Rushing to FedEx right now reminded me of when I used to work with Katie - and one night in particular. If you know me at all, you know that my greatest fear in life is to look stupid - I simply try my hardest not to place myself in any sort of embarrassing situation. The night I mention, Katie and I were working our butts off to get a project done so that we could drive it to a nearby FedEx (since we had already missed the building's FedEx pick-up). Katie was not in the greatest mood and I was trying not to let her mood affect my mood. We ran to the elevator holding various FedEx envelopes and boxes, and Katie's instructions were "to run to her car as soon as the elevator doors opened." Now, I had no problem running when there was no one around, but I sure as hell wasn't going to run if there was a chance people could see me! Just my luck, the elevator was packed and so I resolved that I would walk, at a brisk pace of course, to Katie's car - let her run and look like a crazy woman. I would pretend that I wasn't even associated with her. Doors open - and she's off. I step out, thinking that I've made it when - BAM - a Fed Ex box goes flying out of Katie's hands and without stopping, the crazy girl blows my cover and turns around to shout, "Pick it up!" I couldn't believe it! So there I am, running to catch up and picking up Katie's droppings to boot! To top it all off, I had to ride with Katie as she NASCAR-ed it to FedEx - if you've ever driven with Katie under normal circumstances, you can just imagine how many times my life flashed before my eyes.

It was quite gratifying today to learn that the majority of my colleagues (who are either my age or a few years younger) disliked the movie E.T. as much as I did. I had always thought I was somewhat of an outcast for disliking what is supposed to be such a great movie. I can remember walking out of the theater at the tender age of six and being scared out of my mind by that ugly creature. I didn't find him adorable and cuddly like good ole Drew Barrymore's character - I thought he was freaky looking and if I had ever come across him in my house, I can tell you that I would not have made him my best friend. I would have sent him home as fast as you can say Reese's Pieces. (Damn, and they had to go and use one of my favorite candies in this piss poor excuse for a movie!) I have not watched E.T. in its entirety since that first time and I don't think I ever will. And to know that I am not alone in my antipathy for this Spielberg classic made my day.

To Chalupa-Head and Poi-Boy - thanks for another great evening!

TAJ HAYNES

- lived on my floor freshman year and swears that I tutored him in Calculus (though I never can remember that)
- has seen me in full cowgirl gear at the Paso Robles Mid-State Fair...from the Wranglers to the boots to the hat (no huge belt buckle Taj, but I know it embellishes your story!)
- was one of the first of my college friends to visit my parent's house in Santa Maria
- is one of the funniest Taboo players around and he only improves with age
- will always be an honorary member of Dinner Club where his insights and reflections are always welcome - can you say "circles"?
- drove us to San Diego for Memorial Day weekend and was a prime participant in the debacle known as Barefoot Bar & Grill
- will know me in 13 years and he will make sure I am living up to my dreams

Happy Birthday, Taj - from one of your biggest fans!

I was very impressed with PG&E tonight. After walking into our house for the second night in a row and being swathed in the smell of gas, we called our landlord and then we called PG&E's 24-hour customer service number. It was 6:30 - the guy showed up at 6:45. He found our oven pilot light was out which was causing the toxic smell, but then he also found a small leak on our stove top (which is quite interesting being that Adrian's godparents thought they smelled gas when they visited us months ago). Now a plumber has to come and fix the stove top - didn't know plumbers fixed kitchen appliances, but now I do and I will file that away for when I go on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire." Let's hope that our landlord and his suave Mr. Jack-of-all-Trades (who I met when he came to fix a leak that was dripping into our cabinets from the apartment upstairs) will be as timely and efficient.

Could she be crazier than my boss? Check this lady out - I emailed a professor today about doing a review for me - a review that consists of reading 21 pages and then answering 10 questions. A review that I am currently paying $75 for because that is what is applicable. This is what she responds with:

I would indeed be interested in reviewing the two proposals. As for the "pay," a personal trainer in my health club has a fee of $125 per hour, not including taxes. He doesn't even have a college degree. So how much do you suppose $75 would cover for a person with a Ph.D. and over 30 years of professional teaching experience? Half an hour?

Can you believe that? I so wanted to write her back and tell her that I think she needs to relook at her choice of career - that personal training seems to be where the money is at so why in the world is she a professor?!?! Crazy story short - I sent her the review materials, but I refuse to budge from my $75 honorarium.

Two gore/horror movies during the day = One chick flick at night

"The Ring" - B- / "Red Dragon" - B / "Kissing Jessica Stein" - C-

I guess when you dream about your crazy boss for the first time, you're bound to wake up with a headache the next day.

Adrian just doesn't get it. You don't make a wish when it's 3:37, or 1:42, or 11:38. You make a wish when the numbers are in a consecutive order. 2:34 works, 3:45 works, and 12:34 really works. I can also understand wishing on a "special" number - for Katie, that's 10:21 or my mom's is 5:55. But to do it arbitrarily? That's just plain silly.

Mark Anderson is a dog person. Katie Carson is a dog person. Amanda Santana is NOT a dog person - I'm not even a cat person, a hamster person, or a goldfish person. I don't like pets, period. So today when it's 5:15 and I'm working my butt off to leave work while it's still light outside, the last thing I want to do is baby-sit my boss's dog while she goes to get a drink with her boss for signing a new author. Not only was I unable to get any more work done because the dumb dog kept running away and whining, but I had to spend time calming him down by petting him! Ugh! Thank God for Analie, who arrived just in time to take Shadow away to her office before I let the damn dog loose on the streets.

Highlights for those of you who aren't interested in my long-winded versions:

Saturday, Oct. 5 red-eye flight puts us into NYC at 7 am; however, check-in isn't until 3 pm (bad idea, bad idea) - breakfast buffet in Times Square - TKTS - nap in Borders - check-in! (upgraded room) - 42nd Street (who knew Luke Duke could sing?) - China Fun with Aunt Flo

Sunday, Oct. 6 walk Manhattan: Soho, Dean & Delucca, lunch in Little Italy, Chinatown, South Street Seaport, Indian food bonanza, Brooklyn Bridge, Ground Zero - cozy Afghan restaurant with Aunt Flo - Staten Island ferry

Monday, Oct. 7 Central Park - "Angels in America" - Serena Nanda: professor extraordinaire - Guggenheim - "Moving Pictures" - Indian food - bad tiramisu (at some crappy Italian joint)

Tuesday, Oct. 8 learn a lesson: never get on a bus with wheelchair passengers if you're in a hurry - lunch in Chinatown with the grandparents (looking good for 90, Mrs. Liang) - Greenwich Village (did we miss it?) - American Museum of Natural History (boring, boring, BORING...and I work in Anthropology? go figure) - Hudson River walkway - Italian with Aunt Flo and this time, excellent tiramisu

Wednesday, Oct. 9 TKTS (oops...an hour late) - pizza, always pizza - Les Miserables (and you thought the AMNT was boring?) - dinner with Maria at Tao (swanky) - Opia for drinks

Thursday, Oct. 10 Adrian finds his true passion is to be a taxi driver on the streets of NYC - drive to Long Island - see the childhood home, hear the childhood high-jinks - lunch at TGI Friday's (come on...we were in the suburbs, we couldn't resist) - United Nations - Empire State building with Aunt Flo - Japanese food - "My Big Fat Greek Wedding"

Friday, Oct. 11 rain, rain, go away... - lunch with the grandparents at a "European" Chinese restaurant...and no, I don't need a fork, Mr. Waiter - Metropolitan Museum of Art - Robert Avendon - relax at the hotel watching daytime TV - dinner party at Taj's - drinks on the West Side

Saturday, Oct. 12 still raining - some of our standards: pizza, Borders - check-out - Super Shuttle with can't-stop-staring Milan man - Trading Spaces all the way home

We're back! Highlights to come - first, a good night's sleep is in order.

In some weird way, I'm a little bit sad that my vacation is here. I guess it has to do with the fact that the anticipation part is over. This trip has been planned for months and while not speaking about it at every waking moment, the people in my life have known about it's coming. All my work friends have continually asked me about the impending trip - wanting to know what I'm going to do, see, wear. I gained a sort of "vacation popularity." I know the trip is going to be spectacular, but I'm currently in that in-between stage: done with the work day, not yet on the journey. Plus, I still need to go buy travel-size mousse and shaving cream. And I'm tired. All the makings for a wonderful vacation, right?

I have had terrible luck with borrowing books from my co-worker Anna. Somehow, I take perfectly normal books and ruin them beyond recognition. Okay, maybe not that extreme, but I have yet to return one in the condition that it was so graciously handed to me. The first one I was trying to read while I brushed my teeth. I was sitting on the edge of my tub which had recently been showered in. I lost my grasp on the book and in it fell, onto the wet shower floor. I thought I had reached it in time, but no, the last forty pages of the book were damp. Soakingly damp. And of course, the pages dried all wrinkle-like to make the book suddenly look like a thousand-page tome. In apology, I returned two books to Anna - the ruined one and "White Teeth" which is one of my favorite boks and my way of offering a big, fat "Sorry!" The second book I borrowed decided to get down and dirty with the underside of my driver's seat. Sure, I left it on the backseat, but how was I to notice that my sharp turns would lead to the book finding its way underneath my seat where it would languish for days without so much as a peep? I don't remember why I even bothered to look under my seat, but when I did, there I found it. It's white cover dusted with a thin layer of car grime (don't publishers think of the disasters that could befall a book with a white cover?) - I was worried. I didn't want to start a trend here. I contemplated stealing a new cover from a bookstore, but that seemed a bit exteme. Could some soap and water do the trick? They definitely helped, but I could still see the damage. I decided to take it to the people. "It's not as bad as you think it is," Stranger on the Street said. "You can always return it without the cover and see if she will notice," Not Too Bright Guy at Safeway said. "It's dirty? Oh, I just thought that brown stuff was part of the design," Color Awareness Girl said. I debated and debated and then I returned it. As is. Except I put a note to Anna thanking her for the book on a Post-it and then I placed that Post-it over the worst of the damage. I went with the theory that it had been awhile since I had borrowed the book and just maybe, Anna would not remember the exact condition of the book when she had given it to me. Let her think it was like that all along. She hasn't commented on the book yet, but she also hasn't suggested letting me borrow a new book either. I think our book relationship is over. My heart is broken.

She wonders why he doesn't feel the need to bring more than two pairs of pants to New York.
He can't understand why she made a list of outfits weeks ago or how she plans to fit them all into one suitcase.
Relationships are a delicate balance.

"Influence: Getting Your Work Done Through Others" - this, scary as it may sound, is a class my company offers to all of its employees. This is a class my boss has recently signed up to take. How do I know this? Because I found the enrollment sheet on her desk this morning. And if any of you have ever heard me talk about my boss, you know this is NOT a class that she needs to take. She has already pretty much mastered the fine art of "influence" - so much so, that I wouldn't be surprised if she was teaching the class. Why a company feels the need to offer this class or entitle it this way is beyond me...I'm just worried that they're offering pointers out there to all the big guns and leaving us little pistols to fight against the "influence." I know, I know, I could just as well sign up for the class myself, but really now - who does your work when you're at the bottom of the totem pole? Thank god for strong shoulders.