I am a terrible employee

Not only did I bail on attending our super fancy event in New York this evening, I am sitting at my desk blogging right now. I have done about 18 minutes of actual work all day. The rest of the time, I was aimlessly surfing the interweb. I wonder if this infernal computer has Spider Solitaire. Oh, it does, that might be the 4-5 pm hour of today.

I am currently listening to a streaming recording of Mike Doughty in DC from September. Good show. God bless those people who record shows and put them on the internet for the rest of us. I think this little file might have saved my life. I was seriously contemplating jumping out of the window (we're only on the second floor, I would have just hurt my knee more) if I didn't find something to break up the monotony of the day.

For those of you wondering - October sucks. It's a month of rain, and drearyness, and distracting contemplation. October is one of those months that makes you wonder about yourself. The weather is so halfheartedly crappy. There aren't snowstorms or heat waves to distract you, just a semi-permanent rain and a just cold enough to make you uncomfortable temperature. It's enough to make you think heavy thoughts. If I lived somewhere else, would I be happier? Am I just muddling through, or am I actively seeking the next phase of life? Am I a happy person? Am I ok if I'm not a happy person? The weather doesn't give you any excuse to not question yourself; it's just as ambivilent and unsure as you are. Boo to the rain and leaves on the ground. How are we supposed to remain upbeat if nature can't?

This song's called "Thank You Lord For Sending Me The F Train" or spring, whatever.

This brings to an interesting point that I've been ruminating on lately. So I saw Mike Doughty twice this weekend with my Mike Doughty and general cool music tutor, Katie Musar. After releasing his album on a bonafide label and pulling together a band to tour with, Mike Doughty has left the singer-songwriter universe. He is an act now, profiled in magazines and everything. And the show has changed. He no longer plays Only Answer, a tragedy in my opinion. Nothing seems spontaneous anymore, it's all been worked out with the other band members ahead of time. There is a new jam band element, which may be really cool for some people, but I think I prefered the banter and made up word bridges of the solo Mike Doughty. I am more lyrical than musical, and I think the music has taken over the show. Which is probably good. Anyway, amidst all the changes, he still says everytime, "This song is called "Thank You Lord For Sending Me The F Train"." Strange that that is the thing that stays.

My favorite song "I Hear the Bells" is playing right now, but I'm afraid to skip back at the end of it - the precious gift of the streaming show could be lost if I disrupt it, just like when the boys on Friends got free porn. You don't mess with the gift, man.

Does anyone remember my old blog? Or what I wrote about? I wish that it hadn't gotten deleted, I like to look over that stuff years later.

OK, work.

Grey's Anatomy is the best show ever

And this post is going to be rather fragmented as I am currently engrossed in said show, therefore only able to write during breaks. I have my priorities, people.

Oh my goodness, such a good show. It raises the important questions, like can the loves of our lives be terrible people and yet still be the loves of our lives? I don't know. The love of your life is supposed to be good for you. They aren't supposed to be evil, adulturous bitches or bastards. They are supposed to make you feel happy and wonderful and like being a better person. They are supposed to bring out the best in you, and someone who habitually hurts you only brings out pain. But there are plenty of people who say they are head over heels in love with people who hurt them time again. I think that's when you have to ask yourself why. Why do you keep sticking around? That isn't love. It's against the very definition. But persuasive, nonetheless.

Why is Izzie going out with Dr. McJerkFace? Couldn't the writers please take 10 minutes out of their day and write two good story lines for Izzie and George, possibly placing them in a bed together, just to see how things develop.

In other medically related news, my left knee has rebelled against marathon training. I cannot walk. I am immobilized with pain. On a scale of one to ten, I want a new knee. The preliminary diagnosis is runner's knee or ilibibital patelialetical something or other. Long and short of it, my high arches, strong quads and weak thighs have pulled the knee cap to the outside, cause lots and lots of pain. And here's the thing about the pain - IT NEVER GOES AWAY. I got it sitting, standing, walking, sleeping. My knee has gone all kinds of grindy and now it talks to me in a strange mumbly hobbit language. Anyway, we shall see how training progresses from here on out. In the meantime, I'm walking like the young Forrest Gump.

Oh that George! He just lost Meredith's mother.

Ok, this has now failed to keep my interest. Back to Grey's Anatomy full time.

Just wanted to you all to see my work desktop photo

I want one, really really badly. I think it's an interesting comment on my propensity for affection that scars.

Ode to my Mom

There once was a lady named Pussy Cat,
Her friends say she's all that.
With kitties a plenty,
She's bright as a new penny,
To her we tip our hat.

-OR-

There once was a woman named Sue,
Two lovely daughters she brought through.
Finding each one a brat,
Now she's sticking to cats,
Who leave her gifts of poo.