There's a minor problem here. They want us to slow down so we can all bill more hours on this project. I was already working slow to bill more hours on this project.
It's not really a problem. It just means I end up bored. I have the internet, though, so that shouldn't be too much of a problem...?
Still.
I'd like to find out if I can use the fire stairs to come and go from work (seventh floor) but I feel like asking would flag me as a likely terrorist. Sitting still for eight hours is super bad for you. The health blogs say so!
To anyone who is familiar with my health regimen: I have some bad news. I went to the doctor, got looked at, and had some tests done. I was expecting, "You're fine, you-- oh, Christ, your cholesterol is WHAT? You sure you're breathing? Check again."
In fact, my cholesterol is middlin' to low, and my general health is fine. That's with sweet FA in the way of exercise, and terrible terrible diet. I should be dead, to hear all the hype. But I'm not? I'm pleased to hear it, but I'm also a little pissed at everyone who ever said anything about diet and health. Because they are all liars.
Please go look at my LinkedIn page. I started vandalizing it because it's worth two things: Jack and shit. And Jack stopped updating his LinkedIn page.
--Philadelphia, PA, I'll take all you sons of bitches when I go, 5/13/2013
Me, Christoph (!Malk), Marty (Tzim), John (Law Firm).
Matt Morgan, Camarilla fatties, Martin (!Nos), Sonam, (Spirit Marionette Dominate), Me, Marty.
Jevon (Kiasyd), Peter Kapsalis (!Gangrel with Services), Me, Kym Alishahi (Anarch Pot Revolt).
DC. Sometime last year.
I didn't note when that last update went up, but I'm sure there's a timestamp somewhere. REGARDLESS, it was a while ago, and a while before that since the prior one.
I have to interpret these lapses as good things. Life's good, home's nice, Ingrid's wonderful. I have work, if just for the minute; I spent the better part of the last three months out of a job. It was not nearly the catastrophic event it has been in the past, thanks to my sugar momma, but it still wrecked my savings. The student loan people will wait two months to tell you if you qualify for a deferment or a forbearance or whatever, but they will not wait at all to tell you you owe them for the current payment.
Fuckers.
So I have a lot less money on hand for when I need it. I renewed the permanent job search, which, oogh, let me tell you, that's some depressing shit. I really believe my future is in general services, and in the era of the internet, no one needs someone who can do a little of everything. The Renaissance is dead. Long live specialization. ("Specialization is for insects." --Lazarus Long)
2013 is here, and I can make things out of yarn (Bros Don't Crochet), I'm going down to the Arbitration center again to do my part to provide impartial justice (and trick The Man), I'm perpetually dissatisfied, but fuck it. I have things pretty damn good right now and I'm going to try and recognize that.
The upshot of all this is, things aren't easy, but things are good. I'm too busy living to stop and record it. I hope you'll get ahold of me in other ways if this blog doesn't update often enough for your purposes. You're the reason this blog exists, after all.
--7:43 PM, EST, 1/11/2013, Philadelphia, PA, i'll meet you down at the big yellow joint
Let me tell you what a good week is:
You start off without much to be excited about. You have these bookshelves lying around since you bought them and didn't construct them. You aren't playing D&D and you aren't running D&D because everyone is grown-up and has things they have to do other than having fun. You should probably go to the dentist soon.
But look again: weather's getting less oppressively hellish. There's work, and overtime if you want. Your girlfriend reminds you she kicks nine kinds of ass multiple times per week. There's a ton of new Adam WarRock stuff out there, and the acts with whom he is touring are a good exposure to new music. (I've heard that not being interested in new music is a sign of getting old.)
Last week, Adam came to the North Star Bar with Zilla Persona, Triceratopolis, Math The Band, and MC Lars. It blew my both my ears and mind out. I expect a show like that to be Awesome (Adam) and Whatever (everyone else). There was no second category at this show. Tons of sincerity, tons of awesome.
But we're talking about this week: Adam, Tribe One, Mikal kHill and Jesse Dangerously are coming to town next month, and put out a full album of new songs over one another's beats to raise money to travel on. Now, again, I am already in the tank for these guys, but it's a great album, and it's great to contribute to the war effort. Altruism, guys!
Also this week: I put on a suit and went and assumed a solemn mien, and dispensed justice as a participant in Philadelphia's arbitration program. That's right, I was responsible for others' judgments and awards. Run screaming, those of you who wish for a learned and informed judiciary. I am amok.
I got a new bag. It says "Bag of Holding" on the side, because I am a huge geek, and I will fly that flag. Represent. (It came with a black t-shirt reading "Chaotic Awesome" and a d20 that lights up when you roll a crit. NERD CRED)
It's just been a good week. Ingrid and I got a little Sonic one night, I built those shelves, I watched a little basic cable, I played my foolish Facebook Avengers game. The weather's always getting better; it's all downhill from here.
There, see? That was some boring-ass content. You'll be back when I'm bitching and moaning, no doubt.
--11:34 AM, EDT, Philadelphia, PA, "so everyday at home was spent breaking those habits / 'cause his father wasn't raising no [redacted]", Tribe One, "Different" (get it here, that's an order.)
I don't even remember what HTML tags this page uses.
Yeah! So! I have this page I never update. This is an update.
As with prior updates, there's nothing to complain about so I don't post anything. Because "Everything's fine, I like my house and my girlfriend and I have some money so I can buy things" is pretty fucking lame. What we - and by 'we' I mean the internet - want is some good ol' schadenfreude. Let's begin.
Two weeks ago, my job says, "We're running out of work. Finish up what you're doing now and then go home, we'll call you to come back soon." This is not terribly surprising in my line of work, as we are temps and our services are not constantly in demand. It is disappointing, certainly.
Last week, no calls. Late in the week, there's an e-mail saying "We'll have work for you soon. Probably Monday."
(Those of you familiar with me bitching about work may note: everything these people say is a lie.)
So Monday comes. And no word. This is now over a week of no work, which tends to negatively impact my financial landscape. Thank goodness for two-income households.
And then today - the day before the Fourth of July, mind you - they send out an e-mail. Try hearing it in Bill Lumbergh's voice from "Office Space", or go to this site and just click some buttons to accompany this.
"Yeah, we're gonna need you to come in tomorrow, yeah. We have a deadline, yeah. And why don't you just come in on Saturday and Sunday, too, yeah. Okay, that'd be great."
I'll try and remember to post later about how I'm actually lucky in this situation, because of all the unemployed law school grads out there, but I doubt that'll happen. Because this is some pure bullshit, this job.
--Mt. Airy, Philadelphia, PA, 3 July 2012, "all I'm tossin' and turnin' because the fire is burnin' and I ain't earnin' enough to pay the bills that pile up"
Yesterday, like famous comic strip cat Garfield, I found myself hating Mondays.
Why?
I missed a chunk of work. Yeah yeah, I know, "time off of work is great!" You know what else is great? Being able to pay your bills. But, sure, I'll call this one a mixed bag.
I had to drive around Bucks County. As someone who has enjoyed his shift from a driving routine to a train/mass transit routine, this was a minor annoyance.
I had to go to court. No, no, they didn't finally tie me to those Satanic ritual killings from back in '04. I was there in my professional capacity. And as you probably know if you're reading this, my professional capacity is not very capacious. But I went, besuited and betied, parked and paid to park in Doylestown, before nine AM. Bleah. Thumbs down.
While at court, a judge questioned my ability to practice law. Because, you know, that's what I want. "A little insult with your aggravation, m'sieu?" "Non, merci, non." (Aside: there's a little part of me that desperately wants a judge or some other authority figure to tell me that I can't practice law. That will signal my valiant attempt to have my student loans deleted from my ledger, as a significant hardship. That part of me does not properly understand bankruptcy. [Though those of you thinking "student loan debt can't be discharged in bankruptcy" should do some reading on the subject. Mmmm.])
I lied about my reason for being late to work, because my job - which is terrible and hateful - will be terminated if my bosses learn I am practicing law. Better safe than subject to some kind of conflict of interest action, they say. I say, "it's bad enough we have to do this work to survive, but if we try and do something for ourselves, you'll fire us?"
I worked very late to make up the time. Not a big deal, I work late a lot.
I had to spend the night in Ingrid's and my new place, as a favor to our landlord. I neglected to bring any blankets. It was cold last night, and I am afraid / too cheap to turn up the heat. (Afraid because our neighbor told us she paid $500 to the gas company one month, and too cheap for the same reason.)
My other neighbor's (drunk? insane?) boyfriend showed up at her house last night, as I was trying to park. I could not, because his car blocked the alley. And my garage. I rolled the window down and asked him to move his car. "You have to help me," he said. "Can you move it?" I said. "Can you help me?" he repeated. I gave up and parked down the block. While trying to go to sleep, I heard him yelling "Call the police!" and laying on his car horn. The police came, and I have to assume he's sleeping it off / in protective custody somewhere.
My mantra for that Monday was "everything's coming up Millhouse." I hope your Monday was considerably better.
--12:14 PM, EDT, Philadelphia, PA, I'm'a go Pietro on these cats, right?
Congratulations, Ryan and Carrie.
--7:41 AM, EDT, Hatboro, PA, "And I can tell you 'bout today / And how I picked you up and everything changed"
But hey, RSS is your friend.
(This site's purpose is arguably to reassure people that I'm not dead. The people perhaps most in need of this service are also people least likely to know what an RSS feed is. I'm so sorry.)
TELL ME THE DATE! TELL ME WHAT YEAR THIS IS!
Heh, yeah. I can't update this site, it appears. I apologize to anyone who checks it semi-regularly.
Here are some data:
ITEM! I'm moving to 19119. For the first time in however many years I've been telling people I'm from Philadelphia, it'll be true. Come visit.
ITEM! I'm not sure if I hate social media, or humanity. It might be both. There's nothing to say it can't be both.
ITEM! Since I'm leaving Hatboro, and my D&D game is in Hatboro (or thereabouts), I might start a new one. Mmmm, new games. I'm really hoping Ingrid doesn't try her first game in X years and realize she hates it. Because, you know, we need DPS. C'mon.
ITEM! I'm taking a break from reading comics. For as much as I wish grown-ass adult human beings would allow themselves to read challenging, authentic contemporary fiction (look, I read all the Harry Potter books, but you know what? They're children's books), I was reading a lot of comics that didn't do very much for me as literature. So, I'll take a hiatus. Maybe come back in a few years, see what the industry looks like. I do hear good things about Locke & Key, though. If you were looking for a recommendation.
ITEM! I might be abandoning the compact disc as a music medium. The future, you know? Man.
ITEM! I have a stack of books from Christmas that'll likely keep me busy through summer. Haruki Murakami, Terry Pratchett, Umberto Eco, Christopher Moore. It's a good time waiting to happen.
ITEM! I tricked Ingrid into moving up here. Next step: tricking her into giving up her cell phone and car, and then the trap snaps shut.
...what? Oh, crap. Um, I mean, I'm really excited she's agreed to put up with me on a more regular basis. Yes. That's what I mean. And that's my story (until she agrees to the joint checking account).
Please get ahold of me if you're pissed that I haven't updated this more regularly. Please don't get ahold of me if you want to know if you can have my stuff, since I'm moving. I'll let you know if that's the case.
--5:20 PM, EDT, Philadelphia, PA, thinking outrageously I write in cursive --Sufyan Stevens, "The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades is Out To Get Us!"
So, that last entry says July 2011. It is now November, almost December, of that same year. I suppose I can hang my hat on the fact that it hasn't been a full year since I last posted anything here.
Classic situation: if I'm not doing anything, I have plenty of time to write about it here. If I'm doing everything, I have no time to write about it. I've been pulling down 50 and 60 hour work weeks, not counting commute times, and spending most of my weekends either traveling to Washington or traveling with someone from Washington.
So, while I could rhapsodize about the joys of small-market airports or needing extra blankets at night up in the mountains of Vermont, I could also just be living in those moments and not memorializing them. (Adam WarRock's got a song about that. That dude is so great.)
So, yeah. I just had a project end questionably, and it looks like I might have some time off. As a colleague said, "Time off of a project is either too short or too long." You either won't have enough time to get your own errands done or personal stuff attended to (and unemployment won't kick in fast enough to help you cover your bills), or you will have a terrible interminable time of unrequited job search, waiting to hear if another project is coming along, or who-knows-what.
I need to get my car inspected, get my apartment cleaned in anticipation of moving in the next few months, learn to crochet, buy some new work-suitable clothes and shoes (though I should really wait until after Christmas at this point).
Items:
Okay, someone's buying me lunch and I need a shower. My apologies to anyone who put me in their RSS feed and then forgot about me.
--12:44 PM EST, November 29, 2011, remember to kick it over
Before Lent, you throw down and you throw down hard. Since you'll be giving up all the luxury things, the indulgent things. So indulge.
Okay, I don't really give up anything for Lent, and the idea that you throw down for throwing down's own sake for Mardi Gras, or whatever flavor you celebrate, doesn't resonate with me. I am not about spontaneous nihilistic hedonism; I am about meaningful earned hedonism.
The upshot of all this is: I had a good weekend. I am not claiming to have "earned" anything, though Sunday's flight debacle was reminiscent of medieval church penance. I did not suffer in silence, though, as anyone who follows my Twitter can attest. But Saturday and Sunday (and Monday morning) more than made up for Delta Airlines' corporate failures.
I'll be futzing with my computer and trying out PC-only games if anyone needs me for the next three weeks.
--11:40 AM, Philadephia, PA, the difference in the hero and the villain is the absolute truth
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