At risk of getting fired, I've decided to test the corporate waters by wearing a shirt to work today that says, "Rock out with your cock out." (Shirt courtesy of my girl, Ivy Supersonic.). Oh to be me. Self-entertainment is truly priceless when your job is that boring.
My Red Shoes
Some girl stopped me on the street today and gave me mad props on my red shoes. I clearly deserved it. They are hot and look great with my cock shirt (which is a lot cuter than that thing above).
Interns, Bladder Problems and Fake Medicines
The office is sprawling with interns. One of whom sits right by the door and watches me as I go to the bathroom 16 times per hour. Seriously, my bladder is the size of a pea. Now I have to make some stupid little joke to the effect of "I got cursed with my grandma's bladder," which probably freaks this chick out more than soothes her curiosity. I never had this problem before because everyone else is hidden in their little cubes. I could slip in and out as I pleased.
Oh, and on the subject of my bladder, I scream at the TV when I see the commercials that ask women, "Do you have to go to the bathroom more than 8 times a day? If so, you might have a problem." As if that's a problem. I drink a pot of coffee and a gallon of water a day. Don't you think it would be weird if I didn't go to the bathroom at least 8 times a day. Weird fake medicines that cater to fake "conditions" are one of the many things on my growing list of things to get annoyed about when I'm bored: "Do you feel dirty when you don't take a shower? Well then, you probably have such and such disorder and need this product."
And, in a pretty non-related way, all of this brings me back to the interns. There are 4 of them and each one was scribbling just a bit too furiously during our new-client brainstorming session this morning. And they all stare. And they are all way too easily impressed. And they all giggle when one of the full-timers makes a bad joke. I sware I was never like this when I was an intern. Promise. No lie. Never did it.
The Gay Guy in the Office Likes Me
Lest you hadn't heard, a girl is officially "in" when gay guys like her. This recognitions means a number of things: You are sassy. You dress well (cock shirt? red shoes?). You don't take shit. You talk back to people who do. You have a serious attitude problem. Women who are famous for being liked by gay guys are Cher and Madonna. Somehow Kelly Clarkson and Paris Hilton recently slipped through the cracks as well. I guess Paris makes sense, but Kelly Clarkson is definitely a random member of the club. I think that it has to be some kind of strategic publicity stunt, like her agency had some gay guy declare that he likes her while in a highly visible area. It could happen, you know?
Anyway, my gay guy declared today that, "I wish I sat next to GiGi." Unfortunately I don't remember what obscene comment I made that impressed him so much because I make quite a few. All I know is that I'm in. Once you're in, you're pretty much golden for life. Cher can do no wrong. Madonna can do no wrong. And now, GiGi can do no wrong.
Getting My Deposit Back
I'm supposed to meet the girl who's moving into my old room at my old place (sucker!) tonight to get my deposit check. Only thing is, that involves seeing the old roommate. I'm subtly telling her that I just want to come to her office over lunch to grab the check and give her my keys, but she keeps on throwing in curveballs that involve me having to go to the old apartment. I wish I could just say, "Hello! I don't want to see the diablo you're moving in with," but my sales pitch on him was so positive that I can't do that. I mean, you should have seen me in action. After that performance I could've won an Oscar. As my sister would say, "Girl, you could sell dick to a dyke."
I probably could.
Anyway, this day is only half way over. I'm sure I'll run into plenty more thrillers and chillers as the day goes on. Woohoo. Exciting.....