Bruce Campbell is the B-est

BLOG ENTRY
----Bruce Campbell, star of the Evil Dead movie series and a dozen or more brilliant but quickly cancelled tv series AND self proclaimed B-movie superstar, gave a book reading at the Union Square Barnes & Nobles on Thursday, for his new book Make Love! the Bruce Campbell Way which I couldn't quite finish before the reading but am almost done with now.
For those of you not as familiar with his work as an unofficial membership in a fan club might require, he is the premiere icon for the ever-shrinking world of camp comedy. He delivers lines with a self assured, straight-face delivery that only makes the slapstick groin punch that often follows that much funnier as he crumbles to the ground. He grew up next door to Sam and Ted Raimi. Sam, of most recently, Spiderman 1, 2 & 3 directing fame and has appeared in most of his films and TV series, to some extent.
----Matt and I were in attendance. Oh. My. Lord. He is freakin' hilarious in person. I kept thinking "ok, he can be hilarious in print 'cause he'd have time to write and rework pieces for maximum comedy, but how the hell is he THIS hilarious in person??" He threw out crowd killer comedy with the same ease he had killing Deadites. Something about the comanding voice, the perfect timing and the B-movie-star with A-movie-star confidence (deserved or not) has endeared him a rather large fan base, some, of course, were the typical movie-t-shirt-wearing, obsessed fan variety.
----There actually was no official 'book reading', so he launched into answering questions. Most were run of the mill type questions, some were ridiculously lame, self-focussing questions from that frustrating sort of "look at me" type audience member, but some questions were spot on great.
----Someone asked what his role in Spiderman 3 would be - to which he said "Well.. let's review... as you all know... in the first movie.. my character, the ring announcer did what? [pause] yes.. that's right.. he named "Spider man".. eh? eh? right? ok. and in Spiderman 2..? "Snooty Usher"..? the snooty usher kept [someone yells out DEFEATED Spiderman!] YES! that's right..! I ... defeated .. Spiderman... very good [he smiles, I think, a little mad that he hadn't thought of that himself] .. yes, I defeated Spiderman. So of course, in Spiderman 3, I will be Spiderman. next question?"
----Other interesting info to surface was that he lives on a large farm in Oregon and grows lavender with his wife. When asked what he does with all that lavender, he said "you're not going to believe it but... we take it to Steven Segal's ranch in California and refine it. I kid you not. Steven Segal owns a ranch the size of Rhode Island in the middle of California, I guess from making... Under Seige 2 maybe.. and he has all sorts of botanicals and herbs and who knows whatnot else all around.. anyway, he's got these... vats and... bubblers and such... this is all very scientific, isn't it? So.. we take the lavender down there and refine it. Then we fight a little [he makes chop fighting motions with his arms]."
----I'm not doing his comedy justice, but needless to say, if he does a reading in your town, GO. Do NOT not go and tell yourself later "Ahhhrgh, I should have gone!". No. Instead? Go. Go see him. You will laugh. You will smile. You may get a little gassy, I dont know. Kinda depends on what you ate before hand. But go. Go see him.
----Also, rent all his movies and see his new movie, out in theaters now.
----And of course, visit his website http://www.bruce-campbell.com/ to stay up on your Bruce Campbell happenings and babblings.

matt's regifted b-day present

JOURNAL / BLOG ENTRY
So yesterday, matt, mike, andrew & i went to pier 42 on the Hudson to fly matt's gay kite. matt's gay kite is gay 'cause it's rainbow colored and likes boy kites. and it doesn't fly. 'cause it sucks and i think it's too worried about how it looks. as we were leaving the pier, two gay girls saw the kite sticking out of matt's bag, stopped him & asked "oooh, Mister? can we have a rainbow flag?!!" - it was all mike & andrew & i could do to not laugh at matt and his gay kite.

Over and Over and Overheard

JOURNAL ENTRY
++ No Dave, you do NOT let anyone in to her room to take anything. No Dave, it is NOT ok. Dave, do you even Know this daughter of yours? do you see how she's playing us?

++ I haven't seen her since afternoon yesterday. No one has. Yeah, she has her cell phone on her. ya, that's a joke, she just turns it off or doesn't answer it when she sees it's me calling. She thinks I was born yesterday and I'm a baby. A little baby who doesn't know what's going on.

++ she's with that boyfriend, I'm sure. what does he even do..? oh. ya, I know what that is.. like the legal kind.. but not legal, right? right. Ya, I already forbid her from staying at his place. You know.. you girls are stupid, you really are. Do you know what will happen to you if the authorities wise up to him? I dont need this. He's bad news and you all know it and you hang out with him anyway.

++ Ya, I -want- to find her. Y'know what the next thing that's gonna happen is? I'm gonna stop by his house on my way home. Ya. I'm gonna have a long talk with his parents, if he even lives with his parents. this will stop. If she wont listen, she can pack her backs and go. I'm sick of this.

++ You were at school? you're sure? really. And you couldn't give me a call? you knew I was trying to reach you. Yeah, you did. you knew. I've been trying to r... Selfish. Little. Brat. Yeah, you are. You know what Lauren. You know what Lauren. You know what Lauren.... you better start treating me better. or you're gonna be out. You really wanna say goodbye?? [click]

beauty school cop out

JOURNAL ENTRY
-----Last thursday and friday brought major drama to the House of DM. Shocking, I know. No, this was good drama for a change. Lauren had, it seems, been 'personally recommended' by her beauty school's principal to be an intern/trainee/protege at a prestigious NY hair salon and would, with a little perserverence, soon be doing the hair of the stars! How do I know this? DM called, I believe, half of all NY residents and told them about it.
----selected hilariousness from an Oprah Winfrey review of the salon: ...Rita has set beauty trends and reinvented celebrities. [robot voice: you have been reinvented] She has created the signature looks for stars such as Jessica Simpson, Jennifer Lopez, Carmen Electra, Brooke Shields and many others. In addition to this wealth of creativity, [working on stars = wealth of creativity?] Rita owns and operates her own busy new salon on East 65th Street in Manhattan. [wait, she doesn't just own or operate it?] The loyalty of Rita's celebrity and personal clientele is attributed to her innate understanding of what looks best on women from a woman's perspective. [really though, she's a man] .... And her warm, down-to-earth personality makes her a good friend to her clients. [and she can speak with forest animals] ..... Every client, celebrity or not, receives Rita's full attention, [so gracious! the little people get attention too?!] and leaves Rita's hands feeling more glamorous then when they arrived. [Rita's hands feel more glamorous "then" when they arrived? wait, where were the hands before they arrived??] A mix of rock and roll and Forties glamour inspires Rita's color choices. [sooo... a mix of Joan Jett and Mrs. Cunningham..? wow, that's hot] ..... "You don't want your hair to 'wear' you...." [I think I saw that Twilight Zone episode] .... is a haven for in-the-know fashionable women... [quick, the world is getting me down.. To The Haven!!] A full range of luxe services are offered.... [only hair salons are allowed to use that word] ....—a chic [and that word] salon that is also a comfortable, no-attitude environment. [FOUL! the words "salon" and "no-attitude" however, can NOT be used in the same sentence]
-----DM was so proud, her husband was proud, relatives were proud, heck, -I- was proud. For now, we'll ignore the fact that she probably got the job because DM calls the school at least once a week to see what Lauren can do to make up missed time or smooth something or other out with the principal. They're on a first name basis with eachother, for chris'sakes. It also had to partly be a give-the-malcontent-a-highly-responsible-job-so-they-fly-right-on-their-own kind of job. However she got it, the world was looking bright and opportunity-filled for the House of DM.

This morning, I heard this:
++ It went horribly... they told her she was dressed inappropriately. the guy is a flaming.... I need to call her principal now. ya. ya, he's a total queen. she wore.. she wore black capris, a button up shirt, nice shoes... yeah, she looked nice. and they say this with people in ripped clothing standing all around. yeah. I cant believe this. I'm gonna have my friend Roger go down there & talk to him, he's a big ol' queen. he'll dish a little sass out to that.... yeah. I know. He needs to shut his fat fu%#ing mouth.

++ hi baby, i got your metrocard. where are you? ok. are you going to be able to shut your AC off? alright. I'm gonna talk to your principal, she's gonna wanna talk to you, alright. So be waiting for the call. DONT go back to sleep, you hear me? ok, baby.

++ yeah, but you have to tell her what this guy did. I wanna talk to her. Not for nothing, but you were sick the night before. I'm telling you, I'm gonna send the flamingest queen down there... to take this queen out, I swear. In midtown manhattan no less. I'm telling you. My name is not Lauren. I cant tell her what happened. You are not a bug to be squashed. You have a talent that needs to be nurtured.

6/20/05 Update
++ So I talked to her principal. Yeah. She was apologizing profusely Damn right she'd better. I know. Lauren says to me, she says "Ma, I felt like I was overdressed". I know, yeah. The guy was standing there telling her she was overdressed and he's in ripped jeans. Big queen. He wanted a guy, wanted Lauren to show up and be a little boy for him.

how to be the 'bad guy'

JOURNAL ENTRY
----Last week, I volunteered to take a walk up 6th Ave to pick up some food Matt & I had ordered. It was a nice day, the sun was shining, beautiful people were out being beautiful, life was good and mexican food was eager to be in my belly... or visa versa. As I rounded the corner of Washington Place (my street) and 6th Ave, I saw our corner's ever-present, resident panhandler: a 6' tall black guy who's always dressed in what looks like very new clothes, never dirty, always sitting on a small stool he brings, always jangling his plastic cup pointedly at passer-by's. I've never liked this particular guy. He's been out there for over a year and always seems to be staring accusingly, blamingly, demandingly at the people passing by. I do not, at all, like this kind of panhandling. It's a rude slap in the face to the compassion and charity people extend to the needy. The sense of entitlement and judgement for those who dont give, the labelling and snide stares.... Grrrr. it burns me up. It took me months to realize that NY panhandlers, on the whole, are a lot nicer than they are in SF, are a lot less agressive, are a lot more motivated to provide a service - usually entertainment via an instrument or solo singing or harmonized singing or dancing (seriously, i almost got hit in face by a kid who was doing a HEAD spin on a crowded, MOVING subway train) - or they will tell a story of how they got to the unfortunate state they're in and what they're doing to get out of it. I respect those methods, absolutely. They are either doing something to earn their money or doing something to get out of their current situation. It's the habitual, easy-ride panhandlers who know they can make $40 to $100 a day panhandling and have no intention of stopping that bothers me.
----BUT I DIGRESS..... So I turn to walk up 6th Ave - I know I have to pass this guy - As I do, I'm not looking at him, but I hear him say "PUH-LEEEZE MASSA, PLEEEZE!! Pleeeze Massa, Pleeeze!!" - for those of you not fluent in very old school racism, "massa" = "master", ie. I was, I guess, his white, slave-owning, land owner and he was my lowly slave, begging for pity. I couldn't F'n believe my ears. I knew this guy was an ass, but I had no idea how much so. He said the same thing maybe four times, back to back, looking at me with mock sorrow, hating me all the way, I guess for never giving him money.
----If you know me, you know how I'm all sweetness and light but you might also know that I dont stand for being called out publically by individuals, for stupid sh!t I have no business being called out for. I just dont. I usually end up making a small scene as I talk smack right back or make the person back down from what they've said and I usually hear this from whoever I'm with: "kory, seriously... let it go... c'mon, let's go". I'm not particularly proud of that aspect of myself. I'll probably end up being goaded into a physical fight at some point, but... I digress.. Again...
----So.. I know I have to do something to not let this arsehole-panhandler guy get away with what he's said. I dont want to stop and talk it out, obviously, 'cause that'd just be fruitless... So, I turn and flip the guy off as I'm walking away. As I do it, I realize that it's been so long since I've flipped someone off, that I've forgotten how to do it. It doesn't feel natural. I dont bend my index and ring finger like I used to in elementary and middle school... I just raise my middle finger and huddle the rest of my fingers tight. AS I am thinking about HOW I went about flipping him off, I suddenly become aware of this fact: as far as other people who have seen this happen, I am now a guy who just flipped off a homeless guy. And sure enough, as I continue walking up 6th Ave, I see people looking at me then looking at the homeless guy then back to me, wondering why the hell I just flipped off that poor homeless guy.
----The best part may have actually been that when I -did- flip him off, he smiled and laughed a hearty, approving laugh like he: A) had finally gotten the reaction he was looking for in someone B) respected me a little more because I didn't just let him get away with it C) had found a unique response in the "what would happen if..." game he was playing.
----I felt kinda used after that. He got what he wanted with my reaction but all I got was a new label: Guy Who Flips Off Homeless Guys.

what's "dating"? knee-v-ball NYC

BLOG ENTRY
So...
---not to jinx anything or anything... but I'm dating someone. Ya, I know, that only took a full year+, right?
----Dont ask where we met. I will tell you we met on the moon.
Her name is Sarah, and she is a super cool, sweet, sexy lil thing. (except she's not "lil", she's 5'10") that's Quite quite fun - the dating, not her height. Also fun is the fact that for the 1st time in my life I'm not on a mad dash sprint to boyfriend/girlfriend-status, which is actually strange for it being uncharted territory for me. (ya ok, so I never learned the basics of conventional dating - i Did have the same gf all through college, y'know)
----She's a freelance editor/writer (right now, working for Scholastic books, Country Living and editing a cookbook for Martha Stewart (Yes, it's all part of my alterior motives to end up dating Martha)) and a marathon runner - good god, runners ... i doubt I could ever get fit like she is. And in general is incredibly smart, funny and has her life ridiculously together which brings a level of respect and admiration that is Quite Quite sexy in itself. Oh and she's almost finished writing her second novel and she wont let me read it... which is also sexy.
----We went to Philadelphia this last weekend to see a travelling Salvador Dali exhibition at the Phili Museum of Art. Most excellent. I'd seen the Dali Museum in St Petersburg FL years ago (the 2nd largest collection of his work outside of Spain) but this exhibit in Phili had works from Spain, St Petersburg and a lot from private collections. Phili itself was cool but our time was limited there since I'd ... [sigh] ... lost my damn phone on the Amtrak train getting to Phili. While we were in the museum, the guy who found it called Sarah's phone & we arranged to meet up at the train station that night... turned out it was the conductor who found it & i think mighta been operating a little side venture wherein he finds lost cell phones, calls the last number(s) dialed & tries to get the phone back to the owner to collect a reward. I didn't mind in the slightest.. it was well worth a reward to not have to deal w/ the hassle of replacing a phone.
----Not much else is new out this way - I wrenched my knee playing sand v-ball two saturdays ago - I thought I'd torn something in it (again, grrr) but i think i just sprained it... I hope. It of course all happened in slow motion and sounded like wet knuckles rubbing hard against eachother - no "pop" sounds - so that's good. With no health insurance, I'm REALLY hoping nothing tore, at least. I played last night and it held up really well with only a few minor minor scares. It amazes me that I could be more than halfway into a given physical action (a deep lunge to the side, a jump, a dive, whatever) and split-second-think to myself "ok, that was dumb, that's a great way to injure the knee again, jackass!" but not be able to NOT make the dangerous move in the first place. Luckily, the knee brace I wore provided the physical and psychological support it's intended to give and kept me, mostly at least, conscious to be extra careful on it.
----Our team is in 3rd place in our league and seems solidly set to make the playoffs. We're on a 6 game winning streak and it's feeling goooood. (3 games per night, once a week) One of our teammates videotapes our games and puts the footage up on the net - which is a bit ... dorky? I guess..? but hey, also fun to save such moments for posterity. ("See there, son? that's me accidentally hitting my teammate in the back of the head with the ball. Good times.... good times") If you feel like seeing the video, email me after Tuesday (6/7/05) - my teammate has usually digitized the footage & uploaded it by the Tuesday of the following week.
----What else? the weather is getting warmer, the parks are drawing cityfolk out of their work and sleep boxes, fountains spark play and giggles in children and soothe work week weary and weekened relaxing adults, natives and tourists are shopping, dining, drinking into the nights... nights without jackets, nights that feel as though they'd be daytime if not for the spiteful sun hiding out of sight...
Oh and I still love New York.
- if you couldn't tell.

Temp Guy

JOURNAL ENTRY
Sooo.....
----They hired a temp to help out with orders, here at good ol' IPC. Why? I dont know. maybe they actually saw how swamped I got at the end(s) of the month(s) ((typical Sales Guy's waiting until the last minute to throw in as many orders as they can so they get their commissions)). He is a boob, a simpleton, a blockhead, a cretin, dodo, dolt, donkey, dope, dork dumbbell, dummy, dunce, fathead, goon, half-wit, ignoramus, imbecile, jackass, knothead, moron, nincompoop, ninny, nitwit, numskull (or numbskull), a pinhead, a turkey a booby (different from a boob), a fool, a goose, a ... you get the point. He's studied the process guide for days but still doesn't get it. He's watched me do dozens and dozens of orders but still doesn't get it. I've watched HIM do dozens and dozens of orders but still doesn't get it. He makes the same mistakes over & over & when I gently point out the errors, he says "Ohhh, ok.. I get it" but then either makes the same error or asks a question wherein the solution to the error that we'd gone over DOZENS of times was, you guessed it... the answer.
----He talks, incessantly. And not just about anything in general, but .... ok, here's an example - not even an hour into knowing him, he gives me 3 different self-help acronyms for motivational living. N.O.P.I.B. was the first one... damn it.. I seem to have lost the piece of paper he wrote it down on (Yeah, he wrote them down for me). It was all about taking care of your needs (the N.O. part) & then being conscious of other people's needs (the P.I.B.) And then there were a few others about prioritizing your work and other oh so helpful little tools for life, ALL the while, I'm trying to work AND train him AND make sure he knows what I'm doing AND because I've been asked to train him, I cant email and surf the net and just generally mess around at work in between the stop-and-go flows of work.
----I'm really tempted not to describe how he looks for fear you'll crumble in pity as I am sometimes tempted to do. Seriously, not to be mean or anything (is objectivity mean or just.. objective?) - for F'n reals, he needs to shave the monobrow bridge attempt and use some lotion for dry skin and please oh god please get better at shaving... the new cuts every day has me wondering if he shaves in a washing machine while blindfolded. I wont even mention the beady lil eyes of rodentia nor the face to match. ok, i'm feeling like a judgmental asshole now.
----What? I'm being mean? sit right down... let me tell you a story........

So.... Temp Guy said to me the other day:
HE: Oh, so I was thinking... there's this musician
me: [silence]
HE: ya, he's really.. musical [makes piano motion with fingers]
me: [silence]
HE: maybe you know him...?
me: [silence]
me: [more silence]
HE: shoot, what was his...
me: [silence]
HE: OH! ya, I remember....
me: [silence]
HE: ya, his name is Yani
me: [silence]
me: [more silence]
HE: ya, so I was noticing.. 'cause.. his name is Yani
me: [silence]
HE: and your name is Dayani....
me: [ANGRY silence, if that's possible]
HE: .... is... is there any relation?
me: [silence]
...then.....
me: I am seriously gonna pretend like you did not just ask me that.
HE: Oh.. you're right... I just thought...

----I wanted to punch him and say "oh my god, i'm sorry... ya that has NO relation to what you just said to me.. it just... happened..! i'm sorry"
---Elizabeth's best friend's name is also Elizabeth & twice while growing up, people asked them "you're both Elizabeth? are you two sisters?" maybe that'd be worse.
nah. mine involved Yani.

----Today is a little bit better... maybe it's just that it's Friday. Though, with him outta my hair and in my coworker Taresa's business, I feel a touch of sanity returning. I'm feeling more pity than frustration today... I cant tell which is worse.

6/3/05 UPDATE:
---The day before yesterday, my boss called the temp agency to tell them we no longer needed Temp Guy. Apparently, the message did not get through because he showed up to work yesterday. Fine. ok. the message just hadn't gotten through, right? Wrong. He showed up today, called Taresa and left a voicemail asking her to come down to the lobby and ok the guards to let him up (something we have to do for everyone without a security badge). Taresa ran this by our boss, asking him what to do. Boss says "ignore it. I'll call the temp agency again and tell them they need to call the lobby". He calls them, they say they left Temp Guy a message last night so... ya, why did he show up today? they say they'll call both him and the lobby to tell him he is no longer needed. Meanwhile, Temp Guy calls again. and again. Taresa meanwhile, tries to go down to the lobby to get some food, but there's Temp Guy, still. Two other ladies in the office used the freight elevator to avoid him. I know, I know... why didn't our boss just go down there and tell him, right? There's three ways to answer that question: 1) I tell you to go back and reread the parts of my journal that talk about my passive aggressive boss and what a schmoe he is. 2) I say "I dont know" 3) I say "he shouldn't have to. that's what temp agencies do. they hire and fire. or un-hire as the case may be".
---I find out later that Temp Guy may have just been ignoring the message(s?) from the temp agency and showing up just to see if he could work and not get told to go home by confrontation weary non-managers.
---Before you suggest it, I'll say "yes, I will be wearing my bulletproof vest to work on Monday"

Wanted Ad

JOURNAL ENTRY
Wanted: Hounds of Hell, must be felines
Last night, two hounds of hell escaped their fiery confines, took feline form and gave me a 4:30am hard sell on what a timeshare in hell would be like. Did you know a stay in hell involves two cats sprinting over you, fighting on you, wrestling at your feet then sprinting some more, crashing into and knocking over things in other rooms, then sprinting back to and over you to stare out the window with cracked out intensity for exactly 13 seconds before doing a classic FJ-&-HB-boundless-spastic-energy-loud-whimper and then trying to shatter their kory's-window-to-the-front-door world record time? seriously.
i said "BOYS!" in a commanding I'm-your-Master kind of way to which they both turned to me and gave me that British-flip-off index&middle-finger backwards peace sign go-to-hell move. It was actually pretty impressive. I dont know where they learned that - though I suppose it Would explain the JFK-to-Heathrow round-trip ticket stubs I found in the trash the other day. cheeky bastards.

Steve McQueen demonstrates what FJ & HB gave me this morning.

++ totally unrelated, but in case you were wondering how something like this might be accomplished... well.... pick the one that's right for you.

my fight with DM

JOURNAL ENTRY
So...
I got into a bit of a spat with DM. My second in as many weeks. The first was relatively harmless. And kind of confusing, actually.
Someone had asked me for a plastic bag so I reached into the filing cabinet at my desk that I stuff full of plastic bags. I use them to bring my frozen water bottles to work, saving my briefcase'y bag thing from being ruined by condensation on the bottles. (quick aside: California recycles plastic bags, New York, as far as I've been able to research, does not yet do so. This pisses me off to no end - recycling nazi that I can be. Sooo... I save them, here at work. Partly because I cant bring myself to throw them away, partly because I'm hoping I'll eventually run across a recycling service that'll take them and partly because I really want to leave a ... parting gift.. let's say... when I leave this Purgatorian way station) - Back to the story: Someone asks for a bag, I open my bag drawer, everybody sees bags, everybody comments on bags, everybody then STOPS commenting on bags, DM does NOT stop commenting on bags, DM continues to comment on bags, DM thinks she is sooo F'n funny commenting on bags, DM does not know that I DO like being joked with but do NOT like being ridiculed in a condescending manner, DM is about to feel my wrath, DM keeps commenting on bags.
Me: You know, I keep them here so when I quit this oh-so fulfilling job.. and all you suckers are still working here, -years- from now, YOU can clean them out of the cabinet.
Her: owwwkay. if you say so.
Me: (I lighten up a bit) that, and I hate that NY doesn't recycle them
Her: yeah, I guess not... you should collect more
Me: (ok. I HEAVY up a bit) maybe I will. maybe I'll start putting them all on your desk. Maybe your five cats would like to play with them.
......... it continued back & forth for a few more jabs but nothing of consequence.
....... ........ it's a battle of will's with nothing serious to argue about. She needs to be right or have the upper hand and at this point, I dont want to give it to her as a matter of principle, even though I dont at all know what we're arguing about. or IF we're arguing.

The second run in happened yesterday:
DM: "kory... what's this?"
me: "what's what?"
her: "this email"
me: "what email?"
her: "this email YOU SENT"
me: "which email I sent?"
her: "this Eee - M A I L" (she says all slow, like how stupid people talk to blind people)
me: "yeah, SORRY, i dont know WHAT you're talking about"
her: "pssh"
- ... so i go over & look. Turns out, she was cc:'d on a RESPONSE from someone else regarding an email i had sent THEM, not her. she then kept talking to me like a child (a lot more than the above, for a lot longer, you'd really need to hear her inflection to know) & i just shut her down, saying:
me: I'm sorry I cant do everyone's job for them. (in this case, extra research and a repeated summary of what's already detailed in the email)
her: I - wasn't - asking - you - to - do - anyone's - job - for - me.
me: well... you WERE, actually. you want me to go through an entire issue addressed to someone else - For You, as a quick summary, when it's all detailed in that email right there.
her: [silence, ..then..] unintelligible-passive/agressive grumble, grumble, grumble
me: if you say so
her: that's TWICE, Kory (meaning our two run-in's)
me: [silence]
her: you know that, right?
me: [silence]
her: unintelligible-passive/agressive grumble, grumble, grumble
me: [silence]

what's funny is, if you've worked with me or know me at all, you'll know it's a fact that i'll do about 10 times more than I'm supposed to for nice people... I just will. without question. without wanting anything in return down the road. I will, however, go out of my way to make more work for not nice people. why? because it's sooo damn fun to. This would be Judge Kory doling out small samples of justice and revenge on the imbicilic dullards who do not play nice. It's the little things in life.
I still really like DM, believe it or not. Well.. maybe "am highly amused by" is more accurate than "like". I like her sass, the feisty spirit & how she somehow manages to run an overly disfunctional family. I realized with the above two spats though, that while she speaks to -everyone- like that, that I ... umm... do not respond so well to be talked to like that. And by "do not respond" I mean "prepare for battle to the death". proverbially speaking, of course.

DM Overheard's

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DM Overheard's
++ Lauren, I dont ... Lauren, I dont know... Lauren.. do you REALLY think i HID your jacket? Why would I do that? Lauren... Lau-ren.. is it on the back of the ... ok, is it in the clos... LAUREN, stop screaming at me!

++ I thought to myself.. who is this kid walking with just her jeans in her hands..?

++ you needed $100, I gave you $100, you needed clothes... you.. bought something else. I DO understand. Lauren, Lauren, listen to me. I know that, but I'm telling you... Lauren, are you at school?

++ Lauren, stop making a mountain out of a molehill. if something is gone, we can replace it. NO I DO understand! And I told you 7 times... you want to go pick one up tomorrow?? It's ok, you can go get one. I need one too, I'm tired of wearing the same....

++ not only are you killing me with the smell.. but. your body odor is.... water is your friend, Dave. I have to shampoo the furniture because your body odor stays in the furniture. I do everything for you, you can do this thing for me, Go Wash.

++ I have Lauren screaming over coats. A coat I haven't seen in weeks. it's like: 'Lauren, maybe you shouldn't get drunk, pass out at other people's houses & lose your coats.' Ya think? So I have her complaining that her father is stealing her coats.. or -I- am. Her father smells worse than a sewer and I.... woah. I dont know.

++ Lauren, you need to stop talking to me like I'm your child. Lauren, I am the parent and YOU are the child. Yes, you are. Yes, Lauren. you are talking... Lauren it comes out nasty. Lauren, it's NASTY. and the tone in your voice comes off as condescending. you need to listen to you voice 'cause there's nothing nice in it. AT ALL.

More Overheard

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More DM Overheard's
++ DM: Lauren, you've already missed... 1.. 2.. 3, 4 ... NO, I'm just SAYING. no YOU listen to ME. Lauren, it's amazing they haven't kicked you out already. Yeah,.. you got lucky. they're pretty stupid for not noticing, dontcha think?
++ DM: I dont know Lauren, I need to see how much I have. Fine, use it all for your dress, I told you, I dont care. Besides - I need to go to the pawn shop to pick up your heart ring, your name place, your bracelet. you dont want to lose THAT stuff, do you? NO, i didn't think so. God I hope you learned a lesson. I know you probably didn't, though.
++ DM: Yeah & I gotta go buy you another Metrocard 'cause you took mine, remember? Yeah, I dont have one. You took it but where did it go, Lauren?? You just dont think.

Monday, monday / zombie, zombie

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The perfect Monday song: Postal Service: We Will Become Silhouettes

I listen to it at least every Monday. I think it may have supernatural recuperative powers, ideally suited for Mondays. The video (above) is how I first saw/heard the song. Quite a great video, actually.
And this song of course - Sea and Cake - Sound and Vision - will be one of my favorite songs until the universe comes to an end. It goes with Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays ... not Thursdays, .. Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. On second thought, it does go with Thursdays.

Sooo... back when I wrote about my love of zombies, I had considered writing up a Zombie Surivival Guide of sorts. Silly, silly me. How naiive to think that it hadn't already been done a million times! Granted, mine would be way funnier, but still.... these folks did up a good website for our survival needs.

Office Chatter

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Office Chatter:
Large Marge: does anyone have a dictionary?
me: no, but m-w.com is the Merriam Webster website
Large Marge: nah, i dont want to go through that much trouble
me: I say nothing. daggers fly out of my eyes, though - puncturing her large ass. she flies off like a balloon.

WashSqPk toe massager

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A toe massage.. sexual?? Oh NYU girl, you are so naiive.

So I'm sitting in the Washington Square Park circle after work yesterday, reading.
Next to me, is a pretty, young brunette reading a textbook and highlighting occassional passages. She's wearing a light sweater, capri pants and flip flops with little toe rings on two toes. The circle is filled with it's usual assortment of students, neighborhood locals, tourists and crazy people - refreshingly, nothing's changed too much from last year.
Enter: my new favorite crazy person. He's a dark skinned, slightly big boned, black guy wearing a loose track suit and basketball jersey. He's not a bad looking guy but he's all too obviously scoping, there's no question about it - almost predatorily looking around for a girl to sit down next to and chat up. Sure enough, he picks NYU-girl next to me.
And so he begins... I truly admire the ease with which he starts, the conversation flow he generates and the friendly and lively response he gets out of her. How is it not at all hard for him and obviously so friggin' difficult for me to start up conversations out of the blue with girls?? Grr. whatever. So, I'm eavesdropping a little, getting some pointers maybe, when I hear little bits of coversation that go something like this: "have you ever had your ........ ......." --"Noooo, I'm not really ...... I dont like ...." -- "really? you should... it's great, you'll like it... let me show you" -- "Nooo, that's ok, really, I ..." -- "no, really... you Will like it, trust me"
At this point, I look over. What the hell is he talking about? I look over, to see him... moving in to touch her toes. "Nooo! really... I ... really dont like it when people touch my toes" -- "no, it's not like that... it's not sexual at all... here, I'll show you" -- "nooo, no really... thanks, I'm sure it feels really good, but..." -- "really, you're confusing this. it's not sexual or sensual, it'll make you feel good. it releases tension ........ ....here, I'll show" -- "nnooo, that's ok, I ... really... just dont let people touch my" -- "ok... I'm sorry, that's cool". And he stops.
I look up a bit, check out the scene... she's trying to play it cool... he's Definitely trying to play it cool, looking around the circle nonchalantly. She goes back to reading her textbook, the sound of kids chasing eachother and squeeling fades in a Doppler effect as they zig zag their way away from the circle. I go back to reading. I then hear a loud squeel. Not kids. the NYU girl. Crazy toe massager has reached over while she was reading and touched her toes. "Noooo!! HEEE! Really, please... I dont like that" -- "how do you know you dont like it, if you haven't felt it?" -- "really, I just know, my toes are really sensitive" -- "but it's not sexual, you think I'm trying to be sexual" -- "nooo, it's not that, I just..." -- "here, I'll show you" -- "nooo, really, I.." -- "ok, ok.. it's alright. I was just trying to help" -- "thanks. really.. I just... " -- "it's ok".
At this point, I'm thinking 'great, I'm going to have to intervene and speak up for her - then the guy is going to get all chest-puffy and tell me to mind my own business - then I'm going to have to insist that the girl said "no" and please respect that - then the guy is going to tell me to shut the F up and go back to reading - then I'm going to say "I will, just leave her alone... please" - then he's going to tell me to shut up before he shuts me up - etc, etc - all the while, the girl is going to think I'm standing up for her 'cause I want to maybe sleep with her or perhaps I have my own secret plans to touch her toes - when really, I'm just trying to be a nice guy who stands up for someone in need of a little help.
So I'm weighing my options and the gravity of the situation - trying to determine when I should say something and evisioning the wrath of all the park crazies being called in like Tarzan calls his animal friends, forever branding myself as that guy who's going to get his ass handed to him when he gets caught alone in some dark alley.
NYU girl fishes her phone out of her bag and makes a call to a friend. Phew... she's now busy, he's Got To leave her alone now, right? I go back to reading. Squeeeeel! "Nooo! oh nooo, nooo, really..." -- "you'll really like it... I just .. need to show you" -- "no, it's ok" -- "I know... you will like it once I show you, it Is ok" -- "no, I mean... really. my toes, I..." -- "ok, ok... but you should really let me show you" -- "thanks! I... maybe someone else would.." -- "ok, ok. I wont, it's ok" and she goes back to her phone call, nervously avoiding eye contact or any move in his direction. I look over - he's sneaking a long stare at her toes.
Wow. Owwwkay. what do I say... what should I say to him... I should.. say... hmm... what's something difussing yet cool enough to keep my awesome street cred and not provoke a violent response ... and... let's see.... I could say..... He gets up.
He walks off.. slowly. He looks around the circle a bit, but then walks up the few stairs and steps over the circle edge. And then he's gone.....
Not two minutes later, NYU-girl's friends show up and she hurriedly tells them the story. Everyone is shocked and repulsed but fighting back a bit of uncomfortable laughter. One of her friends says "oh my god, that's sooo creepy. That sorta reminds me of that girl who took a nap in the park last week and woke up with some guy massaging her feet!" - 1 second pause. Four girls in unison "AAAAH!! No Way!! EYEWWW!"
Meanwhile, I'm thinking 'wait, that REMINDS YOU of the girl who took a nap' - you mean.. you THINK they might be related?!??! DO You, little miss Smart Cookie?!?! ya think?? you must be studying to be a lawyer!
Needless to say, this guy is my new favorite WSPk crazy person - The Crazy Toe Massager. I need to keep an eye on him of course, and an ear open in case, god forbid, he tries anything more than toe massaging. I'll gladly add corroboration or line-up spotting if it's needed in the future, but for now... as far as crazy people go... he seems moderately harmless.

Lest you think NY has lost it's crazy-guy luster.....................

Overheards and sightings

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When Overheards Become Depressing and Scary:
++ DM: ya, she didn't come home last night. I dont even know what to do. He's 28. ya. Twenty Eight Years Old. Ya. and not just that but he's gotta ... checkered past.. let's say.
++ DM: Mary Magdelane was the biggest trrrramp.

Sightings:
++ Saw Tim Robbins rollerblading in Tribeca- 98% sure it wasn't him. If it wasn't, it was different 6'5"-good-lookin'-older-guy-hockey-nut slowly skating home. (for some reason, Karen knew Tim Robbins lives in Tribeca)
++ Saw Abe Vigoda (no, he's not dead) crossing Canal on Broadway. Abe (who is still not dead as of this last sentence) looked like he was walking on a planet with 5 times our gravity. If you would like to keep up on Abe's aliveness - abevigoda.com
++ Saw Mario Batali in the W Village. AGAIN. I swear, that guy needs to get up out of my face before I.... ..before I... ...what? eat at his restaraunt finally?
++ Saw Charlie Rose in his high end convertible (top down) on 7th avenue near Greenwich. Had a younger looking Asian woman in the passenger seat wearing sunglasses. He seemed tan, tall and slightly lecherous.
++ Saw Nicole Kidman speed reading Ralph Waldo Emerson and typing away furiously on a 10 year old laptop. Also on the table were How To Break Into Documentary Film and Bionic SuperCollectors. I looked over her shoulder at what she'd been typing and it turned out to be a blog about stalking me. this happened in the vicinity of... In My Dreams.

How to:

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How to tell people your life story, by my coworker, Dianna M:
- Step 1. talk.
- Step 2. keep talking.
- Step 3. do not stop talking.
- Step 4. repeat.
- Step 5. keep repeating.
- Step 6. ignore attempts by listeners to get away.
Seriously. she has a problem. I wish I was exagerating a little. There's just no need to:

--The Last Highly Annoying 30 Minutes of My Life
- A play, in one act.
--CAST:
- Dianna M
- 'Napoleon' - our department manager
- Visiting Suit Lady
- Visiting Suit Man # 1
- Visiting Suit Man # 2
--SCENE: {there is actually no scene to set. this all takes place 7 feet behind my back. I do not turn around to look at any of them. I have to listen to all of them. Why? Because they're 7 frickin' feet behind me, talking like there isn't anyone trying to work 7 frickin' feet away.}
-------------------------
Napoleon: Dianna, hey, this is Visiting Suit Lady and Visiting Suit Man # 1 and 2 from Partner-Telecom-Company-So&So, they're going to be working with us doing blah-blah-blah
DM: Hiiiii... it's sooo nice to meet you! how are you?
[insert 5 minutes of mutual ass-kissing here. smooch smooch smooch]
Visiting Suit Lady: [hears phone ringing] Oh, I'll let you get that call, it was really great to meet you, I'm sure we'll see eacho....
DM: Oh, dont worry about it, it's just my husband
Visiting Suit Lady: you're sure? I...
DM: trust me. he can wait. He's calling to tell me my daughter missed school again.
Visiting Suit Man # 1: [uncomfortable chuckle] Ha! I... miss those days. I wish I could miss school too.
DM: Oh she's great at it. she does it all the time. she's about to flunk out of school because of it.
Visiting Suit Lady: really?? oh no...
DM: ya, she's a wreck. I keep calling her school to smooth things over and she keeps digging a deeper hole for herself. I'm at my wits end with her.
[uncomfortable silence]
Visiting Suit Lady: [talking about picture on DM's desk] Oh, is that your daughter? she's really pret..
DM: [interrupts] Ya, that's her. and her cat.
Visiting Suit Lady: So cute, I had a cat like tha..
DM: [interrupts] That cat has cancer. We just found out a few weeks ago.
Visiting Suit Lady: Oh, I'm so sorry to hear tha..
DM: [interrupts] Ya. what are ya gonna do? we may have to put it down, I dont know. My daughter's had the cat forever. It's 8 years old. something in it's shoulder.
[uncomfortable silence]
Visiting Suit Lady: that's so sad... it's such a tragedy when pets get sick.
DM: tell me about it. I've got 5. cats. Not that I'm some crazy cat lady or nothin'.
[pause]
Visiting Suit Man # 2: ya, like those women with 20 cats.
DM: Right. I'm not like that, at all. I dont understand people like that.

... .. . . .. this all continues for another 20 to 30 minutes, with DM basically cornering them and talking and talking with no breaks in the conversation where they can move along and either meet the other provisioners or just leave the office - they've obviously just come for a pop-by-meet-and-greet - a practice all too sickeningly common in the telecom world.
DM somehow manages to cover the following topics: cats. cats with cancer. other sick animals she's taken care of. the animals of friends of hers who need temporary or permanent boarding. her daughter. her daughter missing endless amounts of school. her daughter being a slacker all through high school. her daughter's promiscuity with ever-changing boyfriends who DM can not keep track of. her husband. her husband being a loser. I am actually Very suprised that she does Not mention her husband being a raging alcoholic and how he gashed a huge hole in his back by falling into a speaker two days ago. I guess some things are sacred. (he actually called yesterday morning and accusingly quized DM as to why he had a huge cut on his back and did she do something to him like cut him or beat him with something). It's getting .... pretty sad, actually. I .. wish I didn't have to hear all of it but due to our proximity, everyone in this office is basically subjected to a forced voyeurism... or .. auyerism? is that a word? audio voyeur?

Overheard's Who's Sick? and 'Sightings'

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More Overheard
DM leaving voicemail for her daughter: "I have to stay late at work, so have your boyfriend pick you up" [click - hangs up, then says] "whoever he may be this week"
DM leaving voicemail for her daughter: "Lauren, you had BETTER be at school right now. Swear to god, if you are asleep......" [click]
DM to daughter: "Lauren... Lauren. stop screaming. Lauren.. I'm not listening.. Lauren... Lauren... ...Lauren. stop screaming. Lauren. Lauren. Because I told him to. Why? because YOU NEED TO BE IN SCHOOL. I -told- him to wake you. Yes. I did."
DM leaving voicemail for her daughter: "Lauren, you had BETTER be in school"
DM to daughter: "Lauren... WHY are you NOT in school? No, that was not a reason the past 100 times you told me it, it's not now. We're gonna have a talk when I get home"
DM leaving voicemail for her daughter: "Lauren.. oh Lauren, you had BETTER be in school. Swear to god I'm gonna have words for you if you are not." [hangs up, then says] "swear to god.. I swear, I will kill that girl"
DM to husband: "Dave. stop your crying, you baby. He wants to borrow your car, he's not asking for a kidney. Then tell him NO. you're hysterical Dave. Dave, calm down. Tell him No if you dont want him to borrow it. Dave... Dave, I'm not having this conversation with you."
DM leaving voicemail for her daughter: "you had better call me back. If you dont call me back, I'm going to assume you're not at school."

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Who??? What? Huh?
Sadly, DM's cat has cancer. From the 20 or so conversations about it that I've heard so far, it turns out her vet gave the cat it's first rabies shot, years ago, in "deep muscle tissue" instead of "just under the skin" and this new diagnosing vet has told her that sometimes that causes the rabies vaccine to "fester and become cancer". I honestly have no idea if that's true or not, but she is convinced to the point where "if I ever see that vet again, I am going to kick his ass, swear to god, I am going to. He wont know what hit him"
The almost-funny part of this story is that for the first 7 or so times she talked about it on the phone, I could have sworn she was talking about her husband. And that he was in surgery and possibly, was going to have to have his "arm" removed because of it. WHAT??!! Oh, AND that he had a "20% chance of survival". Ok, they're possibly removing your husband's arm... and he has a 20% chance of survival... and you're sitting here at work talking about it??!!?
The good news is that cat (and husband) are doing fine. Amputation was not necessary and everyone is recovering nicely. Lauren however, has missed another day of school.

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Sightings:
+ Saw Lindsay Lohan outside of the 1/9 Christopher Street station. I do believe I saw her moments after her paparazzi-famous ankle twist accident. She didn't look nearly as good in person, all dolled up, Upper East Side style. Beautiful in Mean Girls and hosting SNL... not so lovely looking like daughter-to-daddy-war-bucks.
+ Saw the redhead from Sex In The City on 14th, Union Square. Blue baseball cap, North Face jacket - very nondescript, but still seemingly wanting to be noticed. I think she smiled a bit, thankful when I did a double-take, wondering if it was really her.
+ Saw Patti Smith finally, at my mailbox / PO box / mafia hang out. She's # 253, I'm 263. I always think her packages are mine. Still haven't seen Ad Rock of the Beastie Boys, Teri Hatcher or Sarah Jessica Parker, though I do see her packages all the time (SJParker-package sightings!!)
+ Saw the Olson twins near Washington Square Park. I didn't actually see it happen, but I imagined children starting to cry as they passed. And flowers wilting.

Football's Fabulous Females

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http://www.raiders.com/raiderettes/appearances.jsp

let's see, if we all chip in.......
it would still be like drumrolling the Delete button on your bank account.
....and ok, fine. it'd be like going to the softest-core christian stripper camp you could imagine.
and OK already.. there'd be ABSOLUTELY no stripping.
and YA, I GET IT ALREADY, we'd have to pay for airfare, airport/hotel/event transportation, hotel accommodations, and meals. Not to mention a skirted table or booth with chairs and a sound system, with a CD player. - Oh, and "Please provide water."
AND what the hell? each one must receive a 30-minute paid meal break and two ten (10) minute rest periods????? what, they EAT, TOO??
-AND- we've gotta supply parking and a secure area for their belongings???
Oh wait, here we go: Please escort the Raiderettes to and from their cars for added security. OHHHWW YEEEAAAAHHhhh.... NOW we're talkin'....
wait, what are we talking about?

Reimbursement for incurred parking fees is required at time of event.
- Oh FOR CHRIS'SAKES!! FORGET IT! THAT is just RIDICULOUS!! We will NEVER reimburse for incurred parking fees AT TIME OF EVENT, what kind of idiots do you think we are???

[my comments inserted] MORE ON “Football’s Fabulous Females”:
The Raiderettes, “Football’s Fabulous Females”, are known for their terrific performances on the sidelines [terrific means bouncy, right?] but do you know why they are so ‘fabulous’? [it's not the bouncy thing?] These beautiful [a few maybe], personable [huh?] and energetic [ok] ladies make over 300 appearances throughout the year at corporate, community and charity events. [fact: NFL cheerleaders do not get paid by their team. this is the only way they make money for being cheerleaders] They are wonderful working with children [what? horny children?] and the elderly [horny elderly?] bringing warmth, [ahem] caring [bouncy caring?] and fun [ahem] to everyone they meet [who is male]. As ambassadors for the Raiders [sorry, were they nominated by committee or appointed by the President?], they are dynamic representatives [dynamic means bouncy, right?] of our community reaching out to bring people together. [so now they're missionaries? insert missionary joke here] People from all walks of life [who are male] who meet the Raiderettes say they are simply…fabulous! [I'm sorry, did gay men added the 'fabulous' part]
The Raiderettes are the most widely recognized professional cheerleaders in the league. [take THAT Cowboy cheerleaders!!] The exciting Raiderette image [things that... things that are bouncy!!] extends from local communities, to cities throughout California and many other states [how many others? DETAILS people!] and international venues as well. [right.] From entertainment at a convention or expo, to raising funds for a worthy cause, the Raiderettes will help make any event a fabulous success! [seriously? that sounds like a promise.]
The following information is designed to assist [assist means forward to the FBI, right?] you in making a request to include the Oakland Raiderettes in your upcoming event or program. Each request will receive fair [they're nothing if not fair] and consistent consideration [I have no idea what that means] and will be confirmed based on availability and team policies. Please note that submitting a request does not guarantee an appearance. [I dont understand. Where ARE those Raiderettes?? the 2005 Fat Guy Nudist Convention needs to get started RIGHT!]
All requests must be submitted in writing [there goes half your audience] using the Appearance Request Form. [I request a SEXY appearance!] Requests should be received at least three (3) weeks [three 3? is that thirty three weeks or six?] prior to the event. Please furnish as much detail as possible. [pictures of your penis, optional] Please allow 5–7 business days to receive a written response to your request. [and then please allow the rest of your life to recover from the fact that you tried to pay the Raiderettes to show up somewhere... and were denied]

Iran films, more zombies, hot wings

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I'm going to see these two films next Tuesday, check them out if they play in your town:
--Nusrat: A Voice from Heaven 2000. Giuseppe Asaro. 78 min. English. Nusrat brings us the greatest modern interpreter of mystical Qawwali music, the late Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. What emerges, through interviews with Nusrat himself, and with the musicians who helped bring his work to Western audiences, is more than just the portrait of one man. Nusrat is also a probing exploration of the philosophy underlying the Sufi music of Pakistan. A performance by Nusrat’s son, Rahat provides eloquent testimonial to the endurance of that legacy.
--The Voice of Iran: Mohammad Reza Shajarian 2002. Christian Braad Thomsen. 98 min. U.S. Premier! A spotlight on the great classical singer Mohammad Reza Shajarian, whose music reaches 800 years back into Persian history. Shajarian is a master of improvised ornament, whose deeply rooted spirituality, and sensitivity to the mood of the moment, creates music of astounding beauty. To be in Shajarian’s audience is to be transported back to Persian courts of old, ruled once more by the wit and poignance of the greatest Iranian poets – Rumi, Sadi and Hafez. Between songs, Shajarian talks about his inspiration, explains the meaning of the songs and discusses the poets behind them.

In the spirit of Easter, DO NOT see this film (warning, this may be the most sacreligious thing you'll wish you never looked at) . My friends, they know I love the zombies so....

Yet another reason to come to New York.

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sometimes, I think I think too much about food:
++ I just typed this in an IM to Elizabeth: do they have sushi boats [restaraunts] in seattle? i still haven't found any here. and i've broadened my search to all the boroughs even. what the F? how could over 12 million people NOT know the importance of food that FLOATS in front of you!
++ In preparation for some Atomic [hot] Wings tonight, I just typed this sentence in an IM to my roommate: must get lunch to suitably prepare stomach for maximum hot wing attack. [air raid sirens!] Maximum Hot Wing Attack Comencing!! Ya. ok. I love hot wings. almost as much as zombies love brains.
++ I'm also price comparison shopping Nutella prices at various stores in the area. 'Cause, you know.. if I spend an extra 40 cents for Nutella, it wont taste as good, I guess.

neck cricks ...

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I have a neck crick. Ya. it sucks bigtime. it's not the cant-turn-left-or-right kind, it's the cant-tilt-head-back kind. it's not even massage-able, it feels like it's been alien-implanted directly into the vertebrae of my spine.

my friend Johanna theorized that maybe neck cricks suck more than ..say, injured legs 'cause it's closer to the head ...
to which, in my usual genius observation style, I said:
i know whatcha mean.. the neck being closer to the head & all but i also get the impression it has something to do with old caveman tendencies, like if i had to fight a bear right now? i couldn't. i would totally get eaten by a bear.

- it may just be my genius mental delivery that makes that so kick-ass awesome. orrrrr I may have struck on the fact that getting eaten by a bear is hilarious.
---- who knew?

OVERHEARD (for the DMChronicles)
+ Louise, hellllo! what do you think?? my daughter doesn't go on booty calls??? HELLO?!??! Hi, I'm not stupid!

two cover letters for jobs

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I've been going through some past emails, looking for examples of my absolute unrivalled genius and maybe some inspiration for more writings. Needless to say, it's all amazing, but I'll be including a piece here & there going forward.

I wish I still had the link to the writing job listing 'cause it was hilarious. Which is why I sent them the following... They tongue-in-cheek said they were seeking well travelled, career driven freaks into ladder climbing and monosyllabic writing.


Hi Hello...

I should start off by saying that I'm not career-driven nor freakish in my ladder climbing, so that would make me 0 for 2 however, I -would- love to write for Gawker Media's urban travel blog, Gridskipper. As proof of my mastery of monosyllabic communication, take this: I write well, you will see. and this: Well is how I write, uh-huh. and some of this: I am so the one who writes well, you dont even know. You're blown away, aren't you? It's ok, I have that effect on people. I travel, I will admit, moderately. If paid to travel, I travel on command. Faster, even. I am ridiculously urban obsessed to the point of stalking urbanity in only a raincoat. I not only work in my pajamas, I sleep in them - among other things I might or might not do in pajamas. I know my way around the web like I know the palm of my hand... and trust me, I kno... ahem.. ya.
My style is unorthodox but definitely has a voice. Or so I've been told. Which could useful to your site. Or not. Sadly, I lack professional experience but with a good editor, I believe I could
serve your slave needs quite well.

A few urban pieces from my blog:
- [sent them a link to some of my preferred journal entries]

they're all a bit antiseptic so as not to greatly offend parents and relatives but I can most certainly drop the self-editing, if needed.

Let me know what you think....
-Kory Dayani

strange, but I never heard back.
(still, it was fun typing that up)

Here's another cover letter I wrote. Really, whether it's successful or not, I highly recommend doing the absolute-honesty-approach from time to time. You feel so much better about yourself having done it:

Hello there...

I am interested in being a part of the 1iota team, it's true. Depending on the position(s) available, that is. Can you let me know what is? available, I mean.

I've attached my resume but feel free to delete it without reviewing it and simply know that I will be perfect for the job you're trying to fill. Because I will. You dont even know. But I'll show
you. Ohw ya. I went to school for documentary film, using an American Studies major as a vehicle to learn film skills... so it of course makes sense that I've been working in the telecommunications world for the past 7 years.

If I made you smile at all with any of the above, it was worth not kissing ass with a boring emailed cover letter.
-Kory-

Real world Raider Shouldering / FJ & HB's webpages

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Various Random Things to Think About While Thinking About Things:

*Raider shoulders arent just for shouldering:
http://tinyurl.com/69oaa
- it's going to make you log in to view the article, enter freenyt as both username and password.

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*Flapjack and Hambone designed webpages for themselves while I was at work. They are flippin' LIARS, I tell you. but good ones, I guess.
Flapjack's webpage - http://www.catster.com/?118147
Hambone's webpage - http://www.catster.com/?118152

-- That's all. I seem to not be in much of a writing mood lately. One of my phases, I reckon.

snow/ice, DavidCross, zombies, nutella, the Gates

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A few things about things:
+ I haven't written for a while.
+ We had another great blizzard on Monday. a total white-out. At least I think it was a white out. It was white ... out. that makes it a white-out, I think. I was in heaven, everyone else was in hell. chilly hell. Honestly, there were moments that even -I- did not enjoy it. Mostly those moments centered around ultra-miniature icicles slamming into my face and eyeballs at 55 miles per hour.
+ I slipped and fell on the ice. finally. My first time this season. In front of a girl I was on a date with, even! Wow, that was awesome. To make it even better, I spilled a full glass of wine all over myself. "All" over, you ask? yes. "all". Actually, it was pretty hilarious. I really dont think I got a single drop anywhere except on my jacket and pants. It turns out that the snowfall on my roof melts slightly during the day then freezes at night. If it were thicker, we'd have a rooftop ice rink.
+ David Cross' cd made me cry laughing last night. I dare you not to do the same listening to it.
+ I've recently come to terms with the fact that I love zombie movies. A lot. They're hilarious, they're not at all scary, they're entertaining and they're formulaic to a T. In the past year I've seen (in order of awesomeness): Shaun of the Dead, Dawn of the Dead (remake of the 1978 classic), 28 Days Later, Resident Evil and Resident Evil 2 - if you only see one of the above, see Shaun of the Dead - it is abso-f'n-lutely hilarious.
+ I bought a sandwich press. And I am pressing sandwiches like nobody's business. Savory, sweet - whatever. It can make two sandwiches at a time, it presses them, sealing the edges and crosssecting them into little triangle sandwiches. I wont even describe the savory ones 'cause I make them so often and with widely varying ingredients (usually involving at least: carmelized onion, roasted red pepper, one type of white cheese (mozzerella, parmesan, feta, gruyere, etc)) but the sweet ones... or sweet ONE I should say is... hold on, I just started drooling (see next item)
+ I have discovered Nutella. Not 'discovered' like Marie Curie and her experiments with radiation... more like .. Christopher Columbus 'discovery' of a land already inhabitted by a race of people. Except that I wont be claiming Nutella for Spain. I -will- be claiming Nutella to be delicious. Because it is. And a curious thing has happened... I had previously never really understood people's fascination with chocolate. I could always take it or leave it (usually leaving it) and never understood that mental "click" that happens, that starry-eyed, eyes-rolling-back-in-your-head kind of tasty-goodness-pleasure that I've experienced with, say... a perfectly ripe kiwi or a great piece of dehydrated mango, where they hit all the right buttons in your mouth and send you into a moment of exctasy. Nutella pressed sandwiches are now added to the list. I put a half of a banana, sliced thin in between the two Nutella'd pieces of bread and press the sandwich for 5-6 minutes but banana isn't necessary to get the Nutella-goodness. Nutella, where have you been all my life?
+ The Gates were pretty cool. I guess. Mostly, it was a spectacle of artsy-fartsy artists with too much money getting to do what they want, where they want. Which in a strange way, I kind of respect. And in another very real way, I dont respect. Like when I was walking through Central Park and I saw the "Christos" (even though it's Christo (M) and Jean-Claude (F)) driving around the park, waving at people like they were the friggin' King and Queen. I overheard the red-haired-freaky-lady say that they'd driven the full 23 miles of curtains 26 times. That's 26 laps of ego-stroking. Sadly, I could not flip them off in time and they drove away, very much un-flipped off.

Snow pics

JOURNAL / BLOG ENTRY
Snow, glorious snow..... and Pictures of... finally. These were from the last blizzard/snowstorm we had but they could just as easily be applied to this on we had the past few days.

¤ mouse over the images to see descriptions
¤ click on the images to see the full size pic

NY Journal # 27

Wednesday, February 09, 2005
JOURNAL ENTRY
as I exited from the South Ferry station this morning, I thought this: Yikes, What an unfortunate birth mark on that guy... ...and wooah, wait... someone ELSE with a birthmark in the same place?? what are the odds? they must... be related, I guess. jeez, right in the middle of the forehead, even... that's gotta suck. what the..?!? no way... ANOTHER person with the same... Ohhhhhh...... wait. it's Wednesday, isn't it? Ash Wednesday.
Ya. I hadn't had coffee yet. In pre-caffinated states, 2 + 2 sometimes equals "something-more-than-3-i-think"

Is Ash Wednesday even observed anywhere else? I think I've seen a grand total of 5 people in my life, outside of NYC, with the ash mark on their forehead. Seriously... what is it with NYers that they're all Catholic-holiday-observant? It seems more like that once a year blind obligation of paying taxes than it does any kind of devout adherence to religion. Catholics, Jews, whatever - everyone just seems way more into the calendarized formalities of their religion here. I think it's awesome. These are the things us agnostics and athiests are often jealous of. Everyone's familiar with the stereotype that Jews envy Christmas, but for those opting for faith in the demonstratable, we miss out. Then again, maybe a big ash mark on your forehead isn't really something to envy.


Thursday, February 10, 2005
JOURNAL / BLOG ENTRY
Overheard things D.M. has said lately:
(actually - I should mention that over the past few weeks, I've grown to really like DM 'cause she's hilarious-by-accident, her NY accent is "un-fuggin-be-lieeev-able", she's shockingly generous in that New Yorker kinda way, but mostly I've gained oodles of respect for her because she is the ringmaster of the scariest freakshow house full of malcontents you would ever be misfortunate enough to meet (a totally irresponsible, constantly rebounding alcoholic husband and a rebellious, back-talking daughter who, and this is just a guess, is a very thin condom away from pregnancy. - and of course... 6 cats)

- [on the phone] my cousin just told me about a great wine she just had... she said it's a fruity red wine [pause] No, it's not sangria....
- [on the phone] ya, they threw Lauren (DM's daughter) off the bus today [pause] because her MetroCard was empty. [pause] ya, well they did. [pause] I'm telling you, they Did. [pause] her MetroCard ran out. [pause] yes. it ran out.. they've done it to her twice already. [pause] what did i just tell you? Her MetroCard Ran Out. [pause] ya [pause] it ran out, she said.
- [to me] I love mythology... it's everywhere in ... like, our world today... [pauses, thinks] ... like Poseidon... like they name ships after him. or Hermes, you know.. the FTD logo? THAT's Hermes.
- [to me] my daughter had this guy friend years ago, you know, they're in school and such... this guy is failing his mythology class or whateva.. I sit him down, I say... watch this [makes motion signifying pushing a VHS tape into player] ... I turn it on, he starts watchin'... boom... all of a sudden, he knows all the gods of mythology! He's like "thank you, oh my god, i would have totally failed that class!" it made me feel great. [I ask what movies she gave him to watch - she gets pensive look, stares at floor trying to remember... i know.. I KNOW she is going to say Clash of the Titans, but I dont want to believe it... i then ask:] "...Clash of the Titans?" [she gets Eureka!-look on her face, points at me forcefully] That's IT!! That's the one!! what else..? i dunno... Jason and the Argonauts? things like that, you know.



Wednesday, February 16, 2005
JOURNAL / BLOG ENTRY
I thought this only happened in commercials.....
Oh, the gods, why. Why? Sick. again... a cold, or flu maybe? Why cant I ever tell which type of sickness I have? All I ever know is that I get shivers, a fever, stuffed up and miserable. No, this is not what happens in commercials.. although, of course it does.. but that's not what I'm talking about.
Friday, I was set to fly out to Irvine for a memorial service for my mom. Or, about my mom. Or in commemoration of my mom. My dad has arranged the ticket with his frequent flyer miles so everything was set. For the first time, maybe ever, I had packed appropriately. Two days worth of clothes, a book and my first ever book on tape (though it was actually a 3 cd set). I was sick as hell but prepared to ride out the misery in coach, hopefully unbeknownst to my fellow passengers and then, family and friends on the California side. I got out of work at 3pm, walked up to the A train, rode it with delirium to the Air-Train at Howard Beach and boarded that for JFK. I sat on the train, half asleep, thinking about how much I hate connecting flights. There's not an 'arrival' to look forward to, it feels like there's only more travel. As we approached JFK, I figured I should double check that I would be flying on American Airlines and perhaps the print out I had brought might even list the gate I should be going to. I unfolded the paper, turned it right side up to view it, and promptly saw, right next to the date, the letters "L" "G" "A". 'odd, my returning flight must be coming back to LaGuardia' - read it. d-e-p-a-r-t-i-n-g. Under "departing". Departing flight FROM LaGuardia TO Chicago TO Irvine. 'wait.. I'm sick, my eyes may be messing with me'. LGA. no. please no. 'ok wait... close your eyes... open them.. it'll say JFK.. it will, really'. LGA. great. this is... so so soooo something that would happen to me. Time: 4:17pm Flight time: 5:00pm departing from .... check again.... yep, LGA.
I get into the American Airlines line, hoping they'll be able to get me to Chicago in time for the connecting flight. The line is 30 people deep. I talk to the first ID-screener person standing in the lines, who checks to schedule to see what flights are going to Chicago or LA. the earliest departure is a 6pm flight going to Chicago which will not put me there in time for the connecting flight, and an 8pm flight to LA that might be sold out or an available 10pm flight. I call my dad from the line. How do you explain such a thing? How do you possibly justify not looking at the print-out BEFORE going TO the airport? (these would the same questions that answer why it's taken me almost a week to write about it). I somehow explain to my dad what happened and mention my cold/flu which I know as I'm saying it, is a really weak rationalization for why I've gone to the wrong airport. My dad, somewhat in shock, suggests I see what arrangements can be made by the airline but suggests that since I'm sick, if I want to cancel the trip, that it's ok. I tell him thanks, but I'll see what I can do and call him back. I wait in the line. I inch my way forward in the line. It's getting later and later. I feel no better. None. I still cant believe I'm at the wrong airport. I call my dad back. I feel very small. Smaller than a bread box. Smaller than a mouse in a bread box. Smaller than the bread the mouse who's in the breadbox ate. Maybe smaller. I tell him what the lady told me and begrudgingly ask if it's ok if I take him up on the offer to not go. I feel like an ass. I cant believe I'm not going. I know I need to be there for this memorial. this absolutely sucks, I feel like I'm letting everyone down. My dad says it's ok, but I dont feel absolved. I am guilt incarnate.
I leave the airport. I get on the Air-Train. I leave the Air-Train. I get on the A train. I leave the A train. I get to my door, I open the door. Flapjack is staring at me. As if he knows. He gives me that look. He knows. I know he knows.
I swear,... I really thought that only happened in commercials.



Tuesday, March 01, 2005
JOURNAL / BLOG ENTRY
Snow, glorious snow..... and Pictures of... finally. These were from the last blizzard / snowstorm we had but they could just as easily be applied to this one we had the past few days.

¤ mouse over the images to see descriptions
¤ click on the images to see the full size pic