Oh, the things I snort at work...

Coworker #1 (indicating a platter of white powder on my desk): "Cleo, you should do a better job of concealing your drug habit."
Me: "Uh..."
Coworker #2 (walking by): "What's that?"
Coworker #1: "If you're going to leave it out like that, you really should share."
Coworker #2 (tastes the sugar and smiles)
Coworker #1: "That's good stuff. It makes everyone happy."

Go Jolanda!

A former coworker has somehow convinced me to watch the turtle races (yes, you read that correctly) at a bar called Big Joe's on Friday night. My money's on Jolanda...

In other news, it's 5 a.m. and I'm blogging. The Man owns my ass.

Attention Fellow Film Majors

I think we should option Cooper's new movie idea.

Things not to open at work...

For those of you looking to have your childhood memories corrupted, here ya go. And yes, I did open (and quickly closed) this at work and am posting this from work.

aw ye-ah, i'm bloggin, it's my birthday...well, it's not really my birthday...but 50 cent don't care, right?!
Cleo, I think you've been reading a little too much Bret Easton-Ellis and Chuck Palahaniuk - you're starting to sound like them (that disaffected 80s glamorama overloaded tone). Just don't invite me over to see your chainsaw.
it's too early for witty charm...later!

yippie! i'm so excited because this is my first ever blog posting!
i'm usually the one at parties who say: "Blogs? Bleh!!" and then proceeds to throw up all over your shiny new Pumas... but that's neither here nor there....
i'd better cut this short because I'm at work, and I have to go put together the daily sheets for tomorrow (basically a packet of information that lists everything going on inside Norris, plus any catering or audiovisual orders we do out of the building...)
adios!

I'm feeling decidedly stupid. I have a major presentation at work this morning, and I haven't prepared anything resembling speaker's notes--it's just me and my PowerPoint slides, riding off into the sunset. And really, do I care? I'm so beyond that. I'll see you in the unemployment line this afternoon.

Oh, about our Friday night excursion in Wilmette: The band was called Big Sweaty Men. I don't think that needs any further explanation.

Sunday morning. I'm in line at Whole Foods and a woman behind me taps my shoulder and points to a man over yonder cash register. "You see him?" The man was well-dressed, Italian-looking and suave in that "I-wear-Armani" kind of way. His eyes, however, were blatantly on a woman's ass. Like, his eyes seemed to BECOME part of this lady's rump. "That guy was flirting with another woman in the produce section," the woman behind me explained. "He was staring at another woman's boobs in the meat section, and he tried to flirt with me..." "Eh," I said. "It's Sunday morning! And he's kinda short." The woman looks me up and down. "Yeah, YOU would say that."

It's 1:30 in the morning. I'm at Fisk. I am digitizing video.
Either I'm very dedicated or very stupid.
That is all for now.

Oh my...Joel, I think if you weren't already gay, that would have done it. I'm so sorry I was unconscious long enough for you guys to have to deal with that...

Also, if I've insulted anyone in the last few days, it's the drugs talking. I do mean all the compliments, and probably most of the insults. But rest assured, you can tell yourself that it's the drugs talking.

This should be an interesting little experiment.

I'll start...

It's a Friday night, we're looking to blow some time while we wait for Ellen to get out of recovery so she can be conscious and we can bug her... so we go to a bar in... Wilmette. Most. Exciting. Place. Ever. The six of us double the patronage of the place--the other half is a group of tipsy middle aged women. Bad band plays. They dance. We dance. Woman says to me "so, are you experienced?" We leave.

Welcome to the Unfocus Group! I'd like to think of this as our record of the obtuse, abnormal, and just plain random collection of events that are... our lives.