Pope JP's now on feeding tube. Wonder if it's the same one they used on poor, politcally-abused Terri.
Media stories I'm not wanting to hear about, but will inevitably happen ...
* How long till her husband announces he's dating
* The autopsy results
* Momma and Papa Schiavo's book deal / talk show tour
The New Fetch
Blahever -- term of dismissal combining "blah blah blah" and "whatever."
Pass it on.
March 30, 2005
Adding Up to ADD
Time to call it a day, and as I get ready to shut down my computer, I see that I have, um, more than a few open windows.
45 Outlook and 10 Explorer windows ... that's not a bad thing, is it?
Nah, it's all relative. Especially compared to this.
Oy. I need a secretary.
March 29, 2005
You know you're back in London when you're on the phone and the person you're talking to says, without irony, "oh, blimey."
There really must be tryptophan in Turkey. Four nights in Istanbul and I'm back at work but feeling oh-so-sleepy.
I've seen mosques and minarets, ate kebabs, and drank raki. I have been exfoliated, and
pounded in a haman. Apparently Cemberlitas means slippery as shit. When it came my time to get off the big marble slab where I'd been sizzling like the a slice of bacon, I stepped off onto the floor, where my feet promptly slid out from underneath me on the wet marble. Much hamam hubbub ensued, with Turkish men yelling "shoes" at me. It seems the rubber sandals they give you aren't just for decoration, they can be life saving as well.
What's a good bath without a little bruising?
Undaunted, we cruised the Bosphourus with fellow tourists (Americans are the worst), danced with Turkish trannies (almost more plentiful as the mosques), and hung out with some new friends (New Yorkers, wouldn't you guess).
Now it's time for some Spring Cleaning. A little out with old. Perhaps a quiet little detox. Too much stress and too many colds during the past few months. I'm tired of feeling tired.
I'm going to find peaceful, zenlike, energetic balance in April if it kills me, goddammit.
March 25, 2005
Played Turkey tourist today, and rode a bus around the Old Town, trying to figure out just where in the heck we are.
Here's The Blue Mosque ...
and from the inside ....
All in all, a very good Friday indeed.
March 23, 2005
Will Work for Rub
The good thing about staying after everyone leaves the office is that I get a lot done 'cause there are no interruptions. The bad thing is that I usually end up staying till all hours when I have things due the next day, so I get home late ... all jazzed up ('cause we drink the Diet Coke when we stay late) and feeling pumped because I actually got work done ... and I have to be back there in less than 8 hours. Ugh.
If I only could learn to get that productive buzz on in the morning and get out at a decent hour ... on a regular basis.
Or at least if I'm gonna come home late and wound up, there should be a strapping young masseur to help, um, take the edge off.
March 19, 2005
There is Life Outside Your
Oh no, I'll be too busy working on Saturday to have any fun. Even if it is going to be the nicest day of the year.
Well, that was the plan.
Was just getting motivated to do my work this morning (late this morning) and decided, since I'd blown off Body Pump, "no, take some time for yourself, clear your mind, get some good London fresh air." So I put on some jogging togs, and got ready to go outside for a 30-minute walk/jog.
I asked Larry if he wanted to come with. He never comes with.
Fifteen minutes later we're walking down the street, "jogging" to the next streetlight (about 15 yards away). And then we walked. We chatted. We got a latte. We ended up down by the river and heading towards London Bridge, where someone had told him something about a market somewhere near there.
Four hours later, we're having a late lunch at the The Box and then buying Kinsey Sicks CDs at Dress Circle. An hour after that, we're in Soho and run into Rus and Moz, where pints are in order before they're off to see Kinsey. Coincidence?
A totally unexpected day. But then who would plan a 4-hour forced march across London?
You may have heard me say it before ... unplanned fun is always the best.
And now I'm ready for bed and it's not even 11pm on a Saturday night.
March 16, 2005
I'm in an emergency "crisis aversion" meeting with L., the lovely project manager I'm working with in one of the many twisted storylines on Brand This!
"We need to get a decision made on this," she tells me, "or we're scuppered."
I immediately turn to a blank page in my Black n' Red and scribble down my new vocab word. (She is the one who also taught me "in a pig's muddle.")
"Well, it's another way of saying we're fucked."
I had a feeling.
After being sidetracked a little by etymology (she had an inkling is was nautical , and we actioned that she would find out), we dealt with the crisis at bay and headed back to our respective desks.
After a bit, she sails over to my desk, looking as if she's parried all our project's predicaments. Even better ... she'd found that scuppered is indeed nautical. I'd tell you what it meant, but you'll remember better if you do the work yourself.
But wait, there's more ...
She also ran across the origin of "son of a gun" in her sleuthing. Seems that back in the 1800s, women of certain friendly nature would find themselves on naval vessels, and often would spend time with the sailors, seeking quiet respite on deck between the guns. As contraception was not as easy as grabbing a handful of Trojans from the jar at the local tavern, and these ladies didn't always practice monogamy ... sometimes little tykes came into the nautical world without an identifiable sire. The little
bastards sons of guns.
So ends a very special episode of Brand This!, where we not only got some work accomplished, but unexpectedly learned something.
And since Le Boss kept me here late, my gym plans are scuppered ... time for a pint.
Wonder if there are any sailors out there with big guns to seek respite under?
March 15, 2005
My niece was sitting on the living room floor the other day, playing some Pokemanish card game.
I haven't figured out this newfangled way to
waste pass the time, but isn't it all just glorified War? How exciting was a good double war? And every now and then you'd turn up matching cards for a TRIPLE WAR?!? And on that triple war, how your heart would sink into your stomach when you turned over a deuce. So.Very.Sad.
Anyway, she looked up at me and said, without irony, "Uncle Bobby, is it spring yet in your land?"
My land. She so makes me smile. And the reports that its going to be 60 degrees here in "my land" by the end of the week makes me smile as well.
March 13, 2005
Home Is Where the Tiara Is
"Welcome home," they said in Atlanta.
"How's it feel to be home?" I was asked in New York.
"So glad you're home," I heard in Cincinnati last night.
I think it's Sunday morning. I'm pretty sure I'm in Cincinnati. If memory serves, I've been in Atlanta and New York over the past few days, seen some old friends, attended a conference, caught up with family, and fallen further behind on deliverables for that job thing.
I have no idea where home is anymore, but I know my bed and clean clothes are in London. I'll be back there tomorrow. Yay.
I'd make a list of things to remember/write about/act upon from the past few days, but I can't find the coffee in my sister's house, so the list will have to wait. I had a couple good revelations though, and one life-changing experience ... (Dirty Rotten Scoundrels' dog-in-the-luggage gag).
Played Pretty Pretty Princeless last night with people in the age range it was actually designed for. My niece (just turned 8) threw the black ring at me in disgust when I took it from her (diva much?) and my 6-year old nephew won. Apparently he wins often at this game ... and loves the earrings.
A suprise birthday party for my aunt this afternoon (I'm surprised she's only 60) and then baack to the glamorous glory that is airline travel.
March 7, 2005
Back to Barrage
ATTENTION NEW YORKERS
It's been said you can't go home again, but you certainly can return to the scene of the crime. Bevvies at Barrage on Thursday night. I have an early morning on Friday, so it won't be a late one.
How many times have we heard that?
Ever wonder what happened to the actor who played Corky on TV's Life Goes On? Me neither.
But I do believe he just might be doing crack and hanging out at The Vauxhall Tavern on Sundays, hitting on gentlemen of a certain age. And it's so pretty when hitting on becomes making out with, and the gentleman of a certain age is one's houseguest.
After some dancing, Larry decided it was time to go ... we saw Corky, but no houseguest. "Come on, he's got keys and the address."
So we left the boys to play, south of the river and came home to a gourmet Kraft Dinner. This week's houseguest brought a half-dozen boxes, so we'll forgive him the crack whore. Maybe.
The door to the guest room is closed. I'm kinda scared that Corky might be in my house. Should I take in a pot of tea and ask what it was like to work with Miss Lu Pone?
March 4, 2005
Things That Make You Go Blah
This looks like it's going to become a reality for Gypsy and Cab, with makes me cry. They say it's a kennel, but it looks like Meowschwitz to me. Anybody in the States want to cat sit for a few more months? They're really good critters, but our pal who has them has decided he's just not a cat person. Blah. *sniff*
There's a big "Back the Bid" campaign here in London for the 2012 Olympics. I was all excited about it till I realized I'm going to be 50 that year. Blah.
Fifty. Oh.My.Blahing.God. I know it's a long way off, but still ... if 5 major cities plus an Olympic committee, plus kajillions of athletes are planning for something 7 years away, I don't think it's too early to start
I feel so fucking old. And tired. And unenthused. And blah.
We had a proper snowfall here today. Perhaps I've just got a dose of SAD. Blah.
Sky News has a Michael Jackson impersonator "reconstructing" the trial. Feh.
I'm going to have to work most of the weekend. Blah de fucking blah.
Aren't you all sick of me yet? I'm kinda sick of myself.
(note: I don't know why this poll became unavailable .. and I can't seem to get back into pollhost to fix it, so sorry. Last time I checked, the majority of you suggested cocktails, and nobody advised me to shoot myself, so thanks for that)
Blah blah blah.
March 1, 2005
Where Do We Stick It?
Today on Brand This!:
Got this gem in an email today talking about how to define success in a launch we're doing:
Regional penetration. What sounds like invasive pornography could actually be a measure of how widespread implementation of the design guidelines are ...
I love it when people make me laugh at work. It's so rare.