The City Smells Like Soggy Garbage

The city smells like soggy garbage today. I'm certain there's a metaphor in there somewhere, but not entirely sure I really wish to explore it, so we'll just leave it at that.

Though stylistically uncharacteristic, this post will be a hodge podge mix-n'-match chloroform choose your own adventure type thing, due to both time constraints and inexplicable lethargy on my part. Please deposit any and all expectations here.
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The Lone Star Talent and I spent a lovely night last night swilling wine amidst random shouts of "Icing!! ICING!!" ringing through the air at piercing volume and frightening intensity. We also dyed my hair a lovely new shade of reddish golden brown, chosen by her gloriousness, the girly queen of roomates, who also helped wash the spilled dye off of my naked back and shoulders while laughing about what a wet dream for many men the whole scenario was. This is why I love having a female roomate again after so much time living with men. This hilariously empowering fun-fest only further confirmed the oft repeated mantra of the evening.

"ICING!!!"
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I receieved a phone call from the director of HR shortly after arriving somewhere in the neighborhood of noon today. "Can you come to my office?" Oh shit! Either a reprimand for the very short length of my skirt or my slackness as of late was forthcoming. I paraded in with my very short skirt and very bright hot pick lace fishnets layered over black tights entering a full 2 minutes preceeding me.

"Can you shut the door please?" Oh god! That just confirmed it...shutting the door is never a good sign. Well, I'd been here before, and learned then that of course I am a highly marketable highly intelligent human being with no need to freak out.

So of course my innards were plummeting to the depth of self-esteem hell.

But no, the universe was merely fucking with me, providing a grand joke at the expense of my fragile digestive system; I was being offerred a full time job...again. Not only just any full time job, but a highly coveted one as the administrative assistant to the big man on campus. This was huge! This was extraordinary! Not only had my self-perceived slackness not been noticed, but I was being paid the highest of compliments for my work ethic and performance!

But wait...accepting the job meant no more flexibility. Granted it also meant being able to pay my bills and not have to pay rent on the credit card, as I am forced to do for January yet again, but no flexibility whatsoever.

Chains and shakles, chains and shackles......rent! rent!....chains and shackles, chains and shackles.....

"I'm sorry, if it means compromising my flexibility, I'm going to have to respectfully decline."
"I knew it! I told Dr. Big Man on Campus that you wouldn't take it, that you had your own thing going on and that SDJ Company wasn't your life. I just won the bet and got a free lunch!"
"Umm, glad I could come through and get you a free lunch?"
"Seriously, I respect your decision and respect your commitment to the whole acting thing. But I did want you to know you were absolutely the first choice and that you're highly thought of here."
"Wow, that really makes my day! Especially considering I thought you were calling me in here to tell me that you were getting rid of all the temps again."
"Actually we are, tomorrow. All except you, of course."
"Umm, okay. Whew, guess I'm lucky, huh? Well, thanks again for the offer, and I'll be more than happy to take on any administrative work [editor's note: IDIOT!!! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!!] in the interim before someone is hired. I'm always happy to be given problem solving tasks to conquer."
"Great! Then I'll definitely take you up on that myself, as I'm often in need of administrative support."
[Editor's note: PLEA TEMPORARY INSANITY!!]
"Umm, great. More than happy to help out."
"Thanks, Synge. You're very highly thought of here, just wanted to make you aware of that. Oh, and this conversation stays between us, okay?"
"Of course it does. Absolutely."

Us and anyone stumbling onto this blog, which hopefully will not be the instrument of my downfall.
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Naturally, after being paid such a high compliment, I then proceeded to spend the rest of the day emailing back and forth with SL2000 and Mr. Artsy Hotpants entrenched in the hopeless task of actually making a decision as to New Year's Eve plans. After a record breaking low of 25646843 emails, a consensus was finally reached! The evening will commence with cooking dinner and drinking wine at MAH's; sharp wit and fabulous commentary complimentary. This will be followed by a party at a friend of MAH's where there will be more food, more alcohol, and did I mention food and alcohol (probably great witty commentary there as well, though I can't vouch for it personally). The evening will be rounded off with a (surely drunken, by this point) jaunt down to the West Village to ring in the New Year in great style surrounded by many fabulous queens belting out show tunes, just to ensure no possibility whatsoever of a New Year's kiss. I am very happy with this plan, and very happy with the wonderful friends that I'll be ringing in the New Year with. Perhaps one of the fabulous belting queens will take pity on me and kiss me on the cheek for luck.
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And last but certainly not anywhere near least, tonight is the night in which I have the talk with Doc Harley. I spent whatever portion of the day leftover from making New Year's plans fortifying my resolve, finding my strength, and freaking out about what the hell I'm going to say and how the hell I'm going to say it. I emailed back and forth with a wonderful co-worker of mine, who gave such beautiful and unexpetced tidbits of wisdom that really sent the message home, ending with, "You have strength, my sweet. Let's just bulk up your arms."

My fear is that my resolve will be lost amidst excuses and my tendencies towards sympathy and giving too many chances. But as trite as any and all "new beginnings" themes are, I do want to begin the new year with a fresh start and a renewed commitment to myself. Bowing to someone else's needs is not doing that. I must gather my forces and plunge forward, no matter how blind and inexperienced I may feel in this arena.

Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!

I'll be the one sipping wine, wearing superwomyn underoos and smelling like soggy garbage.