April 9, 2008


Many moons ago, I told you about the movie I was going to make, an epic on the scale of Independence Day or anything else with Will Smith in it. You may have thought I was a one-trick pony when it comes to film making, but I have other ideas up my sleeve.

Once upon a time, I lived with a Good Friend who had a crush on Jeff Goldblum. Not having any skills relating to successfully stalking people, we decided that the best way to meet Jeff Goldblum and showcase Good Friend's wonderful personality, startling intellect and charismatic street-smarts would be to write, produce, direct and star in our own movie, which would also somehow involve Jeff Goldblum. So that the meeting and the stupefying could commence unimpeded.

What movie did we come up with? We didn't really have a name for it, but it was a bit of a political thriller/tearful coming-of-age story/breezy romantic comedy/feel-good event of the summer kind of movie. The plot was such:

Good Friend and I star as friends (such a stretch) who, concerned by the thousands of deaths/thousands of debilitating head injuries each year, decide that what needs to happen in the US is for a law to be passed mandating that everyone, from infancy to death, be required by law to wear a helmet. Seat belts alone are not the answer! Helmets while bike riding don't go far enough! What if you slip in the shower? Fall on ice? Tumble down stairs? Get pushed over at an Aerosmith concert? No, the only way to keep Americans safe is mandatory helmets.

Now, the big point I've left out is an important one: these helmets are not just any helmet. See, the helmets Good Friend and I designed have a bump on the front. So the helmet sort of looks like it has a big, bulbous bill on the front. This is so that should you fall forward while wearing your helmet and you land face down in some body of water like a puddle or a small pond or whatnot you will be protected from drowning by the bubble on the front of the helmet. It keeps your face out of the water, you see. This is especially important for babies, because statistics show they apparently are susceptible to drowning. Or so I've heard.

So Good Friend and I start a grassroots campaign that takes us all the way to the hallowed halls of Congress, where we meet with our State Representative Jeff Goldblum, and his intrepid personal assistant Whichever Celebrity I'm Currently In Love With. Lots of comedic hijinks ensue. Everyone falls in love, and everyone else avoids irreversible brain damage. THE END.

So today while surfing the Internet, I discovered that a company has created helmets for babies. And while there isn't a bump on the front to prevent drowning, I'm sure it's on someone's drawing board somewhere.

So I'm putting it here, on the Internet, so that should you see a baby wearing a helmet with a bump on the front to prevent drowning, you'll know where it came from and where to send the royalty check. And also where to let Jeff Goldblum know who he needs to get in touch with if he ever wants free sex. I have Good Friend's number, if he wants it.

March 28, 2008


March 27, 2008


Okay, this is some truly scary, fucked up shit right here. At first, I thought this was an April Fools joke because it was in this month's WIRED next to some famous April Fools jokes. But apparently it's totally true, and no one is reporting it.


Can you fucking believe that? NO MORE HELIUM. And apparently you can't just make more of it if you run out, because it's produced over millions of years of radioactive decay.

We're going to RUN OUT of an ELEMENT in NINE YEARS.

What the FUCK?!?!?!

Okay, maybe the article says it'll run out in Texas where they make it in the US, but still.


So, that job? I took it. It's good money. One of my bosses said they personally knew three people other than me who interviewed; they didn't know I'd even applied (I'm stealthy like Snake Eyes). One of my other bosses said the new bosses sounded like they wanted to suck my non-existent dick when they called for a reference, that's how much they loved me. Although they didn't actually put it like that. That's my interpretation.

So I took the job, and bought fifty brazillion pairs of new shoes to celebrate, and I can barely walk in any of them because I'm only used to wearing sneakers, but this is my opportunity for the New Me. I swear, I'm gonna be stylin' and profilin'. It'll be awesome, I promise.

As for law school? I'm taking Intro to Logic right now...I'd signed up in anticipation for preparing to take the LSAT. It's seriously hard. I'm already behind in the reading, and it's the first week of classes.

I was right all along: I'm too lazy for law school.

But that's not why I'm here. I'm here to post this

And yes, it made me cry.


March 17, 2008


There's nothing like working your way through yummy Bob Evans turkey dinner leftovers, only to find a gigantically long hair in the mashed potatoes.

It's probably mine, but still...yuck.

At least the dinner roll wasn't touching it. Mmmm, fluffy dinner roll.

March 14, 2008


So you know that job I mentioned in the last post?

I got it.

I've never felt so disappointed in my whole life.

March 3, 2008

"A HOPE IN HELL"--Neil Gaiman, Sandman

February 28, 2008


I don't normally talk about my job. I'm just enough of a paranoid delusional that I figure even if I never mention where I work specifically, eventually someone would figure out and I'd get fired or shipped to Gitmo or something. So I just don't talk about it.

Now I need to talk about it.

I hate my job. Okay, actually I don't really HATE it, but it's just extremely frustrating. We're in a very money-needy industry, my employers and I, and unfortunately we aren't getting as much money as we need. Because of this, cuts need to be made. And it's having a negative impact on my position.

Many years ago, I was hired here to be a glorified mail person. I showed up my first day and was promoted on the spot; one of the employees had quit over the weekend, no notice, and so I took her job. I called people about things, and mailed things off to people, but these tasks were far more involved than just dealing with the mail. I was pretty busy, but every once in a while I would take a minute or two beyond lunch to write X-Files fan fiction. Things were pretty good: I was on my own with not a care in the world, and I had few bills, a cheap apartment, and I was making enough money to buy myself crap and drink occasionally.

Then six months later, I was promoted again. A guy left for greener pastures and I took over. Now I was ordering stuff, and fucking around with computer databases. I was drunk with power. Okay, not really. But I really enjoyed what I was doing: it required a lot of attention to detail, and there were precise rules that needed followed, and it was a whole different experience than the retail I'd been working. I loved it so much that I started going to school to learn more about it. I paid for the whole thing myself, with no loans; the upside was that once I had a degree in hand, the big money and bigger opportunities would start rolling in.

After a while, the person who'd taken my old job left. Rather than fill the position, the duties were split equally: one guy got to call people, and I got to mail things off to people. I was still doing my job, but half of the other person's job got tacked on. Okay, no sweat.

But then something insidious happened: the money really started to dry up. The money that should have refilled the position became the money that should have paid for things I could order. So now I wasn't really ordering much anymore. And then stuff started showing up online, so there was no need for me to order any of those things anymore, either. And because I wasn't ordering much, the person who paid for my orders didn't have orders to pay for. So she began grabbing some of my work for herself, because what else did she have to do?

And so now it's gotten to the point that there are some days I come in, and I literally do nothing. I would be better off taking the day off than sit here perusing the internet all day. So I applied for another job.

I had an interview yesterday for a position which would be a little more involved than what I do now. I was a total spaz and shared way too much information about a great many things. I think I may be missing an internal censor when it comes to situations such as that. At least I didn't say fuck. I've been known to bust that out at inappropriate times.

The Husband seems to think I've got it sewn up, but they seemed to be concerned that I lack certain experience dealing with the public that would be an important component of the job. They would train me for everything else.

But unfortunately, yesterday showed me that I've sort of stuck myself in a corner with the job I'm presently in. I have my degree, but it's led to nothing here: I didn't get a pay raise, I didn't get any new duties. In fact, I've had duties taken away from me. So after ten years in my job--five of those years in school--I'm basically back to doing the job I was originally hired in to do.

One of the listservs I belong to had a post explaining what a person in my career needs to succeed. One of the things mentioned was a Masters in any subject other than the degree I just got. It improves your knowledge base and your marketability. Crazily, I am currently working in a place were I could, through finagling, get such a degree FOR FREE (contingent on getting into the program, of course). So why haven't I done that? Because I'm a lazy fucktard, that's why. TOO MUCH WORK. And the admittance test is really hard and I test poorly. And I might not actually like the subject. And it'd be a lot of work and I'm allergic to work. Of course, I'd have shit loads of time here at my job to do my homework, har har!

One of the interviewers asked me if getting the degree would improve my situation here at my current job, but it wouldn't: we have all the employees we need and can afford. So I'd get my second degree, and I'd STILL be doing this same shitty waste of a day job. Unless I found something else which I would probably now, by virtue of that second degree, be qualified to do.

I need someone to tell me what I should do. Part of the problem is I feel like I’m starting to fall into a funk, a true depressive episode. The Husband had to pretty much force me to write a thank you note for my interview this morning. I just don't care. But I care enough that I've had a rash all over my body for the last two days from worrying about this.

And I sort of got the impression that a lot of what the job would entail would be the sort of crap I do right now: just busy work. But then again there might be some cool research projects, and it would be more money, but probably not much more.

And then one of the interviewers said I sounded well suited for civic work, that he was surprised I hadn't considered it before now. And they were all very shocked that I had the opportunity to go to school here, for free, and that I hadn't taken it. But I think about how much work would be involved with that, and there's so much TV I need to watch...

I've reached an impasse, I think. What do I want for the long term? Do I sacrifice a degree for more money, although it probably wouldn't really be sacrificing? Do I stay here and sacrifice and try to get into school, although that probably can't be considered sacrificing, either? I told The Husband I need to find someone with a time machine, who can go into the future and come back and tell me which decision I made and let me know how it appears to have worked out. I don't know what will make me happy. Part of me says LEAVE and part of me says LOOK AT WHAT YOU'D BE LEAVING.

I'll tell you a funny story, that will put my indecisiveness in perspective:

Once upon a time in high school, I had to take a test that would tell me what I was supposed to do for the rest of my life. At the time, I really wanted to be a lawyer; all those late nights of LAW & ORDER made me want to be Jack McCoy SO BAD. I finished the test early, so I figured up the scores for myself, and I discovered to my horror that I was in absolutely no shape or way suited to be a lawyer.

I went back and changed all my answers so the test would come out for "lawyer."

I think I need to take the test again.

February 25, 2008


I don't know how long this will be online, and I can't figure out how to host it...

Saturday at Comic-con, the entire cast and crew of X-Files made their first ever convention appearance together. I'd joked to The Husband that I was totally going to go, because this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Seriously, David Duchovny AND Gillian Anderson, on stage, together? But unfortunately I forgot all about it and didn't go, hahaha. But someone was nice enough to record the teaser trailer for the new X-Files movie that they apparently showed, and they stuck it on YouTube.

By the way, I totally got chills when Mulder and Scully appeared on screen and everybody started cheering.



February 7, 2008


I'm listening to random stuff while I work on the bindery shipment.

Kim Carnes's "Bette Davis Eyes" just came on.

For some reason, I always thought the line was, "She's precocious, and she knows just what it takes to make a crow blush."

The hell? How did I ever convince myself that that made any kind of sense?