tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153754762024-03-04T20:55:59.504-08:00eso es satanico.As a kid, my father told me that constantly. "Eso es Satanico" referred to Ninja Turtles, Smurfs, Garbage Pail Kids, and even Madballs. I tried to convince him that Scooby Doo wasn't 'satanico' because the monsters were actually angry old men who ran county fairs and not at all related to the devil or he-who-must-not-be-named.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-46908096655064177752010-11-22T13:12:00.001-08:002010-11-22T13:12:34.969-08:00<a href="http://esoessatanico.wordpress.com/">here now.</a>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-15021127123431795922010-06-07T10:25:00.001-07:002010-06-07T10:25:28.220-07:00I have just applied for a job in Victoria, BC. Yes, in Canada.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-25284756050075894922010-05-19T18:36:00.000-07:002010-05-19T18:42:49.296-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHHdwvR0dp5x6XsqVK2p_kXaxz3QpIj3bWzHCsT3Zzgjgu_GyUxekPrnyxYVKpMoGip18tzP4xgzMjgo1-_3oOfhqREKrLSKKBwv6Lp2funYkXXg_Bt9HYnqUU2YnhjXS29ak/s1600/IMG00966-20100513-2217.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHHdwvR0dp5x6XsqVK2p_kXaxz3QpIj3bWzHCsT3Zzgjgu_GyUxekPrnyxYVKpMoGip18tzP4xgzMjgo1-_3oOfhqREKrLSKKBwv6Lp2funYkXXg_Bt9HYnqUU2YnhjXS29ak/s400/IMG00966-20100513-2217.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div>The <strong>Coalesce</strong> show has come and gone. It was last week. <br />
Things that meant the most to me about the show:<br />
<ul><li style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Meeting and hanging out with Mr. Brady McGarry, who also writes and occasionally edits my writing for <a href="http://www.seattleshowgal.com/">SSG</a>.</li>
<li style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Having a couple of dudes in Coalesce recognize/hug me from the bunch of times that I've traveled to see them.</li>
</ul><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">That about covers it. Coalesce were great and so were <strong>Converge</strong> (who were better) but I hung out at the side of the stage and just watched from there, where the sound wasn't quite as good. Part of me just felt... old. I still beat my chest and air-guitarred but I feel like some of the magic of these shows, especially the incredibly packed sold-out ones, is lost on me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.anticon.com/pr/dosh_kmeron_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://www.anticon.com/pr/dosh_kmeron_1.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I had a better time watching <strong>Dosh</strong> at a far smaller club from a far shorter distance just earlier last week. He and his buddy Mike Lewis put on a hell of a show. They looped, synthed, made crazy sounds with their instruments and bantered with each other and the audience, which maybe amounted to about 80 people. Everyone should at least check out Dosh's myspace page to see what that dude is doing. I've seen him be <strong>Andrew Bird's</strong> entire backing band at least twice. The guy is a genius and his new record, <em>Tommy</em>, is great. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>I'm surprised that this is the case but the Dosh show is more likely to wind up on my top five shows of 2010 than the Coalesce one.<br />
<br />
Tonight I'll be seeing <a href="http://www.refugeeallstars.org/">Sierra Leone's Refugee All Stars</a>. I expect it to rule.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-34128406766459018922010-05-04T15:57:00.000-07:002010-05-04T15:57:51.910-07:00Next week Coalesce will be playing at Neumos with Converge.<br />
Say what you will about their post-Give them Rope material.<br />
<br />
This is all that matters.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhER7NN8_uNwP4ev8DD1iZMNieYaRXmcAD7gVD_WocsiUMxu2V4dzGhCGHtXBV5IFV0j5oEF3iBlAvlE-q9IEqmbwqsp7lZ1blCEsNjK1sULdEuLr5FteHOqyuHISZmQk2DKu3-/s1600/coalesce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhER7NN8_uNwP4ev8DD1iZMNieYaRXmcAD7gVD_WocsiUMxu2V4dzGhCGHtXBV5IFV0j5oEF3iBlAvlE-q9IEqmbwqsp7lZ1blCEsNjK1sULdEuLr5FteHOqyuHISZmQk2DKu3-/s400/coalesce.jpg" tt="true" width="400" /></a></div>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-33813900201080565442010-05-03T17:35:00.000-07:002010-05-03T17:35:51.827-07:00My coughing situation is getting better. I went to the Doctor and was given a prescription for a Z-Pack. A Z-Pack is a pretty heavy duty anti-biotic and last time I had to take it it was for mono in my early 20s. It destroyed me and had me in the bathroom a lot. <br />
<br />
This time, though, Beth suggested that I pop some pro-biotics at the same time to help with my stomach and really, they have. I'm still coughing, but the anti-biotics are done and supposedly they work for a whole seven days after they're all gone. That sounds kind of arbitrary to me but hopefully it'll translate to my being cough-free very soon. <br />
<br />
Now I'm supposed to go to the gym for the first time in a couple of weeks. ugh.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-9953700561655233632010-04-23T18:54:00.000-07:002010-04-23T18:55:08.498-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPnkNUH-dU5cA8vxOGluzCoQ3iwREzG28GdH3tji29Tu6jEYmcqCWAzJy2Q0g9lBcISdvnUeKow1yFZftMqh74zX9bN2iR6OovBuqGRCcsa4rVEMUMDoy9Ssc2N-qWn4ktClj/s1600/TheArchitect31_rob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPnkNUH-dU5cA8vxOGluzCoQ3iwREzG28GdH3tji29Tu6jEYmcqCWAzJy2Q0g9lBcISdvnUeKow1yFZftMqh74zX9bN2iR6OovBuqGRCcsa4rVEMUMDoy9Ssc2N-qWn4ktClj/s200/TheArchitect31_rob.jpg" tt="true" width="200" /></a></div>It's the second time I listen to Rob Swift's new one, The Architect. I was a big fan of parts of Sound Event. There enough emcees I didnt' necessarily like littered through the album, but the instrumental tracks were flawless. They made me bob my head and kind of made me want to dance, which is rare, given my inability to do so. <br />
<br />
The Architect is his new one, and it's on Ipecac Recordings. I'm not surprised to see this-- Mike Patton has collaborated with the X-Ecutioners in the past. <br />
<br />
(I should say at this point that I just checked Wikipedia and Rob Swift has released a number of albums between Sound Event and The Architect. I've been completely out of touch.)<br />
<br />
The Architect is a <strong>very </strong>different record form Sound Event-- the scratching is there and he still sounds amazing but there's a lot of slow beats here. The music is a lot less funky and frankly, darker. I guess that's a little bit of the Ipecac influence showing. As far as I can tell so far, this record rules. Rob Swift is using a lot of classical soundtrack-y kind of music here layered over the beats and it 80's big budget horror movies to mind. I suggest everyone check it out, especially fans of scratching/turntablism.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-38659066294932605982010-04-23T18:33:00.000-07:002010-04-24T14:35:35.610-07:00How am I sick again? <br />
I was sick in January, I think. Maybe early February. I got a nasty cold after spending an evening on a bus. Beth and I had gone to Vancouver to see the Great Lake Swimmers for the third time (fifth time for her- she saw them once before we met and I bought her and a friend tickets to go see them in Victoria the night before our trip), and on the way back to the States, the Clipper broke down. For those who don't live here The Victoria Clipper is the only ferry that goes directly between Seattle and Victoria. It's the expensive way to travel back and forth, but it's faster than driving to Port Angeles in my little car and then taking the Coho Ferry, which is the other affordable way to make the trip. Anyway, on the way back after our Vancouver trip, the Clipper broke down. They put us on buses and sent us back through Vancouver and then south through the border. <br />
<br />
At the border there was a a couple in which one of them was Danish. I guess she didn't have her papers together because those border patrol freaks decided to hold the bus for about 40 minutes. After the couple got their shit straightened out and got back on the bus, we got a flat tire. <br />
<br />
Basically, I got back to Seattle at about 2am with a nasty cold. <br />
<br />
And now I have something that may be bronchitis. It isn't a cold but my throat is all scratchy and I can't stop coughing. The thing, the real heartbreaker, the worrisome part, is that I'm <b>not supposed to get sick this often</b>. Since I left Miami two years ago I've been sick three or four times. Back in Miami I got sick <b>fucking constantly</b>. My friends noticed and always said "you're always getting sick" as if that helps anyone in any way. <br />
<br />
Since moving to Seattle I've exercised more days than not and I spend a lot of time outside. I'm not supposed to get sick this easily. My coworker came in with his stupid bronchitis and <b>I'm</b> the only one who got sick. <br />
<br />
What am I missing here?gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-74317173600032524102010-01-14T23:13:00.000-08:002010-01-14T23:20:54.016-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQzbVvpv1hSg-rEnQTlT9dojA0poA49bMsX7gED92-wCz666sCahqfdG2AtMc_mM5MGPyp1Gs7J3p5Z2fzXrrde6B4h5ETWJ5cebZpC862Cdx_pwmPinFFjt87OGnl0pyXnz6/s1600-h/IMG00466-20100114-2222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQzbVvpv1hSg-rEnQTlT9dojA0poA49bMsX7gED92-wCz666sCahqfdG2AtMc_mM5MGPyp1Gs7J3p5Z2fzXrrde6B4h5ETWJ5cebZpC862Cdx_pwmPinFFjt87OGnl0pyXnz6/s320/IMG00466-20100114-2222.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Jordan Crane is a master of making me emotional.<br />
I just read <i>The Last Lonely Saturday</i>. I gave this little book to Beth for Christmas because last year I gave her another Crane book and she spent a good bit of Christmas morning smiling, reading, and ignoring the rest of us. She looked so happy. <br />
<br />
This year I put <i>The Last Lonely Saturday</i> in her stocking and she looked at it and was excited to see it, but decided not to read it right then. I was surprised that she didn't push out the rest of the world to read her new Crane book this time, but I'm glad she didn't. She read it that night, I think, after I'd fallen asleep. The next day she warned me that it was a pretty devastating read. I figured as much, because the front cover made me think of the movie <i>Up!</i><br />
<br />
This book <i>is</i> devastating. There's almost no dialogue, and each page contains only two pictures. There aren't many pages, either. The entire book took maybe five minutes to read. Five minutes to bore itself into my chest and destroy what is in there. But then it was kind of happy, too. No way to explain it without spoiling it. I recommend it, though, to anyone looking for an emotionally resonant comic book experience.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-27506263638543079932010-01-12T21:33:00.003-08:002010-01-13T10:30:06.530-08:00<a href="http://premierepoetsociety.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/blu_exile_cover.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://premierepoetsociety.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/blu_exile_cover.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 240px; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">When the going gets rough, take a spinning class.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">That's what I did today. I felt </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;">bad</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> all day. A mixture of an awareness of my weight, my job, and the speed at which time is passing me by--this is what defined my day at work today. I listened to an entire episode </span><a href="http://www.wfmu.org/playlists/BS" style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;">the Best Show on WFMU</a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> and smiled, even giggled a little, but nothing changed. Beth and I emailed some and really, that's the best part of my day. My mood and state of gloom, however, stayed put. I refused any conversations at work today, sticking to my headphones and podcasts.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Enter the gym. I went right after work. I finished to an episode of the </span><a href="http://www.slate.com/id/2187916/landing/1" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Slate Culture Gabfest</span></a> that I had started listening to at work and switched to something more workout-able: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Below_the_Heavens" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Blu and Exile</span> - Below the Heavens.</a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> A hell of an album. Really- I can't believe how good these guys are. The rhymes and production on it are so impressive. I took in the music and </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I had a decent workout.</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> I thought a lot about whether or not I would hit the <a href="http://easystreetonline.com/locations">music store</a> after the gym, and what I would buy if I did. I did a chest work out that left me sore (I went easy on the weight, though. I hadn't really done more than one chest workout in the last month.) and I walked/ran a couple of miles on the treadmill but I still felt the weight of that funk on my shoulders. I wanted to learn to dance, get a new job, build a house, write a novel, save a life, and finish school. I felt like I needed an injection of pride. Then I noticed a spinning class was starting. I noticed that a girl who I'd seen working out earlier was the teacher. I thought about her and the fact that she'd worked out but still was going to teach an hour-long spinning class. I wandered in and sat down on a bike. These are more streamlined versions of the stationary bikes one usually sees at gyms-- thinner and smaller. Nothing electronic about it. No dials, counters, etc. I sat down nervously waiting and doing what other people were doing-- spinning their wheels and stretching. Some girl walked in and asked me if I had removed a towel she'd placed on the bike. I guess she was saving her place on that bike. But there wasn't any towel there when I came in and I told her so. I was immovable. It was hard enough just walking into that room and getting on that bike. I wasn't leaving because some girl wanted to save her spot.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The music started, and the instructor, who had a bike in front of everyone else in the class, spoke through a headset microphone. She drove us hard and seemed nothing short of merciless to me, but she didn't give me shit when I slowed down and I </span><b style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">really</b><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> appreciate that. I could barely keep up with the class. I spent the entire hour moving, but a lot of the time when the rest of the class was doing stand up pedaling, I just fell onto the bike. This thing was hard to do. My hands were slipping off the handles from all the sweat and my shirt was so wet that it became a part of me. I kept looking at the clock and wondering when it would end. I wondered what the hell I was doing there, in a spinning class. I didn't belong there, I'm too damn fat. Everyone's always talked about how hard a spinning class is. My ass hurt bad from the stupid seat. I thought about all the pain I would be in tomorrow and I felt embarrassed every time the instructor looked my way and I wasn't standing on the bike pedals the way the rest of the class was. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I didn't stop pedaling, though. And I didn't walk out. And that feels good.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I may even do it again.</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.soulbounce.com/soul/2008/02/07/blu_bubbles.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.soulbounce.com/soul/2008/02/07/blu_bubbles.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 240px; width: 240px;" /></a>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-72096344292837259812010-01-10T22:44:00.008-08:002010-01-11T23:55:03.721-08:00I haven't finished a book in months. I don't know if its depression or a parasite or the winter (I doubt its a parasite. Too gross.) or what, but I haven't finished anything in a while.<br /><br />Including movies. I've been to the movies, and that pretty much guarantees that I'll finish them, but I haven't watched anything at home, by myself, in a while. Only one movie, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Sin Nombre</span>, a Mexi-Salvadoran thriller about immigrants and murderous gangsters who hop trains to get into the states, have I been able to get through. Sin Nombre is a movie I totally recommend, by the way. A little generic--you know where its going for the entire film-- but it still managed to enthrall me with the violence, setting and characters.<br />3.5 stars, if Netflix had a .5 setting.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogs.nyu.edu/fas/clacs/Sin_Nombre.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 405px;" src="http://blogs.nyu.edu/fas/clacs/Sin_Nombre.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />I also have only been to the gym a couple of times since late in November. Its been rough. I've thrown caution to the wind and eaten everything in sight. I've put on some weight.<br /><br />Still, I did read one thing. It may not be a proper prose book but <span style="font-weight: bold;">IRON MAN: Demon in a Bottle</span> is the one graphic novel I've read in the last couple of months. I liked it, too. It was so much a product of its time in ways that I hadn't really noticed in my years of reading comics. It is rife with thought bubbles and commentary from bystanders. It even has an origin retelling so that new readers wouldn't be lost. They used to do that every few months and I always thought it was kind of neat that they did that. Everytime Iron Man did anything, someone in the background would offer something up like "Dickie! Come quick! Thar's a man in red-an'-gold armor just crashed in ahr back yard!" or after Iron Man flies away from an aircraft carrier, two of the sailors onboard have this exchange: "Hey Cookie! Y'all evuh see anything lahk that back in Omaha?" "You kiddin', Beau? A flyin' man in shinin' armor? Shoot, we don't even see stuff like that after tokin' corn silk!"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://goodcomics.comicbookresources.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/ironmaniconic1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 405px;" src="http://goodcomics.comicbookresources.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/ironmaniconic1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Clearly the writers and editors at Marvel of the late seventies thought the world was just crawling with hicks. Iron Man: Demon in a Bottle also deals with Tony Stark's alcoholism head on. Tony's a millionaire playboy with a big mustache and Burt Reynolds good looks who loves his scotch and his brandy, and his wine. Demon in a Bottle collects eight issues or Iron Man from 1978-79 (at least one of them was released while I was being conceived) and at least once in every issue someone notes the alcohol in Tony's breath or says "well, uh, you have had three already, sir. Are you sure--?" While Tony thinks things like "well, I am drinking for two men..." Himself and Iron Man, get it?! The whole book is a great if not a little-too-campy look into old style comic-booking. I don't know what 'age' its supposed to be (possibly silver age?) but I never paid too much attention to that stuff. There are other adventures and ridiculous villains along the way, but the underlying theme is that the world coming down around Tony and he hits the hard stuff to deal with it sometimes.<br /><br />I'm just glad I read it and that Tony Stark got some help. The lush.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img190.imageshack.us/img190/2481/ironmandrinking.jpg"> <img style="cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 407px;" src="http://img190.imageshack.us/img190/2481/ironmandrinking.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-24761978189708556542009-12-17T14:23:00.008-08:002009-12-18T10:07:37.993-08:00I didn't care for this year much at all.<br />The summer was nice, I guess.<br /><br />My favorite memory of this year involves watching <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093748/">Planes, Trains, and Automobiles</a> with Beth. The "going the wrong way" scene in that movie had us laughing so hard that I almost peed. My stomach hurt afterward. Had I been watching that movie on my own, I maybe would have rewound the scene once. She had me rewind it... maybe ten, fifteen times? I thought we would never stop laughing. Even the obviously tacked-on heart-felt part at the end worked. She probably cried (she cries).<br /><br />We were in the basement of the house I'm living in. My roommate, the owner of the house, has outfitted it with a TV and DVD player and an aquarium and a couch. My roommate is an apallingly inconsiderate person. Loud, grunting, rapping along to whatever bullshit Kanye song is playing at the time. It boggles the mind. We were in the basement of the house he so clearly owns and... he and I aren't friends. We say hello, we're friendly, and that's it. So being there, in that basement is a reprieve but it also feels as though we're stepping on someone's toes. And I'm always aware of that. <br /><br />But when we grabbed dinner and beers and watched that movie down there--one of my favorite evenings of the last year--we forgot about all that and everything else.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.digitalsignage.com/digitalsignage/blog-dscom/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/planes-trains-and-automobiles.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 393px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 257px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.digitalsignage.com/digitalsignage/blog-dscom/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/planes-trains-and-automobiles.jpg" /></a>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-72741816073547230132009-11-20T10:46:00.003-08:002009-11-20T10:55:47.110-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://guerrillaphilosophy.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/godsaysno.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 376px;" src="http://guerrillaphilosophy.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/godsaysno.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />GOD SAYS NO <span style="font-weight: bold;">by James Hannaham<br /><br /></span></span>I wound up liking this so much more than I expected to. I mean, look at that cover. It's brutal. It was weird to receive it from McSweeney's, a company whose aesthetics I'm usually in love with. They've never put out anything ugly. Everytime I recieve a package in the mail from them it's exciting, and not always because of the writing contained within. <span style="font-weight: bold;">I openly judge these books by their covers</span>. Just not enough to avoid reading them. They are paid for, after all.<br /><br />I kind of hated it for the first two hundred or so pages. Then I realized that my response to the book shouldn't necessarily be based on my reaction the the main character, Gary Gray, a Christian who struggles with "SSAs" (same sex attractions). He's an innocent dude in denial about his sexuality, and sometimes the mix of that and his religion make him into kind of an asshole. It's a tough read sometimes, especially when his wife is trying to get him into bed with her and he responds agressively, as if he were in an argument.<br /><br />Hannaham, who doesn't strike me as the most compassionate author (he thinks his book is a lot funnier than it actually is), really gets into this guy's head. The book is written in the first person and a lot of it is what runs through the guy's mind. Struggles, hopes, faith, and all. He really did an impressive job.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-70556021786675996682009-11-13T10:32:00.002-08:002009-11-13T10:56:28.186-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/brainiac/10_vonnegut.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 417px;" src="http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/brainiac/10_vonnegut.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Cat's Cradle</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> is the best book my little book club has read so far, and I chose it. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">So I rule. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I wrote a brief review of this book for another website, but it has bugs that won't allow me to access it anymore. So I'll do it here. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">This is my second Vonnegut novel-length experience. The first one was </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Breakfast of Champions. Cat's Cradle </span><span style="font-family: arial;">is some high concept stuff about the end of the world and all the ridiculous circumstances that bring it about. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I've said this before, I know. I don't read the backs of books so I'm not gonna talk about the book too much here. I hate spoilage and </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">I'll have no part in it! </span><span style="font-family: arial;">I'll just say that it really, really was a solid read full of satire and dark humor. It is equal parts terrifying and hilarious, and I wish everyone would read it. I feel as though everything Vonnegut was trying to do here was accomplished. All the funny, all the dark, etc. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Dictators are frightening. Religion, terrifying. And a good time was had by all.</span></span>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-13282081734665221412009-09-02T15:53:00.002-07:002009-09-02T16:01:51.158-07:00<span style="font-size:180%;">The Setting: Victoria, BC Fairway Grocery Store</span><br />A CREEPY OLD MAN approaches me and asks me the following:<br />"Why do women live longer than men?"<br />"Why?" I ask.<br />"Because they don't have wives."<br />I fake laugh and he starts to walk away. Then he turns around and faces me again.<br />"Why can't Barbie and Ken do it?"<br />I knew the answer to this one. "Because they don't have genitals."<br />He corrects me. "Because Ken comes in another box."gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-13877181858820590542009-08-25T10:37:00.003-07:002009-08-25T10:38:51.233-07:00<span style="font-family:arial;">With regard to August 13th's entry,</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">Yeah, Not so Much Anymore.</span>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-89675670043227816512009-08-14T13:36:00.002-07:002009-08-14T14:05:27.499-07:00<a href="http://images-eu.amazon.com/images/P/0765356198.02.LZZZZZZZ.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 352px" alt="" src="http://images-eu.amazon.com/images/P/0765356198.02.LZZZZZZZ.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://mentatjack.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/zt-large.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Zoe’s Tale</strong> was a totally dissatisfying read. It was a means to an end and that end was to fill the holes in the previous book in John Scalzi’s Old Man’s War universe, <strong>The Last Colony</strong>. I ate up <strong>The Last Colony</strong>. I fell in love with the characters and their situation, lost in space, not being able to communicate with their own people because they were, in a way, exiled. I enjoyed their wit and audaciousness. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I remember picking it up on a whim before a trip and beginning to read it at the airport. I remember </span><a href="http://www.myspace.com/officialjesu"><span style="font-family:arial;">Jesu</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> was what was playing on my headphones, while my ex-girlfriend read whatever it was she was reading and listened to whatever it was she was listening to. We had probably missed our flight and were killing time until the next one. That’s how we travelled. We ran late, missed flights. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Once I finished <strong>The Last Colony</strong>, I ordered the two previous books in the story, <strong>Old Man's War</strong> and <strong>Ghost Brigades</strong>. I ate them up too. I read them in record time, and I was ready to follow John Scalzi through this or any series of books. I hadn't read sci-fi this fun since <strong>Ender's Game</strong>.<br /><br />Anyway, <strong>The Last Colony</strong> had massive plot holes and untied loose ends, and <strong>Zoe's Tale</strong>, the story of <strong>The Last Colony</strong> told from the point of view of the protagonists' teenage daughter, was Scalzi's attempts to fill those holes and tie those loose ends. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Zoe, the teenager telling the story, is all sassy and smart and her personality just <em>bleeds<strong> </strong></em>through the pages. It's clunky and weird and there was a part at the very beginning where I worried she might try to fuck her female best friend.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm sure it's a hell an undertaking for an adult male author to write a book from within the head of a teenage girl, and I can appreciate the ambitiousness of the project, but in this case it didn't work. I'm not interested in spoiling anything about the book so I won't go into scenes that I disliked in particular, but I can say that I was a little relieved when it was over. I didn't want to see teenage Zoe ever again. I like John Scalzi, mostly, and I'll keep reading his books. Maybe even one where Zoe's an adult and it doesn't feel like Scalzi's so far out of his element.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Yeah.</span></div></div>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-37379920602643861632009-08-13T14:38:00.004-07:002009-08-13T14:42:05.861-07:00<span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm Feeling Pretty Good.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I'm working out a whole lot and eating pretty well. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I've pretty much eradicated cheese in my diet, and I've been going to the gym on my lunch breaks. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I. I. I. I. I.</span>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-2410535099435267272009-06-13T16:58:00.005-07:002009-06-13T17:15:47.820-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/images/n59/n297216.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 360px;" src="http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/images/n59/n297216.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />The World Beneath</span> is a book that I picked up at <a href="http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Home">The Stranger'</a>s Slog Happy, a monthly happy hour event in which the Stranger staff invites their readers to come out and have a drink with them. There are food and drink specials, friendly people, and free books. Their literary critic brings out a whole mess of galleys and uncorrected proofs (same thing?) and people are invited to take books home with them, read them, and review them.<br /><br />There's really only one thing about Aaron Gwyn's <span style="font-weight: bold;">The World Beneath</span> that bothers me, and I'll take a moment to get it out of the way-- it seems like a modern fiction cliche to have the story's hero be traumatized by something that happened to them when they were younger. The death of a child by being run over, the death of a wife by fire, the death a little brother by drowning, the discovery of an artifact-collecting grandfather in the middle of an old-people orgy sex ritual, etc. Each hero is haunted by what they've seen or whatever else life has dealt them, and it has a tendency to inform their decisions for the rest of the book. It also has a tendency for flashback-making.<br /><br />Oh, well. The rest of <span style="font-weight: bold;">The World Beneath</span> is about a few different things, all of which revolve around holes in the ground and Native American myths. There are three characters whose stories are told-- each of them broken in a different way because of their traumas. JT, a half-Mexican half-Chickasaw boy, a loner, is obsessed with going underground to be with his dead father. Sheriff Martin blames himself for his little brother's death and spends his entire life trying to make good on that, and Hickson Creed fought in the first Gulf War and is suffering from PTSD. The story flashes back and forth between two different timelines and JT's own narration of some of the important events in his own life, and all three character's lives intersect.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The World Beneath</span> is a relatively short, spare story that sadly, loses some of steam as it moves forward but still is a story very much worth your time. This is Aaron Gwyn's first novel, and I'm looking forward to the second.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-52236393962908542132009-05-29T22:14:00.003-07:002009-05-29T22:24:28.089-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.infibeam.com/img/fe785e22/334/0/9781891830334.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 305px;" src="http://img.infibeam.com/img/fe785e22/334/0/9781891830334.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I really, really love what it is that James Kochalka does. And what he does is touching, cute, and shockingly violent at the same time. And by touching I mean <span style="font-style: italic;">surprisingly</span> touching. I've read 2.5 of his books now and they always get me right there. I told him so. I pointed at my chest and said "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Monkey vs. Robot</span> got me right there, man." of course, that was when I'd only read <span style="font-weight: bold;">Monkey vs. Robot</span>. I've since read just less than half of the first collected <span style="font-weight: bold;">American Elf</span> book and now, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Magic Boy and the Robot Elf</span>.<br /><br />It really is a thing of beauty the way he tells these seemingly nonsensical tales that grab you. Almost like a cuter, less developed version of a <a href="http://www.fantagraphics.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=88&Itemid=82">Jason story.</a><br /><br />I suggest everyone go to their local bookstore, grab a cup of coffee, and read a James Kochalka book as soon as possible.<br /><br />Then buy all of them.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-27102862290586447922009-05-29T21:26:00.005-07:002009-05-29T21:48:38.093-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/32150000/32151845.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 421px;" src="http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/32150000/32151845.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">book clubs pt. 3</span><br /><br />I actually read <span style="font-weight: bold;">Couch</span> before reading <span style="font-weight: bold;">Whatever you do, Don't Run, </span>but I wasn't sure what to say about it. I'm still not entirely sure.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Couch</span> was a winding and long read. I was in it to finish it, and I did, but I didn't feel like it was worth the trip.<br /><br />Three guys-- Thom, Erik, and Tree, decide to carry a mystical, nearly invincible couch to its place of origin. Kind of like a modern Tolkien story. People try to stop them, everyone wants the couch and whatever power/knowledge it may or may not contain within. There's even a Tom Bombadil character.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Couch</span> was an adventure that really, really made me feel hopeless for the characters. Everything was so grueling and sweaty and dark and lost for so much of the book. I felt a little abused by the end. A little taken. Again, just like Tolkien only the end of <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Return of the King</span> was worth the trip.<br /><br />I liked that the character of Erik was kind of a prick, and that Thom had so much heart. Tree was kind of useless.<br /><br />I read this book for the Elliott Bay sci-fi book club and when I arrived I met a whole bunch of people who really, really seemed to like the book more than I did.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-46814313019554821872009-05-09T19:12:00.003-07:002009-05-09T19:34:55.358-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/P/B001LNOOHA.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 361px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/P/B001LNOOHA.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Book club books for to meet people pt. 2. </span><br /><br />The last book club went well. There were seven or eight people there, all ready and I guess somewhat excited to discuss The <span style="font-weight: bold;">Last Night at the Lobster</span>. It was me and a few ladies in their 40s, and everyone was really kind. I liked it-- people were interested in discussing even the smallest parts of the book and everyone laughed at everything I said.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Whatever You Do, Don't Run</span> was another such purchase-- to get me into a book club and get me talking shit with a new group of people in Seattle. This time it was the new yelp.com book group, and it went well. The conversation was good, the coffee and snacks even better (Cafe El Diablo).<br /><br />Take a look at the cover of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Whatever You Do, Don't Run</span>. You don't have to look too closely to see that the safari hat the Lion is holding on to was superimposed using MS Paint or Print Shop. It was as if they had no intention of making any effort whatsoever. I picked it up, looked at it, looked at the cost ($16, methinks), and almost didn't buy it. It's not as if Safari-guide non-fiction is something I was dying to read.<br /><br />I got it anyway, and I guess I'm kind of glad. Peter Allison's book is a bunch of episodes, mostly ending in bad sitcom-style jokes, about being a tour-guide in Botswana. He's not a particularly good writer, but the he managed to pique my interest in what it must be like encounter a lion while walking alone in the Desert. Almost every story involves encounters with animals that can bite, stomp, sting, or squeeze you to death. Sometimes it reminded me of reading horror, because the danger level seemed almost unreal. At one point Allison parties with some of the guests, and one of them gets drunk and wanders off in the middle of the night. The assumption, the book has you believe, is that it is almost impossible that he hasn't been devoured by something.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Whatever You Do, Don't Run</span> isn't a book that gave this book club much to talk about, besides all of the "oh, shit" moments it inspires. Oh, shit. Lions and snakes are like zombies, waiting beyond and sometimes within the small perimeter of the safari camp to devour you.<br /><br />I guess, for me, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Whatever you Do, Don't Run</span> is the definitive summer beach read. You just read this simple book, and its over in a day. Occasionally you say "oh, shit" and you might giggle a couple of times, though I find that hard to believe. I'm going to send it to one of my rarely-reading siblings. I found it that readable.<br /><br />Also, did I mention I got my job back just over a month ago? Things are better now.<br /></span>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-57273007470125003532009-04-01T21:46:00.003-07:002009-04-01T23:24:25.068-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt4GPS1o_iixDkTi6_T52MRuXhys5bdu7MBEx4Mk71BA3TNOMFgLROrQrZdRglYQT1nIHqdfYFcs6E3uLTcBJltZwIh6mdl6JYK7845xipNKczz6BcXSQdyvOEj4-t6rxaGh6v/s1600-h/the+underdogs.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt4GPS1o_iixDkTi6_T52MRuXhys5bdu7MBEx4Mk71BA3TNOMFgLROrQrZdRglYQT1nIHqdfYFcs6E3uLTcBJltZwIh6mdl6JYK7845xipNKczz6BcXSQdyvOEj4-t6rxaGh6v/s200/the+underdogs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319956410806579634" border="0" /></a> <!--- blog body --> <br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >The Underdogs</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" > </span><span style="font-family:arial;">is a foul, foul book.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It was so hard to get through-- the translation was so weird and made me feel like very word of it was being read to me by fat Sgt. Garcia from the 1950's </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Zorro</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> TV show that was always on the Disney Channel when I was a kid.</span><br /><br /><img style="font-family: arial;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/34/Hcalvinasgarcia.jpg" /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >The Underdogs</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> is supposed to be the great novel of the Mexican revolution, but more than that it is a book about the failures of the revolution. One gets the impression that Azuela really meant to undermine the Mexican revolution by writing it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The tales it tells, kind of episodically, are about the heroism of the revolutionaries, then about their brutality as they rape and pillage their way through village after village.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The stories Mariano Azuela tells, especially with regard to Camilla, a woman whose life is greatly affected by this particular band of revolutionaries, are cut and dry. They're meant to be told that way, too, and it was very effective. When she's mistreated by the revolutionaries it is as though the author himself doesn't give a shit about her. I feel like that itself was one of the strengths of the book.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">These men, they start off with nothing, they fight back, and then forget what they're fighting for. It was a devastating read. If you're interested in a short book that'll take you a long time because, seriously, it really is </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >no fun at all</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> to read, then </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >The Underdogs</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> is for you.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /></span>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-33322388169625678132009-03-25T23:01:00.002-07:002009-03-25T23:05:17.322-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bcreading.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/last-night-at-the-lobster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 335px;" src="http://bcreading.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/last-night-at-the-lobster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"> <span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I enjoyed the shit out of</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" > Last Night at the Lobster</span><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I <span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">picked the book up out of an interest in joining in on the fun at one of the many <a href="http://www.elliotbaybook.com/">Elliot Bay Book Company</a> book clubs and maybe meeting some people in this town of mine. </span> <span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We'll see how that works out.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" >Last Night at the Lobster</span><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> is about a Connecticut Red Lobster on its final day-- corporate offices has deemed this particular store redundant and has decided to close it down.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mostly we follow around a guy named Manny, the restaurant's manager, as he deals with his feelings on the final day, a massive blizzard, his feelings for one of his servers, and a staff that just barely wants to be there. </span> <span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /><br />Every word of the book rang true, I felt. Stewart O'Nan really has a handle on what it is to have your place of employment close down-- it really is a big deal, a world-shaker, but with the exception of a few hugs and drinks with your co-workers, not the kind of deal where its really acceptable to get emotional in public.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Last Night at the Lobster </span>is a very quick read (finished it in two days) but still entirely worth the $13 cover price, I thought.<br /><br /><br /></span></span> </span>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-50207971638662438452009-03-09T23:05:00.002-07:002009-03-09T23:09:54.052-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bostonmovietours.net/blog/uploaded_images/shutter-727700.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 267px;" src="http://bostonmovietours.net/blog/uploaded_images/shutter-727700.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="blogSubject"><br /><label id="translatedBlogSubject_474727581" style="display: none;"></label> </div> <!--- blog body ---> Stutter Island.<br />I don't understand how Scorcese's chosen this as his next movie.<br />I'm sure he'll make it into something watchable. Maybe even something good. But I'm gonna give this book away.<br /><br />Teddy's a U.S. Marshall trying to track down Rachel Solando, an escaped violent mental patient who drowned all her kids, or something. He and his partner are on Shutter Island, the place where she escaped from her awesome ward of violent mental cases. Surprises abound.<br /><br />I don't even feel like going over it. This movie will be Scorcese by way of Shyamalan. for real.gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15375476.post-15096746229544472932009-02-24T05:41:00.003-08:002009-02-24T06:03:02.092-08:00<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >I'm laid off.<br /></span></span> <span style="font-family:arial;">I was given my walking papers just over a week ago.<br /><br />The job search begins. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">My work has been graceful enough to allow me to stay there until March 1st. This means I get medical until March 31st. Thank you for that, NC Machinery. I'll be taking advantage -- getting massages and acupuncture every week until the 31st. </span> <span style="font-family:arial;">I have to make a dental appointment or two as well.<br />Yesterday I spent the evening at work. My shift ended at 5pm, I was home at about 10pm. I stayed at work re-doing my resume and applying for </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >one</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> job. It was an information intake officer, or something like that. I have no idea what it was or what the job entails, but I'm mostly qualified, based on their criteria.<br /><br />There was an essay portion to the application, and I had to answer each question with a narrative about why I may be capable with a customer or someshit. This, and the fact that USAjobs.gov requires you to use their version of a resume and type up all your info </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >again</span><span style="font-family:arial;">, took all evening. So now that they have my information, the government is going to be receiving applications for all kinds of shit from me. That took forever to do and it isn't worth it for just one job.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">We'll see what happens. I kno</span><span style="font-family:arial;">w of people taking weeks to get their unemployment benefits. I hope I can get mine.<br /><br />I'm worried I won't land a job soon.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://onlyfunnyjokes.com/bestoftheweb/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/worlds-worst-jobs-2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 271px;" src="http://onlyfunnyjokes.com/bestoftheweb/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/worlds-worst-jobs-2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>gabahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12159743232352020838noreply@blogger.com4