Countdown!

Hi. I'm still alive. You will please forgive me for not updating this blog in a while. I've been busy sitting on the couch and eating bad food and procrastinating about the Big Move. And going to cool hipster bars in Market Square and watching a slightly disappointing burlesque show while drinking gin and whisky (not at the same time). Oh, and attending a fabulous going away party* (Thanks Heather!! You are awesome!!!) also attended by one especially cool surprise guest (Benhamin!! Yayyy!!). So, as you can see, I've clearly been busy doing Everything Possible But Actually Getting Ready to Move Across the Country in Less Than A Week.

...That is, until today, when I've packed up the kitchen, a good amount of the living room, some clothes and some of the bathroom. Whee! Packing itself, I've found, is not sooo much of a pain. The loading of the U-Haul tomorrow, however, in disgusting Southern summer heat and general climatey grossness will surely be a b*tch. But here's the thing: a hellish day of loading tomorrow, followed by about 5 days of hellish cross-country driving madness, and I will be officially living in Seattle (or the vicinity thereof) in exactly one week!

Aaaaah!!!


* Hilarious recaps and potentially incriminating photos of said party to be posted at a later date. Maybe tomorrow if I feel like procrastinating with the truck loading.

Apparently being unemployed has given my subconscious too much free time...

Have you ever woken up terrified because you just had a nightmare that left you shaken up...but then later on in the day you thought back on it and it was actually something really silly? Comical, even? This morning I woke up in a sweat because I had an honest-to-God nightmare in which an evil entity was threatening to kill everybody and I was the only one who could save the world. Did I mention that the evil entity was SNL's Kevin Nealon? And that I could switch between being a cute wittle kitty cat and Lisa Simpson? This can only mean one thing: one too many hotdogs before going to bed at 2 in the morning...

***

Ok, now it's 3am and I can't sleep. Thankfully I haven't had any nightmare hotdogs today. I am left with only one more decent hour of The Food Network left to watch before it all goes to the dreaded ...Paid Programming. Bah. Oh, and by the way, just so you alll know: I made a pact with myself about 15 minutes ago that I am going to take myself on a trip somewhere fabulous next year. I don't know where and I don't know how, but it's going to happen. Mark my words. Thanks, Joan. Anyway, more on this development at a later point. After I've thought through some more details (Namely: In which I have a heart to heart with myself and ask, "What, you think money grows on trees?!"). In any case, until next time...Ich bin Blitz!!!

What Type of Weather Are You?

You Are Lightning

Beautiful yet dangerous People will stop and watch you when you appear Even though you're capable of random violence You are best known for: your power Your dominant state: performing

A barista's work is never done...

My third official day of unemployed uselessness found me taking a trip to Super Target in the Turkey Creek shopping center. My goal was to 1) purchase and consume an iced caramel macchiato and 2) purchase a lounge robe. The proper way to say this is "louunnnge robe." While we were browsing around Target one day not too long ago, I told Scott that I wanted a robe. This prompted him to ask incredulously, "Why would you want a robe?!" And I responded, "Look. Sometimes after you take a shower you don't want to put on clothes, but you don't want to walk around naked either." To which he replied, "Oh. Point well made." So there.

And especially in my current state, in which I find myself with no real reason to put together any sort of well-thought-out ensemble at any point during the day, I think a nice, comfy lounge robe would be the perfect final step in my near-instant transformation from working woman to useless lump of flesh on couch. Unfortunately, I couldn't find a robe that was both comfortable, cute and not made for a 6-foot tall giantess. You know, something that won't make me look and feel like a 26 year old member of the Golden Girls. And one that is also within my budget (i.e. just a hair above free). So no lounge robe for Ysabel yet. But the search continues...

Also, I went to the Starbucks kiosk (Located within the Super Target, thank you very much. Now you know why it's my version of The Happiest Place on Earth!) to purchase my Grande iced caramel macchiato. I observed the barista start off by pouring some frappucino mix into my cup and, needleess to say, I spent the next ten minutes explaining to the poor woman the proper way to make an iced caramel macchiato. "Um, I'm sooorry...I'm pretty sure a caramel macchiato should be with milk and espresso..." It seems she was new and the other person working with her had just left to take a break.

Just so you know, the correct way is to put 3 pumps of Vanilla syrup, then fill with whole milk to the first green line, top with a Grande scoop of ice, then pour two shots of espresso over , and finally garnish with caramel syrup in the classic Star*ucks 7 + 7 criss-cross and swirl pattern. Except that I am a Star*ucks snob and ordered it with 2 pumps of Vanilla syrup, 2% milk and decaf espresso. Anyway, the young barista grasshopper was very thankful that I was patient with her and shared with her my Star*ucks wisdom. She should be glad that I didn't order my more usual cold beverage: A Grande iced 2-pump decaf soy no-whip white mocha. God, is it possible to love and hate yourself at the same time for the very same reason??

ps. The other night I dreamt that I was one of the Hilton sisters (I couldn't tell if it was Nicky or Paris) and that I was being interviewed on TV and the interviewer asked me why my sister and I had such a good relationship and I replied, "Well, when we were growing up, our mom would put things that the other person really liked into our mouths so that we would always stay close to each other." And then I woke up. WTF?

It's Monday and I'm not at work!

And what have I accomplished with my day thus far? Let's see:

1. Slept in til 10 am.

2. Flipped between The View, E! News, Ellen, and reruns of Gilmore Girls and Will & Grace all within the same hour.

3. Cleaned the kitchen.

4. Ran the dishwasher.

5. Cleaned and vacuumed the living room.

6. Ate a slice of Star*ucks iced lemon pound cake and two hotdogs for breakfast.

7. Showered before lunchtime.

I'm on quite a roll. Truth be told, however, I think I've finally reached that point in my life when being able to sleep in and do whatever you want with your day just isn't as satisfying as it used to be. Did you hear that, Mom and Dad? The day has come! Hahaha. Anyway, vacations are one thing, but an indefinite period of unemployment (i.e. un-paycheck-ment) is a whole new story. Can't wait to get to Seattle and figure out what the hell to do with myself there.

But in the meantime, I hear some Seinfeld reruns calling my name...

Signing off!

...As a gainfully employed person, anyway.

Waaaaah!!!

Well, as you may have gathered, this will be my last official post as the Patron Services Coordinator/Executive Assistant/Office B*tch for the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra. It was fun while it lasted. Or to be more precise, getting a regular paycheck was fun while it lasted. *sigh* But I have every confidence that something will come up in Seattle that will be even bigger and better and allow me to continue my unhealthy Star*ucks and chez Target addiciton. Right? Right??!!

In any case, next time you hear from me I will be newly unemployed and well on my way to becoming destitute. Just kidding about that last part. I hope. In the meantime, the office is throwing me a going away party in T minus 2 hours and 56 minutes, where there will be much office cake-eating and perhaps some boozing going on. Huzzah!

Hurray!......?

This is my last week of guaranteed work.

I am training my replacement the entire week.

She is cool and very much like me (simultaneously highly efficient and lazy).

We've already both confessed to each other our affinity for spending countless hours at work doing non-work-related activities at the computer.

The point of all this is that I will be unable to do much (if any) bloggingy-goodness at the office this week as I will have a shadow by me at nearly all times.

My apologies.

Most updating for the remainder of this week will be done at home in the brief few moments before bedtime when I am only half conscious.

Hence, the fractured thoughts and lack of paragraphical organization in this post.

My apologies again.

In any case, look forward to an indeterminate period of Ysabel-no-longer-blogging-about-her-office-antics-and-now-blogging-about-her-state-of-pennilessness-and-destitution.

But at least I will be in Seattle, baby.

Yeah.

Also, I have been driving my car for two days now with not one menacing buzz to be heard.

Victory is mine!

2.5 weeks until the cross-country drive...

Fie on me!

Last year, I forgot to wish my niece Kat a Happy Birthday. I had to do it a day late on my blog. Here is a reminder of my incompetence.

This year, I did it again.

I am the worst aunt ever!

My excuse is that I am still be too traumatized by the evil beemonster that is awaiting me in my car's driver's side air conditioning vent to think of anything else. Also, as I explained to She Who Spawned The World's Most Awesome Niece Ever (i.e. my sister) in an email just 5 minutes ago because it is now too late to call, I have eaten nothing today but a leftover Taco Bell burrito, a peanut butter and honey sandwich, two corndogs, two Krispy Kreme donuts, a tall decaf (ugh) soy 2-pump no-whip white mocha and a lot of Diet Coke. Therefore, my insides are currently rotting themselves away and the blood supply to my brain has been compromised. And that's why I completely forgot to call and wish Kat a Happy Birthday.

Buuut, better one hour and 56 minutes late than never! So...

BZZZ.

So I was climbing into my car in the office parking lot yesterday afternoon, absolutely brimming with energy because 1) it was Thursday, I had just finished work, and I didn't have to come into the office the next day, which meant my weekend had officially begun and 2) I had eaten nothing but 4 glazed Krsipy Kreme donuts, a Panera bagel, leftover 4th of July Mystery Office Carrot Cake and coffee during the course of the workday and, hence, could no longer feel my face. As I climbed into my vehicle, I could see -- seemingly in slow motion -- out of the corner of my eye, a gigantic killer bee fly into my car right before I pulled the door shut.

My sugar-overloaded heart instantly froze as I found myself sitting in the driver's seat staring right into the cold stare of this giant beemonster and, when my brain finally kicked in about 3 seconds later, I literally kicked my door open while screaming at the top of my lungs and jumped back out into the safety of the parking lot.

I looked back inside my car and saw my would-be murderer planted there right on my steering wheel, it's wings all splayed out, in full-on attack mode. In my panic, I picked up the first thing I could find that could be used as a weapon of defense, which, in this case, was a disgusting old disease-ridden single flip-flop that some poor, now one-shoe-less chap had left behind in the parking lot. As I held the shoe gingerly between two fingers I crept towards the giant bee and with a shriek Aiiiiiieeeeee!!! ... SWATTED THE LIVING HELL OUT OF IT!!!

With an uneasy sense of victory, I inspected both the interior of my car and the surrounding parking lot asphalt surrounding it. As I crouched over to try and find evidence of a dead beemonster, ringing my hands, whimpering and talking to myself, I looked over my right shoulder to see a young gentleman walk by me with his eyebrow cocked and a puzzled (concerned?) expression on his face. I thought for a second about trying to explain my situation to him -- I'm not crazy! I swear! -- but I figured that even the most truthful and accurate explanation wouldn't convince him of my sanity. "There was a bee in my car and it almost ate my face!" Anyway, I unfortunately couldn't find any evidence of the beemonster anywhere, neither inside nor outside my car. So, about 5 minutes of self-convincing later, I hesitatingly climbed back into my car to try and make the drive home without having a nervous breakdown.

I made it through downtown and onto Cumberland Ave. and had just about calmed myself down completely when I heard this:

"BZZ."

.....What the hell was that?

* Drive 2 blocks down Cumberland Ave. *

"BZZ."

* Eep! *

* Drive 3 blocks down Cumberland Ave. *

"BZZ."

OhmyGod!!OhmyGod!!OhmyGod!!OhmyGod!!OhmyGod!!

Anyway, after a few more blocks down Cumberland Ave. I couldn't take it anymore and pulled into -- no joke -- a Star*ucks parking lot because I needed to be in a place of comfort, whereupon I swiftly kicked my door open again and jumped out of my car again and started jumping nervously around periodically peeking inside and trying to figure out where the beemonster was hiding. It was only after about 5 minutes of this -- while screaming over the phone at Heather trying to explain my current situation -- that I realized that I had been making a spectacle of myself in front of several passing Star*ucks customers. Not that I cared since my face had nearly been eaten off by a giant killer bee.

In any case, I eventually was able to collect my bearings and find the wherewithall to climb back into my deathmobile and drive crazily back home, while simulataneously keeping one eye on the road and the other eye firmly planted on the area surrounding my steering wheel console and driver's side air conditioning vent because that's where the killer's buzzing was coming from, and talking on the phone with my sister, whom I had by now called to seek some mental support. My end of the conversation went something like this:

"So what do you guys have planned for Kat's birthday?"

"Uh huh."

"Oh cool!"

"BZZZ."

"OHMYGOD!!!

* slight whimpering *

"Oh really? That'll be c--"

"BZZZ."

"AAAUUUGGGHHH!!!"

Long story short, I finally made it back to my apartment alive, face fully intact. No thanks to Scott, Ben, Julia, Erin and Dev -- all of whom I called for emotional support during my moment of distress and all of whom didn't answer their phones!!!! Agh!!!! Hahaha. Just kidding. Even if you all did answer, all you would have heard was some crazy person screaming in the background about a killer bee waiting to eat her face.

The unfortunate part about this whole incident is that I am now completely incapable of setting foot inside my car ever again because I know that beemonster is still lurking inside my air conditioning vent waiting to attack when I least expect it, and am now, of course, going to have to sell my car. That's life I guess. Stupid bees.

Quandary of the day.

So Financial Director aka Anglo-Version of my Father put a note (and in everyone's, I'm assuming) in our boxes detailing our remaining accrued vacation time. According to him, I've got 40.2 hours of vacation time left, plus an additional day for working the July 4th concert.

You all know what I'm getting at here, right?

Do I even dare ask him if I can tack on that vacation time after my last actual work day next week and get an entire week of paid vacation...or will he just roundhouse-kick me then spit on my curled up body as he laughs at the incredulousness of my request? On the one hand, if this is a pretty rotten and immoral thing to do, I don't want to get laughed at. Or talked about behind my back. Or roundhouse-kicked in the face. But on the other hand, one week's pay for doing nothing? And I'm technically entitled to it, am I not? Hard-earned money is great, but un-earned money is even better.

Ack, help.

ps. I've eaten nothing today but three Krispy Kreme donuts (one regular iced, 2 chocolate iced, mmmm...) and a Panera bagel. Leftovers from this morning's meeting. I may have to eat a bushel of fresh produce and wash it down with 2 gallons of water to rid my body of the evil now lurking inside it. ...Or I could go back to the Conference Room and grab another donut.

I can see right up them shawts.

Well, the verdict is in: And it is an apparent muscle strain in my left shoulder. Hmph. Or as my doctor put it yesterday, "Weeell, I really don't know what to tell you..." To which I replied, "Weeeell, you better tell me because I just paid $30 of my hard-earned money, plus $2 in parking, all of which could have been put to better use buying Ysabel approximately 10 iced chai lattes from Star*ucks, so that you could tell me why my shoulder has been hurting for 2 months." Ok, didn't really say that.

My doctor was actually pretty cool. He said I had strained my rotator cuff muscles, and that the pain won't go away because I keep re-aggravating it (Hmmm...8 hours of stuffing envelopes last Friday, anyone??). Anyway, his magical elixir? Ibuprofen. Bah. I thought he'd have a better wonderdrug than that. Oh well. Oh, and he also told me to stop doing whatever it is I'm doing whenever I feel my shoulder getting sore again. I wonder how Crazy Lunatic Supervisor will take to that news. "What's that you say? You need these 800 envelopes stuffed and ready to mail in 2 hours? Oooooh, my aching shoulderrrrr...." Hahahahaha. Victory is mine!

***

In other news, I am the only one working in the office at the moment because everybody else is in the Conference Room having our weekly meeting and I had to stay out here and field phone calls, my specialty. Our Chamber Series mailing went out earlier this week and Crazy Lunatic Supervisor didn't want to miss any phone calls from our Chamber subscribers. Incidentally, I have been sitting here for the past hour and have answered not one phone inquiry about our Chamber Series. Ha. Whatevs. This irks me only because I saw Bossman #2 carry three boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts, one box of Panera bagels and loads of orange juice and coffee for the meeting. And I'm not currently in there eating any of it.

...Well, okay I did grab one delicious donut before the meeting started, but I'm ready for seconds. And when I did run in there to grab my delicious donut, they all started talking about how next week is my last week and how they are all frozen with devastation and that this organization is going to instantly crumble onto itself the moment I depart. Hahaha. Ok, not really, but Bossman #2 did say again how much I am going to be missed.

Awww.

I have to say, I am starting to get kind of sad, because - Crazy Lunatic Supervisor and Angry Rich Old Patrons aside - this job is pretty awesome. But, as with everything in life: On to the next, I say!

***

And because your life is not complete until you've seen this clip from Family Guy:

Scott loves this video more than he loves me. And I can't say I really blame him :)

Office cake!

The lacking of the sleep is back in full force. Hence, I may stop writing in full and/or coherent sentences mid-way through this post...

I worked the annual 4th of July concert at World's Fair Park last night. It was actually pretty fun. The first couple of hours was spent just mingling through the massive crowd and bullying people into taking concert programs. I'm pretty sure I ended up asking the same people at least 3 times during the course of the evening if they would like a program. This was evidenced by the increasingly hostile glares I received upon approaching each group of people. Once the concert started, though, we were able to just kick back and enjoy the concert. And the fireworks... Man, the fireworks! I have to say, if there's one thing Southerners do right, it's blowing sh*t up!! By the finale of the fireworks display, it got so bright I literally couldn't even look straight into the sky anymore. Awesome.

Anyway, after that it was home and bed by shortly before 1am. Which would have been lovely, had it not been followed by 5 hours of lying in bed, completely awake but refusing to open my eyes in an attempt to strong-arm my body into unconsciousness. At least I managed a precious two hours of sleep eventually, before having to roll my half-dead body out of bed and into the office in 30 minutes. Gah.

Oh, and I do have to mention this...

On my office voicemail from 9:28pm last night:

Drunken old boozer at the concert: "HEY. Tellll the Meeestro that the lady in the blue dress completellly busshered our National Anthem: Rocky Top!! She shunt even be allowed to HUM that song ever AGAIN. Thisss from the Tellico Village Yachhht Club."

*Other drunken old boozers giggling in the background*


But, hey. You know what the best remedy is for having to go to work on 2 hours of sleep after working an outdoor concert the night before? 4th of July Mystery Office Carrot Cake, that's what! "Mystery" because Finance Director aka Anglo-Version of my Father was the first in the office this morning and he said the office was already in the kitchen when he got here and nobody else seems to know where it came from. To that, I say: "Who the hell cares?" It's carrot cake and it's delicious. The breakfast of champions.

Also: I've got a doctor's appointment this afternoon for my left shoulder. I am not dreading this appointment as much as my last one, seeing as how I do not anticipate having to sit in a waiting room with any pregnant 12-year olds this time around.

2 week countdown!

Today marks the beginning of my final two weeks here in the office. In honor of some pre-emptive celebrating, I went out briefly last night and had dinner with Richard and Josh at Chesapeake's restaurant downtown. This was also to help reassure myself, that I am in fact 26 years old and not 40, as I am more apt to behave, and that I can still go out past 10 o'clock at night even though I have (gasp!) to get up for work the next morning. Anyway, it was muy delicioso. Especially the bottle of wine that Richard so nicely bought for us to share. Hurray Richard!

And theeen, I went and joined up with Heather and TJ at Agave Azul (i.e. The beloved place of my 25th birthday dinner food fight and home to the giant head-sized margaritas) where I had one (normal-sized, thank you very much...I'm getting old) margarita and a helping of flan. Or as I nicknamed it last night: "Caramelized egg yolks on a plate." Mmmmm...artery-clogging deliciousness. I think I may have permanently traumatized Heather when I told her that I used to make flan when I was but a wee little girl and, sadly, much more domestic than I am now and the recipe pretty much consists of egg yolks, sugar and cream. Except I just now Googled flan recipes and see that it calls for whole eggs, not just egg yolks. Hm. I must not have remembered correctly. Whatevs.

Anyway, I got in to work this morning to find Crazy Lunatic Supervisor freaking out over something or other and my night of fun and friends last night became naught but a distant memory. Ah well, only two more weeks of this and I'm home free. And by "home free," I mean "unemployed and well on my way to becoming destitute and groveling at the doors of Star*ucks begging for a job again." Waaaaah.

But at least I'll be a West Coast destitute next time around.

***

Update: Oh, and lest I allow myself to think that I'll miss this job once I'm gone...


At the meeting I just came back from regarding tomorrow's 4th of July concert:

Marketing Director: "Ok, so Education and Outreach Director, Intern and I will be handing out information on the Family Series, Communications Director will be backstage with the television crew, and Favorite Cool Co-worker and Annual Funds Manager will be directing people in the parking lot. Everyone else will be out in the audience handing out programs and brochures."

Telefund Manager: "Do we have any assigned locations or anything?"

Communications Manager: "Not that I know of. Ysabel, can you be in charge of that since you set up the itinerary for tomorrow night?"

Me: "Sure."

Communications Manager: "I'll just put the boxes of programs at the side of the stage, and you can delegate people and tell them where to go."

Me: "That should be fine..."

Crazy Lunatic Supervisor: "WELL, YOU BETTER HAND OUT PROGRAMS TOO. YOU CAN'T JUST STAND THERE BY THE BOXES."

* Silence as Communications Manager, Marketing Director and I all look at each other in amazement. *

Me: (Turns to look straight at Crazy Lunatic Supervisor) "Uh, don't worry. I'm going to be working."

* Communications Manager and Marketing Director giggle under their breath. *


Ok, I will miss this job quite a bit, but definitely not one certain wretched individual. Oh, Crazy Lunatic Supervisor. Whatever alien life-form abducted you last week and replaced you with a nicer, more penitent bizarro-version of yourself clearly got sick and tired of you over the weekend and threw your former unbearable self back into our fold. Damn.