Not Your Typical Day...

Today has been spent taking crisis calls in the phone room. This is usually an easy task - phone rings, take call, make the world a better place, keep coffee fresh. If no one dies, it's a pretty good day. Some days, though, seem to see more weird calls than others. Like TODAY. Woman needs driving instructor. Man thinks that FBI is tapping his phone. Man is certain that everyone thinks he is a pimp, drug dealer, or criminal. I am reminded of the George Harrison song "Crackerbox Palace" and have gone from insane laughter over a French & Saunders sketch to passionately ranting about how much I loathe Montgomery, all in about sixty seconds and without batting an eyelash. I check my monthly horoscope on the internet. It says something about Mercury turning from retrograde to direct. It also says something about my sun being in Uranus. Go figure.

Went to see Melissa Ferrick perform last night. Lesbofest 2007 might have been an appropriate name for the event! I haven't seen so many mullets and flannels since that Melissa Etheridge concert in '94. Apparently, someone somewhere said that girls in polo shirts with the collar popped up and backwards baseball caps are attractive. I weep. I can't help but wonder how an event where everyone seems to be in pairs can have such a meat market feel. Oh yeah, it was in Birmingham. It was like Noah's Ark for lesbyterians. Anytime you get that many lesbians together, it looks like an AA meeting gone desperately wrong. You can take the girl out of the bar, but you can't take the bar outta the girl. They just bring that obnoxious atmosphere with them wherever they go. At one point, Melissa Ferrick abruptly stopped during a song until the motormouths at stage right ceased their chattering and giggling, and then started over. How embarrassing. Great show, though - Ferrick rocked!

Where has the time gone?

My, my, my, my, MY! It HAS been awhile, hasn't it? Where does one begin?

I am listening to the Velvet Underground right now, and reflecting over the last 3 months of my life (nephew, I must hook you up with some good classic rock). Hard to say where I am now... Let's see... I have what I consider to be a real JOB. I have an office. Pepole there talk smack about each other. I have an office. I can say things like "if I'm not in my office, I'll be in the phone room." I can also say things like "if you call this number, it will ring my office direct." Never been able to say that kind of thing before...

What is the new job, you might want to know? Well, I can tell you that it's not too different from the old one, in the respect that I'm still dealing with the "finest" society has to offer us, except it's mostly over the phone. The sad thing is, I can't even tell you what we talked about! Confidentiality is a bitch.

Okay, yes, I'm writing this to keep my blog active, because my nephew has goaded me into it. I DO plan on having some clever things to say, once I think of them...

Just have faith that there will be more to come... I would write more, but right now, my computer is downloading the greatest hits of "Notorious BIG" from iTunes while I listen to Kiss "Destroyer" 12 o'clock, I gotta rock.

Baby boom

Wacky news all in one week...
1) Auburn lost to Arkasas
2) Ravi Shankar cancelled concert in Birmingham
3) Ex-girlfriend is pregnant with new boyfriend's baby

Best lesbian friends are in the process of looking for sperm.... they'll make great parents.

So when do I get my turn? How long do I have to wait for that perfect someone? When will I find someone to make me happy?

I have to be honest, I'm happy living alone now. But, I also feel like life is moving along without me.

I know I'm not ready for a relationship... I don't want one. But, I also can't help feeling like a third wheel most of the time. Maybe things will change - I know that they will when the time is right.

Gridiron grudges

The neighborhood football equilibrium is shifting, which is good. Neighbor across the street hung out her Tennessee flag, which takes some of the pressure off me. Duplex neighbor (who is also an Auburn fan) was warned by the lawnmower-lesbian-rabid-Bama-fan neighbors "not to antagonize" them... I've lived here for over a year and it seems that my only fault with them 4 months out of the year is that I am an Auburn fan... not even the obnoxious kind, because I want Bama to win if they're not playing Auburn. (For you skeptics out there, this is ENTIRELY possible if you are a)an Aquarius, and b) a fan of the sport, period, end of story). BUT, when it comes down to that day in mid-November when the two go head to head (or, as it was last year, head-to-Brodie Croyle-to-the-ground), I am, was, and always will be for Auburn. Why can't they forgive me? I've loved too deeply for too long. Why can't we, at the end of the day, all just go back to being the Crestwood Yard Nazis like we are the rest of the time?
Went on porch to blog... was joined for a while by my wall-mate. I in my Auburn jersey and cap, she in her orange Auburn tee and blue sweats. I wonder aloud if we will be "antagonizing" the neighbors, when I am quickly told "they will have to get over it".
It's going to be a FUN football season.

A Day Off

Cut the grass, which should please neighbors. Put out the Auburn Flag, which should piss off neighbors. Told nephew, who also works in customer service, to check out blog. He will probably find some similarities there. Neighbors outside and not talking to me... probably the flag.

Thank you, come again

I just don't get people.

I mean, I REALLY don't.

Do some folks just wake up in the morning, and decide, "Hey! Today I think I'm going to try to really be a pain in the ass to some salesperson! THAT should make me feel better!"

I work in sales. It's my JOB. When you come into my store, you're fooling yourself if you think I'm going to let you leave with one lousy $.99 piece of shit. YOU, my friend, are barely worth my time and energy to ring you up. Therefore, I think you OWE it to me to listen to my sales pitch about our wonderful buyer reward program. You OWE it to me to listen to our pitch about a free magazine trial, and, HEY - do you need a $.99 CD repair kit?

I am required to ask these questions of you. I also require no more than perhaps 30 seconds of your life to do so. I resent the fact that you, dear customer, regard me as nothing more than an inconvenience to you and overall a waste of your valuable time. I resent the fact that you bark at me and try to ruin my otherwise pleasant day.

So here are the facts...

1) I get paid despite the fact that you treat me like shit.

2) I AM going to talk about you and your attitude to the customer who was in line behind you, and kept shooting me sympathetic looks because, they, like me can spot an asshole a mile away.

3) I will share my experience with you with every other mall employee that comes in my store ("Oh, my GOD, I had the BIGGEST asshole today!"

4) I will bitch about you to my co-workers. Chances are, they've dealt with you too.

5) I will Blog about you.

So, there you have it. Karma's a bitch, so be careful what salespeople you crap on. Just remember: If I worked in a restaurant, you'd be eating bathroom scum on your steak.

A Blog is Born

This blog was concieved over five years ago, as I was driving down Hwy 280 on my way home from work. It was at that point that I saw something that would change my life forever. No, it was not the Virgin Mary changing the tire of a stranded motorist... it was, in my opinion, something infinitely more profound than anything I had ever encountered before.
I have always been a firm believer in "truth is stranger than fiction", but that credo was never more evident than this day in particular.
A car turned onto 280 as I was driving by. It was a modest, 2-door coupe, of the late 1980's variety. The passenger window was rolled down, and the passenger's pleasure with his purveyance was obvious...
Protruding out the window of that modest coupe was a giant, inflatable penis.
Who wouldn't be proud to carry that?
I wondered how many other people had seen the same thing, and went home to their famailies or friends to tell them of their great fortune? How many people can say that they have seen the same thing? Not many of you, I would imagine.
At any rate, I decided that there are wonderful, crazy things, that need to be shared. That incident changed my life forever... in a good way.