Sammy’s 9th Annual Holiday Message

 

Look at him. I’m not just saying this because he is mine, but this cat cannot take a bad photo.

Anyway, I am still “working” from home, and I can’t be arsed to write much, but I wanted to wish you all a happy holiday season. And, remember, if you want to see your family next Christmas, don’t see them this Christmas.

Quarantine in Review – First Six Months Edition

My last full day in the office was exactly six months ago tomorrow, on Tuesday, March 17 (yes, I was wearing orange). I started this post that very night and added to it as time went on. My plan was to publish it the day before our office re-opening. Well, that date has changed several times, the most recent being announced just last week. And for the first time since lockdown, management went from using a definite return date - “We will be re-opening on July 6”, “Plan to be back August 24” – to adopting a nebulous time frame of “possibly some time in the new year.” So, because who the eff knows when I will be back in the office, I decided the six-month mark was as good as any to publish this.

Six months. It has flown by. And even though I would trade every one of those days off for this horrid situation to not exist, I am not going to lie - I have loved “working” from home - the things I have organized and read and watched and done, wow.

And to think, at the start of all this, I volunteered to stay in the office. WTF was I thinking? It was like this: for about two weeks before we went into lockdown, we were planning to start experimenting with a skeleton staff and revised schedules. Now, because my commute is super short and because my work computer is way faster and bigger than my home one and because I have access to a printer at work and because I hate most of my co-workers and most of them hate me and so being in the office when they are not there is like being on vacation, I told my boss that, unless it was mandatory to not be there, I would stay (plus the brownie points I’d earn from this gesture did not escape my mind). But then all of a sudden – and I cannot emphasis enough how fast this all happened – we were all working from home. Literally, on the Monday morning we had a socially distanced meeting of 50 people (back then you still could) discussing how we were going to handle it all and then by midday the following day, whoomp there it is, we were done, we all had to leave and not come back until we were told to.

But I have gone back in a few times. Mainly when I was going to be in the area anyway, and mostly to do personal stuff, like print out pay slips and address labels. But because I wanted more brownie points, you can bet your bippy that I made sure my co-workers knew I was planning to be in the office. I’d make the announcement in our video meetings or send an email, and I always asked if any of them needed anything done to let me know and I would be happy to help. (Once or twice one of them actually took me up on the offer and I had to extend my time there. Bastards.)

But the majority of my time has been spent “working” from home. And of course, I cannot help but compare this time with my bout of unemployment. The main difference is that, well, I am getting paid, but, for the most part, there were many similarities: I have rarely showered (and in fact broke my unemployment record of four days without a shower by one day); I have rarely left the apartment and then only when I am out of boxed wine (so, yeah, about once a week); the days have sometimes blended into one another (that happened during the unemployment time too); and I’ve gained weight – eight pounds to be exact (my quarantine breakfast of choice of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls and Mountain Dew didn’t help that situation). But because I did not have the added worry of no income coming in, and because the vast majority of my co-workers are in the same position as myself, I have not felt guilty about reading or watching movies and television and doing a myriad projects around the house.

Some of those projects I have been wanting to tackle for years and I got so far on some of them that I know when I do eventually move, I have saved myself a ton of packing time. I got so organized that one time I put an item I no longer had any use for into the Goodwill bag, then took it out a few weeks later because I found a need for it with another project, and then got so organized with that second project that the item went back into the Goodwill pile!

But it has not all been The Price is Right viewing and drinking later than normal hijinks, however: I have at times felt guilty for doing personal stuff but I just remind myself that I am probably not the only one who’s worked on non-work stuff and well, if they wanted me to work eight-hour days they’d make me go back to the office. But on the few times I have been concerned that that might happen, I have reminded my boss that I fall into one of the high-risk categories (high BMI).

And exactly one month into the lockdown, when I went to do my weekly check-ins with friends and some co-workers, I noticed on the call logs and the text lists and the email records that, once again, I was the first person reaching out. So that caused a bit of a breakdown, although I do not know why it surprised me – it didn’t take a pandemic to make me realize that not that many people give a shit about me, or care enough to be the first one to text or email or call. But what surprised me the most is that even those I could rely on to return a call or be the first to send an email have been slow to do so or have not done at all – a sure sign of the severity of this situation and the effect it has had on us all.

And on that very selfish, needy and whiny note, I present to you two sets of selfish, needy and whiny scenarios concerning certain areas of my life that have been affected by this situation. But remember what I wrote earlier – I would trade every one of my days off – and the things on the “good” lists below - for this horrid situation to not exist.

Money

Bad: The money I have spent by doing things I wouldn’t normally do. My electric bill has gone up because I am at home and running the AC a lot more (we had a particularly hot spell at the end of August where 112-degree days were the norm). And the water/money I have saved by not showering as much has been negated by my running the dishwasher more often because I am eating at home more, thereby creating more dirty dishes. I also got caught up in the cooking things I don’t normally cook trap that seemed to befall others. Not bread (way too much effort) but there was an attempt at a cake and a particularly intricate curry. But because that was costing too much I turned to the extremely cheap hobby of ice-shaping:

Good: The $1,200 government check, of course (although that went straight into the trip to England and/or a down payment on a condo fund) and the money I have saved by not doing various things anymore. Like getting pedicures: this time last year I had spent $100 more on pedicures. Sammy does not give a shit what my feet look like and he is the only one seeing them right now so what’s the point of getting them all gussied up? I’ve also spent less on laundry because I have not done as much because I have been wearing fewer clothes – there have been days when I haven’t changed out of my sleepwear and there are days when I am in my daywear only because I fell asleep wearing it the night before! And the car insurance discount I got back in April was huge. (I am sure the majority of you could add “saved money on gas” to this list but for me that is a non-issue because my commute is so short, I fill up only about once a month anyway.)

Clothes

Bad: on the two or three occasions I have ventured into stores that sell clothes I of course could not try any of them on and because I am such an awkward size, I can’t take the chance that they will fit.

Good: some items on the “summer” side of my closet had only one more season of wear left in them. Now, because I have not used them, they’re good for next year.

Entertainment

Bad: There were no Fourth of July fireworks on the Strip. I love fireworks.

Good: Because my cable company was giving out freebies during the start of the lockdown, I caught up live on the last seasons of two pay-cable shows (The Affair and Homeland) that I usually watch on DVD several months after they’ve aired. An aside about the last episode of Homeland: it was the most perfect last episode of any show I have ever watched. It tied up most of the loose ends and ended with some intrigue that, should they decide to bring it back, they’re set, but not so much intrigue that it was frustrating for the viewer. I believe this ep should be mandatory viewing for any writer tasked with creating the final ep of any show from now on (pity it wasn’t around when the last episode of Lost was being written (yes, ten years later and I am still bitter about that!)).

Alcohol

Bad: I can start drinking earlier. Before, by the time I got home, changed, and fed Sammy, it was around 5:30 pm before I had my first cocktail. Now because I am already home, that time has changed to around 5:05 pm.

Good: I can start drinking earlier. 

Feast of the Virgin Year VIII

I forgot about this! Not only the date itself (June 9) but the official celebration too (the second Saturday in June, which this year was June 13). Quarantine brain. Only remembered because the Prettiest Boy Alive posted something on Facebook. Which he rarely does these days because he is newly engaged and all lovey-dovey with his new chick. Gag. (And total jealousy, too.)

The Quarantining of American Idol

So, was that a blah season because of the dearth of talent or was it a blah season because of the quarantine issues? Actually, maybe the talent was there, it was just not given an opportunity to shine because of the limitations imposed by the quarantine.

No, I think they were all, for the most part, crap.

I don’t think Prisons Tats Sam (I refuse to call her by that pretentious stage name of hers) would have won under normal circumstances, and not because of what the quarantine took from her performances, but what the in-studio setting would have added to others. I am sure one or more of the pretty white guys with guitars would have gotten further if those mass-voting tweens saw them all gussied up. Or maybe one of the other girls might have reaped the benefits of professional makeup artists and lighting and a live band and an audience that did not just consist of who happened to be hanging out in the garage that night.

So, after the show went into lock down, I fast-forwarded through most of the performances and the critiques so I cannot fairly judge whether Sam deserved to win. But my mind was already made up that she did not because of how her sob story probably garnered her sympathy votes. I HATE sympathy votes.  But at least she did not milk it as much as Louis “My friend killed himself and the producers are going to make me bring it up as much as possible for the sympathy votes but I am OK with that because at least that means I’ll get votes because I am not going to get them based on my mediocre voice and looks” Knight, or, as I like to call him, the One Direction Reject.

And what was that about those in certain time zones not being able to vote because the show started after voting closed? That just proves what I said last year that this is a popularity contest and not a talent competition. Because the contestants kept the same phone number anyone in any time zone could vote for their favorites. But what about those who vote on that night’s performance? Nope, they were screwed. I wonder why they chose to do it that way this year? Last year they were live in every time zone.

And I know this is simply because of the circumstances, but I missed the montages that usually pepper the final show of the season. Well, I guess they could have created some but seeing someone’s dad sweeping out the garage or their mother string bistro lights on trees in their back yard would have made for a very dull montage indeed!

The Wrong Right Fat English Chick?

My professions of love for Anderson Cooper are inevitably met with the comment, “You do know he’s gay, right?” To which I always reply, “He’s not gay, he just hasn’t met the right fat English chick yet.” But, alas and alack, I cannot say that anymore because… he has met the right fat English chick. Or has he? 

What constitutes a meeting? Dictionary.com’s first definition of it is the act of coming together. But does there have to be eye contact? Handshakes? Hugs? Hot sweaty sex? I need to know because I need to know if I met Anderson Cooper or not. 

Background: In the run-up to the Nevada caucus, Bernie Sanders held a rally on campus. He used the office building in which I am located as his base camp. The team from 60 Minutes was there to interview him. The room they used is less than 10 feet away from my desk. You all know where this is going, right? 

Anderson walks in the lobby, passes my desk, I say “Hello”, he says “Hello” back, he goes into the room… That is it. That is the sum total of my interaction with the love of my life. (I saw him leave but I was further away and he was in a hurry.) 

But does that I mean I met him? There was brief eye contact but no touching. Words were exchanged. There was no hot sweaty sex. BUT DID WE MEET??????? 

Because if we did, then, well, he has met a fat English chick but I am obviously not the right one. 

I’ve polled many people on whether or not we technically met. One co-worker (who then later bought me the Starbucks hot chocolate pictured above) asked if, after this encounter, could Anderson have picked me out of a lineup. That is a difficult question to answer because I am so memorable, what with the chins and ass situation, but I truly don’t think he would have, the encounter was so brief. 

So, readers, the question is… did I meet Anderson Cooper? Do I have to accept the fact that he is indeed gay, and no fat English chick is going to turn him? Or do I need to revise my comeback when I am told he is gay? Because “No, he just needs to meet me again” is rather lame. 

When this picture was taken he was in that room. So close... yet so far...

Oh, Anderson, did I meet you?

Year in Review – 2019 Edition

So it has been a somewhat interesting year, with major developments involving my car(s) and my job, but otherwise same old same old. Car and job deets below, but let’s start with the stats:

Still a born-again virgin!

Got five pedicures.

Experienced my first major earthquake. The two I’d been through before - one years ago in England and one just a few days prior to this one, were minor. This one was a 7.1. Sammy noticed it before I did because: drunk.

Saw one movie in the movie theater. I was expecting this number to be much higher because a new multiplex opened up in my driving comfort zone. But its bill of fare is super disappointing – the big popular movie of the moment (i.e., one I have no interest in seeing) playing on eight of its 10 screens and some obscure film in Tagalog on the other two.

Got a new bed and dresser. (Also side tables and lamps but I sold those. Sold my old bed too and so when the math was done, ended up paying about $25 for the bed and dresser – score!) Bed is meh but oh boy do I love the dresser – having to sell my old one during my bout of unemployment was upsetting. Now all my knickers are in one place! However, this purchase did lead to a bit of a meltdown – when I was trying (and failing miserably) to put the bedframe together on my own, I just lost it. I stubbed a toe and tore a hole in the box springs and damaged Sammy’s cat condo in the process. There are not many times I feel alone, despite my crushing loneliness, but this was one of them.

Saw Diana Ross in concert. Only went because I got free tickets because: cheap.

Ate at White Castle for (kind of) the first time. Kind of because about three years ago after a Christmas party on the Strip I wandered into a White Castle intent on eating there but the line was too long so I went up to a bunch of guys who’d already gotten their food and asked if one of them would sell me a slider for a buck. One of them did. Can’t remember if I liked it or not because I was slightly tipsy (no, really). Glad I ate there sober but am in no hurry to go back. Also tried the famous Popeyes’ fried chicken sandwich. That was yummy but then again it is a fried chicken sandwich so odds are I’d like it. Except Popeyes’ sides suck so if I ever ate it again I’d get it to go and get better sides elsewhere.

Speaking of food, I lost 9.2 pounds. I do wonder if that weight loss might have something to do with the fact that I think there is a conspiracy surrounding my local drinking and dining establishments: shortly after the P. F. Chang’s across the street closed, the casino next door got rid of its weekend Champagne brunch; then a nearby Mexican place closed. I loved going to all three of those places – the P. F. Chang’s because it had the earliest happy hour start time; the Champagne buffet because: champagne and buffets; and the Mexican place because it was the only nearby place that had a Sunday happy hour.

Spent $172.11 at Target, $269.21 at the dollar store and $192.33 at the Post Office.

And I spent exactly $8,000 on my car(s). Yes, the biggest development of my 2019: I have a new used car. My old one finally crapped out on me in August. No surprise, really, it was 20 years old (super low mileage, though). But it was a blessing in disguise because the A/C had not worked for a few years (you kind of need A/C in Las Vegas) and I was too lazy/cheap to do anything about it. I was very thankful that it did not die on me in an overly dramatic way – it just wouldn’t switch on one morning when I was at the Einstein’s across the street from the office. So no drama there but some followed in both the acquiring of its replacement and what happened when I was without a vehicle for over a month; suffice it to say that from the scarcity of rides offered to me by my co-workers during that month, it was confirmed that 99% of them do not give a shit about me.

But now I am the proud owner of a gray 2018 Toyota Yaris named (by my dear friend E., who came car shopping with me) Gandalf:

That $8,000 mentioned above includes the purchase of a Pittsburgh Penguins’ license plate frame because I am sick of seeing Golden Knights’ stuff everywhere; the cost of all the Lyfts I had to take because my co-workers hate me; and, of course, the down payment for Gandalf. That was the money I had been saving up for either a trip back to England or (somewhat less likely) a down payment on a condo. And the money I had been putting away every month is now going towards the monthly car payments. Sigh. Such is life.

And of course those who know me well know that it is not a coincidence that that total amount is so… round. So, full disclosure: yes, on the morning of December 31, 2019, I did indeed go to the gas station and pre-pay for $11.98’ worth of gas so that number could be so… round!

So, ready for the annual mileage report? In 2019 I put 818 miles on my old car and 393 on the new one for a grand total of 1,212. (And no, I did not drive a little more just to make that number so satisfying!)

And I think I am going to end now and save the job drama for another post because this one is way too long as it is; suffice it to say that what was once a job I loved so much is now horrible, but… the person responsible for making it so horrible just quit! I’ll post about it soon, promise.

Happy new year!

Sammy’s 8th Annual Holiday Message

I have the day off today so I can’t be arsed to write anything. I’d much rather read the latest murder mystery I am into or watch the daytime TV I never otherwise get a chance to watch (“About $100, Bob.”). Nope, writing these posts is work I would rather do at work. But Sammy did want me to make sure you all know he wishes you all a happy holiday season.

Feast of the Virgin, Year VII

Sorry for the crappy pic, I was halfway through that bottle before I remembered to take it!

The Obligatory American Idol Post

What a blah season. Wow, the pretty, straight, (mostly) white boy won. The only surprise about the top three was that the bland white girl lost to someone of color. (Although I think it might be better for Madison’s emotional health that she did not win because you just know that someone has already told her that she needs to lose weight.) For the life of me I cannot see why the judges creamed their jeans over Alejandro. I mean, yeah, if this was East Los Angeles Coffee Shop Idol, then he would have won it hands down. And was it just me or was his hometown visit a little… sparse?

But still loving the pared-down format. The judges were as toothless as ever. I miss Simon. And I am sure his mother loves him, but I fucking hate Bobby Bones. Did anyone believe that Ryan was actually sick that one time he hosted? And I know I pose some version of this threat every year, but I really mean this one: if he takes over from Ryan, I am never going to watch this show again. 

And something else that is always in these types of posts: bring back Brian Dunkleman.

Year in Review – 2018 Edition

This is a long post. Not because my 2018 was particularly interesting, but because I am still sticking to my One October pact of not writing anything negative. But I do feel I am allowed to be a little lenient in my YIR post, so here goes.

But I will start on something positive, how’s that? Because financially, it was an interesting year. I managed to save a little; enough, in fact, to bring me back to pre-layoff figures – yes, I ended 2018 with the same dollar amount in the bank as I did 2013, two weeks before I was laid off. Five years to catch up, that’s not bad, considering how long I was out of work. It was not without sacrifice, however – I neglected both my health and the health of my car (yep, still no A/C). And I can’t remember the last time I bought new underwear. And I never go anywhere or do anything (aside: I recently filled in one of those mental health questionnaires and one of the questions was, Have you lost interest in doing things? How can I answer that? It is hard to lose interest in doing things when you don’t do things in the first place!). I suspect 2019 might be a little more expensive, however – I’ll probably have to move and I think this is the year for Sammy’s rabies shots. And I really should consider going back on cholesterol medication. And I’d really like to visit Denver.

Other financial highlights of 2018 include spending $232.55 at Target, $181.50 at the Post Office, and $191.42 at the dollar store.

Romantically, it has been another virgin year, but some of my former paramours had an interesting time. Prettiest Boy in the World moved his GF and her kids in with him. Not quite sure how I feel about that. And on the Facebook page of one of my Layover Larrys (i.e., guys I’d hook up with if they were in town. Oh, this post is about this exact Larry!) there was a pic of him and some chick celebrating their anniversary. OK, I am not naive – I know he wasn’t saving himself for me, but what was interesting about this is that this is the first time EVER that he has allowed one of his chicks to post a pic on Facebook. There they were, in some Italian restaurant, with a plate of cheesecake with Happy Anniversary written on it in jam or whatever. Gag. But what makes this, um, interesting? Ironic? A deeper stab through my heart? - was that they celebrated this anniversary in Las Vegas. In a restaurant less than two miles away from where I live. Talk about kicking me whilst I am down, right? (But what is extra funny is that the first hundred or so times I looked at the post, it never registered that they were in Las Vegas (I do not like Italian food so I am not familiar with names of Italian restaurants in town). It was only on a holiday weekend when I was not in the best of moods (duh) and I had been imbibing a little (a lot) and I was reading through the comments and one of them was “We love that place, we always go there when we visit Las Vegas.” FML.)

And another former conquest died. Younger than me. Such a shock. I am not sure what the cause of death was (although I have a suspicion). I have the email address of a friend of his and I have written an email asking him for details but I have yet to send it. I think because if I do, it will make it official, and I want to go on pretending for a while that he is still around. He was one of those guys that I always thought I would hook up again with at some point. And, oh, wow, how we met – not a meet cute at all, but a meet hot. We worked in the same building and one time we were alone in the elevator and got chatting and I saw that he had pressed 6 on the panel and so I asked him what he did on the sixth floor. He told me and just then we arrived on the sixth floor. He looked at the panel, stepped out of the elevator, turned around and asked, “And what do you do on the eighth floor?” And I, sultry AF, with a coquettish raise of an eyebrow, said “Everything” just as the elevator doors closed. It was steamy!

What else? Gained zero point two pounds. Got six pedicures. Stayed at Mandalay Bay on a work retreat, three months after the shooting. That affected me more than I thought it would. Got a jury duty summons but didn’t have to go in at all (I was dreading another repeat of what happened last time - see here). Saw zero movies at the theater. There’s supposed to be a new movie theater opening up in my driving comfort zone soon, so hopefully that will change.

Speaking of driving, drum roll please, this year’s mileage was… 1,306. Sad.

(Actual on-Sammy's-life before and after pics!)

What else? Oh, yeah, Craig’s List got rid of their personal ads section, because of some new sex-trafficking law that could have held them responsible if anything bad happened between people who met through their site. Ugh. Back when I was inclined to date, I used Craig’s List all the time. In fact there was a time when all my dates started through Craig’s List. I guess if I had any libido left I’d be upset but, as it is, well, meh.

Oh, and the P.F. Chang’s across the street from me closed. This was super depressing, because it had the earliest happy hour start time. On the days when I did happy hour (usually the day before a major holiday) I would start there and time it so that I could get at least two (maybe three) drinks in and get the check taken care of in time to walk to the Bahama Breeze just down the street a little in time for their happy hour to start. Now I am forced to go to the local casino for their happy hour which is pretty pathetic (only about three or four choices). That is extra bad because I am sometimes temped to sit down and play a few hands of Blackjack or a few rounds of Craps and, OK, OK, last time I did this I did win $50 but still, stupid P. F. Chang’s.

OK, so not too negative. 

And I will end this YIR with a highlight of my year. Thanks to a very generous birthday present from PLL, I got my DNA analyzed. This was cool on so many levels, not the least of which is that it confirmed the fact that I always knew I was Jewish: