Some people have their Kumbaya moments at a political rally. Other folks have their Kumbaya moments while mountain biking. And other people have their Kumbaya moments, well, singing Kumbaya somewhere in the woods. Me, I get my Kumbaya moment waving my orange rally hanky to the strains of "Hell's Bells" as the Giants take the field for Game 1 of the Division Series. Yee-ha.

I actually had some trepidation about going today only because of what happened last year, when everytime I went they lost and all the games I didn't go to were epic, Giants victories. If I went, I thought I'd probably just jinx the Giants. Then I realized that my friend who invited me was one of those people who went to all the epic games and other friends who went to all the epic games were going too, so just maybe, maybe, they're luck would overwhelm my luck. Looks like it did. It's the first time I've been to a playoff game in which the home team won since seeing a Phils playoff game way back in the mid-to-late 70's at the Vet (R.I.P). And even then the Phillies lost most of the time I went.

Man, watching your team win is so much more fun than watching them lose.

Few more things….

PS- Can we please stop it with the "God Bless America" during the 7th inning stretch? Please? We already do the National Anthem and it's been over two years since 9/11. Between those two songs, the jet planes flying over the field, and the American flag on all the uniforms, it's just a tad too much on the overkill side. Especially when you consider half the people playing are all from elsewhere. And talk about buzz kills. Everyone's ready to do some stretching and some Take- Me-Out-to-the-Ballgameing but instead we have take off our hats and listen to some opera singer go all Mariah Carey on a patriotic song.

PPS- Barry Bonds is 39 years old, has a beaten up body, and won't get pitched too. So he stole a base today. He is the daddy-mack of daddy-mack's.

So I see Naomi Watts has finally dumped her boyfriend, Heath Ledger, meaning she's single again. Naomi, baby, call me. Yeah, I know I may not be a semi-talented, hunkish Aussie, but I have a blog.

I was supposed to hear back from that job, the one I was supposedly "#1 in the running for," "early next week." I guess it being late Tuesday night, it's now no longer officially "early next week" but "mid-next week."

Ruh-oh.

A couple of weeks ago I went to the big SF Mayoral Debate. I was going to post it, but besides being way long, I figured that not many people would be interested. Anyways, I finally finished it up and put it on the Web site. Good thing I finished it with only a week or two left until the actual election. Anyways, for those who care, you can read my observations of the Mayoral Debate here. Definately one of those Only in San Francisco type things. After all, how many other cities would their be booing over the idea of cleaning up the neighborhood playgrounds by arresting the drug dealers who hang out there?

Now that I have Hotmail again, I can once again see what interesting and exciting stories that MSN is plugging. Let's see, there's "Mandy Moore's Strategy", a scintillating interview in which the 18 year old (I think) super-rich pop star let's us know "How She Deals with Life" (tell me, Oh Mandy, tell me!). Not exciting enough? How's this one: "Top Signs You're A Jerk at the Gym". This one MSN deems so important it gets the highly valued "Spotlight" header next to it. Not topical enough for you? How about this one: "Try a New Fall Desert" or this one : "The World's Best Shower".

There is, however, nothing about that whole wacky possible scandal in which the guy who told the press that the Administration was warned there was no "yellow cake" thingy had his wife outed as a CIA agent by someone in the White House.

Or, considering that in a little over the week there's a good chance the two words Governor and Schwarzenaggar will be used in the same phrase, nothing that pretty much up what needs to be summed up. Like, "California, What the Hell Are they Thinking?" or the more to the point, "What Are You Freakin' Nuts?" Or how about this one "Despite Movie Images, Studies Show that Most Actors Are Not What They Appear to Be in the Movies."

Actually, in light of all the craziness that has gone on over the past couple of years and with there now being an outside chance we're about to have a Cubs/Red Sox World Series, a more appropriate headline would be something like this "What the Hell is Going On? Are Dogs and Cats Living Together Next?"

PS- the trailer for "Return of the King?"

Oh yeah, baby, oh yeah.

My Hotmail account is down. I've been only able to get onto it twice so far this morning, after much loading and reloading of the page but that's it. I breathlessly click on it, hoping to finally break through, hoping to finally see what I'm missing. Could it be about a job? Something from a friend? What juicy details are hidden behind my hotmail account?

But why should I even care that much? Just how many times does your e-mail go down and you actually get something important? It's usually just spam, spam, spam, eggs and spam, and eggs, bacon and spam.

And so, I give up checking my e-mail, knowing that there's probably nothing there of much importance anyways.

Then the phone rings. It's a friend wondering where I've been and whether she got my e-mail or not. She's got extra tickets to tomorrow's Giants game and sent me an e-mail asking me whether or not I was in. Which means, for once, I actually did get an important e-mail of which I couldn't get to.

But who fricking cares about the irony of it all, or the twist ending, or pretty much anything else- I'M GOING TO GAME 1 OF THE PLAYOFFS TOMORROW!

Between that, the "Angel" premiere on Wednesday (yay, Harmony's back!), and the unveiling of the "Return of the King" trailer online, this might actually be a good week.

Might be.

Go Giants!

Ahh, San Francisco- years ago I went to Israel on a Mission type thingy. It was basically to go have a lot of fun, travel and to try and meet Jewish women. Tonight I'm at a dinner party and meet a Jewish woman who also went to Israel on a Mission type thingy. Her's was to basically gain a better understanding of the plight of the Palestinians, take a bunch of photos and interviews, then give a lecture on what she learned.

Me- booze cruise on the Sea of Galilee
Her- spent the night in a house in Gaza trying to relate to the experiences of the Palestinians.

Is it me, or is this a no-brainer on which is more of a fun thing to do?

I think I figured out how I got myself sick. See, when I bailed on my softball game last week mainly because it was too early in the morning, I sent out a huge apology and said that I couldn't get make it because I was sick. This weekend rolls by, I have a softball game, and I get sick.

Instant Karma once again comes to get me and bite me on the ass.

I saw "Underworld" last night. Cool flick, maybe the best Vampire vs. Werewolf movie since "Abbot and Costello Meet the Werewolf." I do have to say, though, that the Vampires and the Werewolves were a bit on the wussy side. You're vampire's, damnit, act like vampires- bite things. What's up with this shooting werewolve's with guns?

And another thing. Why is that vampire's always wear cool clothes, live in vaguely European looking cities, and listen to cool-ass techno music? Are there any Vampire's out there who dress in jeans and a t-shirts? Are there any white-trash Vampires living in Houston listening to, like, Shania Twain? Do any not look like models? Are there fat vampires? After watching all those movies, I can't but think that it would be kind of cool to be a Vampire- living forever in someplace like Plague all dressed up in expensive clothing and hanging out with hot Vampire babes. Who wouldn't want to do that?

Of course, I'd probably spend all my nights watching TV, still wear t-shirts and jeans, and get dissed by all the hot Vampire babes, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about getting job.

I think I'm coming down with a cold. Which is really great because I need even more reasons not to get out of bed. The pisser about it is that I can't figure out how the hell I'm able to come down with a cold. I'm not working, I hardly ever leave the apartment, and all I do is lie around. How the hell is it possible for me to come down with a cold?

Oh yeah, l'shanah tovah.

I interviewed for a job a couple of weeks. The interview went really well, really well, and the job seems almost too good to be true. It's at a place not quite as exciting as the last place, but without the mass craziness or psycho people. In fact, in light of my previous two jobs, it sounds almost like a God-send.

I was supposed to hear back from the job early this week, but didn't, something which sent me into a two day tizzy. I finally reached the HR person to find out what was up, totally bracing myself for the bad news, and was told that that while they're still interviewing at least two more people, I'm at the top of the list of people they want to hire. So, basically, the job sounds like it's mine unless one of the two people they interview the rest of this week does a better job in the interview than I did.

I'm not exactly sure if it's a good thing I know all this. One the one hand, it totally puts my mind at ease. In fact, it's taken a lot of the edge off knowing that something is definitely out there. On the other hand, if it turns out I don't get the job, knowing how close I was is going to make it that much worse if I don't get it. We're talking up 5-0 entering the 7th inning of Game 6 only to lose the game and series worse. We're talking Ernest Byner fumbling on the 2-yard line in the waning moments of the AFC Championship worse.

All I can say is that those two people they're interviewing better suck.

You watch TV over and over again, hours at end. You flip through the channels hoping for that one moment, that one time when all your TV hours are rewarded, wondering if it will ever come. And just as you start questioning your existence, it comes, that moment- a young Mathew Perry on "Beverly Hills 90210" playing a rich kid about to blow himself away until Brandon talks him out of it.

I feel so much better about things now.

PS- I'm starting to see these ads for Butter whipped in yogurt. In fact, the entire ad goes something like this- "it's butter, but with yogurt!" And I'm thinking to myself, besides ick, why? Are there people out there who actually think, "you know, I really like butter, but you know the one thing that's missing? Yogurt!" Is this the dumbest thing advertised on TV since Clear Pepsi?

I finally did it. After throwing God knows how many things at the TV over the months while watching all those stupid-ass news shows on MSFOXNN, knowing the full while that it's not something that I should be doing in my current cranky-ass state, I finally broke my TV. I got one of those TV/VCR combo deals and after launching my stress ball at Chris "Hardball" Mathews discuss today's Democratic Debate, I smashed the lid where I put the tape in.

Ironically, it wasn't after Chris went into another one of his patented Hillary Conspiracy Theories (he's so obsessed with her I think he probably whacks off to speeches of hers'). Nor was it after Chris attacked Gen. Clarke for not saying anything specific during the debate despite the fact he praised Arnie's performance last night even though Arnie didn't do anything but say preplanned one-liners. Nope, it flew when he said how stupid it was that the Democrat's want to go after Bush's tax plan. As if a huge deficit, $87 Billion going to Iraq, nor decimated social services isn't enough of a reason too.

Needless to say, despite the trashed lid, my stress ball was doing a lot of flying.

I gotta stop doing this. I think I need to do what most bored, unemployed people do all day. Instead of watching the news shows, I should probably just watch more porn.

Is it a bad sign that I shower now more out of boredom than any desire to take a shower? And I only take one when I can't think of anything else to do? Like after waking up, Watching BH 9'er re-runs (or not- there's no way in hell I'm going to sit through an hour of Brenda thinking she's got breast cancer), reading the paper, checking the job boards, and surfing the Web, when I finally get to the point where I go "well, what should I do now?" that's when I shower.

That's not sad and pathetic, is it?

So I started to watch the big California debate today, but started to get a headache after a few minutes and turned to the Phillies/Marlins game. I love Arianna, but damn, that girl can get annoying. As usual, in watching the post-debate spin, it looks like Arnie's getting the Bush Bell Curve Treatment- the "wow he did great" comment based mainly on the fact he was able to speak in coherent sentences without drooling. Can he please stop with the "Terminator" jokes, though? It's worth voting against him just so we don't have to put up with four years of "Terminator" jokes.

Oh yeah, somebody on CNN pointed this out- while everyone's talking about the McClintock/Arnie problem and how one is taking votes away from the other, the same thing is happening on the other side. The polls are close enough that it looks like it's completely possible that the Green party is going to do it again, making the rest of us have to suffer through a bonehead Republican Government because those twits are too stupid to realize what they're doing. I say, if Arnie wins because of the stupid Greens, us Democrats get to make all the Greens who voted that way run the Gauntlet. You know, have us Democrats line up in a row and have one of the patchouli reeking hippies crawl underneath us while we smack the shit out of them.

That should teach them a lesson.

Unlike previous mornings, I actually want to take a shower this morning. The problem is that the Apartment Handyman is coming by sometime today to spray all the apartments for bugs and I don't know when. Obviously, this means I can't take a shower because the moment I hop in it, he'll come-on by, unlock the front door and spray away.

This would be bad.

Alright, here's a little experiment that I've always tried to do. One of the original ideas behind this here blog/Web site was to occasionally send out a newsletter type thingy. Like an essay or something. As I got one ready to go, I thought I'd give it a whirl and see if there's anyone who'd actually like to read it. Even those people who are only coming to this site because they think I have the goods on Jen & Ben or naked pictures of the "Real Worlds'" Trishelle.

So, if you want to get the occasional essay, e-mail me at hoorayforanything@yahoo.com

First one up is the Hooray for Anything Guide to Fall Movies

This is one of those things I think about….

Wouldn't it be cool to be President just so you can order someone to get you all the files on every major conspiracy out there? You know, like it's a rainy Sunday afternoon and there's nothing going on so you call out to the head of the FBI and tell him you want to see every file about the JFK assassination. You could, you know, as President, because damnit, you're the President. You could even threaten people's jobs if they don't get you the files or send them to Guantanomo. Or you could one day check out all the UFO files, maybe call in all the old Air Force guys and force them to tell you about Area 51.

I'm not saying you should then go ahead and announce to the world what you found in those files, I'm just saying it would be fun to know just for the hell of it. On the other hand, you could totally make the FBI your bitch by threatening to let go all of their little secrets.

Today I'm at a café trying order something to drink. There's a hold up in line and after a few minutes I decide to try and figure out just what the hell is going on. So I eavesdrop. The problem is that the customer tried to order something that I guess is even more organic, more politically correct, than soy milk and now there's a huge conversation going about it's politically correct organicness versus that of soy milk.

And all I wanted was a coffee.

Sometimes this city annoys the hell out of me.

Is it only me, but whenever I read a story about the recall and read a quote by Arnie, I can't but help do it in my head like I'd envision him saying it. He could be saying something like "I'd like to lower the fidicuiry tax on SB-149 to a 3% deductible for people whose combined incomes are under $40,000 and can't afford healthcare" and it'll still sound like he's saying "I'll be back."

Maybe that's one of the reasons why people are going to vote for him. They keep on saying he's the strong leader type. Considering there's no proof of that except for in his movies, I can't help but wonder if people only say that because he speaks with a German accent. If, for example, he had an Irish accent or Mexican accent, would people be so quick to say he's going to be a strong leader? After all, there's nothing more strong-leaderish, follow-me-while-I-march-in-to-Poland like a German accent.

I love when you get an Evite for a totally bitching party and when you check it out to see just which friend thought of inviting you to this totally bitching party, you realize that you have no idea who the person is. Not only that, it's obvious enough from the list of invitee's that they just basically took some mailing list because there's like a thousand people on the invite list and you don't recognize anyone.

I got one for a Halloween party type thing, riding around in a costume on one of those electric trolley cars. Sounds fun. I have no idea whose throwing it. All I know is that it's organized by a group of guys in their mid-twenties from Cal Poly who party so hard that they have a Web site devoted to paying homage to their partying. I don't know any guys in their mid twenties from Cal Poly. Not only that, it's been awhile since I hung out with people who were so proud of their partying that they put up a Web site to honor it.

Still sounds kind of fun, though.

Last week I had to write a Thank You letter after a job interview. I know I have to write one- it's in the rules, but I hate writing them. Everytime I send one out, it scares the crap out of me. The way I see is it that I've already been through the interview process, I've already met them, so if they like me, what the Thank You letter is, then, nothing more than just one more chance I have of fucking it up. Like misspelling a name or using correct grammar. Or, even worse, since I basically just re-edit old Thank You letters, forgetting to change a person's name or the name of the company.

Sometimes I wonder if all those jobs I didn't get way back when that I thought I should have gotten I didn't because I screwed up the Thank You letter.

Okay, so I missed the frickin' softball game. So I said I'd go, didn't and almost caused the team to forfeit. On the other hand, is my bailing on a softball game worth not one call, but two? There I was, watching VH-1's "We're Really Running Out of Lists: 50 Greatest Album Covers of All Time" when the phone rang. I, of course, didn't answer it as I had that feeling I shouldn't. Who was it? The captain of the team basically giving me a five minute guilt trip for blowing off the game.

Okay, first- it's a softball game. Second of all, the teams sucks. Third of all, I should say they suck because I play so infrequently play I can't really say I'm involved in the suckage. Fourth of all, Jesus Frickin' Christ, is it really worth calling me at 5:45 that afternoon to give me a guilt trip?

I mean, really? People flake, flake, flakedly flake all the time in this city. This city is full of people who flake. And yes, it does make things rather difficult at times, but why is that most people get away with it, yet I do it and wind up get the full guilt-trip for it?

Maybe it's just because he hates the Jews.

Just finished reading my sixth book in about three weeks. This time it was "Seabiscuit," a much better book than movie and worth all the praise.

I hate when I finish a book, though. Especially these days when reading books are pretty much the only thing I do that doesn't involve the TV. Everytime I finish a book, I'm left with only one thought- now what do I do?

I had a softball game this morning. Yep, with the crappy-ass, never playing me, awful jersey buying softball team I play on. It was the dreaded 10 o'clock game, a game time with which I usually have a problem rallying for even on the best of mornings. This was not the best of mornings, and no not because I was out drinking last night, more like up all night with insomnia.

I wanted to play, really I did- it's not like I have that much going on this weekend, more like nothing going on this weekend- but as I was lying in bed, recovering from a one or two hour at the most sleep, reading "Seabiscuit" and watching the all exciting CNN/People Magazine hour-long look at "Friends" I just couldn’t get motivated to play. Why should I schlep on down there, after all? We're going to lose, I'm going to sit on the bench, and they'll have more than enough guys to play. So, I gave them my word and said I'd be there. So I have nothing else to do today and it is a beautiful day for softball. But damnit, I'm cozy in my bed and I like it that way. They won't need me.

So I didn't go.

Game time comes and as I'm getting that "hmm, maybe you should have gotten your ass out of bed" feeling, I get a message on my phone. It's from one of the captain's of my team all panicky and wondering where I was. Not only did they not have enough guys, they didn't have people period. All of which meant that I would have played the entire game, probably in the position I want to play, but my flaking probably made the team lose by default even before the game began.

Oy, the guilt.

Apparently I'm #6 if you do a search for me using the phrase "bitches with legs spread wide open." Yay me. While extremely, shall we say, declasse, I do have to admit that it's kind of funny that somebody did a search where instead of using the word "women"- which is how most of us would do it if doing such a search, he just went ahead and entered "women" as "bitches."

Let me guess, the guy listens to a lot of hip-hop...

There I was, at a club, surrounded by nubile young women everywhere, sort-of rocking out to an 80's metal cover band when it happened. As the show ended and everyone in the VIP section was scrambling to figure out what to do who should tap me on the arm and ask me "are we done?" One of the nubile young woman, one who spent most of the night drunkenly rocking out and singing along to all the lyrics as if she really was living on a prayer. This could be my big moment, my rock n'roll fantasy, my "Dear Penthouse" moment, my once-in-a-lifetime chance to live the bling-bling. My response? "Yep, we're done."

What can I say? It was 1:30 in the morning, I was fricking tired, my back was killing me and I just wanted to go to sleep.

Like anything would have happened anyways…..

God damnit, they did it to me again. With the Magic Number at 2 and my credit card now working, I played a guessing game as to when the Giants would clinch. Thinking that it would probably be today, a game set for a beautiful Thursday afternoon, I decided to throw down and go to today's's game.

Naturally, they clinched last night.

God damnit.

Not only did they clinch, but it all ended with one of the most remarkable, nicest things I've seen in sports. With the game ending before the Dodgers game ending, the Giants put the Dodgers game on the scoreboard and with a rocking crowd chanting "Beat LA! Beat LA!", most of the Giants players stayed on the field to watch it with the fans. Including the Man himself. When the Dodgers went down, the players jumped around and celebrated, making sure that they included their fans in the celebration. It must have been magical, it must have been spine-tingling, it must have been, well, amazing.

And I, as usual, watched it at home on TV.

Bruce Jenkins in the Chron said this about the Giants: There's a magic to Barry Bonds, the '03 Giants and the spectacle of their fabulous ballpark, and there is absolutely no skepticism allowed. …We will not have this forever. Make sure you appreciate what you're seeing..

Go Giants!

Move along....nothing to see here....

Yo, check this out-

Jews sued for 'stealing' gold in Exodus- Egyptians to seek compensation for 'tons' allegedly taken.

Not to be un-PC her, nor go against my usual "One Love! One Heart! Let's get together and feel all right" sensibilities, but between this and the whole "Jewish" Barbie being a threat to Islam thing, you have to admit that the Arabs sometimes aren't driving with a full tank of gas if you know what I mean.

Besides the absurdity of the whole thing, whose dumb enough to sue the Jews? Among other things, how the hell are you going to find a lawyer to represent you?

Nevermind this message....

Stupid blogger going all double posty on me.

I went to Safeway today to do my big shop. Staring at me everywhere were last week's celebrity tabloids with pictures of a smiling Ben and Jen, basking in their glorious love. Stories touted their love and dedication as the excitement was building for the crescendo that was to have been their wedding. One talked about how they were looking forward to having children, another about how Jennifer was determined to make this wedding last. All claimed to have the details of the wedding.

We will never know how much we lost last Sunday, that dark day in which it was announced that they were splitting up. I know, like 9/11 or JFK's assassination, we'll always be able to recall just where we were when he heard the news (I heard it first from James Brown while watching the Fox halftime show). All I know is that ever since then, this world has seemed like a much colder place.

Sorry, getting all political again….

There was a great column today by the always rocking Robert Scheer about the lies and lying liars who make up the Bush Administration. Scheer's point is that since 9/11, Smirkboy and the Smirkettes (or is it Rummy and the Rummettes?) have used a strategy in which they make some big, huge pronouncement that's total BS but guaranteed to scare just enough bejesus out of everyone that people will support what they want to do. The press, of course, then goes out and hype it all up with the attendant logos, theme music, and breathless punditry proclaiming that it's proof that we should basically go nuke the rest of the world.

It works something like this- Cheney gives a big speech and announces that they have found recently uncovered documents claiming that Bill Buckner was, in fact an agent of Saddam Hussein and that he let the ball roll under his leg's in Game 6 of the '86 series because it was all part of some nefarious plot by Saddam. The press hears this and goes in full shark-frenzy mode. Does this mean that by not using Marshall Faulk at all in the 2nd half of the 2002 Superbowl that maybe Mike Martz is an agent of Saddam too? And if the evildoers have infiltrated sports, how do we protect ourselves and does this give Ashcroft the rights to arrest any athlete who screws up and send them to Guantonomo Bay?

Then, of course, after all the hullabaloo has been hullabalo'ed, Cheney will appear somewhere that guarantees nobody is paying attention, like on a news channel on at the same time as both "Friends" and "Survivor" are on or the Arizona Cardinals post-game highlight show, and announces that well, shucks, he misspoke when he said that thing about Bill Buckner. What he mean to say was that Saddam was a huge Sox fan and that Uday would often tease Saddam by constantly making references about Game 6 and would often call Saddam "your boy." This statement, of course, would barely register anywhere on the news, especially by sports fans who are too busy trying to figure out who the terrorists are and for the bombing of Yankee Stadium.

Or, the press might actually take notice and what'll happen is something like this. You know how I mentioned earlier that Cheney went on "Meet the Press" and basically pulled stuff out of his ass about supposed links between Saddam and Osama and that nobody except the Washington Post called him on it? Well, I was flipping through the channels and caught Chris Matthews on "Hardball" calling him on it. Or, more like asking his guest what he thought about Cheney's "alleged" claims. The guest whose opinion he was asking? Right-wing radio commentator and fellow convicted Watergate felon G. Gordon Liddy. Which is the exact right person to ask if you're trying to figure out whether Cheney's claims are right or not, a radio commentator so rabidly right-wing he makes other rabid right-wing radio commentators look like Phil Donahue. Hel-lo. That's exactly the kind of person you want for a fair and balanced view of the whole thing (err, maybe there's a better way of saying that- please don't sue me Fox News). Not so surpassingly, Liddy sat back and told Chris that no, there was no way Cheney was lying because, gosh darnit, Cheney would never lie.

Come to think of it, though, it does make some sense to interview a convicted felon who was put in prison for lying while working for a President about someone who is lying while working for a President. After all, who better to comment on the blatant lies of the White House than somebody who helped make blatant lies for Nixon.

I so need to get out of the house more…..

I know it's early and I know it's only more of an infatution than anything else and I know that it's too early to get my hopes up, but....I think I'm in love.

Go, Wesley Clark, go.

Just the thought of him debating Smirkboy fills me with glee.

I went to the Unemployment Office for my "personal review" session. Turns out it was a group thingy, held for all the wretched refuse of the bad economy. There was white collar types and blue collar types, kids fresh out of school and people in their 50's, white hipsters and immigrants. And it was going to be much longer than I thought it would be.

I thought it would be one of those in/out nobody gets hurt type things. Thought I'd be able to get out of there in a snap. Nope, it was an hour long discussion on how to find a job. I know this stuff. I've lived this stuff. I could teach the class on this stuff. I haven't eaten lunch, I'm bored out of my skull, and I forgot to set my VCR to watch "Pardon the Interruption" and it was looking like I'd miss it.

By looking around, I could tell I wasn't the only one thinking that way. The women sitting across from me doodled. The woman sitting next to me wrote her to-do list. And we just might have been able to get out of there early except for one guy- he wanted to talk. He sat there and asked questions. He made comments. He told a story about how one of the Unemployment Offices used to be a Sears Store. And he wouldn't shut up. Everytime the person who was running the thing said something, the person would make a comment. I wanted to yell at him to shut the hell up. Nobody wanted to be there, nobody wanted to hear him, yet he just yabbered away, holding everyone else hostage to his love of his own voice.

I hate those people.

I guess I should take some schadenfreude in the fact that it's been over a month since I was unceremoniously let go from my last job and they just posted the job again. Looks like they changed a lot of the job's responsibilities too.

Not easy to replace me, is it Jenna? Found out a couple of things I had to do weren't as easy as you thought Jenna? How'd the whole video thing, go Jenna? Looks like the person whose going to replace me doesn't have to do it anymore. Why's that Jenna? Did you did a little soul-searching and figure out what a demanding bitch you could be too Jenna?

Hope you're past month has been as fun as mine. Must have been really fun having to cover for me when everything I was in charge of was due right after you let me go. I'm sure those 15 sku's that were due at the end of the same week you whacked me must have been.

When I am King you will be first against the wall...

I have waited years for it. Searched in vain for it. Cursed the fates that I have never seen it.

And now I have.

This morning, I finally saw the episode in which Brenda & Dylan get together.

And oh, it was good. Not only was it the first episode in which they started dating, but the episode in which Dylan's dad (played by another actor than the one who was to appear later in the pentultimate BH 9'er moments) but the one in which Brenda decides she's not ready to sleep with Dylan.

Sadly, this day is going to be all downhill from here.

Have to go into the Unemployment office and convince them that I've been looking for work. In all the times I've been unemployed, which has been a lot, I'm getting all sorts of hassled by the Unemployment people. First the phone interview, now this. Look I know the economy sucks and the unemployment rate is off the hook, and I also know that there's a huge deficit which is only going to get worse due to Iraq, but still- can you please just get off my back and just send me the damn money?

So I'm sure all of you, fellow readers (all three of you) are wondering what we here at Hooray for Anything think about some court postponing this recall thingy til March. Even though it actually kind of helps the Dems, I'm sorry they ruled that way. Why? Because it means we have to live with this crap for another six months.

One more political note before I go back to the Whacky Adventures of Me- the news channels are playing up all of the various flips and flops of the Democratic candidates running for President. Which is all well and good and definately fair territory (I think Dean's gonna be in trouble), but if they're going to point out all the crap that the Democratic Candidates are saying, can they finally get around to point out all the crap Smirkboy and the Smirkettes have been saying?

Apparently, Dick Cheney crawled out from whatever rock he's been hiding under (for security reasons, of course) and sat there on NBC and pulled stuff out of his ass concerning Iraq. Besides the usual stuff about the whole Iraq thing going as well as planned, all done with that smug look all the Bushies have that connotes the attitude that it's beneath them to dignify any criticism of what they have done, Cheney went out of his way to basically say that Saddam was responsible for everything bad thing from the bombing of the World Trade Center in '93 to the Macarena. And as usual, with the exception of the Washington Post, nobody called him on any of it.

Reporter:…further documents are beginning to prove conclusively that not only did the Bush administration not plan ahead for the post-war period, but that, in fact, the Pentagon actually based most of their decisions on a Magic 8-ball. The White House has….

Quick cut away. Dramatic music is cued and a picture of Ben Afleck and Jlo appear on the screen, American flag in the background, and this logo appears "Ben Afleck and Jennifer Lopez- the Wedding of the Century."
Go to shot of anchor person

Anchor Person: Sorry to pull away from that story, but we have a late, breaking news development. According to several sources, Ben Afleck and Jennifer Lopez have split up. I repeat, Ben Afleck and Jennifer Lopez have split up. We now go live to our Hollywood Reporter, Miffy Pendergrast for the latest, Miffy…

Miffy: Yes, thanks. I'm here from Hollywood with the latest word of the Ben Afleck/Jennifer Lopez relationship. There are several unconfirmed reports from a variety of sources saying that not only will they not be getting married, but they have, in fact, broken up. Sources are unclear, however, as to whether the break-up is final or just a bump in the road between America's sweethearts.

Anchor: Miffy, is there any official word yet from either actor's camp as to what happened?

Miffy: Unfortunately, not. The spokespeople for both Ben and Jen are refusing to take calls, but the report has been confirmed by several credible sources. It does appear that they are on the outs.

Anchor: Thanks Miffy, is there any indication as to what the cause was?

Miffy: It's not as clear yet, however, one source has confirmed to me that Jennifer realized that Ben was nothing more than a good-looking male bimbo and that Ben realized that Jennifer was not who she claimed to be. In fact, one source said that Ben has grown increasingly dismayed over the fact that, as the source said, and I quote, "she's no longer just Jenny from the block."

Anchor: Obviously this is heartbreaking news not just for Hollywood, but for America. What's it like in Hollywood? How are people reacting to the latest word?

Miffy: Well, obviously people here in Hollywood are devastated. In fact, the Mayor of Hollywood has ordered that all the flags be lowered at half-mast tomorrow and that there be a period of silence tomorrow morning to commemerate the unfortunate turn of events.

Anchor: Thanks Miffy. For more on what happened, we'd like to introduce Access Hollywood Gossip Expert, Betty Lou Babble

Betty Lou: Well, according to my sources, several days before the wedding Jennifer was all like "if Ben's gonna keep on going to strip-clubs, I'm SO gonna dump him." And when she told this to Ben, Ben was all like "no way" and then when Jennifer heard him say that she was all in his face and told him to talk to the hand.

Anchor: Interesting and thanks for the information. I'd like now like to introduce Ned Nitwit, Senior Fellow of the Duff Foundation. Ned, how do you think this is going to affect the California Recall Election?

Ned: Well, obviously with all this attention being brought to Hollywood celebrities, it could only help bring further attention to the importance of Hollywood Stars. This, of course, can only help Schwarzenegger. In fact, Conservatives have already blasted Gray Davis for causing the break-up. Meanwhile, State Senator Tom McClintock issued a statement saying how more Hollywood couples would be able to last if it weren't for such high taxes in the state.

Anchor: Thanks Ned. And for further analysis, we turn to Anne Coulter, author of such books as "Treason" and "All Liberals Should be Shot." Anne?

Anne: Yes, thank you. As Ben is a noted Hollywood Liberal, this further proves that liberal Democrats are completely unable to get married and live healthy, happy lives. As we all know, only Conservative Republicans have successful relationships. It is for this reason why I advocate in my latest book that every liberal should be rounded up and shot.

Anchor: Thanks Anne for your usual insightful commentary. For one more take on the ending of what America has lovingly referred to "Bennifer," we have commentary from noted moral prude Bill Bennet, Bill?

Bill: Well all I can say is that I'm actually happy that the relationship is over. I had them at 4-1 odds in Vegas that they wouldn't get married.

Anchor: Well okay, now we'll take you back to our regularly scheduled programming, "Larry King Live, with special Guest Shari Lewis and Lamb Chop."

Jesus frickin' Christ people, is the death of John Ritter, while sad, really that big of a deal? The way the news channels have been playing tribute to him it's like we just lost a Comedy Great, a Titan of Entertainment. No, what we lost is the guy who played Jack Tripper in a dumb-ass sitcom that had the same damn plot in every episode.

Maybe it's because it's too convenient, but what does it say when John Ritter is given equal tribute as Johnny Fucking Cash.
One- has been sitcom star.
The other- maybe one of the five coolest people on the face of the planet when alive.
One- resurrected career by starring in "Eight Rules for Dating My Daughter".
The other one- sang with Elvis.

Do I even have to go on?

Actually, Johnny's one of my few celebrity sightings. He was playing in town at the Fillmore, I think, and my soccer team and I were out heading for a bar after a game. On the way back to my ride's car, we passed this huge trailer, parked outside a Wahlgreen's. It was Johnny's tour trailer. Naturally, I had to look inside. I mean, Johnny Fucking Cash is not going to be walking into a Wahlgreen's all by lonesome. Let's be serious. So I gawked inside the windows, hoping to catch the man himself. And then I saw him, by the trailer's kitchen sink, cleaning dishes. And the amazing thing about it- the Man in Black was actually wearing grey.

I know, pretty exciting story ain't it…..

There's this new movie out called "Lost in Translation" that stars Bill Murray and is directed Mrs. Spike Jonez. It's getting great reviews and I was thinking about going to see it until I read the title of the review in the Bay Guardian: Sleepless in Shinjuku- Lost in Translation rediscovers the clichés of expat life in Japan.

God damnit, I am so sick of that cliché. How many times have filmmakers with nothing to say used that cliché just because they can't think of anything else? And, as we all know, if you've seen one movie about the expat life in Japan, you've seen them all.

What a pretentious wanker.

Wow, both Johnny Cash and John Ritter meet the Grim Reaper on the same night. Considering that these things come in three's, if I was a celebrity with the first name of John, I'd be really, really nervous right now.

"Come and knock on our door ...
We've been waiting for you ...
Where the kisses are hers and hers and his,
Three's company too.

Come and dance on on our floor...
Take a step that is new ...
We've a loveable space that needs your face,
Three's company too.

You'll see that life is a frolic and laughter is calling for you ...
Down at our rendez-vous,
Three's company, too!"

Just got back from another temp test- 85 WPM on the typing test, baby, with 100% accuracy! Not to mention high scores in Word and PowerPoint, a program I don't even know. And all done with a slight hangover, no sleep, and not enough coffee.

I rock.

Yay me?

Things that make you go hmmmm....

Why Don't We Have Answers to These 9/11 Questions?

Hey, did you know John Ashcroft and other high-level officials stopped flying commercial airlines months before 9/11? Why didn't NORAD or anyone go into the air and shoot one of those planes down before they slammed into a building? And why did Bush sit there for 20 minutes reading a children's book when he first heard about the attacks?

When do you know the Temp Agency you just signed up for probably is not going to get you any Temp gigs? When you go into the office and notice that the huge office space is mainly full of empty desks.

Back to the Wonderful World of Temping. Or, at least, signing up to Temp. Which means test after test after test to prove that you can do what you've done a good job of poofing up on your resume. So sit right down, spend a couple hours and do some Word, Excel, and typing tests.

These tests aren't as easy as you'd think. I use Word for Mac at home. The tests are all on PC. And there's so many different versions of Windows out there that while I'm pretty good at Windows 98, the test could be in XP. Or it could be in Windows 95. So you sit there and say "I know this" and go up looking for a button or pull-down menu only to discover that it's not on that version. Or that it's a brand new thing they've added to Word that you've never even heard of before and have to try and guess. Luckily, Word (and Excel) is pretty idiot proof, but you have two chances to get it right, if not you get dinged. Click on the wrong thing by accident- blammo, you got a wrong answer.

Today's test fun was extra fun because the Temp Person (er, "Staffing Consultant") hooked me up to the ergonomic keyboard. And all this after bragging about my prowess in typing and 10-key so now I really have to preform. I've never really used an ergonomic keyboard before, especially while being tested, and it's not quite as easy to do as you'd think. You'd move your finger to where you're sure the B is, for instance, and wind up hitting nothing but keyboard. And since everything's kind of slanted, everything isn't where it's supposed to be. When you're being time-tested, this kind of sucks.

Because I'm an idiot, I didn't say anything and suffered through it. Which actually turned out to be a good thing. My scores were pretty damn good, but when I told the "Staffing Consultant," a jittery tall women who has a "Most Improved Staffing" Award featured predominately on her desk, that I used the ergonomic keyboard, all she could say was "wow!" What can I say, I'm fucking good at typing.

One day, I hope, I'll be able to impress someone with something other than my mad typing skills.

So I'm job-stalking someone again, calling them every half-an-hour on the hour to find out whether or not I got a job. So far, not so good. I'm pretty sure I didn't get the job, but I'd like to know for sure, especially since I've left a couple of messages and gotten no reply. It's a matter of principle right now. I even explained to her on her voice-mail that I needed to know ASAP because there's a chance I might be offered another job and wanted to find out what's up with this one so I can make a decision, which is true. I guess, however, my life is of no importance to her.

Good thing I have her cell-phone number. She just might be getting a suprise phone call while she's out for drinks with a friend or two tonight.

Many people are wondering how I spend all of my time now that I am once again unemployed. For all of those curious people out there, here is a dairy of my day-

8:00- wake up to the phone ringing. Somebody has been calling me every morning at 8 for the past week but not leaving a message. Have a feeling it's Bank of America calling to remind me to pay my credit card bill.
8:00-9:00- Spend an hour in bed watching TV. I flip between the news, last night's "Sportscenter," and "Dawson's Creek" re-runs. I notice that there's so many big stories going on that Fox spends half of their news segments just showing that particular story's logo and theme music.
9:00- Get out bed, flip on some shorts and sandals and get the paper
9:15- Get back into bed to read the paper. This is usually the highlight of my day.
10:00- check e-mail. Notice that it looks like I'm being blown off by some woman I've been out on a couple of dates with. Make mental notice that "I'll talk to you soon" is short-hand for "I don't think you ready for this jelly…."
10:15- Read through all my Web sites and articles, seeing if the suck-ass performance of my first round pick in my Fantasy Football draft, Donovan McNabb, was a fluke or harbinger. Looking like a harbinger.
10:47- Think about doing something with my day, can't think of anything.
11:00- Get back into bed to read/watch TV
11:30- Get phone call telling me that one of the job's I interviewed for last week went to an internal candidate. Good to know that I spent all that time, effort, and energy for a job I had no hope for from the beginning.
11:35- Think about maybe getting up and making something out of the day
11:37- Start reading in bed again.
12:00- Check e-mail. Nothing. Check with Slate and Salon to see if they've posted something new.
12:15- Go back to bed to read/watch TV
12:30- Bored, I decide it's time to take a shower
1:00- Shower over, go back to bed to read/watch TV
1:30- Bored, I decide to make lunch
1:45- Get back into bed
2:00-3:00: Watch "Around the Horn" and "Pardon the Interruption." Another highlight of the day. I watch this in bed
3:00- Decide to do something with my day and make a few job-related phone calls.
3:05- Get back into bed to watch the early "Sportscenter"
3:30- Check e-mail. Get "I really like you as a friend…" e-mail
3:33- Get back into bed to finish watching "SportsCenter." Start to think about what I should do tonight. Can't think of anything.
3:56- Phone rings. I answer. It's an automated message from BofA telling me I haven't paid my credit card bill.
4:00- 4:30- Check e-mail. Nothing.
4:30- Back into bed to do some reading
4:57- Flip on TV and notice that I missed the Buffy episode "Hush" on F/X. Make note to watch it tomorrow morning when I wake up
5:00-6:30: Watch Democratic debate on Fox News. Afterwards, I wonder if Fox decided to sponsor it just so they can bust on the Democrats afterwards.
6:30- Go take unemployment check and see how much money I have left in the world and figure out my finances for the next few weeks. It's looking pretty bleak.
6:45- Instead of figuring out finances for the next few weeks, I decide to deal with financial problems by finishing off bottle of wine
7:05- Receive phone message from someone using a cell phone. Naturally, I can't understand a word of it. At least it's not the credit card company.
7:15-10:00- Watch Giants game and read in bed
10:00-11:00- flip through channels, just killing time until the "The Daily Show" and "Tough Crowd" come on.
11:00-12:00- Watch the "The Daily Show" and "Tough Crowd"
12:00- pop sleeping pills and fall asleep.

Oh my God, I so can't wait to see this movie: Confessions of a Burning Man. There is absolutely nothing- nothing- I want more than to spend a couple of hours watching a documentary about Burning Man, full of nothing but people telling me how great it is and how life changing it is and how amazing it is.

If I had a choice between this flick and "Gigli," I'd definately go with "Gigli" (unless, of course, the Burning Man documentary has lots of naked women in it, then I'd have to think about it).

Going through some stuff, I stumbled upon my old bosses business card. Not knowing what else to do with it, I threw it in the toilet, took a huge piss, and flushed.

Another day, another interview. This time the 2nd round, for an advertising agency. The first interview went well, really well, maybe too well. I was feeling really good about it, actually, until this weekend when I realized that the job was so good and so perfect and so timely that, of course, something would go wrong.

Get to the interview not in that perfect "how ya' doin'" interview mode, but decent enough. To get myself psyched up, I try and recall the music from "Rocky" in my head. After all, if Rocky can go the distance, so can I.

The interview takes place in the lounge area, on these huge sofa's in the middle of everything. I'm supposed to meet first with the Creative Director and then the Art Director. After waiting around for awhile, I meet up with the Art Director. He hasn't seen my resume, doesn't really know what the job is for, and barely asks any questions. So, I do what I can, try and go through my schpiel as if he's prompting me. The interview is over in a couple of minutes. He says "great" and walks off.

Second interview begins a few minutes later. Not with the Creative Director, but with one of the artists. He has my resume, but isn't used to interviewing people. We talk a bit, just talking biz and the ins and outs of the industry. He runs out of things to ask me about as he doesn't know what the plan is so he goes on and on about what he's looking for and the pitfalls of his job. Finally, the person whose hiring me comes by. She just quickly tells me that I won't be meeting the Creative Director at all, for reasons unclear, and that's it for the day.

As we leave, she gives me the "don't call me, we'll call you routine."

Huh?

How could I go from a first interview that ended with her saying "great, I love your attitude and your experience" to "we'll let you know." What did I say? Considering that the two people I interviewed with didn't know how they were supposed to interview me, let alone know how to interview me, how could I say something wrong with one of them? Was my outfit too grubby? Did I miss a spot while shaving?

The whole experience was like going out on a date and everything's fine and good and you're thinking you're onto something and then right in the middle of the fun, the date looks at her watch and says "I have to get up early the next morning and I'm really tired, so…." And just like those dates, my carefully laid plans- my game- is totally off do the whole thing huh-ness of it all. I leave without a clue as to what's going on or what to expect. All I leave with is a sick feeling in my stomache.

….I can't believe I'm writing about this shit again……

So last Saturday night, I went to a literary type thingy. Even did my first reading. After my reading, there was nothing more than I wanted to do but bask in the glory, do some networking, work the crowd. You know, finally use this writing thing to my advantage, have my small measure of fame.

Typically, instead of being cornered, networked, and praised bythe cute woman whose writing a novel about the Hititites or the cute woman who wrote a poem about how she's looking for some guy to accept her just as she is so she could get off the Zone diet, I got cornered by a 35 year old male. A 35 year old male whose married with kids. A 35 year old guy whose married with kids who really liked my sense of humour and wants to bounce ideas off of me because he writes in a similar style and is too afraid to show it to anyone else lest somebody doesn't get it.

Which is flattering, I guess, but why him? Why couldn't it be someone who, well, isn't a 35 year old male?

My softball team decided to get these really bad, dorky-ass softball t-shirts. Actually, they're not really t-shirts, more like a powder-blue polyester shirts that resembles the old Brewers uniforms, circa early 1980's and the days of Cecil Cooper and Gorman Thomas, except not as good looking.

So we're wearing these God-awful T's and once again I start the game sitting on the bench. I am now Bench-22- I don't play enough to show I can field better than half of the other people on the team or even hit better than half the people can on the team and thus can't get off the bench. My moping over the whole scenario is only accentuated by watching my team give up 11 runs in the first inning.

But wait, something happens. One of the captains sees that I'm not starting and being cool about it apologizes and tells me he'll get me in as soon as I can. Bully for me. Except he wants me to play 3rd base.

When I was young, everyone wanted to play the infield. It was the ultimate compliment. It was what all the good players on the Little League team got to play- all the kids who couldn't play got the outfield. Which was also the last time I've really played third base, back when I was a kid. As I got older, I got okay with playing the outfield. I realized its importance. And I also realized that outfield is kind of easier to play, as the ball is hit to you, you actually get a few seconds to think about it. When you play the infield, especially third base, by the time you realize that the ball is being hit to you, it's right by you.

The end result? One ball deflected off my glove and into the outfield, a ball through my legs that got caught by the shortstop, and a ball that took a wicked hop that almost took my head off. I also threw the ball away during a run-down between third and catcher, drawing a rebuke from the captain, the very-same captain who didn't yell at all the drops, miscues and overthrows during the game, but took exception on me for bungling a run-down. Now, besides the fact a run-down isn't the easiest play to execute (major league baseball teams actually run drills on it), it's especially difficult in a below-rung, bottom of the pile softball league. I was victimized by the fact there wasn't a color commentator to point out the fact that I had no other choice simply because our catcher, all 6-2 of him neglected to get out of the way and so I had no other choice in doing what I did unless I wanted to paste him with my throw.

Oh yeah, I also made a nice play and tagged someone out as they tagged up to third, but the ump blew the call.

Final score- Other Team 27- Us 5.

After the game, I felt like I wanted to go take off all my clothes and climb a tree in embarrassment, like one of the kids in the "Bad News Bears."

Is it asking too much for whenever the President gives a speech for all the various 24 hour news channels to bring in an analyst- just one- who actually disagress with the President? Or at least might bring up the fact that half of the stuff he said weren't true? Like there isn't any WMD's or that Iraq had nothing to do with 9/11 or terrorism. I flip through the channels after his speech and it's Republican, Republican, Replubican. And, to show that they're "fair and balanced" a moderate.

And is it too much to ask that whoever writes the President's speeches to open up a Thesauras and use words other than "freedom," "terror" and "terrorists"?

As for my opinion of the speech, all I can say is that no matter what the President says, all I can see is Will Ferrell saying "strategery."

It seems these days that the only people who are calling me are people taking polls. Which is kind of fun, actually, cause I get to be part of the great vox populi. For once, my opinion matters and somebody, other than the two people who read this, care.

For the past fifteen minutes, I was on the phone doing one. It went all the way from my views on the Democratic contendors, energy & transportation policy, whether I'm a fan of NASCAR, to the Kennedy Assasination. Yeah, the Kennedy Assination. Wow. Nobody's ever asked me that (total conspiracy) before. And what the hell does it have to do about anything anyways?

The one thing about doing one of these little polls is that now I have to state an opinion, make a choice, give support. So consider me now officially hopped on the Dean bandwagon.

"Hey Jacques, it's Colin…..Colin Powell. Uh, you know, Secretary of State….of America.

Yeah, I know it's been a long time, comment allez-vous? Ca va? Yeah, I know you guys had a rough summer. Crazy, huh? Good thing that Global Warming thing isn't true (laughs).

So you know, Jacques, I'm calling you because, well, it's about Iraq…..uh….yeah….things are looking a little grim over there….anyways….you know how we said all that stuff about not needing anybody and how we'd go it alone if we had to? Well, umm, gosh, you know, turns out it's not true. It's, ummm, kind of turning out to be a just a tiny bit more difficult than we thought. What can I say? Our bad.

Anyways, look, so we got all sorts of problems going on over there. We keep on getting soldiers killed despite the fact the war's "over", this thing is costing us all sorts of billions of dollars, the Iraqi's are starting to hate us, and terrorists are blowing everything up. So, umm, what we were wondering is, umm, could you help us out? Maybe send over some troops or give us some money or something like that. It doesn't have to be that much, you know, but, well, any little bit would be mucho appreciated. Oh, and I know we've said some awful things about you- that "chocolate remark was a bit over the top- and we said a whole bunch of silly things about how you wont' get any oil money, but, well, we're sorry about that. You know how Dick and Rummy get when they're angry. And trust me, you don't want to see any of that, let me tell you.

Jacques? Jacques? What's so funny?"

Woah...earthquake.....

Are you ready for some football?

Hell, yeah!

I am, however, not ready for W. turning the intro into some soppy sermon about the strength of America, four hours of pre-game b.s. on ESPN, Rush Limbaugh giving "expert analysis", a Britney Spears interview, Britney Spears being asked about "the kiss", Ashanti in the opening bit, Snoop Dog in the opening bit, Britney in the opening bit, a Paul Wolfowitz interview as he's "hanging out" at the pre-game festivities, and Al Michaels toupe.

Just play the damn game. Please?

You know you're getting older when you tweak your back getting into a dress shirt.

Ow.

According to one of my recruiter's, I've done a really good job of getting my resume out there.

Yay me.

I'm also not feeling great about the fact that there's a whole bunch of people calling my references about me. Not only is it because they've already referenced me way too many times in the past, but because it announces to people I don't want it announced to that my great, awesome, kick-ass job didn't quite turn out to be so great, awesome, and kick-ass.

The other highlight of the day is that I actually bailed on an interview. Didn't show up and only called to say I'm bailing about five minutes before I was due. Part of it was because I had another one lined up, one that didn't involve a long-ass schlep to Concorde, but mainly because I just had a bad feeling about it. Yeah, I know, I really need a job, but I still have some standards. This job was not only for an Insurance/Financial company, but when I asked what job they wanted to interview me for, they would only tell me that they had a variety of jobs available doing sales and sales/support type things. Any qualms I had about bailing on the job, however, disappeared when I went to go leave a message about bailing and the voice-mail of the guy I was supposed to meet with ended his voice-mail with a "God bless you."

Let's see- long-ass commute to work for an insurance company for a guy who blesses everyone on his voice-mail. Where do I sign up?

Ahh, yes. I forgot about what life was like out there in the whacky world of unemployment in a post dot.com world. I try and do some research on one of the company's I have an interview with and find this as a description of what the company does-

"We've implemented e-commerce and content management solutions...We've delivered ideas on mobile phones, kiosks, digital organizers, DVDs, and Interactive TV. And we've done it globally....Our clients want the whole solution, not components. They don't want to worry about bits, bytes or baud rates. They just want to get the job done. So that's what we do."

Say what?

Man, it really is déjà vu all over again.

Just like last year, I find myself with four interviews over the next two days, all at various times and all scattered throughout the Bay area, yet my biggest concern is when will I have time to finish up my Fantasy Football Cheat Sheet for tomorrow night's draft.

Luckily, I doubt I'll have a repeat of last year's debacle where the night before both an interview and the draft, I spent the better part of the night having nightmares in which I find myself four deep into the draft and without a decent running back (a nightmare which would have come true if it weren't for some deft wire moves and the sudden emergence of Tiki Barber). Still, I sure hope that at some point during one of those interview crunch times, I don't find myself drifting away from the question to suddenly reopen the great Should I Draft Priest Holmes debate.

I don't know about you, but nothing brings a tear to the eye, a lump to the throat, and a warm feeling of "I'm Proud to Be an American" like seeing a crackhead walk down a street with a "God bless the USA" t-shirt.

Read this story over the weekend (while at a beach) and thought it was the funniest thing I've read in weeks. In a story about the inability of the American Government and whatever kind of Iraqi Government they have going on to do anything about the increasingly fuckedup-ness of post-war Iraq, was this:

"Yet in Baghdad, the Iraqi and U.S. officials charged with shepherding this country toward democratic rule went about their business as if little had changed. There were no speeches calling for calm, few public appearances by anyone in charge.

L. Paul Bremer, the chief U.S. administrator who is on vacation in Vermont, issued a statement blaming the attack on "the evil face of terrorism."

Okay, first of all, how long has Bremer been on the job? The war ended when, in April? He didn't start until May or June so that's only a couple of months on the job. Has he even accrued enough time to go on vacation? Especially to Vermont by way of Baghdad? That's not exactly a three-day weekend we're talking about.

Second of all, you got a country rapidly falling apart. You've got American soldiers dying daily, an Iraqi population getting increasingly more and more pissed off, and intelligence showing you that every wanna-be terrorist is now heading straight for Iraq like drunken sorority girls heading for Spring Break and he goes off on vacation. To Vermont.

Did it occur to either him or anyone else in the Administration that a little trip to Vermont in the middle of maybe the defining moment of the 21st Century was not such a good idea? Hell, one of the last companies I worked for wouldn't let employees off for Christmas or Thanksgiving because the company had their major product launches in January. And that was just in the Consumer Electronics industry, not in the Making the World Safe for Democracy industry.

What does he think he is, French?

Good thing the President is in Washington monitoring the situation. Oh, wait, nevermind....

Turned on the TV this morning while laying in bed, trying wake up, and I stumbled upon the very first episode of not only "Beverly Hills 90210" and "Saved by the Bell."

And I thought today was going to be another dreary day of unemployment.