Author Archives: homeoffice

Somehow over the past month W has become the building yenta.  In drips and drabs he’d start mentioning how neighbor A is visiting his boyfriend in DC. And how neighbor B has a much higher than usual electric bill. And how it took neighbor C 2 hours to get over the GW after Christmas. Oh, and Neighor D usually makes black eyed peas and cabbage on New Year’s day (W was hoping for an invite)… he must be from the South.

And so W’s new nickname is born. Welcome, Jackee.

He’s even been racing the old lady neighbor to shovel the snow out front, and has befriended her so that she continues to leave toys for our dogs at our stoop.  I’m afraid to go back to work and come home to find a canasta tournament going on in the apartment.

In an attempt to keep myself occupied while there is hockey on TV, I busted out the whiteboard

A peek into the "If you had a new hockey team, what would you name it" brainstorming session.

As you can see, the names started falling under the categories “Hockey related” ” Olde Timey” ” War” ” Occupuations”* and “Eskimo/ Cold weather related”

In the end, we think the SQUALLS win it alllllllll!

* Yes, I realize “Mercenaries” and “Emperors” are a stretch under the Occupations category, and that Millers should be there. You can’t disturb a good brainstorm

When gathering my interview materials, I included a comfortable pair of pants so I could find a bathroom and change out of this uncomfortable/ unnatural suit asap. There might have been some “you’re not serious are you?” comments thrown around. But as I sit here waiting for my lunch date in Chelsea, I am quite pleased with my foresight.

Interview tip: bring your resume, portfolio and comfy shoes and cords. Although try not to annoy the swedish interviewer, as I believe I did.  ( Stop making me interview with foreign women, they are not my target audience!  )

At least I’m comfortable now!

W update: While preparing for her interview last night, H asked me if I could bring her a comfortable change of clothes when we met for lunch. Not sure eating at a chinese restuarant and then taking a subway directly home required a full change from “work clothes” to flannel pants and a fleece. H’s request made it sound like she was leaving work to go apple picking and then horseback riding. Wow – it’s going to be a rough transition from the home office lifestyle! At least when I leave the home office, I will most likely still be able to maintain my uniform (ie. jeans, black T, adidas) – got to love internet marketing!

I actually have an interview tomorrow (COBRA only extends for so long, folks).  I was smart enough to figure out what to wear tonight, but not smart enough to remember that the last time I had to wear a suit on a somewhat regular basis I was a size 4.  I won’t say what size I am now, but it’s not a 4.

Therefore, my options are quite limited. And once I found something that fit (which is quite obviously a 6 year old Ann Taylor number. slick.), I realized that lo and behold, there is not a single pair of appropriate stockings to be found in the underwear drawer abyss.  Fishnets?  Three pair (they made a business come back in ’06, remember?). Novelty stockings?  How about brown with a blue paisley, or perhaps a gray herringbone.  But nude tights?  Oh no.  OK then, what about black stockings. HA!  not a trace.

It’s times like this you miss Manhattan, and by Manhattan I mean 3 24 hour Duane Reades within 4 blocks.

It might take a second, but you will slowly realize that what you’re seeing is me glue sticking closed several runs on a pair of old black tights. Because why would I own hairspray?

So if you didn’t get the picture that I was a mess before, hopefully it’s all clear now. Seriously, maybe I do need another job to help me just get it together!  Plus, I’m looking forward to the work stress and subsequent cigarettes that combined to make me a size 4 in the first place. (just kidding W. aha. aha.)

OK, glue stick just about dry, time for bed. Need to get the worm tomorrow!

I accompanied my friend to a party in a crazy cool Brooklyn apartment.  It was stylish and immaculate. It was full of gay guys from her swim team. It was great.  My friend is only 27… it’s good to maintain younger friends, they keep you on your toes and don’t need babysitters!

This wasn’t a planned thing- we were on the subway and she said, “I said I’d stop by this party, I’m getting off here” and I said, “I’ll come with you.”  hmmm I wasn’t really invited, was I?  Today she IM’d me to recap how much fun we had and that she was planning on staying for 20 minutes, but with me we ended up staying for 3 hours.  And throughout the party, while I was chatting away about everything from my favorite dips to Argentinian polo players, she kept telling me how I’m the best person-to-bring-to a-party-ever– I’m self sufficient and chatty.  Oh, and I got shit canned (no dinner mistake) so badly that the dogs were afraid of me when I came home.

W just rolled his eyes when I told him that I was a hit, sure that I was just annoying everyone. HOWEVER, I have proof that I was a hit…

one of my new friends gave me his business card so that he could invite me to his party!

I was immediately called Kathy Griffin