Alright, you asked for it....

YSABEL: AN UPDATE

Prologue

It was a dark and stormy night. But not really. The concert season had ended and Ysabel was left with nothing to do at work but file a crapload of papers and forms in an organized and alphabetical manner into the Infernal Wall of File Cabinets. Unfortunately, she has become uncapable of actually doing that sort of mindless activity for more than 20 minutes at a time, as cable television and TiVo have singlehandedly destroyed her once healthy and thriving attention span.

In spite of this, she still manages to go about her daily non-paper-filing-related work duties in a swift and efficient manner, and, hence, is finished with everything that needs to get done by 10:30 in the morning. This means that she is left with 6 1/2 mind-numbing hours with which to do nothing, and yet she must appear as though she is intensely involved in some important project, lest Bossman or Crazy Lunatic Supervisor walk by her desk and realize that she has done nothing but check her email 27 times in the last 5 minutes. Fortunately, this means that she now has more time than ever to appease the ever-growing mob of people that have been harassing her for not updating her blog in an apparently unacceptable time span of two weeks, and can finally update her goddamned blog. Are you happy now??!!

ps. I am 2 hours into the workday and my phone just now rang for the first time this morning. It was a wrong number. Go figure. It seems my usual beloved pack of wild, rabid telephone-wielding symphony patrons have gone into hibernation for the summer.

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Chapter I: Aaah, the office.

IN WHICH I WAX NOT-SO-ELOQUENTLY ON THE BANALITY OF MY DAY-TO-DAY, 9 TO 5 EXISTENCE WORKING FOR A SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA

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Ok, so the story goes that about a week and a half ago, our concert season ended, and I took it upon myself to take a one-week vacation. I promptly high-tailed it out of Knoxville and headed to Seattle for a few days to meet up with Scott so we could partake in some various UW-related music events, look at apartments, state and re-state multiple times to each other how awesome Seattle is, have fits of anxiety about not finding a job there (that last one was just me) and just generally bemoan the fact that we still had two more months until we would finally be living there.

Here's the catch: I couldn't actually tell people at the office that I was going to Seattle, because:

a) Crazy Lunatic Supervisor happens to not only be crazy and a lunatic, but also paranoid. She thinks that everybody who takes time off from work is doing so because they are off searching for a new job and she will literally harass you multiple times a day asking you, "You're not taking time off because you have a job interview, are you?" or "You're not looking for a new job, are you?" so many ridiculous times that you have to muster up all your powers of self-control not to just pick her up and throw her off the nearby bridge in the hopes that she will get eaten by a troll. Never mind that she was kind of right to be paranoid in this instance because I am looking for a new job (ha!) and also right to be paranoid when Cool Co-Worker took the morning off a couple of weeks ago because of a "doctor's appointment," (haha!) and definitely right to be paranoid when Bossman went on vacation for several days without telling anybody where he was going (haha again!). It doesn't change the fact that it's Really. Annoying. when she asks you all those questions.

b) Much of the office staff already knew that Scott just graduated. Most also already had it in the back of their minds that he would be leaving Knoxville in the fall to go to doctoral school, and that I might go with him. Some were also privy to the information that he eventually chose the University of Washington. With that in mind, I knew that some on the staff were intelligent enough to put two and two together and realize what was up if I were to tell them I was going to Seattle during my vacation.

Oh, and remember that I did tell a few people about my devious plan while under the influence of margaritas (Oh, Tequila. You clever little devil...), but that's ok because I knew they (probably?) wouldn't tell anyone else. Needless to say, as far as everyone else in the office was concerned, I was going home to California to visit friends and family. The West Coast is where it's at, folks. For realz. Anyway, close enough, right? That's what I thought. Especially when I came back to work on Tuesday and had to go right to the weekly staff meeting, during which this dialogue took place in front of the entire staff:

Bossman: "So, how was your vacation?"

Me: "Awesome."

Clueless coworker: "Now, where exactly did you go again?"

Me: (gulp) "Um, back West...?"

Staff: "Awwwww, that's nice."

Me: (phew)

In any case, the office was sweet enough to throw me a little birthday party during the staff meeting, even though it was nearly one week after the fact. I would like to think that it was because, in the brief time that I've been working here, they've come to respect and appreciate my position as a pleasant and valuable member of the staff. But I know that it's really because they will use any excuse to get away from their desks and eat cake at 9:30 in the morning.

* * *

Chapter II: This one's for you, Robin.

IN WHICH I MAKE IT CLEAR THAT SEATTLE ROCKS HARD AND MY MOVING THERE MAKES ME EVEN THAT MUCH COOLER THAN YOU

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Reasons why Ysabel is moving to Seattle:

• Because she likes Scott. A lot.
• Because she will have more opportunites to develop as a musician there.
• Because the clarinet teacher at UW wears short shorts on his professional website.
• Because - all talk of seasonal depression aside - the conditions there are quite temperate and when the temperature is 82 degrees, it actually feels like it's 82 degrees, not like you're standing on the surface of the sun and the air is so thick you can hardly breath, but it wouldn't matter if you could or not anyway because your face is about to melt off.
• Because she also likes Scott's cat, Bela. A lot.
• Because she will be only one 2-hour, nonstop plane ride from her family, rather than an 8-10 hour, 1 or 2 stop airborne nightmare.
• Because she needs to get the hell out of Knoxville.

Reasons why Seattle rocks hard:

• Because there's water everywhere!
• Because you can drive to Vancouver in a few hours and cross the Capilano Suspension bridge and eat buffalo burgers.
• Because the oysters there are abundant and delicious.
• Because they're liberal!
• Because they're so liberal that, even while living in the holy birthplace of Starbucks, most of them don't like going to Starbucks because it's too corporate (I, of course, will still remain true to my passion, however blasphemous that may make me there).
• Because they're so liberal that I actually felt like a stuffy conservative when I went to visit last week!
• Because, not only do they have "The Da Vinci Code" in theaters, they also have "The Da Kinki Code" at the Lusty Lady.
• Because I will once again be living in a city that doesn't allow smoking in public establishments (sorry, Ben).
• Because I can ease off my allergy medication there, I think.
• Because it's on the West Coast, where I belong!
• Because I could go on forever, but I won't.

Reasons why my moving there makes me that much cooler than you:

• Ummm...it just does, ok?

* * *

Chapter III: Because 3 chapters feels better than 2.

IN WHICH I SPOUT OFF A NUMBER OF RANDOM THOUGHTS IN MY BRAIN LIKE I SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOING ON THIS BLOG FOR THE PAST 2 WEEKS

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So a couple of days ago, I was eating some leftover office cake at my desk when Crazy Lunatic Supervisor came over and said, "You eat sweets more than anyone I know and you stay so little! ...But that's ok because I didn't start getting big until I hit 40." To which I had two replies: #1 (the actual one): "Yeah, it'll probably catch up to me. But until then...," and #2 (the one in my head): "Even if I eat nothing but oatmeal raisin cookies and iced coffees from Starbucks for the rest of my life, I am at least not a crazy, paranoid loon, so please don't imply that I will end up anything like you at forty. Ew."

Either I am all of a sudden paying for it for slacking off on my allergy medication for several weeks, or I am getting a cold, but I have been sneezing at like 40 BPM all morning. I hit up my Advair last night, but it might be a case of too-little too-late. Speaking of allergies, do you ever rub your eyes so hard when their itchy that you get scared one of them might pop out? I do. When I was little, somebody (probably an evil sibling) told me that Raul Julia (you know, from Addam's Family) once rubbed his eyes so hard that he accidentally popped one of his eyeballs out of its socket and he had to pop it back in. Gross. That stuff sticks with you. Now everytime I rub my eyes I have to tell myself to ease up a little bit so I don't have to pop my eyeball back in.

Ben (i.e. my Daddy #1) is leaving Knoxville in exactly one week. This turns my blackened heart so much more dark and stone-like that if I were to stick it up some un-named orifice, it would turn into a diamond. And then I would use the money I gained from selling that diamond on Ebay to hire stealthy ninjas to kidnap him and take him to Seattle. Or just buy some plane tickets to visit him. Whichever. Anyway, Ben: You've been pretty much my best friend here in Knoxville and I'm going to miss you tremendously. I will need to call you periodically to engage in some phone you-know-what (Don't think dirty thoughts. It involves the clarinet, I swear...). And don't forget that before you go, we need to pull off the single greatest food event East Tennessee has ever seen : The United Nations Food Fest!*

Seriously, my allergies are out of control. I want to pop my nose off my face and put it in a nice, soothing warm milk bath. And then throw my eyeballs in there while I'm at it because they are red and itchy. What is this thing with body parts popping out of my face today?

You know what my current favorite-television-show-of-all-time is (except for the perennial The Simpsons which will forever and always occupy the top space)? The Office. It touches me deeply in places I never knew existed in my soul until I started working my current job. I want a Dwight bobble-head to put on my desk. If you don't already, you need to start watching it. Doing so, much like listening to the Dvorak Cello Concerto, will make you a better, more attractive human being.

Ok, so I just got back from a walk to the mailbox down the street and in the process of doing so, was whistled at twice by a couple of shower-deprived gentlemen. If I weren't already fully aware of the fact that I am completely fabulous, this would have done wonders for my self-esteem. Also, I walked by another shower-deprived not-so-gentleman who was literally pee-ing right there on the sidewalk. And on that note....

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Epilogue

IN WHICH I SAY TO ALL OF YOU: "OK, I'VE GONE AND DONE IT. ARE YOU SATISFIED? I BETTER GET SOME GODDAMNED COMMENTS OUT OF THIS."

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Ok, it's now 2:40 in the afternoon and I've actually been working fairly consistently without having to go anywhere near the damned wall of file cabinets. Huzzah! Unfortunately, I've finished most everything else I can possibly do except for file those papers away. Which is my cue to take my lunch break and think of other productive things to do that don't involve inserting things in alphabetical order into a cabinet. And don't say

1) check my email

2) check my Myspace

3) read the news on msn.com

4) read all of the other blogs linked from this one

5) go to the bathroom and reapply my lipgloss for the 10th time

6) go to the kitchen to get some (more) coffee

7) go to the kitchen to check on the office cake situation

8) finish the minutes from last month's Board meeting

9) read about the new Kings head coach

10) check my email again.

Because I've already done all those.

* * *

THE END

* In which we hit up as many restaurants as we possibly can in one day in an attempt to sample all the cuisines of the countries represented in the United Nations. Don't ask why, just learn to accept. And join in if you like.