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Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Hereís a secret Iíd like to share with you. Saturday might be the end of life as we know it. And Iím the only one with a clue (although Iím spreading the word as judiciously as possible).

The thing is this. Hereís the thing. Tim is planning a surprise birthday party for his father (the Boss) at The Kennel. I donít know the details, but itís going to be big. A lot of people have been invited. A pig is going to be roasted. Hula girls have been hired. (And those are really the only details I do know, so I wasnít lying when I said I donít know the details. Oh, except that I paid $500 for the souvenir T-shirts he plans to give away.)

This party could be a surprise for Tim, too, because the Boss is planning on being at his ex-wifeís house that day. Iíve discussed this with the ex, and also with Julie. Not together, of course, because they donít speak to each other at all. And the ex doesnít speak to Tim, even though heís her son. And Tim wonít listen to Julie, although sheís a whole lot smarter than he is.

The one person I havenít discussed this with (other than the Boss, so as not to spoil the ďsurpriseĒ) is Tim. I donít know where he is. Heís apparently very busy making plans. If he were a real party planner, Iíd be a lot more serene about this whole deal. I seriously doubt that he has any clue what he got himself into.

The Boss is going to freak, whether heís there for the party or not. Heís going to feel that things are happening beyond his control. He specifically told members of his own family that he didnít want a big birthday party. Heís also going to wonder how much this is costing. And then, somewhere down the line, heís going to find out.

Tim asked me if there was any way he could be reimbursed by the business for what heís spending on the party without the Boss finding out. He considers it a legitimate promotional expense, which might be true, but I told him there was no way the Boss wouldnít find out. He gets copies of every check I write, and if one is missing I get a note asking where it is. He follows every nickel from the mint to the scrap pile. As much as he hates surprises, he hates discrepancies even more.

Oh, yes. This is not going to be fun. And thereís nothing I can do about it. The people Iíve discussed it with donít think thereís anything they can do either, mostly because nobody can talk to Tim. He knows everything. If you tell him the world is round, heíll push you off the edge of it.

12 July 2005

More Jetson.

Of course I was invited. Of course I found a way to say no. A big party like that just isnít me. And a big party that could end the world as we know it? Iím not up for that, either.

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Omigosh, to think that the fabulous Suzie was almost booted out of the Rock Star competition tonight! Well, I know who I have to vote for next week anyway. (Actually, I donít think she was in any real danger, because I think the members of INXS love her like I do. Maybe that means I donít need to vote for her after all.)

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One year ago: Edge
"He didn't like it, but he couldn't find anything more to argue about. He knows by the sound of my voice when he's pushed me as far as I can go."

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