Being Real

My dad had a horrible accident on a mountain road on his way to Tahoe on Saturday and he totaled his car. He's lucky to be alive, let alone to have sustained mere scratches and bruises from the accident. He's 78. He's feeling fine today. I'm giving him my car tomorrow so that he can drive home because he's almost out of medecine. I'm not sure when I'll get the Subaru back but you can't send your ole dad driving 10 hours across the desert in your brother's 1993 Toyota Camry. Hello reality? Leave me alone. I hate you. I hope the Camry doesn't smell.

So today was surprisingly relaxing. Maybe because I am feeling pretty fucking great about taking the house in Tahoe from this:



to this:



Granted, it hasn't happened yet, but by god I'm going to make this thing work out if it kills me. I am not even going to think about the fact that work is going to suck giant donkey dicks tomorrow.

Saying giant donkey dicks makes me think of Kelly Hancock. And you know what? Kelly has MS. She also got addicted to drugs somewhere along the line and I wish none of that were true. I get news of Kelly from time to time through my friend Jill, since Kelly got angry with me years ago and cut me off. If you knew how often I pray for Kelly you might be surprised. It's about half as often as I pray for Kevin and that's a lot. Kelly became a part of me when I lived in Atlanta, and I'm sorry things didn't work out better for her. I still laugh over the way she turned a phrase, and I picture her when I'm trying to be gentle with someone that I don't understand. Poor Kelly, I miss her.

Lucky No. 13

No 13 -- David, age 37

I met David on Friday night at the Bigfoot Lodge. I had talked to him on the phone earlier and he said he has a beard because he got hurt in a couple of back-to-back accidents and he has been recovering. But he couldn't do anything physical for 4+ months so he had gotten to feeling like a sloth. So he grew the beard so that he wouldn't just feel like a sloth, he would look like a sloth too. He said it's his concept. I respect that. But I was afraid he'd be all puffy. But he wasn't. And he said the beard is negotiable. I like him. He got a literature degree from UC Berkeley and his family lives here in SF. He's Jewish. Tall. Dark hair and brown eyes. And here's the killer...he's an A&R guy who worked for a label and he signed the flaming fucking lips. Done. Deal. He said he's on my Fearless Freaks DVD which I would totally watch right now except that the new season of Project Runway is on and I'm otherwise occupied. We'll see how the next encounter goes. Friday.

Not A Way To Score Points

Conversation in the hallway outside the office of the chief marketing officer:

Me [to Tracy and woman who I think is Tracy's boss Christine but I'm not sure because she is much heavier and has blonde hair now]: Oh hey! hi you guys.

Tracy, Other: hey, wow haven't seen you in a while, what a cute outfit.

Me [with ruffles on skirt which are never my thing]: oh really? thanks...I'm trying out a new style. Oh, hey you know, I'm looking for a new position. Would appreciate it if you hear of anything...

Tracy: I know Diane M is looking for people

Me: oh, yeah, huh huh [nervous laugh] ... I sent her my resume a couple of weeks ago and just never heard back from her...tried to call her a couple of times...huh, huh...I used to work for her... ... Ha! Maybe THAT's why she never called. [Then turn and make "blowing a wish" action from my hand.]

This is when I truly laugh because I think that's honestly funny. Get it? She blew me off.

Tracy and Other: Yeah...well, people are crazy busy these days. It's been that way for like a year. [then they turn and speak in another language which is english but there are no nouns or verbs in proper order...they are talking about what happened in some meeting]

Me: ...

Tracy, Other: Oh well. Hope it works out for you!

Me: Right! Thanks.

The Voice Mail Hall of Fame

Got a message back this morning from the senior vice president, thanking me for my great voice mail. Great? Ah, the obsequious begging works. Testify.

I've been looking for a job for more than a month and sometimes it gets me down. It's different trying to get a job within the company where I've worked for seven years than it is trying to get a job with a new company. Witness: when someone in a new company doesn't call you back you can't take it personally. When someone you know in the company where you've worked for 7 years doesn't call you back -- you still can't take it personally. But it's really, really hard not to.

The Neighbor Has Obviously Been On Vacation

The shoes on the front landing disappeared for three weeks. I honestly thought it was because more than once the upstairs neighbors have observed me watering their nearly-dried-up plants after dark. In fact I have brought the plants back to health with my gardening at night. I thought that maybe the triad up there decided I am actually a nice person who doesn't deserve to have dirty shoes on her landing any longer. I thought maybe the Greg guy decided he was being an ass about his shoes and that he could just leave them inside. I was wrong. The shoes are back.

I forgot to mention another blah.com date

No. 12 -- Michael, age 39. Michael is a tall, dark and handsome Irishman from Tipperary. He was well-dressed in a casual sport jacket and he was so polite when I got there. He's been living in SF for 13 or 14 years, working as a carpenter. But he only finished 8th grade. He said that he grew up across from a school, but he had to tend to the cows and they were more important than his education. It's a damn shame, I like an intellectual. He was pretty cute.

The Critical Voice Mail

I just left a voice mail for a senior vice president, begging for a job. I am an obsequious brown-noser. Here's what I said...I think it has a nice ring to it, one that says please god could you just hire me already? I'll do anything.

Hi Kathy, it's [me]. I just want to leave you a quick voice mail to let you know I'm. very. interested in continuing the conversation with you on your communications position. I would really like to work with you and I feel privileged to be considered. I hope you have had a chance to gather some feedback from the folks we talked about -- Rob (my last boss) mentioned you guys exchanged voice mails and he told me he thinks we would do well together. I'm eager to prove to you that I'm a team player, I believe in listening to you closely and doing whatever it takes to make you successful, and I'm completely committed to my role in helping you and your team achieve the goals you've set out as an organization. I hope we'll have another chance to connect on this soon, Kathy. All the best to you. Bye bye.

Punk Rock

In order for me to date a guy he needs to be punk rock. I try to tell people (friends, family) what I'm looking for in a man, what I find attractive and it's that. It's an attitude. This explains why I don't find men at work attractive 99% of the time. They're not punk rock.

I work in a corporate la-la-landscape and I see stuff every day that is definitely not punk rock. Maybe it's because we are all almost 40 and most normal people have stopped believing in punk rock by this age, but I still believe in having a certain punk aura.

Here is what I know: if you're a guy, using a stairclimber is not punk rock. Don't even get on the thing. You are going to look like a sissy bouncing up and down on one of those things. There is just no way to look cool while you are bouncing like that. Mr. Sweating Man on the Stairclimber with the free company t-shirt, you are not punk rock.

The Parade Continues

No. 11 -- Paul, age 41

Paul's wife of 2.5 years left him unexpectedly for some other guy 9 months ago. In that time he has moved from the suburbs to the city, shaved his head, lost 25 pounds, and posted a profile on fastcupid.com. He's a decent guy and he deserves a girlfriend. It won't be me, though. I'm afraid I am not in the least bit attracted to him.