It's Official

I have spring fever. MAJOR spring fever. I can't focus. Let's see how many hours I have billed thus far today...2.5 hours. I have been here 6 hours. This is bad. Very bad. Why am I here? Why have none of my friends heeded my hookey call?

Good Day, Sunshine!

Today is absolutely gorgeous. It is supposed to be near 70 farenheit. For those celcius folks, I have no clue what the equivolent is. I really need to figure out that calculation. At any rate, I am listening to some Bach, gazing longingly at my car in the parking lot wishing I could just cut outta hear and drive. Where would I drive to? Who knows, just drive, feel the wind in my hair with good tunes playing on my system, and a friend or two along for the ride. We could get bubble tea and end up where ever Eunice (that's my car) takes us. A nice park perhaps. Or a patio. Anywhere but right here. Funny thing, I was with 2 of my friends last night and I suggested we play hookey today. Why didn't we?! It's a perfect day for such an endeavor. Tomorrow is going to be fabulous too. Guys, help me out here. Please. It is not immature, it is for my mental sanity and health. And yours too. Hear my call. I can't do it alone - not nearly as fun. We could go to the place I am house-sitting at and bar-b-que, sip some delicious wine or an ice cold beer or mojitos and lay in the sun, then go watch the sunset over the snow-capped Rockies. Damn it, duty calls...

Meet Sydney

My office has a new team member, courtesy of me. His name is Sidney and he is a beautiful beta fish. Why name him Sidney? You would ask. That is the name of the head Bankruptcy Court Judge and well, I wanted my attorneys to have an "ace in the hole" as they say. How can you rule not in favor of us if there is a dedicated staff member with a handsome, vibrant fish named in your honor, Your Honor. And she hasn't even met you. I have posted a picture of what Sydney looks like, for the most part. He has red on the bottom, but not as much as this picture. Sydney is happy, and thankfully, I have a 15 day warranty on him so if he goes to meet the big beta fish in the sky, I can replace him with a different fish...

Rock, Paper, Scissors

Guess what. There are good, kind people in this world. I forgot my beautiful Cashmina scarf at this restaurant a couple weeks ago and finally remembered to go pick it up after work today. I found a parking space on the street nearby, went into the restraunt, thanked the manager after he brought me the scarf and walked out. As I was walking towards my car, I saw the meter guy giving me a ticket. Doh! Here is the run down upon my approach to my car:
Me: Hi.
Meter Man (MM): Hi. Is this your car?
Me: Yes. I was just picking up my scarf from that restraunt.
MM: Well, are you aware that you have to pay to park in Cherry Creek now?
Me: No. (Glance at sign that clearly states one must pay until 7PM). What time is it?
MM: It's 6:44.
Me: Oh, I see.
MM: Once we start entering the ticket, we have to issue it.
Me: Ok.
MM: I am one of 2 people who do this job who knows how get out of issuing a ticket. But you have to do something.
Me: Oh.
MM: You have to beat me at a game of rock paper scissors.
Me: Just once or best 2 out of 3.
MM: Just once. Ready? (I nod). Go.
We hit our fists on our hands, 1-2-3. We both do rocks.
MM: Tie, ready?
I nod and we do it again. 1-2-3. Both scissors.
MM: Ok, here goes..
1-2-3. My fist stays rock, he has scissors, I win.
MM: Have a nice night!
Me: Really?! Thank you!!

Yup folks, I seriously got out of a parking ticket by playing rock, paper, scissors. Cruz witnessed the whole thing because she was on the phone with me (I have a Blue Tooth so he didn't know I was on the phone). She asked if I just got out of a ticket by playing rock, paper, scissors. I did. Thank you, Meter Man.

Subaru Brats

Do you remember those divinely inspired vehicles known as Subaru Brats? They had a surprisingly long manunfacture life of 1978-1994! Wow, I had forgotten the vehicles exsisted until I was driving back to work and saw some creep driving like a total a**h*le in my review mirror. Upon seeing that his vehicle was a Brat, it all made sense to me. If I were driving some crappy "truck" with the word BRAT down the side, I would dive like that too. For those of you who have never seen this illustrious machine, I strongly encourage you to google Subaru Brat. My dear friend, Cruz, did for she had never seen one, and now fully understands my sentiments. It also caused her to chuckle a bit. I have included a pic for your viewing enjoyment

Crap! Last blog MIA!

My last blog posted, then I edited it and now, it's gone! So here is synopsis of what was said: I had a conversation with an Anonymous Friend (AF) at happy hour on Thursday that I never thought I would have. Proceed at your own risk and remember: we are talking about a martini...

AF: I think I'll try a pearl necklace
Me (a few minutes later): How's the pearl necklace?
AF: Not as good as I thought it would be. Do you want to taste it?
Me: Sure! (tastes) Oooh, you're right, it doesn't taste very good.

So I realize 2 very important things on Friday. 1. Mr. Sushi has not called me. 2. I don't care. Damn was he h-o-t-t. Yes, you read right, hott with 2 ts. That is when you know he is finer than fine.

Right now, I am cooking homemade focacia bread with rosemary, goat's milk cheese and carmelized onions. Smells delicious. It has taken the majority of the afternoon to make, but hopefully it will be worth it. I even made the caramelized onions myself. My apartment smells simply divine. Not like cat. I forget how much I love making home-made dough. There is something calming about kneeding the blob that will soon be your nourishment. I also made some tasty egg salad. Yum, in my quest to eat better, I have discovered that it takes a f*cking lot of preparation. Hopefully it will be worth it.

My good friend told me my apartment smelled like my cat on Friday night. I am glad he told me, but I must admit I am devestated that my apartment would smell like anything but inviting. Cat is not a good smell. Neither is poop, old dirty laudry or mold. Thankfully I have rectified the situation. What scares me most about this is that I didn't notice. Do I smell like cat?

L'amore e il paradiso

I know you all have been dying to see what fantastic italian phrase my monthly Buff Gondolier is teaching me and there you have it as the title of this entry. According to the translation, it means "love is heaven". I want to know: who thinks that, seriously.