19 march 02

Well I finally have the bed. It was delivered over a week ago but the ceiling over the staircase leading up to my apartment was too low for the queen-size boxspring to fit, so I've been sleeping on just the mattress for a while. Today they brought me a split boxspring and tonight will be my first night on the complete bed. The boxspring they brought is a different color than the mattress and the delivery guy said I should send it back and get the matching one but do I really care what color it is? No, I don't. I need a comforter (down) and two additional pillows (down) and then I think I'll be set. I also need a bedskirt but that's totally cosmetic so I'm not in so much of a rush. No more sleeping on the floor for me. I think I feel like an adult. Don't tell anyone.

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Last friday I was feeling like I needed to do something fun after work to celebrate the end of a very long, very busy week. I called Norm to see if he wanted to go to a movie (yeah, I know, movies don't usually signify "celebratory fun" but give me a break) and he mentioned that while going through some old files recently he came across a certificate that entitled the bearer and guest to a free meal (and two free cocktails) at any Marriott hotel. There was no expiration date which was key because he came into possession of the thing about three years ago (the story of the certificate's acquisition has not been deemed interesting enough to recount here). So that evening we made out way to the swankiest Marriot we could find in New York, the Marriott Marquis in Times Square. Damn, that place is big. We took a series of entertaining elevator rides (must've been the weekend of the 2002 Texan Transvestite Convention) up to the 47th floor to see the rotating restaurant with reportedly amazing views, but of course you needed a reservation for that one. Lower down we found JW's Steakhouse, which met our requirements of being extraordinarily expensive. After a brief inquiry in the back, the hostess agreed to honor our certificate and showed us to a table overlooking a huge Michael Jackson billboard and other advertisements that couldn't possibly be seen from ground level. To make a long story short, I had a sour apple martini, a glass of wine, a tomato and onion salad, and the surf and turf special. I've never had surf and turf before, but hell, it was theoretically free, and I was sure it was expensive, and hey, I wanted lobster, dammit. We got sides of potatoes and asparagus, ordered dessert, ordered coffee. I think we were there for close to four hours. Finally we asked our waiter for the check thinking that surely we had to pay for something, but our waiter informed us that everything was taken care of. Trying not to giggle, we asked to be told how much the meal had come to so we could calculate the tip. We were told that the bill would have been $190. How do you like that? Completely free. We went back into the atrium area and lounged on the couches for a while watching the glass elevators go up and down. A damn fine evening.

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Note: The Executive Editor had a problem with the Gym Calendar on the left (I believe "obsessive" was the word he used) so I've replaced it with something that should be much more useful to you, the readers. In case anyone is concerned, rest assured that I am still going regularly and have even learned to occasionally enjoy the experience.

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I'm liking the new Boards of Canada cd, though hearing Leslie Nielson's voice on that one track is a little disconcerting.

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My brother's company just hired a new salesperson to replace the woman who recently gave notice. The new employee interviewed yesterday, and began working today. Her name is Laura, and everybody really liked her at her interview. Except her name isn't Laura. It's Ziggy Stardust. "Laura" is the assumed name she used to avoid freaking people out at the interview (and on her resume) but legally, from birth, she is Ziggy Stardust. "Call me Ziggy" she told my brother this morning. Understandably it took him a little while to come to grips with the fact that she wasn't kidding. I really just don't know what to say about the situation. As long as she doesn't have a brother named Thin White Duke. Luckily, I get to make her business cards.