View from a grassy knoll

2:10 p.m. dorky, dorkier, dorkiest 2003-05-30

Reaped So, going back to the Big confrontation, I got the �professionalism� speech.
So what. Me & BossLady get along well. It�s not a problem. It came down to 2 words in an email that made her feel bad. An email not even sent directly to her. It was interesting, explaining to BossLady how the offensive sarcasm was not directed at her, but the HeadCase I share an office with.
[Who�s probably reading this right now, aren�t ya?]
So I learned a lesson: check yo�self before yo wiggedy-wreck yo�self. Then I locked up that rant.
Yeah. Blah.
I hate doing that. Censoring myself. Sometimes it�s a necessary evil, but it drives the nature of this work from fact to fiction. As much as it can. Some argue everything is fiction we make up from our brain vats anyway. Big Whoop.
Summertime it always seems harder to update everyday. Especially now with the Crab back in the house, & nosy people at work, and maintaining an air of professionalism & all that. I�m paranoid to login to dland from work. There�s no way to be terminated for anything I�ve done here, but I wouldn�t want too many people here knowing about the journal, for sake of certain lifestyle choices.
Just sucks that someone can be openly gay but not openly stonerific. My life would be so much easier.
You know who I don�t care for? Creepy Systems L1brar1an. Bi-polar middle-aged women hater with a lush�s nose that�s seen soberer days. Talks to skirts as if they�ve never seen a computer before in their life. Of course he�s best buds with Crazy Off1cemate. I stopped talking to him after saying hi on a couple of his downward spirals. At best you�d get a snotty look, at worst a terse �go away!� Nice warning, but not a good way to maintain a professional atmosphere. He was just over here pushing in reference chairs. Since the silent treatment began he looks for reasons to hover. It�d be interesting if he�s reading this too. He�d be interested to know I know all about how his teenage son shot some guy in the face with his gun, & how that somehow translated into the Univ. permanently banning him from all contact with minors, though it�s not really punishment since he�s assistant director to something or other nowadays. Asst. Director to asshole behavior & quiet misogyny, that�s what I�m saying. I hear most of this from C1rcgrrl, so it�s all pseudo-gossip anyway.
Saw the Matrix sequel. This time we tried to beat the odds at the Prytania, an old local theater with crappy sound. Some homeless guy was snoring in the back most of the movie. That didn�t deter my attention too much though. Much less than oh, A FIRE ALARM, say. & you could only tell during dialogue anyway. So my dweeb fix is sated for another coupla months. But ah, the Skywalker parallels. ( ED: Get over it if you haven�t seen it, four weeks is enough. ) You�ve been reborn six times?? What, is the man-who-cuts-his-hand his brother too? Will Neo join the dark side with the Architect? Unfortunately the 30 second trailer didn�t tell me much. Except not to buy the Matrix Reloaded soundtrack & that they had A LOT of people on CGI. Geesh.
I'm tired. Matt left for Chicago this morning, so we went & drank him goodbye last night. I love having a bar run by friends of friends. Especially when the friend is there & hands me a free shot 2 seconds after I walk in the door. It was a red snapper: amaretto, crown & cran. Tastes like cough syrup, but as Bart said, 'good for what ails ya', which in his case was his stolen Vespa, recently recovered in a ditch in Gentilly, where all good stolen vehicles eventually turn up. Kinda sad Matt's gone, though in a way not too much, since I now have 2 people living near Chicago to visit, one of which is in the super ritzy Frank Lloyd Wright part.
See now, typing away here at the reference desk under the anonymous profile is all fine & good, but all they gotta do is check the schedule & they'll know who went to what.
That's what my subconscious is telling me. The awake part of my brain says, who cares, they don't or you'd be busted by now anyway, and isn't it time to call your gramma, the one you've not spoken too since the Mother's day from Hell?
Heh. Fuck you reality. I'm the sixth version of this program & dammit, I'm saving the girl this time. That is to say, by rambling incoherently.
It's good to do this occasionally. Makes this feel like a reeeeal journal. Like I'm Doogie Howser or some shit. 'Cept Doogie was pre-Internet. Though I'm sure he did BBS, like any super dork genius.
What, I can speculate on the personal lives of fictional characters if I wanna, so there.
Starship Troopers was on TNT the other night, we stayed up watching it. Doogie's in that: he's the psychic scientist. The best thing about watching SF w/ other dorks is you can debate the finer things, like how Heinlein can kick everyone's ass, the book vs. the movie, how it'd be truer to the story had the soldiers mechanized armor (Matrix! Had! It!)
like they shoulda, & how many different ways Denise Richards should be violated. Mmmmmm, Denise Richards *garaharowlahalrffogardrool*.
Yeah, I'd do her. But apparently I'd also do m1ke if my subconscious has anything to say about it. Very disturbing, but not that surprising, to have making-out dreams aabout someone you hang around with all the time. but damn, I wanna write about it but then some people will read it & be like, "What, you're having WET DREAMS about m1ke?" Which is not what I said at all, and this pisses me off, since this usually happens in front of people who then want to know the whole story so I'm gonna shut up the topic now and pose a question instead: In groups of "couples friends" (the even four or whatever) is it normal to have dreams like that? Fuck it. Nevermind. Just wondering, but really i don't wanna know. File as "fucked up", though I can't remember the subject heading for it.
This weekend shall be good. Got paid, vacation in less than a week. Actually, this time next week I should be somewhere in Long Island, snorting rails with radiohead. Tonight I'm going thrifting to find some brightly colored work overalls. We're printing out logos with "MTV Concentration Camp 2003--Bring enough money for the weekend" on them, ironing them onto the overalls, & wearing them for most of the show. & maybe hand out the same self-made stickers if we're real productive. I hope so, it'll either get us kicked out or lots of drugs. We'll see.
THE END
Sown

Fresh Cut
New digs - 2004-05-25
Bachelor hell - 2004-05-10
Grumble - 2004-05-07
Coachella pt. 2, or goddamn do my fingers hurt - 2004-05-05
Coachella part one, or, this monkey's gone to indio rawk heaven - 2004-05-05

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2:10 p.m.	dorky, dorkier, dorkiest	2003-05-30
Reaped	So, going back to the Big confrontation, I got the �professionalism� speech. So what. Me & BossLady get along well. It�s not a problem. It came down to 2 words in an email that made her feel bad. An email not even sent directly to her. It was interesting, explaining to BossLady how the offensive sarcasm was not directed at her, but the HeadCase I share an office with. [Who�s probably reading this right now, aren�t ya?] So I learned a lesson: check yo�self before yo wiggedy-wreck yo�self. Then I locked up that rant. Yeah. Blah. I hate doing that. Censoring myself. Sometimes it�s a necessary evil, but it drives the nature of this work from fact to fiction. As much as it can. Some argue everything is fiction we make up from our brain vats anyway. Big Whoop. Summertime it always seems harder to update everyday. Especially now with the Crab back in the house, & nosy people at work, and maintaining an air of professionalism & all that. I�m paranoid to login to dland from work. There�s no way to be terminated for anything I�ve done here, but I wouldn�t want too many people here knowing about the journal, for sake of certain lifestyle choices. Just sucks that someone can be openly gay but not openly stonerific. My life would be so much easier. You know who I don�t care for? Creepy Systems L1brar1an. Bi-polar middle-aged women hater with a lush�s nose that�s seen soberer days. Talks to skirts as if they�ve never seen a computer before in their life. Of course he�s best buds with Crazy Off1cemate. I stopped talking to him after saying hi on a couple of his downward spirals. At best you�d get a snotty look, at worst a terse �go away!� Nice warning, but not a good way to maintain a professional atmosphere. He was just over here pushing in reference chairs. Since the silent treatment began he looks for reasons to hover. It�d be interesting if he�s reading this too. He�d be interested to know I know all about how his teenage son shot some guy in the face with his gun, & how that somehow translated into the Univ. permanently banning him from all contact with minors, though it�s not really punishment since he�s assistant director to something or other nowadays. Asst. Director to asshole behavior & quiet misogyny, that�s what I�m saying. I hear most of this from C1rcgrrl, so it�s all pseudo-gossip anyway. Saw the Matrix sequel. This time we tried to beat the odds at the Prytania, an old local theater with crappy sound. Some homeless guy was snoring in the back most of the movie. That didn�t deter my attention too much though. Much less than oh, A FIRE ALARM, say. & you could only tell during dialogue anyway. So my dweeb fix is sated for another coupla months. But ah, the Skywalker parallels. ( ED: Get over it if you haven�t seen it, four weeks is enough. ) You�ve been reborn six times?? What, is the man-who-cuts-his-hand his brother too? Will Neo join the dark side with the Architect? Unfortunately the 30 second trailer didn�t tell me much. Except not to buy the Matrix Reloaded soundtrack & that they had A LOT of people on CGI. Geesh. I'm tired. Matt left for Chicago this morning, so we went & drank him goodbye last night. I love having a bar run by friends of friends. Especially when the friend is there & hands me a free shot 2 seconds after I walk in the door. It was a red snapper: amaretto, crown & cran. Tastes like cough syrup, but as Bart said, 'good for what ails ya', which in his case was his stolen Vespa, recently recovered in a ditch in Gentilly, where all good stolen vehicles eventually turn up. Kinda sad Matt's gone, though in a way not too much, since I now have 2 people living near Chicago to visit, one of which is in the super ritzy Frank Lloyd Wright part. See now, typing away here at the reference desk under the anonymous profile is all fine & good, but all they gotta do is check the schedule & they'll know who went to what. That's what my subconscious is telling me. The awake part of my brain says, who cares, they don't or you'd be busted by now anyway, and isn't it time to call your gramma, the one you've not spoken too since the Mother's day from Hell? Heh. Fuck you reality. I'm the sixth version of this program & dammit, I'm saving the girl this time. That is to say, by rambling incoherently. It's good to do this occasionally. Makes this feel like a reeeeal journal. Like I'm Doogie Howser or some shit. 'Cept Doogie was pre-Internet. Though I'm sure he did BBS, like any super dork genius. What, I can speculate on the personal lives of fictional characters if I wanna, so there. Starship Troopers was on TNT the other night, we stayed up watching it. Doogie's in that: he's the psychic scientist. The best thing about watching SF w/ other dorks is you can debate the finer things, like how Heinlein can kick everyone's ass, the book vs. the movie, how it'd be truer to the story had the soldiers mechanized armor (Matrix! Had! It!) like they shoulda, & how many different ways Denise Richards should be violated. Mmmmmm, Denise Richards garaharowlahalrffogardrool. Yeah, I'd do her. But apparently I'd also do m1ke if my subconscious has anything to say about it. Very disturbing, but not that surprising, to have making-out dreams aabout someone you hang around with all the time. but damn, I wanna write about it but then some people will read it & be like, "What, you're having WET DREAMS about m1ke?" Which is not what I said at all, and this pisses me off, since this usually happens in front of people who then want to know the whole story so I'm gonna shut up the topic now and pose a question instead: In groups of "couples friends" (the even four or whatever) is it normal to have dreams like that? Fuck it. Nevermind. Just wondering, but really i don't wanna know. File as "fucked up", though I can't remember the subject heading for it. This weekend shall be good. Got paid, vacation in less than a week. Actually, this time next week I should be somewhere in Long Island, snorting rails with radiohead. Tonight I'm going thrifting to find some brightly colored work overalls. We're printing out logos with "MTV Concentration Camp 2003--Bring enough money for the weekend" on them, ironing them onto the overalls, & wearing them for most of the show. & maybe hand out the same self-made stickers if we're real productive. I hope so, it'll either get us kicked out or lots of drugs. We'll see. THE END	Sown
Fresh Cut New digs - 2004-05-25 Bachelor hell - 2004-05-10 Grumble - 2004-05-07 Coachella pt. 2, or goddamn do my fingers hurt - 2004-05-05 Coachella part one, or, this monkey's gone to indio rawk heaven - 2004-05-05 Random Shearings Rings		Profile Guestbook Mail D-land Older Home 26 Links Bandified Geek Philosopher /. Drudge Worst.Site.Ever.
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/.
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Worst.Site.Ever.