Blue Plastic Coffee

I worked most of the weekend again. Friday night until some ungodly hour, like what, 2:30 AM? And then Saturday from 1 PM until 3 AM. It's just ridiculous the lengths to which I will go in order to earn a buck or two. Well, I got rent paid for April. That's good news I suppose.

This day job is killing me, though. Aside from the ignorant white men, the place is like a sauna. OK, it's March now, it has been rainy for a while now, but that's no reason to pump up the heat in the place, you know? And there's no air circulation. So, is it a wonder why it's so hard sometimes for me to keep my eyes open? The monotony of the work, the banal chatter, the oppresive air quality all make for excellent napping conditions. Just clear your throat gently, and I'll wake up. No need to touch me or anything.

And then, on top of all of the other crap I deal with, I get these e-mails, or what I thought were comments to posts I had made. When I saw the name of the sender (which I will not repeat here), I thought, "oh great! Another reader!" But no, there were thirty-five e-mails from this person, and each message said "blue plastic coffee." Every single one of them. Now, what on earth could that possibly mean? If you're going to spam me, please don't give me spam that makes me think. It's terribly annoying.

That's all. Happy Monday.

Friday

What was...

1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
   Mrs. Emmerich. I was in a combined first-second grade class, multi-talented or something gifted, and then the same for third-fourth grade, but with Ms. ("Blonde Bombshell") Vlaming, who used to bring her guitar and sing for us, and then I was only there for third grade. There was a song that she used to sing about a cat, and I wish to hell I could remember it because I want to learn how to play it. It was a funny song, but I think the cat dies or something like that. The more I think of it, the more I think it's "Smelly Cat," but I know it's not. Anyway, first grade was Mrs. Emmerich at Oak View Elementary School in Bolingbrook, Illinois, 1977-ish, before it burned down. When I was in third grade, I'll never forget waking up in the middle of the night with my parents looking out my bedroom window over the roofs of the other houses at the bright, orange glow of my school on fire. We moved to Iowa later that year anyway, and that was that. Back in first grade, Mrs. Emmerich brought her mother in to visit us once. Being an artist, her mother taught us how to draw cats, a talent I have to this day (see below). Meow.

   
   

2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
   I always loved the Looney Tunes. They are the best cartoons ever and still.
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
   Kirk West, also of Bolingbrook, Illinois. His mother was Linda. She had long platinum blond hair, straight as a line, and she drove a Pacer.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
   Frosted Flakes, Fruity Pebbles, Frankenberry.
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
   Run home and watch the Superfriends!

So, I was out "sick" for two days. I get back today to find two e-mails from two different people requesting help. I wrote them back explaining that I was out of the office and asking if they had been helped by now. You know, might it have occurred to them to seek other assistance if they couldn't get through to me? Apparently not, because both men wrote back saying that they hadn't been helped, it's two days later, they're now behind schedule, and it's all my fault, blah, blah, blah. So, because I have 18 days left of this mess, and because I have nothing to lose, I replied that they should stop slapping their dicks on the table because we don't change our rules for them, and if they want expedited help, they should go through the proper channels like nice little boys do, and then they should think about getting the fuck over themselves. And one other thing: BITE ME.

The Cat Came Back

Thank you, Mizjain. That was it. And thank God for the Internet...and Safari...cause all I had to do was type in the name of the song, and there were the lyrics I was looking for.

I'm a wanderer...from here to outer space

I took a mini road trip on Saturday. Roommate and I used to live in Monterey, as I'm sure I've said a couple times before, and every once in a while, we get the urge to go for a visit. Nothing special, no plans, just in and out, no one knows the better. So we hopped in the car on Saturday morning and drove the excruciating hour and a half down to MoCo and had a great day. It was sunny and warm. The ocean was clear and blue. The tide was out and we enjoyed the tide pools in Pacific Grove. It is always a little weird for me to go back there just because I lived there for so long, you know? Eight years is a significant amount of time to spend in one place. Part of me wanted to stay there or even move back there, and then the rest of me said "wake the fuck up and go home!" I think if I ever had a lot of money to spend on a small cottage in Pacific Grove, I would do so in a second. But only if...

So after we watched the sunset on Marina Beach, we drove up to Santa Cruz. The first time I ever went to Santa Cruz was in April 1990. The town had just been devastated by the Loma Prieta earthquake. It was about six months afterwards, and most of Pacific Street was closed off, in ruins. And that's how I remember Santa Cruz. To this day, I still think of fences and gates blocking off the road instead of what has sprouted up in its place. It's a fully rejuvinated main drag now, full of college kids from UC Santa Cruz, street performers, and tourists like me. We dawdled around for a while. I found an awesome 500-page book full of cookie recipes at one of the bookstores there for only $10. I was so excited at that, and I don't know why that's important now.

We left around 10pm and drove up Highway 1 toward San Francisco. The (mostly) full moon was out, and the road was fairly empty. It was a beautiful night to drive. We stopped along the way at one of the state beaches and listened to the ocean for a while. I could listen to the roar of the ocean forever. It's the most unobtrusive noise, so soothing and relaxing. When I lived in Monterey and Carmel, I could hear the waves crashing on the beaches from my apartment, and it was the best way to fall asleep...or wake up for that matter.

Sunday was spent. And now it's Monday. Gotta go. (Seventeen days left.)

Trabajo.

1. Old Navy :: Morgan Fairchild
2. Out :: and Proud
3. Indecent :: always
4. UPN :: Star Trek: Enterprise
5. Pupil :: eyes
6. Toothpaste :: Crest
7. 1999 :: Party like it's...
8. Passion :: fruit
9. Social security :: what's that?
10. Cliff :: Sea

I worked all weekend again. Let's face it, I'm a glutton for punishment, and I want to be regarded as someone who will come through in a pinch. Just ask, and I'll be there. And where does that get me? On a plane to England. I'm busting my ass to get to a very special occasion in a couple of weeks, and I'm really praying and crossing my fingers that there will be enough to get me there and back. I'm thinkin' there will be by now. I am so excited!!

But it wasn't so sure a couple of days ago. I was really spitting nails and all of those euphemisms for saying that I was totally fucking pissed, wigging out like you wouldn't believe. I was doing the math, and it wasn't adding up like I thought it was, and then I realized that I'm no mathematician, and duh, you have to carry the one and all that jazz. Whatever. Long story short, I almost cancelled my plans for the trip. But after the last couple of days, I am there come hell or waters high. Big kiss. Mwah.

And during my Thursday slump, I decided that I would take a trip to England in September...September 18 through October 3, 2004, that is. It's about six months away, and I should have plenty o' time to get the trip all set up. I've got my itinerary all picked out. I'm going North for a few days (if I'll be received), je passerai la fin de la semaine à Paris (weeeeeeeeee), and then a few days in the London area, visiting Kent in particular. I have finally realized that it really is necessary to plan for trips like this in your life. Without goals or vacations, life is way too dull and depressing. So I'm going to spend more time traveling. I'm not going to take a trip every month, mind you. But I am shooting for more exciting things to do. After England, I really must go to Hawaii. I've never been there, and I want to see the volcanos and real live lava. Plus they have nice beaches, or so I've heard. Maui wowie.

But, until then, I'll be working my big, white ass off. So if I don't write in very often, or if all you see are these stupid memes, just assume that I'm working, and maybe one day you'll see me walking down the streets of where you live.

TGIF

If you...

1. ...owned a restaurant, what kind of food would you serve?
   Comfort foods, especially those that are high in carbs and proteins. Make people happy once in a while, you know?
2. ...owned a small store, what kind of merchandise would you sell?
   I would love to own an old-fashioned candy store, with fresh salt water taffy and a soda fountain. Back when I wanted to be a chef, I had a dream of one day owning and running my own little bakery. I still think that would be cool. I love the smell of baking bread.
3. ...wrote a book, what genre would it be?
   Satire. Melodrama. Romantic comedy. I could probably even write pulp fiction romance novels. Seems I can only fantasize about sex anymore.
4. ...ran a school, what would you teach?
   Foreign languages, common sense, how to spell and use punctuation, etiquette, politeness and manners, how to be good and kind to each other and still remain strangers, how to make up your own mind without following others or the media, you know, the important stuff.
5. ...recorded an album, what kind of music would be on it?
   I'll pass on this one. Although the singer in me would love to do a bunch of standards that perhaps aren't as standard as they ought to be.

Happy Vernal Equinox

I gave my notice at the audit firm yesterday. In case you can't see me, I'm doing a little happy dance. The shackles are falling. Friday is my last day. And, as expected, I'm working today in the publishing firm, but that's OK. I spent the morning outside in the sun, so I got my charge of Vitamin D for the day. I watched a very interesting little British vampire series last night called "Ultraviolet." I thought it was very cool indeed. And any excuse to leer at Jack Davenport is a good one, n'est-ce pas? I think tomorrow I'll make cookies.

Earthstinks

No, I'm not talking about our planet, dear. I'm referring to my awful ISP, Earthlink. I spent (read: wasted) my whole Sunday, my only day off, trying to fix my lousy DSL connection. For three years, I have suffered through a 384 Kbps connection speed with their excuses piling up from "it's a best ditch effort" (whatever that means) to a remarkably unbelievable "it's always on, isn't it?" So, though they never guarantee a certain connection speed, they offer rates as high as 1.5 Mbps. I've never been able to get higher than 350 Kbps, and I only live 5,000 feet from the nearest switching office, about a third of the limit for DSL. I've complained and complained, and no one seems to give a shit. And because I don't have cable TV, cable broadband is not possible right now, although I've heard plenty of horror stories about that, too.

So, finally, tired of wasting all of this money on a line that doesn't work as advertised, I wasted a Sunday trying to get it fixed. I sat on hold for large parts of hours. I talked with irresponsible tech support people who didn't know what the fuck they were doing on their end and who had to be coaxed into giving me direction by noneother than moi-même. I rebooted, power-cycled the modem, disconnected this, reconnected that, and at the end of the mess, Covad finally stepped up to the plate and admitted that there was a fault in the line on our end of the connection, and that they would have to come out to the site to fix it, which is what they're doing this afternoon. So, while I'm here at my fifth-to-the-last day at this place, Roommate is working from home to wait for the repairman to come by and fix the line. I can only pray, at this time, that they'll get it fixed for good, 'cause this bitch is tired (read: motherfuckingpissedoff) at having to deal with this any longer.

So, that's all. How are you?

A Day Late (see previous post)

1. Wife :: Huh?
2. Criminal :: Smooth
3. Campaign :: for the Future
4. Infection :: Bactine
5. Portland :: Oregon
6. NASCAR :: Oddly fascinating.
7. IMAX :: Really big.
8. Martian :: Chronicles
9. Nike :: No, thanks.
10. Trial :: by Fire.

Smile!

You're on my candid camera!

I got me a new phone today. I finally made the purchase. If you'll recall, my other phone was drowned/smashed/lost/all of the above. So now I can take pictures, too! I never intended to buy a phone with a camera, but something possessed me to do just that. Let's see what I can come up with.

My last day at the temp job was Thursday. I was sent home early on Wednesday (at 11:30 a.m. early), and then Thursday at 2:30 p.m. She told me that I should probably not come in on Friday because there just wasn't any work to do. That's OK. I understand. Really I do. Yeah, cheers, thanks a lot.

I'm doing a training session at a client on Tuesday and Wednesday. Not exactly looking forward to that. It's Word and template training, stuff I know like the back of my hand, but it's still boring. I should be glad that it will be so easy. I just hope I don't come across as being an arrogant asshole about it. I have a tendency to be so when I'm not happy about what I'm doing. I'll try to remember to smile. That's the hard part.

Thursday I leave for my trip. I'm so totally excited. And if I can, I'll buy a Bluetooth adapter for my Pismo so I can use the new mobile as a modem so I can post here while I'm there...and avoid the nasty hotel phone charges. I'll pay $35 to save that and more on phone charges at the hotel. I'm cheap, OK? No, strike that. I'm saving my pennies so I can go to England in September. Did I mention that?

Then when I get back on Tuesday, I'll start my new contract job in Palo Alto. Another 50-mile commute. But it will be good work this time.

I volunteered at Barbara Boxer's re-election campaign office over the weekend. Please, if you're of voting age and a resident of California, please vote in November. I rarely ever preach about politics, but I'm so completely pissed off at the current government and what they're doing to this country that I can't help myself this year.

I honestly don't understand how anyone in their right minds could possibly find a worthwhile reason to re-elect (or whatever) the incumbent leader of our country. He's a complete moron, and frankly nothing that John Kerry could do to this country would be worse than what Shrub has already done and will continue to do if re-elected. Please vote with your head and not because your friends tell you to and not because the media coerces you to. Get educated on the facts, read between the lines, don't believe everything you read anyway, and pay attention. This is so important now. I don't know if it's just because I myself have been paying attention recently or not, but it seems like this election year is more critical than any other we've had in a very long time. I just hope and pray that things will be better in January 2005. And that's all I'll say. Promise.

Keep with next

The first set of training is over. I'm sorry if I bored anyone, but hey, talking about the difference between section breaks and page breaks, or when to use non-breaking spaces is pretty dry stuff. Even I don't like talking about it all day long. Tomorrow is using templates and great stuff like that. Woo. Hoo. Please. Someone. Make it stop. I can't handle the excitement.

That's all. Très exciting, I know.