4:23 p.m. - 2005-04-12
Usually, I Pride Myself on Titles. Not Today, Children.
One day, I will once again have a job which allows me to surf the net, update every day, and leave all of you comments. In the meantime, I'm still temping, and checking your e-mail is a fucking production. I still love everyone. I swear I will get caught back up. I further declare that I will update more than once a week. It's just that I've been (a) working (b) depressed (c) hung over (d) tired and (e) lazy.
Anyway, seeing as how I have been a slacker on the updateage, I have a lot to say. We shall divide this entry into three parts. Part 1 will feature Friday night's festivities. Part 2 will address my general malaise on Saturday. Part 3 will concern the wonderful world of employment. Therefore, without further ado:
Part the First
Friday night was BFRB2's birthday party. It was at a bar in Norman called The Mont. The Mont is famous for the "Swirl"...a frozen confection of Sangria and Margarita. It looks a little something like this:
Needless to say, a variety of drinks were had by all.
And "all" was a lot of people. See?
BFRB went with me, so here is our obligatory slightly buzzed photo:
Something cool happened, besides just getting to hang out with my girlz. I ran into my college drinking buddy/good friend AC, his sister, his wife, and their little girl. It was really good to see them again...it's been forever. Here he is. Clearly, the munchkin is so in charge.
However, there's only so long you can sit in the TupperChairs on the patio before your ass is numb and you're tired of stupid Swirls. BFRB2 started plotting some further adventures.
Said further adventures landed us at Norman's version of an actual club. See, Norman is a pretty small town. The college crowd pretty much sticks to the sports-bar type activities, or the bar near campus that has $1 beer. The only real "club" is this dive-ass hole where they play mostly crappy music and where nasty old men try to hit on you. Therefore, most Norman folks get their party on in OKC.
However, they opened this new bar. First of all, it's in Norman, which is an immediate strike against it. There's just not enough of a crowd. Second of all, it shares this giant building with a FITNESS CENTER. And finally, their music selection in the dance club makes its name oh-so-appropriate:
However, my little BFRB2 was determined to bust a move...and of course, she found the only cute guy in the bar to do it with.
It all went downhill from there. The DJ starts with the stupid-ass country music because "someone requested it." Well, tell them you ain't got none of that. Worse yet, some people were DANCING to this shit. Two-stepping. Two chicks. Guys, this was not some hot lesbian action. There is nothing "hot" about two-stepping.
Where there is country music, there are cowboys. This little cowboy was a moron. Notice he is not wearing his hat. He left his hat completely unattended.
The hat was looking a little lonely, so BFRB2 suggested (okay, dared) BFRB should go get it. She looked much nicer in it than he did.
Even BFRB2's mittle kitty was not left out of the birthday fun. She got some ribbons to play with.
Part the Second
For the record, I should state that I was the designated driver on Friday, so I quit drinking early, and was pretty much stone cold sober when we got home.
I had agreed to work on Saturday, being that I am poor. When I got off work, I of course IM'd BFRB. She said that she and Vix were going to this garage sale at a local bar where some bands would be playing. I wasn't in a happy mood at all. I don't really know why, but I was just feeling kind of down. BFRB said that Vix was picking her up, but I could follow them. (Vix's car, while way cool, is only a two-seater.) I had a third-grade moment and wanted us all to ride together so I wouldn't feel left out. Vix wanted to drive, though, because her car has been fucked up for a while and it was newly fixed. I agreed to follow them.
We get there, find some really cool bargains, and listen to some bands. Which I hated. I tried to like it, really I did, but that noisy hard-rock-thrash-glam-whatever-the-fuck was doing nothing for me. Plus, I was in a bad mood anyway, it was boiling ass hot in the bar, and I really wanted to just go home and cry. I had my car, so I suppose I could have, but they wanted me to stay.
Finally, we leave, we go eat some yummy cheeseburgers, and I'm starting to feel a little more human and not like a whiny little bitch. We decide to go to this cool thrift store.
The universe did not want me to have a happy day on Saturday at all.
We're still in two cars. They find a parking place. There was kind of one next to it, but there was also a big utility pole, and my car couldn't make it around that and into this spot. So I drive around the block. Across the street is a furniture store with SHITLOADS of completely empty parking spaces. I park. Barely had I shut my car door when this ASSHOLE security guard informs me that I can't park there because it's against Bruno's (the name of the store, don't ever shop there, as they are complete ass-ramming donkey fuckers) policy.
Keep in mind, at this point, I have BARELY EXITED MY VEHICLE and there were like FOUR CARS in this lot. The fucknut had no way of knowing where I was planning to shop. I drive a nice car. I was most pissed. I made my opinions known, and then proceeded to drive around some more until I found another spot.
By this time, I'm a basket case. I'm in tears. I felt left out anyway because I wasn't having fun at the planned activity, I wanted to take one car in the first place, blah blah blah. I go in, shop for a while, find a hat I really like, it's expensive, I'm broke, more depression (but the store was really cool...and they had store KITTIES.)
I hate it when I get like that. There was no rational reason for me to feel any of those things, but I did. I love my girls, I usually have fun going out with them even if the bands do suck, and I totally understand about wanting to drive your car when it's been screwed up for a while. But the depression part of my brain has the emotional maturity of an 8-year-old, and no matter how much I know I'm being a complete retard, my body tells me I need to cry.
Yes, I'm on Prozac. And this is why. Without it, I'm like that all the freaking time, not just occasionally.
Saturday night, I went and got my toes painted and bought makeup. It did make me feel better.
Part the Third
Well, I didn't take that job. I just couldn't. No matter how much my mind said "But Loopy, you are screwed after this temp job ends; Loopy, you were bored out of your skull; Loopy, what if you don't get another offer," my gut was telling me to run screaming in the other direction.
Small law firms suck to work for. You end up wasting most of your time on secretarial bullshit. The salary sucks, and forget raises. The benefits aren't great. And worst of all, there's no one to cover when you're gone, so you feel like sick days and vacations longer than a three day weekend are out of the question.
I cannot deal with that any more. I learned a lot working for smaller firms, but there is nothing more for me to learn except how completely miserable I can be for a paycheck.
I'm still thinking, though, that the current temp job is going to be all overtime-y and shit.
Wrong again, suckah.
We got off at 2:30 today....because there was nothing to do. And there won't BE anything to do until Thursday.
See, this local copy/imaging service is scanning many millions of documents into an online "data room" for viewing later. We have to review the documents to see what is attorney-client privileged.
Well, said copy service, as all of the local paralegals know, FUCKS SHIT UP. This project is no exception. The stuff we were reviewing was jacked. And they apparently cannot figure out how to upload the rest of the documents they have scanned.
Of course, this means that, when this shit DOES get uploaded finally, we're going to have to work 24-7 to get it done on time. I guess then the overtime will kick in. Assuming, of course, that the problems are fixed soon.
I think that's my life, except that I've been a slacker and haven't been to the gym in two weeks. I'm going tonight. And tomorrow, since I don't have to work. I don't know why my motivation has disappeared, but I must regain it. This is stupid. My mind knows this. Now I have to convince my body....
Sigh.
