Mmmmmmmmmmetric

Mmmmmm new song......

*

Andrew is sitting in a large Parisian apartment, installing anti-virus software on his boss's computer. It's been scanning now for over an hour and there's no indication of when it will be finished. After all, this computer has never had anti-virus software on it before. The panoramic view of the city unfolds behind him. He thinks it would have been nice to take a few pictres, but he didn't bring his camera today. Maybe next time. It's pouring down rain anyways.

Andrew isn't too sure when his boss will return from his business lunch and when this quiet solitude will end, so if this post ends abruptly

Time to get invited to some parties!

In no particular order, here is a list of people who I would like to meet before I/they die.

-Leslie Feist
-Haruki Murikami
-Stephen Colbert
-Jack White
-Meg White
-Bob Dylan
-Dorothy Gambrell
-Annie Liebowitz
-Scarlett Johansson
-Tom Waits
-Shelley Duval

I wish they would all do a big group photo.

Hmm, all artists... look at that.

Only 10 more days!

p.s. I'm going to see Feist.

Well, everyone else uses the internet for bitching, so why not?

Le sigh...

I am nearly six months single, and for lack of a better phrase, I'm starting to feel the burn. I'll be heading back to Canada in a little over a month to live with my parents. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the support, but the prospect of telling a pretty girl "Hey, I'm 25, have no job (or marketable skills) and live with my parents" is... well, shudder inducing.

I'm reading a lot of Murikami lately, which is good and bad. Good because he is an incredibly talent writer and quickly shooting to the top of my "Who would you like to meet" list. Bad because in every single one of his books the narrator ends up having a casual sexual affair with a woman that he will likely never see again. Not that that's what I'm looking for, but it always seems so effortless. How can that sort of going-on exist when I have a hard time keeping up a conversation with a girl I think is pretty? The cold hard fact is that I don't know how to talk to girls. I get all freezy. And that's a disturbing revelation.

I was at a party a few weeks ago and nearly as soon as I got in the door, a girl was talking to me about another guy at the party that she was in to (into? in-to?). I thought it was funny because I'd only known these people for a couple of weeks, and I was already the go-to guy for girls to talk about other guys with. I mentioned this to another guy who failed to see the self-depricating humour in the situation and proceeded to give me a 20-minute lecture on how to talk to girls. Unfortunately, it was mostly things like "You've got to decide that you're more interesting than the other guys that want to talk to her" (What?! "Deciding" to be interesting involves either a lifestyle change or a significant amount of lying), and also I had been drinking and tuned out a lot. The tuning out was in direct response to phrases like this one:

"You know, I don't mean to brag but I slept with four different girls this week. That's not me being 'oh look at me,' that's just the way it is."

Oh, Tony. You Italian stalion.

Dilema. I think this might be one of the problems that just gets worse and worse. The more aware I am of it, the more awkward and silent I am sure to become! Frick on a stick with a brick!

I guess I'll just have to hold out hope for that special girl to come along and make me forget my awkwardness, like in..... all those movies. You know why that happens in the movies? Because the writer creates his/her ideal world, and in an ideal world, things like that happen every ninty minutes.

Come on, universe! Am I really supposed to be this jaded?

"Hell is other people." - JPS

Happy Birthday to Bob Dylan, the one guy who wouldn't put up with all this crap.



*****************************

Today's one of those days. A grey day. A day for misanthropes.

Hooray for Harvey Pekar! Hooray for Alceste! Hooray for Kilgore Trout!

Citizen Braff?

Here's a topic for debate:

With "Garden State," Zach Braff created the seminal film of our generation (ie/ People born between 1980 and 1989).

I'm starting to think it's true. But maybe it's because there's finally a film with a main character named "Andrew."

Dr. Molly Clock

Ironically, transcribed at an office.

My fandom of The Office is well established. And, since I want to take a break from entering data, here is the funniest bit The Office has ever done (Skip ahead to 3:05, unless you're a fan of low-quality editing).



Dwight: Jim Jim Jim. Jim Jim Jim Jim Jim Jim Jim.

Jim: Oh. Hey, Dwight.

Dwight: I am going to be your new boss. It's my greatest dream come true. Welcome to the Hotel Hell! Check in time is now, check out time is NEVER!

Jim: Does my room have cable?

Dwight: No. And the sheets are made of FIRE!

Jim: Can I change rooms?

Dwight: Sorry, we're all booked up. Hell Convention in town!

Jim: Can I have a late check out?

Dwight: I'll have to talk to the manager.

Jim: You're not the manager? Even in your own fantasy?

Dwight: I'm the owner. The co-owner. With Satan!

Jim: Okay. Just so I understand it, in your wildest fantasy you are in Hell. And you are co-running a bed-and-breakfast with the devil.

Dwight: Yeah, but I haven't told you my salary yet.

Jim: Go.

Dwight: Eighty thousand dollars a year!

***

I love the off-kilter, yet seemingly normal questions Jim asks (I would want to change rooms too), coupled with Dwight's unflagging commitment to his fantasy. It's brilliant.

Structure? Structure.

I should not be allowed to have access to the internet at work. Seriously. If I just. type. haltingly. I can. pretend that. I am entering. data. and. thus. get paid.

I can feel my body deflating. I don't want to be here. But boy do I need the moolah, more than ever seeing as it might cost 590 - 640 euros to ship Nora home (roughly 3x the original cost). I need to measure her crate and email the people back.

How do people find a way to shut off their brain during the work day, especially if their job is as unstimulating as mine have been known to be? Maybe I'm one of the unlucky ones that needs to enjoy what they get paid to do.

I am getting itchy for a new way of life, but the work that it takes to get there is so very very dull.

Seriously though, she would look amazing in cleats...

If anyone wants to know what it feels like to see Scarlett Johansson in a game of softball, why not read this interview?

Oh, Pitchfork...

Right on, Joni

Damn, this whole "Regular computer has literally thousands of pieces of spyware on it and won't start, even if you paid it" thing sucks.