The Annual Bitch
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHEN WILL IT STOP RAINING??? THE SKY HAS BEEN DISMAL AND GREY FOR 2 WEEKS STRAIGHT!!!
ahem. ok. I'm done now.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHEN WILL IT STOP RAINING??? THE SKY HAS BEEN DISMAL AND GREY FOR 2 WEEKS STRAIGHT!!!
My trusty cell phone broke in half last night, so I was forced to visit the mall to get a new one. After picking the phone closest to my old model (dear GOD I hope I can figure out how it works!)I decided to take a lap around the shopping mall, being Holiday season and all.
I used to sleep with my hand in my kitty's big soft belly. Most mornings I'd wake up with my hand under his body...he'd rolled over during the night and so he was lying on my hand when we awoke.
I can see the chin of Pizza Zen Master! He shaved off his enormous beard yesterday!
Just came from the grand opening of the new Bartell's drug store near my apartment. No, I didn't plan my day around it, just happened to be across the street in time for the ribbon-cutting ceremony. Don't think I've ever been to a ribbon-cutting before. The new store is yet another far-too-beautiful drugstore, like the gigantic new Walgreens and Rite-Aids. But, with Bartell's, the aisles aren't 8 feet tall. They're about 5 feet. So, you can see over the tops and spy on the other customers and see who's buying Fleet Enema solution and Rogaine and Playtex tampons. And they can watch you buy the stuff, too.
My boss at the pizza place wrote up a series of guidelines to help me deal with complaint calls. Now that I have that, perhaps I won't feel so rudderless when I deal with upset and angry callers. Maybe I'll figure out a way to handle this and I won't quit, after all.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm awfully sorry. Oh, I'm really, really sorry about that...
Pizza Zen Master has worked at the pizza place for over 5 years. Pizza Zen Master eats at least 2 meals a day there, five days a week. He is NOT SICK of pizza yet! Pizza Zen Master is a smart guy. Really, really brilliant. He writes essays about the state of the government and the world and posts them on his website and on places like Craig's List. In his spare time he enjoys role-playing games and pretends to be a pirate. Seriously. There are places in this world today where you can go off for a weekend and pretend to be a pirate.
It has happened. I can't stand the smell or sight of pizza. Most nights, anyway. However, if I'm hungry enough, I'll eat it, especially if it is a kind I haven't had before. But I'm ready to stop eating it all together.
Can't get over this one. The Universe moves in amazing ways!
My sweet kitty, Saturn, has been gone for almost a month now. This past week, I've been cat sitting for a friend. I spent Sunday night with li'l Squeek, so she wouldn't feel too lonely. I awoke Monday morning hacking and snorting in a delightfully feminine way. Suddenly, I had a realization: I used to wake up this way every morning when Saturn was around. I haven't had a morning cough in 4 weeks!
For the first time in many years, I went out with the rest of America and celebrated the 4th of July. The pizza company I work for had a company picnic at a beautiful waterside park. They served delicious food, had fun and games for the kids and a pizza tossing competition for the hearty, testosterone-laden young bucks who spin out pies every night.
I feel like a train wreck.
Saturn "e-pie" Silberman 1991 - 2007
I call the journey I took between 2000 and 2007 my "educational odyssey". This is the trip I took back East to put myself through college and the continuation of my education back home in Seattle.
I got rid of my post "Discarding Mental Debris" after 4 days. In it, I detailed a profanity-filled email I sent to my former professor who bullied an entire classroom with his belligerence and did me a grave injustice. Nothing makes me angrier than abuse of power.
The other day, I finally received closure on the last remaining open wound of my life. It feels good and it feels awful at the same time. Perhaps I am too strong and individualistic to ever seek solace in the arms of a man. While I have always remained open and vulnerable despite my best efforts to protect myself, my strong streak of independence frightens most suitors away. Perhaps this is my burden to carry throughout my days. Perhaps it is also my blessing.
OK, I know I am tragically UN-hip. I don't even know if they call the folks who play the turntables in hip-hop DJs or something else. But, I had an insight about their art a little while back and wanted to share it with y'all.
I have my own apartment! I am once again autonomous! Hooray!!
This is true. You can ask anybody who knows me.
I awoke one morning last week with an idea for an ethnomusicology topic. I recalled the musicians' referral service I used to use back when I was a struggling singer in Top-40 and cover bands. I paid a yearly subscription and my name was forwarded to groups looking for lead vocalists. I found work in 3 touring bands and 1 house band by using the service. I thought this pre-Internet networking system might make for interesting research. Surprisingly, I found the service still in existence, although now residing on the World Wide Web. I sought advice from ethno professors and friends on how I might approach the topic and I left a phone message for the service to verify my claims. Several days later, I got a message on my cell phone from the man who runs the referral service.
Already!
I got a part-time job in the burgeoning field of pizza delivery. Hooray!
I guess I jammed my fist on my reset button (see last post).