DJ's Chick Lit Blog

You Can't Fire Me...

2006-12-28T13:19:00.000-08:00

Most people love the holidays. But most people don't work for Moxie, who has 27 holiday parties to organize. 13 of these parties happen to fall onto my desk. So I have been going from hotel to ballroom, hanging holly and misteltoe and shiny red and gold ornaments from high ceilings. We will NOT even discuss the carnival themed holiday party.

Okay, we so will.

Consider draping the entire ballroom in a circus tent. Hiring clowns and magicians, renting popcorn and cotton candy machines, hot dog “stands”…The bar was turned into a carousel, complete with lit horses going up and down. I was a wreck. I had not slept more than a few hours a week in the last month and I was losing it. The staff at Moxie was being...a little less than holiday-spirited. I asked for raise three times in the last three months, to which Ross had laughed the first time, said to ask another time, and finally, told me that if I really wanted to make more money I should look for another job. Which is hard to do when you are working 80-90 hours a week. But something had fallen out of the sky, and even though it was crazy, I was considering it more and more. Especially since I currently had 126 boxes of assorted stationary on my desk to print out follow up holiday cards. Seriously. I was on my fourth attempt to shove the card stock through the printer to print up Ross' special holiday greeting. "What's the hold-up?" Ross barked from his office.
"The printer." My voice was probably louder and sharper than necessary. "I have been trying to work with the templates for two hours, Ross, maybe I should-"

Ross held up a hand. "I want these done!" I shot him a dirty look as I pulled out the manual feed tray, crashed into Lainie's desk, overturned a plant, and landed on the floor.
"We do not have time for you goofing off!" Ross exploded. "I want those cards done NOW!"

I stood up and faced him. "Ross, I will finish those cards as soon as I can." Again, my tone was sharper than I'd intended, but I was so tired, and so sick of everything. I limped back to my desk and slumped in my chair when I noticed I had an email in my personal mail...from Jay Avano. Jay Avano was the president of a non-profit organization that ran events for teens in Atlanta. I had met him at a conference three years ago and we had chatted briefly. And he had offered me a job.

"Just wondering if you had thought any more about my offer. I'd love to fly you in to meet some people. Let me know. -J"

I looked around the office. Everyone seemed to be moving underwater, in slow motion. I was so tired. I was done. My hands were shaking, and I stood up and made my way to Ross' office. He did not even look up from his desk. "Cards ready?"

"Ross, there' something wrong with the printer. I'm going to send the cards over to Simco Printing, they can do them overnight for us."

Ross grunted. "Whatever. You can finish the report on the Ellison Holiday Ball."

"Ross, I have worked really, really hard these past few months. I really think we should sit down and talk about my future with this company. I would like a 7% raise."

Now Ross was paying attention. "I don't even get 7%. Are you kidding?"

"No. I have proven myself over and over and nothing is ever good enough for you. What do I need to do?" My voice was rising but I couldn't check myself. "I work harder than anybody else here! We all have our off days, I know that I am not perfect, but seriously! What else do I need to do?"

"Look, if you don't feel valued-"

"Don't feel VALUED?" Now I was shouting. "Of course I don't feel valued! Nobody here feels valued!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw everyone staring at me. Joe was shaking his head. "Get a grip." He mouthed. I glared at him.

"Look, maybe if you just work a little harder-"

"Work a little HARDER?" I shrieked. "I brought you more business this year than the last two years combined. My events raised more money than Joe and Rodney's teams combined!"

"You had some high profile clients," Ross waved his hands dismissively.

"Yes, I DID have some high profile clients. And who kept them happy? Who brought Heather Carrington her gummy bears and hot chocolate? Who brought Nancy Wentworth her double espressos which I STILL have not gotten reimbursed for? Who walked Lincoln Denton's three DOGS?"

"You are very good at client services, that's not the point." Ross argued.

I folded my arms. "Then what is the point? Am I getting a raise or not?"

"We can discuss it at your next review in 6 months. Likely it will be 3%." Ross replied.
"If you want a serious salary increase , get another job."

"Fine."

"Great, I'm glad we resolved this issue. Can you get me the Ellison file?"

"Consider this my two weeks notice."

"Excuse me?" Ross was clearly confused.

"Ross, I have learned so much from you." I took a deep breath. "But I don't want to do this anymore. Thank you for everything, but I'm done here."

"You can't be serious."

"I quit."

Abandoned at the "Beach"

2006-08-23T14:41:00.000-07:00

Joe glanced up at me. He corners of his mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh.
"Hey."
I glared at him as I regained my footing. "Hey."
"So, how's it going over here?"
"Shut up." I reached out again to secure the corner of the net. "This is ridiculous."
"I'm not going to disagree with you." Joe folded his arms. "So, you're having a great day then?"
I climbed down. "I'm glad you find this so amusing."
This time he really did start laughing. "You've got to admit this is funny."
"Not so much." I plopped onto the floor. "I see no humor in this freaking situation! I'm not getting paid to sit here and blow up freaking beach balls."
"Well, I'm sure you'll get a nice bonus." Joe said. "Anyway, I was just passing by and wanted to say hi."
"Do you want to stay and help me finish?" I asked in a small voice. "Please? I'll love you forever and ever."
"You already do." Joe looked at his watch. "And I have a conference call at nine. Sorry babe." He bopped me on the head with his portfolio and left.

Beach Bash Fun!

2006-08-17T07:30:00.000-07:00

I am sitting in a ballroom, surrounded by beach balls. Yes, beach balls. I am actually blowing up the beach balls. The Annual Sara and Jonathan Fellers Foundation for Children's Education End of Summer Party (yes, that is the actual name of the event) was tonight. And of course, as Moxie was the event planner for the party, and the party had a beach theme, naturally we were decorating with beach balls. Yeah. I know.

Ross was out and stressed about the event, calling hourly to check in. Joe was busy with a corporate conference, Lainie was training a new associate, and I had the Fellers party. Lucky me. If you thought the Carrington Ball was tough...Sara Fellers wanted sand on the tables. Tropical cocktails. Waiters and waitresses in grass skirts. She had originally wanted a luau but somehow I talked her out of it. So a beach theme. Striped umbrellas, sand, and lounge chairs were everywhere. And there I was, sitting in the middle of it all, with the beach balls. Aside from big buckets of sand with shovels and sand castles for centerpieces, which I still had to finish, I also had to attach the balls to a huge screen that we were going to hang from the ceiling of the ballroom. And of course, I also had to field the forwarded calls from my office and deal with the endless problems that kept cropping up.

Attaching beach balls to a screen--not so easy. Using a stapler, glue gun, and floss I finally figured out how to make it work (after an hour). Then I spent another hour and half affixing the beach balls to the screen, and then it was time to suspend the screen from the ceiling. I wearily picked up the two radio the conference center had given me. "Martin, it's me, I'm ready.."
No answer.
"Martin?"
"Martin goes home," a chipper voice said. I swore. How was I going to get the $#@^ thing up?
I sighed and climbed up on the ladder to secure one corner of the screen. As I reached up to hoof the wire over the hook I had thankfully had Martin put up earlier, my phone vibrated in my pocket, the radio beeped, and my shoe fell off and landed on Joe's shoulder as he strode into the ballroom. And I grabbed on to the hook for dear life.

Edited! Author's Note: Clarification

2006-07-26T09:31:00.000-07:00

Hey, Readers! Just a quick note: A few of you have been guessing who some people are in the story...a lot of people are clearly people in my life (Ross is obviously Elie, Joe is Hillel, Jax is Hinda...) but lots of people, while rooted in real people, are fictional or an amalgam of people (What movie is that from?!). For example, David may seem familiar, but he is really two people. Also, Daniel is not really a douchebag. It's FICTIONAL. It's DRAMA! Because this whole story, while eerily similar to events in my life, is actually NOT REAL. Just clarifying. Thanks for reading!

XOXO

Addendum: Yes, Ed, you're right. Occasionally I do reveal the real "inspiration" behind the character.

Joe the Hero?!

2006-07-24T15:01:00.000-07:00

The week wore on. I was at work from 8 am until 8 pm, hammering out the brochure. Joe and I were getting along pretty well. Drinking lots of coffee. I was also doing other projects for Ross. I was stressed. The headache I'd had for the last three days had intensified. My apartment was a mess, I was exhausted, and I was constantly checking my phone to see if the Douchebag had called. And no, by the way. he hadn't. In almost a week. And no, nothing bad happened to him because I'm sure if it did I would know. Okay?!)

Umayeah. So nothing from the Douchebag. No calls, no texts, no emails. And so I feel like it's time to pull the plug and say goodbye.
"You always say that," Lainie said, not even looking up from her computer.
"Yeah but I'm really done."I insisted.
"I know."
I sighed. "Look, if I say it enough, it'll happen eventually, right?"
"Hey." Joe waved at me from his office. "Let's go. Next round of changes."
I made a pouty face and dragged myself to his office.
"I'm thinking of moving."
"Great. You live in the crappiest neighborhood." Joe circled a blurb. "This looks weird. Double check that?"
"Yeah."
"Looking good on this page..."
"You realize this is maybe the eleventh draft."
"Make sure you cross reference these dates with the master calendar."
"Yeah." I peered over his shoulder.
"You didn't change this paragraph."
"I didn't do it on purpose. Re-read it."
Joe mumbled the blurb. "You're right. "
We slogged through the 45 page document and Joe sent me back to my desk to input his myriad of corrections. When I finished that, I dragged myself back to Joe's desk with a stack of publicity materials.
Joe rifled through the stack silently until he got to the last one. He lifted an eyebrow.
"Um, I know, that's why I'm showing it to you."
"Okay, take out that box and then rearrange everything around the graphic."
"Great, thanks." I went back to my desk. I was running out of time, these had to be printed by the end of the day. I did what Joe said. It still didn't look right.
"I can't do it." I reported.
"Yes, you can."
"Clearly not."
Joe sighed. "Let me do it."
Ten minutes later, I had a perfect piece. Joe was definitely on my good list.

This week, anyway.

ARGH!

2006-07-14T09:34:00.000-07:00

To make my life even more difficult, I had not heard from Daniel the Douchebag in several days. WTF? Seriously!
I was so stressed and irritated. I was jotting down notes during my meeting with Joe and suddenly I burst out, "What the hell is wrong with him?"
Joe looked up from his desk. "Excuse me?"
I sighed and leaned back. Joe swiveled his chair around. "You have got to stop this," he said firmly. "This is not good for you. I wish I could tell you that there is some way to make yourself feel better when you like someone and they're not into you, but there's not. Life just sucks that way sometimes." (AUTHOR'S NOTE: Actual advice from "Joe". Not bad, right?)
"I know." I was quiet for a minute. "I just wish I knew WHY he doesn't like me."
"Not going to help you." Joe tapped me with his pen. "Come on, let's finish this up."
A few hours later, I was not feeling better. I was so annoyed that I started yelling at Eliana on the phone.
"I just don't freaking understand why he is so freaking irritating!" I started. "I mean, we freaking talk every day for a few freaking weeks, and then...nothing! That's it, El, it's over!"
Beep. I glanced at my caller ID. It was Daniel.

And so it begins...

2006-07-14T09:17:00.000-07:00

It's starting again.

Oh, you aren't sure what I am talking about?

I'm on my third large iced coffee. It is Wednesday morning. It is early. I have already worked 22 hours. That would be on Monday and Tuesday. I am stressed. STRESSED. Two of our biggest events of the year were coming up in September, back to back, and I was coordinating a huge brochure for another client, plus the new company publicity. I also had all my usual press releases, searches, and administrative responsibilities. Oh, and I was also trying to divide my time between Joe and Ross, who both thought their work took priority. Neither liked to share me.

The brochure I was working on was two weeks overdue to the designer. I was still waiting finalization on numerous details, including prices and dates. Joe was getting VERY antsy. By antsy I mean FREAKING OUT. And Ross wanted the Moxie publicity out and we were already behind on the preliminary deadlines for the September and October events. I had heartburn. I had a headache. And I had STRESS. Half of my friends were annoyed with me because I was too tense to carry on a normal convesation without interrupting and shrieking "Oh, no, I forgot to input the December changes!". A few others, like Trace and Jax, had taken to alternating camping out in my apartment so I would not forget what they looked like. Not that I was ever in my apartment, because I was in..the office. Where else?

I had left my apartment this morning at 7 am, got to the office at 8 in anticipation of my meeting with Joe. He waltzed in at 8:45 with a large iced coffee. Just one. I gave him a dirty look. "Thanks, but I didn't want any." Joe just laughed and dropped a huge file on my desk. "Changes. Let's meet in an hour."
"Right." I said brightly.
"Great, you're here." Ross handed me a thick folder. "Take care of these. And why is the new text not on the sebsite yet?"
"Ross, I need her to finish the brochure changes," Joe interceded. "She can do this next week."
"Well, it should have been done last week," Ross pointed out. "So today."
"I'm sorry, but the brochure takes priority."
"Guys." I took a deep breath. "It's fine. It will all get done." I picked up the phone to cancel on Emily.
"Don't stay late," Joe said when Ross had returned to his office. "None of that really needs to get done this week."
"It's fine." I turned to the files. "Thanks."
"Get yourself some more coffee."
I turned to glare at him. He winked and walked away .

2006-07-05T09:22:00.000-07:00

I am out of post it notes. This is a bad, bad omen.

2006-06-29T11:28:00.000-07:00

Ross was away, which meant I was actually leaving by 6 every day. I wanted to have some fun. I sent an email around to the girls:

Hey Ladies,
Let's break out the margaritas and go see a chick flick tonight! Who's in?

The responses:

Tracey: I'm leaving in two days for vaca, sorry babe!

Eliana: Tonight? I'm hanging out with Zack tonight. (writers note: Her new BF)

Jax: Hey Babe, I'm out of town, remember? Maybe next week?

I emailed Brian and Sara to see if they'd be around.

Hey, sorry, we can't make it tonight.

I asked Lainie what she was doing. She already had dinner plans.

I was so desperate that I even asked Joe what he was doing. He had a date.

I contemplated going to the gym. Renting a movie. Going to a movie alone. Watching Pepper Dennis. Then I remembered it got cancelled.

I have no life. No wonder I am a workaholic.

The Worst Day Ever?

2006-06-20T13:26:00.000-07:00

A truck has run over my head. A big truck. That is the amount if sinus pressure I have in my head right now. And yes, of course I am at work. Ross was in a bad mood, he had already yelled at me six times, and everyone else seemed to be cranky. Joe is out this morning, although since the big fight we've been getting along pretty well. In fact, I've been liking him the most in the office lately.
Ross banged out of his office, yelling about the barbecue event that was coming up, and I jumped.
"Where is the permit?" He shouted. "I don't care if you have to go downtown and get it in person, I NEED that permit!"
"I know, Ross, I-"
"Get on it!"
He stormed back into his office. Okay, make that seven times.
I slumped down in my chair.
"WHERE IS THAT LETTER?"
I banged my head against the desk. Could this day get worse? A quick glance in the mirror as I went to get more tissues indicated that yes, it could get worse. A big, ginormous cold sore had materialized on my lip.
"Fabulous!" I stalked to my desk and opened up my emails. Nothing from Daniel. Daniel the douchebag who had flown off to Seattle to "chill with his cousin" for the whole freaking summer and he hadn't called, texted, or written. Or said goodbye. What-freaking-ever!
"Bad day?" Joe asked.
"Bad day?" I parroted.
"You have a lot of those," he commented.
"I used to have mostly good days."
"Really."
"Yes!"
Joe folded his arms. "I find that interesting."
"Shut up!"
"Really, think about it."
"Thank you Therapist Joe." I shoved him away from my desk.
Damn. Was I really harboring in my matryrdom? How to fix this?
Of course! A drink!
Okay, not a real drink. A vitamin C power boost drink. Because I believe all that advertising. Seriously.
The day wore on. And it got worse. I think I fell asleep at my desk for a few minutes (translation=10). I spent fifteen minutes between sneezing and coughing explaining to the police officer that the amplifiers would be turned off by 9, and guaranteeing that yes, the event would end by 9:30...a box of tissues later I was stuffing envelopes for a client dinner. Thank you notes. 93 of them. I was seriously not going to make it. I ignored calls from everyone as I slugged through my work. I really had to focus--I was leaving for the Heart to Hart Foundation retreat in two days--I was running it, but not through Moxie, it was volunteer. But I had to finish all my work. And not be sick. By the time 6:00 rolled around, I was toast. All I wanted was a cold beer, a pizza, and Pepper Dennis. (Yes, I watch Pepper Dennis. It's not funny and it's corny but for some reason, I just can't stop watching. Pathetic, I know, but you know I have nothing else to do) I dragged myself to the subway through the city summer heat with 4 million other commuters, squashed onto the train and...there was no air-conditioning.
Hell. I was in hell. And I just remembered that I didn't even have any beer. Apparantly the day could get worse. Well, not worse. At least when I got off the train in my cold sore, frizzy hair and glasses state I would not have to see Douchebag Daniel!
Hmmm. The day could be salvaged. Crystal light, a bagel, Pepper Dennis and...Nyquil?

2006-05-22T08:09:00.000-07:00

After a fun weekend of chilling and not doing laundry or cleaning, I dragged myself to work Monday morning. So not in the mood. I had not been to the gym in almost two weeks, I hadn't had any caffeine yet, and I had been up late reliving my childhood watching Sixteen Candles. Ross was busy in his office when I came in, so I sat at my desk and reviewed my schedule. Should be a light day, thankfully, because I had to shlep out to the Bronx to attend a fundraiser of a client--I was not in charge of the event but it was for the Huffington Juvenile Diabetes Foundation, and my good friends Steve and Hope were on the board and were going to be there, so I had agreed to represent Moxie at the bash. I was SO not in the mood. I really would not have gone, but I LOVED Steven and Hope.

What was I doing today? I needed to do a lot of data entry. I needed caffeine. I had some flat diet coke in my cabinet, I started with that. It was not good. I glanced at the clock. 11 am. I still had HOURS to go.

Peace Treaty

2006-05-19T07:40:00.000-07:00

Joe breezed into the office the following day, leaned over my desk, commented on my latest desktop picture change and grinned at me. I shot him a dirty look, muttered something under my breath (okay, not so under my breath) and he backed off into his office. A few minutes later he passed me to drop something off on Lainie's desk, and he paused. "I'm not sure why you're giving me such attitude," he said. "But I really don't have time to deal with it."
"Fine."
Visibly annoyed, he walked away, then came back. I focused very hard on the article I was reading about American Idol.
"Don't give me attitude because you're annoyed that I sent you-"
"Not right now." I desperately kept my eyes glued to the screen.
"Look, let's go outside for a minute."
"No."
Frustrated, Joe went back to his office. A minute later my phone rang.
"What?"
"I'd like to resolve this."
I sighed. I don't do confrontation. Hence my attitude towards him. That's my passive-aggressive way of telling him I was mad.
"I asked you to do something. It took a really long time and I thought that it was simple and I managed to do it in five seconds. That email was pure professional criticism and has nothing to do with us being friends."
"It was obnoxious." I said. "I always appreciate constructive criticsm, especially from you. but there's a way of saying something, and that email was a clear 'I am superior and clearly more capable'. And that really hurt me. I'm not your secretary. I don't mind taking orders from you for a project but you can't be all degrading about it."
"I apologize."
"Thanks. Me too."
"Great. So we're cool."
"We're cool." I conceded. We hung up.
"So no more Evil Spawn Alex Karev?" Lainie asked.
"Not today." I replied. We laughed and I refocused on American Idol.

Further Death to Joe!

2006-05-18T14:59:00.000-07:00

The day dragged on. I made several attempts to locate the Marina Restoration chairs, but of course no one answered their phones or responded to my emails. I finished the mailing. I did the ad. Things were starting to move along, and I was hopeful that I would make it home in time for Will and Grace. And then...an email from Joe:

I spoke with Rick at the Marina Restoration Project in my first attempt to reach themtoday and have arranged for them to meet with me and discuss their ideas and their event designer choices.

Please send me the final version of last month's prospectus. There is no longer a need for you to involve yourself in contacting MRP. Please concentrate your efforts on collecting all the relevant information so we can get moving on this once I have identified a designer.

I shrieked in anger and annoyance, forwarded the email to Lainie and Daniel, took a deep breath...and I was still angry. Lainie looked over at me uncertainly.
"Wow." She said.
"Two words." I shook my head. "Bite me."
"I hear you."
"Am I overreacting here? How much more obnoxious can he be?" I flopped back in my chair. Joe was waaay up on his high horse. All my respect for him had fled, leaving only anger and frustration. I felt like he had betrayed my trust by pretending to be a decent human being and really he was a jerk underneath all along. "I don't need this David Taylor Holier Than thou Better Than Everyone Else Syndrome from anyone else. Thanks, though."
"Let me guess," Ross leaned againt my desk. "Joe's email?"
(Because of course he had cc'd everyone)
"You're rational and calm." I said "Do YOU think this is ridiculously obnoxious?"
"It could have been more obnoxious," Ross pointed out.
I gave him a LOOK. It was late, I was tired, and I had missed walking around in the beautiful seventy degree weather. A slight turn of my head indicated that not only had I missed it, it was now pouring. All in all, a great day.

ARGH! Death to Joe!

2006-05-18T11:01:00.000-07:00

I was exhausted. I had a mailing for a huge client and I had slogging through the tedium all day. Ross was mercifully elsewhere, but I was stressed. I had to finish the mailing by 2, do follow up from an event the previous week, and create an ad for a client by 5, and in between that I had deadlines on the Marina Restoration Project. Deadlines that were ridiculous and imposed by Joe, who was getting increasingly superior and irritating with every day that went by. I never should have gone to him for advice. Ever.

I finished the mailing and sent an email to the office, reminding them that I would be leaving "early" tomorrow (if early is 6:00 pm). I immediately got a response from Joe:

Make sure we have an appointment with Marina Restoration Chairs before you leave. I'm not sure why this hasn't happened yet. If you have been emailing
them, then please copy me on ALL emails so that I have some idea of the progress. It should not be taking 3 weeks to make an appointment.

Um, who the hell died and made you my boss? I report to Ross. I reported to the executive director, and to my clients. Not Joe. I was fuming. Um, did I not have any other fecking work to do? I had just finished an event. Mailing. Ad. LIFE.

"What?' Lainie looked up from her desk.
"What?" I responded.
"I can feel the anger radiating off you." Lainie stood up and came over. "What happened?"
I pointed to the email. "Seriously. Do you think I am overreacting?"
Lainie scanned the email. "What a jerk!"
"Douchebag." I added.
"Arrogant prick."
"Evil Spawn."
"Evil Spawn." Lainie agreed.

2006-05-09T09:38:00.000-07:00

It was Ross. "My office." He barked. "Now."
I groaned, took a big gulp of cold coffee, and slumped into his office.
"Have a seat." Ross said pleasantly. I sat.
"So."
"Yes, sir."
"It's time for your annual review." He didn't even look up. "You happy here?"
"Um..yeah, I guess."
"Good.We're glad to have you. Get back to work."
"Um..okay." I walked back to my desk. What? I asked myself.
"Hey." Joe leaned on the side of my desk. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I mumbled. "Go away."
"Okay...but first can you pull the Marina Restoration Project for me? I need some numbers."
I glared at him. "Get it yourself."
"Yikes! Who switched your coffee to decaf? What is it? You can tell me. Bad date? No date?"
My glare iced up a notch. Joe got the message. "Fine. Come find me later, we'll talk."
"Yippee." I yanked on my headset as my phone rang again.
"Rough day?"
It was Daniel the Douchebag. He didn't know he was a douchebag and he probably didn''t man to be. But he couldn't help it. Because he was my friend. And that was not good enough for me.
"Not particularly." Don't flirt, I instructed myself. Don't laugh.
"Someone switch your coffee to decaf?"
I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. "Something like that. I'm also still hungover."
"Yeah, you probably have a few more days of that to go," Daniel said. "I have never seen anyone go at a bottle of tequila like that before."
"Please don't remind me."
"Ahem." Lainie was standing over me. "Uh-uh." She wagged her finger at me.
"Oooh, Daniel, I gotta go. Talk to you later." I hung up. "What?"
"I thought you wanted to get over him!" Lainie scolded me. "Stop talking to him!"
I pulled off my headset, marched into Joe's office, and slammed the door. "What is wrong with you freaking people?"
I flopped down in a chair. Joe looked up at me. "Guy issues?"
"Shut up, okay? I just don't get it! Is he that dumb that he does not know how I feel about him? Is he ignoring it? Do you think he might like me?"
"Relax, okay?" Joe leaned back in his chair. "You have to TALK TO HIM."
"No way."
"You're so non-confrontational, it's so annoying!" Joe said. "Like with Ross. Did you want to say anything to him about your raise, your hours? Did you?"
"Don't mix up the issues."
"They're the same issue!" Joe argued. "Speak up for yourself. Talk to this guy and tell him how you feel. And talk to Ross. Because no one is going to do it for you."
Grumbling, I stood up. "Thanks."
"Marina Restoration?"
"Yeah. Five minutes." I went back to my desk, pulled the files for Joe, and then continued to stare into space. I was so FRUSTRATED. I want to feel like I'm important. I want to feel like I matter. And I want a freaking boyfriend.
"Hey, um.." Lainie turned from her terminal and glanced uncertainly at me ."Have you...have you spoken to David lately?"
"Yeah, he came by my apartment, said he wanted to talk later, borrowed some eggs, and left."
"Oh."
"Why?"
"Just curious." Lainie gave me a strange smile. My phone rang again and I tried to muster up some cheer. "Moxie."
"Babe." It was Jax. "Have you heard about David?"
"What?"
"David and Allie got engaged last night."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"David...and Allie."
"I'm sorry, Jax, I thought you said David and Allie."
Jax was silent.
"Evil Spawn didn't even call me!"
"Well, he is the evil spawn."
"He's worse than Alex Karev."
"Look, you should call him."
"No."
I hung up the phone and buried my face in my hands. Could this day get worse?

Drunken, Hazy Memories

2006-03-21T10:13:00.000-08:00

So you're probably wondering what that was about...if only I could remember, I would tell you.

It started off like this--Eliana and I decided to throw a party with our favorite neighbors, "The Frat Boys." And me being a little Martha Stewart wannabe,I went a little crazy with the cooking and preparation. I think we started drinking around three. It gets kind of fuzzy after that, but I vaguely remember tequila shots, some wine, a few margaritas, some punch, some champagne, more margaritas, more tequila, some vodka, swigging tequila from the bottle, swigging vodka from the bottle, drinking punch out of the ladle from the punchbowl, finishing the tequila from the bottle, dancing on the window seat while belting out "Can't Fight the Moonlight..." apparently there were more, many more antics and stories of what I did, but I think Eliana and Trace are trying to spare me the embarrassment of actually knowing. I passed out in my room and when I woke up everyone was gone and Eliana had cleaned my whole apartment. I love that girl.

I was scrolling through the pictures from the party, nursing Day 2 of my hangover (yes, they last that long!), at my desk when the phone rang...

2006-03-15T12:23:00.000-08:00

I am never drinking again

The Event

2006-03-07T10:22:00.001-08:00

"Hey, Tig, I need the lighting adjusted." I said into my radio. "Rene, there are still six centerpieces missing from tables 24-30!"
"I'm on it." Rene, the catering manager, was always calm. Sometimes she annoyed me.
I had enlisted Eliana to help me tonight, and I flagged her down as she passed by, carrying an armload of brochures. "I need a drink."
Eliana shook her head. "Wait until the dinner is underway."
"Drink!" I called after her. I took a deep breath, put a finger to my twitching eye, and made my way to the entry to greet Heather Carrington. "Good evening, Mrs. Carrington."
"Good evening, darling girl, the place looks beautiful!" Heather trilled, snagging a flute of champagne off a passing tray.
"May I show you to your seat, Mrs. Carrington?" Holden asked, taking her arm and winking at me. I smile back and sagged against the wall. My feet were killing me already.
"Hey!' Ross barked, coming around the corner. "There are people at the door. Where's the registration?"
"There are invitation checkers standing by, Ross." I said, trying to control my temper that was threatening to spiral out of control. "Just let me know and I'll give them the high sign."
"Now." He said abruptly.
"Monica, cue the band. Eliana, prepare checkers. Rene, you ready?"
"Ready."
"Doors open."
I grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiters. "Keep it coming," I whispered.
I made my rounds about the room, checking on things as hors d'ouvres and champagne were passed. The ballroom was ready, glittering with crystals and candles illuminating centerpieces I wanted to freeze somehow until I got married. It was spectacular. The CFJJ multimedia presentation, which Monica and I had spent literally hundreds of hours on, was in the control room above the room, ready to invoke plenty of emotions that would ensure millions of dollars raised, to go to after-school programs, art and music therapy for children with incarcerated parents, and more. People were milling about all around me, talking and laughing and exclaiming over the exhibits that kids had made and I had painstakingly displayed all over the room.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
I almost choked on my champagne as I turned around to see Simon Turner, the representative from the National Criminal Justice Reference Service. "Yes?"
"Monica Hadley sent me over to speak to you, she said you were the event planner for the evening."
"Yes, sir."
"From Moxie?"
"Yes."
"It looks great in here." Simon said. "The exhibit was a nice touch. Was that your idea or Heather's?"
"It was a collaborative effort."
"Well done." He clinked his champagne glass with mine and left. I almost passed out.
Three and half hours later, everyone had danced, eaten, drank, and written what I hoped were generous donations. The multimedia presentation had been perfect, there wasn't a dry eye in the house when the lights went on. I had only one complaint about seating, only 7 people showed up without reservations, and I had six glasses of champagne--and two mushroom puffs. I was bordering on tipsy--but not as tipsy as Heather Carrington, who was so drunk that Holden was practically carrying her to her car.
"Darling girl, you did magnificent!" She slurred. "We raised almost 13 million dollars tonight."
"New record." Holden added, passing Heather over to her driver. "Great job."
"Thanks, you too!" My head was spinning, and I don't think it was just from the champagne.
Ross was waiting for his car with Joe.
"A perfect evening." He said with a smile. "Really."
"Really?"
"Really." He confirmed.
I looked at Eliana. She grinned. "Party time?"
"Even better," I replied. "Nap time."

2006-03-02T16:59:00.000-08:00

I have been sleeping in my office. Well, not overnight, but yesterday I could not figure out what was on my face until I realized it was my keyboard--and that I was sleeping on it. The CFJJ dinner was overtaking my life. We sent out maybe 3000 invitations, and they usually get 500 or 600 people. The ballroom can hold 2500 people, and we were rapidly approaching 2475. Between Holden and Monica, my contacts at the CFJJ, the caterers, Ross, my other projects, David, and some...other drama (more on that later), my head was spinning. All four of my phone lines were buzzing non-stop, I was drinking 5 cups of coffee a day, not eating chocolate, and did I mention there was drama?
"Reservations," I chirped into the phone for the hundredth time today.
"Hey."
"Eddie?"
"Yo, big sis, what's up?"
"I can't believe you're calling me!" I looked furtively around the room for Ross and then ducked my head. Eddie was one of my favorite little brothers" that I had worked with in my previous job. He was studying abroad for the year and I missed him.
"Sean told me you were crazy busy so I thought I would interrupt you."
"Thanks!" I took a sip of my now cold coffee. "How are you?"
"A little drunk," he admitted. "But not too drunk, don't worry. It was my roommate's birthday."
"Ah." I said. "So you had to go out and get wasted."
"Like you never do the same thing!" Eddie retorted. "I saw those birthday party pictures!"
"Um, hello. I would be legally allowed to drink."
"Everything's legal here!" He laughed. "Anyways, I have to go. Just wanted to say hey."
"Thanks, Eddie!"
"Love ya!"
The phone went dead and I smiled. Great kid. (AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ed, I miss you!)
"Hey!" Ross burst into the office. "Walden made a $20,000 donation to CFJJ and we need to seat him with the Carringtons."
"Oh no no..." I jumped out of my seat, only to get strangled by my headset. "Dammit! Ross, that's impossible! We've already done the tables!"
"Well, you'll have to redo them." Ross walked out of the office. I slumped back into my seat, just as Joe sauntered by my desk.
"Hey."
"WHAT?"
"Geez, you're pissy." Joe leaned against my desk. "Hey, did you look up that seminar info for me?"
"Hey, did you lose all use of your limbs in an accident and somehow can't manage to use the internet yourself?" I snapped. "Hello, CFJJ dinner. Ring a bell?"
"Oh, is that this weekend?" He asked innocently. "My bad."
"You have three seconds to back off really, really quickly."
"Children, please." Lainie, my coworker, waved her arms in the air. "Joe, leave her alone. Babe, here, have a cup of coffee." I took the steaming cup from her, glared at Joe, and turned back to the ballroom diagram.
"Here." Joe proffered three Splendas. "Need help?"
"I would like to stay mad at you."
"Well, you just can't, can you?" He grinned and walked away.
I groaned and picked up the ringing phone.
"Reservations."
"I am so glad you're there, darling," Heather Carrington trilled. My heart sank. "Darling, Harry Tremont just told me that he's coming!Isn't that just fabulous! So I'm going to want to put him at my table."
"Mrs. Carrington, I already have a full table for you," I reminded her. "I redid it twice."
Heather laughed. "That's okay, darling, you can move Freddy Carmichael."
"Mr. Carmichael is your co-chair." I said patiently.
"Well, I'm sure you'll work it out." Heather hung up and I buried my face in my hands.
Hey!" Ross came back in. "I have three more gold donors. Find a place for them."
"No!" I cried. "Look, Ross, I can't! We have no more room! We are overbooked! I don't care who is giving a million dollars to the CFJJ! We are done!" I threw my coffee in the trash and walked out of the office.

Reunion

2006-02-07T14:13:00.000-08:00

High School. Did anyone actually like it? I was pondering this as I sipped my second glass of champagne and surveyed the crowd at Shelby's wedding. Shelby and I had not remained that close since high school, but we had a lot of post-high school friends in common. I was looking around, desperately lowering my head or turning around when high school "friends" walked by. I had already said "Oh my god how ARE you" about sixteen times. upon lifting my head my eyes locked with...no, not the love of my life. With David. I turned my head quickly. "Hey, Sara." I snagged her arm. "Where's your husband?"
She rolled her eyes. "Getting ready to pull some prank on the groom. Hey, David."
I turned.
"Hey." David grinned. "You having fun?"
"Yeah." I tried to smile.
"How was your weekend?"
"Nice, yours?"
"Really fun."
Sara's eyes went back and forth between us.
"You both look nice." David continued.
"You too. Nice tie." I plucked another flute of champagne off a passing server.
"Oh, there's Brian." Sara threw me an apologetic smile and ran off.
"It's nice to see you, David." I said quietly.
"Yeah, we haven't spoken in what, two months?"
"Three."
"So you're still mad at me."
"This is not the place." I downed my champagne and walked away.
I rejoined Sara who was standing with Brian, watching us.
"You okay?"
"Fabulous."
We took our seats for the ceremony. I couldn't focus, I was too wrapped up in my hurt and frustration. He was so stupid!
After the ceremony ended (which was beautiful when I caught it), I made my way to my table. David stood up and grinned as I approached. "Now is as good a time as any," he said, pulling out my chair for me.
"Look," I said. "I really appreciate that you want to talk things out. Really, I do. Aside from the fact that you are three months too late for this conversation, we are at a wedding, and I am completely incapable of having this conversation without getting emotional. Okay?"
"So what do you want me to do?" David asked. "I'm really sorry, and I want us to be friends again. I don't want to do this awkward avoiding thing."
He paused while our salads were served. "Let's just skip the whole conversation and just get to the point. I'm sorry."
I laughed. "Do you even know why you're sorry?" I poured myself a large glass of wine. "I don't need this." I stood up and walked over to Sara and Brian's table, where I stayed for the rest of the wedding.

Job Description

2006-01-17T11:30:00.000-08:00

A lot of you are probably wondering what happened with David. I bring this up because Jax saw him in midtown yesterday. There has been a Devil Spawn sighting! It's funny because I have not seen him in FOREVER, but I realized this morning that we are both going to a wedding in a few weeks, and that should be very interesting. Anyway, like I said previously--David and I used to be really close.We were never best friends but I always felt like I could count on him. So then when I couldn't, it was like the ultimate betrayal.
"Ahem."
I jumped out of my chair. Ross stood behind me, arms folded.
"Yes?" I asked innocently.
"You seem to be lost in thought. Thinking about your meeting with Holden and Monica later, I assume?"
"Um, yes." I pointed to my notes on the CJFF dinner. "I spoke to Holden earlier and confirmed. They'll be here at three."
"Great." Ross wandered off, replaced by Joe, the associate as-associate director. He stood reading over my shoulder for a minute.
"Looks good."
"Thanks."
"You going out anytime soon?"
"Out?"
"Coffee?"
I was dying for a cup. "You want?"
"You're the best!" Joe gave me a disarming grin and wandered off. I sigh with slight irritation and got up.
"Anyone want anything?" I called to the open-plan office. Heads picked up everywhere.
"Diet Coke!"
"M and Ms!"
"Dr. Pepper!"
"Coffee!"
I sighed again, grabbed my purse, and headed out. I have the doorman a vicious glare. "I am NOT a secretary," I hissed.
"I know." He grinned. "Can you get me a cup of coffee?"
ARGH.

2006-01-16T07:26:00.000-08:00

As every Imelda knows, when you buy fabulous shoes you need to store them in a fabulous way. Especially if you cannot pay your ConEd bill, you might as well blow the rest of your paycheck and wait until you get the finasl shut-off notice. So that's how I found myself at The Container Store. For us people who like to pretend to be organized, the Container Store is our mecca. Containers for hangers, sweaters, sheets, toilet paper, containers. It's amazing. I wandered the aisles, marveling at how organized I could really be if I had thousands of dollars, and stood infront of the boxes made especially for shoes. I bought one box for my boots and another for my newest acquisition, and then meandered over to the closet organizers, just for fun. Not far from there, a small group of women sat in a circle of chairs.
"Sometimes I just need to be free from the clutter, " one woman said earnestly. Several others nodded. Was this some kind of Get Organized seminar? I inched closer.
"I don't know how to stop," a pert brunette said. "I just come home every day with new ways to organize the mail, organize the counters, organize the cabinets. I keep trying to simplify my life but instead it just gets more complicated!"
"Ladies," a woman interjected. I assumed she was the group leader. "That's just it. it's all about simplifying. And you CAN have a simpler, easier life, but you need to stop the addiction."
I took a step back and turned to a nearby salesperson who was stacking soap organizers. "Excuse me, but what is that group meeting over there?"
"Oh, that's our support group for compulsive organizers," she replied. "They meet once a week."
"Thanks." I turned my attention back to the meeting. One woman was now crying, holding a drawer organizer.
"I just can't not use it, " she sobbed.
I hurried to checkout, trying not to laugh. I know what you're thinking, so am I--WHAT?!

*based on a true story. Thanks, Laura!

2006-01-09T09:34:00.000-08:00

The week dragged by. Ourquiet season started at work, which was both good and bad. I'm an events associate at Moxie Events and PR. Associate means I get paid less. With the holiday season over, we could all breathe a little. I left work at 5:30 two days in a row! I had done good work on the Wentworth Securities Holiday Party, and I had already blown my bonus on a pair of beautiful purple seude stilettos. I was drinking my third cup of coffee of the day and chatting with my friend Emily on the phone when I heard my boss heading down the hallway. "Gotta go," I whispered and quickly hung up.
"What's going on?" He asked.
"I'm waiting for confirmation on the flowers for the Ellington party." I said. "They said they would fax it in today. I called Sarah Marshall from the Ninth Avenue Restoration Project, they're going to send us their invite list no later than noon tomorrow."
He nodded and walked off. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hey!" He barked, coming back down the hallway. "I just heard from Sandy. We got the CFJJ Dinner. I'm putting you on it. Don't screw up."
He turned again and walked away. I jumped up to follow him. "Hey, Ross, wait, um...what?"
"Call Sandy and get the details. I want your outline by Monday."
"Um...Ross, wait, I-"
The door slammed in my face. The Carrington Foundation for Juvenile Justice was a huge coup for Moxie. And a huge project. Was he serious?
"So we aren't going to see you until the end of March?" Eliana asked later that night. I was flopped facedown on my bed,listening to Project Runway from the TV. I shifted the phone to my other ear. "Pretty much. It's our biggest dinner of the year."
"At least it's a cause you believe in," she commented. "Remember when you had to do registration for the Catholic Women's League of New York?"
We both laughed. "It is a good cause." I agreed. "I'm just going to be crazy busy. "
"Wha else is new?" Eliana replied. "I'm going to bed."
I groaned. "I am so tired!"
"Go to bed."
"I can't." I rolled over to look at the TV. "I need to find out who gets cut."
"Babe!" A voice called from the living room as a door slammed.
"Jax is here." I said. "I'll talk you later." I hung up as Jax burst into the room.
"GUESS who I saw in the lobby!"
"Who did you see in the lobby?"
"David!" She flopped down on my bed. "I made sure to mention you were home."
"Funny," I said. "He hasn't come by."
"You could always call him."
"I could also stab myself with my new shoes." I gestured towards the box on my desk, changing the subject. "Wentworth Securities."
"Niiiiice." Jax stroked the shoe. "What are you going to wear them with?"
I shrugged. "Black suit? I don't know, they were too pretty to pass up."
Jax pulled off her shoes and slipped on the stilettos. "Whoa, these are high!"
"Three inches."
"How are you going to walk in them?"
"Does it matter? They're Via Spiga and they were half off!"
Okay, so they were outrageous, even half-off it was more than I would normally spend on shoes. And they were purple. Kind of impractical. But who cares? I needed some happy shoes. And I got them.

2005-12-29T09:47:00.000-08:00

"I'm not going in." I shrugged helplessly. "I do not want to see him."
"Are you kidding?" Eliana turned to face me. "You're going to let that thing decide if and when you can have sushi? Stand up for yourself!"
I shook my head. "You guys go ahead. Really. I'm nt even hungry."
"Babe." Eliana said firmly. "Stand up straight, march in there, and take a seat. And if he thinks that he can act like nothing is wrong, well, you'lljust set him straight."
I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and followed my friends inside. Our table was not far from David's, and his back was to us. I breathed a sigh of relief, and suddenly ravenous, I ordered 4 rolls of sushi.
Conversation was giggly and light around me as I alternated between watching my friends and staring at the back of David's head. You're probably wondering what happened. Like I said before, we were always just friends, and neither party wanted to change that, we never dated, etc. But-
"Hey." David had gotten up and was now pausing beside me. "How ya been?"
"If you really wanted to know, you should have called me." I said icily. David looked surprised, then looked at Jax. She shook her head at him. David leaned closer to me, "I know you're upset with me--we should talk."
"I am no longer willing to talk." I tried to keep my voice steady.
"I'll call you later." David turned to catch up with his friends. Tracey slung an arm around my shoulder. "That was great!" she whispered.
Deflated and depressed, I flagged the waiter down. I needed some chocolate cake. I had earned it.

The Sighting

2005-12-28T15:52:00.000-08:00

We spent the rest of the morning in my room, schmoozing and shrieking about the party. Tracey had spent most of the night hitting on a guy while another guy hit on her. Eliana could remember less than me. Jax happily filled us all in on our humiliating experiences. Eventually, we got up and got dressed to venture out for lunch.
"I want pizza."
"I want sushi."
"I want a burger."
They all looked expectantly at me.
"Sushi." I said. "A burger, Trace, are you insane?"
She shrugged. "I'm starving."
All my friends are twigs and eat like cows. I just look like a cow. We bundled into our coats and went outside. The air was crisp and biting.
"Ah." Eliana took a deep breath. "Much better."
"Fresh air is good for hangovers."
We walked in silence as I surveyed my friends. There was Jax, your classic sassy redhead. Jaqueline Faye Goldberg, to be exact. Eliana Schwartz, who I think was a rebellious rocker in a former life, and Tracey, with her blonde curls and twinkling blue eyes. We were an interesting group, I mused.
"Hot neighbor at 6:00," Tracey murmured. We all swiveled our heads in unison. Adam, my downstairs neighbor, gave us a wave and grin. We all waved back.
"Is he still seeing the Brooklyn chick?" Eliana asked.
I shook my head. "Staten Island. Curly hair, wears denim skirts, chews gum really loud."
"Ew."Tracey wrinkled her nose. "He could do so much better." We all nodded in agreement--Tracey was hopelessly in love with Adam.
None of us were currently seeing anyone--between the four of us, we had had 4 dates in the last 4 months. 3 for Jax, 1 for Eliana. Tracey was happily rejoicing in singlehood, I was bitterly annoying everyone else. Well, not all the time. I had been pretty good this weekend. Then again, I had been drunk. I am not a depressed drunk--some people get all morose and contemplative. Not me. I get hyper and happy and loud. Well, louder. I am always loud.
"What are you thinking about?" Jax asked as we got on the subway.
"Last night was fun, right?"
"Yeah!" Jax pulled her camera out of her bag. "Want to see how fun?"
"Not yet." I laughed. "I need sustenance first."
"It's really not as bad as you think," she reassured me. "I was just teasing."
"I called David."
"Yeah but you didn't talk to him," Eliana pointed out. "It's not like you left him a rambling message about how you still loved him or anything."
"You didn't!"
Eliana ducked her head. "I might have?"
"Eliana!" I scolded her. "You didn't!"
She held out her phone. "4 minutes and 12 seconds."
"Oh, babe."
We all sat in silence. Eliana and Ben had broken up two months ago after dating for 6 months. They had a big fight and a mutual parting, although no one can remember what the fight was about or why they had broken up, but neither side would give in. Eliana had gone on one random date since the break-up, but has declared the guy "so unlike Ben." She was hopeless.
"Eliana, "I said gently. "Why don't you just talk to him?'
Eliana shook her head and turned her head. She was a tough cookie, but I could see her eyes glistening.
We got off the train and headed to the only kosher sushi place in Manhattan worthy of patronage. Tracey opened the door, stopped, and turned around. "Um, are you sure you want sushi?"
"Yes."Eliana and I both said.
"Let's go to the Sushi Garden instead." She suggested.
"Ew!" Jax cried. "If we are going to eat sushi, we're having it here!"
"We are not going in there." Tracey said firmly.
"Who's in there?" I craned my neck to see past her. And there he was. David.

Continued

2005-12-28T09:56:00.000-08:00

I stared at my friends in horror. "Are you kidding?"
They shrugged. "Hey, where's Eliana?" Tracey asked. "Didn't she stay over last night?"
"I don't remember," I said, shooting her a dirty look as I climbed out of bed. I stumbled into the bathroom and shrieked as my foot came in contact with...Eliana.
"Ssshhh."Eliana opened one eye. "I'm sleeping."
"Babe, it's morning."I said patiently.
Tracey and Jax came up behind me, laughing. "Man, Lana, what happened?"
"The bed was just so far." Eliana reached up. "Help."
I gently pulled her to her feet and sent everyone out of the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and shrieked again. My long, dark hair was knotted into a ball on one side of my face, the green, glittery eyeshadow I had painstakingly applied the night before had run into eyeliner and mascara, making me look like I had 2 black eyes.
"What's wrong?" Tracey called.
"Nothing!" I quickly locked the door. I performed my bathroom activities and turned the shower on as hot as I could stand it, then gingerly stepped in. "Ah." The water felt amazing. I leaned against the wall as steam billowed around me. The previous night slowly came back to me. The room had looked great, the food set out...people had started arriving. When had I called David? David, by the way, is NOT my ex, nor is he the object of my affection. David and I used to be friends. Just really good friends. And then-
"Babe, hurry up in there!" Jax pounded on the door. "Bladder!"
I sighed and reached for the remote of my bathroom stereo and turned on Natasha Bedingfield. I heard Jax move away from the door. "She's cranky." She muttered.
Damn right I was cranky! I could barely remember what had happened the night before, and I hadn't had that much to drink! I made the water hotter. Leo had come with his new girlfriend, Chavi and her roomates, Emily and John...
"JAX!" I yelled.
"What?"
"Did we do Coyote Ugly with Emily and Monica?"
Jax didn't answer. I turned off the water, wrapped myself in a towel, and stormed out of the bathroom.
"Can't fight the moonlight..."Tracey sang, and they all exploded into giggles. I climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over my head.
"No one talk to me for the next 20 minutes." I ordered. "Or the pictures I have will go up on the internet."

Chapter One: The Party

2005-12-27T11:22:00.000-08:00

I'm dying. That's the only explanation for the intense pain that is pressing on my head. My mouth is dry. I can't open my eyes. I take a deep breath, and push my eyelids open, only to quickly close them against the light in the room. "Ugh." I rolled over and surveyed the room. My friend Tracey was asleep on the floor, still fully dressed. Jax was next to her, her red hair a stark contrast to her pale skin. For a moment, I was confused. Then it all came flooding back. Well, not all of it. The party I remembered. The tequila I remembered. There was not much else that I remember. "Ugh." I said again. Jax shifted and squinted up at me. "Time izzit?" I groped for my glasses to read the clock.
"Ten."
Jax groaned and covered her head with the blanket. I sighed and did the same, but I couldn't sleep. Why couldn't I remember the party? I had a vague recollection of my friend's voice...
"Oh no."
Jax opened her eyes and stared at me.
"Oh no."I repeated. I sat up in horror. "Oh no!" I grabbed my cell phone. "Please no, please no.." I prayed as I scrolled through my outgoing calls. Now Tracey was half-awake. "What's wrong?"
"Tell me I didn't call him!"
Jax reached out for the phone, pressed a few buttons, and grinned. "Yup. David."
"Oh no!" I flopped back down on the bed.
"Relax, it was 3 seconds." Jax tossed the phone on my bed. "You probably just hung up."
"What else happened that I don't remember?"
Tracey and Jax exchanged glances. Wicked glances.
"You really don't remember?" Tracey asked.
I shook my head. Jax's face was gleeful. "Lucky I took pictures."

Reader's Choice!

2005-12-22T07:04:00.000-08:00

Character names? Plot ideas? Comment here and tell me what you want!

Introduction

2005-12-22T06:47:00.000-08:00

I have decided to write a little soap opera/chick-lit tale to entertain myself and the rest of my readers. Check back for my first installment! Feel free to comment on characters, plots, etc.