HOLY SHIT, WHERE'S THE TYLENOL?!

In the heartless, greedy spirit of Ebenezer Scrooge and Frank Shirley, I have just learned that our boss has decided that the scheduled two weeks off at Christmas will be unpaid. That's right, you read it right, he's decided to not just take away our never-existent Christmas bonuses this year, he's decided to withhold our salary and not pay us anything at all. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night! To think, I bought a Christmas CD at lunch, feeling almost guilty about being so in the spirit so long before Christmas. An hour later, I would experience the polar opposite of this whistle-while-you-work optimism and cheeriness as I heard I would need to find another means by which to pay my Christmas rent and bills. This was an inspiration not to sing carols and spread good cheer--no, this was the inspiration to piss on Scrooge's desk and punch him in his smug, insufferable beak. Luckily, there are blogs.

Although...if any of you are actually looking for any last minute gifts for me as my hero Clark W. Griswold details in the clip above, I do have the prick's address (wink).

It's only Thursday? Seriously?

It really feels like it should be Saturday already. I swear they snuck a day in on me somewhere. As such, my motivation to work has descended into negative integers. Note my defiant blogging at work. And I don't even have anything interesting to say! Woooooooooo!

Feels more like a Disneyland day than a work day. Except for the fact that's 90 friggin' degrees outside. In October.

Had my show on Monday night. Thanks to the two of you who showed up! Hahahaha...Seriously though, I'll get over it in a couple years.

I think it went pretty well. I think we, as a class, really stepped up, especially considering how far we had come in eight weeks of class. I am sure of one thing regardless--I had a great time doing it. It was an incredible feeling to be up on the stage, looking out into the lights, seeing nothing yet knowing the people are there, staring back at you expectantly. I was fairly nervous before the show, but it was a really good nervous, more anxious than anything else. Nothing like what I have felt before softball games where my stomach feels like it's about to revolt. In this case, I felt much more confident, the fearful mantra "please don't hit it to me" never once entering my mind. And then to be out there and feel that sense of highwire danger, that a lean one way or the other could have me plummeting to death by humiliation...and yet to be okay with that potential failure made me more confident that I would do just fine. I'm not gonna lie, it was a great feeling--call it a spiritual flutter--to be out there with no idea what I was going to say until I heard myself say it and then to hear people laugh...really, truly exciting.

Also, it was weird how it really wasn't until the show itself, I think, that we really bonded as a class/team. I would have guessed that with a class like this with such feelings of vulnerability running throughout we would have bonded much earlier, like people in a hostage situation or something. But after class we said our cordial goodbyes and scattered. After the show though we were ready to go drinking together. I can think of a lot of explanations for it, but who cares at this point. I was just happy to see it.

Alright, duty calls. Grrrrrrr....

Terry Tate Returns!!

Throwing Down The Gauntlet

Every Friday, I eat lunch at this place in El Segundo called The Richmond. Love it. I've often how thought how it reminds me of one of the greatest places in the world, Joe Jost's in Long Beach. Well apparently The Richmond is well aware of Joe Jost's and their famous pickled eggs because as you can see on the Specials Board today, they are claiming to be better than the reigning champ. Who's ready for an Egg-off?

Still Kickin'

Wow, it's been a while. And to leave off with such a downer no less. The problem is, in the good ol' days, I would blog at work. My current situation doesn't really allow me to do this as I am out in the open with my monitor on display for all to see. Still, I don't want to leave that long, downer of a post up there at the top any longer so here's a short anecdote from my visit to the Whole Foods this morning. Have a splendid weekend!

So I stop at the Whole Foods because I need cash for lunch today. I figure I'll pick up an issue of "The Atlantic Monthly," pay with debit and get cash back. I'm considering subscribing to the magazine so it was to work out perfectly. Except they did not have "The Atlantic" on this fine morning and I have no need for "Yoga Magazine" or "Martha Stewart Living." I wasted the next ten minutes frantically wandering around, searching for something--anything--that I really needed. Gum? Nope, used that one last Friday. I had decided on a cookie until I saw that it was three whole doll-hairs. Three fucking dollars for a single cookie? I won't pay it. Finally, I settled on a lemon. I'll cut it and squeeze it into my water today, I thought. Great. Get to the checkout, cashier rings it up at 99 cents. The dreadlocked guy behind me chimed in with what I was thinking.

"A dollar for one lemon? I could have sold you one for a quarter," he said.

The cashier quipped, "Is it organic though?"

"I grew it myself. Yeah, it's organic."