Let Jesus Take the Wheel

If all goes according to plan, I will be starting a new job in the near future. The process of getting said new job has been painfully protracted and the consequence of the delay has been the incessant asking of EVERYONE I KNOW if "the new gig has started yet" and "any word on the start date" to my personal favorite "you're still here?". I have to muster all my charm and goodwill not to respond "I am sitting at my computer right? I would take that as a pretty sure sign that I am still here". But instead, I smile and say "Ha. yep. still here. keeping busy, though".

Last night I was skyping with my father who, despite his strong efforts, can not resist asking me about the new job. I tried to allay his fears last night by saying that he could rest assured knowing that I would not forget to mention to him that my months-long wait had come to an end and I had started my new job.

By way of quasi-apology he said that he just had so little to worry about that he couldn't help but worry about me. I pointed out to him several things in his life that I thought were worth worrying about to which he quickly responded "nah, that's all in god's hands". I agreed with the approach and said "yeah, god is my co-pilot". And then, without hesitation, my dear dad informed me that: "Nope, god's riding with me. He say's you're fucked".

Guess I'll have to switch my bumper sticker, then. Rafa would never let me down.

Dreamweaver

About once a week I have some variation of the same dream. I dream that I am driving a car but can not hit the brakes. Sometimes I can't reach the breaks even though I am stretching my leg out as far as it will go. Sometimes it's because I am in the back seat and can't figure out how to get to the front. I also have the opposite of this dream, where I am trying to run but can. not. get. my. legs. to. move. These dreams are right up there with the "holy shit, it's final exam day and I didn't study...I am not going to graduate" dreams...which I still have and wake up feeling oddly uneasy. Not nightmares, per se, but still unpleasant and not nearly as fun as the time that I dreamt that Justin Timberlake and I were dating and on vacation in Sun Valley, ID. I woke from that dream feeling awesome.

My friends at the New York Times are telling me now that I can have all Justin dreams and no more car dreams and definitely no dreams where I have a baby and can't remember where I set it down only to realize that one of the cats at my aunt and uncle's house has eaten it! Oh no, no more of those dreams. From now on, what you see below will be what I see between the hours of 9:00pm and 7:00am:

AC

I feel like lately my second job (albeit a super fun one) is celebrating 30th birthdays. I celebrated my own with a blow-out pool party that was filled with family, friends, dogs, and a parrot pinata. We had Brie's (friend not sister) in Nashville at a great restaurant where several bottles of wine were ordered and Real Housewives of New Jersey meets jet-lagged-Japanese wedding-guest impersonations were performed. And the evening ended magically with a killer round of charades out on the patio of the Hampton Inn with Brie exposing her stomach to get the group to "Team Jacob" (sidenote: I am now a staunch member of said team but we shall save that story for another time).

And this past weekend we had Jordan's birthday. Jordan flew to Philadelphia on Friday for night in the city before her brother joined us and we headed to Atlantic City. Wanting all of my friends, former boyfriends, and childhood playmates to know about the spectacular weekend I had on tap, I updated my status on facebook to let all who were interested (and all who weren't) know that I was about to have a weekend of "ACs". The first AC was Audrey Claire where Jordan and I dined on Friday night, followed by AC (Atlantic City of course) all of which I hoped had AC (air conditioning), don't worry I complimented myself on the cleverness of that wordsmithing.

Atlantic City managed to exceed my rather high expectations in multiple categories. Accommodations: we stayed at the Water Club where our room was really nice and the complimentary toiletries were top-notch. Dining: Great seafood dinner at the Borgata. Sadly, our performance at the blackjack table did not permit us the $395/oz caviar on the menu. People watching: It was in this last category that A.C. honestly nailed it. I mean, they hit this one OUT OF THE PARK. If Jersey Shore ever needs to host an open casting call, they need to look no further than the pool at the Water Club, it is gold! I can now spot fake boobs from 100 yards out and realize that it makes NO sense to have 1 tattoo when you can have 17. But wait, the people watching gets even better. In addition to the wanna-be Snookis at the pool, I got to add another A.C. to my list: A.C. SLATER!!!!! Unbelievable. I peeped him coming out of mur.mur and stood on my chair and screamed "holy crap, is that Slater???". The blackjack dealer quickly and firmly told me to sit down. I did one better, grabbed my chips from the table and Jordan's iPhone to get a couple of candids!!

All the News That's Fit to Print

I read the New York Times everyday. I look forward to the Science Times on Tuesdays, Dining&Wine on Wednesdays, Thursday Styles, and the Sunday Magazine is one of life's true pleasures (even if the articles are a little long and it sometimes takes me a week to finish them). I have favorite writers and contributors, David Pogue (the technology writer...a testament to his writing really that I read his columns at all given that I don't have TV and my cell phone is 5 years old) Mark Bittman, David Brooks (recently names the Liberals' favorite conservative). And I have least favorites: I am looking at you nose-in-the-air film critics A.O. Scott and Manhola Dargis.

Well, I have a new favorite to add to this: The Crib Sheet: The 10 Things to Talk About This Weekend. I am not sure how long this column has been around but I am just now catching on and this shit is FUNNY. Here is # 7 from the week's list:

Bedbugs infest Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister stores in New York. God sends insects to those who flaunt their abs in the workplace.