rage, now is that time. I have been fairly bursting at the seams today to scream until my voice is ragged or throw something heavy at a pane of glass just to savor the satisfaction of watching it shatter.
Needless to say, this has been an awful morning. One of the worst I have had in months; I'm not relishing the idea of continuing this day unless it involves me and a fabulously comfy meat mattress and possibly a torrid affair with the guy who played ♥Prince Caspian.♥
I feel like I'm stuck in one of those A Series of Unfortunate Events books and bad luck is chasing me wherever I go. From the runny/stuffy nose that came out of nowhere this morning to the douchebag in the hoopty truck who wouldn't get out of the left lane on the interstate, it seems that today is just not my day.
Work hasn't proven to be any better, considering that even just now I unscrewed the cap from my bottle of water and said cap bounced onto the counter and then launched itself so far behind the computer that I can't even reach it. The little things like that just add to my chagrin, not to mention the CUSTOMERS THAT MADE ME WANT TO STRANGLE A SMALL DOG.
Jeremy and I call them richers, a term for obviously wealthy people who are so far up their own asses its absurd. They can be overheard at restaurants and other public establishments telling one another about the fabulous vacation they just took to St. Bart's or Switzerland and how quaint the local customs were and how much they missed their little Shih Tzu Muffy SO much because the mean people at the airlines said she couldn't ride with them on the plane. You know, the kind of people who have major entitlement issues because they think the world owes them something on account of how much money they have.
Generally these people make me furious because they all have the same haughty, puffed up countenance and wear their stupid cardigans around their shoulders. They fairly ooze self-appointed superiority and despite their obvious fundage they are the biggest tightwads to walk the earth, a combination which makes for a very unpleasant sales experience for both of us, because they want free phones and they damn well better not have text messaging on them. Admittedly I take some satisfaction in delivering the news that we don't offer free phones, but they could certainly try our website if they would like, knowing always that they'll reply loftily about how technology illiterate they are and something about having servants take care of computery-type deals FOR THEM.
An older couple of this pedigree were some of my first customers of the day, and I found my distate for their attitude settled upon me almost immedietely. The next half an hour spent attempting to unlock the thinking portion of their brains was futile to say the least, and the cocker spaniel that they thought to bring into the store with them probably realized that it had a much higher level of common sense than its owners combined, which is most likely why it whined piteously the whole time.
I hope their phones topple over the edge of their schooner while vacationing in Brazil, because they didn't want insurance on them, and I would devour an opportunity as delicious as informing them that the replacements will be $250 apiece.
I'm clinging desperately to the hope that watching the two episodes of Gossip Girl I have recorded will put my mood right... Chuck Bass usually has that effect on me. Ahhh- if only the richers that I helped had a wickedly attractive smirk like him, I could stand the pointed distate for Middle classers such as myself that dare not let them have their way.
I think that that rant was quite sufficient enough to temporarily quell the burning desire to shake someone... for now. As for the next four hours of my shift, I can't make any promises. Let's just hope I don't make the papers tomorrow for mass homicide.
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
Needless to say, this has been an awful morning. One of the worst I have had in months; I'm not relishing the idea of continuing this day unless it involves me and a fabulously comfy meat mattress and possibly a torrid affair with the guy who played ♥Prince Caspian.♥
I feel like I'm stuck in one of those A Series of Unfortunate Events books and bad luck is chasing me wherever I go. From the runny/stuffy nose that came out of nowhere this morning to the douchebag in the hoopty truck who wouldn't get out of the left lane on the interstate, it seems that today is just not my day.
Work hasn't proven to be any better, considering that even just now I unscrewed the cap from my bottle of water and said cap bounced onto the counter and then launched itself so far behind the computer that I can't even reach it. The little things like that just add to my chagrin, not to mention the CUSTOMERS THAT MADE ME WANT TO STRANGLE A SMALL DOG.
Jeremy and I call them richers, a term for obviously wealthy people who are so far up their own asses its absurd. They can be overheard at restaurants and other public establishments telling one another about the fabulous vacation they just took to St. Bart's or Switzerland and how quaint the local customs were and how much they missed their little Shih Tzu Muffy SO much because the mean people at the airlines said she couldn't ride with them on the plane. You know, the kind of people who have major entitlement issues because they think the world owes them something on account of how much money they have.
Generally these people make me furious because they all have the same haughty, puffed up countenance and wear their stupid cardigans around their shoulders. They fairly ooze self-appointed superiority and despite their obvious fundage they are the biggest tightwads to walk the earth, a combination which makes for a very unpleasant sales experience for both of us, because they want free phones and they damn well better not have text messaging on them. Admittedly I take some satisfaction in delivering the news that we don't offer free phones, but they could certainly try our website if they would like, knowing always that they'll reply loftily about how technology illiterate they are and something about having servants take care of computery-type deals FOR THEM.
An older couple of this pedigree were some of my first customers of the day, and I found my distate for their attitude settled upon me almost immedietely. The next half an hour spent attempting to unlock the thinking portion of their brains was futile to say the least, and the cocker spaniel that they thought to bring into the store with them probably realized that it had a much higher level of common sense than its owners combined, which is most likely why it whined piteously the whole time.
I'm clinging desperately to the hope that watching the two episodes of Gossip Girl I have recorded will put my mood right... Chuck Bass usually has that effect on me. Ahhh- if only the richers that I helped had a wickedly attractive smirk like him, I could stand the pointed distate for Middle classers such as myself that dare not let them have their way.
I think that that rant was quite sufficient enough to temporarily quell the burning desire to shake someone... for now. As for the next four hours of my shift, I can't make any promises. Let's just hope I don't make the papers tomorrow for mass homicide.
X o X o,
♥luvcatt♥
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