Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

A couple of friends from work and I went out for St. Patrick's Day drinks, and I am pleased to say that I drank two Guinness, ate some so-so crab and artichoke dip, and got even more dish about the office. I love the concept of Happy Hour, so much more so on St. Pat's Day with Irish hotties in abundance. The James Joyce Irish Pub has a very real Irish contingent, not just Irish-American. I heard the lilt of that beautiful accent all over the place.

It was packed body to body. I joked with my cohorts than one man passed by me so closely, I thought I may have gotten pregnant from the encounter.

Still more meetings at work. Like Cuba Gooding Jr. in Jerry MacGuire, I have a commitment to the truth. I've been given an opportunity to be frank, so I am. I said to my manager yesterday "You know it's bad when people start hoping the company they work for goes under...."

In other news, I found out that I am going to be seeing my new place next Friday, March 26th right before I leave Baltimore for the day to read my Poetry at my undergrad alma mater.

It's almost time for our weekly editorial powwow. I guess I should get psyched up for that.