And I'm not interested in finding them.

I lost two pounds!!

:)

That's it...

...I'm going on the South Beach Diet.

STARTING NOW!!!

I'm gonna have a B.F.*

I'm so frickin' pissed. Mostly at my boss. Actually, 100% at my boss.

K, first things first. My boss - we'll call him "Boss"- does not give a shit about his company. Point blank. And this is proven by his non-presence at the office, his inability to pay his employees on time and his general ambivalence towards all things company-related.

For example, if you know me, or even if you've read my previous blog, you know I'm kinda on the poor side. Yeah. So yesterday I was asked to go to the post office to overnight a check to cover Boss's ass. I was given the "company" credit card and headed over there in pre-monsoon-type conditions.

Of course, since my name isn't on the card, the post office wouldn't take it, so I ponied up my own Discover Card to pay the $16.25 to overnight the damn thing. Boss would still be at the office when I returned, so I figured I could have him cut me an expense check before he left. Right?

Nuh uh. Upon my return to the office in minutes-before-monsoon-hits-type conditions, I poke my head into Boss's office and tell him the situation, ask if he can cut me a check that day - to which he replies "Yes." - then go back to my work.

Fast-forward to 7:00 p.m. My work is done and I knock on Boss's door to "say goodbye" (AKA: get my money), but he's on the phone and gives me the "just-one-minute"-index-finger sign. OK fine, I can wait a minute. I had left the door open a crack just so I could hear when his phone conversation ended - not so could eavesdrop, because really, I don't care.

Ten minutes later, I heard Boss stand up and go over and slam the door, still on the phone. Fuck it, I thought. This could take hours, knowing him, and I'm not waiting around. How rude is that, though? You tell someone you're going to do something before they leave work, and you just flat out don't do it? Fucking do it while I'm standing there so you don't forget, asshole! Especially when money's involved and I'm already livin' la vida broka.

So that sucked.

And then I get an e-mail from Boss this morning saying that a lunch meeting I had been coordinating with another company was a good idea, but that there was no need to "shut down the office" so everyone here can go. That "one, possibly two" people max should go have have a "clear plan outlined" for the meeting. That with sales the way they are there's no way we all should be out having a meeting with a client.

Ugh! There are sooo many things wrong with that e-mail:

1) It was a casual lunch meeting offered by our client as more of a meet-and-greet, not a hard-sell meeting.

2) It's fucking summer! Cut us some slack and let us go out to lunch with some people!

3) Sales aren't going to be remedied in one afternoon, so might as well just go to lunch.

4) Nothing is going to be remedied until Boss steps up to the plate and starts taking responsiblity for and ownership of the company he owns and making a contribution instead of bitching and moaning when things don't go the way he wants them to - which , BTW, changes every fucking day.

And once again, monsoon-like conditions.




*Bitch Fit. God, haven't you seen "White Chicks?"

You're going to start seeing a lot more of me.

After cashing in a jar of change to buy groceries the other day, it dawned on me - maybe I go out too much. I mean, I think I go out just as much as anyone else, but my meager salary really doesn't support my lifestyle, so as a result I think I'm going to have to start focusing on doing other things besides going out all the time. I don't want to have to file for bankruptcy and ruin my damn-near-perfect credit score ;)

So I've decided to start blogging more. And maybe letting others read my blog? I don't know, just for shits and giggles, I guess. Blogging is a good exercise for a writerly person such as myself. Plus, if I go at it great guns and full speed ahead, who knows? Maybe my blog will become famous like Perez Hilton or something. Ah, I doubt it. I would want it to gain popularity of it's own momentum and not because I stalk and obsess over lame celebs.

BUT SPEAKING OF LAME CELEBS (and Perez Hilton) - I really feel I must comment on the whole Paris Hilton-goes-to-jail fiasco of recent weeks. Let me begin by offering a personal anecdote (and, as always, stop me if you've heard this one):

When I was but a wee lass o' th' age o' 17, I got arrested for reckless endangerment, disturbing the peace and resisting arrest. I was with two friends, we were all sober, but we just decided to make a really bad decision in a car full of illegal stuff, and the next thing we knew, lights, sirens, handcuffs (but not in a good way) - the whole nine yards. To make a long story short, our parents bailed us out, we all went to court, paid the necessary fines and were on our way. Case closed. On with our lives.

THEN FUCKING PARIS HILTON COMES ALONG, WITH HER CELEBUTANTE STATUS AND HER MONEY AND HER NO-JOB-HAVIN', AND GETS A DUI WHILE ON PROBATION FROM ANOTHER DUI, AND HER CELEBRITY-NESS FUCKING SKYROCKETS AND EVERYBODY'S ALL "WAH WAH PARIS WE LOVE YOU IT'S SO UNFAIR" AND JOURNALISTS ARE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS THE FIRST INTERVIEW. AND MY QUESTION IS, "WHY?!"

What kind of country rewards people for breaking the law - then breaking it again - with so many opportunities for Paris to make even more money than she's already making just by being a Hilton? When I got arrested, I felt horrible for my actions, suffered the consequences, and nobody gave a shit. This bitch's story gets posted all over the news and magazines and it's like a fucking national phenomenon that Paris Hilton could possibly do something so outrageous to warrant jail time. Hi. How does the ad go - 'You drink. You drive. You lose.' Hmm, yeah. Guess Paris must have whizzed past that billboard in her drunken stupor.

Anyway, I just had to get that off my chest. That whole incident really made me lose faith in this country (more faith, I should say). Actually, in my own drunken stupor one night (I took a cab), I was even pondering moving to Toronto. Well, I've pondered that whilst sober many a time, but not because I was fed up with this country. This time, I'm fed up with this country.

Oh, and P.S.~this isn't a jealousy thing or anything like that. I'm so much better off than Paris Hilton. I learned my lesson when I was 17, not 26. I work for a living and I don't act like a retard just because I can (OK that last part isn't entirely true - hee hee!).

Plus, I'm prettier than she is. Brunettes just naturally are ;)