catheroominations

July 7, 2007

I’d like to jump on the bandwagon, but it left the station long ago.

The West Wing. Why did I never watch this show when it was on? Even though it won a bajillion Emmys, and a close friend who always watches the best shows told me I should get into it, I didn’t. Until I watched Studio 60 I did not know the talent of Tommy Schlame and Aaron Sorkin. And then, just as I was getting hooked, NBC canceled Studio 60, and I was left wanting more.

So Matte dug out his DVD copies of Season 1 of The West Wing. I was an instant fan, with the first episode. I’m not much into politics, but I got sucked into the inner workings of the TV version of the Oval Office. I wondered if our own president is as friendly and humble with his staff as the fake one, Jed Bartlet is. I got caught up in the relationships the President Bartlet had with Toby, Josh, Donna, CJ, Leo, Charlie, and Sam.

And the cast? They are so pretty. Martin Sheen as president? He’s hot as far as presidents go. And oooh, Vice President Tim Matheson. Yum. (Sooo far off from real life, which I guess is the idea.) And Bradley Whitford and Rob Lowe? GAH. The eye candy in that office! Oy! Damn, would I love going to work every day if I had that to look forward to.

But Rob Lowe. Oh, Rob. I had the hugest crush on you, ever, when I was a teenager. You were it. I bought all the cheesy teeny bopper magazines just to ogle centerfolds of you. I saw all your movies: The Outsiders, Class, Hotel New Hampshire, Oxford Blues, St. Elmo’s Fire (even with a mullet…still HAWT), About Last Night, and even Illegally Yours. (Which sucked so hard, I walked out. The only movie I ever left a theatre to escape was one of yours, Rob. I’m sorry, but despite your super fineness, I just couldn’t take it.) I loved you so much, I even forgave your indiscretions and video with the underage girl in the late 80s. And you persevered. You grew up and became a husband and father, and got a job at the White House! (Oh, sorry…sometimes I forget it’s just a show.) What I mean is, you scored a gig on the multi-Emmy winning television show that was The West Wing.

I used to have a poster of Rob on the back of my bedroom door. He was in a white summery suit, with a tank top underneath. And he was ever so sultrily raising that tank top to reveal his abs. My guy friends thought Rob looked effeminate (jealous much?) but I did not care. I loved the “pretty boys” back then (Nick Rhodes from Duran Duran too). I remember being thrilled to take my babysitting money into Coach House Gifts at Oakridge Mall and get my luscious poster. I probably also bought a weepul, and some Mad Libs.

Eventually, I decided I had outgrown Rob, and I removed the poster one day, replacing it with a black and white poster of a shirtless man in partially unbuttoned jeans that was captioned “Not all men are created equal” or something similar. (How did my mom let me have that?!)

Now The West Wing has rekindled my teenage lust for Rob and makes me really want to ask Matte if I can get this and put it in our second bathroom:

You are still such a total babe, Rob. To the max.

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Texting from the Social Security Administration while waiting to change my last name

Yesterday I took a trip downtown to take the first step in changing my last name, a visit to the Social Security office. Once my Social Security card says my new name, I can update my records at work, change my driver’s license information, and get the bank updated. Then I can change my credit cards, memberships, and who knows what else.

I figured the place would be deserted with so many people on family vacations for the 4th plus it was a Friday and most offices are slow on a Friday. I got there right when they opened though, just to be safe. But first, I had to have my purse and body scanned, and find the restroom. I walked into the office at just before 9:10, and saw about 8 people waiting. Not too bad. I walked to the kiosk and grabbed a number in the ‘C’ group. People in the C group had quickies. The C people only needed to change information on their Social Security card, like a name, for instance. Piece of cake, right?

Nope. Thankfully I had my Crackberry with me so I could read my Gmail, blogs, and text my husband.

9:09 am How am I number C300 when they are now serving #C397?
9:21 am Someone is clipping their nails in the Social Security office waiting room! Gross!
9: 32 am Well, there WERE 2 windows open. Now there is just 1. Sigh. I guess 20 minutes of work is enough for a break.
9:58 am Now they are not calling numbers in order, fuckers.
10:01 am I am about to give up.
10:04 am It is a waste of time. There are about 50 people waiting now and ONE window open.
10:08 am They have 7 windows closed.
10:13 am The lady next to me keeps nodding off and her head is hitting my shoulder.
10:21 am Standing room only now. Gotdamn lazy ass government.
10:23 am I’d better get an iPhone when I reach the window for this wait.
10:35 am We are up to three open windows now. But they are still skipping all numbers that start with C. Only calling As and Bs. This is moronic.
10:46 am My turn!
10:59 am I’m officially an E……!

The entire transaction took less than 10 minutes. The clerk was very nice and not grumpy, considering all the grumps he had to help before me. He said my new card (with four names) would arrive in a couple of weeks. But this time, when I sign my card, I will not have a pen of brown ink that smells like chocolate, like I did when I was 12. If my new last name had an i though, I would be so tempted to dot it with a heart.

Next up, the Department of Motor Vehicles! Does the fun ever stop?