13 going on 30 is one of my favorite chick flicks...it's right up there with Mean Girls and Bring It On.  Jennifer Garner is adorable and though I'm not nearly as cute or fashionable as Jennifer at 30 but really 13, I sometimes feel like I'm right there with her.  I certainly don't feel 36.  Somehow in my mind I've conjured up a 36 year old to be mature and doing grown up things.  While I'm fairly mature, I often don't like to be.  I like to read Young Adult novels...especially in the sort of science fictiony/fantasy/supernatural genre.  I like Hello Kitty, cutesy t shirts (johnny cupcakes and David and Goliath please!) and cheap jewelry and sparkly makeup.  I wear a bear hat with ears and rain boots with cherries.  I do fairy dances and make up songs.  I think I grew up really super fast and somehow missed the kind of irreverence and whimsy of being a kid.  So silly pops out here and there.  Is there a point where we *need* to grow up completely?  Is it ok to do things like hold down a job, own a home and still like to wait until the last Funyun before licking your fingers clean?

Anyhoo in case you haven't picked up on it yet, it's my birthday.  Yup.  And usually I am counting down from the New Year to this lovely day.  Somehow this year the first two months have escaped me and so this year is completely without ritual.  Like counting down.  Like torturing Chaz with said countdown.  He's gotten off SO lucky this year with maybe only 10 references to my approaching special day.  And there aren't any plans and I don't even get to make a cake (which gives me the perfect opportunity to buy something extra sinfully yummy desserty delicious).  Not to be all New Yorker, but it's a little crazycakes right now: 

Work is busy and yet I'm strangely detached from it now that I'm vested.  Oh yes that's right.  Those beotches are working for me now.  By some strange ironic turn of events I got a letter in the mail informing me that the pension now vests at 3 years, not 5.  And while I could have wasted energy shaking my fists of rage that I get this 2 months away from my five year finish line instead of OH TWO YEARS AGO, I didn't.  Instead I whooped and hollered like I won a million dollars and did the bouncing, crazy David Brent dance of delight.  So needless to say, frankly my dears, I don't give a rat's ass.  I've officially started looking for jobs in New Orleans and trying to work my few leetle connections.

And let's just say that looking for a job in New Orleans when you're in New York City is a little hard.  Not impossible with this new fangled thang called the interweb (my property manager is so cute when he's says things like interweb and Craigspace and facepage)..but a challenge when you're competing with people who are already there.    I actually got an interview for a facilities manager job and because of jury duty am having to beg for a phone interview so that I can still be in the running.  This is the part where I beg for some prayers and sacrificial offerings that I at least get considered!

Mom's praying for me.  Which I think actually helped us as we only lost 2 weeks of mortgage before renting the NOLA place out.  Yippie skippie we don't need to put Angus and the cup out on the corner for spare change!  And the best part is downstairs is rented out on a 6 month lease and upstairs 3 month lease...POIFECT!

Which leads me to jury duty.  As you can guess I got picked for a case.  And while there are incredibly long periods of wanting to poke your eyes out boredom and waiting/down time, I think everyone should do this shit once in their lives.  I am learning so much and I have a new found respect for the process.  It's not always fair and not perfect by any means, but hey it's better than having a random body part cut off.  So more dancing of joy that I don't have to be in the office right now, but it's hard because I'm still having to get a lot of my work done which means logging on during my lunch hour and after court.

So all that would be enough, except we have to throw a gutted kitchen into the mix.  Hells yeah.  Kitchen renovation.  It's amazing to me that with all the renovation we have done, you would think we would not be flabbergasted each and every time that 1)contractors lie (actually House says everyone lies) 2)it's *never* an easy/fast job and 3)there is always at least one surprise.  So our one week kitchen job is now approaching the second week and all they have done is gut the room and update electrics.  Can we say cold, dank dirty room?  Can we say an inch of dust EVERYWHERE?  My kitchen supplies, canned goods and furniture all in the dining and living rooms?  The hardest part is that we are making do with a coffee pot, a crock pot and a microwave.  Shit sux. 

But it's a means to an ends y'all!  We're going to get our Bayonne place pretty so that it will rent out, get some jobs and high tail our asses on out of here!  Happy Birthday to me!