A lot of crazy shit can happen in a year. People quit jobs, people get new ones, people go on vacations, people go off the deep end�all these things and more have happened to me over the past year. Another thing that happened over the past year? Memoirs of an Evil Genius got 365 days older.
Yes, my friends, it's been a scant two years since the ribbon was cut on this old site of mine. It�s funny, because it doesn�t feel quite the same as a regular birthday. Somehow, to chart my life in terms of years seems a fairly reasonable thing, but to celebrate my diary in terms of the same seems odd. Frankly, the fact that it feels odd is odd, because it�s kind of like an almanac, recording the cycles of my existence. In that respect it�s fascinating, which is part of why, for the past year, I�ve included that A Year Ago, I Said section at the bottom of my entries.
Anyway, in my diary�s sophomore year, I believe I learned a lot about me, my life, and the living of it. Herein I chronicled many a crazy day, crazy night, and crazy person. There was good news and bad, happy times and sad, fun and�something else that rhymes with �bad�. Numerous interesting experiences were detailed here, as well as, let�s be honest, some boring ones (sue me�we can�t all be Baron Munchausen, you know?) It was a year that was, and underneath, please find a few interesting statistics.
I�m sorry. Sidebar: I just got a call from Carla. Remember Carla? From Arts-Friendly? Apparently, my replacement Marcy just got shitcanned, and Carla about at the end of her rope (her rope is apparently about six months long) with all the shit Sophie keeps tossing at her. I know I shouldn�t, but I just keep�smiling, when I think of how that all doesn�t affect me in the least anymore. Ha ha! Suck it, Arts-Friendly.
Number of Entries: 413 (not including this one)
Number of Entries That Mention Rachael Ray: 12
Number of Entries That Mention My Brother: 17 (seems low)
Number of Entries That Mention Sophie: 88 (sounds about right)
Number of Notes I�ve Received: 1 (still)
Most Popular Google Searches involved Rachael Ray, Yoanna House, nude American Idol contestants (again, some more), and, strangely, clowns.
My Favorite Google Search of All Time, Resulting in a Hit on My Site: mom�s anal adventure / stupid members only jacket (tie)
Most Popular Entry: Seeing Stars (still)
Biggest Leap From Obscurity to Top Ten: Alone Again, Naturally
My Favorite Entry Title From the Last Year: Break-In 2: Electric Burgle-oo
And now, a sampling of quotes from a year�s worth of entries.Sally, who still hasn�t replied to e-mails I sent her in June. Sally, who, when she does respond, averages about a week to do so. Sally, who couldn�t find her own ass with the aid of both hands, a compass, a Sherpa, two bloodhounds, a troop of boy scouts, a flare gun, a telescope, a team of forensic scientists, and Sacajawea leading the way.
�Praise the Lord, Nobody�s Home��
I mean, sure, today it�s just a zebra fish enhanced with chromosomes pirated from sea anemone in order to make them fluoresce in black light, but tomorrow it�s going to be a winged, vampiric horse with arms, trying to steal your babies and make off into the night to join the Dark Prince atop Mount Vesuvius for a ritual homicide! I�m sorry, but not in my neighborhood!
Hell No, We Won�t Glow!
Okay, I didn�t say that last part, because that would�ve been creepy. Especially at Christamastime. But I did say the first thing, and then I did the In Your Face, Whore Christmas Tree From Hell dance.
Oh, Christmas Tree
To the man in the tie: Shut up. If you want to do something on your lunch hour that moves really, really fast, join a bobsled team. Seeing as how you obviously drove here (what with making sure we all see that you own a Mercedes), I deduce that you�ve been to the DMV, and therefore should understand about how government facilities operate. Making snotty comments at the top of your lungs about how long it�s taking, how ridiculous it is that more windows aren�t open, and how "disgraceful" it is that the postal workers don�t seem to care about you personally (because you�re so special) will only serve to make me bust you in the chops.
Going Postal
So, as my bank account dwindles like a tubercular maiden in some kind of period melodrama, and my workload expands to fill the void, my stress levels have found themselves at heights so great they�ve actually complained to me of dizziness and nosebleeds. And of course this is barely scratching the surface; currently, my subconscious is like a geologic hot zone of anxiety, each stressor threatening to cause an eruption of hot, molten freakout to come blasting out of me at any moment.
Sword Dance
Everything she said about the recipe was positively soaked in gourmet superiority, like, "Of course we�re using ground TOP SIRLOIN, although the RECIPE only calls for ground �chuck�," and the way she said 'chuck�, you�d think it meant �children�.
Sloppy Joe
So it seems I was slightly mistaken, and the Wicked Witches of the East (Coast) won�t be arriving until this afternoon. Which is actually perfect, since it possibly gives me enough time to quell the murderous rage I have towards Anna at this moment. Were she to walk into my office at this time, one of us would be led out in handcuffs, the other carried out in about five duffel bags from the coroner�s office. In that fantasy, I like to think of myself as the one in handcuffs.
The Hate
Not to belabor the point, but Anna is a complete idiot.
Eat, Drink, and Be Quick About It
I�m not clear on who her replacement is going to be -- or, in keeping with the alarming tradition of this company, should I say, "if she will have a replacement" -- but even if it�s Darth Vader, or a fucking sock puppet of King Lear, he couldn�t possibly screw up any worse than Anna.
Back-Up Plan
She always has to trump her guest, or host, if not by proving her superiority in that one area of special concern than by not letting them forget that the show isn�t called "Emily Brown Living" or "Cooking with Katie Couric" or whatever. You always feel like everyone�s about two baby steps away from getting their head stuffed with figs and baked into a deadly fruit compote if they don�t watch it.
Martha Stewart Living (in the Bighouse)
Over on the other side of the�whatever, swimming has really become the event that Bob Costas won�t shut the hell up about already. Not that I mind a whole lot, because I really do like the swimming and all. Sadly, it�s about the only time lately I get to shout "STROKE FASTER!" at a half-naked man these days.
Dance: 3, Looks: 10
Actually, I feel quite stymied on numerous fronts today�it would seem that the overwhelming notion of my looming freedom from this company is really beginning to take root in my subconscious. It�s odd and a little scary to think of a great big world out there that isn�t 80% full of Arts-Friendly, and Arts-Friendly related aggravation. I don�t know what I�ll do with myself.
Countdown to Goodbye
The other thing that�s difficult about watching this show, though, is when they use their powers for evil. Like when they pick up skanky chicks, or flirt their way in and out of clubs or parking tickets, or refer to themselves in the third person. No one should refer to themselves in the third person unless they�re wearing either a powdered wig or a live animal.
A Few Good-Looking Men
The worst part is that she�ll frame these pictures and give them to me as gifts, so I feel like an asshole if I make any kind of comment like, �Gee, thanks, Tori! I love how my shirt in this photo really brings out the veins in my neck.�
Worst Face Scenario
Anyway, that�s another year down. Wonder what this next one will bring�
Someone Got Here By Searching For: Capucine nude I�m Watching: The O.C. and still hating Marissa. And: Not The Apprentice, because I forgot to tape it, which is a shame, because I really wanted to see Maria get fired.