you'll always be what you always were

so, last day. happy/sad guilty/gleeful sorry/grateful and wound tighter than a $4.95 ballerina music box, that's me today. outlook: weepy.

at the end of the tunnel there's a light

i have been Offically Advised to wear jeans on my first day at the new place. jeans? on a tuesday? o.M.G!

his name is Jeff and he works for US Bank

as i mentioned, i bought some new tires day before yesterday due to a flat. apparently, this was a Very Bad Idea.

yesterday i went to buy some lunch. debit card rejected. odd, because i know there's money in the ol' account. i shrug it off and pay with my company card. midafternoon i go for a snack. different place, card rejected. fortunately i have cash enough to cover (a rare occurrence).

i call my bank. my recent purchase is apparently Unusual. well, yes, i concede; how often does one buy tires? apparently the Unusual Purchase somehow got coded as taking place in New Hampshire. i assure them it took place in Ballard, the amount is fine and i'd like my card to work now, please. they say ok.

this morning i swing through MickeyD's on my way to the second to last day of The Job because i had three sidecars last night and am in desperate need of coffee and an egg mcmuffin. card rejected.

i wait until i get parked at work to begin what i (somehow) foresee is going to be an upsetting conversation. after much time on hold i talk to a nice lady who can see that i spoke with Jeff yesterday. Jeff, apparently, shut down my card. he's not in yet, so she can't ask him why.

they can superspeedily ship me a new debit card by saturday. that would be two days from now.

on the plus side there is a branch of US Bank two blocks from here and i do happen to have my checkbook with me (which is also a rare occurrence), so it should be basically OK.

however, i feel that they owe me, big time, for the inconvenience. anyone have any ideas what i can ask for from a bank?

also, does anyone know who the God of Minor Annoyances is? i appear to have offended them and need to make a sacrifice.

UPDATE: apparently the card was shut down "from my local branch". but the folks at central HQ are going to stick to their 5starservice commitment and put 5 WHOLE DOLLARS into my account. i need to go to the branch manager for further molifying.

YAWP

four shiny new tires later and i'm back at work where the tension and the urge to kill are mounting.

you would think, time being as short as it is, i'd be experiencing some prerelief relief.

you would also think, having switched jobs before, i would know the preceeding idea is nonsense.

today will be a long day.
tomorrow will be a long day.
at least today's longness comes with an open bar, so on balance i imagine it will be slightly more tolerable.
or i'll get pissed and then pissed and tell some people off.
stay tuned!

there's a hole in the bucket, dear liza, dear liza

Grrrrr!

if your mother says don't chew it do you swallow it in spite?

finally saw The Prestige over the weekend. i imagine this movie led to many many debates when it 1st came out. uppermost of which must obviously have been:

where did they get that amazing spirit gum?

i mean, i've been doing theatre for awhile now. been in plenty of shows with people sporting fake hairpieces. even worn a few faux'staches and beards and whatnot myself. and, damn, they're hard to keep on. you sweat and you move and people insist on touching you and stuff. spirit gum is the best, no argument, but that's really not saying that much.

and this is how we know the chappies in The Prestige were magicians; their spirit gum worked perfectly all the time. way to inform those characters, designers!

(liked movie very much; would prefer to lose the last 7 minutes; like shawshank redemption)

last night i couldn't even get an answer

oh my golly gosh, look! it's an honest to goodness weekend. woo and hoo. i began the festivities by sleeping for Twelve Hours. i sure know how to get down, yo.

can't you see i'm burnin' burnin'

soooooo, it appears i didn't blow that callback after all. hurray. (and now the gin is for celebrating. Gin: It's Everywhere You Wanna Be.)

give the past a slip

people's april style issue admonishing me to get canvas sneakers and an oversized watch?

teenagers wearing orange leopard print pants with lime green boots and a jean jacket?

lionel ritchie on tour?

why are the 80s back? when are they going away again?

how many people does he need?

bad: blowing a callback
not so bad: having an entire free bottle of bombay sapphire on hand for solace

but some truths are worse than lies

splurged on books weekend before last (5) and am bemused to note a full two of them are Now A Major Motion Picture!

which begs the question, does any motion picture ever admit to being Not-Major?

and, since we're all fairly used to the technology by now, is there any reason to keep calling them Motion Pictures?

i'm sorry, but yes, it is yet another post wherein i complain about The Job. feel free to skip it.

holy mary mother of god. seriously.

this is the Day of Deadline for my work on the season brochure. a 40 page brochure which i am pretty much writing single-handedly. a day where it would be really optimal if everyone could leave me as alone as possible.

yeah. sure.

dogpiled on my plate today:
- finding 5 couples of tango dancers who are willing to dance for free at 6 a.m. on a weekday. oh, and the reporter insists they be really really good.
- finding a hotel in the k-land metro area that has room to park two giant tour buses.
- scheduling workshops taking place two months from now, when i don't know what day the artists are arriving, because they aren't answering my calls.
- answering all incoming calls whilst the rest of the staff interviews replacements for me.

i got in the car to run parking reconnaissance and nearly kept driving.

ninemoredaysninemoredaysninemoredays.

mdash colon delete insert space stet help

if anyone happens to be on the eastside this afternoon, could you bring me a sandwich? thanks.

like a leaf that's borne in the tide

ah, yes, i'd forgotten the loopy rush of auditioning: how it eats the whole day, how you can't beat the adrenaline high.

how it feels to get the rejection email the next morning.

ah well. beats workin'.

don't know when i'll be back again

yes, this is the actual time. i have just returned from my Last Early-Morning Artist Airport Run.

hip hip hurray and no mistake. my alarm was set for 5:44 to get my pasty white ass out here on time. (i guess that extra minute seemed very important at the time? or i was just lazy when setting the alarm.)

by the bye, canadians? no more polite than americanis. in fact from my sample group (n=4), i would conclude a full 25 percent of them to be fucking cunts. (greet your 6:30am driver, boys and girls, even if it's just a grunt or a heartfelt 'piss off'. thanks!)

The inside might be as black as the night...

after a mysterious episode of overpowering nausea during the play last night (not the fault of the production; it was swell) and random panic attacks this morning, i think it's safe to say:

the stress is winning.

sure, there's that light at the end of the tunnel there. i can see it. and, no, recent drama aside, i don't think it's the headlamp of an oncoming train. i think it's a real light.

but right now it's still awfully dark in here. and i have to lay the tracks from here to the end if i want to get out. and i'm going to miss some of my fellow convict labourers. and, as if that's not bad enough, i've totally taken this metaphor way too far.

i'm tired and balking.
i want to sit on the hand car and coast.
i want to run around in circles screaming and shouting.

why can't our love stay crunchy in milk like my cereal?

A-mar: . . .and everyone i mention the show to is like, 'come on now, she was scripted, wasn't she?'
me: i guess that's a compliment for an improviser.

you're no bunny 'til some bunny loves you

evil, thou hast a new form:


no, not dorer the explorer, (explorer? i don't even...oh never mind) the bunny.

looks like a nice lovely little chocolate bunny, donit?

look again:

RESIN CHOCOLATE BUNNY

that's right. local grocery chain has a collection of chocolate-looking bunnies made out of a very very hard material right there on the shelves with the actual candy.

this is wrong.
this is cruel.
this is something i should buy right away, put in a decorative box and ship to my sister.

easter is only a week after april fool's' day, after all.

sigh. so much evil in this world.

for service and devotion

no matter how i feel about The Job and the leaving of The Job, it just leaves me warm and fuzzy that they've decided they have to hire two separate people to replace me.

warm, fuzzy and vindicated.

couldn't find a seat so i had to stand with the perverts in the back

there is a plan. the plan involves my riding a public bus alone. in a statement which will no doubt cause my seattle readers to scoff into their coffee, i reveal that i have never done this before.

should be interesting.

actually, i hope not. i hope it is a thoroughly boring ride, with absolutely nothing of any interest to report.

no escape from reality

not our mr. miller, but the one currently appearing at The Job:

then we will fight in the shade

one question: if all the menfolk in sparta are warriors, who the heck planted all those picturesque wheat fields?

i ain't workin here no more

Reason to be Glad I've Quit This Job #43: no more early morning calls from teachers on my personal cell phone

hey kiddies, ho kiddies, ice cream today

before the improv

(looking at a performer in purple vest and tuxedo coat)

me: is she a magician or something?
other girl: why, because she got changed so damn fast?"

after the improv

scraggley fat hippie: wow!
denny's employee: haven't you ever done a whipit before?
sfh: no!
other denny's employee: oh, they're the best.
sfh: yeah!

let the joyous news be spread

insert usual rant re: working all weekend here

me: . . .so i have a new job. i give notice tomorrow.
twink: oh, that's great! congratulations!
(indistinct noise in background)
twink: (laughing) twist thinks you just told me you're pregnant.
me: oh dear god no!
(indistinct noise in background)
twink: she heard that.

...shoulda learned to play them drums, part 2

remember when i was all "whee, i get a 2 day weekend in 11 days."?

yeah, well, i was wrong. (dead wrong.)

it'll actually be 18 days from that day.
or, if you like, 2 weeks from now.
or, even better!, 32 days since the last time i had two days off in a row.

the aforementioned "11 Days"? that was just the number of days i'd be working in a row before i next get any sort of day off whatsoever.

(and it's still wrong. it'll actually be 12 days.)

Golly! Why would I _ever_ want to leave a great job like this? What am I thinking??!?

i'm thinking "21 days," baby.

fish don't fry in the kitchen, beans don't burn on the grill
mood: excited and wary

dear friends, readers and random strangers,

i have a New Job.

i am bidding a mixed farewell to The Job at the end of this month.

New Job has a shiny New Title (Marketing Dalmuti, unless i'm remembering it incorrectly), a focus of responsibilities and (happy!) a decided lack of regular evening and weekend hours.

i've already scheduled 2 auditions. word.

i hope to present you a more social and less stressed face very soon.

love, raej

*****

dear seattle,

please take a long time to decide what you want to do about the viaduct.

love, raej

said you must be a girl with shoes like that, she said you know me well

yea!

well, maybe yea. well, ok, definitely yea. no doubt about the current status of the yea. just need a little time to make sure the yea stays yea.

clarification to follow. tomorrow.

shoulda learned to play the guitar, shoulda learned to play them drums

in eleven days, i will actually get a weekend with (wait for it) 2 days in a row when i do not have to be at work!

this is worthy of note because it has been a month since i did not have to work at least one day of the weekend.*

*i _did_ get two days in a row off Feb 18/19, but only by the deus ex machina-like interference of an Official National Holiday.

yeah. bein' a grown up is swell.

if the first 2 letters are ever the same, drop them both and then say the name

because everyone should get to play:

margeau looks like a punk rock roller derby queen.

gogole in health, lady.