18 Inches

If I remember correctly -- or I could have made this up -- there is an invisible bubble with an 18 inch radius around each of us. It encompasses our personal space. Maybe for some people, the bubble is smaller, and for some I'm sure its diameter is even wider. However, most of us know the moment that bubble has been breached. For some reason, if someone we don't normally allow in our personal spaces decides to move within that 18 inches, we sense it immediately. Personally, I instantly feel my shoulders tense up, and my jaw clenches. It's as if I'm bracing for an imminent invasion. While I could be an extreme case (which I doubt), I know I'm not the only one who reacts this way; check your own response. Given the universality of this experience, it completely blows my mind when idiots get on an almost empty elevator with me and proceed to invade my 18 inches when they could be taking up space several feet away from me.

Of course I'm "here," I just went around the corner for waffles...

While I am not crazy about my job per se, I always enjoyed working with AuntieM, who totally rocks. And, of course, the special agent is a pretty great guy. Assisting in saving the world economy is not a bad gig, all things considered. However, now that AuntieM is gone, I have to put up with the other nuts in this place all by myself. Her "replacement," Miss Punctuality, is certainly no substitute, and furthermore, she seems to be on a mission to get me fired.

It's no secret that I can't be counted on to arrive on time for anything unless my life (or my voice) depends on it. I'm reasonably punctual for lessons, auditions, rehearsals, and the like, but showing up at the office on time (whatever that means now) is a completely different matter. I have a terrible time waking up in the morning, and the fact that I kind of abhor life in the financial services industry doesn't exactly spur me onward towards the office. I do make an effort if I know that the special agent may need my help before 9:00am, but otherwise, my beauty sleep (and my vocal health!) takes precedence.

However, although everyone seems to know that I'm rarely at my desk at 9am (or even 9:30am lately), I don't think it's appropriate to broadcast this fact, which Miss Punctuality does on a regular basis. Is she trying to teach me a lesson? Is she trying to make the special agent angry with me? Why does she persist in telling anyone who calls for me or stops by before I come in that I have not made it to work yet (emphasis hers)? What is to be gained from this? Can't she just say that I'm not at my desk? Or that I've run out to get breakfast? While I realize that I should just suck it up and get up in the morning, she should learn that it doesn't pay to make your colleagues look bad -- especially when you don't know how to do their jobs and would be completely screwed if they got fired. Which probably won't happen, but still -- I don't want the special agent to become unhappy with me. She told him at 10:15 that I wasn't in YET, and I have a feeling that I will receive a stern 90 second lecture when he returns from his current mission.

Speaking of missions, it has not been a good week thus far for the special agent. He's run into some pretty icky snares lately. Canceled flights, UPS bungles, stolen toiletries -- it hasn't been pretty. To top it off, we discovered this morning while he was waiting for yet another delayed flight to a far off land (destination TOP SECRET), that someone had cloned his cell phone and run up a large bill in the thousands -- probably by making calls to Namibia or Nigeria. Needless to say, he is not a happy camper today, and I don't think that being told that I wasn't in yet at 10:15am did anything to help his temperment. And really, the Number 1 Most Important Task of an assistant to a superspy is making sure that said secret agent is in a good mood. The economy depends on me, and I cannot fail!

Rookie of the Year

First of all, congratulations to DJ and Eric on the birth of their little cowgirl! They are sure to be the best rookie parents of the year and deserve all kinds of accolades and accompanying brouhaha. However, the title of this post refers to the New York Liberty's Sherill Baker, and if you have not seen her play, you need to find a way to get to Madison Square Garden and cheer her on. She's phenomenal!

My sister, Citizen-C, also a capable baller, is Sherill's biggest fan. She and Sherill's older brother were classmates and friends, and C-Lovely and Sherill used to play pickup games when Sherill was just in junior high (but still dominated anyone who dared step on her court). C wore #22, which Sherill adopted for her own in high school, and after Sherill's amazing performance at GACS, the number was retired. When I moved back to Atlanta and started teaching voice at the school, Sherill was playing varsity. Ever the basketball lovers, my family and I cheered her on at almost every game. C was Sherill's staunchest supporter, and we traveled to Macon to watch her dominate in the state tournament and lead her team to a championship (or two?). C and I were also front and center at the Naismith Awards, at which Sherill was named Miss Georgia Basketball. We even made the trek to Chattanooga for the Georgia/Tennessee girls basketball allstar game, for which C had made her own "Go Sherill" T-shirt.

Fast forward a few years. Sherill has finished up school at UGA (where she broke records and performed impressively in spite of the fact that Andy Landers didn't really know what to do with her), and like me, she's found her way to New York. Unlike me, she was drafted by a WNBA team and has a job doing what she loves. Also unlike me, she has an agent!!! Who gets her work in Italy!!! Anyway, while I wish that my operatic career more closely paralleled her basketball career, it is an undeniable fact that Sherill Baker rocks! And I, wearing my autographed Sherill Baker Liberty #10 Jersey, am going to see her play tomorrow night at Madison Square Garden! She is amassing some pretty amazing buzz and some impressive stats, and tomorrow is the last chance to vote to send her to the WNBA AllStar Game (which you can bet I will do). She's definitely my vote for WNBA Rookie of the Year, and all I can say is that the special agent had better get me a ticket to the Beijing 2008 Olympics. I'm betting that Sherill could be on her way to that milestone, too.