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Friday, February 1, 2013

F*#k It Friday

As part of my job I have to come up with clever little social media slogans and campaigns like "Moon Pie Monday" or "Hangover Wednesday." I decree today to be "Fuck It Friday" and I'm posting pictures of everyone who needs an attitude adjustment on my work Facebook. NO, not really. But if I did, it would include a picture of myself.

I've made myriad work and social faux pas all week and I'm really kinda proud of myself for how much embarrassment I can handle. I've sent emails with the wrong dates to the wrong people and mixed up details  like only the newest intern could. I blame Super Gras.

Last night our friend who v. sadly is moving away was telling us about a sub division in her new town where they might buy. And without thinking, I blurt out "Sub division?!?" in horror. Like my second-story apartment is a frickin' palace and why would anyone want a house with an actual yard and a parking spot? So to apologize, I've made a pros list of sub divisions vs. Uptown New Orleans:

Sub division:
Big house
Big yard
Garage to store tools and kegs
A place to park
Trees
Less dog poop
Possibly gated and secure
Friendly neighbors

My apartment on Prytania Street:
Big House, half of which I get to rent for what should be an illegal amount of $
Decent yard but next to raised house with no cover so dog can run under house and then escape to front of house to be squished on Prytania Street or stolen by mean neighbors
Storage under house (with no cover from the elements and cats)
NO Frickin' close place to park EVER and this makes me crazy
There are some trees
Lots of dog poop not made by my dog
No gate and no security from teenagers selling "magazine subscriptions" and people who throw up on flower baskets
LOTS of neighbors in all shapes and sizes and temperaments, not all of them pleasant

But we are:
right off the parade route
within walking distance to several awesome bars
in Uptown New Orleans

We met a guy from NYC who is living in DC who showed me a video of the Inauguration (you have no idea how many times I had to type that word before I got the spelling right) and parade from his office window. I was like, "yeah, that's cool. But where are the costumes? Who's that guy? Is he the King of the parade?"

Going back to Fuck It Friday, here's how I started it today:
I had do the weekly long run by myself this morning because all my friends have, like, lives or something. And I'm chugging through about mile 5 and my phone rings. I recently got a new phone which I still really don't know how to work. (side note: I ran into my co-worker's office yesterday laughing my head off at something Seri replied and she was like, "yeah, my kids love that." Like I'm the last dumbass on earth to discover this feature). So my phone rings and I'm listening to music and I can't figure out to pause the song before the call ends. I don't recognize the number but I somehow call the person right back while at the same time, the worst song ever comes on the Spotify station I'm listening to. So I hit the thumbs down and then say, "yes, improve my fucking station."

And a voice replies, "Samantha?"

And I'm like "Mother f'er!" I have called back the anchor of the show one of our people is appearing on this morning and said to her, "Yes, improve my fucking station."

Fortunately, she has a great sense of humor. Happy Fuck It Friday! (Sorry for all the f bombs!)