Life Is Hard. Hooray Life.

One of the cool things about my old apartment was that it allegedly abutted the residence of the Lawrence Arms. I never actually saw anyone from the band in the neighborhood but I figure we ran in different social circles so the internet probably wasn't lying to me. However, not even that bit of celebrity could convince me to stay in that place for another year. Anyway.

On Sunday night/Monday morning as I was leaving the radio station I happened across a field of tiny American flags. The sort we used to tack to our bikes for the Fourth of July parade as children. I thought this odd so I doubled back to check out the sign which explained that each flag represented an aborted fetus. I could not roll my eyes hard enough at the ridiculousness. And I probably wouldn't waste the time drawing attention to this supposed social commentary were it not for the conversation Sarah-Sarah and I had the following afternoon wherein we have decided to re-frame the pro-choice/anti-choice discussion.

Let's face it, things get pretty heated on both sides of the fence. So we have decided, in typical fashion, that we are going to stop using the word "abortion." Because, really, it's much more positive (and we really ought to maintain a positive outlook even in the bleakest of times) to henceforth refer to said medical procedure as a LIBORTION.

Instead of saying you terminated your pregnancy or murdered your unborn child, isn't it so much nicer sounding to say the fetus was LIBERATED? I think it is.

Libortion: the new term for abortion. What do fetuses want? FREEDOM! When do they want it? DURING THE GESTATION PERIOD! (from Sarah-Sarah's twitter)

Anyway, so I was back at the radio station this evening for a meeting. And because I am horrible at timing transit routes, I was a wee bit (half an hour) early. And because it was so nice out, I decided to hang out on the steps which meant staring directly into the mass of flags. Fortunately the sign had blown over so their purpose was unclear. (It also appeared as though some of the flags had been liberated-awesome!) And then the true scope of the situation's humor struck me.

"Abortions for some, tiny American flags for others!" (-the Simpsons. Although I first encountered this decree via a Lawrence Arms' song, hence the anecdote at the beginning of this post.)

Regardless of whether the flags had been chose as a nod to the Simpsons/Lawrence Arms or not it pretty much made my day. Life is just awesome like that sometimes.

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In unrelated news, I saw Bishop Allen last night thanks to Ms. Jodi and scored a bookshelf off the Sportz Night neighbors who have fled their lease like thieves in the night. Things are looking up.

p.s. Don't fear, Sarah-Sarah and I plan to continue the Sportz Night tradition by putting the George Foreman on the porch and throwing bean bags at the wall. It's for the greater good and a fitting tribute, I think.

I want to be let back in the house.

"Well, should I get married, should I be good, should I astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and my faustushood and not take her to movies but to cemeteries and tell her stories of werewolf tongues and four clarinets..."-Troy (Reality Bites)

I'm not entirely convinced I would be the protagonist in the movie of my life. I don't know. That sounds weird but I think I've always sort of seen myself as more of a sidekick. But if my life were a movie not entirely of my choosing it might most closely resemble Reality Bites (however, were I to pick, I'd opt to star in The Science of Sleep, for the record).

This is telling both of my admittedly terrible, terrible taste in movies and of my clearly self-involved bullshit angst. I'd request you not judge me but let's be realistic.

I just feel like I'm at the point in the reel where Lelaina is hanging out on her couch all day (only in my case "all day" translates into "for years"). Not insomuch as I'm feeling all woe-is-me sorry for myself (because I'm not, really) but this is not where I thought I'd be. (And please don't quote the whole "life is what happens when you're busy making plans," because I KNOW, I know.)

And I'm usually pretty okay with just sitting back and enjoying the ride but sometimes I hit that "what the hell am I even doing?!" road bump of a quarterlife crisis and I don't have someone like Ethan Hawke around to spout pseudo-intellectual cliches like "the only thing you need to be by the age of 23 (or 25) is yourself" and remind me that the only things I need are "a cup of coffee, and a little bit of conversation...You and me and five bucks."

Which is not to say that I want someone to come along and save me. I don't. That is very much not what I am looking for. I never really wanted to be the princess as a child even though I had the dress (it was a super cute Halloween costume one year). I wanted to be Atalanta. Don't Google it. My understanding of her at the time was based on the "Free to Be, You and Me" book/tape. And basically the only relevant part is that she was pretty clever. So when her father held a race with the thought of marrying her off to the winner, she entered and then spent that afternoon hanging out with the only guy who matched her pace. Afterward they both took off separately to explore the world. Also, she got to ride a horse and I was pretty keen on that as a kid.

I think I'm mixing my metaphors. Certainly I'm digressing.

I get that we're all supposed to identify with Lelaina. She's the protagonist, after all. She's like the character of Mark from Rent. Maybe the challenge is also being Troy at the same time. Maybe we're supposed to be sort of assholes to ourselves and push our own buttons and fail a bit and then turn around and be awkwardly, hesitantly gallant to ourselves when we really fuck up and get lost. Ok, I don't know, the argument all sort of breaks apart when Lelaina and Troy hook up. Or maybe that part demonstrates how sometimes we inevitably but unintentionally fuck ourselves over and it's okay to forgive it when it happens. Or maybe it doesn't. I like to read too far into things. I'm kind of tired and this probably makes no sense except in my own head where sometimes buildings look like robots and the made up stories are the most telling truths.

I guess I'm just trying to say I'm sorry if I've been a little bit "blargh" recently. I'll get over it. I'll figure it out or it'll figure itself out and either way I'll laugh at my own ridiculousness very soon. Rinse and repeat.

"What happened is that um, I kinda got this arcane glimpse of the universe and the best thing I can say about that is... I don't know."-Troy (Reality Bites)

Maybe let us never speak of this entry again.

Holy terribleness, Batman!

Guess what I have in my bedroom right now.

It's a bat!



This is not the sort of nighttime visitor I would want, given the option. I'm just saying.

Mostly because this is a massive fucking inconvenience.

Seriously.

So a few nights ago I got up for a drink of water and noticed something swooping around in the dark apartment. But it was late, my vision was blurry and so I hoped I was freaking myself out given no evidence of a bat in the morning light. This seemed logical at the time because immediately after thinking "there's a bat in our apartment" I thought "it's probably a vampire."

All was forgotten until it came flopping out of my closet around 10:00 pm.

In case you were wondering, bats are not cute.

Thank goodness for roommates who can keep their head. Because, seriously, I never learned how to handle a bat invasion while growing up. So Sarah-Sarah called Animal Control who directed her to the city who promised to call the CDC for us. The CDC did not show up. So eventually we called back. Turns out the CDC is not coming out until tomorrow.

WHAT THE FUCK?
There is a BAT trapped in my room.
BATS are RESERVOIRS for DISEASE.

True story.

Couldn't they have at least called back to let us know we were on our own until morning (any time from 7am-9:30pm). Worse, both Sarah-Sarah and I have to work. And if the CDC shows up and we're not here, they will close our request ticket. Grr.

So now the bat is hypothetically trapped in my room. My cat is sequestered in the kitchen. And I am on the sofa for the night.

Except when I crept back into my room to get a few essentials there was no bat to be seen.

What happened to your politics?

"No man, it's like, it's just...I got kind of...distracted."





Ok, so the robot thing. Right? I think I promised that. I hear the most ridiculous comments at work and I'm beginning to hate the elderly. However, I really really hate people who bitch about being transferred to India for tech support or whatever. Sometimes they're totally apologetic about it which makes it worse and not any more acceptable. Sometimes the rep joins in and I just want to hit them. What the fuck? And some customers who apparently have no filter between their brain an their mouth (or just have no soul) start complaining about foreigners who "steal" American jobs.

Excuse me? Did you really just say that? Really really?! I think like 97% of people who bitch about this sort of thing to the operator wouldn't take whatever job they supposedly lost out on even if they were paid to do it (which, you know, they would have been). I'm just saying, mr. bitchy customer, if you want to sit on the phone for nine hours a day at $12/hr for a company you purportedly hate then, y'know, AT&T is probably hiring somewhere. Have at it. And then you can put up with the assholes like you used to be (because seriously, I don't think that after listening to customers' insanity for even just a day customer service reps ever give anyone lip on the phone again).

But all of this pales in comparison to what I learned the other day. AT&T (and so probably a lot of other companies) employ ROBOTS to process their mail.

Huh?

No, really, I asked my boss and he confirmed it. So when you send a check to your phone company to keep your service from getting shut off, a ROBOT is judging your handwriting and laughing at you for misspelling forty dollars and eighty nine cents.

Furthermore, nobody ever complains about ROBOTS stealing their jobs. But clearly, CLEARLY this is a major problem! So instead of building a wall between the US and Mexico which everyone knows is pointless anyway, we should be building a wall to keep the ROBOTS out. Because I've seen enough movies to know that shit never ends well.

I am completely serious about this.

ROBOTS.

At the Bottom of Everything

This week owned me, it kicked my ass in every imaginable way. It was very sad for all involved. And now it's over. So maybe karma can cut me a break?

How did my week suck? Let me count the ways:
1. Work. My cube assignment was moved into uncharted territory, far from the people who have made Monday through Friday bearable. It takes me about three months to fully warm up to new people and I only have two months left. I imagine that everyone around me thinks I'm weird which is unfair because I am clearly the normal one. Also the keyboard was filthy! I felt like Monk cleaning it out. Gross.

2. Arienette. Some jackass-douchebag-motherfucker stole my bike's back wheel. What the fuck?! Really?! What the hell are you going to do with a tire? I've been imagining revenge scenarios since Wednesday. I am not a forgiving person. Especially considering that it's going to cost me around $130 to replace the damned thing. That's twice what I originally paid for the thing! Not cool. Part of the issue is keeping it as a fixed gear/non-coasting bike.

Side note: I know this is probably a ridiculous thing to do. Culturally, I mean. But like the author of Stuff White People Like, I can't seem to help myself. It's kind of like driving a stick shift car, more control and more fun. And since I'd pay later to change it back, I might as well get it done right the first time. Provided the shop I took it to can figure out the logistics. I sort of suspect it's a drug front.

3. Fortunately I found a reduced price Saturday ticket to Lollapalooza. I didn't really plan to go at all this year since $80/day seems steep to pay for an event. (I understand the arguments of dividing per band you see, etc but it's still $80 down). Also I don't really like festivals since I end up hot and gross feeling, dislike portapotties and get sunburned just thinking about no cloud coverage. However, it's my birthday weekend and I have a boatload of SPF 50 leftover from Pitchfork.

The urge to see CSS, creative budgeting and the desire to have a Friday off work tempted me to get a Friday ticket as well. Even after the bike incident of '08 I thought I could maybe swing the entrance fee. Of course, I made my final decision at 2:30 am Friday after going out Thursday night. By which time tickets were sold out. I blame Radiohead.

4. All the little things you don't think about that go wrong on an every day basis but suddenly develop significance when larger things fuck up. Examples: missing the bus, losing newly purchased items, late payment charges, sudden shift to genuinely hot/humid summer weather that I dislike, etc.

5. Deleted for personal reasons.

6. Missing the vast majority of Shark Week because I didn't realize it was happening. Fortunately we have On Demand and I caught parts of the Top 10 Deadliest Sharks, How to Not Get Bit, Dirty Jobs: Greenland something Shark.


*The (Liz) Lemon Shark-My New Favorite

I feel like there was something else but I forget. I know this is all very whiny. IDC.

Today ought to be better. Devotchka, Okkervil River, Wilco and Mason Jennings for sure. Probably some other stuff. We'll just have to wait and see.

Indeed!

P.S. I have been listening to the new Black Kids album all week and wish to amend any prior statements I may have made. It is awesome! Especially the song Love Me Already. I really like how the music mirrors the lyrics. Also the new Conor Oberst song Danny Callahan is also fun and awesome.

In Your Phone, Listening to Your Conversations

I know there are a million "Overheard in..." sites but whatever. Funny things I heard people say recently when they thought only the customer service agent could hear them. (Most are "that's what she said" statements because I have the mentality of a 12 year old and watch the Office too much)

1. "Does my mom need it? Ok, I'll give it to her."
2. "I like to be high. It's a pleasant surprise for my customers."
3. "Thank you for sharing your children with me. I always enjoy that."

-all heard on 6/10/08

It Would Be OK

I am aware that growing up in small-town Wisconsin gave me some unrealistic expectations. Going to college in Madison probably did not help as I still find myself stunned at the things I've heard my co-workers say in complete seriousness.

A sampling for your enjoyment (paraphrased):

1. "If we had a woman president, other countries would not respect us and they would attack the US."

2. "If a woman wears that out in public, she is asking to be raped." (Female co-worker commenting on a rather modest bikini in a Victoria Secret catalog).

3. "I don't understand why someone would live a good life and then at 80 decide that they're going to get married to someone of the same sex and therefore condemn themselves to hell." "Imagine the honeymoon-cobweb city!" (and then she hung up a picture of the couple in her cube-as a reminder to be a good Christian or something).

4. "Ms. is ONLY an appropriate title for divorced women."



WTF?