Voting Is More Fun Than Reading This Site
November 02, 2004
Blah blah bliddity dee vote vote cakes or P. Diddy will kill you etc.
I tried to vote this morning, but the line was two hours long. And the line at the nearest Starbucks was even longer. So no. Later. Promise. Because D.C. three electoral votes are going to decide the election this year! I can feel it! We sort of matter!
Actually, the only real influence Washington, D.C. has on the presidential election is the Washington Redskins Factor. If the Skins win their last home game before the election, the incumbent gets re-elected. If they lose, the challenger wins.
Green Bay totally spanked the Skins on Sunday. SPANKED.
So since I watched the game with extra intense patriotic interest, I feel I have already done my civic duty.
I spent most of the weekend pretending not to be sick. And then I spent most of yesterday pretending not to be sick at work. And eating leftover Halloween candy. But that’s besides the point.
But since I have no point, I will just tell you about my hair.
I did not cut it all off. I got a trim. See? Long and flowy and hippie-like:
Later, we took Ceiba to the park for her first leash-free experience.
Also very exciting.
(Y’all, I am CRANKY today. I mean, I must be. This is the worst entry ever.)
I think I know why I’m cranky. Somebody switched my office phone last night. I was hoping to get a new phone for my new (WINDOW!) office.
I came in this morning and had a new phone, but it’s an OLD new phone. Like, even older than the one I had before. The speed-dial labels were done on a typewriter. And there’s a big ugly sticker on the handset with the number for our company security pager.
What the hell is the security pager? Who exactly does it page? Is that the number I call the next time I fire an assistant so a big burly security guard will rush in and escort her out? That would be cool. Except that we only have a security guard after 6 p.m. and he’s quite old and feeble.
Anyway. I hate this phone. It’s ugly. It is seriously labeled “Classic Lucent.” Classic meaning Old n’ Busted Piece of Shit, apparently.
It’s ringing. I am so not answering it until someone brings me some disinfectant for the handset.
I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed an assistant, y’all. We got turned down by our one smart and human candidate. And yet on Friday in the Big Ass Meeting, I decided to talk a lot and suggest all sorts of brilliant ideas that mean tons more work for Amy. I really need to just wear my 15 pieces of flair and shut the fuck up sometimes.
So seriously? Any editorial assistants out there want a job? Entry to junior level? You get your own office? And there’s always a lot of candy around? And you could work for me, Special Mystery Guest Advice Columnist and VP Mike?
I bet they’d give you a new phone, too. Which I would promptly steal from you.
I present The Bold & the Bloglicious Election Spectacular, which makes about as much sense as Ralph Nader.