Friday, December 29, 2006

hum drum

its now just a matter of waiting.

I'm not exactly sure when this happened. I spend my days waiting for the clock to move just that much faster. When I don't wait for the clock I am waiting for other people. But its not like I'm doing anything earth shattering, nor interesting. What I do effects no one, and nothing. So I sit and I wait.

I don't even know what I am waiting for. Part of me thinks that maybe I'm waiting for something to happen. Like get fired. or fly off the handle and strangle my boss till she's blue in the face. Something.

Sure I go to work, and I sit in my cubical. I do the keyboard tapdance all day in hopes that if I do it long enough I look like I'm doing something. But really I'm finding out that whatever I have done really isn't what needs to be done, so then the people above me throw downcast looks and then simply take the work away from me. I don't know what's going on.

Instead I wait. not so patiently, but I still wait.

I wait to be told when and how to wipe my own ass, then I do it, only to be told I did it wrong. I ask for clarification, guidance, only to be told that I should already know how to. I try and protest, claiming that I thought I did - but I'm obviously not doing it to the specifications that are desireable, just to be shot down once more with the retort that I "should" know.

Fuck this. I'm looking for new work elsewhere. I've already applied for an upgrade....a better job has got to be something, no?

Monday, December 25, 2006

James Brown - RIP 1933 to 2006

from the AP wire:

Brown was hospitalized with pneumonia at Emory Crawford Long Hospital on Sunday and died around 1:45 a.m. Monday.
I, for one of millions, will never forget the Godfather of Soul. His music had the power to heal, make people rise up, and bring conciousness to so many generations. Without his influence music to today would never be a great as his weakest attempt.

He will be greatly missed.

why am I working on christmas?


this sucks. Nevermind that I don't get paid for OT. I'm fuckin salaried for crying out loud. I was fucking hood-winked. "we'll never make you work for more than 40 hours a week." bull shit. I've clocked on average for the past 4 moths: around 65 hours a week.

if i didn't like money I'd fucking quit. That and I kind of want to see this project through to the end...even though it's probably going to go down in horrible flames simply because it's an unreasonable delivery time for a project of its size. Nevermind the fact that there are only 3 designers working on this that would otherwise take a team of about 8 highly skilled flash developers to do it. Not overly educated PhD's and MA's sitting around attempting to build it. That and the time schedule is unreasonable. 3 months to deliver something that any design shop would tell you would take 6 months to do properly. This is going to end horribly... hopefully not in my quick dismissal from this company.

Although I did pack my stuff up on friday, just in case. I'm not taking any chances. I've been spit out too many times to not know any better.

Friday, December 22, 2006



it meant something once. not so sure about it now. It's beginning to feel more and more like "come-spend-your-money" days.

I guess that I'm reminiscing about what it was like when I was a kid. It was magical - okay not really magical - but it make me think of a time when I thought that it was possible for my desires to come true. (Besides - most 5 year old desires are easy to meet.)

One thing that I remember that makes me smile inside a little - I used to sneak out of bed late at night and I'd tip-toe up to the Christmas tree. Praying that the squeaky floor wouldn't give me away. The tree was all adorned with lights and colors - and towered over me. I remember standing there gaping at how tall it was and how really awesome it felt. I thought that it was the prettiest thing that I'd ever seen.

then... and this is the one thing that I never understood... i had the compulsion to pray.


I'd kneel down on my knees- just like those Rockwell-ian images - in my jammies, and I'd pray. Pray not really for things - but really whispered hopes. I'd pray that I'd grow up big and be happy and that boys would like me, but really I remember praying that things would be better. That life would be simple and that all my family and friends would be okay in the coming year.

I truly thought that it was possible for this magical (albeit dead) tree to grant peace and keep a watchful eye over me, my family and friends. And actually expected for my wishes to come true.

Now I'm older, but strangely I still yearn for that same compulsion to pray for peace. Pray for guidance and pray for a fruitful and happy year ahead. I mean that is what this time of year is for anyway. The earth is hibernating with the expectation that in the season to come all will grow and be good.

So my holiday will be spent quietly praying for all my friends and family. For all those strangers I don't know, and finally for the wish that I could be young at heart for as long as I can hold on to it.

That'd be an awesome gift.