Friday, May 30, 2003

I’ve been beaten with sacks of oranges, my retinas seared by strobe lights and my throat shredded by alternate doses of lye and pond scum.  Have I landed in some horrific early 80s South American prison?  No, just my bed, after an evening with Eric and Valencia and Em. Actually, we were pretty good last night – the usual too-much drinking occurred, but we didn’t touch cigarette one.  So what’s with the death rattle?  Oh, that’d be the SARS. Last night was Roti de Porc Poele with Sauce Moutarde a la Normande, Navets Glaces a Brun and sautéed eggplant.  That’s casserole roasted pork with mustard sauce and glazed turnips.  I can’t remember a goddamned thing about it.  Well, that’s not quite true.  The pork was overdone, the cream and mustard sauce separated, and the turnips didn’t really glaze, because the liquid they were cooking in didn’t really reduce to nothing.  We ate at a little after eleven, which is what happens when you don’t get home until eight thirty because your job is this cosmic time suck/stress generator that makes you want to poke needles in your eyes.  Valencia’s got the coolest hair in the world, which I’m always forgetting.  We had a good time despite the crappy food, and even though I was nodding off at the table like I haven’t done since I went out to that Italian place in Bay Ridge with my brother and Eric after spending a day of full-tackle Shakespeare rehearsal in Central Park, followed by a couple of vodka tonics at the tile bar, and after Eric had, unbeknownst to me, dosed me with two Tylenol PMs, so that by the time I’d ingested half a glass of wine and a plate of Bolognese they had to drag me out of there by my heels.  Anyway, a good time. And now it’s to work, where if I’m lucky I’ll get to converse with some irate firemen and morons who don’t know what a fax machine is, and I’ll get lovely comments like, “Wow, Julie, I don’t know how you handle all those crazy people so well,” and “Good job taking care of the Chairman – it’s yeoman’s work.”  In other words, “Thumbs up!  Nobody does subservient yes-man like you!” Maybe I’ll go back to bed for a little first.   7:18:55 AM    comment []