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I had my preliminary consult today at my oral surgeon's... All four wisdom teeth are coming out on February 9. Weeeeeeee. The top two are impacted. That's nice. The guy said I have exceptionally good teeth, especially for someone who hasn't had braces.

But the better part of today was my brother getting his teeth pulled (he's got lots of issues with braces and whatever, apparantly his mouth is too too small). And he comes out of the OR with this goofy grin on his face and starts giggling. He was higher than high, and it was spectacular! My brother is funny and awesome when he's high.

I could have danced all night...

I guess this is my music geek coming out in me, in the fact that I somehow relate everything in my life to some song or other, but I have never related to Eliza Doolittle singing, "Bed! Bed! I couldn't go to bed!" in My Fair Lady more than tonight. Ok, that's totally a lie, I've had plenty more exciting nights than this, but this one has definitely made the list.

Tonight was my boss's party at her fabulous Upper East Side brownstone. Got there around eight thirty (fashionably late..? sure, whatever), and started drinking expensive brand name chapmagne right away. From the guest list I glanced over the other day in the office, I know that at least eighty percent of the over one hundred guests are rich, famous, powerful, important, or a combination of the four. The other twenty percent were family and friends... and me. But no problem, one of her friends had a son my age who is a music theater major upstate, and we spent the night talking, for the most part. My boss had her chef from the French Culinary Institute cater, and the menu was superb. It was all passed hors d'ouerves, such as salmon en croute, Thai shrimp, smoked salmon and creme fraiche in filo dough, mushroom soup (in tiny espresso cups), buffalo mozarella and tomato skewers, quail egg and tomato skewers, and plenty of other little things that were similar. And of course, I can't forget the passed desserts that started around ten thirty. Shot glasses of the most delicious chocolate mousse ever, baked cinnamon apples wrapped in filo dough, chocolate-pecan ...things, I don't even know what. But it was phenomenal. Her decorator had come to the house and taken it to task, filling it with Christmas cheer in the shape of tiny glittering Christmas trees all over the house and hanging icicle lights. She had a hired disc jockey who spun, literally, records on a record player, classy jazz music mostly.

At some point, I found myself over by their (fucking wonderful amazing) Steinway grand piano, and her husband sat down and started playing. Their daughter (who loved her Ugg boots, by the way) came over and started begging me to sing. I was drunk enough to agree, so she flipped few a few music books and picked a few songs. As I was agreeing to sing, this older gentleman walked over and sat down at the piano. My boss's husband said, "Uh-oh, make way for the master!"

Phenomenal. This man was utterly phenomenal. And then I looked down at the pile of music books heaped on the table next to the piano. The one on top had a picture of the man sitting next to me at the piano. "If you believe it," my boss's husband said, "That's him twenty years ago. He's my teacher."

My boss's husband put a music book in front of the man and said, "Play, she'll sing with you." The next thing I know, I'm singing "Tonight" from West Side Story for a room of about fifty people. We finished up and everyone applauded, and the man asked me what else I knew. We sang "Summertime" and "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," then called it a night, but sat there talking for quite some time.

But the best part...

At some point, I got up to get another drink, and my boss's husband came up to me and asked, "Did you know that he played 'Summertime' with Janis Joplin in 1967?"

Christmas time in Hell.

I'm at work right now, I've got a quick fifteen before I have to go pick up my boss's daughter from her high-priced private school.

I love the South Park Christmas soundtrack.  There's a song on it sung by Satan that goes, "It's Christmas time in Hell!"  Well, now I know what Christmas in Hell is like.  I had to go buy my boss a pair of those ridiculous Ugg boots in chocolate brown for her twelve-year-old daughter who -best part- lost her black Ugg boots this week, so I had to buy brown ones on the off chance that the black ones turn up.  I'll have you know, the little girl told me yesterday that the black Uggs that she lost are her "most favorite thing in the whole world!"

So I called the shoe store closest to the office, and was told that they were sold out, so it was time to go on a hunt.  I went first to Sak's Fifth Avenue, they were sold out.  Sak's is a motherfucking madhouse, I think I punched someone (or many someones) in the face a few times.  Next, to Journey's across the street.  Sold out again.  I grabbed a cab down to Macy*s, which apparantly doesn't stock Uggs (how strange?), and then ran across the street to another Journey's, where they were also sold out.  I ran up to Lord and Taylor, and put a quick call in to my boss to give her the update.  She called another shoe store as I waited to see if the Lord and Taylor shoe department had a pair.  Nope, but the shoe store my boss found did.  So I went uptown and got the shoes (but not after being put through a ridiculous ordeal by the shoe people).  I literally was all over the city, uptown, downtown, east side, west side, all for a pair of ugly boots.

And that was just part of today.  I also had to pick up a PS2 game for her eight year old son, and three black picture frames.  I don't even feel like talking about that right now.  But I have to go.  Time to pick the brat up.

Oh, but tomorrow night my boss is having a holiday party which I will be attending (as a guest, not as an assistant).  It should be exciting.

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Sorry I've been slightly MIA lately, life got in the way.

Anyway, yours truly just got hired as the assistant to a film producer. Second assistant. This woman is like a less powerul Miranda Priestly, she needs two damn assistants. And like The Devil Wears Prada, the second assistant gets sent out into the bitter cold every twenty minutes to run errangs, like buying stamps, getting scripts photocopied, FedEx-ing packages... It's actually a good job.

Now, this woman lives on the Upper East Side and works out of her home. Her five-story brown stone that she paid about seven million for and then paid another several million to renovate. She and her husband have money beyond anything you can possibly imagine. Some of it is from her husband's family -he's an old-money trust fund baby- but he broke away from his family and made it on his own for a while before joining his father's law firm. They have two children, a girl and a boy, who are both incredibly bratty. I used to babysit for them, I know. They also have a two thousand dollar cat. A purebred Egyptian Mau... no, not one of those hairless cats, it's a beautiful stormy grey, silky little kitty. But I caught it nibbling on the plants today and I know that, no matter what the label or the price tag, it's still a cat.

Anyway, I'm now a glorified errand girl and it's pretty exiting. I'll be sure to keep you updated.


Let me be the first to say Happy Thanksgiving, the best day ever.

The weather in New York might be bad tomorrow morning, there is a possibility of a big storm, which would either make it so the balloons don't fly or cancel the parade all together. Everyone please pray! So that we all get to enjoy the 80'th Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

And in a non-Thanksgiving related thing:
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You wish you never ever met her at all...

Sorry for my random MIA-ness and not finishing the story, you'll get that some point soon. But right now I'm on a packing frenzy for Albany and the ex's formal. I'm wearing a fucking fabulous dress, a vintage knee-length ivory sheath dress, one I inherited from my aunt years ago and have only worn twice. It's possibly my favorite dress. I'll consider wearing it at my wedding. It fits. Perfectly.

So I'm off to have one more spectacular weekend and I'll be back on Sunday night. Have a great weekend everyone!
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Thursday, Friday, Saturday day.

So I'm back from one of the weirdest weekends of my life. I'll do a day-by-day breakdown I guess. If this gets to be too long, I'll have to cut it. It probably will get to be too long. This was one eventful weekend.

Thursday night Cristine slept over. We had a great time - girlfest. I got her high for the first time and we watched Mean Girls and Sex and the City while eating cookies&cream ice cream. Good times.

The next morning (Friday) she and I went to go get breakfast, and then I went home to finish packing, and she went off to work. I had to still do laundry and all that. I was lucky to be done by the time the taxi came at 1:30. We got to JFK in record time... fifteen minutes. That's how long it should take from my house but there's almost always traffic. Not then. I guess the travel gods smiled on me. I think they should have waited a few days to do so, but... well... You'll understand later.

At JFK, I checked in and there were no lines at any of the JetBlue counters. Another first. Then it took me literally three minutes to get through security... yes, would you believe it, another first. Seriously, every time I've gone through security at JFK, it's taken at least a half hour. Because there are always lines. But not today. I bought a pack of gum and headed to my gate, where I read a book and watched the cutest little girls play with their dolls.

Boarded the plane, sat in my "usual" seat. The best part about JetBlue is, you have a choice of where you can sit. I always pick the same seat, if it's available. 3B. I really can't tell you why, but I like that seat for some reason.

Anyway, the plane ride is only 45 minutes long, and it was a really smooth ride. I have some favorite moments of plane rides... I love that moment when you're going down the runway and just about to take off and then suddenly you look out the window and realize the ground is pulling away from you so rapidly it's like you took flight, and then you realize, you're in the air, you really have taken flight! Out of LaGuardia and JFK, I love to look out the window and see what I can identify. Sometimes you can see the whole of Manhattan island. This time I could pick out Rockaway and Riis Beach. It was pretty cool. My other favorite part of flying is when you're going to land. You watch the ground get closer and everything get larger and I like to guess when exactly we're going to touch down. I remember when people used to clap when you touched down... I guess no one does that anymore.

Got to the airport in Buffalo (for the record, I didn't go to SUNY Buffalo or Buff State, I went to a small school about an hour out of Buffalo). Two of my sorority sisters and one of their boyfriend's were waiting for me just outside the security checkpoint. It was so good to see them! And I hoped, a good omen for the rest of the weekend.

Drove back to campus, where I dropped my stuff off in one of their rooms and called my best friend Katie, who lives down the hall from them. She was at her boyfriend's apartment, but she came to pick me up. We drove to her boy's apartment, where his entire fraternity was hanging out playing beer pong. They'd invited a whole bunch of people over, mostly my friends, to see me. That's good friends right there.

Everyone left after a while, except for the boys that live in the apartment and my best friend. We stayed up late, discussing the politics of a Greek organization, how one ought to run, and how their fraternity should proceed in the future. They're a brand new fraternity on my old campus, with now three initiated pledge classes. I got to know them all really well at the end of last semester because I was hooking up with one of them. He's disappeared off the edge of the earth (actually, not really... he made an appearance this week), but I've maintained friendships with the majority of their fraternity. They're pretty much my brother's, Katie's boyfriend really treats me like his sister. One of his friends called me a bitch, jokingly. Mike whipped around and snapped, "There are two girls you do not disrespect in my house. One of them is my girlfriend. The other is her." Seriously, that warmed my li'l heart haha.

Anyway, Tucker, one of Mike's frat brothers, was having a fight on the phone with his girlfriend Ali, who was up in Canada for the weekend. At around three thirty in the morning he decided to start drinking, and I joined him. I always forget that I'm much smaller than most of the guys I attempt to go shot for shot with and I ended up drinking too much too fast and puking, but I was fine.

We went out and started talking about politics of Greek life, like I said. That talk lasted for hours. At five thirty we said we would go to bed soon but we just kept talking and talking, and suddenly it was six, and then six thirty, and the sky was lightening and the sun was coming up. And at seven, my cell phone rang. It was the pledge mom and she asked me if I could do them a favor, she needed me to participate in the initiation morning because one of our sisters (my old roommate, actually), had gone home without telling anyone. I agreed since, obviously, I was awake, and I went. What did we do? I obviously can't tell you that...

I'll write about the rest of Saturday and my weekend later. I have work in the morning.

Oh yeah guys! I got a job! I got hired at a very popular clothing store at a very popular shopping center in Queens. I'm very excited, I start my training at the asscrack of dawn tomorrow though. And by the asscrack of dawn, I mean nine o'clock. I hate opening. Bah.

Peace out NY... once again.

It seems like I've been spending a lot of time leaving the city lately. I guess things have just been busy. But I promise I plan on doing some real New Yorker things: Go see the Christmas tree lighting in Rockafeller Center, go to look at the windows at Macy's and the big department stores on 5th Ave, go ice skaging in Central Park, go see the holiday shows. I've never seen the Rockettes and would love to. I'd add the Thanksgiving Day Parade to this list but I promise you no parade can wake me up for nothing. Especially on my days off. Especially on Thanksgiving, which is my favorite holiday.

Other than that, I'm going to see Kristin Chenowith at the Met, which I'm really excited for. And the Metropolitan Museum of Art has a really spectacular exhibit which I plan on going to see some time soon too.

The drama with my sorority is... blah. I'm going to my old school today for my old chapter's initiation. I'm flying, JetBlue, which rules my world. I'll be gone til Monday. And I assure you, this girl is going to have a great fucking time. OK?

Last night Cristine slept over, we smoked and watched girly movies and the first season of Sex&the City. She's totally my other half, we have more in common than I can possibly begin to say. And ... She'd never smoked before and it was her first time and now I hear, "I love it!!"

Well well. That's what I like to hear. Seriously.

Ok, people, I hope your weekend is going to be great too. See you all when I get back.

Edit: Oh my gosh how did I forget? I got hired at American Eagle Outfitters at a very popular shopping center in Queens. Thanks to Cristine, of course. And I already know at least one other person that works there... Cristine's friend that we went out with on Halloween works there. But I promise you this job will make for some very good drama. I went to high school with one of the girls that works there, and she was a total viral bitch back in the day, and I hear she hasn't changed one bit. Everyone hates her, everyone's always hated her. Haha! But no negative energy today. I'm going to have a sickkk weekend.