like a c-list celebrity

Had a gorgeous day yesterday at Jeremy's birthday barbecue in sunny Almaden. At the party, I met back up with one of his friends, who evidently has so many frequent flyer miles that last year he flew 10 of his closest friends to Australia. I told him about my business trip, and he very nicely offered to upgrade my ticket to business class. He was apparently only able to do so for the return flight.
He wrote:
I was able to get the return flight upgraded, but not the outbound. I guess you'll have to sit with the vermin on that one. Explaining it to your coworkers is the fun part. I suggest the implication of a secret admirer. Have fun on your trip!
It's going to be a ton of fun to explain to my travel companion higher-ups why I will be flying a notch above them on the air travel food chain. Yes!

Jeremy had a copy of the SF Chronicle magazine from last month which I'd been trying to get ahold of, the reason being that it's my first published fiction piece in a major publication.
Back when we were dating, my ex and I were both looking for apartments on Craigslist. He was getting resentful because I was getting more responses to my e-mails than he was. I said it was because everyone wants to live with a girl who loves to cook and clean, and nobody wants to live with a boy who describes himself as an Artist and a Musician. He finally decided that he was going to start sending out the exact e-mail I was sending, to make himself sound like a fun gay guy. I helped him tweak a few of the sentences. The next apartment he went to see turned out to be that of the Craigslist project photographer. The Chronicle picked his photo for the story centerpiece, and reprinted an edited version of the e-mail. They did keep the best part, about how he likes to "make the kitchen and bathroom sparkle." Didn't get either of us a Craigslist apartment though...

Woke up at 4:00 in the morning scratching violently. Looks like our occasional visitors the mosquitoes are back. Now they're even bigger mutants than usual, probably from hanging around the alleged meth labs of our neighbors. Usually I wake up and slather myself with this Burt's Bees lemon-flavored insect repellent and fall back asleep, but I woke up again at 5:30 with my eye swollen shut - I guess I didn't cover all of the conceivable area. At work this morning my boss looked nervously at my freakish face and said, "What happened to your eye?" He seemed mostly concerned that I would look this freakish tomorrow for our big meeting. When I get back to my apartment I just might have to break out some citronella or introduce myself to our drugged out neighbors to see if I can figure out where the infestation is coming from.