Short-timer

We are now 90% sure we are moving out of San Diego in approxiamately...SOON. I haven't had the time to really prepare myself for this because work gets in the way; such as preparing a presentation for 3 of our commercial buildings that are in three categories for winning an award. Yeah, it's been a really tough few weeks at work. And I feel very confident at the fact that we are going to win all categories. One: Because this was the product of my blood, sweat, and tears. Two: Because we are the best commercial real estate and development corporation in Southern California for high rise buildings in the suburban market. Three: Because I rock at making presentations. Four: Because I said so. Five: Because I know so.

And since people are aware of me leaving, and even calling me a short-timer, I really wanted to go out with a BANG. Because I am such a show-off when it comes to proving my worth as an employee. I haven't gave any notice just yet because I did not want to give the impression that I wasn't commited to my work. In fact, I am more commited to my work than I have ever been since I've been recently promoted. Silent yay.

All right, Kids.

I'm tired.

Go to bed.

Ready to puke

I drank a chai latte at Peet's and my stomach is having the hardest time agreeing with it. The co-workers and I grabbed some late afternoon coffee because it wasn't nearly as close to quiting time to have a shot of tequila. In fact, I would of preferred a shot of tequila over Peet's any day of the week. And honestly, I don't know what's so great about Peet's other than the fact that it's NOT Starbucks. Overrated Starbucks.

Like "oh my God Mary Anne, have you ever had Peet's? They're really great, but you can't find them anywhere around here."

Oh really? Since when did the rare factor add to the greatness of coffee? Because last time I checked, I wasn't hovering over a toilet with my index finger poking at the back of my mouth when I grabbed a latte over at Starbucks.

Wrestlemania!

Last night, Leo and I watched some UFC. Coming from someone who has very little knowledge or experience in martial arts, I really enjoy watching it. Especially when I have someone like Leo, who's taught kung fu, to kind of guide me through the basic fundamentals of mixed martial arts.

If I ever told my girlfriends that I watch this type of crap on tv, they would roll their eyes so far behind their heads, that by the time it reaches full circle, I'm no longer in the room. As if to say the only time I should speak to my girlfriends, is when I have more important things to say like shoes and why he dumped her. Which explains why I don't have any girlfriends in the first place.

Growing up with boys, I was exposed to a lot of Wrestlemania. Very popular during my youth. I remember watching a 24 hour marathon of Wrestlemania with my bro and cousins, while jumping off couches and on to each other's backs with pillows and plastic chairs (not metal folding chairs). Then imitating the wrestlers and their silly hand gestures to their male genitalia. I always thought that was so hilarious. Because oh my god Mom, HE'S POINTING TO HIS BOY THINGY! SO GROSS.

Mayhem in the Mighty Household

It's been a hell of a week for both of us. Month, for that matter. A few weeks ago, I had mentioned that we were flirting with the idea about potentially taking jobs somewhere else. And by that, I mean moving out of San Diego. Well, this idea may soon become a reality. It's only a matter of time now. And not only are we eargerly waiting to know, but our whole family, relatives, friends, and even co-workers/boss' are eager to know too. And I can't stress enough about how tired we are from being harrassed by everyone about this whole moving thing, that I think it's even gone way out-of-hand.

For example, last week my boss (Vice Pres.) fires one of our co-workers and in verbatim says, "Mary Anne. Okay. We let [co-worker name here] go, we want you to take her place as an incentive for you to stay with us." Basically he fired my co-worker, the weakest link in our department, so I could get promoted, make more money, and shut the hell up. This was seriously 3 days after I told him about the potential move. POTENTIAL MOVE. THE MOVE THAT WAS POTENTIAL. So now the position is mine for the taking. UNLESS, of course if I leave. Which would be unfortunate because it was the job I was initially applying for when I was working in Downtown LA. I really like where I work.

At Leo's current job, his co-workers/boss are anticipating how much this company is willing to offer him. Possibly two things can happen: 1. Leo will receive a counter-offer from his current employer for him to stay 2. Leo will take the job with the other company and his co-workers will use Leo's offer as ammo for their boss' to give them raises or perhaps even leave for better opportunities.

It's a mess. And my brain is on the fritz.

At the end of the day, one thing matters the most. MONEY. Money, money, money. It's a real shame that we spend our entire lives based around the foundations of our livelihood. Unhappy. Unappreciated. Corporate American. And how shallow we are to measure success based on our paychecks instead of what we're worth as individuals. (I'm just bitter because I'm broke right now. LOL. I'm just talking out of my ass. I really need to get to bed. I have to wake up at 5am.)

To wrap things up, It's really up to the leader to make the final decision on this one. Because afterall, he will have the opportunity to be working with one of the greatest companies in the world.

Opportunity has definitely come knocking. HARD.

Good night, Friends.

Bitchen'

Due out June 29th. Am I going to snag me one these beauties? Probably not. But it's always nice to admire it. RIGHT NEXT TO MY EAR.

Because my home is so bland

I decided a few months ago that my living room needed a focal point. Because oh my god, have you seen how boring the inside of my house is? If depressing had a home, this would be it. So I went with the obvious focal point, over the marble fireplace mantel. Of course no living room would be a living room without the obligatory wedding photo. And a family group photo. And a baby photo. AND last but not least, some adorable subversive cross-stiching.


Bought me one of these just recently. Oh joy.

The Fabulous Word

Perhaps one of the most interesting and colourful words in the English language today is the word "fuck". It is the one magical word which, just by its sound, can describe pain, pleasure, love, and hate. In language, "fuck" falls into many grammatical categories. It can be used as a verb, both transitive (John fucked Mary) and intransitive Mary was fucked by John). It can be an action verb (John really gives a fuck), a passive verb (Mary really doesn't give a fuck), an adverb (Mary is fucking interested in John), or as a noun (Mary is a terrific fuck). It can also be used as an adjective (Mary is fucking beautiful) or an interjection (Fuck! I'm late for my date with Mary). It can even be used as a conjunction (Mary is easy, fuck she's also stupid). As you can see, there are very few words with the overall versatility of the word "fuck".

Aside from its sexual connotations, this incredible word can be used to describe many situations:

1. Fraud "I got fucked by the car dealer."
2. Resignation "Oh, fuck it!"
3. Trouble "I guess I'm fucked now."
4. Aggression "FUCK YOU!"
5. Disgust "Fuck me."
6. Confusion "What the fuck.......?"
7. Difficulty "I don't understand this fucking business!"
8. Despair "Fucked again..."
9. Pleasure "I fucking couldn't be happier."
10. Displeasure "What the fuck is going on here?"
11. Lost "Where the fuck are we."
12. Disbelief "UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLE!"
13. Retaliation "Up your fucking ass!"
14. Denial "I didn't fucking do it."
15. Perplexity "I know fuck all about it."
16. Apathy "Who really gives a fuck, anyhow?"
17. Greetings "How the fuck are ya?"
18. Suspicion "Who the fuck are you?"
19. Panic "Let's get the fuck out of here."
20. Directions "Fuck off."
21. Disbelief "How the fuck did you do that?"

It can be used in an anatomical description- "He's a fucking asshole."
It can be used to tell time- "It's five fucking thirty."
It can be used in business- "How did I wind up with this fucking job?"
It can be maternal- "Motherfucker."
It can be political- "Fuck Dan Quayle!"

It has also been used by many notable people throughout history:
"What the fuck was that?" Mayor of Hiroshima
"Where did all these fucking Indians come from?" General Custer
"Where the fuck is all this water coming from?" Captain of the Titanic


(From Funnyfuck.com)

My favorite SPAM e-mail of the day

Subject: "MARY ANNE, TAKE THIS TO PRODUCE MORE SPERM MASS NOW!"

Should I also inquire about what they can do for my husband's vagina?

There's a difference between living your age and living under a rock

The other day at work, a co-worker of mine asked if I was going to buy Jordin Sparks' new cd. I was literally taken aback by this because first of all, I can't remember the last time I ever bought an actual cd from an actual store. You have to understand, my co-workers are also decade(s) older than I am and are also law abiding citizens who watch way too much Dateline MSNBC. So it was a totally legitimate question for someone his age. Otherwise, if it were a peer of mine, not only would I slap them so hard to the 21st century, I would also drag their ass out from underneathe the rock they were living in.

Not exactly knowing how to react, I replied, "Um, I'll probably just go online to her website to hear clips of it first. If I like it, I'll probably just downlo-, I mean get it."

Get it, as in downloading it illegally and guilt-free to my computer to put on my iPod. So there's a bit of truth there. I'm not really lying. But isn't that what people do nowadays? Burn cds or upload them to their iPods?

Don't read on if you can't handle the F word

Lots of stuff to say, but so little time. And for the record, the highlight of my two week hiatus from blogging wasn't just about fantasizing what it's like to make love to a donut. Believe me. I have enough on my plate to deal with to even think about the internet or elaborating the details as to why I would blog about stupid crap, like hmmm, I don't know, donut fucking?

If people get offended about what other's write on their blog, then don't read it. That's the beauty of web browsers. It's like getting spam e-mail of penis performance enhancers or free porn and then blaming the internet (you paid to have in your home) for exposing you to it because now...now you're going to burn in hell. THE DEEPEST, DARKEST, BOWELS OF HELL!

It's ridiculous. Just like the people who are suing McDonald's, because oh my god, they're gaining weight! It's all your fault, Big Mac! How did you get in my mouth?

Somebody's gotta blame somebody, right? And that's why the United States is such a wonderful nation. We can make up laws and then point fingers to juice out what money we could. People are funny, I tell ya.

In my next life, I hope to be Canadian.

Anyhow, I'm not directing this post to anybody in particular. There are certain things I disagree with that are absolutely fucking ridiculous. And yes, I like to use the fucking "F" word. As an American, I can exercise my rights to speak freely.

(This post is so random. It seems to be the theme around here lately.)

A snippet of this mornings conversation in bed

Mary Anne: "Have you ever fucked a donut?"

Leo: "That would be so weird."

Which translates to me that he hasn't, but would.