Hear me roar

I don't know why, but I registered myself in the Halo/Madden tournament at CSUN. And I played (Halo). I knew I wouldn't even come close to winning, but I did better than I thought. I actually made it to round two. How, you ask? Because I got teamed up with some crazy Asian kid who's had an Xbox since before he was reincarnated into his human form. So the more I talked to this crazy Asian kid, the more I found out about him. I learned that he's played in the L.A. tournament and came in 3rd place! In L.A.! Insane! And I learned that he's mean... He told me not to play. He said "Don't shoot anyone. Just hide and I'll kill. If they shoot you, hide until you recharge." Ouch. No one talks to me like that. I may be a n00b compared to you, four eyes, but I'm no imbecile. So I played. I didn't do too badly, when you consider that I've only had Halo for the summer. And that I'm a girl. Sorry, feminist movement, it's true. There were about 30 guys there and only 2 girls! And the other girl looked like a guy.

g'day

It is 4 a.m.
I set my alarm clock for 6:30, which is a crime in itself on a Saturday morning. But the piece of k-mart-bought trash which I identify as my alarm clock protested and woke me up three hours earlier than we agreed on. Not very kind. So I am wandering around aimlessly. I don't want to go back to sleep because then I have to go through the struggle of liberating myself of the nocturnal world (wake up) again. It is 4 a.m. and it is dark, but it is morning for me.

Ok. Also, my fist is in a bowl of ice because I have spyware. How are they related, you ask? Oh, they are 1st cousins... because spyware slows down my computer and a slow computer makes me slam my fist onto the keyboard.

Good morning.

Your call is important to us, please hold

I keep getting bills from AOL. My service was cancelled long ago, but they keep sending me "confirmation letters", expressing how overjoyed they are that I have decided to continue with their service. My quest to cancel once and for all proved to be a long, frustrating, and futile attempt to save myself $14.95 a month.

I made my first call to the cancellation department at around 6:15 and I was put on hold for about 10 minutes. I hung up and tried again and this time I reached an operator who told me that she was sorry, but the number I dialed had been disconnected and that I should hang up and try my call again. I called the cancellation department again and was put on hold again. Some cheesey music started playing and after a few minutes I heard a click again. I became frustrated and decided to call the AOL sign-up department, just to see if someone was alive. I reached someone in 8 seconds.

"Hello, my name is Rob, may I help you set up an AOL account this evening?"
"No, Rob, I would like to cancel my existing AOL account, for I am unsatisfied with it."
"Ok, let me transfer you to the cancellation department."
"No--" (click)

I called the sign-up department again and this time reached Angel.

"Hi, I'm Angel, would you like to set up an account?"
"Angel, I am calling to cancel my existing account and I refuse to call the cancellation department because I believe it is deserted."
"Just a second..." (click)

This time I tried calling the billing error department. I had no luck. The billing error department seems to be run by recordings. I called sign-up again and got a new phone number for cancellation. Armed with this weapon, I prepared my angry speech which the phone operator would endure.

After 10 minutes, Frank from the cancellation department answered.

"Good evening, I'm Frank, how may I help you?"
"Hello, Frank! Are you a person or a recording?"
"Umm.. I am a person?"
"Oh! I'm relieved to heard that, I was beginning to think that the cancellation department was just a myth like unicorns and bigfoot."
"Pardon?"
"I've been trying to reach y'all all night and I end up nowhere... The phone number mysteriously fades away into nothingness."
"I'm sorry to hear that you are upset, how can I fix this?"
"Well, I keep getting billed from AOL and I am no longer happy with the service. Please stop billing my account."

I got my reimbursement, the end. Hows that for a crashing halt of an ending?

!($&#)!&$(!@)`$*%&#^!@~*$^%&$!

I'm gonna rock the vote so hard, both parties will feel it!!!

Beauty is in the eye of the beerholder

Today, I went and sat outside for a while and breathed in the nice, fresh construction. Then, a short and cute-as-a-button blonde student crept up. I couldn't help but notice her pink sweater set, Chanel earrings, and Prada bag. She approached me with the same gimmick that I had already heard several times.

Cut to scene:

Girl: Hieeeeee, I was wondering, do you usually go to pricey salons to get your hair cut?
Me: No.
Girl: Well, how about color... Doesn't it cost you a lot for color and highlights?
Me: I never color. Sometimes I even cut it myself.
Girl: (face twisting in horror) Well, right now this salon (pulls out brochure) is offering a cut, color, and deep conditioning treatment for 64.99. That's over a $300 value! You're basically spending what you would normally on a haircut on all this!
Me: My Supercut haircuts cost me 11.99...
Girl: Yes! But, these are all professional stylists trained at Vidal Sassoon Academy.
Me: When I get 12 haircuts, the 13th is free.
Girl: Well, the purpose of this is to pamper yourself sooooo much that you love it and keep coming back! And you can tell your friends! That way, you're a walking advertisement!
Me: Aha! An ulterior motive...
Girl: Well, you know, we don't just ask anyone off the streets to join in on our offer... You have to have a certain look. We pick the girls who--
Me: --look like they need it most desperately?
Girl: Nooo! It's just the opposite! We're not going to pick a girl who looks like 'ohmigod, like what is wrong with her hair?!' We only ask ones who have nice healthy hair and who look like they would want to take care of themselves. You have really nice hair, but you're not really showing it off.
Me: Mhmm. Well, as you can tell, I am a student and I really don't have that kind of money to spend on hair. Thanks for "considering" me, though...

Attn: Bristow, Sydney A. ID-CLASS: USS-CI-2300844

http://greenlandiscold.blogspot.com/2004/09/blog-this-blog-that.html

Death, hast thou come so soon?

I almost died this morning. Well, kind of. I was taking the train to CSUN and it arrives at 9:01. Well, I was running late and got to the station at 9:00 exactly. So I have to buy a ticket from the machine before I board. Just as I was getting my change (my freakin' Sacagawea coins that the machine gives me such an abundance of), the train came. So I was on the left side of the train and the doors open on the right side platform. I knew I'd never make it to run across before the train came, so I decided to go behind the train and go around it after it came to a stop. It was PERFECT... I knew I was saved. I was going to make it. The train had stopped and I was just behind it about to turn. Suddenly the train groaned and creaked and backed up on me. I died. Ok no, I lied. But my foot did get caught on the track and I did trip and fall on the coal and stuff. One thing I noticed about falling... It takes so long. You lose your balance and you stumble and just when you think it's over, you realize you're not done falling yet. It takes such a long time and it goes in slow motion. So I got up and noticed that my jeans were ripped at the knees (yay!) and I was gushing blood (aww). I got on the train with my friend who saw all that had happened. I really was gushing blood so I asked the conductor for a bandage and he looked at me and asked "Did you cross the tracks?" I lied and said "No, I went from the back platform." He repeated, "Did you cross the tracks??..." "NO! I just tripped on the platform!" "Are you sure you didn't cross the tracks? It's a misdemeanor, you know... And there is a sheriff on board." Sigh. Ok, so now I'm dead and I have a record. Whatever. I got my bandage and some rubbing alcohol, but it did no good for my broken heart and wounded pride :'( ... I got to school and went to the basement of the library and read Grimm's Fairy Tales for about an hour. Now I'm upstairs and I'm blogging. That's all. I AM ALIVE!

85% Democratic Party, 15% God's Party

The CSUN Republican Club was giving out bumper stickers today. I asked for a "Viva Bush" bumper sticker because I thought it was funny. They said I had to sign up first. I really wanted one... So I'm in the Republican Club now.
The thing is, it was a really hot day. And the GLBSA was giving out cold water with sign ups...

That's a wrap

My two weeks notice is up, I quit work today. So... A few last minute observations I made at The Bowl: I was very surprised to learn that a classy joint like that has its bathrooms equipped with one ply toilet paper. I mean, come on... I have two or three ply at my house. I also realized that in my two months of working in a very public place, I have gotten over most of my inhibitions. I'm actually very used to people now. Two months of giving directions to strangers, seating people, dealing with unwanted advances, and kicking people who grope can really change a person.

In other Bowl related news, some woman tried to get past me after the show had just ended. I told her I couldn't let her pass and she started yelling at me. I believe her exact words were: "Are you kidding me? Jesus flippin' Christ! The show's over! I hate you people! I hope you die!" After kindly pointing out to her that death is an inescapable end for all of us, I escorted her out.

And to end this on a sad note, a CD I had loaned to one of my backstage friends did not find its way back into my hands.

Eighteen and I like it

Yo I'm officially 18 years old. Woohoo! Buy me presents.

L 79050996 E and L 79050997 E

There's something mysteriously special about consecutive money.  Money is a great thing to have.  But to have consecutive money in your possession... Ah, my friend, you are favored by the gods. 
Speaking of money, I really detest tri-fold wallets.  Because when you have a trifold wallet, you get tri-fold money.  As unproblematic as that sounds, it is a really perplexing task having to fold each and every one of those bills flat when leaving tips in restaurants.  I'm just not cut of for that kind of strenuous labor.   

One man's Hades is another man's Valhalla

I'm beginning to hate my job. I got called "rude" by another usher because I told a patron that he should consider throwing out his blue cheese because it looked like it had gone bad. He laughed... he didn't think it was rude.
I saw a man walking past me with a star of david and a cross on a necklace. I have no idea what that means. I think he's either insane or he's not sure and he wants to touch on all bases. I think I'm going to buy him a crescent moon to add to his collection to make him feel a bit safer. Yes, then he'll be fine. Unless the Mormons are right, then we all go to hell.

20th Century Fox Presents...

Yesterday was the Sound of Music Sing-A-Long at work. I'm sure I must have been mumbling the words to Edelweiss in my sleep last night. And I can't say for certain if I will ever be the same again. The only way to describe the show is to say that it was like the Rocky Horror Picture Show, but far scarier. The outfits were outrageous and people brought props like whistles for the whistle scenes and flashlights for the scenes in which the Nazis flash their lights. People talked and shouted at the screen non-stop. It was like they tracked down every asshole in L.A. county who talks relentlessly in the movie theaters--all 18,000 of them--and sat them down to sing along at The Bowl.
During the intermission, a woman was profusely vomiting the sip of wine she had drank earlier. I'm just trying to imagine the morning after when she relays the story to her friends. "Woah... Guys, I got so wasted last night at the Sound of Music Sing-a-Long."
I think that's enough trauma for now...

Anemia Earhart

I often amuse myself with the fact that there are numerous disease names in existence that would make beautiful girls' names. Arthritis sounds like the name of a Greek goddess. Syphilis is great too. And it's one of those names that is really beautiful in cursive and you always practice the signature, even though your name is Beulah.

Colleagues

I got home from work a couple of hours ago. Working at The Bowl is great because I get free concerts and free leftovers. Also, it's better than other jobs because I get to work with a lot of intelligent people. People who use words like "perchance", "indeed", and "onward"... In other words, pretentious assholes.
During my break, one of the employees was going to seat himself, but he paused briefly to "expel items" from his pocket. My friend, I think you need to expel your foot from your ass. Yes, all in all, I really have a great job. It's a dream come true, really.

The colors, dude, the colors!

As this night reaches its conclusion, I would like to share what this evening's experiences have taught me. #1 - You can be as mean as you want to people who are under the influence and they won't remember. #2 - It's entirely useless to explain the difference between a double bass and a cello to someone who's had a few beers. Especially when that person wouldn't understand the difference while sober anyway.

Pull up, then down:

provided by the management for your convenience.

I bought a part of my work uniform today. The ensemble consists of a white dress shirt, black pants, black shoes, and a maroon sweater. Where do I work, you ask? The Hollywood Bowl--which I will oh-so-fashionably refer to as The Bowl. So I wasted part of my day at the mall looking for the pants. Luckily, there were a few things here and there which amused me--so it wasn't a total waste. For one thing, I saw a very large girl completely fall over in a pair of heels. It was one of those things that is so grotesquely funny that you can't even laugh at. You're just frozen with a smile on your face. Your mind says "laugh, you unsocial entity."

In other news, it seems that I will be working this weekend. And missing numerous graduation parties. The Bowl is a heartless tyrant. But the event sounds kind of cool. I will be working at the Playboy Jazz Festival. Hmmm... I'll get back to you on that one.

Thank you for flying Church of England, cake or death?

So... I just graduated. Eat that, y'all. Triumph is mine.

And then?

Lined paper is the dictator of all penmanship. Why should we allow it to decide in which direction we are to write? If I want to write diagonally, I will. I say that, along with the letter "q", lined paper should be abolished and free words of totalitarian control.

Characterizing the Late Secretory Pathway in S. cerevisiae

So... what exactly is a blog? Do the head guys up at "Blogger" read the posts? I mean... can they censor anything?

Umm...

The letter "q" is unnecessary. It can be replaced with the letter "k" in any word. I think it's time to abolish this inefficient letter. It mars the language. Some may argue that "q" is necessary for the kwe sound. But the kwe sound comes from the "u", and not the "q". It's a deceiving letter.

In conclusion... when the world comes to the realization that I am right, words like "kuagmire", "kuestion", "kuadrant", and my personal favorite, "kuinsy" will come into existence. And then you won't lose in Scrabble because you got stuck with a "q" and no "u".