Wednesday, January 03, 2007
In honor of the recently deceased Gerald Ford, I got a paid day off yesterday. What was already a four-day weekend for me was extended into an unprecedented five-day marathon of laziness. How did I waste my 120 hours of blissful solitude away from the pressure-cooker of work? Let me count the ways:
Thursday: I worked on Thursday, but I attended my company Christmas party Thursday night, a fitting kickoff for my eternal weekend. The party was held at The Timbermine, a pricey steak place in Ogden Canyon. I was supposed to bring a date but it's hard to find a free woman in close proximity on a weeknight, so I flew solo. Showing a rare lack of restraint, I ordered a fairly expensive entree (22-ounce bacon-wrapped tenderloin), followed by a fairly expensive dessert. Nothing says corporate solidarity like packing your colon with USDA Certified Grade A beef. I don't really even like steak, but I wasn't paying for it so my stomach and I decided to exact a little vengeance on my employer, thus proving the old axiom incorrect. Revenge is best served hot, or medium-well in this case. Not cold.
Friday: My disdain for red meat aside, it would have been hard to top Thursday's dinner, but I did it Friday night at my cousin Katie's wedding reception. The wedding was held at the Salt Lake Temple, with a dinner at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building immediately after. Katie's family is quite wealthy and prominent, so the dinner was lavish and the guest list included a number of local celebrities. There was an assigned seat waiting for me, complete with a little embossed name plate and a tiny gift box that I was sorely tempted to open. Katie is your typical former high school cheerleader/all-American princess so all her little princess friends were in attendance, making the eye candy much sweeter than anything else I ate that night. Mmm. Also in attendance were a few former college football stars whom I recognized, along with a very popular sportswriter from the Salt Lake Tribune, a man I could only stare at with drool oozing from my open mouth. This is a guy who's on a first name basis with every member of the Utah Jazz, along with half of the NBA superstars. I wanted to go introduce myself as some sort of colleague from a rival newspaper, but the dinner started before I could and my window of opportunity was slammed shut, probably saving me some humiliation.
*Note to all ignorant men: Never wear a short-sleeved dress shirt, especially is you have a suit coat on over the top of it. You'd be astounded at how many men at the dinner removed their suit coats to reveal short-sleeved dress shirts, in the middle of winter no less! Unless you're going for a distinct blue-collar look, keep the short-sleeved shirts where they belong; in the garage with the rest of your oily rags. Simply owning one proves at least one of two things: You're either a former Mormon missionary who served in a hot climate and had some leftover clothing, or you're the most stylishly inept human on the planet, possibly both. Also, learn to match your leathers. Brown shoes go with a brown belt. If you happen to be wearing purple shoes for some reason, you'd better have on a purple belt. Also, wear either suspenders or a belt, never both. Grrr...they should teach this stuff in school or at Boy Scout meetings. No wonder there are so many lesbians these days.
Saturday: I was dying to go skiing, but I didn't make it out of bed until two in the afternoon, so that pretty much sealed the deal there. A man has to have priorities, and paying 60 bucks for an hour of afternoon skiing isn't a great investment. The rest of my family took off for the family farm Saturday night and I was tempted to go, since I have a "girlfriend" who lives in Kamas whom I use for entertainment when I'm staying up there. But when I found out they were going snowshoeing I decided to stay home, since snowshoeing sucks and I had a better offer than my Kamas girlfriend waiting for me at home.
Sunday: Since my family was up rotting at the farm, I attended church only briefly, by myself. Then I went to the library, where all the homeless freaks and crazies end up on Sunday afternoons. Although it was the sabbath it was also New Year's Eve, so I had several options for recreation. My first choice was to spend time with a woman I recently met, the same woman I spurned the Kamas girl for. She invited me to escort her to a party at a local club but I said no, since paying a seven dollar cover charge (14 dollars if I went with her) to go deaf and inhale cigarette smoke isn't fun or healthy. Because I said no, I had to endure endless text messages the rest of the night, each detailing exactly what she was doing in an attempt to make me jealous. I ended up at a dorm party at Weber State where I was given an exclusive tour of the haunted 9th floor from a friend of mine who works in the building. Some years ago, a distraught college girl killed herself in one of the rooms up there and it's been rumored to be haunted since. My friend claims that when he works on that floor he can hear someone whispering to him. Although I do believe in ghosts, I also believe that my friend is a liar.
Monday: I broke Saturday's record by sleeping until three. That night, my friend and I went to see the new James Bond movie. The first rule of movie attendance is to check the entrance for ticket-takers before paying any money. If the coast is clear, you shouldn't bother buying a ticket. Since it was late on a holiday evening, the ticket-taker was probably sweeping up popcorn somewhere so we waltzed in without paying. Not exactly what Jesus would have done in the same situation, but if I ever become king of the Jews, I'll be happy to make a few lifestyle changes. The movie was decent, a nice improvement over all the recent Bond movies, especially since they finally got an ugly guy to play the title character. But he still got the ladies, proving the value of an expensive car, dry British wit, a tailored tuxedo, and a silenced weapon in your pants (sexual innuendo intended).
Tuesday: Since the rest of the world had to work while the federal employees got the day off, I thought it would be a good day to go skiing. I took my first trip to Snowbasin this year and when I got my picture taken for my ID card, the camera couldn't maneuver all the up to my lofty head so I had lean backward to get my photo taken. My head looks all scrunched and weird because of it, plus I was only half awake at the time, so now I get to spend the rest of the season trying to cover my picture when the cute girls working the lifts scan it. I guess there are negative consequences for being tall. What little snow there was really sucked, and there were rocks and other hazards exposed all over the mountain. I went home after I scraped a ski on a rock, tired of dealing with the unexpected crowd and hidden hazards. The day featured the usual collection of haggard ski chicks, along with one or two gorgeous ones, a fact which always makes me wonder if the women are thinking the same thing about the men. If so, I have little doubt which catergory I fit into.
Thursday: I worked on Thursday, but I attended my company Christmas party Thursday night, a fitting kickoff for my eternal weekend. The party was held at The Timbermine, a pricey steak place in Ogden Canyon. I was supposed to bring a date but it's hard to find a free woman in close proximity on a weeknight, so I flew solo. Showing a rare lack of restraint, I ordered a fairly expensive entree (22-ounce bacon-wrapped tenderloin), followed by a fairly expensive dessert. Nothing says corporate solidarity like packing your colon with USDA Certified Grade A beef. I don't really even like steak, but I wasn't paying for it so my stomach and I decided to exact a little vengeance on my employer, thus proving the old axiom incorrect. Revenge is best served hot, or medium-well in this case. Not cold.
Friday: My disdain for red meat aside, it would have been hard to top Thursday's dinner, but I did it Friday night at my cousin Katie's wedding reception. The wedding was held at the Salt Lake Temple, with a dinner at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building immediately after. Katie's family is quite wealthy and prominent, so the dinner was lavish and the guest list included a number of local celebrities. There was an assigned seat waiting for me, complete with a little embossed name plate and a tiny gift box that I was sorely tempted to open. Katie is your typical former high school cheerleader/all-American princess so all her little princess friends were in attendance, making the eye candy much sweeter than anything else I ate that night. Mmm. Also in attendance were a few former college football stars whom I recognized, along with a very popular sportswriter from the Salt Lake Tribune, a man I could only stare at with drool oozing from my open mouth. This is a guy who's on a first name basis with every member of the Utah Jazz, along with half of the NBA superstars. I wanted to go introduce myself as some sort of colleague from a rival newspaper, but the dinner started before I could and my window of opportunity was slammed shut, probably saving me some humiliation.
*Note to all ignorant men: Never wear a short-sleeved dress shirt, especially is you have a suit coat on over the top of it. You'd be astounded at how many men at the dinner removed their suit coats to reveal short-sleeved dress shirts, in the middle of winter no less! Unless you're going for a distinct blue-collar look, keep the short-sleeved shirts where they belong; in the garage with the rest of your oily rags. Simply owning one proves at least one of two things: You're either a former Mormon missionary who served in a hot climate and had some leftover clothing, or you're the most stylishly inept human on the planet, possibly both. Also, learn to match your leathers. Brown shoes go with a brown belt. If you happen to be wearing purple shoes for some reason, you'd better have on a purple belt. Also, wear either suspenders or a belt, never both. Grrr...they should teach this stuff in school or at Boy Scout meetings. No wonder there are so many lesbians these days.
Saturday: I was dying to go skiing, but I didn't make it out of bed until two in the afternoon, so that pretty much sealed the deal there. A man has to have priorities, and paying 60 bucks for an hour of afternoon skiing isn't a great investment. The rest of my family took off for the family farm Saturday night and I was tempted to go, since I have a "girlfriend" who lives in Kamas whom I use for entertainment when I'm staying up there. But when I found out they were going snowshoeing I decided to stay home, since snowshoeing sucks and I had a better offer than my Kamas girlfriend waiting for me at home.
Sunday: Since my family was up rotting at the farm, I attended church only briefly, by myself. Then I went to the library, where all the homeless freaks and crazies end up on Sunday afternoons. Although it was the sabbath it was also New Year's Eve, so I had several options for recreation. My first choice was to spend time with a woman I recently met, the same woman I spurned the Kamas girl for. She invited me to escort her to a party at a local club but I said no, since paying a seven dollar cover charge (14 dollars if I went with her) to go deaf and inhale cigarette smoke isn't fun or healthy. Because I said no, I had to endure endless text messages the rest of the night, each detailing exactly what she was doing in an attempt to make me jealous. I ended up at a dorm party at Weber State where I was given an exclusive tour of the haunted 9th floor from a friend of mine who works in the building. Some years ago, a distraught college girl killed herself in one of the rooms up there and it's been rumored to be haunted since. My friend claims that when he works on that floor he can hear someone whispering to him. Although I do believe in ghosts, I also believe that my friend is a liar.
Monday: I broke Saturday's record by sleeping until three. That night, my friend and I went to see the new James Bond movie. The first rule of movie attendance is to check the entrance for ticket-takers before paying any money. If the coast is clear, you shouldn't bother buying a ticket. Since it was late on a holiday evening, the ticket-taker was probably sweeping up popcorn somewhere so we waltzed in without paying. Not exactly what Jesus would have done in the same situation, but if I ever become king of the Jews, I'll be happy to make a few lifestyle changes. The movie was decent, a nice improvement over all the recent Bond movies, especially since they finally got an ugly guy to play the title character. But he still got the ladies, proving the value of an expensive car, dry British wit, a tailored tuxedo, and a silenced weapon in your pants (sexual innuendo intended).
Tuesday: Since the rest of the world had to work while the federal employees got the day off, I thought it would be a good day to go skiing. I took my first trip to Snowbasin this year and when I got my picture taken for my ID card, the camera couldn't maneuver all the up to my lofty head so I had lean backward to get my photo taken. My head looks all scrunched and weird because of it, plus I was only half awake at the time, so now I get to spend the rest of the season trying to cover my picture when the cute girls working the lifts scan it. I guess there are negative consequences for being tall. What little snow there was really sucked, and there were rocks and other hazards exposed all over the mountain. I went home after I scraped a ski on a rock, tired of dealing with the unexpected crowd and hidden hazards. The day featured the usual collection of haggard ski chicks, along with one or two gorgeous ones, a fact which always makes me wonder if the women are thinking the same thing about the men. If so, I have little doubt which catergory I fit into.
# posted by RBW @ 8:39 AM 
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Too bad I couldn't see you Sunday night. Nothing beats an empty house and a goodlooking man. *Wink* *Kiss*
Oh yeah, and if you ever mention that girl from Kamas again, you'll be stuck with her and only her. Hell hath no fury like a jealous woman.
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