Livin' in a Gangsta's Paradise


Cute Boy and I are not hanging out tonight.

CB: "What are you going to do tonight?"

Me: "I don't know." - not because I actually have nothing to do, but more because I have SO much to do that I don't know where to start.

CB: "You should blog. You haven't blogged in a long time. You should just spend all night writing."

That made me a little bitter. As if I have nothing to do all night but blog!

And then I remembered something.

I remembered when I started this little baby and all I could think about was something else I wanted to write. How I would get distracted from things I had to do because I so desperately wanted to fire up Blogger and shoot some undoubtedly ingenious words of wisdom your way. And now, here I am acting as if blogging is a chore.

It's not a chore. If anything, it's a small pleasure in a life of chaos, stress and always having something left to check off on my to-do list.

So ladies and gentleman, I am back! No longer will I forget that this one "chore" is the one that brings me the greatest release and relief; the one that helps me sort out my thoughts, my feelings, my angers and my ridiculous sense of humor, even if I'm not always sharing everything on the page with you.

So while I sit here, simultaneously unpacking from the last three weeks of travel, doing laundry, paying my bills and following up on work e-mails, I am catching up with you as well.

I've missed you :)

So the last time I posted was right before I left for Vegas. Ahh, Vegas.

Vegas was a lot of things, but here is what it was not: GAMBLING, EXCESSIVE INEBRIATION, ACTIONS I REGRET IN THE MORNING.

(I am sure Cute Boy is thankful for that last one.)

But seriously, I don't recommend going to Vegas for work. What's the point? I was at the Hard Rock Hotel with its delicious-looking pool and cocktails and rockstar memorabilia and I was wearing business casual attire with a SWEET conference ID badge wrapped around my neck every single day. I was running into people in flip-flops and itsy-bitsy, teenie-weenie, yellow polka dot bikinis as I checked my e-mail incessantly from my phone. In short, it was kind of lame.

But I can't pretend that in the midst of all that occupational ridiculosity, I didn't have a little bit of fun. I made some really great contacts, got to know some other contacts even better and even stayed in a suite for one night (granted, I was by myself, pitching to reporters all night in said suite, but STILL...)!

All in all, I can't complain. I got a trip to Vegas, a night in a suite, a dinner at Nobu and the chance to network with people from the Wall Street Journal to other blogs not unlike our own. And that, my friends, is priceless.

What have I been doing since I got back from Vegas, you say? What has been so important that I couldn't blog for the past five days?!

Nothing, Splendid Really fans. Dare I say it? Absolutely nothing.

When I returned home last Thursday, my car was finally ready to be picked up from the auto body shop (such splendid timing!). I took a $28 cab out to pick her up (which really, Progressive should pay for, dontcha think?) and she looks better than ever! Seriously, having some random dipshit run into my poor, unassuming, parked vehicle is the best thing that ever happened to my car. Now the front bumper is like new, even though there was some considerable damage to it before this most recent accident. I can't help but think, however, that I should get my baby out of Little Bitchcisco before something else happens to her. Stat.

Okay, so after that, my best friend from home also came up this weekend. On Saturday, her and I, along with our respective Cute Boys, went to Alcatraz Island. In my 23 years on this earth (living in California that whole time, mind you) this was my first trek to the infamous prison. It was AWESOME! Supposedly, you can take a tour where you spend a night on "The Rock", which the bestest and I will do fo sho. Don't know about the Cute Boys - they might be a little too p*ssy for that shit.

God, what is up with my foul language today? I apologize. I've been reading Barack Obama's "The Audacity of Hope" and I just read the chapter on Race, which talked about inner-city, young Black men and I guess I got a little too gangsta for my britches.

Obama will do that to ya.

Moving on, I spent all of today on my old stomping grounds - UC Berkeley. I'm organizing an informational/career panel for my alma mater consisting of CEOs/founders of companies we represent at work. So anyway, because I went to Berkeley, I suppose I am automatically just supposed to know everyone and therefore was designated "girl who gets to go back to campus and...pass out flyers". Sweet. Everybody loves the flyer guy.

I think I spent 2/3 of my college career trying to avoid that guy.

So I spent most of my day sweating my ass off and giving awkward speeches in front of classes who undoubtedly thought, "Who the fuck does this alumni bitch think she is?"

(Sorry. I just canNOT shake that gangsta vernacular today.)

It was trippy (yes, trippy) being back on campus and made me equal parts nostalgic and happy to be the fuck out of there, but that's another long ass post for another long ass day.

So now you know why I've been neglecting you for so long. It's not because I had any real excuse, you see, but just because I was saving up for this massive, kick-ass post that would keep you entertained for at least (at least!) five whole minutes at work.

You're welcome. And I love you too :)

Peace out.


Nat said...

welcome back... :-D

Maxie said...


freeandflawed said...

Welcome back :)