Taking a Trip Down ADD/ADHD Lane

First and foremost— Wolfen: 2 severed thumbs up.



Do yourself a favor and Netflix it before Halloween. Plus! It has an unbelievable ratio of male to female full-frontal nudity. Specifically, a shit ton to none. So, I'm sorry and/or you're welcome. Mostly, you're welcome.

In other news, I started writing a blog post this morning at approximately 9:15 about some..."Unpleasantness," shall we say, that occurred last week at hot yoga when I got distracted by a stack of improperly folded pamphlets sitting on my desk. Boss #2 let me leave a little early last Friday as long as I printed 50 sales pamphlets and folded them before I left. Obviously wanting to get the fuck up out of here as soon as humanly possible, I folded them a bit haphazardly. In the harsh light of Monday morning, however, I found my sloppy level of folding to be completely unacceptable. I decided I couldn't concentrate on blogging until I printed 50 new pamphlets and folded them properly. Mid re-folding, I remembered a dream I had last night in which Allison (of looks like Boss #1 minus 20 years fame) made a hee-larious cameo. I decided I couldn't concentrate on my re-folding duties until I emailed Allison about my dream. Three minutes later, I abandoned that email to Wikipedia Hall & Oates. Why? I don't really know. I've had "Private Eyes" stuck in my head all morning and it just felt like the right thing to do. This obviously led to a long string of Wikipedia article hopping and two hours later, I realized I have a stack of 50 unfolded pamphlets, a half-written email and no blog post to show for my morning. (But an impressive new knowledge of Hall & Oates!)

This gots me a-thinkin'...I genuinely think I have ADD and/or it's hyper-active cousin ADHD. And truthfully, I've always thought this. I remember confronting my mom in high school that I thought I had ADD and she was like, "Well. If you're that concerned, just go get tested" and I was all, "FINE! MAYBE I WILL!" and then got distracted by the crinkling noise of a plastic bag and never did anything about it. Ever. So here we are, six years later, and I'm still undiagnosed. But! This morning I took a break from Wikipedia-hopping and found an online Adult ADHD Screening Quiz! I enjoyed taking this quiz because it felt like a "Remember When..." flashback episode of a sitcom. Almost every question reminded me of a blog post. Check it out:

1. Do you have a sense of underachievement, of not meeting your goals, regardless of how much you have actually accomplished?

[I mean, my sense of underachievement is sort of the cornerstone of this entire blog. Just insert any given blog post here.]

2. I find it difficult to read written material unless it is very interesting or very easy.

[I swear to god, I couldn't even get through reading the intro of this test. I made it to "This is a screening examination for adult ADD. It is not a diagnostic test. Scores over 70 are associated with..." gave up and proceeded directly to the test.]

3. Especially in groups, I find it hard to stay focused on what is being said in conversations.

"Even when I'm out with friends, I find myself zoning out and quietly getting worked up thinking about this shit to the point of randomly exploding with, "I'M GONNA DIE ALONE IN AN OFFICE CHAIR AND THE MOST MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIP I HAVE IS WITH THE FEDEX GUY AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW HIS NAME!!!!!" Which usually has nothing to do with the conversation going on around me. So that's awkward."

— "Best. Idea. Ever?" 5/28/09

4. I have a quick temper...a short fuse.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD. I FUCKING HATE THE INTERNET AND I HATE MY COMPUTER AND I HATE BOSS #2 AND THERE'S A PINCHED NERVE IN MY NECK THAT I JUST EXACERBATED WITH ALL OF THE CRAWLING AROUND ON MY HANDS AND KNEES I JUST DID TO REPEATEDLY PLUG AND UNPLUG MY COMPUTER 5,000 TIMES TO TRY TO FIX THIS WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT 1991 DELL COMPUTER THAT I'VE BEEN GRACED WITH AND TECH PEOPLE ARE THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE SECOND ONLY TO BOSS #2 AND HERE'S YOUR GOD DAMN DRINKING GAME. FINALLY. SIX FUCKING HOURS LATER. AND YES I DID FORGET TO TAKE MY MEDS THIS MORNING, AS I HAVE FOR THE PAST THREE DAYS AND YES RAGE IS A SIDE EFFECT OF WITHDRAWAL, AND YES THIS DOES EXPLAIN WHY I'M OVERREACTING AND TYPING IN CAPS BUT WHATEVS. OK? GOOD. LET'S MOVE ON. HERE. DRINK."

— "Drinking Game Friday Remembers John Hughes" 8/07/2009

6. I say things without thinking, and later regret having said them.

"I awkwardly outed Andrew to our entire comm class today. We were sitting in class at the conference table and Andrew informed everyone that the British Navy is apparently trying to recruit gay men. So I slapped Andrew on the back and said, "HAHA! Looks like you're going to sea Andrew!" He was not thrilled."

— "An Anotated Anthology of Award" 1/08/2009

7. I make quick decisions without thinking enough about their possible bad results.

"And then I smoked a blunt with my newfound thugalicious friends. Soon my friends caught up and we boarded our subway home. It turns out that copious amounts of various alcohols, found drugs, and a rocking subway car do not make for a good time. It was at Smith and 9th street that I calmly exited the train and threw up in a well-placed trashcan. Thank you MTA."

— "Hit Me Baby, One More Time" 12/13/2007

8. My relationships with people are made difficult by my tendency to talk first and think later.

"Well I'll make sure to wipe my mouth as I walk out."

That was my response. And WHAT. THE. FUCK?!

Why!?!?! Of all the things I could have said, WHY did I have to go with that?! I turned our innocent little game of office flirting into a hardcore pornographic awkward-fest. The second the words flew out of my mouth, I looked horrified. Disgusted and horrified. With my own actions. I couldn't believe I had just said that. I still can't believe I said that. I wonder if that's grounds for a sexual harassment suit. I'm going to be the first woman in history to have a construction worker sue her for sexual harassment."

— "Let's give 'em something to talk about..." 9/10/2009

9. My moods have highs and lows.

"Goin' through some shit. No post today. Turtle Rapes Shoe time."

— "That time I was too coked out to post" 9/28/2009

vs.

"Guess who's in an oddly good mood this morning? THIS GIRL! Why? BECAUSE IT'S OFFICIALLY PRE-HALLOWEEN SEASON! And we all know that Halloween is my FAVORITE HOLIDAY EVER!!!!1"

— "Check out the yabos on Drinking Game Friday..." 10/16/2009

10. I have trouble planning in what order to do a series of tasks or activities.

"This obviously led to a long string of Wikipedia article hopping and two hours later, I realized I have a stack of 50 unfolded pamphlets, a half-written email and no blog post to show for my morning. (But an impressive new knowledge of Hall & Oates!)"

— "Taking a Trip Down ADD/ADHD Lane" 10/19/2009

11. I easily become upset.

"I also had no idea I felt so passionately about Jon Heder. After my co-worker asked what's wrong I sort of just made inaudible moaning noises for a while before getting out, 'JON HEDER DIED IN A DRUNK DRIVING ACCIDENT! I THOUGHT HE WAS A MORMON!'"

— "Not so newsworthy BBC Wednesdays?" 10/15/2008

12. I seem to be thin skinned and many things upset me.

JKreids: Um Meg, you're starting to sound like a MEEK...
2birds1blog: You shut your whorish mouth. My love of Buffy is hip and ironic and I vowed to stop being mean to my co-workers. And I'm attractive. And I get regular haircuts.

— 10/16/09's Comment Board

13. I almost always am on the go.

[HAHAHAHAHA!...God no.]

"My office is located equidistant between a Caribou Coffee and a Starbucks, both being about two blocks away. I realize that doesn't sound like that far, but when you're right in the middle of a crucial episode of Dynasty and you're kind of sleepy and it's anyone's guess who stole Crystal's baby, it might as well be a mile away. Normally when I get "coffee lazy," I just complain to a few people via gchat, feel sorry for myself for a little bit and then work up the adrenaline needed to get up and walk the two blocks to Starbucks. And then everything's fine. Yesterday, however, was a horse of a different color."

— "The Craigslist Coffee Challenge" 7/30/2009

14. I am more comfortable when moving than when sitting still.

[Ok, so maybe "hyperactive" doesn't quite describe me...]

"And I will gladly be the fat kid who says out loud that I would rather move out of this city than have to wheeze my way up and down stopped metro stairs day in and day out just because Kriston Capps think it would make the city healthier. Because who are you, Mr. Capps, to decide how to make people healthier? You're like that office manager who only stocks the fridge with water because soda rots your teeth and wastes calories. I'm a grown-ass woman. Let me make my own health choices. If you health-rape me, I will blow my whistle."

— "First Ever Smug Pug Award!" 9/01/009

15. In conversations, I start to answer questions before the questions have been fully asked.

[Why did I have to read that question like 20 times for it to make sense?]

16. I usually work on more than one project at a time, and fail to finish many of them.

See: Drunken Monument Ghost Tour
See: Badminton League
See: J-Date Debate
See: I Need An Old Priest and a Young Priest: Psychic Healing in our Nation's Capitol
See: 50,000 people I've promised stickers to in the past month

17. There is a lot of "static" or "chatter" in my head.

"You know how certain people with Autism are “Idiot Savants” and are somewhat inept but can do one thing really well, a la Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man? What if there was an Idiot Savant who excelled in having sex? Like, he was just dynamite in the sack. Could that ever happen? Only Helena has ever been receptively helpful to this honest-to-God question I have. Everyone else struggles to get beyond how inappropriate and slightly offensive it is to realize that once you think about it, it’s sort of perplexing…right?"

— Random Thoughts I Couldn't Flesh Out Into Full Entires 11/18/2008

18. Even when sitting quietly, I am usually moving my hands or feet.

"I went to hot yoga Tuesday night. And despite my burning hatred of physically moving my body, being hot and sweating—I loved it! I know, I was just as shocked as you!"

— "TALOL & Thoughts I Couldn't Flesh Out Into Full Entries" 9/24/2009

19. In group activities it is hard for me to wait my turn.

"I stood there defeated. I turned around to see a group of thugs staring back at me. “Some dumb bitch punched me and I was trying to catch her so I can beat her ass in!” I explained to the head hood. I was met with sympathetic “Shit girl”s. They turned out to be really cool people! They informed me I had a “runny mascara situation” where I had been hit and I sassily told them not to worry about it. Then one of the thugs looked at me and said, “So we gonna smoke this blunt or not?” to which I said, “Spark that shit up! Pass that shit to me!” to which he said, “SHIT GIRL, there’s an established circle, you new to the crew, wait yo turn!” to which I said “Well then hurry up and light that shit!”

— "Hit Me Baby, One More Time" 12/13/2007

20. My mind gets so cluttered that it is hard for it to function.

"I'm one of those people where if one aspect of my life is going downhill (i.e. work...in a big way) then everything else seems like it's going downhill too and I just sit here all day thinking about how everything is spiraling out of control and there's nothing I can do about it except turn off the lights, put on The Smith's Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want and dramatically writhe, writhe, writhe, check my email, writhe, writhe, change into comfy pants, writhe. You know. I'm That Guy."

— "I was Accidentally Racist: Asian Edition!" 10/6/2009

21. My thoughts bounce around as if my mind is a pinball machine.

"For example, the other night I was in an elevator with a guy and when he got off at his floor he turned around and said, "Have a great night." I'm never prepared for this. It's just so polite. I mean, we weren't talking and I don't know you. But that's really nice. So then my inner monologue starts dissecting this act of kindness: "Oh shit, is he talking to me? Of course he's talking to me, I'm the only person in the elevator. Wow, what a nice and awkward thing to do. Is he trying to get in my pants? Would I let him? Is he Lebanese or just really tan? Either way that's hot right? FUCK! SAY SOMETHING BACK!" And then I manage to make out a soft "Your too. I mean you. Night. Ha." just as the doors have closed. This happens to me more than you would expect. And I'm sufficiently awkward about it each time."

— "Inner Monologue Time!" 12/14/2008

22. My brain feels as if it is a television set with all the channels going at once.

"This morning in Gender in Society, we were discussing "The Glass Escalator" which is when men enter "women's fields" like teaching and get promoted quickly to administrative positions because they are men...patriarchy...matrix of domination...blah blah blah. Anyway, all I could think of was Mr. Feeny from "Boy Meets World" and how he was first their middle school teacher and then followed them to high school and finally was promoted to became a college professor. Mr. Feeny like owned the Glass Escalator. Then I couldn't stop thinking about how hot Eric Mathews was. And how comical Rider Strong's name is, and how odd it is that he's gay. Who knew?! Then I realized why I have an A in the class and a D in participation. So when I was walking to Art of the Renaissance, I was still thinking about my Mr. Feeny-Glass-Escalator-Theory and blatantly tripped and fell flat on my face in the quad, producing a giant cut on my leg, which was bleeding during class. So there I am, bleeding-out in the middle of class trying to take notes and maintain consciousness. Why is my life so awkward?"

— "An Annotated Anthology of Awkward" 1/08/2009

23. I am unable to stop daydreaming.

"I have a gym crush by the way. Tee hee ha ha hee hee hooo...He's a giant dreamy dream boat that I just want to sail away on. His name is Kyle. (In my mind. Clearly, I've never talked to him, nor do I have plans to ever talk to him. Because that would just be crazy.) Kyle is a veterinarian for sick and lonely pugs, owns his own row house on Capitol Hill and moonlights as a cage fighter. He's the best."

— "Drinking Game Friday Remembers John Hughes" 8/07/2009

24. I am distressed by the disorganized way my brain works.

"I pay a therapist $200 a session, two sessions a month, and 3/4 of our session is spent with me awkwardly looking around the office desperately trying to think of something to talk about. However get me in the back of a cab and I open up like I’ve just taken a truth serum. My life is just one incredibly un-sexy episode of "Taxi Cab Confessions." One time I was talking to a cabbie about his native Barbados and he told me that he thought I would like life there better than New York because it was laid-back, like me. I actually told him, and I quote, that I “indeed have the soul of an islander.” First of all, who the fuck says that? And secondly, just on a factual level, I actually don’t have the soul of an islander; I’m kind of neurotic and high-strung. I don’t know why I adopt this Jimmy Buffet, open-book persona with cabbies, but I appreciate our time together. It’s less expensive than therapy and pine-scented."

— "You. You reading this. You look amazing today." 12/08/2008

Final Score:


I KNEW IT. So I just print out this post, take it to CVS and get some Ritalin, right?

Check out the yabos on Drinking Game Friday...

Happy Drinking Game Friday to one and all! Guess who's in an oddly good mood this morning? THIS GIRL! Why? BECAUSE IT'S OFFICIALLY PRE-HALLOWEEN SEASON! And we all know that Halloween is my FAVORITE HOLIDAY EVER!!!!1 And yes I will spend the rest of this post SPONTANEOUSLY TYPING IN ALL CAPS! Ok, I'm done. I'm annoying myself. I'll stop.

It's a damn good thing Halloween season is upon us because I've been a bit of a...oh how do I say this?...an "asshole" around the office recently. And I'm sorry. Except I'm totally not sorry because this summer was the worst summer of all time. It was boring and hot and humid and lame and not full of sex, yet totally full of cockroaches and horrible. I've pretty much been in a terrible mood since Memorial Day. A mood that I have absolutely no qualms about taking out on my co-workers via sassy attitude. Two real world examples from yesterday alone:

Boss #1: Wow thanks for compiling this list of vegan-friendly caterers for me!
Me: Yep.
B#1: This is really thorough! Are you vegan?
Me: No. God just blessed me with the unique ability to type "Vegan/Catering/DC" into The Google.
B#1: [Glares]

Later...

Russell the Co-Worker: It's raining out. My daughter's class was going to take a trip to the National Zoo today.
Me: [Feigning interest] Pretty horrible day to go to the zoo.
RCW: And get this! They drove two hours from Ft. Royal to get here! I checked the weather as we were standing in line and it said it was going to rain all day and they just turned right back around.
Me: Wouldn't the smarter thing to do have been to check the weather before you traveled the two hours from Ft. Royal to DC? [Note: Russell's daughter goes to a school for the mentally handicapped.] That's kind of retar...Unwise.
RCW: [Glares]

But! I'm in a better mood now and I vow to decrease my sassiness with co-workers (and bosses...) by at least 67%. BECAUSE IT'S PRE-HALLOWEEN SEASON! (Shit. Sorry.) Tonight Becca and I are driving to our parent's house (AND YES I DID MAKE A SPOOKTACULAR MIX TO PLAY EN ROUTE!) (God damnit! Sorry again.) where we're going to have McBlogger Family Halloween Night 2009! My mom is making chili and we're going to gather 'round the fire and watch the 1981 film, Wolfen. According to my dad, Wolfen "features a middle aged Albert Finney and Gregory Hines in a non-dancing, afro-wearing role of the hero’s friend. Also appearing, Edward James Olmos playing something I can’t remember. But the real star is … NYC. And don’t forget about all the Indians (native Americans) working high steel. Very mystical and creepy. And tastefully done violence, if you ignore the blood and missing limbs." ...I've pretty much never been so excited for something in my entire life.

If you've had an equally disappointing summer and can't quite get in the mood for Halloween and the Fall, allow me to give you a helping hand. I give you this week's drinking game—The Hocus Pocus Drinking Game!


First and foremost, I would like to warn you that this game is potent. We wrote it a few weeks ago when Alex and I went to NYC to visit Co-Blogger Chris, with the help of our friend Bobby. I was out by the time they sang "I Put a Spell on You." But that might have been the numerous pitchers of Margaritas consumed earlier in the evening talking. Also! I had the biggest a-ha! moment! The guy who plays Ernie, aka "Ice," the bully in the graveyard scene (real name, Larry Bagby III) is the same guy who plays Larry Blaisdell, the closeted homosexual football player on Buffy, who made his first appearance in Buffy episode entitled "Halloween." IT ALL. COMES. FULL. CIRCLE. (...Christ.)



=



!

(PS: In researching those photos, I found this current photo of Larry Bagby III:

Kind of smokin' hawt, am I right or am I right?! Mmk. I'm right. Well. Let's just getsta drinking, shall we?)

Rules
Drink When:
- Sarah Jessica Parker sings

- A spell is cast

- Someone mentions a virgin

- The Black Flame Candle is lit

- "Yabos" are mentioned

- Whenever the witches are tricked by technology

- Binks (in cat or human form) says "Emily"

- Bette Midler speaks french

- Mary smells children

- Max is referred to as "Hollywood"

- A towns person talks about the myth of the Sanders' Sister

- The book's eyes open

- The butterflies fly away, the butterflies fly away, the butterflies fly away! (Specifically out of Billy Butcherson's mouth) (50 points if you just got that Miley Cyrus reference)

- There's a billowy white shirt

- Bette Midler says "SISTAHHHHHS"
- Larry outs himself to Xander (Wait...)

As per always, thank you so much for reading. We survive only on word of mouth, so we can't tell you how much we appreciate you threatening the lives of your friends and family if they don't read on a regular basis. You can also threaten them to follow us on Twitter, join our facebook page, vote for us here, here and here and write us in for Best Blog here. We love you and we'll see you bright and early Monday morning! (Well, I will. Chris will be in Mexico on vacation with his boyfriend having drunken vacation sex. But I'll be here! Single and sober...and in the office...weeping ever-so gently. K, I'm gonna go kill myself now.) Buh-bye!

Because I just had to weigh in...

Remember when you were a kid and you'd hit your sister on the arm really hard repeatedly until she hit you back and then you'd run to your mom hysterically crying all, "MOMMM!!!!! BECCA HIT MEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!"? That, in a nutshell, is Meghan McCain. And guess what? She's up to it again.

From Meg-Dawg's Twitter account (or so readers and Perez Hilton tell me, as we remember she blocked me months ago):

"...so I took a fun picture [see above] not thinking anything about what I was wearing but apparently anything other than a pantsuit I am a slut.."

Madam. Your tits look like they're being held up by fishing line and God is playing them like marionettes. Perhaps that, coupled with the fact that you look like you just got fucked six-ways-to-the-weekend, is the reason people think you look like a "slut." I don't think your lack of a pantsuit had anything to do with it.

"I am going to take some more time to think about it but seriously I was just trying to be funny with the book and that I'm a dork staying in."

And that's commendable. I mean, how many times have I stayed home in my jammies to watch a little NatGeo? Answer: too many. However, I probably wouldn't take a picture of myself in front of the TV wearing nothing but nipple clamps, parting my vagina lips and flashing a peace sign and post it to my Twitter account with the caption, "Jus stayin in 2nite n bein lame!!!" (...Probably being the key word here.)

"when I am alone in my apartment, I wear tank tops and sweat pants, I had no idea this makes me a "slut"..."

Yep. Just hangin' around her apartment. In full makeup. And hair. With a fresh manicure. And her boobs hiked up and her top pulled down. Just a candid moment in the life of an average girl poopin' around her apartment. And ~*WhAt A dOrK!!1*~

"I do want to apologize to anyone that was offended by my twitpic, I have clearly made a huge mistake and am sorry 2 those that are offended."

Hm. Well, at least she's in good company.



Look. Homegirl. I have DD/DDD boobs. I, of all people, understand that sometimes it's hard to round up the troops and keep 'em in line. But your dad's a Senator. You're vying to be the new face of the Republican party. You are not Tila Tequila. It's time to recognize that that's your cross to bear, invest is some extra yardage and Akrite.

Love,
Meghan C. McBlogger

Recrap Wednesday/Thursday/Price Point

Scandal Alert! Scandal Alert!

So you know how The City is totally real, no-I'm-serious-you-think-I'm-joking-but-it's-really-real-and-Whitney's-life-is-exactly-how-it-appears-on-TV-and-these-people-aren't-just-fame-hungry-or-anything-because-it's-real-life? Well, I heard a shocking revelation from someone who knows someone who heard from this guy who is best friends with the Stephanie Pratt's cousin about the show that maybe it might not be real. (ZOMG you guys! Brace yourselves!) Apparently, Roxy of Busted-Megan-Fox fame and Stephanie Pratt used to be BFFAEAEAEAE and Stephanie busted her ass to get Roxy a part on The City. And she succeeded. Clearly. But after the deal was done, Roxy gave Steph the deuces and dropped her like a ton of bricks. I can't say that I'm necessarily going to fault Roxy for giving Steph the old heave-ho, but I am saying that MTV has strayed far from the old Laguna Beach path. (Trivia for those of you who are familiar with LB, Lexi from the Kristin Cavalleri years of LB, was an auditionee for So You Think You Can Dance this season, but she got cut last night at the end of Vegas week. Wamp wamp. No more reality for you.)

This week's episode of The City was all about work. At Elle, Olivia impresses Joe Zee and the ice underneath her thickens, at least temporarily. Meanwhile, Whitney, under the sage advice of Roxy, goes behind Kelly Cutrone's back to try and pimp her new line. And crossing Mama Wolf is never a good idea, because you will get eaten. Throw in some stock footage of New York City and some indie music and you've got yourself last night's episode. But of course, what would a recrap be without this week's episode of:

The Shitty

(This week, I'm going to switch it up and keep Olivia and Whitney's sections separate, as I don't have endless stock footage to fill the gaps between the two. Deal with it.)

Olivia

[Scene 1: Joe and Erin at Armani Cafe]

Joe: Oh that little red light is on, so that means it's time to discuss Olivia. Shall we Erin?

Erin: Ugh, I'd really rather not.

Joe: Well, let's face it. Indirectly, she pays our checks on this show. So either we get to talking or we get to stepping. And then who will you scowl about?

Erin: Too true. ::sigh:: Let's see, well I think she sucks. A lot. I can work with someone who has a horrible personality. I mean, hello, there IS a mirror at my desk. But at least I get my job taken care of.

Joe: Well we have this new task for her to do. I think she's going to kill it. If not, I'll wring her scrawny little neck.

[Scene 2: In towncar]

Erin: So Liv, Livvy, Olivia. Here's the deal. 26 pieces. A to Z. Make it work.

Olivia: Wait, what?

Erin: You heard me. Make it happen.

Olivia: I'm sorry, but you really didn't explain that all too well. Or maybe the writer didn't take thorough notes. But I'm very confused.

Erin: Well, that's not my problem. So any ideas what you're going to do?

Olivia: Well I have an appointment with ::coughs and mumbles:: later today.

Erin: You'd better do more than that if you don't want to get thrown from this towncar into oncoming traffic.

(The two go to Badgley Mischka, which proceeds like a high end product placement. Erin and Olivia fawn over belts, rings, and bags, while saying price point A LOT. Lather, rinse, and repeat. Olivia goes to Robert Freyman on her own a bit later, except this time she brings a camera along with her. Take a shot everytime you hear the words price point. Then Olivia heads to Rachel Roy, whom she clearly knows off-screen.)

[Scene 3: Rachel Roy's studio]

Rachel: Oh Olivia! It's so good to see you!

Olivia: Listen, I'm hear to do a job so: price point, price point, price point. Omg that ring is amazing. Anyway, let's cut the crap.

Rachel: Right, so how are things going at Elle?

Olivia: I might kill a bitch. Seriously.

Rachel: You know what I always say? E-V-O-O. Wait, no, that's Rachel Ray. I always say that you need to take care of yourself and eventually those bitches don't matter.

Olivia: That sounds oddly familiar.

Rachel: I know, right?! I sort of DIY-ed that life lesson from a DVF quote from last season.

[Scene 4: Elle Magazine]

Joe: Hey Erin, look at these fun, totally irrelevant pictures of Victoria Beckham. Elle is so hip.

Erin: Wow, I love Victoria Beckham.

Joe: Right, enough of that plug. Oh hey Olivia! So what's the deal with A to Z?

Olivia: So, I'm nowhere near complete with this...

Erin: Ha! Knew it! So you're not done?

Olivia: ...but here's what I have so far...(Olivia puts down picture after picture of belts, bags, jewlery, vehemently agreeing with whatever Joe Zee says, and casually mentioning that she and Rachel Roy go way back. Joe Zee practically goes down on her for doing a "job well done." Whereas Erin vomits in her mouth and rolls her eyes. Could Olivia have actually done a good job?)

Whitney

[Scene 1: People's Revolution]

Roxy: What you got there, Whit?

Whit: Oh these? It's nothing. Just what I've been slaving over. My designs. I am showing Kelly them today and I'm so nervous!

Roxy: Oo let me see!

Whit: No, I don't think so. Well, ok fine. But constructive criticism only.

Roxy: Yea, sure sure (Roxy pages through some of them) What's this? It feels like a couch. A couch that I don't want to sit on. Or even look at.

Whit: I don't think you know what constructive criticism means.

Roxy: Oh shut it. Go show Kelly, I bet she'll agree with me.

Whit brings sketches to Kelly's office.

Whit: Kelly, would you mind taking a look at my sketches?

Kelly: Sure. Sit. Stay. (Kelly pages through sketches.) Your sketches are really great. I mean the actual drawing of them. I love your use of pencil.

Whit: Thanks?

Kelly: What's this though? What is this fabric? Are you upholstering this model? Also, you need about 10 more designs to get a collection out of this. Overall, I think they are good, but not great. A little too much color for my taste, but let's work together on this. Don't show anyone and we'll help you out.

Whit: I'd never show anyone. Not in a million years. Never ever ever.

[Scene 2: Brunch with Samantha]

Whit: Hey Sam. Did you get a new nose? And a personality? Something is different about you.

Samantha: It's the nose. Also, I just saw Hair on Broadway, and I was inspired to wear my hair like them.

Roxy: That's all well and good. Listen, Sam, you work at Bergdorf's, right? Whitney, you should show your designs to her boss.

Whit: ...I don't know.

Roxy: No, you should.

Whit: ...Eh....

Samantha: Seriously? I got this new nose so I would finally be relevant on this show. And this is all I get? To sit here while Roxy badgers Whitney into using my connection at Bergdorf.

[Scene 3: Mood fabrics]

Roxy: No, you really should.

Whit: Maybe.

Roxy: No. Really.

Whit: Yea, you're right. I should. Hey, by the way, why are we here? I already have swatches affixed to my sketched.

Roxy: Oh, we're just trying to corner the market on Mood Fabrics in NYC since Project Runway scampered off to L.A.

[Scene 4: Bergdorf meeting]

(Whit sits alone at conference table looking thoroughly disheveled and a little greasy. Enter Sunni, Sam's boss.)

Sunni: I don't have time for this. I'm just making that very clear. So let's get started.

Whit: Oh. OK. Well here are my sketches.

Sunni: UGH. Sketches. Give me pictures. A look book. Something. I mean they're ok. But come on, you're wasting my time.

Whit: Thanks! I really appreciate your constructive criticism.

(Note: This actually felt like it could have been real. If MTV were behind any of this, Bergdorf would have immediately picked up Whitney's line, then she'd have gone to some bar with Erin Lucas to do shots of tequila to celebrate.)

[Scene 5: People's Revolution]

Kelly: The fuck is up, Whitney?

Whit: I'm sorry?

Kelly: Don't act dumb, you bitch. Bergdorf called me. You went there and showed your designs?

Whit: It's just that Roxy said...

Kelly: Roxy said?! ROXY SAID?! Roxy is a FOB from L.A. who has been here one singular day. And you're taking advice from her? Not cool. She doesn't have your best interests at heart! She knows fuck-all. Don't cross me!

Whit: Whoa, these mentoring sessions are so different from when DVF would talk me down.

Kelly: You're damn right they are. Now get out of my sight, you maggot. And drop and give me twenty! (Pause.) But really, I love you and I'm here for you. Just don't do that again. Ever. Roxy? Bah!

Fin.

I feel like I just snorted an entire bottle of crazy pills.

Ok. This is an entirely different post than I had planned for today, but we're all just going to have to ban together and deal. I came in this morning feeling energized by the crisp weather, excited for hot yoga tonight and ready to write a post about how I think I need to stop saying "Queer" to describe things I find odd. However, OF COURSE things took a turn towards Crazytown and now I need to write about it to make myself feel better.

First of all—this job is killing me. If I were to post a craigslist ad for my replacement, this is how I would describe the job breakdown:

25% of your day will be spent "taking one for the team." That is to say, the Incumbent will take the blame for any and all mistakes made by Senior Sales staff when Corporate requires someone to be held responsible for said mistakes. Although this will make the Incumbent look irresponsible, unintelligent and somewhat mentally retarded, rest assured there is a verbal contract between Incumbent and Senior Sales that they will "have your back" should your job ever come under fire.

25% of your day will be spent working on impossible and frustrating tasks that you will be assigned mere minutes before they are due. For example, it will not be uncommon for you to be asked to create a sales presentation for a major government account 30 minutes before the presentation begins (travel time not included.) Should you not be able to make it to the presentation on time, the Incumbent is to invent a time machine, travel back to the 1985, obtain a gram of cocaine, snort said cocaine, complete presentation and travel back into the future to fifteen minutes before the presentation is due, giving the illusion of being cool, calm and collected.

The other 50% of your day will be spent anxiously anticipating the aforementioned tasks while babysitting ghosts and whispering secrets.

Benefits: None
Vacation/Sick Days: None
Pay: 32 staples an hour and the occasional pat on the bum

GAHHH!!!!! I feel like I'm going crazy here! And!!! In the middle of pulling a presentation out of my asshole in 20.5 seconds this morning, I had to take a call and get reamed out by the CEO of one of the companies we work with because I was "supposed to get the 2010 sales forecast to him two weeks ago." So why didn't I get that sales forecast to him on time, you ask? Because I wasn't supposed to! Boss #2 was supposed to, but she didn't, so she told the CEO it was my responsibility so she could buy some time and save face! And it's just understood that that's part of my job! To look stupid! HOW FUCKING FUCKED UP IS THAT?!?!?!?!?!

To make matters worse, when I came back from delivering today's presentation (ON TIME!) to Boss #1, I had another case of Random Crazy Person in the Studio! I came back, sat down at my computer to answer an email and then suddenly heard the refrigerator door open across the room. Having recently seen Saw III, I peed my pants slightly and prepared to be abducted by someone wearing a pig mask. Then I heart it: "AaaaaAalllllriiiiiiiiight!" a male voice said in a Quagmire, giggity giggity kind of way. Confused, I looked over to the fridge where some random-ass guy who looked exactly like Jason Sudeikis with graying hair was standing, giving me a thumbs up:



+



+



Me: Wow, you scared me. Can I help you with something?
Graying Jason Sudeikis: Check out this fridge!!!
Me: ........Yep.
GJS: It's stocked full of beer! NICE!
Me: Ha...ha...We just had an event. So can I help you with something?
GJS: [Continues to look around]
Me: Um..........do you have a meeting here today or something...?
GJS: This is a great space!
Me: Yeah. Thanks. Sorry, so do you have a meeting or....?
GJS: No I was just in the building and saw your space. [It was at this point I realized I had a case of Random Crazy Person in the Studio and wasn't going to be put into a medieval torture device to teach me the value of my own life. And PHEW!]
Me: Oh. Well. Ok.
GJS: [Takes a beer out of the fridge] Would you like to have a drink with me?
Me: ............What?
GJS: You got all this beer in here. Let's have a drink!
Me: Hahahaha...ha.
GJS: No really! Where's your bottle opener? [*ZACK MORRIS STYLE TIME OUT!*] What in the sweet fuckity fuck fuck?! IT IS 11:30 IN THE MORNING. WE ARE AT MY PLACE OF WORK. UP UNTIL 15 SECONDS AGO, I WAS FAIRLY CERTAIN YOU WERE HERE TO SLICE AND DICE ME LIKE A GOD DAMN SLAP-CHOP! THE LAST THING I WANT TO DO IS CRACK OPEN A COLD ONE WITH YOUR CRAZY ASS AND TALK ABOUT WHATEVER THE SWEET CHRIST IT IS THAT YOU'RE GOING TO WANT TO TALK ABOUT! [*TIME IN!*] Um. I don't think my boss would like it very much if I drank in the office right now. And we actually have a meeting in here so I'm going to have to ask you to leave soon. Sorry, I appreciate it!
GJS: HAHAHAHA!!!! Fair enough! You have a great day now!

And then he jauntily walked out of the studio and out of my life.

And that has been my morning. And the craziest part is, it's all pretty par for the course. Ergo, I'll be curled up in the fetal position under my desk working on an invisible sales forecast if you need me.

Thoughts I Couldn't Flesh Out Into Full Entires

- 2b1b reader Lovenotestoself challenged Becca in the comments section of her Moustache Manifesto to give an example, besides her boyfriend, "of a man rocking a mustache today that most normal women without daddy issues would want to ride." And as I knew she would be, Becca was more than up to the challenge. She found not one, but two examples:

1.) Jason Lee, of My Name is Earl fame


and 2.) Randy Marsh, of Stan's Dad fame


Well played, Ms. McBlogger...well played indeed.

- (NOTE: It is so incredibly vital to me that you turn up the volume and/or put in your headphones and hit play at the end of this anecdote. If not, it will ruin the entire effect and my day will be shot to hell. Mmkthnxenjoy.)

I got a slew of emails after Becca's Moustache Manifesto from readers inviting my sister to various upcoming Moustache-themed parties. Not so much inviting me, more so specifically inviting her. Which I get, considering my great disdain for The 'Stache! However, it reminds me of a traumatic event that happened a few years ago involving MySpace (as most traumatic events do.) This was back when MySpace wasn't exclusively for child molesters, emo kids and sexually active thirteen-year-olds and people actually used it to network. One night, College Rommate Danielle came home from dinner with her sister and was like, "Dude. My sister keeps going on a shit ton of dates thanks to this new-fangled thing called a 'My...Space'?" We had a good laugh and were all, "That's weird!!! LOLZ! Who trusts people they meet on the Internet? FREAKS! LOLZY WHHHAAAA?!?" and then ran to our respective corners to sign up for our own accounts. Naturally, I only uploaded pictures of myself where I look unrealistically attractive, which included a picture of me and my sister looking "petrified" at the Petrified Forest in Calistoga Springs, California. (God we're adorable.) Within minutes of posting my profile, I got a message from a hot 26 year-old DC guy with the subject, "Just Wondering..." I browsed his (dreamy) profile and had pretty much sent out our wedding invitations and monogrammed the guest towels towels when I actually read his message. It said something to the effect of the following:

Just Wondering...
Does your sister have a MySpace page?? She is GORGEOUS!

Aaaaand—

- I haven't been on MySpace in legitimately over two years and decided to check out my profile this morning for old time's sake. The following is what I wrote for favorite movie: "The 1975 classic Mitchell starring a perma-drunk Joe Don Baker and Dynasty's Linda Evans."

And for favorite music: "Funk music. Pure funk though."

...Is it cocky to say I would totally date myself?

- I would like the world to know that Boss #1's ringtone is Jamie Foxx & T-Pain's Blame it on the Alcohol. That's it. That's all I got. I just wanted you to know. And now you do. K, have a good day.

- And speaking of Boss #1 and bad musical choices! You know what really ruffles my feathers? When I'm literally given AN day to plan a 40-person cocktail party, so I hustle my fuckin' ass off to make it happen and when I actually do make it happen and stop to look around the room and think, "Wow Meg! You did it! It looks amazing in here!" And then Boss #1 immediately blasts Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy through the sound system. That really ruffles my feathers. Because the Peking Lacquered Duck atop Wild Rice Cakes that I was able to get Dean & Deluca to pull out of their asses in about, oh, 30-seconds, was not meant to be paired with drunk sorority girl music, a-thank you very much. If I knew this was the kind of shindig B#1 wanted me to throw, I would have just called Jumbo Slice and Tenley Liquors and saved myself an anxiety attack. Christ.

- Autobiography by Ashlee Simpson is one of my main gym jams. I don't really know what to tell you about that. I'm not saying she's the musical genius of a generation, I'm just saying when I'm losing energy mid-workout and she shouts, "I'M A BADASS GIRL IN THIS MESSED UP WORLD! I'M A SEXY GIRL IN A CRAZAY WORLD!", I sort of feel like "MEEE TOOOO A. SIMPS! ME TOOOO!" and feel like I can carry on. I don't know. That was a strong statement. I sort of wish I hadn't just written that but I'm too lazy to delete it. Anyway, I was walking home from the gym the other night singing Autobiography in my head and instead of singing, "Right now I'm solo but that will be changing eventually", I sang, "Right now I'm sober but that will be changing eventually."

And that is when I realized I might be a raging alcoholic. Thanks subconscious! Wink!

Happy Columbus Day!

Greetings from Alex's Monday Morning Mimosa Party (MMMP, if you will) and a Happy Columbus Day to you! Like any true-blooded American, I'll be celebrating the subtle raping of a people and a Nation the way I celebrate all great American holidays—with alcohol and mini flags!



If you are at work today—you are a terrorist.

Have a great day and we'll see you back here tomorrow!