Thank God It's...oh hell, you know what day it is.

I think today marked a milestone: nothing catastrophic happened at work today. In the space of two days (Wed. & Thurs.) we 1) received notice that one of our merchant accounts was being put on "probation", and 2) received no notice, but rather discovered via a phone call that another one of our merchant accounts already was revoked. This all ties directly to my particular job. Needless to say, my expectation was that I would be blamed for this and subsequently kicked to the curb by my employer. That didn't happen. We're just going to try to rectify the situations and deal with it.

Phew.

In happier gnus: I went to the new KCMU/KEXP studios today after work. Jeeeez...it's about 5 times as big as the old station, and not underground, either. The old space had a distinct Fort Knox feel to it. It felt like you were entering a bunker going in there. Now they have all kinds of space, and offices, and their live room (the Leopard Lounge) is way neato...it's got beads hanging from the wall and a (faux) leopard couch. Rad. Plus, on the bus over there, I was listening to the radio, and Cheryl Waters played a song off of one of the last CDs I reviewed (Linus of Hollywood - go out and find this CD [Let Yourself Be Happy]. It oozes '70 polyester 'n' cocaine excess, in a Leif Garrett sort-of-way. Amazing.) But I digress. The new spot is totally cool. And no, Paul Allen hasn't imposed his will on the station. It's the same old place, just bigger and deffer. Picked up another 10 CDs to review this week.

They get a lot of shit (meaning records) mailed in there every week. And a lot of it is shit. But I've listened to a few nuggets. Maybe I'll post them here. Just not now.

w0rd.

"I want you. You're mine..."

Just got off the phone with the grrrl. We're going out to dinner with one of her co-workers and his wife. We're going to fuckin' Canyons in fuckin' Mountlake Terrace, duuuude! Bitchen'!

Heh. Anyway. If I had a mullet wig, I'd wear it. It's always a laugh riot to go to the suburbs and watch white trash do whatever it is that white trash does. What the hell. The food at Canyons is pretty good. All we ever eat there are the appetizers anyway. There's a guy who is a waiter there that I used to work with at Nordstrom.com, and he is also friends with my soon-to-be-step-brother-in-law Brett (who also used to work at Nordstrom). Yep, that's right. I am soon to have a relative named Brett. He looks like a Brett. You'd never know that he wasn't ever in a frat in college. He's a good guy, but very different from...er, well...me and my blood family. I mean, my stepsister (who, surprise surprise, worked at Nordstrom) is pretty rad. She wasn't rad when we were in high school together and not related yet (her mom and my dad got married about a year after graduation), because her friends were the preppy popular clique, and my friends were the trenchcoat wearin', body-part-mutilatin', cigarette-smokin', "alternarock"-listenin' weirdos. But she's cool to me now.

Sorry. I guess it was tangent time.

Anyway, I think I need to go freshen up before my big dinner date.