Blogging 365, Day 8: Hey Hey, I’m a Monkey


Rooster

Much like numerology, I never really gave a lot of thought to astrology and the personality characteristics of traditional zodiac signs. I always thought it was a bunch of hogwash written by newspaper columnists that had some ad space to fill when the sales reps couldn’t sell it.

Then one day I discovered the Chinese zodiac signs while eating a fine Chinese dining establishment that had all of the symbols and information printed on their paper placemats. This, by the way, is probably the best way to gauge if the restaurant is worthy of your patronage.

Upon reading the chart, I discovered that based on the year I was born (1969 for those of you keeping score at home), my symbol was that of the Rooster.

And boy, did that animal’s personality fit me perfectly: proud, confident, bragging about accomplishments, keeping in good health, staying active, blunt but also loyal and honest. I always kept this in the back of my mind and whenever the topic would come up, I’d proudly exclaim that I was a Rooster and then everyone would kind of look at me and seem to think, “Yeah, I’m not too surprised by that.”

Hey, it’s not bragging if you can back it up, right?

Anyway, I carried that along with me knowing that it was spot-on, dead-nuts about me. I wouldn’t be bragging about it otherwise. Screw the traditional zodiac; the Chinese zodiac obviously had it right and was much, much more reliable.

MonkeyThen a few days ago I discovered that the Chinese zodiac doesn’t just rely on the year of your birth but also the date of it.

That’s when I discovered that, after years of laboring under the delusion that I was a Rooster, it turns out that I’m actually a Monkey.

Yep. A Monkey. So let’s take a look at what a Monkey is like and if it matches me.

They are clever, mischievous, practical jokers, rarely ill (because they think that being sick is a waste of a valuable day), adapt well to changing environments.

Once I discovered this I went back and compared these traits to the Rooster and found that I fit both Rooster and Monkey. It’s pretty safe to say that the Monkey’s traits also describe me fairly well.

But wait, I mistakenly thought I was a Rooster all these years based on my year of birth. Now that I have correctly determined my symbol, it turns out that I’m a Monkey and again, the characteristics match mine.

It was then that I came to the conclusion that if I went through all of the Chinese zodiac symbols, I would have at least one (if not, then a few) traits in every animal represented on the chart.

In other words, as if fortune cookies weren’t already a clear indication, the Chinese zodiac turns out to be just like the traditional zodiac: hogwash written to fill unsold ad space.

But I sure could go for a banana right about now.

By the way, I’m completely aware that Berryz Koubou is a Japanese not Chinese group so please don’t bother to point that out. Work with me here, people.

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More Random Thoughts


The mind of a writer never rests and as Ben Hecht said, “Every writer is a frustrated actor who practices his lines in the hidden auditorium of his skull.”

Truer words were never spoken and here’s a perfect example of that.

Below is a list of random thoughts much like the ones I posted here a few years ago. I don’t do this too often because I’m sure that one of these thoughts, one day, will be the one-liner that everybody and their brother will be saying once my screenplay gets sold and made into major motion picture.

You know, my screenplay? The…one I…haven’t quite written yet?

Oh, fuck it. It’ll never happen. And if it does, here’s a taste of what it may include. It’s not quite as long as my last list but in all honesty, I just needed something to blog about.

Enjoy what it’s like to be my brain.

I have to get used to these manual-flush toilets. I miss doing the ol’ Shit-and-Runs at the other building.

Recycled toilet paper? Screw the environment! I want toilet paper I can gently wipe my ass with!

Sorry, I won’t be able to make it. I have some kind of -ectomy scheduled at the very same time as the department lunch. It’s pretty serious.

No, the real difference between you and me is that you THINK you’re funny and I KNOW I’m funny.

I didn’t lie to you. I gave you a false answer.

What the fuck? Is it made from Rearden Metal or what?

Peanut vendor: who wants a great big sack of salty nuts?
Blonde: why do guys always ask me that?

Okay, so…are you going to shut the fuck up now or what?

(Spoken monotone) LOL wut?

Her cubicle looks like a Princess Barbie playset and whenever I get papers back from her, they always have purple or pink glittery sprinkles and shit on them. And smell like artificial berries.

I’m a naturally hot person to begin with. I mean, just look at me and it’s obvious.

Woman: I thought you said you had a Porsche?
Man: Is this not a Porsche?
Woman: Yeah but I wasn’t expecting the one that Jake Ryan drove in Sixteen Candles.

Goddamnit, I’m a genius!

So yeah, that’s about it.

The Bathroom Troll


hbreunion

The dog-and-pony show that I call work continues to stupefy me and take life into new realms of weirdness.

You all know that I ride my bike to work at least 3 times a week. When I do, naturally I stuff my backpack with my work clothes since, well, I don’t think they’d appreciate me sitting at my desk in bike shorts and an Under Armour compression shirt, dripping in sweat.

After I put my lunch in the fridge, I head to the big stall in the bathroom to change into my work clothes and without fail, between 6:45 and 6:55 a.m., the door opens, there’s a crinkling of a plastic bag, and then…nothing.

That’s it. There’s nobody coming in, there are no echoing footsteps, absolutely nothing. So from what I can gather, some asshole—for whatever reason—simply opens the door all the way as he passes the bathroom and then continues down his merry way to the elevator, probably skipping and whistling “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” or something.

Hmmm…and for what?

I dunno. But after being a part of The Banana Fucking Splits Show for a few months and watching how the place operates (which to this day astounds me), I’ve decided not to question anything anymore. I just roll with the punches and hope that someday, a big bag of money shows up on my door. There’s no reason it would; it’s just nice to think about.

Search_over_engineeredSpeaking of dysfunctional workplaces, I finally got my PC which actually worries me more than anything. You see, getting a PC is akin to the Kiss of Death for me: every time I get one, I’m moved to another desk (or table or M*A*S*H unit in the parking lot, as it were). And being it was yet another computer, it had to reinstall everything (residing on the network) all over again.

The one thing it couldn’t do for me was create my e-mail signature, which is usually so cut-and-paste it’s ridiculous. But no, that’s not how we roll.

I had to copy-and-paste generic text and replace the names and phone numbers with mine, download their all-too-important logo, etc., etc., etc. The problem was that I couldn’t find the Signatures folder which is where I needed to save the HTML file.

So I did the only logical thing: I searched for it on the PC. As the Microsoft dog pawed at the ground waiting to return my search results, the monitor went blank and the damn thing restarted.

It did this each time I tried to search for it. I eventually got it to save the signature but man, at least give me a PC that works, will you?

Welcome to Idearc Media, where nothing makes sense and the Keys of Knowledge have been lost forever.

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Random Work Thoughts


Here’s just a random slice of some of the things that went through my head today, as jotted in my iPod Touch and e-mailed to me once I got home where I added the links.

Note that there was nothing special about taking notes today; I just wanted felt like doing it.

Enjoy!

(Regarding the signing of a birthday card of someone I don’t know): If I do, I do; if I don’t, I don’t.

What the fuck is that squeaking?

Tom Waits would never win American Idol, and that’s cool with me (and probably Tom Waits, too).

Come on, 3:30…

Who really let the dogs out?

The good thing about riding to work today: lots of calories burned. The bad: I’m tired as Hell.

Damn, that lady has one ugly kid. Poor thing fell from the Ugly Tree and hit every branch on the way down.

I hate sales reps.

Just saw that kid’s mom up close. Bastard never had a chance.

(With each paper I flip through): This job sucks, kill me now…this job sucks, kill me now…

“Cross over to Bridgeburger, and cross over to pleasure!” (It’s doubtful many people will get that. Do you?)

Is it 3:30 yet?

I still don’t have a computer at my desk but I don’t seem to mind because when someone asks if I got “the e-mail,” I can enthusiastically point to the gaping hole on my desk where the computer should be.

We (Ann and I) were so much better off financially in 2006. What the Hell happened?

Damn carpetbaggers…

(Soto voce, while playing on my iPod): “Yesterday…all my troubles seemed so far away…now it looks as though they’re to stay…oh, I believe in yesterday…”

Boom! Headshot!

Can’t wait until our Disneyland Annual Passes are not blocked out. I need an escape for a few hours–or a day.

Woah, who needs Dinseyland? I just totally disconnected from work for a minute there. I need to remember how I did it so I can do it again for…the next 6.5 hours.

My muse must be summoned, and now.

I wonder what they are going to be filming at the park (which was used for Dexter not long ago). Guess I have to make a sidetrip on my way home today. (Update: methinks it was a commercial and not a big production.)

I can’t believe some people use an AOL e-mail address for their business–how tacky. Yeesh, even I have a personalized account and who the Hell am I? But much like those who have the Jesus fish on their ads, a business with an @AOL address immediately tells me who to avoid.

Think of a story for a book. Write it. Kiss this job goodbye.

“Hello, Mudda…hello, Fadda…”

I seriously think I’m having a nervous breakdown. (A few seconds pass.) Nope, just bored out of my effing skull.

Did my supervisor just refer to me as John?

If I keep blocking Status Updates from Facebook “Friends” I might as well cancel my account. (Thinks.) No, I just need to spend less time there.

(Upon overhearing “Margaritaville” playing on the piped-in radio station in the office): Jimmy Buffett sucks. Fuckin’ a, he sucks. STFU, you fucking idiot. Who enjoys that shit you call music?

(While listening to Loretta Lynn’s “When the Tingle Becomes A Chill“): I should really write a country song.

Oh, leave me alone already…

Why did that Rice Crispies Square taste kind of pickly?

It’s 3:30. Thank God.

…and that’s what runs through my brain most of the time. Be afraid.

One more thing. I found the infamous Pimps N’ Hos picture that I mentioned in this post. In fact, a cropped version is now my new banner but if you want to see the uncropped version, here you go:

pimps-n-hos-lo

Note that the picture was found in a kitchen drawer and sustained some damage, but it’s still not that bad.


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It Started Today


July 16, 2004 was a day much like today, save for the fact that I was 35 and Anthony was still in diapers. Oh, and I was about 80 pounds heavier and had more hair.

The summer sun shone brightly and the weather was just right. Well, it was right for those of us that live in the city.

For those few that call the mountains and hills their home, it was the middle of the so-called “fire season,” a time when the media whips up their usual pointless frenzy and begins to report on what the fires are doing.

And as is always the case, the fires were burning. Duh. Fire Watch 2004 had begun!

So it was at that point I decided to do two things: first, I needed to stop watching so much TV news. The talking heads no longer did it for me. Second, I chose to start a blog to voice my opinion on the fires and the media’s coverage of them. I signed up at Blogger (because I didn’t know any better) and wrote my first blog post, entitled “Fire, Fire Everywhere.”

In the post I attacked the media’s coverage of the fires because frankly, it’s pointless. If you read the original post you’ll see what I’m getting at. They make it sound like the entire state of California is on fire when nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, I had people e-mailing me asking how I’m doing when I’m nowhere near any of the fires. That’s like me e-mailing my friend in Japan to see how he is after watching a Godzilla movie.

But I digress. Four years, over 400 posts, 10,000+ hits, two domains and two blog hosts later, I’m still at it but with seemingly less frequency than before. This could be due to the fact that I now have two blogs, which…I seem to have less and less time for these days.

Either way, I’d like to take a moment to thank those loyal visitors—all two of you—for making my efforts seem worthwhile. Barring death, injury or severe beatings at the hands of rabid Steve Perry fans, here’s to many, many more years of blogging.

Cheers!

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