As I was checking out a customer today I happened across something I hadn't seen before and never really expected to: A bonus item with a training bra, multi-colored straps designed to match colors with whatever shirt the girl is wearing. You have a red shirt on and you can attach the strap of the same color.
They're called Stylin' Straps, and something struck me about them as being seriously wrong.
What possible reason could a child using a training bra need "Stylin' Straps" for anyway? The only people I can reasonably figure who would even be looking at that part of a 12- to 14-year-old girl would be her parents, or a pedophile. Boys her age aren't going to be interested in her Stylin' Straps. If my own childhood is any kind of measure of what a boy's mindset is during that time of life, if they like a girl they'll most likely still be pulling her pigtails to show it, not checking out what kind of bra strap action she has going on.
At least, I hope kids are still allowed to be that young for that long.
And if a young girl is still in a training bra, maybe - just maybe - it would be inappropriate for her to wear shirts with straps thin enough that they would neccessitate a matching-color strap for her bra.
I see this kind of thing more and more often in retail, though. Young girls being bought inappropriate clothing by their parents. It's bad enough that almost every pair of shorts for girls in the Juniors or younger departments are Daisy-Duke cuts (even down to toddler age), but I see mothers buying their daughters (some of whom can't be more than 13 or 14) thong underwear, strapless halter tops, and bikinis in cuts that could make a European blush.
Why do so many styles and brands seem intent on sexualizing America's children? Most companies put up a defense of, "We just make available popular styles." Well, if America's moms (I almost never see dads around when these skimpy styles are being purchased) would quit buying this crap for their daughters, maybe Candie's, Mudd and other purveyors of clothing would move on to a less sensual cut.
Because seriously, while Mom might think it's cute and all, Stylin' Straps and skimpy cuts in clothing for young girls are just an invitation for the John Wayne Gacys of the world.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
My Long Weekend
I work at a Very Big Department Store, who will remain unnamed for certain purposes like, as much as I dislike it, I'd actually like to keep my job, or as it is better known, the cash flow.
Let's just say great things can be expected by the folks who shop there.
Now, this Very Big Department Store has been one of the few businesses to show a profit on the books through the last Christmas season and up until this month. Because we don't rely on big purchases (washers, driers, TVs, etc.), our profit margin has been higher than most other department stores (or any stores for that matter). Just as well, in my little community when the Christmas season was upon us (and at timese since then) it has seemed that the shoppers there weren't aware of the economic trouble of our country. They came out in droves to our store while others felt the heat of the economic crisis.
The store is so economically healthy that we are actually hiring this month.
So why do I feel severely overworked the last few weekends?
The last few weekends I have experienced a scheduling phenomena I'd heard tell of but had not been privvy to myself: I was scheduled late one night and early the next day. For instance, last night I worked until 10:00 and was expected to be at work at 6:45 this morning, barely a 9-hour turnaround. Now, this might not be too noteworthy except for the fact that, within the space of two weekends, they did it to me three times - twice in one weekend. I have worked at the store for more than four years and never had this kind of schedule.
I can only hope that, as more people get hired, the workload may be taken off myself and my fellow workers.
I can also hope that my good friend who just applied there will get an interview, especially since I put a good word in for him with my manager.
The surprising thing about recent hires is the fact that a number of them walk off after a couple of days or a week. I understand that this is a fairly regular practice in the retail world, but you would think that in this economy people would be greatful to have a job and not just throw it away.
Oh well, I suppose there is no accounting for class or taste when you need warm bodies to press buttons and hawk credit cards.
Let's just say great things can be expected by the folks who shop there.
Now, this Very Big Department Store has been one of the few businesses to show a profit on the books through the last Christmas season and up until this month. Because we don't rely on big purchases (washers, driers, TVs, etc.), our profit margin has been higher than most other department stores (or any stores for that matter). Just as well, in my little community when the Christmas season was upon us (and at timese since then) it has seemed that the shoppers there weren't aware of the economic trouble of our country. They came out in droves to our store while others felt the heat of the economic crisis.
The store is so economically healthy that we are actually hiring this month.
So why do I feel severely overworked the last few weekends?
The last few weekends I have experienced a scheduling phenomena I'd heard tell of but had not been privvy to myself: I was scheduled late one night and early the next day. For instance, last night I worked until 10:00 and was expected to be at work at 6:45 this morning, barely a 9-hour turnaround. Now, this might not be too noteworthy except for the fact that, within the space of two weekends, they did it to me three times - twice in one weekend. I have worked at the store for more than four years and never had this kind of schedule.
I can only hope that, as more people get hired, the workload may be taken off myself and my fellow workers.
I can also hope that my good friend who just applied there will get an interview, especially since I put a good word in for him with my manager.
The surprising thing about recent hires is the fact that a number of them walk off after a couple of days or a week. I understand that this is a fairly regular practice in the retail world, but you would think that in this economy people would be greatful to have a job and not just throw it away.
Oh well, I suppose there is no accounting for class or taste when you need warm bodies to press buttons and hawk credit cards.
Friday, May 29, 2009
When the Zombie Apocalypse Comes, Will We Still be Able to Order Out?
The breakdown of society.
That is the core theme at the root of most Zombie movies. One thing goes wrong and poof! The whole system crumbles. One tiny little microbe gets on a dead body, reanimates it, it bites someone who dies and then is reanimated and before you know it the whole town is a mess of limping, rotting, moaning once-humans who are now the physical embodiment of walking death.
Kinda like what happens when a Wal-Mart rolls into town.
The semiotics of Zombie movies and modern society hit me like a ton of bricks last winter when, as the local bus system was unable to get around the several feet of snow (I live in a small college town about an hour and a half south of Chicago). This bus system being unable to move people around caused all kinds of problems: Both the local universities shut down for the day, numerous stores including the one I worked at, as well as the mall it was attached to, closed for weather reasons for the first time in something like 15 years. Hospitals were left without janitorial staff and the lower-grade nurses and orderlies. The town pretty much broke down for about 2 or 3 days straight.
And as it all happened, all I could think of was how much this breakdown based on the removal of one little cog was like a Zombie movie. I had also been reading the "Zombie Survival Guide" at the time, so I was in a prime state to think on these things. But ever since I have read that book, the idea that a Zombie Apocalypse (or something like it) might be unleashed on the world has never been far from my mind.
Fortunately, throughout the abysmal snow storm, I could still get pizzas and Jimmy John's delivered directly to my door.
Society, relationships, any kind of social structure, is a house of cards. Remove one piece, and often the whole thing comes tumbling down, as is evident with the country's recent economic troubles: AIG, GM, most of the major banks. These are all so big and so powerful that, were they to fail, America's economy would collaps faster than a roadrunner dashing away from a coyote. But even if that happened I'd probably still be able to get pizza delivered to my door. I guess no matter what, some things may never change.
So, when the Zombie Apocalypse comes, do you think we'll still be able to order out?
That is the core theme at the root of most Zombie movies. One thing goes wrong and poof! The whole system crumbles. One tiny little microbe gets on a dead body, reanimates it, it bites someone who dies and then is reanimated and before you know it the whole town is a mess of limping, rotting, moaning once-humans who are now the physical embodiment of walking death.
Kinda like what happens when a Wal-Mart rolls into town.
The semiotics of Zombie movies and modern society hit me like a ton of bricks last winter when, as the local bus system was unable to get around the several feet of snow (I live in a small college town about an hour and a half south of Chicago). This bus system being unable to move people around caused all kinds of problems: Both the local universities shut down for the day, numerous stores including the one I worked at, as well as the mall it was attached to, closed for weather reasons for the first time in something like 15 years. Hospitals were left without janitorial staff and the lower-grade nurses and orderlies. The town pretty much broke down for about 2 or 3 days straight.
And as it all happened, all I could think of was how much this breakdown based on the removal of one little cog was like a Zombie movie. I had also been reading the "Zombie Survival Guide" at the time, so I was in a prime state to think on these things. But ever since I have read that book, the idea that a Zombie Apocalypse (or something like it) might be unleashed on the world has never been far from my mind.
Fortunately, throughout the abysmal snow storm, I could still get pizzas and Jimmy John's delivered directly to my door.
Society, relationships, any kind of social structure, is a house of cards. Remove one piece, and often the whole thing comes tumbling down, as is evident with the country's recent economic troubles: AIG, GM, most of the major banks. These are all so big and so powerful that, were they to fail, America's economy would collaps faster than a roadrunner dashing away from a coyote. But even if that happened I'd probably still be able to get pizza delivered to my door. I guess no matter what, some things may never change.
So, when the Zombie Apocalypse comes, do you think we'll still be able to order out?
Thursday, May 28, 2009
I don't think I can convey on here how much I absolutely hate the work of "home improvement."
In the other room my father is currently watching Trading Spaces, which is apparently a show that is absolutely loved by everyone from my mother, father, ex-stepmother, people at work...
I just don't get it. Yeah, I love to have a room that is nice and looks good. I even like to think about how a given room like my bedroom would look with the furniture re-arranged for a different/more feng-shui look and feel.
But I just cannot get into the actual doing of re-arranging that room.
Maybe it's the fact that my afore-mentioned ex-stepmother was a bit overzealous whenever we would get down to doing home improvement work. Maybe it was the fact that we would always try to complete job A with tools fit for job B. Maybe it was the fact that what should have been a simple one-day job of painting a wall invariably would turn into a complex, weeks-long repolish of the entire room.
Whatever the reason, I have been spoiled for life on home improvement projects, to the point that I cannot watch even a few seconds of shows like Trading Spaces without feeling physically nauseated.
When I own a house of my own some day in the future, if and when I deem it necessary to redo a room (and that will be a big "if,") I will most definitely hire someone to do it for me. And if I can't afford to outsource, it's just not going to happen. It's that simple.
I hate, hate, hate, HATE home improvement.
In the other room my father is currently watching Trading Spaces, which is apparently a show that is absolutely loved by everyone from my mother, father, ex-stepmother, people at work...
I just don't get it. Yeah, I love to have a room that is nice and looks good. I even like to think about how a given room like my bedroom would look with the furniture re-arranged for a different/more feng-shui look and feel.
But I just cannot get into the actual doing of re-arranging that room.
Maybe it's the fact that my afore-mentioned ex-stepmother was a bit overzealous whenever we would get down to doing home improvement work. Maybe it was the fact that we would always try to complete job A with tools fit for job B. Maybe it was the fact that what should have been a simple one-day job of painting a wall invariably would turn into a complex, weeks-long repolish of the entire room.
Whatever the reason, I have been spoiled for life on home improvement projects, to the point that I cannot watch even a few seconds of shows like Trading Spaces without feeling physically nauseated.
When I own a house of my own some day in the future, if and when I deem it necessary to redo a room (and that will be a big "if,") I will most definitely hire someone to do it for me. And if I can't afford to outsource, it's just not going to happen. It's that simple.
I hate, hate, hate, HATE home improvement.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Rome fell. Greece fell. Italy, German, the British Empires all eventually burned out or faded away. It's bound to happen to America too. That isn't a threat and it's not a psychotic rant, it's just acceptance of historical fact. I hope to God it won't happen for hundreds of years, but right now it doesn't seem far off.
I suppose that's how people felt during the Great Depression.
Look at what's happening with the Sotomayor issue: The actual people making decisions refuse to comment on her or her abilities yet the pundits and the hosts (you know the usual suspects, Limbaugh, Hannity, et. al.) feel it is their appointed duty to take each and every one of her flaws, hold it up in front of a magnifying glass and put it out there as a reason not to let her be a Supreme Justice.
Never mind the fact that she has more experience than anyone nominated for the position in the last 100 years. Never mind the fact that many of her decisions have an eye towards pragmatism rather than elitism, activism or idealism.
And isn't it funny that we're throwing around all these isms like any of them matter in this post-modern world where so many things from our music to our TV shows to our movies to our art resist labels? Maybe that's why people so want to label things in the political world so readily. Nothing else fits into black-and-whites anymore. Everything else is gray, why should we let our political world be so?
I suppose that's how people felt during the Great Depression.
Look at what's happening with the Sotomayor issue: The actual people making decisions refuse to comment on her or her abilities yet the pundits and the hosts (you know the usual suspects, Limbaugh, Hannity, et. al.) feel it is their appointed duty to take each and every one of her flaws, hold it up in front of a magnifying glass and put it out there as a reason not to let her be a Supreme Justice.
Never mind the fact that she has more experience than anyone nominated for the position in the last 100 years. Never mind the fact that many of her decisions have an eye towards pragmatism rather than elitism, activism or idealism.
And isn't it funny that we're throwing around all these isms like any of them matter in this post-modern world where so many things from our music to our TV shows to our movies to our art resist labels? Maybe that's why people so want to label things in the political world so readily. Nothing else fits into black-and-whites anymore. Everything else is gray, why should we let our political world be so?
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Tale of King Bush 43rd
This is something I wrote waaay back when the war in Iraq had just started. I know there really isn't much political resonance to this today but I think it's a fairly good piece of writing and would like to share it on here:
There was once a man named George Herbert Walker Bush. He and his wife so wanted a child but try as they might one would not come. Then, George went to a prophet who told them that they should have no less than two children. One would be a fairly good fellow with a penchant for nepotism and shady hiring practices. George was happy to hear this, as these were good attributes in middle- to upper-management and even political positions and so could make the family some good money. George asked what the other child would be like and the prophet told him that the second son would one day rule over all the free world, but that his rule would be a cruel and terrible blight upon the land.
George felt that his heart would burst with joy! “The family is assured prosperity for many years to come!” he rejoiced.
George ran home to tell his wife the good news and soon two boys were born of the couple, Jeb and George Washington Bush.
Over the years the elder George became king of the land, following the reign of King Ronald of Hollywood. The elder George vowed to fix all the country’s money problems without raising taxes and the people rejoiced – until their taxes went up by 2%. In this time Jeb also became ruler of a portion of the land of America that was known as Florida.
Now, the Elder George in his time was not a great king. A war began with a foreign land. “Give us oil!” the elder George would proclaim. To which Saddam Hussein – the ruler of this other land – would reply:
“That I cannot give. But if you invade my land I will kill you.”
This was not a very nice thing to say, but understandable, as King George’s army was about to enter a sovereign nation. But the occupation would not last long, a matter of weeks, perhaps at most. Because he had no other choice, and because it was an election year, the Elder George had to withdraw his soldiers from the land of Iraq. But this would prove foolhardy, as the people soon elected a new king, King Bill the 42nd, under whose rule the land would prosper and its people would be happy for the eight years that made up the length of his service, but that is a tale for another day.
Now, at the end of King Bill’s rule, the son of George the Elder – not Jeb but George the Younger – decided that he should be King. George the Younger had run several businesses of his own, a baseball team and had once been ruler over the land of Texas. All had ended in disaster, but George the Younger felt that he was ready to be King.
But how? Many people in the land of America were not even aware that George the Elder had sons old enough to become King.
“Don’t worry,” said Karl the Magician. “I will put a spell on all the people of the land, that they might look upon you, and love you dearly and defend you at every step of the way, no matter what ill you may do. And our soldiers shall look upon you with even greater love and be ready to fight to their death at your single command.
“And if that doesn’t work,” Karl said to himself, “I’m sure your brother Jeb can make sure we win some very important votes in the land of Florida…”
The day of the election came and everyone thought that Prince Al, the second to King Bill, would become next King. He won the vote of the people, but through a trick of magick and math – and with the help of something called the Electoral College – the land of Florida was won by George the Younger. Prince Al was outraged, and so were the people – at least, those not under Karl the Magician’s spell, which as it turned out wasn’t as effective as he had hoped. Prince Al called for a recount of the votes in Florida, he raised a fuss, for Prince Al knew that something was amiss.
The highest court in the land, however, said otherwise. It probably helped George the Younger’s case that his father had appointed several of the judges in that court, who were all too happy to help George the Younger out of his situation.
It came to pass that George the Younger was crowned King George the 43rd, and he immediately began to make plans to destroy the man who threatened his father, Saddam Hussein.
“Bide your time,” Karl the Magician told the new King. So King George waited, and planned. And as he did so he cut off relations with the other lands that the kings before him had worked so hard to keep up. King George cut out a great many programs King Bill had set up to help the people and a general malaise began to set in amongst the people of America.
Within the space of one year, King George took six months of vacation time. Seeing that the king was happy and contented the people, in a state of severe apathy, began to settle in, deciding to wait out the next four years until something better came along in the form of a new king.
And then a great and terrible tragedy occurred. Agents of a land other than Iraq, but of the same peoples, plotted to destroy the Great Towers of World Trade in the land of New York as well as the pentagon-shaped fortress, which was in the same town that King George did his kingly work. Several of King George’s spies learned of this plot and tried to tell the King but he and all his advisors ignored the warning. Perhaps they just did not care, or maybe Karl the Magician whispered into George’s ear that the possible destruction of the Towers would bring the king one step closer to Iraq. Whatever the case may be, King George ignored the warning.
On the 11th of September, the Great Towers fell and the pentagon-shaped fortress in Washington, D.C. was attacked. The people of the land turned to King George and Prince Dick for guidance, but they were nowhere to be found. Prince Dick was rumored to be hidden away in underground quarters so remote, not even the king knew where it was. As for King George, he made a few appearances in court, telling the people to remain calm and go about their business as usual, that the people who had attacked America wanted all that to end.
But in spite of his brave words, the king did not resume his own affairs as normal. Instead, he immediately began planning to take over Iraq. Karl the Magician and Prince Dick had a superb plan, it had to work. First, they would invade the land of Afghanistan – which was, of course, the real place America’s attackers, who came to be called terrorists, were hiding. But nobody intended to actually catch the terrorists. King George was biding his time until it was just right to send his army into Iraq.
“They will greet us as liberators!” Court Jesters Rummy and Condi cheered in unison as they performed for King and court on the day of the first attack on Iraq. “Through shock and awe we will capture their hearts and minds!”
“And if that doesn’t do it, our arrow men will take care of the rabble,” Karl the Magician whispered in King George’s ear.”
Thus began a terrible and long war. The people of Iraq did not respond to King Bush’s threats, neither did they capitulate to the armies that came to overrun them. The people of Iraq became “insurgents.” In defense of their own land they took to some of the ways of the terrorists in order that they might drive out the armies of the invading country.
But it was to no avail. America’s armies stayed planted in Iraq, even after Bush had taken his revenge against Saddam Hussein and had him found, tried and executed. New kings came to take up reign over America but found it impossible to remove the men and women who were in Iraq even as America fell as an economic, educational and otherwise leader of the world.
As time went on, neither King Bush nor his compatriots, Karl the Magician, Prince Dick or Court Jesters Rummy and Condi were punished for their crimes, and the people lost faith in their government. The country descended into chaos and anarchy as writers, politicians, artists and sages all pointed fingers but refused to accept their own inaction in all that took place. Thus the once-great land of America fell and perished.
There was once a man named George Herbert Walker Bush. He and his wife so wanted a child but try as they might one would not come. Then, George went to a prophet who told them that they should have no less than two children. One would be a fairly good fellow with a penchant for nepotism and shady hiring practices. George was happy to hear this, as these were good attributes in middle- to upper-management and even political positions and so could make the family some good money. George asked what the other child would be like and the prophet told him that the second son would one day rule over all the free world, but that his rule would be a cruel and terrible blight upon the land.
George felt that his heart would burst with joy! “The family is assured prosperity for many years to come!” he rejoiced.
George ran home to tell his wife the good news and soon two boys were born of the couple, Jeb and George Washington Bush.
Over the years the elder George became king of the land, following the reign of King Ronald of Hollywood. The elder George vowed to fix all the country’s money problems without raising taxes and the people rejoiced – until their taxes went up by 2%. In this time Jeb also became ruler of a portion of the land of America that was known as Florida.
Now, the Elder George in his time was not a great king. A war began with a foreign land. “Give us oil!” the elder George would proclaim. To which Saddam Hussein – the ruler of this other land – would reply:
“That I cannot give. But if you invade my land I will kill you.”
This was not a very nice thing to say, but understandable, as King George’s army was about to enter a sovereign nation. But the occupation would not last long, a matter of weeks, perhaps at most. Because he had no other choice, and because it was an election year, the Elder George had to withdraw his soldiers from the land of Iraq. But this would prove foolhardy, as the people soon elected a new king, King Bill the 42nd, under whose rule the land would prosper and its people would be happy for the eight years that made up the length of his service, but that is a tale for another day.
Now, at the end of King Bill’s rule, the son of George the Elder – not Jeb but George the Younger – decided that he should be King. George the Younger had run several businesses of his own, a baseball team and had once been ruler over the land of Texas. All had ended in disaster, but George the Younger felt that he was ready to be King.
But how? Many people in the land of America were not even aware that George the Elder had sons old enough to become King.
“Don’t worry,” said Karl the Magician. “I will put a spell on all the people of the land, that they might look upon you, and love you dearly and defend you at every step of the way, no matter what ill you may do. And our soldiers shall look upon you with even greater love and be ready to fight to their death at your single command.
“And if that doesn’t work,” Karl said to himself, “I’m sure your brother Jeb can make sure we win some very important votes in the land of Florida…”
The day of the election came and everyone thought that Prince Al, the second to King Bill, would become next King. He won the vote of the people, but through a trick of magick and math – and with the help of something called the Electoral College – the land of Florida was won by George the Younger. Prince Al was outraged, and so were the people – at least, those not under Karl the Magician’s spell, which as it turned out wasn’t as effective as he had hoped. Prince Al called for a recount of the votes in Florida, he raised a fuss, for Prince Al knew that something was amiss.
The highest court in the land, however, said otherwise. It probably helped George the Younger’s case that his father had appointed several of the judges in that court, who were all too happy to help George the Younger out of his situation.
It came to pass that George the Younger was crowned King George the 43rd, and he immediately began to make plans to destroy the man who threatened his father, Saddam Hussein.
“Bide your time,” Karl the Magician told the new King. So King George waited, and planned. And as he did so he cut off relations with the other lands that the kings before him had worked so hard to keep up. King George cut out a great many programs King Bill had set up to help the people and a general malaise began to set in amongst the people of America.
Within the space of one year, King George took six months of vacation time. Seeing that the king was happy and contented the people, in a state of severe apathy, began to settle in, deciding to wait out the next four years until something better came along in the form of a new king.
And then a great and terrible tragedy occurred. Agents of a land other than Iraq, but of the same peoples, plotted to destroy the Great Towers of World Trade in the land of New York as well as the pentagon-shaped fortress, which was in the same town that King George did his kingly work. Several of King George’s spies learned of this plot and tried to tell the King but he and all his advisors ignored the warning. Perhaps they just did not care, or maybe Karl the Magician whispered into George’s ear that the possible destruction of the Towers would bring the king one step closer to Iraq. Whatever the case may be, King George ignored the warning.
On the 11th of September, the Great Towers fell and the pentagon-shaped fortress in Washington, D.C. was attacked. The people of the land turned to King George and Prince Dick for guidance, but they were nowhere to be found. Prince Dick was rumored to be hidden away in underground quarters so remote, not even the king knew where it was. As for King George, he made a few appearances in court, telling the people to remain calm and go about their business as usual, that the people who had attacked America wanted all that to end.
But in spite of his brave words, the king did not resume his own affairs as normal. Instead, he immediately began planning to take over Iraq. Karl the Magician and Prince Dick had a superb plan, it had to work. First, they would invade the land of Afghanistan – which was, of course, the real place America’s attackers, who came to be called terrorists, were hiding. But nobody intended to actually catch the terrorists. King George was biding his time until it was just right to send his army into Iraq.
“They will greet us as liberators!” Court Jesters Rummy and Condi cheered in unison as they performed for King and court on the day of the first attack on Iraq. “Through shock and awe we will capture their hearts and minds!”
“And if that doesn’t do it, our arrow men will take care of the rabble,” Karl the Magician whispered in King George’s ear.”
Thus began a terrible and long war. The people of Iraq did not respond to King Bush’s threats, neither did they capitulate to the armies that came to overrun them. The people of Iraq became “insurgents.” In defense of their own land they took to some of the ways of the terrorists in order that they might drive out the armies of the invading country.
But it was to no avail. America’s armies stayed planted in Iraq, even after Bush had taken his revenge against Saddam Hussein and had him found, tried and executed. New kings came to take up reign over America but found it impossible to remove the men and women who were in Iraq even as America fell as an economic, educational and otherwise leader of the world.
As time went on, neither King Bush nor his compatriots, Karl the Magician, Prince Dick or Court Jesters Rummy and Condi were punished for their crimes, and the people lost faith in their government. The country descended into chaos and anarchy as writers, politicians, artists and sages all pointed fingers but refused to accept their own inaction in all that took place. Thus the once-great land of America fell and perished.
Monday, May 25, 2009
My First Blog/Memorial Day Rant
Well, I am finally joining the 21st Century. Only 200 more years before we're traveling at Warp Speed, am I right? Well, I guess a little bit about me is in order. I've recently graduated from ISU (Illinois State University) with a degree in theatre/directing (any theatre people reading this, I am willing to work in anything - tech, design, writing, acting, directing...I need work!). I have found that despite reassurances that a degree in Theatre would be good anywhere from the business world to government, there really aren't that many prospects out there in this economy. So I work my butt off at a Very Big Department Store and hope I can sell one of my screenplays (inquiries about that can be sent to BFFWilco247@hotmail.com).
So, what is my blog going to be about? Well, just about anything I guess. Relationships, art, music, movies, sex, drugs, rock and roll, comic books, literature, whatever I'm thinking about I'll write about it. My main goal is just to write a little something every day. I am told that, as a writer, if you don't write every day your writing muscles (and not just the ones in your hand) get atrophied and cramped. Well, I will try not to let that happen. I am also going to start work on a new screenplay in the next couple of weeks so updates will be forthcoming as well.
It has been excruciating trying to watch the last few days of Cubs baseball, what with all the losing and the sucking. But in inning three against the Pirates Cubs just pulled ahead 4-3. Let's hope the game picks up even more.
Well, I guess that's it for my first blog. There's no new episodes of 24, Lost, Family Guy or anything else to comment on this week, and while I just read a few new issues of Buffy and Angel, they're from last month so I will wait until I am up to date on those before I comment (but I'm really loving the respective storylines.)
As Red Green says, keep your stick on the ice. I'll be pulling for you.
So, what is my blog going to be about? Well, just about anything I guess. Relationships, art, music, movies, sex, drugs, rock and roll, comic books, literature, whatever I'm thinking about I'll write about it. My main goal is just to write a little something every day. I am told that, as a writer, if you don't write every day your writing muscles (and not just the ones in your hand) get atrophied and cramped. Well, I will try not to let that happen. I am also going to start work on a new screenplay in the next couple of weeks so updates will be forthcoming as well.
It has been excruciating trying to watch the last few days of Cubs baseball, what with all the losing and the sucking. But in inning three against the Pirates Cubs just pulled ahead 4-3. Let's hope the game picks up even more.
Well, I guess that's it for my first blog. There's no new episodes of 24, Lost, Family Guy or anything else to comment on this week, and while I just read a few new issues of Buffy and Angel, they're from last month so I will wait until I am up to date on those before I comment (but I'm really loving the respective storylines.)
As Red Green says, keep your stick on the ice. I'll be pulling for you.
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