You didn�t think I forgot about you guys, did you?
Day Two of the �creative meeting� has come to a close, and as I gear up for the much-dreaded Day Three, I pause to take a look back and assess the events of the day, and the participants. And by �assess�, I really mean �disdain�. But I have a feeling you guys already figured that out, since you seem like pretty sharp cookies.
Now, over the past few months, you�ve seen me put forth a pretty dour appraisal of the Witches of Eastside (the various nicknames themselves being Exhibit A, I suppose), without ever having actually met them. I don�t think there�s anything wrong with this, per se, since it�s not like I�m basing my evaluation on anything as shallow as physical appearance. Er�yet (see below). But you can�t offer a comprehensive analysis of a person�s true character without ever having seen them in person! I mean, you can get a really good idea of who they are -- and I still stand behind everything I�ve said up to this point about all of them -- but until you�ve actually beheld their brain-cramping moronitude in person, you�re always going to be missing a crucial piece of the full portrait.
I now have the full portrait. And it�s kind of like Dorian Grey.
Circe, in my mind, always looked sleek and professional -- clad in those killer Heather Locklear-circa-Melrose Place suits and swiping long, perfectly polished nails through the air with deadly precision. Not that I derived that mental image of sexy self-assurance from her actual job performance -- I once (and rather astutely) called her a �one-woman army of saccharin artifice and cordial condemnation� (see here) -- but my imagination tends towards the glamorous and dramatic, if you haven�t noticed. That�s why I was rather disappointed to discover that she looks like nothing so much as that suburban PTA mother whom all the other moms resent because she thinks that she alone knows how to run the girls� soccer team�s bake sale, and so she totally just takes charge without being asked and starts telling everybody else what to do. Actually, not unlike Heather Locklear�s character might have done had Melrose Place been called�Melrose Middle School PTA.
Sally I once rather tidily denounced with the proclamation that she �couldn�t find her own ass with the aid of both hands, a compass, a Sherpa, two bloodhounds, a troop of boy scouts, a flare gun, a telescope, a team of forensic scientists, and Sacajawea leading the way� (from here), and was thusly rather dumbfounded to hear the company president describe her as �fierce�. Of course, he also said to me, �I love Dr. No because he�s always in such a great mood! Do you ever let anything get to you?� and Sophie laughed and laughed and laughed until she choked on her cheese platter, so what does that tell you about his powers of observation? Anyway, having finally met Sally, I�well, I don�t want to describe her as �bookish�, but I think there�s an elementary school librarian somewhere in the heart of midwesternest Iowa who�s missing an identical twin.
Anna I saved for last, because she�s the one who�s been tap-dancing on my last nerve lately. I think I best, and most aptly, captured Anna with the indictment, �[her] optimistically clueless demeanor belies the fact that underneath it lurks a hypocritical, back-stabbing, pedantic megalomaniac� (check this out), and I still don�t think I could do it any better than that. Although I can certainly try. Aside from not being quite as blonde as I pictured her (no offense, blondes), Anna fits my mental image quite well. Good job, Anna! (And that�s the last time you�ll ever hear me say that.) However, even after we listened to a lecture on the virtues of �teamwork� and �cooperation� (see, what did I tell you?), she still insisted on e-mailing me�FROM THE NEXT ROOM, rather than just poking her head into my office and telling me what she wanted. She also managed to find something �else� to do besides sit in my office and learn what it is I do all day, like she was supposed to, which is kind of fine, but also kind of exactly what�s going to perpetuate all the problems we�ve been having, which stem from the fact that neither coast seems to have the faintest clue what the other coast actually does all day.
In any case, Day Three looms before me like a pissed-off Gorilla, and I shudder to think what horrors I will have to endure.
But it�ll end in free drinks, so I think I�ll manage.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: JackNapped And: �BILLY JOEL� �LIST OF WORDS� I�m Watching: Last Sunday�s Alias. I�m Fostering: A deep, abiding hatred of all things Nick & Jessica.