Working in LA

Just a minute ago an intern came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. He gestured to the cubicle next to me, laughing quietly. I looked over and, I kid you not, the guy in the desk next to me is fast asleep in his chair.

OK, it’s official. I’m in the quietest office on the planet. People are falling asleep.

OK I should back up. I’m not in my regular office. Today I had the exciting adventure of commuting to Los Angeles for work. I took a long train ride with hopes of seeing the Hollywood sign, some paparazzi, and perhaps a minor celebrity, like Nicole Richie, waiting on the train platform. But no. I’ve discovered that downtown LA is kind of gross.

At the end of the work day, my boss and I wheeled our suitcases to our hotel a few blocks away. My boss proceeded to give me the I’m-older-then-you-and-I’m-a-guy speech about how dangerous downtown LA is and how I need to be careful. When he was mid-sentence in his “Be safe” speech, a homeless man sidled up next to me. The cross walk light decided at that moment to completely break and leave us stranded on the corner with this guy for about five minutes. I was whispered a variety of things, involving the words “cupcake”, “sweetness” and finally “princess” before the little walking man finally appeared and my boss yelled our “LET”S GO!” and we tore across the street before the homeless man could collect his bag of water bottles to follow me. We then charged down the next block, my boss muttering things like “Don’t worry, I would have killed that guy if he touched you.” And as he’s saying this, a weird guy jumps out in front of him and yells something to the effect of “Booyah!” in my bosses face and did a little dance. I put my head down and forged ahead. By this point we were walking so fast the little wheels on my suitcase were barely touching the ground. And even at this fast pace, a third guy came up to me and started walking along side me and asked if I needed help with my bag and seemed most adamant about helping me carry it. After bidding adieu to this final suitor, my boss and I came to another crosswalk and waited on this corner, trying to catch our breath. “Well,” he said, “We’ve gone four blocks and we’ve been harassed three times. Ready for dinner?”

The coolest part of going to LA is the hotel, which is pretty nice. I get to stay at the Bonaventure. They have elevators on the outside of the building that are all glass. And even though I can’t ride to my 30th floor room without holding onto a rail and almost peeing in my pants, it’s a pretty cool concept.

But back to my office life. I’m working in a fancy building on a floor that’s so quiet you can hear me writing with my ball point pen from across the floor. The only people in my group here are two slightly terrified looking interns and a man who is old and clearly unhappy, whom also tends to fall asleep on the job it would appear. The rest of the floor is vacant and I’m not sure why. It’s all very nice and modern. The only problem is that the temperature is apparently set on “arctic.” There was a heat wave here a while ago and now the office is so cold, I’m reduced to wrapping my coat around my legs and going to the bathroom every few hours to run my hands under hot water.

Luckily on day two here, my boss left and I got the fancy office! It was a great corner office and had floor to ceiling windows and a great view of the city. Now when interns come in and ask me questions, I can feel what it’s like to be a VP or something. I swivel around in my chair and I’m like “Yeeees?” And they sit all scared in the chair in front of me and value my opinion. It’s amazing what an office can do to your self esteem.

Then came the end of my trip and my train ride home. You may think riding a train to and from work is all sophisticated and exciting. Really it’s not. Especially when there’s a seven year old sitting next to you wearing a power rangers mask playing a harmonica…. For two hours. Apparently an entire troop of kids were returning from a day out in LA with grandma, who boarded the train with them and then promptly fell asleep for the entire ride. An I-Pod can only drown out so much until you start contemplating ever having children. One thing is for sure, I will never give mine a harmonica.

The boy and his rules (and teaching him to follow mine)

Without becoming too Sex & the City on you all, I’m going to depart from my normal work gossip and I’m going to blog about my life. Which, you must admit, is much more interesting.

After dating the boy for almost six months now, I’ve started to notice so many more things about boy’s lives. For example, my boyfriend lives by very strict standards of conduct. Most of these are about guys and their friends who are guys. I’ve learned some funny things through observations of the boy and his good friends. Here are some of the more interesting ones I’ve learned thus far:

A guy will never go to another guy’s house to pick him up to arrive at a third destination. This just isn’t done. Guys drive themselves places.

Two guys can go to lunch together and not say a word to each other. They can sit down together, eat their food together, and twenty minutes later, after total silence, can look at each other and be like “Ready to go?” “Yup.” And that’s lunch.

If a guy friend can’t come to a party or something, the phone call to his guy friend will last approximately ten seconds. “Brian’s not coming.” “Why not?” “I don’t know.” “Well, is he sick? Did something happen? Didn’t you talk to him?” “Yeah I talked to him. He said ‘I can’t come.’ And I said ‘OK.’”

When a guy and a girl are dating, the guy must drive, otherwise he will become very fidgety in the passenger seat and will be totally emasculated

I’ve also noticed my boyfriend gets his hair cut way more often them me. Like every two weeks. So one Saturday he was telling me he was going to get his hair cut the next day. It’s apparently a bi-monthly, Sunday ritual. So I asked him when he last let his hair grow out. And I told him I thought he should again because I wanted to see what it looked like. He got pouty and looked all stressed, so I told him to just go another two weeks. He wasn’t buying it, so I said “You can tell me what to do with my hair for those two weeks too.”

Now, obviously, I was setting this up for him to say “No way, you’re beautiful just as you are and I always like your hair.” But no. He didn’t miss a beat and he was all “OK, wear your hair curly for two weeks.” EW!

He claims he likes my hair curly, as many people often tell me. But they don’t realize curly hair is a pain. You can’t go anywhere with a breeze above 1 MPH. You can’t touch it all day. And while it may look cute and bouncy to start with, if you lay down for like a minute, you end up with a bird’s nest.

But I obliged. Now we’re already into week two of this tortuous deal. Immediately after agreeing upon the deal, we had to make a trip to Target, so that I could get curly hair shampoo, conditioner, and styling stuff. And he had to get some kind of trimmer thing. I’m not sure what for, but he said it’s for maintaining the haircut. Just another part of the mystery of boy’s hair care that I don’t intend to figure out. We were quite a sight in the Target check out line, both all irritated to have to buy things because the other person was making us.

I’ve been so annoyed all week about the curly hair thing. But it does pose a few advantages. Since my hair’s naturally curly, all I have to do is wash it in the morning. So I get to sleep in a little more. And at work, I’ve been getting comments on it. But mostly they’re like “Oh, you changed your hair.” And I’m like “Um. Do I know you?” Apparently more people are aware of me and my hair then I thought. The boy keeps insisting it made me look glamorous. Well, that’s cute, but I’m not sold. I still keep saying that next Sunday at 6 AM, the blow dryer will be out and the curly hair will be gone.

We went to dinner a few days ago and my hair was still curly, of course. But this time, I’d taken a nap earlier and we’d decided to go get dinner at ten at night. So my curly hair was in full bird’s nest mode. We ordered our food, and when it came, the girl who brought the food stopped and said to me “Oh my gosh. I really like your hair.” And then just walked off. The boy smiled hugely across from me. Damn waiter girl. I think he has placed plants around the city.