May 26

Great news from the scientific front: rather than focusing attention on developing vaccines for the latest plague to end all plagues (that would be the avian flu, for those of you who can't read or don't own a TV), scientists today heralded their latest success -- the artificial penis. Yes, the artificial penis. I kid you not. No longer will impotence be seen as god's way of suggesting that we lay off the procreating. Instead, it will be a cry for help...a cry for "a graft of specially engineered penile tissue" to help men "regrow" a functioning third leg. (For the weblink, click here: http://health.msn.com/centers/mensexualhealth/articlepage.aspx?cp-documentid=100136192&GT1=8165) Ouch. So guys, I have a question for you. I know y'all are pretty fond of the one-eyed monster down there. If your little buddy isn't functioning as described in the instruction manual, are you really going to let some wacked out researcher use scalpels and needles to attach a skin graft to your dick? And then wait for it to "regrow" itself?

Meanwhile in other news: Does anyone else find it amusing that Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro is receiving more attention (read: cards, gifts, monetary donations) after breaking his hind leg in the Preakness than VP Cheney did after his heart attack?

April 27

Passing the Buck 101: Anyone looking for a lesson on how to coast through life while taking no responsibility for any of his or her own actions should pay close attention to the controversy surrounding video games. Granted it hasn't hit full fever pitch yet, but now the federal government is beginning to stick its proverbial nose into the mess. Officals are crying foul over the fact that video game ratings and warnings on packaging don't include all the potential scenes of violence or offensive content the games include. Of course, no one's bothered to point out that the movie rating system doesn't include all the offensive material we might see either, but who am I to interject common sense into the fray. Nevertheless, I digress. I really don't care whether Microsoft annotates its video game packaging in such detail that XBox game cases begin to look like the Seattle Metro phone book. Really. I don't care. What bothers me is that people are blaming the video game industry for the rise in gun violence among teens and pre-teens. Granted, more kids are playing violent video games these days. But who, exactly, is buying these expensive video game consoles and $50-a-pop games for these kids? Because I'll be damned if I can remember a time when my per-week allowance was enough for me to afford a $50+ game. If Mommy and Daddy can afford to go out and blow upwards of $300 on a video game set up, and can be bribed into buying their kids games with titles like "Grand Theft Auto" or "HitMan", then who's really to blame here? Not the video game industry. Certainly not. Blame the parents. Blame the parents for not taking the time to educate their children that there is a distinct line between fantasy and reality. Blame the parents for not teaching their children about responsibility and accountability. Blame the parents for not instilling enough common sense and common courtesy into their children. Blame the parents for blaming the video game industry. The more often children see adults -- their role models -- passing the buck, the less likely these kids will take responsibility for their own actions. Nothing will ever be their own fault. It's happening already, and it's utterly frightening that we continue allowing people to constantly pawn off their own responsibility on someone else. How many of us are sick of hearing that Joe Schmoe decided to take a gun to his high school because of a video game? How many of us are sick of hearing parents say "Well, it's the video game industry that's to blame for our kids being violent." Bullshit. Joe Schmoe decided to take a gun to school because a parent or guardian didn't educate him about gun safety, didn't explain to him that there are better (and more responsible) ways of settling differences of opinion, and didn't show him how to be accountable for his own actions. And the parents are blaming the video game industry to cover up for their own shortcomings. So here's a thought: If you don't want your kids playing violent video games, don't buy them. And don't allow your kids to, either. Simple as that. And if your kid still decides to go out and shoot up his elementary school -- well then you might want to rethink those parenting skills.

Mar. 21

Government idocy, part 3,672,957: The state of Mississippi, always at the forefront of progressive thinking in our country, has outlawed the sale of ... how do I put this nicely ... sex toys. Yes, you heard me correctly. Sex toys. This is the same state that has made extramarital sex illegal. No sex, no sex toys ... next thing you know they'll be banning sex-for-pleasure altogether. I'm surprised there isn't a restriction on the time of day or number of times per week men are allowed to masturbate. This is also the same state that boasts the most lax gun control laws in the nation. Anyone else foreseeing the same problem I am? Forget crazed postal workers. Now we're going to be faced with crazed sex-deprived maniacs with a small arsenal of weapons storming state courthouses demanding their right to purchase and own battery-operated plastic models of male genitalia. Or life-like inflatable female companions. I can just imagine the jailhouse conversations:

"What were you arrested for, Mary?"

"Intent to distribute a vibrator."

"No shit! They got me for posession of a blow-up doll."

"Yeah, I heard Hank got picked up for possessing a four-inch rubber cock AND a Costco pack of batteries"

Please. Please tell me that the people of Mississippi have solved all their drug problems, their gang problems, their low-income-housing issues, their health care disputees, and their road complaints. Please tell me that no one in the state of Mississippi ever breaks a traffic law, curses in public, commits an act of domestic violence or steals clothing from a department store. Please tell me that the only reason the state decided to pass this unbelievably ludicrious law was that it literally didn't have anything better to do. No crime. No social ills. No deviancy of any sort. Please. Instead of manipulating the law as a way to set moral standards, why not focus on the real issues. Like education. Health care. Drug- and gang- related violence. But then again, that would make sense. And as we all know, common sense has no place in government activities.

Mar. 16
Things you don't hear everyday: After receiving a call about a man trying to kick down a door in a low-income neighborhood, police found the suspect passed out near the house ... laying on a sweatshirt containing stolen socks and meat. Socks. And meat. Steak, to be specific. Proving once again that truth is, in fact, stranger than fiction. I guess everyone is entitled to have a need for tube socks and meat. Although not necessarily at the same time.

Things that come to mind while driving home after working all day for a narcissitic, ADD-prone boss: Gee. A beer truck. I wonder how hard it would be to hijack the truck. And drink all the beer. God. I need a beer. Or wine. Or some sort of alcohol. Maybe we should install a beer fridge at work. Or a wall of beer taps. Damn. It's getting off the freeway. Oh well. Almost home. Does anyone know how to drive in this state? Nope. Must just be me. No. Wait. They're all Canadian. That explains everything.

Mar. 10

Government decisions that go against common sense: Washington state edition. Granted, most governmental decisions are not what would be termed reasonable. Few things are, these days. However, a recent Seattle Times article made me stop to consider, yet again, how idiotic some of our elected officials can be. (Bear in mind, that we're the idiots who elected these folks).

Feb. 20

Watching the Olympics over the last week has led me to two conclusions: First, NBC is proving remarkably adept at driving its ratings so far into the ground that there's no chance of them ever seeing light again. This fact is made more impressive when you consider that, well, it's the Olympics. Even people who don't own TVs somehow tune in for the Olympics. At least, they did. If they're smart, they're all watching the coverage on CBC. The Canadians, showing more common sense than their neighbors to the south, are actually broadcasting REAL, CONTINUOUS COVERAGE of the games. Viewers can actually watch 10 to 15 minutes of coverage without commercial or commentator-interruptus. NBC, on the other hand, shows a 3-minute edited clip of four American athletes competing, covers one token international athlete competing, breaks for 6 minutes of commercials, then returns with a 15-minute, heavily music-laden feature on an American Olympic athlete you've never heard of in your life. Last night, they devoted more time to the figure skating WARM-UPs than they did to actual coverage of the 2-man bobsledding.

Watching this Olympic "coverage" with some friends, we began to devise ideas for making the games more compelling for NBC and its viewers. First, the sport of curling is far too safe. Flat ice, no distractions, not interesting. Now, if the curlers were to don speedskates, and the curling were to take place on the luge/skeleton/bobsled track, then we might have something. There would be nothing more fascinating than watching two broom-wielding skaters zip down a frozen tube chasing a 5-pound rock travelling at more than 60mph. Now that's a sport. I'd tune in for that.

And cross-country skiing: boring to compete in, boring to watch. Now, if they'd make the sport full-contact.... Allow the skiiers to use those long poles for more than just impulsion. Imagine two Norweigian guys crouched down head-to-rear as they glide down a hill....and then out of nowhere, a Swedish guy skis up, jams his ski pole between the Norweigian's legs and trips him. The second Norweigian speeds up behind the Swedish guy and jabs him in the rear with a pole, causing the Swede to lose his balance and eventually ski (at slow speed) into a tree. As they ski toward the finish line, skiiers could relentlessly whack at each other with their poles, much like jockeys at the Kentucky Derby. You've got to admit, it would definitely make things more exciting.

And what about luge? Sure, it's exciting already, but imagine luge pursuit. Start one sledder 5 seconds after the first and see if they can catch up to each other. How about freestyle ski jumping, where the skiers are required to do at least one layout with a full twist before hitting the ground? Practical? Probably not. But let's face it. NBC needs help.

Jan. 23
Among the myriad linguistic anomalies that piss me off is the use of the word "predeceased" in newspaper obituaries. I swear to god, if I see this word used one more time, heads will roll. 'Predeceased' is not a word. It never has been and I hope to all that is right and holy in this world that it never will be. Why, you ask? It seems to make perfect sense. "Pre" is one of those prefixes that precedes lots of words in our language (like, for example, the words in this sentence.) HOWEVER...the great linguistic minds that apparently work at funeral homes have failed to realize that "pre" (which, for those of you who have never seen a dictionary in your lives, means "before") can't actually apply to events that have already happened, or are currently happening. It raises those whole space-time-continuum issues. Pre (before) deceased (died) How in hell do you die before you die? Do you get a memo? Does some great heavenly voice from inside your vodka bottle gently whisper in your ear that you're about to have a permanent hangover? I'm not sure what scares me more: the fact that some idiot on an embalming-fluid high came up with the word, or the fact that the general public -- which claims to be SOOO well-educated -- fails to see the practical linguistic failures of the word. Someone send help to these people. Or a dictionary. Or just clout them with a two-by-four to the head and ask them if they pre-excpected that to happen.

Jan. 12
Well, it's been a while. And yet, the idiocy continues. This time, we're moving on to sports. The Green Bay Packers, who completed a dismal 4-and-12 season this year, announced the firing head coach Mike Sherman on Jan. 2. And today, the team announced that his replacement would be San Francisco 49ers offensive coordinator Mike McCarthy. Brillant, guys. Maybe the cheese on your heads was a little tight. What better way to improve your chances for the 2006 season than by hiring the offensive coordinator from a team with a record equally as pathetic as your own. If the offense isn't working, your team isn't winning. Simple as that. So naturally, the Packers hire an offensive coordinator who has demonstrated the same skill in his field as Custer did at his last stand. First Brett Favre, now this? Please. Say buh-bye to that waiting list for Packers season tickets. If the team plays as badly next year as it did this year, they're gonna have to start paying people to attend.

Dec. 14
The idiocy strikes again — this time from two sides: the über-liberal, fad-charged-politics of our celebrities, and from the religious Republican right wing. On the left, we have celebrities everywhere bemoaning the fate of America. Our country is destined to plunge into the clutches of hell now that California decided to execute Stanley Williams — founder of the Crips gang and convicted murderer of four people in 1979, who, despite writing books encouraging a gang-free lifestyle, still refused to apologize or express remorse for his actions. I'm sorry. What, exactly, is the debate here? Kill someone, get caught, get tried, get convicted, get sentenced, get the death penalty. That's the judicial system, and it seems to have worked properly. Personally, I'm a little less concerned over our country's death penalty policies and a little more concerned over the fact that our liberal lefties think that anyone who writes a children's book is automatically a saint. Next thing we know, Gary Ridgway is going be elevated to the position of role model. I shudder at the thought. Someone needs to insert a little bit of backbone into the left side of our country.
And then there's the god-promoting right, raising holy hell over the fact that Christmas has been sanitized and purged of any religious implications. As if it's only been a problem recently. Give me a break. Christmas has been a purely commercial endeavor for the past century now. You think any holiday would be this big if it weren't for companies like Hallmark and Coca-Cola? Religion vacated the premises long ago. Today, in most of society, Christmas stands for presents, candy, cards, cookies, trees, holly, mistletoe and twinkle lights — none of which have a whole lot of religious implication. So bring back Christmas sales, Christmas cards, Christmas music, Christmas trees and any other Christmas-y crap you can think of. And if you want a real sense of Christmas, go to church. Stop complaining about the fact that Christmas isn't mainstream culture anymore. You've got your Christmas sanctuary, so make the most of it. Besides, this country was based on freedom from religious persecution, not freedom to persecute people because they aren't religious.

Dec. 2
More idiocy from our elected government (not that it's a surprise anymore): The TSA, properly known as the Transportation Security Administration, can now no longer be called the "Takes Scissors Away" agency. Yes, you heard right. The brilliant minds that make up the head of this federal-tax-dollar-spending monstrosity decided recently that small scissors, nail clippers, nail files, pliers and screwdrivers WILL be allowed back on planes departing from the good ol' USA. While most sane, normal travelers heave a collected sigh of relief knowing that they don't have to ferret through their carry-on luggage for potentially lethal manicure implements, the federal air marshals (those would be the guys with the guns), pilots and flight attendants are in a state of nervous panic. MSNBC quoted an anonymous air marshal as saying “These items [the TSA] are now allowing back in the hands of passengers are nothing less than lethal weapons." I kid you not. This guy has a gun, knows how to use it, is allowed to use it on occasion, and he's panicking about some nutcase with pair of nail clippers. Or for that case, a normal person with a pair of nail clippers. I seriously hope that if there's a crazy guy with a nail file terrorizing a plane full of people, a federal air marshal WITH A GUN would stand a pretty good chance of "disarming" the guy. So to speak. And if the TSA guys are going to start frothing at the mouth over nail files, they ought to start raising hell about the flight attendants allowing passengers to have blankets. And pillows. And plastic forks. I'm sure these things, in the hands of suitably determined passengers, could be turned into "lethal weapons". But you don't see anyone denying passengers these luxuries. And what about a guy who's completely weaponless and tries to strangle someone to death? Couldn't the airline food be considered a "lethal weapon"? When will the idiocy cease?

Nov. 21
"We use lawful capabilities to collect vital information and we do it in a variety of unique and innovative ways, all of which are legal and none of which are torture." So says Porter Goss, head of the CIA, regarding those persistent little rumors that his agency tortures the people they ever-so-sneakily smuggle out of foreign countries. And thus, the doublespeak of rationalization begins. Personally, I don't care whether our country tortues people or not. Sure, it's probably not moral, but neither is blowing up a building full of people. If the torture of one person is what it takes to save the lives of countless others, I say go for it. I'm pretty sure David Hume, Jeremy Benthan and John Stuart Mill would back me up on this, being the utilitarian philosophers they are. But torture or no torture, there's no pleasing the American people. Such is the blessing and curse of free press and free speech. Nevertheless, torture or not, if our country is going to actually come away from this administrative political nightmare relatively unscathed (if that's even possible at this point) someone out there is going to have to actually TALK to the people. None of this "unique and innovative" crap. No hazily positive "legal" information collecting. What is it that you do? If it's torture, own up to it. If it's not torture, at least give us a half-decent idea of what "innovative" methods are used -- bearing in mind that whole protection of national security thing. The country is likely so jaded by political scandal and coverups by now that it would welcome the truth. Or even part of the truth. But then again, if our government suddenly developed some shred of decency, who knows what kind of political fallout we wouldn't have to deal with....

Nov. 11
Yesterday, what with the advent of the heated bra and all, I thought I'd heard everything. But apparently not. Apparently when the holiday over-spending season rolls around, the gadget-makers of the world increase their intake of illegal amphetamines and, accordingly, create products that would even look absurd and out of place to James Bond.
Allow me to explain. Driving, in this day and age, isn't so much about actually piloting a vehicle as it is about turning a car into a mini-office: PDAs, cell phones, GPS devices, portable computers — you name it, most business people have it in their cars. And not only that, they're generally using at least two of these products at a time while also trying to steer, drink coffee and make rude gestures at the person they're tailgating.
But now, there seems to be a trend toward turning cars and trucks into mini-kitchens. As if we needed any more distractions. Thanks to the Seattle Times and Google, I've been made aware that these new, distraction-inducing products are now on the market: A portable car fridge, great for those college kids making a late-night beer run; a cigarette-lighter adapted car oven (yes, oven) just in case you suddenly get a craving for pizza on the way home; the Burton Pot Popper — a crock-pot-like device that allows you to pop corn and make a lovely stew all while driving; and the Stove-to-Go. Try explaining any one of these things to the tow-truck driver who pulls your sorry butt out of the ditch and the state patrol trooper who's writing you a hefty ticket for being an idiot. "You see, officer, I was just about to take my pizza out of the oven when I burned my hand and inadvertantly jerked the wheel to the right...." MmHmm. Sure. And sadly, I don't think there's any statute in the state law that forbids cooking while driving. Not that there shouldn't be, mind you. Perhaps this: "RCW 46.200.01: Illegal baking of pizza while driving. RCW 46.200.02: Illegal popping of corn while operating a motor vehicle." Well, you get the idea.
And just in case you think I'm kidding: Seattle Times-Eat and Drive
The portable oven with link to Pot Popper

Nov. 10
Oh my god, now I've heard everything. A Japanese lingere-maker has developed a heated bra for winter. And matching shorts. Based on the photo, it appears that the bra is not only heated, but furry (of course!). Removable pads in the bra can be heated via microwave or in hot water for a truly warm-and-fuzzy feeling. Is anyone else thinking that perhaps these people have conumed a wee bit too much sake? And if you think I'm kidding, check out the photo: here

Nov. 9
Our tax dollars put to waste: The Kaiser Family Foundation, based in Menlo Park, California, just put out a study detailing the rise in sex-based content on TV. I only have one question (other than to ask where the heck Menlo Park, California is...): Did we really need a study to prove this? Schools are beginning to teach sex-ed to younger and younger grades, kids' clothes are beginning to make Mariah Carey's outfits look almost prudish, and discussions of carnal topics are becoming more and more mainstream. It's no surprise that sex is so prevalent on TV. Shit, sex sells. That's been a widely known fact since the free-love days of the 60s and 70s. But apparently, that knowledge isn't enough, so the Kaiser folks decided to do a study to prove it to us. That's one of the problems with our country: too many studies, not enough action.

October 21
Idiocy in action: In Kamloops, B.C., during a hunting trip, a father was shot in the back by his 6-year-old son wielding a .22 rifle. Where do I begin here? That statement in itself should be cause for some serious head-slapping within the immediate family. Unfortunately, and this only makes it worse, the family issued a statment saying that the son had been exposed to rifles since he was 2, and was familiar with how to handle a rifle safely. Let me clarify something for you, folks. The kid is SIX YEARS OLD! Six! There's a reason firearm safety is not a topic included in the kindergarten curriculum. Six-year-old kids are barely able to read, let alone properly handle firearms. Four years of experience doesn't cut it, in my book. At two, most kids are just learning how to pee in a toilet. And that's usually as much as their barely-developed mind is able to grasp at that point in their life. You're not going to convince me that a kid who still thinks glue is a dietary staple is mentally competent enough to be anywhere near guns. I'm not even going to start with how ludicrous it is to take a 6-year-old on a hunting trip. Most people don't even take dogs that young on hunting trips. I forsee a Darwin Award in this family's future.

October 18
Someone in professional sports finally removed his head from his ass and made what may be the first common-sense decision in history. (For those of you out there scratching your heads, $2.7 million-per-game salary decisions do not make sense -- unless you are the player on the receiving end of this orgy of money-giving.) The NBA on Monday announced a new player dress code. Yes. A dress code. And surprisingly enough, it's a dress code that does not include oversized jerseys, track pants and hubcap-sized bling. Somewhere, P. Diddy and Eminem are wringing their hands over who will buy and gratuitously advertise their overpriced attempts at fashion. Beginning Nov. 1, at the beginning of the season, players will be required to adhere to a minimum dress code of business casual for league and team activities, promotional appearances, and arrival to and departure from games. That means no oversized shorts and tanktops, no profanity-laced Tshirts, no gold chains piled six deep on a player's neck, no indoor sunglass-wearing (those lights aren't that bright, even if you are hung-over), and no earmuff-sized headphones. Finally. Granted, it's a bit ridiculous that it took the NBA this long to pass a rule that requires their professionals to dress just as professionally as the rest of us in the "real" world, but I think it's been worth the wait. Hopefully the developing generation of whiny, petulant children will actually be able to take a cue from professional athletes -- at least in terms of style. Maybe the next rule the league passes will enforce a code of professional behaviour, so that players' attitudes will match their appearance. We can only hope...

October 10
Thoughts for the day:
What is it about rain that seems to bring out the worst in Washington drivers? And I don't just mean the stragglers from the east side of the state who think of rain as something that happens once every six months. I mean born-and-bred west-siders who think of fall, winter and spring as "the rainy season." Every time the skies start sputtering forth with their watery emissions, drivers are wont to slam on their brakes, hunch forward in their seats and peer frantically out the windshield, hoping against hope that they'll be able to stop at their espresso stands safely. It's as if they've never seen rain before, let alone driven in it. These are also the same people who more than likely learned how to drive in the rain, took their driver's test in the rain, and regularly commute in the rain a good 265 days out of the year.
A suggestion to those of you thinking of getting married: elope. There is absoloutely nothing about planning for a wedding that could be considered enjoyable. Not even wedding dress shopping. The joy in that little event is relegated to nothingness once you start looking at the prices. I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who think I'm callous and unfeeling for not gushing openly about the wonderfulness of having a wedding and getting married. These are obviously people who have not tried to plan a wedding on a budget. I'm sure once the joyful day arrives, it'll be a truly magical day. Magical and expensive, that is. Kind of like trying to buy Disneyland.
October 5
There are certain statements that I find questionable. Take, for example, the ad placed in a local classified paper: "Adorable half East German, half show German Shepherd puppies, perfect for single females looking for companion or jogging partner. Ideal family guard dogs,(the usual contact info) No Drug Dealers Please!" Now. Does any part of this strike you as odd? Yeah. Me too. Because if I were a drug dealer, the first thing I'd do would be to announce my profession. "Hi, I'm a drug dealer and I need to buy a German Shepherd to safeguard my crack." It also makes me wonder whether the person selling these dogs has had problems like this in the past. Although, really, you'd think a Glock would be a bit more useful to a drug dealer than a dog. But hey, I'm probably a sane, rational person. What would I know...

September 29
The brillance of our legal system, part I: I was talking to a State Patrol trooper the other day, and he mentioned that he'd recently had a DUI arrest thrown out in court -- for the most ludicrous of reasons. The woman facing the DUI charges claimed that she was distraught over the loss of her family members in Hurricane Katrina which led her to drink. It would have been a reasonable defense, except that her DUI arrest was in February, 2005, a good six months prior. And yet, somehow, the judge allowed the case to be thrown out on this "ESP defense." This makes even the "twinkie defense" seem plausible.

September 19
For 10 days now, I have been amongst the ranks of the gainfully employed. And as much as I hated having nothing to do, I'm beginning to remember it fondly. Sleeping in is definitely a bonus. Having time to do mundane things, like go to the bank, is pretty much a lost cause during the week. But the whole paycheck thing -- that, I can definitely deal with. My drive, however, could stand some improvement. I suspect it says something about the quality of my job if I can stand to drive an hour each way to work every day. Whether I develop a galloping case of road rage in the next month is still up in the air. The longer your drive is every day, the exponentially larger the number of morons you encounter. Driving for an hour averages about three morons per minute. Half-awake drivers are either travelling at barely above an idle, or zinging past in the right-hand lane at mach 10. And Murphy's Law generally dictates that the one person who actually wants to do the speed limit -- and I do mean exactly: not one mile per hour faster or slower -- is directly in front of you. ...generally on the way home. But my favorite driver by far is the one wielding a cell phone in one hand, a latte in the other and whose head is either buried in their purse or doing a Linda Blair impression while trying to scream at whatever miscreants are in the back seat of the minivan. Somehow, I don't remember those skills being tested on the driver's exam. Perhaps the state should revamp the test to include these basic skills.

September 1
There are certain things in life that I'm good at. Shooting a gun is not one of those things. Sure, if I practiced more frequently I might have some skill. But I still wouldn't be good at it. If I ever ended up in a situation where I actually had to shoot something smaller than a 10-by-10 inch piece of paper from a distance of more than 10 feet, I would be so screwed. And if I happened to be walking, running, kneeling or laying down, I don't even think I could hit the broad side of a barn. In a situation like that, I would have better luck taking the bullets out of the gun and throwing them at someone. Thank god someone in this house is a good shot, because I'm certainly going to be no help in an emergency. I think the only reason my significant other takes me shooting is for comic relief. After watching me shoot, pretty much anyone would look like a marksman. I even think the dog could be considered a fair shot compared to me.

August 27
So I survived the wedding dress-shopping. Two days, and it was done and over with. Ugh. There are certain things that women should be warned about before going shopping for wedding dresses. First, the damn dresses weigh about 15 pounds apiece. Trying to drag two or three of the things back to a dressing room is about as fun and easy as trying to push a semi truck uphill in the rain. Second, forget any notion you may have about being able to dress yourself. So you've been dressing yourself since you were five or six. Big deal. Try hoisting 15 pounds of overpriced satin foofy-ness over your head and finding your way out of it. Not gonna happen. Third, you don't just get to wear the dress. You get to wear the medieval-torture style corset that lifts and shapes! What joy. Personally I'm a fan of breathing and being able to bend over, but hey...really, they're not necessities. And let's just say that I don't have a whole lot that needs to be "lifted." And finally, if, like me, you want a dress that makes you appear to actually have a waist, you get to wear a fun little slip that looks like something out of the Addams family. It stands up by itself. Clothes should not do that. Ever. As it was, once I was lifted, tucked, sucked, zipped and laced into about fifty zillion dresses, the magic was gone. Granted, the magic of the occasion wasn't really there to begin with, but after an hour and a half of being dressed and undressed, I felt like bridal Barbie. Whee. The only good news is that it's alllllll over with. Thank god.

August 22
So tomorrow I have to go wedding dress-shopping. Notice I say "have to" not "get to." In the grand scheme of my life so far, the only thing I've looked forward to with more dread was when I got my wisdom teeth pulled. And at least with that experience the doctor gave me valium before the procedure to take the edge off. Oh, how I wish.... I'm gonna need a constant intravenous flow of vodka tomorrow to keep from being a heinous bitch to the poor sappy sales lady who has the misfortune to try and force-feed dresses to me. It's not that I don't want to try on dresses (oh wait...I don't want to try dresses on, silly me...), it's just that I already know what I want, and I know that I'm really really picky. (I spent a whole day in Tiffanys and couldn't find a single thing I liked...trust me...I'm picky...but at least I recognize my faults.) I also see no point in paying out the ass for a dress that's going to need hundreds of dollars more in alterations when I could just get the blasted thing made custom and save myself all the time. BUT, apparently wedding dress shopping is one of those cutesy traditions. I'm gonna try not to start a new tradition of puking on the sales-lady. Seriously. The whole wedding thing is SO much easier if you're a guy. It's just not fair. Rent a tux, show up at the right time, and they're done. Ughhh....I can't wait to have all this planning crap over and done with.

August 18
So now that I'm engaged, I get to have the unbridled joy of planning for a wedding. This is right up there on my list of fun things to do...right next to getting a root canal. Why, you ask? Shouldn't wedding planning be a magical, exciting experience? Unfortunately, it's not nearly as nifty as it sounds. First I had to pick a place to be married -- simple, right? Not quite. Apparently there are obsessive brides and parents-of-brides who pick out their wedding locations decades in advance -- for instance, when the bride is born. Silly me, I decided to find a place only a year in advance. Which means that most places are already booked up, and have been for several years. And don't forget the joy of dress shopping at huge megastores like David's Bridal -- which, I'm convinced, is the McDonalds of bridal wear. Try fighting off sappy, patronizing salespeople while wearing a $500 dress that can weigh upwards of 15 pounds. Brides should go through self-defense training for this sort or thing. And what about invitations? And a bridal registry? And choosing a photographer? And a florist? And a caterer? The only thing I'm interested in right now is choosing a bartender and a two-gallon jug of Maalox. And I get to enjoy this "magical" experience for another year. Goody.

August 4
Another item to add to the list of things that make me realize Americans are utterly and completely incompent: This morning, while pouring myself a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats, I noticed a warning on the side of the box. And what does this warning say?? "Contains Wheat Ingredients" Holy shit, a revelation! IT'S IN THE NAME OF THE CEREAL, PEOPLE. Sheesh. The sad part is that the warning is undoubtedly on there because some MENSA candidate with a wheat allergy poured himself a bowl of cereal without having the forethought to consider that the name of cereal includes the word "wheat," then sued the company. It's really sad when mundane things like cereal have to come with warnings. Pretty soon they're going to have to put warning labels on hot cups of coffee. Oh, wait.....

July 18
You know what I'm really really really sick of hearing? "We really appreciate you coming in for the interview, but we've decided to hire someone with a little more experience." I get more and more enraged every time I hear this phrase a couple days after I complete what, at the time, seemed to be a pleasant, promising interview. Let me tell you something, people: I CAN'T GET ANY MORE EXPERIENCE IN MY CHOSEN FIELD UNLESS SOMEONE DECIDES TO HIRE ME! It's a catch-22. I am more than capable of being an editor, a writer, a marketing copywriter and so on and so forth. I didn't go to college and get a degree by being stupid and incompetent. And I wouldn't be applying for a position unless I thought I had the capability to actually do the job. Sure, maybe I don't have all the experience in the world. But I work hard and I learn fast. Apparently no one in this county is willing to take a chance on someone with a college degree and lot of motivation and skill, but with limited experience. I can't decide whether to be incredibly depressed or incredibly peeved. The combination of the two is almost more than I can handle and stay sane. If, by some freak chance, I manage to get another interview for a job, I wonder if I'll have a hard time not yelling at the interviewer that experience doesn't always equal skill when it comes time for hiring. Ugh. I think I understand now what causes people to go on shooting rampages. Don't worry -- I wouldn't act on it. I just understand the urge.

July 12
Ahh, vacation. Such a wonderful thing -- up until you get the credit card bills for all the fun, relaxing times you had. Mine was a joy -- the actual vacation part, not so much the travel to and from. So here's a word to the wise: If you're planning an international vacation (to somewhere outside north america) please consider spending extra money for business or first class seats. Seriously. If you're going to be stuck inside a tin can for longer than seven hours, do not travel economy class. I speak from experience. My vacation this year was to Australia (14hour plane ride) and New Zealand (13 hour plane ride). And in the interest of saving what little money I don't have, I booked economy class seats. That's the nice name for them. If the airlines actually called them what they were, no one would travel back there. In actuality, "economy" class really means "cheap" class. The seats are a lot like fabric covered sardine cans with armrests. See, in first and business class, you actually have more than 10 inches of legroom. In cheap class, they pack the seats together so tightly that even Kate Moss would have a tight squeeze getting in and out. The legroom is non-existent, and trying to remove anything from the bags you've shoved under the seats in front of you is an exercise in contortionism. And the actual seats themselves were designed by the Marquis de Sade: the clamshell approach to chiropractic health. It's like trying to get comfortable inside an eggshell -- there is no way that's a comfortable position for the back. And let's not forget that the actual seat itself is nothing more than a fabric-covered holder for the flotation device down there. There is no padding on the seats in cheap class. And no matter how much free liquor you consume, you can't drown out the throbbing pain in your posterior from constant sitting. So for the sake of your health, your back and your rear end, consider business class.

June 17
Americans are getting dumber. Granted, those of us with the ability to look objectively at our society as a whole have probably noticed this trend over the years, but I think it's getting worse. Case in point: consumer purchasing trends in the auto market. During the past several years, we've been made aware by news stories and enviro-nuts that our global supplies of oil are fast being depleted. Gas prices have gone up, and car companies are finally getting off their butts and developing hybrid gas/electric cars. (Of course, the technology for electric cars has been around since the mid 1800s -- and in 1900 nearly 24% of the automobiles sold were fully electric cars -- but hey, gas was somehow a better option and all the electric car knowhow somehow lapsed over the last 150-odd years.) So naturally, a common-sense consumer in our society should consider purchasing a gas-efficient vechicle, right? Maybe not a hybrid vehicle necessarily, but perhaps something that would routinely get 28 to 35 miles per gallon, right? Of course not. Consumers today are subscribing to the big-truck-small-dick theory of consumption and purchasing vehicles that could cart around a small army with room to spare. Truck and SUV sales have skyrocketed. Naturally. We're being warned that our non-renewable oil source is getting sucked dry, so we go out and create and purchase vehicles that suck down gas faster than an alcoholic in a beer-drinking contest. We're stupid. And no offense to our fearless-but-shortsighted commander in chief, but he's not helping matters any. It makes me wonder if he actually understands what non-renewable means: limited supply. As in, once you use it, it ain't comin' back. Rather than ferreting around in our natural parks looking for the last drops of an energy source that's only going to make us more dependent on foreign nations in the future, maybe our current presidential MENSA candidate ought to be investing a little more time and energy into the research and development of sustainable energy sources and technology. Like BioDiesel. Or fuel cells. Or all those other un-federally-subsidized programs that are trying to prepare technology that can keep us from having a nation-wide meltdown when we do finally run out of oil. But then again, this kind of thinking is probably common sense. And there's no place for that in our government, now is there?

June12
I think I can actually feel my brain wasting away into nothingness. Unemployment might be fun for a little while, but I can't understand how some people can truly enjoy staying home and doing nothing. Sure, I like getting up at 10am as much as the next person. But really, what do I have to do? This is only exaserbating my procrastination. I could go grocery shopping today, but why? It's not as though I have anything to do tomorrow. I could clean the house today, but... well, you see where this is going. I think the freedom to do whatever I want is actually more restrictive. I have all the time in the world, but no motivation to actually accomplish anything. At least with work I knew I could finish the day feeling as though I'd been productive. Sure, I sometimes felt a little stressed to run errands after work and before going to bed, but hey, I at least had a purpose for getting up in the morning. Now, my purpose for getting up in the morning is the dog whining at me. I'm sure the dog is loving all the extra attention and people time, but really. I think I may go insane. Reading the paper and watching the news are two of only a few things that are keeping me from feeling like an undereducated slob. I need a job...a good one, not that cubicle-ized version of Hell that I quit.

June 6
Being as how I'm unemployed (I like to think of it as month-long hiatus from work) I've now got ample time to ponder the mysteries of life. This morning, my pondering took the form of channel surfing. It's amazing that with more than 60 channels to choose from on my current cable network, there is still not a damn thing on (besides the 24-hour news and weather channels...but who wants to watch those all the time?). What further amazes me are the things that ESPN apparently considers "sport." Take, for example, today's noon lineup. On ESPN, you've got the world's strongest man competition -- a dozen over-muscled, neanderthal-esque men bench-pressing european cars as if they were hot wheels. This I can see as a sport -- or failing that, at least some sort of justifiable athletic competition. And then there's ESPN2, the bastard child of ESPN. What are they televising?? A Scrabble competition. Seriously. Now, call me crazy, but I have yet to find anything even vaguely athletic about scrabble. Scrabble even makes curling look like a sport. I definitely don't remember a varsity Scrabble team in high school. You don't see nerdy folks at the gym pumping iron so that they can compete in international Scrabble tournaments. Now, if the brilliant minds at ESPN2 can conjure up a way to make Scrabble a bonafide athletic event, then they might have something. My suggestion is to make Scrabble into a full-contact game...something like lacrosse, perhaps...where contestants have to run around with letter squares and fling them into a net in order to score points. That would be worth watching.

June 3
It's been another couple weeks again, but I can promise that I'll be better at posting more often from now on....and ya wanna know why?? Because I quit my job today. Yay for me! It's incredibly liberating to finally be able to leave a place that drove me absoloutely nuts. Those of you who have been following my ever-so-perky comments about this new job will know what sorts of frustrations I was facing on a daily basis. Needless to say, all those frustrations built up to the point where I finally realized that I literally couldn't force myself to stay there any longer. I can put up with a lot of things, but I have a breaking point...and that was today. So I packed up my desk, walked out the door and, as I left, dropped a tactfully worded note to my now former boss, the company president, and company CEO letting them know what I thought of the position. This is what I said:
"This email is to inform you that as of this date, I am tendering my resignation as the Technical Writer at XXXX. During the month that I have spent in the position, I have discovered that neither the workload or the work fit the job description that we discussed. I have received minimal support from those people who were in positions to assist me in learning the duties of my position. I have also become aware that my position is "not a priority" according to many in the (company). I do not wish to continue working in such an environment and plan to pursue other employment. As a courtesy, I will refrain from referring to your organization as my former employer during my pursuit of employment.
As you begin your search for an appropriate person to fill this position, allow me to make a few suggestions based on my experience here.
First, if you do intend to hire another professional technical writer, please do more research into what work a technical writer is capable of doing. Review the "Technical Communication" book by Rebecca E. Burnett, visit www.stc.org or www.attw.org for more information. In addition, I suggest you more clearly define the role a technical writer will fulfill at the (company).
Second, if you do plan to hire a professional technical writer, I suggest making the position on-call, contract, or part-time. I have discovered that many of your department heads write the content for various manual sections -- an excellent idea since they are extremely familiar with their duties and are thus able to produce very comprehensive instructions and information.However, since a technical writer would not actually be doing this writing, it limits the duties he or she would be performing in a given day or week. In short, the manner in which you have organized the technical writer's duties means that there is not enough daily work to warrant a full 40 hour week.
My final suggestion to you would be to hire an administrative assistant. The type of work I performed during my tenure here was a far cry from what many would consider to be technical writing. Typing in the editing changes of others, organizing manual sections, making copies and mailing updates do not fall into the category of technical writing -- they are purely administrative duties. All the tasks that I have undertaken and completed here at the (company) are ones that could easily be accomplished by an administrative assistant.
The opportunity to work here has certainly been educational, and has helped me shape my ideas of what I see for myself in the future. I wish you the best in future endeavors."
Believe me, it took a whole lot of self-control not to say "Kiss my ass. You can take this job and shove it."

May 24
Looks like another few days since my last posting. I'd do this at work, but the stupid PC I use doesn't recognize the website, for whatever reason. Sigh. Nothing has changed in two weeks except my more rabid desire to find a new job where I get to do something more intellectually challenging than making copies and mailing things. For those of you who own businesses, or manage people: for the love of god...If you're going to create a new position, there are two things you MUST do before you hire someone to fill it. First, you gotta research the position so you know what the person you're hiring is capable of doing, and probably expects to be doing when he or she accepts the job. And second, please, make sure that there is actual work that needs to be done by a new person. What boggles my mind is that my current employers seem to think that it's going to take me 40 hours to complete 15 to 20 pages of editing changes. If I actually worked at the speed I'm used to, I could get that stuff done in about six to seven hours, max. I honestly don't know what my boss thinks I'm doing with my time back there in my cubicle in the corner. Either she has really low standards when it comes to getting work done quickly, or she has no idea how quickly I'm capable of working. And what's worse, even if she did know how fast I can work, there still wouldn't be enough work on a daily basis to keep me busy for a full eight hours each day. There's just not that much that needs to be done. It's just maddening to know that everyone considers you useful except yourself. Things like that can drive a person nuts. Believe me. I know.

May 16
Okay, so it's been a couple weeks. This is what happens when you take a new job. And by job, I don't mean actual work. Sadly, I was led to believe that my new position would actually require me to utilize the skills I learned in college ... the academic ones. As of right now, I'm utilizing the non-academic skills I learned -- skills like finding hours of amusement in online games like battleship and darts and blackjack. Skills like being able to prop my chin up on my hands and sleep, while still looking like I'm working at my computer. And skills like stretching out miniscule amounts of work into hours and hourse of labor just so I feel as though I have something productive to do. Unfortunately, this new job isn't living up to the expectations my new boss set for me in the job interview and pre-acceptance phone call and question period. I'm basically getting half again as much money as my last job for doing about, oh, five to six real hours of "work" a week. And as much as I love getting an essentially "free" paycheck, it's absoloutely maddening to have spent four years in college getting a degree that I honestly have yet to use. Quite frankly, the most productive hour of my day is lunch. Because I actually accomplish something. It's sad. Hopefully there's another job waiting for me out there ... soon ... before I run out of things to occupy my boredom.

May 4
More things that make me wonder. Take, for example, the commercial for 'Ambien.' It's a drug that helps people sleep. And yet, people are warned that one of the side effects is drowsiness. Well I would hope so. I highly doubt that people are taking it to stay awake. And I would sincerely hope that people taking this drug would realize that it should make them sleepy. But hey, we live in a country where we have to put warning labels on everything, including steaming hot cups of coffee, because people are too stupid to actually understand what's going on in the world around them. It's equally sad that stupid people actually sue big companies over accidents that only emphasize their own stupidity. If you accidentally spill scalding coffee on yourself, or decide to stick your hand in a wood chipper despite warnings not to, or use your hair dryer in the shower despite warnings of electrical shock, I say you ought to be taken to the hospital, then berated for your idiocy, not given money so you can go out and do the same thing again. There's no learning experience here. Imagine if school children could sue teachers for "allowing" them to eat glue or crayons, even if it is entirely the child's decision to do so despite repeated warnings to the contrary. It's ridiculous. People need to learn to suck it up and deal with their stupidity, they need to learn to read (and follow) instructions, and they need to stop sueing large companies over accidents that result from a diminished mental capacity.

April 28
So I realized yesterday evening, as the dog was romping in the park with some doggy buddies, that she's definitely not a retriever. Maybe it's because she's still a puppy. Maybe it's because she's kinda ADD and gets distracted by everything. Or maybe it's because she's a herding dog and therefore was bred to chase things but not actually bring them back. Either way, I was watching the way she played with some amusement.
Most dogs will chase a frisbee or a ball when it's thrown. My dog is no exception. However, once the toy lands -- or nears the ground -- most dogs will snap it up and bring it back, thereby allowing it to be thrown again. My dog is not this bright. She'll chase it, sure. All they way to where it lands. Then she'll sniff it, lick it, paw at it and, once she's sure it's not going to move, comes trotting back as if to say, "Okay, it's not going anywhere. Now what?" If I throw a frisbee for her and another dog, she won't actually chase the toy, she'll chase the dog. She'll race the dog to the toy, make sure he picks it up, then herd him back toward me. And if he's not going fast enough, or straight enough (or whatever it is she thinks he's not doing) she'll nip him in the butt or bounce up and outright body-slam him. Apparently this is more entertaining than actually retrieving a ball. Well, at least it's more entertaining for me. I'm not sure what the other dogs think.

April 26
The sun is shining, the birds are chirping ... and I'm inside. At work. With no windows anywhere near me. And I'm looking at the clock wondering how long it's going to take before I get to go home and enjoy my life. It's really pathetic that we're forced to work through what may be the best days of our lives, only to look back in 40 years, when our bodies are old and can't do anything fun anymore without the aid of Depends and a truss, and realize that we missed out on actually enjoying our youth. I think work should run on the same schedule as schools. Work through the fall, winter and spring, and then take the summer off so that everyone can enjoy the warm weather and long days. There's entirely too much pressure put on people to work 40+ hours a week in order to be deemed successful. Granted, work can be fun. But it's still work. And we're going to work ourselves to death and wonder why everyone is depressed, or chemically imbalanced, or prone to bouts of violence, or stressed to the point of developing ulcers. Abolish work in the summer! Go out and enjoy living life! Regress to a childlike state of blissful ignorance! It'll probably be good for you!

April 25
Stress is a funny thing. Everyone handles it differently. Some take nice, deep breaths and realize that everything will sort itself out. Some take long walks to relax. I am not one of those people. I probably should be, if only for the sake of my raw nerves and developing ulcer. I handle stress by developing a nervous eye tic, getting cranky when people hand things to me THREE DAYS past a deadline and expect me to "fit them in" to a special section that I've already FINISHED, muttering incoherent curses under my breath and generally absorbing any and all stress in the immediate area. Because no matter how well I do my job, if something doesn't get done on time -- whether it's my fault or not -- it automatically becomes my fault. Hi, I'm the scapegoat. Nice to meet you. Somehow, during situations like this, long walks and deep breaths don't really cut it when it comes to diffusing stress. A punching bag and a shotgun, however...now those might work.

April 20
There are probably many things in this world that can drive a person nuts. For me, a moment of insanity can be induced by random capitalization. For some unknown reason, there are people in this world -- normal, English-speaking-since-birth people -- who feel the need to captialize phrases like "good job" or "very important" in the middle of a sentence. And when I read sentences like "We told Amy that it was Very Important that she remember to tell contestants Good Job when they leave the stage," I have the urge to run screaming from the building, find the person who wrote that sentence, and remind them that we are not German and don't indulge in mid-sentence capitalization of phrases. It's just not normal. You can't read that sentence without stuttering over the capitals. There's no need! That's why boldface type, italics, hell even quote marks were invented! Perhaps these people think they're being "cute" or have found a unique way to make something stand out. Or perhaps they need to return to basic English classes for a refresher course on when we do and don't capitalize things.

April 14
With all the restrictions they put on what you can and can't take on board an airplane, I'm surprised they even let people on anymore. Since they've banned lighters (as of today, strangely...), fingernail clippers, nail files, paperclips, staples and anything else that could possibly be used --in a pinch -- to commit some sort of horrible crime, I don't see why people aren't next on the list. Think about it. I mean, fingernail clippers themselves aren't dangerous. Neither are lighters. But in the hands of the criminally-minded, well, you get the idea. Not that I'm condoning any sort of violence on an airplane (although if I did it would definitely be directed toward obnoxious passengers or high-strung flight attendants) but think about it -- how long would it possibly take to kill someone with a pair of fingernail clippers? You can't very easily clip someone to death. Hell, sometimes I can't even clip my fingernails properly and that's what the damn clippers are designed for. And the teensy-weensy little nail file on the clippers is about an inch long, blunt, and almost impossible to use even when just cleaning one's nails. Imagine trying to stab someone with that thing. Honestly. You'd have more luck trying to impale someone with those annoying little plastic spork things they give you to eat with. And what about the blankets? Suitable for hanging, perhaps? What's worse, the flight attendants give you aluminum cans and glass bottles! Anyone who's ever seen a bar fight should know that those can be effective weapons ... maybe not for taking over a plane, but definitely for causing some serious mayhem. I think all passengers should be forced to undergo a psych test before even being allowed to board the plane. And then, once on board, they should be placed in straitjackets and velcroed to a seat. That'd definitely solve some problems.

April 12
The tiny town of Story, Indiana, has conducted a contest over the years that I think more cities should pick up on: naming a "village idiot."
Ever since the advent of political correctness and all the warm-and-fuzzy people who think that any sort of public punishment or humiliation is the most abominable thing in the world, cities have been loath to actually insult people. Hence, the rise in violent crime. As many of us know, empty threats are about as effective as an unloaded gun. The naming of a village idiot, however, would definitely be a step in the right direction. Why, you ask? Well, what better way to convince the feeble- and criminally-minded to cease and desist their idiotic behaviour than by blatantly proclaiming their acts of stupidity to the masses? People, sadly, are sheep. And when the lone sheep realizes that he or she has fallen out of favor with the rest of the herd (through stupid acts such as, say, stapling one's hand to a two-by-four or driving into a ditch while talking on a cell phone, applying makeup and drinking coffee all at the same time) that lone sheep will do one of two things: make amends to fit in with the rest of the herd, or run itself off the edge of a cliff. Either way, it seems to solve the problem. Callous? Probably. But I think it's nigh-on time that we stopped sugar-coating reality. No wonder the latest generation of kids are such petulant, whiny ingrates. Perhaps if we made it clear that the world isn't exactly as happy-go-lucky as it's portrayed on MTV and the WB, then these kids might actually take a stab at succeeding in the world -- rather than just complaining about it.
And then we come to water. Yes, water. While I understand that the federal regs mandate putting nutrition information on everything we eat or drink, is it really necessary to paste a "Nutrition Facts" label on water? Calories? Nope. Sodium? Nope. Cholesterol? Unless there's something really fishy going on, nope. And what's with the serving sizes? A 20-ounce bottle of water contains 2.5 8oz servings. Of nothing. So it's not as though we'll go over our daily calorie count by drinking the whole bottle. And as for the Aquafina claim "Perfect taste" I defy anyone to describe what a perfect abcense of taste tastes like. It tastes like nothing. But how do we know it's a perfect taste of nothingness? Can you compare nothing to nothing? I mean, you can't do it in math or science, but apparently Aquafina can. Must be some sort of great breakthrough.

April 11
I'm a "Desperate Housewives" addict (yes, yes, smutty television -- but so entertaining) and there's been recent press -- like during last night's show -- about some catfighting that went on between a few of the actresses during a Vanity Fair photo shoot. Catfighting over clothing. And attention. And it got me thinking. For the 95 percent of us in this world who aren't ridiculously rich and famous, catfighting like this seems really ridiculous. At what point do you stop being grateful for the opportunities you have? At what point do you become so materialistic, ungrateful and demanding that you begin ripping others to shreds over who gets to wear the "best" thousand-dollar-vintage swimsuit on the cover of a magazine? We should all be so lucky to get an opportunity like that. I know fame can be a powerful thing, but how do you get to a point where you lose all sense of common decency and respect? What does it take for someone to completely lose their sense of what's real? And how can it take only tabloid scrutiny for the rich and famous to realize how petty and ridiculous their complaints really are?
There are certain sounds that you can enjoy waking up to -- birds chirping, someone whispering softly in your ear, the quiet sounds of a good song on the radio.
Being roused out of sleep at 2:30 in the morning by the hiccuping noises of the dog voiding her stomach contents onto the carpet in the hallway just outside your door is definitely NOT a sound I enjoy waking up to. Nor do I enjoy wandering, blearily-eyed, around the bathroom trying to find enough toilet paper to wipe up a salad plate-sized puddle of runny yellow goo. Fortunately, there was no accompanying vomitous stench. However, it was rather hard to go back to sleep when the much-relieved dog felt obliged to wiggle and wag her way enthusiastically around my feet. I also didn't appreciate her valiant efforts to lick my hands and face with her recently vomit-soaked tongue. Thank goodness for dog crates and bedroom doors.

April 5
Some days you wake up, go to work, and just KNOW, all day, that you should have stayed in bed. It's raining, cold, and you're stuck behind drivers that for some perverse reason choose to drive 15 miles per hour beneath the speed limit. And then at work the hours seem to drag by at an impossibly slow speed making you wonder whether the rotation of the earth has actually slowed down -- but since you're in the back of an office with about 10 walls between you and a window, you'd never know. And no matter how you sit in your desk chair (backwards, sideways, upside down or with your feet up on your army-green World War two-era desk) your back won't stop hurting. And the pictures on your wall refuse to stay there, even after several applications of scotch tape and mild obscenities. And what's worse, the end of your day depends solely on when someone else gets his lazy ass in gear to get you the work that you have to proofread before you can leave -- and he's already an hour late. Mix me a drink and book me a flight to Cabo. Please.

April 4:
So here's a delicious bit of irony: the Irish are betting on who will be the next pope. Literally. They have odds and everything. Apparently the top two contenders, both of whom have 11-4 odds, are from Italy and Nigeria. Also an interesting combination. Some guy bet $1,300 on it! Last time I checked, there was definitely a passage in the bible that frowned upon gambling. I'm guessing that gambing on who will be the next pope is pretty much an express ticket to Hell. Not that I'm religously minded, but honestly, people. The only thing I could think of that would be worse would be betting on when the next pope will die. People definitely need more constructive outlets for those moments of boredom. I can't imagine what would drive someone to think "Hey, let's bet on who's going to be the next pope!" ...although I can hazard a guess. Guinness. "Brilliant!" Okay, maybe not.
And speaking of dying. As much as I understand respecting and honoring the passing of a world leader and religous figure, DEAR GOD. Could the media possibly spend any more time obcessing over the intimate details of the pope's funeral, et al? "Continuous coverage of the pope's death." News flash, people. He's already dead. As in past-tense. As in, he's not currently in the throes of dying and we don't need up-to-the-minute details on how it's proceeding. There must be more relevant news happening somewhere. Fires, shootings, corrupt politicians -- the stuff we're used to. The media really has a field day when it comes to covering the death of famous people. I think at this point they may be crossing the line from honoring the dead to cheapening the whole ritual. Really, a week straight of documentaries, memorials, photo montages, video montages, live feed of some Catholic person weeping in the Vatican City -- it's a bit much. Honor and respect is one thing. Spectacle and media ratings are entirely another. Just let it go, people. Let it go.
Holy cow, it's getting worse. I give you the Seattle Times headline "Pope on display in St. Peter's Basilica." Seriously. Someone else has got to see the humour here. What is he, a travelling art exhibit? A Monet can go on display. A Van Gogh can be put on display. Hell, a Rodin sculpture can be put on display. But the POPE? Are you kidding me?? Did they frame him and stick him on the wall? How in hell (pardon the ironic religious undertones) do you put a person on display? As a person myself, I honestly can't remember a time when I've been "on display." I know I've made an idiotic display of myself in public, and I know I've displayed emotion in public, but I've never displayed myself. And I highly doubt I ever will. I mean, unless someone sculpts me and displays me in public (which is also highly unlikely). Something about a person being "on display" (and the corresponding visual image) is just so completely wrong that it's funny. "Pope placed at St. Peter's Basilica for viewing" would be SO much better...still accurate and wouldn't evoke the feeling amongst people that the Pope is being treated like a damn museum exhibit.

April 2:
This whole daylight savings time thing is a gigantic pain in the ass. Now I gotta go find all the clocks in my house and set them ahead an hour. And then I'll probably forget to set the clock in my car ahead and I'll be early to work. Or late. Or however this damn thing works. I still don't understand why we need daylight savings time during a season when it's light more than 12 hours a day. Maybe if the daylight savings kicked in around, say, October, when it's dark for about 18 hours a day, I'd be happier. Meanwhile, the cable companies must be completely cracked out by the whole time change because the listings have been so jacked up all day that it's nearly impossible to figure out what's on when. Half the channels are right, half the channels are an hour ahead of themselves. And they switch, randomly, throughout the day. I say it's more proof that Comcast really is the antichrist, but that might be going a bit far. Nah. Maybe not.

April 1:
Blogging is under construction. Hopefully not for long. As soon as I finish having my social life for the evening, I'm sure I'll have something caustically witty to say.
Yup. April 1 was definitely the best day to start a site. Perhaps if I had some vague clue what I was doing when setting up a site amidst all the technical mumbo-jumbo, that might help. Oh well. At least I recognize my weaknesses.