Hyped up on booze and nowhere to go
Every day since the layoffs, the kids at my office have had booze fests. You just can't beat getting hyped up on margaritas and watching cable during the work day! Today's drinking game was every time someone said "what are they gonna do? Fire you?" we had to drink. So we did.

Before the layoffs, I thought for sure that my number was up, that I'd be outta here so I started interviewing. Then when I found out that I wasn't laid off, I didn't know what to do. Propelled by morbid curiousity and too polite to cancel, I went for round 2 with a company yesterday. It was worth my time just for the fictionalizable value of the folks I met, including a hard-core engineer who knew nothing to ask except "how do you make a directory in UNIX" and "how would you code a table that would look like this:"

THIS HI!

AND THIS Hi There

Which, as you can see, I can. Had any of these people taken 10 minutes to look at my portfolio, all of which is available online via the always-convenient Internet, they could have seen the kinds of things I've produced instead of trying to tout their trumped up egos by asking me stupid "HTML questions".

I don't mind preparing for interviews by learning about the company but I do mind when the people interviewing me don't even take the time to read the description of the job I'm applying for, let alone don't read my resume. Is the Internet economy too big and too fast to allow for common courtesy?

Which, of course, is a rhetorial question. I know that this crazy Internet business keeps everyone moving at the speed of light but maybe it's time to take a hard look at what it's doing to respect.

How the hell did my drunken lunch story become a diatribe on the exciting world of dot-coms? As Rudy said "uh, I dunno."

My grandma was scheduled to come home from the nursing home next week, they'd hired a live-in person and everything was all set. But now, the live-in person has said (and I'm not kidding) that the devil is conspiring to keep her from reporting to work. So the move is back to square one, thanks to the devil.

Looking for some new shoes? Ebay is featuring "Survivor" Sonja's Sneakers!. Thanks to Mr. Matt S. for this one

Amy found this gem: Sole Survivor Covers.

I hereby declare Mr. Hot Shit™ Egg Boy after that round picture on his blog. Here's to the adventures of Egg Boy!

1 day since the layoffs and it still feels awful. There isn't much work going on, just a constant inventory of who's here, who's already gone and who's leaving later. Sometimes I forget, think that everything's okay, but a walk in the hall only shows me the same long faces and whispered conversations. Then it all comes back -- my friends don't work here anymore.

From my mom:
Nancy Kerrigan's dad wins $1 million in the lottery. And I didn't even like her!

I just closed my MBNA credit card account. It was so painful, they have people waiting to pounce on you, telling you things like 'you have a fabulous card there, are you sure you want to close it?' Please, please, lady, I beg of you, just close the account. I had to say 'I just want to close the account' no less than 5 times. Ugh.

Being part of a layoff is similar to being pregnant, having a sick dog or a small child: every asshole on the street wants to give you advice. I ran into my neighbor last night and he asked why I was so bummed. This weird guy was with him and the guy starts spouting off about what I should do. LIKE I ASKED YOU. Unless someone asks for your advice, don't give it!

I've never been through layoffs before, but there I was, looking around the room and knowing that this was the last time we'd all be together. Even for those who are staying, the future is uncertain. I'm just bummed.

Just to sum up what's going on with me right now:
And the seasons, they go round and round
and the painted ponies go up and down
We're captured on a carousel of life
Going round and round and round in a circle game
--Joni Mitchell

Breakups are so damned painful and so personal, I'm so sorry that this wound up in the news: Wandering Anne Heche hospitalized. My breakups have always left me a complete mess, I can't imagine having the world know (and care) about it.

Thanks, Mr. Hot Shit, for saving this lovely webcam photo. It's so nice to see that he's waiting for my best moments.

In case you were wondering, getting Alice to sport the fez is an arduous task. She's really tired and would rather be napping than posing for centerfolds in the Shriner's magazine.

One day, I was walking Alice (at the time, we were a one-dog family) when I ran into some Spanish-speaking folks who wanted to know what her name was. I said "Alice" and the woman turned to her young son and translated "Alicia."

Woo hoo! My fez arrived. I'm totally stylin' now.

For a few minutes, the lovely Miss Alice took over my webcam.

Isn't she cute? Why did I have a camera before I had dogs to use it on?

Bought some really hip shorts this weekend. They're really long so I've decided that they're the ghetto version of capri pants.

Quote of the day: "The Internet is so convenient"
--Amy's mom

We had a serious moviefest this weekend. Lamenting our old age and that we never seem to stay up late partying or screwing like bunnies, we defied the odds and went to a 10:30 pm showing of Space Cowboys. Rebels are we! The movie was slow in parts but hell, so are we. For the most part, it was pretty good.

On Sunday we saw the Replacements, which was also worth seeing.

Taking Ellie (aka Mustafa) into the vet later this morning for her bi-weekly bandage change so I'm hanging out at home with them until we have to go. Both dogs follwed me upstairs and now I'm lucky enough to have Alice in front of me and Ellie at my side. They seem to both lay in the same position, it's super cute.

I'm so thrilled that Mr. Hot Shit is watching my webcam with such interest.