Seinfeld Moment

Such a slump this morning! I found myself craving that sugar boost...luckily we had an office birthday party last Friday, so there's still cake in the refrigerator. Now I'm all peppy again!

New Jokes

Call me feeble-minded, but for some reason, this little bit on the radio this morning gave me the giggles:

"JK Rowling is writing a new book, totally different from the Harry Potters. She's writing two versions simultaneously, one for children and one for adults...writing with both hands at the same time...and riding a unicycle...
"This new book is about a wizard named LARRY Potter -"

"Oh! Oh! THAT'S why we keep it so cold in here: keeps the comedy fresh!"

That last part I could definitely see myself using sometime.

Gross Out

I saw one of the grosser things I've ever seen in public: a guy clipping his nails in the subway. I was surprised, too, because in theory it doesn't sound all that unsanitary - but rest assured, it definitely is. I couldn't believe it; I thought that maybe he had one of those clippers that caught all the clippings, but no, when he left bits of fingernail were strewn all over his seat. And then some unsuspecting chump came in and sat in it! After that, I vowed that I will not sit in those subway seats anymore. No matter how tired I am.

8 1/2

As expected, I didn't get it. I do, however, think I'm starting to get a little more pattern recognition, ie a clearer sense of what Fellini thinks makes an awesome movie. Most easily, I recognize some aspects of Woody Allen, my main conduit to Fellini - the kaleidescopic interest in faces and people strikes me as something that has resonance in Deconstructing Harry, or Celebrity.

Above all, I think Fellini wants me to abandon my expectation for a linear plot. I heard the most interesting thing yesterday from my brother, when he rebuked me for having TOO intelligent a sense of humor! This was in response to my comment that his story or joke wasn't funny because there was no point, or plot, or punchline; he replied that I was missing the point, that that wasn't what stupid, mindless humor was about. Thus -

Fellini is like a stupid joke.

I speak as though I'm jesting, but I think there's something to be said about the suggestion that Fellini movies don't want to tell you anything, they want to show you something. Something beautiful and grotesque and imaginative; "poetic" seems to be most apt.

The great thing about 8 1/2 is that it has a good punch of humor in addiiton to all of the above. The harem scene where a toga-clad, cowboy-hatted Guido whips his women into submission is downright campy, a thing to be treasured. Saraghina is...well, something I would definitely put in if I were a filmmaker, and Gloria, particularly her entrance, is simply breathtaking.

I also like the fact that 8 1/2 is not quite as horrific as La Dolce Vita or Satyricon. It's very uncomfortable and depressing to mix horror and realism in equal small amounts.

Cocksucker

My landlord is such a fucking crook. I don't even want to talk about it, because months or years from now, when I read this post again, I do not want to be reminded of it.

Alternative

Is it just me or does YouTube suck now? Ever since it went into the majors. Someone quick, start up a renegade site. Actually, someone probably has already, I just don't know about it. Someone tell me where I can find this better YouTube site.

Great Story

"Did I tell you time my old roommate peed in the drinking fountain? Well, it was during formal: all of the stalls were full and she was drunk and really had to go to the bathroom. She stood there waiting and waiting, and no one is coming out, and suddenly she looks over and says, 'that handicapped fountain looks about the right height!' So she squats down and relieves herself in the drinking fountain!"

A simple story, with just two details that make it golden (pun!): (1) the fact that it was formal, and (2) the abuse of handicapped facilities.

How Is It Fair?

Last Friday I had my first fuck-up at work: instead of filing something in court, I filed it in the office.

Everyone acted like the difference was obvious, but I ask: how is that even fair? All week I got mostly organizing work; my attorneys' affairs are a mess because my predecessor left 3 months ago, and all they told me was: Clean it up. And the same word got used for both kinds of tasks: "filing." Besides that, I've been getting by with next to no supervision or instructions (of the five people who could supervise me, three of them were gone for a good chunk of the week), so I say if anything I deserve a medal for figuring out what needs to get done on my own.

After that fuck-up, I got a little flustered, and compounded with my new case of yuppie-flu, I was pretty uncoordinated, and spent Friday afternoon trying to stay under the radar.

What a bad sign it is if I'm already developing a tense relationship with my boss in the first week! I think I might just have a problem with authority figures. I try not to, but I can't help it. James was nice enough about the fuck-up, but I could tell that he was extremely aggravated, and as much as I could understand that and sympathize with him, I also couldn't help letting it aggravate me. The fact is I need a thicker skin. I gotta be able to go through phases of being less than beloved professionally, and not let it crush me. I don't know how people do it. I just know that if I don't learn soon, I'm going to fail in everything I attempt.

Self-Absorbed

One of my new coworkers is a rare boon, one of those individuals I meet every once in a while where I know immediately that we should be good friends (though whether or not that ends up true is not certain; flakiness/lack thereof is usually a greater determinant than kinship of spirits when practicing friendship is involved; perhaps the subject of a later post). I wasn't sure at first why I got that feeling from Oscar, since he also happens to be more self-righteous than I usually prefer (runs half-marathons, passionate about the West Bank) - until he mentioned something about dealing with depression. (Aha! there was the connection.) I asked him how he felt about being a pill-popper.

"What's wrong with that?"
"The dependancy."
"Listen, I used to be against treating my depression, too. If I really took the time to take care of myself, I COULD get through it on my own. But then I realized what a waste of energy that was. All the time I was spending on myself, I could have been doing something else."

How eye-opening that was for me! It was true: the reason I let myself fall into such a state of ignorance and narrowness is because I don't have the energy to care about more important things. I'm completely, totally, butt-crazy in love with myself! And that is inexcusably self-indulgent. Even if I couldn't be induced to make a difference to the world globally, I at least could take the time to enrich myself in a more meaningful way, instead of saying woe-is-me all day.

I still feel some aversion to popping pills, but I've decided that I shouldn't consider it a weakness to ask for non-natural, professional help.

It Would Be Nice

if I could just update this blog at work. Unfortunately I can't because I've already thrown around the word "commie" a bit too often around here. So at the end of the day, I'm too tired to record any thoughts I might have had. This is a bad habit. If I'm going to be a writer I have to be able to power through and write come hell or high water.

Nothing much I can remember worth reporting, except that I cut my own hair today, and surprisingly, I like it better than when the professional did it, about a week ago. For some reason, if you're a professional, it seems that the only style you could come up with for my hair is "mullet."

Good Day

1. I got to do a lot of reading and editing at work. It was just like grading papers all over again, except better because the writing was better, and because it's real life. Some of the subject matter could bore you to tears, though. I think one of the documents I read today was the single most boring thing I've ever read in my life.

2. For the first time of EVER I finished the games section of my practice test 5 MINUTES EARLY. Woot-woot!

Working Stiff

Today was my first day at work. I'm reminded of that old Onion joke I love:

What do we hate most about work?
Showing up, sitting for eight hours, leaving.

Embarrassingly Uninformed

I'm listening to the Epsilons' new cd, their sophomore work with a very sophomore sentiment in one of their songs, "Teeny Boppers," which is one of those reactionary rants against the spoiled rich kids of the OC: "You should read a book or a newspaper instead of doing nothing!" One naturally identifies with being NOT a teeny bopper, but then I suddenly remembered, again, that I'm woefully, notoriously uninformed - and how many times has my lack newspaper reading gotten me into places where I would have been better off with a bag over my head?

In the spirit of comedy, I thought I'd record a few of my greatest hits:
1. 2004?: Rene Girard and friends were talking about the Catholic priest scandal about a week after it broke headlines, and I said aloud, What is this?
2. 2007: As I was exclaiming over the beautiful union of KFC and Taco Bell, I learned that the merger had actually taken place about 3 years ago.
3. 2007: While promoting Hillary Clinton's campaign, I was informed by my challenger that Clinton had voted for the Iraq war.
4. 2007: I made some comment to my new employers about the how 2004 supermarket strikes gained some ground in the labor negotiations, and they told me that no, 2004 was a screaming disaster.

More to come, I have no doubt.

Encore SHA-WIING!!

I got the job! The commie one. And not a minute too soon, because I've been living more ridiculously beyond my means than usual.

Broken Lizard's Club Dread

What an excellent movie! LOVED it.

"It just so happens Hank used to be a federal agent. Yes, that's right. Headed a FBI task force on serial killers. Single-handedly caught the Minneapolis Mangler."
"Who's the Minneapolis Mangler?"
"Exactly."

"There's always one fuck-head like you trying to shit in the apple pie. Well you just shat in the one apple pie that knows how to shit back."

No Wonder He Didn't Like Me Back

I got one of those illuminating emails from Asshole #1 a few days ago, the amusing kind that reveals a little part of how the rest of the world might see you:

'http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/08/fashion/08librarian.html
for some reason, this article made me think of you. i guess i can see you as the ultimate "hep cat" librarian?'

The article goes on to describe this new breed of hipster librarians who are nerds by day, and bar-lounging, rock concert-going, technologically savvy, socially activist, socially exclusive intellectuals by night (one of them even calls himself Jeff Buckley - true story). It asks questions like, 'How did such a nerdy profession become cool — aside from the fact that a certain amount of nerdiness is now cool?' before answering it with observations about the job as ideological resistance to the Patriot Act, and a good money-maker for the Greenwich Village types who are really writers waiting for their big break.

I may be a writer waiting for my big break. I may read boring difficult books. But I'm definitely not an activist (mostly I'm barely even informed), and I'm about as far away from technologically savvy as possible. Furthermore, though the article doesn't state it, I'm almost certain that these librarians run half-marathons and practice yoga, so there's no way I'd ever be admitted into their exclusive little group.

But more to the point is my intense intolerance for geeks, and if Asshole #1 missed that, I'd say he had a pretty crazy idea about who I was. I would never giggle about the joys of being a geeky intellectual, or make jokes about the Dewey decimal system! Suddenly it all makes sense: I would have dumped me too if I thought I was such a rodeo clown.

Plan of Action

is something I don't have. I think I'm headed back to square one in this job search unless I bust out some savvy soon. God knows I'm not savvy, so I'm screwed. Oh, how I hate myself.

Speaking of self-hate, I was giving some thought about the nature of apologies, and how one could apologize well...on account of my burning bridges recklessly these last few weeks or months or who the hell even knows. I've come to the conclusion that apologies are impossible, a wholly moot concept - and I'm not talking about just me because I don't wait for apologies when wronged, but simply get over it when I'm ready to. Now that I feel myself to be in the wrong, I can't think of a good way to make it up to the injured party in a meaningful way. After you betray a friend's faith in you or sever the bond or throw him the finger after he does you a favor that you wouldn't even ask from a relative, it seems pretty futile to ask if you could forget about it and continue as friends (or become friends, if it's the case that the bond you just severed was a professional or academic one). Equally insulting is the suggestion that you take him out for drinks or send him a card with a sad cartoon puppy on it, to prove how sorry you are. In each case, the desire to apologize seems thoroughly opportunistic and selfish, like you knew you were being an asshole the whole time, but you didn't care enough to actually change your actions, and if there's a pesky problem of the other person's hurt feelings, you expect to solve it with money and crayons.

No, there's no such thing as a working apology. Reflecting on this makes me marvel all the more on the magical quality of forgiveness: it's spontaneous and generous (if apologies are unreal, there can't be such a thing as apology-generated forgiveness). It's hard not to wax religious here and call it a spark of the divine, because I think the God model (All-powerful being forgives asshole race of wimps for no good reason except that he feels like it) is quite apt. The penitent can't possibly have anything of value to offer to the injured. You have to demand love and acceptance in exchange for nothing. Once you do have something of value to offer, well, that's just reparations and business, not real forgiveness.

In Puerto Rico, Suckas!

Where the Starbucks provides free internet, the way all Starbuckses would in a dimension that makes sense. There is a drop-dead gorgeous barrista here, which is why I'm sticking around and blogging, when normally I'd get going to do vacation stuff. For some reason a lot of sites I need aren't loading (thesuperficial, American Airlines), so I'm kind of running out of excuses to stay. What a shame. The bad thing about barristas is that you can't ask them out for cup of coffee. Not that I would anyways. I'm not that ballsy anymore. A slow suspicion started dawning on me that all the cute people in the world did not age with me ("the great thing about high school girls: I get older, they stay the same age"), and putting myself out there now could very well make me the the "creepy old guy" that 19-year-olds are always complaining about. You have to be careful about that shit. I figure the only reason the creepy old guys act so creepy is because they seriously aren't aware of how the kids think of them as old.

Si las mujeres son moscas, tu eres la miedra.

Lingua de amor. Language of love.

Killer Instinct

My little guy finally paid up his rent just now: he killed an animal that was prowling in the yard. And wouldn't you know, that animal was...of all things...A SKUNK. I don't know if I should feel proud of him, or sick. The funk around here is out of this world.

As of now, K-Man officially contributes more to this household than I do.

Why I Don't Follow Politics

"In April 2005, USW President Gerard announced that the newly-merged USW's top political objective for the 2006 United States House of Representatives elections would be the ouster of Representative Tom DeLay."

Ha! This cracked me up. The United Steelworkers is this huge mega-union - that my potential future workplace represents - and when I came across this bit of wiki research I wondered what DeLay could have done to be the Number One target of metals, manufacturing, paper and forestry, chemicals, health care, pharmaceuticals, public employees, mining, and energy and utilities.

I was not prepared for the whole story. I thought DeLay was the run-of-the-mill corrupt $-skimming politician; but in fact, the man is Hilter. There isn't a single sin he missed, as a flunkie, tax-evader, earth-hater, alcoholic, adulterer, born-again Christian, family-betrayer, strong-arm intimidator, arts-hater, Russia/Cuba sell-out, perjurer, pro-lifer, intelligent-designer, power-abuser, and finally, my favorite, hypocrite.

Knowing that Hilter is running your country could keep a person awake at night. At least it's all over now. As far as I know.

Name Calling

Ever notice that no matter how many great insults you hear, when the time comes to put them into use, you can never think of the perfect one? In the interest of building up a handier vocabulary, I thought I should start writing down the ones I like when I see them, and committing them to heart so that they'll roll off the tongue when the occassion is right. Contributions are encouraged. The ones I can think of now at the top of my head are generic, names I'd like to use more often overall, but it's my experience that the more specific, the better.

cocksucker
buttmuncher
carpetmuncher
fudgepacker
numbnuts
pinhead
bonehead
goon
chump
turd
flunkie
wanker
pimple popper
pizzaface
slack-jawed yokel
chickenfucker

Hm, on second thought maybe these are more homophobic than generic.