Rant: Absolutely broke. Rant: Going to have to drop two of my classes in order to take on an additional job, I think. I simply cannot do well academically when I'm stressed about money. I sit in class and crunch numbers and run through financial scenarios and then everyone gets up to leave and I realize that I've basically missed the entire lecture because I'm too busy worrying about how to afford life in this sleepy shithole. And I'm super stressed about money partially because... Rant: My part-time employment has irregular hours and is spotty employment at best. Also, I'm dealing with suburban mommies who cannot seem to grasp the concept of scheduling. Rave: I don't know what I'd do without my best friend. He's super-supportive and he always has a solution for me when I feel like I've exhausted all options and considered all possibilities. He's pretty much my life coach right now. Rant: He's being really weird about The Dude, though. I hope this doesn't mean what it normally means. That would be horrible. I don't even want to consider the possibility of what his weirdness might mean, because losing either of them right now would be...awful. Just...awful.
Rave: So the boys turn 1 today. We had their party Saturday and they seemed to have a lot of fun. Them eating their birthday cake was hilarious. It's hard to believe it's already been a year, but at the same time I can't really imagine my life before they were around. What's even better is there really doesn't seem to be any long term affects from them being born three months early. They are a little behind one some things developmentally but we were planning on that. Size wise one is over 25 pounds and the other is 23 1/2. Far cry from the 2 1/2 and just under 3 they were at birth. As hard as having twins (or any kid) can be, I wouldn't trade the last year for the world and it's only getting better.
Rave: Making honey oatmeal bread! I'm just using the bread maker because it's easy and I rarely use it though. It should be interesting because I misread the recipe and put in 2 tablespoons of yeast instead of 2 teaspoons. Mmmmmm yeasty fluffy bread.
Rave: Posting from my new Samsung Galaxy 10.1. This thing is awesome. Rant: Time to catch up on the 200 missed pages here.
RAVE: Got back yesterday from 5 days in London. It was my first time there and I am absolutely OBSESSED. Everything just clicked. The culture, the architecture, the feel, just was completely enthralled. I never "got" people being Anglophiles, but it makes a bit more sense now. RANT: The weather back in Chicago is shittier than when I left, all rain and windy. And there are no more accents except for stupid Asian tourists. RAVE: Its nice to be back in my own bed, such an underrated feeling.
Rave: A senile Andy Rooney was allowed to ramble about whatever bullshit came to mind for years, which lead to absolutely hilarious bits like this: http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=7076431n
Bah: Just got home from a dinner function for school. Somewhere between 7:15 this morning when I left and now, my cat puked all over my bedspread. Thanks, cat. Rave: Listened to and met a really influential and knowledgeable person. That was awesome and possibly worth cleaning up cat puke.
Rave: My job is mostly great. I get to read an absolute shitload and decided I was going to at least listen to all of these lectures and might do the reading. If I think I can afford the books, but leave it to me to get interested in a course that will not teach me anything that might make me money. Rant: The weirdest problem I have with my job right no is so fucking weird I'm not sure what to do about it. This got longer than I intended. Read if you want to hear about our custodian poet who might have sexually harassed me. Spoiler The janitor (a middle-aged mexican lady) came in yesterday and asked if I was busy. It's sort of a joke that I am in fact never busy (I should never have told people this. I am fucking retarded...anyway). Then she asks if I have a printer and I say yes. So somehow she gets to talking about where she grew up and how it was a poor part of town in Colorado. She said that sometime Urban Renewal went in and demolished all of the houses/apartments/whatever. She then goes on about how they formed a committee to have a reunion for all of these people. And for a fundraiser she put a book together of old pictures....and she wrote poems for it. At this point I sort of figure out where this is going. First, in a roundabout way she asks if I will type it up for her. I deflect this. Then she hands it to me and tells me to read it to her to see how it sounds. So I start reading this poem titled "Silent Love!". It's typical bad poetry. It's about a guy her brother introduced her too and how they can't be together or something. It's all pretty normal. It's supposed to have end-stop rhymes, but they are a little off, but because I'm bad about predicting what the second line will be I start running over her words and have to go back and read it again lengthening this fucking awkward process. Well, I get to the end. And it get's weird. All of a sudden the poem takes a sexual turn on the last line. I can't remember it exactly, but the last words were "and I bare my butt to him". I'm a shy guy. I don't know what to make of this. So I hand it back and she asks if I like it and I say...yes, sure I do. It sounds good. (Mistake number two). She then keeps talking about the project and I'm sort of just making polite chit-chat. Or what I think is polite chit-chat. But finally she leaves. And I pray that this never happens again. Cut to today when she comes in around with a typed and revised version (she has another employee type them up, print them off for her for revision, and then back to the lackey for final print). She makes me read it again. Fortunately, the last line has been removed. I basically repeat the polite utterances of yesterday. She gets a very pleased look on her face, holds the paper out at arms length, and says "This one is going in the book." I'm at a loss. Shitting on the janitor is a bad idea. Probably the worst employee to piss off (ever seen Scrubs?). But I seriously can't take it anymore. I can't really feign work now that I have gone and blabbed that I basically do jack shit all day. I guess I'm just too fucking nice. I just don't know how to stop. This shit sort of happens to me all the time. But I must say am very glad this just turned out to be an exercise in shitty poetry instead of sexual harassment. Rant: I must figure out what I want to do with my life and how to make it happen quickly.
RANT: Grrr... motherfucking asshole court registries. I've got to file submissions on Friday, and they have to be filed at their office in the state capital, about an hour's drive if the traffic is kind to me. This is instead of filing at the local registry, which is 10 minutes away, in which I could do just about anything else with the file. Then the same court has the balls to tell me that they're disallowing service by post on an individual in another state because they live within 50 kilometres of a courthouse, despite them not being able to do anything at that courthouse with respect to this court, and their rules mentioning nothing of the requirements. Fuckstains. /legalistic rant.
RAVE: Just had a recruiter try to head hunt me for a new job. RAVE: New job pays a quarter million a year, with with one of the five largest companies in the world (by both marcap and revenue) RANT: Can only assume that they were completely desperate for applicants for the role. I am entirely unsuitable RAVE: Fuck it, for that money, I'll go and interview. RANT: Work won't be nearly as interesting as current job RANT: Any project desperate enough to give me a role with this position description, paying that kind of money, has to be a clusterfuck. RAVE: This time last year, let a convincing asshole persuade me that my skill set barely warranted $75k a year. Would love to let it drop in conversation with him that I'm now on a quarter million a year.
Rant: As if this week wasnt bad enough, I accidently cleaned my contact lense with hydrogen peroxide and put it right in. Motherfucker that hurt.
Rant: #$%&*@! Fuuuuuuck. Braves now have to rely on an offense that hasn't been able to hit its way out of a wet paper bag AND rely on a Houston team that has lost over 100 games to beat St. Louis tonight. Shit. And, because I know this email is coming, "No, season ticket customer service lady, I DO NOT want my playoff ticket money applied towards next year's tickets. I want you to back time up and give me one of those STUPID losses back."
Rant: I feel like I have been involved in too many arguments recently. It is starting to really bother me. I don't like people jumping my case. Don't fucking try to control my decisions. Why can't they understand that it is my life, and I get to make my own choices? Back off. I want to vanish from existence for a while.
Rave: One of the people I train posted this about me on his Facebook. It made me feel all warm and happy inside. I'm not paid much, but I have a hard time monetizing something like this: Today I love my job.
Rave: I would like to dedicate this metaphorical NBA Jam I'm-on-fire-and-front-flipping-from-center-court-to-slam-dunk-in-your-face slam dunk to everyone who has ever felt beaten down by bureaucracy. Rant: Reading comprehension: it really eludes some people.
Rave: Last day of work for a month. Catch up with friends and family in NZ and get as drunk as ten men. Rave: Met a chick who has a thing for Rangas.