Steve Jobs rocks my ass.
Q: What's an Intel chip doing in a Mac?A: A whole lot more than it's ever done in a PC.
My Children of the Corn
My kids behaved terribly this evening. Out of a class of sixteen, only ten were actually present, but they might as well have been forty rabid monkeys. The guy who normally teaches with me was not able to be there tonight, which generally would not have been a problem, except that the children had all consumed massive quantities of cocaine before class. There was not a single moment all night in which the class was actually in any semblance of order. We made it through only one out of the five readings that were scheduled on the lesson plan, and while that is generally of no concern to me, it made the evening go painfully slowly. At one point, Dylan, my most obnoxiously disobedient little monkey, hid behind a shelf when my back was turned and had the entire class giggling hysterically because I was not aware of this. (What ...continue reading.
As Paul would say, “Dance, monkey, dance.”
When I was little, I would cut out every Washington Post Magazine's Sunday restaurant review, written by my hero Phyllis Richman, and save them in a folder (while all the other kids my age were out making friends and being normal). When my family and I would go to restaurants, I'd mentally write my own reviews of the food (The French fries, while deep-fried to crisp perfection, were slightly over-salted, burying the true delicate flavor of the potato.). Okay, so I was a big fat loser. Some things never change. I am still a huge dork, and I still love the dining guide, which is now written by the restaurant-savvy genius Tom Sietsema. The point is that I have come to expect certain things when I go out for meals, which include decent-quality food and a few basic expectations regarding the performance of the waitstaff. For example, don't bring the ...continue reading.
I was starting to like being a schlub.
I have found a job through TRAK Legal Placement Services (the organization where I interviewed yesterday). Beginning next Tuesday morning at 10am, I will be the legal assistant to Mr. Nicholas H. at H. & R. in Vienna. I will work 30-32 hours a week, based around my school schedule, for a wage that I did not think was possible to earn while fully clothed. Mr. H. also has no problem with me potentially leaving for law school in August. There has got to be a catch.But for now, my only regret is that I did not find a job herding sheep in Wyoming. Shit. Better luck next time.
A Tribute to The Passing of Independence Air
[How do I know this occurred? Because I actually read the news.]
Dearest Beloved:
Since you seem to be yearning for a much vaunted mention on my blog, I'll give you this opportunity to shine. All you have to do in return is prove to me that you actually read this on a semi-regular basis, and therefore deserve acknowledgement, by telling me that you saw this by no later than the stroke of noon on Saturday. That gives you almost exactly thirty-six hours, which to me seems quite reasonable. I'll reward you handsomely if you succeed.On the other hand, if you neglect to read this diatribe of my innermost thoughts by that time, I will personally ensure that the dog has nothing but turkey pepperoni and salsa for dinner on Saturday night, and that he snuggles into your pillow at bedtime.