"Takin what they're givin 'cause I'm workin for a living" --Huey Lewis and the News

"I can't believe they pay me as much as they do for the amount of work I do."

"They don't pay me anywhere near enough for the aggravation I have to endure."

These are the two thoughts that are constantly playing out in my brain when I am at work.*

Constantly. With no middle ground.

It's as if someone said to you, "I'm going to pay you $500 for every comment you write on blogs." Would you take the job? Sure! But what if they neglected to mention that while you were typing in those comments there would be a turkey pecking you in the side while a recorded message played of someone shouting, "I'M NOT TOUCHING YOU!!!"10,000 times per hour? Would you keep the job? And if you did, wouldn't you be toggling between "I can't believe they pay me as much as they do for the amount of work I do" and "They don't pay me anywhere near enough for the aggravation I have to endure" constantly?

This has been going on with me for 25 years. It's staggering. Seriously. This past month marked TWENTY. FIVE. YEARS. And I never, at any point, imagined I'd be with my organization for more than 5 years, tops. Because they don't pay me anywhere near enough for the aggravation I have to endure. Yet, I can't believe they pay me as much as they do for the amount of work I do.

Compound question du jour for the worker bees: Can you believe how much they pay you for the work that you do? Or is it no where near enough for the aggravation you have to endure? Or both?

While the turkey was on break (Wonder how much he makes? Probably nowhere near enough for the aggravation he has to endure...), I snuck off to happy hour last week. And it was an epic happy hour!** In addition to a few non-bloggy friends, there were former bloggers: Just JP, A Jersey Kid, and Gilahi, and a number of current bloggy friends were in attendance:

LiLu
Brutalism
Malnurtured Snay
Blond with a bullet...
Always a drunk, never a bride


Eleven of us cozied up around a table at Vapiano's and it was lovely. My thanks to those that made the trek from hither and yon. Great time! You people are tops!




*Well, that, and the eternal Gilligan's Island question. Yup... Who names their child Gilligan?

**The kids still say "epic", right? And "groovy"?

"Hangin' on to the good times" -- Little Feat

You know how in high school, you threw a party and suddenly all the coolest kids from your class were showing up at your house and you couldn't believe your good fortune because it turned into the best party ever? Yeah, me, neither.

Well, yesterday, I threw a little happy hour and the coolest kids in the blogosphere actually did show up! And I am still amazed.

I got to hang out with the wonderful people behind the following terrific blogs (in no particular order):

Urban Bohemian
Charlotte Harris
"It's Toasted" (the B half)
The Restaurant Refugee
Sean's Ramblings
A Daily Dose of Zen Sarcasm!
The Gilahi Blog
The Chronicles of Tewkesbury
Culinary Couture
Live it, Love it
Who Invented Roses
(That's Why) The Lady Is A Tramp

These are extraordinarily good people. Gracious, funny, interesting, and a good looking bunch! If you ever get the chance to meet them, do it!

To these fantastic pals: I had a great time and I thank all of you for showing up and shining so bright.

I'll be the one with her hands in front of her face shouting "No pictures!"

This is a special note to the DC-area locals:

I've met a few of you, and so far so good.*

Lately, I've been playing with the idea of organizing a happy hour.

Why?

• I like happy hours.
• I like meeting people.**
• Life is short.
  

If you are interested in this, drop me a note (it can be as simple as "I'm in") at lacochran812(at)gmail(dot)com. As organized as I've gotten: ...a bar in DC, some time in November.

Note on being cool: With regards to identity disclosure, well, that's your call. I'll show discretion if you will. I'm not about to "out" you to any mutual acquaintances and I'm even willing to call you "Great Baboo" if that's how you want to be known.

Yes, if you're local and reading this, you're invited.

So, who's up for a meet up?

-L.A.



* I know. Like you were just waiting for my approval to make your life complete.

** Unless you're completely self-involved, flea-infested, or icky.