Saturday, February 28, 2009


Strifemongers, meet Junior. He’s the new Gayle to my Oprah. Or, quite possibly, I’m the new Federline to his Stedman.

Either way, I stumbled across his blog two days ago while Googling Varla Jean Merman, and then I posted a bunch of catty stupid drunken hilarious things in his "comments" section, and he did not call the police instinctively embraced the subtle genius behind my particular brand of comedy.


In the meantime: Junior, you’ll want to get to know Pax. He’s Chief Priest of the cult recently founded in my name, so you guys should probably coordinate on seasonal festivals and such.

Other than that... carry on, my Loyal Strifemongers. Be well, do good work, and keep one finger on the trigger.

(But seriously, read Junior’s blog. He’s the only person who understands the vital importance of RuPaul’s Drag Race as much as I do.)

Friday, February 27, 2009

Quote o' the Moment - Wobbling

"Some people would like to stabilize the [Earth's] core and right the planet's axis. No matter that the planet enjoys its dance, its tilt. Some people, indeed some cultures, have set themselves up in the business of generating planetary stability. To this endeavor the Earth keeps saying, No, just learn to dance with me...

"If your ideal of perfection is changeless, if you imagine an Earth where things stay the same generation after generation--imagine again, for that will never happen. So too, if your goal for yourself is a state of static beingness, you need to change it. All life wobbles on this planet. Wobbles, or dances. As sometimes, when someone bumps into you on the dance floor, you turn to them with anger in your eyes. And sometimes, you turn to them and love stares back, and the bruise on your thigh was all worth it. So with Earth. It smiles, and rubs its hip.

"When you understand fire, you no longer stick your hand in it, you contain it and cook with it. When you understand the wobble, you no longer fear it or hate it, you move with it, use it. And sometimes, when your life is a mess, when you've been in therapy for 57 years and you're still falling in love with the wrong person--stop blaming your parents or yourself. Stop and take a deep breath and say to yourself--I'm living on a world that wobbles on its axis. It has seasons and changes. And sometimes, what seems to be going wrong in my life isn't really a flaw in my nature. It's just that I haven't learned to wobble with the world yet. The Earth laughs at itself. Can you?"

-Andrew Ramer

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Ain't No Valley Low Enough

My HR Director just called: "Come see me right now." This usually means one of two things: Either I've been busted for blogging at work (again), or he's received a spectacularly bad résumé and wants to share the joy with me.

It turned out to be the latter. When I entered his office, HR grinned and handed me a cover letter that began with the standard "To Whom It May Concern," but then...

My travels led me to where I am today. Sometimes these steps have felt painful, difficult, but led me to greater happiness and opportunities. -Diana Ross

That's right, folks. Instead of an introductory paragraph detailing her interest in working with us, the applicant in question expressed her cheerful disposition and ability to shrug off adversity through a Diana Ross quotation.

There are a number of hard and fast rules when it comes to putting together an effective résumé, the first being "Do Not Quote Diana Ross." But I've got a fairly evolved management style, and I firmly believe a strong wrong is always better than a weak right. So if you're determined to quote Diana Ross in a cover letter, just go big. For instance, had our applicant led with the following...

Started my life
In a old, cold, run-down tenament slum (tenement slum)
My father left he never even married mom
I shared the guilt my mama knew
So afraid that others knew I had no name

This love we're contemplatin'
Is worth the pain of waitin'
We'll only end up hatin'
The child we may be creatin'

Love Child
Never meant to be
Love Child
(Scorned by) Society
Love Child
Always second best
Love Child
(Different from) Different from the rest

(Hold on hold on just a little bit longer) Mmmmm baby
(Hold on hold on just a little bit longer) Mmmmm baby

...we would have had no choice but to hire her immediately.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Beware of Inedible Babies

This is why you should only eat organic, free-range babies:

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Intravenous Veritas

My tooth's getting pulled in about two hours, and I'm starting to panic.

I'm not worried about the procedure itself or anything like that. It's just that I say inappropriate things when I'm not being pumped full of giggle juice, and I'm afraid of what's going to come out of my mouth before I pass out.

"Do not talk about being gay," I've been telling myself all morning. "Do not talk about Witchcraft. Do not try to flirt with the surgeon like you did when you had your wisdom teeth removed."

Now, in my defense, that particular surgeon was a beefy ex-football player, so the flirtation was totally justified. Except, you know, we weren't in a bar. And I was kind of strapped to a chair. And I think he was married. But he didn't judge, and that's what's important.

As a side note, I just ran into my dentist (we work in the same building). He was very nice and encouraging and didn't even mention how his nurse flipped out on me yesterday. I'm going to focus on this as a good omen.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

I am not made of money. Or patience. Or teeth.

Here's a fun little life lesson: If you try to get a prescription for Vicodin refilled via your pharmacy's automated phone system, a nurse from your dentist's office will immediately call you and start yelling, "You've taken how much?! This is not good." Even though they were the ones who gave you the pills in the first place and told you to take one every four hours. And it's not your fault that your oral surgeon (who, incidentally, gave you more pills and told you to take two every four hours) doesn't have the time to pop one measly tooth out of your head until mid March.

Fortunately, the nurse will feel bad about her role in attempting to shackle you with a crippling narcotics addicition, so she'll call the oral surgeon's office, strike some kind of shady, underworld deal, then call you back and be all, "Did they say mid March? They meant tomorrow. We didn't realize you were in so much pain." And even though you'll think, "If you didn't realize I was in so much pain, then why the fuck did you put me on Vicodin?" you'll be relieved because this whole freaking ordeal will soon be over.

Except for the part where none of this is covered by your craptastic dental insurance, so you're going to have to max out the credit cards you just finished paying off. They better let you keep the goddamn tooth as a momento.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Arguing against the obvious

From a writing standpoint, the last two weeks have been exceedingly frustrating for me. I've got all this stuff I want to write about, a relevant topic to dissect, a backlog of e-mails to answer, but the words I need to do so are steadfastly refusing to materialize.

I do, however, have this book called The I Ching for Writers, which is designed to jumpstart the creative process through ancient Chinese divination. I don't consult the I-Ching very often, what with the geomancy at my fingertips and all, but I figured it couldn't hurt--and I've certainly tried weirder things to get my literary juices uncongealed. Grabbing a clean sheet of paper, I threw some coins, calculated the results and came up with the hexagram K'un. According to the book's interpretation:

"There is every sign that you are exhausted. Your creative process is dried up, and you and your work are in a time of adversity. It is very important that you take a short rest to recharge yourself. Building your inner strength and being of few words right now is the best way to proceed... If you do not rest, you will fall into using empty words. If you do take a short rest, success awaits."

Well that was entirely unhelpful. And I am not exhausted, thank you very much. So what if the painkillers I'm on fuck with my appetite, and I haven't been sleeping well, and work's got me all stressed out, and I'm tired of staring at drafts of half-written blog entries and waiting for them to finish themselves. That doesn't mean I'm exhausted.

Or, more specifically, I don't need coins and hexagrams pointing out how exhausted I am when what I want to hear is something motivating and inspiring.

Stupid accurate I-Ching. I need a nap.

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Self-Pull-Filling Prophesy

My back molar broke, and I reluctantly went to the dentist, under the assumption that I needed a root canal. Before my appointment, I kept joking that I was going to show up with a pair of pliers and a bottle of whiskey, so that we could take care of it the old-fashioned way.

And then the dentist examined me, decided a root canal would not be in my best interests (something about how I don't really need this particular tooth; I tuned out after he said, "The cavity's almost to the bone line") and had me schedule an appointment with an oral surgeon, who will "sedate" me in order to perform an "extraction."

See? Pliers and whiskey. Can I call things or what?

In the meantime, the dentist gave me a prescription for Vicodin, so I've been in a peaceful, pain-free haze for the past few days. And while I'm enjoying sitting around and listening to all the pretty colors, I can't seem to string more than a couple of coherent sentences together at any given time.

But no worries, Strifemongers, I didn't forget about you: More posts on the whole Wicca abandonment thing will be up as quickly as possible. I just need to wait for the smack to wear off first.