Dragging Ass and Going Crazy

I am so tired of my friends in the South complaining it’s hot. They complain that it’s 84 degrees. I’d give my eyeteeth for 84 degrees right now. Hot? You want hot? I’ll give you hot: it’s 112 here in Phoenix yesterday and today with no end in sight, far above normal (104) for this time of year. Add to that, monsoon season should be here soon–it’s already a little sticky this morning–so it’s getting nasty here.

Now shut up already and count your blessings. You friends are welcome to come here and experience it for yourself–you’ll never complain about your so called “heat” again.

There, I feel better.

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I know I’ve been MIA, but there’s so much going on it’s not even funny. Let’s take last week, for example: fly to Vegas on Tuesday morning because Better Half has a seminar in the northwest part of town, and wanted to take me along to see Cirque du Soleil on Tuesday night. Cool and awesome. Mystère is a great show, and afterward we walked through Treasure Island and the Mirage, then went back to Suncoast to sleep. We wandered around when we had time—after his seminar was done on Wednesday around noon, we checked out from Suncoast, went to lunch at the old Peppermill (which was great) across from the nasty Circus Circus, and then wandered through what the late and great Dean Martin referred to as the “Meggum” (MGM Grand)—I hadn’t been there in fifteen years, and have forgotten how huge it is.  We each had a beer at the Centrifuge Bar, watched the bartenders dance on the bar top, and then reluctantly headed out back to the airport and back to The Furnace (Vegas’s weather was warm and balmy, but not unpleasant).

Both flights—in and out of Vegas—ran late. Why is that? It’s no further than L.A., so why? Ridiculous.

Monday Bitchiness

I hate rude, pushy people who absolve themselves of any wrongdoing. This morning, we fielded a call from a high maintenance client who was insisting that Boss fax over her entire file to her parents; Boss said ‘hell no’ politely, but did send the essentials of the matter. The parting shot was, “My father is calling you tomorrow.” Oooo! Are we supposed to be scared? Boss just raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Eh, I’ll talk to him and then he’ll say in the end, ‘oh, I understand.’ No problem.”

The assistant to our co-counsel out of state emailed this morning, “Men are sooo moody!” referring to her boss, who is one of those people who go-go-go all the time. I replied that mine wasn’t PMSing this morning, but that he had yanked me from the door as I was going to lunch. He’ll probably freak fifteen minutes before my scheduled departure, which I hate. That’s normal.

At this moment, Boss is spelling out the big trouble a person’s son is sliding into. It’s rather sad. “he can get bounced out when they do a background check.” “Oh, no! That’s not possible! It’s not his fault!” Boss just rolled his eyes after the call was over and said, “Some people just don’t want to hear the truth.”

A friend of mine from out of state didn’t read a thing I wrote earlier today, so I replied, “God! You are such an asshole! Typical male!”

I had a great weekend–busy as hell, but a great weekend. Saturday was breakfast with Husband at paradise, then a long walk in Papago Park; lunch with the family at Mucho Gusto in Tempe, then I did some yardwork until it was time to take  my sister and Tude Dude Hellboy nephew to the airport on Saturday evening. Ten year old Tude Dude wouldn’t even say goodbye to his grandfather–he better be glad he’s not my kid, because his ugly disrespect would garner a smack to the back of his head from me. Mark my words, there will be trouble with this kid, and soon.

I get a call at 9:15 that evening and my sister’s freaking out–”I lost my cell phone!!”–you need to understand she’s a bigwig in her emergency services government job. She’s spazzing on the phone as I wandered downstairs and into the garage with my ear to the phone… and lo and behold, it was lying on the front passenger side floor of my car.

Sunday was wonderfully lazy, with the exception of mowing my lawn weeds–soon the bermuda will crowd them out and all will be well for the summer. The back yard does look good, I must say–my roses are a week away from exploding into bloom.

This morning, FedEx charged me over thirty dollars to send Sister’s cell phone to her overnight, but I know with them it will get there. The chick behind the counter had an attitude from hell, but when I got her to smile, I wish I hadn’t: I think she has meth mouth. Ugh. No wonder she’s cranky.

Gotta go back to work… later.