Playing catsup.
//
Main:
Well, I'm still alive for the fifth unlikely time this month (second this week). I should probably stop drinking like that.
In other health related news, I haven't smoked for the last two weeks as part of my first phase to winning a rather difficult bet I find myself entangled in; one of my best friends from the area is leaving in a few days to officially join the army and the bet is that, after he gets back (sometime in August) from basic and his M.I. training that I'll be in better shape than him. That army bitch is goin' down.
I remember when I used to like my job. I mean, I really enjoyed it for the better part of two years, but this last year has been shit. I have three bosses, two of whom are potheads, and a third who is so consistently incompetent that he may as well be a pothead, too. The entire department, then, is essentially run by me and two other senior technicians, since none of our bosses have a bloody clue as to how to go about conducting an event efficiently; that is, budget limits (keeping it within the client's budget), equipment limits (since it's a practical impossibility to get them to replace broken and/or obsolete equipment and we really don't have the time to do all that maintenance all the time), and, most importantly, time limits (we rarely have the time or the proper crew size to achieve a particular task in the time allotted, but we're still expected to). And I hate most of our clients. Hate them. The reasons for this should be obvious.
Quotes:
"A man said to the universe:
'Sir I exist!'
'However,' replied the universe,
'The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.'"
-Stephen Crane, A Man Said To the Universe
"Life is not there to be understood, only endured and ameliorated."
-Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love
Call For Papers:
For those of you not terribly interested in catching up on my personal life (which I hope is most of you, as your own lives should be interesting enough that you don't need to worry about mine), you may (or may not) be interested in contributing to a project I'm currently working on.
I'm doing an independent study in editing and publishing this semester and, rather than rely on my local peers (a mistake in any situation) to provide me with quality material to work with, I was hoping some of the people sailing the vast binary seas of the Internet would like to contribute. If/when it gets printed, it's likely to be a small run (out of my own pocket), but I can promise to mail you at least a few finished products to do with as you so choose. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and even visual art pieces all welcome.
E-mail submissions to: kylespublishingproject@gmail.com
Main:
Well, I'm still alive for the fifth unlikely time this month (second this week). I should probably stop drinking like that.
In other health related news, I haven't smoked for the last two weeks as part of my first phase to winning a rather difficult bet I find myself entangled in; one of my best friends from the area is leaving in a few days to officially join the army and the bet is that, after he gets back (sometime in August) from basic and his M.I. training that I'll be in better shape than him. That army bitch is goin' down.
I remember when I used to like my job. I mean, I really enjoyed it for the better part of two years, but this last year has been shit. I have three bosses, two of whom are potheads, and a third who is so consistently incompetent that he may as well be a pothead, too. The entire department, then, is essentially run by me and two other senior technicians, since none of our bosses have a bloody clue as to how to go about conducting an event efficiently; that is, budget limits (keeping it within the client's budget), equipment limits (since it's a practical impossibility to get them to replace broken and/or obsolete equipment and we really don't have the time to do all that maintenance all the time), and, most importantly, time limits (we rarely have the time or the proper crew size to achieve a particular task in the time allotted, but we're still expected to). And I hate most of our clients. Hate them. The reasons for this should be obvious.
Quotes:
"A man said to the universe:
'Sir I exist!'
'However,' replied the universe,
'The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.'"
-Stephen Crane, A Man Said To the Universe
"Life is not there to be understood, only endured and ameliorated."
-Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love
Call For Papers:
For those of you not terribly interested in catching up on my personal life (which I hope is most of you, as your own lives should be interesting enough that you don't need to worry about mine), you may (or may not) be interested in contributing to a project I'm currently working on.
I'm doing an independent study in editing and publishing this semester and, rather than rely on my local peers (a mistake in any situation) to provide me with quality material to work with, I was hoping some of the people sailing the vast binary seas of the Internet would like to contribute. If/when it gets printed, it's likely to be a small run (out of my own pocket), but I can promise to mail you at least a few finished products to do with as you so choose. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and even visual art pieces all welcome.
E-mail submissions to: kylespublishingproject@gmail.com