Home streeeeeetch

In the Fall, I will be taking:

TV Program Development
Writing The Sitcom
Small Screen Video
Improv Techniques
Urban Geography: The Study of Cities

After that, I only have one more semester in Chicago. I'm not done with Columbia, but done in Chicago. Next summer, if all goes according to plan, I'll be taking "Writing the One-Hour Drama" on the CBS Television lot for the Semester in LA program. And from there? Who knows. My friend who is out there now just got an internship with Passions. I'm hoping with Disney and Springer under my belt, I'll be able to get some sort of job/internship out of the SLA also. Preferably something that pays. Preferably a job as a Writer's Assistant for 24, Lost, Veronica Mars, The Office, Scrubs, It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia, Nip/Tuck, or something equally as exciting. Or maybe I'll come back to Chicago. Or maybe somewhere else. Who knows?

While I don't technically graduate in Spring of 07, I am walking in the ceremony. It's the only ceremony there is, so if I want to walk, that's when I'd have to do it. And I want to walk. A lot of people don't care about it, and many just don't want to do it. But it's kind of important to me. High School graduation was important I suppose, but not that big of a deal to me. It's what you're supposed to do. But when I think about walking in Spring, I think about all that I've done since High School. Western Michigan University where I made some awesome friends, worked on the radio station, and tried to figure out who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. Orlando, Florida, where I worked full-time at Disney World for 8 months and learned what I'm capable of. Then of course, Columbia College Chicago, where I, dare I say, finished what I set out to do at WMU, learning exactly who I was and exactly what I wanted to do. Who would have imagined that in 5 years my life would change so much? When I walk in the Spring, it's the culmination of all of that. It's the beginning of....ughhhh....real life.

for your amusement

I don't understand why people continually underestimate me. Why do people see my ability to laugh at myself and take failure in stride as a weakness? Just because I can take admit to my faults doesn't mean that I don't have strengths. Perhaps my dim-witted inexperience is merely a subtle form of manipulation used to lower people's expectations and thereby enhancing my ability to effectively maneuver within any given situation?

Mediocrity and I have always walked hand in hand. I was always so-so at the sports I tried. I got decent parts in plays. I can sometimes (but not always) win at card games. I don't think there's ever been a single thing that I would say I excel at. Besides being funny, which I tend to latch onto with every ounce of my being, on account of that being about all I've got working for me. I'm not sure where I was going with this. I guess I could just stand for a few less people acting like my life is a farce in which I bumble and fail at everything.

Speaking of success, today I forgot to put on deodorant and I didn't smell at all. Despite some moisture throughout the day, there was no stench. See? And you think I'm not good at anything.

things I like: summer '06 edition
























The Office webisodes

Qdoba burritos

Orientation Leader parties













Running along the lake

Going to the beach



















Global facebook groups

Rollerblading through Lincoln Park

Working on my Off The Clock pilot

Alcohol + Mad Libs

The 4way (coming soon)

Noodle In The Pot on Halsted



















Ava Moore before discovering her "secret"






























Air conditioning

My upcoming 2 1/2 week trip back home to lay by the pool

Lincoln Park bars

Not working at the restaurant anymore

















I'll add more as they come.

And it's not even the tribal pattern like the old one

I got a credit card in the mail. No, not a credit card application, an actual, real, honest-to-God credit card. It's the same card number as my current card. So basically, if I were to activate it, they would essentially be charging to the same account. But the thing is...I didn't order a new card. My card isn't even expired. So what's the deal? I'm halfway convinced that the ineptness of the mailroom workers at the UCC has once again caused inconvenience in my life, despite the fact that I moved out two months ago. Picture this. New person living in 534. Mailroom does not check names on incoming mail, gives them my credit card bill. Person in 534 gets my card information and orders a new card, hoping that the mailroom will fuck up once more, therefore getting their hands on my credit card.

Maybe that's a little farfetched. But credit card fraud happens, people. And you should all be vigilant. It's not always like that episode of Friends wear Monica becomes best friends with the girl stealing her credit card. If you charge shit on my dime, don't expect me to start taking dance classes with you and go out and try exotic cuisine. No, I'm sorry. I'm just not that type of person. Unless you teach me salsa dancing, because who can resist salsa dancing? Credit card theft be damned, let's get steamy on the dance floor.

Last night was the Orientation Leader gathering. And what do Orientation Leaders, the smiling, friendly faces of Columbia College, the first person a new student meets, do when they get together outside of work? Get shitfaced. Millie and I were the first ones to get to Jacobs, at about...9:00. We wasted no time, and by the time other people finally started showing up, we were already hobbling around trying not to act too wasted. I can't really remember any specific moments that stood out. That is, aside from Carolyn laughing (and not just laughing, but snorting) every time I told her Jonbenet's mom died. Oh, she would just lose it.

There's nothing good on TV and I'm way too lazy to start planning on what to do tonight. Pirates of the Carribbean is on USA, but if you figure in commercials, I think it's about 6 1/2 hours long. I'd say that Project Runway is stupid, but then I would have to answer to a million people vehemently defending it. The Suite Life of Zach & Cody just makes me feel terrible for those two twins who will no doubt finish puberty with thoughts of suicide every time they think about how awkward and weird they looked on that show. I don't want to watch TV, I don't want to watch a movie, I don't want to go outside, and I don't want to play video games. If I take a nap I won't wake up until tomorrow, but I'm starting to wonder if that's really such a bad thing.

"I put my feet in the printer because I thought it was my shoes"

I haven't written in a while. Now I don't know what to talk about or where to even start. I suppose it really doesn't matter, since I will inevitably get sidetracked and go on some inane tangent anyway.

I should at least mention my night with Jess Dangles. That should take priority over everything else that I may want to talk about. You see, Jess and I really should have a babysitter. Because we are children. We talk like children and we act like children. And alcohol only exacerbates this tendency. Perhaps I should mention the picture we took of putting our heads in the oven. Or the somersaults off of her brothers bed. Or rapping to 50 Cent and L'il Kim's "Magic Stick" at least 50 times. And let's not forget the mad libs. Walking over to her place, I knew that drunk mad libs with Dangles was going to be the icing on the cake. Unfortunately, due to the extreme amount of disgusting, volatile, racist, crude, and utterly filthy language we chose to use in said mad libs, I don't feel that this is a good place to post them.

Orientation is going well. Getting up at six definitely sucks. By the time I get home, all I want to do is pass out. But if I pass out, then I won't be able to sleep at night. Hence, I won't be able to wake up for work at six. Speaking of Catch 22, I haven't read any of it since I quit My Pie. Guess I should start taking it to work, since the biggest challenge an OL has to face is how to survive an insanely long and boring amount of downtime.

I burnt popcorn earlier. Bad. It lit on fire. I didn't even have it in for the full time I was supposed to. Now the whole apartment smells like it, and I'm just glad I'll be in bed before Matt gets home from work and says "Who the hell burnt something?!?!?" Sorry Matt. I had to pretty much fill the entire popcorn bag with water to stop it from smoking. Then I just threw it out. In retrospect, I should have taken it to the dumpster. Oh well, hindsight is 20/20. And I'm not home all day tomorrow anyway.

My new addiction (aside from renting Veronica Mars on DVD) is reading boring people's blogs. I don't know what it is, but I can't get enough of certain people's journals. I'm sure you know the kind I'm talking about. The ones where you read and just can't quite figure out why the author is even bothering to record such tedious and inconsequential things. Like what color garbage bags they bought or how much their suitcase weighed at the airport. For some reason, despite the fact that these blogs are less interesting than reading my grandmas grocery list, or hell, even the phonebook, I am thoroughly entertained. I find it funny. I laugh out loud sometimes. And the worst part? Most of the blogs I read? I don't even know the people writing them...

And who do I think I am to sit here and say that my blog is any better?

Oh come on. Face it.

Lastly, I want to make sure everyone has heard, or is at least aware of, Fergie (from the Black Eyed Peas) and her new solo song, "London Bridge (Oh Shit)" I think this is important, because never in our lives, will we ever witness lyrical genius that can even be compared to lines such as "Grey Goose got my girls feelin loose, and I'm wishin' that I didn't wear these shoes" Generations before us their was John Lennon. And now? "London Bridge (Oh Shit)"

How come every time you come around
My London London bridge wanna go down
Like London London what? It's goin' down.

And you thought "My Humps" was a masterpiece.

Frankie says relax

So I suppose there is indeed such thing as fate. I don't know whether or not I believed in it before. I guess nothing ever really happened that I could attribute to fate. But now there is. Now I'm a believer. (Not a trace of doubt in my mind....sorry)

On Saturday I was on the phone with my mom. I was telling her how I don't want to go back to work ever again because the mexicans in the back make fun of me in Spanish and I just don't like having to deal with that. I told her I wanted to just go home but couldn't because a bus or train ticket was too much. I told her if I could just get home I wouldn't even care if I never went back to work. I told her I didn't know what to do, that I didn't want to be irresponsible and immature, but I just didn't want to go back to My Pie.

If only I had a reason to stop going.

And then, while on the phone telling my mom I didn't want to go to work and I wanted to go home, my cousin calls. She says she'll give me 50 dollars if I go walk the dog later. Well, there's a pretty good excuse to not go into work. My cousin, who is the only person I know of who has had more jobs than me, gives me a pretty good reason not to go back to the restaurant. Then she offers me a ride back home Sunday morning. How perfect. 50 dollars to not go back to work, and a ride home. This all happens at the very same moment I had been telling my mom I wanted to quit work and go home. See? Fate.

Anyway, my whole family was in, including my brother, his girlfriend, and my grandparents, so it was really nice to be able to go home. Even though I was there for less than 48 hours. When I talked to my grandma on the phone and told her I would be home on Sunday, she sounded really excited. My mom and aunt were really excited too. I feel bad for what I did to all of the employees at My Pie, but...it was really really good to see my family. And that alone made it worth it.

It was a relaxing day and a half of lounging by the pool, lounging in the living room, and lounging about in other places as well. With a little bit of shopping with Mom and drinking with Brother. My biggest regret isn't quitting my work. It's that Summer is halfway over almost and this was the first time I really got to just relax.

That's Hawt

My apartment has no hot water, so I can't shower. The landlord called and said someone was coming over here to fix our hot water heater, so we'll wait and see. At this point I think it is either being fixed or is fixed entirely, because if you try to get hot water, it doesn't come out cold. It doesn't come out hot, either, but last night there was no trace of warmth whatsoever. This leads me to believe that the pump has been fixed, but the hot water needs to be made. So I'm waiting for our hot water heater to whip up a batch of hot water.

I wouldn't be writing this if I had hot water. I'd be shaving and showering. In hot water. But I don't want to shave or shower with cold water. Nothing in the world is worse than showering in cold water. Although shaving with cold water is a close close second. I don't work until 5 so as long as there's hot water by 4:30 (or even 4:45, like I'm ever on time) then there won't be a problem. I just need hot water so I can go to work and feel fresh because without hot water I won't feel fresh and clean. I'll feel cold and most certainly unfresh. So come on, hot water.

I know what you're thinking. The answer is 11. Go ahead and count it.

How to quit my job...that's the biggest issue I'm facing right now. I've known for several weeks that orientation was starting soon. And about 2 weeks ago I made the decision to leave My Pie for it. Well, I've definitely been putting off the whole ordeal of quitting. I'm afraid. I've never been good at it. What do I say? Sure, My Pie Pizzeria has been around for about 30 years, but will it last one day without me? I doubt it. I'd say that today is the day. That I'm going to go in and tell my manager the truth. The "truth," of course, being that I just found out I got the orientation job today, and that I would like to come back to the restaurant to work in about a month and a half. Some of that might be fiction. Some. Not all. I mean, the part about me leaving for orientation is true. Maybe I didn't JUST find out about orientation and maybe I DON'T plan on going back afterwards, but they don't need to know that. Useless facts! My boss has a restaurant to run! He can't be bogged down with useless facts!

I'll figure something out. I haven't really "quit" many jobs. I've had them go out of business, I've gone on vacation and never come back, I've written notes and stopped showing up, I've stopped showing up without writing a note, I've left because it was only a summer job, but the only time I actually put in 2 weeks and let them know what was up was Old Navy. Java City too. Well, not really Java City because they wouldn't have kept me for the summer anyway.

Time to check for hot water.

Let's Get Literary

The best part of my job is how much I get to read. I've already finished Choke, Bonfire of the Vanities, and Thank You For Smoking. Choke was pretty good, but I've heard it's not Palahniuk's best. Another guy at work is reading Haunted and once he's done we're gonna trade. Bonfire of the Vanities, I've read before, and continue to love just as much. It's a long one. Not an easy read, but one of my favorite books by far. Thank You For Smoking was good. But...just good. I though I'd love it. I thought I'd be raving and not be able to put it down. Well, I liked it a lot. But it was easy to put down. I loved the end though. I really do need to see the movie. Now I'm on to Catch 22. I've never read it, even though I probably set some sort of world record for how many times I've checked it out of the library. Now I own it and plan on actually opening it.

I can't wait for Orientation to start. I don't know what I'm going to do about my job at the restaurant (still haven't told them) and the more I think about, the less sure I am if I even want to go back. I'm going to try and leave that door open, just in case I end up needing a job, but I'm hoping that orientation can segue into a job on campus. Preferably a job with the orientation office. I don't mind the restaurant. It's just the hours that get to me. I hate working nights. I spend all day dreading the fact that I have to go in. Also, I'm just done with customer service at this point. The fact that I wrote chapter 7 last week and I'm still not halfway through my jobs is proof that I've put in my time.

I registered my Off The Clock treatment. That was exciting. Now no one can take my idea, and Kristin is out in LA right now. Probably showing it to all the major Hollywood players. I just hope I can finish school before someone buys it and makes me rich. I'm about halfway done with my script for the pilot. Not that you care. I don't want to be one of those boring journals where people start to skim because the author lost their attention. Shit, you aren't skimming, are you? Fuck you for skimming! Ok, first person to comment and says they didn't skim gets an Arctic Orange milkshake at McDonalds on me. Bribery works wonders. But yeah, I do want to finish my Off The Clock script sometime before the end of the summer. That's my biggest goal.

America's Got Problems

The cover of the Red Eye says "Lollapa-Line-Up" Yes, folks, summer in Chicago now not only signifies an abundance of sweaty tourists, fireworks at Navy Pier, and free Argo Tea Samples, but also the criminal overuse of sayings that either start with "Lolla" or end with "Palooza" Don't be a Lollapaloser! See? It's catching. Soon it will be everywhere. I think I'm going to start a running count of how many times this happens. I'm guessing the Red Eye will account for about 98% of these offenses.

Speaking of offenses. I did manage to watch America's Got Talent. And I hope everyone else did as well. Simon Cowell had a brilliant idea when he decided to bring back Star Search. Only take the already overused format of American Idol and mix that in. Brandy is of the Paula Abdul "I have no real opinion" school of judging. The only time Brandy exercises any sort of backbone is after every act she DEMANDS that the three judges come to a vote. As if David Hasselhoff and the british guy would forget to vote, had Brandy not been there the forcefully remind them. If the brit, Davey, and yourself are all giving POSITIVE feedback, then why do you feel inclined to call it to a vote. Obviously, the contestant is going on. It's like she's that girl in preschool that forced everyone to be in her little club and do everything the way she wanted. Fuckin' Angelica Pickles is bringin' shit to a vizote. Oh and she's sneaky. Did you notice that she makes the brit vote first. Then David. Then, if they both vote no, she doesn't have to! Majority rules! Moesha is never cruel! And the british guy is nothing but a ripoff of Simon Cowell. Every reality show with judges now must have a snarky man from Londontown to tear the people apart. "Your singing is worse than an earwig in my ear." Clever. I can see why they pay you the big bucks.

I liked the pirate who played the nose flute. Believe it or not, when I was in Hawaii in 6th grade with People to People, we got nose flutes made out of bamboo. My mom stepped on it and broke it a few months later, now that I think of it. Anyway, we got the nose flutes and pretty much messed around with them for about a day before shoving them to the backs of our suitcases. However, in that one day of half-ass practicing, I think I gained more nose flute talent than that guy had. I liked when he tore apart the judges, though. He asked Brandy why she hasn't released a huge hit lately. Oh he had sass. And the pirate costume. Sass and style? America's got it.

I don't like that Hugh Grant would continually reach over and press David's buzzer too. I mean, granted, David is a little generous on the buzzer time. He'd probably even enjoy watching my cousin floss her dog. But there's a reason that there are 3 judges. If they didn't want three separate judges, they'd just have Rupert Everett sit there with 3 buzzers. He buzzes way too early. The complete opposite of David. It's like David is chocolate ice cream, and Ewan McGreger is vanilla. Brandy is halfway between. She's twist ice cream. Wait, shouldn't she be chocolate? Hmmm...nevermind.

Oh, Regis. I get the feeling that Regis just doesn't like to be at home. He probably is lonely, has no wife and kids, and keeps busy with work and other things so that he never has to face the emptiness that is his personal life. Or maybe I have it backwards. Maybe Regis does, indeed, have a wife and kids. He just hates them.

What is it with talent shows? Aren't we running out of people to be on them? I mean, clearly we're scraping the bottom of the barrell with this one. The harp lady? The dancing cow? I mean, American Idol at least messes with the audition process so that only the really bad and really good people go on in front of the judges. Is there no sort of screening implimentation set up? There should be. True, sometimes it's fun to see people suck terribly. And it's always heartwarming to see that little 13 year old girl belt her heart out (and make Brandy harken back to her tween years when she was something special), but it's the mediocre ones that just drag it all down the shitter.

Then again, summer isn't the time when you want to watch anything deep and thought provoking. I'm still getting over the season finale of Lost, and that was like a month ago. So it's nice to have mindless garbage like this to blog about. Oh, and I hated when the british guy told the bird trainer that if he had an hour with her bird he could make it talk too. That's fucking uncalled for. That lady is a professional who no doubt works hard at what she does, and then she's putting herself out there for the whole world to critique. Have some fucking respect, dude. At least she has a real talent. A real job. Not that being friends with Princess Diana and shaking Diana Ross' hand isn't super cool and all, but do you really think you're something special?

I'm glad she stood up to him. Way to go, bird lady. See you at the Universal City Walk! I'll throw a dollar in your hat.

Fall Out Boy is always in my shower

It never fails. Every time I take a shower, I turn on the radio, and every time I turn on the radio, "Sugar We're Going Down" is playing. What is this? 2005? I really didn't mind the song at first, but at this point, I have to wonder why the radio station thinks people still want to hear a song that was pounded into their brains 43949348 times already. It's probably because of The Mix's no-repeat work days. If they can't play the new Kelly Clarkson song to death, they have to make room for other songs. Everyone (anyone?) who was worried they would never hear "Sugar We're Going Down" can rest easy. It's on every afternoon when I'm in the shower. So just give me a call, ask when I'm gonna be in the shower, turn on The Mix, and rock out. I'm just a notch in your bedpost but you're just a line in a song...

Orientation starts in a few weeks. And I have a problem. A problem that will soon become a debacle. And after that, a full-fledged fiasco. Right now I am working at the restaurant. A solid part time job. About 25 hours a week. Well, when orientation starts, that's basically a full-time job. Every day 7:30 until aout 4 or 5. I don't know if I can handle working about 40 hours a week for orientation AND 25 at My Pie. That would be about 65 hours a week. On top of that, I wouldn't have a day off in about a month. Monday-Friday would be 7:30-5. Then on top of that, Wednesday 5-10, and Friday 5-12. Oh, and Saturdays 5-10, Sunday 4-10. I know the summer is time to make money, but it's also time to relax and...enjoy summer. So I think I might tell the restaurant I'm going to need some time off. Since there's only two hosts and both are needed every weekend, there's a good chance that this means my job won't be waiting for me when I get back.

I also need to finish my treatment so I can register it with the WGA before Kristin goes to LA so that she can talk up Off The Clock with people. I'm just so damn lazy these days I can't get anything done. Like today. It's super nice out. I could go for a run. Go to the beach. Go do anything outside. But I don't want to. Why? Because I work later. I just want to sit around and do absolutely nothing until I have to. Tomorrow, on the other hand, it will be 94, so I will definitely be hitting the beach before work.

My biggest problem is if I have nothing to get up for, I just don't get up. I can wake myself at 9 or 10. I really can. No problem. But I'm not going to get up that early just to sit and watch tv and play on the internet. Go somewhere? Go where? Hang out? Everyone's at work or still sleeping. So I end up sleeping until noon or so, then feeling like a lazy bastard. Luckily orientation is coming. Then I'll be back in routine. Work all day, come home and hang out. Weekends off. I love routine.

That's Entertainment

When we moved into the apartment, we drew names out of a hat to get rooms. I got the one I wanted. It was the one with the window facing the front. Facing the street. Also, it's apparently the biggest. Although when all the rooms were empty, I didn't notice that. I just wanted to face the street.

Now, my apartment is on the first floor. And Lincoln Park is not for having approximately 92,000 bars. When I was choosing my room, it didn't occur to me how many drunk, crazy, shouting people would be walking down my street, right past my window, at all hours of the night. At first this bothered me. I had to buy ear plugs, no joke. And I was starting to get really pissed about these people making such a scene when I'm trying to go to bed.

However, now I find it entertaining. Because it seems that every group of drunk people walking down Lill at 2 in the morning is having a miserable time. And I love it. The other night this girl was yelling and crying because she lost her necklace, or bracelet or something. They were there for a good long time looking for it on the sidewalk. Oh, and it was raining. Ha!

I've listened to at least 3 couples break up in the past week. And it's always the girl who won't stop screaming and swearing. In fact (don't be surprised because it's Lincoln Park, remember), it's always the girls that are screaming and cussing and angry. The guys for the most part are just having a good time and being crazy. The girls don't. Last night a couple broke up and this girl was yelling and yelling and calling her boyfriend an asshole and a fucker and all sorts of things. Then she started to cry. Ha!

Feel bad for her? Fuck that. I listen to this shit every night of the week.

Speaking of entertainment, I have a summer full of TV ahead of me. Now, last year the only thing I watched all the time was Lost. Sure, I got every episode of The Office on iTunes. And I caught up with Scrubs and 24 on DVD. But Lost was the only thing that I watched on a weekly basis. But now...

Monday- Fresh Meat Challenge. After missing out on Battle of the Sexes 2, Gauntlet 2, and Inferno 2, I'm sucked into the newest one. They hate the Austin cast and are trying to send them all home. Melinda and Danny are gone. My money is Johanna won't last much longer. I never even watched Real World Austin but these kids suck.

Tuesday- Last Comic Standing. Always a staple in my summer television viewing. I was addicted to the second season when I was in Florida. My favorite guy, John Heffron, even won. Jay Mohr isn't hosting anymore but he didn't really do anything funny ever anyway. Not entirely happy with how the finals are going. A lot of my favorites didn't make it. But we'll see. The guy with cerebral palsy will most likely win.

Thursday- I got sucked into the first episode of the show where they all win the lottery. I probably wouldn't have watched it, but since the MTV Movie Awards were the lamest piece of shit ever, I had no other choice. I like the black girl that delivers pizzas and didn't even know she won the lottery. And now some bitch is coming in and saying that the unclaimed dollar was hers. If I remember to watch, it should be interesting. Good thing it's a summer show because My Name is Earl and The Office own my Thursdays in the Fall.

I got the first episode of last season of 24 for free on myspace. Now I'm in a pickle because I don't want to buy the rest of the season but that episode was so fucking good. What am going to do? I'll see if I can get Matt to download them all illegally. I don't care about piracy. Not on shows like 24 that 3049830352 people are watching.

It's Always Sunny In Philidephia starts soon. Next week I think. If you like Arrested Development or Scrubs you should definitely watch it. They even get to say "shit" in it. And Danny DeVito is joining the cast? What?

I don't have HBO so I can't watch season 3 of Entourage, but I never finished season 2. That just came to DVD so I'll be picking that up as soon as I get paid. I never got to see what happened with the Aquaman movie because I had to move out of the frat house.

Chapter 7: The Inevitable Arrival of the FNG

Leaving PacSun wasn't hard at all. Still to this day, I consider the earlier months of Pacific Sunwear to be one of my best job experiences. I liked it there. Until Satan himself took on the form of an overweight forty-something with no life ambition beyond retail management. Then it wasn't quite the same. About 2 weeks after I left Pat ended up leaving too. Isn't that ironic? He got a job at Marshall Fields or something that was apparently his "dream job" that he just couldn't pass up. I always wondered what position there was at Marshall Fields that any normal human being would call a "dream job." I'd assume the Ticket Master booth. Or maybe mattress sales.

So after leaving PacSun, I was now employed only at Leslie's Pool Supply. Sure, it was tough adapting to only receiving one paycheck now, because I surely did look forward to my bi-weekly payments of $23.47 from PacSun, but hey, when life hands you lemons...

For the first time since Twist & Shout (the first time) I had this strange feeling of freedom. Leslie's was not nearly as corporate as Red Robin, Best Buy, Old Navy, or PacSun. Yes, PacSun is extremely corporate. Sure, they fool you by employing youngsters who wear t-shirts and studded belts with devil-may-care attitudes, but I assure you, there's quite a bit of politics going on behind the scenes. At Leslie's, there wasn't a week of training. There was no orientation. There were no poorly written and horribly acted videos explaining what to do in the event of a shoplifter. By all means, we weren't jumping off the walls and freebasing in the parking lot. We still had Leslie's t-shirts to wear, and don't even think of coming in without a name tag, but demeaning acts such as suggestive selling and "the customer is always right" did not live so prominently here. Mostly because our job was to sell pool supplies to pool owners. This is quite different then finding Amber the perfect top to go with those pleated shorts. Pool owners come in knowing exactly what they need. And we get it for them and sell it. You can't really fuck with that. You can't suggest other chemicals when all they need is chlorine.

A lot of people came in with water samples for us to test. This was far and away my favorite thing to do. Putting in all the different colored drops to make the water change color. Then you take the results back to Diendre, the manager. He goes through his little book, tells you what chemicals they need, and you go and get them. Easy as pie. Easier than pie, actually. More like no-bake brownies.

The problems only arose when people tried to act smarter than us. As if they knew exactly what was wrong with their pool. They knew what chemicals were needed and didn't agree with our diagnosis. That's because the people who came to Leslie's were all extremely rich and Jewish. No offense to my Jewish brothers. I'm not saying all Jewish people are jerks. I'm not saying all Jewish people with money are jerks. I'm saying...all Jewish people with money who own pools are FUCKING ASSHOLES.

A gentleman may come in with a water sample, complaining that his pool is green. We do the test, and it is decided that he needs to shock his pool, then add a gallon of Bright N' Clear, then use some No-Phos for maintenance.

"No-Phos! I've never used No-Phos! I'm not going to buy that because I don't need it!"

Then he comes in 2 weeks later complaining that his pool is still green, and it's our fault. That sort of thing. Or one time this guy bought a huge heavy bucket of chlorine. After paying for it, he walked out of the store, leaving the bucket on the floor in front of the counter. About 30 seconds later he walked back in, looked at me like I was an idiot, and said, "Well? Aren't you going to carry it to my car?" That sort of thing.

Aside from Amanda and Diendre I don't really remember the names of the people at Leslie's. I was only there for like two months. If I were to put on a parade of all the jobs I've had, Leslie's probably wouldn't even have a float. Just a couple of people throwing Jolly Ranchers out of the back of a Sebring convertible.

But I do remember Marguerite. You don't easily forget a person like Marguerite. Mostly because she was maybe insane. She reminded me of Pat from Saturday Night Live. Imagine if you finally discovered Pat was a woman. Now add about 15-20 years. That's Marguerite. She never really did anything funny. I don't have any stories or anecdotes to share on the silliness that was Marguerite. She was just there. And crazy.

Also there was the assistant manager. Matt. Or Mike. Or Gerald. Hell if I know. The only thing I remember about him was that he'd sit on top of big crates of highly flammable chemicals, smoking cigarettes. He was alright. I never blew up, so I can't complain. Also there was a girl who I think was named Courtney but could have been Whitney who was going to MSU to get a degree in meat packaging or something. I found that to be extremely interesting. Did you know that Taco Bell beef is grade D because the grades are only based on the size of the animal? Well, now you do. Tell your friends. Think outside the bun.

As I said, I had a lot more freedom at Leslie's. I didn't feel like I was being suffocated by corporate bullshit. Because of that, I started to come out of the shell that I had built up around myself because of places like Red Robin and Old Navy. I started to be myself. I started to be funny. What did this mean? Heavy doses of sarcasm. Off-hand comments such as "Tell the bitch to drain her pool so she stops coming in here" became commonplace. And every time I said something like that, Diendre would say "Fuckin' new guy..." Which is how I got the nickname FNG. After being there for over a month, I was still the FNG. If anyone had been hired after me, I'd still be the FNG.

As August rolled around, business slowed. People were getting ready to close their pools, and we didn't need as many people on the clock. Naturally, the policy was "last hired, first fired," so I was the first to go. Mind you, I wasn't exactly fired. I was "let go." But that doesn't rhyme with "hired."

Summa Tom

It's been nice the past couple of days and I can't help but NOT want to be in my apartment at all during the day. By far my favorite new activity is going to the beach, which I've done two days in a row now. Yesterday I went for a run along the lake, and today I skated down there and laid in the sand. I also took Shilo to the beach and park by Navy Pier. Proving to be a little too hot for her taste, the second we got to a fountain in the park she hopped in and laid down in the water.

The problem I have with the beach and the nice weather is there are too many people. Too many tourists who don't have the slightest instict to be at least somewhat vigilant of their surroundings and always have no idea whatsoever that anyone is behind them trying to get by. Too many fat hairy men with their shirts off. Statistics will prove that 98 percent of fat men who take their shirts off in public have hairy backs. Look it up, it's the truth. I swear. Too many muscular guys with no shirts on that make me feel bad about myself, also. Although I've stolen a bunch of free one-day passes to the Lincoln Park Athletic Club so perhaps one day I too will be a buff stud on the beach.

When I was skating back from the beach, I took a long route. Not because I wanted to, but because there's a slight incline on Fullerton right before Clark, and for some reason there was this very wide man in a very wide wheelchair slowly making his way down the hill backwards. I didn't know what he was doing or if he needed help, but I did know that I am a terrible skater, and therefore not the one who could be of service to him. So I went up a few blocks and took Diversey down. This time, I accidently cut off a guy driving one of those electric carts like they have at Disney World and Kroger. I figured that cutting him off wasn't such a bad thing to do, because unlike me, he knew how to operate his breaks. He yelled at me, which I thought was uncalled for. Dude, if you're in such a fucking hurry than how about you drive a CAR instead of your little motor scooter hoveround bullshit.

We called them ECV's at Disney World. Electronic Convenience Vehicle, or something. What's funny is for the most part the people who used them were the 600 pound Americans (because foreign people aren't as fat and lazy, trust me) who probably could use a good bit of exercise for the day. Now it's a 50 dollar deposit on those things. People had quite a problem with that. The fat people generally didn't argue with the deposit. They already had to admit that their own legs could no longer carry their enormous body for extended periods of time, and the last thing they were going to do was get fussy over the price of a scooter. The old people complained the most. They were "too old" to walk around the entire park and didn't understand why they had to be "ripped off." Mind you, there were wheelchairs that were only a four dollar deposit, which would also be effective in keeping the elderly off their feet. In my experience at Disney, old people (and black people, for that matter) always have an underlying suspicion that the system is trying to screw them over. Now, granted, 9 times out of 10, the system most definitely IS screwing them over. However, that 1 other time, the time when you are trying to rent an electric scooter from Disney World but have to leave a 50 dollar deposit, that's for loss prevention purposes, not for screwing you over. ECV's are expensive, and they don't want you to steal it. Although, if you tried to, you wouldn't get far. Even the fattest people could probably outrun one of those things. Not to mention the challenge you'd face when trying to get through the turnstiles.

















"Fifty bucks?! Why I oughta..."

New York is all upset because their Anti-Terrorism funding was cut by 40 percent. They are rallying to the government to get more.

Oh, shut up, New York. You had your moment. You think you're SOOOO COOL and you're going to get ALL the terrorist attacks because you're just so pretty and popular, don't you. Well guess what, you're not. You're old hat, my friend.

Do you remember the last attack? Terrorists hijacked planes and flew them into buildings. Those suckers have got panache. Do you really think they'd repeat themselves? I mean seriously. Would Julia Roberts wear the same dress to two award shows? Doubt it. They're going to be going for something new. Something cutting edge. Something...au courant. Like Omaha.

Look, you had September 11th, New York. You were totally in the spotlight. We cried with you. We prayed for you. We fought for you. And I mean, we totally still heart NY, don't get me wrong. It's just...we don't think you're a terrorist target anymore. And you know how America is. Always attracted to the bad boys. The ones who live dangerously. So you'll understand why money is going to Omaha for Anti-Terrorism efforts. If the government gave you 40 million more, what would you really do with it. Help wash your grandma's hair and go buy pencil cases, I imagine.

Deuce Deuce

The problem with getting off work at Midnight is that it's not early but it's not late. If you get off work early, your whole night is ahead of you. If you get off work late, you simply go home, lay down, dick around on overheardinchicago.com, and pass out. But when you get off at midnight, you have to choose between the two. Go out? Stay in? Walking back from My Pie the sidewalks of Lincoln Park are crawling with tipsy bargoers. Do I want to join them? Or am I ready to call it a night?

Tonight, my choice was simple. I called Matt and found out that everyone had gone to Stunkel's but was already on their way home. Therefore, my decision was easy. Go home, open a Blue Moon, and chilax.

My birthday was yesterday. It was pretty good. I guess there's a stigma that after turning 21 there's nothing to look forward to in a birthday. I did my best to avoid that feeling. There's still plenty to look forward to after turning 21. Like checking your facebook and finding 30 wall edits of people wishing you a happy birthday. Like checking your voicemail and having all of your family and close friends wishing you a good one. Like having a party at Tequila Roadhouse and having a bunch of people come out to celebrate and grab some free drinks. So yeah, it was a good birthday. Matt and Jeff got me an M&M ice cream cake which made it even more exciting.

We're pretty much moved into the new apartment. For the most part everything is unpacked and put away. We still have some boxes and things that need to be put away, but it's starting to feel like home. I like it a lot. The only thing is it's a lot more lonely when no one is around. Not like the UC where you could always find someone else who was home. But it's fun to be living in your own place. And having already done this living on my own thing before, I have all of the things I need. A desk, dresser, rug, etc.

The past week has been a lot of fun. I've hung out with Zach a lot, which is cool since I really didn't see him a lot during second semester. We went to Ikea and bought shit and then hung out with Dangles on Monday. That was a lot of fun. He drove me back to my apartment in his big Budget Rental Truck afterwards. It was a fun ride except for the part where the seat belt choked me and I got stuck in it. Tuesday Jess and I went with Zach to return said truck. This involved driving into the ghetto. We were harassed, whistled at, and asked if we wanted to buy batteries. Afterwards we picked up Jill and Zach made spaghetti. And Jess told us the FUNNIEST story about a wedding she went to. I don't want to spoil it for you though. Ask her yourself! Wednesday Ashley came to town. We went to the pet store and Target and then over to Dan's to watch Lost. It was also fun. I'm going to miss Ashley next year but New York is going to be awesome and it gives me a good reason to go, since I've never been. Thursday it was back to Ikea with Zach because they "drilled the holes in the chairs wrong," he claimed. Nope, turns out Zach used the wrong screws. Good job, Zachary. After that I went to Christine's with Jeff and Matt, in our first outing together since moving into the apartment.

And since I'm sure I've bored you to tears, I'll end it here.

Workin for the money

So when I started hosting at Red Robin, I had a 3 hour orientation. I also had days of training.

My orientation at My Pie basically consisted of "Christina is the other host. She'll tell you what to do."

My training at My Pie basically consisted of "Ummm...just take some menus and seat them wherever. Try to spread them out, though."

I'm getting paid pretty decent. There are only two hosts, Christina and me. We only work Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Kind of sucks because there goes every weekend night, but hey, summer is almost here. Every day is the weekend. Plus usually one host gets off a little earlier so basically I'll be working until midnight one night and 10ish another. Not too bad. Works well in conjunction with dog walking and orientation. By the end of the summer I'll hopefully be a server and then I won't just be working just weekend nights.

The place is very laid back. And I mean...very laid back. I like that a lot about it. I can sit around and read when we aren't busy and no one cares. Speaking of not busy, we were absolutely DEAD last night. Someone left The DaVinci Code in the host stand so I started to read it. I'll probably bring my own book tonight although it will probably end up being busier.

Oh, and I can wear whatever I want.

Basically its everything Disney World wasn't.

A lot of people that live in Lincoln Park are bitches though.

pizza pizza

Almost done with school. Finished most of my projects. Now I just have a very long paper to write by Thursday and that's it. I presented my Super Hero project on Wednesday. I performed my final movement piece. I did my final scene. Monday I present The Project which I just finished last night and will soon have on a DVD for all to see.

I got a job. It's at My Pie, a pizza restaurant in Lincoln Park. Close to the new apartment so that's a bonus. I interviewed at Dick's Last Resort on Wednesday but I haven't heard from them so I took the job I was offered at My Pie. If they do offer me a job, I suppose my employment plans may be changing.

I had pink eye this week, which sucked. This is my first day since Sunday with a contact in my right eye. Since I didn't have glasses it kind of sucked having one contact in. Oh depth perception, how I've missed you. Time to go walk the dog so I have time to sit around and do nothing before work.

Mr Waters

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.

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.

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.