Jerry Seinfeld Can't Write THIS Much Nothing

Matt Smith.

When I was younger, I used to say, "Someday I'm going to write a book." Later on, when I discovered that I didn't really have anything to write about compared to everyone else, I expanded that idea into, "Someday I'm going to write a book about nothing."

Then Jerry Seinfeld "stole"/simply used that idea, and so began my lifelong hatred of Jerry Seinfeld.
That's a lie. I actually don't hate him. I just hate that he does things. Just in general.

I only bring up books because this blog entry, for all intents and purposes (just what IS the purpose of a blog?), has the capacity to BE a book. No. Not just a book, but a Book. That's right. Watch out. I'm capitalizing things. Randomly. I have the alphabet in upper-case and I know how to use it.

I thought about just being a little shit and typing "bloggity blog-blog-blog" for the entire time here in front of the computer, but then I thought about all the insignificant things I could write and complain about, all the things that people have done that bother me, all the wonderfulness of simply taking the things in my head and putting them in print... and I thought... "bloggity blog-blog-blog" would really probably cut it.

But I'm not going to do that. If only for the simple reason that Google (and all those other search engines that may indeed just catalogue porn sites) would have a field day with all the "blog" words. Or all the two blog words.

Now I'm just rambling, honestly, since I've been accused of "not blogging enough" and "having nothing good to write about" or "sitting with my thumb up my ass" or "being a child of the 60s." All of those are real accusations, all of them are things that I have, of course, been accused of, but not all of them have been spit at me in the past few months. All kinds of folks are apparently up in arms over the lack of blog. And, certainly, when I say "all kinds of," I really mean "all two."

Speaking of the last few months, a bunch of things have happened in amongst the getting up early to earn my dollar, going to class sleepy and without my work done, going back to work to deal with smelly customers, and making Emily not eat cheese slices. Working mostly backwards, and leaving out a lot of things, here's the list:

- Emily and I went on Spring Break 2007 (Woo-oo!) to Pittsburgh. I bet you remember this one, since you were there. There was much merriment, much bar-hopping. Three whole bars in four whole days. We hop slowly. And demonstratively. Emily chronicled the whole thing with her camera, Squinty. (I've named the camera "Squinty." Emily won't know this until she reads this, but I think it's a fitting name and I'm not taking it back.) We ate dinner with you, of course (that's the part you might remember, along with bar number one of the hopping), and went to the Warhol where we had a dance party with some helium- and air-filled balloon/cloud things. Good times. Great oldies.

- I'm designing a set! For a show that will never be put on! It's awesome! There's a big trestle on it. Well, to be honest, it's really a little trestle, since I'm building it out of foam core and paper in 3/8 inch scale, and I'll never see it be any larger except in my head. And I don't know if you've noticed lately, but my head isn't quite large enough to house a 14 1/2 foot high trestle. No, sir. Not a one. (I have no idea what "not a one" has to do with anything, but it seemed like something that should rightly follow a comment like "no, sir." I also have no idea what "rightly" has to do with following.)

- Matt and I went on what I like to call a "snowboarding mini-break" in New Hampshire at the end of February. I've got to say, throwing yourself (okay, myself) down a mountain at high rates of speed is enough to scare the snot out of you. And indeed, if you fall hard enough, and on the right type of hill, and hit the right spot on your body, the snot will fall right out. It's snot-falling fun. Better than the snot, though (and what wouldn't be), was Saturday night at the mountain when they built a big bonfirey type thing where kids could toast marshmallows and get glow necklaces and keep their hands warm. I did all of those things. It was post-beer wonderful.

- I lost a manager when he decided to work at a restaurant. Our assistant manager got promoted and became our manager. For two weeks. Then she left to manage another store. Then, a shift supervisor left to work some swanky job where people buy her food and drink all the time. Then we got another manager. This is all new and different and strange. I fear change in the workplace. Or, more correctly, I fear change because I have some dark, deep-seated belief that no one really knows how to do anything when change occurs. Yeah. That's it.

- Melissa bought a new bed. This has absolutely nothing to do with me, but there's some satin sheets on it that I fell off of.

I'm sure there's more, but I can't remember all of the complaints that I had with everything in between. I do recall that I had a complaint about someone that smells all the time of onions, and I can't for the life of me figure out why he smells like onions, nor why no one has ever pointed it out to him before. It's bizarre. And oniony.

Happy job hunting. Make sure to aim for the big one with antlers.
- Meredith