Category: Sooey Says
Ch ch ch changes
Wasted two hours talking to my Conservative friend last night on the phone, which I haven’t done in a while because I’m afraid of getting a brain tumour (smart phone).
I’m thinking of going back to a land line now. The once groovy no contract run-a-tab phone company I’m with has shocked me with a couple of “wtf?” bills, and I barely use my phone at all because I’m done with phones.
Once my mother is gone, that’s it. I canceled cable and survived. Of course, we have Netflix. Maybe I’ll get one of those throwaway phones like the drug dealers on The Wire use.
I’ll use it for texting needy and insecure mother affirmations to my kids. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’m so glad we worked this out.
A crabby Facebook friend in the media biz posted an interview with crabby Fran Leibowitz and when the interviewer called her she said, “You’re calling me from a cell phone, aren’t you. I can’t hear you. Hang up and call me from a landline or don’t call me.”
Exactly. How stupid is it that we conduct business on phones that have poor reception, let alone try to have conversations with our elderly mothers.
Anyway, the real reason why I called my Conservative friend, I think, is to talk myself into quitting my job. Don’t worry, if I do I’ll be so freaked out that I’ll actually finish “My Book! My Book!” by the fall.
Also, I’ll probably have another equally stupid job in retail. Not to whine too much but I’m not making any money and being on my feet for five hours without a break selling clothes made in China to women who can afford them (down 30% from last year, apparently) is less rewarding than you’d think.
Okay, ladies, I think you can stop trying to break the glass ceiling now because I’m getting splinters in my skull.
Today on the internet I read about transit deserts in Toronto so that you won’t have to. I don’t live in a transit desert, but public transit is unreliable and expensive so I don’t know what our point is. The people who can least afford to be late for work depend on it. And since downtown is mostly unaffordable, fuck off, hipsters.
We hate you.
Ottawa is all buses, still. It’s unbelievably stupid, but there you go. Also, everyone who’s anyone’s hopes are pinned on a big glitzy retailer moved to town. I’d tell them that it’s failing already but I don’t want to ruin the surprise too early. A young friend formerly of the store I work in works there now and she said it’s starting to get that desperate feel to it.
Oh well. It’s hard to care when it doesn’t matter. And it’s not like we haven’t seen this show before. My young friend said the culture is uber corporate all of a sudden with the sort of random changes in policy that signal panic at HQ.
That would be a great name for a band “Panic At HQ”.
No wait, it’s be a great name for “My Book! My Book!” Don’t steal it. I’m still deciding.
Why isn’t income splitting allowed for everybody instead of just well off people with kids? The federal government will only use our taxes to subsidize the Conservative Party, Tarsands Inc, and War Toys R Us, anyway, so I think the NDP should promise to extend income splitting right down the line.
Income splitting the way it is discriminates against a lot of Canadians.
We should launch a class action suit against our government, bring back “No taxation without representation”.
My Conservative friend went on about what a warrior nation we are as if I didn’t grow up with my dead father’s WWII uniform hanging in the basement that may or may not have served as a Halloween costume one year.
Yes, peace was a brief period of prosperity, but thanks for playing.
Here is a cute stunt that won’t change anything.
Thy Will Be Done
Hah! If you go over to Dr. Dawg’s you will read that he’s about to do what I’ve been trying to do (total lie, I’ve been obsessively following Twitter like a complete idiot).
And this morning I took time to respond to a comment here on my blog even after I vowed to give up blogging until I’d finished “My Book! My Book!” Really, everyone can have his or her own opinion.
What business is it of mine?
It doesn’t take Einstein (who probably didn’t have a very high E.Q., though, so) to recognize that I’m procrastinating because “My Book! My Book!” has become difficult.
Also, a good friend in AA advises that wanting the best for our worst enemies will make us better people, and since I can’t do that (if I was a better person I wouldn’t be me) I’ll draw inspiration from him instead and get back to work on my book.
He’s written several, and he’s as crazy as a bag of hammers. Surely I can write one.
No, do not indulge me with good wishes in the comments section. I don’t deserve them. Besides, I know you have them for me.
Really, and this goes without saying, I know, but I’m such a lucky stupid bitch.