Nothing about nothing

One of my friends thought I should spend my downtime blogging instead of writing him emails and repeatedly sweeping the kitchen floor with a toothbrush (I swear I am not on meth, I am actually this hyper).  OK, it was the Boi and I think I am bugging him with too much attention.  I tend to do that and he isn’t the first guy I have annoyed (Apologies, former boyfriends! I know I can be a bit much, kind of a like a deep fried Twinkie with a Snickers bar incased in it).  That was so gross, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.  Anyone want to kiss me?

So I am consulting (I totally keep writing “consluting” but thank God for Microsoft!) and am running out of things to do.  I can be a bit of a steamroller at work (surprise!), so I am starting to annoy the hell out of them by analyzing their IT and administration systems.  Everyone appreciates that.  “Why don’t you have a universal email directory?  Want me to make one?”  “Why can’t I print PDFs?  Want me to renegotiate the copier lease?”  “Why don’t you redo your policies to cut down on the churn of FMLA claims?  I can do that!” 

Yeah, everyone appreciates advice on how to do their jobs.  I actually tell new employees in orientation to keep their mouths shut and their ears open the first three weeks if they want to be popular.  And by popular, I don’t mean the kind of “popular” I was in high school.  Yeah, don’t be that kind of popular at work.  By this I mean slut. 

So this week I had the opportunity to catch up with three dear friends.  I sat Shiva with Ariella and Kiam for her father’s death.  It was an awesome ritual and I only hope I honored my mom that much at her wacky Irish/Hawaiian wake.  Ariella told us the story of her father’s life and simultaneously told us the story of the Holocaust, founding of Israel, and the immigrants tale.  Her father sounds like my grandfather who was a second generation Irish immigrant – full of love and gregariousness and light and love and acceptance and swagger.  Kind of like Ariella and Kiam.  Little dude wore two different colored boots to my Easter party and told the adults how to play a fake made up game.  Love me some Kiam! 

I also caught up with the HR Goddess from one of my consulting gigs at Daniels.  (That is the cougar pick up spot, yo!  If I scare the Boi away, you can find me there every night looking for 25 year olds in the construction business.  Yumtastic!)  She has great hair.  I wish I was a blonde so I didn’t have to dye my hair all the time.  (Shit, umm, Boi?  This all a façade.  Botox and hair dye and zip ties are keeping me together.  The shoes are real and nothing says I love you like footwear and real estate.  I figured you should know). 

And, I got to see my hero Larry who convinced me to take this giant leap into the void. 

So last night I had to hoop it out in the park after hh with Maureen.  I started to eat shellfish a few years ago (mostly for the clam chowder) and we shared some crab parts, so my hyper went into gazillion and I had to hoop it out.  I look like a freak, but I don’t care.  It is like dancing with shiny things,  and, therefore, makes me happy, 

So, Boi, I am trying not to overwhelm you, but I need a lot to do or I fall into bad habits.  The Devil will find work for idle hands to do.  Not only a Smith’s song, but also a true-ism.  Someone needs to give me a job now.  A really busy job. 

And, Boi, I love the calls from M and story time and the fact that you wore the Chicken Hat and Bunny Nose and impressed my friends with your hockey skills.  Boi, I like you.  You are in for it, sucka!