29 March 2005

Recently, I have come to the conclusion that I am doomed to be hip until I get fat. Perhaps "get fat" isn't the appropriate term, but until I can buy pants with a size 30 waist and not have to worry about pulling them up every two seconds, I have to buy my jeans from places like American Eagle or the Gap. The very idea that I have to buy my pants at these places isn't bad, I'm just saying I'm doomed to be dressed like a teenager/twenty-something until my waist looks more like that of a thirty-forty-something.

13 March 2005

Since my last post, a few things of note have occurred/occurred to me that I fee like taking some time to expound.

First, a wise person told me that I will die alone. Thank you, virtually anonymous comment-poster with horrible grammar, spelling, and punctuation skills, for bringing this to my attention. If only I had known this stark truth before you brought it to my attention, I would have been carpe diem-ing, as opposed to merely enjoying movies. Once again, thank you, virtually anonymous comment-poster. I was then and I am still glad to know that you took the time out of your very busy schedule to comment on my life. You are wonderful. Now, on to things that actually affect my life.

My job is not pleasant. Each day is another day closer to payday, that most magical of days in which I realize that the time I spent on the phone, sitting on my ass, doing a genuinely half-assed job has monetary gain. With my first major purchased checked off the list, I can now work to increase my international travel/get the hell out of my parents' house fund*. Each day at work is dismal, but lately, I've been able to make steady improvements to my regiment for dealing with a job that makes Sideways look like an exciting film. For example, I've started getting most of my work done in the morning and taking a late lunch, so my return to work comes over halfway through the ordeal. Also, I've discovered that a Samuel Adams at lunch makes the remaining three and a half hours feel like a mere three hours and fifteen minutes--a tremendous accomplishment for my favorite patriot.

I've discovered that my friends, who are mere children, are getting married. Suckers.

I've joined the Old Chicago World Beer Tour and the Rock Bottom Mug Club.

Writing a screenplay in French is not easy when you don't speak French well. Nonetheless, I'm using my company's time and resources to work on a new project. Late in the afternoon, if the managers were still around, they would discover that I have more windows open on my computer related to personal projects and friends than I do for actual work. Eh. Perhaps even "neh."

A part of me wants to quit my decent-paying job and take a low-paying Disney job, live in rent-controlled apartments, and have fun. The other part of me is my 4th vertebra.