And the babies just keep on comin'...

I have been at my current place of work since January 2005. Up until now, there has always been someone pregnant in my office. If I tallied correctly, there have been six, count 'em, six babies coming out of my coworkers. The director of our department recently had a baby. No word that there were any other pregnancies so we thought the baby chain was broken and it was safe to drink the water again.





WRONG.




One of my coworkers (who got back from maternity leave, oh, about six months ago) is pregnant again. Four months pregnant, to be exact. Sure, I'm happy for her but WTF!?!

I guess I work in a baby-making factory or something...

Also work related, I went out with a co-worker of mine (not the one who's pregnant) the other night and had such a rip-roaring time that I had to leave work early the next day, I was feeling so awful. I think it was much worse than the Margarita Incident of 2002. I swear they serve undistilled grain alcohol at happy hour. Not pretty. I later received a text picture from him of the black eye he recieved over the weekend while at some club. He tripped and hit his face on the edge of a table. Definitely not pretty. I think perhaps that I should no longer hang out with this type of person. He could be a bad influence.

In other news, E-money is finally warming up to me. For a while he was playing dead when I was around. He also used to feign sleep. But I figure, it's okay if it took him 2 months to come around. It takes time to get to know people, right? Two months is nothing in one little kid's lifetime.

Wednesday night spoiler

I get riled up about many things (the state of our nation, the MTA, the high price of cereal, FedEx package slips left on my front door, etc), but what really upsets me these days--and is much closer to home--is when something disrupts my Wednesday night happy hour. It doesn't happen often, but it does happen. This particular week it was a person who caused me grief:

There was a very drunk man who kept harassing me. This sort of thing never happens to me--apparently my intimidation skills do not work on drunks or something. He comes RIGHT up behind me like he's my backside siamese twin and offers to buy me a drink. My glass was still 2/3 full so I politely refused. He ordered one regardless. Now, first off, I'm in my home-bar with BFF bartender. I'm only going to pay like $2 for my drink anyway. And secondly, I refuse to touch a drink that a stranger buys for me and handles. For christ's sake, don't touch my fucking straw or lime!!! Oh, and stop breathing down my neck...

We had to move twice to avoid this man. Thank god my friends were there to try and protect me by sitting on either side of me in corners. I kept giving BFF bartender dirty looks for continuing to serve the guy. I was also worried he might vomit on us. Granted, this guy was pretty pathetic--there are obviously issues at hand if you've been drinking alone for 7 hours straight. But eventually he set his sights on some other girl in the bar so I was free to enjoy the rest of my evening in peace. With our $22 tab.

If he's there (and drunk) the next time I go, I may have to throw down. There's a large Corona beer pinata I can hit him with...

And now it's Dirty's turn for a very happy birthday

It was the Dirty one's thirty-one earlier this week and I didn't get around to posting (yeah, I know, it's been a while...). Anyways, a happy belated birthday to you, Dirty! He's off to fulfill his best man duties elsewhere. If we're lucky, perhaps he'll post his speech?

In other news, I am bored out of my mind at work and struggling to keep awake. Perfect opportunity to blog, no? Ninety more minutes until I can leave. Tick tock. Tick tock.

I don't have any good stories at the moment, so let me tell you about my July 4th weekend:

Saturday: helped some of the Regulars move into their new apartment. At 9am. After a late night. From El Barrio down to East End Avenue. Fancy. In an unmarked yellow truck. Ghetto. The move went relatively smoothly, but you wouldn't know that from all of the bruises I have on my body. It looks like I was in some sort of brawl. You know, the kind where you can hit anywhere but the face? Not pretty. It also didn't help that I slammed my wrist in the closet door in my apartment a few days later. What's one more large bruise among several dozen, right? The best thing is that 2 blocks from their new apartment, on my way to the crosstown bus, I came across a 7-Eleven. That Slurpee was the best thing EVER. It totally made up for all the sweat and pain.

Sunday: woke up early again to catch a bus to Pennsylvania where some friends always have a long weekend camp & cook out. I historically never go, but this is the year of new things, apparently. Not only do I now eat mac-n-cheese, as well as mixing cheese with meat (mmm. grilled cheese with ham: my hangover remedy), I am now willing to go to the camp out. Which essentially entailed me hanging out at the pool with my best friends and reading In Touch magazine. Nnd when not sunning myself, I was stuffing my face with food. Any place with a 45lb rib roast on an outdoor spit can't be half bad.

Monday: I worked. And I emailed people I have been meaning to email over the past three years in a desperate attempt to get some response while trying to make it through the day. We got out early and I high-tailed it to the store to buy Dirty's birthday present. I can't say the camping store people were top notch in customer service, but at least they didn't seem quite as sullen as the employees of every Blockbuster Video store in the nation or the dim sum restaurants of Hong Kong.

Tuesday: Independence Day! My one day to sleep in this whole long weekend. Of course I was up at 8am. Dammit. I watched the fireworks from the 28th floor balcony of my friend and old prof, Dr. P. She baked us lemon meringue pies. I think it made up for the lack of A/C (and fans) in her apartment. I am not a big fireworks girl, having been dragged to see them by Mom every year of my childhood, but I have to admit they are pretty. This year they had cool ones that looked like jellyfish. Much cuter than the littler spermy ones.

And so a good week comes to an end. Now I only have another hour to waste before I'm off like a prom dress...