Do You Work Here?

So after my hormonally challenged breakfast-- well, not really breakfast in the food sense, just the time sense-- I only had coffee-- I went to Borders to try and find "Other Voices"-- which is a literary publication which my friend Cheryl had a story published in this month. She's an AMAZING writer. And "Other Voices" is pretty cool, too-- all fiction and pretty prestigious. So prestigious that I would be doing cartwheels if I got published in it. Well, Borders didn't have any "Other Voices" in stock. But they did have one voice-- one very annoying voice -- that of my old boss's mother- (the horrible, awful, no good very bad pr one) and this is what that voice said to me-- while looking me straight in the eye with not one iota of recognition-- "Do you work here?" I swear to God. I just looked at her-- came close to saying, "Terri!" But I was so horrified by the question and at seeing her, that I couldn't even begin to know how to process having her look directly at me and not recognize me as her daughter's former employee forget as a Border's employee. So I just said, "No," a touch rudely and walked away in relief. Relief at having her not recognize me after having talked to her and seen her a trillion times in the past and even more so at not having to ever work for her daughter or anyone like her ever again.

I think that was a sign. So I may not work on "Ugly Betty." But I don't work for an Ugly Betty either, Yes, a terrible joke, I admit. But nonetheless, true.

And then another odd thing occurred today. While I was getting my roots done so that I may look yet even blonder and whiter, I was looking through Angeleno and saw a picture of the New York guy I used to date-- the one whose friend mauled me and who I threw olives at the last time I saw him-- okay, not proud of that so much but he was making out with a girl in front of me-- at a dinner thrown for me in New York and I was trying to stop the make out session. Anyway, he was in the Scene in LA section. He was at some Boys Night Out thing at Bloomingdales in Sherman Oaks. It was very strange to see him one- in LA and two-- after six years-- older and wider and did I mention he went to the wrap party for the show with me one year while he was in town--? I will say it is sexy to have a guy who gets women's clothes and isn't gay and is sexy himself and can make you feel sexy and so anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. Strange coincidences or occurrences or just strangeness. I'm not sure what they mean, what it means. I'm guessing something. It has to mean something. I just hope it's something good.