Today

Today's Random Playlist Highlights:
"New Sensation," INXS
"Connection," Elastica
"Sweet Dreams," Eurhythmics
"Fugee-La," Fugees
"Good," Better than Ezra
"Gapetto," Belly
"Real Love," Mary J. Blige
"Scenario," Tribe Called Quest

Today's Menu:
Breakfast: Coffee and a Marlboro Light
Lunch: Cold Pizza
Dinner: TBD

Today's Longest Phone Call:
(tie)
Jade Daniels
Ashley Kruiz

Today's Most Missed Person:
(tie)
Sean
Tyler

Today's First Phone Call and Emotion:
Krystee and Fright (pre coffee and cigarette)

Today's Productive Errand Run:
Atlanta Costume to return cofetti blasters and then Publix and Chevron

Friend B Gone

I'm having some issues. So, yeah, I'm one of those MySpace and Friendster junkies that looks at my profile a few times every single day. It's up there with my e-mail and mobile phone. I know, it's odd. At the very least, I'm not a Trekkie or anything (cough, Tyler, Chris, Sean, Scott, cough).

At any rate, I've noticed that my number of friends keeps going up and down. How is this possible when A) I had no pending friend requests; B) I didn't approve anyone recently; C) although people could have deleted me as a friend it still doesn't make sense that it goes down one day and up one day.

Do I have ghost friends that pop in and out of my life a la Patrick Swayze? If so, that's really disturbing. What is this yo-yo effect on my friends? Well, to be totally honest, I don't even talk to half of those people. Hell, a good portion of them I despise. You have to keep up appearances i guess. Yeah, I'm having some issues.

Say it with me, class: Conflicted.

CHECKMATE.

So, today has been a source of serious stress. Without revealing too many details - gotta protect the innocent and the assholes you know - there was already a huge fire to put out while playing a pretty intense game of chess. So with extinguisher in one hand, capturing rooks and bishops with the other, I realized another evil force was coming to a boil.

Actually, let me revise, the thought of today was a source of serious stress. As the day progressed I realized my inferno was almost completely extinguished, the first game of chess was almost done and the evil force was actually just a lot of hot air. Yay, me.

Our new "big brother" is actually pretty cool and my first impression, I'm glad to say, was more out of exhaustion, lots of medication and jealousy of his health while I was a walking corpse. So, I take it all back for now. Luckily, I didn't sort that thought out on the blog and opted to keep it in the head. And OP, you can suck it. Play on your side of Midtown and we won't have no problems.

Finally, I think it's funny that my club ended up on the blog I despise - PerezHilton.com -- Reichen, Davis from Real World Denver and two other unidentified gay men allegedly got on down after they left the club. I really don't give a shit either way, I'm just amused by my club attracting every gay reality tv personality that comes to Atlanta. Bring them on. Although, I really liked Carson the best; he can come back anytime. Oh, and Leslie Jordan, oh wait, he has real talent and wasn't picked as a potential dramatic confrontation.

Life is good. Queen wins the game. CHECKMATE, bitches.

Check, Mate?

One of my mentors advised me to approach every job as a game of chess. The reason being he said was that "in our business, a hand shake means next to nothing and contracts get broken every day." So, here I am playing chess. And, I think I'm pretty good at chess.

Don't get me wrong, I heart me job, but I'm not naive enough to think anything is permanent especially in "our business." Quite simply, it's a slippery slope but luckily, I've lived in Florida, I know how to deal with an overabundance of moisture.

Now, here's where it gets interesting: So you're playing this game of chess and you're thinking three moves ahead, not two, you've got your opponent figured out and you've even got him on the run. You're pretty much kicking ass when you realize that before the game is even finished that another game with another opponent has started. What do you do when you've been concentrating so hard on the first task that the second game already has you down a couple of pawns?

Yup, call in the Queen. Or, in my case, an army of them.

Say Hello

Class, please allow me to introduce y'all to my dear friend, Tyler.

She's got a lot to say and can rattle off volumes of information about several subjects within a single breath.

Yeah, she's pretty f'n amazing. Check her out:

http://tylerjenee.blogspot.com/

I Hate...

...being sick. I hate my co-workers that got me sick. I hate being bothered while I'm sick.

I love Ambien. I love severe cold/sinus medication. I love my DVD collection. I love Bravo for playing Top Chef all the time. I love Zifty.com. I love my friends that drop off soup. I love Joe's on Juniper's carrot cake.

Armani go sleepy now.

Speed of Gossip

So, light and sound are supposedly the fastest things in the universe. Personally, I think the speed of gossip is somewhere between light and sound.

In the past two days, both of my phones have been ringing off the hook with inquiries of what happened at work. Damn fuckers, do you have a hidden camera in the office? Honestly, it's none of your fucking business, why don't you ask him? If he tells you, then it's all good, but it's not my story to tell. Perhaps it's my 102 degree fever talking, or it's all the severe cold and sinus medication in my system. I'll get back to y'all on that one.

So, I met the big boss the other night. From what I've heard, I should fear him - a lot. But, I don't. Personally, I think he's pretty fucking funny and charming actually. Then again, I appreciate candor. Hmm, come to think of it, I was drugged up that night too, I'll get back to y'all on that one.

I wonder if he thought I was some crackhead with glazed over eyes and a thirty second reaction time. Who knows? Y'all would probably know before I do.

After all, the speed of gossip is somewhere between light and sound.

I'm Not Here For Your Entertainment

It seems like I've been a raging lunatic lately. I haven't been cussing people out per se, but I have been more, umm, let's say honest with them. You know how people say or do something stupid and in your attempt to be polite, you simply ignore it, let it slide or don't even justify it with a response? Yeah, not it. Well, not anymore.

The other night, each and every one of us at work had to sign a company memo saying we would not drink on our shifts all weekend long. Ok, no problem. The shit is not permanent; it's just for this particular weekend. Cool, give me the pen, I'll sign it. Why did one of our FRONT DOOR staff get busted drinking? How fucking stupid. It's less than eight hours, people. Fucking eh, let's try to be a bit more inconspicuous, shall we? Busted, no explanation needed, have a nice night and we MIGHT talk about it tomorrow. I hate to sound insensitive, but are you kidding me?

These are rules, they are absolute. You signed that you read and will comply with them. These policies are not written simply so you can figure out how you can get around them. They are there for your protection. But, fuck the rules. I know, let's throw them all out the window and do whatever the fuck we want. But, that's ok, those rules are there for entertainment purposes anyway, not for anything serious, right?

Ok, moving forward, or backward in this case. I get a phone call:

"Is it ok to stop by and have a drink with you?"

Me: No, it's kind of a crazy night, rain check?

"..."

Me: Ok, I gotta run, I'm about to go into a meeting.

Then, I get the text message:

"i'm coming by, ok?"

Me: Not really a good time. Talk later.

He comes by anyway. I can't hang out or have a quick drink. He gets upset and calls. I'm in another meeting and can't talk, he throws a hissy fit and leaves. I get annoyed.

I decided next week, I'm going to drink a fifth of vodka and show up at his office. It should be fun. And, if he doesn't have time to chat, I, too shall throw a hissy fit; I shall send several text messages and not attempt to understand that HE is at WORK, trying to make a living, trying to be professional.

After all, he is there simply for my entertainment.

The Reality of Reality TV

Ok, so I'll be the first to admit that I'm a sucker for certain Reality TV shows. I used to religiously watch the Real World, but lost interest shortly after the second go round in New York. By then, a whole new crop of Reality TV shows had come into play and seven strangers no longer interested me despite how hot/chemically imbalanced/confrontational they were.

Now, the new season features the token gay roommate that is hot and chemically imbalanced and confrontational. And, he lives in Atlanta. And, he stops by the club all the time. I, along with the staff can attest to the fact that that he's depicted pretty accurately by the editors of the show. You know the first or second episode where he gets filthy and gets all loud mouthed with his roommates? Yeah, that happened to the staff. Too bad we didn't get a third episode apology.

This made me think about previous Real World token gays and how joyed the staff would be at the sight of Norm, Pedro (yeah, I know, I know), Ruthie, Danny or Genesis. But, no, we get the hot, chemically imbalanced and confrontational one. Great.

You know what? I now realize why the seven strangers no longer interest me. They're assholes.

Howdy '07!

So, it's a brand new year. I'm in my new place (well, sorta, I've completed about 70% of my unpacking), I'm still digging my job and I've come to terms with a few things. I refuse to call them resolutions, simply because once they're labeled as such -- they're destined for failure.

First and foremost, I've made a pact with some friends to cut down on extracurricular activities -- more on this later as I fail/succeed. It's going to get interesting. Baby steps, people, baby steps. The following signature Arman statements will be deleted from future social functions:

"Oh, just one more for the road."

"I'll need a chaser for that."

"I lost count after five."

"Wanna split one?"

"No, you don't understand. This bathroom does accomodate more than three people."

Secondly, I've decided drive-by salutations via MySpace and Friendster are not true forms of communication. Not to name names, Sean Selman, but Kim Crawford and I have decided you suck for your inability to call or send a proper e-mail. Yes, you've moved away; yes, you're practically married; but no, you can not just ignore your ATL family and get away with it. We've decided to replace you with cutie pie we keep running into everywhere we go - Toy Party, WETbar and most recently, Target. He shall remain anonymous for his own safety. But, yes Kim Crawford and I would love to come to your July 4 event on your rooftop. Kim might even spin if you can guarantee some lesbian attendance. Thanks.

Third, I shall begin blogging more often. I miss writing and no, advertising copy does not count. I shall share my fucked up stories with the world once again and make people laugh/hate me.

Fourth, I shall no longer be the bad influence/enabler. People will get cussed out instead.

Fifth, I shall make an attempt to be less of a snob. I shall attempt to be nicer to people I don't know and I will try to carry on a conversation instead of walking away while someone is in mid-sentence.

Sixth, I shall no longer point and laugh at people. Even. If. They. Do. Deserve. it.

Seventh, I shall try to get up BEFORE the double digits.

Eighth, I shall travel more often. I will fulfill my dreams of visiting far away exotic places and countries that allow aforementioned extracurricular activities in pseudo-resolution one.

Ninth, I will organize my apartment/life.

And, finally, I shall no longer stress over other people's actions/drama. What they do and think is their business and I shall only worry if my world/personal space/job is affected. It's all about me, I kind of forgot that at some point.

Happy New Year Bitches!
Arman