::just.jessica::

Not too long ago a friend told me that I could, in fact, make an entire post about imposture Jelly Bellys® and it turned out that he was actually right. So when I was at the store yesterday I had thought that it may be possible I could write another post about something that doesn’t sound very post worthy on the surface.  So here it goes.

I have to question supermarkets and their tactics. It is my opinion that things are laid out quite wrong in every supermarket I’ve ever been to, including Whole Foods. You see, most of the time when you walk into the market you either walk right past the checkout stands into the produce or you walk right into the produce. Now, one can argue that the produce should be taken first and last should be the frozen food. This I understand somewhat but I also don’t spend hours in a market and haven’t in ages. Also, that theory is shot to hell when you get to the end of the produce section and you find yourself in the refrigerator section where they stock meat. Some of that meat is frozen so the theory of frozen food last is lost.

Nevertheless, I find the way a store is laid out to be detrimental to the overall placement of items in your cart. Heavier items should be first and then the lighter more delicate items, like bread and fruit. Me, I was never much of a cart stocker. I throw things in at will and paid little attention until I am shockingly out of room to put shit. So I stop by, pull my cart to the right and re-situate my goods. You would think this would allow me to then take stock of what crap I have and ask myself if I have lettuce and nothing to put it with or did I just buy 8 pears because the samples tasted so good but the second I get home I won’t touch a pear … again. But no, I re-situate my findings and carry on to the next isle. No matter how piss poor of a job I do in putting things in my cart, I don’t need the assistance of the supermarket layout club to help me.

You may be asking where this is all going. I did have a point and the point is not noted above. The point I’ve been trying to make is that I firmly believe things are laid out perfectly to entice and evoke the idea of roaming. I do not know about you but I do not like to roam a market. I come in with an idea, 10 things are added to said idea, and I am out. I don’t like to doddle about like an idiot looking for the best 10-minute meal under $20 found on the side of the soup can you just picked up. No sir. Talk to me about $20, 10-minute meals when I am home. That also means I have little patience for the way things are laid out sometimes. Yesterday is the perfect example.

I decided to make brownies for the fine people who allow me to occupy their property with little objection. I’m nice like that and I mentioned I would do it so I had to. I opted to make gooey brownies, which are brownies with a heap of marshmallow cream on top. I get everything I need for the brownies and then go to find the marshmallow cream. I first go and find the marshmallows as they’re more prominent when placed on a shelf and should be around the baked goods. They were not so I went to find the cereal isle thinking hot coco was there; it was, and then I would ultimately find marshmallow cream. I found the marshmallows but no cream. Now I have to ask. I walked up and asked for help. The man takes me to the isle that has bread, jams, jellies, and peanut butter. I think … wtf? Ok fine I’ll play along.

Apparently people use something called Fluff on their peanut butter sandwiches. I cannot for the life of me see why but then again it’s their arteries, not mine. So I went to ask another man who looked important because he had a clipboard and a dress shirt on. He says, “fluff or cream”. Now, immediately I think of 10 things I could say that would really be funny and crude all at once, I refrain because I am on a mission you see. I say “cream please”. He takes me there. In one way I like that they guide you, in another way I don’t like that it becomes the 100 meter dash through the store while you’re looking all confused and out of breath. Thanks for that asshole. He brings me to the very isle I was on not once but twice and never once saw the product. I said, “oh I missed that”, which I am 100% sure everyone says when they’re shown something they probably really did miss. I put one in my cart and that is that. Well ok, I put two in my cart because I am sure there is another worthy recipient of gooey brownies out there somewhere.  I would like to point out that marshmallows, marshmallow creme, and something called “fluff” which is marshmallow are located on three different isles in the store and they’re spread out so that you do have to walk past other isles to get to that one.

My theory is that stores lay things out a certain way so that you have to roam and buy more crap. Everyone knows you don’t go to a store hungry but if you’re there long enough hungry or not you tend to buy at least one other item that was not on your list. If you’re married you probably buy and then hide it or suffer the consequences for deviating from the master list, but you still buy something else. Trust me, it usually happens.

In close, I am certain markets have their purpose for the way things are all laid out. I also think markets should actually have you enter where the soda, juices, canned food items are so they go in first and then let the produce and frozen/cold food follow.  Of course I can see the issue with bagging as you’d bag the softer items first and put them in the cart and the heavy items would then end up on top. There is reason for most things I am sure but I think the reason benefits the markets more than it benefits the customers.

Tune in next time for my take on the Wolf Pack and the first football game of the season. Rest assured my point will be made in no less than 500 words and in the end you’ll ask for your 5 minutes back because whatever I have to say about it could be said in less than 20 words. Nevertheless, if I wanted to do that I wouldn’t bother to blog about it, now would I? :p

In a sequel to I’m Your Friend I bring you, LinkedIn … the professionals way of telling you that you’re still not popular and you generally suck.

In earlier times talking about LinkedIn earned you a blank stare and a funny grin from most people. In the wake of the mortgage financial meltdown people all over have found a place to reunite that made them feel slightly less sleazy because it wasn’t Facebook™. Many of these same people are the ones who turn their noses up to MySpace and Facebook for in their eyes a social networking site is just plain stupid. Well folks, what the fuck do you think LinkedIn is? To be fair, LinkedIn is professional, that’s right … professional. It’s also the one site where you can go and see how you rank professionally. It’s the corporate world of Facebook. All your life (before you leave school) you’re told that life is bigger than high school. No it isn’t. LinkedIn is just corporates’ way of telling you that you how you rank in life. But like Facebook, LinkedIn has it’s “friends”.

The “We’re the Same” Friend:

This friend is one of a kind. This is the “friend” who never spoke to you at work and most likely took the last cup of coffee so that when you arrived in the break room you were wasting your time making a new pot. Since you felt guilty spending all that time making the coffee, you elect not to sit around and wait for it, so you go back to your 5×5 cell and you wait. You figure you timed the pot’s completion perfectly and then you walk back into the break room to what is either the remainder of the last drops of coffee or a completely empty pot. How does that happen? Simple, bastards (like me) who hold their cups under the stream of coffee as it brews. So yeah, there’s that kind of friend.

This friend is the one who suddenly had this burning desire to reunite with you because you both worked for the same failed or failing company. Either way, you both are probably unemployed or soon to be. This is the person who collects more friends and less job opportunities. This is also the friend who somehow believes that a recommendation on LinkedIn is going to earn them some sort of street cred. For the record, I think it’s time to give LinkedIn some credit. LinkedIn doesn’t have friends, they have Connections. Connections people! So let’s start calling them that.

The “We Were Best Friends” Connection:

This is certainly an interesting connection to have. This is going to be the person who you probably went to lunch with quite a bit and more than likely gossiped with. If you’re a dude, don’t tell me you don’t gossip. You two were most likely inseparable at work but for some reason, you never actually hung out after work unless it was “happy hour”. This person, again, most likely lost their job alongside you, feels this burning desire to reconnect with you well after they we no longer employed. This is the friend who lost their job, you called a dozen times and they never returned your call. Now suddenly, you’re LinkedIn friends … connections.

The “Hey recommend me please” Connection:

This is the funniest one I think I’ve seen to date. This is the one person you probably worked directly with or knew in some capacity at work that suddenly feels as though a connection on LinkedIn buys you something in life. To be honest, I am not recommended by anyone (we’ll get to that), and I could be very wrong about how much weight that holds in the world of corporate job hunting. At any rate, this is that friend who probably really did do a great job at some point in your career and would like you to solidify it with something slightly more substantial than a simple e-mail response of “thanks you rock!” I’ve had three people ask me for a recommendation and none of have received one. I’ve recommended one person because I was bored one night and thought it would be nice.

The “I’m sticking by you because you may bring me to your next company” Connection:

This is the one I think is best to have. Though it hasn’t panned out for me at all, it is one that I think I should have. Let’s face it, dog eat dog world … right? Right! So best keep your cofriends (coworker friends) close. I think there is merit in having these friends and this is where I think LinkedIn succeeds and what I think LinkedIn was supposed to prevail. To set aside LinkedIn from Facebook and MySpace (though it’s not hard to be better than MySpace) it has to hold some clout.

My thoughts on LinkedIn are simple. There is no correlation between time spent in one company and the number of connections you’ve made with people from that company. That’s fucking ridiculous really if you think about it. Think back to your last job. Mine was generally the same place I am now. My best friend at work was probably my closest friend outside of work in some weird way. We went to lunch together nearly daily and hung out after work but not so much on the weekends. Incidentally, he’s not connected to me on LinkedIn. Nevertheless, I am connected to dozens of people from that company. People who I can’t even begin to pick out in a lineup today. Why? E-mail. Most people I deal with is via e-mail and frankly, that’s probably best. I’m likable, but not that likable!

Finally, let’s go back to the recommendation theory. I don’t think recommendations on LinkedIn are bad per se, but they’re kind of ridiculous when you think about it. Let’s review my past without going into too much detail. I came into a department, I was basically one of the last couple of people in. I was also the last one standing. Go figure. So clearly I have done something right, right? And yet, the very people who saved my ass have not recommended me. Do I ask for a recommendation? I could, but I want to know what purpose that serves me. It’s not selfish to say that either. Why bother asking someone to recommend you if it serves no general purpose? Since I’m not sure I never asked. I will tell you this though, to the extent that LinkedIn helps me in some way, I’ll be back here owning up to it. If a potential employer wants to check me out on LinkedIn and they decide that I am not worth two shits because I have 75 connections and no recommendations then they should consider the fact that I’m busting my ass working all day and not sitting around on LinkedIn trying to make it into the yearbook.

Just last night I said I would never be able to make a whole post out of the imposture Jelly Bellys® and my utter dissatisfaction with them, however, I have changed my mind … watch this …

I innocently went to Sam’s Club® on Monday to buy some frozen fruit and apples (for what it’s worth I don’t have scurvy) and decided I would take a jaunt down the candy isle … or shall we call it the candy territory? Byegones. So I take my jaunt in hopes to pick up what should be classed as a “way too large for one person to consume” bucket of Jelly Belly® candies. Why? Well frankly I love them more than many things in life and I felt as though having a bucket of them would be truly beneficial to my well being. So I walked, wandered, contemplated and came upon Member’s Mark® Gourmet Jelly Beans with 37 unique flavors with a net weight of 4 pounds … yes pounds.  I think to myself that they have to be somewhat close to Jelly Bellys® so I take my chances. It’s not as though Jelly Bellys® aren’t widely available elsewhere, it is that in this quantity they cost less per ounce and they’re conveniently located in the same store I happened to be in that day.

I come home and I give it a few hours to let the dust settle from my journey and then later find myself making that move. I open the bucket and take a handful. I quickly close the lid so as to not let out the awesome aroma of what I like to call Halloween (don’t be confused, just stay with me a while).  I also believed that by closing the lid after taking a modest handful I was also commanding control. I forgot, I could easily unscrew the lid and get more, but that’s another story 1/2 pound later. 

There are a couple of things to note here before I continue. The pros of this bucket is that the damn thing has a handy carrying handle. It’s not as though the bucket is not shaped for an easy grab, it is also that they give you a handle! I mean, what says “take me with you” more than a bright yellow handle? I do not know. 

Moving on …

I put a jelly bean (they have now been denounced to just being a jelly bean) in my mouth and think … what an odd taste. I try another. Now mind you, while these aren’t Jelly Bellys®, they’re “gourmet” and with that comes a sort of legend on the backside of the bucket that defines each flavor. I would use that but that would ultimately take the fun out of this game I like to call, “hey what’s that taste and is it ass-like?”

I’m pretty sure I got through nearly three days with the bucket in my house and my propensity for taking a modest handful numerous times a day before I opted to look at the back of the bucket and start to pair my findings. I know it has been nearly three days because I have now found reason to write about it and in great length if you ask me. 

First on Jelly Bellys®, no matter the flavor you can venture to guess that each Jelly Belly® for the most part is unique. Even cherry, cherry is always going to be darker than cinnamon. Our fine friends over at Member’s Mark® would like to stir things up a bit and make the following flavors all yellow:

• Pina colada
• Lemon Meringue
• Mango
• Banana
• Pineapple
• Passion Fruit (purportedly) 

Now, it is easily argued that pineapple is slightly more orange but show me the slightly more orange pineapple and I’ll edit my post. Interestingly enough the picture on the back displays each of these yellow treats to be slightly different. For example, pina colada has little specks and banana has larger specks, all of the same color. Lemon meringue and mango should be easily separated because lemon meringue is solid yellow and mango has these seemingly orange spots, as illustrated. The issue I take is that I pulled out these flavors and they all appear the same visably but boy is it a surprise when you get banana and lemon meringue in your mouth. It’s a tasty party explosion that takes me back to the “suicide” soda I used to make (mixing every flavor they have available and thinking you’re aweosme if you put Dr. Pepper in the mix).  

Many will say that it should not be an issue that the jelly beans are all wonky and you cannot figure your flavor out, but not me. Oh no. I’m the separate and conquer in order girl. I want to eat one kind at a time and savor the flavor. 

It gets better …

So now we’re at this point where we have 37 unique flavors all for my choosing. You would think this would be easy with the legend and all on the back, right? Not so much. First, besides the fact that each yellow jelly bean is cleverly illustrated on the back as being different but they’re clearly not that different in the bucket, you have this haphazard decision made by Member’s Mark® to actually make purple jelly beans black licorice flavor. WTF? Really? I mean, I’m all for that and all but frankly when you disguise black licorice as possibly grape you’re truly a douche. 

Now let’s turn our attention to Member’s Mark® and their decision to spruce up MINT. Folks, it’s mint. Ok? It’s fucking toothpaste in a jelly bean. It’s MINT. No one cares that you just called it mini sorbet. It’s not sorbet, it’s MINT. Where in the world is the sorbet taste? I don’t get it. It’s not cold, it’s not fruity, it’s MINT! MINT! Oh did I mention it’s MINT!? And it’s BLUE, light blue, but blue all the same. BLUE! Where in the fuck is the blueberry? Oh yeah, that’s reserved for the dark blue. And the grap, since we’re on it, is actually some random shade of purple as well. I mean, I’m not bitching about that, I am saying that blue MINT and purple BLACK LICORICE is not funny. It’s like Member’s Mark® is saying, “hey, we’re not fucking Jelly Belly® and to prove that you just spent your money on something else we’re going to remind you constantly that we’re our own person and for that we’re going to cold cock you with black licorice that looks like grape and MINT … but we call it mini sorbet.” Yeah, well fuck ‘em because I’ve done picked all the mint out to preserve them for that special night out when my breath feels oh no so fresh and I’ve opted to dig on my merry way in my bucket of Member’s Mark® jelly beans. So there! You can hide your flavors all you want but you’ll never bring me down! 

On a side note, I love the fact that root beer and cola are the same color but illustrated they’re shown the same with the exception of the small white blob to signify light being cast on the jelly bean. The root beer has a smaller white blob and the cola is larger. So that means that depending upon the light whatever I pick up could be one or the other. Good thing they generally taste the same or I’d be blogging for a week about my dissatisfaction with this situation. 

In the end, the fact of the matter remains, the separation between Member’s Mark® and Jelly Bellys® is clear to me. Aside from the fact that the flavors taste better with Jelly Belly®, they’re clearly easier to identify than Member’s Mark®. They don’t try to lure you into grape and cold cock you with black licorice. 

I will say this, whether it be of the Jelly Belly®, Member’s Mark®, or the actual fruit … I simply hate pink grapefruit … and regular grapefruit for that matter. You can’t wrap up something so vile into a nice little jelly bean and think it’ll be good. A girl has to have her limits and that my friends is mine. 

There is this thing about Facebook that just gets me and that is people’s burning desire to be your friend and never speak to you. Now, they could be asking to be your friend so they can evaluate whether or not they would like to remain your friend or they could be trying to just follow your life and keep up with you that way. I’m of the opinion that Facebook is the Internet’s way of saying, “you’ll be judged on your popularity your whole life, let us help you feel inferior!”

The first friend I note is the one you work with who you never spoke to before. Sure, you may have had a meeting with them once or twice; a special task force of sorts, but in the end you and this person aren’t friends let alone Facebook friends. They send you an invite and if you’re like me they are accepted. Then logic sets in and you wonder if this person should know this much about you so you remove them from your list. They probably don’t even notice and will never ask why. How come? Well isn’t it a bit humiliating to ask why you’re not friends on Facebook when you’re not friends offline? I’d venture to guess that it is.

There is the old high school friend. If you’re like me you knew a lot of people in high school but you had a small handful of people you would have considered to be friends. Suddenly one day someone asks you if you’ll accept their friend request and bam! Instant friends! Again you send some follow up message to try and catch up all the while you’re looking their picture up in your yearbook that you pulled from the attic for this very occasion. You wait and you wait and then you realize you just became the pathetic one. Eventually you wipe them from your friend list. Poof!

The next type of friend is the one who insists on sending you bullshit gifts. Hugs and drinks and clovers. I mean really? Would you have given me a fucking gift outside of Facebook? Doubtful. Nevertheless, you accept and move on. Gifts may be non returnable.

Next is the friend who is friends with you offline. They know most about you and will let your other Facebook friends know that while you cannot pick a top friend, they’re your top friend. It’s like a Facebook pissing match. Beware of this friend because ultimately they’re going to embarrass the hell out of you. If you’re fighting, as friends tend to do, they will talk around you on their page and through you on yours. They’ll set their status to shit like, “people are so hurtful” and you’ll know this is 100% directed towards you. Mind you all the while they’re conversing with you in text messages and email where their fire is being fueled by every word you write and guess who knows it? That’s right! Your Facebook clan!

Finally there is the relationship. For some this is cute and sweet. Others it’s downright retarded. Yet you accept being linked to someone else who coincidently uses Facebook as well and all the while they’re keeping a close eye on you. Thy watch your friends, your wall posts, and who is giving you a loving hug. You’re generally Facebook married. Now I happen to have a new found appreciation for this as it is a nice way to let someone know you’re not afraid to admit you’re seeing them. But still, there is something so weird about it at the same time. Most of it is similar to that of a friend except it is worse. By linking yourself to another you’re saying you’re taken. But when that relationship ends you’re in no way getting off easy. First, you won’t think of removing them yet so they’ll defile your page with bullshit comments and make sure they tell you how they feel on theirs. They’ll then remove you or you’ll remove them and the questions will begin. One after the other in a super public forum. There will be no escaping it really. Worse, you’ll log in one day and see the link gone without rhyme or reason. If you wonder what that means, you just got dumped on Facebook friend.

So you see, Facebook is supposed to be more “adult” than MySpace, but it isn’t. Facebook is MySpace without the retads who fuck it up by building their pages so poorly that it crashes the browser on your 8-Core MacPro with 10 gigs of ram.

I’ve given this quite a bit of thought, more thought than I should give any one instance in my life as it pertains to checking out in a major department discount store and that is, “was the cashier friendly?”

You see, here’s the issue I may have with that question. First, they work at Wal-Mart™. I am unsure if any one person really chooses Wal-Mart™ as a career path any more than I chose my own path. It’s not so much Wal-Mart™ as it is retail in general. I’ve yet to hear anyone say that their goal is to work at Wal-Mart™ or any large discount merchandise chain. I have no hate for Wal-Mart™ but at the same time I have no love. Either way, there are times when Wal-Mart™ is the place to go and other times when you pray you don’t have to come within a stone’s throw of the joint. And by the way, speaking as a person who loves to eat, the lure of Wal-Mart™ will never be the McDonalds™ inside. Sorry, but no one person should confine that smell in one building as big as Wal-Mart™. I’m just saying. 

I digress.

Upon checkout at Wal-Mart™ you’re asked one of two questions (in my experience); “Was your cashier friendly” (variation: “Did your cashier greet you?”) or “was the store clean today?”

I believe the latter is used for those who are utilizing the very blessing that should have been bestowed upon us fine Americans years ago … self checkout. Can I get a hallelujah? 

Here’s the problem with this master plan of the Wal-Mart™ QA folk … the question is asked BEFORE the cashier has an opportunity to really make right on this whole issue. Take for example my most recent visit to Wal-Mart™ where I returned a webcam and purchased an iced coffee, mouthwash, and aspirin.  Yes, it was an epic weekend. Upon moving my way up to the cashier, who (take note) was sitting on a stool, most likely due to lower back pain caused by standing too long in one place without proper footing, I noted the question, “Was your cashier friendly today?” I promptly hit NO. Why? Why did I hit NO? Well, it’s simple. She never made eye contact and never once greeted me. Did she have the chance? That is up for debate. 

So then I quickly wonder if there is a message sent to the cashier on the screen that only they can see stating that the customer was a douche and just buried you and your “friendly” quota for the week. I thought, I wonder what cashiers at Wal-Mart™  can do to retaliate. Waiters spit in your food or something similar, bartenders either short you on booze or spit in your drink … perhaps they even give you a dirty glass (dirtier than you usually get), but what would a cashier do? Not bag your items? Not ring them up? At any rate, this question popped in my head when I was single handedly altering this woman’s fate at Wal-Mart™ due to my general lack of interest and inability to lie. 

I said no. She rung up my three items, and I continued to look right at her smiling. Eventually she said “how are you today?” I thought to myself that the dumb grin routine still works after all these years. I got my greeting and was on my way only to realize that I just lied. The cashier greeted me. Fuck! 

This made me think of another idea … I am full of them! 

I thought, you should be asked BOTH questions. Is your store clean? That is a question that would not change over the course of your cashier ringing your items up. Then it is time to ask if your cashier was friendly or greeted you that day. I mean, maybe she or he takes time to warm up. Maybe you’re scary and they’re trying to find a way to greet you without you flying off the handle. Perhaps there is good reason why it takes over a minute to be greeted by the cashiers at Wal-Mart™.  Maybe they thought the door greeter has done enough so they’re going to let it be. Perhaps this question is better suited for the door greeter. I mean, isn’t their job to greet people and if they’re a complete fuck up at it then they should be tossed out. The cashier needs to focus on ringing items up and ensuring accuracy and steadfastness.  How come there isn’t a polling booth just after you meet the greeter that asks you the very question, “were you greeted today?” If not then someone isn’t doing their job! Again, I’m just saying.

So look, were they friendly? Eight times out of ten they are not. They’re tired, counting down the minutes to their shift end, lunch break, or OSHA required 10-minute break and they could care less that you’re buying tampons in bulk with mouthwash, granny panties, cat litter, and a bottle of Jean Nate™.  I’d just leave them be and let the overly happy door greeter take care of the warm fuzzies.

Often I believe that I am smarter than my GPS, which is about as accurate as much of the population being smarter than a fifth grader. So I run an errand and like any good employee, instead of going home to get back to work I opt to go to do the driving range.

Preprogrammed into the untrustworthy GPS is the driving range. I mean why carry your clubs with you and not preprogram the range? That’s just plain stupid. Anyway I come from some random place where I then decide to make my way to the range. I turn down a road as the GPS lying bitch tells me to and then I veer right as she so sternly suggested. As I do that I take note that the GPS is recalculating. That means something went wrong. So she quickly changes course and tells me to make a left in a quarter mile. I make said left and wind up on a dirt road with a dead end 100 feet in front of me. Nice one I think. Just then a giant dump truck comes out of nowhere and nearly clobbers me. The GPS then said “make a U turn”. OH REALLY? MAKE A U TURN? YOU THINK SO? Yeah, I made the U Turn and found myself travelling about 3 miles out of my way to get o the driving range where I took my frustrations from the day as well as the drive out on some balls. The balls won and the geese out on the range at the 150 foot marker were undoubtedly laughing at me. 

Sitting at the car wash today I took note of a young man who clearly insisted that in an effort to look great he would sacrifice comfort. Long sleeve shirt with a short sleeve shirt over that, one brown one black, a do-rag, long pants that looked heavy and black shoes. There is no way in hell when the temperature is 86º with about 80% humidity that he was at all comfortable sitting in the sun smoking his thin long cigar. I just have to wonder if it’s all ok so long as he looks good. I was sweating just looking at him.

Now to get some gas. Most normal people will perhaps not smoke, not talk on their cell phones, and turn their cars off when they get gas. No, not my friend in the BMW. Yes, another BMW buddy; notice the theme? He pulls in (on his cell phone), gets out (leaves his car on) pumps gas (while talking on his phone), gets back in the car (still on the phone) and pulls away. I wonder, the gas station is in near shade … yes it is hot, but what’s the point of pumping gas while the car is running? I mean, aside from the fact that it is completely unsafe to do so, I’m curious. Dude, you’re a douche.

Finally, shorts that have pockets and zippers that lead no where. What’s up with that? Poor purchase on my part. I have a pocket and zipper, same side of the shorts and in the same general location, the pocket even has a button but when unbuttoned it leads NO WHERE! When unzipped, nada! Bastards! I want cargo pockets. Douchebaggery continues.

GNR Appetite for Destruction - Original Artwork

I paid an obnoxious amount for it but I can easily resell for the exact amount if I happen to have buyer’s remorse.

eBay is evil.

If you’re like me you’ve been down buying music for a very long time.  For me, I think my first tape my Oliva Newton-John, which I conveniently screwed up by placing tape over the holes on the top and recorded over to the tune of “Let’s Get Physical”.  Apparently I had big plans for myself. My mom kept that tape and I bet if we looked hard we could find it. I can tell you that she played it for every one of my friends or boyfriends until I moved out of the house.  

At some point I needed cash so I sold my CDs because MP3s were huge, I remember the first introduction to downloading music I had. It was at a hole in the wall computer store who happened to stock the processor I needed. The girl was in an AOL chatroom that was moving faster than two bunnies doing it. She was very into it and the screen looked wildly awesome. I asked her what she was doing and she told me. Quite frankly she was in a Warez room requesting music. It was on that day that I bought a bitchen 200 MHz processor for my computer and learned about free music.  

It wasn’t long before I had a halfway decent library built up. Let’s face it, back then the RIAA couldn’t care less about us. Even today they’re wasting their time. Considering the amount of music I purchase, it is really negligible. Anyway, the point is, when you’re getting something for noting you tend to download crap right? Well not me. I am fairly certain that whatever I had back then, whether it came by way of physical CDs, tapes, or albums, it was all perfectly awesome in my own mind. After a while I stopped apologizing for my music collection. I figured I liked music, that should be the important part here. So what if I can tell you that I simply find Oliva Newton-John to be perfectly awesome? I’m ok with this, now. 

Sometimes I will let iTunes just shuffle. I let fate take the wheel and I just let it ride. There are days when I want to control what I hear, those are usually Mondays to be quite honest. I think because many weekends I am listening to music I did not choose, but it is music I love all the same. I think it’s a control thing. If I had made the music decision it would have been the same music, but because I didn’t outright pick it … well you get the point. So today I sat on shuffle a lot and suddenly I realized just how horrid my collection can be. First, we have Edwin McCain’s I Could Not Ask For More. It was at that point that I realized that I had four copies of I’ll Be.  I fixed that fast. It is not a bad song, let’s face it, it was a great top 40. I can’t tell you how many goonball weddings I went to where they played that song, it was “their” song. I want to gag now that I think about it. I hope I can handle dinner tonight. 

Next up was a little angry bitch music, Alanis Morissette. This made me giggle a little as I recall when I bought her first album and I can tell you where I bought it. I can also tell you that the idea of “going down on [someone] in a movie theater” became a wildly popular idea in my under-developed mind. 

From there it went downhill in a serious way. Air Supply, Happy2bHardcore (from my “I wanna be a raver” days), Five (if you don’t remember these guys you’re seriously jaded cuz baby when the lights go out …), yeah it’s like that.  The day carries on and we wind up with a lot of country, a little TLC to remind me that I don’t want no scrubs, telling someone that God Must Have Spent A Little More Time On You, and of course, Time for People from Atomship. It is that song that reminds you that all you need are four chords and an electric guitar to make music memories. It’s the power ballad that either neither powerful or a ballad. You can almost shut your eyes and see this long hair gooney guy stand up at the mic and rock out, four beats at a time. 

Letting your music shuffle is like letting go of the world. It’s like turning on the radio where there is no DJ. It’s like saying that your entire library was a top 40 at some point. The random song shuffle is my way of saying … fuck you and fuck today because you may not know this, but I am 100% in control. 

It’s like that.

Rarely will you see anything of true substance but I figured the following should be noted:

In 2003 I started a blog on MoveableType, which is an awesome and powerful blog. However, a freak upgraded toasted much of my database (user error) so I moved from MoveableType to Wordpress. I have no idea if I have the older blog posts but I would venture to guess no one is going to miss them … I don’t.  In 2006 I moved to Wordpress and never upgraded the software. Last night I did, toasted my database and thanks to a couple of things such as Time Machine, the fact that I happened to try a manual backup of the blog on 4/15 that was deleted when I did the automated backup, and a nice tall (stiff) cocktail, I fixed the database and recovered my posts. So as of today I am on the most recent (stable) build of Wordpress and really enjoying the more feature-rich editor. More importantly, the HTML tags I was writing by hand are now effectively imbedded in a nice GUI so I never have to type <a href=”> again! 

With the update of the blog comes other features. Such as, when you people were jerking around with your camera phones in 2004 I was blogging from my Nokia phone. Oh yes, it was great fun! Just think of all the random shit I can do if I could post the second it happened! The world is definitely my oyster. So now, with Wordpress 2.7.1, my cell phone, and a nice free App from the App Store™, I can dish out all of this nonsense as it happens or at least in a more timely manner. I’m sure the three of you (My Readers™) are fucking thrilled. 

It is also worth noting that of the five headers available on this site two are photos I took. Do me a favor potential asswads, don’t rip them off ok? It’ll annoy me to no end. 

Finally, here’s the cold hard fact about this blog. You’re probably never going to find much of “me” splashed out on here. While I fully support the splashing out of my inner most thoughts I prefer to pick a handful of lucky people who get to put up my general bullshit. Much like the blog posts from 2003 - 2006, you’re really not missing much. 

Well, that should just about take care of the admin side of things. Until next time … next time being the moment someone does something utterly stupid in front of me and I have a chance to jot it down. Oh and the best part, I can post photos from my phone here … what is better than my stories? Photos of the events as they occur! 

If you’re wondering, all three of you that is, I am fully aware that I am destined for a good ass kicking. I know, it is bound to happen but when chased I run rather fast so I should be ok for about 1/4 a mile … hopefully the person I piss off is a smoker because while I may run fast I do not run far so I have to hedge my bets on their lungs being worse than mine.