I was talking with my dad on my cell walking home from work tonight about the train wrecked clusterfuck that has become what I like to call my life, when I approach the door to my apartment and hear the phone inside ringing. I scramble to open the door as quickly as possible, like every New Yorker I unlock my bare minimum 2 dead bolt locks, jump inside, throw my mail on the table and dart for the bedroom phone. I pick up, take my iPod ear buds out and I hear a young man's voice mid-sentence. "Hello?" I say, the voice continues. "Who is this?" I say. The voice continues.

 

Being a proponent of automation has always been a big sell for me. I love telemarketers just as much as the next guy. Hell, the most exciting part is fucking with them about whatever credit application they want me to apply for, or BSing about what my calling plan is.

 

The call I received at 7:49 on November 24th was an automated telemarketer. This recordings sole purpose was to blurt out a few fucking useless bits of information so quickly that even if I had a pad of paper next to the phone, I wouldn't have been able to write them down. I don't think I have ever been more pissed off by an automated voice in the entirety of my existence.

 

Which brings me to my next statement on things that make me less than happy:

 

Have you ever made flight arrangements a month and a half in advance to make sure you get the ticket booked and it doesn't cost you the equivalent of a 50" plasma screen TV? I did, on October 15th I made flight arrangements to go to Atlanta for thanksgiving to see my sister, my brother, my nephew, my brother-in-law, and his family. The flight was booked to depart at noon on Wednesday, my return flight is the following Monday at 7:30pm. The ticket cost me $292.50. It's already been billed to my credit card.

 

The week of the 8th through the 17th I was in West Hollywood, CA. for a photo shoot for Miu Miu, which is a division of Prada. The photographer was Mario Testino, one of the top fashion photographers out there. I flew back from LA on Monday. I had a photo shoot with those awesome people from Maidenform Tuesday. Wednesday I am back on set with Mario traveling all around New York for American Vogue, the February 2004 issue. But it wasn't just Wednesday, lets try Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. "Hillary, (my nickname a la Mario Testino) will you ride with me to the airport so we can edit on the laptop in the car?" Luckily, Raja convinced him it would only take 10 more minutes to edit the last shot. I must say it was an awesome week though, Mario is an extremely cool person. He is demanding but loads of fun to work with.

 

Ok, so now I have pretty much memorized the layouts for the February 2004 issue of American Vogue and it doesn’t even go to print for another 2 months. This story is so important to Mario, he called and hired about two dozen people to make sure it goes smoothly. To verify that it gets done properly Raja straps himself, Jake, and I into the drivers seat. "Uh Raja, I have a flight to Atlanta to see my sister for Thanksgiving that I booked back in October."

 

His response, "I'm sorry Clinton, I need you here Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. I will fly you out Wednesday night if you want, but I need you here Friday morning." Ok cool, so I look into tickets for Thanksgiving. Exactly.. yeah... fricking... right! Ok Raja it'll only be $1400.00 for that ticket now. You wanna pick that up? Or shall we bill it to Vogue?

 

But wait! It gets better. Mr. Photographer for friggin Japanese Elle HAS to shoot this story on Thanksgiving Day! It's the ONLY DAY he can shoot it ALL freaking YEAR. So yes, plane ticket cancelled, working on Thanksgiving Day. If I have turkey it will be on a sandwich I pick up at the corner deli for dinner.

 

I bet they won't even mention me in the magazine even though it will be the best Mario Testino story ever! Then the automated telemarketer calls again... GAH!