LOOOOOOOOOONG RANT TIME!:
Sorry, y'all, but you may have noticed I haven't been writing much lately, of any variety (I started the McGee blog at the end of a regular McGee reading-binge and just haven't had the gumption for critical re-reading, which sucks- I'm not great at criticism, but I'm not terrible either, and I undertook the new blog knowing what I wanted to do with it. I found an interesting book of letters between John D. and Dan Rowan (of "Laugh-In") with some good background for the- Ya know what? I despise calling it criticism. If I were a good writer, with balls enough to FINISH anything, much less submit it, I might feel differently, but I'm not. I'm a giant wuss, and I'm terrified of really embarking on any real writing project- where my heart lives, where the blood flows deep red- fullscale. (I'm ridonkulously proud of a few Halloween outfits I've made [hey-ya, Janek: Marvin the Martian? That shit rocked!] because they're all I have to prove ANY true creativity in the past... what, 5, 10, 12, years? No, I gotta say, anyone who doesn't think my Wonder Woman and Mrs. Lovett outfits didn't rock can kiss my grits. They truly were impressive, particularly for being done by hand). So, tangent aside, I've marked The Most Important Bio To Date of John D. on my Amazon list. I love the idea of having a Really Comprehensive McGee Site, I like fooling in Photoshop with the pretty page I built, and I'm very proud of myself for researching how to be minimally competent in a new page language I'd never been aware of before. Especially since I tend to SUCK at any spoken language- "Como te llamas?" sounds lame in even a faint Southern accent, and let's not even get into "Voulez-vous couchez avec moi?" Not that I've had much chance to USE that particular phrase, I'm just sayin'.... Anyway, I very badly want to get up, to get up offa that thang, and get some damn content up. I've got a half-draft saved recapping the 1st McGee book, but I don't wanna just post the Cliffs Notes version- no matter how in-depth- they're not anywhere near what my backwhen profs woulda called my "potential." What very little I think I'm capable of, with or without some fancypants research trip to (BOOOOOOOOO!!!) UF, I'm just putting off potential failure- on the Internet, oooh, how awful (yeah, people SEE it, but it doesn't make the New York Times- and, shoot, word is the Grey Lady might fail before too much longer. Damn shame). Yep, I'm an egotistical cow, but I've read critical sites- books and movies- that SUCK, and I get the butt-itch; just like I do with Ben Stiller movies; and die a little inside thinking how desperately I don't wanna be that guy. Or girl. Or woman, if we have to be feministy about terminology. So tonight I"m just urping up the verbiage. If you care, here's a long update on What's In Jenny's Brain (I dunno why you'd care, but SOMEBODY's giving me page hits, and it ain't just my mama, cuz the page count doesn't do repeats, and the new, too-fancy header crashes that elderly CPU (Sorry, Mommy!)- so if you're out there and give a shit, here's my current "BLARGHHH!" Pls excuse the messiness. :)
I am RILLY annoyed with my new apartment complex. Yar, I know, I was madly in love widdem, but right now I just feel pissy. Just in general. I wish I'd MADE them give me the 3 bedroom apt, for the space, WE NEED IT, but wahhhhh! I couldn't excuse that for just one person within their income limitations. More important-and more currently- the neighbors upstairs (whom I've never seen, and am terrified to confront in case they're scary) have been doing what I SWEAR ON THE BIBLE sounds just exactly like bowling for the last few nights, til 3 or 4 or 5 AM- NO joke, I can describe it at length (and have, this week, to travel agents at work when the computer's taking too long or to GS people when I do something stoopid and have to explain why: I'm not normally dumb, I'm just sleep depped!). So today I mentioned it to one of the new, older (yeah, "older," she mighta been Dan's age, at most. Oooooh, 46!! God, I HATE being grown up!) ladies in the apt office, and she immejutly called the guy- I was mad impressed by her promptness- and, holy cow, she reamed him, with commentary to follow ("After all I've done for him! He seems so nice! I just can't believe he'd be so inconsiderate! I've raised my daughters in apartments and they know better than that! They live in fear of stepping too hard, and they're 22 and 15!" I tell ya, I believed her. She was scary like when my mama gets lecturey). She's totally my new hero (at least 'til I get busted for something and go all, "Screw authority figures, I hate her!" Let's hope it takes a while. She was great). Turns out the neighbors are supposedly packing to move (yeah, that ain't what it SOUNDED like). But hey, if they're gone at least I can sleep again, at least 'til new peeps move in, even if it is weird and lumpy "WHATWASTHATNOISE?!!"sleep when Dan's away. I felt kinda guilty about the lady reaming the guy- we're very, very lucky to live over young dudes who seem not to give a damn when Micah decides he NEEDS to watch a movie in full theatre style surround sound- wait, my bad, we don't have the back-wall woofers, so it's not really "surround" sound- or when I get beery and decide Dan's son (great kid, BTW), needs a stereo Edumacation in some of the History of Rock and Roll: why the Rolling Stones' early years are important, with references to the "Dirty White Boys," the British Invasion (actually, I left some vital stuff out there, come to think of it), the Sexual Revolution, the POTC movies and Johnny Depp's inspiration and the nuclear 'splosion/cockroaches-and-Keith-Richards jokes (with pictorial examples), and why George Harrison was the best Beatle, period, particularly post-Beatles and not just cause he was the cute spiritual one- and, damn, I forgot the whole "Layla," Clapton, Derek-and-the-Dominoes-and-Cream part. Thank God I did, poor Sam might have jumped over the balcony. Yeah, I was kinda on a roll. A loud one. ANYWAY.... We're loudish, but the boys downstairs seem to be college-stoner-types- and one has AMAZING daytime babymama dramas in the parking lot including airborne car seats (Thank goodness, without the baby- that mess was ENTHRALLING) so hey, I say we're even.
On top of that, I got off work late today (but booked 4G's on the overtime call, hey-hey-hey!) and had to nearly KILL MYSELF, sans car insurance, in rush hour traffic, to get to the Verizon store up the road (and got a sweet, accomodating rep who tried really hard to get me a similar new number- he did get 2 digits in common, yay - and told me to call or text him anytime- thank God for hooters, cause I have had SO many bad Verizon store rep experiences, and that's all I can think of that coulda changed my luck) to change to an Orlando phone number today, no matter WHAT, after 2 years of living down here, after having the same Tallahassee number for... shoot, I don't even know. Since 2002 or -3. All because of the frickin' security gate here, which hasn't worked since we moved in (YAY!). They finally fixed the damn entry gate so it'll close at 7 PM as of tonight (DAMN!), so if you don't have a gatecard you have to use the keycode to call the resident (Remember: officially, I'm the only person who lives here. Adding either of the guys (even Dan, even minus the money to his real, legal family he supports, and that income- even Micah's and my God-only-knows-WHAT-you'll-get commision (but my job calls it incentive) to the lease would get us thrown out cuz we collectively make too much money (SAY WHAAAA?!? We're HORRIFICALLY broke collectively, and on the verge of bankruptcy, individually. TOO MUCH MONEY? Damn, we must be rolling in green for this joint!) to get to keep the place. The gate won't take an out-of-area-code number, and with Dan working 2 jobs, me working daytimes, and Micah working whenever he's scheduled (or just up and called in to do deals), plus his awesome girlfriend randomly stopping by, one gate key just won't do... but of course, I'm the "only person who lives here," so I had to change my number to stay safe. I dunno if extra peeps would really cause problems, but I'll be darned if I wanna find out. It's SO annoying, cause I have to let everyone on God's green earth know the new number- when you've had the same one for 6 or 7 years, that's no joke. Friends, family, work, doctors, ALL the places I do business with... ARGH. Nice thing is, the student loan Nazis can't find me for a while- they shouldn't be calling, anyway, but I don't have the energy to bust out a proper legal cease-and-desist on 'em like I should've done a couple of years ago. That's what the "Ignore" button is for, anyway....
.... The button on my beautiful new phone, that is- did I tell y'all about that? I got the enV Touch (I had a regular, original enV last time) after playing with the various touch phones at the Verizon store (and OHMYGAWD, some pree-vert had tried the web browsers by looking up porn sites, and the staff left it on there! Maybe they didn't know?) and ARGH, I am in lurve with my phone. Feel cheesy about it cause it's been so heavily advertised, but it really does ezactly what I want- it's got a touchy-feely front that does the cool horizontal-or-vertical view thing like the fancypants iPhone, then flips open to a proper button-pokey qwerty keyboard for texting and whatnot. And, best of all, when my new-every-two discounts kicked in, the sucker was gonna cost me 50 bucks, so I waited, cause it was rent week, and the next week they dropped the prices and it was FREE. Hey-o! I was a very happy bunny. Still am, cause oh, I woulda been so pissed... like wasting 50 bucks on that moron endocrinologist- I'm still not over that one.
So... yeah. That's the here and now, for now.
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