Oh Shit

So, I was just taking the garbage down to the bins in the yard and I bumped into the people who live in the ground floor apartment. Ouch! Ha, JK guys! Daniel and I have never met them before, but we always see them through the window watching their super fancy-pants flat screen tv and working on their super hi-tech computer. Their flat has just been burgaled. Shee-yat! It happened today some time bewteen 11 and 6. Lovely. Just as I was feeling happy about our neighborhood (it is a beautiful day here and everything looks good). Bastards. I feel really bad for the people downstairs, even if I may have made 'oooh look at ME watching fucking The Wright Stuff on my fancy-schmancy tv!' comments at times. Guilty, guilty as charged.

The BEST part of this is that Daniel has chosen this night to be down in London and I am aww awone! Wah! So, because I am a scaredy cat, I have double-locked the doors.

I mean, we don't have that much stuff to take, and we live on the 2nd floor (that means 3rd in America)but I am not pleased with this turn of events.

However, it did distract me from the fact that my first day of work was dullsville, and that I am exhausted. My body has no memory of real work. Seriously, it's like when you get really fit for a while and work out or run or something everyday (note, I have never done this)and then you lapse (I HAVE done this) and drink beer and eat cheesecake like it's your job and then a month later you go running and it is as if you are Harrison Ford in 'Regarding Henry,' learning how to walk again and painting wildly colorful pictures of Ritz crackers. (Sidebar: OMG, how much could I go for a fucking Ritz cracker right now!? Alas, they are nowehere to be found here!)

The point is, I cannot believe I have a job again. How can I score one of those gigs as an anonymous shopper (you get to buy stuff for free, right?) or hotel/resort inspector? Are those jobs real? You woudl often see ads for 'mystery shoppers' in the back of the Village Voice, but I always tended to find the stuff in the back of the VV rather dubious.

Um, where was I? Yes: work and how it is for the birdz. I may become one of those people who sells posters at street fairs. You heard it here first.

The End is Nigh

The end of the Reign of Laziness is coming. On Tuesday I start a new job. What am I going to do? I will have to wake up early and take the bus during rush hour and join the masses of (shudder) common people who work.

Even on the few days a week that I did 'work' over the last few months, I was exhausted. And what of my social life? No more staying up til all hours, downing 40s, blowing rails and dancing until my feet bleed! I'll have to stay in, playing whist with a hot cup of cocoa (can cocoa play whist?), while the hubby polishes his shoes. Fucking hell, I may as well be MARRIED. Oh. Wait. Har har har.

And what will happen to my 'ME time'? When will I have the chance to sit, eating bonbons, painting my toenails and watching my stories? I will have to wait for bank holidays, like any other working stiff. Unfair!

And perhaps worst of all, I will have to have those 'work conversations' about the weather and the weekend and catching colds and elevators and stupid little things. Maybe they don't do that here in Scot-land. Maybe they talk about their hooses and bairns and what tartan their clan is and how the heather in the glen is bonnie as a wee something.

Meh, whatever. Maybe I will bring some good old fashioned American surliness to the pristinely designed halls of my new workplace and just grunt in response to any questions.

In any case, it is going to be a tough transition. To help me through The Change please buy me gummy candy and/or Minstrels. And if any American people can find it in their hearts to help put a smile on my face (Pauly Shore, Carrot Top, I am talking to you guys) then a postcard, letter or other parcel is appreciated.

Goodbye, goodbye. I love you all.

OMG

Yo ho ho! It is my first post in more than 2 months, dang. I have an excuse: the internet connection at my parents' house is so slow that it was impossible to do anything. My father has become very interested in the 'blogosphere,' (which he actually calls 'Blogville') because of a family friend who now has one, and I nearly was outted as a blog-owner, but thank god, I think it is still under wraps.

Anyway, this is an exciting time for all: Pirates of the Carribean Deux is out. Yes, at last. I have not seen it yet. I need a break from the movie marathon that was my last few visits to New York. Shall I give you the run-down? But of course! And I shall give them stars, shall I? Indeed!

La Moustache ****- totally trippy and has my new fave line of any movie: 'But you never HAD a moustache!' (mais en francais). Imagine trying to pull that shit on Burt Reynolds. He would NOT be having it.

A Prairie Home Companion *** - I even found myself loving Woody Harrelson, ma foi! Sacre bleu! Yes, it is true.

Nacho Libre ****- Four stars, amazing. Made corn on a stick look like the best snack ever. As Jack Black says in the film, 'Jyessss!'

The Break Up **- Vince Vaughn is fat.

The Devil Wears Prada ****- A-mazing, for real. I never thought it could be so good. Meryl Streep is an artiste, auteur, actrice, aardvark, etc.

Strangers With Candy ****- The bomb. Has my second fave movie line: 'I may be an adult, but I have the mind of a child.'

Superman Returns (is that the title?) ***- Meh, not bad, not great, all in all a bowl of warm pasta with a kind of too salty red sauce that you could have made better yourself at home.

Good god, watch out Stephen Holden, A.O. Scott and Whatsername at the Times, I am ON IT.

And I'm out. Peace.