Tell Me Something Good

So I'm back at my original office for the time being until the Corporate Gods grant me my wish and move me to Chicago. Maybe I should sacrifice something, like a goat or perhaps a virgin? I actually tried goat a few weeks back (it was... not great?) at the Indian restaurant down the street, so maybe I could ask them and they can just use it after? Economical and pagan all at once! At any rate, it's probably easier than finding a virgin.

The best part about this office is the satellite radio. Not many people know where the "control room" for it is, so I pretty much get to do whatever I want and generally no one notices unless I put on something like mariachi. I'm pretty pleased that no one's really messed with in in the 5 months I've gone and it's still on this quirky catch-all sort of station. This morning I've heard the Spice Girls, Nick Lowe, No Doubt, Queen, Whitney Houston, and (unfortunately) The Wallflowers. They get into these weird but fabulous grooves from time to time and they'll play late 80's-early 90's dance or house for like 30 minutes and you'll hear Lisa Stansfield, Cathy Dennis, and Betty Boo and then two minutes later it's a block featuring Faith Evans and Total and Monica and En Vogue and then suddenly you're hearing New Order and The Cult. I love it.

And now they've ruined everything with Phil Collins. Why? I'm shaking my fist.

The staff has changed probably like 95% since I've been gone and I think that at least one or two of them thinks I'm new. Like this girl this morning talked to me really slowly and tried to show me where "they put things here." I'm going to allow myself to be amused by it for now.

Tomorrow I've got a library-and-comic-book-store date with my aunt and little cousin in the morning and then I'm seeing the closing performance of MIA, starring the gorgeous and talented Daina Griffith, at the Pittsburgh Playhouse with my (also gorgeous and talented) wifey, Raquel. Sunday, I'm going to serve myself a heaping plate of ham and family dysfunction at my grandmother's. Normal is relative and my relatives aren't normal, but I love most of them.

And that's that.