Signed, sealed, delivered... I am so NOT yours

"How do you tell someone it's over? You send them a notarized letter, right? Well, what if the recipient is your notary?"
~Angela Martin, "The Office"

For once, I identify with the tightly wound Angela. I mean, I've never sent a notarized letter, but I'm near needing some sort of restraining order. How many texts do I ignore before he gets the message? Seriously, if you want to get on my good side, don't text me at 7 a.m. on a Sunday. I am not awake. It does not endear you to me in any way.

Today was the first Monday I've worked in over a month, and this marks the first full week in nearly six. Plus five trips to Rogers. But I got a lot done today. I love my new office. I was turning into one of those bosses... the ones who are out of touch and don't know what people do on a daily basis. Our admin is on vacation this week and today was eye-opening. I mean, I knew she was all kinds of awesome, but I had no idea all of the junk that she deals with so I don't have to. I am humbled. I don't want to answer the phone anymore. No, I don't know where your class is. Where's my diet coke?

I also realized today how not good it is that I'm within walking distance of Target and the mall. It's super convenient to run errands at lunch, but not good for the ol' checkbook.

Dad and V came up after work to treat me to a belated birthday dinner, then I introduced V to my beloved Promenade. I'm sure my Dad is not pleased.

I was uber lazy this weekend, but I did get to see the Texas fam on the 4th, and I'm hoping Jen updates her blog soon with the story about burying the 60 lb. dog in a plastic box full of ice and leaving him in the kitchen overnight. On her birthday. Please, please forgive me for laughing, but that makes my own birthday experience seem less painful. Sure, no one came to my party, but at least nothing died. Except perhaps my dignity.

Tomorrow's another busy day, then it's off to Tulsa for dinner at the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate Nanner's birthday. I walked four miles tonight in preparation.

And Christy, in case you're reading this, I promise to update the other blog soon. I'm praying for guidance!

Oh, and is anyone else sick of hearing about Michael Jackson? Over the weekend, Steve McNair was murdered, there is a serial killer loose in South Carolina, Roger Federer made tennis history, Palin resigned as Governor of Alaska, and our President is decreasing our nuclear capacity, yet Michael Jackson was the subject of the first ten stories on GMA this morning. People, let's get some perspective! He was talented, yet a freak. Let's not canonize him anytime soon.

The way you make me feel

It's been a tragic day. First Farrah and then Michael Jackson. Not a great time for those who've had excessive plastic surgery.

I barely remember when Farrah was on "Charlie's Angels," but I'm pretty sure my brother had that famous poster on his wall. You know the one... red one-piece swimsuit... obviously cold.

I do, however, remember vividly when Michael Jackson used to be cool. Back when he was still black and had a normal nose. Before he started naming all of his kids "Michael" and covering their faces with veils. Before Neverland and the creepy fixation with little boys.

My first album was "Thriller." It was a 33 LP, and I listened to it on my Donny & Marie record player. I remember staying up to watch "Friday Night Videos" to catch "Beat It." That seems so weird now, when we can watch anything on iTunes and YouTube. Of course, I also used to keep a cassette recorder by the radio in case they played a song I liked, so that I could tape it. Now, if I think of a song I'd like to listen to, I fork over 99 cents and voila, I own it. And there's no DJ talking over the beginning of it.

It's weird how much has happened in the past four decades. 37 years ago tonight, a crazy man was loose in the small town of Hartford, and my mom was in labor.

I'm really tired and ready for bed, but trying to enjoy my last few hours of being 36. I'm not quite sure why I feel so old this year. Perhaps it's because I hang out with 20-somethings. Or maybe because I'm dating men who have grandkids. More likely, it's because I remember record players and rotary phones and Michael Jackson before he was a freak.

The good news of the day? Had to buy smaller jeans for the big party tomorrow night. Yay me!

Wait a Minute, Miss Pill

Moving to a new place is a great opportunity to downsize and get rid of things you don't really need. In the past few weeks, I've gone through numerous boxes of treasures to determine what I really want to keep as keepsakes and what's simply been taking up space. It's astounding what we keep for no good reason.

The advent of digital music has changed storage needs as well. While it used to take three or four huge boxes to contain the 5,000+ songs in my musical library, now they're all located on my computer. So, for the past few days, I've been downloading all of my music to my laptop and getting rid of the homemade CDs.

Tonight, while adding some Michael Jackson, I came across one of his better songs, "The Way You Make Me Feel," and it made me think of simpler times, before MJ became a freak and my best pal Tina thought the lyrics to that song were "Wait a MInute, Miss Pill." And I laughed out loud (that's LOL to all of you texting geeks).

Here are some more:

From Blowing in the Wind: "The ants are my friends, they're blowing in the wind."
From Bad Moon Rising: "There's a bathroom on the right."

And my favorite, Phoebe from Friends discussing her favorite Elton John song about "that guy from Who's the Boss... 'Hold me close young Tony Danza.' "

Talk to me... what are some lyrics that you had wrong?!?