Monday, February 24, 2003

Monday Meltdown

Psycho coworker who was out all last week is in today. She hasn’t said a word to me. I think she knows how pissed I am.

Came into work to find nasty email from supervisor who said that I don’t focus enough on the accuracy of my work and hopes its just because I was running around like a lunatic the past week when psycho coworker was out and I was doing her job on top of the other two I already agreed to do.

How long can it take the New York Philharmonic to practice two pieces for the Grammys? A lot longer than you think.

So the verdict is in on the Michael Kanteres transsexual custody issue. The judge sided with Margo/Michael (aka the transsexual) and awarded him custody. The wife, the judge said, is to blame for a lot of shit. Talk about major precedent.

I learned this weekend that Gary Coleman is a virgin. Now that is something I did not need to know. I also learned that porn star Ron Jeremy is a lot smarter than he looks.

I was talking with a friend this weekend about the situation with me and California. Her take on it – I could have a lot of “Goodbye” sex. God, I love her for saying that.

Norah Jones. I adore her. Love her album. Sad to see Bruce Springsteen shafted for Album of the Year but I think we all knew Norah was getting it.

How spooky is it that the guy who as with Michael Kamen (my person I was working with at the Grammys) started singing “San Francisco” as we were heading to the elevator?

Is it just me or has Bruce Jenner either really not aged well or had a botched face lift done or something equally heinous?

And on the flip side of that, is it just me or as Melissa Rivers had plastic surgery done to look more like her mother, the Tupperware dish?

The really, really guy on the team (not the better looking half of the Wonder Twink Duo), the one that practically any of us would do in a heart beat, actually said that he didn’t recognize me at one of our team gym workouts because I had slimmed down so much. Hey, at least he noticed.

Can ABC milk this Bachelor/Bachelorette cash cow anymore? First there was the Aaron and Helene Tell All special and now the Trista and Ryan look back on their relationship from start to finish special. The horse is on the ground. It’s dead. Why are we beating it?

Trying to find a place to hold this bachelor auction (ideally a bar) is about as easy as me having sex with a woman.

I’m starting to believe more and more in serendipity.
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