Thursday, September 27, 2001
One of the kids in one of the classes at work burned a copy of the Gorillaz CD for me, and boy is it good! I'll admit that I've been skeptical of some of the genre-blending that goes on in music. Since I play in a fusion jazz/hiphop band, this might make me somewhat of a hypocrite, but sometimes when you blend genres you just get crap. But I like Gorillaz.
Today at work we had to fill out these "describe your daily work activities" forms. They should just give everyone a piece of paper with the words "Justify your Existence" printed on the top. Needless to say, everyone was on edge and kind of unhappy. I don't think I'm in danger of losing my job, but it pisses me off that the organization spends so much money for some consulting firm to come in and have us fill out an essentially useless form that's at least ten years old.
Wednesday, September 26, 2001
It would be easier to compile an encyclopedia
but they are always too short
My encyclopedia will ignore the research
I will walk out the front door now
Tuesday, September 25, 2001
I've got plans for tonight, which in a way is too bad, because I'll miss the season premiere of Emeril! Umm...yeah, that was sarcasm. I like watching the guy cook, and I was more than a little annoyed when we couldn't get dinner reservations in his Orlando restaurant because the place was booked solid two months in advance, but I don't think he's sit-com material. Nonetheless, I think people will watch. Emeril's credo is, "Pork fat rules," and hot damn, people sure do love bacon.
Monday, September 24, 2001
Who wants to be a princess? Are you kidding me? Didn't FOX learn its lesson with that whole Rick Rockwell/Darva Conger fiasco?
I'm still connecting at speeds that were considered slow in 1995. I'm frustrated. That's enough for today.
Saturday, September 22, 2001
At a benefit reading we went to last night, a guy who was on the 70th floor of World Trade 2 read his account of September 11. It was pretty harrowing stuff.
My phone line is still all screwy. The phone company keeps telling me it's my cordless phone, but I've had it unplugged for two days and the line's still all static-y. Fucking Ameritech. And, to make things worse, the local dial-up I use (at WMU, since Mike is a student) is connecting me at glacial speeds. This is not a good night for communication.
Thursday, September 20, 2001
On a completely different topic, tonight is the last episode of Big Brother 2. My vote, of course, is for Will.
Wednesday, September 19, 2001
Related side note: the President and CEO of Fazoli's is named Kuni Toyoda. That doesn't really sound Italian to me.
Yet another constant in our windy universe: Whenever the US rallies together against a common enemy, sales of both American flags and that blasted Lee Greenwood song spike. As I write this, the album is number two on Amazon.com. Number two! Apparently, national tragedy zaps Americans' ability to distinguish a good song from one that sucks beyond anything that has ever sucked before -- including the pizza at Fazoli's. (Note to self: good job on making today's post come full circle!)
Tuesday, September 18, 2001
Monday, September 17, 2001
How much did you lose today?
An interview with Noam Chomsky regarding last Tuesday's atrocities. Interesting stuff.
Sunday, September 16, 2001
Driving to Ann Arbor last night, I rode under an overpass on the I-94 where a dozen or so people were standing and waving American flags and giving everyone a thumbs up. American flags have been sprouting up like weeds in my neighborhood (and probably in yours). However, I think it's a little strange when the news shows footage of the flags being assembled in the flag factory and all of the factory workers are immigrants. You'd think if people are so proud to fly a flag, they might want to put one together. Or something.
Saw Rockstar today and it pretty much sucked. The only slightly entertaining part was during the end credits: one of the songs played as they rolled was "Good Vibrations" by Mark Wahlberg from way back when he used to be known as Marky-Mark.
Thursday, September 13, 2001
Luckily, there was a really nice lady behind me who saw the whole thing. She gave me her name and work number in case the parking company wanted me to pay for a new gate and I needed a witness who would say that it wasn't my fault because the machine didn't work right. I got into work and called the parking company to tell them what happened. After being put on hold for a while, I was asked about the damage to my car. There wasn't any: I barely hit the thing, and it had a rubber piece around the perimeter, so there wasn't even a scratch on my windshield. "So why are you calling us?" the woman at the parking office wanted to know. I told her I was trying to do the right thing and tell them that their gate broke. Apparently, she hadn't considered honesty an option.
By the time I left work at a quarter to four, there was a new wood gate up, identical to the one that broke on my car. I imagine they have a box of these things in the basement of their building.
This start to my day was an interesting diversion, but didn't do much to ease the heaviness of everyone's mood. I'm a little embarrassed to admit how much tv I've watched in the past few days, and that when I'm at work, I've been looking at Quicktime videos on news websites during my downtime. It's like Mike and I are afraid to turn off the tv because we'll miss something; for the past two nights we've had it on until after two in the morning.
I do want to address one thing that I haven't seen much mention of, maybe because it's too early. It's the labeling, or titling, or even media "branding" of what happened on Tuesday. I think it started with CNN, or so I'm told. Every station is calling the incidents "Attack on America." It has its own logo and, I think, theme music. I don't think I like this -- in fact, no, I don't like it. It's like the TRL-ing of hard news: packaging it into themed bundles with reaction of the crowd on the street, except there are no commercials, Carson Daly and his hair and wardrobe are thankfully absent, and it's the longest episode ever.
I'm also a little relieved that they're not replaying the footage of people jumping from the buildings, although my local paper and occasional employer felt it necessary to make a photograph of a man falling head first down the side of the building the most prominent photo in yesterday's edition. I thought that was gross and unnecessary (hence the absence of a link to it on this site). But that's kind of my feeling about everything that's happened since I got up on Tuesday.
Wednesday, September 12, 2001
Well, actually, I should make this quick, since my internet connection is highly unstable right now, and my phone line isn't working well either. (In Kalamazoo! What the fuck?) So much for back to normal. Maybe tomorrow.
Monday, September 10, 2001
Bumper sticker I saw today: Jesus is coming. Look busy.
Sunday, September 9, 2001
My new favorite "clean" expression: mothertrucker. You know what it's clean for.
Saturday, September 8, 2001
And it almost didn't happen! It was an outdoor show, and if it rained, there was no rain location scheduled: they would have just cancelled it and refunded people who already had tickets. As we were unloading our stuff around four in the afternoon, it really looked like it was going to pour. There was a storm system south of us, and it was moving north. Plus, weathercasters had been saying for days that we were going to get dumped on Friday night. We could see the storm heading for us, and probably threw half the lawn in the air to figure out which way the wind, and the storm, was blowing. Miraculously, the thing missed us by less than a mile, and an hour before we went on stage, a rainbow formed over us.
We played a decent set, but Maceo was amazing -- just unbelievably energetic. Aside from his horn playing, singing, and boogie-dancing, he's a true showman who can work a crowd better than anyone I've ever seen. He was on stage for close to three hours, and then signed personalized autographs for 45 minutes after he finished. So I now have a poster from the show with "To Amy, Love Ya, Maceo" scrawled on it.
If you're not familiar with Maceo Parker's music, I'd recommend Life on Planet Groove for a good intro.
Thursday, September 6, 2001
Weather Planner is no longer available to the public? What the hell is this all about? Not that I had much faith in the site anyway -- forecasting the weather years in advance? -- but now that I can't get in, I really want to. It's not like they can really keep the weather forecast a secret when there are five weather segments in a half-hour news broadcast and people watch the Weather Channel like there might be a combination tornado/blizzard/drought if they turn it off. Yeesh.
Wednesday, September 5, 2001
More on Edy's: My new favorite flavor is the Dexter's Laboratory Limited Edition kind with the chocolate covered marshmallow Dexters and Didis in it. But now I see that they'll be shipping Pumpkin for fall. Mmmm...pumpkin.
Speaking of cartoons, I think the most underrated cartoon ever has got to be Two Stupid Dogs. I don't have cable anymore, but it used to be on the Cartoon Network at like three in the morning, and I'd frequently stay up to watch it. I can't remember any of the specifics about the show (since it was on so late), but I do remember laughing about each episode for weeks. It was to the point where I'd be doing something else, start thinking about it, and begin to giggle out loud. Yeah, so I'd get some weird looks. So what?
Tuesday, September 4, 2001
So, email me if you have any advice, but my email is all screwed up, so if you actually sent me something in the past few days (not bloody likely, I know) and I haven't emailed back, it's probably because I haven't read it.
Monday, September 3, 2001
Sunday, September 2, 2001
On the way home, I saw two billboards which struck me as funny. The first said, "I scream, you scream, we all scream for pork loin." The second, which was in the middle of a construction zone, was printed in a font that looked like a child's handwriting and read, "Please don't drive fast. My daddy works here. Love, Abbi." I thought the latter sign was cute but, judging by the number of cars flying by me when I was a good ten miles over the speed limit, highly ineffective. I thought the former was just inaccurate. Who screams for pork loin? Granted, no one screams for ice cream either, but at least it rhymes.
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