Today was the kind of day in which I want the world to know that it can suck it.
Or, if it wants, it can even go fuck itself.
It wasn't exactly the worst day ever - that day actually came three years ago on this date when my dad died.
(That fact, of course, added to the general shittiness of the day.)
Still, it definitely started out heading in that direction, from the cold, rainy gloominess, to the school bus that caused me to get stuck through a complete light cycle before I could get to the Greenway, to the stupid, panic-stricken people driving on the Greenway (ZOMG! It's RAINING!!!!!11111), to the new project (that needs to be done tomorrow, kthxbai!) dumped in my lap.
Yesterday morning, being tired, I opted to buy a Monster energy drink, and didn't notice until it was too late that it was low-carb (read: chemically-simulated sugar replacement with attendant chemical aftertaste) version, so this morning, being tired again because I inexplicably couldn't sleep last night, I decided to be more cautious, and since they didn't have high-carb Monster, I grabbed a Red Bull...and discovered too late that it was a sugar-free Red Bull. Seriously, what is the point of low-carb or sugar-free energy drinks? They're bad for you no matter what, so why not go all out?
Things kind of levelled off after the bland sandwich I had for lunch, though, and actually reversed the downward trend a little in the afternoon.
I had a meeting with some people from one of the companies I work with, and when I brought them around to meet my boss they had, to use the phrase from those Windows 7 commercials, a lot of "happy words" to say about me.
That's always good.
(As was seeing one of the people who works for said company, as she's hot and has an incredibly sexy accent, though on the downside I only see her, at best, once a year, and she lives on the other side of the planet. And also, I suck, so it wouldn't matter if I saw her every day and she lived right next door.)
Still, it didn't realy balance out the crappiness of the rest of the day.
Tomorrow will find me - most likely tired again - in non-stop meetings from 10 AM to 5 PM. Did I mention that the world can suck it?
Update: Okay, you can stop sucking it, world. Or at least, stop sucking it so hard. It's difficult to stay mad when you check your mail and you find that you've gotten this from your niece:
Hi Uncle Jon what's up. I just wanted to thank you for my $25 and my card. I thought the card was funny, you are really funny. I got a gift card for Wal- mart, $110 in cash and 2 checks,and a DS game called Brain Age 2. So thanks for everthing
Love,
Jenni
Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Journey Into The Unknown
I realized the other day that tomorrow will mark the 6th anniversary of my arrival in Virginia.
I remember the day fairly clearly, as the whole thing just seemed sort of surreal.
I started out the day in Tucson, where it was sunny and hot, and by the end of the day I was in Virginia, where it was nearly fifty degrees colder.
Shortly after I’d gotten up that morning, people showed up to load my car onto a truck to haul it to Virginia, and some time later the movers arrived and promptly emptied out my apartment.
Then it was off to the bus stop to catch a ride to the airport to have my first post-9/11 flying experience. I ended up being the person that was randomly-selected to be taken aside and more thoroughly searched. I think it was the leather jacket that did it.
AOL actually sprung for first class, which is when I learned that if you can get it as a cheap or free upgrade, it’s totally worth it, but it’s not worth the extra expense if you have to pay full price. Not if you’re not flying for more than a couple of hours, at any rate.
I had a layover in Denver, where I discovered that there was a bar in the airport that was designated as a smoking area, so I hauled my ass over to it. It had a two-drink minimum, but the place was so crowded that I was able to sneak in two cigarettes before anyone noticed me and tried to enforce the rule.
Though I’d lived in Tucson for nearly two years, I hadn’t lost my Northern-born tolerance for the cold. I remember getting off the plane at Dulles and feeling that initial chill and thinking, “Oh, right; cold,” then immediately acclimating to it.
Leaving the car rental area, in the dark, with only a print out of driving directions to guide me to the corporate housing, I naturally got hopelessly lost, ending up making multiple trips through toll plazas until finally spotting an exit for a street I recognized from the print out.
Knowing that I was in the general vicinity, but unable to spot any of the streets I was looking for, I drove around for about a half an hour until, defeated and thirsty, I stopped at a gas station to buy something to drink and to ask for directions.
No one at the gas station knew the place I was looking for, so I got back in the car to do some further searching. To get back onto the road I’d been on I had to take a right turn from the gas station parking lot and make a U-turn at the street running parallel to the street I was trying to get back to. As I was making the turn, I noticed that this, in fact, was the street I was looking for, and about 1,500 feet to my left was the corporate housing.
I’m forced to conclude that the people working in the gas station who didn’t recognize that the place I was looking for was right fucking there were either complete morons or complete assholes.
In short order I was checked into the corporate housing, which was an extended stay hotel, and was ready to start my new adventure.
By this time I’d hit the reset button on life a couple of times, but this time it felt like it was going to stick. I was, for the first time in my life, completely on my own: no friends, no family, and in a completely unfamiliar place.
I felt hopeful and uncharacteristically optimistic about the future.
Naturally that didn’t last, but still, it was a nice couple of minutes.
That Wednesday, like this one, was the day before Thanksgiving. I ended up spending the day alone in the hotel room, and my Thanksgiving dinner was a turkey sub from the Subway Express inside the gas station.
On the Friday I was taken apartment-hunting by a “Relocation Specialist,” and ended up finding a place in Ashburn. At that point I didn’t know where I was going to be working, as the NOC at that time had people working in Reston and Manassas. Those were just abstract place names for me at the time, though, and I trusted the Relocation Specialist when she said that I’d chosen a suitable location for a commute to either place. It ended up being Reston, which really wasn’t much a commute at all, so it actually worked out surprisingly well.
So that’s the abbreviated story of how Jon ended up in Virginia six years ago. Sure, it’s not exactly The Pilgrim’s Progress, but I still think it’s kind of entertaining.
There’s considerably less going on in my life now than there was 6 years ago. I’m mostly just waiting to get through tomorrow so I can start my long weekend.
Tomorrow, in commemoration of my auspicious arrival, will be Riff Trax night.
Actually, it’s just Riff Trax night and doesn’t commemorate anything.
Still, we’ll be able to get an early start on it, as I get off work at 3 (and probably even earlier than that).
Thursday I’ll be having dinner at Jamie and Casey’s house, along with Scott, Stacy, and their brood.
Beyond that, I have no plans for my time off. I’ll probably sleep a lot.
I sure as hell won’t be going out and shopping on Black Friday.
I remember the day fairly clearly, as the whole thing just seemed sort of surreal.
I started out the day in Tucson, where it was sunny and hot, and by the end of the day I was in Virginia, where it was nearly fifty degrees colder.
Shortly after I’d gotten up that morning, people showed up to load my car onto a truck to haul it to Virginia, and some time later the movers arrived and promptly emptied out my apartment.
Then it was off to the bus stop to catch a ride to the airport to have my first post-9/11 flying experience. I ended up being the person that was randomly-selected to be taken aside and more thoroughly searched. I think it was the leather jacket that did it.
AOL actually sprung for first class, which is when I learned that if you can get it as a cheap or free upgrade, it’s totally worth it, but it’s not worth the extra expense if you have to pay full price. Not if you’re not flying for more than a couple of hours, at any rate.
I had a layover in Denver, where I discovered that there was a bar in the airport that was designated as a smoking area, so I hauled my ass over to it. It had a two-drink minimum, but the place was so crowded that I was able to sneak in two cigarettes before anyone noticed me and tried to enforce the rule.
Though I’d lived in Tucson for nearly two years, I hadn’t lost my Northern-born tolerance for the cold. I remember getting off the plane at Dulles and feeling that initial chill and thinking, “Oh, right; cold,” then immediately acclimating to it.
Leaving the car rental area, in the dark, with only a print out of driving directions to guide me to the corporate housing, I naturally got hopelessly lost, ending up making multiple trips through toll plazas until finally spotting an exit for a street I recognized from the print out.
Knowing that I was in the general vicinity, but unable to spot any of the streets I was looking for, I drove around for about a half an hour until, defeated and thirsty, I stopped at a gas station to buy something to drink and to ask for directions.
No one at the gas station knew the place I was looking for, so I got back in the car to do some further searching. To get back onto the road I’d been on I had to take a right turn from the gas station parking lot and make a U-turn at the street running parallel to the street I was trying to get back to. As I was making the turn, I noticed that this, in fact, was the street I was looking for, and about 1,500 feet to my left was the corporate housing.
I’m forced to conclude that the people working in the gas station who didn’t recognize that the place I was looking for was right fucking there were either complete morons or complete assholes.
In short order I was checked into the corporate housing, which was an extended stay hotel, and was ready to start my new adventure.
By this time I’d hit the reset button on life a couple of times, but this time it felt like it was going to stick. I was, for the first time in my life, completely on my own: no friends, no family, and in a completely unfamiliar place.
I felt hopeful and uncharacteristically optimistic about the future.
Naturally that didn’t last, but still, it was a nice couple of minutes.
That Wednesday, like this one, was the day before Thanksgiving. I ended up spending the day alone in the hotel room, and my Thanksgiving dinner was a turkey sub from the Subway Express inside the gas station.
On the Friday I was taken apartment-hunting by a “Relocation Specialist,” and ended up finding a place in Ashburn. At that point I didn’t know where I was going to be working, as the NOC at that time had people working in Reston and Manassas. Those were just abstract place names for me at the time, though, and I trusted the Relocation Specialist when she said that I’d chosen a suitable location for a commute to either place. It ended up being Reston, which really wasn’t much a commute at all, so it actually worked out surprisingly well.
So that’s the abbreviated story of how Jon ended up in Virginia six years ago. Sure, it’s not exactly The Pilgrim’s Progress, but I still think it’s kind of entertaining.
There’s considerably less going on in my life now than there was 6 years ago. I’m mostly just waiting to get through tomorrow so I can start my long weekend.
Tomorrow, in commemoration of my auspicious arrival, will be Riff Trax night.
Actually, it’s just Riff Trax night and doesn’t commemorate anything.
Still, we’ll be able to get an early start on it, as I get off work at 3 (and probably even earlier than that).
Thursday I’ll be having dinner at Jamie and Casey’s house, along with Scott, Stacy, and their brood.
Beyond that, I have no plans for my time off. I’ll probably sleep a lot.
I sure as hell won’t be going out and shopping on Black Friday.
Friday, August 29, 2008
The Little Blog That Couldn't
When I launched this blog on August 29, 2004, I never dreamed that it would go on to become an Internet phenomenon with a daily readership in the millions, or that it would lead to all sorts of lucrative writing gigs and go on to become one of the most significant sites in the earliest part of the 21st Century.
And it’s a good thing that I didn’t, because none of that shit ever happened.
Even so, today marks Threshold’s 4th birthday, and while its total regular readership is a number not much higher than its age, it’s still a milestone that deserves some recognition.
So, um, consider it recognized.
More importantly, though, I need to recognize and thank the handful of people who have helped make Threshold the stunning success that it isn’t. Thanks everyone!
Of course, Threshold shares a birthday with the lovely and talented Carla Gugino, and so, as has become a tradition, and by way of sending out birthday greetings to her, I’ve included a picture I’ve done of Ms. Gugino:
It’s not the picture I wanted to do, but that picture – while cool and sexy – was a royal pain in the ass. Maybe next year.
Also, I freely admit that this picture kind of sucks. So, I guess in addition to wishing Ms. Gugino a happy birthday, I should probably also apologize. Oh well.
Anyway, I’ll be back later with a regular post, but I thought I should post something to acknowledge this special day.
And it’s a good thing that I didn’t, because none of that shit ever happened.
Even so, today marks Threshold’s 4th birthday, and while its total regular readership is a number not much higher than its age, it’s still a milestone that deserves some recognition.
So, um, consider it recognized.
More importantly, though, I need to recognize and thank the handful of people who have helped make Threshold the stunning success that it isn’t. Thanks everyone!
Of course, Threshold shares a birthday with the lovely and talented Carla Gugino, and so, as has become a tradition, and by way of sending out birthday greetings to her, I’ve included a picture I’ve done of Ms. Gugino:
It’s not the picture I wanted to do, but that picture – while cool and sexy – was a royal pain in the ass. Maybe next year.
Also, I freely admit that this picture kind of sucks. So, I guess in addition to wishing Ms. Gugino a happy birthday, I should probably also apologize. Oh well.
Anyway, I’ll be back later with a regular post, but I thought I should post something to acknowledge this special day.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Eight Years
I mentioned yesterday that there were two significant anniversaries coming up over the next two days.
The first one is today: I’ve been sober for eight years.
I was going to write a long entry on the subject, but really, what is there for me to say?
While the last eight years haven’t exactly been a constant struggle to resist temptation, I can’t honestly say that they’ve been easy either.
Still, I’ve made it, and I can’t foresee myself not continuing to do so, and while I don’t have a lot to say about it – or maybe I have too much to say about it – I couldn’t let the day pass without noting it.
I mention it not because of pride, but because of humility.
Eight years is a long time, but it’s only because of those eight years behind me that I have even more time ahead of me.
In any case, that’s all I’m going to say about it other than to thank the people – especially my parents – who have supported me along the way. Maybe I could have done it on my own, but I’m glad that I didn’t have to.
Okay, getting a little teary here, so I guess we’ll get back to your regularly scheduled Threshold, already in progress…
“…and then I said, ‘I’m Thor!’ And she said, ‘You’re thore? I’m tho thore I can hardly pith!’”
Much of my day at work yesterday was spent on a conference call. When attempting to rejoin after a break, I misdialed the number, and instead of hearing a recording of a cold, impersonal voice telling me to enter my conference code number and press pound, I heard a really, really friendly voice saying, “Hi honey, it’s Kylie! I’m so glad you called to talk to me and all of my hot, slutty friends!”
I can only hope that there have been other people who have similarly misdialed and called a phone sex line.
And for their sakes I hope they hung up as quickly as I did.
I told my boss about it today because a. it was funny and b. I want her to be aware of the fact that it was an accident should anyone monitoring the phone logs point it out to her.
The funny part was that when I rejoined the actual call, there was some guy whose phone wasn’t muted occasionally moaning and making “mmm” sounds, as if he’d dialed that other number. I’m thinking that maybe he was trying to call the phone sex line and misdialed and got the conference bridge instead, but, deciding that since life had given him lemons he would make lemons and make the best of it. After all, there was a woman talking at the time.
Sure, talking about telephone billing and provisioning systems isn’t exactly sexy to most people, but there’s a kink for just about everything, so maybe that’s what gets him hot. “Ooh, yeah, that’s it baby, work that provisioning system! Yeah, address that question about billing. Oh yeah, oh yeah, the FOC date is gonna come early!”
When I was talking to the boss today she mentioned that tomorrow, being the Friday before a long weekend, was going to be a short, light day and that if I wanted to I could just work from home.
Being the dedicated employee that I am, I of course refused the offer and will be up at 7 AM sharp, and will soon be fighting traffic and – are you nuts? Of course I’m going to work from home!
In any case, I suppose I should bring this entry to a close so that I can prepare for tomorrow’s exciting anniversary post.
The first one is today: I’ve been sober for eight years.
I was going to write a long entry on the subject, but really, what is there for me to say?
While the last eight years haven’t exactly been a constant struggle to resist temptation, I can’t honestly say that they’ve been easy either.
Still, I’ve made it, and I can’t foresee myself not continuing to do so, and while I don’t have a lot to say about it – or maybe I have too much to say about it – I couldn’t let the day pass without noting it.
I mention it not because of pride, but because of humility.
Eight years is a long time, but it’s only because of those eight years behind me that I have even more time ahead of me.
In any case, that’s all I’m going to say about it other than to thank the people – especially my parents – who have supported me along the way. Maybe I could have done it on my own, but I’m glad that I didn’t have to.
Okay, getting a little teary here, so I guess we’ll get back to your regularly scheduled Threshold, already in progress…
“…and then I said, ‘I’m Thor!’ And she said, ‘You’re thore? I’m tho thore I can hardly pith!’”
Much of my day at work yesterday was spent on a conference call. When attempting to rejoin after a break, I misdialed the number, and instead of hearing a recording of a cold, impersonal voice telling me to enter my conference code number and press pound, I heard a really, really friendly voice saying, “Hi honey, it’s Kylie! I’m so glad you called to talk to me and all of my hot, slutty friends!”
I can only hope that there have been other people who have similarly misdialed and called a phone sex line.
And for their sakes I hope they hung up as quickly as I did.
I told my boss about it today because a. it was funny and b. I want her to be aware of the fact that it was an accident should anyone monitoring the phone logs point it out to her.
The funny part was that when I rejoined the actual call, there was some guy whose phone wasn’t muted occasionally moaning and making “mmm” sounds, as if he’d dialed that other number. I’m thinking that maybe he was trying to call the phone sex line and misdialed and got the conference bridge instead, but, deciding that since life had given him lemons he would make lemons and make the best of it. After all, there was a woman talking at the time.
Sure, talking about telephone billing and provisioning systems isn’t exactly sexy to most people, but there’s a kink for just about everything, so maybe that’s what gets him hot. “Ooh, yeah, that’s it baby, work that provisioning system! Yeah, address that question about billing. Oh yeah, oh yeah, the FOC date is gonna come early!”
When I was talking to the boss today she mentioned that tomorrow, being the Friday before a long weekend, was going to be a short, light day and that if I wanted to I could just work from home.
Being the dedicated employee that I am, I of course refused the offer and will be up at 7 AM sharp, and will soon be fighting traffic and – are you nuts? Of course I’m going to work from home!
In any case, I suppose I should bring this entry to a close so that I can prepare for tomorrow’s exciting anniversary post.
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