Alicia and Jared were here this weekend. They came to see John Waters. Don't tell anyone but they don't actually go to Columbia. Shhhh! It was like sneaking underage kids into a bar.
Speaking of sneaking underage kids into bars, all my under 21 friends need to get some fakes by May 19th so you can come to my birthday party at Tequila Roadhouse. Free drinks for an hour!
Anyway, Alicia took on the identity of Ashley Marshall and Jared became Dani Eller and before we knew it we were sitting in the audience waiting for John Waters. Now, I'm not that big of a John Waters fan. Haven't seen much of his stuff. I loved Cecil B. Demented and Twigger and I quote A Dirty Shame constantly, but I haven't seen his old stuff. The stuff he's really known for. The gross transvestite eating dog shit kind of stuff. Alicia and Jared have, though. And they are big fans of it. So it was cool just to see them enjoy it. Plus the guy was funny. And gross. Real gross. Grosser than Marc, Libby, and Jess put together, if you can imagine.
From there we went to Tantrum since it was right around the corner. Had a couple drinks. It was fun. We caught up on stuff and talked. Mostly about TV. Actually, all about TV. It's sick I know but it's what Alicia and I do best. It's what our relationship is founded on. We're not those people that act like we don't watch TV or that we are better than it. I hate those people. They can blow me. They're lying too. Yeah, you say you don't ever watch tv but then for some reason you just HAPPEN to know that Svetlana got mad that she couldn't be the manager at the tanning place. Yeah, but you don't watch TV. But you saw that episode of Date My Mom yesterday. But you don't watch TV. But you own Sex and the City on DVD. But you don't watch TV.
I digress like it's my day job.
Saturday Jared had to leave early (funny story about that) and I met up with Alicia and her cousins and we went to the Andy Warhol exhbit at the MCA. It was small and kind of disappointing. Then we just bummed around for a while until Alicia had to go.
So here's the funny story. I have pink eye. No, that's not the funny part. But I'm not mad at you for laughing. I have pink eye, and really should be wearing my glasses and not contacts. But I don't have my glasses. I left them in my bathroom bag in Jared's car last time I was in Kalamazoo. So they brought it back for me this weekend. But Jared left early on Saturday...and took my fucking toiletries back with him. So still no glasses. It's kind of funny. Minus the pink eye.
I started reading Choke by Chuck Palahniuk which I have been meaning to read forl ike 5 months though. The guy works at a colonial theme park and everyone that works with him are sex freaks and drug addicts. It's a lot like what I was doing with Off the Clock so it's pretty entertaining.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Chapter 6: Soak Up The Sun
Twist & Shout died. Twice, actually. And I can say with absolute certainty that if they were to open again tomorrow...
...You better believe I'd go back. Getting paid to sit around and do nothing and eat free pretzels is well worth the lack of job security if you ask me.
Right before T&S closed, I had gone on vacation to California with Brent. We stayed with my aunt and uncle in Huntington Beach and had an awesome time. I mean...an AWESOME time. We'd ride our bikes downtown, go to the beach every day, go to LA, rollerblade, everything. Tons of fun. I guess that's kind of what led me to Pacific Sunwear.
Now, PacSun was not an easy job to get. It will go down in history as the hardest I had to try to get hired. Disney World was easier. I'm not even joking. I wanted this job. I wanted it bad. Cool clothes, cute girls, good hours. I needed it. And it was at a mall. I was 17. Working at malls was still cool. Now, I learned later on that I was not supposed to be hired. Nothing against me, but they were fully staffed. They didn't need anymore people. But I called and called and called and finally assistant manager Mark (down in history as one of the best bosses ever) gave in and interviewed me.
Things got a little sticky here. You see, my teacher, Mrs Laine, has a daughter who worked at PacSun. And I was privy to some information that I probably shouldn't have been privy to. Mostly, that the manager at Pacific Sunwear, Steph, was a huge and raging bitch. Now, I probably should have kept this little fact a secret. Especially to Mark. Especially during my interview. You'd think that having 5 jobs already I would have known better than to say "I hear the manager is a huge bitch!" in my interview. But baby, I don't play by the rules.
Luckily, Steph was promoted to District Manager, meaning she was no longer working at the store. However, Mark really seemed to enjoy the fact that I brought her up and how I heard bad things. Well, Mark told Katy. Mrs Laine's daughter. Katy yelled at her mom. Her mom yelled at me. Now not only was I getting yelled at in freaking SCHOOL for something I said in a job interview, but Katy was actively protesting my getting hired. Looks like I fucked that one up.
Or not. Mark seemed to like me, and Katy quit when she started college, so I got the job. Katy came back eventually. But after 3 weeks of ice cold silence we became good friends. We laugh about it now.
Now the biggest problem with Pacific Sunwear at Twelve Oaks was the fact that they couldn't find a manager. We had three, yes, three assistant managers, but no one person in charge. Now, logic would suggest that one of the three, yes, three assistant managers be promoted to manager. But for some reason or another, this never happened. In fact, for the 9 or so months that I was there, we only had a manager for the first few weeks. It was Dana. Everyone loved Dana. I didn't hate Dana. I know you expected me to. I mean, Duane and Stan certainly left me with a certain disdain for authority figures, but I couldn't hold that against Dana. There were just some things that got to me.
1. She didn't pronounce it like "Day-na," she said "Dan-ah" Which drove me nuts.
2. She was obnoxioulsy passive agressive at times. "You need to go to the bathroom? Hmmm I would have figured you got that done when you came in 10 minutes late..."
3. She often would insinuate that I was gay. "Pinapple and ham on pizza? I always thought that's what gay people liked..."
Don't get me wrong. Dana was alright. She didn't suck. But when she got offered a better job at J. Crew and took it, there were no tears here.
From then, Mark was kind of in charge. Basically he was the store manager in the sense that he made the schedule, dealt with pay, went through paperwork, and did everything else a store manager is responsible for. The difference is he didn't get paid extra for it. He was definitely bitter, which was entertaining. We liked working with Mark.
The other two managers were named Mike. Mike and Mike. Oh, I'm sorry. Michael and Mike. Michael was the closeted homosexual who liked to talk about his days as a successful model to anyone that would listen. Mike was...well. We'll get to Mike later on. I liked working with Mike. He was just as cool as Mark. At first.
So yes. My three bosses were Mark, Mike, and Michael. Huey, Dewey, and Luey.
I also worked with Katherine who was insane but in a hot way, Katie who had just moved from California and desperately trying to move back, Matt who I actually worked with at Twist & Shout, Anita who might still actually be working there, Sean who was either from South Africa or Australia and told me the best joke I've ever heard, Amanda who was there when things got shitty, and got me my next job (Chapter 7), and some other people I don't remember. Oh and Barb. Barb rocked. I hear she married Mike. Or was it Mark? Maybe it was Michael. Doubtful.
I liked working there. I guess it's hard to write hilarious stories about shitty things that happened because for the most part....shitty things didn't happen.
Until Pat.
Yeah. Just like every story has a villain, every retail store has a manager. Although I see Pat as the enemy, I also see him as the victim. The victim of circumstance. He was old. And the manager of a youth retail clothing store. Pretty shitty circumstance.
Pat had his own way of doing things. And he did not like when his employees went about them in a different fashion. Regardless of if the employees' ways were quicker, easier, more convenient, or more productive. If they were not his way, he resented it. I'd love to go into the whole drama of it, but it's the same as my other jobs before PacSun and my jobs after PacSun. Pat liked the new people, hated the old people. Old people hated Pat. I referred 2 people, Brent and Sara-Beth, who were getting paid more than me and getting scheduled twice the amount of hours.
Here's a quick lesson for you. When operating anything, the most expensive thing is paying the employee. Whether you own a thrift store, McDonalds, or Disney World. The bulk of your money goes to paying the working man. So explain to me how giving more hours to the people who get paid more makes any sense economically? It doesn't. You're right,
So Amanda got me a job at Leslie's Pool Supply where she had started working. For a while we worked at PacSun and Leslie's. Since both of us usually worked a maximum of three hours a week at PacSun, it definitely was not hard to juggle both jobs. Then one day I was supposed to work at both places at once. I went to Leslie's. And I sure as shit didn't call PacSun. And I never went back in to work again.
About a week later I went in and asked Pat for my paycheck.
Prologue: A few years later I moved to Kalamazoo and tried to get a job at the Pacific Sunwear near Western. The manager wanted to hire me, but since I was in the system as non-rehirable, that didn't happen.
...You better believe I'd go back. Getting paid to sit around and do nothing and eat free pretzels is well worth the lack of job security if you ask me.
Right before T&S closed, I had gone on vacation to California with Brent. We stayed with my aunt and uncle in Huntington Beach and had an awesome time. I mean...an AWESOME time. We'd ride our bikes downtown, go to the beach every day, go to LA, rollerblade, everything. Tons of fun. I guess that's kind of what led me to Pacific Sunwear.
Now, PacSun was not an easy job to get. It will go down in history as the hardest I had to try to get hired. Disney World was easier. I'm not even joking. I wanted this job. I wanted it bad. Cool clothes, cute girls, good hours. I needed it. And it was at a mall. I was 17. Working at malls was still cool. Now, I learned later on that I was not supposed to be hired. Nothing against me, but they were fully staffed. They didn't need anymore people. But I called and called and called and finally assistant manager Mark (down in history as one of the best bosses ever) gave in and interviewed me.
Things got a little sticky here. You see, my teacher, Mrs Laine, has a daughter who worked at PacSun. And I was privy to some information that I probably shouldn't have been privy to. Mostly, that the manager at Pacific Sunwear, Steph, was a huge and raging bitch. Now, I probably should have kept this little fact a secret. Especially to Mark. Especially during my interview. You'd think that having 5 jobs already I would have known better than to say "I hear the manager is a huge bitch!" in my interview. But baby, I don't play by the rules.
Luckily, Steph was promoted to District Manager, meaning she was no longer working at the store. However, Mark really seemed to enjoy the fact that I brought her up and how I heard bad things. Well, Mark told Katy. Mrs Laine's daughter. Katy yelled at her mom. Her mom yelled at me. Now not only was I getting yelled at in freaking SCHOOL for something I said in a job interview, but Katy was actively protesting my getting hired. Looks like I fucked that one up.
Or not. Mark seemed to like me, and Katy quit when she started college, so I got the job. Katy came back eventually. But after 3 weeks of ice cold silence we became good friends. We laugh about it now.
Now the biggest problem with Pacific Sunwear at Twelve Oaks was the fact that they couldn't find a manager. We had three, yes, three assistant managers, but no one person in charge. Now, logic would suggest that one of the three, yes, three assistant managers be promoted to manager. But for some reason or another, this never happened. In fact, for the 9 or so months that I was there, we only had a manager for the first few weeks. It was Dana. Everyone loved Dana. I didn't hate Dana. I know you expected me to. I mean, Duane and Stan certainly left me with a certain disdain for authority figures, but I couldn't hold that against Dana. There were just some things that got to me.
1. She didn't pronounce it like "Day-na," she said "Dan-ah" Which drove me nuts.
2. She was obnoxioulsy passive agressive at times. "You need to go to the bathroom? Hmmm I would have figured you got that done when you came in 10 minutes late..."
3. She often would insinuate that I was gay. "Pinapple and ham on pizza? I always thought that's what gay people liked..."
Don't get me wrong. Dana was alright. She didn't suck. But when she got offered a better job at J. Crew and took it, there were no tears here.
From then, Mark was kind of in charge. Basically he was the store manager in the sense that he made the schedule, dealt with pay, went through paperwork, and did everything else a store manager is responsible for. The difference is he didn't get paid extra for it. He was definitely bitter, which was entertaining. We liked working with Mark.
The other two managers were named Mike. Mike and Mike. Oh, I'm sorry. Michael and Mike. Michael was the closeted homosexual who liked to talk about his days as a successful model to anyone that would listen. Mike was...well. We'll get to Mike later on. I liked working with Mike. He was just as cool as Mark. At first.
So yes. My three bosses were Mark, Mike, and Michael. Huey, Dewey, and Luey.
I also worked with Katherine who was insane but in a hot way, Katie who had just moved from California and desperately trying to move back, Matt who I actually worked with at Twist & Shout, Anita who might still actually be working there, Sean who was either from South Africa or Australia and told me the best joke I've ever heard, Amanda who was there when things got shitty, and got me my next job (Chapter 7), and some other people I don't remember. Oh and Barb. Barb rocked. I hear she married Mike. Or was it Mark? Maybe it was Michael. Doubtful.
I liked working there. I guess it's hard to write hilarious stories about shitty things that happened because for the most part....shitty things didn't happen.
Until Pat.
Yeah. Just like every story has a villain, every retail store has a manager. Although I see Pat as the enemy, I also see him as the victim. The victim of circumstance. He was old. And the manager of a youth retail clothing store. Pretty shitty circumstance.
Pat had his own way of doing things. And he did not like when his employees went about them in a different fashion. Regardless of if the employees' ways were quicker, easier, more convenient, or more productive. If they were not his way, he resented it. I'd love to go into the whole drama of it, but it's the same as my other jobs before PacSun and my jobs after PacSun. Pat liked the new people, hated the old people. Old people hated Pat. I referred 2 people, Brent and Sara-Beth, who were getting paid more than me and getting scheduled twice the amount of hours.
Here's a quick lesson for you. When operating anything, the most expensive thing is paying the employee. Whether you own a thrift store, McDonalds, or Disney World. The bulk of your money goes to paying the working man. So explain to me how giving more hours to the people who get paid more makes any sense economically? It doesn't. You're right,
So Amanda got me a job at Leslie's Pool Supply where she had started working. For a while we worked at PacSun and Leslie's. Since both of us usually worked a maximum of three hours a week at PacSun, it definitely was not hard to juggle both jobs. Then one day I was supposed to work at both places at once. I went to Leslie's. And I sure as shit didn't call PacSun. And I never went back in to work again.
About a week later I went in and asked Pat for my paycheck.
Prologue: A few years later I moved to Kalamazoo and tried to get a job at the Pacific Sunwear near Western. The manager wanted to hire me, but since I was in the system as non-rehirable, that didn't happen.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
The Projectz
The final project extravaganza is in full swing. Surprisingly, I'm doing extremely well with time management, which is a first. I even signed up for editing time tonight to work on one of them. Not that it's strange for me to sign up for editing time, but it certainly is strange that I actually showed up to do it. My Production & Editing project is going very well, and I am pretty happy with how it's going to turn out. My Aesthetics & Storytelling project, The Half-Ass Super Heroes vs. The Fruit Snack Bandit, however, I don't know. I guess it's too soon to tell, really. I have to present next week so most of my focus will be going into that. It'll be funny, I'm sure. Then there's the Critical Studies paper I need to write. I'll just pretend that doesn't exist for a few more days. In Body Movement I have to do some sort of movement piece. I don't know how that's going to go. I usually feel like a complete jackass doing those things, but that's only because I look like one when doing them also. I already performed my final scene in Scene Study, so that's 1 down.
Last night there was a lady eating raw hot dogs on the bus. She was talking to the driver and munching away like they were potato chips or something. Now I know that uncooked hot dogs are actually OK to eat, and I myself have done it before. However, I was probably like 6.
Today at the library there was a man who sang this song. I think he made it up. Oh, and he was homeless.
"I've got a condition tonight.
I need a computer, so I can get high"
It was pretty melodic and the lyrics rang true to me. I'll probably be hearing it on Q101 any day now.
I sent My Pie my resume and application. I'm not sure if I actually want the job of assistant manager, not to mention I'm still failing to see how I am actually qualified for it, but that's another story. So I wrote on my application that if not offered the assistant manager position that I would alaso be interested in being a server. I guess we'll see. It's close to the new apartment so that's cool. Speaking of the new apartment, here are a few pixxx. Courtesy of Mr. Frieders.
The living room and dining room.
I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but whatever it is I'm doing it in the hallway between the dining room and kitchen.
The guy who shows us the apartment looking confused in the living room.
Also, we have yet to actually move in so all of the furniture and decorations are not ours, but the girls who lived there before. I know that I was going to get some smart ass comment on the feminine decor.
Last night there was a lady eating raw hot dogs on the bus. She was talking to the driver and munching away like they were potato chips or something. Now I know that uncooked hot dogs are actually OK to eat, and I myself have done it before. However, I was probably like 6.
Today at the library there was a man who sang this song. I think he made it up. Oh, and he was homeless.
"I've got a condition tonight.
I need a computer, so I can get high"
It was pretty melodic and the lyrics rang true to me. I'll probably be hearing it on Q101 any day now.
I sent My Pie my resume and application. I'm not sure if I actually want the job of assistant manager, not to mention I'm still failing to see how I am actually qualified for it, but that's another story. So I wrote on my application that if not offered the assistant manager position that I would alaso be interested in being a server. I guess we'll see. It's close to the new apartment so that's cool. Speaking of the new apartment, here are a few pixxx. Courtesy of Mr. Frieders.
The living room and dining room.
I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but whatever it is I'm doing it in the hallway between the dining room and kitchen.
The guy who shows us the apartment looking confused in the living room.
Also, we have yet to actually move in so all of the furniture and decorations are not ours, but the girls who lived there before. I know that I was going to get some smart ass comment on the feminine decor.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
04-22-06
Is it really April 22? Seriously?
No. It can't be. HP must have programmed the calender function of my computer wrong. RandomHouse has made a mistake in my tear-a-page calender. April. 22. Hardly. Just a few weeks ago I was oling up my face and hair to dress like a mechanic, in our bathroom that was covered in blood from Matt's costume.
And how long ago did Jess give me the bacon tape for Christmas? Couldn't have been that long. Wasn't Dani sitting on my floor cutting out paper shapes while I played X-Men Legends II right after that? Logic says that I started working at Jerry Springer seven months ago. SEVEN!!! I disagree with that. It couldn't have been. That's over a half a year. Not possible.
The year is pretty much over. And now comes all of the typical regrets. Last year I didn't have any. Not a single regret. I loved everything. This year, I have several.
I should have gone out more.
I should have been nicer to people.
I shouldn't have argued with Matt so much.
I shouldn't have had such a bad attitude about places we went.
I shouldn't have lied whenever I lied.
I should have gone to the dance for more than the last 20 minutes.
I should have gotten a real job and not the telefund crap.
I should have made more effort to see Dani and Jill since I don't really know when or if I'll see them again after this year.
I shouldn't have stayed in my room as much when we had company.
I should have kept the apartment cleaner.
I should have invited people over more.
I should have watched 24 like Ashley's mom said to.
I should have auditioned for more plays.
That's enough of that. I could keep going but...well, let's not.
I just don't feel like we did as much this year. Or maybe we all did a lot of things, just not together. Yeah, I guess that's it. And I guess that's not a bad thing. We all grew apart slightly, but that's normal.
I have a job interview next week. It's at a pizza place called My Pie. They are interviewing me to be an assistant manager part time and a server part time. Since I have a month and a half between school and orientation I'm certainly going to need a job. I'll just ask for less hours the month of orientation.
I guess I'm pretty busy, just like everyone else. I've got:
a scene to perform
a 5-7 minute project to shoot and edit
a story that I need to tell three different ways (once with 15-25 pictures, once with only sound, and once with sound and 30-50 pictures)
a 12 page research paper
But it's kind of cool because all of the stuff I'm so busy doing I'm actually really excited to do. I'm having a lot of fun with all of them, even the research paper which is about why people like characters on TV that they would hate in real life.
In the fall I'm taking:
Improv for Actors
TV Program Development
Writing the Sitcom
Culture, Race, & Media (with both of my roommates)
Small Screen Video (The iPod class)
After the Fall, I'm going to be a part-time student for the Spring Semester, then I am doing summer Semester in LA, then I'm done. Staying in LA after that? Coming back to Chicago? Don't know. Please don't make me think about that.
No. It can't be. HP must have programmed the calender function of my computer wrong. RandomHouse has made a mistake in my tear-a-page calender. April. 22. Hardly. Just a few weeks ago I was oling up my face and hair to dress like a mechanic, in our bathroom that was covered in blood from Matt's costume.
And how long ago did Jess give me the bacon tape for Christmas? Couldn't have been that long. Wasn't Dani sitting on my floor cutting out paper shapes while I played X-Men Legends II right after that? Logic says that I started working at Jerry Springer seven months ago. SEVEN!!! I disagree with that. It couldn't have been. That's over a half a year. Not possible.
The year is pretty much over. And now comes all of the typical regrets. Last year I didn't have any. Not a single regret. I loved everything. This year, I have several.
I should have gone out more.
I should have been nicer to people.
I shouldn't have argued with Matt so much.
I shouldn't have had such a bad attitude about places we went.
I shouldn't have lied whenever I lied.
I should have gone to the dance for more than the last 20 minutes.
I should have gotten a real job and not the telefund crap.
I should have made more effort to see Dani and Jill since I don't really know when or if I'll see them again after this year.
I shouldn't have stayed in my room as much when we had company.
I should have kept the apartment cleaner.
I should have invited people over more.
I should have watched 24 like Ashley's mom said to.
I should have auditioned for more plays.
That's enough of that. I could keep going but...well, let's not.
I just don't feel like we did as much this year. Or maybe we all did a lot of things, just not together. Yeah, I guess that's it. And I guess that's not a bad thing. We all grew apart slightly, but that's normal.
I have a job interview next week. It's at a pizza place called My Pie. They are interviewing me to be an assistant manager part time and a server part time. Since I have a month and a half between school and orientation I'm certainly going to need a job. I'll just ask for less hours the month of orientation.
I guess I'm pretty busy, just like everyone else. I've got:
a scene to perform
a 5-7 minute project to shoot and edit
a story that I need to tell three different ways (once with 15-25 pictures, once with only sound, and once with sound and 30-50 pictures)
a 12 page research paper
But it's kind of cool because all of the stuff I'm so busy doing I'm actually really excited to do. I'm having a lot of fun with all of them, even the research paper which is about why people like characters on TV that they would hate in real life.
In the fall I'm taking:
Improv for Actors
TV Program Development
Writing the Sitcom
Culture, Race, & Media (with both of my roommates)
Small Screen Video (The iPod class)
After the Fall, I'm going to be a part-time student for the Spring Semester, then I am doing summer Semester in LA, then I'm done. Staying in LA after that? Coming back to Chicago? Don't know. Please don't make me think about that.
Monday, April 10, 2006
just there
I've pretty much just been going through the motions lately. Go to class. Do homework. Watch TV. Nothing above or beyond. Spring is coming. I should be energetic and wanting to go do things and play outside and have fun with people. I don't.
I've also been skipping way too much class lately. I guess I haven't been skipping too much. Let's put it this way. I had great attendance the first half of the semester and now I'm using all of my absences.
I've got a 17 page paper to write for next week. I guess that's a lot of pages but I'm not too worried. It's about how people enjoy characters on TV who they would normally hate in real life. I have to read articles and cite sources and all that. Anyone wanna do it for me?
I've also been skipping way too much class lately. I guess I haven't been skipping too much. Let's put it this way. I had great attendance the first half of the semester and now I'm using all of my absences.
I've got a 17 page paper to write for next week. I guess that's a lot of pages but I'm not too worried. It's about how people enjoy characters on TV who they would normally hate in real life. I have to read articles and cite sources and all that. Anyone wanna do it for me?
Saturday, April 01, 2006
There's something wrong with the world today
I hate banana flavored candy. I hate when you have somewhere to be but Helen Keller is walking in front of you on the escalator and you can't get by. I hate shirts with phrases on them. I hate that girl who looks at the picture she's just taken on her digital camera and says "No, do it again" 7 times. I hate other people's children, tourists, mall security, Red Robin, and flossing. Actually no, I kind of like flossing. I hate dogs that wear clothes (who the hell doesn't?) and standing in lines. But more than anything, I hate the American Family Association.
"What? The American Family Association? How can someone hate that? What, are you opposed to family values and good clean fun?" Well, as a matter of fact, yes. I am. But that is not why I hate the AFA. People may think that hating something like the American Family Association is like hating puppies or shortcake or kids with terminal illnesses, but that is not true at all. Make no mistake. The American Family Association is the devil.
Allow me to give you a brief history. In 1977, a man named Don Wildmon decided that since he didn't like sex, violence, or anything else in the world, he didn't want anyone else to enjoy them either. He created the AFA, which has since worked diligently and annoyingly to stop the media from causing any moral decay.
The current headline on the AFA website is "Fox allows 'S' word! Take a stand for our children!" Apparently, during a NASCAR race, they interviewed someone who said that his car was a piece of s**t. Since the race aired live, Fox didn't have time to bleep it. The AFA is outraged that Fox didn't put a 5 second delay on the program so that they could bleep any expletives. Shame on you Fox. Shame on you for thinking that you could get away with airing a live car race without profanities! What were you thinking? The "S" word, by the way is "Shit." Oh shit. I said it. Shit, I said it again! Shit, don't tell your kids!
The fact of the matter is most kids in America whose parents are not insane religious fanatics probably hear their parents cuss on a daily basis. I know my parents let "shit" slip a few times when I was little. So it being said once in a NASCAR race (which you'd practically have to force a child to watch anyway) isn't that big of a deal. "Shit" happens. Now had he said "The car is a piece of shit and I fucked a hooker in the backseat last night," then perhaps there would be a more concrete case.
The AFA is also in the midst of a massive boycott on Ford because it advertises to homosexuals. They INSIST that Ford should no longer advertise to gays and stop "choosing sides in this culture war." Wait a second, wouldn't appeasing the AFA and stop advertisement to gays be considered choosing sides? Hmmm. I also like that it is referred to as a "Culture War." If those damn gays would stop watching TV and reading magazines, Ford wouldn't be able to advertise to them to begin with. The most recent incident was when the motor company had a commercial played during a TV show that featured two girls kissing. If you're interested in seeing this "controversial" scene, you can see it on the AFA website. Yeah. Whenever something is deemed distasteful or offensive, they post it on their website for people to see. Sometimes the whole episode. And here I was about to go out and buy Nip/Tuck. Now I don't have to! Thanks AFA!
For 50 dollars a year, you can purchase the AFA Family Internet Filter. It blocks any and all websites that they feel are offensive. This includes but is not limited to Yahoo, Google, CNN, Blogger, Disney, and Ask Jeeves. This is a super way to have no internet, without the hassle of crawling under the desk to unplug the cord.
The AFA is also taking credit for the cancellation of a show on NBC called The Book of Daniel. It was about a priest who could see and talk to Jesus and it pissed them off because the priest had a gay son and did drugs or something. Anyway, the AFA called to boycott the show and it was cancelled shortly after. This is, of course, was because of the boycott, and had nothing to do with the fact that nobody is going to stay in on a Friday night to watch a TV show about Jesus.
Just as good as the AFA is OneMillionMoms.com. This is a noble group of one million (but really just twelve or so) moms that are noble enough to believe that they can change the entertainment industry. Sure, it's a multibillion dollar economy in itself, but it stands no chance against a bunch of stay at home moms who desperately want to remain involved in their rapidly aging children's lives for no other reason than because they haven't life of their own. OneMillionMoms has a nifty little list of all of their "accomplishments." They take credit for a lot of advertisers pulling sponsorship from shows such as The Shield. I have to wonder why these mothers are so concerned with a show that is not only on cable, but airs at 10 pm on a school night. Then again, they probably have such intense distaste for the public school's sex ed program that they've decided to homeschool the kids. Thus, they can sleep in later.
The Mommies also had a problem with Wonderfalls. An hour-long "dramedy" about a young woman who hears the voices of inanimate objects--which instruct her to help out total strangers." Apparently we don't want our youth watching a show in which a young woman helps total strangers. She must have been helping gay people. Disgusting.
We can also thank El Madres for persuading Best Buy to stop advertisements during South Park. I think. According to their site, "Although Geico and Best Buy have not formally responsed to your concerns, our monitoring idicates they no longer sponsor South Park." I'm not sure what exactly how they monitor, but if watching one episode of South Park and not seeing a Best Buy commercial is an "idication" that they dropped sponsorship, well then let's here it! GOOOO MOMS! Nice to see that Best Buy "responsed" We'll overlook the fact that although Best Buy may (or may not, as they have not formalled responsed) have dropped ads that air during South Park, they sure don't mind selling the DVD boxed sets. They also don't mind advertising those boxed sets in their weekly ads. And they sure don't mind selling them to children. But hey, at least now I can watch South Park and not have it ruined by that stupid commercial with the Black Eyed Peas.
They also succeeded in petitions stores such as Lowe's, Sears, and Walgreens to have the phrase "Merry Christmas" on their bags during the Holidays. Thank God for the Moms! Thousands of people are dying of AIDS in Africa, but at least my Walgreens bag will say "Merry Christmas." Hopefully it won't mention Hannukah. Wouldn't the Mom's be pissed!
But mama doesn't get to have ALL the fun! OneMillionDads.com is also pushing for a cleaner America. And what are the dads against? Well let's face it. Whatever the moms tell them to be against. Well, one thing the dads are against is The Gay Games. They have no tolerance for such debauchery. To show how much they hate gays, they have several pictures of scantily clad homosexual men at the on their website. Why? Because apparently the words "Scantily clad homosexual men" weren't enough. They had to show you what that meant. And yes, there's even asses. There are pictures of gay asses on OneMillionDads.com. Maybe OneMillionDads is keeping a little secret from OneMillionMoms. And maybe that guy named Gary who calls OneMillionDads during dinner is more than just a coworker from the office. Hmmm.
In conclusion, shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker. Have a nice day.
"What? The American Family Association? How can someone hate that? What, are you opposed to family values and good clean fun?" Well, as a matter of fact, yes. I am. But that is not why I hate the AFA. People may think that hating something like the American Family Association is like hating puppies or shortcake or kids with terminal illnesses, but that is not true at all. Make no mistake. The American Family Association is the devil.
Allow me to give you a brief history. In 1977, a man named Don Wildmon decided that since he didn't like sex, violence, or anything else in the world, he didn't want anyone else to enjoy them either. He created the AFA, which has since worked diligently and annoyingly to stop the media from causing any moral decay.
The current headline on the AFA website is "Fox allows 'S' word! Take a stand for our children!" Apparently, during a NASCAR race, they interviewed someone who said that his car was a piece of s**t. Since the race aired live, Fox didn't have time to bleep it. The AFA is outraged that Fox didn't put a 5 second delay on the program so that they could bleep any expletives. Shame on you Fox. Shame on you for thinking that you could get away with airing a live car race without profanities! What were you thinking? The "S" word, by the way is "Shit." Oh shit. I said it. Shit, I said it again! Shit, don't tell your kids!
The fact of the matter is most kids in America whose parents are not insane religious fanatics probably hear their parents cuss on a daily basis. I know my parents let "shit" slip a few times when I was little. So it being said once in a NASCAR race (which you'd practically have to force a child to watch anyway) isn't that big of a deal. "Shit" happens. Now had he said "The car is a piece of shit and I fucked a hooker in the backseat last night," then perhaps there would be a more concrete case.
The AFA is also in the midst of a massive boycott on Ford because it advertises to homosexuals. They INSIST that Ford should no longer advertise to gays and stop "choosing sides in this culture war." Wait a second, wouldn't appeasing the AFA and stop advertisement to gays be considered choosing sides? Hmmm. I also like that it is referred to as a "Culture War." If those damn gays would stop watching TV and reading magazines, Ford wouldn't be able to advertise to them to begin with. The most recent incident was when the motor company had a commercial played during a TV show that featured two girls kissing. If you're interested in seeing this "controversial" scene, you can see it on the AFA website. Yeah. Whenever something is deemed distasteful or offensive, they post it on their website for people to see. Sometimes the whole episode. And here I was about to go out and buy Nip/Tuck. Now I don't have to! Thanks AFA!
For 50 dollars a year, you can purchase the AFA Family Internet Filter. It blocks any and all websites that they feel are offensive. This includes but is not limited to Yahoo, Google, CNN, Blogger, Disney, and Ask Jeeves. This is a super way to have no internet, without the hassle of crawling under the desk to unplug the cord.
The AFA is also taking credit for the cancellation of a show on NBC called The Book of Daniel. It was about a priest who could see and talk to Jesus and it pissed them off because the priest had a gay son and did drugs or something. Anyway, the AFA called to boycott the show and it was cancelled shortly after. This is, of course, was because of the boycott, and had nothing to do with the fact that nobody is going to stay in on a Friday night to watch a TV show about Jesus.
Just as good as the AFA is OneMillionMoms.com. This is a noble group of one million (but really just twelve or so) moms that are noble enough to believe that they can change the entertainment industry. Sure, it's a multibillion dollar economy in itself, but it stands no chance against a bunch of stay at home moms who desperately want to remain involved in their rapidly aging children's lives for no other reason than because they haven't life of their own. OneMillionMoms has a nifty little list of all of their "accomplishments." They take credit for a lot of advertisers pulling sponsorship from shows such as The Shield. I have to wonder why these mothers are so concerned with a show that is not only on cable, but airs at 10 pm on a school night. Then again, they probably have such intense distaste for the public school's sex ed program that they've decided to homeschool the kids. Thus, they can sleep in later.
The Mommies also had a problem with Wonderfalls. An hour-long "dramedy" about a young woman who hears the voices of inanimate objects--which instruct her to help out total strangers." Apparently we don't want our youth watching a show in which a young woman helps total strangers. She must have been helping gay people. Disgusting.
We can also thank El Madres for persuading Best Buy to stop advertisements during South Park. I think. According to their site, "Although Geico and Best Buy have not formally responsed to your concerns, our monitoring idicates they no longer sponsor South Park." I'm not sure what exactly how they monitor, but if watching one episode of South Park and not seeing a Best Buy commercial is an "idication" that they dropped sponsorship, well then let's here it! GOOOO MOMS! Nice to see that Best Buy "responsed" We'll overlook the fact that although Best Buy may (or may not, as they have not formalled responsed) have dropped ads that air during South Park, they sure don't mind selling the DVD boxed sets. They also don't mind advertising those boxed sets in their weekly ads. And they sure don't mind selling them to children. But hey, at least now I can watch South Park and not have it ruined by that stupid commercial with the Black Eyed Peas.
They also succeeded in petitions stores such as Lowe's, Sears, and Walgreens to have the phrase "Merry Christmas" on their bags during the Holidays. Thank God for the Moms! Thousands of people are dying of AIDS in Africa, but at least my Walgreens bag will say "Merry Christmas." Hopefully it won't mention Hannukah. Wouldn't the Mom's be pissed!
But mama doesn't get to have ALL the fun! OneMillionDads.com is also pushing for a cleaner America. And what are the dads against? Well let's face it. Whatever the moms tell them to be against. Well, one thing the dads are against is The Gay Games. They have no tolerance for such debauchery. To show how much they hate gays, they have several pictures of scantily clad homosexual men at the on their website. Why? Because apparently the words "Scantily clad homosexual men" weren't enough. They had to show you what that meant. And yes, there's even asses. There are pictures of gay asses on OneMillionDads.com. Maybe OneMillionDads is keeping a little secret from OneMillionMoms. And maybe that guy named Gary who calls OneMillionDads during dinner is more than just a coworker from the office. Hmmm.
In conclusion, shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker. Have a nice day.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Boo, Dude!
Every time I try to write in this thing I end up erasing it halfway through. I decide that I can't write about the things I do in a funny enough fashion, so I just delete and go back to my daily routine of looking at Facebook photo albums of people I don't know. And not only that, many of the deleted entried have also started with "Every time I try to write in this thing I end up erasing it halfway through." So let's see if this one ever gets published. I've just painted myself into a corner, I suppose. I'm so clever and funny that it's hard to keep topping myself.
What have I been doing lately? Hmmmm...Well in Aesthetics & Storytelling II we had to make a story on the computer using nothing but sound. Voice over, music, sound effects, dialogue, that kind of thing. Well, a small known fact about me is that I hate to do things. Anything. I hate it. So needless to say the first half of Spring Break consisted of me telling myself "I'll do it tomorrow." Finally, since I was going home on Thursday, I realized that I had no choice but to go to the lab and get it done on Wednesday. I went to the lab Wednesday and the door was closed. I assumed that this meant that the lab was closed all of Spring Break. Relieved that I no longer had anything to do for the day, I left. I later discovered that the workers were just on lunch and that the lab was totally open. Ahhh well.
So the only time before class that I had was Tuesday for about 2 hours. I didn't get to record my dialogue with Ashley, nor did I get the sound clip of people yelling "Surprise!" which was somewhat important since the story is about a surprise party. So basically I had half a story and no "Surprise!" But due to some quick thinking and magnificent stage presence on my account, I managed to get by.
Oh! So on Sunday before I came back from home, my mom and I were arguing. Then I told her I was going out that night and going to go out and get drunk. I only said it to piss her off, but as a matter of fact my smart remark turned out to be a sort of prophecy. Turns out it was Dietz's birthday and Courtney through her a party at Tantrum. Now, for being a Sunday night I figured this would be a low key night. Sit around, have some drinks. Chill.
This was before the topless waitress arrived. This was before the stripper. This was before the 8 or 9 Blue Moons I consumed. This was before Jacob and the topless waitress were inexplicably tending the bar (and not charging). This was before I drew a cat on Kim's boob and started calling her "Kitty Titty". This is before I started flirting with Volpe's lesbian roommate. This was before Jacob made us minty green shots that Kim referred to as "some Goosebumps shit." This was before a lot of things. I left at about 7:30, telling everyone I'd be back soon. That I was just going to have a beer and wish Lindsey a happy birthday. And I meant it! Ahhhh welcome to college.
So that's that.
What have I been doing lately? Hmmmm...Well in Aesthetics & Storytelling II we had to make a story on the computer using nothing but sound. Voice over, music, sound effects, dialogue, that kind of thing. Well, a small known fact about me is that I hate to do things. Anything. I hate it. So needless to say the first half of Spring Break consisted of me telling myself "I'll do it tomorrow." Finally, since I was going home on Thursday, I realized that I had no choice but to go to the lab and get it done on Wednesday. I went to the lab Wednesday and the door was closed. I assumed that this meant that the lab was closed all of Spring Break. Relieved that I no longer had anything to do for the day, I left. I later discovered that the workers were just on lunch and that the lab was totally open. Ahhh well.
So the only time before class that I had was Tuesday for about 2 hours. I didn't get to record my dialogue with Ashley, nor did I get the sound clip of people yelling "Surprise!" which was somewhat important since the story is about a surprise party. So basically I had half a story and no "Surprise!" But due to some quick thinking and magnificent stage presence on my account, I managed to get by.
Oh! So on Sunday before I came back from home, my mom and I were arguing. Then I told her I was going out that night and going to go out and get drunk. I only said it to piss her off, but as a matter of fact my smart remark turned out to be a sort of prophecy. Turns out it was Dietz's birthday and Courtney through her a party at Tantrum. Now, for being a Sunday night I figured this would be a low key night. Sit around, have some drinks. Chill.
This was before the topless waitress arrived. This was before the stripper. This was before the 8 or 9 Blue Moons I consumed. This was before Jacob and the topless waitress were inexplicably tending the bar (and not charging). This was before I drew a cat on Kim's boob and started calling her "Kitty Titty". This is before I started flirting with Volpe's lesbian roommate. This was before Jacob made us minty green shots that Kim referred to as "some Goosebumps shit." This was before a lot of things. I left at about 7:30, telling everyone I'd be back soon. That I was just going to have a beer and wish Lindsey a happy birthday. And I meant it! Ahhhh welcome to college.
So that's that.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
I Got the Stuff You Got the Money?
I need a new bank. It's such a pain in the ass to go to National City. I can't switch now though. Mostly because I have pretty much no money. But also because it would further my bank's suspicion that I'm a drug dealer. Well, I guess they don't really believe that. Not yet, anyway. But the thing is I walk the dog, so I am always coming in and depositing checks for like 50 bucks. And then a few weeks ago I deposited 100 dollars cash. And the FLYMF check for $8.54. My job at Columbia is direct deposit, so the only thing the bank teller ever sees me do is deposit personal checks and cash. And it's always the same asian guy. I wouldn't be surprised if the next time he goes in he asks me for a dime bag.
I still don't even know my bank account number. Every week I come in and tell him "I don't know my account number but I wrote down my Social Security Number." I'm fairly certain that at this point he's memorized my account number, and thinks that I'm just too damn high to remember it. I like this bank because there is never a line. I walk in, fill out my deposit slip at the table with the chained pen and the conveniently updated calender (since the new phone doesn't display the date like the old one did, this countertop calender is a necessity) and walk right up to the counter. I hate waiting in line at the bank. Everybody in front of me is an asshole who is convinced that their monetary needs are more important than anything else, while everyone at the counter is taking so long that you can't help but wonder what the hell they are actually doing. Is this their first time coming to a bank ever? Are they getting a full overview? Who knows. I better get the teller with the dish of root beer candy.
Speaking of money, I think I'm out of a job. The telefund hasn't been going well. Turns out Alumni like to be called and asked for money about as much as I like calling them asking for it. This Tuesday is the "Mid-Telefund Evaluation" meeting. I'm pretty positive this is going to include them telling us to find new jobs. I'll miss it. It was an easy job.
So I'm at home for the weekend. Ashley and I came back Thursday night. We didn't leave until late because Jeff forced me to go look at the apartment with him. Forced, I say! I had no choice. Anyway we didn't leave Chicago until about 6, and after stopping at 10 different McDonalds to find the right coffee for Ashley, missing our exit in Indiana, and stopping for gas, we made it home around 11:30. I was worried I'd start to get tired and fall asleep, which would suck for Ashley, who was driving. Luckily she had Now That's What I Call Music Volume 2 on her, which kept us awake and energized the entire time. Now 2 is perfect. It's right before pop music became garbage. Robbie Williams, Semisonic, New Radicals...that kind of stuff. And admit it, "Baby One More Time" isn't THAT bad when you only listen to it once every 5 years.
I need to figure out what I'm doing with my life. I guess LA. I'm at Columbia for next year, then I will do Semester in LA in the summer and be done with school. From there, I don't know. Stay in LA? Back to Chicago? I guess it all depends. On one hand, I don't want to live in LA for the rest if my life. On the other hand, I truly wouldn't mind waiting tables at Bennigan's in Hollywood either. I want to write for TV. That's basically it. And I'm definitely aware of the whole disappointment and persistence aspect. But how long is too long? When do I give up and lower my goals and settle on something? I don't want to be 50 and giving tours of the NBC studio wondering what the hell I've done with my life. There's always DisneyLand if I need a job, I suppose.
I still don't even know my bank account number. Every week I come in and tell him "I don't know my account number but I wrote down my Social Security Number." I'm fairly certain that at this point he's memorized my account number, and thinks that I'm just too damn high to remember it. I like this bank because there is never a line. I walk in, fill out my deposit slip at the table with the chained pen and the conveniently updated calender (since the new phone doesn't display the date like the old one did, this countertop calender is a necessity) and walk right up to the counter. I hate waiting in line at the bank. Everybody in front of me is an asshole who is convinced that their monetary needs are more important than anything else, while everyone at the counter is taking so long that you can't help but wonder what the hell they are actually doing. Is this their first time coming to a bank ever? Are they getting a full overview? Who knows. I better get the teller with the dish of root beer candy.
Speaking of money, I think I'm out of a job. The telefund hasn't been going well. Turns out Alumni like to be called and asked for money about as much as I like calling them asking for it. This Tuesday is the "Mid-Telefund Evaluation" meeting. I'm pretty positive this is going to include them telling us to find new jobs. I'll miss it. It was an easy job.
So I'm at home for the weekend. Ashley and I came back Thursday night. We didn't leave until late because Jeff forced me to go look at the apartment with him. Forced, I say! I had no choice. Anyway we didn't leave Chicago until about 6, and after stopping at 10 different McDonalds to find the right coffee for Ashley, missing our exit in Indiana, and stopping for gas, we made it home around 11:30. I was worried I'd start to get tired and fall asleep, which would suck for Ashley, who was driving. Luckily she had Now That's What I Call Music Volume 2 on her, which kept us awake and energized the entire time. Now 2 is perfect. It's right before pop music became garbage. Robbie Williams, Semisonic, New Radicals...that kind of stuff. And admit it, "Baby One More Time" isn't THAT bad when you only listen to it once every 5 years.
I need to figure out what I'm doing with my life. I guess LA. I'm at Columbia for next year, then I will do Semester in LA in the summer and be done with school. From there, I don't know. Stay in LA? Back to Chicago? I guess it all depends. On one hand, I don't want to live in LA for the rest if my life. On the other hand, I truly wouldn't mind waiting tables at Bennigan's in Hollywood either. I want to write for TV. That's basically it. And I'm definitely aware of the whole disappointment and persistence aspect. But how long is too long? When do I give up and lower my goals and settle on something? I don't want to be 50 and giving tours of the NBC studio wondering what the hell I've done with my life. There's always DisneyLand if I need a job, I suppose.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
RetroBlogging
While I continue to work on Chapter 6 (I must admit, the thought of these things being published has really made writing them a lot more of a challenge) I have decided to start something new. You see, long long ago, the summer before I started college, I created a DeadJournal account. Not long after, I moved over to LiveJournal. Needless to say, I have quite a bit of old entries under my belt. Some of them are pretty interesting, so I've decided to start sharing some of the choice back entries.
This is one of my earliest ever. It's called "Cat Burglar" and was written on August 17th, 2002! I hadn't even moved out of my house yet.
So I had to break into my house just now. My brother decided to lock the door for once and I wasn't home. But it was pretty easy. While I was crawling through the window I realized that if i want to do anything, i can do it. It's not a matter or drive or persistance I don't think. It's a matter of I want it, so I'm gonna get it it.
The ice cream truck never comes past my house anymore. I can always hear his music but he's always in a different subdivision. It doesn't bother me as much as it should. When I was a kid staying at my grandmas house I was never allowed to get ice cream from the ice cream man. I always figured it was because she already had all sorts of shit in the freezer for me but I now realize that it was because my grandma lives in Detroit and her neighborhood is so ghetto I probably would have gotten shot dead on the sidewalk for my Screwball. Remember Screwballs? It was the nastiest kind of ice cream sherbet crap in a plastic cone with a gumball in the middle. For some reason we thought screwballs were the best because they had gum when looking back I could have saved my money and bought a pack of bubblicious or something.
Everyone is going away. It's actually pretty sad. Some people have left and a lot more leave this week. It's kind of like the week before Christmas. You know Christmas is coming up really soon but you just can't believe it and you feel as though its a lot farther away than it really is. I know I'll see the people that I care about again and that it's not really goodbye but it's still kind of sad. It doesn't make me happy. You know what else doesn't make me happy is the chicken whopper at Burger King. It's just a frikkin' chicken sandwich! It tastes exactly the same as the other chicken sandwich. I don't know what I was expecting but the chicken whopper was definately an underwhelming experience.
Don't you like how I go from a sentimental feeling of my friends going away to bitching about a sandwich at Burger King? Tell me, is it aggravating or just another one of my charming quirks?
Here's one from a few months later. Halfway through my Freshman year at WMU. It's called "2002 in Review" and was written January 2nd, 2003.
Good things:
Graduating, leaving behind the shitheads in Novi, The Vines, "The Rules Of Attraction", late night trips to Denny's with Cody, California with Brent, chilaxing on Robbie's couch, going to Western, partying at Western, Home Town Hero, New Years at Ashley's, the A*Teens concert, hanging out with Alicia again, Halloween, the day after Halloween, meeting Lit with Brynne, drinking in the girls bathroom at 6 AM, getting 5th in the state for Forensics with Todd, snowboarding, turning 18, Mychelle Hopkins jokes, "Kiss Of The Spiderwoman" with Carissa, smoker's island, tape recording strange conversations, Power Stone 2, laying by the pool at Redwood, laying by my pool at home, working at Leslie's, quitting PacSun, Bronco Days, buying little boys Superman underwear and T-Shirts, Canada with Danny, "Gangs Of New York", FM Nation, the rec, WATER'S COMING!, trying out for Real World in Chicago with Mark and Sarah, 8- Legged Freaks, Seeing Jay Leno, Uncle Jim's crazy antics, Sand Castles with Brent, Bad TV with Ashwini, and more...
Bad things...
THAI FOOD!!!! The last semester of Senior year, half the people I graduated with, bouts of random depression, my roommate, getting in trouble at NBC, WB, and Nickelodeon studios, Christian Slater sightings, breaking up with Robbie, scars from punching walls, cell phone troubles, Avril Lavigne, people being in my room when I want to sleep, Real World Las Vegas, getting pulled over for not speeding, being written up twice for stupid things I'm innocent of, walking to class in the rain, the last 3 weeks at Pacific Sunwear, being bored over summer, reading for class, and so on...
And one more. From January 15th, 2003. A short entry entitled "My roommate isn't up for his class and I'm not going to wake him!"
Funny Observation Of The Day:
The black female bus driver that always yells at us to move to the back of the bus
Things I Have Injured This Weekend While Drunk:
-Split my chin running into a door
-Rug burn on my left arm as a result of being tackled after an unsuccessful doorbell ditch
-Bruise on front top of head from bathroom wall
-Bruise on back of head from falling down stairs
-Bruised knee, causes unknown
-Scratched right leg, causes unknown
-Bruised right arm, causes unknown
-Scratched knuckles from punching the door I split my chin on
Who the hell was I?
Chapter 6. Coming eventually. I promise.
This is one of my earliest ever. It's called "Cat Burglar" and was written on August 17th, 2002! I hadn't even moved out of my house yet.
So I had to break into my house just now. My brother decided to lock the door for once and I wasn't home. But it was pretty easy. While I was crawling through the window I realized that if i want to do anything, i can do it. It's not a matter or drive or persistance I don't think. It's a matter of I want it, so I'm gonna get it it.
The ice cream truck never comes past my house anymore. I can always hear his music but he's always in a different subdivision. It doesn't bother me as much as it should. When I was a kid staying at my grandmas house I was never allowed to get ice cream from the ice cream man. I always figured it was because she already had all sorts of shit in the freezer for me but I now realize that it was because my grandma lives in Detroit and her neighborhood is so ghetto I probably would have gotten shot dead on the sidewalk for my Screwball. Remember Screwballs? It was the nastiest kind of ice cream sherbet crap in a plastic cone with a gumball in the middle. For some reason we thought screwballs were the best because they had gum when looking back I could have saved my money and bought a pack of bubblicious or something.
Everyone is going away. It's actually pretty sad. Some people have left and a lot more leave this week. It's kind of like the week before Christmas. You know Christmas is coming up really soon but you just can't believe it and you feel as though its a lot farther away than it really is. I know I'll see the people that I care about again and that it's not really goodbye but it's still kind of sad. It doesn't make me happy. You know what else doesn't make me happy is the chicken whopper at Burger King. It's just a frikkin' chicken sandwich! It tastes exactly the same as the other chicken sandwich. I don't know what I was expecting but the chicken whopper was definately an underwhelming experience.
Don't you like how I go from a sentimental feeling of my friends going away to bitching about a sandwich at Burger King? Tell me, is it aggravating or just another one of my charming quirks?
Here's one from a few months later. Halfway through my Freshman year at WMU. It's called "2002 in Review" and was written January 2nd, 2003.
Good things:
Graduating, leaving behind the shitheads in Novi, The Vines, "The Rules Of Attraction", late night trips to Denny's with Cody, California with Brent, chilaxing on Robbie's couch, going to Western, partying at Western, Home Town Hero, New Years at Ashley's, the A*Teens concert, hanging out with Alicia again, Halloween, the day after Halloween, meeting Lit with Brynne, drinking in the girls bathroom at 6 AM, getting 5th in the state for Forensics with Todd, snowboarding, turning 18, Mychelle Hopkins jokes, "Kiss Of The Spiderwoman" with Carissa, smoker's island, tape recording strange conversations, Power Stone 2, laying by the pool at Redwood, laying by my pool at home, working at Leslie's, quitting PacSun, Bronco Days, buying little boys Superman underwear and T-Shirts, Canada with Danny, "Gangs Of New York", FM Nation, the rec, WATER'S COMING!, trying out for Real World in Chicago with Mark and Sarah, 8- Legged Freaks, Seeing Jay Leno, Uncle Jim's crazy antics, Sand Castles with Brent, Bad TV with Ashwini, and more...
Bad things...
THAI FOOD!!!! The last semester of Senior year, half the people I graduated with, bouts of random depression, my roommate, getting in trouble at NBC, WB, and Nickelodeon studios, Christian Slater sightings, breaking up with Robbie, scars from punching walls, cell phone troubles, Avril Lavigne, people being in my room when I want to sleep, Real World Las Vegas, getting pulled over for not speeding, being written up twice for stupid things I'm innocent of, walking to class in the rain, the last 3 weeks at Pacific Sunwear, being bored over summer, reading for class, and so on...
And one more. From January 15th, 2003. A short entry entitled "My roommate isn't up for his class and I'm not going to wake him!"
Funny Observation Of The Day:
The black female bus driver that always yells at us to move to the back of the bus
Things I Have Injured This Weekend While Drunk:
-Split my chin running into a door
-Rug burn on my left arm as a result of being tackled after an unsuccessful doorbell ditch
-Bruise on front top of head from bathroom wall
-Bruise on back of head from falling down stairs
-Bruised knee, causes unknown
-Scratched right leg, causes unknown
-Bruised right arm, causes unknown
-Scratched knuckles from punching the door I split my chin on
Who the hell was I?
Chapter 6. Coming eventually. I promise.
Monday, March 13, 2006
I had a paper to write. It required six sources. I was all ready to do it until I made the startling discovery that none of the sources can be from the internet. This sucks pretty bad, as I have no sources at all and the paper is due tomorrow. I guess I'll turn it in late.
I'm having a hard time distracting myself from homework lately. I've seen everything on Facebook and there's nothing on Google Earth that I haven't looked up. Not having myspace anymore has also cut down on things to do when I'm bored.
I'll just go to bed.
I'm having a hard time distracting myself from homework lately. I've seen everything on Facebook and there's nothing on Google Earth that I haven't looked up. Not having myspace anymore has also cut down on things to do when I'm bored.
I'll just go to bed.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Mean Green Machine
I got two e-mails from my teacher. The first was a reminder to sign up for extra lab time outside of class to finish our projects. The second was an e mail specifically to a girl who had missed class 3 times from being sick. The e mail went into detail on how she can't get anything higher than a C on any assignment for the rest of the semester. She can't miss or be late again or she fails. She is on "probation." I just can't figure out why the teacher would send that e mail to the entire class. Doesn't that seem wrong? That's gotta go against student/teacher confidentiality or something. If it was my problem and the teacher sent an e-mail to the whole class, I'd be pissed. Wouldn't you? Call now to vote! Press 1 for yes, 2 for no.
We signed a lease. We got an apartment. It's in Lincoln Park on W. Lill right by the Fullerton stop. Super close to the L, bars, DePaul parties, and restaurants open past 8 pm. I'm really excited, it's gonna be fun. Matt and I signed for the place because Jeff was out of town, and I feel really bad about doing that to Jeff but the place is awesome and I know he'll like it. The rooms are all big and the same size, which was key.
I met with the guys from the agency at the portfolio center on Friday. It was both good and bad. It was good because I got some really helpful information about writing for television. It was bad because when he picked up my script he said "I just didn't get it." At first I was disappointed. I mean, since I was half expecting him to love Off The Clock and want to see it to Showtime and move me to Hollywood to start working immediately, "I just didn't get it" was not quite the best case scenario. Then I realized he didn't even read the script. He read the first few sentences of the treatement (synopsis of the show) and that's it. So I learned the greatest lesson of all from him. People in the industry are not my teachers. My teachers get paid to read my stuff. It is their responsibilty to go from start to finish. This guy didn't have to do that. And the first sentence wasn't good enough for him so he put it back into my olive green Five Star folder from Mead and went on to something else. Disappointing...but a good lesson.
So...this weekend. Well...Baggy seemed upset that he missed all of the events but I can assure everyone this weekend was no more special than last weekend and will most likely be no more special than next weekend. It was fun and all, don't get me wrong.
I was going to write a little recap of everything that happened this weekend but I realized that every story would start with "I didn't want to go but I did anyway and it was fun." I need to improve this attitude. Every time we go out I refuse. Then I go and its good times.
Highlights of the weekend include:
Actually getting SLC for once.
Libby declaring her bisexuality to 7-11 and Jimmy Ray.
Libby undeclaring her bisexuality the next morning.
The trip to the train after the party on Belmont.
The awesome weather.
Hearing about Ryan's incident in the hallway.
And this:
We signed a lease. We got an apartment. It's in Lincoln Park on W. Lill right by the Fullerton stop. Super close to the L, bars, DePaul parties, and restaurants open past 8 pm. I'm really excited, it's gonna be fun. Matt and I signed for the place because Jeff was out of town, and I feel really bad about doing that to Jeff but the place is awesome and I know he'll like it. The rooms are all big and the same size, which was key.
I met with the guys from the agency at the portfolio center on Friday. It was both good and bad. It was good because I got some really helpful information about writing for television. It was bad because when he picked up my script he said "I just didn't get it." At first I was disappointed. I mean, since I was half expecting him to love Off The Clock and want to see it to Showtime and move me to Hollywood to start working immediately, "I just didn't get it" was not quite the best case scenario. Then I realized he didn't even read the script. He read the first few sentences of the treatement (synopsis of the show) and that's it. So I learned the greatest lesson of all from him. People in the industry are not my teachers. My teachers get paid to read my stuff. It is their responsibilty to go from start to finish. This guy didn't have to do that. And the first sentence wasn't good enough for him so he put it back into my olive green Five Star folder from Mead and went on to something else. Disappointing...but a good lesson.
So...this weekend. Well...Baggy seemed upset that he missed all of the events but I can assure everyone this weekend was no more special than last weekend and will most likely be no more special than next weekend. It was fun and all, don't get me wrong.
I was going to write a little recap of everything that happened this weekend but I realized that every story would start with "I didn't want to go but I did anyway and it was fun." I need to improve this attitude. Every time we go out I refuse. Then I go and its good times.
Highlights of the weekend include:
Actually getting SLC for once.
Libby declaring her bisexuality to 7-11 and Jimmy Ray.
Libby undeclaring her bisexuality the next morning.
The trip to the train after the party on Belmont.
The awesome weather.
Hearing about Ryan's incident in the hallway.
And this:
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
what was it again?
I had something good to talk about. Something that I thought was really super interesting. I can't remember what it was though. It wasn't about cats, or Taco Bell, or computers. It wasn't about Three's Company or deodorant or Van Halen. It wasn't about Coke or avacados or buttermilk. I just don't remember. Hmmmm...
The bet is almost over. Can we please continue to talk about who jerks off and when once the bet is over, guys? Please? I'd hate to see such an interesting conversation topic disappear. Truly. I barely even throw up in my mouth at all when it's brought up now.
Ever have those restless nights where you don't want to do anything? There's nothing on TV. You hate all of your movies. There is no music you want to listen to. You have no homework. Your room is clean. You don't want to hang out. You want to do something...but there's nothing you want to do. I had that tonight. But there was a show about a family of dwarfs on TLC that kept me semi-interested. Until I fell asleep.
I call it the Wednesday night lull. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday I am on the go, busy working and going to class and doing homework. I'm barely at home for more than 5 minutes between 9 am and 9pm. Then I get to Wednesday, and although I've still got a bit of stuff to do on Thursday, I'm pretty much done. But I'm still in productive mode. I still feel I should be doing things. Making things. Getting stuff done.
I'm trying to be funny write now, I really am. I'd like to come up with puns and anecdotes for you, since I know that's why you come to this page. That's why you have it bookmarked, right? I'm not in a bad mood. I'm really not. I'm fairly content, I'd say. I just don't feel like being funny. Or writing funny. Hmmm...or writing at all, for that matter.
The bet is almost over. Can we please continue to talk about who jerks off and when once the bet is over, guys? Please? I'd hate to see such an interesting conversation topic disappear. Truly. I barely even throw up in my mouth at all when it's brought up now.
Ever have those restless nights where you don't want to do anything? There's nothing on TV. You hate all of your movies. There is no music you want to listen to. You have no homework. Your room is clean. You don't want to hang out. You want to do something...but there's nothing you want to do. I had that tonight. But there was a show about a family of dwarfs on TLC that kept me semi-interested. Until I fell asleep.
I call it the Wednesday night lull. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday I am on the go, busy working and going to class and doing homework. I'm barely at home for more than 5 minutes between 9 am and 9pm. Then I get to Wednesday, and although I've still got a bit of stuff to do on Thursday, I'm pretty much done. But I'm still in productive mode. I still feel I should be doing things. Making things. Getting stuff done.
I'm trying to be funny write now, I really am. I'd like to come up with puns and anecdotes for you, since I know that's why you come to this page. That's why you have it bookmarked, right? I'm not in a bad mood. I'm really not. I'm fairly content, I'd say. I just don't feel like being funny. Or writing funny. Hmmm...or writing at all, for that matter.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
This is a True Story
The first time I ever came to Chicago was to audition for The Real World: Paris. I came with Mark and Sarah. We got up at about 5 in the morning, drove out here, and stood in line for about 8 hours while we waited to go into the interview. For some reason the people running this thought it was a good idea to give you the application as soon as you arrived. So you filled out an application, then had a good 8 hours to step on it, roll it up, fold it, drop it in a puddle, and tear it. Once it was finally my turn, I was brought into this lounge area for the group interview. The group interview lasted about 20 minutes, and consisted of me rolling my eyes while a bunch of attention starved idiots went on and on about themselves, trying desperately to be noticed. No, I don't want to see you dance, dude. I'm sorry your dad is in jail but you are still boring, go home.
It was a waste of time, but I guess a good story to tell. But anyway, that's neither here nor there. The point is, when we came out here, we saw David from The Real World: New Orleans. So I knew what he looked like in person, and I knew he lived in Chicago. Which leads me to my next story.
David works at the Ritz Carlton off of Pearson. I swear to you. I was walking to my cousin's today and I saw this guy and I thought to myself "That kind of looks like David from Real World," and then I remembered he was in Chicago, and then I looked at his name tag. David. Coincidence? Fuck no. It was him. It was him for sure. He's a manager or something high up like that I guess. I make this judgement based on the fact that he had a suit on. And he was on Real World.
This week is crazy busy. I've got to finish storyboarding and tape my P&E II project. I have to work on my A&S II sound project. I have reading for Critical Studies. I have a midterm next week to study for. I have a scene to memorize. Lots of stuff. Also, I'm taking my Off The Clock pilot, or at least the first two acts of it, to Show-Off on Friday for these guys from some LA agency to look at. I'm kind of scared, because it basically sucks. I guess there's really nothing to be afraid of. I'm doing it for the experience. I'll value their feedback. I'd like to hear what they have to say. But still. I think my dream job would be coming up with ideas for shows while someone else writes them. I'll help with funny lines and dialogue, but as for story progression and character development, well you can just do it yourself and fill me in on that later.
So my friends had that little formal this weekend. The one in the study lounge. The one I refused to go to because I thought it was dumb. Well....I went. I know, I know. Hypocrite. I suck. I'm a loser. And guess what? I had fun. I almost wish I was there longer. Ok, I was also pretty drunk, which is why I went in the first place, but I'm glad I went. I think. I even dressed up, See? Sometimes it's fun to get gussied up.
Friday, March 03, 2006
If your Uncle Jack was hanging off a cliff...
So the group has this no masturbation bet. For 6 weeks or something no one is allowed to masturbate and if you do you have to pay money. Ok, so here's my thing about that. It makes no sense. I mean, nobody mentions that they masturbated in normal situations, so why would anyone bring it up if they had to pay 5 dollars? I mean, say it's about truth and the honor system all you want, the fact is we are all human. The whole thing about masturbation is "everyone's doing it but nobody talks about it" which makes the entire bet irrelevant. Why? Because people don't talk about it. But for some reason now that you have to pay for it, a masturbation fee of some sorts, you think that people will admit? Now they are trying to switch it. No one is doing it and everyone is talking about it. It's like you're paying 5 dollars to tell people you just rubbed one out. That's just not right. If someone PAID me 5 dollars I'll give you all the dirty details, but for me to pay, thanks but no thanks.
It's early on, just wait for those basic instincts to kick in and one day someone will be alone in the room or in the shower or on the city bus and be like "Hey, I could do it right now and no one will know..." Because THAT is how masturbation works, regardless of any bet.
I've decided, and I KNOW Jess will agree with me, that the entire group is sexually repressed and is subconciously using this opportunity as an excuse to talk openly about their jerk off habits, which would otherwise be considered taboo.
It's early on, just wait for those basic instincts to kick in and one day someone will be alone in the room or in the shower or on the city bus and be like "Hey, I could do it right now and no one will know..." Because THAT is how masturbation works, regardless of any bet.
I've decided, and I KNOW Jess will agree with me, that the entire group is sexually repressed and is subconciously using this opportunity as an excuse to talk openly about their jerk off habits, which would otherwise be considered taboo.
Good Grief
Matt just assigned everyone Greek Gods. Very interesting, and I must say that I agree with most of what he said, and am quite happy with mine. However, he gave me an idea. And since I don't feel like studying anatomy right now (latissimus dorsi!) I am going to follow in Matt's footsteps. With....PEANUTS CHARACTERS!
Snoopy: Me.
A one-man show with superior intelligence and vivid imagination. Alter ego: Joe Cool.
Charlie Brown: Matt
He has a knack for putting himself down but is also pretty clever. His friends call him "wishy-washy," but his spirit will never give up in his quest to triumph.
Woodstock: Jill
Because of his size and the company he keeps, Woodstock is an accident waiting to happen.
Linus: Baggy
He is the intellectual of the gang, and flabbergasts his friends with his philosophical revelations and solutions to problems
Lucy: Jenny
She is loud and yells a lot. She's a know-it-all who dispenses advice.
Sally: Ashley
Sally, writing letters or doing homework, causes pain and joy to her fans in roughly equal proportions.
Schroeder: Dave
Reserved and usually unruffled, Schroeder reacts only when Woodstock tries to make his grand piano into a playground.
Peppermind Patty: Jess
What she lacks in common sense she makes up for in sincerity.
Marcie: Dani
The most naive. She's always willing to help out her friends with school work and she's not above sharing test answers.
Pigpen: Christian
Pigpen is happily messy. He doesn't try to explain it, hide it, fight it. For him, it's just a fact of life.
Snoopy: Me.
A one-man show with superior intelligence and vivid imagination. Alter ego: Joe Cool.
Charlie Brown: Matt
He has a knack for putting himself down but is also pretty clever. His friends call him "wishy-washy," but his spirit will never give up in his quest to triumph.
Woodstock: Jill
Because of his size and the company he keeps, Woodstock is an accident waiting to happen.
Linus: Baggy
He is the intellectual of the gang, and flabbergasts his friends with his philosophical revelations and solutions to problems
Lucy: Jenny
She is loud and yells a lot. She's a know-it-all who dispenses advice.
Sally: Ashley
Sally, writing letters or doing homework, causes pain and joy to her fans in roughly equal proportions.
Schroeder: Dave
Reserved and usually unruffled, Schroeder reacts only when Woodstock tries to make his grand piano into a playground.
Peppermind Patty: Jess
What she lacks in common sense she makes up for in sincerity.
Marcie: Dani
The most naive. She's always willing to help out her friends with school work and she's not above sharing test answers.
Pigpen: Christian
Pigpen is happily messy. He doesn't try to explain it, hide it, fight it. For him, it's just a fact of life.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Dear Steve,
Always follow your heart. Never give up on your dreams.
Couldn't you just go to a regular school and get a business degree?
Learn to let things go.
You're funny. Do you think of all of this in your head? That's so clever.
Can you ever just be serious?
Why do you spend so much money?
How come you're so cheap?
Learn to let things go.
Embrace your individuality. Don't let anyone tell you anything different.
Why do you act so weird? Can't you be more like everyone else?
Get a job.
You have one? Get another job.
Don't let work get in the way of school, that's what is most important.
Learn to let things go.
Don't be afraid to open up to people. Show your true colors. There's nothing to be afraid of.
I don't like who you really are. Put your costume back on.
Are you afraid to let down your guard? Is this all a show?
What's the show and what's real? Can you even tell anymore?
Learn to let things go.
You don't tell people everything. You create puzzles for them to solve and then you get mad if they can't solve them and assume they just don't care to.
Puzzles aren't for everyone.
You need to get involved more. Network. Get to know people.
Sit down and relax for once.
Learn to let things go.
You aren't understanding. You don't give others a break because you don't give yourself a break. You don't trust others because you don't trust yourself.
You're young. Go out and mess up.
Don't let anyone down. They're expecting great things from you.
You've done great things already.
You've done nothing.
You wonder if you're the only one like this.
You are the only one like this.
You are not the only one like this.
Learn to let things go.
Couldn't you just go to a regular school and get a business degree?
Learn to let things go.
You're funny. Do you think of all of this in your head? That's so clever.
Can you ever just be serious?
Why do you spend so much money?
How come you're so cheap?
Learn to let things go.
Embrace your individuality. Don't let anyone tell you anything different.
Why do you act so weird? Can't you be more like everyone else?
Get a job.
You have one? Get another job.
Don't let work get in the way of school, that's what is most important.
Learn to let things go.
Don't be afraid to open up to people. Show your true colors. There's nothing to be afraid of.
I don't like who you really are. Put your costume back on.
Are you afraid to let down your guard? Is this all a show?
What's the show and what's real? Can you even tell anymore?
Learn to let things go.
You don't tell people everything. You create puzzles for them to solve and then you get mad if they can't solve them and assume they just don't care to.
Puzzles aren't for everyone.
You need to get involved more. Network. Get to know people.
Sit down and relax for once.
Learn to let things go.
You aren't understanding. You don't give others a break because you don't give yourself a break. You don't trust others because you don't trust yourself.
You're young. Go out and mess up.
Don't let anyone down. They're expecting great things from you.
You've done great things already.
You've done nothing.
You wonder if you're the only one like this.
You are the only one like this.
You are not the only one like this.
Learn to let things go.
Such a Pro
I'm going to be published. FLYMF bought my Red Robin story and it will be in their March edition. So look out for it. They are also interested in posting the rest of the series. Except for Twist & Shout. They didn't seem to like Twist & Shout. Good thing I didn't use that one as my writing sample. Exciting, nonetheless. I'm published! I like to say that.
I skipped class and an audition today. I need to put my life back together. I'm not in any way being overdramatic either. My life had completely fallen apart. I had socks all over my floor that needed to be sorted and I had homework to do. See? Fallen apart. Shattered. I couldn't go on. I couldn't go to class. We were watching Desperate Housewives anyway, so its not like I missed out on some huge scholarly endeavor.
I'm still working on the homework. Hence, I am sitting here not doing it. My Aesthetics & Storytelling II class has become that class. You know the one. God damn it I don't want to get up in the morning to go to that class. It's Monday and I'm already dreading Thursday because I hate that class. Everyone has one. I really would have thought mine would have been Body Movement but I was wrong. Our teacher wants us to write all this really personal stuff. I have no problem getting personal. That's what I do right here. I'll write about whatever, no problem. But it's like no matter how personal I write, it's never deep enough. I could write about trying to kill myself because my family died in a plane crash and I have AIDS and she'd still say that I'm only "scratching the surface." Shit. She's going to read this I bet. I know she will. She'll find it. She's one of those teachers. And she won't ever say anything to me she'll just cast me knowing looks all the time so that the entire semester I have no idea whether or not she truly knows. And I'll see her in the hall and feel awkward and not know whether I should smile and say hi or just not or what because I know she knows I know she hates me. Oh I'm in trouble now.
I skipped class and an audition today. I need to put my life back together. I'm not in any way being overdramatic either. My life had completely fallen apart. I had socks all over my floor that needed to be sorted and I had homework to do. See? Fallen apart. Shattered. I couldn't go on. I couldn't go to class. We were watching Desperate Housewives anyway, so its not like I missed out on some huge scholarly endeavor.
I'm still working on the homework. Hence, I am sitting here not doing it. My Aesthetics & Storytelling II class has become that class. You know the one. God damn it I don't want to get up in the morning to go to that class. It's Monday and I'm already dreading Thursday because I hate that class. Everyone has one. I really would have thought mine would have been Body Movement but I was wrong. Our teacher wants us to write all this really personal stuff. I have no problem getting personal. That's what I do right here. I'll write about whatever, no problem. But it's like no matter how personal I write, it's never deep enough. I could write about trying to kill myself because my family died in a plane crash and I have AIDS and she'd still say that I'm only "scratching the surface." Shit. She's going to read this I bet. I know she will. She'll find it. She's one of those teachers. And she won't ever say anything to me she'll just cast me knowing looks all the time so that the entire semester I have no idea whether or not she truly knows. And I'll see her in the hall and feel awkward and not know whether I should smile and say hi or just not or what because I know she knows I know she hates me. Oh I'm in trouble now.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
'Till Death Do Us Part
Signing up for AOL is a lifelong committment. It's not like getting a tattoo, or getting married, or having kids. AOL is something that is with you until you draw your last dying breath.
A couple of months ago, after smoking some bad crack, I decided to sign up for AOL. It was fine or whatever. First month was free and I planned on cancelled after that. About 3 days into my free month I decided that AOL was indeed pointless so I removed it from my computer. At the end of the month, I called the toll free number to cancel my account. The operator was very nice and had excellent phone presence. She clearly must like what she does. That's good, because I hate what she does. For being so friendly and helpful sounding, I figured cancelling AOL would be just as easy as signing up for it. It wasn't.
This lady was, in fact, so helpful, and so friendly, that instead of cancelled my AOL, she gave me another free month. I don't think I told her that I didn't even have the software on my computer anymore. I was on the phone for about 45 minutes, so I didn't care to. Give me another free month, fine, I'll call back again and cancel. I've been on the phone long enough.
I call again. The man I talked to was named Tyaldhaslhajweaawie and asked me if I "aosdjasntarkjadsakjhdakdawotp" or something. I don't know what he said. But he did understand me when I said the word "cancel." Now, I guess I was a day late in calling to cancel, and had already been charged for the month. Aeremdasdamtad said that he would credit my account for the month so that I didn't have to pay. However, he did not cancel my account. He said I was credited but have to call again next month to cancel it. He asked why I was leaving AOL. I said because I have free internet and don't have a job to pay for AOL. He gave me all sorts of links to websites on how to find jobs. He asked me what I was going to school for. He asked me where I was born. He asked me how I felt about women's reproductive rights. OK, he didn't ask that one, but at that point I would have been ready for it. Thanks for your help Owndaslkdaspt.
But I still had to call back a month later. And I did. And once again I had apparently called after I had been charged. Well, the operator told me I had already been charged, which is strange because my credit card statement didn't show me being charged for a good 3 or 4 days after I talked to her, but what can I do? She started the whole spiel, and basically I told her I didn't want to hear anything she had to say. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want a free month. I didn't want anything. I wanted my account cancelled. So do it.
And she did.
What a nice lady. It's those quality experiences in customer service that really make your day.
A couple of months ago, after smoking some bad crack, I decided to sign up for AOL. It was fine or whatever. First month was free and I planned on cancelled after that. About 3 days into my free month I decided that AOL was indeed pointless so I removed it from my computer. At the end of the month, I called the toll free number to cancel my account. The operator was very nice and had excellent phone presence. She clearly must like what she does. That's good, because I hate what she does. For being so friendly and helpful sounding, I figured cancelling AOL would be just as easy as signing up for it. It wasn't.
This lady was, in fact, so helpful, and so friendly, that instead of cancelled my AOL, she gave me another free month. I don't think I told her that I didn't even have the software on my computer anymore. I was on the phone for about 45 minutes, so I didn't care to. Give me another free month, fine, I'll call back again and cancel. I've been on the phone long enough.
I call again. The man I talked to was named Tyaldhaslhajweaawie and asked me if I "aosdjasntarkjadsakjhdakdawotp" or something. I don't know what he said. But he did understand me when I said the word "cancel." Now, I guess I was a day late in calling to cancel, and had already been charged for the month. Aeremdasdamtad said that he would credit my account for the month so that I didn't have to pay. However, he did not cancel my account. He said I was credited but have to call again next month to cancel it. He asked why I was leaving AOL. I said because I have free internet and don't have a job to pay for AOL. He gave me all sorts of links to websites on how to find jobs. He asked me what I was going to school for. He asked me where I was born. He asked me how I felt about women's reproductive rights. OK, he didn't ask that one, but at that point I would have been ready for it. Thanks for your help Owndaslkdaspt.
But I still had to call back a month later. And I did. And once again I had apparently called after I had been charged. Well, the operator told me I had already been charged, which is strange because my credit card statement didn't show me being charged for a good 3 or 4 days after I talked to her, but what can I do? She started the whole spiel, and basically I told her I didn't want to hear anything she had to say. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want a free month. I didn't want anything. I wanted my account cancelled. So do it.
And she did.
What a nice lady. It's those quality experiences in customer service that really make your day.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Last Time Again
I change my template every 47 seconds, I know.
But I got html savvy! Ain't it nice?
And you can still leave comments, just click the number next to the title.
Not like anyone comments anyway.
Last night was fun. We went to Sam's party at Funk for some free drinks and good times. Mandatory coat check is bullshit though. The coat "room" looked like it's also where they wash the dishes.
But I got html savvy! Ain't it nice?
And you can still leave comments, just click the number next to the title.
Not like anyone comments anyway.
Last night was fun. We went to Sam's party at Funk for some free drinks and good times. Mandatory coat check is bullshit though. The coat "room" looked like it's also where they wash the dishes.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Point of Clarification
The last thing I wrote. That wasn't supposed to be mean. People seem to have reacted to it the wrong way. I'm not saying I'm embarassed about my Columbia friends...OR my WMU friends. I just...am very uncomfortable with the idea of the two groups coming together. I've always had separate groups of friends, and I've always been very protective when it came to different people meeting each other. Do I think the Broncos will hate the art kids? Not at all. Do I think the art kids will hate the Broncos? Nope. Am I worried about my Columbia friends learning more about who I was, or my WMU friends learning more about who I've become? Well, slightly, I guess. There's things that I definitely haven't told people and maybe things are better with them not knowing.
I'm writing an essay for a scholarship I'm applying for. "What are your professional plans?" is the question. While many people will be writing "I want to help children," or "end world poverty," or something as socially relevant, mine is how I want to write for TV. So, will the people read it and embrace that my plans are different? Or will the National Italian American Foundation refuse to give money to support a television writer? Guess we'll wait and see?
I'm writing an essay for a scholarship I'm applying for. "What are your professional plans?" is the question. While many people will be writing "I want to help children," or "end world poverty," or something as socially relevant, mine is how I want to write for TV. So, will the people read it and embrace that my plans are different? Or will the National Italian American Foundation refuse to give money to support a television writer? Guess we'll wait and see?
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