Comments are welcomed on the same.

Himanshu

Webmaster - TheMolu.com

"I'm the Boss!"

He then taped it to his office door.

Later that day when he returned from lunch, he found that someone had taped a note to the sign that said :-

"Your wife called. She wants her sign back."

Ich würd sagen: Alle waren da.

Über wen Vogue-Chefredakteurin Christiane Arp da wohl gerade lästert?

Doch wohl nicht über die Kollektion??

Ich geb's zu - die Bilder sind nicht der Hit - meine Hoffnung liegt in unserer Modejournalistin, die bessere Sicht hatte. Nur so viel: alles hochgeschlossen, sehr streng und clean, schmale Silhouetten mit Betonung auf den Schultern, die Farben: Weiß, Schwarz, Electric Blue und Beige. Das war's. Ehrlich gesagt, zusammen mit den immer gleichen Electro Beats leider ein bisschen gefühlsarm.

Fotos: Milanoffice/Modepilot

It is not really that Mom's irritating little chihuahua is boss of the family. It's more a matter of her having us trained. She does not like the time I spend on my laptop. She has a way of lifting your hand and insisting she gets petted.

We had a mouse problem for the first few years we were here, so I put chihuahua's food in a clear plastic shoe box, with a lid to cover it at night. This also allows chihuahua enough food to feed her in the eventual disappearance of all humans in the world. However, she will starve because there will not be a human available to scoop the dog food to one end, every morning. 

Apparently, she sees the little inch deep hole she eats from each day, to be the end of the food. Actually, she doesn't see the dog food as food at all. She sees it as something to drop all over the floor and chew loudly to impress upon us how she is reduced to eating disgusting dog food, and why have we not roaster her a chicken lately.

There are three adults and one teen in the house at this time; plus two visitors. Irritating little chihuahua has decided that she controls the area where the kitchen flooring touches the frontroom carpeting and you must pay a toll, to her, when you cross over. She will sit up and do her best to look innocent and hungry. Middle boy falls for this everytime. Younger boy pretends to be the "hard guy" so he won't give in. He is, however, the first one to brag that the chihuahua has climbed into bed with him if I am gone for several days in a row.

We each have our uses: Older boy is the master of belly rubs. Middle boy, and visiting girl, are the suckers who will always hand out a treat. Younger boy and husband are to let her out, although there are days when I am the only one allowed to. Husband is also the chicken cooker. My role in life is to be at her disposal, 24/7, and her bed. And, when she visits her original master, mom's job is to hold her and protect her from evil me.

We have two couches in the frontroom and little chihuahua has declared one to be a petting zone; so if you lay down on it, your arm must come down over the edge and pet her.

Then, there are the signals. She would not want us to get too complacent. For a while, she would sit up and beg. You would ask her if she had to go out and she would shake her whole body no and then go to the door. So, no meant yes. Now, no means no to outside and yes to treat. Some weeks she fools us by actually going to the door and really meaning it.

I have to go now. Irritating chihuahua says it is time to pet her.

Psalm 62: 1 & 2

My worth is determined by God.

It is not determined by my boss. No matter how tempting it may be to strive for his personal approval. I should do my job, do it to the best of my ability, enjoy being here and leave it at that.

It is not determined by how well I sing on any given day. As tempting as it may be to base my worth on my performance, I have to resist that urge and just immerse myself in worshiping the Most High.

It is not determined by how many friends I have or who invites me to lunch on Sundays. I'm really bad about this one. When I was a kid it was a mark of "wealth" and Popularity to go out to lunch on Sundays after church. I am constantly surprised at how much my heart aches when we occasionally go home from church with no social engagement. Which is crazy because most of the time I am just flat exhausted by Sunday afternoon and would probably be better off with a nap anyway.

My worth is not determined by how quickly I can look up a bible reference or how many bible verses I can quote by heart. Christianity is NOT a competition sport.

it is not determined by how long I've been a Christian. People who are "older in Christ" have no more or less worth than I. We are ALL children of the King.

My worth is not determined by how many hits my blog gets per day. As we have had various "big news" items come up in our lives the past few weeks I have been getting really big spikes in my "readership" but they are temporary. And I always put huge pressure on myself to "come up with something really good to post about" the day after a spike. Hoping to retain some of the new readers.

My worth is also NOT determined by my physical appearance. Yes I am overweight. Yes I need to do something about it. But the act of "doing something about it" should not be motivated by a type of self-hate. It should be motivated by a love for my creator who dwells in me and whom I, to a certain extent, represent. At least to the folks around me.

Think about it. If I am depressed or upset by criticism, if I allow my popularity to dictate my mood, if I come in to work depressed because I'm not in favor with the boss this week (which is what happened this morning and what prompted me to write this post), a very clear picture forms in the minds of my co-workers. "oh, she is no different from us."

BUT If I cheerfully accept criticism as feedback, if I smile on everyone no matter how they treat me, and if I take care of myself not out of self-hate but out a love for God, a very different picture comes across.

I want to be that second picture.

Para las seis y media ya estábamos allí, entrando a la jaula más cercana al escenario. El concierto empezaba a las 22.00. Sin embargo, aquello nos sirvió para estar hablando tranquilamente y coger un poco más de sol, ya que el día de ayer fue maravilloso.

El comienzo del concierto fue atronador y pronto comprendí el porqué se le denomina "el Jefe" del rock & roll. Su puesta en escena, la complicidad con la banda, la intensidad, la cercanía con el público y demás cuestiones que los fans suelen agradecer de corazón, aquel concierto de ayer fue una inyección contínua de adrenalina.

Hoy es el día en el que me rindo a su mito y recomiendo a todo el mundo que si tienen oportunidad que vayan a ver uno de los mejores conciertos que van a ver en su vida. Ese gran hombre, con 59 años, es el exponente de una generación que aun no ha muerto y que mueve a masas de todas las generaciones. Es el Boss, y yo por lo menos, de ayer en adelante, no lo volveré a poner en duda.

Gracias Bruce!

The Red Hot Chili Peppers were one of the first rock groups I really really liked and this is one of my favorite tracks from them. Love the drums in this and from Anthony Kedis' gestures in the video, I think he likes the drums too. If you recall, Detroit emcee Boss started off her early 90's hit, Deeper, with that "I don't really wanna feeeeel" melody. Anywho, enjoy.

1) Ca sa fii cocalar adevarat trebuie sa vorbesti ca un cocalar adevarat. Urmeaza pasii de aici, ciumpalacule.

2) Ia-ti un nume shukar. Daca esti baiat trebuie sa fii "boss", "mafiotu", "sefu", "gigolo", "versat". Daca esti fata tre sa te intitulezi "printzesa", "gagica", "campioana".

3) Tre sa asculti ori manele ori rap/hip-hop ori dance/house. Depinde de ce fel de cocalar vrei sa fii.

4) Imbracaminte: [in afara de treningul cu "teneşi", care e universal]

Incaltaminte: -pentru "bossi": adidasi (luati din obor, cu firma "abibas" sau "puna") ca sa nu se vada jegu sau pantofi cu varf, stralucitori; pentru "campioane": şlapi, papuci, sau "abibaşi puna" tot negri ca sa nu distingi jegul.

Pe picioare: -"versatii" tre sa poarte pantaloni LARGI cu turul MARE, blue-jeans marca "copilul minune" sau "50 cent" din obor sau de la 38, taiati sau care arata rapciugos :)) -pt printzese: colanti sau pantaloni FOARTE stramti, mai mult sau mai putin transparentzi, sa se vada suncile, sau pantaloni scurti sa se vada "portocalele"

Pe corp: -tricouri pe care sa scrie MARE "dalce & gaddana" sau "arnami"; tricouri cu sclipici mult. pt campioane, tricouri cu model de leopard, sau orice altceva ce lasa la vedere colaceii, si alte chestii d-astea

Accesorii: -LANŢ MARE. Cat de mare? Cat de mare poti. Mai mare ca cele pentru caine... daca poti ceva ce e de ajuns sa tina in loc si un tren... Eventual mai multe.

-Ochelari de soare. Cat de mari pot fi! Trebuie purtati tot timpul.  Si e necesar sa aiba pe laterala litere MARI "D&G" sau "BOSS" sau alte d-astea.

-Bratari si inele multe. Cu cat mai multe cu atat mai bine. Ce daca arăţi ca un şaman?

-Curea mare cu catarama "D&G" sau "BOSS".

5) Parul: -baieti: vopsit in una sau mai multe culori. Stil: lung cu breton ca de emo SAU lung de 10 centimetri, pe parti scurt de cativa mm SAU creasta improvizata SAU scurt ca la puscarie SAU combinatii ale celor de mai sus. -fete: nu prea e vreun stil specific.

6) Pe unde sa umbli in special: la toate concertele organizate de primarie, la meciuri - oricat de neimportante sunt; şaormeria din colţ, la clubu de manele, la caminu cultural si in mall sa te vada lumea ce "shukar" esti.

7) Trebuie sa mananci neaparat shaorma, seminte, bere la 2L si mici.

8) Trebuie neaparat sa ai pagina de hi5. Cat mai roz, cat mai incarcata cu slide-uri, widgeturi si alte tampenii, si cu cat mai multe poze. Ce fel de poze? Poze facute in baie, cu masina vecinului, cu toate locurile in care ai fost, poze cu tine pe WC, poze cu toti prietenii tai, poze cu tine in pozitii acrobatice, poze cu tine in pozitii stupide, etc.

In final #9: atitudinea. Cand mergi pe strada si in locurile de la #6, trebuie sa fii mai mândru decat ar trebui, şmecher şi neam prost. Trebuie sa iti pui la telefon melodiile preferate de la guţă, paraziţii sau ce altceva asculţi, cat de tare se poate auzi (nu conteaza ce le place altora, tu esti shukar adevarat). Pt baieti: tre sa umblati in haite, sa va luati de toti pe care ii intalniti (numai in grup, singuri faceti pe voi de frica) iar la vederea unei fete sa deveniti animale si sa incepeti sa rageti "hei gagica" sau "fataaa, vezi ca lu asta ii place de tine". Pt fete: tot in grup se merge... trebuie si sa barfiti incontinuu, oriunde ati fi.

Trebuie sa fii prost, incult si idiot, desigur :)) ... Numai asa esti complet, si oricum, numai un prostovan mare indeplineste toate conditiile de mai sus, ca daca esti destept nu ajungi asa.

Later edits: Ca cocalar(ă) e normal sa strigi pe strada cat de tare poti "băăă" sau "făăă". E necesar si sa iti pui cercei pe unde poti (indiferent ca esti baiat sau fata), sa te tatuezi, si la baieti: modele, cuvinte, dungi rase in cap.

Multumiri: Dictionarurban.ro, Gigel.org + LaVey & TitiP (deocamdata).

Post in continua editare, daca mai aveti chestii de adaugat, va invit sa comentati si eu adaug aici.

If that doesn't work I just ignore whatever she wanted me to do until I leave because I'm a temp so who cares? : )

With Alotta Love,

zee zee cakes

La cosa va tipos con carisma, la cosa va de leyendas, la cosa va de dinosaurios, en buen estado, eso sí.

Ahi va el de Boss, que este tambien me sabe mal perdermelo, pero viendo el mediatico idílio con Barcelona, en nada lo tendremos por aquí, además, que el FIB es el FIB.

Concierto en Helsinki el viernes pasado. Tela marinera

Out In The Street
Radio Nowhere
Hungry Heart
Spirit In The Night
Summertime Blues
Sherry Darling
4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)
I’ll Work For Your Love
Candy’s Room
Youngstown
Murder Incorporated
The Promised Land
She’s The One
Livin’ In The Future
Mary’s Place
Point Blank
The Rising
Last To Die
Long Walk Home
Born In The U.S.A.
Badlands

Girls In Their Summer Clothes
Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out
Born To Run
Rosalita
Dancing In The Dark
American Land
Santa Claus Is Coming To Town ---> ¿?
Twist And Shout

What is BOSS?

BOSS is a open platform that provide programmatic access to the complete Yahoo! Search index via an API. BOSS allows developers to take advantage of Yahoo!'s production search infrastructure and technology, combine that with their own unique assets, and create their own search experiences. While search APIs have been available for some time, BOSS removes many of the usage restrictions that have prevented other companies from using them to build innovative new search engines.

BOSS (Build your Own Search Service) is simple innovation in the search market. Every Search marketers knows that it is very hard to building a high quality, web-scale search engine. Marketers need to invest hundreds of millions of dollars in engineering, sciences and core infrastructure -- from crawling and indexing technology to relevancy and machine learning algorithms, to stuff as mundane as data centers, servers and power. Yahoo's new invention “BOSS platform” may change the search industry.

For more information on BOSS visit Yahoo Search Blog.

So I did a little digging and realized that the problem is that he's upset that I don't greet him enthusiastically enough on the days when he comes into my shared cubicle in the morning.  I apparently barely eke out a hello, or just a grunt in his general direction.

Of course I do, you jackass. Because you show up in my cube at 8:03, and I know that you're just there to check on me to make sure I got in there at the stroke of 8:00. You're cheerful and chatty, and perky and it's annoying. You have a penchant for not shutting the hell up about things and the last fucking thing I want to hear before I have my coffee is a twenty minute story of how your child did in his soccer game yesterday.  I don't give a shit.

He's a really nice guy, and I know he's just looking out for us, but I really don't appreciate the insinuation that everything is always my fault. There are other people in the office, you know, and just because they're more apt to kiss your ass doesn't mean they're any less guilty.

Then today, I had appointments at both the DMV and the gyno. What a fucking week, right?

Once again, I "set" my alarm, but I didn't save it, so I woke up an hour and a half after I should've been at work already. And of course, while I'm walking over, my boss calls me. Why do my supervisors always call RIGHT as I'm arriving, late, to work? Never before, never after. I try to apologize and tell him that I'm on my way. He didn't sound angry or anything. I don't know if it's not that big of a deal. Or they just consolidating all the evidence of why I'm the worst computer proctor ever at UCLA.

Ugh. I'll just wait for it. Hopefully I won't cry too hard in front of them.

edit: Complete overreaction on my part. My boss just dropped in and smiled and told me my apology was accepted and that the guy working in the other computer lab overslept too. Then he proceeded to check the voicemail for the computer lab phone, which no one has ever done, apparently.

"It says that this message is from May, but I have no idea what year."

We're so organized.

The Boss se hizo de rogar, empezó media hora tarde, a las 22.00, con una pequeña presentación a cargo de Javier Bardem, que salió al escenario para decir: "Tengo una pregunta del jefe, ¿hay alguién ahí fuera?". Cuya respuesta fue el rugido de la marabunta que abarrotaba el estadio, y a continuación la salida triunfal del tan esperado hijo predilecto de Nueva Jersey, con una canción poco conocida del disco "Born to Run". A pesar de que la mayoría de medios de comunicación critican la acústica del pabellón, a mi me resultó bastante buena, no a la altura del Palacio de los Deportes, pero bastante más que aceptable.

Pasaba el tiempo y Bruce no paró ni un segundo entre canción y canción, hasta que ya pasada media hora larga, se detuvo para dirigirse al público en castellano, detalle que fue de agradecer y que así le hizó ver la mayor parte de la gente asistente. En este acercamiento a los espectadores lanzó una felicitación por ser ganadores de la Eurocopa ante el delirio de todos. Fueron 2 horas recorriendo su amplio abanico de canciones, acompañado de una brillante, como siempre, E Street Band, que no desentonó en ningún momento. Pasadas las 2 horas, se retiraron del escenario, pero como siempre, en todos los conciertos, suele ser dado a pasarse de la programación estimada, volvió a salir al escenario, con casi 1 hora de bises, incluso mejor que la anterior parte del recital. Después de pasar por temas como "Mary´s Place" o "Because the night", culminó está parte con una larga y aclamada "Twist and Shout", que pusieron de moda en su día los Beatles.

En total, 3 horas, en las que no se notaron para nada sus 59 años, en las que no se notó en ningún momento su cansancio, en las que se mimetizó con el público de tal manera que en "Dancing in the dark" sacó a bailar a una niña, y en las que, por supuesto, hizo vibrar a todo el estadio.
Sinceramente, es el mejor concierto que le he visto, y con diferencia, el mejor concierto que he visto hasta el momento.

Aquí una pequeña muestra gráfica de la noche musical, en la que estuvimos acompañados, por una luna llena, que hacía más especial si cabe, esa noche tan esperada en la que el Jefe pasó por Madrid.

______________________________________________________________________

Adam Goodman is the President of The Victory Group, the company I completed my internship with. He is the creative mastermind who has stretched my mind to new levels of thinking and imagining. For my last day of my internship-for-credit, I decided an interview with Adam would balance well with my thoughts of this internship.

After making the final disclaimer changes to a 30-second commercial, Adam and I sat down to discuss the value of internships and what it really takes to survive in this field.

I am going to put this one out in straight Q & A style because his words are so powerful by themselves.

Ashley: Have you ever completed an internship?

Adam: Yes. I worked for a summer with a D.C.-based film crew traveling the nation. I did everything from getting lunch to equipment to planning for the next shoot. It was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had.

Ashley: Would you recommend an internship to someone? Why?

Adam: Yes. One of the best teachers is hands-on experience to learn what you can do, what you like to do and to learn about yourself. It allows you to test your limits, overcome obstacles, feel success and failure and have to deal with it all. You will use those lessons down the road and they will count for more.

Ashley: How closely do education and personality correlate with success? Does one prove superior to the other?

Adam: That is the big question of life. You need elements of both to succeed. You can be learned but not wise. You can be capable but not able to communicate it. If you have a terrific personality but can’t follow through, you can’t make it. There is some convergence between education and personality that leads to success.

Ashley: What qualities do you look for when bringing someone into your company?

Adam: Interest because without interest it just becomes work. Determination because without determination you won’t get 100 percent. Discipline in terms of measuring up to responsibilities and expectations.

Ashley: What lesson or trait have you found most valuable in your career?

Adam: Patience and perspective. Patience to wait and allow opportunities to come to you. Perseverance to make sure you don’t quit before that pot of gold. Too often people quit, maybe it’s because they’re comfortable. Especially when you’re young, it’s hard to understand just how high the sky really is. You just have to reach for it.

He has verbally abused his employees, threatened to fire me on multiple occasions for questioning the "work" of his unqualified, overpaid incompetent wife. She has him by the balls, if he has any.

I would quit but I'm hoping the board will fire him before I have to. They really do care about our mission, but they are afraid to can this guy because if it fails without him, they could be blamed.

There is no way it could succeed with him. He isolates allies, degrades his employees, and blindly celebrates everything his wife does, even though everyone (not just me, EVERYONE) can plainly see that she doesn't know what the fuck she is doing.

I hope they get divorced and then get hit by cars.

Looks like a combination of Gravityman and Magnetman creating one super being in Ryuusei, looks promising.

anyway - something i want to do on this blog on a daily basis is to note 3 things:

1. Something that pissed me off / upset me / disappointed me - and what i did or can do about it

2. Something that i learnt

3. Something that i'm grateful for

it will help to get things into perspective i think - and make sure I keep learning. so here goes:

1. Disappointment: that of 2 people i interviewed today, neither seems suitable for the positions i desperately need to fill - i will have to keep looking

2. Learnt: that airport taxes in the middle east are less than in europe

3. Grateful: I am very grateful for the good that can come out of good relationships, and the amount of money it saved in this problem we had

and now, now i'm off to rehearsals - ciao amigos!

Boss Bitching

If you have some hostile feelings toward your boss, you can vent out all those unsaid emotions here. (Evil grin) Boss Bitching is a user driven social content website that allows anonymous postings of stories about bosses. Visitors to Boss Bitching will read and rate posts. The posts that receive the most attention via the ratings will get promoted to the front page. Do you feel like bitching about your boss now?

Wordie

For people like us, who makes a life on writing or who loves to write and read. Wordie is definitely for you. How does it works? Wordie is basically like Flicker only you submit words.

Wordie lets you make lists of words and phrases. Words you love, words you hate, words on a given topic, whatever. Lists are visible to everyone but can be added to by just you, a group of friends, or anyone, as you wish. You can also join discussions, add citations and comments to words and lists. See who else has listed the same words. Submit a word now!

Listen to a Movie

This is one of the greatest niche on the net. I work 8 hours a day, starring mostly at my computer. I write write write and my only amusement at work is listening to radioblogclub. Now, I have a new form of amusement and it is listening to movies. Listen to a movie lets you listen to the audio part of movies and some TV programs. You also have to love the tag line, "For the cubicle workers of the world". Go and listen to a movie now. (Currently listening to Knocked up)

Urban Dictionary

Hilarious (and practical) 100% user-maintained dictionary where users provide and vote on definitions for urban words (slangs). This will certainly make my word-for-the-day contribution exciting and fun (Just so you guys know, we have our daily "word-for-the-day" in our department). Expand your slang vocabulary.

Via Talk Free Connect

If you need to make a free qucik call in the US or Canada, you can use this. Enter your area code and phone number in addition to the digits you’d like to dial. Get talking and enjoy up to 10 minutes of talk time. It’s on them!

My previous delay pedal (which will now be temporarily renting a home on eBay) was a Boss DD-20. A brilliant pedal with pretty much every delay flavor available and over 20 seconds of delay time! However I didn't need all its features and as a result pinned my hopes on the now 'last week' DD-6, or its little brother the DD-3.

I found myself once again making the mistake of wandering into a guitar shop. Hoping the DD-6 may be down in price considering the new kid on the block. While I'm all for a good deal I had to see what the new pedal had to offer, and while all fundamental delay duties are covered this is quite a clever little box.

I'd always toyed with the idea of getting one of those loop stations. You know? The boxes which record your playing then you can play over the recorded 'rhythm' track or add more loops for a bigger sound. These pedals on their own can cost a lot, but the DD-7 will record up to 40 seconds of audio (20 seconds stereo) when required. While you of course lose the delay in favor of a loop, the fact this pedal is technically two pedals in one is just plain awesome.

I've always enjoyed the fact I can get my pedals to do more than they were meant for. My flange pedal works as a subtle chorus and even a tremolo. My overdrive pedal can be used as a simple volume booster, and don't get me started on what the pitch shifter can do!

Anyway it's all about value for money, which is what I believe you get with this pedal. Getting back to the delay side of things it has more than enough options time length wise. There's also a reverse delay, a modulating delay and an analog effect delay. Pretty much every desirable delay 'sound' lives in there, and while it might seem like overkill at first, once you realise how much it can do it all becomes worth it.

You can also tap tempo and attach an expression pedal or external stomp box (again for tap tempo). Attaching the expression pedal will adjust the volume of your recorded loops, perfect when you want to finish without a clumsy miss-stomp, or you could even fade out slowly like an album recording if you so desire!

As a musician who predominately writes songs on an acoustic guitar, there is always the task of playing songs on my own,. Recently I performed at a great little bar in Hayle, Cornwall called The Salt Bar. With the ability to set up a subtle backing track at the end of a song and perform some Pat Metheny-esk solos it made the night a lot more fun sonically.

Delay always comes in handy for thickening a sound, be it for a solo or just a subtle boost during choruses, but I don't think I'll have to buy another delay pedal for a long time after getting this one... unless I dunno, they put lasers on it and it can transform into a car or something. Yeah I'd buy that!

"A baseball game?" Tom asked, recoiling.
"Yes."
"Wouldn't you rather hear a novel reading? Or anything else at all?"
"Another day, Tom."

This did nothing but contribute to Tom's frustration, which had become a theme as of late.  Tom Drake loathed sports.  But he loathed emptiness more.  The void that he felt manifested itself as a consciousness of the absense of so many moments which so easily can be taken for granted.  The easy laughter of a wine-infused dinner.  The summer breeze caressing one's cheek like a woman's soft hand.  The rich, full breath when longing lips meet longing lips.   

Emptiness and loneliness often came together, but the worst emptiness was that which Tom felt even when surrounded by people.  He tried relentlessly to keep smiling, keep moving, keep grinding along.  But the mania he maintained during the workday gave way to overwhelming exhaustion when he returned home. Time was not really his own anymore. Practically every minute of his day belong to someone else.

He drank more than usual, a surprising twist since alcohol had never really appealed to Tom since the days in his freshman dorm when he blacked out on a regular basis. Now, it was not unusual for him to take Tylenol immediately upon waking each morning, to attempt to silence the thud of his bloated brain from abusing him.

The baseball game which had trumped Tom's plans for the afternoon was just the sort of thing that induced some of Tom's greatest fury, particularly games scheduled for a weekday afternoon or evening. He did not lament missing the novelist, nor his friend's company. He did lament the clogging of the city's arteries and subsequent sickening gridlock. 

Tom chomped chewing gum and gnashed his teeth and tapped his foot and his heart pounded all the way home as the bus crept its way north.  But by the time his few moments of freedom finally arrived, all his strength had left him.  He shuffled home.  On either side of the path, flowers bloomed in abundance, brilliant colors of crimson and cream, azure and violet and bright gold.  The city air even smelled fresh for a change, the flowers' aromas mingling with the familiar scent of freshly-cut grass.  Tom remembered the latter fragrance fondly from childhood.

When he finally arrived at his apartment, he tiredly removed the day's armor: blue-gray Valentino shirt, navy tie and slacks, brown shoes. Then he stood back, admiring the wardrobe. As debt had accumulated across a swath of credit cards, Tom Drake's closet finally --fleetingly-- satisfied him.

Hanging with appropriate spacing behind two wide bi-fold doors, Tom's clothes struck awe into his guests when they found themselves privileged enough to see them. A dozen and a half ties hung from a tie rack in the center. Shelves housed his dress blacks and browns, which he had polished weekly.

All the beautiful shirts hung, boasting their fine, woven cloth: brilliant whites and blues and the lavender stripes and the solids and the occasional orange mixed with shiny cream. Suits cut by Boss, Valentino and Zegna in shades of black, navy and gray.  As for trousers, his favorite pair had been designed by John Varvatos.  Tom wore flat-front, never pleated.  The very sight of them was enough to roll his eyes involuntarily. 

"Is this what you wanted?"  The voice belonged to no one in particular.  The sad and present reality Tom had begun to grasp was that his beautiful wardrobe was not infallable.  The shirts could stain.  The pants could wrinkle.  The ties could fray.  It seemed to Tom that his life could now be measured entirely by the putting on and taking off of clothes. First thing in the morning.  Prior to entering the steam room to sweat away the hangover.  Before his workout.  And after he arrived home, like now.  He thought of all of this as he faced the closet, and a wave of emotion siezed him so hard that he shook.  A shudder that ripped through his whole body, like chills and aches bound into one rolling force. 

This was one of those times in life in which not a single thing is certain.  Each morning brings more questions than answers, and those questions pile up higher and higher until the only emotion truly able to be felt is anxiety.  It grows and grows like a tumor, sucking the sustenance from the healthy feelings once known: friendship, empathy, love.

Looking at himself in the mirror had once been the source of some of his greatest joy.  Despite the implied vanity or connotation others might ascribe to the practice, Tom did not believe himself to be especially attractive, but he attempted to be at peace with that, for a while.  Occasionally he would actually believe he was attractive, and in those moments, when the sun had tanned him just right, or the pupils in his dark eyes dialated, he would gaze into the mirror and smile.

But now. 

But now when he looked into the mirror and saw those empty eyes, he wanted to fall, wanted to fail, wanted to weep.  Then, he did.   And when it was over, he pulled himself up.  Through blurry eyes, he caught his reflection in the mirror: red and splotchy, worried and weak.

"Jesus," he gasped.  "What have I done to myself?"

I fear I might have said too much. But then for some things, the information is out there, so there is nothing to hide.

In any case, I am still just a person way below the ladder to be noticed. And I would prefer to stay that way.

And I also think that mistreating interns is really, really bad.

One day, the karma of being evil to them will get back, and trust me, it is always never nice to know that all of it resulted from bullying.

Things like this are just so not worth it.

In any case, my boss is back tomorrow and I think all hell shall break loose.