Under 12 hours to go...

Ah, what a year... here's the highlight reel:

Jan - G has surgery
Feb - G breaks right shoulder, learns to do everything with one hand
Mar - Apr - G regains shoulder usage
May - Jun - G works like crazy lunatic
July - Sept - G renovates home
July - Sept - Series of unfortunate events destroys the majority of renovations; G repairs
Oct - G goes on vacation with crazy family; befriends Gothic community
Nov - Dec - G spends her time enjoying many holiday parties and friends...

A busy and challenging year to say the least... probably my hardest yet, but the one I feel most proud of so far...

Despite the eye injury and traffic, the past two weeks have been awesome; I've got to reconnect with a bunch of friends I haven't seen in a long time. And I'm putting that digital camera to good use, so I'll be posting pictures soon.

Still have no plan for kissing this year goodbye, but I'm sure I'll have plenty to report.

Now - what you've been waiting for... the 2008 Challenge.

I've been challenged, starting Jan. 3, to go without drinking for 45 consecutive days. This really didn't seem like a big deal to me, until I told my mother, who burst out in laughter and laid $50 on the table that I can't do it. Normally, I'd think it was just her being crazy, but when I told several other people, all reacted the same.

So - being that we all know I like a good challenge and I love my "I told you so" dance... so, consider it game on, people. 45 Days - Clean and Sober.

This should be interesting...

Happy New Year! Here's to February 15!

Smooches,
G

happy new year's eve!

Yahoo... the fun begins. :-)

Long sappy post and the 08 challenge to come tomorrow.

Smooch -
G

Ah, Another Griswold Family Christmas

Merry Christmas to All... Here's another tale for the record books.

As previously noted, the fam descended on the District on Dec. 23. Mom and my sister were too worried about getting their hair wet, so we weren't able to actually go and see the White House Christmas display. My dad decided we had to go to Union Station - which is the equivalent of me touring a NYC subway, since I have to go there everyday for work. Then, I attempted to take them to a nice dinner - which was going well, despite them being a bit too loud. That was until my sister spilled her iced tea into her lap, and all over the table, my father shrieking, and then my sister wringing out her clothing on the table and all the linens.

Still - not too bad. Christmas Eve was rather uneventful, besides me learning the joys of parenting and running around with my niece for the entire day.

Even today was going off on a rather low-key note. Santa was alright to me... I now have a digital camera, so look out... fun pictures, bound to appear on Bloggy. Did I ask for a camera? Nope. Did I get what I asked for? Not really, but hey, the camera is definitely better than slippers that quack, so I was counting my blessings.

That was until after dinner.

Like the ever helpful sister I am, I was cleaning up after dinner at my brother's house. My dad, the man I learned my nice gal habits from, joined me in the kitchen as everyone else did the occasional dish drop off and my sis-in-law put the baby to bed. We were doing pretty good as a tag team duo, until I needed another garbage bag.

As he was furiously dish washing, I asked my dad to scoot to the right so I could get a bag under the sink. He obliged, but the bags were to left. So, I told him to hold still, yet didn't see the can of Pledge rolling onto his foot.

He jumped, smacking the cabinet door, which in turned socked me in the eye. Being the quiet gal I am, I shout "G**Damn, that was my eye", waking the baby, and trying to catch my balance.

Was I being dramatic? Not really - I write this with a big ol' swollen eye, which I'm sure in the morning will be several lovely shades of purple.

I'm sure a lot of people get black eyes for Christmas. Ow. But, hey, with every ounce of pleasure...

Hope you all had lovely holidays!

Smooch -
G

The Griswolds Descend Upon the District...

My apologies to all residents of our Nation's capital as the Griswolds are on their way here. We'll be going to visit the big White House down the street for me to see if Bush-y can top my Christmas tree, Thor.

Smooches all!
-G

Resolve Me.

I received an interesting New Year's Resolution challenge last night, but before I accept it, I'm opening G - Version 2008 to my favorite audience.

So get creative and tell me what you'd like me to resolve this year. You have 9 days, so think wisely!

Smooch!
-G

What to Get the Girl Who Has Everything...

It's been a loooooong week. Let's start with the weekend. After a very painful hangover (sorry Magni for G's disruptive behavior), G spent Sunday praising the porcelain goddess. I looked so bad, my parents were actually trying to help me. This worked really well until they kept discussing how I shouldn't look at all the colors of the fruitcake they were eating.

At any rate - as one of the cultural ambassadors of my office, I helped plan our holiday party. And, judging by the fact that my parties have wound up in both my review and my recent award, apparently, I give good party. This one was no exception. We organized a scavenger hunt at the International Spy Museum - which basically meant 3 teams of my co-workers racing thru the museum to answer questions with a decoder. My team was all about diverting attention and hiding clues. We lost, but hey, I also organized a game night and thanks to my knowledge of Jimmy Kimmel and Snoop Dogg, kicked serious butt in a sudden death round of Trivial Pursuit with my boss.

As if that weren't enough, Tuesday, we signed up for the Winter Holiday Extravaganza Beer Tasting at a famous brew pub down here, The Brickskellar. I'm no fan of beer, but have to say it was an awesome time. I loved the first Winter Solistice beer, and the 10 others that followed. We were all rather banged up, but managed to sneak in a final shot at midnight before we went home.

Does this stop me? Well - Almost. Wednesday was a rough day to be at work. You know it was a good night when the only conversation that kept taking place was "Do you remember..." followed by hour long pauses and finally an "OH yeaaaa".

So around 5:30 or so, G decides it's time to take a half-day and retreat home.

I'm all settled in to take my long winter's nap, when what to my wondering ears appears but the sound of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer". Now, self admittedly, I'd usually just hit ignore and head on to sleep, but, it was Senor Ray (aka Telecomedian) - someone who I never get a chance to talk to, let alone see.

In the midst of us playing catch up, Ray decides that I'm not going to sleep, but instead I'm going to Baltimore. So, how do you get a super tired G to agree to go to Baltimore instead of catch up on deseperately needed sleep?

You offer her a perfect trifecta - Christmas, doggies and fun. Makes me incapable of saying no.

Ray picks me up in his Vibe, Raider, who is in the Christmas spirit with exterior illumination in the form of cute multi-colored Christmas lights. Greeted by his two doggy accomplices, I hop in Raider and we're off to B'more to see the Miracle on 34th Street.

What's that, you ask? The coolest Christmas thing I've ever seen and for those of you who don't believe me, click here and find out.

For those of you too lazy to click, I'll elaborate on coolest Christmas thing ever. B'more's Miracle on 34th Street, is a street-wide neighborhood event that the neighbors try to see who can display the most Christmas decor and lights possible. Every house is a Griswold house.

So - to recap - I'm with two dogs, on a street entirely designed to make it look like Christmas threw up on it, and with one of my most funny and favorite people. Basically, G heaven.

Poor Ray must think I'm part retarded, because all I could do was point, stare in amazement and smile for a good 10 minutes. Really. And, once again, thanks to another digital camera owner, I have proof below. Enjoy! My personal favorite is the one where you can tell I'm completely miserable with Jolly Ol' Saint Nick.

Donde Esta G?

Pictures to come! (and story... it's late). And no, despite the title of this entry, I wasn't in Mexico.

She can't talk...

But, the picture speaks for itself. The only other person I've seen this happy with a stuffed doggy, is myself when I met Baxter T. Puppydog. Of course, being the professional toy tester I am, this gift was from me. Hope you enjoy these pics!

Smooch,

G

Number Five is NOT Alive...

Ok, so, Dee said it would be easier if I started numbering my dates. Tonight was Number Five. Here's a tip... although you may be thinking it, saying to the girl "let's get you all liquored up" - NOT a smart way to go.

Hence the power date, that allows me to write to all of you...

So update on the five bachelors:

Number One - it's fun to get emails from Baghdad! I've gotten two since he left on Friday. Bottomline: He's still in the running.

Number Two - cyclical dater. He shows up once a month, like clockwork. Bottomline: This clock stopped ticking and I have no desire to wind my watch right now.

Number Three - Sarcastic and made of plastic. Well, not really, but, after Melissa's careful analysis of emails and IMs. (oh yea, I totally I have a screener) Bottomline: Let it go.

Number Four - Too nice guy. How many times do I need to say, I need nice with edge. Bottomline: Eh, over it.

Number Five - Other than the liquored up comment, I've been told I'm supposed to go out with someone at least twice to determine if they're worth it. Bottomline: I'm not actively seeking this second date, but we'll see what happens.

So, in under a week, from five to 2 and 1/2 men (ha ha ha)...

Fine by me - I'm having way too hard of a time keeping track!

Smooch!
-G

I joke that we're the Griswolds but...

I've often equated my family to the non-fiction equivalent of the Griswolds. We've had that gi-normous tree that was so big that people came to visit just to stare in sheer amazement. We're slightly off-balance and we have a tendency to injure ourselves in ridiculously comical, yet true ways.

This weekend though... it went way over the top.

I made the mistake of letting my sister drive the NJ Turnpike with me in the car. The totally awesome gal that I am, I bought her tickets to see Andrea Bocelli at the Meadowlands... not exactly how I'd spend a Saturday night, but eh, whatever works.

At any rate, for those of you who don't know, the Northern part of the Turnpike (around Exit 14) gets a bit tricky, with several lanes that merge off and on. Trying to be helpful, I keep instructing my sister which lane to be in. When we get to the "W"s merge (15/16W) - I clearly say "stay in the middle lane, as the right lane is a high speed merge". Does she listen? Of course not.

I try to maintain my patience, until I look out my window and see a giant tire. Not close to me mind you, ON TOP of where the passenger side door and windshield are...

I, quietly scream, "WE're partly UNDER a TRUCK!"... and she says "Yea, I see that... but there is a car next to me".

I say: "Explicative deleted, explicative deleted, explicative deleted, STUPID, explicative deleted, MOTHER, explicative deleted, MOVE TO THE NEXT LANE!"

The car on her left passes and she jets off to the left lane, literally as part of the truck hits the car.

G: "The truck just hit us."
Sis: "Oh, I thought that was your head hitting the window."

G: "NO, you, explicative deleted, piece of explicative deleted, we were just under a explicative deleted truck! How did you NOT think we would be hit?!"

Sis: Well, let me speed up to him so we can get his license plate then.
G: PULL into the right lane and SLOW down, NOW.

Now - some people, they have the luck o' the Irish. My family clearly has some other force that allows us to have numerous issues, but always a silver lining.

As we pull into the Meadowlands, and G drops to the ground, I realize that whatever part of the car that the truck hit, didn't leave damage.

Yea, that's right... G walks dog, falls and breaks shoulder. G goes part way under a tractor trailer on one of the most dangerous stretches of highway in NJ, nada.

(oh, and in case you were wondering, yes, I drove home).

Alive to tell the tale...

Smooch -
G

Ah, Heat...

Finally.. thanks to the team of emergency workers, and the eggnog mixed with new pal, Makers Mark, G is warm.

Oh - so, boy update. I met a great guy...

Ready for the punchline?

He's on his way to Baghdad as I write this.

Nope, he's not in the armed forces... he's a federal agent. Apparently, my pheromones are no longer attracting beer men, but have moved up to the following:
-IT boys (3)
-IT boys that are formerly SWAT (1)
-Former SWAT that are now federal agents and do things that I'm not allowed to know about (1)

Yep, that's right... 5 boys... well, 4 on this continent at the moment. Yea - I know what you're thinking, and I'm not too sure how I got myself into this mess either.

I can tell you, that I'm doing my best to try to weed some out... and my guess is that within the next two months, I'll be choosing E) none of the above.

But, we shall see.

Smooch -
G

I miss heat...

No, I'm not complaining about the cold weather. I'm complaining about the fact that, once again, I have no f'in heater. Farkin' cold in here as I write to you in my hat, ski jacket (ok, Schmeffster's ski jacket) and scarf.

There's a team of people here now... the "emergency" crew.

Oy -
G

Holiday Cheer and Pink Feathers

I woke up this morning and was pulling a pink feather from my mouth. Then I looked down and realized that I was on my couch. I looked to my right, while letting out a moan, to see a lump on the other couch. When I pulled the kitten ears off my head, I realized that I had a visit from the Tequila Fairy last night.

G decided to have herself an impromptu tree trimming this weekend, and while it was a smallish affair, the recipe for fun was:

1/2 (large) bottle of vodka
3/4 bottle of bourbon
1/4 bottle of SoCo

Add 1 full bottle of Cuervo 1800 Tequila for only shots. Add friends and mix thoroughly.

So where did the pink feathers come from? That would be the pink boa that I decided to bring out, when the dance floor (so I'm told) started up. Apparently, someone else wore the ears and a few of my hats also were part of the fashion show.

But somehow, Thor, my LARGE Christmas tree is looking absolutely gorgeous.
And, judging by this cute photo of my friend taking a pic of the tree, and instead getting a reflection of a man with a big red bow on his butt, seems to explain the rest.

Smooch!
-G

Baby, It's Cold in Here....

I think my emails to my building management should explain this week in a nutshell:

Monday
I just returned home and sorry to report, this is not a small hole that your renovation crew put in the wall and it's located prominently in the bathroom. It would appear that whomever came in to patch the job, also used the sink and it is now leaking. I would appreciate it if someone could look at it. I'm including the paint color information below, but can you please confirm in writing that you all will be purchasing the paint and properly repairing the damages. Beyond patching and repainting, it appears it will be difficult to match the paint without repainting the wall. The paint color is:

Benjamin Moore - Roasted Sesame Seed

2160-40

If you need me to provide the paint can for you to purchase or color match, I will not be able to do so until Monday.

Again - this is the fourth time I'm reporting damages to my unit caused by the renovations. I've asked after every incidient including the first time if my unit would be in jeopardy again, as I was in the process of redecorating/painting. Everytime, I was told nothing else would be done to any units around me that would cause any damages. I have damage to my walls that were freshly painted and had to deal with molding, flooding and now a hole. It's extremely frustrating, as I'm sure you understand.

If there is someone else within Keener Squire that I need to address these continued problems with, I am happy to do so.

Tuesday
Whatever work was done in #126 yesterday, clearly affected the water in my bathroom. I was unable to take a hot shower today as the hot water is only trickling out. The sink, as I mentioned in my previous note, is leaking and the toilet was running all night and now the handle needs to be jiggled everytime it is flushed.

I want these problems fixed today. I have been extremely patient throughout this process... but this is also at least the fourth time my water has either been minimalized or shut down entirely without any warning whatsoever. This is ridiculous. Am I supposed to leave work every day at noon, check my entire unit and report in that it is actually habitable?

Please respond quickly that these problems will be addressed ASAP. I will be in meetings all morning, but if I do not hear from you, I will be in touch via phone.

Tuesday PM

The hot water was NOT fixed in the shower, thus still leaving me with a cold shower. Clearly, still unacceptable.

I'm not sure what's going on and why these issues can't be resolved, but if it requires me to be here to ensure that someone actually does work in my unit and/or hiring someone who can actually get the work done, then I'm going to have to be reimbursed for my time outside my office and for these expenses.

I've been stuck in meetings all day, can you please let me know why this wasn't fixed and when the wall will be?

Wednesday
It seems my heater broke tonight... As previously reported, I've been having problems since the new heat pump has been installed -- btwn black stuff shooting out of the vents and now, it made a loud noise and stopped working all together. Could someone please take a look at this?

Thanks for having someone fix the hot water. Please let me know if the updates regarding the cork around the toilet as well as when I can expect someone to paint the wall.

----

Yea... that's my week, and I'm off to a day mtg in NJ.
Smooch thru my frozen lips,
G

Sorry for the delay...

Sorry - I got the emails, I know its been a week! Ok, so what have I been up to? Well, let's start with Thanksgiving. I hope you all had a great turkey day. Mine was surprising low key, which I attribute to the Manhattans I was downing for "medicinal purposes".

While in my cherished garden state, I also had my first black friday experience. There is only one person on this planet that could convince me to actually leave my house at 6 am to go to WalMart. And that person is my dad.

Making the mistake of trying to silence my hacking cough by getting water, my dad just happened to be up to greet me. I was caught like a deer in headlights. I tried to explain that I didn't want to go outside in the freezing cold, because I couldn't breathe. He continued to sigh loudly, reiterate that he's never "experienced" black friday and say numerous times "are you SURE you don't want to go?". I finally obliged my father and agreed to go shopping under the condition that he was buying me a Starbucks eggnog latte (yes, I am both THAT easy and THAT predictable).

We started at WalMart where he decided he needed not one, but two digital cameras. Then, I found out the real reason why we went out was because he absolutely needed a GPS system. Mind you, the man has every tech geek gadget under the sun, including a handheld GPS for his boat... but you know, this one goes in the car, so surely must have something that his other one doesn't.

But, I digress, so, after WalMart, Starbucks and shoe shopping (hey, we had time and he still owed me for being sick as a dog and outside in the cold), there we are standing amongst the first 20 customers at Costco. As the doors began to open, my dad was like, well, a kid on Christmas, racing thru the store to grab his very own GPS... mind you, there was absolutely no one else rushing to the GPS section, everyone was there for the flat screens, but he clearly felt victorious. Then, of course, we had to go all the way back to the entrance, because he needed his free coffee and muffin.

With food in his belly and GPS in hand, we were able to finally return home, where I got some well deserved sleep until late afternoon.

So, there you have it, kids... my first and hopefully only black friday experience.

Next post will be the dating stories (promise!)... and I'll even have more updates this weekend. :-)

Smooch!
-G

Stealth Bloggin'

Ok - shhhhh, I'm at ground zero here... aka my parents' house, home of the infamous Griswold family Thanksgiving.

So far, it took me 5 1/2 hours to get here... that's right, I left at 3:30 pm yesterday and the normal 2 - 2 1/2 hour trip was almost tripled, as I walked in at 8:30 pm.

Oh, and I'm sick... like grossly sick and waiting to hear that I have to wear a mask around my niece.

OH, and I have a client crisis that I need to deal with on my day off...

You know what makes all that some what tolerable?

The sound of my father changing a toilet paper holder which was is classily designed to look like a fishing reel, using a power drill and cursing every 20 seconds.

Send alcohol, people... it's going to be a loooooooong weekend.

Smooch (cough and achoo),
G

Fuzzy Pic, Big Meaning...

Hi all -

I swear my life isn't all work... I mean, for example, I completely omitted that when the Doyles were here, they also went on a date with me. And, I didn't talk about the date I went on a few hours after they left. Both of those stories are to come... but, since I got home from work at 8 and lost my laundry card (lovely when I have to leave for Jersey tomorrow), I have to work fast.

So, what's with the fuzzy Times Square pic? Well, while I worked for the mental health non-profit, I was put in charge of designing and promoting a calendar, which most of you so kindly bought. And, if you want to feel cool, and you look really closely, you'll see the cover of that same calendar in the picture.

About two years ago, I found out the calendar won a National Health Information Award for Patient Education from the Health Information Resource Center and I was really happy, for all the hard work, but also because the organization got some well-deserved attention.

But, I have to say, you can't get more attention then being on a billboard in Times Square!

Well - I always pictured my name in lights... and I guess I came close having my work in lights instead!

For those of you who want to support the org and see what I created, please buy a calendar here.

Ah well, off to Jersey tomorrow.

Gobble gobble, my peeps!

Smooch -
G

Learning to accept a compliment...

I've never really been Ms. Harriet Horntooter, but, I know a few of you would probably be angry if I didn't let you know the news. Today, I won a pretty big award at work... it's our company's employee award, which is given to a total of 8 people every year. Anyway, since, I'm not good at self-promotion (major drawback for a pr gal, btw) and they do a much better job, I'm including the email that was sent out below from the partners that own the agency. The award comes with a bit of cash, which I offered to give to our holiday party budget, but was denied. So, anyway, here's the info and what my colleagues had to say about me.

Dear All:

Choosing just four T.R.E.E. winners is challenging as we know how hard each of you work for your clients. As we read all the nominations submitted for the CCC T.R.E.E. award it was a gratifying reminder of all the meaningful work that took place these past six months. In addition to the tremendous value the CCC T.R.E.E. winners bring to their clients, each of them have played a key role in developing new business, developing staff and championing the CCC culture.

This T.R.E.E. winner is described by her colleagues as:

“She has risen to so many challenges with her accounts, it is hard to pick which to write about. And, best of all, through it all, there is great humor and perspective that continues to motivate her team members to want to be involved.”

“I have been here for the past 4 months and (she) has quickly become my role model – she balances two large and demanding clients with the skills of a well-trained professional juggler. She knows every detail of every project and is always on top of things – coordinating with the client and with the CCA team and ensuring deadlines are met and the quality of work is up to CCA standards and beyond.”

“She tackles every project she is given – whether it is developing a proposal, attending a medical meeting or planning the DC office opening party – with a zeal that is unique.”

At least 20 other congratulations emails followed this one... it's a bit overwhelming for me, but I'm really grateful (and let's face it, scared that someone thinks I'm a role model).

But in all honesty, as I said to almost everyone that sent separate congrats, this award truly wasn't about me... it shows the dedication of my colleagues that voted and really goes to them and to all of you who patiently let me vent about my job all the time.

So, cheers to you all! :-)

Smooch -
G

Death to Hoppy (and quite possibly me)...

Well, The Doyles and I had a pretty rockin' time here in our nation's capital. We had some drinks, saw some sights and played some pool.

Both Scoot and Dee conducted several searches for Hoppy and of course, he was a no show.

That was until 7:30 AM on Sunday morning, while The Doyles lay fast asleep, I walk out of the bathroom... and guess who's back and blocking my bedroom entrance.

Riddled with fear, but more scared to wake up the two people who never get rest, I sit in bathroom, hoping Hoppy will leave. But he doesn't, in fact, he walks towards the bathroom.

Now, I'm terrified... I run back into the bathroom to see what I can find to divert Hoppy away. Not much, as my bug killer, aka Rave Megahold is in my bedroom. I think "what would MacGuyver do?" and pull the lid from my hamper and a can of Febreeze... and assume that if Hoppy comes in then it will have to do.

After about 15 minutes of me saying "shoo... shoo... to the living room"... Hoppy finally trots off and I'm able to escape back to my bedroom and passed out from exhaustion and fear.

Of course, The Doyles had a great laugh as they woke up and figured out that I just used a wicker hamper and orange vanilla Febreeze as weaponry.

But, they humored me and did one final search... and lo and behold, Scoot finds Hoppy and annilated him. Much credit to Dee for lending a worthy assist. For the record, I was on top of the couch, crouched in fear.

I finally felt relaxed, they left and 5 hours later, getting ready for a date, I run back into my room to grab my keys.

Holy crap, there is more than one Hoppy.

So kids... this was the straw that broke my back. On the way to my date, I stopped at CVS to buy RAID Max. I'm sure that was a first, showing up for a date with bug killer.

I sure wish someone would've told me how strong this stuff was... To ensure death, I sprayed and sprayed, until I realized I couldn't breathe.

But, I'm happy to report that I found what appeared to be a dead Hoppy and was able to vacumm him up.

Of course, now I really do need a holster, because I insist on keeping both my bug killer and my Rave Megahold next to me at all times.

A big thanks to my heroes, The Doyles!

Smooch -
G

There's many ways to skin, uh, a bug.

I do love all the comments and helpful pest extermination tips! I appreciate all your insights, but a few unfortunate boundaries:

1. The Domestic Housecat - Excellent suggestion, because that would also mean I'd have a pet! Downside: I'm allergic to cats, with the exception of one - Mr. Gilroy Tooterhausen who resides at the Jersey Shore.

2. Extended Hose Attachement on Vacumm - Again, I dig it. But, these bugs jump toward you... Now, I could perhaps get a much larger extension. This has possiblity. Once, I did try to kill a creepy crawlie (not Hoppy) using my telescopic ceiling feather duster with a paper towel attached to it, but it didn't go so well.

3. Bug spray - If I could ever leave the office at a decent hour and not feel like I could pass out with exhaustion, this is next on my list. By the way, this would've been helpful to know about WELL before now.

4. Boiling water - (see April 2007) - VERY effective, although hitting long range for Hoppy, not going to work... especially with new carpeting. It's bad enough I managed to drop a full cup of coffee on the white carpeting in my bedroom that the Empire salesman begged me not to purchase.

and finally, my favorite suggestion:

5. Gun. This idea was all Scoot's and since he is almost here, I really hope he's packing heat.

Have a great weekend, my peeps!

Smooch,
G

"We readers depend on regular updates"

Geez. Pressure! Alright -- what can I tell you? All work and no play makes G a dull gal. Ok, ok.. maybe not ALL work. I did take my coworkers out this week for an emergency happy hour, but still, that's work related.

My credit card bill is here! Yahoooo... Anyone have $3,000 to spare?

I do have one story up my sleeve. I called my folks today... my mother picks up the phone and she's laughing hysterically.

Me: What's up, Mom?
Mom: We had a little accident today.
Me: What happened?
Mom: The kitchen faucet broke.
Me: What do you mean, broke?
Mom: Well, I was using it and the whole faucet came off.
Me: Um... that sounds quite wet.
Mom: Well, after your father turned off the water supply and Lucky lapped up the water, it got a bit better.
(Dad in background still cursing -- JC! Mother f'in son of a!!!)
Mom: (giggle fit of laughter) Yea - its a bit better. See you think you have problems with Hoppy... We have issues here, too.

Touche, Mother... but at least your problem is just water... Mine involves a mythical size creature that is forcing me to walk around the house in desperate need of a holster for my Rave Megahold.

Anxiously awaiting the Doyles visit and the stories that follow!

Smooches all!
-G

3 AM -- Hoppy Returns.

That's right... I wake up, and who's back. Hoppy. I went to sleep on the couch... Hoppy left. I go to blow dry my hair, Hoppy takes my comfy walking shoes hostage, forcing me to walk to work in high-heeled suede boots (ow).

Having enough be enough, I called in reinforcements, to come in and search the house until Hoppy is found. A full search including overturning my bed is conducted.

No Hoppy, well, a part of Hoppy - he has shed part of his body, which means he's gotten bigger.

HELP PEOPLE! HELP!

Thank goodness the Doyles are coming this weekend... Schmotty the Hoppy Slayer will have to be born.

Smooch (send bug spray)-

G

I told ya, trouble...

My relaxing day ended shortly after my last post. I went to drop Victor the VW off to get fixed (he's wobbling worse than a drunken pirate), and as I tried to start him up - he wouldn't move. Poor Victor was dead. I had to call Roadside Assistance to get him towed... he looked so sad.

But, he's cleaned out and after he's fixed, we will take our final road trip to NJ for Thanksgiving, where he will be inspected and taken away to find another good home.

I'll miss Victor, even though he costed me a fortune, he was a good lil' car. And for those of you wondering what comes after Victor, the answer is nothing.

That's right, to make up for all you gas guzzlers, I'm going carless. At least for now. No sense to pay a fortune for a car to look pretty in the parking lot.

I'm off to my busy day of doing nothing!

Smooch -
G

Minding my Ps & Qs

Ahhhh, peace.

Well kids, there’s an awesome crisp fall breeze in the air here today in DC and I’m happy to report that all the craziness of the past few months is winding down. Time for your pal, G, to recap and rest.

Thanks to my pals at Peapod, Schelissa will be happy to know that I’m no longer eating popcorn for dinner and I am able to sip on some coffee for the first time in two months.

Yesterday’s event went off without a hitch, it's already hitting the wire services and all parties involved are happy.

It’s been a crazy summer and fall for me. I’ve redone my entire apartment, kayaked nationally and internationally, hit the opera, went horseback riding, partied like a rock star on my family trip to Bermuda, among many other things. And in the midst of it all, worked like a dog. Sometimes it takes me awhile to get a chance to catch my breath, but that’s what this weekend is for, to do nothing more than lounge, sip on my D&D coffee and gear up for the next wave of adventures.

So what’s in store for G? Christmas, of course!! For those of you who are new to the blog, I go a bit nutty during the holidays and although I have a few weeks to spare, need to prepare for the most important day – getting the ginormous G Christmas tree and hope that someone gets me this year’s Hallmark Snowman that has not only a penguin BUT a dog too. While I can’t prove it, I’m pretty sure they design them just for me.

But in between now and then, I have some very important VIPs coming to visit next weekend, The Doyles. Yay! And, I have a few more upcoming biz trips to NJ, RI and Boston, all in November. Boo.

It’s a crazy life I lead, I’ll give you that. But I’m appreciative of it all – despite the daydreaming of one day living on the shore, in my little bungalow, with a cute little dog and do nothing more than writing this blog to you all. I guess that’s what lottery tickets and trips to Vegas are for.

And although I’m shooting for R&R, we all know I’ll get into some unplanned trouble this weekend. But sleeping for almost 15 hours between today and yesterday was well needed, and in my opinion, well deserved!

I hope you all get some down time this weekend and are able to appreciate the beautiful weather, too!

Smooch –
G

Need Good Vibes!!

Today is game day, kids! The big launch that I've been working on for a year... Think good thoughts and wish me luck! I need it!

Smooch!
-G

P.S. No one should EVER have to wake up at 5 AM, its inhumane.

Happy Halloween!

It must be Halloween, because it's 7:30 pm and I am HOME and not at work! Yahoo!

I'm a bit fried from the work load, so this post comes from Nicole, who has confirmed that Hoppy the bug is aligning his friends against us:

Hoppy's Cousin
I go to the bank on my lunch break and the sunroof is open. A giant bug flies into my car.

He is big, mean and has some red stripes on him (red stripes are NEVER a good sign -- G Note: Seriously, if I saw red stripes, I'd be in tears... she is way more woman than I am)

This occurs as I am attempting to get back into my car after doing my banking and I was trapped. I couldn't get into my car with the evil bug in there.

I stood in the parking lot throwing things at the bug to encourage him to fly away.
didn't work.

So there I am.. jumping around my car like an idiot and occasionally screaming at the bug. (G says: Um, totally would've done the same)

Then the trusty FEDEX man came up and asked if I was ok I told him my situation and he leaned in and killed the bug with someone's overnight parcel I love FEDEX!

At least I know who I need to call now to get someone to kill Hoppy!

Trick or Treat, kids!

Smooch,
-G

Here's something you don't get to say everyday...

It's been quite the week back to work. First, I come back and find out that during my vacation, a section of the Dallas Morning News gave me a bylined article for my client. I sent the piece to some of you, because I have to say, my full name in print is just really amusing. When I got into journalism, my ultimate goal was to get married to someone Spanish and be a TV reporter, so my name would take up the entire screen... like GinaMarie Mangiaracina Hernandez y Gonzalez.

It was a short-lived dream, but still... I found it amusing.

I've been working on a project with a former U.S. Surgeon General and we had a conference call with him today. After almost 9 years in this business, 6 of which I was working with the low-carb diet doc, you'd think I get used to people saying things like "Go talk to the Surgeon General", but from someone who's just returned from a full week of doing shots, dancing like an idiot and befriending Goths, I really don't understand what makes people think I'm an adult.

At any rate... there I am, on the phone with the director of this project and the SG (yea, I get to use lingo like SG too, how inspirational). When I was introduced to the SG by the director as “Gina, well I call her Lollobrigida
because she’s pretty and lovely… but it’s actually (imagine the worst butchered version of my last name ever)”.

When the director asked the SG if he had any questions, he said "Yes. Could Gina please repeat her last name."

Not one to argue with a former public official, I complied and repeated my name, to which he said “stick with Lollobrigida, that’s easier”.

Ah - now, sure, I've worked well over 24 hours in the last 2 days, but how many people can say a former SG made fun of their last name?

Now, the kicker of this story, is that I called my parents to let them know. I've been told all my life that I was named after Gina Lollobrigida (for those of you too young or too lazy to click on the link - she's an old star). As always, I'd make millions if I could mic my parents and give them their own reality show... here's a brief rundown of the convo after I told them the above story:

G: So, anyway, I told the director that it's funny she said Gina Lollobrigida because that's who I was named after.
Mom: Oh my goodness, WHY would you do that? Don't you know who she is?
G: Yea... she's an old film star.
Mom: Not a film star, she's a sex star!
(muffled Dad yelling in the background)
G: WHAT?! What do you mean sex star? You told me that she was a famous movie actress... you named me after someone who did porn!?!
(Dad yelling NO in the background)
Mom: Well, that's what I remembered... she did sex scenes in movies when I was young. Your father is disagreeing, though.
G: Let me get this straight... you named me after someone who was a party girl and who you THOUGHT was a "sex star" and yet you get on my case for being a party girl?
Mom: Well, clearly you get it from her.

Oy, people. I have to tell ya... I can't make this stuff up if I tried.

Have a good night all!

Smooch!
-G

Hoppy, the Saga Continues...

Ok, peeps, getting in at 8:30 pm from work does not lead to a long blog. Plus, honestly, I can't possibly top the Goth entry for some time. It was too priceless.

At any rate... I failed to update you on the outcomings of my Hoppy post.

Hoppy was at my bedside the morning after I published my post. I guess even insects these days are tuned into the Internet. Always thinking, G slept w/her can of hairspray next to the bed. Hoppy no longer hops, but did manage to scurry into a corner of my room.

As if to honor that famous scene in the movie Halloween, I muster up the courage to have someone come look for Hoppy's carcass, and he is nowhere to be found.

He could be the antichrist.

Smooch -
G

When Worlds Collide.... the Guineas meet the Goths

Ahoy Mateys! Freshly back from a cell phone and computer free week as I sailed to lovely Bermuda. Despite Dee's desperate plea to log on and blog while I was away, I stayed clear of the business center aboard the ship. But - I do have some great stories to tell!

As most of you know, I was on board with 23 members of my extended family from my dad's side -- the super loud, tons o' fun Italians. Although my family would probably be boisterous enough, there were also 2000 or so additional passengers, including many morbidly obese people terrorizing the buffet, significantly old senior citizens and oh, 120 Goths on Goth Cruise #3.

Goth culture isn't that shocking to me, coming from an admitted obsession with bands like The Cure in high school and having a best friend that was a chronic Goth dater - with men including the editor-in-chief of the Goth/Vampire 'zine, Propaganda. But, I wasn't quite sure how my family would handle a bunch of men in black, some wearing kilts and later in the night, a man in a spandex dress with a boa and combat boots. I saw my dad wince a bit and look at me as if to say "GinaMarie, don't you dare go back to those dreadful white and black striped stockings and black outfits."

But moving right along, our prescence was marked within the first 10 minutes aboard when my crazy cool great aunt danced with a group of ladies in front of the steel drum band and posed for pictures.

But that first instance was only the beginning. My family are participators, so if there was a contest or an event, heck even bingo (the winnings of which by the way helped supplement my VERY large bar tab), some, if not all, of us were there.

So, after a near win at the afternoon's Name that Tune event, I convince a bunch of fam to come to Finish that Lyric, where I tell them we will win because I consider myself an expert. This probably would be true, if I didn't start drinking during the Name that Tune event and never stopped. Yet, my fam doesn't care, we're all hanging out, boozing up on one side of the room, and the Goths are doing the same on the other side. Only the dance floor lied between the DiGiovannas and the Goths.

On trip #3 to the bar, I have my first face to face encounter with a Goth -- and I don't really need to tell you it was the boa man, because you already knew. I had to say SOMETHING, it was a truly fantastic boa -- so that's exactly what I said. He said, "Sweetie, you NEED to put this on" and laid the boa around my neck... It felt amazing! Real ostrich feathers and set him back a few hundred bucks... I thanked him kindly for letting me try it and headed back to the fam... who are now all talking about the Goths because it's clearly between us and them as the loudest people having the best time in the room.

Between the Goths and my fam, we overpowered the poor lady trying to run the Finish that Lyric competition, by singing all the lyrics instead of writing them down, so she quickly switched over into karaoke mode.

These Goths loved their karaoke. The whole set was covered entirely by them, so we weren't able to sign up, so, if you can't beat'em, you join'em. We sang our hearts out from the side of the room, cheering the Goths on. But after several diddies, the next gaggle o' Goths selected a tune that forced us to get interactive... because after all, who can sit still during Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

With the family on its feet, literally clinging to the side of the dance floor, I decide to make the bold move that during the rock out part of the song, we will bum rush the floor.

Well, the Goths and I were all on the same page, sure enough after "for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee", DiGiovannas and Goths crashed the floor looking like a scene from West Side Story... we rocked our hearts out together, most of us arm in arm.

My family officially, fell in love with these people. High fiving and hugging when the number was over. Don't think we completely noticed the rest of the audience in a mixture of shock and awe, but I DID happen to see a film camera out of the corner of my eye.

Now, I assumed this camera was for the ship's TV network, where they do highlights of events on the ship. Oh, G... sweet G, when will you ever realize that the powers that be have much higher ambitions to embarrass you.

That's right folks, the next day, I find out the Goths are being filmed for a documentary that will be airing on the Independent Film Channel, and that moment, of loud Italians blending in with these alternative folks, was too picture perfect to not be included. It was by far one of the best moments on the cruise for all.

I've often heard the comment that if you didn't know me and were reading this blog or listening to one of my many stories, that you would probably mistake it for just that, a story.

I usually work from memory on these tales, so I can understand how you'd think that somethings may be slightly different in so-called reality. But, folks, not only do I have proof, it's from a 3rd party source. Please click on this link, and you will see a pic of my fam and the Goths during our Bohemian Rhapsody number.

Ah, yes, between being listed as "one of the best moments on the cruise" by the Goths and the upcoming documentary, G will never be able to run for office now.

So what happened after karaoke? The Goths and the DiGiovannas took over the medieval bar on board called The Chamber. I reconnected with boa man who said "I can't believe your family has no issues with hanging with us... you guys are the coolest". And off we went, dancing until 3:30 in the morning when the crew finally forced us all to leave.

Lather, rinse, repeat on this tale... we continued to catch up with the Goth crew the rest of the trip, including one night when the majority of my family dressed in black to honor Goth tradition. And yes folks, with almost no coaxing, my own mother, freshly dressed in her Commerce Bank Hawaiian shirt and khakis, entered the Chamber herself at one point on the trip, commenting "the man dressed like Satan in the red body paint and with the horns glued to his body was very nice."

What else can I tell you? I realize this is something that only happens when you're me.

More tales to come... smooches to all. With the exception of the 600 work emails I'm off to check, glad to be back!

Love,
G

(Wo)man V. Bug

A lot of people get off work at 9 pm... they also get to say things like "what size did you want that in?" or "did you want fries with that?"

At any rate -- my final post before vacation kids... a great tale to tell about me and my pal, Hoppy the bug.

I ran into Hoppy a few weeks ago, after a particularly rough day. He was crusin' my hall closet. I said to Hoppy, "Dude.. enjoy the new carpet, but please, tomorrow, just get out of my way to the bathroom."

Hoppy complied. A week or so later, Hoppy appeared through the living room. Again - I asked him to leave; ran back to my room and gave him his space, and sure enough, when I came out, Hoppy had hit the road again.

Then, a few days ago, I saw Hoppy, this time he was by my stereo and coffee table, cruising thru Schelissa's CDs that I have yet to return to her. This time, Hoppy spotted me and walked off.

I realized that Hoppy had overstayed his welcome and convinced a pal to be pest control last night and inspect my place. We looked in every crevice and no Hoppy. I figured Hoppy moved on to one of the newly renovated units in my building.

Until this morning.

Racing around, late for my doctor, I go to run into the living room and turn off the A/C (believe or not it is still hot as heck down South), and there, right in front of my front door, is Hoppy.

I screech, rush back into my room and explain to Hoppy that he's gotta move, that I'm running late.

Hoppy doesn't budge. Apparently, he caught on to the antics of me trying to seek him out last night and he's visibly pissed. I finally attempt to move Hoppy along by throwing a shoe at him. Hoppy hops closer to me. So, I throw another shoe. This time, Hoppy backs up a little, but not enough for me to run out the door.

I throw a hat. Hoppy doesn't budge. I throw a heavier shoe, which nails the closet (lovely on the new paint job, btw). Hoppy STILL doesn't budge.

Realizing that I'm now running really late and a prisioner in my own home... I race to the bathroom to grab my bug killer (aka Rave Megahold). And then, I realize, I'm smack dab in the middle of a moral dilemma:

Kill bug and wreck paint job or make a break for the door, knowing that Hoppy could hop on me.

Having gone thru blood, sweat, tears, pipe bursts and water damage, I realize that I can't let Hoppy get the better of me and I have NO choice, but to make a break.

Holding my hairspray in one hand, I stand as close to my front door as I can without getting in Hoppy's way, and then, I swing open the door from the other side (hoping Hoppy would hop out, but no such luck)... I slowly grab my keys, which are VERY close to where Hoppy is looking at me and hissing (I'm convinced it was a hiss), drop the can of hairspray and leap out the door.

Boy, the construction crew that's renovating this place sure did get a kick out of that leap.

Hoppy cut me a break tonight and was out of sight this evening, allowing me to pack and get ready for my trip... and thanks to the lovely folks at Amtrak, I've spent $122 to buy the last ticket on the Acela, the ONLY train not sold out for tomorrow night.

So kids, as I lay me down to sleep, I ask that y'all wish me good vibes for no Hoppy tomorrow morning and that I actually get out of work tomorrow to make this train.

Last post before vacation -- hope you enjoyed.

Big smooches until I return -

G

Update: Ferrets - Dreams

From Dream Dictionary.com:

ferret: Playfulness, cleverness, resourcefulness. To dream of a ferret usually means that these qualities are advantageous for you to have right now. Occasionally, a ferret in a dream means that you'd benefit by having less of these qualities right now. A ferret can also represent a person who you feel is showing these qualities.

Would love to know what it means to be attacked by ferrets, but I can't find it.

Ridiculous, sitcom-types of accidents....

Sure, my cell phone may fall in the toilet after a series of unfortunate events... but I'm not alone in this world. Check out this story from one of my favorite readers and of course, lovely friends:

so today I went to the doctor on my lunch break.
I'm having an issue with my IUD
so the nurse tells me to pee in a cup and bring it out with me so I pee I come out of the bathroom and the nurse is MIA and I'm standing there with a cup of pee.
I try to move out of the hallway so people don't see me standing there like some freak with a cup of pee Well, it turns out I was standing against the door to the supply room, another nurse opens the door, hits me in the back and my cup of pee goes flying across the office.
THE END

Of course, I got written approval to post this story, seeing as eventually, I do want to turn this all into a book, and the reader noted:

yes, please also add that they told me they had a steam cleaner and not to worry.
I told them to invest in lids for the pee cups.

What a good sport! Always makes me feel better to know that I'm not the only person in the world who has days like these.

Good news: I leave for vacation in 3 days.

Bad news: I've turned into a complete insomniac and keep waking up in cold sweats about work-related things I've forgotten. Today at 4:57 am, I shot awake b/c I had a dream I checked my cell phone and it was 7:30 am, making me late for the doctor.

I've also had a dream that I was attacked by ferrets who were biting my legs. I have no clue what that means, but it can't be good.

OH! and BTW --- I have a 2nd date with Monday dude... who I'm trying REALLY hard to not call Matt.

Trying to get you one more post before I go...

Smooch,
G

My Public Apology to Scoot...

So, kids, I got several threats for not blogging. And y'all have lived up to your end by commenting a bunch. With a crappy work schedule and a cruise next week -- this may be the last post for some time... but I'll do my best to get another one in before the week's end.

This weekend, I did something I haven't done in a long time. I drunk dialed. Normally, I appreciate the challenge of a good drunk text, so I've been sticking with that method... but for reasons beyond my control, I felt a call was necessary.

So at 11:22 pm, I called Scoot. Why? At the time, I couldn't tell you. I was on a bus from a co-worker's wedding. I can tell you, that if I am still working at this place when I get married, between my family, friends and co-workers, the liquor tab will be uncontrollable... so it may have to be a dry wedding. LOL. Of course, I'm kidding... everyone relax!

My co-workers are some serious drinkers. I was brought in as a beverage counselor for this wedding, where the bride had the awesome idea to make a drink menu out of something old, new, borrowed and blue. Of course, I chose the Blue Hawaiian... as I'm now noted for my "blue drink fetish", as they call it. Normally, I would've been fine, but I was running late, didn't have time to eat anything all day. Oh, that and my co-workers propensity for shots. Not just any shots, shots o' Jack. Oy.

So after at least 4 shots of Jack floating on an ocean of nothing more than Blue Hawaiians, G knew she was toast and didn't even make it to the after-party.

So, why did I call Scoot? I pondered this for hours upon waking up... it wasn't until the drive home that someone mentioned that we started a conga line, introducing the UK side of the family to a new tradition.

Scoot and I started a few conga lines in our day... and you all know the story of the Congamaster (see June 2006 for more details). I guess I felt I had to share the moment.

At any rate - my apologies to the Doyle household for waking them!

Oh - and did I mention I went on a date tonight? Good one -- biggest problem is my desire to call him the wrong name. He looks like a Matt... but, he isn't. I've never even dated a Matt before. I wonder if he'll change his name? It's worth a shot right? I shameless kicked his ass for a bit at pool, then backed off... not polite to win all the time.

A few more boys in the works -- I'll keep you posted.

Smooch!
-G

The Functional Alcoholic

Hey Readers - New rule... no comments, no bloggin'. Ok, I'm half kidding...here's another dating tale that I was able to draft while sitting on my day OFF working.

Given my talent of attracting people with unusual jobs (magician, ice man (really, he sold ice), male nurse, donut maker, etc.), I was sort of surprised when I met another beer man. This guy worked for Miller, which let’s face it, I like a heck of a lot better than Heineken (Mr. January) anyway. A boisterous and funny man, I was looking forward to my date with Beer Man. Beer Man referred to himself several times as a "boozer"... which I guess I should've taken as a sign, but, for those of you that don't know me, I'm usually alright with a few drinks or eight. But having someone out drink me at a ratio of 4:1... well, that my friends is a blogworthy tale.

Location 1
Beer Man and I met at a bar to get (uh huh) a beer. Total beers: G – 1; Beer Man - 2

Location 2
Beer Man decided to switch locations, so we went for some “apps” at a restaurant. G, not the biggest beer fan in the world, switches to a fun blue martini (what? I’m a girl!) We eat calamari and imbibe some booze.

Total drinks: G – 2 fru fru martinis; Beer Man – 3 beers

Location 3
G thought it would be fun to go to a nice, outdoors neighborhood bar, known for its drinks. Fox and Hounds is a blast, but I give far warning that their whole shtick is that they serve the booze in a glass and the mixer on the side. Essentially, it is your responsibility to combine the drink. Since they serve a FULL glass of booze, you usually have to take a shot before continuing. Beer Man seems to chuckle at my warning and decides to try the drinks anyway. We both decide on rum n’ diets. G learning from her past experiences both with boys and with Fox and Hounds, sips her drink. At half way thru, Beer Man orders another for himself. Although, we all know I’m competitive in the art of boozing, your gal stays on course and continues to sip away. Not a problem, because by the time I’m done my first, Beer Man orders another round for both of us. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Total drinks: G – somewhere btwn 2 ½ and 3 1/2. Beer Man: Lost count after 8.

The Washingtonian

Since my day off consisted of me working from home until 10 pm last night, I was able to write up a bunch of good posts for release... here's another tale from the dating crypt. Enjoy! Smooches, G

G decides to take a different route and date someone who’s not only much older (39), but is a true Washingtonian type. In fact, he’s a high-powered policy expert who’s been on almost every broadcast program under the sun. When he first calls, I figured he was going to be a real jerk, but oddly, we have such an awesome conversation, we talk until my phone dies. This happens a few times, and then when our schedules finally connect, he calls to tell me he wants to go out and celebrate his new promotion. Sounds like fun!

Well – we meet. He’s not quite what I expected, but I overlook it. Any way, we get drinks, and after the first sip, he decides he wants to tell me the first thing he did when he got promoted. After 13 years of working at his organization, with this new promotion, his woman mentor is now his underling. His first act post-promotion, was to take this woman into his office and tell her how incompetent she was, pretty much putting her on notice. G’s reaction:

“Ooooh. So you’re like a dick?”

Now, keep in mind, I said it in a very joking manner, but really… there are ways to establish dominance during dating, but some are way too obvious. Me man. Me take over woman position. Me boss. Gotcha dude, but this ain’t your workplace.

But I let it go, b/c sometimes, when drunk with power, people do and say dumb things. Like throw books over cubicles yelling “legal soccer throw” at a new employee, bumper chairs that leave scarring or starting a fire with the office copier, calling someone else in and running like the wind.

Next up, we get on the topic of pop culture. The Washingtonian tells me he really liked 80s sitcoms. So do I! In particular, he really liked TNBC – Saturday morning shows included Saved by the Bell and City Guys. He even knows the theme song of City Guys to this very day. And he LOVED Saved by the Bell (alright, Kelly Kapowski, I get it). Anyway, he’s got an extensive knowledge… and then, mid-sip something in my head kicks in. I start doing math.

(Inside G’s head)
Ego to ID - “Let’s see, I remember TNBC – wasn’t a super fan or anything… but gee, I remember feeling like I was way too old to be watching the show.”

ID to Ego – G don’t be judgmental. So he likes some random shows… think of all the random things you like.

Ego to ID – True, true. But wait a minute… I was like 13 when those shows were on and that would make him like…(cue Jeopardy theme music)… ten years older, which would be….

ID and Ego in unison - EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

(Outside G’s head)

I think I need to go.

He walks me home and serenades me with “c-i-t-y you can’t see why, roll with the city guys, city guys”.

Devastated when I never heard from him again. Still lamenting.

Seriously, what is wrong with women? Better, what is wrong with me?

Despite the fact that we see each other as frequently as Halley’s Comet appears, (i.e. the last time was over macaroni and cheese pizza -- that’s right, one food item - mac n’ cheez pizza -- in May), I have much love for my pal, Senor Ray. I finally caught up on his blog (seriously, I’ve been working like a dog) and as usual, using his fine blend of wit and smarts he lays out the DC dating landscape in his latest blog entry.

We singletons complain all the time about being single. We women complain all the time that there isn’t a one, single straight good man left on this entire planet. How hard is it to find someone who’s nice, charming, attractive, caring AND straight? Someone who pays attention, doesn’t wait three weeks to call you back, compliments you, doesn’t forget his wallet or use the bathroom when the bill comes and, oh, did I forget to mention straight?

The truth is, it’s probably a lot easier than we say it is, yet we continue to search for as Ron Tidwell would put it, “the kwan”.

Case in point – I went out on a date last night with probably the nicest person on the planet. Truly. He’s smart, sorta funny, attractive – and he thinks I’m absolutely fabulous and yea, I find it hard to believe also, but if I heard the word beautiful one more time I was going to go looking for the hidden camera or throw up in my mouth a little.

So what’s the problem, G? Isn’t this what you’re looking for?

Well… I don’t know. See, of course, I want a nice dude – there’s enough archived posts that talk about the el douche baggy-os types on this site. But is it too much to ask for smart, funny, attractive with an edge?

Am I not a nice girl? I’ve always thought that I was, yet, I couldn’t bring myself to take this guy to any place I’d normally go to in this town, for fear I would taint his purity. And he was formerly in the Navy. Seriously. I walked us to Dupont Circle, sat down to hang out and chat, and when I noticed someone who was a little off, I insisted we move because I was concerned about his safety.

I didn’t want to have to kick someone’s ass on behalf of my date. Come on!

Oh, I hear you married folks yelling right now, “you’re never going to meet someone and get married with that attitude” and yes, of course, I’m going to go out with him again.

But bigger picture, can I really be that settled--ever? Does meeting a nice guy mean that my days of playing beer pong or getting 3 am drunk dial calls are over? Am I allowed to drink?

That’s way too many restrictions for this gal who’s been living without restrictions for so long. I left the evening wanting to bang my head against the wall for being defunct. Am I scared to commit, or just looking to commit to the wrong one?

Well, I’ll keep you posted, kids… but in the meantime, I’m gonna blame Senor Ray. It’s his fault for not liking me enough to spend more time with me and take me to all his favorite haunts like grocery stores and pizza buffets. :-)

Ok - I've hit my trifecta limit of blog entries today. Have a nice one... enjoy the re-established blog and I'll write again shortly. Keep the comments coming! They're my favorite!

Smooches,
G

The Return of Pink Phone…

When you blog about a phone, it means you either really like it or hate it. Me and pink phone, we have history as you can read here.

Several weeks ago, I sent out the following email:

“Yesterday, I told you all a lovely home tale about springing leaks, destroyed paint, ceiling destruction and new carpeting... well, the universe didn't like my recounting as after I clicked send, I tripped on the new carpeting and managed to slam dunk my cell phone into the toilet. Yes, the pink cell phone that I blogged about, that shared my iPod stuffed bed and bunny slippers Danielle got me and loved so dearly, despite the fact that it was a piece o'crap.

If you've changed your phone numbers over the last year, I don't have the new ones, so please send.

The place is up and running now and ready for visitors. I hope to see you at Casa de G.”

Well, I’m pleased to report that after nurturing pink phone by holding it over the dehumidifier that was eliminating water from the leaking walls in my apartment for 6 hours while my carpet was being installed, talking to it, laying it in its little shared iPod bed, that three weeks later, it is now reactivated thanks to the fine customer service representatives at Verizon. BTW – I encourage you all to call Verizon and listen to the fabulous way they try to “nicely” spin the fact that the RaZrs (like Pink Phone) are a gigantor pieces o’ poo. Yesterday my rep said, “Well, the good thing about your old phone is that the LGs tend to last a long time… so if this phone breaks again, you’ll have no problems.” i.e. Motorola sucks.

I miss you too!

Ah, fellow readers... I almost lost two bets in one night... both were for the same thing... the love of the blog. For 5 months, I've heard, "Bring the blog back, G"... "well, I don't know what you're up to, because you don't blog anymore." BTW - CALL ME, if you want to know what I'm up to... geez - I'm just as funny on the phone!

But I get it... you miss the stories, the excitement... the nuiances. The dates. Did she write today? What's going on down South? What color is her hair this month?

I miss it too. So, folks, once again, I'm up and running... now, times have changed, hard to believe, G works even more now than she did then, but it is true. So, the daily blog... probably ain't gonna happen... BUT, despite the heart ache, phone calls and rude comments that I've received at times on and about this blog... I will once again be a public entity.

Hopefully, this will force my book editor and my literary agent to quit their day jobs and get crackin.

So enjoy kids... I had a whole summer full of home repair and I'm currently in my bedroom, hiding from a bug... there are many, many tales to come.

Smooches -
G

Deep Thoughts...

As I was in the midst of my massage, I had this entire post written in my head... however, I checked my new horoscope and its lead me in a different direction.


Quickie:Listen more carefully to the viewpoints of someone who tends to annoy you.

Overview:The toughest thing in the world isn't beating someone with your superior mental or physical strength; the toughest thing in the world is being strong enough to be vulnerable. Take a risk and show your real self to someone who counts.

I have a pretty good idea as to why this horoscope is hitting right now... So, I'm gonna have to wait until later to tell you everything I was going to tell you tonight.

Sorry. For those of you that prefer the light and funny G, it wasn't gonna be either of those things anyway.

Smooch.

American Lexicon...

With various testimonials and usage I've seen and heard of fucktard, or for those polite people, f*tard, I'm bound and determined to make this word a m-w.com's word of the day. I think I have a good shot at achieving this, because this week, 'wowser' was one of the words of the day.

So, spread it like a virus, kids... Sadly, I can't even claim ownership of the word itself... but I can be the mastermind PR chic behind it.

In other mastermind PR chic news, my recent non-stop days o' work paid off from accolades from the boss lady... always nice to hear that I'm doing a good job... even if its costing me everything from my health to any spare time I once had.

I did manage to sneak in the Nats v. Mets game this weekend... sports terrets in full effect, as I yelled at man who caught a foul ball in front of me, "You go pink shirt guy... love a man safe enough his masculinity to wear pink to a baseball game."

Whoopsie... that turned heads.

An of course, paying respect to my Jersey peeps, when the game dragged onto the 12th inning, I screamed out "Sweep the leg, Johnny...."

That got a full section of laughter and redeemed the pink shirt comment.

Of course, nothing beats enjoying a night at the ballpark, yelling obscenities like "stop f*ing holding conversations on the mound, your game is NOT getting better because of it" and f-tard pink shirt comments, only to realize at the end of game, one of your coworkers is 4 rows ahead of you with a big ol' smile.

Good thing, he already knows that I'm both crazy and from Jersey, and that excuse continues to work wonders in this town.

I'm Not Giving You What You Want...

I know you want details. But, I don't have any to give right now. What I can give you, is my horoscope:

The sudden generosity you're being shown is nothing to be alarmed about! The friendly and magnanimous behavior of the people you'll be encountering today is a direct result of the compassion and generosity that you've shown so often in the past. You're entering a phase in which all the wonderful energy that you've sent out into the world will come flooding back at you -- it may seem like amazing good luck, but you've earned this.

Not sure what's going to happen, but, when I know, you'll know.

To entertain you in the interim... check out a typical day's convo between me and my former work spouse, Schelissa.

Schelissa: Me again. Stalking you. You have to hear the song on my MySpace page. I can't get it out of my head. Why don't you write songs about me with lyrics like "you put my heart in a headlock."? Shape up!

Me: Do you even have a job over there? Wacky lady.

Schelissa: Stop deflecting attention away from the fact that you don't write me songs. It's a serious issue. So stupid me who was up with a puking kid at 5 this morning forgot that there's a major new business presentation here today and I showed up in jeans. However, always able to make piss from lemons, I went to Marshalls and got the most perfect pair of black pants. I'm pretty sure God led me to them.

Me: Thanks for making me look incontinent in front of my co-workers. Now I need new pants.
You want a song eh?

Oh Schelissa…. Your jokes make me have to use the pissah…..
I love you soooooo, and wish we both made more doughhhhhhhhh
Just thought you should know…….
Whoa whoa oooooooo

Schelissa: Ok, that's good, but not even close to "you put my heart in a headlock." (meanie) I forgot to add that I changed into my new pants in my car in the parking lot of Marshalls.

Me: That's hot… and bite me.

Schelissa: Also, further evidence that I work in yet another looney bin, this is an actual conversation that took place between me, and leadership executives this morning:

(redacted for possible incriminating evidence)

Me: I'll see your convo and raise you an admirably tenacious give me your comments or I will hurt you email to my team:

"As much as I'd like to think I'm a rock star… anyone like to provide comments? If it helps, Schmelsea likes it and had no changes. (And, no, I didn't pay her). :-) "

Noone appreciates good humor.

Schelissa: LOVES IT! I think I could pass out from exhaustion at my desk.

Me: That's just creepy. I'm yawning and crashing here.

Schelissa: My excuse is a barfing 3 year old at 5 am. Tom told me to go home. I might take him up on it, although being here is easier than being home.

Me: I wish someone would send me home. I'm not even supposed to be here today. I'm supposed to be in Jamaica. (it's true. as a last ditch effort, i booked an entire all-inclusive trip).

Schelissa: I'm getting serious crap for changing out of jeans. Could you imagine how badly they'd be teasing me if they knew I got changed in my car?

Me: If you tell them you got changed in your car, it would be another example as to why you failed the sexual harassment training.

Schelissa: dude, that course was hard. i'm so sending the disc to you.

Me: Ok. But when I pass with flying colors, I don’t want to hear it. This is one blogworthy exchange, so don’t be surprised. Internet radio: CHER -- Jesse James!!!!

Schelissa: Just use a different name to protect the not so innocent. Something clever like Schlissa should do the trick. SWEET about Cher. Jesse James is awesome, but I prefer "We All Sleep Alone." If you were here, I'd sing it to you.

YOU MAY HAVE LOVAHHHS WHEREVAH YOU RHOME, BUT SOONAH OR LATAHHH, OOOOOOH WE AUHL SLEEP AHHHLONE.

You get the picture... we're supposed to be together... I know....

Wow.

So, the past day has been a very interesting one. Tonight, I was offered my dream job. Relax kids, I'm not moving to Key West.

I was asked by my company to help with recruitment. Unfortunately, everyone I've reached out to, has offered me a job instead of helping me get people into my company. (Ok, you're thinking 'oh, to have such problems' but, really not as easy as it sounds).

Well, tonight, an offer that I pretty much can't refuse has crossed my plate. And I've spent the last several hours thinking about it and realizing that I'm probably going to have to go for it. That despite every direction I thought I was headed in, I'm about to take a rapid right turn.

Seems your pal, G, may have finally hit something good.

Details to come...

On Probation...

I have temporarily graduated from physical therapy, with 2 weeks of at-home probation. Good times! Despite me telling my physical therapist that she's one in a long list of people breaking up with me, I have two weeks to try to recreate everything I do there and come in and prove that I can be alone. Ah, alone again.

As much as I love going there, I think this is one break up that I can live with... and besides I had to purchase all these 'therabands' so, more to add to the at-home gym collection. One day, they will be quite useful as clothes hangers... just like my old stationery bike.

In other news, there is a slim chance that my vacation will be back on. Fingers crossed, people.

Suprisingly everyone I have spoken with has recommended that I go away... far away. Even my parents have suggested I'd do best if I get out of town, and not even to Jersey.

Geez... here I thought people couldn't live without me.

On the Jersey subject, I've found that my Jersey roots are quite profitable down here... I gave gambling/casino advice to one of my clients today. You'd think they'd want to approve a vacation of someone providing tips on poker tournaments...

Hangover, Day 2.

I didn't think it was possible, but I'm on Day 2 of a hangover that won't quit. I've tried everything.... drugs, hair of the dog, hash browns... the throbbing continues. Of course, this could have more to do with the fact that my much needed and requested vacation was denied, therefore, my body has reached the point where it will do anything (including hoarding booze in my system) to avoid going to work tomorrow.

At any rate, whenever you're hungover, here is a song that never leaves your head:

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In Daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?
How about love?
How about love?
How about love?

Measure in love
Seasons of love.
Seasons of love.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes!
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned,
Or in times that he cried,
In bridges he burned,
Or the way that she died.

It's time now to sing out,
Tho' the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends
Remember the love!
Remember the love!
Remember the love
Measure in love
Seasons of love!
Seasons of love.

Oh you got to remember the love,
You know that love is a gift from up above
Share love, give love, spread love
Measure, measure your life in love.

How To Build a Bad Day...

1. Start with getting up balls early to go to PT.
2. Check email to find work crisis, which leads to cancelling PT.
3. Have bum uterus named Utie that clearly hates where you work and decides that you shouldn't be going there.
4. Convince Utie that until he can figure out a way to avoid us going into foreclosure based on his talents that we have to suck it up and go to work.
5. Deal with work crises and find out that your staff was just cut in half.
6. Try not to cry or mame boss when she looks at you like you're crazy when you say you're leaving because you're violently ill.
7. Come home.
8. On way home, see someone who is skateboarding past clearly enjoying their day.
9. Use bathroom and find out water has been shut off.
10. Try not to hurt building management when you find out water is not being turned on for several hours.
11. Work from bed, sick as dog.
12. Have computer crash and when you reboot, the entire screen comes up sideways.
13. Turn laptop on side to read instructions for how to get tech support.
14. Contact tech support in India.
15. After 15 minutes of f-tarded questions like "I don't see the problem when I log on", have tech support fix computer.
16. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Warning: Bring Taser to 1st Date

Ah, this story is just chock full o' nuts. I'm sure some of you are asking "Why hasn't G returned my calls?" Is she in Key West on an interview. Not yet... but getting close to a vacation that includes padded walls is a comin'.

So, last week I went on yet another first date. A good date too, might I add... not smut good like the last one prior to breaking shoulder, but minus the hangover, a good one all the same. So, the next day, I was surprised that I didn't hear from Date.

The day after, I got word that Date was carjacked on the way home, hence, no call. Now, being carjacked is definitely an excuse for no 2nd date and probably would've been the one I would've used. Instead, Date waited until I came back from the Loser's Lounge in Atlantic City treking poor Victor sans oil change thru the Nor'Easter to tell me that within 48 hours, he met someone else that both lived and worked closer to him, and therefore, I quickly became geographically undesirable.

That's impressive. Here's a new rule for the single guys... whenever possible, go with the "I'm sorry, G, you live in the crime ridden gay ghetto and I refuse to subject myself to it." over the "I met someone and they live closer"..... Just to make me feel better, por favor. BTW, for other's who've used weapons as excuses click here.

BTW, this is the last time I don't listen to my horoscope... b/c clearly that was the smooth talker.

Here is today's:

Quickie: A brainstorming session could lead to an interesting romantic invitation. (unless my boss propositioned me, this didn't happen)

Overview:Be careful or you could lose your temper, unless of course that's exactly what you want to do. Let's face it: Letting someone see just a bit of your ire could force them to hop to it. Use your power wisely and only for good! (this did happen and the outcome was NOT pretty... but the Starbucks barista is clearly terrified of me now.)

Hey, at least this weekend, The Paul gave me a cute new hat. I wish it was a lucky hat or a magical hat that turned me into Frosty the Snowman, but, as of now, no such luck.

I'm off have me a big ol' glass o' Clorox, I mean vodka, I mean water... whichever option makes you sleep better, that's what I'm drinking.

Stupid Shoulder...

Looks like I get to attend the Summer School flunky section of physical torture... turns out, although I have a decent range of motion, its not the recovery they were hoping for... hmph. Stupid shoulder...

Stuck in Traffic Behind Jesus...

Why should this holiday be any different for the non-fiction Griswolds? My family landed upon the area this Friday, with sister in tow. In effort to escape the family drama, my sister decided she would come here Friday night to crash.

After two days at work liberally dropping the f-bomb and preparing to walk out for lunch and not walk back in, I agreed, half heartedly. I was trying desperately to stay awake Friday, as they supposedly left hours before, when at 9:25, I finally get a call.

Sister: "We're stuck in traffic."
G: "It's Friday."
Sister: "This is different... seems like a procession of sorts."
G: "What? Are you trying to tell me that Jesus is causing traffic?"
Sister: "Is there a church nearby?"
(I live on the one street in the entire country that has the most churches on it. True fact.)
G: "Yes, like a million."
Sister: "Then, yes, I'm afraid so. People are just walking down the streets."

But even JC couldn't stop the eventual family chaos. My security guards are so used to the fam, they're smart enough to let them park illegally, knowing the whirlwind that occurs everytime they're here.

As if that wasn't enough, my horoscope had some disturbing news:

You're way too smart to be fooled by a smooth talker, although you might come awfully close today when some flattery turns your head. This charmer has a great line and a good story, and your interest is piqued. Follow your curiosity as far as you feel comfortable doing so, but keep in mind that all that glitters is definitely not gold. If something (or someone) seems too good to be true right now, then guess what? Have fun, but protect yourself.

That is a bummer.. b/c noone likes a smooth talker more than yours truly.

Ah... its going to be 6 long days before my trip to the red hot slots....

I hope everyone got a visit from the bunny.

Smooch,
G

A Nun Walks into a Drug Store...

This story isn't from me... but I found it in my email pile and had to post... Enjoy! And thanks for the person who shared it...


so yesterday i had to buy condoms. ummm i haven't bought condom since the late 90's. so i walked over to the drug store down the street. i wander around the store looking for them. and i spot them. they are directly under the RX counter. so i stand in the greeting card aisle and pretend that i am looking at cards, while trying to scope out what kinds of condoms they have.

but i don't have my glasses on and i can't see anything. also there is a crowd of people in front of the RX counter waiting for prescriptions. so i decided i will make my move. my plan... stroll past the rack of condoms, casually grab the box and move on quickly and discreetly. i think, "this will easy, no problem."

so i emerge from the greeting card aisle, i am on my way to the rack of condoms, when a blind nun and her seeing eye dog step infront of the rack and i plow into the woman ! everyone at the Rx counter looks over, three people come over to help her, it was a mess.

What's in a dream...

I've been having bizarre dreams lately. Truly bizarre. Most of them focus on me encountering people I haven't seen or thought of in years. One dream, I was at a huge luncheon, which turned out to be for me, and there were tons of people I haven't seen or thought about in years saying the same thing over and over again "There you are, we've missed you."

As if that wasn't enough, last night Melissa and I were trying to expose a murder that happened in the water. We went out in a kayak, but fell over board and there was a rogue wave.... she grabbed my hand and saved me. It was intense. But not as strange as her response when I told her:

"In my dream last night, NYC was under terrorist attack and you and I escaped on a raft. Unfortunately, an atomic bomb zapped us in the water, CAUSING US TO GO OVERBOARD BECAUSE OF THE BIG WAVES, but somehow we all ended up back at my house, which survived the blast because of the aluminum siding."

Not sure what that means... so I looked up "water" in the Dream Dictionary:

Cleansing. Life. Emotions. Ask yourself about your current feelings.

Then boat: Movement across the depths of feelings. Will attain aim in life.

Then murder: Violent end. Loss of control over a situation. Sorrow and failure.

Then friend: Joy and consolation. Aspect of self ready for integration.

Hmmm. All seems to sum it up for me...

Ways to Kill Bugs Part Deux

This second bug killing theory is ingenius and sticky free. Thanks to Melissa.. I'm able to kill both hoppies and creepy crawlies. Instructions below:

1. To kill creepy crawlies, boil pot of water.
2. After water boils, lunge full force at sink containing creepy crawlies.
3. Scream loudly... I usually prefer Heeeeeeeya! in the tone of Miss Piggy.
4. Toss boiling pot of water at sink.
5. Creepy crawly floats magically down drain.
6. To ensure safety that bug is fully removed, follow up with immediately turning on garbage disposal.
7. Enjoy bowl of cereal, with sound mind, and go to bed.

My New Definition of Heaven

Ah... the at-home massage. Wow. This could be the best experience I've had in a long time... And the best part... it was doctor's orders. That's right, I was told by my physical therapist that I was so tense, a massage was necessary to aid in my recovery. Thanks to my pal, I was finally connected to a great massage therapist who comes to the home and does an amazing job.

This is great news for The Paul, because my back-up plan was to kidnap him from his Jersey home and force him to work on me.

Best of both worlds, I'm not a criminal and I'm relaxed.

smoooo(ahhhh)ch,
G

What a Sh*tball Weekend...

Or maybe this post should be entitled "further fodder showing that Sweet Baby Jesus hates me"....

I was supposed to have this awesome weekend... after my one-year review on Friday, I was supposed to travel to my favorite shore bar, drink a lovely Sandinyerbutt-ini made by my favorite, Mr. M. Mixologist. Then after a night of poker, snacks and fun.. I was supposed to mosey on up to see my better half, Melissa... We were scheduled to see a movie that only she and I can see together, Blades of Glory...

Then, after even more fun, I was going to head all the way down the good ol' GSP to help my pop take the maiden voyage in his new boat.

I know what you're thinking... What did she break now? Femur? Nah... just got tangled up in family drama, so the only I got to do was help the Captain take his boat... given my messed up weekend.. its no wonder that the trip started like this:

Dad: That's weird, why is the bilge pump spewing out water?
G: Um, its done that like 4 times why you were loading. I thought that's what a bilge pump does? (how many of you are impressed so far w/my nautical-ness?!)
Dad: Yes, it does when you're taking on large quantities of water.
G: Are you sure they put the plugs in the boat when they put it in the water yesterday?
Dad: J**sus Christ.
(Dad runs to stern -that's back for you non-nauticals- of boat and starts checking things furiously)
Dad: The damn thing is leaking!
G: I'm pretty sure that's not supposed to happen.
Dad: Grrrrrrrrrrrr.

Turns out it was a cracked something or other... and we were able to trudge through our 1 1/2 hour long trip in 45 degree weather. Lucky me.

Couple that with the 11 1/2 hours of driving I did this weekend due to the closing of I-95 on Friday and you pretty much see that it doesn't exactly go up hill from here.

Until now, of course... as my horoscope says:

Overview:Right when the stars give you the opportunity of a lifetime, you feel faint of heart. If you take this chance, you have so much to gain. Breathe your way through it and you'll be more than fine. Go for it already!

Clearly, it's a sign that I'll be hearing any minute from the lovely folks at Key West Magazine...

I am PREPARED for my luck to change.

Smooch,
G

So Lucky...

I've often said that I'm so lucky that my friends have all had cute kids, because I'd have trouble lying if they were ugly. I realize now, that I'm even luckier that my brother reproduced a cutie, or else it would be even more awkward.



Now, I know I'm biased here... but she's pretty darn cute and as the proud grandpop likes to point out, clearly brillant because she's able to flip over at 3 1/2 months.

Yea, between my sister, Lucky and now Sophia.. I've completely fallen off the Daddy's Girl radar. At least he remembers my name... most days.

Smooch,
G

Because I'd be a coward if I didn't...

Here you go people... Here is the proof that I did in fact apply for the job this evening. Oh, and for those of you that never really knew, this cover letter also serves as a look at what I have done over the past 8 years. :-)

Enjoy! And if I make it to Southern Most Part of the US, well, everyone is free to visit at any time.

Smooch,
G


I reviewed your advertisement in Media Bistro for an executive editor for Key West magazine and felt it would be remiss if I did not throw my hat into the ring for this incredible opportunity.

To date, my career has taken several remarkable twists and turns and I believe that having this chance would give me the opportunity to create another success. I began my career in college, working in several different positions for the trade publication, Whole Foods Magazine. A journalism major, I engaged in other media internships, working as newspaper assistant, where I wrote stories and designed layout as well as an internship for the WB Evening News in Philadelphia.

My skills throughout these experiences landed me in my first full-time job, where I became the publicist for Dr. Robert C. Atkins, the world-renowned cardiologist and author of Dr. Atkins New Diet Revolution. Beyond managing Dr. Atkins and all of his media, I was in charge of the company’s media relations, managing several international public relations firms and all partnerships with major corporations including TGI Fridays, 7-11 and Subway.

After deciding to leave the company, I relocated to Washington, DC, where I headed public relations efforts for the Anxiety Disorders Association of America, concentrating on coalition building and forming partnerships with other mental health associations. While at ADAA, I developed and implemented award-winning awareness products and programs including a college campus initiative that received the Award of Excellence from the American Society of Association Executives and, as part of the ADAA Mother-Daughter Campaign, a calendar, Women Talk: Open the Dialogue – Triumph Over Anxiety Disorders, which won a National Health Information Award for Patient Education from the Health Information Resource Center. Additionally, I secured a high-level media partnership with Self magazine to release results of a national survey kicking-off the first ever national anxiety disorders awareness week, “National Stress Out Week.” The successful campaign is currently in its second year and was also expanded into a college-version called “National Stress Out Day” which takes place at universities nationwide during final exam season.

Currently, I’m working for the Chandler Chicco Agency in Washington, DC, which was recently named both PR Week’s Agency of the Year and Healthcare Agency of the Year by the Holmes Report. Recruited by their talent management, I’ve been producing and implementing public affairs and relations campaigns for a range of clients including pharmaceutical companies, hospital alliances and not-for-profit foundations.

Although my healthcare experience is significant, from my years of media experience, I’m highly adept in writing and story development. Additionally, I’m extremely capable and quite familiar with managing a staff including freelancers and artistic design. At my core, I am a writer, enjoying creative writing in my spare time thru my personal blog that I have maintained for several years.

I realize my resume is not typical of the ones you’ll be receiving, yet I’m confident, if given the opportunity, I would grow to be a key member of your staff and be able to lead the team successfully.

Thanks for taking the time to consider my attached resume.

Best,

Gina Mangiaracina