Thursday, September 30, 2010

Left out a little tidbit about the dress code at work. To put it simply, there isn't one. Jeans are standard. Tennis shoes are typical. And hoodies are necessary (subzero studio temperatures, you see).

But prior to stepping foot in the office and unprivvy to this information, my interpretation of business casual was... more business, less casual. Because I opted for something a little snazzier, I got a lot of this -- "You know how I know it's your first day?" And this -- "Bet you won't dress like that tomorrow, will you?"

To that, dear co-workers, I have a reply. I might lose the dress, maybe even the blazer... but the heels? The heels are here to stay.

- B.


Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Weatherman Keith was not kidding around when he said, "Gooooood Morning, Charlotte. It's a monsooooon out theeeeeere." (Is rain on your first day of work an omen like rain on your wedding day?) Torrential downpour led to serious snooze button abuse. Had to rip the covers off my legs quick like a BandAid because up and at 'em was my only choice. There was hair to be washed and skirts to be steamed.

And you know who loves my closet as much as I do? SPIDERS. I almost lost my towel turban when I flipped on the light switch and saw an eight-legged menace dangling from the ceiling. I'm not even sorry for smushing him.

Wednesday really began to look up when I made it to the office... I was given my very own half of a cubicle. Be jealous. Actually, you should be jealous. I get paid to watch sports. And doing my job means watching hilarious unedited interviews, like the following with Coach Gary Patterson:

Coach: "Well, you know, TCU is kind of like the un-cola of Texas football..."
Me: "Did he just say TCU is kind of like the uncle of Texas football?"
Co-worker: "No, I think he said TCU is kind of like the uncool of Texas football."

Turns out, Ol' Gary was comparing the team to a 1970s 7UP ad -- 7UP, the UN-cola? Yeah, I didn't get it either -- but I got a good laugh at the Horned Frogs' expense.

As for the rain... it hasn't let up. As for me... I'm out of steam. And I fully intend to veg out and watch all the Top Chef and TLC wedding shows I want.

- B.







Monday, September 27, 2010

Quick Pic

ESPN HQ.

"Please, don't touch the balls."

Wheels for the week.

Fall is here.

Running on a stick of string cheese and desperate for caffeine, I punch in my confirmation code and begrudgingly take my spot at the tail end of a security line at least 200 hundred people deep. I have exactly 28 minutes to make it to my gate. The Charlotte airport is just daring my impatience to rear its ugly head.

In front of me, a one-eyed shitzu (you can't make this stuff up) scowls at me from the clutches of its owners arms. Behind me, a screaming toddler furiously flails his legs against his stroller. And under my breath, I may or may not be shooting a handful of choice words their direction.You know it's bad when puppies and babies fluster me. They're practically two of my favorite things...

But after a fairly uneventful flight (not counting the overly eager Canadian who didn't stop asking questions until I pretended to fall asleep) and stellar "navigation skills" (thank you, blinking blue dot on the iPhone map), I've made it to Connecticut.

My accommodations? Bristol's finest (well, there's only two)... The Clarion. I might be sleeping on top of the comforter, but can't complain -- it's free. And I got a $1 drink coupon from the bar. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth" and all that good stuff. Sad to say, I will miss out on the "Teddy Bear and Doll Convention" hosted by the hotel this coming weekend. Maybe next year?

- B.







Saturday, September 25, 2010

B. on a Whim... the adventure begins

On my own in Charlotte, NC: The First Day. Well, "half" day, if we're being honest. I was up into the wee hours fraternizing with Don Draper -- don't worry, Mom. He's a fictional TV character, not a strange man I picked up around the apartment - and didn't technically get out of bed until noon.

Because my new social life is in it's fledgling stages (read: non-existent), I've been scoping out potential friends. Truth is, the prospects are grim. (Where are all the fun college grads hiding?) And I'm 90% sure my neighbor is a real life hooker. There's really no other excuse for a full body, black leather catsuit, right? The text from my mom after I broke the news... "In your apartment? Does she have short, dark hair? Boob job? Dad thinks he may have seen her."

In a nutshell: I've spent 11 hours watching college football. Two of those (non-consecutively) on a treadmill... I figure if I'm going to watch TV, I might as well burn calories while doing so. Heck, on a positive note, if I don't make friends quickly, I could potentially lose like 10 lbs.

Let's just gloss over the part where a) I didn't get the Longhorn game on TV -- we're not in Big 12 country anymore, Toto -- and b) the aforementioned Longhorns got their burnt orange behinds spanked by a subpar team who was just SHUT OUT by Stanford at home. Neither were high points.

And bless Kyle's heart... in between begging him to come visit (like now!!) I've texted and called the guy more in one day than I usually do in seven. (I'm BORED, remember?) His response: "You need a puppy." So Dad, when I show up with a furry faced bundle of joy, remember one thing -- it was Kyle's idea.

All in all, I adore my new place in my new city. What I don't adore is that it's 1,109 miles away from everyone that I love. But to be terribly cliche, nothing worth doing ever comes easy...

- B.