Kevin, explaining that most of his job prospects are limited to either the defense industry or the health care industry:
I don't want to kill people, and I don't want to help people.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Uneventful Headachey Day
I had a headache when I went to bed last night and was annoyed to discover that it hadn’t gone away when I woke up this morning.
It seemed to be a sinus headache, and the pressure was making my eyes watery and sensitive to light, and as it didn’t appear to be getting better, even after taking a very hot shower, I decided to go back to bed after about an hour. Shortly after I got into bed my friend Kevin called. We talked for quite a while until he got another call. While I was waiting for him to come back, my phone made some clicking noises, then I heard it dialing, and then it said, “If you’d like to make a call, hang up and try again.”
I hung up, but didn’t try again, as I really needed to grab something to eat.
By this time the pressure had lessened and my eyes weren’t quite so cloudy, but going back to bed still seemed really appealing, so that’s what I did.
I slept for a little over two hours and woke up feeling much better, if still a bit out of it.
Deciding to watch a little TV, I tuned into Giada’s Weekend Getaways, and then I was going to watch Deserving Design on HGTV, a show featuring Vern Yip, who used to be a designer on Trading Spaces. I opted not to watch it, though, after I saw that it was going to feature a male assistant rather than the really hot female assistant that’s sometimes on the show.
I watch a lot of HGTV, both the SD and HD versions, because I like to see if there are any design ideas I could eventually incorporate into my house, and also because I simply find a lot of that sort of stuff genuinely interesting, but one of the main reasons I watch the shows that I do is because they often feature hot chicks, like Brandie Malay or Jane Wogan.
When the shows don’t feature the hot chicks, my interests tends to wane.
(Before my first attempt at going back to bed, I had put on Don’t Sweat It, but because it was an episode that didn’t feature Jane, it became Don’t Watch It.)
One of the other HGTV shows I watch pretty regularly is Designer Finals, in which a design student is given a real-world design project to manage, complete with a $2000 budget, a couple of handymen, and a two day deadline. It’s interesting to watch the students put theory into practice while under pressure.
What’s even more interesting is that the design students tend to be young women who are cute and wear extremely short skirts.
Like a lot of HGTV shows, Designer Finals seems to have an East Coast cast and a West Coast cast, so depending on where the show happens to be filming you might see different people. One of the hosts of the show looks like he could be Ryan Reynolds’ brother, and one of the handymen looks as though he’s on the show to supplement his income when he’s not appearing as “Gangbanger #11” in movies like The Gangbang Girl 45. Seriously, he’s one of the porniest guys I’ve ever seen outside of a porn.
(Not that I’ve ever seen The Gangbang Girl 45 – there was a serious dip in quality after The Gangbang Girl 31.)
In any case, my day has largely been uneventful, as you can see.
It seemed to be a sinus headache, and the pressure was making my eyes watery and sensitive to light, and as it didn’t appear to be getting better, even after taking a very hot shower, I decided to go back to bed after about an hour. Shortly after I got into bed my friend Kevin called. We talked for quite a while until he got another call. While I was waiting for him to come back, my phone made some clicking noises, then I heard it dialing, and then it said, “If you’d like to make a call, hang up and try again.”
I hung up, but didn’t try again, as I really needed to grab something to eat.
By this time the pressure had lessened and my eyes weren’t quite so cloudy, but going back to bed still seemed really appealing, so that’s what I did.
I slept for a little over two hours and woke up feeling much better, if still a bit out of it.
Deciding to watch a little TV, I tuned into Giada’s Weekend Getaways, and then I was going to watch Deserving Design on HGTV, a show featuring Vern Yip, who used to be a designer on Trading Spaces. I opted not to watch it, though, after I saw that it was going to feature a male assistant rather than the really hot female assistant that’s sometimes on the show.
I watch a lot of HGTV, both the SD and HD versions, because I like to see if there are any design ideas I could eventually incorporate into my house, and also because I simply find a lot of that sort of stuff genuinely interesting, but one of the main reasons I watch the shows that I do is because they often feature hot chicks, like Brandie Malay or Jane Wogan.
When the shows don’t feature the hot chicks, my interests tends to wane.
(Before my first attempt at going back to bed, I had put on Don’t Sweat It, but because it was an episode that didn’t feature Jane, it became Don’t Watch It.)
One of the other HGTV shows I watch pretty regularly is Designer Finals, in which a design student is given a real-world design project to manage, complete with a $2000 budget, a couple of handymen, and a two day deadline. It’s interesting to watch the students put theory into practice while under pressure.
What’s even more interesting is that the design students tend to be young women who are cute and wear extremely short skirts.
Like a lot of HGTV shows, Designer Finals seems to have an East Coast cast and a West Coast cast, so depending on where the show happens to be filming you might see different people. One of the hosts of the show looks like he could be Ryan Reynolds’ brother, and one of the handymen looks as though he’s on the show to supplement his income when he’s not appearing as “Gangbanger #11” in movies like The Gangbang Girl 45. Seriously, he’s one of the porniest guys I’ve ever seen outside of a porn.
(Not that I’ve ever seen The Gangbang Girl 45 – there was a serious dip in quality after The Gangbang Girl 31.)
In any case, my day has largely been uneventful, as you can see.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Setbacks And Some Geeky Schmaltz
Because nothing in life – and in particular nothing relating to this job – has ever really been easy, I found out today that I am not starting my new job come Monday morning.
While I’ve been assured that it’s not actually a problem, apparently there is some information in my background check that couldn’t be verified in time to clear me to start work on Monday. I don’t know what that “something” is, but the long and short of it is that my start date will be delayed until probably the middle of the week.
Oh, and just to make things more irritating, even though I no longer qualify for the severance package payoff from AOL, today the money from the severance showed up in my checking account. This wasn’t a total surprise, as I’d gotten the little check stub/Advice of Deposit in the mail the other day, but it’s still irritating because somewhere along the line I’m going to have to give it back to them.
On the advice of the recruiter for the job that I want and now have(?), I’m transferring the money over to my high-yield savings account, as she’s seen it take 4 to 5 months for them to get around to sorting the situation out when this sort of thing has happened with other laid off AOL employees who moved over to that branch of the corporate tree.
So I might as well make some interest off of it while I wait for them to come calling to collect it.
This morning I headed to the comic shop, then stopped at Super Target on my way home and picked up some Just For Men. Light Brown was the closest match to what was my natural color. This afternoon I tried it out.
The end result? Well, instead of looking like someone who once had dark blonde hair and has since gone gray, I look like someone with brown hair who either has some oddly-placed highlights or is starting to go gray. I guess it’s an improvement.
I tried taking some before and after pictures of myself, but the lighting is such that you can’t really see much of a difference so I didn’t see the point of posting them.
One Less Day Department:
Back in the summer of 1987 in a Spider-Man annual (which is part of my collection), Spider-Man (Peter Parker) married his longtime friend/sometimes girlfriend Mary Jane Watson, a character first introduced into the Spidey mythos back in 1964.
While plenty of stories – some good, some bad, some dreadful – featuring a married Spider-Man have been told in the last two decades, somewhere along the line Marvel Comics Editor-in-Chief Joe Quesada decided that it is completely and utterly impossible to produce Spider-Man stories so long as he’s saddled with the old ball and chain, and that having Spidey be a mature, married man makes it equally impossible for new, young fans to relate to the character.
With that in mind, comic fandom was treated to an editorially-mandated “event” entitled One More Day, which Quesada himself drew, the purpose of which was to resolve this “problem.”
There are plenty of comics blogs which have discussed this issue to death, so it’s not my intention to delve too deeply into it here, but there are a few things I want to say about it.
Quesada has gone on record as saying that he didn’t want to simply kill off MJ or to have them get divorced, as it would send a terrible message to the kids.
So what did he do instead? He had Peter make a deal with the Devil to rewrite history so that the marriage never happened.
Because that’s a much better message to send to the kids.
(As a side-effect of the history rewriting deal, they also retconned out something that was, unlike the marriage, actually a legitimately bone-headed move: Spidey publicly revealing his secret identity.)
Personally, I think the marriage was a good idea, and that it does not present a barrier to telling good stories. In fact, it creates considerably more possibilities than endlessly exploring the woes of a single Peter Parker as he struggles to find love could ever hope to do.
Beyond that, there are already existing Spider-Man comics that do feature a single Peter Parker, such as Ultimate Spider-Man (the whole purpose of which was to tell modern stories that present a young, single Peter Parker) and Marvel Adventures Spider-Man.
Further, an entire generation of comics fans has grown up with a married Peter Parker being a simple fact of life.
What’s really at play here is not some concern about what the fans want – in fact, the guy at the comic shop told me that several customers have requested that the Spider titles be removed from their subscription lists – but what Joe Quesada wants. And what he wants is for Spider-Man to be exactly the way he was when li’l Joe was reading comics.
This is actually a pretty widespread trend in comics these days. So many creators are trying to make comics the way they “should” be, which is to say, the way they remember them. Nostalgia is the most important consideration, and anything that’s happened in the years since they were reading comics can (and should) be thrown out the window. Screw character growth, screw history, and screw what the fans actually want.
Okay, getting a little off track here; the above is itself suitable material for several lengthy posts.
To get back to my point, I need to get into some of the actual content of the One More Day storyline (which, taken out of the context of the rather heated debate, was actually a really bad story). The catalyst for Peter and MJ – both had to agree to the terms of the deal – to enter into this pact was Peter’s beloved Aunt May getting shot with a sniper’s bullet intended for Peter. Not for the first time, May’s life was hanging by a thread and her chances for recovery were virtually nil. Peter did everything he could to try to restore May to her normal state of health (which has never really been good – she is a very old woman, after all), but to no avail.
The deal he was presented with was that in exchange for giving up his marriage, the Devil (technically a demon named Mephisto) would restore May to health.
(What does Mephisto get out of it? There will be a part of Peter and MJ’s souls that remember the love they shared and will be crying out in pain throughout eternity, a sound that will be pleasing to Mephisto’s ears. Also, their love is so pure and wonderful that their forsaking it will be an affront to God Himself, which Mephisto will also get off on. I told you the story was really bad.)
Anyway, we’re getting close to my point, which is that there is one thing that I haven’t seen mentioned a lot in the various comments I’ve read about the story, and which was not mentioned at all in One More Day itself, and that is this: had she known what Peter and MJ were doing, May would never have approved.
The last thing that May would want for her beloved nephew, whom she had raised as if he were her own child, would be for him to give up his happiness for her sake.
If she’d been given the opportunity to speak, I imagine May would have said something like this:
I’m an old woman, Peter. An old woman who has lived a long, full life, one that has, perhaps, had more than its share of tragedies, from the loss of your parents to the loss of my darling Ben. Despite that, I have no regrets because I had the opportunity to share a long life with your uncle, and though I would have liked that life to have lasted just a little longer, I know that one day he and I will be together again and our love will last throughout eternity.
I have also had the opportunity to watch you grow into a fine man. A strong man. A loving man. A man like your uncle. A hero. Sometimes I look at you and I can still see the sad, awkward boy that Ben and I took in and loved as our own, and when I think about how far that boy has come and what he’s accomplished, I feel like my heart will burst with pride to think that I played any part in making you the strong, wonderful, heroic man you are.
The happiest day of my life was the day you made MJ your wife. To think that you could find someone who complements you so perfectly, someone with a fierce spirit and a heart full of boundless…it filled me with so much joy to know that you had found a love like the one Ben and I shared.
And I would happily give up my life to make sure that you hold onto that love.
Let me go, Peter. My time has come, I’ve lived my life, and I so want to be with my Ben again, to hear his warm laugh, to feel his strong, gentle arms. Let me go, and know how much I love you, and how much I love MJ, and that all I want is for the two of you to know the happiness that Ben and I knew.
Don’t throw love away, Peter. In the end, it’s the only thing we really have.
*Sniffle*
Anyway, I realize that this new status quo is, like all things in comics, likely only temporary, and I’m not filled with anything even remotely like the near-murderous rage that some fans are over it, but I do think it was a dumb idea (and lousy story), and thought I should put my two cents out there and speak to the issue of May and what her wishes would have been, since no one involved in the story seemed to be capable of doing so.
While I’ve been assured that it’s not actually a problem, apparently there is some information in my background check that couldn’t be verified in time to clear me to start work on Monday. I don’t know what that “something” is, but the long and short of it is that my start date will be delayed until probably the middle of the week.
Oh, and just to make things more irritating, even though I no longer qualify for the severance package payoff from AOL, today the money from the severance showed up in my checking account. This wasn’t a total surprise, as I’d gotten the little check stub/Advice of Deposit in the mail the other day, but it’s still irritating because somewhere along the line I’m going to have to give it back to them.
On the advice of the recruiter for the job that I want and now have(?), I’m transferring the money over to my high-yield savings account, as she’s seen it take 4 to 5 months for them to get around to sorting the situation out when this sort of thing has happened with other laid off AOL employees who moved over to that branch of the corporate tree.
So I might as well make some interest off of it while I wait for them to come calling to collect it.
This morning I headed to the comic shop, then stopped at Super Target on my way home and picked up some Just For Men. Light Brown was the closest match to what was my natural color. This afternoon I tried it out.
The end result? Well, instead of looking like someone who once had dark blonde hair and has since gone gray, I look like someone with brown hair who either has some oddly-placed highlights or is starting to go gray. I guess it’s an improvement.
I tried taking some before and after pictures of myself, but the lighting is such that you can’t really see much of a difference so I didn’t see the point of posting them.
One Less Day Department:
Back in the summer of 1987 in a Spider-Man annual (which is part of my collection), Spider-Man (Peter Parker) married his longtime friend/sometimes girlfriend Mary Jane Watson, a character first introduced into the Spidey mythos back in 1964.
While plenty of stories – some good, some bad, some dreadful – featuring a married Spider-Man have been told in the last two decades, somewhere along the line Marvel Comics Editor-in-Chief Joe Quesada decided that it is completely and utterly impossible to produce Spider-Man stories so long as he’s saddled with the old ball and chain, and that having Spidey be a mature, married man makes it equally impossible for new, young fans to relate to the character.
With that in mind, comic fandom was treated to an editorially-mandated “event” entitled One More Day, which Quesada himself drew, the purpose of which was to resolve this “problem.”
There are plenty of comics blogs which have discussed this issue to death, so it’s not my intention to delve too deeply into it here, but there are a few things I want to say about it.
Quesada has gone on record as saying that he didn’t want to simply kill off MJ or to have them get divorced, as it would send a terrible message to the kids.
So what did he do instead? He had Peter make a deal with the Devil to rewrite history so that the marriage never happened.
Because that’s a much better message to send to the kids.
(As a side-effect of the history rewriting deal, they also retconned out something that was, unlike the marriage, actually a legitimately bone-headed move: Spidey publicly revealing his secret identity.)
Personally, I think the marriage was a good idea, and that it does not present a barrier to telling good stories. In fact, it creates considerably more possibilities than endlessly exploring the woes of a single Peter Parker as he struggles to find love could ever hope to do.
Beyond that, there are already existing Spider-Man comics that do feature a single Peter Parker, such as Ultimate Spider-Man (the whole purpose of which was to tell modern stories that present a young, single Peter Parker) and Marvel Adventures Spider-Man.
Further, an entire generation of comics fans has grown up with a married Peter Parker being a simple fact of life.
What’s really at play here is not some concern about what the fans want – in fact, the guy at the comic shop told me that several customers have requested that the Spider titles be removed from their subscription lists – but what Joe Quesada wants. And what he wants is for Spider-Man to be exactly the way he was when li’l Joe was reading comics.
This is actually a pretty widespread trend in comics these days. So many creators are trying to make comics the way they “should” be, which is to say, the way they remember them. Nostalgia is the most important consideration, and anything that’s happened in the years since they were reading comics can (and should) be thrown out the window. Screw character growth, screw history, and screw what the fans actually want.
Okay, getting a little off track here; the above is itself suitable material for several lengthy posts.
To get back to my point, I need to get into some of the actual content of the One More Day storyline (which, taken out of the context of the rather heated debate, was actually a really bad story). The catalyst for Peter and MJ – both had to agree to the terms of the deal – to enter into this pact was Peter’s beloved Aunt May getting shot with a sniper’s bullet intended for Peter. Not for the first time, May’s life was hanging by a thread and her chances for recovery were virtually nil. Peter did everything he could to try to restore May to her normal state of health (which has never really been good – she is a very old woman, after all), but to no avail.
The deal he was presented with was that in exchange for giving up his marriage, the Devil (technically a demon named Mephisto) would restore May to health.
(What does Mephisto get out of it? There will be a part of Peter and MJ’s souls that remember the love they shared and will be crying out in pain throughout eternity, a sound that will be pleasing to Mephisto’s ears. Also, their love is so pure and wonderful that their forsaking it will be an affront to God Himself, which Mephisto will also get off on. I told you the story was really bad.)
Anyway, we’re getting close to my point, which is that there is one thing that I haven’t seen mentioned a lot in the various comments I’ve read about the story, and which was not mentioned at all in One More Day itself, and that is this: had she known what Peter and MJ were doing, May would never have approved.
The last thing that May would want for her beloved nephew, whom she had raised as if he were her own child, would be for him to give up his happiness for her sake.
If she’d been given the opportunity to speak, I imagine May would have said something like this:
I’m an old woman, Peter. An old woman who has lived a long, full life, one that has, perhaps, had more than its share of tragedies, from the loss of your parents to the loss of my darling Ben. Despite that, I have no regrets because I had the opportunity to share a long life with your uncle, and though I would have liked that life to have lasted just a little longer, I know that one day he and I will be together again and our love will last throughout eternity.
I have also had the opportunity to watch you grow into a fine man. A strong man. A loving man. A man like your uncle. A hero. Sometimes I look at you and I can still see the sad, awkward boy that Ben and I took in and loved as our own, and when I think about how far that boy has come and what he’s accomplished, I feel like my heart will burst with pride to think that I played any part in making you the strong, wonderful, heroic man you are.
The happiest day of my life was the day you made MJ your wife. To think that you could find someone who complements you so perfectly, someone with a fierce spirit and a heart full of boundless…it filled me with so much joy to know that you had found a love like the one Ben and I shared.
And I would happily give up my life to make sure that you hold onto that love.
Let me go, Peter. My time has come, I’ve lived my life, and I so want to be with my Ben again, to hear his warm laugh, to feel his strong, gentle arms. Let me go, and know how much I love you, and how much I love MJ, and that all I want is for the two of you to know the happiness that Ben and I knew.
Don’t throw love away, Peter. In the end, it’s the only thing we really have.
*Sniffle*
Anyway, I realize that this new status quo is, like all things in comics, likely only temporary, and I’m not filled with anything even remotely like the near-murderous rage that some fans are over it, but I do think it was a dumb idea (and lousy story), and thought I should put my two cents out there and speak to the issue of May and what her wishes would have been, since no one involved in the story seemed to be capable of doing so.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
I'm "Looking" Better All The Time
Last night it occurred to me that I should do something with what little free time I have remaining, so I e-mailed Scott to see if he wanted to have lunch today.
As Stacy had given him a ride to work, I had to pick him up, which meant actually having to talk to the security person at the gate in order to get in to the parking lot, as I no longer have badge access. I wasn’t on the visitor list, so she had to call Scott to confirm that I wasn’t a security risk.
Once I’d picked him up we headed for a Chinese buffet place, where I remarked that the “easy listening” music that was playing sounded like something straight out of a soft-core porn. I could totally picture Nicole Sheridan and Evan Stone getting it on with that music playing in the background, as it sounded more specifically like something that would be in one of the “Bikini” family of soft-core porn movies, which Sheridan and Stone have often appeared in (it could just as easily have played during a girl-girl scene featuring, say, Kennedy Johnston and Beverly Lynne).
The food was good, and it wasn’t to pricey. I may have to go there again sometime, as the Chinese buffet place here in Leesburg is only so-so.
I’ve got an eye appointment in a bit. I’d thought it was yesterday, but they called me yesterday afternoon to confirm that I was on for today. I’d scheduled it at 5:30 because when I was last there a bit over two weeks ago I thought that I’d still be working at the job that I didn’t want.
My eyes have been doing pretty good, I think – though I guess we’ll find out if that’s true after my appointment – and in particular they’ve been holding their new shape fairly well even on the morning after my night of not wearing them.
I’m not sure why, but I feel as though other people should notice the improvement somehow. I’m not sure how they would notice, though. I mean, I started wearing contacts in 2003, so people are used to seeing me without glasses already.
I guess it’s just that because I feel different I should somehow look different. The notion brings to mind a bad joke my dad would always make whenever someone got new glasses. He’d say, “You ‘look’ better.”
It was always good for a groan.
As Stacy had given him a ride to work, I had to pick him up, which meant actually having to talk to the security person at the gate in order to get in to the parking lot, as I no longer have badge access. I wasn’t on the visitor list, so she had to call Scott to confirm that I wasn’t a security risk.
Once I’d picked him up we headed for a Chinese buffet place, where I remarked that the “easy listening” music that was playing sounded like something straight out of a soft-core porn. I could totally picture Nicole Sheridan and Evan Stone getting it on with that music playing in the background, as it sounded more specifically like something that would be in one of the “Bikini” family of soft-core porn movies, which Sheridan and Stone have often appeared in (it could just as easily have played during a girl-girl scene featuring, say, Kennedy Johnston and Beverly Lynne).
The food was good, and it wasn’t to pricey. I may have to go there again sometime, as the Chinese buffet place here in Leesburg is only so-so.
I’ve got an eye appointment in a bit. I’d thought it was yesterday, but they called me yesterday afternoon to confirm that I was on for today. I’d scheduled it at 5:30 because when I was last there a bit over two weeks ago I thought that I’d still be working at the job that I didn’t want.
My eyes have been doing pretty good, I think – though I guess we’ll find out if that’s true after my appointment – and in particular they’ve been holding their new shape fairly well even on the morning after my night of not wearing them.
I’m not sure why, but I feel as though other people should notice the improvement somehow. I’m not sure how they would notice, though. I mean, I started wearing contacts in 2003, so people are used to seeing me without glasses already.
I guess it’s just that because I feel different I should somehow look different. The notion brings to mind a bad joke my dad would always make whenever someone got new glasses. He’d say, “You ‘look’ better.”
It was always good for a groan.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
New(?) Year
So the new year is well and truly upon us, a chance for new beginnings and fresh starts, a time to reflect upon the lessons of the previous year even as we look forward to the new lessons that lie ahead.
Or, you know, to just keep doing what we’ve been doing.
I’m not one for making resolutions, and, honestly, I’m more likely to just keep doing what I’ve been doing, so while there are some new beginnings and fresh starts ahead for me, I don’t foresee any astounding changes waiting for me in 2008.
There will be more money waiting for me, which is clearly a good thing, and what looks to be a more interesting and fulfilling job that will be providing said money, which is also a good thing.
But working five days a week? That I’m not looking forward to.
I suppose the inevitable question of “Jon, what did you do for New Years?” arises, or at least I’m saying, for rhetorical purposes, that it arises, and my answer to the question is, unsurprisingly, “Not much.”
I’d gone grocery shopping the morning of New Year’s Eve and had bought some sort of cheap steak that I wasn’t sure what to do with, so I opted to make Swiss Steak. It turned out okay, though the gravy was a bit bland. Apart from that, I parked my ass on the couch and watched HGTV for a few hours. The parking my ass on the couch part was the result of me not wanting to head back upstairs to the office to work on the Katherine Heigl picture. By that point I’d finished pretty much everything except the hair. Hair, as most regular readers know, is sort of my nemesis when it comes to drawing, and the hair in this particular image was especially challenging. I think the end result of my slapdash attempt at rendering the complex do turned out okay, but it’s got nothing on the real deal, but if I’d tried to render a perfect copy of the original, I’d probably have ended up working on it all through 2008, so, as I usually, I settled for what I could manage.
Working on the picture carried me through the end of 2007 and into the beginning of 2008.
Now I’m certain that there are worse ways to spend your New Year’s Eve than putting the finishing touches on a rendering of Katherine Heigl’s side boob, but I’m not certain that there are any ways that are sadder or more pathetic.
Still, “sad and pathetic” was an appropriate note on which to end one year and begin the next for me, so it all works out in the end, I guess.
Yesterday was even less active. I called my mom, and then later she called me so that I could talk to my nephew Todd, who’d been staying with her, before his mom picked him up.
In the evening I followed this chicken recipe I found online and learned, once again, that it doesn’t pay for me to try to fry breaded chicken, as in the process of removing it from the oil I always end up ripping the breading off.
And that was the exciting way in which I kicked off the new year.
Or, you know, to just keep doing what we’ve been doing.
I’m not one for making resolutions, and, honestly, I’m more likely to just keep doing what I’ve been doing, so while there are some new beginnings and fresh starts ahead for me, I don’t foresee any astounding changes waiting for me in 2008.
There will be more money waiting for me, which is clearly a good thing, and what looks to be a more interesting and fulfilling job that will be providing said money, which is also a good thing.
But working five days a week? That I’m not looking forward to.
I suppose the inevitable question of “Jon, what did you do for New Years?” arises, or at least I’m saying, for rhetorical purposes, that it arises, and my answer to the question is, unsurprisingly, “Not much.”
I’d gone grocery shopping the morning of New Year’s Eve and had bought some sort of cheap steak that I wasn’t sure what to do with, so I opted to make Swiss Steak. It turned out okay, though the gravy was a bit bland. Apart from that, I parked my ass on the couch and watched HGTV for a few hours. The parking my ass on the couch part was the result of me not wanting to head back upstairs to the office to work on the Katherine Heigl picture. By that point I’d finished pretty much everything except the hair. Hair, as most regular readers know, is sort of my nemesis when it comes to drawing, and the hair in this particular image was especially challenging. I think the end result of my slapdash attempt at rendering the complex do turned out okay, but it’s got nothing on the real deal, but if I’d tried to render a perfect copy of the original, I’d probably have ended up working on it all through 2008, so, as I usually, I settled for what I could manage.
Working on the picture carried me through the end of 2007 and into the beginning of 2008.
Now I’m certain that there are worse ways to spend your New Year’s Eve than putting the finishing touches on a rendering of Katherine Heigl’s side boob, but I’m not certain that there are any ways that are sadder or more pathetic.
Still, “sad and pathetic” was an appropriate note on which to end one year and begin the next for me, so it all works out in the end, I guess.
Yesterday was even less active. I called my mom, and then later she called me so that I could talk to my nephew Todd, who’d been staying with her, before his mom picked him up.
In the evening I followed this chicken recipe I found online and learned, once again, that it doesn’t pay for me to try to fry breaded chicken, as in the process of removing it from the oil I always end up ripping the breading off.
And that was the exciting way in which I kicked off the new year.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Happy New Year From Threshold!
By most anyone's standard, 2007 was a very good year for actress Katherine Heigl (at least professionally; for all I know her personal life is a shambles, but that's not the point), so I thought it would be appropriate for us to join her as she turns her lovely back on the year that was - however reluctantly - to face the year ahead. I hope 2008 is a good year for her, and for all of you.
Monday, December 31, 2007
I'm Just Dyeing To Know What You Think
So a new year is nearly upon us.
At the end of the first year in which I’d become a blogger I did a “year in review” post, but in successive years I did not. This year will be no exception.
After all, you were all there to see what happened just as much as – and possibly more than – I was, so what’s the point, really?
I pretty well detailed the two major events in my life for the past year (moving to a new house, losing my job) as they happened, so there’s really nothing to review even on a personal level.
In any case, this is my last week of unemployed and unfettered freedom. What will I do with what’s left of my free time? What do you think?
Before doing my grocery shopping this morning I stopped to get a haircut. It’s pretty short, and when I look at myself in the mirror I can’t help but think that I look like some sort of 80’s Russian super hero in his civilian guise. It’s probably not quite short enough for military standards, but it does give me that flat top look that was common to the presentation of Soviet super heroes in the comics back in the day.
Of course, what I also see when I look in the mirror is gray.
I’ve mentioned before that the first hints of gray appeared in my hair all the way back when I was 21, a fact that my then-wife got much amusement from. By the time I was 30 the gray easily outnumbered any remnants of my former dirty blonde color, and recently I’ve come to realize that what I thought were hints of my original color still hanging on are, in fact, simply darker shades of gray than the predominant silvery white gray.
I’ve never seriously considered doing anything about the gray, given that I don’t feel that I have any cause to be vain enough to do anything other than let nature run its course, but now, with the new career looming on the horizon, I can’t help but wonder if it isn’t time that I reconsider.
Why not make it a truly fresh start and restore my hair to its former color? At 35 I am, in some people’s estimation, still a young man, and while unchecked whisker growth reveals that the gray has begun moving downward, it doesn’t have a beachhead everywhere just yet, so why not fight back before it manages to overwhelm me?
Of course, I run into the question of whether or not I want to be that guy. You know, the guy who dyes his hair.
So I’m at something of an impasse, and, taking advice from Kathleen, I put the question forth to you. What do you, the readers of Threshold think?
I realize that, at best, I’ll get a response from Scott and possibly Stacy – though her own coloring proclivities make her opinion on this subject of dubious value; I might well end up with chartreuse hair if I were to take her advice – but I’m putting the question out there anyway.
(A while back Scott and I failed to get together at the comic shop due to a miscommunication. Stacy had stated that I should blame it on her and write a blog entry about what a mean wife Scott has. There, vile harridan, I’ve zinged you!)
Kathleen was of the opinion that if I do decide to dye my hair I should have it done professionally. I’m more inclined to go the Just For Men route. I think that actually paying someone to dye it for me goes well beyond whatever levels of vanity I can muster.
In any case, the question is put forth: to dye or not to dye?
Leave your answers in the Comments (yeah, right; I won’t hold my breath waiting).
At the end of the first year in which I’d become a blogger I did a “year in review” post, but in successive years I did not. This year will be no exception.
After all, you were all there to see what happened just as much as – and possibly more than – I was, so what’s the point, really?
I pretty well detailed the two major events in my life for the past year (moving to a new house, losing my job) as they happened, so there’s really nothing to review even on a personal level.
In any case, this is my last week of unemployed and unfettered freedom. What will I do with what’s left of my free time? What do you think?
Before doing my grocery shopping this morning I stopped to get a haircut. It’s pretty short, and when I look at myself in the mirror I can’t help but think that I look like some sort of 80’s Russian super hero in his civilian guise. It’s probably not quite short enough for military standards, but it does give me that flat top look that was common to the presentation of Soviet super heroes in the comics back in the day.
Of course, what I also see when I look in the mirror is gray.
I’ve mentioned before that the first hints of gray appeared in my hair all the way back when I was 21, a fact that my then-wife got much amusement from. By the time I was 30 the gray easily outnumbered any remnants of my former dirty blonde color, and recently I’ve come to realize that what I thought were hints of my original color still hanging on are, in fact, simply darker shades of gray than the predominant silvery white gray.
I’ve never seriously considered doing anything about the gray, given that I don’t feel that I have any cause to be vain enough to do anything other than let nature run its course, but now, with the new career looming on the horizon, I can’t help but wonder if it isn’t time that I reconsider.
Why not make it a truly fresh start and restore my hair to its former color? At 35 I am, in some people’s estimation, still a young man, and while unchecked whisker growth reveals that the gray has begun moving downward, it doesn’t have a beachhead everywhere just yet, so why not fight back before it manages to overwhelm me?
Of course, I run into the question of whether or not I want to be that guy. You know, the guy who dyes his hair.
So I’m at something of an impasse, and, taking advice from Kathleen, I put the question forth to you. What do you, the readers of Threshold think?
I realize that, at best, I’ll get a response from Scott and possibly Stacy – though her own coloring proclivities make her opinion on this subject of dubious value; I might well end up with chartreuse hair if I were to take her advice – but I’m putting the question out there anyway.
(A while back Scott and I failed to get together at the comic shop due to a miscommunication. Stacy had stated that I should blame it on her and write a blog entry about what a mean wife Scott has. There, vile harridan, I’ve zinged you!)
Kathleen was of the opinion that if I do decide to dye my hair I should have it done professionally. I’m more inclined to go the Just For Men route. I think that actually paying someone to dye it for me goes well beyond whatever levels of vanity I can muster.
In any case, the question is put forth: to dye or not to dye?
Leave your answers in the Comments (yeah, right; I won’t hold my breath waiting).
Made Of Fail Part Four: I'm Not The Only One
Last time out I discussed the perception by some people that when it comes to women I’m too picky.
While I don’t think this perception reflects reality, even if it were true, and I were to suddenly change my discriminating ways, it really wouldn’t solve the problem of me being made of fail, as it fails to take one fact into account: I’m not the only one.
The belief that I could suddenly be made of something other than fail if I were to stop being so picky is dependent (at least in part) on the notion that women are not picky, and exercise no discernment whatsoever when it comes to choosing a potential mate, simply latching on to whatever is available.
I would posit that this is not the case, and, in fact, would respond with a derisive “Ha!” to anyone who suggested that it actually is the way of things.
Everyone, male and female, beautiful and otherwise, has some kind of set of standards or a wish list for potential mates. Even women who pick the worst kind of guys likely do so not because they just grabbed whatever was available, but because said guys match up with at least some items on their potential mate wish lists.
Everyone holds out at least a little bit of hope that someday that person who matches the wish list wish for wish will come along, but barring that, most people will settle for someone who at least hits the high points.
While I’ve never signed up for a paid membership, I have, over the years, checked out some of the online dating sites. As they say, “it’s okay to look.”
The fact that I’ve never been willing to shell out the money isn’t due to the fact that I’ve never seen anyone out there who appealed to me, it’s because, on reading the profiles of the people who did, I’ve generally found that I seldom meet the minimum requirements of even the least appealing (and likely most desperate) or the most open and receptive people I’ve seen.
Now, how strictly these women will hold to their list of requirements is debatable, I suppose, but if they’re taking the trouble to list them, they must be of some importance.
Sure, it’s possible that I could fake my way through some of them, but many of them are pretty much insurmountable obstacles, like height. Being tall seems to rank at the top on the potential mate wish lists of a lot of women.
And I mean a lot. Like percentages in the high 90s.
That’s one I can’t fake.
Could whatever other attractive qualities I may (do?) have make up for my lack of stature? Maybe, but honestly, I seldom see any of the qualities I do possess ranked as high (no pun intended) as height.
Still, the relative value of whatever attractive qualities I do possess is a topic for another day, and the point of this entry is that however picky I may or not be is only one part of the ingredients of the kind of fail of which I am made, and I would submit that the pickiness of others is a much more vital and plentiful ingredient.
While I don’t think this perception reflects reality, even if it were true, and I were to suddenly change my discriminating ways, it really wouldn’t solve the problem of me being made of fail, as it fails to take one fact into account: I’m not the only one.
The belief that I could suddenly be made of something other than fail if I were to stop being so picky is dependent (at least in part) on the notion that women are not picky, and exercise no discernment whatsoever when it comes to choosing a potential mate, simply latching on to whatever is available.
I would posit that this is not the case, and, in fact, would respond with a derisive “Ha!” to anyone who suggested that it actually is the way of things.
Everyone, male and female, beautiful and otherwise, has some kind of set of standards or a wish list for potential mates. Even women who pick the worst kind of guys likely do so not because they just grabbed whatever was available, but because said guys match up with at least some items on their potential mate wish lists.
Everyone holds out at least a little bit of hope that someday that person who matches the wish list wish for wish will come along, but barring that, most people will settle for someone who at least hits the high points.
While I’ve never signed up for a paid membership, I have, over the years, checked out some of the online dating sites. As they say, “it’s okay to look.”
The fact that I’ve never been willing to shell out the money isn’t due to the fact that I’ve never seen anyone out there who appealed to me, it’s because, on reading the profiles of the people who did, I’ve generally found that I seldom meet the minimum requirements of even the least appealing (and likely most desperate) or the most open and receptive people I’ve seen.
Now, how strictly these women will hold to their list of requirements is debatable, I suppose, but if they’re taking the trouble to list them, they must be of some importance.
Sure, it’s possible that I could fake my way through some of them, but many of them are pretty much insurmountable obstacles, like height. Being tall seems to rank at the top on the potential mate wish lists of a lot of women.
And I mean a lot. Like percentages in the high 90s.
That’s one I can’t fake.
Could whatever other attractive qualities I may (do?) have make up for my lack of stature? Maybe, but honestly, I seldom see any of the qualities I do possess ranked as high (no pun intended) as height.
Still, the relative value of whatever attractive qualities I do possess is a topic for another day, and the point of this entry is that however picky I may or not be is only one part of the ingredients of the kind of fail of which I am made, and I would submit that the pickiness of others is a much more vital and plentiful ingredient.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Keyword Kraziness: Kup Size Edition
I know it’s a little soon to be looking at these again, but there were a couple of search strings that I wanted to mention before my log resets itself and I lose them.
archie a racist superdickery
I’m not sure they actually cover much in the way of Archie-related stuff, but you might want to just go to Superdickery directly and take a look around.
lucy liu futurama says his name with a non robotic forum
Uh huh.
harley sings: i never knew that you and i were finished
I’ve mentioned this scene from Batman: The Animated Series in the past, and included the lyrics to the song (Say That We’re Sweethearts Again), but here’s a clip of the actual scene:
giada (bra size or cup size)
Yes, an oldie, but a goodie. I mention it only because in following the link to the search results displayed with my site stats I discovered that there is a Wiki site devoted entirely to big boobs. The site – Boobpedia (NSFW) – is a user-editable encyclopedia just like Wikipedia, except that it has a more specific purpose. Sadly, Giada is categorized under the heading “Cup Size Needed,” and her entry is simply a rehash of her Wikipedia entry, so no help there.
kirsten kemp babe
She certainly is.
threshold conpany pary
Uhh…? I’m guessing you meant Threshold Company Party. This Threshold is a blog, not a company (or conpany, for that matter), and isn’t so big on the parties, so no help for you here.
what is gia
I’m not sure what you’re asking. There’s a movie called Gia that features a young and very nude Angelina Jolie playing the role of model Gia Carangi, which rather famously includes a lesbian scene. Other than that, there are various porn stars who call themselves (or are actually named) Gia. Is it an acronym you’re looking for? If so, there is the Gemological Institute of America.
And that’s it for this edition of Keyword Kraziness.
archie a racist superdickery
I’m not sure they actually cover much in the way of Archie-related stuff, but you might want to just go to Superdickery directly and take a look around.
lucy liu futurama says his name with a non robotic forum
Uh huh.
harley sings: i never knew that you and i were finished
I’ve mentioned this scene from Batman: The Animated Series in the past, and included the lyrics to the song (Say That We’re Sweethearts Again), but here’s a clip of the actual scene:
giada (bra size or cup size)
Yes, an oldie, but a goodie. I mention it only because in following the link to the search results displayed with my site stats I discovered that there is a Wiki site devoted entirely to big boobs. The site – Boobpedia (NSFW) – is a user-editable encyclopedia just like Wikipedia, except that it has a more specific purpose. Sadly, Giada is categorized under the heading “Cup Size Needed,” and her entry is simply a rehash of her Wikipedia entry, so no help there.
kirsten kemp babe
She certainly is.
threshold conpany pary
Uhh…? I’m guessing you meant Threshold Company Party. This Threshold is a blog, not a company (or conpany, for that matter), and isn’t so big on the parties, so no help for you here.
what is gia
I’m not sure what you’re asking. There’s a movie called Gia that features a young and very nude Angelina Jolie playing the role of model Gia Carangi, which rather famously includes a lesbian scene. Other than that, there are various porn stars who call themselves (or are actually named) Gia. Is it an acronym you’re looking for? If so, there is the Gemological Institute of America.
And that’s it for this edition of Keyword Kraziness.
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