mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- T.G.I.T. (Thank God it's Tuesday) I write that, not because it has happened, but because it would suggest that something exciting has gone on in my life over the past 24-36 hours. So, since I am still sitting -- quite comfortably -- in my apartment right now, trying to figure out what I can write about, I will just leave you with this about my apartment fire: Ok... Here is a little bit of a visualization experiment: Before you go on any further, go look at This Picture. Pay careful care to the door in the back corner. If you don't see it quickly, just keep staring. It'll come to you within a minute. When you see it, come back and leave a message in my message board. Hopefully you'll be as impressed as I was. I hate Tuesdays at work. I work a 40-hour week at work, of course. That puts Tuesday as working hours 29-40, an eleven hour day. My "week" starts on Saturday, and I usually go to work on that day full of energy and optimism. And if you believe that, I have a 10-inch schlong. But by Tuesday, any energy and optimism I did have at work, I no longer have. I'm usually working on little sleep, and it is on this day when I sit behind my control board at work, having to pay close attention to every aspect of the on-air signal to make sure audio levels, video levels, and correct programming are all being broadcast to near perfection. Sound exciting? With today's technology, I don't really have to keep track of audio or video levels. And people back in the Video Tape Room (what we industry insiders call (ready?) "V.T.R.") take care of the correct programming aspect of my job. I basically sit there for 11 hours watching the world's worst programming: Soap operas, the Ananda Lewis show, Judge Joe, ad nausium. On Tuesday, my real job from 5:00am to 4:00pm is to try and stay awake. If you sat and watched me doing my real job, you'd see my eyes wide open, looking at the ceiling, singing stupid songs and making spontaneous re-writes of commercials to make them funny. But then you'd see my eyes winning the competition a bit and I'd doze off for about a minute. Then my falling dream has me hitting a sharp rock at the bottom of the cliff, and I nearly jump out of my chair. I then sit straight up, looking around to see if someone saw the previous minute of my life, then start the whole process over again. For eleven hours. See why I am sick of broadcasting? Today, I came home at 4, made me a bit of a snack, dozed off at 5, and woke up at 2am. Looks like I won't be sleeping any more tonight. I found one of the best songs: "Instant Pleasure" by Rufus Wainright. It's basically about not wanting someone to be caring and loving; you just want the sex. It's a song dedicated towards the real "Friends with benefits." Oh, the dreams and wishes. But it's by Rufus, so it has to be good. But every time I sing it real loudly in my room, I think of how Rufus is gay and he probably thought of something else when he wrote it. Y'know... Reading my diary, you may think I have something against gay people. I don't. One of my oldest, dearest friends is gay, and he has been nothing but truly kind towards me the whole time I have known him. He is very wise, funny, and beautiful. So, I don't want you to think I'm bashing gays. I'm not. I just like the name Rufus. In the ongoing contest, I have already had few linkers. Super kudos to those of you who have linked me, which are: Mariel, a fellow Columbian. Some girl that goes by the name of Minty. The girl wrote a whole entry all about me! Damn, I feel special. Supposedly, she's Finnish. Or Finlandish. Or whatever the hell you call those people. But quoting a Monty Python song, "Finland, Finland, Finland: Finland has it all." So, that's two linkages. I have three grand prizes I am giving away. Link me, baby! Ok. That's it. 2:37 a.m. - Wed., Jan. 16, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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