Can't say I got much work done this weekend (I went home to celebrate my da' birthday and watch the Super Bowl with only one eye; the other was cocked towards the computer, if y'all want to know), using the time instead to fight nicotine cravings and write stuff well past their allotted deadline. (The His Secret Life review came out nigh ( Read more... )

I just noted that this block -- known to other Live Journal users -- is entitled "Event"; um...does something have to actually happen to get noted here? Otherwise, I'm shit out of luck.

So semi-productive day I had. Managed to watch three films: Bill Forsyth's Comfort and Joy (minor, like pretty much all Forsyths, I'd reckon, but I'm a sucker ( Read more... )

Okay, I know: I suck.

Anyway, thought I'd kick this back up (again?!) because it would give me an excuse to explain what I did day-by-day. First things first, though:

Current status: Still only working at the Weekly; second job or additional Weekly jobs (I'm thinking about applying to papers around the country, perhaps at random; worked for Sean ( Read more... )

Feeling bored and inert, an odd combination though not an unusual one for yours truly. So I come here. Sigh. I'm predicting that what follows will be both rambling and filled with tedious minutae. You've been warned ( Read more... )

Understandably, a great deal has transpired since my last posting (not in the real world, in my own little world). The biggest and most important news is that, just four hours ago, I up and resigned from the Orchestra. Before I saw Roger, I was feeling both headstrong and utterly terrified, an odd combination. Turns out Roger was a sweet-pie ( Read more... )

And don't let the above facetiousness distract you. For this year, I made a mental note to not be snide to or hurl zip-lock bags of dog feces at jubilant couples rampaging the streets of our fine city this year (Hi, Zoe! Hi, Jeremy!). I was too busy being one myself. That's right, this V-Day, I decided to spend a little time catching up with my ( Read more... )

I think it's official: I am a workaholic. I have added up the number of hours I work at both my jobs this week and it's come up to around 50. Doing customer service calls for the Orchestra, watching upteen movies per week and then writing something shit about them for the Weekly and then catching up with my film geek cohorts by seeing every movie ( Read more... )

Just FYI, it's 4am and I am so awake. So we're all on the same page, y'know ( Read more... )

There is nothing left to sell. Nothing at all. It was announced that there was now no such entity as a "subscription," to which I later exclaimed that I was suffering from "separation anxiety." Roger acquiesced: "I understand." That doesn't help. The mood was suitably foggy, anxious, overshades of ugliness. Marge, dear Marge, was the first to ( Read more... )

No doubt in conjunction with last time's (long-winded) journal entry, I have begun to quit smoking. One every three hours, maybe six a day en totale. They say you always have to fill that void with something, and for most it's food, nicorette or cow-tipping. Round these parts, it's Monopoly. And not just Monopoly -- film- or TV-related Monopoly ( Read more... )