About once a day, I decide that every single one of us is going to lose his or her job, and then I have to put my head between my knees and hyperventilate until I'm OK again. It takes about an hour, and I've been trying to schedule it for lunch, so that I don't lose productivity (unadvisable, when you're already freaking out about the economy.)
Part of the problem is that I never really recovered from being laid off in 2000. I worked at a startup that stopped after a glorious six month run. We had free breakfast every day, massage therapists once a week, drinks after work most nights ... and no business plan. Truly, it was bread and circus time in Dotcommia.
What's going on right now is a little different, although I don't love the idea of a panic caused by unregulated banking. It seems, you know, familiar somehow. Like when my grandfather used to tell me stories about living for a month on eggplants that his neighbor grew in the window box. You know, like that.
The other day I IMed Moss to ask him if everyone we know was going to get laid off, and he said no, we were not going to get laid off, and in fact we were all going to get laid. Moss is an optimist and a hedonist. Possibly the best combination of traits ever.
In completely unrelated news, tonight is stay in and be lazy night here in the Hubley household, and I'm watching possibly the crappiest ghost hunting reality TV show ever. It's called Ghost Adventures, I believe, and this one guy is no word of a lie begging ghosts to punch him in the head as he meanders around this old insane asylum. If I were the camera man, I would take advantage of being the only person with night vision and whack this nerdlinger with a walkie-talkie. However, I've been under a lot of stress, so please keep that in mind.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Oh Wow
I'm watching Gossip Girl, and I just realized that I'm closer to the parents' age than the kids. Yikes!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
I Make the Rules, but Then I Break Them
My friend Rick claims that the secret to dating successfully is to decide what it is that you want, and then stick to it. Don't make exceptions. People get into trouble when they start second-guessing themselves.
With that in mind, I set an age limit for myself. 28 was absolutely the youngest guy I would allow myself to date. And then a 25-year-old marine wrote to me on Match.com, and I decided that rules were made to be broken.
I'm sure Rick is right, but I bet I'm having more fun.
With that in mind, I set an age limit for myself. 28 was absolutely the youngest guy I would allow myself to date. And then a 25-year-old marine wrote to me on Match.com, and I decided that rules were made to be broken.
I'm sure Rick is right, but I bet I'm having more fun.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
What I've Learned From Online Dating
As you know, I'm doing the Match.com currently. This is not a terribly new or exciting thing, and is pretty much my go-to when I'm not already dating someone and am too busy to go out every night of the week. I'm having a lot more fun this time around, though, and I think it's because I've finally figured out how to think of this online dating thing. And for this, of course, I must thank teh gayz. Watching my dudes endlessly troll Manhunt has shown me that it's a numbers game, and you have to keep on going until you find what you're looking for. (Whatever that might be. Put it this way: My goals are lot less interesting and pornographic.)
In addition, I have learned:
1) Everyone is crazy, especially after dating in New York for a few years. I've had guys start out by asking me point-blank if I could see myself in a relationship with them. I've also had a dude tell me that he would have been a priest, if he didn't enjoy "keeessing and tooouching" so much. I held my tongue. I grew up in Boston. I know which jokes you're not allowed to make.
2) The less serious you are about the whole thing, the more fun you have. And when I say "serious," I mean "desperate." At the moment, my desperation levels are quite low (as opposed to, say, three months ago when they were at Defcon 1, but that's another story.) Therefore, I'm having more fun.
3) If someone says he only has eight fingers, it's not a joke. He only has eight fingers. You're also not allowed to stare at them while he lifts his pint.
4) Not everyone thinks I'm funny. I know! I couldn't believe it either.
5) Half of the people who say they don't smoke, smoke. All of the people who say they smoke occasionally smoke all the time. The people who are "trying to quit" have cut back to two packs a day.
I'm going to keep track of this stuff, I think. I sense that I could do the world some good here.
In addition, I have learned:
1) Everyone is crazy, especially after dating in New York for a few years. I've had guys start out by asking me point-blank if I could see myself in a relationship with them. I've also had a dude tell me that he would have been a priest, if he didn't enjoy "keeessing and tooouching" so much. I held my tongue. I grew up in Boston. I know which jokes you're not allowed to make.
2) The less serious you are about the whole thing, the more fun you have. And when I say "serious," I mean "desperate." At the moment, my desperation levels are quite low (as opposed to, say, three months ago when they were at Defcon 1, but that's another story.) Therefore, I'm having more fun.
3) If someone says he only has eight fingers, it's not a joke. He only has eight fingers. You're also not allowed to stare at them while he lifts his pint.
4) Not everyone thinks I'm funny. I know! I couldn't believe it either.
5) Half of the people who say they don't smoke, smoke. All of the people who say they smoke occasionally smoke all the time. The people who are "trying to quit" have cut back to two packs a day.
I'm going to keep track of this stuff, I think. I sense that I could do the world some good here.
Friday, November 14, 2008
No Such Thing as a Free Lunch
Or spa treatment.
Yesterday, a bunch of folks came to our office to give free mini-spa treatments and not incidentally, plug the full-length dealies at their salon. This is totally fine, and a kind of ingenious way to drum up business during a recession, except for one lady who totally did my least favorite upselling technique: the spa neg.
She was giving hand massages, something that I was particularly looking forward to, as my chubby little toddler paws are always bound up in knots, thanks to the whole typing all day thing. I sat down and picked out a super-smelly lotion, and then she rubbed my hands for a couple minutes, talking about the spa's other services all the while.
This was not totally relaxing. Less relaxing still?
"We also have facials," she said, at one point in her patter.
"Oh, those are nice," I said. In reality, I'm not a big fan. I feel like my face looks better with the gunk in it than with all that crap taken out. After the extractions, my pores look like moon craters and my skin usually has all the delightful texture of a boiled potato. I'll keep my dirt, thanks.
"Yes. Lovely facials."
"Mmm-hmm."
I must not have seemed receptive, because she just spelled it out for me: "YOU SHOULD COME AND GET A FACIAL."
Apparently, not everyone likes my pores the way they are.
Yesterday, a bunch of folks came to our office to give free mini-spa treatments and not incidentally, plug the full-length dealies at their salon. This is totally fine, and a kind of ingenious way to drum up business during a recession, except for one lady who totally did my least favorite upselling technique: the spa neg.
She was giving hand massages, something that I was particularly looking forward to, as my chubby little toddler paws are always bound up in knots, thanks to the whole typing all day thing. I sat down and picked out a super-smelly lotion, and then she rubbed my hands for a couple minutes, talking about the spa's other services all the while.
This was not totally relaxing. Less relaxing still?
"We also have facials," she said, at one point in her patter.
"Oh, those are nice," I said. In reality, I'm not a big fan. I feel like my face looks better with the gunk in it than with all that crap taken out. After the extractions, my pores look like moon craters and my skin usually has all the delightful texture of a boiled potato. I'll keep my dirt, thanks.
"Yes. Lovely facials."
"Mmm-hmm."
I must not have seemed receptive, because she just spelled it out for me: "YOU SHOULD COME AND GET A FACIAL."
Apparently, not everyone likes my pores the way they are.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
At the Bar
This is the most accurate picture of me in years:
Artwork by J. Longo (aka X-eyed drunk on the left.)
Artwork by J. Longo (aka X-eyed drunk on the left.)
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
When People Ask How I Became a Yoga Addict, This Is What I Will Tell Them
Short version: Because I was crazy. Long version: Because I was crazy and living in a city full of crazies. And all of us crazies think our drama is terribly important. Which only leads to more crazy.
I was thinking about this today, because I did yoga this morning and, as usual, had a mild panic attack during camel pose. This is apparently not uncommon. Camel pose opens up your chest in a way we're not used to, especially if the "we" in question types for a living. But also, it releases all kinds of weird stored up emotions.
Today, doing my poor man's version of camel pose (which probably looked to a casual observer like a normal person sitting up straight) I felt weirdly heart-broken and anxious, like I was about to lose my job or get broken up with or be forced to move out of my house. If you believe in this stuff, and of course I do, the emotions you feel during poses are emotions that your body has stored up.
So apparently, my body remembers all kinds of things my mind forgets. Maybe I should buy it some chocolates or something. Or keep doing camel pose until my body cries itself out.
I was thinking about this today, because I did yoga this morning and, as usual, had a mild panic attack during camel pose. This is apparently not uncommon. Camel pose opens up your chest in a way we're not used to, especially if the "we" in question types for a living. But also, it releases all kinds of weird stored up emotions.
Today, doing my poor man's version of camel pose (which probably looked to a casual observer like a normal person sitting up straight) I felt weirdly heart-broken and anxious, like I was about to lose my job or get broken up with or be forced to move out of my house. If you believe in this stuff, and of course I do, the emotions you feel during poses are emotions that your body has stored up.
So apparently, my body remembers all kinds of things my mind forgets. Maybe I should buy it some chocolates or something. Or keep doing camel pose until my body cries itself out.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Seinfeld-esque Post: "What's With the [Blank]?"
In this case, what is it with people and the phone? I've been doing Match.com lately and so far, so good. A few guys, though, are totally in love with their phones and insistent on talking to me over them before we hang out. No offense, my very new friend, but I don't know you well enough yet to know if I want you to be able to ring me up at all hours of the day and night. That's why the email system has a double-blind dealie: So that if one of us decides that the other is crazy, we don't have to talk to each other anymore.
The other day, I was supposed to hang out with a Match.com dude, but had to cancel to go to a coworker's housewarming. I apologized, of course - although no creepy card this time - and suggested we hang out this week.
His email said, OK, I'm free Wednesday. Call me Tuesday at such and such a number; I'll be home at 7.
I wrote back and said, hey, why don't we just meet somewhere Wednesday, since we're both free.
He wrote back and said, OK, call me Wednesday and we'll figure out a place.
Do you suppose that he's had extremely bad luck with dating women who secretly sound like Minnie Mouse? By the way, I'm totally sure that right this very moment he's complaining to his internet friends about the crazy girl who won't use the phone. But I'll cop to that. I am that girl.
The other day, I was supposed to hang out with a Match.com dude, but had to cancel to go to a coworker's housewarming. I apologized, of course - although no creepy card this time - and suggested we hang out this week.
His email said, OK, I'm free Wednesday. Call me Tuesday at such and such a number; I'll be home at 7.
I wrote back and said, hey, why don't we just meet somewhere Wednesday, since we're both free.
He wrote back and said, OK, call me Wednesday and we'll figure out a place.
Do you suppose that he's had extremely bad luck with dating women who secretly sound like Minnie Mouse? By the way, I'm totally sure that right this very moment he's complaining to his internet friends about the crazy girl who won't use the phone. But I'll cop to that. I am that girl.
PSA: It's a Full Moon, Yo
Everyone is completely crackers today. My landlord just called me up to tell me that my cleaning person left the cardboard boxes unsorted - UNSORTED! IN PARK SLOPE! - in the neighbor's yard, and then left the front door unlocked. All of which is totally anger-making and I get that, but:
1) He called when I was having possibly the finest nap I've had in years.
2) He told me each of the cleaning woman's crimes exactly twice, and would have told me three times, except that I cut him off by promising to monitor her closely in the future. Poor thing.
I am an adult, however, so I sent him a nice note apologizing for the inconvenience. The fact that I chose the blank card with the child's drawing of a differently-abled dj with ginormous headphones means nothing at all, and certainly isn't passive aggressive in the slightest. It could have been the clown. No one wants the clown.
1) He called when I was having possibly the finest nap I've had in years.
2) He told me each of the cleaning woman's crimes exactly twice, and would have told me three times, except that I cut him off by promising to monitor her closely in the future. Poor thing.
I am an adult, however, so I sent him a nice note apologizing for the inconvenience. The fact that I chose the blank card with the child's drawing of a differently-abled dj with ginormous headphones means nothing at all, and certainly isn't passive aggressive in the slightest. It could have been the clown. No one wants the clown.
And Take the Cat Away
Moss: I'm back!
me: hi hi hi!
how are you?
Moss: I'm good!
well, last night not so much
me: i was going to go do yoga, but instead i'm going to do noga
oh no
what happened?
Moss: my shoulder felt like it grew a 3rd head
NOGA!
me: WHY?
Moss: and then...
haven't been body tuning :(
and then...
me: oh crippety crap
Moss: i was doing bookkeeping - receipts / reimbursables for our big ass invoice
and L-1 visa paperwork for my boss
me: UGH
Moss: and my cat figured out a new spring board for the counter
so onto counter she spirits
followed by slide on the receipts
and into the glass of wine
me: OH NO
Moss: which tips over and crashes into a million pieces
which scares her
and she hightails it back off
knocking over bottle of wine onto my laptop
which i haven't yet returned to my old job
which then won't wortk
me: oh my god in heaven!
what is going ON?
Moss: which meant i couldn't do the next 3+ hours of work that i needed to do
me: christ in a bucket!
Moss: my roommate, who is obviously the smartest girl in the room...
excuses herself
goes to her room
and emerges with not one but TWO valium and pops them in my mouth
then cleans up
god bless her
me: HA
ok, i love her
LOVE
Moss: it was the most comic scene ever
right?
me: that's perfect
Moss: and Sam lived to see another day
me: that is exactly what was required
Moss: lucky kitty
me: yes
i notice when she's bad, she become THE CAT
not sam
THE CAT
Moss: LOL
yes
me: THE CAT has fucked things up!
i wish sam would come back
and take THE CAT away
me: hi hi hi!
how are you?
Moss: I'm good!
well, last night not so much
me: i was going to go do yoga, but instead i'm going to do noga
oh no
what happened?
Moss: my shoulder felt like it grew a 3rd head
NOGA!
me: WHY?
Moss: and then...
haven't been body tuning :(
and then...
me: oh crippety crap
Moss: i was doing bookkeeping - receipts / reimbursables for our big ass invoice
and L-1 visa paperwork for my boss
me: UGH
Moss: and my cat figured out a new spring board for the counter
so onto counter she spirits
followed by slide on the receipts
and into the glass of wine
me: OH NO
Moss: which tips over and crashes into a million pieces
which scares her
and she hightails it back off
knocking over bottle of wine onto my laptop
which i haven't yet returned to my old job
which then won't wortk
me: oh my god in heaven!
what is going ON?
Moss: which meant i couldn't do the next 3+ hours of work that i needed to do
me: christ in a bucket!
Moss: my roommate, who is obviously the smartest girl in the room...
excuses herself
goes to her room
and emerges with not one but TWO valium and pops them in my mouth
then cleans up
god bless her
me: HA
ok, i love her
LOVE
Moss: it was the most comic scene ever
right?
me: that's perfect
Moss: and Sam lived to see another day
me: that is exactly what was required
Moss: lucky kitty
me: yes
i notice when she's bad, she become THE CAT
not sam
THE CAT
Moss: LOL
yes
me: THE CAT has fucked things up!
i wish sam would come back
and take THE CAT away
Monday, November 10, 2008
My Ugly Love, You Are a Messy Chesnut
Jennie Smash: hey, park sloper
Jennie Smash: is it safe for me to walk from my apt to stonehome in ft greene tonight?
Jennie Smash: or do i need to get a car?
Drunken Mouse: it is pretty safe
Jennie Smash: that's what i thought
Jennie Smash: and it's a nice walk
Jennie Smash: i have a match.com date
Drunken Mouse: walk straight down flatbush to bam
Jennie Smash: and i just realized that he's not smiling with teeth in this picture
Jennie Smash: do we think he's toothless?
Jennie Smash: i bet you five dollars he's toothless
Drunken Mouse: HA!
Drunken Mouse: no
Drunken Mouse: i hate smiling full teeth
Drunken Mouse: so i avoid it
Jennie Smash: ok, then
Jennie Smash: (i am calling you if he has no teeth)
Jennie Smash: is it safe for me to walk from my apt to stonehome in ft greene tonight?
Jennie Smash: or do i need to get a car?
Drunken Mouse: it is pretty safe
Jennie Smash: that's what i thought
Jennie Smash: and it's a nice walk
Jennie Smash: i have a match.com date
Drunken Mouse: walk straight down flatbush to bam
Jennie Smash: and i just realized that he's not smiling with teeth in this picture
Jennie Smash: do we think he's toothless?
Jennie Smash: i bet you five dollars he's toothless
Drunken Mouse: HA!
Drunken Mouse: no
Drunken Mouse: i hate smiling full teeth
Drunken Mouse: so i avoid it
Jennie Smash: ok, then
Jennie Smash: (i am calling you if he has no teeth)
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Bikram Yoga for the Already Sweaty
As I've mentioned previously on this here blog, I am a sweaty person. So probably the last thing I needed was to sign up for an exercise class that makes even normal people perspire freely. And yet, I decided to try the Bikram yoga that all the kids are doing, because I am a glutton for punishment.
Bikram, in case you don't know, is yoga for the criminally insane. You spend an hour and a half doing contortions in a 100-degree room, sweating and feeling like you're going to throw up. The room smells like balls, armpits, and feet. When you leave, you feel elated, mostly because you don't feel like you're going to vomit anymore, which is always nicer than feeling like you're going to vomit. (I think we can all agree to this.)
Today was my first class. I loved it, needless to say, and am going back tomorrow. My goal is to not have to spend 15 minutes of the class crouched on my mat, staring at my spread hands like an animal and trying not to barf.
Re: like an animal ... the instructor, who was very nice, let me sit and look green for as long as I needed to, but he did tell me to try to breathe through my nose. Apparently, if you breath through your mouth, your thoughts get scattered, like an animal, etc. and so on. No worries there. Thoughts already scattered, pal! Arf!
Bikram, in case you don't know, is yoga for the criminally insane. You spend an hour and a half doing contortions in a 100-degree room, sweating and feeling like you're going to throw up. The room smells like balls, armpits, and feet. When you leave, you feel elated, mostly because you don't feel like you're going to vomit anymore, which is always nicer than feeling like you're going to vomit. (I think we can all agree to this.)
Today was my first class. I loved it, needless to say, and am going back tomorrow. My goal is to not have to spend 15 minutes of the class crouched on my mat, staring at my spread hands like an animal and trying not to barf.
Re: like an animal ... the instructor, who was very nice, let me sit and look green for as long as I needed to, but he did tell me to try to breathe through my nose. Apparently, if you breath through your mouth, your thoughts get scattered, like an animal, etc. and so on. No worries there. Thoughts already scattered, pal! Arf!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Rainy Saturday
I'm watching crime shows, because that is clearly the only thing to do on a day like today. The current program is about a woman who murdered her sister, stole her identity, and stuffed her body in a freezer.
It's times like this when I'm really grateful to live in a small apartment. There is absolutely no way anyone could fit my body into my freezer. I can barely get a pint of ice cream in there.
It's times like this when I'm really grateful to live in a small apartment. There is absolutely no way anyone could fit my body into my freezer. I can barely get a pint of ice cream in there.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Looong Week
It's impossible to overstate how tired I am. Interesting stories tomorrow, when hopefully I will be able to think of more descriptive words than "interesting."
Thursday, November 6, 2008
The Puppy Tax
Lazy blogging, I know, but I've never gotten 18 comments on a Facebook status, and I am nerdily proud of it:
Status: Jen's new favorite thing is to say, "I cannot wait til Obama fixes _____." It works for everything!
Jen Hubley at 4:32pm November 6
For example, "I cannot wait until Obama makes there be more Diet Coke in the machine." Or: "I cannot wait until Obama makes beer that works as a diet aid." Etc.
Shannon at 4:32pm November 6
Seriously?
Jen Hubley at 4:34pm November 6
Think of it as some gentle self-satire. ;-)
Shannon at 4:34pm November 6
You are too funny (;
Julia at 4:37pm November 6
I cannot wait until Obama makes rainbows happen ev-er-y day!
Jen Hubley at 4:38pm November 6
I cannot wait until Obama buys a puppy, not just for his own kids, but for EVERY. SINGLE. ONE OF US.
Julia at 4:40pm November 6
That's totally socialism, lady. Redistribution of puppies is not cool.
Jen Hubley at 4:41pm November 6
I cannot wait until Obama takes puppies from people who have TOO MANY puppies, and gives them to those of us who have TOO FEW.
Julia at 4:43pm November 6
I earned my puppies. My right to own all my puppies is in the constitution. You'll have to pry my puppies out of my cold, dead hands.
Jen Hubley at 4:45pm November 6
FINE. Then we will tax your puppies. Prepare to pay the Puppy Tax!
Status: Jen's new favorite thing is to say, "I cannot wait til Obama fixes _____." It works for everything!
Jen Hubley at 4:32pm November 6
For example, "I cannot wait until Obama makes there be more Diet Coke in the machine." Or: "I cannot wait until Obama makes beer that works as a diet aid." Etc.
Shannon at 4:32pm November 6
Seriously?
Jen Hubley at 4:34pm November 6
Think of it as some gentle self-satire. ;-)
Shannon at 4:34pm November 6
You are too funny (;
Julia at 4:37pm November 6
I cannot wait until Obama makes rainbows happen ev-er-y day!
Jen Hubley at 4:38pm November 6
I cannot wait until Obama buys a puppy, not just for his own kids, but for EVERY. SINGLE. ONE OF US.
Julia at 4:40pm November 6
That's totally socialism, lady. Redistribution of puppies is not cool.
Jen Hubley at 4:41pm November 6
I cannot wait until Obama takes puppies from people who have TOO MANY puppies, and gives them to those of us who have TOO FEW.
Julia at 4:43pm November 6
I earned my puppies. My right to own all my puppies is in the constitution. You'll have to pry my puppies out of my cold, dead hands.
Jen Hubley at 4:45pm November 6
FINE. Then we will tax your puppies. Prepare to pay the Puppy Tax!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Dancing in the Streets
In the East Village, before the dude hopped on the roof of the East Harlem bus and started dancing, and after everyone showed up with pots and pans and started banging them together like happy toddlers.
Yes. WE DID!
We sent money. We made phone calls. We knocked on doors. We believed. We changed the world.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Tim Robbins Ain't the Only One Pissed off
Check it: Tom Robbins denied at the polls.
My voting machine was broken, and then it took 20 minutes to find a poll worker to man it once it was fixed. Also, the lady who was checking me off couldn't find the name "Hubley." She was looking in the K's.
"I think you'll find that it's in the H's," I told her.
She smiled at me. "You look so happy! Such a happy face!"
"Voting makes me smile. You're still, you see, in the K's."
"Can you spell that?"
"Yes. H-U-B ... 'B' as in 'boy'..."
Flip, flip, flip.
"See, you're still in the K section." Flip. Flip, flip. "Now we're in A's. I think you'll find it's after 'A,' but before 'K.' YES. There I am. Oh, great. HUBLOY. Close enough."
It does make you wonder. I mean, do they even have to steal an election? Seems to me it could just lose its way on its own.
My voting machine was broken, and then it took 20 minutes to find a poll worker to man it once it was fixed. Also, the lady who was checking me off couldn't find the name "Hubley." She was looking in the K's.
"I think you'll find that it's in the H's," I told her.
She smiled at me. "You look so happy! Such a happy face!"
"Voting makes me smile. You're still, you see, in the K's."
"Can you spell that?"
"Yes. H-U-B ... 'B' as in 'boy'..."
Flip, flip, flip.
"See, you're still in the K section." Flip. Flip, flip. "Now we're in A's. I think you'll find it's after 'A,' but before 'K.' YES. There I am. Oh, great. HUBLOY. Close enough."
It does make you wonder. I mean, do they even have to steal an election? Seems to me it could just lose its way on its own.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Good News, Bad News
1) I don't have a cracked tooth.
2) I don't have a giant tumor behind my eye.
3) I do have a sinus infection.
Of the three, the last option is probably best, but hoo boy, am I in pain. I'm blaming, at least partially, the stress of the last few days before the election. I seriously, seriously might not make it. I have no idea how Obama and McCain are anything but completely shattered with nerves. Perhaps this is why nervous little characters like me don't run for office.
But seriously, seriously, and I've never been more serious: I need good news, people. The past few months have been a whirlwind of broken hearts and minor physical ailments, and while none of that equals brain tumors or Darfur, I could still use a boost.
I have this theory, actually, that my sinuses will clear up immediately if Obama wins. If this happens, I will naturally lobby to have it declared a miracle by some church or other - the Church of Bob, if necessary.
2) I don't have a giant tumor behind my eye.
3) I do have a sinus infection.
Of the three, the last option is probably best, but hoo boy, am I in pain. I'm blaming, at least partially, the stress of the last few days before the election. I seriously, seriously might not make it. I have no idea how Obama and McCain are anything but completely shattered with nerves. Perhaps this is why nervous little characters like me don't run for office.
But seriously, seriously, and I've never been more serious: I need good news, people. The past few months have been a whirlwind of broken hearts and minor physical ailments, and while none of that equals brain tumors or Darfur, I could still use a boost.
I have this theory, actually, that my sinuses will clear up immediately if Obama wins. If this happens, I will naturally lobby to have it declared a miracle by some church or other - the Church of Bob, if necessary.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
In Which I Post Every Day, Yes Every Day, for a Whole ENtire Month
I'm doing NaBloPoMo. This is in place of NaNoWriMo, which I did last year, but is too much work for my lazy ass this year.
In order to be fully in the spirit of the thing, I waited til Sunday to commit to this proposition, and am backdating this entry. After the James Frey thing, we have only ourselves to blame if writers will insist on telling us every time they spin the smallest fib.
In order to be fully in the spirit of the thing, I waited til Sunday to commit to this proposition, and am backdating this entry. After the James Frey thing, we have only ourselves to blame if writers will insist on telling us every time they spin the smallest fib.
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