...I've been reading the NY Times online for years. I rarely get a hardcopy, unless I'm traveling. I got one on Sunday in the airport while we were waiting for our plane. I read that thing for three hours straight (one in the airport, two on the plane) and I'm still not done with it (I'm a fast reader). Dude: that is a lot of content. Now, sure, each piece is written by a different person, but even still. The fact that it's all free online? Well. Wow. I just hope they know what they're doing.
...Apparently my iPod thinks I am depressed (or should be). I went to Subway to pick up sandwiches for myself and two of my co-workers, and on the trip, I heard the following songs:
- Nightmares By the Sea, by Jeff Buckley
- The Fix, by Elbow
- Love Will Come Through, by Travis
- Nothing Is Saving Me, by Translator
- Shine On You Crazy Diamond, by Pink Floyd
- Sweet F.A., by Love & Rockets
Thank God for the next song: "Honey, Please," by fIREHOSE: a nice, happy song about... tanning? Without this one I'd be slitting my wrists about now.
...At my old job, they're in Stage 1 of a huge, expensive, and complicated remodel. I've made a bet with my friend Andrea that rather than straighten out her file cabinets and throw some shit away, my former co-worker Eileen will have submitted her retirement paperwork by the end of the week. I'll keep you posted.
...Andrea shared with me a copy of a memo that went out to all her co-workers about the remodel (advising them of what would and would not be allowed on desks, approved display items, etc.) that contained the sentence, "Thank you for disregarding personal convenience..." I'm not even sure what that means. "Personal convenience" to me means working from home, or at the very least, allowed to wear my robe and slippers to work. I "disregard" these things every time I go to work! Here's what I had to say:
"Thank you for disregarding personal convenience" is a stupid sentence. A positive followed by a negative = bad taste in my mouth. "Thank you for not crapping all over our new and expensive office furniture" would've been better.
The rules they're handing down about what you can and cannot put on your desk are straight out of the "Consolidated Manual for Secretaries." Didn't Doralee, Judy, and Violet fight hard to free us from this type of totalitarianism?
Also I mocked the writer's (someone I used to edit on a regular basis) insistence on the old double-space after a period habit. Dude: it is not 1975. Microsoft Word is not your old electric typewriter. It looks stupid and ruins the look of the whole thing. Repeat after me: you are not a typesetter.
...Last night was my first tech rehearsal with City Garage for "The School For Wives" (opens Friday, March 20. Call and reserve a seat today! 310-319-9939). In my posting from yesterday, I was a little distracted by events that occurred after the rehearsal, but I wanted to say, the show looks beautiful (the opening scene is really gorgeous). The musical selections (all recordings this time around, no live music) are perfect. I'm really excited about it. These two weeks of tech, things really tighten up and change into something magical. I love the theater sometimes.
...Patrick and I, after our orgy of book buying at Powell's City of Books this weekend, chose to ship our purchases home via FedEx ($20 for two heavy boxes, not bad) rather than try to schlep them in our luggage or carry-on bags. However, we didn't think it through, because now we're sitting around waiting for our boxes (which also contain a couple of gifts) with nothing to read but the dregs of a four-day old NY Times. Rad or not, I need new reading material. I chose those books for a reason, and that reason is: I want to read them!
...I also didn't think through my decision to re-join Netflix this week, because now I have a movie at home I've been wanting to see since I read this and this and I won't have any time until the weekend.
...My parents' anniversary is next Monday, and to celebrate, they've asked us to dinner with them on Saturday. Guess where they want to go? Sizzler.
Hook me up with some cheese bread, mom. Happy anniversary!
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