123Valerie Strikes Again

Unprecedented Self-Indulgence.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Up and Down Like the Toilet Seat at a Mixed Party

So, I was practicing my Roger Rabbit in the elevator on the way up to my office this morning because, well . . . why not?

Megan Jane can verify that I couldn't do the Roger Rabbit back in 1989 when it was cool, and I have spent the last 17 years trying to get it down. I mostly just jerk my head and arms back and forth while stepping backwards, but I feel like I'm getting a little closer every day. If there's ever a Club MTV reunion show, I will be ready.

Anyway. The elevator lurched to my floor, stopped and then bounced. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. It finally settled, but it was very disconcerting and I should have taken it as a sign of the day to come.

567Devin called, so now I don't have to cap his ass. Up! Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

"Um, I heard you might have been a little upset that we didn't invite you to the party."

"Yeah. I was pretty het up for a minute. I 85'd you. You were almost 86'd. But, I'm okay now. My objectivity prevailed, and I know it was a small gathering, you had just gotten home from family vacation, the party sort of got planned around you and it just happened to be at your house. It's cool," I said. And I really, really think I meant it.

"Good, cause I didn't mean it as an exclusionary kind of thing. It's just that people might have thought we were dating and that would be weird."


"But, I still want to get together with you, 123Valerie."

Up! Up!!!

"But, we'll be in Virginia all weekend for Brad's Mom's funeral." (Ya'll remember that--keep the prayers a-comin').

Double Down.

Friends first, of course, but 567Devin is a traditional sort who believes that dates should take place on Saturday evenings. Not ski-ball on Tuesday nights. Not lunch on Thursday. Not Friday happy hours with hot wings and beer. Not brunch on Sundays. Saturday nights. Dinner. Movie. Heavy petting. No exceptions. (Well, the heavy petting is my standard. If he can have strictures, so can I.)

"Okay," I said, "We'll put our actual first date off yet another week, making it nearly one month since I've seen you naked. Whatevs. I understand." (Which is girlspeak for, "I don't understand one whit, but if I play all nice and accepting now, then you will relax and I can more effectively sink my pink-polished claws into you later.") Bye bye.

Then, thank you Mother Nature, I found out that I am not pregnant this month. Up! Not so much a concern lately given that it would have to have been a divine conception, but I don't know any single woman in similar shoes who isn't glad to get the reassurance.

But, with the good news came a big facial blemish. Down. Down, as is in, "Swelling, please go Down now!" Seriously. It's huge. The city of Gaithersburg had to get a restraining order against it. JennyJenny8675309 said I was welcome to stay, but she didn't think she could spare the room for my zit. Ugh.

A lot of cover up, and I jumped into work only to remember that today was Recognition Day at my office, which means free pizza.


And also endless speeches from people who are celebrating anniversaries with the company and the quarterly report from our accounting department about how we may not get our bonuses if newsletter sales don't accelerate.


But, also raffles for tickets and gift cards and cash.


But, you can only win if you wear hideous company pin and/or hideous flag pin to show your support of America and, more importantly, the Republicans who control it.

Down. Down like the morale of our overseas troops.

Still, free pizza. After pizza, my friend #1Laura (who wants a number next to her name, but I can't figure out one that rhymes, so she will be #1Laura) stopped by my office. #1Laura has been telling me about her hot friend, Vermont Chris, who is moving down from . . . New Hampshire. Gotcha. Laura has been excited for us to meet for months - MONTHS, folks - and he'll finally be here on Tuesday.


So, #1Laura told him, "I have a friend that I want you to marry." That's why I love #1Laura. A date and a relationship are not good enough. She wants a commitment and a cake.

"Great," said Vermont Chris. "Can she move heavy things?"


While I get to meet hot Vermont Chris (Up!), our first encounter will be moving heavy stuff into his apartment (Down). It's very hard to be cute in moving-appropriate attire, but I will try. I am playing the card of plucky modern woman who is happy to pitch in and belly up to "man's work," but who also has a nice rack.

I also got to leave work early today (Up!), but had return later (late) this evening. Down.

In between, though, I visited Scotty at the hospital. Up! because Scotty is fun and funny, but Down, because, well, he's in the hospital with menengitis. He did, however, offer to give me his grape juice and we made fun of stuff in the gift shop. And he didn't puke or fall over once, though he threatened to both simultaneously. So, overall Up!

All in all, between the good and bad, today canceled itself out, which means it is really Saturday. And Saturdays were made for dancing. And dancing means the Roger Rabbit. Hey! Hey, Downtown Julie Brown, what do you think of my Roger Rabbit? Do my biker shorts with suspenders and black fedora accentuate my body's natural rhythm?

Ow. I think I just gave myself whiplash.

Tell me the craziest thing that's ever happened to you in an elevator via the Comments section. I will help the winner move heavy stuff into their apartment.


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