What I really learned in grad school

If I were to write a nice little essay about the importance of the four p's of marketing or time value of money, no one would read this. Besides, I'd have to go back into my notes and look that shit up again. I don't fucking remember shit. But here it is, as promised, the whole ugly truth about grad school.

1. Online degrees are not real degrees.

This might be somewhat controversial because I know a lot of people who will say that as long as you're learning something, you are getting an education. This is true. However, you are not getting the benefit of the full experience. By the time you finish reading this blog, I hope you understand why. There are so many things that you will miss out when not in a classroom atmosphere. These things can only be learned by the human experience and not by books. Trust me.

2. Q: What do high level human resources professionals have in common with tampons?

A: They're both stuck up cunts.

You'll find that most HR people really aren't people people. In fact, most of them are clueless that there are other human beings on the planet and are incapable of having actual friendly relationships. They're snobby and claim to have no recollection of many people that they have encountered.

Case in point 1 - a woman I met who works for a large pharmaceutical company. I know several people who work for said company, who also happen to be in our program. I asked if she knew any of them, knowing full well that she had a class with at least one of them. She had no clue. She just shrugged her shoulders and told me that XYZ drug company was a very large company. How was she to remember people?

Um, it's your job, you stupid bitch.

Case in point 2 - a former friend from high school who ran into one of my best friends. Ok, this example has nothing to do with grad school, but it proves my point. My friend Sherri happened to run into another woman from high school who now happens to work in the HR department where Sherri's mom works. When Sherri mentioned that she knew this particular HR person from high school, the HR person said that she didn't remember Sherri because she had only gone to our school for four years.

Ok. First, there were only slightly over 100 people in my graduating class. It's not like it was a big school. They hung out on a few occasions and had mutual friends. I even have video of them dancing in the same circle at the prom. Second, she was there for four fucking years, not four fucking months! And high school, while maybe not the best time in many people's lives, is definitely one of the most memorable. I'm sure if she thought long and hard about it, it would come to her.

Did you know that Oscar Schindler more or less created his infamous list off the top of his head? Thank god these fucking bitches aren't in a position to save us from genocide. But what is scary is that we put our fates in their hands by putting them in charge of our livelihoods.

3. Every group has at least one slacker and one Nazi.

In grad school, nearly every class you take will involve some sort of group project. In these groups, there is always one control freak who wants to do everything and will not delegate. This suits the slacker of the group just fine. The rest of the group fears and loathes both of these people. At some point, the Nazi breaks and the rest of the group finds themselves scrambling to pick up the pieces, except for the slacker who will probably try to plagiarize their portion of the assignment. This would put the rest of the group in jeopardy for not adhering to various academic honesty problems. So again, they scramble to redo everything the slacker did. And of course, no one cares that the slacker tried to pull this shit because by the time you turn in the paper, you've changed it and done nothing wrong. Professors and other students don't want to make waves. And this is sad because the slacker will go through life repeating this behavior because they can get away with it. And the Nazi will always just control everything.

And while we're on the topic of group work...

4. People are clueless when it comes to passive voice.

Hasn't anyone ever taken an English class before?

5. Grad school will show you who your real friends are.

You're simply not going to have time and energy for everyone and everything. The high maintenance people in your life are not going to be so understanding. And if they are "all or nothing" kind of people, you will lose them. But it's ok. If they're so self-centered that they can't appreciate and support you, they're not friends. They're leaches. Let them go. And appreciate the people who will meet you for dinner at 9:30 pm after class because that's the only time you have free. Appreciate the one who drops everything and leaves work immediately to help you when you get a flat tire on your way to a major presentation. They're true. And you're so lucky to have them.

6. No matter how good the market is, it's a major mistake to buy a new house at the beginning of your program.

You'll never get to enjoy it and it will only distract you. Soft cushy furniture will keep you from getting off your ass and sit in front of the computer. Your craft room will beg to be used. And that pool table? You'll end up forgetting you even own it.

7. The personal crisis is inevitable.

This will hit you about mid way through your program. You will have a total breakdown and engage in destructive behavior. For me, I drank heavily. I started a Thursday night drinking club during the Fall of 2005. In fact, I think I drank just about every night during that semester. I didn't care about anything that was normally important to me. I was difficult to be around. And I cried a lot.

It was stress. Or maybe it was a case of the 29's. At any rate, I never want to go back there.

Ironically, that was my best semester as far as grades go.

And along the same lines...

8. Grad school will age you.

I've found several gray hairs in the last two years. The bags under my eyes are more prominent due to the lack of sleep and insomnia I've experienced. I've gained way too much weight, being an emotional eater and all. I look like hell.

9. Networking Shmetworking

Most likely the people you meet in grad school will be tools. Aside of not knowing anything about passive voice, they will come from very different places. However, they will all fall right into the given stereotypes and preconceived notions that you have about them. For example, people who work for big drug companies are some of the most paranoid freaks you will ever meet. People who went to private colleges for undergrad are clueless as to how to live their lives away from mommy and daddy's money.

My favorite example of this was during my ethics class. We discussed if we thought it was ok for companies to pull credit reports upon hiring a new employee. After one guy made the point that looking at a person's credit report will give an employer a feel for the employee's sense of responsibility and commitment (i.e. they want to do a good job so that they have the money to pay their bills), another girl raised her hand. She said, "But when I was in college, I had a problem buying shoes. I spent a lot of money on shoes and then when the bill came, I couldn't pay it. I don't think that I should be denied a job just because I like shoes."

In another class, a woman who grew up on Philly's main line told the story of how her fiance had to sit her down and explain to her that he can't afford the lifestyle she was accustomed to.

That poor guy.

I can honestly say that out of all of my classes, I've met exactly one person who I intend to remain friends with. I'm sort of relieved to be away from all of those twat waffles.

10. www.ratemyprofessors.com is your friend.

If a professor is not listed on here, it's really a crap shoot. If the professor you expect to have is replaced by an adjunct that no one has ever heard of, run fast and run far. If you have to take this class next semester and delay graduating, it will be worth it. If you have to take an extra class to avoid having to pay back your deferred student loans, it's worth it. This is especially true if the professor is in the midst of getting his PhD, hasn't had a real job in years and when he did have a real job was in upper management for many years. This guy does not know how to explain details. He will expect the world from you and tell you nothing. You will never live up to this guy's expectations and he will take the stresses of his own program out on you.

11. As soon as you're finished, you will want to do everything you've put off all at once.

After your last class, you'll expect to have some sort of weight removed from you shoulders, but truth be told, it will only be heavier. You'll realize that there is a lot of shit to do that has been waiting to be done. You'll have to call that friend you've blown off because of your final. You'll have to make that CD for the CD exchange you signed up for. You'll have to write that letter to your 89 year old Aunt La Rue. She's been waiting to hear from you for months. You'll want to watch all of those movies you received as gifts for the last two years. You'll actually want to clean your house and play a million games of pool.

And if you look below, I've started reading for fun again. And that's all I really want to do. As a matter of fact, I think I'll do that right now. Toodles!

This could be the last time. This could be the last time. Maybe the last time, I don't know.

It's time now for my regular bitching about the work I have to do for school. Don't feel compelled to read this. It's just me being burned out and bitchy. You know. Me.

Unless I fail, that is.

Remember when I wrote my entire honors thesis in the week after it was due (and still pulled off an A- somehow)?

Yeah, it's kind of like that.

I'm responsible for a quarter of a 45 page business plan due on Tuesday. I'm yet to write a single word. I've done some research on the web, looked at the instructions for my part and, of course, I have absolutely no motivation to type a blessed thing. I had all the motivation in the world prior to Thanksgiving. Writing this paper and presenting it are the very last things I have to do for this class and aside of studying for a finance final, the very last school work I will ever have to do ever.

But then I caught the flu. And then I turned the page in my calendar and realized that the month of December is going to be unbelievably busy for me. I have something like seven Christmas parties to attend. I have a lot of meetings for work that will require a lot of driving. I have to clean. I have to put my tree up. You would think that I would want this paper finished.

At least I'm 99% finished with my Christmas shopping.

The problem is, this paper is so fucking boring. It's a business analysis and plan to market cricket shoes in China. And I mean the sport, here. Not eensy weensy shoes for bugs. Although, that would probably be more interesting.

Someday, when all of this is through, I'm going to write about what I REALLY learned in grad school. I assure you it will have little to do with Nike's market share in India. I don't intend to retain that.

Look for that post in a few short weeks.

Why didn't anyone tell me Jack Palance died??!?!?!

Did you think I couldn't handle it?!?!? Were you afraid I'd tell that story again about how I sold him the riding lawn mower when I worked at Wal Mart? Why? Why? Why?



RIP, you miserable old fart.

PS Saw Borat last night. It was really freakin' funny. I've seen Da Ali G Show, so I know a lot of it is based on getting real reactions from real people, but I can't help but wonder what parts were really staged and how much "Hollywood magic" went into the editing. I don't want to spoil anything for anyone who hasn't seen it, so I'm just going to leave it at that.

Paul drove a security guard over the edge on Friday night.

We went to see Paul Stanley at the House of Blues in Atlantic City. Maybe he was a little stressed from the drive there. It was raining and traffic was a nightmare. Even more frustrating, we hit a bit of a jam right at the parking lot entrance. We were so close and so late. We weren't sure if there was an opening act or not and I'm sure Paul was worried about missing "Hide Your Heart" which according to Stanley's never changing set list, would be the second song after the title track to his new CD, "Live to Win."

But we were semi-lucky. We only missed the first few songs from the opening act, Slunt (Brilliant name! Brilliant!). They were by far the best opening act that I've seen in a long time, although Deadsy is very close. The band consists of a few ugly guys and two hot chicks, a bass player and a lead singer who also happens to be the wife of everyone in PA's old buddy from Fuel, Brett Scallions. They rocked.

There was a brief intermission. We sat in the balcony and I noticed a man hobbling to the front row of the balcony alone. Another freak show sat in the empty seat next to me. I looked around and saw a lot of geeky men who probably haven't left their parents' basements since the first Kiss farewell tour several years ago. There were also a few parents with their kids in tow sitting behind us. Strange strange bunch.

Paul gestured towards the hobbler, "That guy is going to cause our entire section to have to stand for the whole show."

I only wish Paul was that good at picking lottery numbers.

Stanley came out looking mighty fine for a man in his 50's, as effeminate as he is. He was wearing a black shirt and tight jeans. I'm not much for asses, but well, damn. He started with the usual aforementioned garbage and pretty much played the same set that he has been playing all tour. I did not want to stand up and encourage him to continue to play "Hide Your Heart" as I am no longer a thirteen year old girl. I noticed most of the others in my section were trying to sit, too.

Unfortunately, the hobbling jack ass was not. The freak show next to me walked down and asked him to sit. Surely, he could see just as well from his seat since no one was in front of him. The hobbler became belligerent. Several others asked him to sit, too. He pretty much told them to all fuck off too. He started hamming it up at this point, raising both hands and wildly gesturing. Now, he was just being an asshole to annoy us.

The waitress tried. She was denied. Then security came. The man pointed around to others who were standing. He moved over while the guard left, but as soon as he was gone, he moved back right in front of everyone. Several people left to get the guard. He eventually came back, talked to him, yet the man would not sit the fuck down.

So Paul stopped the guard as he was walking past us. "If I go down and punch that guy in the balls, will I get kicked out?" he asked. That was so unlike Paul. Maybe I'm just wearing off on him. The guard walked down again, but was still unsuccessful at getting the guy to sit. The people a row or two behind the hobbler spoke with him and got up to leave. One of them said something to me about getting moved to another section.

I yelled at the guard, "Excuse me! If you're moving them, then you're moving all of us because we can't see either. You better be ready to fucking do it. But I suggest that for that guy's safety, you move him instead because I'm going to go down there and punch him in the balls myself."

I heard yelling from behind me "I have little kids here!"

I said, "Yeah, those kids can't see." I later wondered if the guy was actually yelling at me for using foul language. I sure as hell hope not. I mean, what kind of father of the year takes his eight year old to see Paul Stanley?

The guard got on his radio, "I need back up. There's going to be a riot here pretty soon over this one guy." Back up came, they moved him. The rest of us could finally relax and enjoy the show.

Aside of that, the show was much better than I expected. Paul and I listened to Stanley's new CD on the way there and I'm less than impressed. It sounds like something Loverboy would put out, but with vocals that are even worse. But his voice sounded fantastic live, hitting notes higher than what I expected. He played stuff from his solo album with Kiss also and some regular old war horse Kiss songs as well, like "Detroit Rock City." The band backing him up was the house band from that Rockstar TV show. The guitarist was fantastic. He closed with "Goodbye" from the first solo album. I loved it.

We left and gambled a little. We more or less broke even. Then we almost fell asleep on the way home.

Yesterday was my nephew's first birthday party. He's my little buddy. I doubt I'd ever have a kid as cute and as good as him. We left there and went out for Halloween in a bar in Hazleton with my friends from high school. I really miss hanging out with them and I had such a good time. I went as Little Red Riding Hood and Paul was the Big Bad Wolf dressed like Grandma. He won a t-shirt for his costume, which was pretty good.

And ain't there one damn song that can make me break down and cry?

So yesterday, I went to the eye doctor for training for my contacts. I fucking hate my glasses and always have. I've worn them since I was two and my eyes are really weird. I'm extremely far sighted with astigmatism. I had contacts years ago, but they were gas perm. Owie!

I had no problem with the lenses once they were in. I had a hell of a time taking them out. Putting them back in? Not so bad. They were much more comfortable than the gas perm ones. They have me on a schedule to wear them that gradually increases as the week goes on.

Today? Big fucking problem. I couldn't get them in. They wouldn't stick to my eyeball. My eyelids are so tight, I can't open my eyes far enough to get them in reasonably.

I spent most of my lunch hour trying to get them in and failed miserably. I also spent another hour after work. No dice.

To make things even more complicated, I have a lot going on these next few days - a concert tomorrow night, my nephew's birthday party Saturday and a night out for Halloween Saturday night. On Monday, I'm leaving for North Carolina for a few days. My dick professor has given me an additional assignment for missing class, not to mention all the stuff I have to get done at work before I leave. I'm stressed to the point where I'm not sleeping and only eating when I remember that I have to. My mind is all over the place.

So I called the doctor. I was almost in tears. I told him I couldn't get them in. He said, "Chris, don't worry about it. You got them to enjoy yourself. Not make yourself crazy." I asked if I could postpone my schedule until I get back and he said to just call the Monday after I got back.

I hung up the phone and lost it. I just started sobbing and sobbing. I hate giving up on anything. I hate letting stress get the best of me like this. This isn't me. I can push through. I can do anything. This is just a fucking inconvenience and really bad time.

But now my eyes are too sore from crying. And that really nice bottle of Charles Krug Pinot Noir that has been begging for me to drink it since last Christmas is open.

Remember how I was handling my stress this time last year? I was a lush! See what I mean about quitting? It never resolves anything.

Music and Passion...Social D, Barry Manilow and Frank Black all in one blog

I've been so lazy lately.

Like right now. I've been cleaning on and off all day. I just have an all around lack of motivation to do anything. Really, I just want to dream and daydream. But instead, I'll update you on what's been going on here.

This week was fall break. I've been anxiously awaiting grade postings for my finance midterm and my capstone presentation. I have no clue where I stand right now with either of them. I'm shooting for the magna cum laude GPA which means I have to pull at least an A- average for the semester. Of course, there's another part of me that really doesn't give a shit and knows that as long as I pull C's in these two classes I'll still be an MBA.

Two weeks ago, Paul and I went to see Social Distortion with Blackpool Lights and Lost City Angels at the House of Blues in Atlantic City. That was fun. If you really want more details, Paul's blog does just as much justice as I ever could.

Last Saturday night, we stayed in Atlantic City at Bally's and went to see Barry Manilow. You're welcome to laugh at me all you want about this. I fucking love Barry Manilow. So did my mother before she passed away (Still laughing mother fucker? Yeah, I didn't think so). When I was a little kid and I was acting up or crying in the car, my mother would play Barry Manilow to get me to calm down. She claimed that after a while I started asking for it and that Manilow was my first real word after all that Mama Dadda bullshit.

On the way to the show, we decided to stop at Tower Records since they are liquidating everything. I'd be willing to bet I'm the first person to ever buy an Agent Orange CD on the way to a Barry Manilow concert. We got to AC, went through a nightmare to park and were anally raped to park in the Claridge's garage (angry letter to Claridge, Bally's and the AC Chamber of Commerce is pending once my lazy streak has passed). We skipped dinner and downed a bottle of champagne instead. Then we headed off to the show just a bit tipsy.

We got there and grabbed a few Heiney's to keep the buzz going. Barry came out in a wheelchair, this being his first show since his hip surgery (stop your laughing. I'm warning you), but got up and danced with his background bimbos. He was great. He started with "It's a Miracle" and then moved into songs from the 40's and 50's. He sang "Moonlight Serenade" and pulled some lady with a striking resemblance to Janet Reno on stage with him while looking her in the eye and singing to her. It was somewhat disturbing.

There was a brief intermission. Someone came around and handed out glow sticks. The whole audience had them by the time he came out for the second set which was all songs from the 60's and 70's. He mimicked smoking a joint before going into "Yesterday" and then finished with his big songs from the 70's including "Weekend in New England," which made me tear up thinking about my mom a little and of course "Copacabana." All in all I loved it. Paul and I stopped at Johnny Rockets on the way back to Bally's and played some nickel slots at Wild Wild West. Then I stayed up way too late watching Jersey Girl on TV. On the way home the next day, we stopped on South Street for a look through the Tower Records there. I'm probably the first person to buy a New York Dolls CD on the way home from a Barry Manilow concert. We had cheesesteaks and then came home and took naps.

This was all to celebrate our fourth anniversary, which was actually on Thursday. Thursday was not a bad day, either. Paul surprised me with a basket of daisies at the office and later we headed to the World Cafe in Philly to see Frank Black, a man I consider to be a god.

Frank had The Reid Paley trio open, which was really a duo - Reid with his guitar and a stand up bass player. They were great. They did a rendition of "I'm Not Dead (I'm in Pittsburgh)" since he wrote most of it. This had me a bit worried that Frank would not do it. Luckily, my fears were unfounded.

The last time I saw Frank was when he opened for the Foo Fighters back in August. This time was completely different. Last time, Frank did not address the audience at all. This time, he told stories and made jokes. He started the show with a few acoustic songs (some of them Pixies songs), which he hadn't been doing on this tour until a few shows ago. I think it's brilliant. It gets them out of the way so that people aren't yelling "Wave of Mutilation" during the whole show.

In case you care, here is the set list: (solo) Los Angeles, Cactus, Where is My Mind, Water Song, California Bound, Wave of Mutilation, I Gotta Move (referencing David Lynch and Eraserhead with a Philly connection), Brackish Boy, (with the band) Nadine, Ten Percenter, Horrible Day, Living On Soul, All My Ghosts, My Terrible Ways, Bullet, I Burn Today, I'm Not Dead (I'm in Pittsburgh), Do What you Want Gyeneshwar, Raider Man, Suffering, Mr. Grieves, That Burn Out Rock and Roll, All Around the World, Johnny Barelycorn, Six Sixty Six, Dead Man's Curve, I'll Be There and Sing For Joy.

The World Cafe is hands down the nicest venue to see a show in Philly. There is an upstairs lounge that serves food and has a stage and then the downstairs area that has the major acts. We had mezzanine seating right over the balcony. It was nice to sit and relax and not have to worry about being pushed or have someone really tall stand in front of us blocking our view. They also serve micro brewed beer. I had a Magic Hat #9, which I haven't had in a long time. Of course, this proved to be a problem as I forgot that #9 gets me drunk quickly for about 10 minutes and then goes right through me like a Betsy Wetsy doll. My only complaint about the World Cafe is that the bathrooms are kind of a pain in the ass to get to. This proved to be problematic as the #9 kicked in during "Bullet" (my favorite Frank Black song). The next few songs were also ones that I had been waiting to hear, especially Gyeneshwar as it's rumored it will be on a new Pixies album to come out next year some time. By the time he got to "Suffering," I couldn't take it anymore and thought I was going to pee my pants. I came back just in time for "Mr. Grieves" which seemed to be an impromptu thing. When I walked back in from the bathroom it was very quiet. He played it without the band. I would have been really mad if I would have missed that. "Sing For Joy" was his encore, although he never really left the stage.

Well, that's enough of my rambling for today. I better go finish my chores. Until next time, kids.

Things heard at the bar last night

"Be the Buddha and shut the fuck up."

"What you probably don't know about me is that I'm Schuylkill County's foremost expert on Winston Churchill."

"Call Jimmy and tell him if I can't have him, no one else will."

"If you were my husband, I'd poison your coffee." "Nancy, if I was your husband I'd drink that coffee."

"I can't wait to be a dirty old man."

"My Mexican friends think you're cute. I told them you're married." (pause) "And that I was bangin' ya for a while." (another pause) "They didn't believe me."

"You're such an alcoholic."

"Could that shirt be any tighter?"

"He was a modest man with much to be modest about."

"Okay. Let's go see Joe Black."

"Does the name John Wilkes Booth mean anything to you?"

"Those liver spotted hands have kneaded a lot of dough over the years."

"Next time we're all drunk at Daniel's like that, you know what we should do? We should make a snuff film."

Lots of Thelonious Monk without any sax.

"Some people bring home slips of paper with phone numbers when they leave a bar. Not me. My slips of paper all have book titles on them."

"By the time I got there, it was like watching a Chinese movie."

"So there we were at 3 am Saturday night solving all of the world's problems. The next day, we all woke up with headaches."

"My dirty little secret is that I'm not registered to vote." "My dirty little secret is that I'm registered twice. What do you want to get in on?"

It is hard for an empty bag to stand up right.

The title of this really has nothing to do with the actual entry. I was eating a fortune cookie and that happened to be what was inside. It's an interesting little quotation.

Anyway, this has been a bizarre week. A grade school classmate of mine died of a drug overdose. A large general store in the area where I grew up was leveled by a horrific fire. Fortunately, no people died in the fire, but several small pets and a llama perished. And then there was the whole bizarre Amish school shooting.

What the fuck is going on here?

So last week I won a radio contest. Everyday, the only radio station that I'm able to pick up in my office has an impossible trivia question. Last Friday, the question was "In 1979, Jimmy Carter was canoeing and something strange happened to him. What was it?" I got the answer right and they told me that I won a $25 gift card to the Giant grocery store as well as a chance to win a backpack full of school supplies that they were going to draw for a half hour later. I ended up winning the school supplies too! They said, "And you're not going to believe who our winner is! It's Chrissy - our own Jimmy Carter expert from earlier today!"

I suppose I've been called worse things.

Laura and I went to the station today to pick up the prize and I told the receptionist that I was there to pick up the two prizes. She went through her book and said, "Chrissy, did you know you were the grand prize winner?"

I said, "Yeah, actually. I heard them announce it."

The lady looked a little disappointed. I said, "Wait. I'll pretend that I didn't know. Go ahead and tell me again." So she did and I said, "REALLY?!?!?! OH WOW! YOU'RE KIDDING?!?!" really loud and jumped up and down. A couple people in the adjoining cubicles came out and talked to me then. Another guy brought out the backpack and there was so much stuff that went with it that they couldn't even fit it all in. This is what I got:

2 reams of paper

5 notebooks

10 packs of pencils (12 pencils in each...guess what's going to be in your stocking this year)

10 blank CDs

A three hole punch (I've needed one of those desperately for school for quite some time now)

A calculator

A six pack of post-its

More post-its in one of those twisty shapes

6 packs of note cards

Twisty crayons

About a dozen of those foamy grip things you put on your pencils

A super duper stapler that can staple up to 15 pages at a time (Ooh! Ahh!)

3 erasers

A pack of those erasers that you put on your pencils

A six pack of purple glue sticks (my favorite color...perfect for huffing!)

A pack of skinny highlighters

A pack of big yellow highlighters

3 rolls of tape (which I never seem to have in my house, especially when I need to wrap a gift)

AND

A roll of duct tape (since when is duct tape a school supply?!?!?)

They also threw a bunch of bumper stickers in there.

And to think the only reason why I bothered picking it up was because I'm going grocery shopping tonight and thought the $25 gift card would come in handy. I really hit the mother load.

I have been sort of out of touch all week. I had a group presentation in school on Tuesday night that monopolized a lot of my time. On my way to the presentation, my tire blew out. I had to call Paul to come save me and swap out cars. I'm so lucky to have him. I don't know what I would have done if he wasn't there. I was really freaked out. I called my professor before I even called AAA. I felt like I was letting my group down. Luckily, I was able to make it to class only 15 minutes late. And my group wanted to be the last to present anyway, so that got us out of going first.

The weirdest thing was that I had a dream over the summer that I missed a presentation for class because I blew out a tire. In the dream, I was only a mile or so away from where it actually happened.

Wednesday, I traveled with my boss to meet the new branches that I will be handling. It was a nice little road trip and everyone that I met seems really nice. I now officially have a lot on my plate, taking on three more branches in addition to the five that I already handle. But at least I won't be bored at work anymore.

October is looking like it will be very busy. I have a few concerts coming up. I'm actually going out for Halloween this year. And I also get to go to Lake Lure, NC for a business trip with the guys again. I had such a good time there last year. I can't wait.

Did you ever wake up to find a day that broke up your mind-Stones @ Giants' Stadium with Kanye West

Who the fuck decided that this was a good idea? I feel cheated. Halifax gets Sloan as an opening act. Chicago gets Elvis H. Costello, for crying out loud. East Rutherford, New Jersey? We get Kanye Fucking West.

The only reasonable explanation that I could come up with was that they were catering to the New York faux hipster crowd who think that it's cool to like the Rolling Stones. I think that sucks. I've been listening to the Stones since I was literally in diapers thanks to my older sisters. If you don't recognize the opening base line to "Live With Me" they shouldn't let you in.

I'd love to say that this is the end of my bitching, but it's not. I'll get on with my recap, though.

Paul (who has stolen my thunder by already blogging about the show, thus creating a lack of motivation on my part) and I got to this show early, even though I had been saying all day, "Eh, Kanye takes the stage at eight. So that gives us extra time." We arrived at our seats off to the side of the stadium at the very last row on the top long before he went on.

I'd like to take a moment right now to say an extra special "Fuck you!" to Ticketmaster. Lots of fans totally got dicked on advanced ticket sales. They did not actually give the best seats available in each price range to people on the pre-sale, which we were able to utilize. Had we purchased our tickets after the pre-sale at the same price range, we could have had tickets on the floor. This is not my only issue with Ticketmaster and I really think someone should investigate their practices. But that is another blog for another day.

You can probably guess right now about how I feel about Kanye West. Oh, I love his politics! Anyone who has the balls to go off script and bad mouth the President on national tv is ok with me. His music? Well, eh. I mean, I know that one song from an episode of the Boondocks. And I saw him do something on the Chappell show. But no, I'm not a fan of his music really. And I can't imagine too many other people at the show were, either. Hardly anyone was at their seats. He kept saying that he was doing his music for the people just coming to his seats and for all the haters. Thanks, Kanye. But that's really unnecessary. At one point, I looked at Paul and said, "I really wish he'd stop talking over the music like that." That pretty much sums up my thoughts on his performance. He's no Elvis Costello.

There was a really long intermission. We expected the Stones to come on stage no later than 9:15, but we were worried when a half hour after that had passed. To make matters worse, there was a group of 38 people from some work organization seated directly next to us. No one wanted to sit in their assigned seats and this caused them to stand in our row directly in front of us for long periods of time while they tried to figure out who would sit where each time a new group of drunk assholes arrived. After they stood in front of me for over five minutes, I schwoopie eyed the security guard to come over and handle things. He got them all to sit rather quickly. Unfortunately, I found myself doing this throughout the show. At one point, a guy was standing in front of Paul smoking and had his cigarette just inches from his face. I asked him to watch what he was doing. The guy said he was sorry, but when he walked away, he deliberately ashed all over Paul. Security Guard #774 (aka My New Boyfriend) asked us if we wanted him escorted out. We told him no, mostly out of fear of retaliation from the other 37 drunk assholes that were with him.

There were also two other drunk assholes to my right who were independent of the large group. My lover #774 had no patience for them and threw them out after accusing them of bumping into me. The crowd was such a pain in the ass.

Wow. I just realized how miserable all this sounds. I must say that this was by far the best Stones show that I've seen. The setlist (It's Only Rock'n Roll, Live With Me, Monkey Man, Sway, Far Away Eyes, Streets Of Love, Just My Imagination, Midnight Rambler, Tumbling Dice, You Got The Silver, Little T&A, Under My Thumb, Rough Justice, Start Me Up, Honky Tonk Women, Sympathy For The Devil, Jumping Jack Flash, Satisfaction, and Brown Sugar for an encore) was by far the best of the three times that I've seen them. I love the more obscure stuff. I could do without the crap that you hear all the time like "Jumpin' Jack Flash," "Honkey Tonk Woman," "Satisfaction," "Start Me Up" and "Brown Sugar" personally. I think they all sound too much alike. When Mick announced that they were doing "Far Away Eyes" Paul and I both looked at each other in disbelief and yelled "Holy shit!" in unison. The Keith Songs were great. The only way they could have been better would be if he had done "Before They Make Me Run." But I'll take this. I've already seen him do "Happy" at a different show. I also had fun trying to figure out what they were going to play next and called "Midnight Rambler" before they even started playing it really.

And yeah, they look old. They *are* old. But they still sound great and they still have such great energy. I'd love to see all these assholes who go around saying that they're ancient and about to break a hip run around on stage like that when they're in their late 60's. They're amazing.

Toward the end of the show, when they started to play all the songs that I mentioned before that I don't like, the crowd finally got into it. You can tell the only people who can afford these tickets are the people who just go for status. That's sad. I wish there had been more "true fans" there. At this point in the show, Paul leaned over and said, "Enjoy these last few songs. This might be the last time we see them."

I said, "If I have to enjoy these last few songs, they're going to have to play something different."

The show finally finished some time around midnight. We still had a long drive home and work at 7 am the next day. Plus, my boss was visiting my office. I went in the next day extremely tired.

But it was so so worth it.

Touched By A Creepy Rockstar - Family Values 2006

No, I'm not too old for this shit! In fact, this show started at an hour when most youngsters are still in school. This made for a pretty cool crowd. I hate annoying teenagers at concerts.

I've been to the Tweeter for enough festival type shows to know that you should always get actual seats. I've experienced the lawn seating in the rain first hand and it sucks. They were calling for rain and on the way there. It drizzled. But as we crossed the Ben Franklin Bridge into Camden, the skies opened up and it looked like it was going to be a nice day.

We got there, got the lay of the land and went in to see Deadsy. A few weeks ago, we saw them open for Flyleaf at the Chameleon Club in Lancaster. They're creepy. And yet, I find myself inexplicably drawn to them, especially the blonde guy on synthesizers. They more or less did the same set from a few weeks ago, ending with a cover of Rush's "Tom Sawyer" in which the singer dropped the "mother fucker" bomb. As in "Mother Fuckin' Tom Sawyer gets high on you..." or something to that effect. With that, they won me over. If you mother fucker a Rush song, you're now my new best friend. I decided that I liked them enough to buy the CD.

This worked out well. As it turned out, they were selling them at the FYE table for $15 and the band was coming out after their set to sign them. Figuring I'd probably end up buying it sooner or later anyway, I bought it and got in line to have it signed. I felt like someone's mom. There were all these Goth kids in line with me. A guy with a camera panned the crowd who cheered. I stood and laughed, feeling so out of place. The guys in front of me went on and on into the camera about how they liked Deadsy's version of "Tom Sawyer" so much more than Rush's. I'm sure this will hurt them someday if they ever want Canadian citizenship.

I got the front of the line. The guys were apparently instructed what to say to people as they walked through the line. "Thanks for buying the CD. We're doing a club tour in a few weeks..." blah blah blah. I told the first guy that I saw them at the show at the Chameleon and thought they were great. His face lit up a little. The synthesizer guy was even cuter in person. I looked him in the eye and had a hard time turning away. It was creepy. Another one of the guys in the band had fake blood all over his face. They all signed with symbols rather than their fake stage names. It's a big act, but I loved it.

We went back to our seats to and saw the end of 10 Years and all of Dir En Gray. Dir en Gray was quite a sight. They're these crazy little Japanese rockers. Up next was Flyleaf, part of the reason why we were there. Paul is absolutely obsessed with them at the moment. Honestly, of the four times that we've seen them, I think this was their worst performance. Something seemed a little off to me.

Since they were doing a meet and greet and Paul is practically stalking their singer Lacey Mosely, we bought CD's to get signed. One of Paul's co-workers' daughters likes them and he thought it would be nice if we got her an autographed copy too. I think he just wanted me to go through the line with him so that I would take his picture with Lacey Mosley on his camera phone. And it's funny because when we got to the front of the line to get the CD's signed, Paul asked Lacey if he could take a picture. When I offered to take the picture for him so that he could get in it, he said no. Fucking wierdo! The band was very nice and introduced themselves and shook hands. But this put me in an awkward position since I was getting the CD signed for the co-worker's daughter and I didn't know her name for them to put on the CD. The picture that Paul took is below.



She's so tiny!

During this time, Dir En Gray did a meet and greet, but did not sign anything. We commented to one of the FYE people that it was probably because they didn't know how to sign their names in English. She smirked and kind of nodded.

We made it back to our seats for the last half of Stone Sour's set. It wasn't bad. Next came the Deftones. I must admit that I know little about them. In fact, the only song that I knew that they did was a cover of the Cure's "If Only Tonight We Could Sleep." But I liked them. I just haven't had much exposure to them. They were good.

I thought our seats were pretty good since they were right by the soundboard. The sound at a concert is always best there. But throughout the show, there were these girls in front of us who had seats elsewhere, but kept coming to our section to hang with other friends. They would stand in front of us, putting their asses right in front of our faces. Being short people, we decided to move over to the other end of the row. This put me right next to the railing blocking the seats from the soundboard area in the last row of the section.

During the Deftones' set, this guy in the section behind us decided to stand against our section and dance. He kept bumping our seats and I swear his sack hit Paul on the head a few times. It took all I had to not turn around and say, "Excuse me. Could you please stop t-bagging my husband? Thanks!" I guess we could have moved back to our other seats. The annoying girls had been chased back to their section by security. But by this time, we had heard rumors that Korn was to come out and do the first song of their encore on a platform in the mixing board area, giving me a front row seat. I place my knee firmly on the railing. I wasn't going anywhere.

Korn came on. And despite all those warnings from Gloria Estifan, the rhythm did in fact get me. I really got into it and started dancing. I called Griff during "ADIDAS" since we used to listen to that all the time. I was excited. They played all the regular singles and some things here and there from the new CD. It was a good mix. I looked over and saw members from Dir En Gray sitting on the platform in the mixing board area. Soon, security started beefing up and flashing flashlights. They placed a water bottle on the platform. I knew the set was coming to a close.

When they finally came out, they walked right past me to get on the platform. Everyone crowded around. They did their song, but I couldn't even tell you what it was because I just couldn't get over how lucky I was to have my seats. Paul took these pictures.






When they walked off the stage, everyone crowded around again trying to get high fives. I put my hand out and Jonathan Davis gave me little twinkly fingers against my palm. Yeah, I wouldn't want to touch half those people there, either.

They got back on the stage. Jonathan ran around in a goat mask for a little while and then they finished with "Are You Ready?" and a lot of purple confetti. Someone shot t-shirts into the crowd with potato guns. It was a really good time.

We also had the quickest and easiest escape from Camden that I've ever had. We got out and got on the bridge before traffic backed up. I'm not sure what I did to deserve such good concert karma (save for the guy bag tagging Paul's head), but I hope it happens again.

Why the two little girls from The Wreckers have very big balls

Paul and I have been extra concert happy for the last few weeks. A few weeks ago, we went to concerts three nights in a row. This week we went to shows on both Thursday and Friday. And they couldn't be more different.

Thursday we saw the Wreckers at Penn's Peak in Jim Thorpe. Penn's Peak is a nice place to see a show. It's in the middle of nowhere, yet very easy to get to. It's fairly small. And they don't charge for parking.

If you know me, right now you're probably thinking, "What is Chrissy doing at a country show?" Shut up! I like the Wreckers. I also know all the words to Garth Brooks' "Ain't Going Down 'til the Sun Comes Up" and can even sing them drunk. I'm not completely opposed to country music. I just don't prefer it.

There was no opening act. The MC for the evening looked like she came straight from the old "Magic Garden" TV show that I used to watch as a child and had the personality of a piece of toast. But the show itself was very good. Each of the girls came out and did solo performances in the middle of the set. Michelle Branch did a rendition of Tom Petty's "You Don't Know How it Feels," but none of her solo stuff. They played for roughly an hour since they only have one album's worth of material.

There really weren't a lot of people there, so we moved up closer to the stage. There was "pit" area blocked off from the regular seating area and a large aisle separating the two sections. People (including two little pre-teen girls, probably at their first concert ever) would walk up to the aisle and snap a picture. Security would then chase them away. People were also getting pulled out of the pit area left and right for using their cameras. At one point, this huge security dude stood right in front of everyone who was seated trying to find people to bust for camera use. He then entered the pit area and several people were ejected.

When the girls came out to do their encore (a cover of "Strawberry Wine"), Michelle Branch said, "By the way, we don't care if you take pictures or video. So none of that is coming from us." I laughed my ass off. One of the security guards who had been watching the pit area walked from his post, storming out. The bad girl in my just loves seeing security get it sometimes.

Up next: Family Values that don't involve the Christian Coalition.

Minor Details

It's been a while since I've posted anything here. Well, that's not entirely true. I wrote a very profound and emotional blog on Monday night, but Myspace ate it. I clicked to post and got some weird error message. When I tried to go back, my words were lost forever. That blog could have resulted in a cure for cancer or world peace, but now I guess we'll never know.

Okay, maybe not. But here are a few minor happenings in my little world.

I'm going to Hawaii! Yaaaaaaayyyy!

That's right. Paul and I booked a seven day cruise for February. It's my big reward for finishing the MBA. That will make state #49 with only Alaska left. And with any luck, that will happen in June.

School started. And it still sucks.

Soon it will be over. I'm at the point where my general attitude is, "Ok. I'm here. What do I need to do to get this over with?" My finance professor seems cool. My capstone professor is going to be somewhat tough. He has a pretty strict policy on missing class and unfortunately, I have to travel to North Carolina for work next month. As a result, I will have to outline the chapter covered that night, find an internet article relating the chapter, and do a five minute power point presentation on it. I'm not happy about this considering this trip is work related. It's not like I'm just blowing off class.

Concerts! Concerts! Concerts!

Last week, I went to three concerts. I haven't had the time or the desire to recap them in full. Besides, Paul already did. So, I'll just give my Reader's Digest thoughts on each one.

Flyleaf at the Chameleon Club - It was really fucking loud in there. The first band was great, but I don't know who they were. Deadsy was creepy. Flyleaf was okay, but we saw everything from above and behind. We missed a lot of the facial expressions and the sound was somewhat muffled.

The Magic Numbers, Sonic Youth, Ween and the Flaming Lips at the Allentown Fair - I had never heard the Magic Numbers before, but I dig them. Sonic Youth played mostly newer stuff, but they were great. I was a little confused as to why they got such low billing. The crowd loved Ween, but I still think they're fucking weirdoes. And the Flaming Lips? Wow. Just wow. Once they started, I totally understood why they had top billing. Their show was so over the top. They shot streamers and confetti into the audience throughout the show. They had these huge five foot balloons that they released into the crowd. There were people on stage dressed as Santa Claus and Alien chicks. At the opening of the show, they had some sort of quotation about our lives being just a blip in the massive continuum of time and space and that we should make our lives epic journeys. It gave me all sorts of warm fuzzies.

Asia at Penn's Peak - This was okay, I guess. Steve Howe who is roughly 107 years old and the former guitarist of Yes played a few Yes tunes. They also covered Video Killed the Radio Star because the keyboard player also played in the Buggles. I have to say that the weirdest part of the show was intermission when I went to the bar to get another beer and ran into a former grad school classmate who is from nowhere near Jim Thorpe.

I had a few weird dreams this week

The first dream was that Madonna came to visit my neighbors. She had all these busses and limos parked on my street. And all the old people on my block seemed to know her personally. Madonna set up a giant Tilt-A-Whirl type ride across the street for the kids in the neighborhood to ride.

My other dream was that I was riding a skateboard up the hill on Hunter Street in Tamaqua at 2 am on a Tuesday morning. I ran into one of my friends who said he was going to the bar at the Citizens' Fire Company and I went along, but I don't remember that part of the dream. In the dream, I woke up at 9:50 am, extremely late for work and panicked. This panic woke me up and in the first few seconds I thought I really was late for work, even though it was only 3 am.

Well, I think that's everything going on here. Hope everyone else is doing well.

I met a man. He was a good man - An acoustic evening with Frank Black and the Foo Fighters

I have been looking forward to this concert all summer. I'm not sure which part I was more excited about. Frank Black is the front man of my all time favorite band and I loved the Foo Fighters the last time I saw them.

We left work early. I was not going to miss Frank Black like I missed OAR. We ended up getting having time to stop at Starbucks (I'm really digging those Tangerine Fruit Juice Blends...it's like a Tangerine slushy with a hint of tea) and still standing outside the Tower Theater for at least another half hour before they even let us in. We were subjected to works of marketing genius while waiting. There were hot chicks spraying guys with samples of Tag body spray and gay guys handing out shampoo samples. We also saw someone hang a sign that said that WXPN is going to change its format to all alternative. Yay! Alternative music is finally back in Philly.

We got in, swiped free hairspray samples from the bathroom and went to our seats on the loge. The pre-show/intermission and after-show music was the same Johnny Cash CD over and over again. People eventually filtered in closer to the start of the show.

Frank Black came out promptly and started with "Bullet," going right into "Where is My Mind?" without interruption. Loved it! I'm not sure the crowd really recognized a lot of his stuff. They applauded the aforementioned songs along with "Los Angeles" and "Holiday Song," which was the only other Pixies song he played. During the half hour that he played, Frank did not address the audience, other than to say good night. A stark contrast from the times I've seen him with the Pixies.

When the set was over, the guy sitting next to Paul leaned over and asked who he just saw. When Paul told him Frank Black, I gave the guy a look like he was from Mars. He just played cool. "Oh yeah," he said. "That's what I thought." Yeah, right.

Dave Grohl made up for Frank's lack of interaction. He told lots of stories during the Foo Fighters' set. He talked about how he hated that the song "Next Year" was the theme song to the tv show "Ed" and how he hated the show in general. He also talked a lot about "Rockstar Supernova," asking drummer Taylor Hawkins if he'd rather be in Supernova. He talked about the first time he met Frank Black. It was at a festival show in Belgium, which also featured the Ramones. Backstage, there were tables set up for each act based on their size. The Ramones, being a big band with a large crew had a large table and Frank, being a one man show with his guitar had a small table. Dave, Kurt and Krist decided to change the signs on the tables and traded Frank's table for the Ramones table. When they came back to the catering area hours later, 15 guys were gathered around a two seater table that was meant for Frank Black, while Frank sat at a table for 30 by himself. Dave laughed the whole time he told this story.

There seemed to be a lot of moving around downstairs. At one point, Dave threatened to come down and personally usher everyone to their seats. It was then that we learned of long lines at the beer concession stand. A girl in the front row was walking to her seat carrying two beers. "Is one of them for me?" Dave asked. She promptly gave him one of them. He traded and gave her his bottle. He then asked, "Is this that Pennsylvania beer? What's it called, Ukulele?" The crowd corrected him, telling him it was Yuengling. The girl told him she was drinking Miller Lite and he gave the beer back to her, taking his bottle back. He asked her if she drank from the bottle and started calling a roadie to come get it. Then he said he was just joking and took a swig from the bottle. Although, he didn't touch it again for the rest of the show. And when he came back from intermission, he had a different bottle.

He also told the story of how he joined Nirvana and what it was like to live with Kurt before he played "Friend of a Friend." He also talked about how it was a shame that Philly lost its alternative station. You could tell he was struggling with a cold a little. He was barely audible after screaming during some of the songs.

As for the set list, the show has been pretty standard in all the cities that they've been to so far, starting with "Razor" and ending with "Everlong." Just before "Everlong," Dave brought the house down with "Best of You" screaming solo. Most of the stuff is from the lighter disc of "In Your Honor" with some old favorites like "My Hero" and "Times Like These" thrown in. They also played some more obscure stuff like "Skin and Bones." Very cool! They have changed a song here and there in each city. Our "catch of the day" was "Big Me." It was cool.

When we walked out of the show, we saw the tour buses. Figuring it would take us a while to get out of the parking garage, we decided to hang back with a crowd that had formed near the bus. A kid standing behind us made my blood boil. "I didn't like that first act," he said. "I kept waiting for him to say something to us. And his guitar playing was so off." Hey kid, Black Francis does not need to address you. Ok, buddy? And as for the guitar playing, most of what he played was written to be hard and heavy with a full band. That's why it sounded different.

Dave didn't come out, but we got to meet Taylor, which was cool. He seemed pretty friendly. Paul got this picture with his cameral phone.



It's a camera phone, people! Deal!

I'd probably put this show in my top ten all time favorite concerts. It was small and cool. I tend to like the heavier Foo Fighters stuff, but this was flawless. They won me over.

Five Questions

Because Jam asked me to do this...

1. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Not in the traditional sense. However, there are certain people in my life that I have a frozen image of in my mind from the first time I saw them. I know this is going to sound kind of weird, but for most of my close friends and people that I have a lot of respect for, I felt a certain kindred vibe from the second I set eyes on them. I could tell you where it was, what time of day and possibly what they were wearing. It's like I knew ahead of time that they'd have some sort of impact on my life.

2. What have you learned about yourself that came as a surprise?

I'm not really as lucky as everyone thinks I am. Sure, I have a great life and a lot to be happy about, but I don't think I got it from luck. I got it from having a strong value for perseverance and foresight, a little bit of intelligence and the ability to just cope. I don't quit things because I get stressed. Sure, I have my meltdowns when I reach a breaking point, but I don't quit. I get through it. I have little respect for people who give up while saying, "Oh my life is so stressful." Fucking pussies! I think I get this from my dad who worked two jobs, raised a family and took care of my disabled mother. See now that guy had stress. But did he quit any of it? No. He knew what he had to do. He never accepted any kind of hand out or help. He worked hard and took care of things. And, if I ever have kids, that's the kind of role model I want to be - one that carries on day to day functions no matter what life hands her.

My best friend also had a pretty shitty life before she passed away. But she lived her life based on one basic word: Cope! I still find myself saying that from time to time to myself and to others. I'm glad she taught me that.

3. What quality do you possess that was a weakness before it became a strength?

This is a no brainer. I am and always have been a total bitch. This has helped my career immensely. I have a job where I get to say "no" a lot and I enjoy that.

I have to tell people that if they don't pay me, I'll be suing them. Then I sit in depositions and face the motherfuckers when they dare to look me in the eye. They squirm like little girls who have to pee. I deal with arrogant men who are stupid and sexist on top of that. This isn't a job for nice, prissy girls.

I never understood the whole "people pleaser" thing. I don't expect anyone to be responsible for anything I need. That's all up to me. So why should I bend over backwards and put myself out just to make you happy? That's not to say that I won't do it if I want to. But leeches don't get very far with me. Sink or swim! Don't pull my head under with you.

4. Are you consciously aware that you are "crossing the line" when you cross it? Think of a situation where you intentionally crossed the line and tell me about it.

I cross the line every day. I think life is boring when you stay in your safety zone. My biggest regrets in life stem from times when I didn't take action rather than the times that I did. I like to pick up sleeping kittens because they're so damn cute. I stir things up. I sometimes make comments that I shouldn't make. But this is because I have to get it out. Sometimes, like the other night, I drink too much and become selfish and self involved.

But I was selfish and self involved long before I drank. So it's not because I'm an alcoholic. I'm just a fucking asshole.

5. How do you express your feelings of anger and hurt?

I guess it all depends on the degree of anger or hurt. I've been known to scream and throw things. I've also become withdrawn and quietly go off by myself or just nap. If it's a really deep hurt, I might write for hours and hours. It all depends.

Repost this as "5 Questions" and learn something a little more meandingful than your friend's favorite color.

The semester wouldn't be complete without this

It's time for my regular end of semester bitching and whining. I know most of you are pretty fucking sick of asking me how I'm doing and hearing me whine and bitch about how I have 50 billion papers to write or some type of group project with at least one time wasting member or a control freak or a flaky whack job (this semester, I think I was actually the slacker though. I guess we all get our turns at being the asshole). So if you're sick of this, just skip ahead...

As I've probably mentioned countless times, I had one regular class twice per week during the first summer session. I failed the first test, which was a major part of my grade. Managed to get the lowest grade in both sections, as a matter of fact! I didn't even try! But I worked my ass off and ended up with a B somehow. It's a bit of a blow to my 3.91 GPA, but I earned that B in every sense and I probably have more pride in that B than any of my A's because I worked really fucking hard for it.

My other class consisted of five Saturday sessions that went from 8:30 am to 5 pm. Most professors dismiss these classes some time around 3 pm, but not mine. In fact, one day he even kept us until about 5:30. For that class, I have had monstrous research and practicum papers to write and it's been pretty tough. As I type this, I am procrastinating writing the last one that I have to do. I know in my head that once I am finished with this paper, I will be able to enjoy what's left of the summer. Yet, it's hard to get the creative and motivational juices flowing. It usually takes a few beers. And before you all look at me like, "I can't believe she has to drink in order to do her homework. She's clearly an alcoholic," I will say this: So?!?!? Hemmingway and Bukowski (among others) wrote brilliant pieces of literature trashed off their asses. This is just a retarded little paper about me and my job.

For those of you who skipped ahead, I am finished bitching about school now.

So tonight I took a little break and went to see Clerks II. I heard that tonight was the last night it was playing in the good theater in town. I could have gone to see it next week in the bad theater, but, well, fuck that.

The first Clerks movie is my all time favorite. Any time I ever had a bad day at work, I would come home and watch it. It just made me feel better. Up until the job I have now, I have mostly hated my jobs. So I have seen this movie many many times.

I was surprised at how good it was. I kind of expected it to suck, actually. I skeptically thought that the original is such a fine piece of art that it really shouldn't be fucked with. But Kevin Smith seems to have the characters in his heart. It was like when you read a really good book and you wonder what would happen to the characters after the book was over, later in their lives. It was a little sappy at the end, but the resolution made so much sense. My only complaint was that it was kind of quiet. There were very few places where there was music going in the background (unlike the first movie). That made it seem a little off to me for some reason. But that's really my only complaint. The acting wasn't great, but that kind of made the movie.

One thing that I thought was odd was that Paul and I were the only people in the theater who stayed for the credits. Kevin Smith's thank you's are a great part of his movies. This one even thanked several thousand myspace fans. But then again, this is Berks county and it's highly probable that most of the people who were in the theater can't read. Of course, the credits roll so fast that you can't really read them all anyway. I will probably add the DVD to my little Kevin Smith collection and read them all then. I also want to catch all of the little gags in the background too. I caught a few, but I'm sure I missed many.

Anyway, don't be afraid to go see it. I liked it and expected not to. I will leave you with that. I need to get some rest so I can finish the paper tomorrow.

Don't get me started on that. We'll be here all night.

I've been a single girl all week. Paul went to Mexico for business and I've been flexing my independence. I slept with the tv on and right down the middle of the bed. I turned the temperature up in the house to a toasty 72 degrees. I ate cereal for dinner. I cleaned the house like a fiend. And I hung out with my gal pals a lot.

Dani came to visit for the weekend. Friday we went to a really bad Asian restaurant and just kind of hung around all night.

On Saturday, my sister Karen came over and we went to the Reading Public Museum. For the next few weeks, the museum is showing an exhibit from the Post Secret site. I love this website and check it just about every Sunday when it updates. In case you don't know, people design post cards that contain their secrets and thoughts and send them in anonymously. I've even gone so far as to contribute with my own deep dark secret.

The exhibit displayed a lot of the secrets that are featured in the Post Secret book, which I own. I forgot about some of them. But there was a lot of repetition. There was even a mailbox sculpted out of packing tape and post cards available for anyone who felt inspired enough to leave their own secrets. I didn't participate in this, however. If I'm going to spill, I'm going to be creative.

Upstairs, there was a Keith Haring exhibit. I love Keith Haring. I like the whole squiggly graffiti type stuff. It never ceased to amaze me how the man could deliver a complex message in a simple drawing, many with bright happy colors.

The first piece that we saw was a very detailed map of Berks county that Haring drew when he was in high school. Many people don't realize that he's a native of Kutztown (known mostly for it's artsy state party school and being just on the edge of PA Dutch and Amish/Mennonite country). Keith eventually migrated to New York. And it's a good thing because there isn't a subway in Kutztown. The subway is where he did some of his best work. On display were big chalk murals on the black paper that would cover out-of-date advertisements on the subway. There were videos showing Keith, young and lively, before he was diagnosed with AIDS. There were pieces of large murals, one of which was a collaborative project with high school students in Chicago. Keith created the outer framework of the mural and the students filled it in with their own creativity, some of which was very intricate and creative.

At the landing at the top of the steps was another mural of a city. Inside the windows of the buildings were hundreds of little mirrors at varying angles. These mirrors showed the reflections of little cards that were attached perpendicular to the mural, giving it the effect that when you looked into the mirrored windows, you were actually peeping in on a little scene that was on the card. I'm not sure if that makes much sense, but it was really cool. On the wall across from this mural was a bunch of dry erase boards so that people could create their own art on the walls, too. Dani drew a dancing cat.

In the next room, there was nursery furniture that Keith painted. Ironically, this display was right next to a portion of the exhibit that "might be offensive to some" or "might be inappropriate for children." This was Keith's darker stuff. Right in the corner was a picture of Keith with William S. Burroughs. Aside of it were two very disturbing pictures featuring a photograph of a child with bird like feet drawn at the bottom and another one with a photograph that had 50's style mother with an infant and dark and disturbing images around it. There was also a large painting of two very pregnant women hugging. Oooh! Yeah! Real offensive, there! It's funny how you can see a billion naked people in a museum and it's art, but when you put two pregnant almost stick figures of the same sex hugging each other, it's offensive. And apparently William S. Burroughs will make you dark. There was also a picture in this section that was shot by Andy Warhol of Keith with Brooke Shields. That was offensive, too, I guess. Maybe for the Scientologists?

There was another piece that Keith collaborated on with Jean Michel Basquiat (see now THAT is a disturbing movie...but with a kick ass soundtrack). This lead me to ask what a lively guy like Keith was doing hanging around with all those junkies. Some other points of interest were an Easter egg that Keith drew on that was from the White House Easter egg hunt. The owner was at first pissed that he drew on it and thought that he ruined it. Now it is a prized possession (and probably worth a pretty penny to boot). There was also a funny photograph of Keith and a bunch of other hip New York artists. "I wonder if any of them are gay," my sister pondered aloud just to be funny since most of them very obviously were. "Planet Clair" also played non-stop in one room for no apparent reason as well.

We left there and had a nice Mexican lunch and ice cream at Cold Stone. Dani and Karen were both Cold Stone virgins, but I think they liked it. Then we went back to my house and lounged around watching movies.

Paul is home now. I have to share my house again...and the blankets, and the remote. I've already started cleaning up after him (I didn't bust my ass cleaning all night Thursday just for him to mess it up). But at least now I have someone to talk to besides the cat. I'm sure the independent woman routine would get old sooner or later. And somebody has to mow the grass. Just kidding. Welcome back, Paul. Glad to have you home.

Movie Confessions

I hated the following movies that everyone else seems to love:

-Star Wars

-Raiders of the Lost Ark

-Titanic

-Brokeback Mountain

-The Princess Bride

-Monty Python and the Holy Grail

-Grease (Yeah, that's right. I fucking hate Grease...I've finally admitted it.)

-Aladdin

-A Hard Day's Night

-Neverending Story

-Risky Business

-Caddy Shack

I have no interest in seeing the following movies:

-Any more of the Star Wars movies (although, I loved the last one...but I'm fascinated with villains)

-Godfather, Goodfellas, Casino, Scarface, etc. (I can't focus on mob movies...although, I love the Sopranos).

-Gone with the Wind

-Casablanca (I've tried numerous times...just couldn't do it)

-Anything with the Marx Brothers

-Anything Lord of the Rings (I missed them on the big screen. That would be the only way I'd want to see them).

-Shrek

-Moulin Rouge

-Oceans 11 through 68 (69, on the other hand...as long as Brad Pitt and George Clooney were still hot...)

-Any of the Harry Potter movies (Again, I just can't get into them)

Some more confessions:

While I love Office Space, I think it could have been funnier.

I don't like horror movies. This is not because they scare me. In fact, they don't scare me at all. I know they're fake. My friend Evy and I used to rent them when we were kids and laugh the whole way through them. The Shining...Ooooh! Creepy twins in the hallway! Old lady in the bathtub! I'm shaking. *yawn* (Note: There is an exception to this...anything with snakes. I have an irrational fear of them and just looking at pictures of them gives me anxiety. When I first heard about "Snakes on a Plane" I laughed. I thought I'd like to see it because it just sounds goofy. But after seeing the trailers...mmmmmnotsomuch...But I loved the movie "Sssssss!" for some reason, probably because it's really cheesy).

On the other hand, documentaries freak me the fuck out. This is probably because, unlike horror movies, there is a real element involved. I joked with my friends when I saw "Kurt and Courtney," that I was afraid that Courtney Love would find out through Blockbuster that I rented it and she would have me killed. Nick Broomfield's other movies are pretty dark and creepy, too. I've never seen Monster, but Broomfield's documentary about Aileen Wuornos had me pondering about death and God and damn near close to going to church. Michael Moore movies just make me sad for our future. But they freak me out a little, too.

Coen brothers movies make me sleepy. And I swear you can doze off during scenes and never miss anything.

I never found Mel Gibson or Kevin Costner attractive. And I hated Tom Cruise before he was a whack job.

I can't watch M. Night Shyamalamadingdong movies without second guessing what the twist is.

Every Christmas day, I watch "A Christmas Story," but I don't think I've ever seen the whole thing in chronological order because I'm always in and out of the room or only briefly visiting someone else who is watching it.

I have had no interest in any of the Disney movies since Beauty and the Beast, even though I saw a few due to peer pressure.

I love all of Cameron Crowe's movies, even Vanilla Sky.

I'm annoyed that they had to renumber all of the Star Wars movies. And aren't there more that come after Jedi? I hate quitters.

I'm sick of remakes. Doesn't anyone have an original thought anymore?

Cross Country Jaunt III - Eastward Ho!

Wednesday, July 5, 2006

We left Seattle for our ultimate destination - the beach in Astoria, Oregon where we got our car stuck on a previous trip. This time, we would see it in the daylight. We loaded up the car. As we were driving a rock flew up and chipped the window of our rental car. Ssssshhhh! Don't tell the rental company.

When we got to the beach, we discovered a parking lot literally a few yards from where we got the car stuck last time. That would have been useful. A bunch of other people were there with two horses. We tried to walk down a path in the tall grass that lead to the beach, but ended up just walking in the grass because there was horse shit on the trail. We walked on the beach briefly and called our dads. Then we started a slow ride back that was ridden with traffic and construction. Curses! We lost a lot of time because of this. I started eating the crack balls and found a cool radio station. The dj told this funny story about David Hasselhoff at Wimbledon that I couldn't wait to get back and share with everyone. I stayed awake until we were just outside of Portland. Then I dozed off again.

My slumber ended abruptly when Paul saw mountain sheep on the side of the road and started screaming. He's always looking for mountain sheep when we travel. I fell back to sleep. Paul said I missed a waterfall. I also realized that I lost my comb at this point. I was getting cranky again.

We stopped for gas and drinks in some little podunk town in Oregon. Paul pumped the gas and I went in for the drinks. When I first walked in, the cashier was hounding some guy who apparently owed her money. He was very obviously blowing her off and she was getting pissed. He then walked out without paying her and without giving her a clear idea of when she would be paid.

I found a comb. I walked up to the counter. It's important to know that I was the only person in the entire place by the time I was ready to check out.

The chick behind the counter looked at me and said, "Is that all?" I told her it was. She said, "You need to get in line over there. This is the diesel line."

"Where?" I asked because her point was kind of vague. I took exactly two steps to my left.

She sighed deeply, obviously annoyed with my stupid question. "Right there," she said as she pointed to where I was standing (again, two paces from where I originally was). And no word of a lie, she rang up my purchase at a register that was an entire arm's length from where she was standing. I gave her a look that basically said, "WTF?" And she started to explain that I was standing in the diesel line. I rolled my eyes. She made it sound like it was a whole other planet and that it would be really really far for her to get to the register that wasn't for the diesel line. Then I poured on my sickeningly sweet voice that I use when people are obviously annoying me, my fake politeness. That bitch met my tone, obviously using the same tactic. Whatever. I guess if my job involved being a cashier in Middleofnowhere, Oregon, I'd be a pretty bitter bitch, too.

I went back to the car and realized that I had now officially hit rock bottom. I was so cranky and uncomfortable from just sitting around in a car for hours on end and eating poorly (I swear I gained 500 lbs on this trip). I generally was not feeling well. I was also homesick and missed Shmuffin. I wanted to jump on a plane and head straight for my five B's (basement, beer, blanket, book and bad tv).

We stopped at a scenic view point. I took some pictures and a few deep breaths. Paul said that he felt ridiculous in his old shirt and glasses (which I love...I have a weakness for guys with glasses). I gave him a once over and shrugged. "I lost my comb," I said in a tiny voice. We both laughed.

We continued on to Boise, Idaho and stopped for the night. We had strawberry Poptarts and Dr. Pepper from the hotel vending machines for dinner. Paul fell asleep. I, on the other hand, had a lot of trouble. My mind was racing while watching "Aileen: Life and Death of a Serial Killer," contemplating my own death. It freaked

Thursday, July 6th, 2006

So there we were, driving along some main highway in Idaho when, low and behold, we see a lot of black smoke up ahead of us. As we got closer, we saw a tractor trailer with it's cabin completely in flames, tiny explosions going off as we passed. Either it had just happened, or Idaho is really bad at closing their roads when something like this happens. But it was scary. It could have completely blown while we were passing. We just passed it as quickly as we could. And I believe we were a good five miles down the road before we saw a cop traveling down the other side of the highway with his lights on. We continued into Wyoming.

The mountains in Wyoming near Grand Teton National Park do not look real. They look like a movie set. We stopped a few times to take pictures. We passed a guy selling buffalo jerky out of the back of his truck. No thank you! I'll pass on that one. We also saw a few moose and a bear.

Yellowstone is adjacent to Grand Teton. It was gorgeous and we could have spent a lot more time there. As we were driving in, we were getting this really mellow alternative station on the radio that played things like The Church. As we pulled into the area where Old Faithful is, we noticed that it was going off. We realized that we would have to wait awhile for it to go off again. We made our way to the gift shop. The woman behind the counter was probably the first person to discover Old Faithful. She was old and took forever to ring me up. There was a long line behind me. I felt bad, as if everyone was staring at me because I was making her take so long. She looked at me and said, "I know there's a line, but every customer is important." I guess that was sweet. But I still felt like an asshole.

We waited and waited for Old Faithful. That thing is a tease! It spit a little bit of water out and then just steam for minutes before it finally went off. It was well worth the wait, but I half expected someone behind me to say, "But the fountains at the Bellagio have music with them!" The guy sitting on the bench next to me walked over and sarcastically said, "Oh look. Another geyser." I wanted to punch him in the nuts at the time. But as we started to make our way out of the park, I realized that there are a bazillion geysers in that park.

It was a long ride out of the park and we saw a lot of wildlife. There were buffalo roaming. One walked right in front of the car in front of us and I thought it was going to charge a minivan pulled over on the side of the road. It did not. However, the look on the face of the guy driving the minivan was one of a man who had just soiled himself. There were other buffalo just hanging out and grazing. People were getting out of cars to take pictures, despite the little flyer they give you when you enter the park that warns you that buffalo are wild animals and like to gourd people.

It was getting darker and darker and we still were not out of the park. An Elk crossed in front of us, and I swear it laughed at our little Kia and would have chucked us the finger if it had one. We also saw a coyote eating something on the side of the road. When we got out of the park, we decided to backtrack to Jackson because we were not sure if we would find a place to stay for the night if we continued east.

This proved to be a good decision because we found this kick ass inn. At first it looked a little skeevey. The office was closed and we had to register and get our keys (yes, actual keys and not those plastic card type things) from the gas station convenience store that was adjacent to the hotel. A guy who walked out as we were walking in looked a little sketchy, as did the guy working there. But he turned out to be really nice. And the room was awesome! It had six pillows for our king sized bed, an extra blanket, lots of big fluffy towels, a little kitchenette and about 80 channels on the television. What luck!

Friday, July 7th, 2006

We got gas at the gas station at the hotel. I cleaned out the car and found my comb while Paul was pumping the gas.

We made our way over the mountains. We actually saw a chick on a unicycle going over the mountain. I'm not kidding. I wish I would have been able to get a picture because I doubt anyone will believe that I saw that without first consuming some sort of mushrooms.

We stopped in Rawlins, Wyoming for lunch and more gas. A lady at the gas station told us that there was an accident on the interstate, but we never saw it. I fell asleep once we got back on the road.

Here's something that burns my ass. Wyoming also has a good alternative radio station, and yet Philly does not. Life is unfair.

The next time we stopped for gas we were in Nebraska. There was a wacky Mormon family with a bratty kid waiting for the bathroom. The parents seemed really emabarrassed by their child's behavior and I almost felt bad for them, except there were w a million of them in line and I really had to pee. We also found Zots! Remember Zots? They're those hard candies with the sour fizzy stuff in them. I had similar sour ball type things at the Franklin Covey seminar, but I don't think I've seen actual Zots in years. And they were watermelon flavored! I've never seen those. I love watermelon candy.

We stopped at a fast food place called Runza's for dinner. I had never seen one of these before. They have their own special onion ring recipe and these sandwiches that are kind of like stuffed homemade bread. We continued on, determined to get to Iowa before stopping.

We made it into Iowa. Nebraska is a really big fucking state. We wanted to stop at the first stop, when we crossed over the boarder, Council Bluffs. Unfortunately, every hotel in town was booked due to a tattoo convention. We drove for about another hour, past some skeevey looking local hotels. We stopped at a Super 8. The lady there said they were out of rooms, but called a Days Inn about 20 minutes away and asked them to hold a room for us. She was obviously an import of some sort, because all the other hotel clerks we met that night were less than helpful. We made it and swore that our next night's sleep would be at home.

Saturday, July 8th, 2006.

I don't have a whole lot to say about Saturday. I got sick. I spent most of it sleeping through Illinois and Indiana. Paul and came to a conclusion about cover songs after everything we heard on the radio. A good song is a good song, no matter who does it...unless it's Metallica. We saw more fireworks. We stopped at a Steak and Shake drive thru, which we had never done before. We heard a lot of Billy Squire on the radio.

We finally rolled back into Reading, Pennsylvania at about 4 am. We needed gas by the time we got off the turnpike. We stopped at a nearby Wawa. Paul was actually dancing at the gas pump. He never dances. We came home. I gave Shmuffin hugs and kisses. I went to bed, but couldn't sleep, too wound up from the excitement of being home. I settled back, watched "The 40 Year Old Virgin" on cable, finally dozing off as the sun rose.

Cross Country Jaunt Part 2 - Electric Boogaloo

Monday, July 3rd

We had the greatest breakfast ever at the hotel in Missoula. They had everything imaginable and it was so good. The people were sweet in Missoula, too. Except for the bitch who cut in front of my in the juice line while I was patiently waiting for an elderly lady to finish what she was doing. It was no wonder the bitch was sitting in the corner by herself. I'm sure nobody loves her.

There was a gas station and a Starbucks right next to the hotel. That worked out nicely. We filled up and I had a tangerine juice blend. We backtracked just a bit to the University of Montana, drove around looking for the bookstore and then started wandering around on foot. The lady in the admissions office gave us bad directions (it was on her right, not ours), but we had a nice walk. We bought sweatshirts and then got a little lost getting back to the car. People said hello as they passed us on the sidewalks. It was a really nice place.

We continued on through the skinny part of Idaho, finally crossing into Washington. We made our way to Spokane and wandered endlessly on Gonzaga's campus looking for the bookstore. It was hot. I was cranky. And when we finally found the bookstore, they didn't have anything I liked in my size. Paul got a sweatshirt. We went back to the car.

We stopped at Sonic for lunch. That was the first time I was ever at a Sonic. They are few and far between here in PA. We ordered chicken wraps, what we believe is the equivalent of going to Yocco's and getting the fish sandwich (local reference...sorry), strawberry limeades and tots. I put the tots in my pocket for later. Ha! Just kidding.

We drove through the state of Washington, looking at the pretty mountains. We finally made our way to Jam's house. She came out to greet us and I made her carry her extremely belated birthday present into her apartment. We hung around there and I played with her cats. She has three very cute kitties, including a bit of a skittish kitten. She also has a bird. We tried to teach the bird to say "Seeeeeaaaaaatttle" like the girl at Zipperhead said to us, but to no avail. Instead it just made zipper sounds at us and pretended to be a bat.

We left her apartment to have dinner with her friend Carl. I finally got to meet the infamous Carl who copies everyone on emails to Jam's mom. I didn't realize that he was the same Carl until well into the night. Nice guy, but he seemed a little too disappointed that I no longer have big hair. I guess he and Jam differentiate me from all the other Chris's in her life by calling me the "Chris with the big hair." I guess they'll need a new nickname.

Dinner was at this Italian place that was pretty good. The waitress turned out to be a total bitch, though. When it came time to pay, we decided to have the bill split because everyone but Paul wanted to pay by card. She lectured us about how we should have told her sooner. Jam helped her with the extremely old computer system that they had. We got our check. Paul paid with cash and the waitress just assumed that he didn't want change and the rest of the cash was hers to keep. Granted, he was going to give it to her anyway, but it would have been more polite to ask. She then went two tables behind us and loudly apologized that she took so long to get back to them because she "had to split a check for the other table that didn't tell her that they wanted it split." Whatever.

Carl started popping these weird Japanese sugar candies that he referred to as "crack balls." After having a few, I'm convinced that "crack balls" is the literal translation of the Japanese label on the pack. Jam later gave me a pack of these things that did not make it past Wyoming. They have a bit of a citrus flavor to them and if you suck on them and roll them around with your tongue just the right way, they come apart in this powdery way that's almost like a pixie stick. It's crack, I tell you! Crack!

Carl noticed that the killer mosquito bite on my arm had now swollen to the size of an egg and asked me about it. Now that somebody else noticed it, Paul finally took me seriously that something was wrong with my arm. After leaving the restaurant (and Jam taking a few pictures of the moon with her camera on a tripod...fucking weirdo) we went to a drug store and got me some Benedryl. That knocked me out when we got back. I slept hard.

Tuesday, July 4th, 2006

We poked around in the morning a little, taking our time before going to the Pike Street market. The entire ride out, Paul kept talking about how he wanted a salmon hot dog. When we got there, the salmon dogs were temporarily discontinued. I joked around with the guy behind the counter, who told me that I should have called before driving 2800 miles for a salmon dog.

We walked around the market. I bought some cool post cards from the Allen Ginsberg photo collection and this cool travel journal. I started to get bitchy so we stopped for lunch at a place called Sisters. We had sandwiches on focaccia bread and listened to street musicians play bad Beatles songs. A guy in an all black suit chased them and then this chick started playing. I think the guy was the pimp of street musicians or something. Creepy. My sandwich had good west coast avocado on it. I'm definitely an avacodo snob. You can't get good avocado anywhere but the west coast. Even the avocado in Vegas was not as creamy and good. We grabbed coffee at a Seattle's Best, which had weird service, and made our way to the park for pictures.

After that, we went back to Jam's apartment and lounged a bit. We decided to go see "The Devil Wears Prada," which was good, but not as good as the book. We thought about going to see fireworks after that, but nixed the idea. We goofed around in the apartment some more and then went to Denny's. We played our own version of Pee Wee's Playhouse with a secret word that is and isn't dirty depending on the context. How we did not get kicked out of there, I will never know.

We came back and crashed out. The next day Jam would have to go to work and we'd start our trek back east.

To be continued...