- Nikki Sixx sez, “We’re here to destroy the world.” You know, if he had done a better job the first time around, he could just be here to relax.
- But the world is where I keep my stuff!
- Sorry, I got the live-action Tick DVDs out of the library last weekend, and they made me miss the cartoon. So there will be references.
- Good ol’ crazy Fiona Apple. I can’t wait to see what she does next: she’s always good for a wacked-out awards show moment.
- I thought Tom Petty was anti-Clear Channel? Or is he just anti high cd prices? I’m so confused by this giant 2 page ad about him from Clear Channel.
- This is one of the strangest things about Billboard: there are always these giant “thank you” or “congratulations” ads. Feels like a goddam high school yearbook.
- ”Ringo—I always wish I could have gotten to know you better. Have a great summer!—Steve M.”
- Who wants to hazard a guess as to which Steve (or Steven, or Stephen) M would write such a note to Ringo? It’ll be a fun game.
- My only friends are grown-up nerds like Gore Vidal.
- Oh, this Petty ad is actually 3 pages.
- Ginormous is my new favorite word.
- Fiona’s sheer dark purple shirt is cute. I’m loving how everywhere dark purple is this fall.
- Aw, Franz Ferdinand. So cute, and so deeply gay.
- ”Nickelback frontman [complete w/icky picture] is pleased with the diversity of the hit band’s new album.”
- Um, I’m going to go back to staring at Franz Ferdinand some more.
- mmm, smoothy smooth
- Everyone must read And Then He Ate My Boy Entrancers. There’s a bit where Georgia has borrowed her father’s brandnew razor to shave her legs. For the next few pages, during her descriptions of her father cutting his face to shreds with his now-no-longer-brandnew razor, she keeps interrupting with “mmm, smoothy smooth” and it’s real funny.
- boring, boring, boring
- Here’s an article called “After Kate Moss: Will Artists Know Better?”
- and no, I’m not going to go off about the Kate Moss thing
- Except to say this: I fucking dare you to find me a more coked-out man than John Galliano.
- And what’s all over Kate’s leg in this picture? It looks like she fell in some sandy mud last night, and didn’t wash that part of her thigh.
- You know, normally I’m pretty apathetic about Nascar. I really don’t care about the zoomy and the bright colors. But when you start letting Scott Stapp be a part of your sport, that’s when you invite the Jessy hate.
- Even if the fan of the week a couple weeks ago was a YA librarian, which is pretty damn cool.
- Heineken is funding some sort of urban renewal project, turning abandoned warehouses and such into music venues, recording studios, etc. That’s pretty cool.
- I don’t see PBR doing any of that shit.
- Aw, The Grey Album shoutout. Cute li’l DJ Danger Mouse.
- Oh, they’re talking about university venues like, I saw Lauren Hill at OSU’s stadium-thing, not like, I saw Low in a classroom. Oops.
- Good show, though. Dean Wareham Boy was there, and I was too busy staring at his ass to notice that the girl in front of him, in the kickass KoolAid shirt, was my friend Meleah.
- True story!
- I wonder what Meleah’s doing now…Last I heard, she was in Montana.
- Also funny: just about everytime I go back home, I see DWB. This isn’t hard, since he lives in Squirrel Hill (Tiff looked up his address one day, but I don’t know if he’s still in that apt) and I spend a lot of time in Squirrel Hill, between the Cage, Jerry’s, and running errands with Mom. He always gives me this look, like, Don’t I know you from somewhere?
- And I always want to respond, I look familiar because my friend was stalking you for a good part of the 2000-2001 school year.
- But I don’t, because then we look crazy.
- Which we’re not.
- Right?
- I’m not going to read the rest of this article about TV shows and new music, b/c they mentioned Six Feet Under, and we all know what happened and how upset I got the last time Six Feet Under was mentioned in this magazine.
- I really need that new Franz Ferdinand record.
- Santa? You out there?
- How ‘bout you, Chanukah Bubbe?
- Steve Earle has written a play.
- or Chara or Gwar I could sell you tomorrow
- Just bring me back my girlfriend.
- Ooo, there’s going to be a DualDisc for the Franz Ferdinand.
- That’s what I want.
- Whose mall Santa-esque lap should I prepare to sit on for this?
- Hey, Danny’s mentioned in here.
- Ahh, the never-ending source of entertainment that is My Morning Jacket pieces full of old news…
- Li’l Kim’s got Michael Jackson-itis, I think. Except instead of wanting to look like Bambi (at least, I hope that’s what Michael was going for, b/c it’s what he’s got), she looks like Black Barbie.
- Didn’t Black Barbie have a different name? What was it?
- Damn, that’s going to bother me now.
- Rolling Stones have gotten a song on “Days of Our Lives”. The way they phrased this news item, I originally thought the Stones themselves would be on the show. And that’s much, much cooler.
- Now I wanna see Bowie on “Passions”.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
I saw a punkrock show in a car garage.
October 8, 2005. Billboard Magazine.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
So, apparently, it's Google and you can win stuff?
I'm such a sucker. Either that, or I'll do whatever Raj's blog tells me.
You’ve made it pretty clear what you like; it’s only fair to tell you now.
I was going to title this “heavy words are so lightly thrown,” but I thought that was a bit excessive, even for me.
I had a couple minor moments towards the end of last week that have, despite their tinyness, kinda stuck in my craw. Perhaps I should have said something at the time instead of, you know, blasting it all over the damn internet (with my vast, vast readership), but: tiny. And when they occurred, it wasn’t really the time/place to discuss.
That’s the problem with tiny moments that stick and irritate: they’re too small, the conversation goes past, or someone else is there so you can’t bring them up without looking petty, but then you’re thinking about them almost a week later, and kind of look like you’re holding a grudge.
Which I’m not, by the way.
Also, at the time, I figured, why bring down what was actually a pretty amazing week, what with crush action, free dinner from other, much more well-known (and deservedly so) YA librarians, and Humor the Speech Team Whale?
Moment I:
I’ve got this neighbor. Actually, I’ve got many friendly neighbors, but most of them don’t have a copy of Different Class for me to borrow. We were friends before he moved onto my block, with what seem like 10-15 other guys. Sometimes we see each other out, but mostly we hang out in my living room, talking about movies or records.
This kid is one of those boys who mentions his girlfriend A LOT. Which, you know, I understand that, for most people, the person they’re romantically involved in is the most important person in their lives. So lots of stories. Sometimes, though, it just serves to remind me of how different I am from a lot of the girls in this town. The first time I met this kid, the first time he mentioned his girlfriend, it was to express surprise that I knew about some band or another, because she didn’t. Other male friend I was with concurred, that his last girl had not known much about music either.
This boy has been known to mention his girl in the first sentence he says to near-strangers, as well. And I think we’re fairly good friends at this point.
So then why, the other day when I was sitting on my stoop, reading my mail, did this happen?
Boy pulls up, yells a greeting from across the street, we have a very short conversation while I notice that a girl (presumably his girlfriend) gets out of another car and they go up into his apartment. With no introductions.
Not only do I find it irritating to not be introduced to a friend’s significant other (which of us doesn’t merit the intro, anyway?), I can’t help but wonder what girl thinks. Now, I’m not the jealous sort at all, but, were I that kind of girl, and my boy greeted his cutegirlneighbor with familiarity but didn’t have me meet her, I would find it a little suspicious, whether the suspicion was merited or not (I don’t need to say that it isn’t, do I? Cause it’s not.)
Plus, it used to really piss me off when Andy would do that to me. And he kinda did it a lot, though he usually followed up with an apology: “Sorry, I forgot her name.”
Moment II:
We’re at the fauxdinerDenny’s. Melissa has gone on home. I’m left with Shane and his friend. Somewhere around here, there’s an argument about which end of Pennsylvania David Lynch went to school in.* Then, mostly out of nowhere, Shane brings up locally produced zombie comics and the boys that produce them. Specifically, how I know one of them. And I still can’t tell: was this name-dropping on my behalf, meant to impress our booth partner? Hell, if I can’t impress anyone on my own, Zombie Policy #2 is probably the last name I’ll drop. But, let’s face it, when’s the last time I went out of my way to impress someone? If just being my darling self doesn’t cut it, fuck ‘em.
Or was it gentle teasing that missed its mark?
And I don’t write about this because I want it to become a big thing. Quite the opposite. I’m not calling anybody out, including myself. No one needs to apologize, or defend themselves. This was a minor moment, that was weird. I wrote a blog post about it. This is where the story ends, folks.
Now, who wants to see a picture of Humor the Speech Team Whale drink coffee out of a non-penis-shaped straw?
*Which, and I know I said this at the time, but I think it bears repeating:
I went to film school in Pittsburgh, partially at the equipment co-op that was up-and-running by the time Lynch would have been there.
I was in the goddam Twin Peaks Club.
Had Lynch had anything to do with Pittsburgh, at any point, I think I would know.
Hey, it’s a wide state, with a big East-West rivalry. Philadelphia doesn’t count.
I had a couple minor moments towards the end of last week that have, despite their tinyness, kinda stuck in my craw. Perhaps I should have said something at the time instead of, you know, blasting it all over the damn internet (with my vast, vast readership), but: tiny. And when they occurred, it wasn’t really the time/place to discuss.
That’s the problem with tiny moments that stick and irritate: they’re too small, the conversation goes past, or someone else is there so you can’t bring them up without looking petty, but then you’re thinking about them almost a week later, and kind of look like you’re holding a grudge.
Which I’m not, by the way.
Also, at the time, I figured, why bring down what was actually a pretty amazing week, what with crush action, free dinner from other, much more well-known (and deservedly so) YA librarians, and Humor the Speech Team Whale?
Moment I:
I’ve got this neighbor. Actually, I’ve got many friendly neighbors, but most of them don’t have a copy of Different Class for me to borrow. We were friends before he moved onto my block, with what seem like 10-15 other guys. Sometimes we see each other out, but mostly we hang out in my living room, talking about movies or records.
This kid is one of those boys who mentions his girlfriend A LOT. Which, you know, I understand that, for most people, the person they’re romantically involved in is the most important person in their lives. So lots of stories. Sometimes, though, it just serves to remind me of how different I am from a lot of the girls in this town. The first time I met this kid, the first time he mentioned his girlfriend, it was to express surprise that I knew about some band or another, because she didn’t. Other male friend I was with concurred, that his last girl had not known much about music either.
This boy has been known to mention his girl in the first sentence he says to near-strangers, as well. And I think we’re fairly good friends at this point.
So then why, the other day when I was sitting on my stoop, reading my mail, did this happen?
Boy pulls up, yells a greeting from across the street, we have a very short conversation while I notice that a girl (presumably his girlfriend) gets out of another car and they go up into his apartment. With no introductions.
Not only do I find it irritating to not be introduced to a friend’s significant other (which of us doesn’t merit the intro, anyway?), I can’t help but wonder what girl thinks. Now, I’m not the jealous sort at all, but, were I that kind of girl, and my boy greeted his cutegirlneighbor with familiarity but didn’t have me meet her, I would find it a little suspicious, whether the suspicion was merited or not (I don’t need to say that it isn’t, do I? Cause it’s not.)
Plus, it used to really piss me off when Andy would do that to me. And he kinda did it a lot, though he usually followed up with an apology: “Sorry, I forgot her name.”
Moment II:
We’re at the fauxdinerDenny’s. Melissa has gone on home. I’m left with Shane and his friend. Somewhere around here, there’s an argument about which end of Pennsylvania David Lynch went to school in.* Then, mostly out of nowhere, Shane brings up locally produced zombie comics and the boys that produce them. Specifically, how I know one of them. And I still can’t tell: was this name-dropping on my behalf, meant to impress our booth partner? Hell, if I can’t impress anyone on my own, Zombie Policy #2 is probably the last name I’ll drop. But, let’s face it, when’s the last time I went out of my way to impress someone? If just being my darling self doesn’t cut it, fuck ‘em.
Or was it gentle teasing that missed its mark?
And I don’t write about this because I want it to become a big thing. Quite the opposite. I’m not calling anybody out, including myself. No one needs to apologize, or defend themselves. This was a minor moment, that was weird. I wrote a blog post about it. This is where the story ends, folks.
Now, who wants to see a picture of Humor the Speech Team Whale drink coffee out of a non-penis-shaped straw?
*Which, and I know I said this at the time, but I think it bears repeating:
I went to film school in Pittsburgh, partially at the equipment co-op that was up-and-running by the time Lynch would have been there.
I was in the goddam Twin Peaks Club.
Had Lynch had anything to do with Pittsburgh, at any point, I think I would know.
Hey, it’s a wide state, with a big East-West rivalry. Philadelphia doesn’t count.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
I work hard for the $$, so you better treat me right.
First, the scariest thing in my office:
Seriously, what the fuck is this thing? My best guess is some sort of "I know an old lady who swallowed a fly"-related game.
Perhaps I'll die; yeah when this thing comes to life and EATS ME.
Second, another tale of the out-of-touch high school librarian I'm forced to work with.
He's doing his freshmen school library orientations this week, and, like last year, I'm going and doing my little song and dance. I was early today (got confused, times-wise) and had to sit through an extremely boring, poorly executed tutorial on using the library.
Here are some highlights:
When I first got there, one of the reader's club kids (and a somewhat regular of mine) walked up, chatted with me a little, leaned back in her chair, and proceeded to fall back, scattering her crutches, etc. Poor girl is pretty embarrassed at this point, so I just let her be as she fixes the ace bandage on her previously injured foot.
However! Librarian and teacher rush over, making girl even more of a focal point for entire room of 9th graders than she already is. At which point, after ascertaining that girl isn't seriously hurt and doesn't think she needs to go to the nurse's office, librarian says to teacher, perfectly audibly yet over girl's head, "Do you think we should send her anyway, for liability?"
Yeesh.
Seriously, what the fuck is this thing? My best guess is some sort of "I know an old lady who swallowed a fly"-related game.
Perhaps I'll die; yeah when this thing comes to life and EATS ME.
Second, another tale of the out-of-touch high school librarian I'm forced to work with.
He's doing his freshmen school library orientations this week, and, like last year, I'm going and doing my little song and dance. I was early today (got confused, times-wise) and had to sit through an extremely boring, poorly executed tutorial on using the library.
Here are some highlights:
- a discussion of the internet and search tools that did not mention Google
- a namedrop of Coldplay, followed by an admission to a room of 14yrolds that he didn't know who Coldplay was, followed by calling them a rap group, followed by me calling out, "They're terrible!"
When I first got there, one of the reader's club kids (and a somewhat regular of mine) walked up, chatted with me a little, leaned back in her chair, and proceeded to fall back, scattering her crutches, etc. Poor girl is pretty embarrassed at this point, so I just let her be as she fixes the ace bandage on her previously injured foot.
However! Librarian and teacher rush over, making girl even more of a focal point for entire room of 9th graders than she already is. At which point, after ascertaining that girl isn't seriously hurt and doesn't think she needs to go to the nurse's office, librarian says to teacher, perfectly audibly yet over girl's head, "Do you think we should send her anyway, for liability?"
Yeesh.
Monday, September 26, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
took him to my party as the games were starting
I've had that song stuck in my head all week. Billboard, Sept 24.
- I'm really not caring about this issue, which will either make this very blah or very bitchy.
- I already spent most of today with the new issue of VOYA, and the latest Booklist--with the cover art for Julie Anne Peters' Far From Xanadu as a cover!--is staring at me.
- Far From Xanadu = a really good book, by the way.
- Depeche Mode is using iTunes to sell tickets for their tour.
- Also, Marissa tells me the new DM song does, in fact, kick ass.
- Um, I know I'm a librarian and supposed to know all kinds of shit, but what's Jack FM? This article is acting like I'm a big stupid head for not knowing.
- Aw, Jools Holland.
- Can anyone think of a good song with the word "bird" in the title? All I'm coming up with right now is "I'm Like a Bird" and, well, ew.
- While it makes me angry when Gwen Stefani shows up in her crazy "style icon!" outfits, it makes me even angrier when she looks cute.
- Reminds me of what could be, perhaps?
- She's looking adorable and pin-up girly in a leopard with white trim halter dress, black heels, and her hair all slicked back, probably chignoned, very Dior New Look makeup.
- boring issue
- Plus, I'm talking about boys and moms with Melissa and girls and Earth Wind and Fire-playing marching bands with Brian, and it's hard to compete with all that, yes?
- Oh, Tom Petty's looking BEAT.
- Ah, there's Gwen in an ill-thought-through ensemble again. That's my girl.
- OK, I get the layout trick of having people pictures look like backstage passes, but I'm wondering at the attention paid to the placement. Too many rockstars and big time music execs with holes in their forheads, magazine.
- Hey, Earth Wind and Fire! Weird.
- Looking even assier than Petty, I might add.
- Almost as assy as Assy the Ass Dog, in fact.
- Assy the Ass Dog was a little toy dog Greg, Jim, Alison, and I found outside Jason Kirker's house on the SouthSide one day. Its ass is in the air, and its head is turned in the scariest little plastic come-hither look since Barbie started opening her eyes all the damn way.
- Gretchen Wilson, your shirt is way too small. And as someone who frequently wears children's clothing, I should know.
- Look, Bon Jovi: just stop. Stop. Please. For me?
- I'll be your best friend?
- Well, that's not true.
- How 'bout this, Jon?
- I'll Twister ya for your career.
- If you win, you can do whatever the fuck you want, make battery commercials, whatever. I'll make a serious attempt not to mock, even.
- If I win, you go back to Jersey and shut your pie hole.
- Agreed?
- Have your people call my people...uh, cats, and we'll set up a meeting.
- You have to bring the Twister board, though.
- And the snacks.
- Do they make truck falafel where you are? Bring that. And some Jones Vanilla Cola.
- Or you could stop in Pittsburgh, and bring me some Hong Kong rice bowl from Lulu's.
- With pork.
- Destiny's Child members are finally letting themselves be referred to as "former Destiny's Child members"--it's about time.
- Um, Tyra, what does "embrace the mystery" mean?
- Does it involve your giant-ass forehead in some way?
- And yes, I can mock the text of a shirt whose proceeds went to Katrina victims. I'm mocking the phrase, not the profits.
- Aw, Queen Latifah. She's so pretty. And she always looks glowy, you know?
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
met him in a bar/said I know who you are
I have a few executive items to clear up.
***
Somehow, my car payment never made it to the bank this month. I had to put a stop payment on a check, which I'm PRAYING is the right one, since there's a bit of confusion in my register. Otherwise, Sprint and the car people are going to be mad at me. I hate it when I'm responsible and things fuck up anyway. I also hate it when the bank charges me $10 for shit that isn't my fault (for once). So, if you are reading this and I owe you a present, it may be a bit late. But you were expecting that, anyway, weren't you?
(That's for Tiff. As far as I know--and believe me, I would know--Lara is not a Perks reader. She's also more demanding about gifts.)
Speaking of presents, I'm going to be attempting to make things this year. If you're the sort of person I give things to, and have something that I might be able to make in mind, let me know and I'll see what I can do.
Some of you it may be too late for, and you'll just have to like what you get, you ungrateful jerks.
***
Tree is too big for international travel, it was decided. Instead, my small plush triceratops (I named him Fisher the other day) is making the journey. I realized what a good thing this was last night, when I decided to read under the covers. What would I have done without Tree's neck-pillowy goodness?
***
There's been talk floating around the internet lately about my craptacular Friday night. (I love how I can take MySpace, a few Philadelphia-directed emails, some New England IMing, and Melissa's blog and turn them into "The Internet".) I had this whole thing set up, we came up with a fitting insult (Log Cabin Republican, if you're interested), but I just can't carry a grudge all like that.
Unless you're this girl Meisha I went to elementary and high school with. I still hate that bitch. And you really, really don't want to know what set it off. I have few enough friends as is.
Suffice to say, should have been hanging out with one boy. Didn't. Met an asshole.
I say, your problem with my intelligence, appearance, or attitude is not my problem.
The thing that really kills me about this guy, so much so that I'm still going on about it almost a week later when I could be composing my literary crush list or thinking about my actual crush or something, is that, before he turned into Asshole (TM), I was making a concerted effort to not be JessyJudgemental (as he was wearing a sweater and shorts and exhibiting a Mustang logo lookin tattoo, this was HARD) and to be JessyCharming ("Look, they have little stars on the corners!").
Just one quote, then I'll go onto the next item: "Why would anyone go to the library on the weekend?" followed by surprise and disbelief at the idea of people who don't have home computers or internet access.
Ass. Hole.
Who then (sorry, I'm on a roll now and there's still about half an hour til the RunescapeRush), at a different bar, after I was all snug in my bed, visions of kids without internet access dancing in my head, proceeds to bitch about me. To Melissa. And ask for my number.
***
Saturday was a good day, despite working, overanalyzing and jumping to (incorrect) boy conclusions, and falling into bed before 11:30. 18 kids at the anime program! And I learned how to knit in the dark.
Well, reasonably well.
Now I can't decide: do I buy more of the blue cotton yarn to finish the scarf I was working on in the dark, which I think I would wear quite a bit, or do I get completely new stuff, to expand my skill set a bit? And start on seasonably to-be-given-away stuff?
***
I've got 3 days off this weekend, and if I'm not done with that purse at the end of it, someone's gonna pay.
***
I've got these anecdotes that I forget who I've told, so I'm just going to put them on the internet and be done with it. For example, expect to see the Story of the Movie I Helped Twin Peaks Adam Make at some point.
But this is a different tale. And a shorter one.
Last year, when I was looking for library jobs, I used to check out the Special Library Assocation's job listings. (In MLS-land, we call any libraries that aren't academic, public, or school "special". They're not retarded; they're just weird.) This includes jobs like Lexmark's corporate librarian or you know how at the end of Weekend Edition they thank the librarians? Stuff like that.
Fox News listed jobs there, too. There was one that was quite tempting.
For a "Fact Writer".
When I read that listing, I got the greatest envisioning, of a bleak, former supply room somewhere, with all these posters of, like Clinton's face with a slash through it or lists of what constituted Facts.
Actually, in my head, Fox News HQ looked a lot like the workplace in Brazil. The movie, not the country.
***
Somehow, my car payment never made it to the bank this month. I had to put a stop payment on a check, which I'm PRAYING is the right one, since there's a bit of confusion in my register. Otherwise, Sprint and the car people are going to be mad at me. I hate it when I'm responsible and things fuck up anyway. I also hate it when the bank charges me $10 for shit that isn't my fault (for once). So, if you are reading this and I owe you a present, it may be a bit late. But you were expecting that, anyway, weren't you?
(That's for Tiff. As far as I know--and believe me, I would know--Lara is not a Perks reader. She's also more demanding about gifts.)
Speaking of presents, I'm going to be attempting to make things this year. If you're the sort of person I give things to, and have something that I might be able to make in mind, let me know and I'll see what I can do.
Some of you it may be too late for, and you'll just have to like what you get, you ungrateful jerks.
***
Tree is too big for international travel, it was decided. Instead, my small plush triceratops (I named him Fisher the other day) is making the journey. I realized what a good thing this was last night, when I decided to read under the covers. What would I have done without Tree's neck-pillowy goodness?
***
There's been talk floating around the internet lately about my craptacular Friday night. (I love how I can take MySpace, a few Philadelphia-directed emails, some New England IMing, and Melissa's blog and turn them into "The Internet".) I had this whole thing set up, we came up with a fitting insult (Log Cabin Republican, if you're interested), but I just can't carry a grudge all like that.
Unless you're this girl Meisha I went to elementary and high school with. I still hate that bitch. And you really, really don't want to know what set it off. I have few enough friends as is.
Suffice to say, should have been hanging out with one boy. Didn't. Met an asshole.
Cara sez: "I hate when guys who are stupider/less attractive think I should still talk to them as if I were some sort of polite human being. If you aren't good to look at OR good to talk to, please stand somewhere far away and don't bother me."
I say, your problem with my intelligence, appearance, or attitude is not my problem.
The thing that really kills me about this guy, so much so that I'm still going on about it almost a week later when I could be composing my literary crush list or thinking about my actual crush or something, is that, before he turned into Asshole (TM), I was making a concerted effort to not be JessyJudgemental (as he was wearing a sweater and shorts and exhibiting a Mustang logo lookin tattoo, this was HARD) and to be JessyCharming ("Look, they have little stars on the corners!").
Just one quote, then I'll go onto the next item: "Why would anyone go to the library on the weekend?" followed by surprise and disbelief at the idea of people who don't have home computers or internet access.
Ass. Hole.
Who then (sorry, I'm on a roll now and there's still about half an hour til the RunescapeRush), at a different bar, after I was all snug in my bed, visions of kids without internet access dancing in my head, proceeds to bitch about me. To Melissa. And ask for my number.
***
Saturday was a good day, despite working, overanalyzing and jumping to (incorrect) boy conclusions, and falling into bed before 11:30. 18 kids at the anime program! And I learned how to knit in the dark.
Well, reasonably well.
Now I can't decide: do I buy more of the blue cotton yarn to finish the scarf I was working on in the dark, which I think I would wear quite a bit, or do I get completely new stuff, to expand my skill set a bit? And start on seasonably to-be-given-away stuff?
***
I've got 3 days off this weekend, and if I'm not done with that purse at the end of it, someone's gonna pay.
***
I've got these anecdotes that I forget who I've told, so I'm just going to put them on the internet and be done with it. For example, expect to see the Story of the Movie I Helped Twin Peaks Adam Make at some point.
But this is a different tale. And a shorter one.
Last year, when I was looking for library jobs, I used to check out the Special Library Assocation's job listings. (In MLS-land, we call any libraries that aren't academic, public, or school "special". They're not retarded; they're just weird.) This includes jobs like Lexmark's corporate librarian or you know how at the end of Weekend Edition they thank the librarians? Stuff like that.
Fox News listed jobs there, too. There was one that was quite tempting.
For a "Fact Writer".
When I read that listing, I got the greatest envisioning, of a bleak, former supply room somewhere, with all these posters of, like Clinton's face with a slash through it or lists of what constituted Facts.
Actually, in my head, Fox News HQ looked a lot like the workplace in Brazil. The movie, not the country.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
