Bright lights! Boring job.

As most everyone who knows me can tell you, I am not your typical ‘mo. I drink beer, not martinis or any other mixed froo froo drink. I kill bugs without screaming. I don’t decorate. I eat fatty foods. I don’t watch my carbs. And I hardly know any designers by name or sight. But there are times when real life is just too much to deal with, that’s when I gay it up!

Recently work has been particularly stressful. Aside from the fact I share an office with three other people (which is a story for after I submit my two week notice), there is a lot of corporate idiocy I have to deal with on a day-to-day basis. How do I handle all the shit I have to swim through day in and day out you ask? SHOW TUNES! (Of course I include in these Bette, Cyndi Lauper and any teen pop “boy” band I may have downloaded to the iPod. Not show tunes but just as gay.)

From Aida to Spring Awakenings to Rent to any tune a Disney character has sung, these have become the soundtrack of my life as of late. You see I have been doing the same work for the last eleven years and there are days when it can be unbearably boring. It helps when I can pop in your ear buds, select a song with a poppy beat and be transported to the bright lights of Broadway.

I’m no longer sitting at my desk, aimlessly typing, trying to formulate a plan to kill myself to end my misery and take a out few key co-workers in the process while still making it look like an “accident.” I am suddenly under the spotlight! The walls fall away, the desks (and co-workers) are dragged away by stage hands, the set rolls in, the stage lights come up and chorus line is in place. This is my moment, my time to sing out loud, to be a star!

Soon (in my head) I leap up on my desk, catch the mike which is tossed to me from off stage and I begin my big number! I’m hitting my notes, keeping in step, the chorus chimes in at the right moments and all is right with the world. If only for three minutes and eighteen seconds, then the stage lights fall and I’ve returned to the real world. Until the next song when the orchestra cues you in.

You can be the Nubian slave in ‘Aida’ singing, “Enchantment Passing Through.” Or the young musician with HIV in ‘RENT’ belting out, “One Song Gory.” My personal favorite these days is, “Totally Fucked!” from ‘Spring Awakenings.’ An upbeat, rockin’ song about how we’re all totally screwed no matter what we do, so we may as well do what we want anyway. I hear that song and my toes start to tappin’ and my head start a boppin’. We should all take some time out each day to be a little gay. Curtain calls in five minutes, deep breathe and remember you’re fabulous! No matter what!

The Best of 2007: Moving (on) Day!

It’s no secret I HATE moving. Previous to my current address, which can only be described as design by Tim Burton and decorated by Todd Oldham. I moved collectively forty feet in the last seven years. I lived in a row of townhouses in the city, I moved from one end to another and back again. It was usually over by noon. This last time was surely one of the longest days of my life.

A couple of weeks prior I began to make preparations for the big move, turning off the phone, switch the gas, electric and cable over to the new address (pay attention those last three come into play later.)

The “Bad Move” day started not on moving day but on the day before. I received a call late in the evening from my landlord, who wanted to let me know that the gas was not turned on in my new place. This meant I had no heat or hot water. Now I had called at least a week ahead of time to have the utilities transferred into my name on the day of the move. Up until that point the utilities were in my landlord’s name, they had to repaint the place, as well as, do some cleaning so they knew the electric was on by turning on the lights and plugging in equipment. But they never bothered to check to see if the gas was on. No big deal, right? They call the gas & electric company to have the gas turned on and we’re good to go. Little did I know the scales of the universe were tipping toward stupid for the next seventy-two hours. I asked the landlord if they could call the gas & electric company and have them turn on the gas considering they did own the property and it was still in their name. They agreed and said they would call to have the gas turned on. Twenty minutes pass and my phone rings again, it’s the landlord. They said they tried to get a hold of someone at the gas & electric company but the customer service line was closed and the only line that was open was the emergency line. They weren’t sure if they would consider this an emergency. Let’s review, the gas should have been turned on, I’m moving in the next day into their property with no heat or hot water in NOVEMBER! I politely told them I would consider it an emergency and asked them to call back. Another thirty minutes pass and the landlord calls back. They said they spoke with someone at the gas & electric company; someone would be out before noon the next morning to turn it on. I should expect a call twenty minutes prior to their arrival, so I can pop over to my new place to let them in. Crisis averted…. or was it?

The day began at six-thirty am, a friend of mine and I went to pick up the moving truck around seven am hoping to get an early start on the move, finish around one and BOOM…it’s Miller Time! But nothing ever goes as planned, does it? After picking up the truck, coffee and bagels for my “movers”, the phone rings. It’s the cable company; now keep in mind I had called a couple of weeks in advanced to confirm someone was coming THAT DAY to install the cable. Not only did I call in advance but also I confirmed the week before to make sure SOMEONE was coming on Saturday to hook up my cable. The customer service representative was calling to inform me NO ONE was coming to connect my cable that day. She kindly explained to me the service men do not work on Saturday and she doesn’t know how the system allowed the other reps to reserve that time for me.

STRIKE ONE! The fuse was lit but it would be a few minutes before it reached the powder keg.

I calmly explained to the person on the other end of the phone I had confirmed not once but twice that someone was coming out that day to setup my cable. She was very sympathetic but she told me there was nothing she could and asked if I wanted to schedule another appointment. I, in no uncertain terms, explained to her I wanted the appointment I scheduled and confirmed TWICE! After about fifteen minutes of back and forth with this “person” asking them how I was going to compensated for this inconvenience I flashed back to my days as a phone representative. It was like flashing back on my days in ‘Nam. I then asked to speak with their supervisor. After all it wasn’t their fault the system screwed up, they don’t get paid enough to hear me rant and rave but her boss does. Now it being Saturday, of course, there were no supervisors in the office so she offered to transfer me to the bosses voice mail. Here’s a little tip, usually when you ask someone on the phone to speak to a supervisor you’re getting the person next to them. In reality supervisors don’t take irate calls, that’s why they’re supervisors. After being transferred and leaving a not so pleasant message on the voicemail I called back because I STILL had no one coming out to hookup my cable. This time I got a different representative, I explained to them my situation and that I had left a message for ‘Mike’ the supervisor. “We have no supervisor named Mike”, they said. No shit! So I rescheduled my appointment for that Sunday and made sure SOMEONE was coming out that day! I then asked to speak with or be transferred to the voice mail of a REAL supervisor. I left ANOTHER scathing message and yet again asked how I will be compensated for this inconvenience. Needless to say I didn’t have lofty expectations of the day from there on in.

About half an hour later, my “movers” began to show up; after downing some coffee and bagels thing got under way. You never realize how much stuff you accumulate until you have to move. With this move I had to try to stuff a three-floor, five-bedroom townhouse into a one-floor, barely one-bedroom bungalow. I like to see David Copperfield pull that one off, let alone me.

So I…ummm…ahhh…ok, here’s the thing. I have gone as far I can go with this thing. I may finish this series one day but not today. Reliving this whole sordid tale was therapeutic at first but now it’s become just too DAMN depressing. Which maybe the reason for such a long pause between posts. Well that and, the flu, work, more work, vacation and other bits of drama, which were less than memorable. I’m trying to move on and look to the future.

They say it takes half the time you were in a relationship to get over it. I’m hoping to cut that time down. The beer, ice cream and therapy helps. Boys? They never help!

Check back for new posts VERY soon! Also, check some new links that I’ve added.

Laterz!