First, for those of you having trouble reading the site, try the old click-and-drag method! Click on anything, and then drag downward and see if the rest of my entry comes in sight (some browsers, or whatever, refuse to enable the scrollbar in any capacity). Sweet fancy Moses, I don't want to have to redo the code altogether, but I will if no one can read this shit. Let me know what you're coming up against, people, I beg of you!!!
All right. My perceptions may be colored a bit by the bottle of wine I have imbibed, but probably only a little, since it�s been a while, and I have also had some water and shit besides. To sum up, however, today was quite�well, fucked up.
To begin with, I had to vote. And let me just say, it�s no wonder why our government is so screwed up, when the process by which we empower our leaders is, to borrow a phrase from Heather, such a total clusterfuck. I have to confess that these tears rolling down my cheeks, a product of the immense sorrow I�m feeling after bearing witness to the latest poll of the results in this, the most jacked-up of Californian gubernatorial elections ever, are pretty much 90% sauvignon blanc, and only about 10% saline, but still. I don�t really want to contemplate a future in which a man who plays make-believe for a living is now in charge of enacting statewide policies and enforcing the law -- then again, we already lived through Reagan, right?
I�m not trying to turn my diary into a political platform again, I swear it, but Arnold Schwarzenegger? Or is it Schwartzenegger? I don�t fucking know. The man is probably the governor of my state by this time, and I can�t even spell his stupid, Austrian name. Not that there�s anything wrong with Austria or whatever, because I�m reasonably certain I have relatives from there (or at least that general region) (by which I mean, Europe), but I was always kind of hoping this day would never come. And by �this day�, I do mean The Day That The Governor Was Recalled So Arnold Fucking Schwar(t)zenegger Could Take Office And Run Everything Into The Ground, Because He Knows Dick About Politics, Although, In All Fairness, If Jesse �The Body� Whoever Can Do It, Why Not Ahh-Nold?
Whatever. Me and the sauvignon are still pretending this is all a big lie, perpetrated by the evil masterminds at Sesame Street, and it�s going to turn out that Arnold is actually a huge, animatronic puppet, and this was all a big joke! Ha! Ha Ha! Sigh. Anyway, I had to get up early and vote this morning, after watching Mulholland Drive last night until about 3:00am, which fucked me up and scared me pantsless, and then I had to go and vote at this Baptist church, which apparently really didn�t want my input, as there were about zero signs out to indicate where I supposed to actually go in order to cast said vote, but I figured it out eventually and sent those chads screaming to their mamas. I vote with a vengeance, y�all. No �hanging� chads over here.
Anyway, after spending ten minutes waiting while the woman in front of me showed the volunteer running the registry how to work the alphabet (no, seriously, �Okay, my last name is �Holden�. That�s under �H�. No��H�. No, that�s after �A�. No, further after �A�. Like, seven letters after �A�. Here, let me show you�oh, fuck this shit, it�s right here, you myopic son of a bitch! Give me the motherfucking pen!�), I cast my vote, and headed to work�whereupon I found that today is apparently marked by some serious cosmic shit in regard to jobs, like Mercury is in retrograde or Jupiter�s aligned with Mars, or some fucking helicopter is circling back and forth over our apartment building at 1:30 in the morning, like, SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU ASSHOLE!!!
Anyway, the Cute Receptionist has been released from his duties at Arts-Friendly Non- Profit (which is a really friendly way of saying �got fired�). It�s a story about which I�ll share more on a date when I�m not fuming about the dispiriting affairs of our state government or, say, a helicopter circling back and forth over our apartment complex at 1:30 in the morning, sounding like a burned-out backhoe, but he is �no longer with� the company, whatever that means. My reaction is mixed, to say the least. More later.
Today was a bad day for jobs, it would seem, though, as I discovered upon returning home that poor May Day has suffered a setback in that department as well. It�s really her story to tell, and I�ll let her tell it, but it is the reason there was much partaking of wine this evening. I mean, what the fuck is up with her piece of shit, Mickey Mouse office, anyway?? Whatever -- I�m going to let her share the details, because it is her story, but in the meantime, fuck jobs! Here�s to better ones for everyone.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: I�M SO SICK OF THIS SHIT And: define finger I�m Watching: A whole lot of shit, like Queer Eye For That Dude and A Few Guys Who Work in the Marines With Tom Cruise or Whatever, but I�m going to bed soon. I�m Craving: Coffee. There�s even a backstory to this, but I�m jonesing for the sweet caffeine right now. In a bad way.