production maven

pro•duc'tion n. 1, act of bringing forward. 2, a product of physical or mental labor; esp., a theatrical presentation. ma'ven n. an expert. Also, ma'vin.

Friday, February 27, 2004

YOUR ONCE WEEKLY UPDATE

I can't seem to write Saturday through Thursday, but on Friday I'm all over it. Strange.

This week has been a malestrom of crazy. I don't think it stops, either. And I am caught between that weird "Type-A working until it's late" feeling and the feeling that I just don't give a fuck and would like to just curl up on that couch over there, drape a few decorative cats around me for eye-candy and warmth, and watch television (all 1-1/2 channels! And no TiVo! Ha ha!) and/or read and/or knit until my brain just sluices out of my ear and I die. Today is one of those latter days. I just don't feel like it. Remember when you didn't feel like it, you didn't have to do it? I miss those days!

I have a secret. I even slept in until 9 am this morning. Let's talk heaven!

So we had our friends with the little almost-two year old over here for dinner last night. We helped them move last weekend, and we all really enjoy each other. The woman doesn't much care for animals, though, so it's hard to have them over here to the zoo. And we tell the dogs to go lay down and they just get more curious as to who these people are. They especially like the little boy, and he is abso-fucking-lutely terrified of them. Mr. G. said, "He (the little boy) should spend 24 hours here... he won't be afraid of dogs after that." I doubt that will happen (the little guy staying here). But whatever.

The thing that I am concerned about, is that when we do have kids, I want to be especially cautious that I don't alienate my animals. Everyone I talk to who has pets and kids wish they could get rid of their pets. That's just not right. Of course the kid will be important, but these dogs and cats are our first babies. They have taught us how to love, be compassionate, how to do things with consistency, how to be responsible, and how to deal with something that needs you more than you need to do that *whatever* for you. Anyone who wants to have kids, I have a suggestion for you: go get a cat or, better yet, a dog. Dogs are great because of their bathroom needs. You have to come home from that club/party in the middle of the night, and be able to drive so that you can let Fido out before you go to bed and when you get up in the morning. And you have to deal with their barf, their hunger, their shit, their everything, until they get potty training and eating down right. It's like a kid, but dogs go through the growth and toilet issues all at once. If you can't handle a dog and the responsibilities of them, then DO NOT go off the pill! Use those condoms! You can't take a kid out to the country and let them go if it doesn't work out (and people should be punished for doing that to dogs and cats too, but that's a rant of a different color, for some reason people think that dogs and cats don't love you and rely on you in the same way. I think they are W.R.O.N.G.).

I love my dogs. I love my cats. And I will love my children. I do believe that we will all be able to exist harmoniously together, when the kids are here.

I tried to upload a picture of the dogs to Fotolog.com but that site just sucks.
Suffice it to say, love your pets, even if you have kids. They will love you when they are teenagers, at least. And they don't do drugs, only catnip or beef bones. They will always be glad to see you, don't get embarassed when you do something stupid, and always want to spend time with you. They will keep you warm in the winter, and entertain you all the time.

Have a great weekend, all.

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Saturday, February 21, 2004

I CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE WHAT A BLOG SLACKER I'VE BECOME

And, of course, I have an excellent reason.
I've been B.U.S.Y.
This week, the phone was ringing off the hook, the e-mails were flowing in, the work at the publisher is overflowing, my printer (my laser printer) is being fussy, the house needed cleaning—and still does, I might add—and, besides, kids, I really like my 8-10 hours of sleep per night. I haven't even been working out as much as I should. So, I do apologize, again, for not giving you the daily on my life. It would probably all read the same:
"Busy, can't write, just have been working a lot"

But now I'm all yours!

Here's a run-down on this week:
•we had two deliverable jobs this week, both on Friday (one was screwed up by the printer and that just happened to be the one for my brother's new business, and he absolutely had to have it today or else the world would end—luckily, he seems to be happy with what he got, even though it's not a perfect job)
•we have a meeting with a new client on Monday that promises he would pay $3,000.00 as a "high end" for logo design (yippee!!!)
•another client this week decided to change the scope of a project so that we don't have to try and make our money off of ad revenue (selling ad space just SUCKS). So this works well for us, we don't have to watch ourselves loose money on a back-breaking project.
•we went to our first Chamber Mixer (at a laundrymat!!! We wished we had brought some laundry to do) and schmoozed and drank free beer and punch (not mixed together) and ate cocktail weenies wrapped in pastry. Yummy.
•I went to Boston and had a silly amount of work to do, and got most of it done
•I got a rush freelance reading/rating job, and am almost done. Pharmaceutical speak is pretty dull, if you ask me. But at $15 per hour, who am I to complain?? It's money!
AND
•I had the "maternity leave" conversation with my boss. Now, don't go to Babies R Us yet and buy me anything (well, you can if you want to); we're in the *trying* stages. But at least I was able to have the conversation with my boss, and she didn't bug out, so that's promising. There are three of us in the office that are trying to get pregnant. To the best of my knowledge, none of us are just yet. It would suck if we all go at once though.

We're also doing lots of networking - you can check out this and see what kind of trouble I'm getting into. This is a pretty neat site, especially if you have your own business. I haven't had a lot of time to check it out, and search other sites, but it is cool. My friend B turned me on to it.

I would like to send a slightly belated congratulations to Dooce & Jon and the frog baby. I don't know these people, but Dooce's writing is just phenomenal. She is entertaining, extremely intelligent, and honest. And she and Jon are lovely to look at. She's someone you want to have a drink (or 10) with and see what kind of trouble you can get into together.

And, an ahead of time congratulations to Jessamyn & Geoff. Their baby is due imminently. Scary. Fun.

We had dinner last Sunday night with some friends, to celebrate our friend Foster's birthday. All of the other ladies were pregnant, with their second (and in once case, third) child. I can't wait to get pregnant! I had a nice twilight dream (you know, when you're half asleep) about a baby. We are so ready. As ready as we'll ever be.

Anyway, that's about it in my land. We got a horrible e-mail from Mr. G's Sister B, blaming me for all kinds of things. I have had it with that family. It's always my fault. We were suppose to go there this weekend, but her bitchy e-mail made us change our minds. I don't know if I'll ever go there again, at least for a while, anyway. And, it's bloody snowing again. I am getting VERY impatient for winter to end. And those damn seed catalogues keep arriving in the mail, and making me drool!

Time to vacuum before Mr. G. gets back from recycling. That's my end of the deal.

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Saturday, February 14, 2004

YOU'D BETTER BE WEARING BLACK TODAY!

Even though I have the best sweetie in the world, in the entire universe; I have been fortunate enough to marry my best friend who happens to be of the opposite sex; I still don't like Valentine's Day. I mean, it's ok and it can be fun and all, but I find it really annoying that the man has to tell people when to show their partner/spose/crush/whatever that they love them—and demonstrate it by useless underwear, overpriced flowers that will fade away, candy that will trigger a "hm, shouldn't have eaten that " response, or any of the other PINK crap that is out there! The more that Mr. Everyday Joe spends, the more s/he loves his/her spouse/partner/whatever. Just think for yourselves!!! Do you love someone? Don't friggin wait until the dead of winter to show it! Jesus! Get with the program!

I smart a little from V-Day, because of the whole growing up unpopular thing. For instance, in high school, there was always a Flower Day on or around Valentine's Day. You paid $1 for a carnation (which are the new popular flowers, I read somewhere. I wonder who decides these things??), wrote a little note to the object of your desire or left it blank if you were really mysterious, and the flowers would be delivered during homeroom around V-Day. You can, I'm sure, ascertain that I wasn't the recipient of many flowers on that day, although I did my share of sending some. It was sad and frustrating. Unrequited love at its most base form. And in high school, that is the drop of blood in the pool filled with sharks. No good.

I will say that Valentines Day can be a nice diversion, the whole "light up someone's life when the winter doldrums are causing most people to contemplate some sort of hurt because they are so depressed" idea. However, if you love someone you will instinctivly know to do that well before your loved one starts to finger the trigger of their favorite AK-47.

To see some really fun Valentines, go to
Poundy
. The woman is talent, pure unadulterated talent.

Mr. G. and I had a GREAT Friday the 13th. Thirteen is my favorite number (I have a tattoo to prove it) and I do love Fridays! Never mind what that silly Hollywood says. We went up to Burlington to have some client meetings (and picked up some new work - whoo-hoo!), dropped off a job and the first word out of the client's mouth was "These look great!", and caught up with a friend who is more of an aquaintence than a close friend, but he's more exciting than just an aquaintence. His wife is having a baby in a week. He seems rather calm about the entire thing. Interesting. I'll check in with him again in a month or so, to see how he's holding up.

Then we did a little shopping, and things went south a bit. Usually I like to shop quite a bit. However, it is VERY frustrating to shop when you have money and all you can find is crap! Mr. G. wanted a new wool sweater. Plain, wool sweater. It's still February. One would think that there would be wool sweaters up the ying-yang, right? Winter is still present. It's still bloody cold. Sweaters everywhere, overstocked in every store! How wrong we were. Everywhere we went, Gap, J. Crew, Old Navy, A&F, American Eagle, every store had the same damn clothing. Prefaded, pre-everything... in cotton. The wool sweaters we did find had hideous stripes on them. Thank goodness for Filenes. The land of wool sweaters. Where we found exactly... 2 of them that were plain, no stripes. On had some zipper thing on it, so we got the other. It's a nice sweater, but by god, you reach a point in your life where you want to shop, and it sucks big time when you can't find anything to spend your dough on.

But then we went to the place
where we got married
and had a nice dinner with a salesperson friend of mine, who also came back and stayed at the house. She bailed out of here EARLY today, so it's just been us, working. And I am going to finish up baby blanket #2 today, and start on #3.

And this morning, the first thing Mr. G. said to me, which means the world to me any day he says it, was "Good morning, I love you." He didn't just say it because it is the 14th of February.

I love you too, Mr. G. Every day of every year, for the rest of my life.

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Monday, February 09, 2004

Remember me.... Remember me!

So in addition to dreaming about Brad & Jen frequently, I also have dreams about people who have passed into and through my life. They are people from all walks of life, and all times throughout my own life. They are people that I have loved, for perhaps a brief time, and perhaps a very long time. They are regrets: certainly I don't regret having known them, I regret that they are no longer in my life. They left a hole that has been filled by other things, yet I still miss them and think about them, some more than others. They are friends, lovers, and aquaintences. Here's a short list, as well as a brief description of who they are, and when I knew them.

Mo W.—my first serious boyfriend. A loner, a drifter, but a talented artist and funny as all hell, when he wanted to be. Lost touch with him in 1997. He still owes me $500, too.

Toby C.—a good friend throughout high (literally) school, also a really, really talented artist and great buddy. Had a falling-out with another close friend, and disappeared. Last time I talked to him (in 1998??) he was a new father in Utah.

Arian A.—a serious crush in college who–lucky for me!–also became a good friend. I graduated (1994) and got the hell out of Dodge (or, out of Ithaca, more literally). He moved to Germany to go to school over there, called me one night drunk as hell (1995), and I haven't heard from him since. He pops up in my dreams frequently. I would love to re-connect with him.

Ian P.—also a college crush, Clash and reggae fan and a soccer player. Was *cool* to me the last time I saw him, and I have read in our Alumni Magazine that he's in the Navy now. OK. Whatever.

Heidi K.—she's married now, K. was her maiden name. College friend, fraternity sister, silly silly girl. I am still technically "in touch" because we exchange Christmas cards, but we don't e-mail. Last seen in 1994 wearing stripy tights. Suburban military-wife mother of two.

Brenna R.—a friend throughout high school and college, wild woman extraordinaire, troubled but wonderful soul. Last time I saw her in person, I don't remember. Last time I saw her *person* was on the news, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time involving the authorities. However, I'm friends with a co-worker of hers, and I guess she's straightened her life out. That makes me happy for her and her little guy, G. I hope we pass back into each other's lives soon.

T.J. K.—Couch surfer supreme. My old best-friend/roommate's ex who stayed with us for 7 months on our couch. Excellent roller of joints. Superhero in disguise. Bass player par excellence. Last seen in 1996, when we had to kick him out because he was bringing ladies home to sleep with on our couch. That just ain't cool.

James S.—my former assistant at the first Boston publisher, declared his feelings for me at my going away party in front of my new husband and my co-workers, excellent copier of music, funny as all hell, very good looking guy. Sarcastic sense of humor. Won't talk to me any more, am not sure why. Last seen in 2001.

Michael P.—a college friend who was also a Boston friend. Funny, cute. My friend Josh's ex. Last seen: I can't even remember when.

Gabe B.—former neighbor and friend who dated my friend Nini ages ago. Piercing master. Into the world everything scene, last seen in 1997 or 98. Last I heard he moved out to the left coast and had converted to Islam.

Gretchen & Scott—Boston friends. Musician and sex fiend (him), cat lover and chain-smoker (her). Bar buddies. Funky and funny. Got married a while ago, last seen at the Longhorn Steakhouse in Allston. I think that must have been 1998 or 1999. Her parent's Cape House was the scene of many many good times.

Jay—My Bass ale partner in crime. Last seen in 1999.

MaryBeth & Tim—more Boston friends. Seamstress and mommy's helper specialist (her). Canoeing on the South Shore with his crazy band mate. One of the first couples I met when I went to Boston. I last saw him when he was working on a film down my street in Boston (1998??). He mentioned they were getting married. Never got the invitation. Careful, he barfs when he eats mushrooms. He likes to do that on someone's bed.

If you see any of these people, send them my way. We never really had a falling out, things just kind of fizzled one way or the other. I would love to have them back in my life in one way or the other.

And, I think I'll be adding my mother-in-law to this list. It is very sad to me, how she's treating Mr. G. She's changing the rules and making him not a part of their family. So he has no choice but to extracate himself from the drama that surrounds her. It's sad, silly, and very frustrating. When I got married, I really was excited about having an extended family. I love my family, we're not only related, we genuinely like each other, even if we don't always get along. We get past the BS though. I invited my future mother and sisters-in-law to come and help me pick out my dress, my mother-in-law was included when we were planning the details of the wedding (even though she didn't help to pay for it) and was generally included, which is not usual. I figured since it was her only son getting married, it would speak volumes to include her and make a good starting gesture. I guess these intensions have backfired and we're getting to the point of no turning back. I have not been perfect, I am not claiming to be the victim. But she's just making it harder and harder to even want a relationship, and so I say, I have other things to fight for that I want more. I've been married for five years, and this isn't getting easier, on me or on Mr. G. Luckily, our relationship gets stronger and stronger, so that's the silver lining.

Mr. G. is just crushed. I feel so sad for him. He's so sad. I just want to snuggle him. Got to go on the snuggle patrol.

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Saturday, February 07, 2004

An Open Invitation to Brad & Jen

Now, I am not a celebrity fuckwit. I enjoy the entertainment shows sometimes, when the hosts don't bother me too much with their posturing and posing. I do love my weekly fix of People magazine. But I do not make it my life's goal to get to Hollywood for the Oscars or anything like that. I don't hold Golden Globe or Oscar parties. Those of you that do, that's great, and I hope you have fun. I don't read the National Enquirer any of those other supermarket tabloids. I keep my eyes open for celebrities when I go to Manhattan (and have seen Neal Patrick Harris a.k.a. Doogie Howser M.D. hiding behind his hat in a Manhattan elevator trying to disappear and Sarah Ferguson in person - I saw HRH in London and shamelessly chased after her car with my mom who was visiting me). And I knew the guy who played the plumber on Silver Spoons (or Family Ties? Can't remember), named Ralph Martin - he was my friend's ex-step-father. Nice guy, he listened to me when I wanted to become an agent and gave me a great book called From Agent to Actor and he even signed it to me. And I got Brigette Nielson's autograph in London at the British Airways ticket counter in King's Cross Station—she was really, really tall and lovely, even without makeup. Really, though, that's the extent of it (wow, there are more than I thought!).

But honest to god, I can't get celebrities out of my dreams! I can control what I watch on television, or read in the magazines. I've dreamed about Morrissey. Regularly, I dream about Brad and Jen. They're certainly clean dreams (they're not dreams about sex with Brad, he just doesn't hold that kind of appeal to me at all, sure he's handsome and all but I've got a man—a really fine man), and for some reason, those two are pretty much the only celebrities who visit me during my nocturnal rest. Last night, for instance, I dreamed that they were hanging around with us at the Fairgrounds up near the city. There was a combined dog and horse show, and Brad was trying to learn how to ride a horse bareback. We were all laughing and pal-ing around together. And I'll bet that's how they're like in real life. Not like Brittney, who I'll bet is supreme high-maintenance. Or Cher, who probably can't keep her face out of mirrors. Or J.Lo, who I can't imagine being able to tolerate for more than maybe the time it takes to get her autograph. I think Brad and Jen would be like Tim (Robbins) and Susan (Sarandon) - willing to get dirty, eat cookie dough out of the bowl, let the dogs jump up on them, hang around the house on Sunday and enjoy a good dinner, etc. Just fun people to be around.

So this is an open invitation to Jen and Brad—if you all are ever in Vermont and want a nice little retreat, come on over. Bring your ten (or however many there are) dogs, we'll go snowshoeing or walking, and we'll have ourselves a nice casual time. You can borrow whatever books you want from my library. And I won't ask for your autograph. I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.

Do any of you precious readers have great ideas in the shower, then have them evaporate as you're towelling off? This happens to me a LOT. I need some waterproof paper and a waterproof pen.

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Friday, February 06, 2004

Hi... Remember me?

Sorry it's taken me quite a bit of time from my last post to now... it's Friday again (time flies!) and I am covered with hair. Just vacuumed the house—do you see how exciting my life is lately? I have a funny story to tell, coming to you all the way from Florida.... here goes:
So my mom and dad are in Florida, visiting friends and relatives and decompressing from their 8-year stint as motel keepers. They're finally relaxed, playing golf, sitting by the pool, etc. I'm getting phone calls from my mom where she has to cut it short because she's too hot and has to cool off with a dip in the pool—while I'm getting another damn snowstorm! I'm glad they're happy though. They've worked VERY hard in their lives, and I'm glad they've figured out a way to retire (or semi-retire) and enjoy themselves. Neither of them had reached the age of 60 yet, but my dad will this fall. ANYWAY. I digress. My mom and my aunt were out by the pool at my aunt's condo complex, visiting with some neighbors of my aunts. The neighbors, after a spell, decided to excuse themselves because they "had to go and eat fried corn". Neither my mom or my aunt knew quite what "fried corn" is - they asked, and were told that it's fresh corn, taken off the cob, and fried in (get this): butter and bacon fat! Could be good, could be bad. The neighbors brought the following on themselves, because they did not think to invite my mom and aunt to try some. They go inside, and presumably start frying up some corn. My mother and my aunt (who are both a little crazy, crazy in a good way, but yes, crazy) decide they've got to get themselves in front of some fried corn, PRONTO. So they go, put wigs and hats on, grab some bells and whistles (literally: they grabbed noisemakers) and they head out the door, clanging and banging, under cover except I think maybe they still had only their bathing suits on.
Try to get a visual here.
Now I'll continue: so they go up to the neighbors, ring the doorbell, and claim that they are the "Corn Police" and that there had been a report of some wild and wooly corn that needed taste testing. So they got to try it. Mom said it wasn't as good as they thought it would be.
I think the sun has fried my mom's brain.

Stupid Photolog. I can't upload any more pictures for your viewing pleasure! Maybe I'll try again later... but I can only do one per day. Stupid Photolog

I would like to offer congratulations to Mo for her new job. That is great news.

Here are some concerts that I would really honestly give up almost anything to see:
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (I don't even know if this tour will come to the U.S. —anyone feeling generous and wanting to send me to Spain to catch some shows in Madrid and Lisbon?)
Interpol (If you have not heard their debut album Turn on the Bright Lights you are missing out on something better than good. Imagine a contemporary Joy Division with some really excellent percussion and just fanticize from there).
•ABBA (believe it or not)
Alice in Chains (This would involve some time machine involvement though. Doesn't look like they've been doing much since the death of Layne)
•Another Dead can Dance show would be nice. I've seen them once, and seen Lisa Gerrard once when she was promoting her first solo album.
•Nirvana (again, the time machine needs to be in good working order)
•More turning back time in order to see some good shows:
Billie Holiday
Miles Davis (the Kind of Blue years, I'm not a fan of the more contemporary stuff)
old concerts like Mozart and Beethoven, as well as how chaotic the old Shakespeare theatre would get (so we're talking going back 400 or so years, no problem, right?

What are some shows you all would love to see?

Anyway, I'm a little bored, so I'm sure you must be a LOT bored. I am almost done with baby blanket #2 - #1 was well received.

I've been compiling a list of things that the Commander in Cheif should not be allowed to do while he's in office. Oral Sex isn't on the list. Lying is. I am not enthusiastic about John Kerry. I feel like he's "Bush-lite". "Bush-Liberal". I don't know. Just not fired up about him, the way I was about Howard.

We have gotten another foot of snow this week. This has been a bitch of a winter. We have 2 large snowdrifts that look like mountain ranges around the house. One is called Mt. Dupa-do. The other one I can't tell you because I would then be giving out my last name, and I'm not so much on doing that. Don't want to develop a stalker problem (ha ha!)

I'll try to become more inspired next week.


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Monday, February 02, 2004

ha ha!
do you ever hate your co-workers?
this makes it all worthwhile!
song sung blue

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MONDAY BLAH BLAH

So, yay, made it to another month. Not only another Monday, but another month. Here's the kicker for today: I am supposed to send a BIG printing job out that I am brokering. I am also supposed to have a part of the cost from my client, so that I can send this book out according to the stupid rules and terms that I have been granted by my printer sales rep, who didn't do sh*t to try and get me some decent terms. Now, you gotta know that I pay my bills - both private and professional - on time. Usually I pay them early. OK, except for my last cell phone bill. It was 2 days late, they charge me a .20 "late fee". I wish I got a .20 "early credit" when I pay the bill early, which happens 99% of the time. So I'm waiting for the mail to come, but I have a sneaky suspicion that my client's check won't get here until later this week, and I am going to have to float the $8,000+ until I get it, because of course this is a RUSH JOB and the client wants it done and delivered in 5 weeks (a nice, comfortable turn-around in the book world is 8 weeks). Plus, the client has some incomplete information, so we'll be dropping it in at proof. I hate to do that to my printer. Hate it. Hate sending things piecemeal to them. It's confusing, and it's grounds for really screwing up this job. My business is a turn-key business. It doesn't do well with fronting money like that. And I hate to drain my account.... I guess I'm just going to have to suck it up and hope for the best. And send a frantic e-mail to my client if the check ain't in today's mail.

Had a great weekend, some friends came up and Mr. G. and the other husband went skiing and didn't end up in the hospital, so that was a good thing. Went snowshoeing and wussed out on Saturday, after only about 30 minutes. That is some hard work, people. Had a great dinner Saturday night at our other friends house, one couple wasn't able to go because the wife had the dreaded stomach flu. That is just no good at all. I had that last year. It's no fun to be shitting your brains out in the middle of the night. No fun. She's better though, and we'll see them this weekend. Our friends who hosted dinner Saturday had a little illness going on too - their little boy has also been sick, so every time he got this strange little far away look on his face, kind of a "hm, I wonder what my insides are doing" kind of look, dreamy and concerned and a little nervous, they would try and distract him by saying "Think of your choo-choo!! Think about your choo-choo!" It was funny, effective, and a little nerve-wracking all at the same time. It worked pretty well, until the end of the evening when he got the mom. I don't know how I'm going to deal when I am a parent and I have to change my clothes and the kids clothes because of the child-eruptions. A friend has a very good idea - free range children. Just set them outside after birth, throw them some grub every once and a while, and turn the hose on them periodically. They'll grow.... right?

Speaking of stinky (in a round-about way), I got to give one of the cats a bath last night! She is the biggie kitty, weighing in at 18-20 lbs. She has a hard time "reaching" certain places, and we suspect that she sat in some fresh pee in the box. She did not smell very good. So I got to give her a bath, which was a lot less traumatic than I had anticipated it would be. There was a little bit of scratching, a little yowling, but it was all good. And then we sat in front of the woodstove, watched QE, and I towel-dried her. She now smells like a little gray bottle of perfume. Smelly-good!

Got to go to Boston tomorrow. Whee.

I am sitting here right now looking rather lovely. I have my hooded sweatshirt on, but just the hood part, on my head. I feel like I should be in a gang or something. I am bad-ass.

I lost the office (Boston office) football pool yesterday. Stupid Pats. Winning the game. Jerks.

Mr. G. and I got to take some pictures of another one of the cats while she was frolicking today. He needed to draw her for an illustration he's going to use in a book. She will be forever remembered because of it. Cute!

Anyway. Got to motivate, get in the shower, go check the mail, front a check for my client, send him a nasty e-mail, then get to FedEx before 4 bells. In the meantime, you all take care of yourselves.

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