But I did have a nice weekend, with occasional periods of unwarranted moodiness, shading at times into full-blown rage. My sincerest apologies to the shopping carts at the Trader Joe's in Bethesda, which I think I fatally damaged in a moment of tantrum. I enjoy Bethesda, and I love Trader Joe's, but I deeply hate the people of Bethesda, who wear spike-heeled, pointy-toed, snakeskin shoes to get coffee on Sunday morning, and the patrons at Trader Joe's yesterday, who brought their maniacal children to the most crowded store in the world and also copped serious attitude when asked to make some fucking room in the aisles. Boo, Bethesda.
I also apologoze to my friends and family who had to witness my several minor breakdowns over the past two days. Remember me as I usually am: employed, and with an adequate ration of vitamin D in my system. January, oh January...none of us are looking forward to you.
Good things to report: my editor at the little paper said she loves my writing and looks forward to working with me extensively. I finished my book club book, Slapstick by Kurt Vonnegut, and enjoyed it hugely. Much more than I'd anticipated. And in an effort to get some holiday cheer at any cost, I am hosting a cookie-baking and wine-drinking party on Sunday, complete with Christmas carols and scads of chocolate.
In the immortal words of Gloria Gaynor, I will survive. Hey hey.
Ladies and gentlemen, my very first ever published piece appears today in a newspaper that most people will throw away. I, however, will scan my copy.
I'm reading a great book, Last Girls by Lee Smith. She and Pat Conroy are my favorite Sountherners. Though I am compelled to admit here that I have never read any Faulkner.
Sister has an office party tonight, where she will receive a Secret-non-religious-figure-of-benevolence-and-generosity gift and a Christmas bonus. I'm going to make a herd of masturabting cows* for dinner and curl up on the couch in my fleece pants (seriously, how could someone who wears fleece pants not be single?) with Lee and The Dog. Add this to the list of reasons my loins will never bear fruit: I think my night sounds better. Except for the Christmas bonus part.
I tried and tried to buy stew meat or "beef round" for my stroganoff but I just couldn't. It was a big enough step just to buy meat from Safeway, instead of one of the lovely organic places. Unemployed people cannot have organic meat. It's a law. In the end I bought a New York strip steak. I think I'm hurtling toward a vegetarianism born of poverty (though I do spend a shocking amount of money on vegetables usually). Maybe I'm headed toward plain old starvation.
I'm finding it quite difficult to concentrate here at work lately. Quack quack (that's the sound of a lame duck.)
My editor called last night to tell me that she loved my piece. My very first published article: on Brussels sprouts. But it's the best goddamn 500 words about Brussels sprouts you'll ever see! Except you won't see it in its natural state, because that paper doesn't publish online. Maybe I'll put it in the food blog.
What else...why do I blog when my life is this dull? I bought new rain boots over the weekend. They are bright yellow, and were marked down to 15 dollars from 45. That's truly the most exciting thing that's happened to me lately. I watched The Amazing Race for the first time last night, and thus continued to cheapen and coarsen my moral fiber. TIVO is a cruel master, and I am weak.
The dog is back to his usual obnoxious self. My plans to move anywhere and give up anything to go to school have once again been smashed upon the pointed rocks of residency requirements. My office is a mess. I made some very poor acorn squash risotto the other night that I can't bear to part with because it took SO FREAKING LONG to make. I need to update my blog roll. I need a job, yo. I acquired the new U2 CD, and I'm trying to love it as much as the last one, but so far it's not happening. I used the phrase "squash the beef", as in to mend a fractured relationship, last night for the first time since...oh, maybe the early 90's. I think outdated slang and song lyrics from 80's hair metal bands are taking up valuable real estate in my brain. Wish they would give way for some marketable skills.