Ordinary Extraordinary

Diagnosis

Never fear, it has all been made clear:

Bush isn't an idiot, he's just suffering from presenile dementia.

(In spite of being more than two years old, the link above is still relevant and more than a little unsettling.)

Ten Things

Ten things I would write about if I'd had more than two days off since the beginning of the year (in no particular order):

• Joining Barack Obama's team. Obama '08, baby.
• The most recent updates on my various home renovation projects.
• The re-structuring at my company and the resultant need for me to re-apply for my own job.
• My neighbor Stephanie getting deployed to Iraq.
• The book that changed my whole outlook on what it is to be a pro.
• Kissables' eerie resemblance to Sorry pieces.
• Setting up broadcast coverage for an awards show in the pouring rain and how much that sucks.
• How glad I am to have an internet capable Treo since I basically don't have a computer at home.
• The return of L.A.'s rainy season! Hilarity ensues.
• amandarin.net v2.0, coming soon to an internet near you.

That's what I *would* be writing about, if I was doing anything other than working & sleeping these days. Sadly, I'm not.

Pimpin' Jimbo

The Mighty Jimbo is for sale, and he's cheap! From his website:

My Flickr page has been pretty damn busy lately. And, I might add, pretty damn good too.

Modesty - never my strength.

Sure, I used to entertain the masses with drama and debauchery from OC and beyond. Now I just take cute pics of kids and dogs and sunsets and stuff.

But they are GOOD cute pics of kids and dogs and sunsets and stuff.

Want some cute pics of your kids or dogs or sunsets and stuff? You can either buy mine (Cheap, I say, CHEAP!) or hire me to take some for you. Really, I just want the experience, so for a few bucks and maybe some good beer, I'll point the lens in your general direction.

A man has to support his debauchery somehow. Plus, he has the cutest dog on the planet and you wouldn't want that dog to go without biscuits, would you? Of course not.

Oh, and the photos? Gorgeous.

Go. Look. Buy photos. I bought three!

(A special note to SoCal folks who are planning weddings: he does those, too.)

Rules To Live By

The list below landed in my mailbox this morning and was well timed to coincide with some conversations that I've had with friends lately. It is an excerpt from Charles J. Sykes's book Dumbing Down Our Kids: Why American Children Feel Good About Themselves But Can't Read, Write, Or Add though it is commonly miscredited to Bill Gates.

Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!

Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.

Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.

Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.

Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.

Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, BUT LIFE HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.

Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.

Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.

Rule 12: Smoking does not make you look cool. It makes you look moronic. Next time you're out cruising, watch an 11-year-old with a butt in his mouth. That's what you look like to anyone over 20. Ditto for "expressing yourself" with purple hair and/or pierced body parts. (Ed: I beg to differ on the hair point *g*)

Rule 13: You are not immortal. (See Rule No. 12) If you are under the impression that living fast, dying young and leaving a beautiful corpse is romantic, you obviously haven't seen one of your peers at room temperature lately.

Rule 14: Enjoy this while you can. Sure parents are a pain, school's a bother, and life is depressing. But someday you'll realize how wonderful it was to be a kid. Maybe you should start now. You're welcome.

Note to Self

Note: Agreeing to have "just one drink" with the Utility Department* after working 40+ hours over three days is never a good idea.

So, I've survived the Golden Globes (but 8am sure did come early this morning). Four more shows to go in this mad, mad season! Updates will continue to be be spotty for awhile... the last hinge on my PowerBook finally gave out so I have no computer at home and no free time on my computer at work. It balances out, though, because the reward for working all of these crazy hours is that I'll earn enough in OT to buy myself a new computer!

Unless the government takes it all away in taxes. Bastards.

_____
*One of the hardest working departments in television, Utilities are responsible for doing everything to get the cameras & monitors set-up and functioning properly. They work their asses off and are notorious for showing the same level of enthusiasm towards their free time.

Experts need not apply

This morning, after President Bush unveiled a faster way to kill soldiers yet another poorly thought-out military strategy for Iraq, Robert Gates (our Defense Secretary of just three weeks) was quoted as being "no expert on Iraq" and "no expert on military matters."

Holy crap Bob-o, how the hell did you get appointed to this position?

I know, you were in the CIA for 27 years. You wrote a book about how covert operations and blatant disregard for Congress won the Cold War. Your doctorate is in Russian & Soviet History. You have never served in the military and left your prestigious CIA career to become the president of a university. Given all of that, there's no reason to expect you to be an expert in military matters or the cesspool that is Iraq.

But Mr. Gates? You are the fucking Secretary of Defense. Didn't you think that position would require oh, I don't know, expertise in military matters? Familiarity with Iraq? Particularly when being appointed in the middle of a war that is being waged in Iraq? 

I'm willing to be charitable. Perhaps, in the flurry of activity since you started, you've gotten a little fuzzy on the parameters of your job. Allow me to refresh your memory with a little blurb from the Department of Defense website:

The Secretary of Defense is the principal defense policy adviser to the President and is responsible for the formulation of general defense policy and policy related to all matters of direct concern to the Department of Defense, and for the execution of approved policy. Under the direction of the President, the Secretary exercises authority, direction and control over the Department of Defense. The Secretary of Defense is a member of the President's Cabinet and of the National Security Council.

That's your picture next to the job description, Bob. Maybe you should have fucking read it before you signed up for this ride.

Last Weekend Standing

Since this was my last full weekend off until March, I decided that I should do peaceful, relaxing things*. I went to Mongo's house for ribs & wine**, I got my hair cut, I spent some quality time with TC and Keith. I ran some errands, I cleaned my house,  I made a new friend***. I hung my fabulous new curtains, did some reading, and was in bed by 10pm Sunday night****.

Just a nice quiet weekend, really.

_____
*Or... things that may prevent me from ever running for office.
**There may also have been a highly alcoholic beverage that tasted exactly like Hawaiian Punch.
***And gave him my phone number
***Possibly because I didn't get home before 4am on Friday and Saturday night.

Perhaps if I stopped speaking Swahili...

This afternoon, while chatting with a Line Producer (LP) about the best way to get information to a crew that is not one of mine:

Me: Do you need me to send out the crew email? Normally I give them their call times, etc, but would you prefer to do it?
LP: Well are you giving them their call times?
Me: I will if you need me to. I'm only peripherally involved in this show so I didn't know if you had another plan for contacting the crew.
LP: You should give them their call times.
Me: OK, then I'll need all of the parking information, maps, and the credential pick-up location so I can send it to them all at once.
LP: Oh, you don't need to worry about all that. We'll send out the crew information.
Me: Will you include their call times in your email?
LP: Yes, of course.
Me: Great. Let me know if you need me to do anything.

Even money says that crew doesn't get their call times.

Surfacing

I have not fallen off the face of the earth.

I have not been abducted by aliens.

I have not been kidnapped by Creepy Guy.

I have not been whisked away for an all-expenses paid cruise around the world by a handsome beau.

I have, however, been chained to my desk for hours on end; work has simply exploded all over my life since Tuesday. So far this week the only two things I've done outside of work are buy curtains and flea dip my cats.

Oh, the excitement.

I cannot WAIT for Bootie this weekend; I need dancing and drinking like no one has ever needed dancing and drinking before.

Hello, 2007!

And goodbye, 2006! Hallelujah.

I woke up this morning to the dulcet sounds of the Rose Parade's opening flyover and settled in to watch the parade commercial-free with a big mug of Red Chai tea.

Later, I'll head down to Orange County to watch the game with the North County USC Alumni Club.

   

Beer, football, parades? That's the way to start a new year!

Happy New Yar, everyone.