amyscoop.com

MARCH 2001

Saturday, March 31, 2001
Last night's show went really well. We played with Cloud 9, an awesome band from Ann Arbor, and we sold the place out. Unfortunately, I currently feel like I got beat up. We played for almost two hours, which can be pretty exhausting, and I'm feeling it right now. I'm achy, and I can't think so good. I hope to get my interior monologue back real soon.

When I woke up, Mike and I went for breakfast at a diner that specializes in six-egg omelettes. Who eats that many eggs in one sitting? Probably the same person who orders the 48 oz. ribeye at steakhouses. @

Friday, March 30, 2001
In a much better mood today. I have the morning off to do my last-minute running around before our show tonight, I got to sleep in a little, and I even heard from a good company that might want to hire me. And -- and -- it's actually nice and sunny out. Let's play two.

I'm reaching a stage in my drumming where I think I need to start taping my fingers to keep them from splitting. The thought of my fingers doing that makes me really queasy. I've seen the percussionist in Guster do it, and I was wondering if anyone else had experience with this? Specifically, does it take away from your playing to have tape and gauze on your hands? I've started icing my hands down after shows, and that seems to help with swollen joints the next day, but I think I need to do some precautionary stuff too. See, if my parents would have just let me play drum kit in sixth grade like I wanted to, I wouldn't be having this problem because I'd be using sticks. @

Thursday, March 29, 2001
I received two emails today with a link to this silly dance site. How many did you receive? It's kind of funny, but I think it's funnier that two different people sent me the same link within five minutes of each other.

My gripe for today: You know what I hate? Besides pickled ginger, I really hate it when smokers smell bad. Now, I'm not talking about all smokers, so if you smoke, please don't get offended (well, at least not yet). A lot of my friends smoke, and they all smell pretty okay. The people I'm talking about are usually male, usually over 40, and usually not people who...umm...take care of themselves, if you know what I mean. They usually don't shower enough or wash their clothes enough too, but man, when they walk into a room, you know it, because there's this whoosh of sick, cigarette-dirt stench. Yuck. I wonder if these people know about their...umm...lack of floweriness?

While I'm on the subject, it also pisses me off when I see someone with tubes conming out of their nose wheeling their oxygen tank up to the counter to buy cigarettes. There are faster ways to kill yourself. I guarantee it.

Look: I'm not a mean person. I don't smoke, but I guess I can understand why other people do. We all need vices. The smell thing...well, okay, I guess if you want to stink, I just won't stand downwind from you. But if you're carting around a life support system because you can't breathe on your own and you still smoke, well, I'm sorry, but that's just stupid.

Public Service Announcement: Due to today's unexpected flare of anger, no snippy venting tomorrow. All daffodils and butterflies...or something like that. @

Wednesday, March 28, 2001
My artist friend Holly is planning this huge art/publicity stunt in Kalamazoo for May 28-30. She's going to stay in a storefront in downtown Kalamazoo for three days with three 6' x 6' panels and tons of paint. At the end of the three days, there will be three finished paintings. Along the way, she will be encouraging people to stop by, watch her, talk with her, and maybe even paint a little on the panels. It's a whole interactive painting thing. I write this because I think it's an amazing idea and because I've never heard of an artist doing this kind of thing before, especially here in Kalamazoo (although I'm sure this isn't the first project of this kind). Holly is rare in that she's an artist and she's extremely good at promoting herself. I am both in awe of her talents and disturbingly jealous of them.

My band has a huge show on Friday night. It's our CD release party, and we're hoping to sell out a local club, which means roughly 350 people. I feel a cold coming on, though. It's just starting in the back of my throat. I'm trying to drink orange juice and do all of the usual preventative stuff, but I just know that on Friday at about 8:00 pm, I'll start to feel really sick and have to play the whole show feeling like ass. I really need a Fresh Samantha Desperately Seeking C pint right about now. Fresh Samantha people, won't you please start distributing in the midwest? This east coast kid misses you very much. @

Tuesday, March 27, 2001
Sleep: A brief encomium by Amy. (Ahem.) Sleep, you are the coolest. I love how after a long, tiring day, I get to spend hours and hours with you. You're like the best friend I never had. I can always count on you to come around. Commitments frequently try to take you away from me. I often let them, but only because I know you'll be back. Sleep, when I'm weary...feeling small...when tears are in my eyes, you just shut them and take care of everything. You cap off great days and dutifully blur away bad ones. Who's better than you, Sleep? I'll tell you who. No one. That's who.

Yeah. So...goodnight. @

Monday, March 26, 2001
I was watching the national news, or the "World News Tonight," or whatever it's called, and the footage of all those foot-and-mouth-infected sheep carcasses being dumped into mass graves really made me gasp. Now, I'm not a vegan, or even a total vegetarian (no red meat, no veal, nothing that says "baaah," very minimal "oink," birds and fish are okay), but that footage probably gave pause to anyone who saw it. In a way, it reminded me of all the Nazi footage they made us watch in Hebrew school in fourth grade: basically, swap the sheep for Jews, and it's 1938 in Germany. Scary shit. According to this Q&A page on the CNN site, foot and mouth disease is rarely fatal. So, some lucky punter got the job of going around killing all of those sheep. Can you imagine? If it were me, I'd of course quit.

I just realized this afternoon that my February link was bad. If you happen to be perusing this site (you have a lot of free time, don't you?) and you come across another dead link, please please please let me know. It's probably due to a typo on my part. I'll give you full credit for pointing out my mistakes. If you live close by, I might even come to your house and wash your windows. Might. We'll negotiate. @

Sunday, March 25, 2001
Last night I went to check out my own band! Our old percussionist is in from Portland, and our old bass player wanted to play one last show, so they did an "original" Ubiquitus show. It was just as well, since I had no time to practice last week. I jumped on stage to play a song with them when the percussionist grabbed the mic. Apparently, one of the guys in The Flow thought it was pretty good, and he asked me to play a song with them. A fun night all around. Check out The Flow's site. They're quite good.

More job hunting today. It sucks, but not as bad as my current job.

One more thing: have you heard Radiohead's cover of Glen Campbell's "Rhinestone Cowboy"? Funny, funny, and funny. I remember hearing the original when I was a kid and thinking it was silly, but hearing Thom Yorke sing it makes the song so much better. Find it on Napster if you still can. @

Saturday, March 24, 2001
I've been feeling somewhat ornery as of late, so to get myself out of this "everything sucks" mindset, I came up with a list of things I really like. In no particular order:

  • Sandals: Or maybe it's just that I don't like wearing socks. I'm not sure, but I do know that it all started with a pair of Tevas back in 1992. I was into Tevas for a while, and went through six or seven pairs. The way they smelled after a few weeks of heavy use started to get to me, so I switched to flip-flops. Old Navy's are comfy, squishy, and dead cheap at around $3 a pair. I liked them, but my mom thought I was a dope for wearing pool shoes everywhere. Last summer I broke down and bought my first pair of Birkenstocks. Love 'em.
  • Sushi: I don't know if I can really explain how much I love sushi. I could eat it every day, for every meal. It's hard to find good sushi here in Kalamazoo, but when I lived in Maryland (and right outside of DC), you could get it everywhere. The local D&W supermarket has one of those AFC sushi counters, and the sushi there is surpringly good. And, the guy who runs it recognizes me now, so he hooks us up with his best stuff. Now that I have sushi on the brain, I think I'll head over and pick some up for dinner.
  • Macs: You could stand there all day and tell me how much better your Pentium six billion is than my wee iMac and I still wouldn't care. I like Macs. End of story.
  • Perennials: I'm not a flowery garden person, but there's a perennial garden in the backyard of the house I currently rent. It's wonderful to do nothing and watch 200 tulips grow. We have a dozen other varieties, and I don't know the names of any of them. I just know that when it's May, I get flowers, and I didn't do any work to get them. What's better than that?
  • Microserfs: In my opinion, Microserfs is the best thing Douglas Coupland has written. Sure, sure, Generation X was good, but Microserfs is better. Just read it. You'll see.
  • LP Congas: Especially my LP Congas, the lovely Galaxy models with the P-Funk-er-iffic glitter finish that looks so cool under stage lights. True, I never met a conga I didn't like, but LP makes quality products. The sounds you get out of them are beautiful.
  • My car: You see, I didn't have a driver's license until I was 25. Consequently, I never owned a car and had to walk everywhere. This was good for my physical well-being, but made my social life hell. But now, as of January, I own a car. Realizing that an El Camino would be anything but practical, I decided I wanted something new and efficient, so I bought myself a shiny green 2001 Honda Civic LX. It's quite sporty.
  • Good flicks: Too many to name here, but pretty much anything Martin Scorsese has made (with the exception of The Last Temptation of Christ -- a little too slow), anything Mafia-related, that Magnolia movie that all the critics hated, Citizen Kane, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Pulp Fiction, and about a bazillion others I can't think of right now.
  • Qdoba: I've mentioned Qdoba on this site before. Just really good Mexican fast-food-y stuff. Very addictive.
  • Hot Tubs: No explanation needed.
  • Graceland: No, not the home-turned-museum of the late King of Rock-n-Roll and/or 'luudes. I'm talking about the Paul Simon masterpiece. I hate to see marriages turn sour, but god bless Carrie Fisher for dumping his ass, as that seems to be his inspiration for creating this album. It's one of those CDs that I always go back to. Great music, smart lyrics, and a fun sing-along on long car trips. "It's a turn-around jump shot, it's everybody jump start, it's every generation throws a hero up the pop charts."
  • Stasys Eidrigevicius: He's Lithuanian and lives in Poland. His paintings are stunning. I love the way he paints eyes without the iris or lids. He captures a sadness in his faces that has a way of putting you in your place.
  • Bombay Saphire: I never used to like gin. Then when my brother let me try some of his Tanqueray and tonic, I realized that I had been drinking really bad gin, and that good gin tastes pretty good. About six months ago, a friend turned me on to Bombay Saphire. Oh man. That's living. Look for the cool blue bottle.
Okay, that made me feel better. I'll have to remember this the next time I get all cranky. @

Friday, March 23, 2001
Had an interview this morning for a job. It was over the phone and with a company that asks you a bunch of hypothetical questions and then, based on your answers, gives your prospective employer an analysis of your personality. Weird weird weird.

So I guess Mir has fallen. A good write up of it on the space.com site, but a rather unimpressive photo. Maybe it was too dangerous to get good snaps?

Wow. I forgot how lazy a day off can be. @

Thursday, March 22, 2001
Finally! The event is over, and I couldn't be happier. This morning I went into my boss's office and gave her my two week's notice. I told her I wasn't happy at the job. She proceeded to tell me that my co-workers are regularly unhappy with my work, that people in our building don't like me, and that my former boss and our current board are all unhappy with my work. I checked up on her info. The first two are untrue, and I'm waiting to hear on the third. My guess is she lied on that one too. All this from a woman who lied to get her job. What garbage!

Anyway, it's good to have time to do this again. I was putting in 14-hour days there for a while. A friend of mine has me all...well...geeked to attend this GirlGeeks forum in Chicago on April 2. It might be good networking and all, since I'll soon be out of a job.

Happily, I have tomorrow off. I am so sleeping til noon. @

Sunday, March 18, 2001
On the way back from Ann Arbor last night, our guitar player and I were having a discussion about 40-hour-a-week jobs. He was saying that he never wanted to have one because the monotony would really get to him. I used to think that way, and I guess in many ways I still do.

I was saying that most people eventually break down and get a full time job. This is usually right after college. In college, you pretty much structure your day as you want, and most of your time is actually your own. Then when you get your first full-time position, the structure is kind of okay. It's like, you're at work for eight hours, and then you have another eight or ten to yourself before you go to sleep at a "reasonable" hour, wake up, and go back to work.

Eventually, of course, it does become monotonous. You start thinking like a naturalist because you really begin to believe that you're nothing but a peon cog in a giant, unfair machine. You start to drink more, watch more TV, and generally feel unhappy.

Finally, after you've run out of beer, you realize that this is it, that as long as you want to actually live in a solid structure and eat meals on a regular basis, you're more or less stuck in your job, and you figure as long as you have to be there, you might as well make it somewhat enjoyable. Granted, some people take this too far. You know those people who are just so happy to be doing their job and seem to have all this energy for projects? Yeah...they take it too far. Most people are okay to wake up in the morning, go do their job for eight hours, and not feel cranky about it.

I went through all these phases, but now I'm back to the cog mentality. Plus, I'm cranky as all hell. So, I have made up my mind that Thursday morning, when our fundraiser is all done, I'm putting in my two week's notice. I'll probably be unemployed for a while, but, to paraphrase a bunch of people who are a lot smarter than I am, it's better to be happy than be rich. Not that I'm getting paid very much now. Nonprofits tend to have small salary lines in their budgets, you know. So...if you'd like to hire me, I am available as of April 6. @

Saturday, March 17, 2001
We have our big fundraiser at work on Tuesday and Wednesday, and it's my job to plan it. I was at work until midnight last night, and I'm exhausted. How exhausted? Last night I dreamed I was exhausted. Woke up and -- surprise! -- couldn't get out of bed. Anyway, I might not update much in the next few days. I'm just tired. You understand.

Oh, and we're playing in Ann Arbor tonight. If you're in the vicinity, swing by the Blind Pig. I'm the one who's dragging. *Yawn.* I'm not even close to Irish but happy St. Pat's regardless. It's 9:45 am. I'm off to work. @

Thursday, March 15, 2001
Beware the Ides of March! As far as Shakespeare is concerned, I much prefer Henry V or Much Ado About Nothing to Julius Caesar (although I do like Caesar salad). And yes, Kenneth Branaugh was in movies based on both Henry Five and Much Ado. And no, I don't have a thing for him. It's just a coincidence.

A somewhat disturbing article in this past Sunday's New York Times Magazine on Claritin and drug marketing. If you take the drug -- and there's a good chance you do, I guess -- you might want to read how most of what you're swallowing is just good PR. Makes me want to get out of the PR business. Yeesh. @

Wednesday, March 14, 2001
Tonight I went to a poetry reading given by Frank Bidart and promptly fell asleep. How embarassing.

Actually, I seem to have this problem a lot. I don't think I'm narcoleptic, but I can fall asleep literally anywhere. Past makeshift beds have included a table at a crowded bar, Psychology 101 lecture, bad movies, good movies, and a wood table (no tablecloth). You know how some people have insomnia and it takes them hours to just fall asleep? Yeah...I'm not one of them. In fact, I can't even relate. The elapsed time between my head hitting the pillow and me falling asleep is probably less than 45 seconds.

Part of it's that I'm a morning person. I hate admitting that, because it just seems so cool to be a night person. I'll bet Martin Scorsese is a night person. Could a morning person have made Taxi Driver? I don't think so. What would be his or her frame of reference?

Morning people are so organized. So together. So uncool! Like tonight: if I were a night person, an 8:30 poetry reading would have been no problem. Instead, 8:30 is usually when I get into my jammies and get comfy, since bedtime is just a couple of hours away. If I actually do manage to stay up, I'm zonked for work. In grad school, all of my friends were night people. Study groups wouldn't start until 10 at night. Partying would commence at around 11. And I'd be yawning the whole time -- and taking an awful lot of slack for it, too! Now that I have "gainful employment" (ha ha ha), being a morning person is somewhat beneficial in that everyone I work and deal with is a morning person too. I don't like it, but at least I can show up on time and be sufficiently functional.

I did some quick checking, and I can't find any "Morning People Unite" type web pages. Perhaps I should start one. Are you a morning person? How do you feel about it? @

Tuesday, March 13, 2001
Kind of a weird day. My job is annoying me to the point of wanting to quit. We're having our big fundraiser in a week, it's mostly my job to coordinate it, and I work with a bunch of procrastinators and excuse-makers. I'm sure you understand. Maybe you can even relate. In any case, it's frustrating. So I've been looking elsewhere. And good news: I got a call today. Someone wants to interview me. Well...it's over the phone, but it's still an interview. And not only is it just any interview, but it's an interview with a pretty good company in the S&P 500 Index. Rock and/or roll.

I'm refraining from saying too much, lest anyone I work with/for reads this. Total paranoia, I know. Rather exciting news, though. We'll see what happens. @

Monday, March 12, 2001
If you live in the North East and you haven't tried Fresh Samantha juices, you don't know what you're missing. They started selling them at the University of Maryland Food Co-op when I was in grad school a few years ago. When I first saw them, I thought they looked cool, but my main reaction was, "Two-fifty for a pint of juice? Forget it!" Then, the next time I got paid, I figured I'd splurge, so I bought myself one. Within a month, I had to start limiting myself to two or three a week because I had been spending all my lunch money on juice. Very delicious juice, but juice nonetheless. In any case, they don't carry Fresh Samantha in Michigan, and while I've tried other organic fresh juices (like Rocket Juice, motto: "Nutrition for your Mission"), nothing comes close.

Rent last night was okay. I guess I just don't like musicals. It bothers me that every time there's some point of tension, people start singing about their feelings. I know that's the whole point of the musical format, but it bugs me. It just seems so...I don't know...melodramatic. And in Rent, there was no talking -- every part of the dialogue was a melody. It was good at parts, and if you like musicals, you'll probably go ape-shit over it (like half of the people in the audience), but I just wasn't into it. Oh well. The next big thing I have tickets for is Aretha Franklin with the Kalamazoo Symphony Orchestra. I'm pretty sure that will kick all kinds of ass. @

Sunday, March 11, 2001
Overheard at local Qdoba restaurant:

Sorority-ish girl with baseball cap: (Obviously annoyed) The people who work here are so fucking incompetent!

(A Qdoba employee walks up to sorority-ish girl and holds out a wallet.)

Qdoba employee: This wallet was left at the counter. Is it yours?

Sorority-ish girl:(Obviously embarrassed) Umm...yeah. Thanks.

I just found that amusing. Our show went well last night: over 300 people came out to see us, and I'd say at least 275 of them had a good time. Our playing was kind of sloppy, but the crowd seemed drunk enough not to notice.

I'm off to see the traveling production of Rent at Western Michigan University. I hope it's good. They sure charge enough for tickets. @

Saturday, March 10, 2001
Truth of the day: Tom Hanks should never win another Oscar. Thank you, Erik Lundegaard and Slate.

Like Lundegaard, it's not that I dislike Tom Hanks. It's just that every holiday season, he's in some too-long drama that most Americans (or at least half) think is the most life-changing movie ever. His movies are always okay, and I never leave thinking I've totally wasted my money, but they're always...I don't know...all surface. But Tom Hanks manages to always be in some sappy-dramatic-bleary-teary picture during the holidays, when people are at their height of emotional gushiness and are willing to see anything "nice" as the best thing to ever happen.

You saw The Green Mile, right? That was an okay movie. It was long -- too long, if you ask me -- but it wasn't bad. My suspension of disbelief went out the exit door when that big guy started blowing tumor shrapnel out of his mouth, but sure, it's a movie, blah blah blah, it's not real, yeah yeah yeah. And Forrest Gump? Please. I think the line they've been showing in the trailer for The Mexican sums it up for me: "You have Forrest Gumped your way through this!"

I thought Castaway was decent, but again, nothing so good I went out and changed religions or anything. (Lundegaard mentions that the Academy has in the past confused drastic weight gain/loss as good acting. I'd like to point out here that Robert Deniro's role in Raging Bull was very Oscarworthy. Thank you.) Still, even though no other actor has won three Best Actor awards, I'm getting a bad feeling that Tom Hanks will walk away with this one.

Like I said, I don't dislike Hanks. I happen to really like him in his earlier stuff. I remember seeing Splash when I was about eight and thinking it was the funniest thing I had ever seen. The Money Pit is also, in my opinion, very very very underrated. ("Ahh...home crap home.") I liked Apollo 13, but never really had any anxiety that they wouldn't make it back okay. I even saw That Thing You Do, the movie he wrote. (The title song of that movie was written by the guy in Fountains of Wayne, a cool band.) I just think things took a turn for the worse when he did Sleepless in Seattle. To me, all those touchy-feely, slightly-comedic, romancy-type movies are trying to capitalize on the success of When Harry Met Sally. In any case, I'm hoping Tom Hanks goes home without one. I'd root for Ed Harris in Pollock, as Lundegaard suggested, but I have yet to see it because it hasn't even opened here. Don't get me started on that. @

Friday, March 9, 2001
Just a bad bad bad bad day. How bad? Woo. Bad.

If you happen to be in or near Kalamazoo, my band Ubiquitus is playing at Bell's Brewery tomorrow night at around 9:30. Guaranteed to be a good time...or at least an okay time. You like music, don't you? @

Thursday, March 8, 2001
Why do people buy ten loaves of bread when the forecast calls for snow? Apparently, I'm not the only one who's confused by this: Daniel Kline's Ironminds essay on winter storms totally hit home with me. It's been a while since I've been in New York for a huge snowstorm. In Kalamazoo, people don't get too worked up about them. In Buffalo, where I lived for five years, snow is so common that the city occasionally has to put a ban on driving to prevent these I'm-from-Buffalo-I-know-how-to-drive-in-three-feet-of-snow types off the road. But Maryland during like, half an inch of snow, was about the funniest weather-related hysteria I've ever seen.

It only snows in Maryland about two or three times a year. Sometimes, like in 1997 (I think), they get an unusually big snowfall. A typical winter, though, is about a foot -- for the whole winter. So that means a few three- or four-inchers. Three inches of snow isn't much, but to see the way people in Maryland act in three inches of snow, you'd think the snow was cocaine mixed with LSD and that people were absorbing it at unnaturally high levels.

First of all, people think there's enough snow to warrant closing every inch of public space in the state. Sure, I didn't mind if it got me out of work or if I got out of class, but three inches? Hello? Perhaps the cold weather causes people to confuse inches with feet down there. And second of all, every one in is a big huff to get to the supermarket to get milk, bread, and toilet paper. Why? Because if they don't get there soon, all the milk, bread, and toilet paper will have been taken by all the people who got there first. I swear, it's as if milk, bread, and toilet paper will somehow make the snow go away and raise the temperature by 50 degrees. I'm not the only one who thinks this is a joke, either: the Maryland State Lottery created a scratch-off game called "Chance of Snow." You have to match three dollar amounts by scratching off little pictures of (guess what?) milk, bread, and toilet paper. You just can't make this stuff up.

I remember after one snowstorm in Buffalo, my roommate and I tunneled past our front door and went for a walk at around one in the morning. There was about four feet on the ground, the entire city was asked to stay in their homes (we weren't actually supposed to be out), a driving ban was in effect, and the only things moving on the streets were these enormous snow removal machines. It was like some bad industrial version of the future in which all the people are replaced by giant robots. It was also the most snow I've ever seen in my entire life, and the most I ever hope to see. Still, the next day, we were able to walk to the convenience store four blocks away and buy necessities (potato chips, onion dip, Kraft Dinner, and a box of ice cream sandwiches). There was plenty of milk in the store's dairy case, and the bread shelf was full. Buffalo gets a bad rap for its weather, but when it comes to snow, the rest of the country could take a lesson from it. Are you listening, Baltimore? @

Wednesday, March 7, 2001
No one whose name is pronounced that way lives here: best New Yorker cartoon ever! Oh man, I can't even begin to count all the horrific ways in which telemarketers have butchered my last name. I used to tell them they had the wrong number, but now I'm going to use this line. I love it!

Have you seen the new Miller High Life commercial? The one with the frumpy woman buying beer, and the voice over that says something about how newlywed women should buy High Life for their husbands? I can't believe that companies are still making commercials that are so degrading to women, and I can't believe that networks will show them (although it's FOX, so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised). If you've seen it and it pissed you off too, let them know. @

Tuesday, March 6, 2001
Of all the things that amaze me, the thing that amazes me the most is when people have enough time to read a book more than once. Are you one of those people? Even with two degrees in English, there's still more books that I want to read than books I have time to read, so how can I justify re-reading something I've already read? I've had Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude on my shelf for years, but I'm only just getting around to reading it. I wouldn't want to put if off any longer to re-read something, no matter how good that something was.

And my reading of books is held up by the little things: we have subscriptions to The New Yorker, which comes once a week, and The New York Times on Sundays, which is enough reading for a week. With my crappy job and band practice (not crappy), I shouldn't be surprised that it takes me so long to get through a book.

One of my favorites is All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren. That's one I'd definitely re-read if I had time. In addition to being a great story of corrupt Southern politics, it has some of the best writing I've ever read. Dense, but worth it.

Another note: The snow looks pretty high in New York now. My parents and brothers probably have the day off again. Lucky. @

Monday, March 5, 2001
I'm almost a month into this thing, and I'm realizing that I've only told one person I know about this site. I guess I'm relying on people I don't know to see it, through some link or something, although I'm not sure why I feel the need to have readers. I've had limited response (like zero), but my counter tells me that someone (or several someones) is looking at this thing.

Actually, I find this whole on-line journal situation really interesting, and I've been reading a lot of them. It seems that this is taking the place of what psychiatrists used to get paid for. I'm not saying that keeping a website can relieve clinical depression -- that needs treatment above and beyond a little typing -- but for the everyday, I-need-someone-to share-my-problems-with issues, this format is a very viable method of "getting it all out," so to speak. I know that I can work out my own thoughts better on paper (or screen, in this case), as I think many people can. With this method, you're just sharing it with more people. And some illusion of anonymity is still there: you see your shrink but don't know much about his or her personal life, whereas you can come to know a lot about the personal lives of your readers but don't usually see them face to face.

By the way, I'm not using Blogger or any other program to do this. I think what these programmers are doing is awesome in that they're giving access to just anyone with a computer to get their thoughts out on-line. I just think that for me personally, typing it all by hand (simple code and all) gets me more familiar with HTML and website layout. @

Sunday, March 4, 2001
I saw this on CBS Sunday Morning earlier: The National Building Museum has an exhibit on Design and the American Office. So, on the weekends, when you're away from your job, you can go to DC and see your office life in a museum. (Say it like you're Irish: Great.) My first thought is that attendance to this exhibit will be low: after all, I work all day during the week, and when work is over, I don't want to be there anymore, so why would I want to be in a work-like envionment in a city with about fifty other museums? I mean, you've seen one cube, you've pretty much seen them all. On the other hand, a work environment is comfortable and familiar, so now I'm thinking that maybe people will flock to it.

An excerpt from the exhibit description: "As technologies changed, office design changed with them. Flexibility became the watchword of contemporary office design; modular wall, floor, and ceiling systems as well as workstations were developed to accommodate the constantly shifting dynamics of organizational structures and technical systems." Yeah, but I'd still like my own office. In a Homer Simpson voice: "Workstations -- I hate them so much!" @

Saturday, March 3, 2001
Why is it that every time I go to the supermarket, the moron bagging my groceries puts every single canned good I buy into one flimsy plastic bag? I realize that the people who bag groceries aren't necessarily the brightest people on the planet, and I know that their bosses probably tell them to bag similar items together, but I think it's fairly obvious that twelve cans in one bag will cause the bag to break. Usually, the bag breaks either while I'm carrying it in to my house or while I'm holding it as I put the cans on the shelf; usually, the cans fall on my feet. Stupid stupid stupid.

In case it's not totally apparent, I am in a bad mood today. Went to work for five hours to print out the database for our upcoming fundraiser. My computer kept printing out anywhere from four to ten pages and then quitting because of some postcript error garbage. I have a nasty habit of kicking and throwing things when I'm frustrated. I think this is better than kicking people or yelling at them. So today I kicked loose the bottom panel of my cubicle when I got the postcript error message for the billionth time. My boss won't like that, but then, I don't like her, so the way I see it, we're even. Maybe tomorrow will be better. @

Friday, March 2, 2001
The local Subway/TCBY had this sign by the entrance. I've heard of Equal Opportunity Employers, but this might be taking it a little too far. I wonder how many strawberry shakes applied.

Following up on a comment I made about a week ago regarding greatest hits albums and how they're not ideal in building a collection: an essay on dack.com by Mike Haney that takes it to the next level. Some excellet points; the one I most agree with is groups like Color Me Badd calling a disc of 12 tracks "hits." Doesn't the word "hit" imply that the song was played on the radio and...you know...enjoyed?

Late night. Sleep now. More tomorrow. @

Thursday, March 1, 2001
Some random things:

I've been enjoying White Shoe Irregular at work (during lunch, of course). This Bit and Bitter piece had my hysterical. The Microsoft-Hell merger is the funniest thing I've read in a long time.

I came home just after dark and there was a small bat on my porch. I didn't see it, and I accidentally stepped on its wing. I don't think it can fly anymore, because it screeched and just kind of hopped down my porch stairs and sat on the driveway. Mike thinks it's the same bat that's been living in our walls and (occasionally) inside our house. I feel bad about hurting any animal, but frankly, if it means that I won't hear it flapping in my bedroom at 4:00 am, I'm glad I broke its wing. The only thing that creeps me out more than bats in the house is ants in the house (a whole colony, not just a random one). I hate it when the outside moves inside!

And now for a product endorsement: I usually avoid chain restaurants in favor of less corporate, locally owned places, but I have to tip the proverbial cap to Qdoba. Their slogan should be, "Five bucks fills you up," because that's how much a burrito costs, and when you eat one, you're good for the next eight or nine hours. I think they put crack or something in the tortillas, because I get these crazy cravings for their food on a regular basis. I also like that it reminds me of the WrapWorks in DC on Dupont Circle. I think I'll eat anything wrapped up in a big tortilla. Anything. @


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