I have a mosquito bite on the knuckle of my left pinky finger, as well as on my left inner thigh. These are both very awkward places for mosquito bites - difficult to scratch (in general or in public) and annoying as crap. They’re the big welt-like ones, which I surmise means that the mosquitos took a nice drink of me.

I got home about half an hour ago after attending a work party in NYC. It was held at The Frying Pan, a restaurant on Pier 63 in New York, right near the Chelsea Piers. It was pretty cool - both literally and figuratively. The breeze off the water was the only thing that kept me from fainting from the heat - it brought things down to a balmy 80 degrees or so. The food was pretty good, too - really great ribs, NICE fried calamari, and some good chicken wings, too. The ribs and calamari were my favorite bits of yummy, though.

It was a long day, but a pleasant one - and I got to drive my co-workers into NYC with me in my air-conditioned car, rather than making us all take the PATH and subway on a day when the heat index made it feel like over 110 degrees Fahrenheit.

The only annoying things were the weird little men who wanted to talk to me at the event. No, it wasn’t a convention of little people or anything. It just seems that the attention that I get from males (more often than not - or, rather, when I get attention at all) is from this one sort of stereotypical-middle-aged-comic-book-store-fat-and-balding type of guy. There were two at the event tonight who struck up conversation and wouldn’t leave me be… and several of my co-workers noticed, and tried to rescue me, but it was difficult since the dudes just kept talking. Ugh. The one insisted that we’d worked together last summer - I told him I didn’t think so, but he insisted. I didn’t get a chance to tell him it was impossible (since I didn’t start working at this new job until October - and because I would have NO reason to interact with him since I’m not in PR) because he started to do the “I’m so busy and get so much email, but your name stood out!” thing. So as he was radiating this bullshit, I had to sort of smile and nod and wait until he stopped to take a breath so I could excuse myself. Unfortunately, since it was a work function, I couldn’t call him out on his bullshit and tell him off.

After the party, I drove my boss and my cubicle neighbor to the appropriate subway station, and then dropped off another co-worker buddy at her apartment in Hoboken (since I had to get back into Hoboken anyway, more or less, to get on the road home).

Since I was sort of tired and on auto-pilot after I dropped her off - as well as singing along to Fischerspooner’s “Emerge” - I sort of went the wrong way and got a little lost in Jersey City, then Secaucus. I followed signs for a detour that would lead me to Route 3, and found myself in the truck depot/loading dock/parking for some shipping company. I doubled back to see if I missed something or if the sign was turned around, but the bright orange detour arrows and signs (all four of them!) indeed pointed to the truck lot I found myself driving into. There was no exit, no road, no nothing. HOWEVER, there were some gigantic potholes and I just barely missed one - and totally expected my tire to blow out. I cussed to myself and then asked myself an important question: “Where the F*** am I????”

I turned around, followed the road back out as well as I could and saw a sign for Route 3, entirely obscured by foliage on the right side of the road. I was driving 15 miles an hour at this point since I was still kind of lost and in a carless area (creepy, but OK) so it’s sort of good that I was because I would’ve missed the sign otherwise.

After an unintended 30 minute detour, I finally got back onto Route 3 and made my way home. Changed into pajama pants. Ate some dinner. Drank some milk. Checked email. Opened new Netflix. Flipped through new issue of Time. Considered washing off eye makeup but I sweated most of it off and I’m just too damn tired and lazy to take care of it. So there. I’m a rebel and I’ll never ever be any good.