fearlesstemp: (working girl)
90% of the reason I spent twenty minutes digging my sorry car out of the mountain of snow my brother had so kindly buried it under (Never let a younger brother snowblow a driveway your car is parked in. It is just not a good idea) was so that I could wear my Truly Awesome Tights, which are black with little shamrocks on them and therefore only appropriate for today. I bought them last week for 75% off, and I'm wearing a green shirt that doesn't quite match the green of the shamrocks, but I don't care! I'm festive! I can't decide if the tights are cute or if they're a sign that I'm fast on my way to being a person who wears puff-paint sweatshirts with Christmas trees on them during the holidays.

In short: Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Century City, that show about lawyers in the future, premiered last night and watched part of it and taped the rest and I'm pretty sure it was everything I dreamed of (and more!). do i really need a spoiler cut tag? just in case )

A source of stress right now is the fact that I think I'm going gray. I've always had a few stray gray hairs, ever since I was sixteen or so, and there have always been three or four I could see in the part of my hair, and I thought they were kind of a quirky localized incident so I left them alone. Then I started noticing them more and pulling them out, and then yesterday in the car on my way back from lunch, I thought to check the rest of my head and OH MY GOD they're EVERYWHERE! I'm only 23! Isn't this young? Or isn't it? My mother says it's normal and I'm overreacting and she's probably right, but watch me still freak out. I mean, you can't really see them from a distance, and I have a lot of hair so you have to be looking for them, but I really don't want to go gray! My grandfather was completely gray by the age of 25. I'm nervous. My hair's super-dark (a coworker called it a "soft black" which is how I'm going to describe it from now on) and I've never dyed it and I don't WANT to and grrr.

I'm getting old! Wearing festive legwear, sprouting gray hairs, looking for logic in cheesy sci fi lawyer shows! What is happening to me?

To end on a less neurotic note, I leave you with an Irish Blessing:

May those that love us, love us.
And those that don't love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May He turn their ankles
So we will know them by their limping.
fearlesstemp: (lionel)
I would like it noted for the record that I, Jessica A. MyLastName, finished my presentation before 9PM on the day before it was due. Yes! I'm done! DONE! This is usually the time I'm just getting started on project like this! I'm usually entering Hour Two of Seven of Exhausted Panic but now I'm just enjoying the fact that I'm done! Done!

I spent Friday night and a good chunk of Saturday afternoon in the library, and then spent a few hours this afternoon/evening working on it in the dining room away from the TV and wow, it's like all of a sudden I'm realizing that all those things I'd been told for years about studying? All those things I'd tell people when I was tutoring them in academic strategies/study skills? They're SO TRUE. You *do* need to get away from distractions! You shouldn't wait till the last minute! My God! It's a whole new academic world!

It's a shame I didn't realize this, oh, five years ago.

Anyway. Other weekend accomplishments: Got a flu shot, which is still making my arm all painful. Also got a haircut, which was good but a little disturbing because of the following exchange:

Hairdresser: So. How long's it been since you've had it cut?

Me: Well, you know, I haven't seen you in about four months, but I had to go in August and you were on maternity leave and so I went with my aunt to her hairdresser -- she has curly hair too -- my aunt, not the hairdresser, though come to think of it, so did she, but anyway! I went with her, to this lady, and she was kind of scary and intimidating and told me I used the wrong shampoo and --

Hairdresser: Right. Well, I'm just asking because it looks like she forgot to cut the left side of your head.

Me: What?!

Hairdresser: Yeah, it looks like -- hey! Cindy! Come here, look at this! [Cindy crosses room, stands next to my swivelly chair.] See, look at --

Cindy: Oh wow, yeah. That whole side.

Hairdresser: It's at least two inches longer, all on this side.

Me: Oh my God! Have I been Pathetic Lopsided Hair Girl for two months?! You're not allowed to have any more babies! No more!

Hairdresser: ...

Cindy: ...

Me: I mean, congratulations! Got any pictures?


Anyway. My hair! Has been freaky looking and I didn't notice! Hairdresser later said it probably wasn't noticeable because of the way I part it, but still. Or maybe she was making it up? As an elaborate ruse to keep me from going to the Interim Hairdresser permanently? I don't know! The Hairdressers' Realm is a mysterious place I do not fully understand!

I think I like my new cut, but I will not know for sure until a few days have passed and the New Cut Excitement has worn off.

Also, GH? To quote Justn's McDonald's campaign, I'm lovin' it. Carly + Alcazar 4EVA! I loved the black and white fantasies last week, including Alcazar's bad hair. I think it only made me love him more. I have no objectivity! None!

Must sleep.
fearlesstemp: (working girl)
I am ready for something EARLY. Like, SIGNIFICANTLY early! I don't have to leave for my interview for an hour and I am showered, dressed, blow-dried, etc. Holy crap! Ok, so I still have to put makeup on and eat something but seriously! Usually I am at this stage in the preparation five minutes before I have to go somewhere, not a full hour!!

I deserve no credit for this. I have only my digestive track to blame, as I woke up an hour early (and by "an hour early" I mean "right when my alarm was set to go off" -- I traditionally hit the snooze bar five to six times before I get out of bed) with a terrible stomachache and couldn't go back to sleep. And so here I am! Kind of ready!

Also: I think I have to buy a flatiron because my hair is getting too long to straighten without one. I just have too much! I do it the way you're supposed to! I have a big round brush! I have a hair dryer! I have a clippy to hold my hair up so that I can dry it in pieces! And yet still I have mostly straight hair with occasional wave regions that I cannot destroy. It's kind of annoying.

Why am I getting all gussied up on a mere Thursday? Because as you all know, Jess Hair Straightening typically Means Something because it takes, oh, forever to do and is hot and uncomfortable and annoying, and so I only go through with it if I'm particularly bored or if I have Someplace To Be. It is the latter today: I have a job interview! A temp to perm thing at a real estate development company. It's kind of annoying because my temp agency had told me that there was nothing out there, really, and that it would take a while to place me and so I'd made all these mental plans to chill out and go visit friends and take trips and stuff and now I have to go on an interview! Am mildly nervous. Am doing my best to block the mild nerves out so, hopefully, they can attack me full-force mere minutes before the interview instead of dealing with them now. I hate being nervous. It's one of the main reasons my life goal is to be calm, cool, collected, sophisticated -- such people don't get nervous.

I am going on this interview because my last assignment finished up last Friday. No more Skeevy Law Firm! I do not miss it. But! But but! Mr. Boss! Mr. Boss wrote me a reference letter! Without my asking! In it, he blatantly lied and talked up how punctual I am (yeah right! I was eight minutes late every day, like, the last ten weeks of my assignment). I think my parents are kind of annoyed with him because now whenever they give me a hard time, I start quoting the letter all "Yeah, so I didn't empty the dishwasher exactly when I said I would! I have a pleasant and charming demeanor, dammit!"

Anyway! I better go eat something and throw some makeup on or all of my being-ready-earlyness will waste away! Am off!
fearlesstemp: (oh goodness)
Am massive tool. Forgot that I was supposed to cover reception and was sitting at my desk chair-dancing to Come Sail Away when the poor receptionist called me and asked tentatively if I was supposed to be covering her lunch. And I was! And I was a HALF HOUR late! What is wrong with me? I've done this before! Other secretaries came up and were all "It helps if you put it in your calendar, you know, maybe you should write it down. Like, right now. No, right now. Before you forget, you ditzy temp."

Ok, so maybe those weren't their exact words. They were very nice about it and I was very nice in return and took their suggestion to heart and all that, but internally I was thinking, "Ok, I'll 'write it down' but I don't NEED to. What kind of moron forgets twice? Pshaw."

Apparently a moron just like me.

In other other news: I purchased some new hair stuff that's supposed to de-frizz one's hair and I can't tell if it works. My hair does seem *different*, sure, and maybe it is less frizzy, but I think it's only de-frizzed on the outer layer, so I have this like de-frizzed outer shell and all this super-poufy hair underneath. Quite the do. I'm sure it's all the rage in Paris. This, as well as the massive expanses of hairy leg that I missed while shaving my legs this morning, is really adding to the Unkempt Temp Look I achieve every day.

Ah, Mr. Boss is back. I sense dictation tapes in my future, which means fewer boring LJ entries from work. Aren't you lucky?
fearlesstemp: (Default)
The important news first: I got a haircut this afternoon and it doesn't look hideous. Well, at least not to me. Other people may disagree, but not to the degree that they would point and laugh on the street. Or at least I hope not.

While on my way to the hairdresser, careening around a sharp curve on the highway at near-unsafe speed in order to make it to the appointment on time, I heard Like I Love You on the radio and, naturally, freaked out. Ain't nobody love that song like I love it, man, and it's really quite embarrassing. I screamed so loudly upon realizing what it was that I had to roll up the window because I got self-conscious about drivers in the lanes next to me hearing me and reporting me to the authorities.

Seriously? It's kind of scary. On the way back to the office, again speeding to make it on time, I heard it and (as is to be expected) freaked out. And then I was all, "I can handle this! I can stop freaking out and be cool and sing along to this song which I do so enjoy!" And I tried, but I ended up screeching "JUSTIN!!" every few words. It was beyond my control, really.

It really is a good thing the lady in the cubicle in front of me switched her radio from Top 40 to Classic Rock because really, the potential for embarrassing public freakouts would just be too great otherwise.

Speaking of embarrassing public freakouts! I'm a jumpy person by nature, I don't know why, I just am. So at work every time someone pops their head in my cubicle to say something to me I tend to jump up out of my seat and, occasionally, gasp "Ohmygoodness." (And yes, I really do say Ohmygoodness. That is Exactly How Cool I Am.) So now they all treat me like a very fragile creature and creep around the edges of my cubicle whispering, "I'm just going to borrow your Directory, don't get scared." And I appreciate the courtesy, really I do, but every time it happens I'm reminded of what a weird, skittish sob I really am. What is wrong with me? I feel like I need to go through some kind of intense training where I sit in a carefully-crafted reconstruction of my cubicle and have people jump out at me shouting things like "I need you to draw up an Answer and Discovery Demands!" and "There are bagels in the conference room!" until I stop flinching.

And from the Pathetic Files: The secretary in front of me has pictures of her dog and her boyfriend in her cubicle. The secretary behind me has pictures of her kids. My immediate reaction? "I wonder if I could smuggle in a small picture of JC to tuck away somewhere..."

And that is all.

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fearlesstemp

February 2009

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