Digi-Scene

“Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so? There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.” - Drew Carey

I don't HATE my job, I just don't LOVE it. Is that a fine enough distinction? Makes me wish I drank...

"Our wounds are our uniqueness"

I may actually change my mind about network television after last night.

I happened to catch the last 10 minutes of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, and was pleasantly surprised both at the quality of the writing and the quality of the acting. Sometimes when Hollywood gets a little too self-referential, it's kind of off-putting to the majority of us who aren't in on the joke.

It's amazing the number of quality stars that are in this show and even the bit parts that come together so effortlessly.

Monday Night Football may have a run for its money in this household.

Congratulate me on 5 full days of working out at the gym this week. I'm off to celebrate with a plate of chocolate chip cookies...

Dooce put up a post today, asking about our experiences with dating and what were deal breakers for us in the men we dated. After reading over a hundred comments, Kaitlin Duck Sherwood (I wish she had put in the URL for her blog if she has one), said exactly what I wanted to...

"I used to think that I had specific deal-breakers: no smokers, no fatties, nobody who had completely different political or religious convictions, etc. But what I found is that those are really preferences, and don't really matter nearly as much as being kind/considerate.

Note that he needs to be kind/considerate to everyone/thing, and that manifests itself in many ways, most of which have been detailed above.
+ If he's considerate of himself, he's not likely to be addicted to food, drugs, or alcohol.
+ If he's considerate of me, he's likely to modify his personal appearance and/or grooming habits to suit me (and won't beat me).
+ If he's considerate of other people, he's not likely to be divorced, feuding with his parents, or rude to service personnel.

Being crazy about me also is a big plus. If I don't absolutely thrill him, he should find someone else. (Note: I believe the tshirt that says, "I am somebody's fantasy". The trick is finding that someone.)

Now, after ten years of being deliriously happy with my husband, I'm much less willing to believe in absolute deal-breakers in case I were widowed. (Okay, I should admit that death is a complete deal-breaker.) If I had to go out looking again, it would be *easier* if he were physically gorgeous and had great teeth and dental hygine and loved what he did and didn't care about the money and shared my political and religious tastes, but those are far, far less important than whether he is kind."

Amen, sister.

I wish I believed in astrology. Wouldn't it be nice to have a daily map to what was in store for you on any given day? I think it might make the decision about whether to get out of bed or not an easier one.

Since this is my horoscope for Thursday, what's the answer? Do I get out of bed in the morning or not?

"You can quip and converse with the best of them. If someone wants to get into some deep issues, reschedule for later. Right now witty repartee is your forte. Profound topics could confuse you both."

Sounds like I should skip work tomorrow and start the day with happy hour instead.

"I'll marry when everyone can marry," declared Brad Pitt this week. Am I the only cynic out there that thinks that rather than being a moving voice of solidarity for same-sex marriage, this sounds gratingly like a commitment phobic divorced man?

I guess in this day and age even prenups aren't good enough anymore to get a man to the altar. Instead, women will have to alter the course of western civilization first. I say that because in all honesty I doubt it will be men who will be out there stumping for the cause so that they can finally marry their woman.

If she puts up with this load of horse pucky, Angelina deserves her man. Married or not.

While lying in bed early this morning and listening to the news on the clock radio, I had this great idea for a blog entry. I wrote a good deal of it in my head as I lay there and when the radio went off, I promptly fell back to sleep.

Obviously I lost my beautifully well-thoughtout piece when I reentered dreamland and started dreaming about being a professional synchronized swimmer. I wish I could remember my original blog entry so you wouldn't be forced to hear about my synchronized swimming career.

I'll spare you anyway.

I feel like I'm back in college.

I work around people who have worked in the marketing department of my company, for, well...FOR -EV- ER. They also have the coolest corporate chatchki's laying about their cubicles, just ripe for the picking. Why do I only have the urge to break commandment #8 on the list of the 10 commandments when it's a stupid corporate button that says "I Love Jaz" or an old Pets.com sock puppet?

Everyone else's dorm room (read: cubicle) has so much cooler decorating stuff than mine. They have signed memorabilia from the short time that Boomer Esiason was a company spokesperson and I'm relegated to displaying an ugly travel mug of a product we scrapped 9 months after launching.

Will I ever be cool enough to warrant having the groovy chatchki's? Answer me, dammit....

Do I really want to create and give Microsoft Presentations for a living? And travel? And work in a truly hip downtown office?

Showtime is this afternoon at 5:15 pm. Wish me luck...

My sister, her husband and my 5 year-old niece have been vacationing in Cabo San Lucas this week and unfortunately were unable to evacuate ahead of Hurricane John that is spinning towards them as I write this.

Please, dear God, keep them safe and help Nicole not to be afraid. Oh, and I guess thanks are in order that I work for a big, bad company that wouldn't allow me to take vacation so I'm not there with them...