Back to the Future….

26 02 2009

No, I’m not reviewing that epic movie.  Although I’m sure some of you wish I was.  This is an actual talking about the future post.  Scary, huh?

(Expecting the rest of the Vacation Story? It’s coming next, I swears!  THIS however, is the reason I never finished my story on Friday.)

Wonderful opportunities have recently presented themselves.  I suddenly have all the time in the world to finish my graduate school applications because my position was cut last Friday as part of a series of major budget cuts due to the economy.   This was Totally unexpected, but explains why the (ex)Boss was SUCH a fricken pain in the ass over the last few weeks – she wanted me to finish as much as possible before she was left all on her own.

I was let go. Damn. It’s like cancer in that you never expect it to happen to you.

Luckily, I left the company in very good standing.  They expressed deep regret about losing me as an employee and offered to provide any recommendations.  Additionally, the company’s severance pay is usually 2wks salary + unused vacation hours.  I was sent away with 11wks salary, unused vacation, & the bonus I was due to receive in March.  (and they freely admitted there are jobs & projects they aren’t capable of doing without me bc they don’t know how.) Rock on.  AND I’m finally free of the Boss from Hell!!!!!!!!!!!

Once the shock wore off, I packed my duffel, fed Chris the Fish, and drove straight to my parent’s house.  While this is all happening 5 months sooner than expected, at least there will be no guilt about quitting.  Maybe this is God’s way of giving a solid kick in the pants to finish those damned grad school applications.  I’ve one possible job that I’m applying for currently, but I’m wary about trying to pick up something when I’ll be heading out in August.

One note of interest: I am part of a new demographic – I’m one of the 600,000 workers to be laid off this month alone.

And I’m not even mad or freaked out.  It all has a way of working itself out.  Plus, now I can totally get my eyebrow re-pierced!  I’ll have to move out of the city in 2 months which will be kinda sad (bc ‘home’ is so blatantly suburbanly gray) but I was getting bored of it here anyway.

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21 01 2008

Sick.

Depressed.

I hate you Giants.

I hate you Packers.  WTF kind of game was that???  Why the fuck did you decide to practice INDOORS with a frozen football?!?!?!  That is NO way to prepare for the freezing temps!  You KNEW you were gonna play in -25 degrees (wind chill).

via NYT Against Giants, Breaks Don’t Go Favre’s Way

I know it’s cold out.  We go through this every year.  But seriously?!?! to the GIANTS???  Way to drop the ball.  Literally.  Over and over.  You got lucky with so many breaks like that shit kick from Tymes in the 4th.  Can’t luck your way into the Superbowl.  And you sure as hell would’ve been stomped had you actually made it to Phoenix with throws like that last interception.  Brett, come on.  Really?  You’re better than that.

Packers, I still love you.  Deep deep down.  Give me 6months to recover from this game.  Then we’ll be back full force.  Fans behind you.  100%. 

via The Frozen Tundra





Hilarious editorial on US political campaign

15 01 2008

Barack Obama – I’m sure we’ve seen him somewhere before

Armando Iannucci
Sunday January 13, 2008
The Observer

Like Will Smith, who in the new film I Am Legend wakes up to find himself the last man alive in a world of zombies, am I now the only person left on the planet who finds Barack Obama a little bit dull? Every time I listen to him, I start off thinking I’m about to wet my pants, but a minute-and-a-half later find my mind wandering, asking itself things like: ‘What does “the challenge of hope” mean?’ Yet I turn and look around and everyone is shouting and screaming. Obama chants: ‘Something better awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it’ and there’s a collective swoon from grown pundits and hardened reporters, all of them tearing off their shirts and pleading for Obama to sign their chests with indelible marker pen. Will Smith woke up to a world of zombies: in my personal nightmare, everyone around me has an overactive thyroid.

So why does Obama, billed by everyone as a cross between Gandhi and Abraham Lincoln, but without the terrible looks of either, just leave me puzzled? Maybe it’s because his is a rhetoric that soars and takes flight, but alights nowhere. It declares that together we can do anything, but doesn’t mention any of the things we can do. It’s a perpetual tickle in the nose that never turns into a sneeze. Trying to make sense of what he’s saying is like trying to wrap mist.

But, rhythmically, it’s quite alluring. It can make anything, even, for example, a simple chair, seem magnificent. Why vote for someone who says: ‘See that chair. You can sit on it’ when you can have someone like Obama say: ‘This chair can take your weight. This chair can hold your buttocks, 15 inches in the air. This chair, this wooden chair, can support the ass of the white man or the crack of the black man, take the downward pressure of a Jewish girl’s behind or the butt of a Buddhist adolescent, it can provide comfort for Muslim buns or Mormon backsides, the withered rump of an unemployed man in Nevada struggling to get his kids through high school and needful of a place to sit and think, the plump can of a single mum in Florida desperately struggling to make ends meet but who can no longer face standing, this chair, made from wood felled from the tallest redwood in Chicago, this chair, if only we believed in it, could sustain America’s huddled arse.’

Speeches full of hot air …

Maybe Obama is so successful because he’s the supreme master of what American politics excels in: high-flown language that denotes as little as possible. America is curious in that it is the most powerful, influential nation on Earth, it’s a doing country, but its politicians rarely spend time on the stump specifying what precisely they will do in case it makes them lose votes. Instead, they settle on emotive, intangible phraseology, such as Hillary Clinton’s recent ‘I intend to be the President who puts your futures first’, uttered in New Hampshire.

I listened to all the victory speeches of the winning candidates last week and it was impossible to spot any difference in the message. Mike Huckabee said: ‘This election is not about me, it’s about we’, while Clinton came up with the variant: ‘You want this election to be about you.’

Thus both of them appealed to voters who believed strongly that elections should be about types of people. This is a theme Clinton developed when she said: ‘I believe in what we can do together’, a brave message this, since there was always the risk she could alienate people who don’t believe in what a lot of people can do together. It may well be that the people who do believe in what people can do together came out in droves at the last minute to vote for her, hence her remarkable comeback. Similarly, John McCain’s pledge that as President he would ‘make in our time another, better world than the one we inherited’ might have won over a lot of voters who were dead against making another, worse world than the one they inherited.

… and empty promises

This abandonment of specifics is the opposite of how politics is articulated in Britain. Here, politicians have less power, less international influence and are at the mercy of the markets and even the weather, so they try covering this up with language that is all about pledging and specific target-setting – anything, in fact, that sounds like action.

‘We intend to provide a chair, which, over the next five-year period, will guarantee stability for anyone who sat on it.’ ‘We will introduce the most sweeping measures yet to ensure that all four chair legs are of exactly the same length and we will measure every leg on the chair twice a year and place those results in national chair-leg database.’ ‘We will stop other people coming over to use the chair before us.’

American politicians take time out from their busy lives to makes speeches that sound empty; British politicians fill the emptiness of their lives with words that make them sound busy. The chair, by the way, was made in China.

via Guardian Unlimited





Oh.My.God

30 11 2007

This is downright Frightening!!!! I will not have children. There is no way I could cope with the availability of the negativity through the media.  I was just watching the video Wisco posted which really made me start thinking.  Then I happened across this article today in the New York Times:

A Hoax Turned Fatal Draws Anger but No Charges
By CHRISTOPHER MAAG
Published: November 28, 2007

DARDENNE PRAIRIE, Mo., Nov. 21 — Megan Meier died believing that somewhere in this world lived a boy named Josh Evans who hated her. He was 16, owned a pet snake, and she thought he was the cutest boyfriend she ever had.

Josh contacted Megan through her page on MySpace.com, the social networking Web site, said Megan’s mother, Tina Meier. They flirted for weeks, but only online — Josh said his family had no phone. On Oct. 15, 2006, Josh suddenly turned mean. He called Megan names, and later they traded insults for an hour.

The next day, in his final message, said Megan’s father, Ron Meier, Josh wrote, “The world would be a better place without you.”

Sobbing, Megan ran into her bedroom closet. Her mother found her there, hanging from a belt. She was 13.

Six weeks after Megan’s death, her parents learned that Josh Evans never existed. He was an online character created by Lori Drew, then 47, who lived four houses down the street in this rapidly growing community 35 miles northwest of St. Louis.

That an adult would plot such a cruel hoax against a 13-year-old girl has drawn outraged phone calls, e-mail messages and blog posts from around the world. Many people expressed anger because St. Charles County officials did not charge Ms. Drew with a crime.

But a St. Charles County Sheriff’s Department spokesman, Lt. Craig McGuire, said that what Ms. Drew did “might’ve been rude, it might’ve been immature, but it wasn’t illegal.”

In response to the events, the local Board of Aldermen on Wednesday unanimously passed a measure making Internet harassment a misdemeanor punishable by up to a $500 fine and 90 days in jail.

“Give me a break; that’s nothing,” Mayor Pam Fogarty said of the penalties. “But it’s the most we could do. People are saying to me, ‘Let’s go burn down their house.’”

St. Charles County’s prosecuting attorney, Jack Banas, said he was reviewing the case to determine whether anyone could be charged with a crime. State Representative Doug Funderburk, whose district includes Dardenne Prairie, said he was looking into the feasibility of introducing legislation to tighten restrictions against online harassment and fraud.

In seventh grade, Megan Meier had tried desperately to join the popular crowd at Fort Zumwalt West Middle School, only to be teased about her weight, her mother said. At the beginning of eighth grade last year, she transferred to Immaculate Conception, a nearby Catholic school. Within three months, Ms. Meier said, her daughter had a new group of friends, lost 20 pounds and joined the volleyball team.

At one time, Lori Drew’s daughter and Megan had been “joined at the hip,” said Megan’s great-aunt Vicki Dunn. But the two drifted apart, and when Megan changed schools she told the other girl that she no longer wanted to be friends, Ms. Meier said.

In a report filed with the Sheriff’s Department, Lori Drew said she created the MySpace profile of “Josh Evans” to win Megan’s trust and learn how Megan felt about her daughter. Reached at home, Lori’s husband, Curt Drew, said only that the family had no comment.

Because Ms. Drew had taken Megan on family vacations, she knew the girl had been prescribed antidepression medication, Ms. Meier said. She also knew that Megan had a MySpace page.

Ms. Drew had told a girl across the street about the hoax, said the girl’s mother, who requested anonymity to protect her daughter, a minor.

“Lori laughed about it,” the mother said, adding that Ms. Drew and Ms. Drew’s daughter “said they were going to mess with Megan.”

After a month of innocent flirtation between Megan and Josh, Ms. Meier said, Megan suddenly received a message from him saying, “I don’t like the way you treat your friends, and I don’t know if I want to be friends with you.”

They argued online. The next day other youngsters who had linked to Josh’s MySpace profile joined the increasingly bitter exchange and began sending profanity-laden messages to Megan, who retreated to her bedroom. No more than 15 minutes had passed, Ms. Meier recalled, when she suddenly felt something was terribly wrong. She rushed to the bedroom and found her daughter’s body hanging in the closet.

As paramedics worked to revive Megan, the neighbor who insisted on anonymity said, Lori Drew called the neighbor’s daughter and told her to “keep her mouth shut” about the MySpace page.

Six weeks later, at a meeting with the Meiers, mediated by grief counselors, the neighbor told them that “Josh” was a hoax. The Drews were not present.

“I just sat there in shock,” Mr. Meier said.

Shortly before Megan’s death, the Meiers had agreed to store a foosball table the Drews had bought as a Christmas surprise for their children. When the Meiers learned about the MySpace hoax, they attacked the table with a sledgehammer and an ax, Ms. Meier said, and threw the pieces onto the Drews’ driveway.

“I felt like such a fool,” Mr. Meier said. “I’m supposed to protect my family, and here I allowed these people to inject themselves into our lives.”

The police learned about the hoax when Ms. Drew filed a complaint about the damage to the foosball table. In the report, she stated that she felt the hoax “contributed to Megan’s suicide, but she did not feel ‘as guilty’ because at the funeral she found out Megan had tried to commit suicide before.”

Megan had mentioned suicide several times, her mother said, but had never attempted it, and no one who knew her, including her doctors, felt she was suicidal.

On the advice of F.B.I. agents who did not want the Drews to learn of their investigation of the hoax, Ms. Meier said, her family said nothing publicly about the case for a year. Today, the Meier and the Drew families continue to live four houses from one another on a winding suburban street.

“There are no words to explain my rage,” Ms. Meier said. “These people were supposed to be our friends.”