Some random quotes & thoughts

"If you lead a corporation, you have a responsibility to serve your shareholders to be honest with your employees. You have a responsibility to obey the law and to tell the truth." - President George W. Bush 3/7/02



"The Halliburton Company secretly changed its accounting practices when Vice President Dick Cheney was its chief executive, the Securities and Exchange Commission said yesterday as it fined the company $ 7.5 million." - The New York Times , August 4, 2004



Ah, honesty. What a beautiful thing. Too bad it's such a lonely word, as Billy Joel sang. Hate Billy Joel, kiddies? Piss off, I love him.



And another piece of honesty was mailed out last night-emailed, really--to a former college friend who I don't see often enough (four times in the last eight years since Brooklyn College ended) resulting in his downgrade to "acquaintance." After the ridiculous audacity to practically demand (although he'd call it a "strong suggestion") that I go to his wife's co-ed ---THAT'S RIGHT I WROTE CO-ED--baby shower.



Um, I hate to tell you Mr. Baby Shower, but those things are traditionally the exclusive domain of women and should stay that way. It's also at Grand Prospect Hall. Pretentious, anyone? These things are supposed to be hosted by the sister of the mommy-to-be or other close friend. Sending an invite and having men and women clap over the fact that you've procreated is the height of absurdity. Renting a hall that big is also the height of tackiness and stupidity. Oh, wait! I'm sorry, I forgot. It's two Saggitarians we're talking about, and they dwell on the surface. They regularly expect people to jump up and down at their good fortune since they don't notice you're choking. You tend to choke when someone crams something you don't care about down your throat.



I haven't gotten so much as a Christmas card, a birthday card or a random phone call from these two. Back in the days when I still cared to call them every now and then, I never got a return phone call. I remember my 23rd birthday and this guy made a big deal about taking me out for a birthday dinner. He made the big deal, not me. I hate my birthday and always will. Guess when he got around to remembering? June 1996. I had turned 24. I'll never turn down a festive meal, so I went. What was truly hilarious is how serious he took the whole thing. I took it, and his actions by that point, with a grain of salt. Sincerity only counts if it's 1) on time; 2) meaningful; and 3)consistent. Mr. Shower has never been any of these things. He's routinely been guilty over the years of spreading himself out too thin since he feels the need to slay dragons, save the world, and be an incredible hero. I say the Emperor wears No Clothes. The important things have gone under the radar with this guy and his wife and the stupid little ridiculous things get front page headlines. I honestly could care less.



And so, I answered him honestly. In an email.



I told him I would not be there. There would be no guest. I also told him how my PCOS diagnosis has rendered me childless. Totally. My ovaries don't work and never will without the help of a wonder drug called Clomid. Clomid is the successor to a drug called Pergonal. Pergonal was the magic pill that woman in Iowa took 7 years ago. She gave birth to 7 children. I believe her name was McCoehey? She had the same problem as me, and miscarried numerous times. I'm not taking any chances with being the old woman in the shoe, kiddies. I'm not out to break medical records or make history. My sarcasm has immortalized me in the hearts and minds of my friends. That's enough. Clomid also causes an estrogen surge that can cause cancer. Um, thanks, but no babies for me. No miscarriages, either. I've had enough surgeries with my knees, ankles, and wisdom teeth. I don't feel like being a hydrocodone junkie with all that pain. It's also why I don't go to baby showers.



The real kicker is that he sent me the link to Grand Prospect Hall, where this thing is being held. I told this guy on 3 different occasions how my father saw Billie Holiday there in 1957, two years before she died. It was the only concert she gave there, for one night only. My father reveled in telling this story, and my mother had gone to many weddings there. The last wedding I went to there was in 1991. This guy heard the Billie Holiday story 3 times---once alone, and then with two groups of people. The topic was jazz. Oh, I forgot. He doesn't listen. Unless it pertains to him. What a joke.



I also told him how thankful I am to have a job, since more downsizing is the trend at the new AP. I found out just yesterday that one of my former (acidic) coworkers mouthed off one last time to the wrong person and got canned. She was also in her 50's, so her high salary factored into that sacking decision, too, I'm certain. I, as well as the rest of the admins on my floor, will be taking over her work. I will soon be working from 9 am to 6:30 at night just to keep up. Whatever raise I get will be eaten by my raising rent, and healthcare costs. Essentially, there is no money for a shower gift. I don't have enough money for myself and he wants a gift? The people in hell want icewater, what should I do for them?



But the whole point of this is honesty--why the fuck do I have to care for a couple I've heard from on 4 occasions for the last 8 years? I'm invisible, apparently, unless a gift is involved. Since most of my expensive gifts now go to myself, my mother, V. or RD, they are NOT on the list.



And I told him so.



If he never speaks to me again? Not much of a difference. He'll be up to his ears in bottles, diapers, and alarm clocks to get out of bed when he can't sleep anymore. He won't have time to call. Just like I don't have the interest anymore.



Whatever. At least I was honest. Billy would be proud of me for following the tenet of his famous tune, huh?