AK and I met ten years ago when he moved to SLC to work at the company I where I was employed. I was soon to become his work wife, much to his wife Mrs. AK’s dismay. Not because she was jealous, but because she felt sorry for me. The dude cannot remember where she keeps paper towels. I don’t live with them, but I can tell you where they are kept–IN THE SAME FUCKING SPOT FOR 8 YEARS, that’s where. He also cannot remember that I am in charge of everyone and everything, and he is not. He’s very easily confused. Obviously.

AK and I shared an office for a few years and it was then he became the older brother I never had. He teased me mercilessly for things that should not matter. Who cares if I add a ‘s’ to street names? Foothill(s) Blvd. is in the FOOTHILLS it should have an ‘s’. He also forced me to listen to Toad the Wet Sprocket all day, every day. And did you hear? The band broke up in 1998.

AK and his family quickly became some of my favorite people, and not just because they fed me and kept me in wine. I couldn’t ask for better, more supportive friend in my life than AK. I can’t imagine a life without him, and luckily I don’t have to. We’ve been through a lot together, and I wouldn’t be the person I am without his influence in my life. I love him for that.

Happy Birthday AK! I’m sorry you’re soooooo old, but it could be worse… you could be RLO.

I listen to music and see a few concerts here and there, in no way does that make me an expert. Apply the same theory to movies and food. I’m not a reviewer by any means. This column is about me, and my life. Yes, I really AM that narcissistic.

With that said, click here for this week’s column, in which I don’t review music or food. Instead you’ll get another peek into my neurotic life.

So when a guy I recently met mentioned buying tickets and having us go together I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel. Obviously it would be fun to go with him, but the concert isn’t until mid-August. The concert will, without a doubt, sell out fast. So do I want to risk saying yes and then if we aren’t still hanging out be stuck without a ticket? Hell to the no. I kid you not about my love of Jeff Tweedy. But then I also don’t want to risk offending him, since he seems like a pretty cool guy. Ahhhhh, what to do??

At dinner last night he mentioned his age. This shouldn’t be a big deal, but I thought he was older than he really is. He’s 28, which is a whopping four years younger than me. FOUR WHOLE YEARS! This guy is a kid; he’s in his 20s!! I’m sure he’d mentioned his age, but as you can see by all my editing mistakes on this blog… I suck with small details. With this newfound knowledge my decision is made: I’m buying my own ticket. I can’t risk him outgrowing me before the concert.

And if that’s not enough to make me a bitchy person, I bring you my latest foot in mouth moment…

Yesterday while getting on the elevator, my CUTE! polka dot shoes nearly made me trip. The two men in the elevator looked at me curiously and I said, “Sorry, it seems like I’m having a gimp day.” Neither man said a word to me, and went back to their conversation.

Two floors later the elevator stopped and they stepped out, one walking with a VERY distinct limp. The other man turned and gave me the look of death. Great. Just great. I’ve moved from offending Republicans to the handicapped.