Many of my fellow temps are either astonishingly stupid, ridiculously lazy , or both. So much so that my boss asks me what they are doing.
"Well, boss, it looks like he's reading the paper, she's checking her bank account and her ,over there in the corner, she is staring at a blank screen. Why?"
"We're going to have to start letting people go. Tomorrow, I want you and Bonnie (a good temp) to hold a meeting with all the contractors (side: when did they start calling us temps 'contractors'? After a long stint in Homeowner's Insurance , I have come to hate that word) and tell them they need to find work to do here, or find it somewhere else. Then I want you two to make recommendations to me about who we retain."
What the fuck?
I see two reasons for him doing this. Either he's a lousy manager and is just passing the buck to the temps and getting us to do his dirty work for him...
-or-
...it's a test to see how well we can handle management tasks. Rumour has it that Bonnie and I are being considered for real, benefit-providing jobs. Don't know if I'd accept, but I'd like to see what they're offering.
I'm pissed and confused. I've already instructed the temps that I like in the fine art of Looking Busy When There's Nothing To Do. It's pretty easy. It's so fucking simple that no one believes it works, but work it does.
-Start with a clipboard.
-Attach an empty spread sheet to it. In a pinch, use anything that resembles a chart or list, or even blank paper.
-Stride purposefully to a file cabinet. Open it and extract a file at random.
-Open the file and keep looking back and forth between it and the doodles, song lyrics, shopping lists, fantasy sports bets or whatever the hell else you are scribbling on your clipboard.
-Walk briskly to another cabinet and repeat.
-Fax documents to yourself using two in-office fax machines. You can kill a few minutes faxing, and a few more waiting to receive them, and then several more carefully shredding them, one sheet at a time.
-Print out your emails, read them a few times. Highlight random words. Shred.
-If you must socialize, point at documents and flip through random work screens while you talk about sports and weather.
-Every few days , ask the Boss, "I'm finally caught up, is there anything I can help with?"
I know that sounds cynical, but it's how you stretch a 3-day assignment into a 14-month gravy train. 'Course, the work you that you actually do has to be exemplary or the whole process is useless. Gotta play the right cards at the right time, ya know?.
At State Farm, I used to blog at work all the time. On weekends, I was the only one in the office, so I'd sit and watch DVD's all day. On overtime.
But I had to bust ass for months in order to get to that point. It was worth it.
I can't say shit like that during an open meeting. The hell with it. We'll just give 'em the standard Teamwork, Initiative , Productivity etc. spiel. I hate giving that speech. It should be common sense.
For me it's easier to just get my work done, then spend the rest of my 10+ hour shift fucking off. For instance, if the Boss asks you to do something and you can show him that you've already done it, as well as fixing this, that and the other errors, you get high marks at raise time.
Fuck. I have to be at work on time tomorrow because of this damn meeting. I hate that.
On the positive, we had a great Leadership meeting tonight at the radio station. We exchanged new ideas , solutions to certain problems and ratified a new budget procedure that'll make my job way easier. I can buy equipment as I see fit -within reason- without having to submit each request to Finance, wait for approval etc... I get to actively recruit local talent for potential on-air performances-a job I'd already created and delegated to my fave volunteer- and I get to draft a six-month budget for my department. This is great resume-building stuff. My plan is to get a year of Production Director experience under my belt and then shop around. I'd like to work for NPR/PBS if they haven't been gutted by the GOP by then.
It's like living two separate lives- Corporate Hell, which I hate, but it pays the bills, and my volunteer position, which pays nothing, yet I love being part of.
Kudos to my friends at the station. It's a labor of love, in the truest sense. I am honored and proud to be respected and acknowledged as an integral member of our dedicated core staff.
Thanks to all our volunteers and contributors for their work and support.
XOXOXO,
Allan
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
So Many Lies
Do you ever feel like you are being lied to/betrayed/ manipulated every time you read the paper or watch the news?
I do.
So many lies. Where to begin?
Let's start locally.
Virginia's unemployment rate is up slightly. This is attributed to college students and recent graduates.
Bullshit.
a) Unemployment figures are based on the percentage of eligible workers currently receiving unemployment checks.
b) You need to have a fairly steady work history and a no-fault reason for losing your job in order to qualify for benefits.
c) How many college students lose their full-time jobs when school lets out? Some , such as those who work for the school, but not enough to be statistically significant. It also seems likely that many persons with full-time , sans summer , University employment would either go on vacation or have lined up some interim work.
d) Although it's easy to associate unemployment with recent graduation, the vast majority of the graduates (see c above) are unlikely to be eligible for Unemployment.
Well, OK, but who cares about Va. Unemployment anyway?
Bigger things:
"I think it's also important for the president to lay out a timetable as to how long they will be involved and when they will be withdrawn." -- Killer Monkey, 6/3/99, criticizing Clinton for not setting a timetable in Kosovo, Attribution
"It doesn't make any sense to have a timetable. If you give a timetable, you're conceding too much to the enemy." --Killer Monkey, 6/24/05, with another flip-flop the media won't publish, Attribution
( thanks to bart )
I mean, gosh, but isn't the world a better place now? It's been two years and Iraqis still don't have reliable potable water, safe streets, electricity or anything resembling a functional government. Car bombings are the new NASCAR.
Golly, it's remarkable how much progress we've made.
It's won America widespread international accolades with our "friends and allies." They love us.
Our fearless AWOL-in-chief is adored and revered by the citizens of every free nation.
Bullshit.
There's enough smoldering international resentment to be responsible for some serious global warming. Oh, yeah, I forgot. There is no "Greenhouse Effect." Exxon said so.
Or something.
Back to local. I was told by Bank of Generica that I was eligble for awards based on my volunteer work.
Bullshit.
I'm a temp, so I deserve no recognition for my community based work.
What a morale builder.
I do.
So many lies. Where to begin?
Let's start locally.
Virginia's unemployment rate is up slightly. This is attributed to college students and recent graduates.
Bullshit.
a) Unemployment figures are based on the percentage of eligible workers currently receiving unemployment checks.
b) You need to have a fairly steady work history and a no-fault reason for losing your job in order to qualify for benefits.
c) How many college students lose their full-time jobs when school lets out? Some , such as those who work for the school, but not enough to be statistically significant. It also seems likely that many persons with full-time , sans summer , University employment would either go on vacation or have lined up some interim work.
d) Although it's easy to associate unemployment with recent graduation, the vast majority of the graduates (see c above) are unlikely to be eligible for Unemployment.
Well, OK, but who cares about Va. Unemployment anyway?
Bigger things:
"I think it's also important for the president to lay out a timetable as to how long they will be involved and when they will be withdrawn." -- Killer Monkey, 6/3/99, criticizing Clinton for not setting a timetable in Kosovo, Attribution
"It doesn't make any sense to have a timetable. If you give a timetable, you're conceding too much to the enemy." --Killer Monkey, 6/24/05, with another flip-flop the media won't publish, Attribution
( thanks to bart )
I mean, gosh, but isn't the world a better place now? It's been two years and Iraqis still don't have reliable potable water, safe streets, electricity or anything resembling a functional government. Car bombings are the new NASCAR.
Golly, it's remarkable how much progress we've made.
It's won America widespread international accolades with our "friends and allies." They love us.
Our fearless AWOL-in-chief is adored and revered by the citizens of every free nation.
Bullshit.
There's enough smoldering international resentment to be responsible for some serious global warming. Oh, yeah, I forgot. There is no "Greenhouse Effect." Exxon said so.
Or something.
Back to local. I was told by Bank of Generica that I was eligble for awards based on my volunteer work.
Bullshit.
I'm a temp, so I deserve no recognition for my community based work.
What a morale builder.
Friday, June 24, 2005
CIA Report
I wouldn't want to live in Turkmenistan.
Thanks to the CIA for this site and the maps. It's odd how they seem to be confirming
the theory that invading Iraq was the Mother of all Smokescreens- that perhaps it's merely a means to an end, the end being an alliance between Big Oil and Petty Tyrants.
Go to the CIA site, scroll down to (almost) any nation on this map , and read the CIA profile.
Look for patterns. It's not hard to "connect the dots" if you read carefully.
(Taj is Tajikistan, Azer is Azerbaijan)
Why hasn't this connection been made in the mainstream media? Too much work involved?
I wanted to fact-check my conspiracy theory w/ multiple sources, but the CIA has already 'fessed up.
It's their site.
This is not a subtle clue, it's a tacit admission of the neo-con desire to establish a New American Empire, based on control of one of the world's least-renewable resources: Oil.
Other options provided by our forward-thinking and secret- meeting President's handlers include Coal & Nuclear power.
You'll see a lot of similarities between the countries on this map-for instance:
Government type:
republic; authoritarian presidential rule, with little power outside the executive branch .
Hmm...
Environment - current issues:
local scientists consider the Abseron Yasaqligi (Apsheron Peninsula) (including Baku and Sumqayit) and the Caspian Sea to be the ecologically most devastated area in the world because of severe air, soil, and water pollution; soil pollution results from oil spills, from the use of DDT as a pesticide, and from toxic defoliants used in the production of cotton .
And this:
Background:
Annexed by Russia between 1865 and 1885, Turkmenistan became a Soviet republic in 1924. It achieved its independence upon the dissolution of the USSR in 1991. President NIYAZOV retains absolute control over the country and opposition is not tolerated. Extensive hydrocarbon/natural gas reserves could prove a boon to this underdeveloped country if extraction and delivery projects were to be expanded. The Turkmenistan Government is actively seeking to develop alternative petroleum transportation routes in order to break Russia's pipeline monopoly.
This is public information.
Where is the outrage ?
Thanks to the CIA for this site and the maps. It's odd how they seem to be confirming
the theory that invading Iraq was the Mother of all Smokescreens- that perhaps it's merely a means to an end, the end being an alliance between Big Oil and Petty Tyrants.
Go to the CIA site, scroll down to (almost) any nation on this map , and read the CIA profile.
Look for patterns. It's not hard to "connect the dots" if you read carefully.
(Taj is Tajikistan, Azer is Azerbaijan)
Why hasn't this connection been made in the mainstream media? Too much work involved?
I wanted to fact-check my conspiracy theory w/ multiple sources, but the CIA has already 'fessed up.
It's their site.
This is not a subtle clue, it's a tacit admission of the neo-con desire to establish a New American Empire, based on control of one of the world's least-renewable resources: Oil.
Other options provided by our forward-thinking and secret- meeting President's handlers include Coal & Nuclear power.
You'll see a lot of similarities between the countries on this map-for instance:
Government type:
republic; authoritarian presidential rule, with little power outside the executive branch .
Hmm...
Environment - current issues:
local scientists consider the Abseron Yasaqligi (Apsheron Peninsula) (including Baku and Sumqayit) and the Caspian Sea to be the ecologically most devastated area in the world because of severe air, soil, and water pollution; soil pollution results from oil spills, from the use of DDT as a pesticide, and from toxic defoliants used in the production of cotton .
And this:
Background:
Annexed by Russia between 1865 and 1885, Turkmenistan became a Soviet republic in 1924. It achieved its independence upon the dissolution of the USSR in 1991. President NIYAZOV retains absolute control over the country and opposition is not tolerated. Extensive hydrocarbon/natural gas reserves could prove a boon to this underdeveloped country if extraction and delivery projects were to be expanded. The Turkmenistan Government is actively seeking to develop alternative petroleum transportation routes in order to break Russia's pipeline monopoly.
This is public information.
Where is the outrage ?
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Good Citizen Award
Turns out I'm in consideration for a Presidential Award for Civic Service.
No, really.
True.
Bank of Generica has a volunteer rewards program, which means you can earn gift cards and stuff by having yourself photgraphed doing volunteer work while wearing a B of G shirt. (The one they gave me is XXL and fits me like a mumu).
For two hundred hours -in a year- you get an award from the White House for being a great citizen. At first, I was inclined to say screw this, despite the fact that I've already got at least 200+ volunteer hours at WRIR- and it's only June.
But our music director, the tinydj, reminded me of the irony involved in being rewarded by the neo-fascists and corporate dictators for helping a station that actively opposes their agendas.
She's convinced me to go for it. So I should get this reward from Bush and BofG regardless of my personal politics. It'll be a great resume builder and I can always sell it on ebay.
The station is what keeps me going. My job drains my soul, and my troubles with women break my heart, but at the station I am accepted, respected and, at times, revered. I have pulled off so many on-air audio miracles,often at the last possible second,that I thought I was taken for granted-not so.
Indeed, the last two nights, I've been told by different senior staffers that I'm a crucial member of our leadership team and that plans were under way to show this. This autumn could mean a real job. Maybe. Just maybe.
I also decided I should shop myself around to the commercial stations. If I can work for a bank, I can work for anyone. It's hard to find production work in radio, but I've got the skills and experience. I have tons of equipment. I have an urgent need to leave the damncube world.
If I scrimp, I should be able to quit my pay job this fall and be able to devote time to something that doesn't desangriate me.
Wish me luck.
By then, I'll have amost a year's experience as Production Director/Sound Tech and maybe even a Certificate from Bush. I already have a commendation from Clinton for my work on the 2000 Census, but it's just a machine -stamped form letter that all the managers got. I gave it to my Granny, and she was so proud. She loves Clinton. She likes to show it to visitors.
The Bush certificate will probably be stamped w/ an 'X'. What an odd pair of documents this would make.
No, really.
True.
Bank of Generica has a volunteer rewards program, which means you can earn gift cards and stuff by having yourself photgraphed doing volunteer work while wearing a B of G shirt. (The one they gave me is XXL and fits me like a mumu).
For two hundred hours -in a year- you get an award from the White House for being a great citizen. At first, I was inclined to say screw this, despite the fact that I've already got at least 200+ volunteer hours at WRIR- and it's only June.
But our music director, the tinydj, reminded me of the irony involved in being rewarded by the neo-fascists and corporate dictators for helping a station that actively opposes their agendas.
She's convinced me to go for it. So I should get this reward from Bush and BofG regardless of my personal politics. It'll be a great resume builder and I can always sell it on ebay.
The station is what keeps me going. My job drains my soul, and my troubles with women break my heart, but at the station I am accepted, respected and, at times, revered. I have pulled off so many on-air audio miracles,often at the last possible second,that I thought I was taken for granted-not so.
Indeed, the last two nights, I've been told by different senior staffers that I'm a crucial member of our leadership team and that plans were under way to show this. This autumn could mean a real job. Maybe. Just maybe.
I also decided I should shop myself around to the commercial stations. If I can work for a bank, I can work for anyone. It's hard to find production work in radio, but I've got the skills and experience. I have tons of equipment. I have an urgent need to leave the damncube world.
If I scrimp, I should be able to quit my pay job this fall and be able to devote time to something that doesn't desangriate me.
Wish me luck.
By then, I'll have amost a year's experience as Production Director/Sound Tech and maybe even a Certificate from Bush. I already have a commendation from Clinton for my work on the 2000 Census, but it's just a machine -stamped form letter that all the managers got. I gave it to my Granny, and she was so proud. She loves Clinton. She likes to show it to visitors.
The Bush certificate will probably be stamped w/ an 'X'. What an odd pair of documents this would make.
Monday, June 20, 2005
I is for Ogre, O is for Angry
I is one Angry Ogre. All day yesterday I stewed over being told to "get help." What the hell kind of thing is that to say? Of course I say crazy, scary things in my sleep. I do that when I'm awake, as well. So what?
Furthermore, if I cared about someone and they were speaking in lunatic verse while sleeping, I'd be inclined to talk it out with them first. I wouldn't show them the door and recommend psychiatry.
Thanks for that advice.
Why not just tell me that I'm not important to you? It's as if you're saying the same thing.
You won't even tell me what it was that I said that freaked you out. Why didn't you wake me up if I was having horrible nightmares? It wasn't until after nearly a day of anger and confusion, that it dawned on me that you sat there and watched me suffer who-knows-what horrific visions and nightmares.
And watched.
And did nothing except pass judgement and declare me unfit.
That's cruel and insulting.
Thanks for taking the time to get to know me. If you had, you'd understand that I have to say/write/play crazy shit in order to stay sane. Otherwise, I'd be like you-repressed and afraid ,without any productive way to channel all that excess energy, good or bad.
Maybe Jesus and television are enough to make you happy, but that's not enough for me.
Except during football season. While you're at Church, me and Jesus'll be kickin' back and watching the games. He's pretty cool, for a liberal. He can turn tap water into draft beer and He never welches on a debt. (He bets on the Saints. )
In addition, I would like to extend my gratitude to you for not gossiping about our private business with the other women at work. Unlike men, women never say things to each other like:
"Guess who I fucked this weekend? Wait'll you hear this..."
Yeah. Right.
I can tell as soon as I get to work that word is out.
No one flirts with me.
No one jokes with me.
No one even talks to me, unless they need a problem fixed.
That's not entirely true. I still have some work-pals. I'm just angry that you would tell anyone at work about any of this. Yes, I know I'm putting this on the web, where it'll be seen by over several people-BUT- they don't know your name. They don't work with you. You don't have to wait in line with them at the cafeteria and endure their scrutiny as they try to figure out what's wrong with you.
Now, I do.
Thanks.
What did I say? Another woman's name? An ode to axe-murder? Oedipal Text? Big deal.
We all think crazy thoughts. It's how one acts on them that is important.
Today, I thought about throwing a chair through the window of my damncube. Crazy thought.
I also considered tossing all my paperwork onto the floor, dousing it with lighter fluid and seeing how many marshmallows I could toast before the sprinklers kicked in.
Hmmm...this doesn't sound so unreasonable. Maybe I should see a shrink.
You know what a shrink would say? He'd say, " you seem to use humour as a coping device, a defense mechanism for addressing negative stress and emotional discomfort."
Well, duh. Isn't that better than using a razor blade, a jar of pills or a gun? Can't we just skip the obvious and go to the Rorschach Test? Ink blots are pretty. They remind me of snowflakes and bloodstains.
Shrinkperson would reply, " let's discuss these suicidal feelings and the accompanying implied violence and hostility."
I'd have to kill him.
And myself.
Furthermore, if I cared about someone and they were speaking in lunatic verse while sleeping, I'd be inclined to talk it out with them first. I wouldn't show them the door and recommend psychiatry.
Thanks for that advice.
Why not just tell me that I'm not important to you? It's as if you're saying the same thing.
You won't even tell me what it was that I said that freaked you out. Why didn't you wake me up if I was having horrible nightmares? It wasn't until after nearly a day of anger and confusion, that it dawned on me that you sat there and watched me suffer who-knows-what horrific visions and nightmares.
And watched.
And did nothing except pass judgement and declare me unfit.
That's cruel and insulting.
Thanks for taking the time to get to know me. If you had, you'd understand that I have to say/write/play crazy shit in order to stay sane. Otherwise, I'd be like you-repressed and afraid ,without any productive way to channel all that excess energy, good or bad.
Maybe Jesus and television are enough to make you happy, but that's not enough for me.
Except during football season. While you're at Church, me and Jesus'll be kickin' back and watching the games. He's pretty cool, for a liberal. He can turn tap water into draft beer and He never welches on a debt. (He bets on the Saints. )
In addition, I would like to extend my gratitude to you for not gossiping about our private business with the other women at work. Unlike men, women never say things to each other like:
"Guess who I fucked this weekend? Wait'll you hear this..."
Yeah. Right.
I can tell as soon as I get to work that word is out.
No one flirts with me.
No one jokes with me.
No one even talks to me, unless they need a problem fixed.
That's not entirely true. I still have some work-pals. I'm just angry that you would tell anyone at work about any of this. Yes, I know I'm putting this on the web, where it'll be seen by over several people-BUT- they don't know your name. They don't work with you. You don't have to wait in line with them at the cafeteria and endure their scrutiny as they try to figure out what's wrong with you.
Now, I do.
Thanks.
What did I say? Another woman's name? An ode to axe-murder? Oedipal Text? Big deal.
We all think crazy thoughts. It's how one acts on them that is important.
Today, I thought about throwing a chair through the window of my damncube. Crazy thought.
I also considered tossing all my paperwork onto the floor, dousing it with lighter fluid and seeing how many marshmallows I could toast before the sprinklers kicked in.
Hmmm...this doesn't sound so unreasonable. Maybe I should see a shrink.
You know what a shrink would say? He'd say, " you seem to use humour as a coping device, a defense mechanism for addressing negative stress and emotional discomfort."
Well, duh. Isn't that better than using a razor blade, a jar of pills or a gun? Can't we just skip the obvious and go to the Rorschach Test? Ink blots are pretty. They remind me of snowflakes and bloodstains.
Shrinkperson would reply, " let's discuss these suicidal feelings and the accompanying implied violence and hostility."
I'd have to kill him.
And myself.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
I Ruin Everything
I would probably be able to maintain a serious relationship with a woman if I restricted my speech to comments about how beautiful she is and rarely, if ever spoke honestly about anything else. Especially in my sleep. I have extremely vivid dreams; I suppose most would consider them nightmares, but I'm usually aware that I'm dreaming and just sort of run with it. Sometime I really enjoy them, especially the ones that are inspired by violent video games.
However, I didn't realize that my sleeping carcass was providing a spoken narrative to go with it.
Not surprisingly , I say some deeply troubling things in my sleep.
At least I don't snore.
In the morning, I'm told I need to leave and go get help. Anyone know of a walk-in psychiatrist who works for free and on Sundays? Guess it's guitar and blog. I suppose a few beers wouldn't hurt. How do you get help for-sleep-talking? Do I even want that? I think it's probably just a way for my subconscious to cleanse itself of bad thoughts and feeling, not a sign of illness at all.
Usually, when I wake up, I remain in bed for a few minutes and try to sort out what I dreamt about ,and why. It helps me gather my wits and plan my day.
Shit!
I already told one other girl that I was seeing someone else, and I had second thoughts about "dating" a 19-year old who thinks giving head in the parking lot during lunch hour does not constitute cheating on her fiance because "it's not really sex." She's also a Born-Again recovering alcoholic. At 19.
I'm a magnet for crazy. I wish opposites really did attract. A sane lover would be very welcome. Sadly, the only sane women I know are gay, taken or both.
My desire for love is a black hole.
All light, no matter how bright it may be at one moment , cannot avoid being extinguished, crushed and sucked into a vortex from which there is no escape.
On the other hand, my unwelcome opinions and observations are a fucking supernova, destroying everything around me and visible from millions of light-years away.
The women I've met recently either think I'm a wild-eyed left-wing liberal extremist because I hate Bush, hate his war, hate his foreign and domestic policies and especially dislike the handlers and lackeys that surround him. I will never shop at Wal-Mart. I won't eat McDonald's or Dominoes. I don't support the sale of automatic weapons. Pro-Choice. Godless. I never buy a new car or an American car. I buy old Hondas and drive them until they won't go anymore. This takes years. And, I don't litter, which makes me a tree-hugger to some.
Or, they think that I'm an unenlightened right-wing ditto-monkey because I advocate for smaller government, support the basic idea of the 2nd amendment (see above) , eat meat, watch football and would rather work for a company I don't like than live on welfare from a government that I despise. I generally respect the faith of others, unless they use it as smoke-screen to hide hypocritical stances and behavior.
Being at a party that was divided into vegan/sober and meat/beer sections really made me question the " hippie/punk progressive" mindset.
Then there's stuff like this:
"We will bankrupt ourselves in the vain search for absolute security."
Dwight D. Eisenhower
"Sacred cows make the tastiest hamburger."
- Abbie Hoffman
"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed."- General Dwight D. Eisenhower
"You're not to be so blind with patriotism that you can't face reality. Wrong is wrong, no matter who does it or says it. "
Malcolm X
"Each choose that method that expresses your selfhood best, and condemn no other man because he expresses his Self otherwise."
- Voltairine De Cleyre
"If we cannot by reason, by influence, by example, by strenuous effort, and by personal sacrifice, mend the bad places of civilization, we certainly cannot do it by force. "
Auberon Herbert, 1894
See? I can't win. I like Ike , who was probably the least partisan of modern presidents- I have grievances with him, his Vice-President comes to mind... but
I like Malcom X, Thomas Jefferson and obscure 19th century anarchists. I like the Miami Dolphins football team and I like real-life dolphins even more. But I'm not going to 'liberate' the dolphins and Beluga whales from the Hood Aquarium. And I'm not going to bet on the M. Dolphins, because they'll probably lose a lot of games next season...grrrr.
I read comic books and historical non-fiction.
Ideas are interesting. Why can't one explore them from different perspectives without being a hypocrite?
However, I didn't realize that my sleeping carcass was providing a spoken narrative to go with it.
Not surprisingly , I say some deeply troubling things in my sleep.
At least I don't snore.
In the morning, I'm told I need to leave and go get help. Anyone know of a walk-in psychiatrist who works for free and on Sundays? Guess it's guitar and blog. I suppose a few beers wouldn't hurt. How do you get help for-sleep-talking? Do I even want that? I think it's probably just a way for my subconscious to cleanse itself of bad thoughts and feeling, not a sign of illness at all.
Usually, when I wake up, I remain in bed for a few minutes and try to sort out what I dreamt about ,and why. It helps me gather my wits and plan my day.
Shit!
I already told one other girl that I was seeing someone else, and I had second thoughts about "dating" a 19-year old who thinks giving head in the parking lot during lunch hour does not constitute cheating on her fiance because "it's not really sex." She's also a Born-Again recovering alcoholic. At 19.
I'm a magnet for crazy. I wish opposites really did attract. A sane lover would be very welcome. Sadly, the only sane women I know are gay, taken or both.
My desire for love is a black hole.
All light, no matter how bright it may be at one moment , cannot avoid being extinguished, crushed and sucked into a vortex from which there is no escape.
On the other hand, my unwelcome opinions and observations are a fucking supernova, destroying everything around me and visible from millions of light-years away.
The women I've met recently either think I'm a wild-eyed left-wing liberal extremist because I hate Bush, hate his war, hate his foreign and domestic policies and especially dislike the handlers and lackeys that surround him. I will never shop at Wal-Mart. I won't eat McDonald's or Dominoes. I don't support the sale of automatic weapons. Pro-Choice. Godless. I never buy a new car or an American car. I buy old Hondas and drive them until they won't go anymore. This takes years. And, I don't litter, which makes me a tree-hugger to some.
Or, they think that I'm an unenlightened right-wing ditto-monkey because I advocate for smaller government, support the basic idea of the 2nd amendment (see above) , eat meat, watch football and would rather work for a company I don't like than live on welfare from a government that I despise. I generally respect the faith of others, unless they use it as smoke-screen to hide hypocritical stances and behavior.
Being at a party that was divided into vegan/sober and meat/beer sections really made me question the " hippie/punk progressive" mindset.
Then there's stuff like this:
"We will bankrupt ourselves in the vain search for absolute security."
Dwight D. Eisenhower
"Sacred cows make the tastiest hamburger."
- Abbie Hoffman
"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed."- General Dwight D. Eisenhower
"You're not to be so blind with patriotism that you can't face reality. Wrong is wrong, no matter who does it or says it. "
Malcolm X
"Each choose that method that expresses your selfhood best, and condemn no other man because he expresses his Self otherwise."
- Voltairine De Cleyre
"If we cannot by reason, by influence, by example, by strenuous effort, and by personal sacrifice, mend the bad places of civilization, we certainly cannot do it by force. "
Auberon Herbert, 1894
See? I can't win. I like Ike , who was probably the least partisan of modern presidents- I have grievances with him, his Vice-President comes to mind... but
I like Malcom X, Thomas Jefferson and obscure 19th century anarchists. I like the Miami Dolphins football team and I like real-life dolphins even more. But I'm not going to 'liberate' the dolphins and Beluga whales from the Hood Aquarium. And I'm not going to bet on the M. Dolphins, because they'll probably lose a lot of games next season...grrrr.
I read comic books and historical non-fiction.
Ideas are interesting. Why can't one explore them from different perspectives without being a hypocrite?
Friday, June 17, 2005
Strange Fruit
Listen
And weep.
If you don't know what this is about
Shame on you
And history
Think.
With a dry eye you dismissed
A person that you once possessed
Murder was a signature on
Photos intended to impress
And weep.
If you don't know what this is about
Shame on you
And history
Think.
With a dry eye you dismissed
A person that you once possessed
Murder was a signature on
Photos intended to impress
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Overdue (Revised)
Note: I sure am glad that my date 'post-phoned' , freeing up my evening to re-write crap that almost no one reads anyway.
Sincerely, I'd like to thank tif for the gentle, yet motivating comment. I think it's the only example of 'constructive criticism ' i've ever seen. So I revised this post.
I was reading this post
by tif dated 7/15 about a music festival and it made me feel sentimental. Those Rock Against Racism/Reagan smoke-ins were awesome!
Then it made me paranoid. Look at all those people. A bunch of hippie, punk , pagan,vegetarian, tree-huggin' commie pinkos, queers, liberal libertarians anarchists, reality- based journalists, two-faced narcs, idiots and other normal folks .
My sources indicate that a significant number of attendees may have been under the influence of one or more Controlled Substances.
I'm surprised the guys from the Alphabet Agencies haven't already snagged some ELF/PETA/NORML type, shot him/her full of drugs , strapped explosives around them , stuffed their pockets with Agency-generated 'anti-American' propaganda, i.e, "If you love animals more than you love God and Country", bomb this Research facility", and given them a free ticket to the show. They'd cover the victim with Hilary '08 buttons fashioned from depleted Uranium.
Push a button.
Big Bang.
Show over.
What a propaganda coup for the far-right! The press would go wahoo apeshit with stories about
the " Liberal, anti-war, pro-Hilary, pro- drugs Eco-Terrorist." For example:
'Dirty' Eco-Bomber Found To Have Links To Clinton, Drug Trade
Sincerely, I'd like to thank tif for the gentle, yet motivating comment. I think it's the only example of 'constructive criticism ' i've ever seen. So I revised this post.
I was reading this post
by tif dated 7/15 about a music festival and it made me feel sentimental. Those Rock Against Racism/Reagan smoke-ins were awesome!
Then it made me paranoid. Look at all those people. A bunch of hippie, punk , pagan,vegetarian, tree-huggin' commie pinkos, queers, liberal libertarians anarchists, reality- based journalists, two-faced narcs, idiots and other normal folks .
My sources indicate that a significant number of attendees may have been under the influence of one or more Controlled Substances.
I'm surprised the guys from the Alphabet Agencies haven't already snagged some ELF/PETA/NORML type, shot him/her full of drugs , strapped explosives around them , stuffed their pockets with Agency-generated 'anti-American' propaganda, i.e, "If you love animals more than you love God and Country", bomb this Research facility", and given them a free ticket to the show. They'd cover the victim with Hilary '08 buttons fashioned from depleted Uranium.
Push a button.
Big Bang.
Show over.
What a propaganda coup for the far-right! The press would go wahoo apeshit with stories about
the " Liberal, anti-war, pro-Hilary, pro- drugs Eco-Terrorist." For example:
'Dirty' Eco-Bomber Found To Have Links To Clinton, Drug Trade
Washington D.C- Investigators from the newly-formed Bureau of Obfuscation today disclosed some startling findings based on the evidence found at the Nevada desert scene of last week's 'Dirty Hippie Bombing', which killed over 700,000,000,000,000,001 attendees and Zygote-Americans during the Anti- Gitmopalooza Testing Ground Music Festival . Experts were able to identify the bomber as notorious comic-book character Phineas P. Phreak, after finding Mr. Phreak's intact wallet and numerous other incriminating items at the bottom of the approximately 100 yard diameter crater that was otherwise filled with charred and unidentifiable irradiated rubble and remains.
BoO spokesperson Ed Anger had this to say, " We have found conclusive evidence linking Mr. Phreak to both Sen. Clinton and numerous other liberal activist groups, which may or may not include PETA, NORML ,NOW and the NEA. Both NEA's. The Education one and the Homosexual-Agenda Art welfare one.
At this moment we we cannot comment further; save to say that the thousands of witnesses , um, er ,(pause), survivors... uh, are receiving the best care our medical staff can provide, but we cannot disclose the location of the Treatment Center due to security concerns. Remember, it's in the interest of Freedom that we bring thousands of maimed civilians and corpses to bombed -out and unequipped clinics in Iraq and deny working Americans afforable gasoline and healthcare."
----
The "liberal" press ignores the fact that Abortion Clinic Bombers and Doctor Shooters have been advocating this sort of thing for years- Eric Rudolph is a hero to extremists, for example. I'm not a Christian , nor am I a theologian, but I'm 100% certain that Jesus would be steadfast in his oppositon to assassination, war, murder and the global exploitation of the poor.
Heal the sick, teach the children, feed the hungry, protest at the 'temple' of the money-lenders (ow!) , call-out the street -corner hypocrites and refuse to back away from petty tyranny and the Roman Empire. Jesus was a liberal socialist who died for the same reason he'd die today. Ideas.
Tyranny and fear.
Jesus was a great philosopher- I wish that so-called Christians could live up to his expectations -such as -people shouldn't hurt each other. Simple, eh? No.
Forgiveness?
We all carry grudges.
Forever. Scars, punishment, lessons and rewards. Good and bad.
I don't need a God to tell me that.
Sadly, religious fundamentalism has always produced nothing but war, death, suffering and assorted conflicts based on ignorance and dogmatism.
I don't need a religion to dictate my behavior.
Turn the other cheek. Eye for Eye. Pound O' flesh. Kill the infidels.
Same old Witch trials , Neo-Torquemada and the new Inquistion/ Intolerance. Kill the other infidels before they kill you.
Jesus would not approve.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Back To Normal
I'm glad that you didn't read the last post. I should never write about things that make me happy. I'm a bit confused by that whole set of situations, so later for it. I just hope I don't horribly fuck-up and ruin everything.
I'm not the least bit confused about how much I hate my job. They've got Monday Morning Buzz-Kill down to a science at Bank of Generica. Today , I'm assigned a new task: handling appraisal issues. I know nothing about this, and I don't think I can BS my way through it either.
"Boss, I don't know anything about appraisals. At all."
"It's simple. Just answer the emails and give them the info they need."
Sure. OK. Fine.
Oh, hell. Is it normal to have almost 200 emails in less than an hour? My very first mail, from a muckety-muck Bank Boss , was pretty much this:
" Please call personal banker and have them contact borrower regarding contacting appraiser and agent for re-scheduling of missed appointment between agent and appraiser."
What? Shouldn't the people making commissions on these loans be doing that? I hate Big Boss's who insist on passing the simplest tasks through the most convulted pipeline imaginable.
This is how you buy a house? I'm amazed that we aren't all homeless. I've never seen such a screwed-up lack of workflow anywhere, ever. I'm swamped with mail for loans that are being handled in other places. I'm being asked for codes and valuations and very specific surveying info, none of which I have access to.
"Boss. I can't deal with this."
Why?"
"Look", I say. He watches my inbox as it grows, every third second or so.
"Shit, they shouldn't be routing that to us at all, much less to you. We don't do that part here."
So he calls someone. After an hour or so, the torrent of email slows a bit. I have to examine every contract, find out where it should have been sent to, and forward it on. I'm advised this may take a week or more, which is just fucking great, since that's about how far behind I am already.
I'm not the least bit confused about how much I hate my job. They've got Monday Morning Buzz-Kill down to a science at Bank of Generica. Today , I'm assigned a new task: handling appraisal issues. I know nothing about this, and I don't think I can BS my way through it either.
"Boss, I don't know anything about appraisals. At all."
"It's simple. Just answer the emails and give them the info they need."
Sure. OK. Fine.
Oh, hell. Is it normal to have almost 200 emails in less than an hour? My very first mail, from a muckety-muck Bank Boss , was pretty much this:
" Please call personal banker and have them contact borrower regarding contacting appraiser and agent for re-scheduling of missed appointment between agent and appraiser."
What? Shouldn't the people making commissions on these loans be doing that? I hate Big Boss's who insist on passing the simplest tasks through the most convulted pipeline imaginable.
This is how you buy a house? I'm amazed that we aren't all homeless. I've never seen such a screwed-up lack of workflow anywhere, ever. I'm swamped with mail for loans that are being handled in other places. I'm being asked for codes and valuations and very specific surveying info, none of which I have access to.
"Boss. I can't deal with this."
Why?"
"Look", I say. He watches my inbox as it grows, every third second or so.
"Shit, they shouldn't be routing that to us at all, much less to you. We don't do that part here."
So he calls someone. After an hour or so, the torrent of email slows a bit. I have to examine every contract, find out where it should have been sent to, and forward it on. I'm advised this may take a week or more, which is just fucking great, since that's about how far behind I am already.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Don't Read This. It's About Sex.
I'm shocked and appalled at my recent slutty behavior.
Nah.
Actually I'm quite pleased. I've been 'busier' this past week than I was for the entire period of 1990-1998. Typically, my posts are laden with sorrow, failure, guilt and remorse , but today I'm feeling better than all that.
This all started two Fridays ago when Unknown Hippie Girl gave me one of most erotic kisses I've ever had. I think she may have been a shamaness, as she seems to have granted me an aura heretofore unknown to my usually wretched self. Women hit on me everywhere, all the time. I hope this new attractiveness lasts long enough for me to get sick of it.
(The Sun will explode before that happens.)
Last Wednesday Esmeralda calls. She's still got the boyfriend, but apparently he's having difficulty with his dingus, or some such thing. She oughta dump him and go out with me. I like her a lot and I'd be happy to keep her around.
When I got home I found that Third Kathy (from 1998?) has called. And called. And called until the memory on my phone was used up, I didn't know that was even possible. She sounds really crazy and wasted, which is normal . TK scares the hell out of me. Her two favorite things are cocaine and pain. *shudder*If she's calling , I'd better change my phone #.
And move.
To Alaska.
Friday, I'm training a cool new volunteer at the station. She's the one that I thought stood me up at the previous Friday's party, so I'm kinda surprised she showed up for tonight's session.
"What happened? I didn't see you Friday", I ask.
"I saw you. I was wearing a costume and didn't want to bother you".
"Why? I went there to see you."
"You were with your girlfriend."
Ohhh...
"Wait. I don't have a girlfriend. Let me be very clear and specific about this. I am available and interested".
Holy shit! Did I just say that? Usually ,if I like a girl, I just mumble and stare at my shuffling feet. Unless I'm drunk, in which case i often wind up embarrassing myself in the process. I was sober this time.
"Tomorrow night OK for you?"
"Yes."
Sunday was a day of rest.
Today , work was pretty hot. There's this 19-yr old girl who always seems to find reasons to visit my isolated damncube and talk. I just figured her as doing the normal teenage flirty thing, and I don't date kids less than half my age anyway. And she's always blathering about her fiance, who sounds like a real doofus.
So she asks me to show her something on the computer that she already knows how to do. She leans in close. Very close. So close that I stop typing.
"Why'd you stop?"
"Uh, your breasts have pinned my left hand to the keyboard. Not that I'm complaining."( And if i turn my head a few inches we'll be kissing).
She whispers into my ear. That's a pretty generous offer. I'm inclined to accept; if she's going to insist on playing w/ the grown-ups , so be it. I tell her we'll talk tomorrow. I really need to think this one out.
Later, I'm approached by a nice-looking Office Lady. She's only a couple years younger than me. Well within my Comfort Zone.
She introduces herself. We talk a bit and discover that we both have twin siblings, we both like music with really loud guitar and we both hate our job.
We go to lunch together and agree to make plans to go out this weekend.
I apologize for the lewdness and gloatness, but this is bizarre-in a very good way. Very confusing. Swear to Godzilla, I haven't had a serious relationship since 2000. It's a scary , yet irresistible concept. I still don't have that relationship, but I want to make the effort.
After writing this all out, I think I need to calm down a bit, make a decision about who I really like the most, and why I like her , then make the commitment attempt.
Writing sure does help the thinking.
Nah.
Actually I'm quite pleased. I've been 'busier' this past week than I was for the entire period of 1990-1998. Typically, my posts are laden with sorrow, failure, guilt and remorse , but today I'm feeling better than all that.
This all started two Fridays ago when Unknown Hippie Girl gave me one of most erotic kisses I've ever had. I think she may have been a shamaness, as she seems to have granted me an aura heretofore unknown to my usually wretched self. Women hit on me everywhere, all the time. I hope this new attractiveness lasts long enough for me to get sick of it.
(The Sun will explode before that happens.)
Last Wednesday Esmeralda calls. She's still got the boyfriend, but apparently he's having difficulty with his dingus, or some such thing. She oughta dump him and go out with me. I like her a lot and I'd be happy to keep her around.
When I got home I found that Third Kathy (from 1998?) has called. And called. And called until the memory on my phone was used up, I didn't know that was even possible. She sounds really crazy and wasted, which is normal . TK scares the hell out of me. Her two favorite things are cocaine and pain. *shudder*If she's calling , I'd better change my phone #.
And move.
To Alaska.
Friday, I'm training a cool new volunteer at the station. She's the one that I thought stood me up at the previous Friday's party, so I'm kinda surprised she showed up for tonight's session.
"What happened? I didn't see you Friday", I ask.
"I saw you. I was wearing a costume and didn't want to bother you".
"Why? I went there to see you."
"You were with your girlfriend."
Ohhh...
"Wait. I don't have a girlfriend. Let me be very clear and specific about this. I am available and interested".
Holy shit! Did I just say that? Usually ,if I like a girl, I just mumble and stare at my shuffling feet. Unless I'm drunk, in which case i often wind up embarrassing myself in the process. I was sober this time.
"Tomorrow night OK for you?"
"Yes."
Sunday was a day of rest.
Today , work was pretty hot. There's this 19-yr old girl who always seems to find reasons to visit my isolated damncube and talk. I just figured her as doing the normal teenage flirty thing, and I don't date kids less than half my age anyway. And she's always blathering about her fiance, who sounds like a real doofus.
So she asks me to show her something on the computer that she already knows how to do. She leans in close. Very close. So close that I stop typing.
"Why'd you stop?"
"Uh, your breasts have pinned my left hand to the keyboard. Not that I'm complaining."( And if i turn my head a few inches we'll be kissing).
She whispers into my ear. That's a pretty generous offer. I'm inclined to accept; if she's going to insist on playing w/ the grown-ups , so be it. I tell her we'll talk tomorrow. I really need to think this one out.
Later, I'm approached by a nice-looking Office Lady. She's only a couple years younger than me. Well within my Comfort Zone.
She introduces herself. We talk a bit and discover that we both have twin siblings, we both like music with really loud guitar and we both hate our job.
We go to lunch together and agree to make plans to go out this weekend.
I apologize for the lewdness and gloatness, but this is bizarre-in a very good way. Very confusing. Swear to Godzilla, I haven't had a serious relationship since 2000. It's a scary , yet irresistible concept. I still don't have that relationship, but I want to make the effort.
After writing this all out, I think I need to calm down a bit, make a decision about who I really like the most, and why I like her , then make the commitment attempt.
Writing sure does help the thinking.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Multi-Medium Media Stuff
I just realized I haven't posted any pics lately. Too many words. So:
This here's Chicago on a nice day- where are all the people? It was a workday, but still... Usually there's at least some people. No one here:
I don't know what to make of this:
illustration by Jim Woodring , who has dreams
about these things, before they are born:
It's all somewhat disturbing.
And then there's these:
and this:
this,
finally, from the distant past:
I don't enjoy having non-intimate persons rub my shiny scalp. Just 'cos I'm bald doesn't mean you get to rub my head. If I like you, it's ok, but my friends never really want to rub my head.
This must be how visibly pregnant mothers feel when casual pals/ strangers grant themselves belly-touch privileges . Note to man-children: Ask First . If the mom-to-be wants you to feel the baby, she will ask you to.
Finally, 80 seconds of punk rock, courtesy of Polite Society.
This here's Chicago on a nice day- where are all the people? It was a workday, but still... Usually there's at least some people. No one here:
I don't know what to make of this:
illustration by Jim Woodring , who has dreams
about these things, before they are born:
It's all somewhat disturbing.
And then there's these:
and this:
this,
finally, from the distant past:
I don't enjoy having non-intimate persons rub my shiny scalp. Just 'cos I'm bald doesn't mean you get to rub my head. If I like you, it's ok, but my friends never really want to rub my head.
This must be how visibly pregnant mothers feel when casual pals/ strangers grant themselves belly-touch privileges . Note to man-children: Ask First . If the mom-to-be wants you to feel the baby, she will ask you to.
Finally, 80 seconds of punk rock, courtesy of Polite Society.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Reprimanded
It's taking a really long time for the pills to kick in. I wonder if I even took them. I'll take some more, just in case.
I got semi-reprimanded by Boss today. That stressed me out. I almost never get reprimanded anywhere, for anything. Fired, maybe, but not reprimanded. I must be spoiled, but I'm not used to having to apologize on the job.
Early in the day, New Girl #1 was at my cube, asking me a question she already knew the answer to. She's a nice girl, but it's becoming obvious that she's spending too much time at my cube. So I'm taken aside and told to direct her questions elsewhere. Ok, that's good, because it distracts the hell out of me anyway.
Later, a realtor asks me if I'm the one who designed this (horribly confusing and disorganized) mortgage program. ( I'm a temp who makes under $20 an hour- yeah I create corporate campaigns , sure... the UFO's tell me how)
"Yes ma'am I am. I did such a good job that they demoted me to my current job, which is calling realtors to verify information on illegible faxes."
"Let me speak to your supervisor."
They talk. I'm not supposed to deviate from the script. I'm sorry, even though I do it all the time and I'm not the slightest bit sorry.
This new rule sucks, because I get pretty damn good results if I can get a chuckle out of the person I'm dealing with. Everyone is stressed-a little humour helps everyone,except the humorless.
I got semi-reprimanded by Boss today. That stressed me out. I almost never get reprimanded anywhere, for anything. Fired, maybe, but not reprimanded. I must be spoiled, but I'm not used to having to apologize on the job.
Early in the day, New Girl #1 was at my cube, asking me a question she already knew the answer to. She's a nice girl, but it's becoming obvious that she's spending too much time at my cube. So I'm taken aside and told to direct her questions elsewhere. Ok, that's good, because it distracts the hell out of me anyway.
Later, a realtor asks me if I'm the one who designed this (horribly confusing and disorganized) mortgage program. ( I'm a temp who makes under $20 an hour- yeah I create corporate campaigns , sure... the UFO's tell me how)
"Yes ma'am I am. I did such a good job that they demoted me to my current job, which is calling realtors to verify information on illegible faxes."
"Let me speak to your supervisor."
They talk. I'm not supposed to deviate from the script. I'm sorry, even though I do it all the time and I'm not the slightest bit sorry.
This new rule sucks, because I get pretty damn good results if I can get a chuckle out of the person I'm dealing with. Everyone is stressed-a little humour helps everyone,except the humorless.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Part Two: Good
So, I'm at this party and DreadBraid Girl is wearing a sign: "kiss me -$1". Ha ha. Kissing booth thing, quick lip-smack and currency exchange- no biggie, right?
Wrong.
It's The Dance of Tongues. Wow. DBG is a fired-up woman. It turns into a an ass-grabbin', oral-stabbin' standing Dry Hump. My stubbin is rubbing her button , ya know? She breathes into me - faster, moister and harder. Rub, rub. I reach through her snaky hair and find a neck. Rub.
Our teeth meet.
Our groins grind. My knees buckle and adjust for her lack of height.
Wobble and Rub.
Rub.Redrub. Redrub.
She quivers and exhales deeply into my chest.
I think she came.
I almost did.
All this in front of a bunch of strangers and one Old Friend.
Should I feel shame?
Probably, but I don't.
Wrong.
It's The Dance of Tongues. Wow. DBG is a fired-up woman. It turns into a an ass-grabbin', oral-stabbin' standing Dry Hump. My stubbin is rubbing her button , ya know? She breathes into me - faster, moister and harder. Rub, rub. I reach through her snaky hair and find a neck. Rub.
Our teeth meet.
Our groins grind. My knees buckle and adjust for her lack of height.
Wobble and Rub.
Rub.Redrub. Redrub.
She quivers and exhales deeply into my chest.
I think she came.
I almost did.
All this in front of a bunch of strangers and one Old Friend.
Should I feel shame?
Probably, but I don't.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
People Ruin Everything: Part one
Thanks a lot for that whole interest rate thing. Boss says our building will probably collapse under the weight of our incoming mortgage files. I suggest we ship all our paperwork to Baghdad. Take a look at my damncube. It's a fucking impenetrable bunker of stacked paper-you couldn't get a car bomb anywhere near it .
And can someone please fire Ms. Holmes-Bouy? Get this:
I'm faxing some crap to another office and Miss Bitch runs over," what are you doing?" , she shrills.
"Why are you asking me this?"
"I thought you were ordering documents- I do that- if you order docs without going through me, I have no choice but to report you." (ms. bitch is a temp)
Gosh. I respond so well to threats from idiots.
" Yeah. That's what I'm doin'. Ordering docs. Docs, docs, docs. I do that. Report me , whatever"...
Ms. Bitch-Person reports me.
I hope she doesn't piss off the people at her new job.
After 11 hours I escape.
I rush to the station to interview a new volunteer.
She's very smart, over 21, and prettier than a greenhouse of orchids.
I'm smitten, but I manage to muddle through the tour and interview.
She invites me to a fund-raiser party for a FP clinic. Promises of anarchy and games.
Yeah.
I go.
Turns out it's a duplex party. Downstairs is an 'alcohol' zone , complete w/ keg and bartender who mixes a strong drink. Kudos!
Upstairs is a Vegan, no booze, and the crock-pot " open-minded" scene. The food was pretty good , but the providers were morons.
I really wasn't allowed to eat food- because I was drinking. Drinks and food are non- compatible
according to the new pair o' dime.
Bummer.
I snuck up on the 'sober' floor and ate as much as I could.
Both floors reek of Weed, Armpit & Crotch.
New Girl never showed up, but I had an Old Friend with me.
We laughed.
And can someone please fire Ms. Holmes-Bouy? Get this:
I'm faxing some crap to another office and Miss Bitch runs over," what are you doing?" , she shrills.
"Why are you asking me this?"
"I thought you were ordering documents- I do that- if you order docs without going through me, I have no choice but to report you." (ms. bitch is a temp)
Gosh. I respond so well to threats from idiots.
" Yeah. That's what I'm doin'. Ordering docs. Docs, docs, docs. I do that. Report me , whatever"...
Ms. Bitch-Person reports me.
I hope she doesn't piss off the people at her new job.
After 11 hours I escape.
I rush to the station to interview a new volunteer.
She's very smart, over 21, and prettier than a greenhouse of orchids.
I'm smitten, but I manage to muddle through the tour and interview.
She invites me to a fund-raiser party for a FP clinic. Promises of anarchy and games.
Yeah.
I go.
Turns out it's a duplex party. Downstairs is an 'alcohol' zone , complete w/ keg and bartender who mixes a strong drink. Kudos!
Upstairs is a Vegan, no booze, and the crock-pot " open-minded" scene. The food was pretty good , but the providers were morons.
I really wasn't allowed to eat food- because I was drinking. Drinks and food are non- compatible
according to the new pair o' dime.
Bummer.
I snuck up on the 'sober' floor and ate as much as I could.
Both floors reek of Weed, Armpit & Crotch.
New Girl never showed up, but I had an Old Friend with me.
We laughed.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Back in the Day
This a newly-found recording of my old band. I think it's around 1998 at a club called Twister's but I can't be sure. Thanks to Mike for digging it up. He's the drummer. Jerry plays bass. I get stuck with the rest.
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