Stage fright. You know how that goes.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:18 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 Alternately, you do your best work for your regulars.

Posted by: Darrell at February 21, 2008 01:59 PM (Wo4hX)

2

Posted by: Attila Girl at February 21, 2008 02:47 PM (larLB)

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No girl could ever have a better stalker than you: I got the little model Cruiser last night. This morning the Chrysler racing jacket and the Hendrick's gin caddy arrived.

And I'm still wearing that cashmere cardigan every day: the buttons appear to be made of real bone, and that sweater is the softest thing I own. Perfect for wearing on its own here, or layering on the East Coast.

I'm about to take a short break from the salt mines; I might read the James Thurber book I have stashed here . . .

Isn't life delicious?

Posted by: Attila Girl at 01:03 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 If only there was some way to say these things in a less public forum . . . ;-)

Posted by: Darrell at February 15, 2008 04:00 PM (a2NE8)

2 Oh. Did you want more modifiers . . .?

Posted by: Attila Girl at February 15, 2008 06:17 PM (larLB)

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Joy:

Dad,

Please don't shorten people's names, particularly in your business correspondence. Also, be careful about whom you cc: your email to, especially when it's marked "private." You can always forward email to people separately, or use the blind-copy function.

Joy:

Dad,

I didn't mean to sound bitchy, there. I'm just in a hurry . . .

—J

Joy's Father:

My Baby,

Gosh—I never met a bitchy person.

Love,

Dad

Other than the three he married, and the one he produced. Whoops; did I say that out loud?

(My brother and my half-sister are nice people. I'm the black sheep.)

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:24 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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However, it's with people I see on, like, a weekly basis. A suit would be a bit much.

Also, it's in California—where it's easy to overdo it.

Any thoughts?

And let's not it mixed up with this thread.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:22 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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But first I have to prowl the internet, and . . . there's nothing on.

I'm like a child, really: "there's nothing to dooooooooo."

(Actually, I want to watch a video, but Safari and YouTube are not getting along right now. So I guess I get to learn about that delayed gratifithingie.)

Posted by: Attila Girl at 01:28 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I'm headed out to South Central, to see if I can score some estrogen.

Back later.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 04:31 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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When one has a cheese Danish for dinner, is it correct to have a slice of pumpkin pie for dessert? Please advise.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:01 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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"Why on earth would you want to do that?"

"Remember? I'm having the blog chicks over for pasta tomorrow night."

"Isn't it a bit cold on the balcony?" he asks.

"Aha!" I had him, there. "I told them to bring their coats, in case they wanted to smoke after dinner."

"How many of the blog chicks smoke cigars, Dear?"

"Well, let's see." I closed my eyes. "I smoke. And Justene smokes. And sometimes Justene's husband. So that makes three of us. Neither Caltech Girl nor her husband are into cigars."

"And how many smokes are in your humidor right now?" There's a smile playing around the edge of his lips.

"Well, there are nineteen full-size ones, and then five of those little minis—the Partagas from Cuba."

He steps on the brakes as we near the Chrysler service shop. "That might be enough, you know."

"Ah, but we might be able to talk Baldilocks into having one."

"Which could bring you down to only fifteen. I see."

"Wait, wait!" I burst out, and for a second A the H veers to the side of the road, thinking he's about to miss the driveway to the service department.

"What the hell?" he asks. He spots the driveway and makes the turn.

"Sometimes one of Justene's teenagers will have a drag on one of the cigars, or a sip of red wine from one of our glasses."

"Okay." He's gritting his teeth, now. "Let's say the two girls get completely carried away, and you're left with a baker's dozen."

"Would you pull over here, Honey?" I ask him, sweetly. "I've got to scoot. More cigars, and—more wine. Thanks for reminding me about the twins. See you at home!"

If I had to live with me I think I'd poison myself. But that onerous task falls to someone else. I mean, the living with, rather than the poisoning. So far.

Say Goodnight, Joy.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 08:01 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 Enjoy those cigars! I've moved inside the garage to smoke now as it has gotten a bit cold. A wireless connection, some good rum, a good cigar and it is all I need for my little blogging haven.

Posted by: Cigar Jack at November 30, 2007 09:44 PM (BW9Zv)

2 Reminds me of the time, about twenty years ago, when two guys in my shop became fathers in quick succession. This was before smoking was banned indoors through the military (I was in the AF), so we were lighting up the stogies in the shop, although Captain Callamaras told me that the cigar was not to pass through the doorway into area of the building where his office and admin section was. The brand we got included some King Edwards and the kind with the pink wrapper that say "It's a Girl" on them, which are probably the very worst cigars of all. The shop stunk for weeks after that.

Posted by: John at December 01, 2007 01:49 PM (3F9tM)

3 Goodnight, Joy

Posted by: Darrell at December 02, 2007 02:32 PM (eEcre)

4 Cute, D. I managed to air the dining room out pretty well last night. I usually have to wash whatever I'm wearing afterward, though.

Posted by: Attila Girl at December 02, 2007 04:43 PM (aywD+)

5 I couldn't take it anymore--can't people do what they're told? Cigars do have a way of keeping the memories stale. I'd suggest a patio heater, but I'm not that brave. People that lived by the stock yards never seemed to mind. Or notice. Febreze will help with all those other absorbent/adsorbent surfaces if you don't care to get used to it, though.

Posted by: Darrell at December 02, 2007 07:52 PM (xX5JM)

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"Bookkeeping in general, is not out to get you. And neither is arithmetic in particular."

What do you know? Have you felt the mind rays emanating from the QuickBooks program? The palpable malice with which the calculator bombards me?

Note to self: resume wearing tinfoil hats to work.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:08 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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. . . the problem of Mandy taking up 70% of the loveseat, leaving very little room for me. I swung my feet and legs above her body, resting the right foot on the farther arm of the tiny couch.

The left knee is propping up my mom's laptop, and Mandy has her nose resting on my right knee.

Time for another sleeping pill. It turns out they work better if you take them with other pills (I picked a few at random), and wash the whole chemical salad down with some beer.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 03:35 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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my father tells me. "Given your genetic heritage, and the fact that you're prone to depression, it's just amazing that you aren't overweight."

"I'm not sure it's to my credit," I tell him.

"But look at your relatives!"

"I've seen them," I respond. "But when I get depressed, the last thing I want to do is eat."

I was hearing this crap from my stepfather when I was 15 years old. As if there were some fat monster out there, just waiting to pounce on me.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:28 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Day 30 after the date of my first invoice for Ye Olde Public Utility, and no check in my mailbox—despite the assurances I received that it was cut a few days ago. (Yes, boys and girls. But was it mailed?)

I'll wait a few more days, and then I will either have my attorney send them a tense little note, and/or blog about the scale on which this organization wastes money. (I've worked for large organizations before, but they've been private ones. I was really a babe in the woods before that gig.)

Attila Girl wondering how she's going to buy gasoline

if she keeps working for public utilities. "If I don't receive

payment, I'm going to turn your proofreading off!"

Posted by: Attila Girl at 05:59 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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I showed my mother how to conduct a search on the web.

I'm not sure I was thinking clearly at the time.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 08:05 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I still love David Cassidy. He was my first crush: I was eight years old, but very passionate.

And he's turned into quite a showman/performer. Not to mention a good sport about all the swooning middle-aged ladies who attend his shows.

Not that I was one of them about five years ago at a little theatre in Las Vegas' Rio casino. Oh, no.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:34 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 Nice blog you have here And don't worry about David Cassidy, every little girl has their crazy crushes..hehe! Nice to meet you Miss Attila!

Posted by: Christy at October 17, 2007 08:23 PM (lETs9)

2 I agree, nice blog! Everyone who agrees should send you premium gin!

Posted by: Darrell at October 17, 2007 09:35 PM (cZ7zg)

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HipNerd is there. He's helping my mother get her Mac configured properly. My hope is that she'll start using the Web (so she can have any info she wants at her fingertips) and the Net (so I can write her little missives at all hours—or when I actually remember what I wanted to ask her about).

He asks for suggestions about what should go on her "start" page.

"How about a link to Science News?" I suggest. (Attila the Mom is a former science teacher.)

"Or we could put in a link to your blog," he remarks slyly.

"Great idea," I tell him. "But unfortunately, I can't remember the URL for my blog. I don't even recall its name right now."

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:20 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Well, sort of. New project for a longstanding client.

It's going to be kind of fun.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:38 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I guess I'll have to either update my avatar this week for the "summer" that's almost gone (September is often the hottest month around here), or go ahead and "autumnize" the poor thing.

Seriously, kids: the party's almost over. I wore long pants today, and I'm going around the house in socks. I've closed some of the windows; it's intense.

Sometime before March or so, I expect I'll have to turn the heat on a few times.

But you explain the indignity of fishing a jacking out of one's closet to people elsewhere in the country, and they just look at you funny, as if temperatures below 60 degrees were a normal thing to put up with. Weird.

Long pants, I tell you! What's next?—closed shoes?

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:52 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I just spent my last dime getting my car tuned, in preparation for The Big Fall Gig at the public utility in a few weeks.

But better I address all that now than when I'm actually depending on those wheels during the commute.

And now I'm going to crash for a few hours before I get up to do a little paperwork and finish up my volunteer nonsense for this month. But one cannot just sleep; not without a book. I just finished The Substance of Style a few days ago, and it was so freakin' good I decided I just had to pick up The Future and Its Enemies again.

I certainly had trouble finding the latter book, though: I checked every pile of juicy readables in the house before finally asking my husband if he'd seen it. It turns out he'd placed it in a . . . what do you call those things? . . . it was in a . . . a bookcase.

The crazy stuff you put up with when you marry someone.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 06:40 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I came down with an acute case of clientitis—that blessed, blessed disease.

And I spent two consecutive weekends on the couch, alternating between Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and the latest issue of The Atlantic.

It wasn't the actual hours I put in this past week and the week before: it was a question of trying to figure out how to use a limited amount of time most effectively, and being as useful to the client as possible, when one of the pivotal players there was in a rather difficult position. I had to make continuous judgement calls regarding what matters he would or would not want brought to his attention.

Total mess. Knocked the stuffing out of me. Plus, my battery problems make it harder for me to work on the laptop from the living room. So, Dead Tree Media seemed like the obvious choice when it was time to go into nervous collapse.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:00 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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are the result of grotesque hyperbole.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:48 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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