the smack factor

So, I haven’t really meant to, but I’ve been stirring the pot a little.  I guess it’s what I do.  Sometimes, it’s embraced as a catalyst (that’s not a copyrighted term, dorky corporate america!) for change (because there is ALWAYS an easier way to do things).  Other times, it’s seen as super annoying and some people get their pubes all in a tangle.  Today is a special day.  Yesterday I was asked by our CEO to draft an intro to two new blogs.  ONe that I will be heading up (and it’s awesome) and another one that someone else is transferring over to.  Obviously, that one won’t be as cool as mine.

When I wrote the blurb, I used the information given to me by various sources and also threw mad props in the direction of the other editor.  There was NOTHING bad about it.  In fact, our editor in chief said that he wouldn’t change a thing and that “if you write[name of blog] like that, it will be our best read publication yet”.

This all changed today — because of some back and forth that transpired last night where the other editor didn’t like what I wrote about her new blog and felt it was inaccurate.  Well shit, dude, I dont want to be inaccurate, so I said great - give me the right info and I’ll totally weave it in.   To which she informed me that I am not to edit anything, etc etc, bruised ego and all that. So today there’s just a big ole shit storm and it’s raining egos.  I’m just sitting back and waiting for all the puffery to deflate.  I know better than to get in the middle of political wrangling and scraped wittow egos.

on IM:
me: I’m causing all kinds of controversy
coworker: as far as i can tell that started when you walked in the door.

Something never change, thank god.

I’m such a baby.

this is the roof of our building.  It’s pretty neat, that.

Can you tell I’m without the boy

Food, Factors, and fun.

brunch at Old Devil Moon is good.. but pancakes are like cement!

I love when the boy lets me order him around with photo directions.

We celebrated in style with TGIFridays, Rehab, Cosmic Cantina, and cleaning up chunks.

I’m in a poopy state right now.  I felt like total crap all day today.  I was supposed to go to an event tonight and cover it for work, but as I was leaving, I felt like sasquatch was trying to come out of my belly button.  Ok, fine, my butt.  My stomach hurt SO BAD.  SO BAD.  I’ve been sort of shaky and cringing since then.  I think I’ve narrowed it down to yogurt - is that possible?  Anyway, it was a blessing in disguise because I’m finally getting to some photos of Factor’s 30th birthday.  It feels good to edit.

and the boy is in Vegas right now, so seeing his little face is making me happy and sad at the same time.  I really don’t mind that he’s in Vegas, I guess it’s more the company he’s keeping while there.  Not one of those boys can be counted on to be the voice of reason.  I kind of thought Factor could be that guy, but I think he’ll be distracted by the blinky lights.  So, here I stress, worried about his liver and his health and the state of the boys he’s with.  I’m just hoping they’ll be safe and not get arrested.  I really don’t want to see Factor in “Jail: Las Vegas”.  He’d be the idiot running around in his underwear outside Circus Circus.

So i’ll edit some photos.

Towards the end of work today I got into a wishy washy mode.  My tummy had some serious goblins yesterday, but I went to the gym anyway - and then today it was just no good - lots of hoots and hollers from belowdecks.  Either way, about 30 minutes before i planned to head out, I got a really good second wind.  I harnessed it and envisioned myself pounding away on the treadmill.  I kept that vision in my head as I trucked up to Park Avenue.  And then I realized, when I got into the sweaty locker room full of greasy thongs - I had forgotten a hair squozy — you know, that thing to keep my hot thick head of hair off my neck and face.  I almost let it derail me, but no - I went up to the front desk and asked for an old school rubberband.

Then, I hopped on the treadmill and pounded away at 2.34 miles.  I walked super fast and jogged.. I guess super slow.  I wanted to stay longer, but it was peak hours and frankly, I was tired (and the ole knee was acting up.  anyway, something else I wanted to boast about is that my home scale lies.  But that industrial bovine weigher in the locker room does NOT lie and it told me a different weight than I had originally thought! So kids, I am going to be one hot bitch some 4th of July.  I feel good.  I like this challenge of counting every little calorie and tracking the exercise — it’s really helpful on days like today - when I have dinner plans.  I know where we’re going, I know my calorie allotment…

… and I know I’m going to forego most food so I can have fun with my other favorite: vino!

I’m trying to be healthier (shut up!)

I’m constantly loagy and oafy and slow and I can’t concentrate.  I’m pasty and floppy and white and droopy.  I’m 31, people - i can’t live like I’m 23, drinking a buttload, not exercising, having sex with pizza (besides that).  I start thinking all these weird things in my head like.. shouldn’t I be taking weird hormones so my uterus doesn’t fall out ?  What about my bone density?  Am I going to need to take those weird chewy calcium supplements that make you constipated for months?  To avoid all that, i’m going to RELIGIOUSLY and with great care and obsession track my food and exercise.

I’m using this thing called thedailyplate.com that my friend Quail used.  It’s online, it’s covered in ads, but when you use the standard version, their database is complete with items from Trader joe’s logged right alongside burger king.  You can also input your exercise — which is the only slightly flawed part if you ask me.  I mean, yes I walk about 17 minutes and .83 miles to work and ditto that back, but is it really possible that I burn 55 calories doing that?  I need a second opinion.  anyway, I’ve worked out that i want to lose 2 lbs a week and if I hit the gym every day I can definitely acheive this.  no, I will not tell you what my calorie limit is per day because i don’t want any nervous nellies out there trying to be all motherly.  especially since it’s perfectly healthy.  But you know, you can’t reason with some people!

the true test is going to be this weekend.  i’ll be up at my parents where I tend to drink a bit and eat too much cheese and crsipy bread products.   I’ll just have to be very careful and stay the course!

And of course, I usually never make it past Day Two, so cross your fingers - day two and all.

What a weekend. I’m fried, exhausted, pickled, and polluted (sounds like a Dave Matthews song). I have already declared today international stop sucking day.As in, stop sucking at basic things in life like picking up the phone, writing thank yous, keeping up with cleanliness in the apartment, eating less cheese, things like that. Oh yeah, and drinking during the week – which I do too much of and which I’m sure lends to the large droopy ass I have right now. No, I’m not fishing for compliments, I’m painting the picture for you. So don’t bother.

Friday night Factor and I packed for Baltimore and watched There Will Be Blood. Which was just ok. And now let’s talk about what really matters: the Factor Golden Horseshoe, which I believe is crammed firmly in the crack between his tiny butt. What does such an amazing golden horseshoe do? Let’s bullet this out?

• On Factor’s bday, we were running late to venue 2 and we needed to cram 12+ people into cabs and head down town.Not a cab to be found, but what IS found? A limo that pulls up and for 60 bucks we clowns crammed in and made it to Rehab in style and in ridiculous spirits
• When we hit Dollar rentals for our economy class car, we were told there were no more cars left.As we waited for our car another couple came inOur car, the only one available, pulls out of the bay. It’s a Sebring. Convertible.
• Factor gets change back from whatever – doughnuts or some shit. One of his quarters? A susan b Anthony dollar. He made 75 cents.

These things don’t happen to anyone else. Anyway, the weekend was awesome, it went like this:

1. Drive to Baltimore
2. Go to SheFactor’s shower
3. Eat a lot
4. Nap quick
5. Drive to DC to hit “lucky Bar” for a birthday
6. Hear some fun Baltimore jingle jangle on the way home from DC
7. Wake up early on Sunday and head home to NYC
8. Arrive in Hoboken for surprise bday party. No parking
9. Pay 20 bucks for parking for 3 hours (yeahhhh)
10. Get lost
11. Arrive in city late for car return, pee at car rental place
12. Get home

I woke up this morning thinking it was Sunday. But it’s not. It should be though, shouldn’t it?

Anyway, here’s a fellow I saw on the way home.

friend: hey how are you feeling?