2001-07-09 - 2:23 p.m.
No, I didn't melt to death. But it is getting to be... the dreaded Conference Time. So updates will be sporadic until, oh, October or so.
And really, I can't complain. Earlier I was listening to a radio show where they noted that the average wage of meat packers is $9.30, and then in the next segment, asked the guest why it was so hard to attract and keep good workers. His response was that it was our entire American culture - that we'd rather make $10 an hour sitting in an air conditioned office doing something easy than doing something difficult where we'd have to break a sweat.
Now, ok. I'm lazy. Probably lazier than most. But I'd really like to see the culture where everyone says, why yes, I WOULD like to make less money doing dangerous, difficult work, with no health benefits, and where I will be fired when my arms get ground off in a meat packing machine, than doing some light computer work with full benefits and a 401(k). Please, give me the Job of Death.
But that's not what you came here for, is it? Here's at least some of the backlog...
So last night was one of those nights where you go "oh i think i'll stay home and be all introspective and finally do that spackling and stuff" but then you end up going to the Coyote Ugly with a bunch of marines.
instead, i am devoting myself to a life of consumerism. opening packets of cellophane, that will be my main occupation from now on. that means spending, and indulging, and enjoying. maybe some learning, some cultural insight, but more than anything, pure entertainment. newspapers, film, music, books – non-stop consuming, eating, munching away on the delights of other peoples’ minds. there’s no work involved, no effort… just reading, watching, listening. oh joy.
Today I am grateful for my cat. Come rain, shine, or unemployment, he is always the same. Hungry...
I like his consistency.
My cats are going to have to undergo years of therapy after this weekend. Last night, one of them caught sight of the dog. She leapt about five feet into the air, cleared the dining room table and slammed face-first into the wall. The word 'spreadeagle' was designed for what happened to that cat.
it might be silly but its part of you and that you wouldn't be you if you didn't have all these little kinks in your personality
Lord, mighty Jesus, merciful, big, giant, colossal God of all the heavens and Earth, please, PLEASE let me have sex with this one lesbian.
I'll never ask again.
Losing a friend because of my own moronity would upset me greatly.