I�don�t even know where to begin. It�s been a crazy, and busy, couple of weeks, y�all. Ulrich is officially all moved into the apartment, and my brain is all but officially moved out of my head. Not because of that � cohabitation has thus far proven to be immensely enjoyable, even despite the fact that he gets up at the absolutely ungodly hour of SIX A.M. � but because, like, well, I mean, read on.
To begin with, the electric company has decided to fuck me sideways and I�m supposed to just like it. I was on the phone with some spiteful hobgoblin over at Evil Electric, LLC the other day, requesting that the name on the account be switched from May Day�s to mine. This, she hissed at me, would require a �deposit� of $75. I wanted to know why, and in this passive-aggressive tone she smarmed, �If she has poor credit, you don�t want that associated with your name, do you? No, I don�t think so.� I wanted to crawl through the phone line and put laxatives in her coffee. Anyway, I HATE passive-aggressive people, but I ended up being passive-aggressive right back because I was already on edge, and I hadn�t DONE anything to her to warrant being treated that way, and there she is putting the �ho� in �phone�, and what goes around comes around, and I�m STILL out $75, so she wins in the end anyway and she can deal with my being rude, and you just shut UP about �sour grapes�!
Cut to: Yesterday, when I am on my way to work and my iPod totally takes a shit. IN THE MIDDLE OF A SONG. So it won�t work, at all, no dice. I hit buttons, nothing. I unplug it, nothing. I shake it around, nothing. So, great � now I have to take it in to the Apple store to see if they can fix it, and if they can�t fix it, I have to get it replaced, and it should still be under warranty, but fuck ME if I can FIND the warranty, because I have NO idea where I put all that stuff when I got back from Christmas! Just when I�m thinking about how indignant I�m going to get when I ask them to track the product�s serial number and they claim they don�t have that capability and blah blah blah, because that�s what they do, I discover that when I plug it into my computer, it, erm, comes back to life. So I dodged a bullet with that one.
For the past few days, I�ve gotten these cryptic messages/texts from Pussy Galore, saying that she really, really needs to speak to me. I called her back on Sunday (while I was recuperating from a really bad bout of Too Much Champagne) and she told me�she couldn�t talk. She said she�d call on Monday, and then didn�t. Then she called me three times in a row last night, but I missed the calls, and I didn�t realize it until it was after 1am her time. So she called me back this morning, and? She�s getting married. Married. NEXT FRIDAY. Surprise! What? I can�t say it�s a complete shock � the act of getting married � because they�d been hinting at it for a long time, but the whole sort of, �oh, by the way, I hope you�re available next Friday afternoon, because I really want you to be on the phone when we exchange our vows� thing was sort of, you know, unexpected. This will officially make her the first of my current circle of friends to tie the knot, just beating out Heather by a narrow two weeks. I�m still shocked.
And I was still reeling when I walked over to the desk of my supervising producer�s assistant to hand over some copies of the show�s final edit, as it is to be my last day and I need to unload, and found her talking to this guy whose desk had recently been moved into that area of the building. He was rather attractive, and they engaged me in their conversation for a bit, and ALL OF A SUDDEN, I REALIZED I KNEW HIM. Guess who it was. No, guess. No, not him. Not him, either. Never mind, you�ll never get it; it was a certain jackass I dated for about two weeks before he dumped me and left profound wounds on my dignity. I realize that this really isn�t such a big deal, but like, he didn�t even recognize me, y�all. And I look a lot better now than I did then, and I�m HAPPY. And he needs to know that I�m HAPPY again, and that HE MISSED OUT. Maybe I�ll pop over there again and ask for my fucking book back.
Oh, and to tie things all together? Today isn�t going to be my last day after all. They want me to stick around for another week. Busy, busy, busy.
Your Trivia Factoid For The Day: There are only thirteen blimps in the world. I�m Watching: 24, and like, sigh. Come on, writers�we were doing so well until this latest �It�s Audrey! No, it isn�t.� stunt. And: Passions, and my heart belongs to Paloma.