Mary Jane's Last Dance

Hopefully tomorrow I'll have at least an explanation as to why my article was changed into a pile o' Frankensteined crap. The whole ordeal has kind of put me off on writing another review until I can be certain that it won't happen again without my consent or knowledge beforehand.

It kind of makes me want to branch out and start my own local entertainment blog. That way, I could have full editorial control and make sure that all content are quality pieces. Who knows? If I learn enough coding and manage to turn it into a social networking site as well, it could mean BIG BUCKS AND NO WHAMMIES. (idea's mine, but if anybody wants in...)


In other news, today the Rays got gypped out of a win against the White Sox because of a HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE call by the umps in the bottom of the tenth inning. Basically, they rewarded cheating. It was a bullshit call, and the announcers on the network I was watching were appalled; they said it was one of the worst decisions they have heard of in the last thirty years.

How come everything good in the world has to be marred by cheaters?

EDIT:



50/50 split between intuition and sensing. Last time it was 51/49. Hrm. Maybe I'm... both? ROFL.

I am SO FUCKING PISSED right about now. So fucking pissed. My pissed-o-meter is OFF THE FLIPPIN' CHARTS.

Know how I've been posting about having problems with getting my reviews posted? Well, after two weeks, one of them finally did get posted. It looked completely fine last night. I even showed one of my old buddies (whom I haven't spoken to in a while) the article. He said it was one of the most entertaining and overall best reviews he has ever read.

Today, I take another look at the review. THE WHOLE FUCKING THING HAD BEEN CHANGED. It isn't even my article anymore. It looks like a horrible Frankenstein of my article and something that looks like it had been written by someone in junior high. I AM FUCKING FURIOUS. Not only did they change it, but they FAILED ON ALL COUNTS to consult me before these changes were made!

Once again, I'm left in the fucking dark. Not only that, but I've been used. The wool has been pulled over my eyes yet again. Nothing pisses me off more than my hard work being invalidated. I busted ass for hours on that article to make sure everything flowed perfectly. All that FOR NOTHING. All my hard work for NADA. I don't even want my name associated with that article anymore.

And this is one of many reasons why I rarely trust a soul.

I have arrived and this time you should believe the hype. I listened to everyone now I know that everyone was right. I'll be there for you as long as it works for me. I play a game, it's called insincerity. -- Nine Inch Nails, "Starfuckers, Inc."

http://www.wwtdd.com/post.phtml?pk=10541

I think our nation has now become a nation of overly-sensitive butthurt pussies. For godsake, in the movie they're talking about a FICTIONAL CHARACTER. IN A MOVIE. This "controversy" (lol) makes me want to go see it even more now. Thanks, LOLlywood!

Also, two of the best Rays players are now on the DL. Carl Crawford's got a hamstring injury that could possibly be season-ending, Evan Longoria, our star rookie third baseman (and our home run leader) is out with a broken wrist and will be out two to three weeks. I hope that the team can hold down the fort while they're gone, and hopefully can hold on to our AL East lead! I think we can do it; our backup players are extremely capable of playing multiple positions as well as swing ing the bat, especially Zobrist, who's in for an injured Bartlett (shortstop). I believe!

I also sent an email to one of the people at the St. Pete Times about employment opportunities. The worst they can say is no, right? I'm not getting my hopes up at all, but if it pans out that would be awesome.

I'm going to come right out and say it.

College is useless.

Yeah, my cynicism is showing. Why is it necessary to shell out a ridiculous amount of money to secure a job that doesn't involve jockeying a register, scrubbing latrines or flipping burgers at Wendy's? Why do I need to pony up an obscene, egregious amount of money to do something I already know how to do?

It makes sense for technical jobs; engineers, biologists, etc. I'm not planning to become a super-scientist, I want to be a copy editor.

Putting on my tinfoil hat for a moment, I personally think the institution of college is set in place as a class divide. The poor can only get but so much in grants, the middle-class gets jack squat, and the rich can throw money at the problem all they want. It's sick.

Dude, go here and make all of us happy, even if you don't live in the Tampa area. All of our hard work has come to fruition as of eight minutes ago! Yay!

More importantly, go read my review of Raga Indian Restaurant because it's the best review. Not to sound, um, biased or anything. :D

I have so much crap to buy in preparation for this wedding.

I'm leaning towards a pair of ivory-colored Chinese Laundry peep-toe shoes. I bought a pair of CL's last weekend and they fit my weird feet real well.

I need to get another strapless bra because the one I bought a couple of months ago gives me droopy quad-boob. My size is hard to find though. I'll probably get an Elle MacPherson one in 32C or D (I usually wear a 30C or D) because both the band and cup size run small. The last Elle MacPherson I bought that was labeled in my size was TINY TINY TINY. I had to give it to my younger sister. :(

Need new foundation, primer, and all that jazz.

On an unrelated note, I had an awful hypoglycemic attack today at work. I stopped just shy of passing out. I had all of the other symptoms though; extreme hunger, hot/cold flashes, lethargy, apathy, eyes glazing over, nausea, abdomen pain, irritability, the whole works. I bought a bottle of Gatorade from the soda machine around that time, and I couldn't open it. I was damned close to throwing it against the wall. When I went home on lunch break, I devoured almost everything that microwaveable in the fridge in a matter of minutes.

That song I'm listening to now? I've been listening to it all day.

"They've been taken away! They've been taken away! Billy was a bright one, Tommy's off his head. Mother loved them both the same, at least that's what she said. I don't predict the future, I don't care about the past. Send them off to DSS, now you've had your chance. The poison stole your babies, the judges took your rights. You can have your children or the night."

There's a good possibility that we are getting the house we like. I'm stoked. I love it. I feel like I'm at home in it.

So, now we have to look into stuff we need to get for the house, look into moving companies, and all that jazz. It's a little earlier than we expected. We were expecting this to come sometime in the summer, but we're afraid if we wait around too long, that house will be gone. Houses sell quickly in that area, because it's a solid, nice neighborhood.



On the work front, I have this to say: People suck at writing. People also suck at grammar, and people suck at spelling. We're not asking for a Pulitzer Prize-winning entry, but for godsake, write decently. Keep the article relevant. We want to read about the food that the restaurant has. We want to know what's in it for a young, modern adult crowd, because that's our target audience. We're sick of hearing about family-friendly crap. We're fed up with poorly-written articles that refuse to stay on topic. We don't want to hear about the owners' kid and other trite stuff such as that. If I wanted to hear about someone's kid, I'd talk to somebody at church.

ARGH YOU PEOPLE ARRRRGHH. I can feel myself going Super Saiyan or something. My hair's turning gold, people. Step out of the way.

Today was the first day of my new job.

It was slow going at first, and then my associate producer and I came across a freelancer (I'm also a freelancer, but I'm also doing grunt work for a month) that had turned in his listings...rather early.

They were terrible. There were tons of grammar errors, spelling errors, factual errors, errors up the wazzoo. This guy couldn't write his way out of a junior high essay competition. My seventh grade sister could have written better articles. So the task I was given was to look over that guy's articles, and re-write and correct stuff as necessary.

A couple of the articles I pretty much had to re-write from scratch. They were THAT bad.

( Click thru for more lack of faith in humanity! )

People think they can get away with anything, can't they?


And then I went to BJ's after work, where I had a beer and baked potato (always awesome).

Welp, I got a new job. And we're looking for houses. And my wedding is two months away.

Fuck, I'm nervous as hell. You know that kind of nervous when you are totally stoked and excited, but bewildered and somewhat frightened at the same time? Yeah, that's the kind of nervous I have.

Everything is just so brand new. It's both mesmerizing and scary.

Hoo boy. I'm on nail polish buying binge. I haven't had this much nail polish since I was eleven. (I had close to sixty bottles then, which is around what I have now.)

This time, the colors are BETTER.


I'm seriously stoked about life right now. I'm about to get a job working as a freelance writer for Tampa's Metromix (it's not up yet, don't worry if you don't see it!), and also doing data entry for MM as well (that is temporary but pays well)

I go to a training session on Thursday at noon, and I should start the temp part of the job on St. Paddy's Day. :)

My fiance and I are also looking at houses! Ah, this is so exciting! On the site where we are looking for houses in the area, I stumbled across a 1400 square foot house, with a NICE backyard AND in-ground pool, AND close to the interstate, for $169,000. I want to go look at it soooooooooo bad. SOOO BAD. I'VE GOT THE ITCH. BAD.

My hours are cut next week. I'm kinda miffed about that.

All this wedding crap stresses me out. Boy am I absolutely thrilled I have to spend a Saturday at some "retreat" a hour out of our way for ten hours as part of getting married in the Catholic church. I am absolutely ecstatic! Can't you see the pure elation on my face?

I feel like I don't get out and do enough. I've got winter flab. I'm bored.

Ahhhh, welcome to Seasonal Affective Disorder, where, even in Florida, it can strike.


What I do look forward to (so as to make this post not completely angsty):

Warmer weather. I look forward to swimming and sitting out in the sun for hours at a time with my feet in the pool, ipod on, and the sun radiating down on me. (I wear sunscreen, don't worry.)

for the wedding to be over and done with so we can focus on our lives rather than who is going to sit where, what color is such-and-such and all of that awful jazz.

The State Fair in a couple of days, so I can get my yearly intake of fair food and to laugh at all of the rednecks in their high fashion (redneck high fashion is outdated trends from two to four years ago, plus lots of camo and Confederate flags and Big Dog). Plus, going to the State Fair is like watching Discovery Health's shows on obesity cause goddamn there are a ton of GIGANTIC people there. Oh, Redneck Fashion Week.

Finally discovering a good Indian restaurant here. (A girl can dream you know.)

Tags: lifestyle, work

I knew it was probably going to be inevitable. We now have a bitch manager.

One of our very awesome managers got rotated out, and has been replaced by a woman who tries way too hard to be some kind of power-tripping "leader" without actually being a leader. Yelling at me ain't going to solve anything, it ain't going to help me, and it certainly ain't gonna help her.

She also is in no power to judge the work ethic of my associates and I only being there for two days. She tried to get me to work off the clock and I wasn't having any of that. If she pushed it any further I would have cursed her out and threatened her with a complaint to the state's Department of Labor, because you...kinda can't make anyone work when they're off the clock. I don't know how she did things at your previous store, but in our store and everywhere else around the United States, that's illegal.

Fuck me. Is it a sign that I need to be moving on?

Yeah, break the guilty trammels from yesteryear. Remember how the taste of failure makes it all clear. The lowly opportunists take commanding roles, and hawk ultimatums so their weakness won't show. -- Bad Religion

...

It also doesn't help my mood that the Saints blew the fucking game they should have won. All because of a RETARDED RETARDED RETARDED play in the last five minutes. Who do they think they are, the Redskins? (who also blew their game today)

I don't think I've been so thankful to leave work before. It wasn't as bad as that Pizza Hut entry I posted before this (good god that was awful), but fucking Christ.

I'll tell you this -- I black dare anyone to lie to my face like this one woman did today. I guarantee that you'll walk out looking much uglier than you did before. I fucking hate liars. There are three classes of people I loathe - liars, cheats, and thieves. They're practically one and the same. A liar is a cheat is a thief is a liar.

I could have strangled her right then and there. I felt like a mother bear poised to attack, claws extended. I wanted to black out her eyes and smash in her teeth. I wanted to hear bones break and cartilage tear. I desired her head for a trophy. I wanted to see her starchy white shirt turn a bright vermilion. Don't you fucking dare think for a second that I'm naive and stupid just because I'm a young looking woman.

Eat a dick, you bitch. I hope you got pulled over by a cop when you left, because the cops patrol that area heavily for speeders. I also hope in the event you got pulled over by a cop, that you had drugs in your car. Suck my balls.



PS: Yes, my icon has much to do with this post.

"I saw a man on the big blue screen. He ruled the world economy. He said the rich would never concede, but someday soon they'll be put to sleep." -- Bad Religion

Dear Florida:

STOP RAINING KTHANKS.

So, yeah, streets are starting to flood out here. I bet Shore Acres is totally underwater right now, it floods over every time the sky spits out a raindrop.

I saw a couple of fish flopping around in the parking lot at work this morning. It was a couple of catfish about 11" long or so. A guy was trying to catch them to put them back in the water (there's a little retention pond in front of the Publix a few doors down), with no luck. I tried to catch them with a piece of paper. I, too, had no luck. They kept flopping out of my hands and back onto the pavement.

A few minutes later, a cop was driving down the parking lot. He saw the fish, and came out to help. The cop and the guy found a pizza box, and captured the two catfish in it. They then were put back into the water. Kinda fun.

Later, my manager on duty saw another catfish out back when he was on a smoke break. Don't know what happened to that one, though.

Fish. On pavement. Isn't that crazy?

Oh man, if you think your job is bad, take a look at this.

It makes my days working at a shit ripoff hobby store look like I'd won a trip to Disneyland.

I feel like I haven't the time to be myself anymore. I'm worn out and tired. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Welcome, my son. Welcome to the machine.