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This past weekend I was in a wedding for one of my dearest friends. I am so exhausted right now, posting to my blog is all I can do to keep from face-planting into my keyboard.

After weeks of couples showers, bridal parties, bachlorette events, wedding errands, etc. I am so happy for the couple that they are married, and so happy for me that I can now relax and don’t have to worry about hand-crafted ring pillows and or the correct bridal hair pins. Aaaahhh.

One thing that I must get off my chest is my annoyance with a certain person who accompanied me to the ceremony and reception. This person, at first, was friendly, witty, charming and sweet. Who would have thought after 4 glasses of red wine, 1 glass of white, 1 glass of bubbly, and 2 cocktails this person would turn into an ass-clown and start embarrassing me in front of the bride and groom’s family and friends????!!!! LISTEN HERE PEOPLE, wedding receptions are not college frat parties. You are not supposed to gorge yourself on shrimp cocktails and booze. It’s not about you, it’s about the couple you are celebrating. Getting trashed so you feel comfortable doing the “YMCA” on the dance floor is not acceptable. You will probably end up falling into the band or toppling great Aunt Polly who just flew in from Australia for the wedding. Plus, everyone will inevitably think got your degree in Dumbassery, andother slightly less drunk people will call you a douche. And you are one.  My last memory of leaving the reception is you drunkenly slurring, “Don’t put this on me. This isn’t my fault, you’re the one who wants to go. Don’t LOOK at me like THAT.” This is not a good recollection of you, and I have a looooooong memory.

Word for the moron from the wise one: Before attending your next wedding or social function, please know that your behavior was crappy, you need a refresher in social tact and most importantly, you will never accompany me anywhere again. My friends might be gracious enough to write it off as a funny, slightly stupid incident, but I am not so magnanimous.

And, one more thing, although I appreciated the Pine State Biscuits breakfast and apology the next morning, might I remind you I did not forgive you. Just saying…

The aforementioned title is a quote from Dorothy Parker (I couldn’t possibly take the credit for something so witty and true). I’m currently reading one of her biographies, and falling even more in love with her than I was before! I recently discovered “Dorothy Parker Days.” It’s an actual festival that takes place in New York every June in celebration of Ms. Algonquin Table.

My infatuation with Ms. Parker originated with a little book call, “My Husband Said He Needed More Space (so I locked him outside).” I can’t remember if I purchased the book, or if my younger sister purchased it and I just stole her copy. The point is, I got the book and I loved it. Upon reading the quotes from Dorothy Parker and Tallulah Bankhead, I thought these 2 to be uproariously funny and hustled to Powell’s in search of all things Dorothy & Tallulah. I also Googled, and Amazon’ed. To my surprise these women were literary greats of their times. Dorothy Parker was a member of the sovereign Algonquin Roundtable, the infamous spot my Aunt talked about when I was younger, and the place where many a raucous story and cocktail was consumed!

As I learned and read more about Dorothy and Tallulah, I was introduced to Zelda Fitzgerald, Rebecca West, Ruth Hale, Natalie Clifford Barney, Rita Mae Brown, and a host of other talented female writers.

If you’re new to Dorothy and Tallulah, I recommend the spirited verses in The Portable Dorothy Parker and Tallulah: My Autobiography. Both are good reads and transport you back to days when writers ran wild in the streets of NYC…

Yes! I’m finally at Level 12. Praise the media lords.

I started playing Restaurant City back in August when I read a little blurb about it in The Oregonian. I’m still not sure whether to thank or curse the author. What started as mere curiosity, has grown into a full compulsion for all things Restaurant City. I’ll admit right here- I’m addicted. You should hear me at work. I’m sporadically yelling across the cubes, “Yipee, I just leveled up in my menu options,” or “What does it take for a girl to get a little ingredient trading love.”

B, my co-worker, thinks I’m insane and has started teasing me about my weird fanaticism. Yesterday, after I told him I had decided to purchase new pink floor tiles instead of over-priced saffron, he said, “You are mentally losing it. You’re actually acting like those Star-Trek freaks and video-gamers who sit on their bean bag chairs and obsess over a fictional game and think happy hour is when they win a new level, or whatever.” My response? “So you won’t trade me potatoes for corn???” 

Unfortunately, he’s right. I’ve developed a Restaurant City pattern. It started when I began logging in during lunches or on my netbook at work. It escalated once I began thinking about it incessantly during the day, and it reached it’s peak when I started canceling happy hour so I could dash home and be with “my Restaurant City.”

I realized the obsession has gotten a little out of hand, but with more and more friends playing, trading and gifting it’s hard to resist. Oh well, at least it’s a vice that’s legal.

*If you have any tips or want any advice, I’m happy to share. Just drop a line!

Where do you find the balance between work and personal?  Older people and colleagues say things like, “work hard when you’re young so you can relax when you’re older.” Or “the time to get ahead is now while you’re still young!” Friends say, “You’re working too hard. You need more you time.” 

What are we truly working for? What’s a hard working girl to do? I know I am working too hard and too much, but I’ve become accustomed to the lifestyle and money and now I’m not sure how content I’d be without those comforts. However, my work is beginning to feel boring and tedious. When I ask for new projects and challenges they tend to be more of the same boring shit so I find myself hesitant to push very hard.

I liken this to the 7 Year Itch in marriage, although I just heard on the Today show last week it’s now called the “3 Year Itch” because couples these day have less patience and broadmindedness when trying to make marriage work. Is it that I’ve been raised in the age of the microwave society? Where everything is achievable when you want, how you want it. Do we live in a world of instant gratification, so when work, marriage or problems get too heavy we are guaranteed new and better with a simple update?! Or is it I’m just getting older and realizing how hard it is to keep up with my own expectations, the expectations of my family and friends, and the Joneses?

When did my idea of a good time change from happy hour at Departure to hurrying home to put on yoga pants, eat cereal and watch Bones?!

How do we motivate ourselves out of ruts, when we feel no motivation?

After a relaxing mini-trip, I returned to the office to find everyone stressed out with rumors buzzing that our Director will be leaving. We’re not sure if the departure is a choice or a strong suggestion, but whatever the reasoning, we’re all shaking in our boots because she is “in like Flynn” with the CEO (who decides the outcome of our dept. every time there’s a shake-up). For the record, we have had a HUGE number of turnaround in the past year. Just when I think we’re past the upheaval, then someone else leaves the team, or someone is fired, or they move our dept. or they downsize us. Let me tell you- the morale of this place is seriously lacking.

In my head, I’m going back and forth with marching into her office tomorrow morning and demanding the truth, or keeping quiet and watching how this whole thing pans out. Whatever I do, I need a plan. As Don Draper says, “What are you going to do? You haven’t thought about this. You don’t have a plan.” Any suggestions?

Recently, I had my 10-year high school reunion. Ack. I almost can’t believe it’s been 10 years! I went back to my Mom’s house and found some old yearbooks, diaries and saved notes and letters from way back then. What a time warp! I spent a couple hours just reading through everything, and reminding myself of all my good times in the past. My best find was the “Secret Diary” I had when I was 7 and 8. I talked all about my friends at school, my snoopy little sister, how much I wanted Codie (my grade school best friend) to come with my family to the beach for the week and my parents wouldn’t let me invite her, how mad I was at my Dad for not letting me go to Adam’s baseball game, etc. You know, all the usual intense drama that 8 year-olds suffer from.  My favorite entry was a week after Christmas, describing all the cool Barbie stuff Santa left. At the end of the entry I said my goal when I grew up was to be just like Barbie. I wrote:

“I want to be rich and have lots and lots of mony. And I want a purple corvet (Corvette) becuas Barbie has a pink corvet. And I want a condo and a malliboo (Malibu) house like barbie has. We play in the sand and bulid castles and go in the water. I can go there not with my mom and dad when I get older and have my condo. My mom talks and shows condos to people.” 

I was rolling when I read this. So funny. But I’m thinking that my goals at 8 should probably be my goals now. I actually still want all that stuff. I’d like a condo in the Pearl, a purple Corvette and lots and lots of money. I think my 8 year-old self was pretty damn smart. If I could go back and time, I’d tack those goals on my wall and tell my 23 year-old self to stop buying Kate Spade purses and Christian Louboutin shoes so I could afford a condo, purple Corvette, and have lots of $ stashed in the bank. Alas, time-travel is not an option.

Oh well, as Carrie Bradshaw says, “I like to keep my money where I can see it- in my closet.”

I’m sitting in my cube today (btw- does anyone know or care that my entire dept got demoted and regaled to “cubes” instead of our beautiful offices overlooking Pioneer Place-ick), when an attorney came over to tell me about an upcoming case (like I care, please leave me alone I’m trying to work). This stupid idiot is suing an insurance company because they were standing in a field that had a sign that said NO TRESPASSING, watching a baseball game and a foul ball hit him. Instead of taking reponsibility for the fact he was trespassing and realizing that it was HIS FAULT, he sues the owner of the field because there is no sign stating NO STANDING. What a dumbfuck. This idiot should be taken out back and shot. End of story. All done. No need for a lawsuit. All better.
This is the type of thing that makes me want to go home, drink a gallon of booze and rip my hair out. Instead, I’m meeting Meech for drinks and snacks at Le Hana. Yay.

But I’m bored today and work and finally found my password, so I’m back, baby!

Seriously. I don’t have all that much to report. Portland is still Portland. I’m still me. I did have oral surgery last month and wound up with a weird condition called Parethesia, where the lower half of my face is numb. It sucks, but I’m trying to stay positive about it because I realize other people have much worse. Plus, it’s supposedly temporary, so I feel like the more positive I am, the sooner the feeling will return. Keep good thoughts out there for me.

Anything scary or tragic happen to you this month? Or anything that made you rethink work, personal time or life?

I know this is the 2nd post titled, “Viva Hawaii,” but I had to do it again. The Tripp sisters are leaving tomorrow for almost 2 weeks of sun, sand, boys & fun in Kapaa, Kauai. I can hear you thinking, “Isn’t this the same thing you did last year?” And yes, it is. It is our little tradition … and guess what, I hope it mimics last year too!!!

Last year, we ate fresh fruit and seafood, napped with beach breezes in our hair, wiggled our toes in sand and warm water, kissed Tongan boys in local bars, had our Dad strategically bankrupt every one of us in Monopoly, drank Macadamia Nut liqueur Pina Coloadas, laid out in the sun and read “dirty” magazines, cooked the biggest Thanksgiving dinner ever, flirted with boys on our booze cruise around the Na’pali coast, missed the Smith Bros. Luau and HAD THE MOST AMAZING TIME!

It’s the 3 Twisted Tripp Sister, island-style. Yahoo! I say …. REDO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

From the land of business, our Senior Marketing Manager has given her formal resignation. This is very hard for me, as I only started this job approximately 7 months ago, and I was learning a lot from her. She has 10 years experience in legal marketing and the learning curve has been a little tough on me. I realize that it takes anyone a good 6-9 months to fully understand office politics, interoffice conflicts, and new processes and systems, but I’m just not ready to give her up! Boo-hoo.

I’m worried about where the next steps in this situation will take me and our department. “Fancy” (as we’ll call her) has been the foundation of the department and worked here long enough to understand the diplomacies and delicacies of manuevering protests to positives. Her role here is signifigant and encompassing. I’m happy that she is moving on to pursue her goals, but concerned with where that leaves our cracked and stuggling department. Any advice?

And let’s not even mention the economy! Today there was a particularly troubling story about legal woes in the New York Times. Aye-yai-yai! This is not good news people. And it seems there is no end in sight. At first it was Heller Ehrman, then Thelen LLP …. what’s next? This trend alarms me.

Here’s to hoping we’ll gain another Marketing Manager soon!