Reason # Way Too Many Why I Hate Looking for Work.

Yesterday I got a message from a place I sent my resume into saying they wanted to talk to me. The message said to give a call in this morning and so this morning I called. A couple of times. Only got their voice-mail. Not wanting to spend the entire morning going back and forth to the payphone (I do have a job, you know), I left a message saying I'll call back around 2. Checking my messages a little later, I got a message from the woman saying she'll be looking forward to receiving my call at 2.

2 comes and I call. Get voice-mail. Okay, so I'll just try again. She got my message so she knows I'm calling. Maybe I just called at the exact moment she was on the other line or just returning from the bathroom. I leave a message and tell her I'll try her again in about ten minutes.

Now, I'm calling from a payphone about half a block away from my office. I can't really use the phone at the office, so I'm stuck making these super important phone calls with big huge trucks and busses blasting past me. It also means that whenever I make a call, I have to leave my desk, go down three flights of stairs, and walk to the phone. Everytime I make a call, I have to do it that way. Since I told her I'd call her back in ten minutes, I decided instead of going back to my desk, I'll just walk around and kill time that way. Ten minutes later, I call again and once again get a voice-mail. I'm getting pissed now, but what else can I do? So I tell her I'll call her back in an hour and schlep back to my desk. Total time away from my desk, half an hour.

Finally, on my try after that, around three, I get through to the person and have about half an hour phone interview. Great job, lousy pay- typical.

What bugs, though, is all the effort I had to make just to get the person. I don't have a number where I can be reached, I'm still cell-phoneless (Oh my Gawd!) and so I have to do all this schlepping to make important phone calls. No biggie because it's what I have to do. However, it is a big deal if I keep on telling someone I'll call them at a certain time and they're not there.

When I talked to the lady, I got a pretty sincere apology, the ole "lunch went longer than I expected" thing and she did sound like she meant it and wasn't dicking me around. Apology accepted, though, it's mainly because I have to. But what if the shoe was on the other foot? What if I they had told me that there was going to be a phone interview at 2 and I was late from lunch? That would be bad. The chances of them calling me back would be pretty low and even if I did finally talk to them, I'm already in the hole.

Basically, phone interviews are like waiting for the Cable Guy- so much as not be there at the exact moment it goes down and your screwed. God forbid you step out for a second or have to even go to the bathroom. Basically, if you have a phone interview, you have to down about a handful of Pepto Bismols and piss every fifteen minutes before-hand just to make sure that nothing, but nothing will keep you from not being there by the phone. But it's perfectly okay for the person on the other end to miss the appointment because she's off having a three-martini lunch and the crème brulee is a little late allthewhile I've spent all the time I could be working making the phone calls and spending money on my phone card for the long-distance calls.

And why do companies keep on telling you they'll make a decision in a day or two, then when that day comes, tell you they're talking to more people and it'll be another few days. And so on and so forth? Do they even know what it's like for the person who interviewed there? You spend the entire day checking your phone messages every half an hour, your e-mail every half an hour, and ride a roller coaster of emotion all day, only to find out at the end of the day that the company can't make a decision. Then there's like a two day breather and it all starts up again. It's torture I's tell ya. Not only that, the job in question isn't that fucking difficult (I know, I've done it before and can do it in my sleep, something which I can vouch for because I was way hungover for a huge part of my stint at that job).

Meanwhile, tomorrow's the big interview with the company that I first interviewed with almost exactly a year ago. Still haven't hired anyone and still want me to come in for an interview when I've already met everyone. Would be kind of ironic if I got the job, kind of a full circle type thing. Not to mention how they might be my last hope. Or if they do hire me, they'll basically have put me through a year of hell just because they couldn't decide whether or not they could afford me.

Oy.

Ah yes, even better than the Office Birthday Party, the Office Birthday Card. "Happy Birthday!" signed "the guy who you don't know, and who has know idea who you are- the Temp with the sour look on his face, always has headphones on, and spends half the day surfing the Web."

The job sitch has taken another turn, an out of left-field, "huh" turn. Basically, if I get the job I interviewed for last week, everything in my life gets easy. If I don't get it, things get really, really confusing. Which means that things are about to get really, really messy cause if there's anything I'm sure of, it's that if something could happen that'll make one's life way easier, it'll never happen. Buckle up…..

Alrighty, I'm gonna try something new here, something I've always thought about doing. Nobody's probably gonna read it, but what the hell, it's my blog page.

What I'm gonna do is I'm gonna take an entire article, one that's almost a parody of itself, and add my own little comments to it. The article in question is about- you guessed it, Ladyfest. I wouldn't have done it since I've already talked about it, but this one was too hard to pass up. And keep in mind too, that I'm only doing this because I find all of this really, really silly considering what's going on in the world- an Al Queda training camp discovered in Alabama, the Administration preparing to invade Iraq despite the fact nobody can come up with any good reason too, the economy still tanking and one after another corporate entity admitting they cooked the books, and a new Get Tough on White Collar Crime bill that if would have been enacted years ago would have resulted in the President and Vice-President being in Prison.

And not only am I so going to hell for doing this, but I better hope I don't have a date for the next couple of months and some woman stumbles upon this. Remember, send your nasty comments to hoorayforanything@yahoo.com, but considering what most of my traffic is looking for, I'm probably not gonna get much.....

Italics are mine
Feminism
can be fun

BY GINA ARNOLD

"Hey, lady!"

Yell that in public if you dare -- you'll get a dirty look from most women,
since "lady" has long ceased to be a compliment. Has it? But if you shouted
it at Ladyfest -- the four-day festival of art, music, workshops and panels
in San Francisco last weekend -- you'd have gotten a cheer. There, "lady" is
a positive epithet, as are other hot-button words like "bitch" and 'feminist.
So when Snoop refers to his bitches and ho's, he's showing his respect to
women?

It's the latest take on feminism -- and judging by Ladyfest, which took place
Thursday through Sunday at the new Gay Lesbian Bisexual Transgender Center on
Market Street and other venues around The City, it's a lot more fun than the
last go-round. Yeah, heard last one was a huge-snooze fest.

Instead of earnest conversations about menstruating and a lot of tears
now that sounds like a party, Ladyfest was about self-expression I'm
coming up so we can get the party started!. It featured an eclectic mix
of goofy girly stuff (knitting and doll making forums) wow, politics (a presentation
by a foreign correspondent who has reported from the Gaza Strip) and that
has what to do with feminism? Wasn't there a well-documted gang-rape in Pakistan?
Oh wait, it's because the far left is borderline anti-semitic. Know something
else? My guess is there's not gonna be a Ladyfest in Israel or Gaza mainly because
they're too busy trying not to be killed than going to dollmaking forums,
and how-to workshops on hitchhiking and starting one's own record label.

There also were many parties. All weekend, ladies ran amok in the Mission
and the Castro, and were having a gas. Some were punk rockers, with combat books
and tattoos. Some were feminist studies majors with cute bobbed haircuts and
adorable clothing. There were workers, activists, teachers, mothers, teenagers
and transsexuals. What about, say, black/Asian/hispanic women. Or poor women.
Or, say, Vice-Presidents of some company?

There were flame-haired girls with glasses, like 25-year-old Katherine Hodges,
who flew in from Chicago to attend, hoping for inspiration for her work as an
activist back home. Hodges said she was interested in this version of Ladyfest
because many of her favorite writers and activists -- like Bitch magazine founder
Lisa Miya-Jervis and fat activist Marilyn Wann -- come from the Bay Area.
I got no joke here. Sorry.

She was also inspired by cable TV star Dee Dee Russell?, who told the
audience at her workshop, "How To Become A Cable Access Television Star," oooh.
You know how you do it? You contact the local cable-access people and ask them
if you can have a show. Then they give you a time your show will air and you
film it. How do I know? Because I know people who did it. It's fucking easy.
"I'm known for bragging and being self-aggrandizing. I really advocate that.
You're going to get called a bitch no matter what you do, so you may as well
do what you want and brag about it." You go girl!

In addition, each day featured numerous workshops and discussion groups, with
themes ranging from doll making and knitting Gloria Stienem will be so proud
to menstrual extraction lovely and self-publishing umm, sign up with
blogger.com and start blogging?. There also were forums for discussing fat
and body image problems, transgender health issues and "contemporary femme identity."
Didn't Bush just stop funds to a
U.N. population control fund? Didn't he submit for the Judicial
ship someone whose pretty anti-abortion? Don't you think that stuff's kind of important?

At that workshop, 25 pretty young women As I walked around the 'hood this
weekend, I can assure you that there weren't a lot of pretty young women walking
around. More like fat, tattooed, and spiky dyed haired. affirmed each other's
liking for lipstick, heels and other feminine accoutrements which, they say,
gets them branded weak, apathetic, apolitical, vulnerable, and worst of all,
straight. Oh no! And what is "affirmed each other" Does that mean they sat
around and said "I affirm you?" Isn't that pretty much what happens in your
average Ladies Room?

"It's like a tree falling in the forest," see below comments already
posted complained Devon, a stripper and drag queen from Berkeley hopefully
not at any of the strip clubs I go to. "If no one identifies me as a femme,
but I identify myself as such, then am I one?" And I care because…..

Women in the audience nodded with appreciation, wondering out loud how --
and why -- we take visual cues to define ourselves. Reverand!.

Some participants were actively hostile to men Oh my God, men hating radical
feminists, there's a shocker. "When I wear lipstick," said a French woman
named Miriam, "I feel like I am using one of their weapons against me, against
them." Stupid French. Was that the explination behind Vichy France?

"I really enjoyed discussing that," Erica Sagrans, 19, a student from Brown
University, said afterward. "It's great to bring your personal experiences to
a discussion. At school, that's not really an accepted source of knowledge."
Yeah, Brown is such a stuffy, conservative college. They have no grades people!

In addition to providing a forum for controversial issues, many of the workshops
focused on ways to increase women's independence and sense of adventure. Again,
isn't there anything else to be worrying about?

That was the idea behind "The Idiot's Guide to Hitchhiking and Train-hopping,"
at which a mysterious man named Xarick told participants how to recognize which
types of boxcars were potentially rideable, how to grab them, and what to do
if caught. ("You can climb in the wheel-well, if you need to be real secret,
or ride in the axle for super-stealth!") And this is feminism because....
Sounds kind of fun, though.

Another fun activity was stilt-making. "Stilts aren't feminist in their own
right," shrugged workshop leader Leonie Newhouse, "but women making them is
kind of feminist." Remember, people are getting gang-raped in Pakistan. And
if I made stilts, would that not be political because I'm a guy or would that
be too patriarchal?

So is her use of the word "feminist," which in mainstream America has become
synonymous with adjectives like radical, lesbian, humorless and unpleasant never
heard that criticism before. Here's a joke- how many feminists does it take
to screw in a light-bulb? That's not funny.. Ladyfest would like to change
that perception, Judging by the level of fun at the fest, and the youthfulness
of the constituency, it already has. I'm sure women in Afghanistan and Pakistan
are probably feeling better right now.

Still, its message reflects that of classic feminism: Women are excluded from
the power structure of mainstream culture -- or they're degraded and ignored
and objectified when they get there. Ladyfest argues that the way to fight is
to take control of culture and the media. Alright, they got a point there,
but stilt-making?

Krause, the Chicagoan who attended the "How To Be A Cable Access Star" workshop,
said she hopes to start a cable show at home. That's it? That's all she got
out of it? All that affirming and talk, and her big motivation is to start a
Cable Access show? Susan B. Anthony would be so proud.

Calling the energy at Ladyfest "incredible," she added, "Being here is like
the opposite of being immersed in mass culture. This is like taking a mini-vacation
from the fight." The fight against bad Cable Access shows?

Keep on rocking in the free word….

It's kind of funny I posted that thing about Anna Kournikovia because I got at least three people logging onto this site today looking for naked pictures of the World's Most Famous Bad Tennis Player. On the one hand, it kind of sucks that half my traffic is people looking for pictures of Ms. Kournikovia au naturel, but if it weren't for them, I'd be getting almost no traffic.

Speaking of traffic, as you might have noticed, I can tell who clicks on and how many hits I get. From a little gadget called Sitemeter, I can see what the ISP is of the people who log on and I can also tell how they got to my site. Which is how I know about all the people looking for pictures of Anna's bazoomba's.

All of this is kind of cool.

Well, it was up until I was Google stalking someone the other night and suddenly got paranoid about it. Because maybe they can do what I can do.

I love Google stalking. It's such a fun thing to do when you're bored or intensely curious- just put in a name of someone you want to catch up on and see what you can find. That way you could find out all sorts of interesting things about people without them actually knowing you did it. So, I was Google stalking my White Whale (more about her later) and found myself on a Web site of one of her friends. Then I sat there and thought about it. What happens if they have Sitemeter and they can find out that I came to the site searching for this particular person? Yeah, they wouldn't know it was me, per se, but they'd be able to see that instead of coming to their site by say, looking for naked pictures of Anna Kournikovia, I got there by doing a search on this person's name. And I don't know about them, but I'd be kind of freaked out if I found out that somebody came to my site by searching for me (which due to a stupid mistake on my part, can happen). If I go to Sitemeter and see that they put my name in and found me that way, it would kill me. Besides feeling kind of paranoid, I'd be wondering who the hell was searching for me. Was it a possible employer? Someone from my past? Someone in my near future? The White Whale Google stalking me?

And now I'm thinking that I'm getting too paranoid to even Google stalk anyone. Damnit.

For all those people coming to this site, I would just like to let you know that no, I do not have any naked pictures of Anna Kournikovia here. Not only that, I don't know where to find any because I'm pretty sure they don't exist. Sorry.

If I knew where they were, I'd let you know.

I only bring this up because it is rather disapointing to get the reports on traffic to the site and find out that over half of the people who come here are just people trying to find a pictuere of Anna Kournikovia's tits.

I had this long rant prepared about how companies have you drag your ass on down for an interview, make you sit anxiously by the phone, and then never have the common decency to let you know you didn't get the job. It was good. All of this was because I was stressed out over that job I was waiting to hear back from. Just as I was hitting full-on panic mode, they went out and sent me an e-mail letting me that it'll take a few more days than they said it would, so. They even said to have a nice weekend.

Isn't that nice? (No really, I mean it, no sarcasm intended).

And isn't that easy? The whole communicating thing. See, it's all about R-E-S-P-E-C-T- take care of TCP- and even if I don't get the job, I'll feel better about the whole thing. Because they at least they treated me well and with dignity. Of course, they could still hire someone else and not tell me, in which case that rant' will be posted faster than you can say "Ben Afleck's dating J-Lo?". And it also means I had the entire weekend to do some more stressing and have all of this week to do some more. Not to mention analyze every word of the e-mail that I received, like some high-school girl just being passed a note from some guy in Science class, just to see if I can figure out what's gonna happen, but still.

I also got an e-mail about some job completely out of the realm of not only what I was looking for, but what I have experience in. When I talked to them on the phone, I kept on wanting to ask them if they had me confused with someone else. The HR person even pulled up my resume while I was on the phone with her and I still wanted to ask her if it really was my resume.

But that wasn't the crazy thing. The crazy thing was the salary- a managerial position somewhere in the high '30's. Are they serious? Do they live here? Do they know how expensive this area is? And it's not an easy job too. When I see job postings that list a salary somewhere in the low 30's, I just laugh. Who the hell do they expect to hire?

The other weird job thing was that I heard back from the Lucy Publishing Company (for those who just joined us, it's a Publishing company that has been dicking me around for almost a year about a job) about coming in for an interview. I don't trust them at all, but what else can I do? The worst part about it is that during the whole process, I have to pretend that I'm happy to see them and that it was no big deal that they jerked me around for a whole year. I'll just have to sit around, all smiles, and say things like "oh, no problem" and "no, it's no big deal, it's not like I've burned out all the money I own in the world and I'm in so much debt to my credit card companies that Big Pussy is calling me every other day." The way I see it, they owe me a job for dicking me around so much. They've had me bend over so many times for them that they can tell me how my prostate is doing.

Man, I need a job.

Heh. Bud Selig got booed three times at the Baseball Hall of Fame ceremonies. When do you know you're a joke? When you get booed at a ceremony honoring the thing your supposed to be in charge of. Three times.

What a maroon.

Anyways, congrats to the Wizard of Oz. Oh, and Harry Kalas too. My love of baseball came partially by listening to him and Richie Ashburn call Phillies games.

Once again I found myself at the video place, looking for movies to rent. Should I rent Oscar nominated movies like Ali Should I rent quirky art flicks like The Man Who Wasn't There?? How 'bout really good serious dramas like Lantana or really good foreign flick like that Bollywood epic about cricket that I really did want to see when it was out?

Nope, of course not. I rented How High
Yes, I rented this as opposed to Gossford Park. What can I say?

Not half bad either, or at least mildly amusing at bits. I was, however, hampered in my enjoyment of it in that I was not, in fact, high while watching it. Don't think it would have helped much, though.

Still, it's good to now that in these crazy times, with the Far Right ascendant, and an Attorney General who drapes a cloth over the bare breasts of a statute, and a bill in the Sentate that would crack down on Rave promoters because some people think raves promote drug use (CAN SOMEBODY SAVE THE CHILDREN?), and when the FBI won't let someone work for them just because they took a few measly pipe hits three years ago, that someone is still making movies in which the basic jist is that smoking dope is cool.

God bless the U.S.A.

And you know, if we stopped making those movies, the terrorists will have won (okay, maybe not Osama Bin Laden, as much as John Ashcroft, but still).

Yet another lazy Sunday and yet another afternoon movie. Once again, it's trailer after trailer after trailer for something like half an hour, each for some movie you can tell within ten or fifteen seconds that they're gonna suck-ass (oh look, it's another action buddy movie starring a white guy as the uptight white authority figure guy and a black comic-relief side-kick,). And then I saw it- a quick shot of a barren landscape, a female voice sets the scene, and a few quick shoots of sweaty men drawing swords. And then these words: "the two towers have formed an alliance." My jaw drops and my eyes glaze over, it's the trailer for The Two Towers. It looks fucking awesome. Lots of battle scenes. Lots. All that and Gollum too.

Oh man, I can't wait.

As for Austin Powers Goldemember, eh. A little too much too much. Let's just say the best part of the whole movie was the Two Towers trailer. Did I mention it looked like it's gonna rock?

Yeah! It's
Ladyfest all weekend here in S.F. I'm so psyched! My neighborhood is just crawling with lesbians and wanna-be lesbians, all getting together to "bring feminist arts to the forefront and take back some cultural space with an event by us and for us."

Awesome.

Not fun enough for you? Here's what's scheduled:

"Beyond a presentation by Khazzoom -- complete with a reading from Consequences and a showing of the anti-harassment video War Zone -- there are workshops on anti-body fascism, gender identity, break dancing, being "fat as fuck," starting a record label, living like an "ethical slut," and more. For visual stimulation, the Pond Gallery hosts "Pow! The Power of Women in Illustrative and Sequential Art," an exhibit of female graffiti and cartoon artists such as Roberta Gregory (Naughty Bits) and Ariel Schrag (Awkward), and renowned New York film curator Astria Suparak delivers "Looking Is Better Than Feeling You," a compendium of the latest cool underground shorts."


Wow! And I thought Reign of Fire was fun.

Actually, today I'm not gonna get my snark on. I'm gonna take a different tact. I'm gonna try and explain why all this stuff drives me up a wall. Living where I live, in the center of Political Correctness, and seeing it every day on billboards, posters and in the papers I can't get away from it. It's even rearing it's ugly head in Buffy-land as there's a huge fight going on about the death of Tara and the "dead-lesbian cliche."

You know, one of the things about being unemployed is that it puts a lot of things into focus. You start seeing what's important and what isn't. You realize what really matters and what doesn't. Supporting yourself matters. Friends and relationships matter. Physical and emotional health matters. The reason why they matter is because they're are real. They're tangible, they exist.

On the other hand, things like "anti-body facism" or taking "back cultural space" aren't real. They're just thoughts, ideas, and theories. They're not even social constructs, really, but intellectual constructs- big, provocative words thrown together by over-educated Grad students who've read too many books on deconstructionism and have too much time on their hands.

Take "anti-body fascism" for instance. I'm guessing it's about body-image issues and how our society says one type of body issue is better than another type. Of course, I could be wrong because I must have missed that class in college. Yeah, the whole body image thing is kind of fucked, but you know what? It's not exactly just a women thing. Guys have it too, or haven't you heard about guys taking steroids just to look like they've pumped themselves up? And it's not exactly an -ism either. If some girl is pulling an Ally McBeal, she's got other issues than being put down by Patriarchial Society.

And I hate the language of it all, the throwing around provocative terms just to get a reaction. Like using the word "Fascism." You know what facism is? It's Hitler. It's Mussolini and Milosevic. It's people being thrown into jail for no reason and lots of death and no freedom. It's people telling you what you should do and say and punishing you for not following the rules. It's a real thing, a political ideology that's killed millions of people. It's not some girl constantly worrying about whether or not she's got a fat butt.

Fascism is a strong word, but it's turned into one of those words that's been thrown around so much- like Holocaust or Racism- that it's losing it's real meaning. Like when you repeat a word over and over again and suddenly realize that you can't remember what it means. It makes the issues seem important, but to compare society's beauty myths to an oppressive political system that kills millions of people is ridiculous. And that's not the only time I've heard stuff like that. The whole gentrification fight years ago was about "economic cleansing," as if an army was coming and kicking out poor people. And I once saw a poster up on Valencia months ago showed that famous picture of the Jewish kid being help up by Nazi soldiers and trying to compare Ashcroft's rounding up of hundreds of people to the Holocaust. Yeah, what Ashcroft did was kind of on the lame side, but it is, in no way, even remotely comparable.

Then there's another thing about all of this. Read that story about the girl in Pakistan, the one about the girl who got gang-raped by the townsfolks as punishment for something her family did? Now that's an awful, hideous thing- a serious, bad, violent attack against a woman. That's sexism taken to it's violent, worst extreme. It happened and probably happens more than we know. At LadyFest, they're discussing how to be an "ethical slut" and there's an exhibit about women in cartoons. A gang-rape is real, it's horrible. It's some serious shit. How to make feminist 'zines and how to have lots of sex without the guilt is not serious shit. It's, well, it's bourgeoisie. It's people without any real problems or issues making it up to make their life more dramatic than their poor, upper-middle class existence.

When I just graduated from college, I was down at my dad's in the Santa Cruz mountains hanging with him and the rest of his side of the family. One afternoon, I went for a walk with my aunts and their husbands through the Redwood forests. When I was younger, I kind of had issues with my aunts, mainly because of their Jerseyness, but as I got older, I realized that while they didn't come off like it (because of their Jerseyness), they actually have really good heads on their shoulders. As we were walking, staring at the huge, beautiful trees, I made a joke along the lines of if a tree fell in the woods- blah, blah blah, can't remember the rest of it and it probably wasn't really funny anyways. My aunt's husband, Louis laughed and told me it was something straight out of the mouth out of someone who had just gotten straight out of college. I protested and said that those were the questions that were important in life. You'll see, he told me, some day you'll have to work and make a living and you'll get too busy to wonder about whether a tree falling in the woods makes a noise or not.

And that's what I'm saying.

I wonder if I should admit that not only do I like most of the stuff I've heard of the new Pink album, I'm kind of think she's cool too.

Nope. Not gonna admit. Never, ever will I admit to something like that. I'd be so uncool for saying I like her.

Oh wait....

So when does checking your voice-mail/e-mail messages obsessive-compulsive? Every hour? Every half an hour? Every fifteen minutes.

Just wondering.

And for those who have nothing to do this weekend, here's what I'm doing. The great bastion of relevant and timely programming, The E! Channel is premiering this documentary this weekend: Family Feud- True Hollywood Story.

Not excited yet? Well, here's what your missing-

"This popular game show pulled families together, but it ripped the staff apart!
Survey Says- Egos, Death and Blackmail!
For three comedians, hosting Family Feud was more than kisses and applause. This True Hollywood Story tells the rollicking and tragic tales behind the game-show phenomonem!"

Find out about Richard Dawson's ego running amok and how he managed to stand up for civil rights by kissing black women! "Get the details of "his rise and fall--and, now, his happy reclusive lifestyle." And watch as Louie Anderson details his arrest for soliciting a male prostitute and how his "rinking and gambling problems, the scandal that nearly ruined his career and his dismissal from the show in 2002."

Does entertainment get any better than that?

Ah, the post-interview wait, my favorite part- the checking of phone messages every half an hour, the self-analysis of every word and every moment for ways I could have fucked it up, that feeling of excitement mixed with deep dread.

Rock on.

And I sit here and wonder, as I check my phone messages, various things about the interview. Was the fact that one of the interviewers ran out of questions in a couple of minutes a good thing? Was the fact we somehow got into discussions of Mission bars, The Whicker Man, Buffy, and Manchester United a good thing? I mean, did he run out of things to say because he instantly wanted to hire me (especially since I threw in "ManU" and "treble" right at the beginning of the interview when I saw all the Manchester United posters) or did he know within minutes that I was wrong and didn't want to deal with interviewing with me because I was the last one they talked to and it was the end of the day? I've heard that women know within minutes whether or not the guy has a chance and maybe it's same thing with job interviews.

Or, did they all notice that due to various reasons, I spent most of the day sweating my ass off and everything I was wearing drenched in sweat? Or I made one verbal slip and might have revealed the one big hole in my resume.

And you know, the amazing thing about the whole thing is that so much is riding on just one phone call. One. Just one simple voice-mail message and my whole life could change.

Ugh.

Graffitti seen at The Toronado

"If it's the most popular pencil, why is it #2?"

Sorry folks, that's all I got tonight. Long day.

Written last monday-

It's Monday and I go into work, so out of it that I need to drink a huge cup of coffee just to reach tired. Get to my computer and reach into my backpack to plug in my CD player. I notice that while I brought the CD player, even some CD's, but I somehow forgot to bring the headphones. That means an entire day at work without music. No Howard Stern, No NPR, no music- just me, the data and the sound of me type, type typing away. There is no way to accurately describe the boredom that I'm about to endure.

Go get some coffee. Pour the pot into my mug but only a few drops come out. The pot is empty. Damnit, the old "leave only a few drops left so somebody else has to make the coffee" trick. Bastards. That's my trick. In the throes of my caffeine addiction, I take it upon myself to make the coffee. Take out the old filter and throw it out, then put in a new folder. I go look for the coffee to put in the coffee maker, but realize that there's no coffee left. Not a bean, not a crumb. I don't know where to go to find the coffee.

I'm kind of stuck. I've already thrown out the filter and replaced it with a new one, so I'm passed the point of no return. If I was to bail now, it would be way too obvious that I had started and bailed. Can't do that. But I don't know where the coffee is and there's nobody I could ask to help me out. The receptionist isn't around and the only one who's nearby is the Women Who Always Wears Shirts Way Too Tight (and they were awfully tight today), but she was on a call. I'm on my own.

I go looking through the cabinets. Every one in the kitchen area. Can't find anything. Don't know where it could be. I do, however, find some International Blend Coffee, Vanilla Flavor. What the hell, it's coffee. It's got caffeine in it and what else matters? So I decide I'm gonna brew up some Vanilla International Blend Coffee.

New problem. It's some funky coffee maker and it's not the usual coffee can, so I don't know the measurements. Don't know how much coffee to add, don't know how much water to add. So I wing it. Add a dash of the Vanilla International Blend Coffee and a whole bit of water. Once it's done, I make a silent prayer that it'll all come out and go back to my desk.

I sit there and type away. Clack, clack, clackity clack. And as I sit there, typing, I get worried that something's gonna happen. I can hear the coffee maker gurgling away, like Poe's Tell-Tale heart, making more noise than usual. I wait for something to explode. Or, even worse, the coffee will come out without causing a mess, but the coffee will be so bad that there'll be a progression of people pouring themselves a cup and spitting it out once they taste the awful concoction I made. I can hear the complaining and bitching already. "God, who the hell made this crap," they'll say, "this is the worst tasting coffee I've ever tasted." And I'll have to hear it. Because I don't have headphones, I hear everything. I can't tune everything out and become oblivious to the office around me.

I wait. Five minutes, then ten minutes. Finally, I decide it's about ready and decide to go take a taste for myself. Want to see just how dreadful a brew I made. Besides, if I'm the first one there and it's truly awful, I'll just get rid of it, destroy the evidence. None will be the wiser. I pour myself a cup. It's actually not bad. It's really, really sweet, like a Mocha, kind of, one with tons of sugar in it, but a well brewed mocha. It's not sludgey and it's not too watery. People won't mind would they? They'd be okay that the coffee's not totally black, right? Most of the office is women and women don't particularly like strong coffee, right? I decide to leave it be. Hoping it'll all work out right, I go back to my desk. If I hear anything, I'll just play dumb temp. Nope, it wasn't me. Didn't brew a thing.

Ten minutes later, I get up from my seat again to go to the bathroom. I notice, as I walk by, that the coffee pot is off the coffee maker, it's lid off and lying on the cabinet. Coffee stains are up and down the stem of the coffee maker. Someone was cleaning up the mess I made

Later that day, I hear someone talking to the receptionist. I hear him asking her something, about whether anyone knew who made something, but I can't make out what he was asking about. Even though I can't prove it, I'm pretty sure it was about my coffee. I'm never gonna make coffee there again.

So yesterday I mentioned I loved Reign of Fire. Watching it made me wonder what exactly would happen if the movie became reality. What would happen if say somebody stumbled upon a dragon buried deep and unwittingly unleashes Dragon Apocolypse. Would they kick our butts or would we kick theirs?

Here's what would happen:

-The Left will, at first, try and declare the dragons as an Endangered Species and then protest the killing of them. The Peaceniks will declare that they wouldn't be setting fire to the world if it wasn't for us attacking them, the Environmentalists would worry about the ecological ramifications of wiping out an entire species, and the Animal Rights activists and P.E.T.A will protest the killing of poor, defenseless, fire-breathing dragons. Everyone will agree, however, that defending ourselves against the dragons is really just an excuse for Big Oil to use the Dragon Lairs as a place to drill for oil. In speeches, they'll all say that it's really our fault anyways for being such a patriarchal, consumerist, hierarchical system. There will be teach-in's in Berkeley discussing how the dragon attacks will affect Mumia.

-The Right will immediately call for blowing them all up, so what if they wind up blowing up more people than the dragons do. They will also call for a Missle Defense system to defend against the dragons and select major Republican campaign donors, as well as Halliburton, to build it. President Bush will declare the dragons "evil-doers" and then declare war on Iraq. Meanwhile, Vice-President Cheney goes in seclusion once again- fueling rumors that he's been either eaten or had a heart attack- when he's secretly in a bunker somewhere in the West trying to get Haliburton the contracts for digging oil in the dragon lairs. John Ashcroft freaks out that the Apocalypse is actually happening and is caught having a three-way in a Nevada brothel. Bill O'Reilly, Anne Coulter and William Bennett will appear on every news show shouting that the dragon attacks are all the fault of the liberal elites and tree-hugging hippies. That and Bill Clinton.

-Jerry Falwell will say it's all wrath of God type stuff for being tolerant to gay people

-France will blame America and quickly surrender.

-The Palestinians will blame Israel

-Israel will blame the Palestinians

-Baseball will go on strike

-The 24-hour news channels will intermittently interrupt broadcasts of stories involving rich, kidnapped white girls for live footage of burning cities. Geraldo Rivera will become the first big-time reporter to be killed when he's incinerated trying to bust into a Dragon's Lair. Fox News' ratings will sky-rocket when they intentionally use their studio as bait and show live broadcasts of the studio burning down. In response, CNN will add more graphics to their broadcasts. Larry King will interview Liza Minnelli.

-Entertainment Tonight will feature stories about how the stars are dealing with the dragon attacks plus the latest on who J-Lo is dating.

- Ross & Rachel will finally get married, but right before the big episode will be filmed. David Schwimmer will be viciously mauled.

Love this story.

From the LA Times-

Capital Wags-
The whimsical donkeys and elephants all over Washington has some people butting heads over art and politics

Apparently, D.C. has this thing going were local artists are either painting or making sculptures of Elephants and Donkey's. Part of a local art, community type thing. The Times says:

"Decorated as everything from Elvis Presley to a tourist donning an FBI baseball cap and sporting a video camera, the animals are providing a touch of whimsy to a city shadowed by terrorism. Painted by local artists and pop artists these 800-pound sculptures of polyurethane resin depicting Republicans (elephants) and Democrats (donkeys) are bringing smiles--and a few rolled eyes--to residents and visitors alike."

The idea came from other cities, like Miami, New Orleans and LA and was widely popular in both the cities that had them earlier and in D.C.

But wait…..

First, the Green Party started bitching because they're not represented. Naturally, they sued. "Party officials wanted the D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities to decorate the streets with 100 sunflowers--their party emblem." A judge told them to fuggedaboutit and ruled that the animals aren't political speech, but art.

But then P.E.T.A got into the act. They wanted an elephant to be shown to be depicted as Elephant would in the Circus. They wanted to show a "shackled circus elephant with a tear running down its face and a bull hook in its side. Hiring New Yorker magazine artist Harry Bliss, PETA designed an elephant to represent the "miserable, deprived, and broken animals used in circuses ... forced to perform uncomfortable, confusing, and often painful acts over and over again under the threat of thrashings with a bull hook."


The committee rejected it for the obvious reason that nobody wants to see something like that, so P.E.T.A, of course, sued. Obvious case of "'discrimination based on message'," said Arthur Spitzer, the ACLU lawyer handling the case for PETA. Public art, he said, "'is not a forum for just happy speech'." Right.


So, as a result, there's one elephant left that hasn't been painted, waiting for a judge's ruling whether "P.E.T.A has a constitutional right to use the beast for a message about mistreatment of circus animals."

Good to see there's another city as screwed up as San Francisco.

Saw "Reign of Fire" today. We here at Hooray for Anything give the movie four "fuck yeahs." All I can say about it is, fuck yeah.

Anyways, last weekend, Road to Perdition opened up. It stars Paul Newman and Tom Hanks and was done by the same guy who did American Beauty. It's mainly gotten great reviews and my mother called to say that she thought it was a great movie, a "classic" even, and that I should see it. Do I want to see it? Nah.

Don't really know who wants to see it. The word on the street is, well, there is no word on the street. Nobody I know is talking about it. A lot of people have been talking about seeing Bourne Identity and some people are into Eight Legged Freaks or XXX, but not Road to Perdition. Me, I wanted to see some dragon butt-kicking. If my mom knew that I had no interest in seeing Road to Perdition, but was dying to see Reign of Fire she'd be flabbergasted, upset. She'd accuse me of being one of those uncultured, cretinuous mooks who ruined movies by mindleslly plunking down $9 bucks to see stupid FX movies and/or sequels as opposed to serious, great movies.

Am I?

I just have no interest in seeing Road to Perdition. No interest whatsoever. I know it's gonna be a pretty good movie and I'm sure it's really thoughtful, well-done and well acted. There's too many talented, well-intentioned people involved in the movie to not have it be that good. Which is why I don't want to see it. It just reeks of it's own nobility and self-importance, one of those movies that just screams that it's A Very Serious Movie. It's the kind of movie that once the movie starts filming, half the people who work on it are already renting formal wear for the Oscars in anticipation of their nomination. In other words, total Oscar Bait.

Those types of movies just bore me. There's nothing to them other than it being A Very Serious Movie. You know it has to be because it's got Tom Hanks in it in a dramatic role, and he only does Very Serious Movies. Which is why I don't like Tom Hanks that much. Oh, he's a great actor, and from what I hear a great guy and all, I just don't get all super-excited for any movie he's in (and does anyone get really excited for a movie starring one of the big Hollywood stars? Do people really say, "wow, I can't wait to see the next Tom Cruise movie because Tom is awesome!"?). He's your prototypical Hollywood film star- well intentioned, talented and completely vanilla. No edge, no quick, no hint of anything other than being earnest and serious and being a very serious actor.

I do love great movies, though. Really, truly do. I have seen most of the classics and can talk film auteur with anyone. I've seen most of the great Westerns, the best of Hitchcock, even a bunch of silent classics. Hell, I've studied Citizen Kane fer crissakes. Once, when I was younger and more into stuff like that, I got one of those "100 Greatest Movie" lists that come out every once in awhile and checked off all the movies that I've seen. It was more than 50% for sure, closer to around 75%. Then, for like a couple of months, I went out and purposely rented movies that were on the list but I hadn't seen. All of that I did because I considered myself cultured and wanted to get more cultured. And because I love movies. Good movies.

Maybe it's because they're old and don't remember the marketing of them, but all of the old classics- the Hitchcock flicks and Capra flicks and whatnot- never really come off as reeking in self-importance. Even when they are serious, they never came off as self-important, more like just a flick that came together really well. Even when there was a dint self-importance, like On the Waterfront or To Kill a Mockingbird, they never seemed overly self-important. I think it's the whole studio system thing, that at it's heart, they were still movies that were part of some big, huge movie factory. It's not like they were ever put together just for a trailer to go "from the director of Sunset Boulevard and the Producer of To Have and Have Not, Stewart. Kelly……"

Somewhere along the lines, probably after the '70's when film got taken more seriously, serious movies became more serious. Or maybe but more self-important. But while the great '70's flicks were self-important and way arty, they were also a little too edgy. Taxi-Driver, for instance, is a great fucking movie and there's no question Scorcese, DeNiro, et al, thought they were making serious art, but there's also a feeling that they were doing something that they thought was art, not what other people thought was art. Even The Godfather, the Daddy-Mack of movies had too many weird quirks and took too many chances to be considered kind of Oscar-baity. It's over three hours long, all of the characters are mobsters and the main character (Pacino) goes from nice and innocent to evil and cold-hearted by the end of it. Which I'm guessing would never happen in a movie like The Road to Perdition. I'm sure, because of what it is, there'll be some sort of redemption at the end, some sort of happy ending or neat conclusion.

Whatever.

So am I a mook when it comes to movie viewing? I loved Mullholland Drive. . Yeah, self-important, arty, and a bit on the masturbatory side, but definitely not geared towards members of the academy. Not to mention Naomi Watts (mmmm….Naomi Watts). Last weekend, I rented The Royal Tannenbaums. It was quirky, funky, unique, original and managed to be both very funny and very sad all at the same time. I'd rather watch The Royal Tannenbaums over and over again than The Road to Perdition. Because unlike the Hanks' flick, The Royal Tannenbaums wants nothing more than to be a cool-ass flick. And that's what makes a movie good.

Did I mention I loved Reign of Fire?

Interesting Things Overheard at Softball Practice:

"Oh yeah, I got the book in prison. They don't care if you take it."


Speaking of softball practice, I came home from practice today all exhausted and sun-fried. Turned on the TV to recover and stumbled upon a Sorority Life marathon on MTV. Three hours later, I'm totally hooked. Damn MTV and their reality shows. Damn them all to hell.

How could I not like it? It completely confirms all my suspicions of the lameness of sororities- all the stupid rules and rituals, the total cattiness, and the blowing up of completely non-important things into something that's totally, like, oh-my-God.

And the story line they have going is absolutely stupendous. Basically every episode goes like this- one of the interchangeable curly blonde haired pledges goes out partying, gets way too drunk at a club and finds herself backing her bony white ass up with a bunch of random meathead guys (Editor's note- they've mentioned a club that everyone goes to called "The Graduate" and if it's anything like "The Graduate" that was in IV when I was at school-and I think it is- bad, bad things do happen), all in front of other Sorority Sisters who stand in complete disapproval and spend the night cattily whispering back and forth about the shocking behavior of the Pledges. This is followed by a meeting between the poor beleaguered Pledge Coordinators and the blonde party girls (along with their two party-girl pledge partners in crime) in which the Pledge Coordinators tells them that "other Sisters" have been talking and complaining about the "shocking" behavior of the group. The Pledge Coordinators then goes on to tell them that by their behavior they are sullying the image of the Sorority and not representing. Further shocking behavior could lead them to the most horrible of results- not being asked to join the Sorority.

Besides the obvious fact that it's so completely obvious that the four girls who are always in trouble should just go tell everyone to go fuck themselves, there's the silliness of the whole thing. All the Sister's are constantly worried about how the behavior of the girls could sully the image and reputation of the Sorority but I gotta wonder this- what image and reputation? Do sorority's have reputations? Granted, I was defiantly a GDI (God-damn Independent) and adamantly anti-Greek, but I always thought the reputations of sororities were pretty much r what the girls are doing- partying and ho'ing around. Remember the old joke, "what's the mating call of a Sorority Sister? 'I'm so drunk'"? If I remember correctly, the reputations of each Sorority were basically along these lines- the super hot blonde sororities, the not as quite super hot blonde sororities, the still hot but not as hot sororities, the we're not nearly hot enough for all the other sororities, and, finally, the we're ugly but us ugly girls should have a sorority too sororities.

All I can say is you go Jordan and get down with your bad-self….

Today I got some spam-mail from a "Floberta Schmutzy."

Again, if you're gonna try and scam me, why do you use such an unbelievable name. Like I'm supposed to think that's a real person. On the other hand, that name is fucking brilliant.

Why oh why do people still persist in wearing Mullets?

Okay, I guess it's excusable if they're a NASCAR fan (and I'm not even gonna go into the whole "neo-hipster Mullet"), but still . But today I saw a perfectly normal person wearing one. Since he walked into the Levi's Building and came complete with expansive belly, beard and short-sleeved buttown-down shirt, I'm guessing he's a Software Engineer or Programmer at Levi's. In other words, not somebody who would be rocking Mullet. Yet he was. And not just any Mullet, but the Grecian Mullet- permed out and curly, like in all those sculptures and frescoes of nubile young Greek boys prancing around, about to work it with Socrates.

Dude, what the hell are you thinking? Did you lose a bet? Do you have friends and if so why don't they say something? Have you given up completely the idea of ever having sex again?

From this week's The Onion:

Horrible Band Obviously Not Listening To Its Influences
SAN DIEGO— Puddle Of Mudd, a dreary nü-metal rock band that cites Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, and Metallica as influences, is obviously not listening to those influences. "Zep, Sabbath, Metallica, Maiden, Aerosmith—growing up, that's what we listened to, and that's what shaped our sound," said lead singer Wes Scantlin, whose mopey, monotone vocals in no way bear the stamp of Robert Plant, Steven Tyler, or his other idols. Scantlin, who made the comments during an interview Monday with Spin reporter Charles Aaron, failed to say which part of Puddle Of Mudd's atrocious new ballad "Drift & Die" resembles "When The Levee Breaks" or "Sweet Emotion."

Speaking of which, Live 105 has a new show on Monday's where the DJ brings in some record execs/music critic's and have them play new songs that they recommend to the audience. Then they all sit around and talk about what they think of the song. Pretty cool, right?

Anyways, they got two guys involved with record labels, one from a big label the other a small one. Both of them rave about some new track that they have and plays it, but every song they select is one of those generic, Tiger Beat, Wannabe Blink-182 pop-punk crap bands. Every single one of them. We're talking every song sounds like every song used on a WB promo or in a Freddie Prinze movie. But after each song was played, everyone, including the DJ, was like "wow, that song rocks. I love the energy in that song, it's great!" And I'm listening to all of this and wanna scream at them. I mean it's bad enough that they all wanna sound like Blink-182, a pretty disposable band that occasionally writes a good song, but there's not one hint of originality, not one hint of creativity, not one hint of anything that doesn't smack of major suckage.

I just wanted someone- the DJ, one of the other execs, the music critic (who was a bit of a Britpop snot)- anyone, to just say something like, well, what I said up above.

What's up with the kids today?

So I think my job problems are over. Today I got an e-mail about a job and I'm hella psyched because I think it's perfect. Randall Lakefish for Progressive Choices found my resume on "ZillionResumes" (I guess he didn't have to include the ".com" part since ZillionResumes is such a famous Web site) and e-mailed saying I would be a perfect fit. Among other things, it's "... a management level position. The average hourly wage works out to around $45.00 to $60.00 an hour depending on your level of activity."

Does it get any better than that? Apparently, I'll work on trying to sell "Project 21," which Mr. Lakefish tells me is a "leading reference guide for home-based businesses"

All of my problems have been solved!

You know, if you're gonna try and scam me, you can at least come up with a better name than Randall Lakefish.

And then there's the classics.

I want to go to Mt. Splashmore,
Take me, take me, take me, take me now!
Now! Now! Now! Now! Now!
Mt. Splashmore, take me there right now!

Typing away, running through form after form, when I notice I was in the middle of processing a form for some boy with the first name of Osama.

Poor kid.

There he was, merrily going through life, without a care in the world (go with me here), and then -wham- now he's stuck with a first name that makes Adolf seem as nice and innocent as Joe or Bob.

And all this when he's just about to hit adolesence. Great timing. There is no chance in hell he won't have to hear it at some point. He might as well just put a big, huge target on his chest cause if he makes it through High School without getting his ass kicked at least three times, he should consider himself lucky.

Imagine him too, trying to go on a date. Just imagine his date's reaction when she tells them, "mom, dad, meet my date, Osama."

And then there's the poor parents. They probably spent months and months agonizing over a name, debating names back and forth, until they settled upon what they felt was the best possible name. They were probably really proud of that name too, thinking they had come up with a perfectly fine name, only to find out that they had unwittingly doomed their offspring to a life of misery.

This is a true story…..

My brother was turned down for a job with the FBI. He was turned down for admitting that he smoked pot. Not for being a stoner or being an occasional midnight toker, but for admitting that he smoked just once in the past three years, at a party two years ago. And no, he's not lying about it or exaggerating. He is not a partier and definitely not a pot-smoker. I have friends in college who smoked more dope in a week than my brother has his entire life.

My brother has, however, gotten an undergraduate degree at Stanford, followed by a Doctorate at Yale. Not too shabby. He is also fluent in three or four languages, including Hebrew and a little Russian, and has lived overseas for huge parts of his life. In other words, a pretty bright guy. The kind of guy who would probably be a pretty good person for the FBI to have working for them, what with the whole war on terrorism and world falling apart thing.

But no. Can't hire him. Can't have any dopers working for the FBI.

What are they afraid of? That he'd be easily bribed for information by an Al Queda operative offering him an eighth of kind, Humbold Green? That he'd be at a party and in the middle of a stoner rap, give up some confidential information ("so dude, I was like at work today, and like I saw this like memo that said something like we were gonna invade Iraq in like a month or so. Whoa")? That in a national emergency, he'd have get flashbacks and be unable to move because he was too busy staring at the walls breathing?

The even sillier part is how the FBI found out. He knew they were going to ask the question and he also knew that not only were they gonna give him a drug test, but that they were gonna give him a lie-detector test. He was now faced with one of those ethical dilemna type thingies. To sum up, should he say a little white lie and take a chance with the lie detector test or tell the truth and hope they're cool with it? Considering he only smoked once over the past three years, he told the truth. And lost the job. Which means that if he would of lied to get a job with the FBI, he would have been hired. He was basically disqualified for telling the truth.

But why should he have to lie? We're talking once. Once. We're not talking about admitting to taking acid at Disneyland, or smoking crack with some bitches and ho's. And it's not like the FBI was just taken to the tool-shed for huge intelligence failures. Or that everyone acknowledges that National Security is of utmost importance. Or that it's not like the President of the United States hasn't been busted for driving under the influence or probably horked up eight-balls like Liza at Studio 54 in his younger days.

Pretty fucked. God only knows what would have happened if he admitted to watching some porn. Ashcroft would have arrested his ass before he could say "but it was only Skinemax....."

Another great moment in Job Hunting-

Today or tomorrow is supposed to be the day I hear back from Super-Mondo Corporation about the job I interviewed for. I'm not that hopeful, but the interview went well and I'm at least expecting some sort of call-back. It's not too much to ask, after all. Anyways, checked out the job boards over the weekend and saw that the job got posted.

Now, when you don't get a job, at least you can rationalize it and say "that's alright, they just found somebody better." When the job gets reposted again after the place interviewed people over a two week span, there's no rationalization. Because what the company is basically saying that not only were you not a good fit, but you were such a bad fit that they're gonna go through the hassle of posting the job again and having to wade through a hundred to two hundred resumes.

Some things are just unconscious knowledge:

1)The left side of the escalator is for people who want to walk up the escalators, the right side is for people who don't want to walk up them. This mans that if you're on the left, you should not stand there and gossip with your friend about the what happened the previous weekend, read the latest issue of Cosmo, or stand there in thought mulling over J-Lo's divorce. This means that you are supposed to walk up them.

2)If you are at a lap-pool and you see a lane that has four people in it and another one, one that's at the same speed as the one your looking at, that has two people in it, go to the one with less people in it. Do not get in and make it five people. Do the math, people.

3)If you are doing laps in the lap pool, do not stop 1/4 of the way to the end and use that spot as the place to rest up. Swim, walk, doggy-paddle, drown, whatever. Just do not stand there and look surprised when people keep on bumping into you or giving you looks when you have to stop mid-swim to swim around them.

Sadly, my last Real World as another season has come to it's merciful conclusion and now I have one less thing I have to look forward to during the week. I'm so addicted to MTV reality TV show crack that I've given in and started watching The Road Rules . I didn't mean to, it's just that I started to get into Sarah on the show- the one whose not pretty, athletic, and apparently not hooking up with everyone else and is probably gonna get booted for not being one of the Beautiful People. My kind of person.

Oh, so off topic. Anyways, here's my last Real World bit.


Awhile ago somebody on the Real World boards posted this article from the local Walla Walla newspaper. Tonya is, as we all know, from Walla Walla and this is a story about her appearance on the show.

Walla Walla woman hits big time

"In the beginning, she wondered if she had made the right decision.

When the camera was 2 inches from her face and the microphone's battery pack felt like a tumor hatching out of her back. When a techie in the control room had sovereignty over her bedroom light. When others living in the bubble with her - the lesbian, the Jew, the pastor's son, the recovering alcoholic - had nothing in common with a foster kid from Walla Walla."

The Jew? The Jew? Yes, besides the obvious subtle anti-semitism of it all, it's just so funny for so many reasons. Is that a Real World type- you know the gay male, the angry black male, the ho, and now, the Jew? And they didn't even mention the fact that the pastor's son (Theo) is black or that the recovering alcoholic (Chris) is gay. Which, I guess is either an attempt to be politically correct and not point out someone's minority status (except, for the Jew, of course) or they didn't think that Theo's being black or Chris's being gay isn't that big of a deal, while Cara being Jewish is. Which makes you wonder just how backwater Walla Wall is and whether or not Tonya was surprised Cara didn't have horns coming out of her head.

And it's funny too that while Cara is Jewish, it's not like she was an observant Jew or even made a big deal out of it other than mentioning it on the first night they all met and everyone was trying to figure out what role they were on the show. It's not like they showed her going to Temple over the High Holidays or anything like that. She wasn 't even Jewish enough to pull something as dumb as the all-time classic RW/RR moment when Amaya begged out of a pig-feet bobbing contest because it was against her religion yet didn't understand why it was a big deal that she ate a sausage sandwhich that morning for breakfast.

Somehow it makes me think of the great scene in "Annie Hall," where Woody Allen sat for dinner at the Hall family dinner, the Jew in the Super-Wasp house. As he sat there and got more and more paranoid while being drowned in a sea of Waspdom, he pictures himself as he thinks they see him, a Hassidic Rabbi sitting there with the black hat and pius. Is that how they imagined Tonya saw it, with Cara as some Hasidim woman in wig and dress?

On the other other hand, wouldn't it be kind of fun if they had an Observant Jew on the Real World? They've had an alcoholic lesbian, damnit, why not an Observant Jew. Wouldn't it be great if they had one? And I'm not even talking about a semi-religious one, I'm thinking how great it would be if they got a Hassidic one. Just imagine the beginning, the opening credits, you know, the whole "this is a story of seven people…." And as they introduce the typical group of self-absorbed frat boys, attention starved media whores and wanna-be models, they'd cut to Shmueley in pius and yarmulke?

Just imagine the drama too. You can just see Shmuley there, in confessional, quoting from the Talmud or Maimodes to describe the latest doings of the house. Like "oy, that Kyle can be such a shmuck and oh, those lips on Keri. What a shiksa. But as Rabbi Ben-Nachman said, he who can't decide between the past and future is stuck somewhere in between." Or he'd do what most rabbis do and be the one who comes between people and settle an argument. Like for the traditional fight over dishes, he'd sit there between Aneesa and Cara, nod his head, twirl his beard, and then finally come up with a solution.

Comedy gold, I's tell ya.

And how could I forget this?

Desperation has Jackson crying racism: Because the Man so has Michael Jackson down. And because if there's anyone out there who knows about racism, it's a billionare African-American whose spent the past fifteen years of his life trying to look like a white woman. And who doesn't realize nobody buys his CD's because the only reason why people are interested in him is because he's a walking Freak Show.

Quick Takes on Today's News-

Scandals plunge stocks to new low for year 'Confidence has been completely destroyed' : Looks like W.'s speech really worked.

Speaking of which...

Bush raps loan practice that aided him President's anti-fraud crusade asks companies to halt the sort of stock purchase he made in 1980s

and

Video of Cheney extolling virtues of Arthur Andersen surfaces : How much are you willing to bet there'll be a "terrorist warning" soon.

Two Israeli's fired in boycott of (European) Universities
Okay, so the Web story has a different headline, but this is was the headline in the Chron today. I read a couple of months ago a story about why European's tend to be pro-Palestinian. The article said that one of the reasons is because most Europeans don't know many Jews. The reason, of course, is because they killed most of them. Oh yeah, technically the Germans did, but it's not like most Europeans didn't go to the Nazi's and point the Jews out to them (I'm looking at you France, Poland, Russia and the Vatican).

2 Teams Faced Close Call on Payroll: Typical baseball. The day after it completely embarassed itself at the All-Star game, Selig goes out and drops this load of crap, that two teams were gonna go bankrupt any day now. Brilliant PR move, there, Bud. While everyone is talking about how lame you are, you go and drop some more bad news on everyone. And it's not like anyone believes you because you've cried that wolf a hundred times before. I think the only people who believe Bud are the same people who believe there's value in Ted William's frozen dead body.

By the way, supposedly one of the team's was the Tigers. Didn't they just build some brand new, tax supported stadium?

Finally, a great article by Maureen Dowd on the Smugness of King George. I so love the line that Bush is someone who is "born on third base" but thinks "he hit a triple."

Bush talks like a populist but . . .

Man, living in SF turns you into a huge weather wuss. Three straight days in the 90's and I was going all Wicked Witch of the West. This is kind of twisted, but as I'm looking out my window and seeing a big, huge wall of fog come rumbling down Twin Peaks, I couldn't help but smile

Anyways, here we go Temp Job: Day 2 (and no, this isn't gonna be a daily thing).

After all that stuff I said yesterday about being kind of dicky and anti-social, it happened. One of the most dreaded days a Temp has to face- the Office Birthday Cake Party.

Here's the thing about temping. Yeah, you're in an office with other people, sometimes even nice people, but you're not really part of the office. You're a Temp. Basically some person whose being paid chump change to do remedial work that nobody else who works there would want to do. Plus, you're never really there for that long so it's not really worth that much to be social. When you Temp, you kind of have the attitude that people in the Army have, don't get close to anyone cause you'll never when they might go kaboom.

This makes me not the most shiny, happy social worker. My Temping style falls along the "get in, get out, nobody gets hurt" lines. I like to go in, quickly get my coffee, then hook up to my CD Walkman and type away. No muss, no fuss, no messy small-talk. When it comes down to it, as nice as some of the people there are (and they are really nice) and as tight a shirt as some of them wear, I really don't care if I get to know them. Yeah, I'm a crank, what can I say?

Which brings us to today. It was someone's birthday today, someone who wasn't there the last time I worked there, and everyone was being gathered for some Happy Birthday Singing. Even us temps. Ugh.

Now, believe it or not, I am not an Office Birthday Cake Party Person (unless, of course, it's really yummy birthday cake, like ice cream cake from Ben & Jerry's). I am Elaine on Seinfeld. This is even true for place's where I'm not a Temp. But today, I am a Temp and I'm being told to stop what I'm doing and get ready for a big Birthday/Cake/singing thing.

Since the office is kind of small-ish and my computer is in the center of it, everyone can kind of see what I'm doing. I have a choice to make. I could either do what I'd prefer to do and ignore the whole thing and look like an anti-social jerk, or I could go join everyone else and pretend that I care that it's somebody I've never even walked past in the hallway's birthday.


And people think Temping's easy…..

Man, what a beautiful day outside. It's hot but not too hot and you can see clear cross the bay. On a day like today, there's nothing I can think of that would be a better way to start the day than by biking into work.

Oh wait, my bike was stolen.

May whoever stole my bike get Malachi Crunched by two Land-Rovers while riding it. Bastards.

Here we go sports fans, the moment you've all been waiting for- First Day Temping- Episode Two: Attack of the Clones

Got up before the alarm, totally exhausted and drenched in sweat. Felt sick and broken down, the result of it being too fucking hot lately and insomnia taking my sleep. Haven't averaged more than four hours of sleep in three days and I can't say I'm looking forward at the thought of having to spend all day typing away. Woke up a bit after showering and headed out of the apartment. On my way to work. For the first time since May.

Despite it all, I actually felt kind of good to be going to work. Commuting even.

When you're not working it's like your invisible person- a shadow. You have no job, no place to be or nothing to do and so you're constantly in a state of suspended animation. Your life is pretty much waiting for a job and fending off boredom/insanity. When you've been out for as long as I have, it's even harder. Sometimes I think about that short story I read in like Elementary School, about the kid who never left his bedroom and slowly, bit by bit, had the real world fade away from him.

Last night, I took a walk around 7. It was the first time I had really gotten out of my place all day and as I watched all the hustle and bustle of the Mission at that time, I felt really weird. Like there's this whole world going on around me- people meeting other people at bars, people going out to dinner, exercising- and I had forgotten about all about it. I had the same feeling this morning- that I had forgotten what it was like to actually have a place to go, to be part of the crowd. Yeah, it's only for a Temp Assignment, but for awhile, I could play worker bee. I was one of them.

There are benefits of working at a place you've temped before. Already had done the dress up for a good first impression thing, so I didn't have to worry about getting all gussied up. I also knew that the boss always came in late, so I knew I could be late. Knew where to go and where the closest deli's were. And when I got there, I didn't have to do the usual first day on a Temp job schpiel. No being sent around the office being shown where everything is and being introduced to everyone ("hi, this is our new unemployed loser who can't find a job and he's gonna be temping with us at the dreary job we can't get anyone else to do."). Also didn't have to spend half the morning reading through instructional manual after instruction manual on the Meaning of It All and the proper method of entering data when I knew I already knew how to do it.

Then there's the bad side of working at a place where I've already worked at. The whole Deja Vuness of it all. Everything was the same. Same people, same job, same set up. Some people had gotten new hair-cuts, the Chippies had been moved to the back of the office, the Receptionist/Office Manager had lost a lot of weight and the Blonde who always wore her shirt way too tight had gained a few more pounds and wasn't wearing a shirt way too tight. Other than that, it was all the same. Like I never left. Like the past four months never happened. Or like I had escaped, only to be brought back. I'm Steve McQueen in "The Great Escape" once again, being thrown my glove and baseball as I go back to Solitary Confinement. It was such deja vu that my computer station was two computers down from where it was before and whenever I went back to my computer, I started off going to my old one, then had to remind myself I'm not there. It was so bad I got flustered in the morning because while my favorite coffee mug was there, my favorite drinking glass was gone. And I never even had to worry about if people recognized me because right off the bat, the Receptionist/Office Manager saw me coming up the stairs and greeted me with a "howdy stranger." Not to mention the only Temp who I was friendly with saw me and said "hey, so you came back."

Then there's other things I remembered too. The dreariness of typing the same stuff minute after minute, hour after hour. The totally exhausting struggle to make it from one hour to another hour and the constant struggle not to just get up and go spend an hour online or taking a walk. And the weirdness of working at a place you're not quite working at, yet being there day after day, not wanting to really be that social but also feeling kind of left out when people were being social.

That's another thing about temping, the whole socializing aspect. Take the receptionist for instance. Her saying hi to me made me feel better, eased my anxiety about walking back into the place. Yet, I also felt guilty because the last time I worked there, she was really nice to me and would talk to me in the kitchen or outside when she was taking a smoke break and I was out taking my twelfth walk of the day. But because I was temping there and knew I was gonna be out of there soon, I was kind of dicky to her. Not because I didn't like her (I mean like her, not like like her), but simply because I didn't really see the point in it.

Oh wait, I'm rambling. Plus this whole piece is neither funny, snarky, poignant or any good. I'm basically feeling feeling like crud right now. Need to find a nice, cool place and sleep this all off. Or a nice beach and pitchers full of margaritas. Lots of margarita's.

Sorry this is in late in coming, but I've been spending all day prepping for the ESPY awards. I know your excited.

Remember what I said about this season of baseball having that Arch-Duke Ferdinand going to Sarajevo feeling? Think the Arch-Duke just got shot.

After reading all the hoopla about it, all I have to say is crikey, that was a debacle. The only thing that would of made it an even bigger one is if they would have wheeled out the cyrogenically frozen body of Ted Williams (and I'm sure if MasterCard was willing to sponsor it, they would have). There is, however, some beauty to it all going down in Bud's All-Star game, the one he set up because he's the Commissioner and he's from there and he kind of owns it and his fellow Wisconsin tax-payers helped foot the bill for it. And he sucks. Still, it's gotta be bad when even the Commissioner of the MLS is going "geez, Thank God, I'm not that guy."

So, I'm sure you're all wondering what would I do to fix the Mid-Summer Classic-baseball loving, super-genius that I am. Easy, let the stars play and keep them in.

The NL starting outfield last night was Bonds, Sosa, and Guerrero- two definite Hall of Famers and somebody who could someday be right up there. That's who the fans want to see and you can't argue that they're not the best representatives. So, keep them in for at least five or six innings. That's what an All-Star game is about, seeing the stars and that's what we, the humble paying baseball fan wants to see in our (that's right, our) All-Star game. Who really wants to see a bunch of guys from the Marlins? I'm pretty sure even the people in Miami don't really care if they play or not.

If that doesn't work out, like say the Union is upset or the stars get all hissy about it (not that a baseball star would ever, ever get hissy about something), then keep all the guys from the lame teams til late in the game.

The big concern was the pitchers and not injuring them. Torre has a valid reason why he shouldn't overuse Garcia because the Mariners are a great team and in the middle of a Pennant Race. Overusing him could be bad for the Mariners. On the other hand, Jose Padilla is playing for the Phils. The Phils suck so what difference does it make if Padilla pitches till his arm drops.

Failing that, as I said before, penalty kicks.

A tie? A tie? That's it, a tie? At the All-Star game?

Man, baseball can't buy a break this year.

If baseball was a person, they'd be someone who was unemployed and broke and then found themself not only just dumped, but their bike stolen.

Two words: Penalty kicks.

Was gonna take some time out of my busy day and talk about the current news. Lot of fun stuff in the papers today- the Smugness of King George(I watched his press conference yesterday- God what an arrogant bastard), the Archduke Ferdinand about to go to Sarajevo feel of tonight's All-Star game (not talking about it), some stupid Israeli's doing stupid things(ugh), and even a great story about how swinging's going upscale (ba-bow!).

But not today. Instead, I think Laurel Wellman's column in today's Chron sums up how I feel about things-

"….almost anything would tax my tiny attention span right now. Reign of Fire opens Friday and, having been in a state of near- hysterical anticipation for several weeks already, I fear these final few days may be almost more than I can bear. Look, we're this close to seeing a flying- dragon-versus-helicopter-gunship battle, so just leave me alone, OK?"

Yeah I'm Temping,
Temping again

More data entry and my mad typing skills. It's where I worked before and didn't mind working at, so I'm kind of okay with going back there. It's the place that does data processing for medicare cases, the one with all the young chippies- all naïve and innocent as they start there way up the career ladder, never considering the possibility that their life might somehow take a strange turn somewhere and they'll wind up thirty-four and temping. And the place with the blonde with the way too tight shirts and really big…

Oh wait, back on subject.

As far as temp jobs go, it's not a bad place to work as it's got all the important things to help pass the temp job away:

1) It's easy and brainless. Maybe too easy and brainless.
2) Lots of free coffee and tea
3) Available phone and computer to check messages
4) Scenery
5) And most importantly, a boss who either doesn't care or doesn't know that I occasionally take more than a half hour lunch, more and longer breaks than I'm supposed to, leave early and come in late, and spend enough time on the computer to read ESPN.com section through section. Not to mention the NY Times.

I'm also kind of glad I'll be temping so when I quit in a month, I'll go back to being really, really happy I'm not working. Sometimes, it's easy to take not doing anything all day for granted. And right now I'm basing my day around a TV show (Pardon the Interruption) and it's never a good sign when you base your entire day around a TV show. Nights, however.

On the other hand, it does mean I'll have to do the always fun Walk of Shame back into the place. Nothing like the love of life you feel when going back to a job that you had already left, vowing silently never to return, and leaving them with the vague "oh, I'm working on a few things" (which was true), only to be walking through those doors four months later.


Woo to the fucking hoo?

Last night they showed one of my fave Seinfeld episodes, the one where George figures out that he can not only get away with not doing any work but be left alone if he constantly walks around looking stressed out. It's brilliant 'cause it's true.

Way back when, when I was working at that lame-ass dot.com that will remain nameless (speaking of which, hi Jessica and thanks for reading!), there was a guy there who was supposedly in charge of "business opportunities" for our no- way-in-hell-will-we-get-business-opportunities-department. Besides come up with ideas himself, he was supposed to take ideas from us, the people in the department, and then help us put it together. Supposedly.

As far as anybody could tell, he never actually did anything he was supposed to do. He never responded to our proposals, never made any deals, never did a damn thing. Instead, he just ran around the office all day, cell phone glued to his ear, barking something out to someone on the other line. Even better, on the times he did actually respond to a proposal, he never actually was able to work on it because he was constantly "too busy" to schedule a meeting. I once saw him walk over to my pod-mates desk, ask where she was because they had a 10:00 meeting and when told that she had gone to the bathroom for just a second, he just shook his head and said, "damnit, I just don't have time to wait. We’ll just have to reschedule." With that, he turned and walked away.

Despite the fact he never actually accomplished anything, despite the fact he never made the company any money, and despite the fact that everyone in the department- or at least the underlings- made jokes behind his back about how useless he was, Management loved him. Thought he was great.

I'm completely positive it was because he was pulling a Costanza. It's not like he was doing anything- in fact somebody told me that he was usually on the phone with realtors trying to buy a house- it looked like he was doing something. All he was doing by running around- cell phone in hand, with that look of extreme pain on his face- was just him working it. And worked it he did. Didn't get laid off, bought a house, and eventually got another, better paying job somewhere else.

And people wonder why the dot.com bubble burst?

Watched The Shipping News over the weekend. It was actually recommended to me by my head-shrink who saw a similarity between the somnambultistic Kevin Spacey character and my currentsomnambulistic state. And while it is a beautiful movie and makes me want to go hang out in some beautiful, remote village (prefer Ireland, though to Canada- no offense to whatever Canucks maybe reading this), I'm not quite sure what message I was supposed to get out of it.

As usual, the whole theme of the movie is that a guy finds redemption through love. Which, first of all, isn't exactly the kind of message you like to hear when you're single (does anyone in a movie who is in a bad way ever find redemption when they're single? Other than through a kindly but wise African-American character usually played by Morgan Freeman or Will Smith?). Also, it's easy to find redemption through love when the person you fall in love with is Julianna Moore.

It reminded me, in a way, of one of my least favorite movies of all time, As Good as It Gets, another movie in which people find redemption through love. I hated it and when I saw it but when my mother dismissed my disgust at the movie with the usual line "oh, you just aren't a romantic." No mom, that's not it. While I do believe that it is possible that a cranky, asocial, manic-obsessive freak would actually find love, I just don't believe it would be with someone who looks like Helen Hunt.

A couple of weeks ago, the Chron asked for their reader's input about what makes them cry. I would link it, but it wasn't very exciting and kind of dumb. In response, the "Dog Bites" column in the SF Weekly, a column which has kind of sucked since since Laurel Wellman left, actually ran a pretty funny column in which they listed things that they hear that makes them cry.

In spirit of that column, here is my List of Things That Upon Hearing, Make Me Cry"

"Starring Academy Award Winner Nicholas Cage."
"The Yankees today traded for….."
"Attorney General John Ashcroft."
"And now, here's George Will's commentary."
"Coming up after the break, Commissioner Bud Selig on the current state of baseball."
"Tonight's episode of Angel will not be shown so we may bring you a very special two-hour episode of 7th Heaven."
"On tonight's Behind the Music, the Shania Twain story."
"Catch a glimpse of the new Britney Spears Pepsi commercial, tonight on….."
"And now for a Boneyard block of Yes!"
"Free Mumia!"
as the phone's being handed to me.... "It's your mother….."
"You're one of the coolest, nicest guys I ever met, but….."
"Yesterday, Al Gore gave another speech indicating he might run for President in 2004."
"Tonight, a special NBC Dateline report that no parent should miss."
"The FBI today announced warnings of a possible terrorist threat…."
"…looks like they're gonna intentionally walk Barry Bonds."

Okay, I admit it. I rented Not Another Teen Movie. What can I say? Even laughed a few times.

I didn't mean to. I swear, I wanted to rent something else, something better. I wanted to rent The Bad News Bears. For some reason, I had a craving to see it. It's a great movie (a classic even) and I haven't seen it in years. But when I went to the video place, not only was it rented, but so was The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training. The only Bad News Bears movie there was The Bad News Bears Go To Japan and there was no way in hell I was gonna rent that. So I rented what I did.

I hate when that happens. I mean, what are the chances that the night I had a strange craving to see The Bad News Bears, some movie over fifteen years old, somebody had the same craving and rented it too? And the not nearly as good sequel too.

Dang nabbit.

Anyways, a few more quick things-
1)Noticed CNN Headline News is now occasionally going to commercial by having some band/artist play live. Man, has CNN sunk low. And how stoked would you be if you were some artist and your management couldn't get you on MTV or VH-1, but got you a fifteen second outro as CNN Headline News goes to fade.

2)Whatever happened to DJ Jazzy Jeff? Do you think he's a little bitter that his partner is now like one of the hugest stars in the world? Do you think he keeps on calling up Will Smith and begging for work? Do you think Will Smith has his security guards kick DJ Jazzy Jeff out everytime he shows up near Will's out?

Larry King finally did it. After spending weeks sitting in his studio talking about the Elizabeth Smart case, he finally got his crinkly, multipley bypassed heart out to Utah to interview the few remaining members of the Smart family who haven't been interviewed by Ashleigh Banfield. She's there too. Remember her? Climbing to fame by being one of the first people on the scene of Ground Zero, dyeing her hair black and wearing scarves in an effort to fit in while reporting from Pakistan, then interviewing grieving Palestinians and Israeli's after every traumatic event, she was getting some cred by going from hot-spot to hot-spot. She's now in Utah too, covering the Elizabeth Smart thang. Guess with all that's going on in the world- encroaching invasion of Iraq, collapse of the American corporate system, the President and Vice-President being caught with the cookie from the cookie jar- the most important place to be is Utah. To follow the kidnapping of some blonde, rich white girl.

You know how much I care about the Smart case? Nothing. Nada. Couldn't give a shit.

Yeah, I feel bad for her and her family and yeah, it's a shame, but I just don't care. Didn't know her. Don't know her family. Don't know anyone who knew her. And whatever happened and will happen to her will have absolutely no impact on my life. Not one thing.

Know something too? Unless you know her, her family, or people who know them, her kidnapping doesn't mean anything to you either. Doesn't affect your life one bit either. Oh, you might feel more paranoid about things and think that would could happen to her might happen to you or your kids, but there's a really serious chances that it won't. Great chance it won't happen. In fact, statistically, most child abductions are done by people who know the child.

Yet, once again, the media is all in a froth on a story about a kidnapped girl. And yes, another white, rich girl (as opposed to say, a poor hispanic one). Because the media oh so loves a story about a kidnapped rich, white girl. And isn't it great timing that this happened too? The Jon Benet's story is way old and the Chandra Levy cases has probably run it's course, or will until they figure out what happened, so that left the press with nothing. Just boring stories about corporate crime, been there done it stories about the crisis in the Middle East, and way too boring science items about global warming. Booring. So bring on the kidnapped rich, white girl.

Remember after 9/11, we all sat around and talked about how we were about to go through a great awakening? How we were suddenly going to learn about things in the world and how the press would no longer get caught up in insignificant, overly sensationalized stories? How everyone pointed to the Chandra Levy thing as the absolute nadir of what was wrong with the media?

Guess not.

Lying in bed reading and got this sudden urge to turn on the TV. Don't know why, but just get that feeling. So I turn it on for a sec, just in time to catch the latest Breaking News off of CNN.

Goodbye Teddy Ballgame.

It's such a shame that the people running baseball are doing such a good job fucking-up something you helped make so great.

Lately, there's been a lot of ads in the Chron sports pages for movies on the Playboy Channel. Makes sense, guys read the sports pages and guys like watching porn. The movies are the usual soft-core kind of stuff, starring actors named Steven St. Crois, Nici Sterling, or Dasha Gwen Summers, but the thing that always gets me is that in the left-hand corner of the ad, there's this headline "Director's Cut."

And I'm, of course, wondering, just what is the Director's Cut for one of these movies and is it that big of a deal. Have people only seen the cut, original one and now might be excited to see the Director's Cut? Is it like the Director's Cut of "Blade Runner" or "Apocalypse Now" where the director had a huge vision that got cut for commercial reasons and they're re-releasing it as a "Director's Cut" so they can finally show their full vision? Like the Director of "Wife Taker, Part 1" originally envisioned a three-hour epic, based on the all the collected works of Mila Kundera, and felt that the original version aired on the Playboy channel short-changed his vision? Will we get a fuller examination of the human condition by watching the Directors Cut or just more lesbian action?

And yes, this is all just an attempt to get more people to read the blog because most people who check it out are looking for porn. And no, I do not have any naked pictures of Anna Kournikovia.