Doing Their Part

Apparently they're now carpooling in the galaxy.

She's Got Your Number

Gail From Corporate kicks ass and takes names and then burns the piece of paper that the names are written on. Gail From Corporate will explain that you are not doing the company a favor by letting them pay you. Gail From Corporate will fire your lazy butt without consulting the in-house management. Gail From Corporate does that thing where she uses two fingers to point at her eyes then point at you to let you know that she is watching you and you are likely going down.

Gail From Corporate is my alter-ego. No, she doesn't work here but she knows how it should be done and she will nail you.

Gail From Corporate came very close to announcing herself at the Urban Outfitters on Melrose last fall. Her plan was to fire the hungover, chipped black nail polish, China Rain drenched, “sales department.” She would toss them out of the store but not before explaining that customer service does not involve forcing a long line of customers to wait to pay while you finish a cell conversation about what a hooker Devon looked like at that thing last night.

Gail From Corporate was talked out of firing the serving staff at her favorite breakfast place but not before she bussed all of the dishes in her section and refilled waters and coffees. Gail From Corporate does not do side-work but will make a detailed note of sloppy ketchup marrying practices.

Gail From Corporate thought it best that the young women in the Lingerie Department at Macy’s be put on unpaid leave while attending a brassiere-fitting seminar. Topic number one of the four day seminar would focus on the importance of having a tape measure on hand for foundation fittings instead of relying on Sylvie to “eye-ball it.”

For some reason, my family and pets do not acknowledge Gail From Corporate’s authority. Gail From Corporate will need to commandeer your phone to make a call to the home office.

A Little Shut Eye

When Bob was very tiny he spent many evenings backstage in nightclubs. He had some time in front of an audience. He spent hours inside recording studios while band members took turns holding him. He learned to sleep through any situation involving live music.

It's been a few years and now Jeff's back playing music again. His new band was in the studio recording over the weekend. Bob and I stopped by for a visit. We sat in the booth and listened. By the end of the second song, Bob was sleeping like a baby... a baby Bob.

Smacksy Sunday Links

Guys? This particular post from Mrs. Moon says it for me with a giant piece of Absolutely and a side of Amen-to-That.

Perhaps because Mr. Rosenberg and I will be celebrating our five year wedding anniversary this week, I currently have a crush on this blog.

Bob had his very first piano class last Tuesday and now walks through the house yelling, "Forte!" In honor of this, I bring you a sweet piano genius.

Happy Sunday.

Smacksy Saturday Photo: My Superhero

Bob the Batman in his jammies. Photo by Karen.

Violet, Less Blue

She was very thin when she got here and it wasn't because of a lack of available food. She was sad and had been living alone in the old green craftsman for four months. She had company a few times a day but it was no substitute for her lady. She missed her lady.

She's been with us for 10 days now. She has stopped hiding behind the washing machine. She lets us pick her up and hold her. She follows Bob around the kitchen. She will touch noses with Daisy the dog and has patience with our crabby, black cat, Pearl. She eats four times a day and she's gaining weight. She likes to talk and she likes to listen and she likes to hear her name. Violet, VeeVee, Violetta, Vi: she answers to all of them.

Jeff used to be allergic to cats.
I used to think I was a dog person. (Don't tell Pearl.)
And now?
Violet is ours and we are hers.

The Sensitive Type

Today the Jedi set aside his light saber and made a birthday cake in the sandbox and sang Hickory Dickory Dock, acapella. Yes, a girl was involved.