Hai. I'm an asshole.

I believe in fair warning, so I have been known to tell my co-workers that I'm sort of a jerk. That way, when I do something jerky (like watch you knock over a stack of charts and then say "hey, you dropped something"), no one is surprised.

I AM a professional, mostly, so I try to keep my dislike of co-workers to myself. Or at least, I try not to make it OBVIOUS. Ahem. But there's always one, you know? That one co-worker who makes it realllly hard to like them. For whatever reason. And maybe this co-worker is not a horrible person, but for some reason, you just...can't. I cannot stand her. I am completely aggravated by her and I really have a hard time hiding it. Let's call her the nickname that I've given her already: Noxeema Jackson. And this is REALLY what she looks like: Wesley Snipes, in a dress. And I imagine that she gets dressed in the morning for work like this.

Recently, she's taken to trying to become my BFF, for no reason I can imagine. We had a staff meeting where she made it a point to ask me about some random thing that I did several months ago, that she had already asked me about when she called me about some equally unimportant thing, several months ago. She's invited me to come to her apartment and lay by her pool, to go go-karting, to go the jazz festival...blah, blah.BLAH. Every time I have to send an (work-related) e-mail to her, she tries to make it personal and/or attempts to invite me to her kid's basketball game. Every conversation, which is as rare as I can make it, she finds a way to bring her deceased husband of five or so years into the conversation. She tries to convince me, and everybody else that she was a model in her younger years (please see: Wesley Snipes in a dress. Also, nope.com)

So the other day, our department was "strongly encouraged" (read: not mandatory, but really kinda is) to attend some award ceremony, as one of our co-workers was receiving a fancy award. Toward the end, I decide to cut out with a couple of other co-workers (the newlywed and the mouse) because a) it had already been an hour and a half b) my co-worker had already received her award and c) I was tired of listening to this long ass award ceremony that wasn't even HALF over yet. And I see Noxeema get up as I walk past to catch up with me out of the corner of my eye (I would never look directly at her because she would take that as an invitation to engage, which...it wasn't).

I start walking faster. Because Noxeema is also an AMAZON, she is catching up quick. But I am smarter; so I know she's not going to scream my name while in front of all of these people and so I can pretend like I didn't see her since I didn't look directly at her. While I still have the head start, I cut into the bathroom around a corner before she can catch up to me. And while, I'm there, I decide to, you know...pee. So when she peeked in, she didn't see me. As I'm finishing, the mouse comes in and tells me that she DID come in looking for me, but is gone now. The Newlywed says that I disappeared but when she turned around Noxeema was standing there. And then I had to admit that I sorta ditched her by hiding in the can.

I feel a little bad because I know that she's trying, for whatever reason. And I don't make it easy. But I really don't wanna make nice unless it's absolutely necessary, i.e. Staff Meetings. And when I see her in staff meetings, I am almost the epitome of professional, and attempt to keep all smartassy comments to myself.

Except one:

I'll see you later, unless I see you first.


(see? I told you. I'm an asshole.)

My Weekend (In Pictures)

Friday

J.Ho

Saturday

Sunday (Happy Mother's Day!)

And if you're wondering about Monday...

What I learned at Rehab

Not THAT Rehab. This one

YEAH. So I went to Baker 2 Vegas, because my sister is an officer of the got-damn-law (anyone? anyone?) and because THESE GUYS were having a concert at the Joint and really, is there ever a bad time to go to Vegas? And because she hates me, she wanted to go to Rehab...And I said no, no, no (sorry. but I really, REALLY couldn't resist)... But because I'm a curious sort, it wasn't that difficult to change my mind. And because we had all this stuff going on at the Hard Rock, that's where we stayed

So after a couple of days of drinking, I'm supposed to put on a skimpy bathing suit and frolic in the water with a bunch of half naked boys and girls? Right. But I'm going to tell you something that I learned at Rehab:

Rule #1: You are only getting in the pool in your bathing suit. And that is all.

Because this guy says so

So off comes the cover up and in goes the legs in the pool.

Still though, I was self·-conscious. Because whatever you THINK Rehab at the Hard Rock looks like, it's more. More itty bitty bikinis. More skin. More fake boobs and flat abs. Just...MORE. And well, there's more of me too. But my "MORE" doesn't look as hot in a bikini, nahmean?

But whatever. I'm chilling by at the pool with my sis and cousin drinking a Jack Daniels & Sprite at 11AM in the morning. BEFORE BREAKFAST. I'm talking to the very regular-looking couple sitting next to me, and watching people get in the pool.

Rule #2: See Rule #1.

So I'm watching the skinny broads get told to take off their cover-ups or get out of the pool. And the athletic type fellas taking off their T-shirts. And noticing that even the people who LOOK LIKE MODELS are looking just as self-conscious as I do.

Rule #3: EVERYONE is vulnerable when they're half naked in the bright light of day.

There's no hiding behind clothes that camouflage, no pitch black club, no strobe light.. No make-up. Well... there's waterproof mascara. But mostly, there's just sunblock. There are, of course, people who came to the pool with no intention of getting anywhere near the water. THOSE people were wearing teeny tiny bathing suits/booty shorts, 4-inch heels and full face of MAKE-UP (who wears make-up to the POOL?! I'll tell you: people who are missing the point of a pool party...people who I am NOT convinced weren't ladies of the evening working a day shift, that's who.)

Rule #4: Have FUN.

You know what a good time is? Hanging with my sissie and prima for the weekend at The Hard Rock Hotel ,concerting at The Joint, winning some dollahs at the roulette table... and topping it off with some drinkin' and partying at Rehab.

That came out wrong, didn't it?