This is all your fault, Marty
Cossar and I came to a decision last night: 2007 sucks. I mean, it really does. It's not just February. Bad things have happened this year: Ben died last week. My magazine went out of business and we all lost our jobs. My aunt died yesterday. And buildings in the Bronx full of kids keep burning down. See, totally crap year. But what makes this year different from all others?
Martin Scorsese has an Oscar. Clearly, this has upset the balance of the universe and must be corrected in order for the bad things to stop happening. So in the spirit of Fanboys, which I will now have to pay to see with all the other unwashed masses, I suggest a cross-country road trip to correct the situation. Uh, except that Martin Scorsese lives in New York. Okay, we'll go tomorrow and take the little bugger away from him. Who's in?
My class yesterday was about ten minutes from brain death. It was that bad. My teacher has this obnoxious habit of bringing stacks of handouts to class and then having us read them aloud, one paragraph at a time. Rather than, like, emailing the handouts to us before class and then discussing them, as any normal postgraduate instructor would do. Because clearly I'm paying the GDP of a small Central American nation to read aloud, as if this were the Amazing Second Grade Phonics Circle. Yesterday's class (as well as last week's) was about manuscript editing, and if there's one thing I wanted to do twenty-four hours after losing my editorial job it was go through copyediting exercises one by one. OMG.
So today I have an interview about some freelance copyediting, and tomorrow an HR interview. I also plan to do something with the boxes that are in our hallway, and get ready for the Food & Games party on Saturday. Yes, it is still happening. I'm planning to go home on Sunday to spend a few days with my mom, then fly to Seattle for my aunt's funeral with my dad and the rest of the family. It's not like I have anything better to do. I signed my severance agreement before I left work on Tuesday, but I haven't decided what to do about COBRA yet. That's a lot of fucking money, man.
Martin Scorsese has an Oscar. Clearly, this has upset the balance of the universe and must be corrected in order for the bad things to stop happening. So in the spirit of Fanboys, which I will now have to pay to see with all the other unwashed masses, I suggest a cross-country road trip to correct the situation. Uh, except that Martin Scorsese lives in New York. Okay, we'll go tomorrow and take the little bugger away from him. Who's in?
My class yesterday was about ten minutes from brain death. It was that bad. My teacher has this obnoxious habit of bringing stacks of handouts to class and then having us read them aloud, one paragraph at a time. Rather than, like, emailing the handouts to us before class and then discussing them, as any normal postgraduate instructor would do. Because clearly I'm paying the GDP of a small Central American nation to read aloud, as if this were the Amazing Second Grade Phonics Circle. Yesterday's class (as well as last week's) was about manuscript editing, and if there's one thing I wanted to do twenty-four hours after losing my editorial job it was go through copyediting exercises one by one. OMG.
So today I have an interview about some freelance copyediting, and tomorrow an HR interview. I also plan to do something with the boxes that are in our hallway, and get ready for the Food & Games party on Saturday. Yes, it is still happening. I'm planning to go home on Sunday to spend a few days with my mom, then fly to Seattle for my aunt's funeral with my dad and the rest of the family. It's not like I have anything better to do. I signed my severance agreement before I left work on Tuesday, but I haven't decided what to do about COBRA yet. That's a lot of fucking money, man.