Tuesday, June 29, 2004
I washed my multivitamin down this morning with coffee. Do you suppose the vitamins and anti-vitamins will have an epic battle in my belly? I think I can feel them warring as we speak.
Day by day the resemblance between the loathsome VP of my company and the boss in that BBC show "The Office" grows. He's an overbearing, micromanaging tard, is what. And, true to form, he seems to have no idea how irritating he is. He keeps trying to be friendly, but he's awful, and I'd really prefer he go back to his front office and do whatever it is he gets paid to do. Today he told me a joke about "hebonix" (because jews are hilarious! ha!) and one about pig tits. Pig tits.
But then me and Nathan and Claudia and Joey had a private bitch session in the back, so I felt vindicated. Working in an office rocks. Who needs soap operas?
Day by day the resemblance between the loathsome VP of my company and the boss in that BBC show "The Office" grows. He's an overbearing, micromanaging tard, is what. And, true to form, he seems to have no idea how irritating he is. He keeps trying to be friendly, but he's awful, and I'd really prefer he go back to his front office and do whatever it is he gets paid to do. Today he told me a joke about "hebonix" (because jews are hilarious! ha!) and one about pig tits. Pig tits.
But then me and Nathan and Claudia and Joey had a private bitch session in the back, so I felt vindicated. Working in an office rocks. Who needs soap operas?
Friday, June 25, 2004
Welcome to the World of Stock Photography
I have to find pictures for a display my company's taking to a CPA (accountant) show in New York. What I've discovered is: stock photography is stupefyingly expensive. Corbis is the biggest company and has some of the best photos, but they want around $1,250 for each picture, depending on the rights attached to it. Who knew that something so intangible could be so expensive?
And then there's illustrations. WTF, mate?
Man putting money into coin bank shaped like a giant handshake, high over Earth
Current Music: Etta James
Current Mood: I'd rather be editing copy
Update! His name is Hank McCoy. It's a true story, I swear.
I have to find pictures for a display my company's taking to a CPA (accountant) show in New York. What I've discovered is: stock photography is stupefyingly expensive. Corbis is the biggest company and has some of the best photos, but they want around $1,250 for each picture, depending on the rights attached to it. Who knew that something so intangible could be so expensive?
And then there's illustrations. WTF, mate?
Man putting money into coin bank shaped like a giant handshake, high over Earth
Current Music: Etta James
Current Mood: I'd rather be editing copy
Update! His name is Hank McCoy. It's a true story, I swear.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Last week I found a heads-down penny on the floor of a parking deck and, thinking "I'll give someone good luck," I left it heads-up on a stripe between parking spaces. Since then, I've been finding heads-up pennies everywhere. Everywhere. Coincidence? Most likely. But you never know, maybe my penny karma is out of control.
my two cents
my two cents
Sunday, June 20, 2004
Blame the sky
Cloudy days are all well and good when I'm at work, because it's nice not to bake in my car on the drive home. On the weekend, though? Clouds, get off my sky. I feel all blah. Last night I got kind of a headache watching TV, so I went and hid in my room to read, but then I couldn't focus my eyes right. So I've either developed glaucoma, or it was a migraine. Or I'm just crazy, who knows.
Do you think packing up and moving to a new apartment ASAP is a viable alternative to screaming at Lori to JUST PICK UP AFTER HERSELF, FOR ONCE IN HER GOD-DAMNED LIFE? I feel like I'm constantly babysitting a surly teenager. It's just too much. I mean, really, how often can you ask someone to put their dirty dishes in the sink before you feel like their mom?
Current Music: Suzanne Vega, Tom's Diner
Current Mood: complainy
Cloudy days are all well and good when I'm at work, because it's nice not to bake in my car on the drive home. On the weekend, though? Clouds, get off my sky. I feel all blah. Last night I got kind of a headache watching TV, so I went and hid in my room to read, but then I couldn't focus my eyes right. So I've either developed glaucoma, or it was a migraine. Or I'm just crazy, who knows.
Do you think packing up and moving to a new apartment ASAP is a viable alternative to screaming at Lori to JUST PICK UP AFTER HERSELF, FOR ONCE IN HER GOD-DAMNED LIFE? I feel like I'm constantly babysitting a surly teenager. It's just too much. I mean, really, how often can you ask someone to put their dirty dishes in the sink before you feel like their mom?
Current Music: Suzanne Vega, Tom's Diner
Current Mood: complainy
Monday, June 14, 2004
So am I right in thinking "Yeah, so I'll see you ... sometime," is code-speak for "I'm bored with you, now move along"? Or something of that nature? Because I'm pretty darn sure it is. No, you don't get any exposition. It's a secret.
Current Music: zilch
Current Mood: a tangy mix of sad and confused
Current Music: zilch
Current Mood: a tangy mix of sad and confused
Sunday, June 13, 2004
Why aren't you reading Scary Go Round? Right now? No, really, I want to know. Surely curiosity would have made you click that link by this point. So either you're already familiar with the comic, or you're boring. My mom told me it's rude not to click links people give you. I mean, unless they're strangers. Then they probably want to take all of your money and break your computer. But we're not strangers, right? We're all friends here.
Just click the damn link.
I just want to educate you
Just click the damn link.
I just want to educate you
Friday, June 11, 2004
Mmm, delicious ignorance
"I have to confesses that I've never waded my way through Ulysses, but I'm hugely proud that we have produced a writer who's esteemed internationally," Laura Weldon, the national co-ordinator of the [Bloomsday centennial] festivals, told BBC World Service's The Ticket programme.
"So I think that's a great thing."
--
Bloomsday, as I'm sure everyone knows, is June 16, 1904. It's the day James Joyce set the monumental "Ulysses" on, chosen because he could think of no more ordinary date.
So let me get this straight. The "national co-ordinator" of the Bloomsday celebration has not only never read "Ulysses," but hasn't heard of, say, Oscar Wilde, Samuel Beckett, Johnathan Swift, Thomas Moore, George Bernard Shaw, W.B. Yeats, Seamus Heany, and a bunch of others I can't think of because I'm too irritated.
I see stupid people ...
"I have to confesses that I've never waded my way through Ulysses, but I'm hugely proud that we have produced a writer who's esteemed internationally," Laura Weldon, the national co-ordinator of the [Bloomsday centennial] festivals, told BBC World Service's The Ticket programme.
"So I think that's a great thing."
--
Bloomsday, as I'm sure everyone knows, is June 16, 1904. It's the day James Joyce set the monumental "Ulysses" on, chosen because he could think of no more ordinary date.
So let me get this straight. The "national co-ordinator" of the Bloomsday celebration has not only never read "Ulysses," but hasn't heard of, say, Oscar Wilde, Samuel Beckett, Johnathan Swift, Thomas Moore, George Bernard Shaw, W.B. Yeats, Seamus Heany, and a bunch of others I can't think of because I'm too irritated.
I see stupid people ...
Thursday, June 10, 2004
Confessions of a Clothes Whore
When I was a wee thing, I had lots of little dresses. I vaguely remember liking to stand at my closet and admire them. After my parents got divorced, Mommy didn't really have the time or money to outfit me as before, so for years I wore whatever I wanted (bad idea! bad! I have pictures ...). It was the 80's and early 90's, which is kind of an excuse, but still, yuck. Late in high school I decided that looking good was something that could apply to even me, and I started paying more attention to the stuff I put on myself so as not to be naked. Then, sophomore year in college, there came another epiphany. "Hot damn! Stores that don't end in "-Mart" sell things I'd actually want to wear!"
So, what can I say? I have good taste. And now, thanks to my new job, I also have a lot of nice pants. And a skirt. And a little sweater set. And some short-sleeve oxfords. Some day I'm going to find this J. Crew person, and I'm gonna marry him. In the Banana Republic. *giggle*
Current Music: The Shins, Saint Simon
Current Mood: worky worky ... or writey in bloggy, take your pick
When I was a wee thing, I had lots of little dresses. I vaguely remember liking to stand at my closet and admire them. After my parents got divorced, Mommy didn't really have the time or money to outfit me as before, so for years I wore whatever I wanted (bad idea! bad! I have pictures ...). It was the 80's and early 90's, which is kind of an excuse, but still, yuck. Late in high school I decided that looking good was something that could apply to even me, and I started paying more attention to the stuff I put on myself so as not to be naked. Then, sophomore year in college, there came another epiphany. "Hot damn! Stores that don't end in "-Mart" sell things I'd actually want to wear!"
So, what can I say? I have good taste. And now, thanks to my new job, I also have a lot of nice pants. And a skirt. And a little sweater set. And some short-sleeve oxfords. Some day I'm going to find this J. Crew person, and I'm gonna marry him. In the Banana Republic. *giggle*
Current Music: The Shins, Saint Simon
Current Mood: worky worky ... or writey in bloggy, take your pick
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Paycheck! Paaaaayyyycheeeeck! Money!
Oh, I got paid today. What's your excuse?
Current Music: doo dee doo, la la la
Current Mood: acquisitive
Oh, I got paid today. What's your excuse?
Current Music: doo dee doo, la la la
Current Mood: acquisitive
Monday, June 07, 2004
This is a post about not having much to say. I don't do much, so there's little to talk about.
But.
For some reason, I'm happy. I'm contented without knowing why. It's so far the opposite of what I've felt like for a million years (three? five? a decade?) that I don't really know what to think. The thought of my future was so terrifying to contemplate for so long that there are times now when I look up from my work and marvel. I'm tired. I have just a few hours to myself each day, which I generally spend resting. But I'm happy. That's all I ever really wanted.
also I'm boring
But.
For some reason, I'm happy. I'm contented without knowing why. It's so far the opposite of what I've felt like for a million years (three? five? a decade?) that I don't really know what to think. The thought of my future was so terrifying to contemplate for so long that there are times now when I look up from my work and marvel. I'm tired. I have just a few hours to myself each day, which I generally spend resting. But I'm happy. That's all I ever really wanted.
also I'm boring
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
I'm so tired. It takes me 25-30 minutes to get down to Anaheim in the mornings, but I have to get up at 6:30. Then I sit in traffic for AN HOUR to get home. Every fucking day. It's killing me, I swear. My good humor ("Yay! No more work!") can only sustain me for 45 minutes or so of creeping northward at 20mph. After that I start screaming obscenitites at people. Not that they don't deserve it. Yesterday a man whom I honked at for drifting partly into my lane went apeshit (I could see him gesturing at me and shouting) and proceeded to chase me down the I-5 for several miles. CHASE ME. What the fuck is wrong with people?! So my days are fine, really, until I leave work. I can't even enjoy being at home because I'm residually pissed at every other driver in the Southland, and then there's Lori moping around joblessly. So bipolar, these days.
Current Music: Frou Frou, Let Go
Current Mood: vaguely bitchy, in an exhausted, passive way
Current Music: Frou Frou, Let Go
Current Mood: vaguely bitchy, in an exhausted, passive way
