The Baby Jesus Wails

Santa: First Strike!

COMING THIS CHRISTMAS:  It's been a long, hard summer as the elves toil mercilessly under the benevolent fist of Old Man Santa.  As winter sets in, so do the looming 20 hour days and cold, harsh air.  The underlying hostility of years past takes a stunning and dramatic turn this year when Santa begins to outsource his more lucrative jobs in order to fill some dubious "nice" orders.  The elves grow increasingly agitated and talk of unionizing permiates the workshop.  Santa, on the other hand, has some ideas of his own....

You don't want to miss this action-packed movie from the North Pole!!  Starring Jack Nicholson as Santa, Samuel L. Jackson as Inspector Elf #39, and Danny Devito as Eddie Elf, Julianna Moore as Mrs. Claus, with appearances by Christopher Walken, Robin Williams, and Conan O'Brien.

(I must say, God Bless Texas.  And I really don't want to know if you can buy that here in Wisconsin.)

Dear Airport Voice,

If you don't want me to make inappropriate jokes, don't remind me that I shouldn't make them every ten minutes. Do you know why? Because five immediately pop into my head when you do that.

Also, we don't need to hear that the nondenominational chapel in the airport is open 24-7, or at least not like it's an important announcement. (Ah, Texas!)

Thanks,
Your Friendly Airtraveler

Why I need a vacation.

I'm afraid of what's coming and how this is going to happen.

Mr. Asshat has not found a job yet. He will most likely end up on the streets. He will also probably loose what little he has - a bed, bookcase, desk, dresser, clothing, books, computer. I want to help him, but I can't, and I know I can't. I can support myself on my income, and have money left over to do things I enjoy. I can't support two people, and really, in case anyone is wondering, I'm not about to. I live in terror that he's going to ask me to house him, because I will have to say no. He can't pay rent, and he'd have to fill out a lease if he stays with me...and since he can't pay rent, that's not going to happen, nor will I risk being evicted or kicked out for keeping a person at my apartment without the office's notice. I can't afford to move again, and worse, if it's because of him, I highly doubt that my aunt and my dad would help. So for seven hundred thousand reasons, the biggest one being that I just don't want him to live with me, the answer will have to be no.

I do not want to be asked, because I do not want to have to answer.

But how fucking nice, eh? Mr. Nonconfrontational gets mad if he has to deal with people he doesn't know doing things that they're not supposed to, might ask me something that I will have to be confrontational about. I wish that I had the ability to arrange my life so that I had as little confrontation as possible. Mr. Nonconfrontational, who never tells me when he's mad, when he is mad, and instead festers and simmers until it blows up into a really big confrontation, and that really, really drives me insane. Mr. Nonconfrontational, who asks, "What is wrong with me?" but really means it as a rhetorical question, and if you attempt to answer it, will get mad at you, because, I suppose, you weren't suppose to notice that there is something wrong with him. Never mind trying, in an adult manner like adults should do, discussing problems and disagreements, and trying to work your way through it.

Remember, Mr. Asshat, that conversation in the bar just after we broke up? Why It Was Good For You vs. Why It Was Good For Me? You had one reason. I probably would have thought and listed more, but after an hour and a half, I got kinda tired of talking about it. And you don't see where I would have been bitter and resentful for all those reasons - I lost count of the number - and that would feed into your One Big Reason? If you had treated me better and like a human being instead of a peon, that that One Big Reason wouldn't have been a reason at all? And why on earth, when you can fucking do calculous for fun, can you not get this, after how many fucking times of telling you this? Oh, maybe this will help:

Belittlingme(Ignoringme)(Kickedintheleg²)
------------------------------------------ = |Bitter(Resentment)|²
(Entitlementtomymoney)

Would that help? I could give you the values of each. You might need to use your calculator, though, because the numbers are pretty big.

But as resentful as I am, I do feel sorry for him and I do care. I really don't want him to think that denying him a place to live is connected to those feelings, because it's not. It's not the years wasted on a fool; it's the self-preservation. This is not a responsibility that I can take on, even if I wanted to take it on. In some ways, that makes me more logical than he is. I just can't do it, and that's the simple truth. But I know in my heart what he's probably going to think about it, because I've heard him say things too many times to know that he's going to think I'm doing this out of spite, when, for the love of God, I'm not. And I know from experience that he won't listen to what I'm saying. If I made a few hundred thousand dollars a year, I'd take in all of my favorite jobless friends, rent-free, until they find a job (I would, for the record, also have a pony and a large house on Lake Drive). But as it stands, I can't even take in one jobless friend.

I guess really what this is about, is that I'm probably going to lose a friend over something that I have no ability to control, and he will probably blame it on me. And stubborn me, I refuse to take the blame for something that is clearly not my fault. If it were my fault, I'd accept the blame for it. The thing is, he has to assign blame to everything, so if it's not my fault, then it's his. After he's out on the streets, how long will he last? Will his health get the best of him or his mind? Or will he commit suicide, which I think is rather likely?

Lord, I know ask too much, but really, just drop a fucking job in his lap? Oh, wait, who am I kidding? He probably wouldn't know it....

*Sigh*

Now, not only do I need a vacation, I need a drink.

So I was in WalMart buying stuff to organize with, when I came upon the most horrificly tacky splendor EVER.  In fact, I was so in awe of this abomination, that I stood in the aise shaking my head and muttering to myself, basking in its full and awful tacky glory.  If you have a sensitive stomach, I do not recommend looking further, as this is not for the faint of heart:

Yes, folks, that is the 6-foot inflatable snowglobe with a motor to blow the snow pellets on the characters.  But then, something else caught my eye.  OH. MY. GOD.  There was something EVEN TACKIER featured right next to it!

For $139.96, you too can sell your soul to Satan and make the baby Jesus cry!  Why, yes, Virginia, there is such a thing as a 8-foot Rotating Carousel Christmas Airblown Inflatable!  And I do suggest that you go see it in the store.  You really can't grasp the true horror of this unwieldy lawn orniment until you actally see it in action.

On the upside of this terrible discovery, I have now altered my plans of sightseeing the Worst Displays of Christmas to include a quest to find the tacky, heartless soul who puts these hideous mannifestations of the pagan holiday on their front lawn. Thank God I took the Friday before Christmas off of work!

Hiding in the Shadows

I want a space where only the random stranger can see me. So it's off to myspace for everyone else, and just me here. Which is what I want. Sometimes, I want to be alone. Alone in the distance, away from the crowd, to stand back and enjoy a cacophonously serene moment, before I plunge back into the crowd. Like a moment of Zen at a crowded, noisy bar. To live in the spaces of others, in the cracks, unknown, unloved and alone. To be seen and unseen, observe the world from within, because I see myself in their eyes, shades of being and feeling. My reflections from afar, unweary and unknowing, still clinging to the ever-dwindling supply of the commdity hope. But yet, take heart, for all that is needed is but an ounce, a modest amount, you will agree.

Alone in the Night.

[Help Desk Dude]: So what's your problem?

[Me]: Well, I just got a new computer, and one of the programs isn't working.

[HDD]: Which one?

[Me]: Well, the [Really Important Program]. I need it to perform my main job function.

[HDD]: (clicking in background) Ah, I see. Ok, we'll need to reinstall it.

[A few moments of clickity-clack and setting up NetMeeting so that he can control my computer.]

[HDD]: Well, let's try installing [RIP], since it failed the first time. (clicks on program)

[Several minutes later...]

[HDD]: Wow, that's taking a long time.

[Me]: Yeah. I also don't know if you have to install something else first, or what.

[HDD]: Huh. [Noises in background.] Wow, it just got pitch black here.

[Background Voices]: "Whoa! It's dark out there!" "Isn't there some kind of warning?" "I think we should be moving to the second floor or something...aren't we supposed to?" "So where do we go?" "Well, isn't it supposed to get darker earlier this time of year?" (Pitch black. In August. At 6 pm. In Minnesota.)

[Me]: What's going on up there?

[HDD]: It got really dark all of a sudden. There's been warnings and stuff all day.

[Me]: You know, if you have to suddenly leave, that's okay....

[HDD]: Nah, there's just been warnings.

[Me]: Well, really, if you have to go...you can go.

[HDD]: [More clickity-clack.] I think I'm going to stop this program and try reinstalling the other [RIP].

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

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