And another ten days passes without posting...sigh. I wish I could say that I was out living it up and rocking out, but I've been either working or hopped up on Benadryl.
If you've known me for a while, you were around for the great painful welt incident in winter 2001 and the allergic rash incident in 2004 complete with my favorite 'roid, Prednisone. This week marked the beginning of Itchy Painful Welts 2007. I had an allergic reaction to something that is, at this point, still unknown and broke out in hives and an itchy rash EVERYWHERE. It was horrible, so I met a dermatologist at the hospital, had him take a look at me, had him determine -- AGAIN -- that I am allergic to something AGAIN, and then had him give me a topical steroid. Yes, topical. I guess the medical community frowns on giving oral 'roids if they're not needed, so for most of the week, I've been dousing myself in something with the same texture and consistency as Vaseline. Gross. Along with that, I was given a ton of Benadryl to take and ended up sleeping through most of "work at home" day on Tuesday. I woke up with my face against the keyboard, drooling. Totally and remarkably hot. And oh, did I mention that this is the busiest time of the year at work? So, not only do I get to deal with the shame of being the freakshow on Floor 2 covered in greasy welts, but I'm also falling asleep because of the medication, so I'm the unproductive, useless, good-for-nothing freakshow on Floor 2 covered in greasy welts. :-(
After a few days of feeling sorry for myself and covering myself in grease, I'm now feeling and looking a little bit better. It's remarkable what a good whine will do for you.
I'm spending the weekend in the burbs because YG and I are taking the MG to a dance tonight, and I'll get to meet the MG's mother for the first time. I'm trying to pretend like I'm cool and collected and not nervous at all, but I am. I feel this unbelievable pressure to be perfect, to say the right things, to not make waves -- in a sense, act completely unlike myself -- so that I don't upset this woman. It gives me a little glimpse into what it must have been like to be YG for so long, and that makes me very sad. I'm trying to remember all those lessons that I used to give to executives when I did media training, and stick to them. Our main rule was "Be pleasant and a little bit boring." I have no doubt that I can be a little bit boring. I can be quite a pro. Pleasant? Eh...not so much. Interesting is probably the best word to describe how this night will be.
In other news, I finished my book: God's Politics. I highly recommend it, and loved it. I'm now reading Reading Lolita in Tehran. I bought it a while ago because it seemed like everybody was reading it, and I thought it would be entertaining in an embarassing DaVinci Code sort of way. But I'm impressed. The memoir part is interesting, but I really like what she has to say about the books. I ended up flipping through The Great Gatsby the other night after reading one of her critiques. I love books about books. When I am independently wealthy, I am going to read, read, read all the time and have tons of rooms filled with books and magazines. That part of my childhood dream has never died.
Listening to: a lot of Joshua Radin and some old Clash stuff. And eagerly anticipating the new Shins album on MONDAY! I'm embarassed to admit that I made a ridiculous playlist for driving home from work this week -- I've been working late and feeling nasty (see above: grease) -- that includes Motorhead, AC/DC, Twisted Sister and Poison. So if you saw a crazy lady in the parking lot of the Fresh Pond Whole Foods screaming out all the lyrics to "Talk Dirty to Me," that was me. I am a sad, sad human being.
What else? Not much. Work and steroids pretty much sums it up. Oh, and wasting two hours of my life watching this on Lifetime because I thought, or hoped, it might have something interesting to say. Note to self: Lifetime Television for Women = BAD.
I'm looking forward to the next couple of weeks flying by and getting my "reward" weekend in Napa. Later.