--Ken is no longer in my apartment, or my life at all. Especially now that I can't find him on Friendster to link to his blog and mock him. Consequently, there's a lot less grossness and whininess going on. More Ken to follow in my recap of Tiff and Jessy's FunTime ElectionNight 2000!
--I have a real job, kinda my dream job, not the coffee thing.
Actually, those 2 are so big I really don't feel the need to list anymore.
Tiff and Jessy's FunTime ElectionNight 2000!
I keep moving to type "nacht". Hmmm.
There was drinking. There was chain smoking, but only in the kitchen. The kitchen was also where, at both the graduation and Beauty Pageant parties, we tried to confine the non-clear beverages. That apartment had brand new beige carpeting. When we moved out, fucking over Ken and the landlords was more important to me than fighting for a piece of the security deposit. Ken didn't want people to smoke in the kitchen, "where we cooked," but that becomes a moot point when by "cooking" you mean defrosting and warming up broccoli mac'n'cheese in a push-up device. Also, his mom smoked all the time in the kitchen, and never cleaned out my souvenir Gettysburg ashtray.
There was watching of Angel, and just about anything else that wasn't election results, interrupted by election updates from Ken. Apparently who got to be President was something worth breaking into his internet cruising time, or sad gayboy chatting time, or straight-up porn watching time, or whatever. There is still photographic evidence of that night, black and white polaroids of the 3 of us wearing upside-down butterfly antenna, imitating Hasidic sidelocks. It was the Jew Veep Hat. You know, I'm still not sure why there was a butterfly headband construction paper thing on the coffee table.
Eventually, Tiffany and I went for a drive. A long drive. To Zelionople. Until 3 AM. Then I went home and (unlike Tiff, who turned on the TV to hear someone give the election to Bush) went straight to bed. Then I woke up the next morning to go make coffee in Squirrel Hill, which was nice because at least all of the customers were bleeding heart liberals, so we could commiserate.
I thought that that Tuesday night had been stressful, but that's nothing compared to today. Now we know what 4 years of Bush is like. Back then, it was just three kids (2 of them significantly less lame than the other) under some Pokemon lights in a Bloomfield kitchen, making crazy speculations. You know, I don't remember any of them, but I do know that none were as insane as Iraq, or the taxcut, or random no-checks-and-balances judge appointments.
Speaking of which, let's all send Rehnquist some get-well-soon vibes. Let's not think about what happens if he's not feeling well enough to hear a case concerning this election, because that's when the sitting president gets to appoint someone. Someone who doesn't have to be OKed by Congress until their next session. Can't we just put a thyroid cancer survivor in there temporarily? I nominate my mom.
Random work-related comment: it would be really nice if someone would outline when exactly I count the hour for lunch and when I don't. Of course, if that overtime law hadn't been passed, then I could have just said give me the extra money and not had to keep correcting my time card and have people act like I should know this. Seriously, last pay period, when I worked from 8 to 8 for that stupid program that only 2 kids came to, I've had three different conversations about shit I've done wrong on that timecard. And it's not like I don't ask people to make sure I'm doing things right.
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