you weren't born when that song was written, were you?

I really wish I had something worthwhile to post. Instead... it's motherfucking list time.

- I work six days a week now. I shouldn't complain - I finally get decent hours (unlike over the summer where I was practically blowing HR to give me a day) and working on weekends means I can do my homework but my tasks are so mundane. Here Amanda, go file all these employee records and see whose folder is missing (um, like half of them). Amanda, go to the bank... and get coffee for everyone. I'm even helping the administrator and get the mind-numbing task of tallying the census. Just give me a job description and DAILY TASKS. And a desk that people won't steal from me. AND FOR FUCKS SAKE DO NOT CALL ME IN ON MY DAY OFF (this means you, mother).

- My grandpa is doing better. The one super thing about my job is that, because he's living at the facility for rehab, I get to see him everyday. And his day-to-day progress is ridiculous. Two weeks ago he was on a respirator, had pneumonia and sepsis and wasn't expected to get any better... now he's doing laps around the lobby and eating regular food and listening to the Yankees (much to my chagrin, but hey...). 

- I'm off the baseball bandwagon 'til spring training. There's no point in watching when your team barely even shows up for games (oh they're physically there [uh, the ones that are healthy enough] but so complacent that they literally don't even swing. And Jerry won't give Nick Evans a chance so I'm also on the "I hate Jerry" bandwagon because Nick Evans is dreamy and has more talent than pretty-faced Daniel Murphy). Joe and I have been tossing the idea around of going to PSL for spring training, but of course we know that means I'll be dumped at the end of January, taken back a day before Valentine's Day (and spend the hours before promising hosts at Pascale dirty bathroom sex in exchange for a table) and then not actually going to PSL...

Shut up, I'm still bitter.

- Scott and Katie's wedding reception was awesome. The actual CEREMONY scared me - Jesus was in a pressure cooker, they need to have lots of Catholic babies, blah blah blah - but the reception was crazy. Open bar, super DJ (a distinct lack of "Sister Christian" but I begged, I swear), hot lesbian all over me and awkward ignorance of Joe's ex-girlfriend shoving her tongue down some Bangladeshi man's throat... oh, and two flasks of cherry vodka. I don't know how I didn't die.

- Gridley Paige played yesterday. Tim (singer) announced to everyone that I have a crush on Matt (dreamy Ben Folds/Paul Rudd hybrid piano/guitar player). Wonderful. They played Dr. Feelgood and it was AMAZING. And Sister Christian LOVE IT.

Obviously everything is (generally) fine, and nothing is (generally) fucked...