Q is For...

Quick Trip.

I began last week in New York City, just a few short miles from the Atlantic Ocean, and I ended it in Newport Beach, in a hotel room overlooking the Pacific. Somewhere in between the two coasts, I managed to fit in 2 full inventories of a couple of the nation's largest department stores, a night out in NYC, two full days of meetings, a tour of NBC studios, a $70 steak dinner, a Broadway musical, a fiscal quarter review in Dallas, a trip to the beach and a car accident on the PCH [no worries, I'm okay]. I also slept somewhere in there but to be honest, I'm not entirely sure when. Needless to say, it's been a whirlwind of a week and at this point I can't confidently tell you what day it is or even what time zone I'm in. While there are certainly far less glamorous places work could have sent me [cough Lubbock cough], a week of venturing clear across the country has completely worn me out. But, it's a new week now and with any luck this one will be far more relaxing. I turn the big 2-4 on Friday and will be celebrating with a day of relaxation [thanks for the 4 day weekend Memorial Day!] and a trip to the lake. More travel, I know, but at least this time no one is going to make me count anything. Or at least I hope they won't...

P is For...

Praiseworthy.

A couple of months ago a little band called Arcade Fire won a Grammy for Album of the Year. While most of the country sat in confusion wondering who the eff Arcade Fire was, I was bursting with excitement that one of my favorite bands had finally gotten some well-deserved recognition [although I personally believe it was completely insulting to have Katy Perry even in the same category]. Shortly after their big win, the band announced a North American tour including a stop right here in Dallas. I purchased tickets the second they went on sale and very impatiently waited for the day of the show to arrive. And this past Saturday the day had finally come!

We had pit tickets, so we got there plenty early to ensure us a spot right at the front. The band that opened for the opening band was a local all girls group and I'm fairly certain that not a single member in the band is old enough to vote. They weren't awful, but I won't be buying their music any time soon. The opening band [who was actually on the bill] was Okkervil River. They're apparently a fairly well-known band out of Austin, although I had never heard of them. I liked their music just fine, but I was totally distracted by the fact that the lead singer literally took off an article of clothing after every song. Seriously, the man came out in glasses, a button down with a sweater vest over it and a blazer on top. He ended the set in only an undershirt. After collecting all his clothing, the band left the stage and it was time to wait.

Please forgive the shotty photo quality.  They didn't allow cameras so I had to rely on my Blackberry.

For those of you unfamiliar with Arcade Fire, they play like a gajillion instruments, so it takes a little while to set up all their equipment. Luckily for me, it was the perfect opportunity for a potty break [ridiculously over-priced 24 oz beers flow right through me!]. And I'm proud to say I timed it perfectly and never had to leave for the restoom during Arcade Fire's set [and if you know my bladder, you know that's a big accomplishment].

Playing the title song from the Grammy award winning album, The Suburbs

Once Arcade Fire finally came on stage, the next couple hours were pure magic. I mean really, they are absolutely amazing live. Win and Regine [the husband and wife duo that founded the band with Win's brother Will] have beautiful voices and can belt it out live just as good as they do on the record [and maybe even better].

Win Butler, in all his musical genius, about 3 feet away from me.

And the rest of the band is just as incredible. There's 8 members in total, none of which play a single instrument the entire set. It's like a game of musical chairs after every song as people shift and switch instruments for the next number.

Encore performance of Wake Up [i.e. the one Arcade Fire song you've probably heard before]

It was honestly one of the best concerts I've ever seen and if you ever get the chance to see them live, I definitely encourage you to do so. I promise you will not be disappointed [unless of course you're one of the millions of ass clowns who support Ke$ha financially and in that case you probably will be disappointed. Because you clearly have no taste in music].

O is For...

Oy Vey.

One of the stranger parts of my job is to observe inventory counts at various clients. It's one of the few tasks I have that forces me out of the audit room and in to the field. For those of you [lucky] folks who have never had to experience an inventory, let me break it down for you. Counts take places in a variety of places at various times, depending on the client's business. I've done inventories in lumber yards, department stores, warehouses, gigantic milk coolers and an avacado freezer with start times ranging from midnight on New Year's eve to 6 am on a Sunday. What I'm counting changes, but the process is pretty much always the same. I show up at whatever ungodly time they tell me to, count 25 areas, make sure my counts agree to theirs and then get the hell out of there so I can go home and document said counts in a unnecessarily large number of documents. It's thrilling, let me tell you. But on a positive note, occassionally inventories take me to exotic places like San Diego.

...Or so I thought.

A couple week ago I was told I'd be doing a count of a luxury retail store in San Diego. Being that San Diego is basically my favorite city in America, I was pretty darn excited about this. Today I got the store's address so I could book my flight and hotel for the weekend. It didn't take long for Google maps to bring my excitement level down a notch. The store I will be counting is located in San Ysidro. For those of you unfamiliar with the geography of San Diego, let me put it this way: from the store I could literally walk a quarter-mile south and be standing in Tijuana [i.e. Mexico]. My search for hotels only confirmed the proximity to Mexico as my travel agent website was giving me options in pesos. And if that wasn't enough, the classiest hotel in a 10 mile radius was the Knights Inn at a rate of 495 pesos a night [conversion: $42]. Ummm yeah...no thanks. After some additional searching, I found myself a lovely Marriott [whose rate was in USD mind you] on Coronado Island, a nice 30 minute drive north. As a little drive in the middle of the night sounded a hell of a lot safer than a motel near the border, I opted for that one. The hotel crisis may have been averted, but there's still the concern that store employees will not speak English and since they have no idea I'm coming, I'm sure that's going to work out fantastically. Necesito contar veinticinco areas? Like I said, oy vey.

But hey, at least I'll get to hang out on the beach some before my flight right? *Fingers crossed that works out*