For Administrative Professionals Day, we went to Caffe Opera per the Shark's rec.
My Arnold Palmer. Too much tea. Not enough lemonade. Bah.
Wienerdude's nicoise salad ($13). Didn't eat it. No comment.
Apple tart in a veritable cinnamon avalanche. Bleh.
Bah + Meh + Bleh = Very Average = No Return Visit.
The flowers I got from Jacob Maarse were waiting for my assistant at the CIA.
She said she liked them.
I got my own gift a couple weeks later for my belated one-year anniversary at the CIA. The box was huge and deceptive.
See how big? It dwarfed my highlighter.
The opening process -- even the bubble wrap was branded with labeled tape.
Whee. Yes, sans exclamation point. Wienerdude said I should return it for store credit. We looked it up. $30. I guess I'm keeping it. To the CIA's credit, it was a nice thought. Neither of my former firms acknowledged my first anniversary, so $30 > $0. Yay.
The weirdest thing, however, was that my tiny crystal bowl was accompanied by a yearbook-like photo of...myself. The CIA gave me a picture of myself, people.
What do I do with this? Place it next to my monitor and gaze longingly at my own face? I'm pretty conceited, but this doesn't appeal to even my egotistical ass.
Nothing says "Happy Mother's Day" like a corporate photo of your daughter and an itty-bitty bowl in a ginormous Tiffany box, right?