Western Edition

AND conversation of the day

2008-10-16T21:40:00.000-07:00

Me: So...about a week ago some Russian dude took control of my corner and is selling drugs from 8-10 while blasting Eminem.

Sio: Shit, girl. You need to be calling the cops on that shit.

SIDEBAR

[Sio grew up a block away from me in the 70s. My neighborhood aint shit now - but it was the hardcore ghetto at that point. We talkin' Compton/Holly Grove/Bowen Homes/Marcy/Nth Ward kinda shit. But I digress...]

Me: Well it's crazy that shit hasn't self regulated yet, you know?

Sio: For sure. Who's slackin'?

Me: I don't know. Generally that shit is kept pretty tightly under wraps. We are in no way an obvious neighborhood these days. But shit...you'd think that would have been regulated on by now.

Sio: You should call the cops.

Me: No I'm laying back in the cut for now. I'd really prefer to not be "that bitch."

Sio: Gotcha

Me: Besides...you gotta respect the fact he plays by dorm rules.

Sio: [doubled over laughing] We've got to start you a blog one of these days!

Dreams

2008-10-16T21:33:00.000-07:00

During cardio the other day, C. Diddy and I were discussing dreams. For years now C. Diddy has been having a reoccurring dream wherein she's terrified of some major change occurring within the dream - makes total sense. I discussed with her the dream I've been having for years. I'm being chased by someone. Who it is changes and the whom is never actually important. I'm always one step ahead of my pursuer, but I'm always running, running, running. From something. Makes sense...right?

But tonight I remembered the other dream I've had sense...god only knows when. I'm screaming and screaming and screaming! I'm crying out so hard - I use every ounce of muscle and iota of strength to scream out at the top of my lungs! But nothing comes out. Sometimes I can squeeze out the tiniest sound...even though I try and try and try. Interesting...right?

Time Keeps On Slippin, Slippin, Slippin...Into the Future...

2008-08-13T22:01:00.001-07:00

Sorry - just kidding. I'm clearly high right now. It's probably because I am in the aforementioned altered state, but I just can't get over how fast time is slipping away from me right now...and also thinking about my relationship with time in general.

On one hand, I feel like time is flying by me. This week has been insanely long and stressful for me. All the same, I just realized it's Wednesday night and I only have two work days left. Long as they were, the first couple days of this week also managed to woosh by. Not to mention, it's already midway through August (Back to School! Shoutout to my GS peeps!) Every day slides into the next like nothing ever happened and then one day you look back and it's been a year...five years...a lifetime...since whatever happened...

My father's posthumous anniversary was August 4th. 9 years, thank you for asking. I forgot all about it until the 12th. Good? Bad? Meaningless? Regardless, I feel bad for forgetting. I also feel like it was just yesterday when my first and last thought every day was of my father and I wished for a part of the day when he wasn't part of my thoughts...and finally he isn't...

So time is flying by at a crazy rate, right? But then there's that other part of me, the part that feels like my life is stretching in front of me like an endless canvas. Blank. Needing to be filled. Exhausting. So there's this sense of the infinite nature of life and how time relates to that...yet also that of time rushing by.

As I keep saying these days, "you're blowing my mind, man."

Seriously, it's weird. How can I feel like I have so much life to fill up when at the same time I also feel like my life is passing me by in the blink of an eye? I'm not sure. All I can think is that I've been stifled by the colossal ennui of having to live out the rest of my, say, 75 or so years. I've found it oppressive and overwhelming and have been hiding out, trying to while away as much time as possible to just get it all over with. But for one thing, that's most likely making the time feel all the longer.

And for another, it's time I start taking advantage of the time and youth I have now while it's rushing by. Considering how fast the last couple of days, this year, since graduating college, since college, since my father's death, since my father was alive, since I was in high school, since I was a child... well, it just seems like maybe I should take advantage of every day I have because soon enough I'll be looking back on those days...years after they've long since passed.

But what do I know? I'm just high.
Signing off.

PS Have I used this posting title before? Anyone? Seems like something I'd use, right?

So I got off the phone...

2008-05-27T19:58:00.000-07:00

And I scream "FUCK YOU!"

TJ looks surprised, to say the least.

"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!!!!!!"

TJ continues to look at me, slightly scared. Then she gets up and starts nervously chewing on her bone. I guess we're both on edge.

I know. I know...you don't need to tell me. If this is how the typical phone call with my boyfriend goes...it's time to break up. Like I said, I know. I just don't know how.

"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!!!!!!"

He pisses me off. He pisses me off to no end. No, this isn't some hot, Italian love affair. He's a mick and I'm a mutt. This is just the end of love. It's not even love gone wrong.

I love him to death. I do. I really do. Which is why I only want the best for him. So I give him the best advice I can. But he doesn't want to "be told how to live." I'm not telling him how to live. I'm trying to tell him what life is like. I know I'm not older. But maybe I am wiser. At the very least I've been out there and I've lived and I've learned a thing or two. Maybe I can tell him something about it. Maybe I can help him learn a lesson or two the easy way.

I guess the hard thing for me is learning that he doesn't want to live his life that way. He wants to live life his own way with his own rules in his own time.

Well, sure. I know what that's like. I used to be like that. I never wanted to hear what my older sisters knew. I wanted to live my own life for myself. And then I turned, like, 16 and got over myself. Life aint like that, sweetie. Don't just ask me. Ask anyone who's been there. If you've got an easy out - you take it. 'Cause life is hard enough without trying to live it the hard way.

I'm not saying he's 16. I'm just saying, you know, get over yourself. It's all well and good to live your life, but if someone has something valuable to say...why not listen? I just don't understand.

Well, fuck you. I love you, I do. I love love love you. You're my first love and you'll always be a very, very special love. But it just can't be like this anymore.

But I can't live like this anymore. So fuck you. Fuck you for making me fall in love. And most importantly - fuck you for pushing me away.

Love, always. I promise.

State of the Union Address

2008-04-23T23:36:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile, but I feel like it's time for another State of the Union address...especially (spell check says I spelled the word wrong - what do you think?) as it's late at night (11:30 - fuck off, I'm old on the inside) and I'm drunk (I like parenthesis). I suppose the union consists of the following subsets: love, life, work, professional development and puppies.

In terms of love, I think the nation of Serlandia is well aware the situation is shaky. An attack was made last February, which rocked the land to its inner core. Despite fighting valiantly against external forces, love appears to be losing. I don't know what more to say except to quote the card posted across from my bed, "I wish my heart had a map to tell my heart where to go." In other love news, I feel highly unlovable which is hard to rectify with the fact I know everyone loves me except for the person I which would love me (who I think does love me, but not enough to be inspired to enact major life changes to save his life from a life without ME.) So I feel loveless. Which makes me feel worthless. Except for I know I am loved...just not by the person I wish in the way I wish. Oh, woe is me.

In terms of life, I'm alive. What more do you bitches want??? Before I started writing this blog entry I was seriously considering suicide until I realized I have a dog and who in the hell would take on TJ? And by that I mean in the days before I was discovered. But in any case, the thought came to me that people with dogs probably rarely consider suicide. Both because you can pull your pup in for a cuddle whenever you need one and the overarching fear that your dog will start eating you as soon as you die. What can I say? I was raised in a harem wherein I read Delores Clairborne at way too early an age.

So, pro dev (as the cool kids say it). As my friends know (all 5 of you!!!) I've been working hard on preparing for the GMAT. To get my personalized critique from my GMAT class instructor I needed to finish my third practice GMAT before midnight PST tonight. While I was successful in completing that practice test my score dropped 80 points in the last month. However (a) I hate motherfucking excuses and (b) I suck. Since I haven't *technically* set a date to take my test all that shit is just practice, but I still have a bee in my bonnet about that shit. In other professional development, no one is buying on the site right now, so we have no accounts, so I'm essentially a redundant employee, which means my ass is most likely on the line should (when?) budget cuts come. Thanks assholes who couldn't afford their mortgage in the first place. Thanks a whole fucking lot.

Puppies are puppies and it's spring, so it's a good ass time. Enjoy: http://www.dailypuppy.com/. And if I kill myself before we speak again...well, at least you heard it here first.

PS: TJ says woof.

Back in Business!

2008-04-02T17:00:00.000-07:00

The gods of passwords are smiling upon me...I some how remembered my password from a year and a half ago. I shall start posting presently...although chances are the only who will know is Elliot (I assume he still has me in his RSS feed.)

August Already?

2006-08-01T21:40:00.000-07:00

Well, well, well. It's funny how things turn out. For instance, Mark came back to work the Monday following my last post. So I didn't get that great promotion. Or for another example, it's funny how Mark came back and my work load doubled. In any case, I still really love what I'm doing and I'm even still in love with my company. Not to mention, I think my boss is fucking awesome and I get rewarded for the work I do so it's really not all that bad.

Although the last two 10 hour days with no lunch break have been a bit tiring.

In other work news, Claire now interns at my company. She's in the marketing department which is great because advertising works very closely with marketing, but we're not actually in the same department. Although, it's also funny that Mark supervises both of us.

In non-work related news, I've taken up playing the Sport of Kings. Yes, my friends, that's right. Motherfucking croquet. Now, a lot of people have been quite taken aback by this new habit. But that's only because they don't understand how AWESOME it is and how it's the MOST FUN EVER!!! I thoroughly recommend it. Any sport that you can play while smoking and drinking is alright by me. And you've got to love the secondary goal of the game - to talk as much shit as possible. Right now I'm playing with a shitty $15 set bought at everybody's favorite chain store - Target. I plan to ask for a nice set this Christmas. In the meantime I'm hoping the Target set makes it that long. As is, the bag has already fallen apart on me. Did I mention I've only played one game with it???

In TJ news, the mongrel got herself quite the case of fleas over the weekend. I spent all day on Sunday exterminating the house and my belongings. I just don't understand. She's so little, how are there so many of them? The issue seems to be resolved at this point, but I still have another full can of flea spray just in case.

In weather news, it's been mainly beautiful here with a little bit of too cold and a big dollop of way too hot.

I'd like to close with what is a bitter tradition in my life - the bitch ballerinas are back on the buses. Not that this is news, they've been around since late June, but I haven't technically mentioned them yet. So you understand how it's almost news. In any case, I hate those little brats so much. Here's the thing (aside from my rants last summer about them filling up the buses which is STILL TRUE - especially with the MUNI cut backs,) if the little brats followed the rule of the bus I would be much more friendly with them. But no. They just don't get it. And I've witnessed people scream the rules at them enough times that they should really fucking get it. Move back as the bus fills up (yes, girls. Even if your friend is sitting down in the front. Your ass keeps moving down. Stop being so goddamn codependent.) If the bus is packed, get into position for the door before your stop instead of just as the doors are closing. Don't litter. Et cetera. Bitches. Anyway, I know USF starts back up in a couple of weeks so the brats will be gone soon enough. Finally, I'd like to share my friend Esther's remark on the girls "if they were any good, they'd be with a company which wouldn't let them show up for class looking like such sluts." Sho 'nuff.

It's D-Day!

2006-07-05T12:49:00.000-07:00

So it's D-Day. Or make that FUM-Day. Translation = Fuck You Mark Day. He's still not back. Make that 24 days MIA. So, it's been strongly hinted at that today is the day he's fired. I still have no idea what the fuck that's all about. Is he in rehab? Is he at the World Cup? Did he just totally loose it? I have no idea. In any case, along with the hinting that Mark is getting fired comes the hinting that I'm going to be promoted to...Mark's position.

Now, let me explain something about Mark's job. He is not an executive here. However he is, like, a smidgen below that. So, basically he's an executive. I am not an executive. I don't have the experience, training, wisdom, training, breadth of knowledge, training or any idea what the fuck to do should I be put in charge of advertising. And I really haven't been trained for it either. I know that advertising is sort of a baptism by fire sort of thing, but this is really fucking ridiculous.

I've been staring at my screen for the last 2 hours freaking out over all of this. Yeah. And it really seems like they want to put ME in charge. That doesn't seem like the smartest move to me...I mean, come on guys. At least wait until AFTER my 90 day review.

On the plus side, I was told to expect a fatty raise should this all play out.

I'd still prefer for Mark's ass to just show back up at work.

In other news the 4th was lovely. Played croquette in the park (and it was kick ass, so you keep your snide comments to yourself.) Went to two barbecues. Could actually see fire works, even in my neighborhood. It was a 4th of July miracle of sorts.

So, how are you???

Holy Crap! Two Posts In One Week!

2006-06-12T16:03:00.000-07:00

Ah Monday morning…it’s funny, it’s not so bad anymore.

I had a kickass weekend, how about you? I went to a BBQ with my college friends on Friday. It was great to see everyone, it always is. I think it’s strange, but very cool, that nothing ever really seems to change between all of us. Saturday I took the train down the peninsula with Steph. We met up with Claire and then we were off to…BFD! I’ll admit that I wasn’t really into it at all and I made it pretty well known that I was only going for the sun. It was beyond a pleasant surprise when I had a ton of fun there! I ended up liking the music, Mike was bartending so he was giving us free booze and I ran into some friends from when I first moved to SF! Sunday was also wonderful, but in a completely different way. I spent the night at Claire’s parent’s house because they live close to Shoreline and it was fabulous to wake up in the Garden of Eden! Claire and I got up, walked around the gardens. Ate a homemade pancake breakfast. Hung out more in the gardens. Went shopping and then Claire drove me back to the city. So much fun!

In other news, I’m starting to suspect my boss is an alcoholic (I was going to say drunk, but I’m already positive about that.) This is, like, the 5th or 6th time he’s left work an hour or two in because he’s too hungover to work. On one hand – that’s kind of awesome. He doesn’t really care if I’m hungover or whatever. On the other hand – I’ve only worked here for two months. Which averages out to him missing a day of work about every week and a half. Now, I’m really ok with bossman leaving for the day. I prefer to just be given assignments and then left the fuck alone. However, I am delightfully curious to see how this plays out (or as Jesse put it “rock it till it fucks you over.”)

Chicago, Dead Body and Birthday

2006-06-09T14:26:00.000-07:00

What a long time it’s been! So life has generally been crazy for me. My mom visited, then Kate was here for two weeks, then I was in Chicago for a week. So much has been going on. On top of that I seem to have lost my mind…along with everything else. First I lost my keys and bus pass during Bay to Breakers (have I mentioned I’m NEVER doing that again. Well, I mean it. Never. Ever. Not that it wasn’t fun. But NEVER again.) Then I lost my cell phone in Chicago. You understand all this happened within 10 days. So now I’m totally paranoid about all my belongings and constantly check and recheck to make sure I have everything.

Other than that things are mainly good. It’s crazy to me that my sis is now a doctor. It’s just so weird. I mean, she’s wanted to be one since she was 2 or something so we all knew is would happen some day. I just can’t quite believe yet that day has come. Hmm what else…I saw a dead body at Transbay terminal about a week ago. I was walking to my bus and saw cop lights all over the place. As I got closer I saw police tape everywhere. Just as I said to Claire “what the fuck is going on” (said to her over the phone – yes, the one that was lost a mere 72 hours later in Chicago) I looked about 10 yards to my left and saw a huge, fat man laying in a huge, fat puddle of blood. They were just putting the sheet over him as I walked past – not really sure what happened. Nothing was on the news about it, I guess because it’s not really that big of a deal even though it shook me up a little.

So I have a birthday coming up on Tuesday. I was telling Rene yesterday that I wish my birthday was a month away, because I’m just not feeling it. I was going to have a party, but then decided to cancel that (no, I’m still not telling anyone the theme. I will use it at some point in the future because it’s THAT KICK ASS.) Then Dan talked me into at least having a dinner with my best best best friends. But I really wanted to go to the Kezar and I really only wanted to go to the Kezar and one of the playoff games starts at 6:30 on Tuesday - so that’s out. So now I don’t know what I want to do. Whatever. Oh – and if you haven’t heard, starting this year I’m turning 39. It’s a long story as to why, but for the next 30 or so years I’m sticking with it. So get used to it bitches.

If you haven’t emailed me your phone number – please do so. Recreating a phone book isn’t as easy as it looks.

Cinco de Mayo!

2006-05-05T18:53:00.000-07:00

So it's been forever again since I've updated. Same problem as before: I actually work at work now and I don't want to go near a computer when I'm home.

I love, love, love new work. All my co-workers are super nice and I've learned that being in a "supportive environment" is vital to me. People around here thank you for everything and every little accomplishment is blown into a huge deal. Seriously though, the data team called Florida on Monday to find out when state educational stats would be ready. They happened to be ready ahead of schedule and they gave them to data right then and there. We got this huge announcement about "data is superduper! What go getters!" I was all...yeah...they did go and get the data...but whatever. At least it's a billion trillion times better than what will be forever known as the "horrible lifefuck.

Um...let's see here. Both bosses are very cool. They're like an old married couple though. It's pretty funny. I like the work a lot too. It blows my mind that I'm paid to be an expert in advertising. I'll spend an entire afternoon reading AdWeek and everyone thinks that's the greatest thing ever.

Momma came out to visit last weekend which was very nice. I didn't realize how much I missed her until she was here. Sister Kate will be coming in 13 days, so it's one big family reunion - just spread out and only one at a time. And THEN 3 days after Kate leaves I fly to Chicago for her graduation and I'll (obviously) be seeing the whole fam then too. It's so crazy to me that Kate is a legit doctor and shit now. SO CRAZY. I wonder if everyone feels that way when their sibling gets the good ole MD.

Back to why I love my job: I'm taking off early 'cause it's Friday and everyone else left the office over a year ago!

Hasta!

Three Important Updates

2006-04-20T13:07:00.000-07:00

Lots of things have been happening lately, which I'm sure you all are waiting feverishly to hear about. First and foremost, old job is over. Hallelujah! Praise the lord! I still can't even really believe that it's really and truly over and I never have to go back there and none of that shit will ever be my problem ever again! It's pretty awesome!!

Second of all, there was spring break. Also totally awesome. Cess was in town Friday - Tuesday, so I spent a bunch of time (drinking) with her. Other that that, I did a lot of projects around the house: made jewelry, organized a bunch of shit, cleaned the house, replanted plants, etc. I went to Half Moon Bay for a day which was totally kick ass. And I slept whenever I wanted for however long I wanted. Oh yeah - and I also broke my cell phone and had to get a new one. It's a Razr (I was over a barrel, Cess) or however they spell it so I'm all fancy pants McGee now.

Third, I started new job. In a word, it's good. In two words, I'm deliciously happy. And in an extended metaphor, new bossman keeps talking about how I just started "dating" my new job...I'm in the honeymoon period now, so I'm all lovey dovey with it...etc. New Job is fantastic though and so far I love everything about it. I'm not foolish enough to think it will be this fantastic forever, but I'm going to induldge in it for as long as possible. The hours are kickass, the people are kickass, the duties are kickass, the work is kickass, the organization is kickass...you name it. Highlights so far are:

1) I LOVE my new boss - coolest guy ever
2) I get to keep my nose ring AND wear jeans to work still
3) Commuter Benefits - I've just really, really always wanted that and it always pissed me the fuck off that old work wouldn't even discuss it. Fuckers.
4) 10% of my time MUST be spent on professional development. I get to choose the means and the ends though!

So all is well so far. And so far so good is all you can ask for, right?

Oh and I'm trying to quit smoking. We'll see how that goes. As I've already mentioned...so far so good...and that's all you can ask for!

I Didn't Write This

2006-04-04T09:20:00.000-07:00

My sister, Kate, just emailed this to me and I had forgotten all about it. If I remember right, while in high school Kate's friend Lindsay's brother wrote this. I can't remember his name, but I do remember that the ex-girlfriend he references is Lauren Gilmore. I still think it's pretty funny. And it's not like I have anything better than this to contribute today. Hey Claire, the burrito/afterbirth reference is just for you!

Ode To Morning

Ever have one of those days where you just feel like pissing on the world? Not just pissing on the world, but like laughing while you're doing it? I feel like shit. I look like shit. And I feel like I look like shit. Things are not going well. But then again, this is the way I feel every morning. That's why I usually sleep through it. It's like this completely disgusting and awful thing that is absolutely unnecessary -- like finding a green chip all of a sudden in an otherwise perfectly good bag of Ruffles. In fact, there is only one thing in this whole fucking world that I hate more than the morning, and that's onions. And rap music also. And my ex- roommate. I swear if I ever went to hell it would be this eternal morning with this huge fucking alarm clock blaring rap music. And then I would have to get up and eat onions all day with my ex-roommate who is so stupid that he would probably stare at a wall for days unless someone told him to stop. He actually asked me to help him shave his back hair once. I'm sorry Colin, I'd rather have the entire Love Boat sailed up my ass on a regular basis than touch your back hair you enormous wad of snot. He came down the other day and told me that his new goal in life is to rob a bank because he was inspired by the movie "Wisdom." Demi Moore has inspired me to do many things in life, but robbing a bank has never been one of them.

Lately I've been working on this theory that seems to remedy all problems--it's called violence. Guns, knives, an armored tank, large farm machinery, piano wire, a rusty bear trap, a random light socket, dental floss (preferably waxed), or even a dollar bill (that's George Washington if you're nasty) could do the trick. For instance, you enter your neighborhood Taco Bell and say, "I'd like three soft taco's without the fingernails or pubic hair...oh, and add sour cream," and they say "Excuse me sir, but I don't appreciate the smart ass comment." And then you say, "Well I don't appreciate the hair growing out of the mole on the side of your face." And then they say, "OK mister, I've had just about enough of you." And that's where you pull out the gun.

By the way, if you ever get Taco Bell, don't look on the inside. I had a friend once who opened up her seven layer burrito and I swear it looked like someone had just after-birthed in it. Speaking of afterbirth (I've always wanted to say that), there was this kid in my creative writing class last semester who had friends of the family who saved their afterbirth and fried it up and ate it. I mean do you use a lot of ketchup? What about leftovers? Is that stuff re-heatable? I mean what kind of fucking fuck eats afterbirth? And why the hell does my ex-girlfriend (a.k.a. dyke of the universe) keep calling me? It's called a year and a half bitch! A year and a fucking half since we broke up so why do you call me every other day and ask if I'm dating someone else? I could have a herd of sheep in my bed every night and it's none of your fucking business. And that's beside the fact that she looks like someone screwed an ass onto her neck and stapled a cheap wig to the top of it.

I went to a movie the other day and there were these two people sitting in front of me about to inhale each others faces. It was the most disgusting damn thing I've ever seen. This guy actually licked the entire length of her arm and then stuck his tongue so far into her ear I swear it was going to come out the other side. And they were ugly too.

There is absolutely nothing worse in the world than watching ugly people kissing in public. Two sweating, hairy, fat people wearing black concert T-shirts licking each other in public (preferably near a restaurant or eating area). I mean this is what laws are for. I saw two ugly people at the State Fair once sharing an ice cream cone and they actually licked it out of each others mouths. I mean there is no discreet way to do something like that. If I lit my ass on fire and hung it out of the window of a speeding automobile it would still be considerably more discreet. Not to mention the bodily fluids involved in that kind of public display of affection. About the only thing more violent than that is the food in our cafeteria. The other day they actually served Pinto Bean Loaf. Yes, Pinto...Bean... Loaf. I mean what does that look like? I don't know, that work "loaf" just makes me very afraid for some reason. And then there's three bean delight. Which word does not fit in that phrase--three, bean, or delight? I'm sorry, anything that has three beans in it is not a delight. Yesterday we had Breaded Perch. BREADED PERCH. Isn't Perch like something actual real fish eat? We don't have just chicken, we have chicken with the feet still on them. We have turkey that floats. We have gravy that becomes a lumpy green substance within minutes of exposure to the air. And they have these official sounding names for all the foods. For instance: Vermont Cheese Soup--as if the cheese soup from South Dakota would inspire laughter by everyone in the cafeteria. And out of everyone in the breathing world you would want to handle your food they have to choose people that look like extras from a prison rape movie.

About the only thing that annoys me more is poetry. It's nothing personal--it's just poetry. It's this sick, twisted, perverted cult that wants to transform the world into a bunch of fairies and nymphs skipping from flower to flower in a bunch of rhyming couplets. It's all satanic you know. What do you think happened to Elvis? The poets got him. Where did the bullet from the grassy knoll come from. That's right,the poets. River Phoenix? Yep, he was getting too close to their L.A. based operation. It's called "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre"--that whole damn family used to be poets before they decided to chop up all those teenagers. They were just sitting there one day reading "In a Station at the Metro" and they said, "I know what it means!" It's all subliminal. They trick you into trying to find a deeper meaning and it ends up saying the same damn thing in your head no matter which poem you read: "Get a gun and kill your grandmother." They're evil and they must be stopped. Every line has something Satanic in it. For instance: "Hail to thee, blithe spirit" if read backwards really says "Satan is the king of the world and he drives a big fucking Buick." The world is not a safe place for the normal people anymore. The people that like to watch re-runs of "Welcome Back Kotter," the people that eat dog biscuits on occasion, the people that get a strange sensation while watching those three chicks on "The Price is Right." I beg you, do not read or write poetry. It seems so innocent at first. You open a book, read a few lines, and BAM! you've just cut up the neighbors and are keeping them around the house in lots of little jars.

It's a sick world we live in. Just look at the headlines--incest, child molestation, cattle mutilations, Michael Bolton, gangs, AIDS, serial killings, drug traffic. And what does our school do about any of it?--we have Hillary Clinton and a guy wearing a huge mask handing out Pop Tarts to everybody. And how come I'm the only one I know who still checks the closet before I go to bed every night? Who knows when you'll randomly open the closet door and all of a sudden there's a mental patient with no face standing there with a hook for a hand just pissing everywhere? Or if under the bed one night there just happens to be an unusually large number of severed human heads just sitting there? Or if behind the suspicious looking bulge in the drapes there is a naked bleeding woman with a drill coming out of the end of the guitar she's playing? I have to say that I'm a firm believer in corn field circles and in alien abductions, especially in small towns in Iowa. I also believe in the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot, and Elvis. And that Jim Morrison is alive and living in a small town in Africa. I believe in Chinese food, southern accents, and that "Twin Peaks" was a damn fine TV show if I do say so my damn self.

By the way, in case you were wondering, my Astronomy mid-term was such a nightmarishly impossible thing that I was going to throw myself out of my window (I live on the first floor, but that's beside the point). I just stared at the test for an hour and a half and then fell on the ground and started flopping like a fish. And my T.A. in the class is one enormous walking penile implant. The man should be run over by a large vehicle driven by Tina Turner if there's any justice at all in the world. And I still haven't found the air nozzle on the back of our teacher yet that blows him up. I swear the man is the equivalent of a human inner-tube. He should be thrown into a pool and have little kids ride on him. And he's one of those teachers that puts one of those cheesy multiple choice problems on the end of a test:

Professor Dulk is...
a) my favorite teacher in the world,
b) the bestest Astronomy teacher I've ever had,
c) the equivalent of an orgasm in the field of Astronomy teaching,
d) like butter, etc.

I would love to do one of my own:

Professor Dulk is an enormous gyrating...
a) penis
b) penis
c) penis
d) all of the above
e) all of the above and penis

But I mean that in the best possible way of course. I'm really not a negative person at all. When I mention death or severe maiming for instance, I don't mean in in the negative way. If my Astronomy teacher happened to be backed over eighty three times while innocently crossing a parking lot and the car for some reason was registered to my name, I wouldn't be so quick to focus on the negatives of the situation. In fact, I'm a very positive person. I usually try to concentrate on the positives in most situations, but I probably don't have to tell you that. I find it refreshing to spend my free time helping out at homeless shelters, rescuing a stranded kitten out of a tree, or accompanying a senior citizen across a busy intersection. On weekends I like to plant trees in the community. And when I'm not doing that I teach an adult literacy class in my spare time. My hobbies are bird watching, winding thread around an enormous spool, and skipping through fields with Wilford Brimley. I also like to ponder world problems while laying on a rock; such as: What's the deal with Bob Barker's hair? One day it's brown, the next it's white. Was Dylan really worth breaking up a good friendship like Brenda and Kelly's? Does the Coyote secretly like the Roadrunner, and if so will he send him a Hallmark card on his birthday?

It's enough to make a man do something drastic.

I'd like to end now with one of my favorite quotes. Except it has absolutely nothing to do with this paper. But then again, this paper has absolutely nothing to do with anything anyway. So like I said, I'm going to end with one of my favorite quotes from the movie "Bull Durham": "Well, what do you believe in then?" "I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sonntag are self-indulgent over-rated crap; I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone; I believe that there should be a constitutional amendment outlawing astro-turf and the designated hitter; I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas Day rather than Christmas Eve, and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days."

It's A Celebration, Bitches!

2006-03-22T11:09:00.000-08:00

Scene - Monday, around 4pm. Bossman's office. He has just asked me to review with him last items so he may leave early for the day. He's not feeling well.

Me: Did you finish that BEL work?

Bossman: Oh, right, yeah. It's done.

M: Did you get your request in for GSP?

BM: I'll do that tonight.

M: Do you remember me telling you on Friday about that job prospect that looked pretty good and how I might need a recommendation for it?

Bossman stares at me blankly.

M: Well, so I got the job.

Bossman stares at me blankly, long silence.

M: Ok...so I'm going to take it...

Bossman stares at me blankly, another long silence.

M: Right then...well I guess this is me quitting. Do you want something in writing?

BM: (Looking clearly flustered) Um, yes. No. No. Yes. I don't know. Ask Barbie, she's the HR manager.

M: Alrighty then. So you feel better and have a nice evening!

- end scene -

And they say dreams don't come true...

Ok, maybe only I say that. But I'm going to have to start taking it back - 'cause this is a dreams coming true kinda week! I finally got to quit heinously horrible lifefuck of a nightmare job!

And it was beautiful, just beautiful my friends!

The best part was, the ONLY Windows consultant in the office quit the next day. Like, you can't plan shit that good.

So I'm now the ad trafficking coordinator for an educational non-profit and the emanncipation proclamation was even better than I could have ever dreamed it to be.

But contrary to popular belief the best part isn't quitting - it's not giving a shit for the next three weeks about anything, aside from fucking over Rene.

No, I take that back...the best part is new work planned out my quitting so I could have a week long vacation. That's right, bitches! I'm almost 24, I've been out of school for almost two years and I get a motherfucking spring break!

Mwa ha ha ha ha!

I've dreamed about quitting for a good 15 months now. And it really is better than I ever thought! Here's to the first day of the rest of my life!

Oh, and here's a link to my countdown clock:

I'M FREE!!!

Finally! Another Entry!

2006-03-17T13:11:00.000-08:00

When I started writing a blog, the whole purpose of it was to take up time at work. Work sucked (still does) and I had a lot of free time back then, so it seemed like a good idea at the time. Funny thing as time went on, I really started to enjoy this blogging business. Although I'm clear on the fact that makes me a total loser.

I have no free time at work anymore. Except for strangely right now, because it's Saint Patty's day and all my coworkers are at a bar down the street drinking green beer with the rest of San Francisco, so no one is calling in on support calls. Don't feel bad at me for not being at the bar - even if I didn't have a killer hangover today I'd be avoiding that shit like the plague.

Anyway, so I have no free time anymore and therefore haven't updated the blog since the horrible Googling of '06.

Side Note: To Google, verb, (1) meaning "to perform a Web search, that returns a greatly defined list of results...pertaining to your search topic, tremendously beating the competition, such as MSN, Yahoo, AskJeeves, Lycos, ect.", usually with the Google search engine. "Mary googled for Wikipedia references." (2) To string someone along forever with job interviews, tell them they are a top candidate, tell them they will be hired for either a position or a better position, advise them to quit their job and then at the last minute tell them you changed your mind and they will not be getting an offer after all. "That hospital in Orlando googled my sister when they told her 'we'll see you in July!' and then didn't give her a residency offer. Those fuckers."

But I started to really miss the little blogosphere. And I've been touched that a couple of you out there (literally two: Francesca and Jesse) keep checking in on the Western Edition and asking why I haven't been updating it. So, it seems that if I want to keep this little endeavor running, I'm going to have to become an even bigger loser and blog on my free time.

The good news about not writing forever is that I have a ton of stories stacked up! Look forward to exciting tales about:

- How I've started driving my office crazy (this one will only be published after I am able to leave my current position. Unfortunately, coworkers know my blog address.)
- When TJ turned into a kite during a wind storm (ok - this one is lame but cute.)
- That whole shrooming thing
- General life updates
- My new co-worker Barbie
- I'm sure lots of other things, I'll just have to think of them

Stay tuned for another day.

Back To The Drawing Board

2006-02-01T09:26:00.000-08:00

So here's the thing about bad news - unless it's somehow 100% personal (and how often does that happen?) you get the fun of telling everybody. Now, it's not so much that I mind being the bearer of bad news, that's kind of my job. What I mind is when you have bad news to share and you have to tell people it, so you have to keep reliving it again and again. I guess that's what is great about a blog though, that you can readily share information with a large group of people while only having to give the news once.

Another thing I hate about bad news, related to reliving it over and over and over again, is when you tell people and they get all empathetically upset. I mean, I appreciate the empathy, but when you tell someone something upsetting and then they get upset it has a tendency to upset you all over again.

I take it back. I guess I do mind being the bearer of bad news.

So, what I'm getting at is I didn't get the Google job. I'm honestly shocked. I mean, they told me I was in between temp-to-hire status and direct hire status. Maybe I misunderstood what that meant, but it sure sounded to me like I was going to get an offer. I mean, what part of "we don't know if we're going to give you an offer or a better offer" actually translates into "no offer?"

So I'm pretty upset. I spent most of last night crying with Claire until she got me drunk enough that she could distract me with fries and watching MTVJams. The main thing is, I really don't know what the fuck to do. I just feel like after a year of trying to get a new job and meeting with about 30 companies, making it to the final round every time, never getting an offer...I almost feel like there is no point in continuing to try. Doing the math, I need to get a job in the media industry before I go to grad school, if I want a media job after grad school. For a media job to count, I need to be there at least a year. If I get in to my top grad school, I'll be starting in June 07. So, I have until June 06 to get a job in media. Now, I know that seems totally doable and like I have all the time in the world. But I'm telling you kids, I've been working my ass off for the last year to get a new job and clearly nothing's doing. So I don't know what to do.

I do not know what the fuck to do.

Sad Times For McBaker

2006-01-25T12:25:00.000-08:00

I know everyone has been waiting with baited breath to find out how my "Dragstravaganza Christmas in January" party went on Friday. Hmmm....what's the word I'm looking for....anticlimactic? No drunken antics (ok, I was shitty drunk and as Dan reports, "loud and somewhat obnoxious,") no dragstavaganza. Not much to report, actually. Some food, pizza and the like. Lotsa mingling. No booze allowed (except for that which I had already consumed and that which I snuck in -- Steph! Thanks for the flasks!) It was, well, honestly, kinda lame. And I only say that because it made my company's annual lameass non-denominational holiday gathering look cool. But I digress.

I live in a little apartment building on one of the most famous intersections in my neighborhood: McBaker. Everyone knows my corner for one of 5 reasons: either the coffee shop, the cafe, the infamous McBaker liquor store, the drycleaners or the Fulton 5 bus stop. I live in the corner building above the drycleaners. My building is comprised of three floors: the drycleaners on the first floor (and scary Earl who lives in a shack attached to the building which is located in the alley,) two vacant apartments on the second floor and the lord and lady of the manor (my neighbor James and me) in the two apartments on the top floor.

I came home on Monday to construction on the second floor of my building. I've been nervous about this for some time. That's because there has been a rumor floating around the hood that Michael was going to be doing construction on the middle floor, combining the apartments and either sell it as a condo or move in himself. And there is almost no fate worse than your landlord living in the same building as you.

The other rumor floating around about my building is the drycleaners lost their lease and Michael refuses to renew it. Rumor hath he plans to rip out the drycleaners and turn it into a real estate office for himself. Well, color me surprised when I came home last night to the inside of the drycleaners totally demolished and the family who ran it (yeah, it's a small, family owned business. And by small I mean mom, dad and grown up son,) clearing out the rest of their possessions.

I don't really believe in drycleaning. I mean, didn't humans beat silk and wool against rocks in streams to clean the fabric for centuries? I also don't believe in drycleaning because it doesn't actually clean your clothes and it's expensive. So I never went to the drycleaner. But they opened at the same time I walk TJ in the morning and they closed at the same time I walk TJ at night and we always said hi and I always stopped to let the little old lady pet TJ for a minute. Anyway, I got off the bus and saw the carnage and knew this was probably my last time seeing them, so I stopped by to say hi.

As soon as I walked in the old lady ran over and hugged me and said how she really wanted to say goodbye to me, but wasn't sure what my apartment number was. I wished her good luck and she explained the family circumstances (the dad is too old to work and needs to retire, the mom will continue working to support the family, the son doesn't know what he's going to do) and started to cry, while still hugging me. I didn't really know what to do, what to do you say when someone's livelihood is taken away from them with no fall back when they're a senior citizen? So I just told her it was going to be a good move and something would happen and something would work out and the son agreed...but none of us looked all that sure of ourselves. So I wished them good luck and let them know I will miss them and also how upset the whole neighborhood is. Then I left, because at that point there really wasn't anymore to say.

So I don't really know what's going on with my corner. Funny as it sounds, so many people have lived in that neighborhood and ride the 5 that people know my exact apartment building when I say I live at "McBaker above Fairway Cleaners." Clearly, big changes are in store for my building, my corner, my neighborhood. It makes me sad. But change is life and all of those bullshit platitudes. Stay tuned to see what happens.

Christmas in January?

2006-01-20T11:15:00.000-08:00

So my legion of faithful fans (Jesse) have urged me to update my blog. This is all I've got.

Tonight is Dan's work holiday party. Now I have one question for you: What fucking kind of holiday party is held at the end of January and starts at midnight? Shady ass shit, for sure. In any case, I'm pretty excited for it for one reason, two words:

Peaches Christ

Yes, that's right, Peaches Christ, world renowned drag queen extraordinaire, is Dan's boss. Now, don't get me wrong, when he's at work he's his alterego Joshua and he's not all dressed up or anything. But the fact that I'm meeting the man behind the makeup is almost more exciting. And I think it's completely hilarious that Joshua is excited to meet me (apparently a lot of Dan's friends think I'm his imaginary girlfriend, just like a lot of my friends think he's my imaginary boyfriend. We should really work on that one of these days.)

I've met Peaches on so many occasions it's almost hard to picture him not Peaches. I also keep wondering what Joshua is like. I'm betting on super, super gay. A friend who has met him told me he's also really bitchy. Which, considering Peaches' persona, isn't all that shocking. I hope he's well dressed and funny.

Anyway, I'm also trying to figure out what a holiday party that starts at midnight (and, you know, isn't during the holidays) will be like. It's bound to be interesting. And I'm placing bets on drunken madness. I'm also under the impression it will be held at The Bridge...so I'm hoping we get to run around the theatre with complete abandon. That would be fun.

In the end, I'm just hoping for stories to share. I've been so boring lately, it would be nice to have something a little spicy.

Finally, I'd like to close with a word to the wise for the boys. A pickup line that is never going to work:

"Girl, you even make picking up dog shit look good."

Same Shit, Different Day

2006-01-18T17:03:00.000-08:00

I've thought this through long and hard. And, really, there is just nothing going on in my life right now. I don't even really have any humorous SF stories, although did I mention about when I went to wash laundry last week and some homeless guy was drawing on the laundromat floor with his own shit? Well...I guess that story pretty much tells itself.

Things are still progressing with the company I'm interviewing with. What did I call it on here earlier? Oh right, Noodle. That's it. Yes, I've moved into the final review stages with them and we'll see how that goes. Hopefully well (cross your fingers!) For the review process I had to write a biography about me and my accomplishments, interests, accolades, etc. So I spent last weekend writing that up and I honestly never thought I would feel so depressed looking at my list of life "accomplishments" (heavy emphasis on the quotation marks.) I guess that just motivates me to finally do something with my life, but that is so much easier said than done. Anyway, all I really care about right now is that the list is good enough for Noodle.

Maybe something exciting will happen to me tonight. But I wouldn't plan on it.

Happy New Year!

2006-01-06T16:50:00.000-08:00

So Christmas happened, which went remarkably well. It was the first time I've ever been able to describe it as "short, busy, but very very good." New Years has also passed, for which everyone I know seems exorbitantly glad. 2005 was such a shitty year for so, so many reasons. So now the holidays are over and normal life has once again regained its Groundhog's Day like existence.

On the job front things are...well, they could be better, but they could be a lot worse. I'm still in talks with the online company, which I'll call...um...hmmm...Noodle for reasons of anonymity (like, say, they *might* possibly own this very website organization...) I had round 8 (yeah, that's right, count 'em on up - EIGHT) of interviews on Wednesday. They told me I would hear by yesterday, which clearly means I won't hear until Tuesday or so. I also interviewed with a pharmaceutical company last night, I'm not all that into them except the pay so damn well and the hours are 9-5. Yeah, that's right 9-5...the American dream!

Friends are the same, Dan is good. I think it's funny that whenever I go a long time without talking to someone their response is always "wait, you're still together? I was sure you'd be single again by now!" Nope, still off the market and Dan is in my extremely good graces after surprising me with flowers last night.

In other news, that is not a life update, check this story:

Performance Artist, 76, Arrested After Attacking Porcelain Urinal With Hammer

PARIS (AP) — A 76-year-old performance artist was arrested after attacking Marcel Duchamp's "Fountain" — a porcelain urinal — with a hammer, police said.

Duchamp's 1917 piece — an ordinary white, porcelain urinal that's been called one of the most influential works of modern art — was slightly chipped in the attack at the Pompidou Center in Paris, the museum said Thursday. It was removed from the exhibit for repair.

The suspect, a Provence resident whose identity was not released, already vandalized the work in 1993 — urinating into the piece when it was on display in Nimes, in southern France, police said.

During questioning, the man claimed his hammer attack on Wednesday was a work of performance art that might have pleased Dada artists. The early 20th-century avant-garde movement was the focus of the exhibit that ends Monday, police said.

2004 poll of 500 arts figures ranked "Fountain" as the most influential work of modern art — ahead of Pablo Picasso's "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon," Andy Warhol's screen prints of Marilyn Monroe and "Guernica," Picasso's depiction of war's devastation.

"Fountain" is estimated at $3.6 million.

Ok, so what makes me laugh about this story is remembering this one time Rene and I were at SFMOMA. They had "The Fountain" on display and yes, I know it's a great work of art and it's revolutionary and very valuable and all that...but at the same time, come the fuck on! It's a fucking urinal! So anyway, Rene and I wanted to touch it and we looked around and there was no sign saying "Don't Touch." Now, I have a very firm philosophy on touching things at museums. If you are not to touch it, there is a sign next to the piece that says "Don't Touch." By the fact that some things have signs that say "Do Not Touch" and some things don't have the signs, I think it's pretty well delineated BY THE MUSEUM that some things are touchable and some things aren't. Not touchable things include any that have a sign instructing not to, anything behind glass, anything in a case, or anything behind ropes. Touchable things include anything else.

So anyway, "The Fountain" is sitting right in the middle of the room on a pedestal. There are no signs, no ropes, no glass, no nada. And, I mean really, it's a fucking urinal. Were it not signed, people would have pissed on it and worse. So we touch it and this security guard runs over to us and yells "Don't touch that!!!" And then proceeds to follow us around (keeping a max distance of about 5 feet) the entire time we're in the museum to make sure we don't touch anything else.

All I'm saying is, maybe this wouldn't have happened if there had been a sign - 'cause maybe the museum sort of brought it on itself.

But I'm glad I saw it when I did.

Angry Diatribe Ahoy

2005-12-20T12:32:00.000-08:00

I don't really understand guys. Now, I know what most of you are thinking: you don't understand guys, because you're a girl. While that may be true, I still don't fucking understand guys.

Here's my problem: guys are fucking retarded. Well, the vast majority are. Maybe it has something to do with sunspots, but lately almost all of my female friends have been complaining about the man in their life. And you know what, most all of the complaints boil down to the same things: said male is fucking retarded.

Example 1: Friend's boyfriends plans a surprise birthday party for friend. Sweet, right? Well, yes, except he somehow forgot to invite ALL of her friends and ONLY invited his friends so it was pretty much a party for him.

Example 2: Friend's boyfriend oversleeps often. Every time he oversleeps he gets upset at girlfriend because she "is in charge of the alarm clock."

Example 3: Friend continually asks boyfriend to make the bed if he gets up after her. Every day she has to remind him because he never does it.

Example 4: For some reason, despite being grown men who live on their own and in some cases even have children, the guys I work with (and they're all guys) can't wash a fucking dish to save their fucking lives.

So, I don't get it. Guys who are totally capable and competent human beings, no matter how old they get, still act like fucking 4 year olds suckling on their mother's teat. (And let me tell you what a huge motherfucking turnoff that is.) So what's up with guys - why don't they get it?

Now, I know that I am unfairly grouping some of the (very, very, very few) good guys in with the huge mass of retarded ones. I have one friend who's boyfriend cooks her dinner every night. I have a guy friend who almost innately knows when I'm upset and does what he can to remedy the situation. I have another guy friend that is the biggest gentleman on the planet. But here's what I secretly suspect: save the boyfriend who cooks his girlfriend dinner every night, I swear to god even the good guys I know probably turn retarded once they get regular pussy.

Is that the problem, Guys? Have you been fucked stupid? Would you get your shit together if the punani was cut off?

So, here's the deal. This is what I propose to the women of the world: stop putting up with this shit. You know your man is capable. You know your man is competent. And you know you shouldn't be putting up with his punk ass. So stop. Now, maybe your man isn't capable or competent. Well, then that one is even easier - dump his ass and don't date till you find somebody worthy, with their shit together. Here's the thing - we're not their mothers. 'Cause momma don't screw like that. And if your man is interested in dating his momma, well it's best to end it now anyway.

And to you guys - and it's mainly guys who are reading this diatribe, because I have almost all male friends - for the love of god, get your shit together. You are capable, you are competent and, in my opinion at least, you're just being lazy, irresponsible and (to call a spade a spade) you are fucking using us ladies. So listen wisely, boys, 'cause you never know when your shit is going to be packed and kicked to the curb.

And, please, don't get me wrong here, yes this is partially about Dan (he's a guy.) But, really, this is a general complaint against men - cause the overwhelmingly huge majority of y'all are fucking retarded and I'm really sick to death of putting up with it.

Never Take A SF Taxicab Co Cab!

2005-12-19T17:26:00.000-08:00

Another one of those crazy weekends...

Spent Friday night chopping off my hair. And I do mean chopping, it's now around chin length. This is by far the shortest I've ever gone and I'm still not really used to it. After that I went shopping for my sister's christmas gift and picked her up a little pretty on Haight Street. By the time my hair was cut, the present was bought, the dog was walked and I was fed it was almost 10 - not too mention icy cold. I was supposed to meet up with Dan, but there was no way I was going out to the Mission at that point. I called Dan and we made other plans for the weekend and I crawled into bed and cuddled up for the night.

On Saturday I took Mandy and Chas shopping - the last big shopping weekend is no time to let amateurs lose. I was pretty proud of myself, although we didn't break my record we did manage to get 90% of their gifts within about 3 hours. I know, it's kinda sad - I'm a professional shopper. I raced home after shopping to get ready for Di's surprise bday party.[Sidenote: I was invited to five, count 'em five! parties on Saturday. I felt like the belle of the ball!]

On my way to the party, I saw a cab hit a man. The man managed to walk away with help from a friend and I lost track of the cab. I called the cab company to repot the incident. Here's the convo:

Dispatcher: SF Taxicab Company (I shit you not, I know it sounds generic but that really is the company. Never, ever take a cab from them.) How can we help you.
Me: Uh...cab number #206 (and never take that cab in particular) just hit a man going southbound on Van Ness at McAllister.
D: Does the man need an ambulance? What happened to the cab?
M: The guy was helped off the street by someone. The cab drove off.
D: The cab drove off? Well, I guess the situation resolved itself, now didn't it. *CLICK*

Yeah, that's right, the assholes over at SF Taxicab Co hung up on me when I called to report their driver had hit a man. I'm sorry, but what the fuck?? You know what the worst part is: Dude is still driving a taxi with no consequences and there is nothing I can do about it.

So the bus finally came and I made my way to SoMa for Di's party. Now, don't get me wrong I absolutely, positively love Di to bits and pieces. She is the best fake sister a girl could ever wish for. That being said, I can't fucking stand her Marina-bitch friends. So I get to the fancy pants restaurant and ask for the party. They direct me to the bar where the whores of Union street are standing. Jesus, can you say bleached and bitchy? Not to mention, I swear everyone of those guys was gay. Especially the English guy. But that's just because English guys always sound gay to me. [Sidenote: have I shared with you my theory that England is about as white trash as Europe gets? I swear it's the gulf coast of Europe...]

So I saddle up to the bar and order an Irish coffee to help defrost a little. I'm standing there drinking and they're all standing there drinking and I finally realize I'm going to come across as really rude once they figure out I'm part of the party as well. So I introduce myself and we make awkward small talk as I glare at their tacky ass highlights and they glare at my tacky ass nose ring.

Di finally shows up, so I have someone to talk to. I stay for most of dinner (make that appetizers and a couple of rounds of shots. Even Di was taking them, which was quite the shocker) and then leave to go cross town to my other bday party that night.

I get up to Haight street and make for the Kezar. Naturally, most of my friends are trashed when I get there. Most of all Court. Her party was a lot more fun because it was the usual thing: catching up with my friends while drinking in a comfortable environment. Shove that up your ass, Marina-bitches. Nothing too exciting to report, save a friend who got her clit pierced earlier in the day pulling everyone into the bathroom to show them. Thing was, she was pretty wasted...and wouldn't take "no" for an answer on the viewing...and wasn't really keeping track of who she had shown it to. Me, I saw it three times....

Saturday I woke up surprisingly non-hungover. That was the good part. The bad part? Had to take TJ to the vet in Pacific Heights. I called a couple of friends to see if anyone would give me a ride, no dice. I made my way up there in the thunder storm. Good news! TJ is still certifiably healthy! Anyway, after the appt was over I went back into the storm to catch the bus and the nicest thing happened to me. I was waiting and waiting and waiting for the bus when one of the women who was waiting with me (and had chatted with me about TJ) told me she was taking a cab and would be more than happy to drop me at home "because you need to get the little one inside." See, that's the kinda shit that just makes me love this city.

Anyway, to conclude, here's something that doesn't relate to anything here. Jesse has asked for more Jesse stories because Jesse really likes to read his own name (Jesse.) I suggest Jesse ought to do more interesting things then, cause lately Jesse aint been worth writing home about. Jesse. Jesse. Jesse. There, happy?

Arrrrrrr Matey

2005-12-05T15:58:00.000-08:00

If you couldn't tell by the multitude of name drops (oh, you know, and the fact that you know me) I live in San Francisco. Funny thing about San Francisco right now: pirates are HOT. Possibly even HOTT, it's hard to tell.

[Side note: pirates may be big in other places right now too, but I live in SF and rarely even travel to the distant land of Daly City, so I can't really comment on trends in other citites.)

(This used to be a picture of a skull and crossbones, which has apparently been taken down. For originality, I'm choosing to not replace it.)

But they sure are the shit 'round 'bouts these parts - so much so that I've completely OD'd on pirate theme birthday parties after having gone to a bazillion since March. I even have two eyepatches, a hook, a hat, a sword, the requisite striped shirt (but only if you're not already wearing a puffy one) and even a parrot to sit on my shoulder. OK, lying about the parrot, but it turns out people are willing to call a rubber ducky a parrot for costume purposes when at a pirate theme party.

The point being that pirates are really cool right now and everywhere you look is pirate this and pirate that (mainly pirate emblems on hipster t-shirts, but I digress.) But I kinda have to wonder why. Now, I've seen the Urban Outfitters shirt like everyone else and I get that "Pirates Arrrrrrrrrrr Cool," but they kinda aren't. Don't hate me now, just bear with me for a moment.

Along with the surge in hipsters wearing pirate emblems on shirts that are too tight and/or too short, there also seems to be a huge surge in real pirate activity. No folks, I don't mean "real" pirate activity or software pirating or any of that lame ass shit. I mean pirates who are pillaging and plundering off of the Somali cost.

Like this story:
click me!

or this one:
now click me!

or this one:
click me too!

or this one:
don't forget to click me too!

or this one:
last but not least!

get the point?

It's really interesting to me that, when we have an example of actual pirates actually pirating in our own day and time...why are people still all about them? Pirates don't really seem all that cool to me when you put them in context. Now, I understand that I'm deeply in the minority here (the minority may in fact only consist of me,) but I think the whole pirate thing is alternately totally lame and seriously tragic. Sure, those Urban-Outfitters-shirt-shopping-theme-party -having-hipsters are most likely not connecting (or aware of?) the Somali pirate attacks with the skull and crossbones across their chest, but isn't that the point? That they're not thinking about that? That they're glorifying and mythologizing that?

It just makes me think. What the pirates are doing in Somalia is equal to or less than the havoc that ye olde pirates dealt in. Which means the pirates that people are brazenly wearing are sort of even worse than the ones today. Pirate Blackbeard (no Jesse, not Baldbeard...) was hated and feared for a reason - motherfuckers ripped shit up. Sure, I guess that's part of the allure, but it's really simplifying and denying the majority of the issue at hand.

Yeah, I "get it," but I really don't. What's so cool about pirates anyway?

And, Jesse, before you answer, I already know what you're going to say. Grog. And I just don't really have an answer for that.

A Brave New World

2005-12-01T16:48:00.000-08:00

As referenced many a post ago, I am now one of the proud, the bold, the many - the iPod owners.

I still feel fairly new to this whole iPod gig and I have to say, it's a totally different world under those headphones. Now, I know many people who made the transition from CD player to iPod. I figure for them, it was probably a very easy transition because they were used to being buried in their world of music. I, on the other hand, am a hellish curse on portable CD players and have never had one last for more than 3 months. After years of buying them, I said fuck this shit and have been musicless ever since. Point being, I'm used to the noises of the city. I have a very well tuned city ear.

I know which direction the bus is coming, without even looking. I know approximately how far away someone is by the sound of their steps. I know the sound of wind and of traffic and of many things. I am used to these sounds and, call me crazy, but I love them. Ambient noise is awesome, it's the city's own soundtrack.

When I was in video production, this one girl did a trip on MUNI for her final project. She taped the trip on the 33 from the Mission to right when it turns on to Twin Peaks. The first cut she showed in class was awesome. She took the video and sped it up or slowed it down depending on the action. People boarding the bus - super fast. The bus turning on to Twin Peaks when you see the awesome view of downtown - super slow. Anyway, since this was first cut, she hadn't worked on the sound at all. Therefore, when she altered the speed of the video, though she had turned the sound down, you could still hear it a little and it was a great sonic backdrop to the visuals. Honestly, I was fucking amazed when I saw this video. Not just because the girl was an untalented retard who had produced crap thus far, but also because this was first cut and it was astonishingly beautiful. Long story short, Chickeepoo added a soundtrack and tweaked it here and tweaked it there and we didn't see it as a class until it was presented to the whole world at the University showcase. And it sucked. Once she added the music and took away the ambient sounds it was a totally different movie and not any better for it.

Her movie had a simple, serene quality to it which was amplified by the subtle background noise, naturally matching every movement on screen. When she added the music and edited it, the movie took on the quality of a crappy college level amateur attempt at video. What a shame.

So, this is what I'm getting at: my life has really changed since getting the iPod. The world is very different with a musical soundtrack. It's quite odd to me that the bus just shows up, usually I've heard it since it was several blocks away. Also, people don't ever talk to you (THIS is a pro though.) And, I'm finding I read less. It's just so easy to be all, no, I'm sleepy, I'll just space out and listen to music on the way home. I know, I know...no one is *making* me listen to the iPod. I could walk without it, I could choose to read. And I do. I like to mix and match, depending on my mood. It's just really struck me how different things seem when you change the soundtrack to them.

Oh, and if you were curious, I'm actually not listening to my iPod as I write this. But that's only because my coworker is blasting her crappy Coldplayesq music and you just can't win the battle. Not with those tiny little ear buds, anyway...

Ass v. Balls

2005-11-29T17:09:00.000-08:00

I intended to hold the polls open for a good week or so, but the email votes have stopped rolling in so I figure we can now, finally, tabulate the results.

And with a landslide we have.....balls! The final score was Ass - 2, Balls - 6. One person also did the write in option of shit.

So there you go, sucks balls is way better than ass or shit.

And, furthermore, I'm right once again.

Existential Crisis Averted?

2005-11-29T14:08:00.000-08:00

Quote of the day from Tommy in I Heart Huckabees:

"I'm just gonna accept my loneliness! And I'm gonna go to an even darker place of nothingness! From an even farther, more extreme nothingness on my own!"

OK. Maybe it's one of those things where you really had to be there.

Where We At?

2005-11-28T17:19:00.000-08:00

Survived Thanksgiving, survived TJ's first anniversary, survived the weekend, (barely) survived Monday at work.

*sigh*

I've been so damn down and in such a shitty mood since last Monday. I don't really want to get into details (and by that I clearly mean "I would love to dish details, but the details relate to someone who I know reads this site and wouldn't be very happy about his/her personal details being aired on my stupidass blog.") but suffice it to say, my professional life was totally put into perspective and I realized just how badly said professional life sucks total balls.

[Side note: I've decided I prefer the phrase "sucks balls" to "sucks ass," not just for the way it softly lilts off one's tongue but also because sucking balls is an actual, if repulsive, action...whereas I've heard of a lot of things being done to one's ass, but never it being sucked per se. I guess the closest equivalent would be "licks ass," but that isn't really parallal. Anyone have feelings on this issue?]

But on the other hand, what can I do? I'm very trapped in a prison of essentially my own making.

Much as I would love to continue this diatribe, I want to leave work more. So, until tomorrow.

[Side note:'Tis a pity that I spent the majority of time writing this musing over the differences between sucking ass and sucking balls....]

A Quiet Moment of Reflection

2005-11-23T16:31:00.000-08:00

So, in my continued efforts to try to think less about myself and more about others (hey - all you hecklers can just shut the fuck up,) I'd like to make a list of things I'm thankful for this year.

1. My family. The only people who have been there my whole life and who love me through think and thin, no matter what stunts I pull, no matter how much I'm acting like a bitch and no matter how distant I am. I loves me mum and sisters more than even I know.

2. TJ. Oh, TJ. The cause of and solution to so many of life's little problems. I am especially grateful for TJ this Thanksgiving because it's our very first anniversary!

3. My friends. Oh my god, what would I do without my friends. I love that my greatest friend related problem is not having enough time to spend with all the people I love so much. I have the greatest friends in the world and, living far from family, you guys are what gets me up in the morning and keeps me going throughout the day.

4. My job. I enjoy being able to pay rent. And the iPod Nano was kickass. Everything else...well...in this job market you really ought not complain if you have a job...

5. San Francisco. I fell in love with it when I was a small child and hadn't even visited it yet. The first day I stepped foot on the SF soil I knew it would be my home. Everyday I love this city a little more and remember less that the rest of the world exists.

6. My neighbors/neighborhood. Damn you bitches crazy, damn you bitches great.

7. My education. I've paid enough for the goddamn book learning, might as well be appreciative of the smarts I bought me.

8. My health. This has been my healthiest year yet and I never understood how great health is, or how sick I've been until this year. I even used one of my sick days as a ditch day! Yay health!

9. Super Mario Party 7, MUNI and the driver who lets me on when I forget my pass and my bus buddies, the old lady who asked me if I wanted a ride home because I had so many groceries, the chef at the Kezar pub, alcohol, alcohol, alcohol, happy hours, Craigslist, 70 degree weather in November, flip flops, jewelry, www.perezhilton.com, being smart enough to know better, being too young to care, love, Golden Gate Park, having full use of my senses and limbs, Stephen Colbert, Social Distortion, little Toan who I look for every day, puppies and kittens and dogs and cats, the kindness of strangers, laughing and laughing and laughing, snuggling in bed, pink nail polish, diet Coke, coffee from Philz, America (yes, people, America,) paid holidays, the intensely wonderful feeling you get when you realize this is life...and all those little things which would take me forever to name but are precisely what makes life so intensely wonderful.

Tuesday, 3pm

2005-11-22T14:58:00.000-08:00

It always amuses me to no end whenever someone says "you should read/listen to/watch/go to book/song/movie/place. You'll love it!" It always amuses me, because 9 times out of 10 the person is dead wrong. Like recently, when a friend gave me a CD of Mexican rap music. I fucking hate Mexican rap music. Not sure why the people close to me are so often misguided about my tastes, but it happens quite a bit.

Surprisingly enough, I've had 2 friends recently recommend the same book to me, Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, with them describing it the same way, "you're going to LOVE it! It's SO YOU! I could imagine you writing it!" And you know what? It's a damn fine read.

The last 18 months of my life seems to have progressed rather cyclically. I oscillate between being so happy and joyous about my life and wondering where I've gone wrong and why everyone else is doing so much better than I am. I guess I'm truly caught in the middle of that, half of me really being grateful for everything and have of me wanting more, better, bolder etc. Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs reminds me of that. Reading it, I love it and it reminds me of my writing. So why aren't I doing that? Why am I not pursuing that. Well...for a lot of reasons I guess. It's a hard crevice to be in - stuck between the rocks of accomplishment and goals. Life looks good until you start looking at everything else you want to do, can do, need to do, have to do, will do. Will be.

This is not to say I'm not happy for others - I am. I never understand when people treat life as a zero-sum game. We can all be winners and we can all be losers. But my score really isn't effected by, nor does it effect, yours. I'm very happy for those around me, those who I know and those who I read about, doing well. I just wish that I had more control to do more in my own life.

Am I just denying my own potential to alter the course of my life? Probably yes and no. It's one of those really hard things to track. All I know is it's sort of a weird place to be in right now. In terms of fractions, I think I'm at, like, 3/5 of life right now. It just depresses me some times when I start to wonder if I'll ever be a whole number.

iPod Good

2005-11-03T11:45:00.000-08:00

Many things are awesome. Like this little gem right here:

You may laugh, but we don’t recall ever meeting a journalist who didn’t carry a mini glitter gel pen. And trust us: If Matthew Cooper hadn’t known how to use his confetti flowers, he’d be no better off than Judy Miller.

Learn to be a journalist [Flickr via Gothamist]

But you know what's better than that? The fact that bossman apparently went crazy yesterday and gave EVERYONE on staff an iPod. Everyone! On! Staff! Was! Given! An! iPod! Nano! And I gotta tell you, that's not just awesome -- it's iPod Nano good!

I have put up with an enormous amount of bullshit in the last year. Now, call me cheap...but about 75% of that bullshit has totally been forgiven with the gift of my iPod. One word ladies and gentlemen, one word:

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD!

I'm Alive!

2005-11-01T15:57:00.000-08:00

Man, it's been a long time since I've written on here. It's been so long since I've written on here that my browser doesn't even populate the URL anymore. And, good lord, I clearly need to get out of the tech biz.

So nothing has really been going on in my life lately. Same shit, different day. Work has been slammed lately. Today was the first time in forever we had a full admin staff. I never thought I'd say I was happy to have Jim around. So work sucks and all that, but I made the bold move of kinda quitting the other day. Let's be clear here, I kinda quit which is like when I kinda got fired -- you still show up at work the next day. I simply gave them the heads up that I am looking for another position because they always say they want us to give them the heads up. So, heads up! It came right on the tail ends of someone quitting and right before someone got fired, so clearly my timing on such things is improving.

Halloween was last night and, surprisingly enough, I have no grievous injuries to report. I went as my friend's boyfriend Ben. It was an interesting costume. I went to a party where about 7 people knew Ben and about 50 people didn't. Of course Ben flaked on the party. So, for the 7 people who knew him it was the funniest costume ever (ok, let me give you the picture. He's a whitebread, cheese-fed, phish head. With mad love for the Packers. And loud and obnoxious. Trust me, the costume was really funny.) And for everyone else at the party it was sort of "no, no, really I get it. It's funny. You're one of your friends. Hilarious." (You're imagining all that said in a dead pan voice, right?) In any case, I brought TJ to the party and she was the belle of the ball. She went as Captain Retardo, her superhero alterego. It was really cute. She had a little cape and everything. I barely drank and went to bed early - but it paid off. Like I said, no grievous injuries which is certainly better than I've fared the last several years.

Friends remain good. Except for the aren't. I'm beginning to feel like Typhoid Mary - all my friends are dealing with trauma and tragedy and I'm calm in the midst of it all. I don't want to mention any particular circumstances, I'm trying to not call anyone out, but let's just say my buddies need a lot of love right now.

Dan is still hanging around and we are also still good. The honeymoon is definitely coming to an end and we are beginning to do the compromising and work it takes to maintain a real relationship. Which is scary as fuck for me. But we all know I'm crazy about the guy, so it's well worth it.

I've been really into my future lately (I think because it's a good antidote for the present.) I've been studying and preparing for the SATs and reading more scholarly books. I've also come to the realization that I either need to get television, publishing or advertising experience before grad school. Hence, my kinda quitting at work.

So that's been my life lately. How about you?

The Literal Definition of Irony

2005-10-13T12:10:00.000-07:00

Main Entry: IRO·NY
Pronunciation: 'I-r&-nE also 'I(-&)r-nE
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -nies

Def: incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result

Example: Let's say, hypothetically, you had an assistant. And you fired her. And then hired her back, like, three months later. But she was still a disgruntled employee who hated her job with a passion and was doing her damnedest to quit and go, well, almost anywhere else that paid greater than or equal to that which she currently makes. And then let's say there was a career fair which you needed someone to go to so as to represent the company. Out of any employee who would you pick? If your choice is the assistant, good job. That is the literal definition of irony.

So, clearly, if you need me tonight kids I'll be at a Cal career fair. Until 9:30pm. Which means I won't get home until around 11:00pm. Jesus. All I have to say is I'm showing up drunk and leaving early. And really, I couldn't give a fuck about recruiting for this company. For fuck's sake! - I'm trying to leave it anyway!

Of course, in other news, the office fag has decided he and I are friends. Wow - the men in my office are sorely, sorely misguided....

Bored.

2005-10-10T11:45:00.000-07:00

I'm bored - bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. I'm not even sure why. I was bored all weekend and didn't really feel like doing much of anything. I hung out with Felix on Friday night, which was awesome. I haven't really hung out with the guy in a year, so it was good to catch up with him. I mean, it was also really depressing considering where he's at right now, but Felix and I have always had mad love for each other so it was good to see him and also see that nothing has changed between us.

Saturday I slept in, not because I wanted to or planned to but because I just couldn't wake up! I kept hitting the snooze over and over again and finally I forcibly made myself get up at 12:30. Claire swung by, but then Cess called. So Claire left and I talked to Cess. I always think it's funny when Cess and I talk on the phone, because neither one of us is really a phone person. So conversation always seems a little stilted, even though it's always very nice to speak with her. I guess she's applying to Berkeley (among others) so now I just need to hope she'll go there so I have her back in the bay area! I love selfishly wishing for other people's futures. Dan came over a little while later and we had a little study group. We ended up going to some bar to hang out later that evening. I was in a pissy mood for no good reason at all. It had something to do with being bored - but I don't entirely understand why I'm so restless these days.

Sunday I slept in because I wanted to, dammit. When we got up, Dan and I took TJ to the park and we read. Nice and lazy, just how I like my sundays. We grabbed food, watched part of the Astros/Braves game and then the start of the Yankees. Dan went to work and I finished watching the game. Yankees won! Wow - can you believe I give a shit? Well, it keeps Dan in a happy mood in any case.

So that was my weekend and now I'm back at work. Oh god. I hate work. Well...another 102 hours until the weekend.

Busy Bee

2005-10-04T15:11:00.000-07:00

Busy, busy, busy...I'll try to write something witty soon.

¡Soy La Unicá Que No Es Una Puta!

2005-09-26T17:18:00.000-07:00

What a long strange trip it's been...

Went down to LA for a long weekend to visit Jonathan. Arrived in LA about an hour late due to Southwest's general incompetence. Picked up In N Out and went back to Jonathan and Sasha's place. Woke up early on Thursday to check out Santee Alley, which is apparently heaven on earth. You name it - they got it. It was pretty funny though, doing Mexico light the day before we left for Mexico. After shopping our asses off, Jonathan finally pulled Sasha and I away. We smoked, we ate, we smoked, we passed out. Woke up, went drinking. After getting nice and toasty, we ended up at Jumbo's: a strip club with a clown theme. Jonathan was ridiculous, so Sasha and I took him home and put him to bed.

Next morning we left for Ensenada. I slept most of the way and woke up almost in Me-He-Ko. Crossed the border, found a hotel, shopped more. Ate dinner, passed out.

Woke up Saturday and shopped almost all day. Took a tan/swim break midday. Started heavily drinking. Ate dinner. Sasha and Jonathan got into a fight about fireworks. Jonathan and I left to go drink while Sasha cooled off. This is when the story gets interesting.

One thing you need to know - never follow Martin at Amigo's advice, should you find yourself in Ensenada. So I asked Jonathan where he wanted to go and what did he reply? Un Noche de Paris! The stripclub Martin advised us to go to. We walk in and, at first, it seemed like a shitty strip club. However, with the exchange rate and all...we couldn't really tell what was going on. After Jonathan bought a private dance it became pretty clear though - Martin has directed us to a whorehouse.

No, I'm not shitting you in the least.

So Jonathan is up getting his private dance and I'm alone at the rail. Our waiter rushed right over to me asking "are you ok? Where is your boyfriend? Do you want a bodyguard to come sit with you? Let me know if anyone bothers you - we'll kick him out." I, not being up where the private dances are, still do not really know what is going on. I ask for a light and a beer and reassure the waiter I'm cool and will flag him down if I need him. A little while later, one of the strippers walks over to me and says "you are so beautiful! Your boyfriend has left you? I will take his place!" I tell her, no, really, I'm fine. Go do your dance thing. But this does not persuade her. One of her co-workers comes over and says "beautiful girl! We are taking you home tonight!" I say "no, no, really! My...boyfriend...will be right back. I'm good. No thanks!" But still, they do not take no for an answer. They're rubbing on my shoulders and shit and I do the only thing I can think of - I flag down the waiter. He asks if a man is bothering me. I say no, but these ladies are. He says something to them in Spanish and they walk off, looking forlorn.

Jonathan comes down then and asks how I'm doing. We trade stories and he asks if I want to go soon. I say, hell yeah, let's just finish our beers. Just then one of my stripper-admirers dances over to us. She takes my head, puts it between her boobies and starts rubbing them on the side of my head. I push her away, slam my beer and say "Jonathan! Out! NOW!!!!!" He takes one look at me, slams his beer and we head out as fast as possible.

We go home, I shower shower shower (but, really, it's Mexican water. You actually get dirtier taking a shower.) And I sleep with nightmare of silicon dancing in my head.

The next morning we pack up and go to TJ. We see dogs assfucking. We go back to LA. We eat, we smoke, we sleep. And this morning, I blissfully headed home.

Vacation is awesome - but reality is a cold, hard shock afterwards. And the only thing better than going to Mexico is getting the fuck back to America.

Fuck You, Google

2005-09-14T16:23:00.000-07:00

Fuck you and your blog search engine, Google.

This blog search engine is clearly for retarded mid-westerners who use AOL. And to fuck me over, because I'm employed and have a blog.

So fuck you, Google. Thanks for keeping the anonymous spirit of the internet alive. I'll be sure to figure out some lovely class action lawsuit to bring against you after I get fired.

God, Google is starting to make Microsoft look good. Except for the fact that Google products usually actually work.

Overheard

2005-09-14T15:14:00.000-07:00

So they're doing some sort of construction or maintenance or something on the building in which I work. I'm not really sure, but I do know that it involves scaffolding and twenty-something male workers who appear to be latino.

So, sure, construction is annoying. I don't mind it so much, except for having to keep the windows shut with the blinds drawn. I mean, sure, I could have the blinds open, but there was only so many obscene gestures I could deal with from the mexican worker bees (yeah, it's an assumption. But I bet you Rene's whiteness that I'm right.)

What I've found interesting about the construction workers, other than them nimbly climbing up and down said scaffolding, is overhearing their conversations. Most of them consist of the standard coworker banter. You know the "Fuck you, Julio! You dropped the paint, man!" and the ever popular "Fuck you, motherfucker!" (If I had a dollar every time I said that at work! No, wait...if I had a dollar every time I thought that at work...) Yesterday they spent an hour discussing where to go for lunch - they decided on El Farolito (Dan would be so proud.)

Today, however, things took a spicy little turn. All morning Julio and Eduardo discussed how (and where and when and with what pressure etc) Julio fucked his girlfriend with a vibrator last night. Yeah. Seriously. All morning. There was a lot to discuss.

The building management said the project would only take, like, a week. That was, like, a month ago. Well, fuck me motherfucker, I guess.

Look, I'm Not Retarded. I Can Add Single Digits.

2005-09-08T13:10:00.000-07:00

You know you're in a really bad mood when you bother fighting with the liquor store guy who barely speaks English.

On my way to Claire's house last night, I stopped to pick up a pack of smokes (I know, it's a dirty, rotten, horrible habit, isn't it.) I opted to go to a liquor store I rarely go to, but is on the way to Claire's. When I walk in there are two signs prominently displayed on the counter: one reading "Camels - But Two Get One Free!" and the other reading "Camels - $3.96." So I ask for the two-for-one deal. The liquor store guy says, "$11.00."

I say, "but your sign says Camels are $3.96. And buy-two-get-one-free?"

Guy says, "yes, Camels are $3.96 per pack. Two-for-one is $11."

"Wait, I don't understand, you sign says Camels are $3.96 a pack. Your other sign says Camels are buy-two-get-one-free. Therefore the Camels should be three packs for $8."

"No. Camels per pack are $3.96. Camels buy-two-get-one-free are $11.00"

"Ok. I want a pack of cigarettes. How much?"

"$3.96."

"Ok. I want two packs of cigarettes. How much?"

"$7.92. Plus tax."

"Ok. I want the buy-two-get-one-free deal. How much?"

"$11.00."

"So let me get this straight, your buy-two-get-one-free deal is a lie."

"No. Camels are buy-two-get-one-free. $11.00."

"Ok, let me explain something to you. Your signs read buy-two-get-one-free and one is $3.96. Now if I buy two packs, it's $7.92."

"Plus tax."

"Right, whatever, let me finish. So one pack is $4. Two packs are $8. Buy buy-two-get-one-free and the price is $11."

"Yes. Are you buying cigarettes or not."

"I said let me finish. So you should take your sign down then. Because it's a blatant lie, see. If the cigarettes were actually buy-two-get-one-free then it would cost me $8 to get three packs."

"No, no, three packs are $12."

"Yeah, so your sign is a lie."

"No, buy-two-get-one-free is $11."

"Ok, look, I'm not retarded. I get that there is a discount on the smokes. All I'm saying is your sign is lying by claiming the smokes are buy-two-get-one-free when they are in fact, like, 5% off. Your signs say the smokes are $3.96 or buy-two-get-one-free, which would mean you should be selling me three packs of smokes for, like, $8."

"Three packs of smokes? $12."

"LOOK - your sign says smokes are $3.96 a pack AND buy-two-get-one-free. I want my smokes. I want three packs. And I want it to cost $8."

"You want three packs of smokes? $12."

"Ok. Look. Fine. I'll take one pack of smokes. Here is $3.96."

"$4.30. Plus tax."

"Fine. Fine. Fine. Here's your $4.30, give me my smokes." I begin to walk out after I've had a very long day and was already in a very bad mood which prompted me to be unforgivably rude to the poor foreigner who's just trying to get by and you know is hassled more than he ought to be because his store is on Divisadero. I know all this, but it didn't stop me from screaming back at him, with a long line of customers waiting, "AND TAKE DOWN YOUR FUCKING LYING SIGN YOU LYING MOTHERFUCKER."

Poor guy.

341 Hours...But Really, Who's Counting?

2005-09-07T16:02:00.000-07:00

I'm getting all ready for my trip to LA in two weeks and I couldn't possibly be more excited. I went out to buy bikinis on my lunch break with Rene ($.97! At Old Navy!) and I've borrowed Steph's weekend bag. I'm taking TJ to Rene's house again tomorrow to acclimate her, although I'm still a little terrified of leaving her. I'll probably be in a worse state than she will.

I'm super duper excited for Tijauna too! I haven't been there in years. It's going to be so much trouble with Jonathan and Sasha too. I'm sort of scared...except that Jonathan is so pussy whipped he'll no doubt follow Sasha's decrees (ie no donkey shows etc.) Thank heavens for small favors, right?

I'm also organizing my LA shopping list. So far this is what I've got:

1 - Yellow, ostrich embossed leather weekend bag. Bowling or doctor's bag style. Also acceptable would be apple green, crocodile embossed. But I'd much prefer the yellow.

2 - Oxblood color, elaborately embroidered, Tony Lama style cowboy boots. Very, very excited for these.

3 - Cowboy shirt (optional.) To never ever, not under any circumstances, no matter what, never to be worn with the boots.

4 - Two new pieces. One for at home (I'm betting Claire wants her's back some day.) One to go.

5 - Any kickass vintage pieces I find.

6 - A toddler sized tacky sweatshirt that says Tijuana on it. But only if it's under $5. This is, of course, for the little one.

7 - as many pharmies as we drug mules can carry

I think it's going to be a really great trip. I can't believe I haven't seen Jonathan since February, we used to hang out every day! And I even have a new neighborneighbor now...so much has changed. But I'm sure as soon as I get down there, I will also realize how much between us has stayed the same.

341 hours until vacation!

If Work Was Like Labor Day, I'd Be The Best Employee Ever

2005-09-06T11:06:00.000-07:00

Got drunk Friday night - stayed that way through the weekend.

I went over to Rene and Ben's place on Friday to acclimate TJ before I dump her there for a week. I got super star trashed - to be honest, I don't even know if it was Rene or Court who drove me home! I also had a great dinner cooked by Rene - she's going to make the best wife ever some day!

On Saturday I slept in until 3:30, it was crazy. I didn't even really want to get up, but the numbers on the clock finally made sense and I told myself sleeping any later was just unacceptable. I had plans with Pat to get drunk on Saturday, so I called him when I woke up. Of course he said "be right there!" And was over in a jiffy to pick me up. After I got some breakfast in me (uh...ok, chips and dip) Pat and I started drinking whiskey. I made a fabulous little concoction mixing the whiskey with cream soda. Now, I'm not going to say it's for everyone. But it's pretty tasty and I love the vanilla kick it's got! Pat and I hung out at his place with Jean all evening drinking. I was supposed to meet up with Dan and the newspaper posse and he called me around 9:30 to let me know "well be leaving soon, like, 20 minutes." I told him to call me when he was actually leaving. I then told Pat and Jean "I just need to rest my eyes for a second...just a second...see! I have the phone, I'll wake up, it'll be fine!" And then I drunkenly passed out on their couch. Well, I did wake up when Dan was calling me, which was at 12:30. By that point I just had to tell him "baby, I'm way too tired and drunk to go out and get drinks" to which we all pretty much agreed.

Sunday was a quiet, lazy day. I didn't really do all that much, just hung out at home cleaning mainly. I went to Steph's labor day party Sunday evening, Jean's labor day party Sunday night. Both good, chill. Steph lives in this crazy nice apartment though, so I'm totally going to have to start spending more time there!

Monday was another quiet one. I woke up early with Dan, puttered around the house and then took a nap. Went to Jim's labor day party and then over to Dan's new apartment to help him unpack. I've been very scared to go to his apartment because I pictured this weird hippy commune. It turns out that his room is super nice, I really like it. And his apartment, well, not a hippy commune per se. I think I'm going to refer to it as a mission commune. Final decision on it: the last apartment was way dirtier, but this one might be much scarier.

Well, back to the grind today. Yay LA in two weeks!

It's Friday and You Aint Got Shit To Do

2005-08-27T18:27:00.000-07:00

So, last night was a little crazy.

I met up with Dan at his place, where Elyse, The Famous Ben King and Crackhead Chris has already gathered. I don’t think I mentioned it, what with the stomach flu and all, but there was a little incident last weekend with Crackhead Chris threatening my life. Dan’s pretty sure he was kidding, but I’m a little wary nonetheless.

In any case, I met up with the group after they had already started drinking. As Dan finished writing up his story for the newspaper, Elyse, Ben and I shared a blunt. Crackhead Chris put on the Stones and he and Ben started doing their best Mick impressions up and down Dan’s room. They actually did a pretty good job. I asked Chris to put on Wild Horses for me and somewhere along the lines of him serenading me with it, he somehow got it into his mind that Wild Horses was my most favorite song of all time.

Dan and I finally organized the troops to move to the bar. Ben demanded we stop at the corner store and get a drink for the long walk to the bar. For reference purposes, it’s like 7 blocks. Short ones. Anyway, when we got to the liquor store, Elyse asked the liquor store dude if the piñatas hanging from the ceiling were for sale. He said no, but she could have one for free. The Famous Ben King borrowed a step ladder and pulled it down for her. The funniest part being we of course left it somewhere during the course of the evening.

So for some reason, I was feeling ignored by Dan, which did not make me very happy. We talked and worked it out (I love that we never actually have arguments or anything. It’s always just issue, discuss, resolve, over it.) Anyway, I was feeling ignored and was therefore acting like a brat. Chris observed some difference between Dan and I and said “well, guess you guys weren’t meant to be after all. Guess you’ll just have to break up.” So I turned to Dan and said “alright, we’re broken up. Bye.” And started to walk away. Usually when I pull that shit, Dan grabs my arm before I’m even able to take a step. This time he let me walk, when I was feeling ignored anyway. So after about 10 feet I turn and say to Dan, “You’re not even coming after me?” And Chris said “Sweetheart, you know if you break up with Dan, you’re breaking up with the whole group of us. And I just don’t think you could tangle with this bunch. So get your ass back over here.” And that was funny. Not so much funny ha ha, but funny like that’s very true and Chris may very well kill me some day.

We headed over to Mission Bar, which was packed and sucked. I’ve been to Mission Bar four times now. Two of them were packed and horrible, two of them were deserted and wonderful. I’m drawn on the Mission Bar, but I tend to dislike it. I have no idea why Dan loves it so much. Anyway, after Fong had met up with us we headed out of Mission Bar to check out Benders. Around this time, Crackhead Chris decided he absolutely, positively needed to do some blow. On the way to Benders, Chris and Elyse decided we should go to the international bar on 19th. I think Chris was just playing the odds game on his blow search. Dan and I talked them out of that place and proceeded to Benders – where their was a cover. We walked on to Theives, ordered beers and Chris promptly puked in the garbage can.

Dan, being the wonderful friend and boyfriend he is, walked off to play Wordster with Alex Fong while I babysat Chris. Chris was just in love with Paul, the bartender, for some reason. He kept yelling at him about the As, luckily they’re both fans. Other Chris stunts of the evening were him serenading me again with Wild Horses and grabbing some stranger’s beer, directly out of the guy’s hand, and trying to drink it. I don’t know why Chris doesn’t get his ass kicked more often. Dude was cool about it and I promptly reprimanded Chris with a “No! NO! NO, BAD CHRIS! You DO NOT steal stranger’s beers! Bad, BAD Chris!” Funnily enough, he just turned and stared at me with lost puppy dog eyes. Exactly like when I reprimand TJ. So Ben and Elyse had disappeared to make out or something and I pulled Dan aside to point out I didn’t know how long Paul was going to put up with Chris’ antics for. Dan argued for half a second, then looked at Chris and said “yeah, I see. Um…let me just finish my drink then.”

After we left, the group decided food was in order. Some genius decided Mr. Pizza Man was the best option and so we actually ate there. As we passed the restaurant, the entire kitchen staff happened to turn and stare at us as we walked past their window. All glaring. Chris started to freak out because “Mr. Pizza Man hates us!” But a desire for chicken wings prevailed and Chris, Dan, Fong and I ordered while Ben and Elyse walked off to make out or something. Wild Horses came on again in Mr. Pizza Man, so Chris serenaded me again as I babysat him while Dan and Fong smoked outside.

I had to go to the bathroom badly and Mr. Pizza Man’s bathroom was honestly one of the worst I have ever seen. So, I made Dan take me home and Fong bring us our food when it was ready. The food was bad, bad, bad (as it always is from Mr. Pizza Man) and the blue cheese dressing for the chicken wings separated into some clear oily substance and chunks of cheese. Ok, I get that’s basically what the dressing is anyway, but it melted or something and was fucking disgusting. The worst part being, El Farolito was still open when we walked past.

So we’re back at Dan’s house and Fong brings us food. Then Ben and Elyse wander in. Finally Chris shows up after his final attempt to get blow failed (sorry, but I was joyful. I fucking hate that shit.) We’re all eating and drinking and smoking and chilling when Ben makes some ordinary comment. Dan gives him a smart ass response, to which Ben replies, yelling “FUCK YOU DAN, I’M SO FUCKING SICK OF YOUR FUCKING SHIT.” Calm, mellow, chill as fuck Ben. And then Ben leans back on the couch and immediately passes out. Probably my favorite moment all night. Chris had passes out on Dan’s kitchen floor by then (ewwwwwwww) so Dan and I told Elyse g’night and peaced out.

Pretty amusing all in all.

I'm Alive!

2005-08-26T16:08:00.000-07:00

Well, even though everyone probably thinks I fell off the face of the planet, I actually just got the stomach flu and was crying on the bathroom floor while puking for three days. See, this is why I never go to the East Bay. I go there for three fucking hours and end up sick for three fucking days. Fuck you Berkeley, fuck you!

Anyway, I spent last weekend partying with Dan et al. It was Elyse's birthday on Sunday, we were kind of assholes about that. She wanted to go to Club Six on Saturday night and we more or less refused...and then hung out next door at the Arrow Bar while everyone else partied it up at Six (well, Dan P. was an asshole with us. So it's ok then.) Then on Sunday I ended up sleeping all day so I didn't even call her to tell her happy birthday. Ah well.

Sunday night I went to bed around 10 and everything was totally fine. Dan woke me up when he got in around midnight and I was doubled over with a stomach ache. I fell back asleep and woke up around 2, puking. Kept puking for another 12 hours. Slept for another 24. Tried eating toast, puked for another 12 hours. Finally, I started getting better on Wednesday. DAMN. That sucked.

So, here I am, finally back at work. It's kinda cool that I have such a lameass job, if for no other reason then there really wasn't even much catch up for me to do. Woo hoo. But I'm back here now, hating it as much as ever. [Note: I had this period of insanity early Thursday morning when I was really, really happy to be back at work. That period has luckily passed and I'm back to loathing every second of this miserable job.]

I had my first solo big girl meeting today with the former president of the SF Ad Club (like, when it was a real club. Not like now. Fucking fakers...) Bossman only gave me about 20 minutes warning that said meeting was taking place, so I classically strolled in wearing flip flops and jeans. Didn't even fix my hair. Gotta love it. But the meeting went really well, dude seemed to like me. He said he was "impressed with how professionally I've taken over the club" and "the quality of work I put into it." Right, I'd love for him to see me bitching to Rene behind the scenes about SFAKE and how much I hate the steaming pile of bull shit.

No big weekend plans....except going to Target!!! I heart Target so much I would marry it if I could. Although, considering corporations have most of the rights of individuals, maybe someday America can take it's corporate consumer love to the next level. I could dream, right.

So 82 minutes until the weekend. And if the last 158 minutes has taught me anything, it's that these next 82 minutes will be loooooooonnnnnnnnggggggggggg ones.

Chas Rocks (When He's Not Getting Me Sick)

2005-08-18T15:27:00.000-07:00

Mighty Morphin' Power Murderers!

2005-08-18T15:08:00.000-07:00

Former child actor faces murder charge Prosecutors: Wealthy couple thrown overboard

Wednesday, August 17, 2005 Posted: 2050 GMT (0450 HKT)

SANTA ANA, California (Reuters) -- A former child actor and his wife were ordered to stand trial Tuesday for the murder of a wealthy California couple who, prosecutors say, were tied to the anchor of their yacht and thrown overboard alive, never to be seen again.

Orange County Superior Court Judge John Conley ordered 26-year-old Skylar Deleon, who once starred in the "Power Rangers" TV series, and his wife, 24-year-old Jennifer Henderson Deleon, to stand trial for the murders after a two-day preliminary hearing in Santa Ana, south of Los Angeles.

Also bound over for trial in the case, which baffled police for months as they searched for the missing couple, were a member of the Crips street gang and a prison guard who are accused of helping carry out a conspiracy to steal the 55-foot luxury yacht "Well Deserved."

"It's haunting to think these nice, loving people were trying to hold their breaths as they sank to the bottom of the ocean," Deputy District Attorney Matt Murphy said during the hearing. "This is as cold-blooded as it gets."

Prosecutors say Deleon came up with the plot after spotting the yacht for sale in a boating magazine last November and meeting owners Thomas Hawks, 57, and his 47-year-old wife Jackie.

He is accused of enlisting the help of 40-year-old gang member John Fitzgerald Kennedy and ex-jailer Alonso Machain, 21, to carry out the murder on November 15, 2004. Machain has since confessed to police and will be tried separately.

Attorneys for the Deleons rejected the charges and during the hearing attacked the credibility of Machain, who is expected to be a star witness for the prosecution.

A police detective testified during the hearing that Deleon and his then-pregnant wife posed as interested buyers and convinced the Hawks to take the yacht on a test run.

Miles off the coast of Newport Beach, prosecutors say, Thomas and Jackie Hawks were attacked with a stun gun, handcuffed and gagged with duct tape. After signing over power of attorney to one assailant, they were tied to the boat's 66-pound anchor and thrown overboard.

The couple was reported missing by relatives and police were led to the Deleons, who produced a bill of sale for the yacht and the power of attorney. Authorities believe the bill of sale was falsified.

Police also found that Deleon had unsuccessfully tried to access the Hawks' bank account in Arizona using the power of attorney.

**Note: Ernest (from the office) tells me that dude "wasn't even a real Power Ranger, he was, like, an extra on one or two shows." So there you go.

And, Did I Mention

2005-08-17T17:16:00.000-07:00

that the Western Addition is the most deadly neighborhood in the city!

Ha ha ha ha ha!

It's a Small, Small World After All

2005-08-17T16:28:00.000-07:00

Here's a funny story for ya!

So I used to live at a charming little apartment in Lower Haight known as "The Crack Den" to, well, everyone. Calling it a crack den was a misnomer, of course, because, as far as I know, crack was one of the few drugs not done there. The roommates at the crack den were a very interesting bunch:

Carlos - The daddy of our dysfunctional family, Carlos lived with his wealthy sugar daddy (sugar baby? dude was, like, a decade younger than Carlos) in Hawaii 9 months of the year. He would fly to SF for pride and other dragstravaganzas, but mainly was totally unreachable. His greatest contribution to the household was his cat that lived there. She was a little bitch. And I hated his friends who came to feed her too. But Carlos had cancer so he was good for pot cookies. I liked that a lot.

Francisco - Francisco and I were at one end of the house and the other bedrooms were at the other end. So Francisco and I bonded a lot over a shared hatred of the living quarters. Francisco worked at Eros in the Castro as a gay sex worker. Yup, you read that right, he was a gay sex worker. Let me tell you, I never asked him how work went. Francisco was nice in a "gay boy from a small town just moved to the city" sort of way.

Revolving door - Very small room which was super shitty and we overcharged for it. I don't think anyone stayed more than a month or two here. There was a creepy art student I remember and a nice girl. God this room sucked.

Eric - Oh, Eric. Eric was the reason we called it the crack den. Which was grossly unfair as Eric was a speed freak. Eric was a classic speed freak. Didn't shower. Didn't sleep. Didn't pay rent. Had shady ass people (usually 10-15) over all the time. Stole. Lied. Violent. Crazy. We hated Eric, but couldn't get him to leave. Literally. I got to know so many guys at the Northern Precinct station because of Eric. I'm still afraid of Eric. Every once in a while I think I see him and I start to have a panic attack as I flee the scene. Oh, Eric...

So I finally moved out of the crack den after a certain event with one of Eric's charming friends, Micah. Micha had a little crush on yours truly. Despite trying to woo me with such lines as "you know I've done time, right?" I never warmed to him. One night someone pounded on my (deadbolted) bedroom door at, like, 3 in the morning. They didn't stop so I finally got out of bed to check it out. There was Micha, totally strung out, holding a butcher's knife. He started walking towards me and I started to panic, thinking "wow, so this is how I die." Rather than slice me from gullet to gills as I expected, he gently handed the knife to me and told me to think of him every time I use it. I grabbed the knife, shoved Micah out of my room and re-deadbolted the door. Then I called Momma to tell her I was moving. Immediately. Cost be damned. Momma agreed.

So what's the point of this story? I'm interviewing some dude tomorrow that lives at...The Crack Den! What are the fucking odds of that? And he lists embroidery as one of his special skills. Let me tell you, I am soooooo looking forward to this interview!

Micah, by the way, later went on to date Magda, everybody's favorite strung out USF speed freak. It really is a fucking small world.

Grad School Options

2005-08-09T14:43:00.000-07:00

1. Syracuse
2. Stirling (cross your fingers!)
3. New School (the good one in NY, not the crappy one in SF)
4. Johns Hopkins

Yeah, I'm just as surprised by that last one as you. But they have a media research program (no telling as to how good it is though.) Now I just need to wait for their brochures to arrive at my house in 2 - 8 weeks and I can check them out. Yay!

I Heart Plagiarizing From Other Blogs

2005-08-08T17:09:00.000-07:00

Okay, Tara Reid. Take a seat, baby, because we need to talk.

You do realize that you have a problem, right? That when your behavior and appearance makes Paris Hilton look like Grace Kelly, something has gone horribly, horribly wrong? Also, that your new fake boobs are really, really too big and, honestly, that smooshing them down like that is neither comfortable, nor flattering?

Do I have to be blunt here?

Okay.

You're THIRTY DAMN YEARS OLD. YOUR LIFE SHOULDN'T BE A GIRLS GONE WILD VIDEO TWENTY FOUR HOURS A DAMN DAY. GET A GODDAMNED GRIP.

And buy a shirt that fits. Jeezy Chreezy. My boobs hurt just looking at you, kiddo.
(Go Fug Yourself)

Discretion on Public Transportation

2005-08-05T11:47:00.000-07:00

So I get on to the 24 last night and it was empty except for a couple seated in the second row of seats. I sat down in the front row. Then the girl turned to the guy and said, "look at her earrings. I should have worn my hooker earrings tonight."

Now, mind you this is an empty bus. Which means a silent bus. And I was, after all, sitting a mere 1.5 feet away from this conversation. There is no way for me to have missed what she had said, unless I was deaf or didn't speak the language. But I'm not and I do and I think that most Americans assume most people they see in America (a) are not hearing impaired and (b) speak the language. Which leads me to my point, can we have a little discretion while on public transport, people? What the fuck?!? I'm all about making fun of the shit people wear and do on the bus, but I certainly make sure I am out of ear shot before doing so. What assholes. And it was this fat fag hag chick and little eurotrash fag. The girl was wearing a Canadian tuxedo, for the love of god. What do they know?

And for the record, those earrings are totally not hooker hoops.

Jimmed Part Deux

2005-08-04T17:01:00.000-07:00

So I'm trying to work out a phrase for when you get totally fucked over because you were jimmed. This is what I've come up with so far:

Jimmed all night long
Jimmed sideways
Bent over a table and jimmed
Jimmed up the ass
Jucked

suggestions???

So A Rabbi Walks Into A Bar

2005-08-04T11:42:00.000-07:00

and for some reason Jew jokes are just funny. Haha funny, I swear.

Heh...Blogs...

2005-08-04T11:39:00.000-07:00

Hottest tech trend of 2005, my ass.

I Swear, I'm Cool Now (aka The Longest Blog Entry Ever)

2005-08-03T12:27:00.000-07:00

So, I had a long talk last night with Di and she straightened me out on life. I love Di so much, she's the best fake sister a girl can have! I had a moment when I felt really sad that I called Di for sisterly advice rather than, say, one of my sisters. But we all know that Mel doesn't count and it was 10pm so Kate probably would have been pissed had I called her up at midnight (Chitown) to discuss my stupid preoccupations. Anyway, Di straightened me out and I feel much better and I've chilled a lot. Now I just need to remind myself to stay chill.

Oh, and many people have asked if I'm flipping out about my review. No - fuck that shit. I had my review and exactly what I thought was going to happen happened. My review wasn't great, bossman was a dick, I got a puny raise. Blech. It was just really disappointing that I was so down about my review, but I predicted everything exactly.

Anyway, I've had nothing to do today (I love it! Love it!) So I've been spending most of the morning researching grad schools. God, I want to go to Stirling so badly...but sadly I don't think that's in the cards for me. So I started looking at Syracuse again pretty seriously.

On a side note, I understand that Syracuse is going to suck shit and I'm going to hate it. I will be cold. I will be lonely. I will be sad. TJ will also be cold and sad (she doesn't have any friends, so you can't get any lonelier than that.) I will be miserable. I know about the snow. And the heat. And how I won't be able to wear flip-flops year round. I know all this. And there is one thing that prevails over all other facts: his name is Robert Thompson. Fuck you Robert Thompson for being brilliant and the #1 US media scholar AND for deciding to be based out of Syracuse. Fuck you. *Sigh* But I digress...

So, Syracuse then. Upstate New York. Woo.

Looking at their programs, it really does seem like the place to which I'm meant to matriculate. Their media management program looks pretty cool. It's not necessarily my passion, but it may be a much more lucrative choice than their media studies program. Now the media studies program, damn that shit looks fun! It's almost exactly the same track I chose in college. And we all know what a dork I am and how much I loved that shit. So I'm pretty sure I would take to it like a duck to water. About 50% of the media studies grads go on to PhDs (which is what I would probably do) and the rest pretty much go on to executive positions. So that's very encouraging.

One funny note, looking through the future career options for the different programs it seems like an almost steady 50% of students go on to doctorate degrees and the other 50% go on to executive positions. Not so for PR...most of their grads go on to AAE positions. Whoa - that's shitty. There's no point in even getting a masters when you're going on to an AAE position. Also, look at the earning potential there. SF is an insane advertising market and AAEs make about $30,000 a year here. If you lived in Atlanta or the midwest or something, you'd be looking at making about $20-25,000 a year as an AAE. AEs really only make about $35,000 in SF. So...basically you'd pay more for your masters in PR then you could hope to recoup. What idiots. But I guess that's PR for ya :)

So at this juncture, I would like to introduce the first ever Western Edition poll. Please post your answers in the comments section!

Q: Would I be a pussy for going to domestic grad school?

I've Done Gone Crazy

2005-08-02T17:22:00.000-07:00

Time is fabulous. I love time. It's like breathing...it's quite a handy thing until it aint there any more. My one qualm with time? You get enough of it and you start crazy obsessing on stupid ass shit. Or at least I do. Wait...you don't?

So I've had a lot of time on my hands lately, both at work and at home. What have I done with it? Well, firstly I've absolutely adored all the alone time. Secondly, I've been spending way too much time thinking about certain topics. What topics? No matter...what we are more concerned with is my ability to become totally and completely obsessed with something that doesn't matter at all, which I know doesn't matter and I can even rationalize it not mattering...but I can't get it out of my head. What's up with that shit? I'm really over it. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to take certain thoughts and just remove them from your consciousness altogether. Granted, that would probably serve society much better as some sort of a victim recovery process rather than "stop me from going crazy" but I think the point remains. If modern science can map the human genome, clone human beings AND make Britney Spear's boobs change size by multiple cups every two months, they can sure as hell do something about ridding one of repetitive thoughts.

Well, until then, at least there's tequila. Mmmmm....tequila....

Random Thought of the Day

2005-08-02T14:06:00.000-07:00

You know how Donald Trump's "thing" is always proclaiming this or that thing is the greatest in the world...is that some sort of play off his name? Like, he trumps all? Just wondering.

Long Islands - A Good Way To Start the Weekend

2005-08-01T17:21:00.000-07:00

A fun weekend, albeit not the most productive.

After work Rene and I stopped by YB. Well, not really YB, we actually stopped by Mr. Smokescrackalot's alley way, but the effect was the same. After that we headed on over to some yuppie-ass bar in the financial district for a required work happy hour. Bossman was caught up with server issues so he gave me cash and told me to hold down the fort. Clearly my interpretation of that was: "Long Islands for everyone!" So, we forced the intern and the new kid to get Long Islands and then after that there was enough peer pressure to persuade everyone. I got trashed (yay! my first work event I got trashed at...despite working here for over a year!) and most people did too (Shit bossman even said to me "Kiddo - you're in charge next week!) After happy hour, Rene and I walked Rabbit back to Market, stopping at YB again on the way. When I got home I took TJ for a walk, more she walked me as I was in one sorry ass state. Then I sat down to play with her for "just a minute" and then it was Saturday morning.

Saturday I putzed around until it was time to give blood. Now, I hate to hate on an organization like the Blood Center - but I had an appointment for 1 and they made me wait an hour and a half. It's like, what's the point of making an appointment? I understand why they wouldn't want to dissuade any walk-ins, but damn, put them at the bottom of the list. I was considering walking out, but that made me feel like a babykiller or something. Anyway, they finally took my blood and I stumbled home to rest. Saturday night Di took me on a proper date: dinner and a movie. Dinner was yummy, the movie was pretty lame. But at least it was nice to be treated like a lady.

On Sunday I went to Stern Grove to check out the opera. I tried to kill as many birds with one stone as possible and so I managed to hang out with Jamie and Melissa (it was their brilliant idea, to be honest,) Mandy, Court, Rene and Elyse all at once. PHEW - what a social load off. The opera was very cool, but I was distracted by other things. After the opera Mandy, Elyse and Court headed back to my house. Where I realized my computer is broken. Maybe. I have to wait until Chas is back to really sort things out...damn that sucks. Jesse says it's a "sin virus" or basically karma for ripping and burning...but what does Jesse know? Stupid jew face. (Incidentally, it's a well known fact that Jesse only reads his friends' blogs to see if they have a shout out to him somewhere. I wonder if "Stupid jew face" will count as a shout out. Incidentally, that's a well known nickname of Jesse's - it's not like I'm making it up.) I finally kicked my guests out around 8:30 and then tried to do something about my shithole of an apartment. But not that much. Then I sat down to my read my new book (free! from a bar!) and passed out.

Weekends are going too fast. Actually, the older I get, the faster time is going period. It's August, people, August!

August!

The Stylish Crackhead Lives!

2005-07-29T14:27:00.000-07:00

I haven't seen my favorite crackehead, Stylish M. Smokescrackalot, in quite some time and I started assuming the obvious - dude is dead. But nooooooooo!!! I was so happy to be walking down an alley on my way to work this morning and to see him passed out in the gutter. (Wait, let me rephrase that. I was happy to see him, not happy to see him passed out in the gutter.) Now, he wasn't wearing the duds I originally fell in love with him for, today he was wearing a camo themed ensemble: camo cargo pants, beige sneakers, beige shirt. But I was so tickled pink I forgave him for the horrible choice of patterns. Still covered in this city's filth (and I imagine quite a bit of his own) but, still lovable. Oh Stylish, how I've missed you!

One question, really though, what's up with this guy's wardrobe? He's clearly a crackhead. He's gotta be homeless. Yet, dude's got style. Maybe he's just really picky at the goodwill or something. Who knows.

Coming and Going

2005-07-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

Weird thing also happened on my way home yesterday. I got on the bus and a couple of stops later (in the TL, natch) a crackwhore sits down next to me. She's wearing a big shoplifting jacket and the pocket is open. Out a soda falls, right on to my foot. I pick it up and hand it back to her. A couple of minutes later, a lighter falls out of her pocket. I pick it up and hand it back to her. She gazes at me suspiciously and then asks loudly, in her gravely crackwhore voice, "What?!? You got my stash too?!?" At which point she stands up, starts searching her pockets, finds whatever it is she's looking for and harrumphs down the aisle to another seat.

Gotta love MUNI.

Fulton 5 - Stayin' Alive

2005-07-25T12:57:00.000-07:00

Had an interesting bus ride this morning (not too many ballerinas, thank god!)

First of all, I saw the worst drag queen ever. (S)he was dressed all businessy and, maybe this is wrong of me, but I feel you need a certain frivolity in your outfit to be good at being a drag queen. I know, I know, there are plenty of business men who love to throw on an Elli Tahari, but they suck. All those Tina Turner impersonators (Tia - looking in your direction!) that's where drag is at. So anyway, (s)he was wearing a businessy outfit which just made me sad. Second, (s)he was wearing white tights. And, ok, I know (s)he's newish to the femme dressing...but here's a tip which anyone who wears leg-ware must know: white tights were made by the devil to make all legs look fat. Yep, even yours. Finally, (s)he had bright orange clown hair. There is no way that color is natural, which means (s)he actually picked it out. What makes it even worse is (s)he had hard core male pattern baldness, so (s)he had hair slightly past shoulder length and then a big old bald spot. Which the orange accentuated even more. Whoa, was that a good time at 8am on a monday morning.

Next, the ballerinas all got off at the wrong step...in the middle of the projects. For half a second I thought I might say something to them....but my evil half took over and I just watched the panic on their faces as the bus drove off. (Before you think I'm totally evil - they got off two stops before they should have, which is a grand total of 4 blocks and it was 8:10am in the projects, not 3:10am AND it was the Fillmo' projects, not like HP or anything. So I probably should have said something, but those bitches need to learn the line if they're going to ride it.)

Finally, as the mass exodus occurred at 8th and Market, I swear I saw the prefect of Wanganui get off (do you watch Reno 911? 'Cause it's a Reno 911 reference.) That was just fucking hilarious. Luckily, he didn't smell and I think he may have actually been wearing more layers and boas, but damn. If that wasn't the prefect of Wanganui, I don't know who the hell is!

The prefect is the black guy...sorry - that's the best pic I could find

At Your Fingertips...

2005-07-22T16:20:00.000-07:00

Ok, but really, what's up with digits and dining?

It's really getting worrisome.

What - You Gonna Judge Me?

2005-07-22T16:16:00.000-07:00

So, it's time for my yearly review (dear god, have I really been at big girl job a year?!? Holy shit!) and, if I've learned one thing about big girl world, it's that reviews suck.

Now, I'm fully expecting to get ripped a new asshole here. Why? Not because I deserve it in anyway, but because bossman is super, super cheap (insert your culturally inappropriate joke here) and you can't very well justify a small raise with an outstanding review, right? So, since I'm fully expecting a piddly little raise, I'm full on expecting to be bent over the table in my review. However, this isn't the reason that reviews suck ass.

The reason why reviews suck so hard is because you have to be on super best behavior for about a month before your review, but certainly in the weeks leading up to it. Be on time, be on point, be perfect. Which I'm not great at. Also, I have been so ridiculously stressed out and slammed - and I know bossman knows because he's crafty and evil like that - but it's not like I can say anything, because right before your review is NOT the time to puss out.

So I've been stressed and busy and cranky and tense and work has sucked more than usual because of all these factors. God, I can't wait until Wednesday...my review will be over and I will be free to slack. Shit, I haven't even had time to dash off one line emails, things have been so crazy around here. But Wednesday...that's what is keeping me going. That and the weekend which officially starts in 77 minutes.

Oh, and for the record, should the raise be piddly my ass is out the door. A wise man once told me, "bossman really fucked up when he tried to fire you, couldn't find a replacement and had to beg you to come back. He lost all credibility and power there - and if you're both smart, you both know it." So, if bossman wants me, which he reportedly does, he's gonna have to show me the money.

Oh god, I even hate myself for using that line.

Doin' My Civic Duty

2005-07-20T12:25:00.000-07:00

Ah, jury duty. That which separates men from boys and felons from the general public.

So I had jury duty yesterday, my first jury duty ever. To be honest, I was a little excited about it. I have to go sit and read all day? Really? And you'll pay me for this? Uh, ok, sign me up! I mean, I didn't want to get called or anything like that, but to sit around for an afternoon or two was fine by me.

So I got off work early and headed to the court house. First of all, you could totally bomb that shit. Orange alert, my ass. They herd you through the metal detector (I saw people going two at a time, they don't give a fuck.) And you have to put your bag through the x-ray machine, but really? I don't even see the point when security is that lax to begin with.

I turned in my juror questionnaire and sat down in the closest seat, which happened to be next to a gorgeous guy. We struck up a conversation, which was actually quite pleasant and we spent the afternoon chatting (Dan - no worries, ok.) I was quite amused that one of our clients also had jury duty yesterday (make that two clients - but one I didn't know about.) I was also quite amused to run in to a couple of old friends: Ernest from CCAC and Steph from Anthro. Small world, these SF courts.

So I sat and sat and read a little and talked to my lil court buddy. Around 3:30 I started getting freaked out that, as my name hadn't been called, I might have to come back for another day of civic duty lovin. I also noticed that the room we were in (007, hehe) had cleared out significantly...which was just about when our judge came in. Yep, they had whittled us down to the juror group they wanted - and we were it. The judge started off by explaining we had been chosen as the pool for a longer than normal trial, "at least 7 weeks, but probably closer to 9" we were told. I calculated my expenses for a second, realized I'm broke and there is no way in hell I could go without pay for 5-7 weeks. Juror Buddy has the exact same thought I did and we booked to the front of the room to attempt to get our asses excused. My "hardship defense" was "my ass is broke." Or something along the lines. In any case, the judge sort of shrugged and said "fair enough," but I wasn't out of the woods quite yet.

I had to sit around for a little while longer and all of a sudden I realized they were calling my name. They gave me the first degree about who I was, like, they repeatedly asked if I was who I claimed I was and then they made me spell both my names (they didn't do that to anyone else, by the way.) Finally, after the longest pause in the world the clerk announced, "you can go."

So, I'm off the hook for another year. Now, I maintain I don't mind the civic duty. In fact, if the case is about a week in length, I'm all for it! I think it would be fun to sit on a jury for a little while (can you tell I've never been on one before?) But 9 weeks? No, no, no. None of that for me. So, until next year...may god have mercy on your souls, because you know that jury won't.

Sad Macs

2005-07-18T13:45:00.000-07:00

Today is Monday, duh, but it feels like one of those very classic, oft parodied, bad Mondays. The weather is blah, I'm sick, Trader Joe's changed their tamale recipe, a friend's sister died over the weekend and then I was reading Jesse's friend's blog from Kuwait.

I'm not saying the world's a bad place or anything, I'm just saying a lot of bad shit seems to be happening to or revolving around people I know.

And poor Felix, really though, poor, poor Felix. What a shitty year. I guess the worst part of knowing what he's going through (and, yeah, I don't know exactly what he's going through, but out of the general population, I come pretty goddamn close) is knowing just how badly he's hurting right now and knowing that there is not a single thing I can do to help him. Damn. Poor, poor Felix.

I Blame Chas

2005-07-14T12:29:00.000-07:00

I'm sick.

Blech.

I blame Chas, the only sick person I've been around lately.

I was paranoid yesterday that it was strep ('cause, ya know, I get strep like most people breathe.) But it feels the same today, so I know it's not strep ('cause it would be much, much worse.)

It's just a cold. But still, blech.

Naptime.

Kateebugs

2005-07-13T10:09:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry I forgot to say hi to you, my hatred for the ballerinas blinded me beyond reason.

Hello!

xxoo

Keeping on Your Toes

2005-07-12T12:11:00.000-07:00

Summer in San Francisco brings to mind many things: tourists, fog and, to us riders of the Fulton 5, ballerinas.

Until I got this whole big girl job thing, I never really gave the ballerinas much thought. I had seen them around school during summer session and all, but they had no impact on my life so I never gave two shits about them. Now I have to commute to big girl job every day and now I fucking hate those little brats.

(the enemy)

Every summer USF hosts ballet camps. For, like, 50,000,000 girls. And 2 or 3 guys. The kids stay at USF and then get off at 8th and Market to go to ballet class. These little brats are the bane of my existence. See, usually I don't bitch about public transport in the bay area. We have above ground, we have underground, we have ferries - we really have a pretty good system. I, out of sheer desperation, kind of even like muni. It gets me where I need to go in a more or less convenient way and is cost effective and better for the environment. That being said, muni needs more busses on its lines and instead they cut busses every year. Riding in the morning can be a bitch, especially on a popular line like the 5. I commute at a slightly off time, so there's usually no problem. That is, when the fucking ballerinas aren't around.

The first bus to come by this morning passed by full. On the second one, it was about half full but could fit in the next two or three stops worth of people. I hate the fucking ballerinas and was in a huff about them on the ride downtown. So I started counting them - 17 on my bus alone. Yep, 17. Which means all the front seats are taken (and I'm lazy and all, but I'll give an old person a seat. Not these prima donnas.) Which means the bus is extra packed. Which means, figuring a bus can fit about 60 people sardined in, almost 1/3 of it was ballerinas. And that was just my bus! I hate those damn ballerinas and they're taking up space in my bus. Those little bitches are so rude and so inconsiderate. I know a bunch of people have switched lines...but it's a trade off. Wait awhile for a packed bus....or wait indefinitely for the 21 or 31. And I do mean indefinitely. Might be 5 minutes, might be an hour.

The thing is, public transport is allocated by popularity and density. The 5 is a heavy line, but bearable normally. However, what with the strain of the ballerinas, the system breaks down entirely. And I get pissed. I don't really know what my recommended solution to all this is...maybe store the brats in the civic center? But all I have to say is those little bitches ought to be very careful walking down the stairs, if you know what I mean.

Oh and you can tell most don't have what it takes to really pursue ballet anyway. So there, face reality and give it up, bitches.

CD Review

2005-07-11T16:16:00.000-07:00

Holy shit - I bought a CD. Two. Well, cashed in a gift certificate anyway.

Common: Be
Kicks ass. Really good, mellow. They say pain makes great art and I guess that's true. This is the Common we all know and love before Erykah Badu got him all shmaltzy and crappy. I would add this to your repoitoire for gettin down.

The Game: Documentary
Bringing back NWA to CPT. They say you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover...but I think it's fine to judge a CD by its liner notes. So, this whole CD is explained pretty well by the layout of The Game at a kitchen table with glocks and a couple ounces on top. But, hey, I love "Dreams" and "How We Do." Yeah, I'm a singles whore.

Retarded Helpless Children

2005-07-11T15:56:00.000-07:00

A very typical weekend was had by me: dinner and a movie with Mel on Friday, slept in and then Midnight Mass on Saturday, BBQ and hanging out with friends on Sunday. Anyway...on my way to the Mission on Sunday I was on the 24 and had one of those totally obvious realizations: for whatever reason, in America, natives always treat tourists like some sort of retarded chlld.

So, I'm on the 24 and a group of olderish (I'd say mid-40s to mid-60s) women were trying to get off the bus. Unlike most rookies, these tourists actually read the "step down to open doors sign," but for some reason they just kept dangling their foot over the steps like someone afraid to test the waters. There was this ghetto chick standing by the door who finally took matters into her own hands, stepped down and said to them "see, you step down. STEP DOWN [said very slowly and loudly]. Then the door opens. You get it? Step down and the door opens, it's like magic." Now, I had heard the tourists talking to each other. They spoke English, were clearly American and, while maybe not brilliant, they didn't come across as retarded children either. Yet, when the ghetto chick was explaining the "magic" of the muni back door system, the tourists actually "oooohed" and "aaaahed."

Granted, in the end the tourists sort of deserved the way they were treated, but it just makes me think about other times when I've seen this happen. And I used to work at Powell and Market - I knows me some tourists. Maybe there is something about traveling to another place that makes one completely fucking retarded and helpless. Maybe there is something about having someone in your area who is clearly not familiar that makes us assume they are retarded and helpless. Whatever, it's an interesting phenomenon nonetheless.

On another tourist note, time after time after time I'm downtown and I'll see a group of people who are clearly tourists and they will just be standing on the street. Usually I'm a little far away (but you can't help notice the human rocks blocking the flow of the human stream down the sidewalk) and plenty of people have passed them. Yet, time after time, they choose me to ask for directions or help or whatever. What the fuck? Why me? I guess I look "normal" to midwesterners or something. Which is pretty funny, when you think about it. Considering I hate the midwest so much.

Stephanie Free Bolton

2005-07-08T17:02:00.000-07:00

I promised Steph a shoutout here.

SHOUTOUT.

Thanks for saving my life by fixing my mailbox. How does a key break off in a lock?!?!? It's metal, dammit!!!

March of the Wha?!?

2005-07-08T16:07:00.000-07:00

I went to go see March of the Penguins last night and, wait, before you start to make fun of me, please take two things into account:

1) Dan, yes Dan, picked it out
2) it totally motherfucking rocked

That movie is just about the most charming thing I have ever seen. You haven't lived until you've seen hours of footage of penguins walking single file across tundra. No, seriously, it's one of those incredible feats of nature you just have to see. The movie is also educational. Like, I learned that penguins are the worst bird ever and the most retarded animal to ever exist which is not also a marsupial. Seriously, what sort of bird can't fly and lives in the sea? In any case, those penguins are damn cute. Especially the babies, who I was pleased to see look identical to stuffed animal versions. The movie had it all: humor, drama, conflict, inspiration, Morgan Freeman. What more could you want?
(tell me you don't love that baby)
As shocking as it is, I'm really and truly not being facetious here. March of the Penguins was a surprisingly good film which I am impressed Dan picked out and grateful my man took me to something wonderful I never would have thought of seeing on my own. And, damn, the critics even liked it.

Oh well...heed my advice - you've got to go to this movie!

More about Emperor Penguins

If Maddox Says So...

2005-07-07T10:35:00.000-07:00

it must be true. Some stranger weighs in on what a trend-chasing, no-friend-having, loser I am. Well, not me personally, but all of my kind:

If these words were people, I would embrace their genocide

Damn funny

2005-07-06T16:26:00.000-07:00

Since my life isn't all that great, maybe I'll start posting choice tidbits I find on the web. Like this mofo. Stupid bitch.

Jessica Simpson is Making this Face Because…

A: Her Tivo failed to record Newlyweds.
B: A reporter asked her what it was like to work with Johnny Knoxville.
C: Someone has just explained to her the concept of gravity.
D: Her daddy threatened to never again love her in that special way.
E: She realized that she forgot to fully inhale and wipe her freaking nose before heading out.
Gawker

In brief:

2005-07-06T15:55:00.000-07:00

It's a sad, sad state of affairs when a girl is too busy at work to write in her blog - for almost a week now!

So let's see here...hung out with Jesse, Jon and Chas on Friday night and I managed to find the worst burrito in the Mission. I mean, this was raunch. I took it apart and tried every individual component and each was worse than the next. Later that night I became a horrible city person as I waited for the bus. I had my back turned and didn't see what happened, but I thought this guy on the other side of the street moaning and rolling around was just the local drunk. So I totally ignored him. Finally some people walked by on the other side of the street and it turned out to be an elderly man who had fallen going down steps and had cracked his head open. So I felt like shit (wait...feel like shit) that, had it not been for those pedestrians on the other side of the street, I would have let this guy die because I assumed he was the local drunk on the ground. Yeah, I've really become a cynical asshole these days.

The rest of the weekend was slightly better than that though (well, for me. It seems all my friends are having horrible occurrences in their lives...) I slept in late on Saturday and then met up with Cess and Tim. It was so good to have Cess here, but that only made it harder for her to leave. I always tell myself that she's off to save the world, which she is, but I'm still a selfish asshole who wants her to move back to SF and live blocks from me again. After Cess left Tim and I hung out. Well, I hung out and Tim passed out, woke up occasionally to say "no, no, don't go...I'm only resting my eyes" and then passed out again. I stayed through the duration of Donnie Darko and took off after that.

Sunday was Stern Grove aka Freeze Your Ass Off While the Symphony Plays. Fuck the Stern Grove remodel...as Court put it "nothing's changed for us." Damn, was it ever cold on Sunday...which was weird because it was super hot while I was in the park with TJ about an hour previously. Oh, SF...how you mess with us. Anyway, it was cold and I was unprepared so I did the only thing I could to stay warm - I drank all our beer and was wasted by 3:30pm. After Stern Grove (I made Court leave early) we got our nails done and then went grocery shopping. Then I went home and snuggled with TJ until I drifted off to dreamland.

Monday was of course the celebration of America's independence. Woo. I spent the day with Claire, Jamie, Melissa and Larry The Homo, Melissa and Jamie's friend. We mainly hung out drinking in the park. But Jamie and Melissa finally got to meet TJ, which makes me very happy. I think TJ is Melissa's new BFF...although I'm a little sad that TJ would abandon my love so easily. Little bitch. After the parky park we grabbed dinner at Brother In Laws. Whoa, they aint lying. That shit is fo real and is motherfucking good. We grabbed about 60 pounds of food and stupidly decided to eat at Alamo Square. Which has gale force winds on a light day. We were all sleepy and drunk and full and over it after Alamo, so we all split in our own directions. I went home to TJ. I know I'm a loser for staying in on July 4th, but I had no idea how TJ was going to react to the fireworks and festivities, especially considering how bad she's been in general lately. I totally overreacted and she was fine (more fireworks woke me up than her,) but I'm still glad I stayed in. Besides, the only party I really knew about was a big time coke fest...and as much as I love that scene, I'll pick cuddling with TJ any day.

Work? What the fuck is up with that shit?

Friends? Some good, some bad. I'm thinking of you all.

Dan? Same-o, same-o. But it's very nice to have him back.

Everything else? Well, at least I'm maintaining.

Bitch, Please

2005-07-01T14:21:00.000-07:00

Ladies, a little note. All of a sudden I keep seeing a bunch of you riding bicycles while wearing mini skirts. While I understand how refreshing the breeze must be, you may not realize that also means your cooch is hanging out. I know, I know...the boys come a runnin' and that's a big self-esteem boost and all, but really, you're embarassing the rest of us chicks who already have self-respect. So, please, remember what your mother told you about ladies keeping their legs shut. Or at least, for the love of god, put some freakin' pants on.

Really, SF Kicks Baltimore's Ass

2005-06-30T11:52:00.000-07:00

Oh, how time flies when you're not really doing much of anything. Cess is in town which is just about the coolest damn thing ever. We met up on Tuesday night and it was so good to see her. The best part? She hasn't changed at all! She's still wonderful Cess. I also got to see Tim, who she's staying with, which was also a lot of fun. I had forgot how much I like to hang with that kid. Funnily enough, he's moved back into the same building he and Cess used to live in. Dan and The Famous Ben King came down and I was very pleased Dan and Cess were able to meet. They had their Connecticut-off (Tim too, I didn't know that cat was from CT,) but after they had felt each other out they were cool with one another. I stayed out way too late and drank way too much for a work night, but how often is Cess in town? Totally worth it.

Other than that I've been swamped with life, but I don't really feel like I've been doing much. Work is an interesting situation...bossman sent the office manager to beg me to stay. I'm tempted and I don't really have many other offers...so let's see what the mann will lay down on the table.

TJ may be headed to a Korean restaurant soon...the little bitch ate my pair of good black heels. Like, it could be worse. They could have been my lime green suede ballet flats...or my pretty new silver shoes. But I'm still not thrilled about the money aspect of it and I also feel like this bodes poorly for the future. I did the whole yelling "NO NO!" at her while giving her a nose tap and hopefully that will do the trick (I like to think that, as I never get mad at her, when I do she pays attention to it. Wishful thinking...) but we'll see. As things stand now everything is hidden in the closet and I'm working on a way to secure that so she can't get in. What a little bitch. She's not looking so cute anymore.

So, boo Thursday. Thursday sucks. Luckily I get to see Cess again tonight, which is awesome because she's usually very busy when she's here and I don't get to see her nearly as much as I would like. But not this time! I'll hopefully also get to see Dan, 'cause my man is taking off for the weekend. I was a little bummed about that, but then I started thinking and now I'm kinda glad. It's probably a good thing to get away from each other and not think about one another for a couple days.

30 hours until the (LONG) weekend!

Grad School, Shmad School

2005-06-28T10:26:00.000-07:00

So I've been thinking about grad school a lot lately. Mainly I think I just miss the good ole days of being in school with no responsibilities and being free, free, free. However, as lovely as that sounds, grad school is starting to freak me the fuck out. It's not really the work load, I have full confidence that once I get in somewhere I'll handle that shit fine...it's the getting in that is worrying me.

We all know my dream is to go to Stirling in Scotland. But as time goes on I get more and more worried about just getting in. And paying for it. And moving to a new country where I don't know anyone or anything. And getting TJ's ass over there. It's all very daunting, not to mention I haven't even started on my proposal yet. And I'm not even sure of what my thesis would be. I'm almost starting to think I should just look at American school because it's easy. But I feel like that's the pussy way out. And I would have to take the GREs, which I'm none too keen on.

I'm so conflicted and getting rather stressed on the whole thing. I'm totally starting to understand why people keep saying the longer you're out of school the harder it is to go back. Shit, I've only been out of school for a year and I'm already getting nervous. It's so easy to not go, but I can't imagine not going. I'm just really scared about the whole thing and I feel like there's no one to talk to, to get guidance from.

*sigh*

On a brighter note, Cess is coming in town today! Yay Cess! I can't wait to see her and have her meet TJ! It's going to be so good to have her here, even if she is only in town a very short while. Yay Cess!

It's Intern Season

2005-06-21T15:38:00.000-07:00

I keep forgetting to write about our little interns, they're really the cutest little things. We just got a new batch of three of them: Matt, Suneet and John. Or, as we like to call them around the office: The Good One, The Stoner and The Fag. As his nickname would indicate, Matt is a great guy. He's sort of like a scared little rabbit who is desperately trying to gain acceptance from the clan. He works hard, strives to achieve and is generally a good guy. Granted, we need to get him to calm down a little and take a lunch break every now and then...but I really like Matt. He's my favorite. Then there's Suneet, who I'm liking more and more. That kid cracks me up. He's clearly so stoned so much of the time I don't see how he gets away with it. I mean, it's not like we're retarded innocent virgins holed up in Afghani caves guarded by Taliban sentries. We live in SF people...it's SO obvious. But he's nice and he's funny and he's actually not my problem, so I could care less. Then there's John. Oh, John. The Fag.

John started off on the wrong foot with me. Then kept going. I try to keep conversation to a minimum with him. Damn though, do I ever love shooting down that kid's big mouth. All the interns and a new hire started on the same day. Until I learned their names, I called them by number. John was Number Three. While the other three kids have grown on me, John has not. Which is why I still call him Number Three. And every time I call him that he says, "My name is John. Why don't you just call me John. You know my name!" Which I do and all, but what do I always tell him? "You'll get a name when you've earned one." Which is never really going to happen. Anyway, two funny stories about John. First off, we had a work happy hour last Friday. I booked it the very second I could, but I hear John got trashed and ended up spilling his drink on himself. Way to go, intern! And at your first company outing too! The other story? Perhaps he should have double-checked his outfit before leaving yesterday morning. His stylishly torn Diesel jeans allowed an escape route for his man fruit. Yeah, that's right, dude's balls were hanging out all day. And what did admin do? The right thing and pulled him aside and let him know? Oh, no. Not at all. We laughed all day. And why? Because we'll let you know your balls are hanging out when you've earned that kind of respect.

In other news, Jim is Captain Dickhead for throwing a hissy and not letting TJ come to work on Friday (aka Take Your Dog To Work Day.) What a dick. Dick.

Betting Pool

2005-06-20T12:24:00.000-07:00

I've got $5 that Bin Ladin is hanging out in Iran.

Any takers?

Dreams Do Come True

2005-06-20T11:53:00.000-07:00

What a great weekend - I went on my first *real* rollercoaster ever! So fucking exciting and, yes, Jesse is still my new best friend.

I started out the weekend cranky, not really sure why. I had to work a long day on Friday, but still. I think I was just PMSing. Anyway, I ended up hanging out with Rene, Dan and Dan's friend, The Famous Ben who is staying with him for the summer. We grabbed some food, some drinks. I was really happy to meet The Famous Ben though, after all I have heard so much about the guy. And, you know, he's "The Famous Ben" and all. However, he did insult my political leanings pretty quickly after meeting me. But he didn't know and I didn't want to make a thing out of it, so I'm letting it go.

I woke up at the crack of dawn on saturday to prepare for the day I have been waiting for all my life: my first *real* rollercoaster! I was so excited when I got to the park, it was crazy. Jesse had to keep reminding me "you can't fit an entire childhood into one afternoon," but damn if I didn't try! I started to think the rides might scare me (mainly because everyone kept asking "you've never been on a rollercoaster? Are you scared?") but it turns out they're just fun and not scary at all. Well, one of them scared the shit out of me, but it was only momentary. Other than that, the day was cool. Got a funnel cake, hung out, somehow didn't get sunburnt at all and somehow I did lose my sunglasses. I had only gotten about 3 hours of sleep the night before and maybe 4.5 the night before that, so I was pretty tuckered out by the time I got home. Dan and I were supposed to hang, but I went to cuddle with TJ "only for a minute" and the next thing I knew it was 9am.

Sunday was nice and quiet: just how I like them. I spent most of the day cleaning and then I had hoped to do Zeitgeist or at least hang out somewhere sunny with Dan, but he had to go to work. I walked TJ down to Geary though and we visited Dan and saw him in his dress up work clothes. He's pretty self-conscious about it, but he actually looks cute. Well, except for the tie. But everyone knows how I feel about ties.

So, that was pretty much my weekend. Too short as always, but it was one of the best I've ever had. Yay Great America! Yay Rollercoasters! Yay Jesse! And it just goes to show you, If you wait long enough, dreams do come true!

Here's to Zach...

2005-06-17T16:19:00.000-07:00

We'll miss ya buddy!

That's My Girl!

2005-06-17T14:24:00.000-07:00

So last night I got home a little late because I had swung by Rene's house first. When we got to my house we walked in and what was TJ doing? Watching the movie I had left in the VCR! Keep in mind that I turn off the TV when I leave the house, the little bitch had turned it back on AND started up the movie! How funny is that? She's SO my dog!

On another note, the movie was Beyond the Sea, the Bobby Darin biopic. Watching the movie made me think that the movie industry really needs to enact a rule that if a movie is a musical, that fact ought to be advertised in huge, bold, red letters across the front. WARNING: THIS MOVIE IS A MUSICAL. Is that so hard to do? Anyway, other than the musical nature of it, the movie was ok. Kevin Spacey played himself (when does he not? Except Kaiser Sose, of course.) I thought Kate Bosworth was just playing herself at the beginning, but I was quite impressed to see her transform into the older, bitter, drunk, pill popping Sandra Dee. I never thought I would believe this, but Kate Bosworth can act. I'm not really sure how the movie ends...I feel asleep. All in all, I give the movie 1.5 rock on hand signs. Or the written equivalent: s'ok.

Oh, Snap!

2005-06-16T16:41:00.000-07:00

I'm telling you, I WILL bring it back.

Fuck Yeah!

2005-06-16T13:42:00.000-07:00

After years and years of hoping and dreaming and praying and wishing on a star, finally it's happening. I am going on roller coasters! Yep, that's right, Jesse is taking me to Great America on Saturday. And you know what's better than going to Great America? Going to Great America for FREE! Fuck yeah! Right the fuck on! I don't have words to express how excited I am about this! This is one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me.

Jesse is my new best friend.

(Which, you know, isn't as exciting as one would think considering you can buy my friendship cheaply and easily and best friends change with my whim. But still, you get the title and all. And it's a pretty prestigious group of individuals you become aligned with.)

File Under Wha?!?!?

2005-06-15T10:33:00.000-07:00

So, yesterday the mann says to me "you've really been kicking ass lately. Maybe we should reconsider firing you." To which I replied the only thing that crossed my mind, "huh?" I mean, really though, you can't "take back" a firing. Two months later. When I've been going through interview hell. Really though, what the fuck?

Regardless...he's totally fucking with me. I mean, come on. I've been indefinitely fired haha just kidding. Wha?!?!? I just can't wait to be out of this place. This has been the most surreal job ever.

The Aftermath

2005-06-14T14:46:00.000-07:00

So the birthday thing, you know, happened. I am now officially 23, but it really doesn't feel any different than 22. Mainly because I'm still a spring chicken and all, so who cares if I'm slightly older. In any case, I had an awesome time at my birthday party. It was tons of fun...well, what I remember from it was tons of fun. Luckily though, I was with friends and I didn't come home with any grievous injuries,* so nothing that bad could have happened. However, considering I was drinking gin and gatorade (don't ask - only Stephanie gets it) the fact I did NOT come home with any grievous injuries is pretty damn lucky.

I spent actual birthday mainly alone. I slept in late and then cuddled with TJ. We went and played in the park most of the day ("play" being a loosely defined term). I had a doctor's appointment that afternoon where I received the best news a girl can receive on her birthday - not pregnant! Not that I thought I was or anything, it's just always nice to get the official no, you know? After the doctor, Court and I grabbed dinner. Then Dan and Rene met up with us and we all grabbed drinks. Very nice all in all. Much better than I thought it would turn out.

Oh, and Dan's present that I was all scared of? It was actually really sweet. Of course, he failed to get me flowers (asshole!!! that's all I fucking wanted. THAT'S ALL) but, I guess like Jonathan says, "guys are really dumb. If you want us to do anything for you, you have to tell us exactly what you want and how you want it done. And where you want it from. And when you want to get it. And maybe write everything down and give us a map with detailed instructions."

Although, Jacqui makes a pretty fine point of her own with how she always says, "guys are fucking dumb. Don't they get it, flowers always equal pussy!"

Well. There you go. Take notes.

* hangover excluded

Fuck The World.

2005-06-10T12:30:00.000-07:00

Really. That's all.

Quote of the Day

2005-06-09T15:34:00.000-07:00

"Damn you females and your magical vaginas!"

Thanks, Jonathan

And Aren't You Glad I Was Born?!?

2005-06-09T10:04:00.000-07:00

It dawns on me that I haven't mentioned my birthday is coming up. Well, kids, there are 4 shopping days left and, to simplify the task, here is a list of presents I would enjoy receiving:

1 . Tod's 2003 Spring keyhole moccasin flats in sunflower. The Swedish version, please.

2. Replicas of my favorite earrings in the whole world which I lost a couple of months ago (a moment of silence...) I would be happy to draw you a picture if you don't know what they look like.

3. A brown tea-cup poodle. It's cool, TJ knows she's a pity dog.

4. 12 strand, blended, Tahitian pearl necklace.

5. Vacuum. I just really need a new one.

6. A job. Seriously.

7. Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker.

So, Dan has gotten me something for my birthday. I find myself first off struck by how sweet that is, I really wasn't expecting anything from him (except flowers...which *ahem* would still be awesome to receive.) I also find myself slightly terrified because he said it's something that will make me laugh and I shouldn't thank him for it until I see it. Also, he picked it out all on his own without help from Elyse or anyone. Considering my birthday party theme, Grits and Tits, I'm expecting some sort of trite sex toy or porn or something. However, Dan assures me it's clever, and he is a clever boy, so I'm hoping it will be something a little more imaginative than that. In any case, present = free shit.

And we all know free is my favorite adjective ever!

Focus Groups Are the New Black

2005-06-08T10:11:00.000-07:00

Did another focus group last night and, man, do I ever love that shit. I'm convinced that focus groups are the greatest thing ever. In fact, if I could, I would probably be a professional focus group member. After all, I'm opinionated and love to speak my mind...wait AND you'll pay me for it?!?! Sign me up! Last night I did a focus group on some new medication coming out. They showed me some ads, I told them the ads sucked. Thirty minutes and $75 later, I was on my way.

Seriously, focus group money is some of the easiest money out there. And my favorite part is the people they have working for them. Focus group companies pay the majority of their employees slightly more than minimum wage and everyone knows what that means - they get slightly better than minimum wage quality work. The employees couldn't care less, they just want people signed up for their little group as soon as possible. So, they feed you the answers and they fix your record to make you eligible. A little fudging here, a little erasing there and voila! all of a sudden you're a perfect demographic fit for anything! Which works for me, keep 'em rollin in, baby!

I'm White! When Will I Learn?

2005-06-06T10:51:00.000-07:00

Dammit! I'm so fucking white! When will I ever learn that people like me cannot sit in the sun for hours without turning purple. Damn me and my whiteness! Damn!

Bad News Bears

2005-06-03T10:53:00.000-07:00

So, bad news kids...I didn't get the porn job.

I'm so frustrated by this whole job search. I'm either over qualified or not qualified enough for everything I apply to. And I keep going in to interviews with them saying "you're such a great candidate, you're at the top of our list" and then I never seems to get the job. I keep wondering what I'm doing wrong, because I must be doing something wrong. I just wish someone could sit me down objectively and explain it to me.

I'm a sad mac.

I really don't know what to do at this juncture. No, that's not true...I'm going to keep applying and keep interviewing until someone hires me. I guess. I mean, it's not like I really have a choice here or anything. I feel really stuck...and really fucked here. And I know that time is running out, but I don't really see very many options opening up for me. I just wish I could understand why I can't seem to get a job. What the fuck?

I'm a really sad mac right now.

What The Fuck Is Wrong With People?

2005-06-03T10:04:00.000-07:00

It's like this horrible trend of psychos all of a sudden:

Example 1

Example 2

Example 3

C'mon people, can't we all get along and not torture and kill innocents? Shit, yo...

Noun-Turned-Verb Phrase of the Day

2005-06-02T15:25:00.000-07:00

Entry: jim

Pronuniciation: 'jim

Definition: to embody one, many or all of the following characteristics
• constantly gives fillibuster speeches
• adds unnecessary steps and details to everything
• slacks on one's own work, while passing it off on other people
• to be up on other's jocks to cover your slackass
• not answering the phone
• creating superfluous work for yourself and others while ignoring the task at hand
• take advantage of someone by using them to accomplish a task designated for the agent.
• not allowing you to bring in your doggie because she might "encroach on [his] space"

Example: "stop jimming your clients on me, I have my own goddamn work to do"

San Francisco Kicks Baltimore's Ass!

2005-06-01T11:51:00.000-07:00

Yay! I spoke with Ces last night!

As everyone knows, Ces is just about my favorite person in the whole wide world. We've been trying to talk more often, but we still only speak every month or so (ahhh, growing up...) Regardless, it was awesome talking to her because I really wanted her opinion on the whole porn thing. Ces is, after all, my voice of reason. I sort of thought she might be down on the porn job, but she was mostly positive (that's why I love her advice - she lays shit out on the table as facts and let's me decide after that.) Anyway, it was great to hear from her and she's even coming out here soon! Yay! The best part, she's looking at west coast grad school. And why? 'Cause everyone knows that San Francisco kicks Baltimore's ass! I would totally talk some more east coast shit at this juncture...but Ces is from the east coast so I guess, out of respect, I'll lay off for now.

In other news, I've been jamming Alice in Chains and Stone Temple Pilots a lot lately. Now, I know what you're thinking, "she's currently going through an angry phase." Actually, I'm not. For some reason though, I've just been feeling the angry music. Well, like Scotty boy says, "you shouldn't have worn that dress." Sorry...random...

What A Long, Strange Weekend It's Been...

2005-05-31T14:13:00.000-07:00

4 day weekends are just about the best thing on earth. Well, 4 days weekends or being a trust fund brat who doesn't have to work at all. Unfortunately, that's not something you can choose to be at 22. In any case, thank god for 4 days away from work. So good!

I started off Friday by going to my second interview at the non-profit. I don't think it went all that well. It's not that I necessarily fucked it up, but I know I wasn't on top of my game and it's just unfortunate that I had an off day when it really mattered. In any case, I ended up hanging out with Melissa, Jamie's girlfriend, on Friday night. I know, I know, can you believe she's still talking to me? We went to Diva's which was as amusing as it always is. We ended up meeting Tia who is Ms. Gay San Francisco or Ms. Drag San Francisco or some shit and was also the headliner of the evening. She then invited herself along to pizza with us and Jamie, who had gotten off work at that point and had met up with us. After pizza she absolutely insisted we go back to Diva's with her to see her show. And she may be Ms. I Don't Give A Fuck San Francisco, but she is also one scary ass bitch. So, with no other recourse, we went back to Diva's. Where she proceeded to scam drinks off of us. And wouldn't let us leave. Her and her posse of drags made sure we were front and center for shout outs and threats anytime we tried to leave. Finally, we couldn't deal anymore and we booked it.

I woke up Saturday sick as a dog, which I couldn't figure out for awhile because I had only had a couple of drinks the night before. But then I remembered Diva's drink math (where every drink has about 3-4 shots in it) and the hangover started to make since. Jacqui came up for the weekend (yay!) and was supposed to be in town earlyish. Rene and I made plans to do Carnavale with her around 1 and then get in some good ole fashioned Mission thrift store shopping in. That clearly didn't happen, but we did get our shit together by 4 to at least do the shopping part - and I got my birthday outfit! That night we hung out at Rene's house and then went to a bar down the street from her place, Terry's Lounge. Despite Rene living there for three years or something, it was the first time we had ever gone. Pretty cool place: free pool, cheap drinks, generous bartender and $8 steaks on Mondays!

Sunday I had to wake up way too early (grrrrr) but I understand the necessity for it. I meant to go home and do errandy things, but I ended up taking a 4 hour nap instead. I finally got my ass up and washed laundry. Went to Chas' graduation party. Started in on the tequila. The story pretty much tells itself from there. However, Rene certainly takes the cake. Damn gina, here's a tip: beer + wine + whiskey + tequila + bailey's makes you one drunk fuck.

Monday I woke up, went to the interview with the porn company, swung by home to change and grab TJ. We went to the park where Rene and I were allegedly throwing a BBQ around 3ish. Which became 4ish. But nobody got there until around 5. At which point we realized we didn't have most of the shit we needed, so we went to the store. And then Court kidnapped me to pick up Hashish (the guy, not the drug.) We got back to the park around 7ish and, go figure, half the crew had taken off. We moved the BBQ to Rene's place which was a) warm and b) has a bigger BBQ. Food, drinks and hyjinks ensued. I took off around 11 and promptly passed the fuck out with the best sleep I've had in about a week.

So, to summarize, I've been drunk for almost a month straight now...I keep thinking that it's going to taper off but then something else comes up. C'est la vie...what's my liver ever done for me anyway?

In Other News...

2005-05-26T16:33:00.000-07:00

TJ has turned completely motherfucking psycho. First she destroyed her teddy bear (I mean, sure, she's always hated it. But never in such a violent way.) Then she's generally been being bratty lately. But last night was the straw that broke the psycho Jack Russell's back.

Rene and I were at the liquor store picking up some liquor, naturally. TJ was her usual self, tied up outside, sometimes barking sometimes not. Cliff gave her a pepperoni stick and some beef jerky, so she was even being pampered! Then this other dog, a big motherfucking Shar Pei came over. I untied TJ and BAM she tried to attack the other dog! I mean, teeth bared and totally out for blood! She lunged for it and the other dog lunged for her, I grabbed TJ and held her in the air while Cliff grabbed the Shar Pei - they were still gunning for one another!

What the fuck? What happened to my 13-lb pussy-ass angel? Rene says she's in heat and that's what's wrong with her. She just needs some deep dicking. I don't know - but if she stays all crazy and destructive like this she's headed straight back to the pound! (Just kidding - but you already knew that)

Porn Watch 2005

2005-05-26T11:19:00.000-07:00

Had the interview with the porn company last night and I think it went really well. We spent most of the interview joking around, so that has to be a good sign. And I did well enough to get myself a second interview, so happy thoughts, right!

I know it's fucking hilarious, but I really want this job. No, not just because of all the free porn (althought that would be a nice benefit,) but it actually sounds like a kick-ass job. I would be the admin/office manager/marketing assistant to begin with. After I had learned the ins and outs of the work (haha, pun totally intended) I would get to decide which of the three jobs I wanted and they would get new people to do the other two. I would get to start work at 10. I would get to come on business trips. I would get to go to porn conventions. I would be paid bank. If boss man is not in the office, I wouldn't have to be in the office. They're totally chill (read: jeans, flip flops and nose ring).

Damn, gina....this may be the holy grail of employment. I hope, I hope, I hope I get this job. Least of all because I could write in the consulting summary "I will be leaving here to pursue a career in the adult film industry" and that would be motherfucking priceless!

Wish me luck, biches!

Seriously, What's Wrong With Me?

2005-05-25T11:58:00.000-07:00

OK, I know I haven't really been feeling great lately...but I realized this morning something is seriously wrong with me.

Symptom 1: I've been rocking Good News For People Who Like Bad News like it's going out of style. And I'm really, really digging it.

Symptom 2: I really, really like The Game. In fact, I'm considering purchasing The Documentary and we all know I never actually buy music. Well, in all honesty, I wouldn't be considering purchasing it if I knew anyone who owned it. But I don't.

So you see, something is terribly wrong with me. Or at least my musical tastes. Modest Mouse? The Game? The fuck? It's like I've lost all concept of what is sonically pleasurable and I've been reduced to the equivalent of musical cheese-whiz. I can no longer keep this as my secret shame. I'm hoping that by exposing my problem to the public somebody will be able to help me regain my musical tastes...or at least get me into some sort of LP Promises or something. Harmonic Hazeldon? Well, at least my wit is still dead on.

So, Is This Going To Be Like a Bad Porn?

2005-05-24T11:47:00.000-07:00

Oh my god! I have an interview at a porn company! Which is about the funniest damn thing ever. Wait a second, the fact that I'm so fucking thrilled about having an interview at a porn company is the funniest thing ever. Wait, wait...you have to picture it.:

Setting: a party, everyone is mingling and getting to know each other.

Stranger: Hello, my name is John Doe, it's nice to meet you.
Me: Hello, John Doe, nice to meet you. So, what do you do?
Stranger: I work in insurance. What do you do?
Me: I work in the porn industry...but don't think I'm a porn star!

F U C K I N G H I L A R I O U S!

And can you imagine the business cards! I hope they have, like, the girly truckflap image on them! That would be the best! I just wonder what the fuck the interview will be like, you know? I mean, after all, we've all seen "interview" porns. Hahahaha this is so fucking funny!

Interview tomorrow - stay tuned!

Mommie Dearest

2005-05-23T12:16:00.000-07:00

My mother came to town, rounding out the 2005 Visit San Francisco Tour. I had a lot better time with momma then I thought I would. On Saturday we spent the day shopping: farmer's market, ferry plaza, union square. Took the girls out to dinner. Sunday we went to the cliffhouse, the beach, the park, and then hung out with Lil TJ. It was lots of fun and we got along very well the whole time. Too bad momma had to go so soon, but I guess a short and sweet trip is a better deal than a long and (ma)lingering one.

Best part of the visit: free shit. Tons of food + presents. Gotta love it!

Worst part: best behavior

Funniest part: When momma and I were at the ferry plaza shops, this guy walks up to me RIGHT IN FRONT OF MOMMA and says "you look familiar...have we hooked up?" (Answer: not to the best of my knowledge.) Jesse - what's the underwater sign for "awkward" again?