;)
Friday
Aug142009
My Parents Went To LA And All I Got Was This Stupid Blog Post
So I've been out of town this week on business, and shut up. No one is laughing harder at that statement than I am. I mean, really, people....the only 'business' I am qualified to conduct is more along the lines of this business, and by qualified, I simply mean I've seen it done on the internet a few times and imagine that I can learn by example. Like crafting the perfect rap video.
I was supposed to go have dinner with The Queen of Spain while I was in town, but it turns out that when you say "I live in LA", that's about as specific as saying, "Oh, I'm right down the road from the Milky Way" and my house is closer to the hotel I stayed in than Erin's is. And Little Miss "I'm too enlightened for credit cards" can't exactly rent a car, so yeah, that didn't happen.
THIS TIME.
I did get to go have dinner with a few close friends while I was away, and the best thing about having kids is that at some point in your life, all your friends have kids, too, so when you go to dinner with them you get to spend an entire evening teaching those kids how to get the plastic lids off off their kids cup and once they've got that down, you can teach them how to blow really huge totally awesome milk bubble towers with their bendy straws and the only downside of that is that you have to suck all the bubbles up from out of their cup before they all fall in your lap because you don't exactly have any other clean jeans for the next day and you just realized that you're fairly certain your dairy allergy has decided to host a revival right in the lining of your intestines and oh my god your stomach. Maybe milk bubbles over the first Mexican food you've had in two years isn't the smartest idea you've ever had. But at least you had a really big hotel bed with tragically fluffy blankets all to yourself to trap the toxic fumes away under, all night long.
Until, of course, you roll over and *whoops* let the air escape from under the blankets. One of my eyeballs actually melted right out of its socket that night.
And then the next day that little girl recorded me a note that just said, "Thank you for blowing milk bubbles with me, tante. I miss you." I seriously doubt her parents echo that sentiment. The fact that I told her she could steal all of Jesus' rocks didn't help either, I'm sure, but that's a story for another day.
All in all, the trip was a success. I pulled off Professional Shannon as well as I could have hoped to, and they even let me sit in a board meeting. And talk. I don't even know who I am anymore. I learned a lot about the job I've been pretending to do for 6 months now, which just means I have to stop pretending and actually do it, so yeah...I screwed myself. Whatever; I can learn how to do that on the internet, too. I learned that in the modern business office, employees can communicate with each other from cubicle to cubicle, from office to office, from continent to continent, simply by logging in to Windows Messenger. I learned this by asking a guy named Tony who was trying to teach me something very important to my job, "Hey, are you im'ing other employees?" He so totally looked at me like I was on crack, or from Canada, and said, "Um...yes?" And that's when I realized that the last time I worked in an office, there was no internet.
And then I took a Geritol and got on with the rest of my work day.
I got everything done I'd hoped to for work, and came home with enough new projects to keep me from blogging for years, so sorry about that but they're paying me and you're not. And I just realized I like shoes. To excess. I didn't get to do a few things I'd have liked to personally, partly because holy shit was I ever busy, but mostly because of this guy.
I saw him in the holding pen at the gate for my departing flight. He had bright red sneakers on and he kept looking at me, probably because I kept looking at him thinking, "Oh, shit, did I sleep with that guy?" because every time I see someone I know but I can't place, I take 3 seconds where I'm all ohmygod did I sleep with him and forget?, which is only funny because yeah, never done that actually. That I can remember. Anyway, I couldn't figure out where I knew him from and then the woman sitting right across from me kind of twitched her head in his direction and mouthed, "Is that who I think it is?" and I thought, "Oh, fuck, did I sleep with both of them and I forgot?" but yeah, see 62 words back.
That's about when I realized he was a celebrity, and he was wearing brightly colored footwear, and that I was hosed. I don't exactly have a great track record with flying, especially when oddly dressed famous people insert themselves into the equation, but I was at the gate, I had my passport, and we were 10 minutes from boarding. I'd make it through the critical stages of my trip and figured I'd gotten lucky this time. Famous last words.
Five minutes after we were supposed to board, they said that something broke on the plane. Not, we're having mechanical problems or we ran out of mixed nuts packets but Something Fucking Broke on the plane that is supposed to hurl us through the atmosphere at decently fast speeds. They said to sit tight for 30 minutes while they figured it out.
45 minutes later, they asked us to move to the next gate down. Which had no plane at the end of the jetway. They said it would be "about an hour", and I said Fuck It and went to Burger King. Because everyone knows what "about an hour" means in airportese and it's not like I stood a chance in hell with the famous actor in red shoes who's name I couldn't remember (and still can't), or even one movie he's been in (and STILL can't) anyway, so why not, really? Extra mayo, please.
I was supposed to go have dinner with The Queen of Spain while I was in town, but it turns out that when you say "I live in LA", that's about as specific as saying, "Oh, I'm right down the road from the Milky Way" and my house is closer to the hotel I stayed in than Erin's is. And Little Miss "I'm too enlightened for credit cards" can't exactly rent a car, so yeah, that didn't happen.
THIS TIME.
I did get to go have dinner with a few close friends while I was away, and the best thing about having kids is that at some point in your life, all your friends have kids, too, so when you go to dinner with them you get to spend an entire evening teaching those kids how to get the plastic lids off off their kids cup and once they've got that down, you can teach them how to blow really huge totally awesome milk bubble towers with their bendy straws and the only downside of that is that you have to suck all the bubbles up from out of their cup before they all fall in your lap because you don't exactly have any other clean jeans for the next day and you just realized that you're fairly certain your dairy allergy has decided to host a revival right in the lining of your intestines and oh my god your stomach. Maybe milk bubbles over the first Mexican food you've had in two years isn't the smartest idea you've ever had. But at least you had a really big hotel bed with tragically fluffy blankets all to yourself to trap the toxic fumes away under, all night long.
Until, of course, you roll over and *whoops* let the air escape from under the blankets. One of my eyeballs actually melted right out of its socket that night.
And then the next day that little girl recorded me a note that just said, "Thank you for blowing milk bubbles with me, tante. I miss you." I seriously doubt her parents echo that sentiment. The fact that I told her she could steal all of Jesus' rocks didn't help either, I'm sure, but that's a story for another day.
All in all, the trip was a success. I pulled off Professional Shannon as well as I could have hoped to, and they even let me sit in a board meeting. And talk. I don't even know who I am anymore. I learned a lot about the job I've been pretending to do for 6 months now, which just means I have to stop pretending and actually do it, so yeah...I screwed myself. Whatever; I can learn how to do that on the internet, too. I learned that in the modern business office, employees can communicate with each other from cubicle to cubicle, from office to office, from continent to continent, simply by logging in to Windows Messenger. I learned this by asking a guy named Tony who was trying to teach me something very important to my job, "Hey, are you im'ing other employees?" He so totally looked at me like I was on crack, or from Canada, and said, "Um...yes?" And that's when I realized that the last time I worked in an office, there was no internet.
And then I took a Geritol and got on with the rest of my work day.
I got everything done I'd hoped to for work, and came home with enough new projects to keep me from blogging for years, so sorry about that but they're paying me and you're not. And I just realized I like shoes. To excess. I didn't get to do a few things I'd have liked to personally, partly because holy shit was I ever busy, but mostly because of this guy.
I saw him in the holding pen at the gate for my departing flight. He had bright red sneakers on and he kept looking at me, probably because I kept looking at him thinking, "Oh, shit, did I sleep with that guy?" because every time I see someone I know but I can't place, I take 3 seconds where I'm all ohmygod did I sleep with him and forget?, which is only funny because yeah, never done that actually. That I can remember. Anyway, I couldn't figure out where I knew him from and then the woman sitting right across from me kind of twitched her head in his direction and mouthed, "Is that who I think it is?" and I thought, "Oh, fuck, did I sleep with both of them and I forgot?" but yeah, see 62 words back.
That's about when I realized he was a celebrity, and he was wearing brightly colored footwear, and that I was hosed. I don't exactly have a great track record with flying, especially when oddly dressed famous people insert themselves into the equation, but I was at the gate, I had my passport, and we were 10 minutes from boarding. I'd make it through the critical stages of my trip and figured I'd gotten lucky this time. Famous last words.
Five minutes after we were supposed to board, they said that something broke on the plane. Not, we're having mechanical problems or we ran out of mixed nuts packets but Something Fucking Broke on the plane that is supposed to hurl us through the atmosphere at decently fast speeds. They said to sit tight for 30 minutes while they figured it out.
45 minutes later, they asked us to move to the next gate down. Which had no plane at the end of the jetway. They said it would be "about an hour", and I said Fuck It and went to Burger King. Because everyone knows what "about an hour" means in airportese and it's not like I stood a chance in hell with the famous actor in red shoes who's name I couldn't remember (and still can't), or even one movie he's been in (and STILL can't) anyway, so why not, really? Extra mayo, please.
I don't know what time it was when we got on the plane, or when we landed in Los Angeles, because I'm too cheap to go to Walmart and buy a watch and the last time I flew, the airplane ate my cell phone, so I never know what time it is anymore, but it was way after when I was supposed to get there and the only thing I needed more than a drink by that point was anything but Burger King, so I went to the first place I found to eat. Which was Marie Callendar's.
And then I took another Geritol and had a great week at a real office doing a real job and laying real mexican farts in a really cozy bed. I didn't see any real boobs, but maybe next trip.
And then I took another Geritol and had a great week at a real office doing a real job and laying real mexican farts in a really cozy bed. I didn't see any real boobs, but maybe next trip.
tagged 
Flying, The Friendly Skies, celebrities, office work, red shoes | in Run on sentences | Permalink
Flying, The Friendly Skies, celebrities, office work, red shoes | in Run on sentences | Permalink 
Reader Comments (43)
Oh come on! Who is the dude with the shoes?
I am going to be up all damn night wondering now. I might have me some milk bubbles and keep MPS up all night screaming 'my melting eyeballs!'.
Cause nothing says 'I love you' like a dutch oven.
Oh, and next time, come to my office. There is a spare desk and we can IM each other. It will be totally awesome and stuff.
OK, I want to guess that it's Joshua Jackson...that guy from Dawson's Creek...and Fringe?
Do I win????
He looks disconcertingly like a not particularly nice person I knew years ago. So now I'm wondering whether it is the same guy, so please someone enlighten me as to the name and what he's been in so that I know whether to hyperventilate for real or not.
Incidentally, I do the 'omg is this someone I had sex with and forgot' every single time I get a text from a number I don't know, or when I'm greeted at a party by someone I don't recognise back, which is faintly ridic since it's not like I've slept with hundreds of people and need an illustrated wall chart to stay on top of it, but that's just the way my mind rolls. It seems a close relative of the syndrom that makes me panic about taxes EVERY SINGLE TIME I see an official looking envelope in the postbox, which also explains my postal phobia.
Anyway. Glad the work thing went well, live long and prosper.
I can't believe you're lactose intolerant.
It's like I don't even know you anymore.
OHMYGODTHATSPACEY!
Yeah, so all I took from this was Joshua Jackson. You should watch Fringe. Good show.
Gotta love those Geritol moments.
OMG, OMG, OMG! I am pretty sure carpot was right, that is Joshua *swoon* Jackson. Um, did you have anything else to say?
That guy is my boyfriend.
Whi in the hell is Joshua Jackson? He doesn't look like anyone other than some guy in an airport to me; I could have been seeing celebrities all along only I just don't know who any of them are.
so. i want to know just what it is that you are doing, and what kind of shoes you plan on buying with the money you make.
I have to be in my van for over an hour from 10:30am, my time, to 11:30am, my time. You should call me so you can tell me about this job. You know you want to. That is if you're even up at that time, friggin left coaster, you!
<3 u Muchly!
If that is Joshua Jackson I will pass out..
No clue who Joshua Jackson is. And I think the odds of spotting real boobs in L.A. are slim and none.
Pacey!!!! Next time you see him, lick him for me!
Okay, so it might be Joshua Jackson, or it might be someone else entirely, whose name I can't remember. Next time you take a mystery celebrity photo, try to catch them when they are not making a little old lady expression. Just sayin'. and Love ya.
I know he's from Vancouver and all, but that pic totally does not look like Joshua Jackson. I know who he is and it never crossed my mind as a possibility. Wow. I think that was the most irrelevant comment I have ever left on here.
Anyway, my favorite part of your trip? Everyone at the company being thoroughly impressed by your skills and prowess. Because there's nothing worse than trying to justify the hiring of "that internet chick friend of yours" when you got nothing to back it up with aside from a business card with you naked on it.
Joshua Jackson...Hmmm that does sound like someone I slept with before...but ya know. I can't remember.
He's on Fringe, and I think he was on Mighty Ducks back in the day too. :)
Regarding the famous actor dude; I've got nothing. Not even a guess.
Congrats on the new shoe fund! Instead of revealing it on here, you could just pacify us with pics of your new footwear. And then we can all hate, er, ADMIRE you from afar. ;)
I have worked in an office very recently. As a programmer. In a tech company. And I am still not down with the IM'ing. In fact, when my husband really wants to cheese me off he messages me with something from 3 feet away, because he knows how much I can't stand it. It's just so...awkward. And weird. And I am clearly O-L-D.
How come you come here for a week and see a swoon-worthy celeb yet I've lived here all my life and NEVER SEEN ONE?
I call bullshit. Or you have secret powers that I just don't possess.
Alternative Option: I just don't pay attention to my surroundings. Hmm. This is much more likely.
The eye-melting mexican fumes is what makes you truly sexy.
I totally slept with him
I thought Joshua Jackson too :) It MUST be true.
Sounds like a whirlwind trip. I can't tell who that guy is from the side. Delayed flights suck.
LOL, Joshua Jackson wears red sneakers!! I don't know why this amuses me.
huh, pacey? hard to tell from that angle. my first thought was either aaron or shawn ashmore:
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0039148/
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0039162/
You totally coulda said, "nice shoes" to Joshua Jackson and he would have looked at you, wondering if you were coming onto him or just crazy and either way, he likely woulda gone for the bait.
Yummy.
I was thinking it was George from Grey's.
and then... I got this email.. from my friend, BD. Who informed me that HE had spent the last few days hanging out. and y'all compared and discussed accents and now, I am depressed and saddened and jealous.
So there. Who cares about famous people and shoes and whatnots.. because YOU were in this country and I didn't get to hang out with you. Demmit.
are you shittin' me? you're in LA and you didn't call???
gah.
I think that guy is the actor on the Geritol commercials. Just sayin' ....
sorry Aunt becky, he is MY boyfriend, in my very rich fantasy life...
Dude. I AM Geritol.
I must be crazy because that does NOT look like Pacey to me.
So you were in L.A. and you didn't tell me? I totally would've driven my ass up there (in my car that should not drive faster than 60 MPH) to come see you. Oh, and I must be lame because even after others recognized the guy in the photo, I still have no idea who the hell he is.
Ok, so I did a little side by side comparison and I do believe that it is indeed Joshua Jackson. He got old! I remember him from a movie called Lonestar State of Mind. I highly recommend it. There is a scene where he's in a clawfoot bathtub with nothing but his cowboy boots and hat on. Very yummy!
I don't know if this will work, but it's worth a shot. If it doesn't, just go here for a picture (http://i33.tinypic.com/24l39c3.jpg)
I dunno guys, I think he might be a Joshua Jackson look-alike! It's in the ears...I was googling pics of Josh and his ears don't have the funky bend partway down. See http://josh-jackson.net/images/albums/Movies/ONE%20WEEK/normal_Joshua-Jackson-One-Week-41-HQ.jpg
I'm pouting because LA is only a few short hours away by freeway or Amtrack. Congrats on the new gig! I've been pondering whether to go back to the land of the working. The idea of sitting in a lobby waiting to interview for a job seems so 1990 to me. But, bills? Need to be paid and the last time I checked there were no strip clubs with close-to-40-year-old-moms-with-stretch-marks-and-saggy-boobs as dancers.
You blowing milk bubbles and actually licking them up and not letting them land on your jeans makes you a very. special. person. I hope you realize that. :-)
Who the hell is Joshua Jackson?
Not sure if it's him or not but speaking of Joshua Jackson, he is in a totally great newish movie One Week, very good! And it's even Canadian!
Sounds like a great trip. Boobs would have topped it off, but a great trip none-the-less.
What company do you work for?
I was thinking maybe it was Sean Astin or Patton Oswalt....
huh, pacey? hard to tell from that angle. my first thought was either aaron or shawn ashmore (from veronica mars, briefly, and the x-men movies. i forget who is who).