Wednesday, January 4
I'm sure you've gotten that email that tells you a list of the 10 worst jobs. Well, there is one that is always left off the list, no matter how many incarnations of it you might find.
Personally, I think the worst job imaginable are the actors in the Valtrex commercial.
With the recent desire to have a commercial with a bit of reality by both the pharmiceutical companies and the watcher we can only assume that whether or not these people really have Herpes, they are a threat. After all, that is the trend. Having real spokesmodels for your medication. People who really take it and people who are really helped by it.
These people will never get laid. That is so so sad.
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Tuesday, January 3
Well, the holidays are finally over and all I can say is "ugh". The one downfall to working in the hotel industry is that you are always open for business which means no holidays off. But that didn't stop me from having a good time! And a very good time was had.
Can I put it into words? Probably not, and not just because I cant remember most of it.
OK, I think I am going to be very boring for a little while. What? Me? Very boring? You mean I get more boring than not posting an entry for a few weeks? Ha ha, yeah. I'm exhausted. I certainly have enough to talk about, but god damn it all if I can find the energy to talk.
Since I didn't get to it, here is a list of people who I want to have a very happy New Year:
Tini - May you get that man you've been waiting for.
Rachel - May you get lots of sleep.
Sass - May you reclaim your home.
Johnny - May you get lots of ass.
Joe - May you get a license.
Jamie - May you get lots of ass, preferably mine.
Miles - May you get lots of money.
Jen - May you get lots of Miles's ass.
Bill - May you get you know who.
Amanda - May you get a decent car.
Heidi - May you get more hours.
Rob - May you get a raise.
Jim - May you get a week free of "the boss".
Jeff - May you get a week without awful drunks.
Kim - May you get a week without incorrect time sheets.
Robin - May you get a week, period.
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Monday, January 2
I have to send out many many apologies to those people who have bid on my blog in the last two weeks. My life has been so busy, so chaotic, so crazy I just have not been able to keep up with blog rentals. This is why I am renting my blog as soon as possible.
Normally I rent my blog to the first person on the list when I open it, however, I was a little touched by the message left by ben.run. A very simple and sweet "I hope to win the bid for the this new week!".
Well Ben, you have. I hope the few readers I have do the man some justice and give his blog a visit, and tell him Luin sent you.
Please also visit these fine sites:
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Sunday, December 18
Welcome to my new tenant - One Man bandwidth
Because it is so difficul to chose just one I have always stuck with renting to the first person on my choice list so without further ado, the first, second, third and fourth people to bid for a space on my blog this week:
ONEMANBANDWIDTH
"An American Professor in China"
Nonsensical Flounderings
"Carolyn is American, Mik is English, living in Seattle USA. Just our inane mumblings, meanderings and observations on life, love and any other topic that takes our fancy."
Idiot on a Stick
"I also don't feel a need to give myself a label. You won't find it written that I'm a bitch, or a phobic, or a nutcase. If you read this blog, you'll soon decide what you think for yourself."
The Monaco Manifesto
"Manifesto: A written statement declaring publically the intentions, motives and views of its issuer."
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For as long as I can remember, my Daddy has always been the picture of what a Dad should be. Give up everything for his family, strong, quiet, supportive to the very last drop of himself. He’s been the tank in my life, completely indestructible.
Now he is in the hospital. The man who left the hospital as soon as the drugs wore off after his hernia operation is laid up in bed with all sorts of tubes coming out of his body with pneumonia. And I am scared. For the first time in my life I’ve been hit with the realization that my Daddy is not Superman – no matter how firm my belief that he is may be. That is terrifying.
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