Where have I been? Well, realistically, I can’t imagine that anyone is really asking that because I haven’t written a single interesting thing online since I moved to Texas and my life began to revolve around the ups and downs (mostly downs) of my relationship. But I have nonetheless been absent, and for whatever reason, I wish to explain.
We have a roommate, see. I’ve mentioned him before. I’ve even mentioned (by which I mean, ranted about) how much I dislike said roommate. Well… said roommate didn’t pay the cable bill. It’s not that he was late paying the cable bill… It’s that he didn’t pay it. Twice. Then he acted surprised when it was cut off. Then he had the gall to try and jew us out of the money he needed to get it reconnected, even though we had already paid our share. (And I do apologize for the crass ethnic slur. It’s just that I can’t think of a better word, and no, “screw” won’t suffice. It’s also possible that it crossed my mind to irritate a certain individual who occasionally checks in on my blog and who, frankly, I wish would drop off the face of the earth. And no, it’s not because this individual is Jewish. It’s because she’s a cunt.)
I also apologize for using the word cunt. It’s not something I normally say. I also don’t normally make apologies on my blog. Perhaps I’ve been abducted by aliens.
Anyway, the cable & internet have been shut off for a while. I’ve been quite bored, to say the least. Other than applying for shitty bottom-of-the-barrel jobs, I have been… uh… Well, I read New Moon. And I’m now reading Yes Man by Danny Wallace. Since when do I read books that relate to new theatre releases? I try not to be an uber-snob (as anyone who knows I read the Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich can attest), but generally I do prefer to be a bit ahead of the curve.
A few weeks ago, I interviewed for a job and declared that if I didn’t get it, I was going to throw myself off a cliff. That was a dramatic statement, quite obviously, but when time passed without a phone call (or a RETURN phone call), I found the idea of offing myself quite fantastic. The reason? Well, they were hiring 20 people to do the same job. It was a job several levels below what I did for the Demons (in fact, I supervised such people and my coworkers and I made many references to monkeys, typewriters, and Kafka… what egos we had…), but there was no reason I shouldn’t have been hired. The idea that I wasn’t in the TOP TWENTY candidates for a job I knew inside and out was, well, more than a little disturbing.
I’ve been wandering around feeling hollow and depressed for a few weeks, but yesterday I finally heard back from the company. I’m not rejected. In fact, I’m one of their top candidates. It’s just that the project has been pushed back, and I can expect to hear from them in two weeks. This, I can deal with. I’m quite familiar with the volatile nature of project-based work. As long as I haven’t actually been rejected for the monkey-typewriter job, I can continue to look at myself in the mirror without mauling the mirror. Or myself.
Meanwhile, I’m hoping to hear back from them before I end up behind the counter at McDonald’s. Not only is that not my dream job, but exposure to the mere sight of mayonnaise makes me throw up. In fact, I am queasy just thinking about it. I couldn’t tell you why. I eat whipped cream and sour cream and alfredo sauce, so it’s not “white foods” in particular. It’s also not anything to do with the typical “fast food condiments,” because while I have no particular love of ketchup or mustard, I can say with certainty that they do not make my stomach turn. It’s just mayonnaise. And Miracle Whip.
While I am on the subject of places that people work that also involve food, I’d like to mention that I went to the most fabulous cake shop with my friend today. It was lovely and quaint and I had the most wonderful, decadent chocolate cupcake that I have ever experienced in life. After looking at an album of special occasion cakes, my friend and I decided that $200 was a bit steep for her daughter’s third birthday cake, but that perhaps we should try our hand at baking cakes. Not like PW’s chocolate cake or my friend’s Pineapple Dream Cake (which is quite dreamy), but professional-style celebration cakes. She’s going to supply the mixer and pans. I guess I’ll supply the eggs.
I’m Going To Mark Myself As A Real Asshole Today
I was reading this article about how the Dallas police department has raided an apartment complex where an officer was fatally shot. While I am sorry that the officer died, because I’m sorry when anyone dies, I can honestly say that I blame the DPD for his death far more than I do the man who shot him.
Here’s why: “Police Chief David Kunkle said the officers serving the warrant were attempting a ‘ruse to try to get the suspects to the door without announcing that they were police officers.’”
So… You know the complex is a bad place. You know that it’s a drug den and that it’s filled with criminals. And the way you handle a sting is to send officers in pretending to be someone else?
If I were a fugitive and I were dumb enough to answer my door to what I thought was a vacuum salesperson or what the fuck ever, and I found out that it was the police instead, I don’t know that I’d be hotheaded enough to actually shoot them, but I would be mightily tempted.
Now that the officer has been killed, they have continued their brilliant offensive on the complex by swarming it. I quote: “Shortly before noon, at least 15 patrol cars arrived at the Oak Wood Place Apartments. Officers swarmed in to knock on doors, checking for possible arrest warrants and attempting to remove anyone who didn’t belong in the area.”
Isn’t that just a little reminiscent of the Gestapo? Anyone?!?!?
Law enforcement in this country has gone way off the fucking chain. For instance, in Dallas, if you are pulled over and found to be driving without insurance, they will TOW YOUR CAR. This is not a joke. It’s fucking ridiculous. The police are overstepping their bounds, and they’re allowed to do so by a fearful populace of idiots.
Gah.