'Dega Delay

Kevin Harvick swept Phoenix last weekend...







...and this weekend's race at Talladega was postponed until tomorrow because of rain. I'm so bummed, nothing would have been better to do while I was sick than watch a great race.

Thank goodness for nascar.com while I'm at work. JDM

Sick of it all

I knew the goddamn auction had it in for me. Never has an event whooped my ass like this one. I started feeling bad on Sunday night, and by Tuesday night after The Event (thinking I had made it through without any real battle scars, silly me) I had lost my voice completely. Well, it still hasn't returned and now I'm full-blown flu/bronchitis sick. I even went to the doctor. I never go to the doctor. Maybe that's my problem. But I've only ever been sick this long one other time in my entire life, and that was about 4 years ago on a trip back home. I'm sick of tv, I'm sick of being on the computer, and I'm desperately sick of not being able to sleep because of coughing fits. Thank God tomorrow I get to fill my prescription of cough medicine with codeine. Yay for codeine. JDM

C'est fini!

Thank God it's over. I never want to see another bid sheet as long as I live. JDM

My auction is tomorrow!

Monday Morning Humor

I worked 18 hours on Friday, stressed out about my upcoming auction all weekend, and somehow ended up sick on Sunday night. But even through my foggy Sudafed-induced haze, this made me laugh.

Nothing is Safe

I just saw one of these for the first time while driving:

Yes, my friends, we put blinking lights everywhere in this town!

It's here...

www.mirage.com

www.cirquedusoleil.com/LOVE

Speak For Yourself

I really don't feel like writing about this weekend.

Instead, I'll tell you that I've just discovered Imogen Heap. Haven't made it through the entire CD yet, but I can already tell you it will be in rotation for a while. I love discovering new music.

Also downloaded The Fray, Jem, and P!nk's new album. Gotta feed the iPod every now and then... :)

JDM

3 Seasons of Vegas: Hot. Windy. Or Both.

Tomorrow's forecast:


Hi 88 F Lo 62 F


Almost 90 degrees, good lord. I should mention, however, that in the same breath the weather dude mentioned thunderstorms for Friday. Uh huh, sure. The last time they prepared us for a "big storm", we all watched their shocked expressions as the clouds mockingly moved right around the edge of the valley all weekend. I think they measured .01" of rain.

JDM

Butcher, Baker, Candlestick-maker...

Between the time I leave for work tomorrow and the time I return, visiting my house will be: my realtor, my handyman, my pest control guy, and my plumber. Recently, it seems other people spend more time I my house than I do.

I cannot WAIT to move.

P.S. American Idol still sucks. I contend that I only still watch it out of habit.

Paperwork Fairy.

I wish. There doesn't seem to be and end in sight.

Soon, the amount of paper on my desk will just swallow me whole.

JDM

New & Improved.

Hey, if it means more top 5 finishes and winning more races, I'm all for it. Oh, and that last-lap crash by Kenseth at Martinsville? Can you say K-A-R-M-A?

But wait, there's more...

I just have to vent on how LAME American Idol is this season.

Even the good contestants are not that great, and they're all HORRIBLE at picking the right songs for themselves. I adore Mandisa's personality, but she should kill her wardrobe stylist for tonight's outfit. Taylor's one of my favorites (which isn't saying much this season) but he was boring where he could have been amazing with this genre of music. And Paris had the same blind wardrobe person as Mandisa, apparently. Kelly walks a fine line between endearingly naive and annoyingly retarded. Then there's Bucky. I HATE Bucky. How he grunts his way into the hearts of every platinum blonde, 4-inch dark-rooted trailer trash girl voting with her pay-as-you-go phone each and every week is beyond me.

And the judges. The judges. More specifically, Randy and Paula. Every week it's the same: Randy will over-use the word "dog" in a desperate attempt to be even close to the same age as any of the contestants. Then he'll name-drop every has-been singer he's worked with as he reminisces about the days when he actually had something to do with music.

Paula. First of all, has anyone noticed she claps like a seal when Seacrest announces her name at the beginning of the show? How drugged up is this woman? You can practically hear her thinking "Oh, goody! When the show's over I get more Vicodin!" And she says the SAME THING to every contestant: "You know what I love about you? Blah blah blah... " And then her eyes just glaze over as she takes a sip of whatever's mixed into that Coca-Cola cup.

How great was it, though, when Simon totally outed Seacrest with that Desperate Housewives reference? And the award for most awkward-looking kiss goes to....

Hey Ryan, if you don't want everyone to know, you probably shouldn't be kissing Teri Hatcher in front of Us Weekly photographers. Just a thought. Wait, isn't Seacrest gay? Wait a minute, he lost the highlights! Should've been our first clue.

Anyway, I'd watch tomorrow to see who gets cut, but I'm just not sure I care.

Clearing room in my brain for important stuff.

We sold the house today. Wow that makes it real, huh? The buyer is the investor who I fondly refer to as "jackass." But "jackass" offered us full asking price, and really, who says no to that?

I want my highlights back. I can really only go one season with single-color hair.

I haven't taken a lunch or left work on time in two days.

I slept on the couch last night because it was cooler (and strangely, more comfortable), than my bed, but tonight I'm sitting here cold with a sweater on. Weather in Vegas is strange. Seriously, the wind sounds like it's going to break through my window.

I really, really miss home.

Priorities.

Since I heard about Liz, nothing else seems that important anymore. We're down to four people in my department, I planned a luncheon tomorrow for over 100 people including all of our executives, the charity auction I'm working on is now 3 weeks away, and my house is still for sale. But all I can think of is that next phone call from my mom telling me how Liz is doing. I'm starting to resent all the little things keeping me from driving home to see her.