Twittering, Work, and a General Catch up.

I think the last time I was really regular about keeping a blog was Scotland.  Before that it was the long stint I spent while on crutches (and being Daclaren’s blog buddy, though she far outclasses me!).  Now, I’m so sorry I have to sneak everyone in.

My “tweets” should be appearing on my blog — so if you are ever curious, don’t feel bound by the dates I post, I’m pretty good about getting some kind of 140 character message in, even if it’s to tell Brent Spiner I find his posts amusing, or to try and pimp the Gorn Cannon idea to mythbusters.    I know, according to all the world I’m lame for microblogging, and that’s really just fine with me.

Work has been going nuts, which in my field of work is rather expected.  Duane’s advice to me rings in my head — “You’ll never get a job because things are running smooth.”  And that’s fine.

On the home front, the dogs are doing well.  Darren got my clarinet restored completely, and I got him a banjo.  I’ve decided to follow in Artie Shaw and Benny Goodman’s footsteps, and to learn swing.  To that end, I am ditching the Pomarico Crystal Emerald mouthpiece for a vintage mouthpiece that is ACTUALLY made by the master who also, you got it, helped Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw with such issues.  Of course, the mouthpiece will get here before the reeds, but HEY.  It’s something.

Along those musical lines are two other purchases:  A Didgeridoo, and an Autoharp.  Maybe we can play the Autoclub on the Autoharp!

Interestingly enough ,swing was music that was discouraged by three main people in my life — My clarinet teacher (“You’re so talented at your Mozart”), my band teacher (“Clarinets have no place in jazz band!”), and my grandmother (“go play your Mozart!”).  

So, now I’m going to play my instrument my way!  YAY!

So, some good things to note:

Manny runs a great music shop here in LA to restore instruments:

1507 N Gardner St
Los Angeles, CA 90046

(323) 876-9662
JunkDude is an AWESOME place to buy COOL music instrument accoutrement, and their customer service is unbeatable.  I can’t wait to play my mouthpiece!  
My Twitter, in case you were wondering.
Back to work with me, dear reader!  Notice you are now singular — I do have blog stats 😉 
Just kidding.  I’ve got at least two in my fold!
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Road random

It is raining, and has been since yesterday around noon. Now I am soggy and tired – it’s been a long week! The older I get thr mire amazed I am that I used to have so much energy on a Friday night! Now, it is the day of peak exhaustion!

It’s been a good week – though busy, and I am looking forward to the weekend. Last weekend we watched seasons two and three of doctor who, and who knows what is in store for this weekend! I am sure it will involve a trip to the dog park!

Speakinf of those cute canines, they are doing well. Cujo is liable to start oxytocin related deaths. Cesar seems to abate now and then on his unending lust for the blood of the innocents.

In my constant quest for news of the weird (I always hope there is a zombie apocalypse starting somewhere), I finally started using digg. Thus far it has vastly amused me, and I am sure I will find a way to integrate it into this site (and twitter as well, though you can subscribe to my updates in many formats including text messages, though I can not guarantee the content). I just don’t have the time, and while my blackberry is wondrous, I am not sure of all the functions on mobile wordpress.

Mmm…the weekend is so close I can smell it!

Tgif!

Autobus Animosity

I don’t have a car, so the state of ‘road rage’ is rather impossible for me.  At least when it’s put like that.  I tried to come up with something cute, like “Bus . . . ” something . . . or “Commute . . . ” something, but all I came up with is the stinking title.

I am starting to develop INTENSE rage around my commute.  This morning was a great example — while I was standing on the bus, this woman stood directly behind me and jammed her bag into my back.  Then, she would whip her head around, hitting me with her nasty ass ponytail, while she blathered to some friend of hers.   Everytime she did this, her bag would push me forward, into the bar.  I couldn’t move because, well, there were people everywhere and no, I’m not going to stand on the bus without anything to hold on to.

Eventually I get really pissed off — this is at about ponytail whack #20 and bag bitchslap #15.  I take my headphones out and turn my head.  Since she’s talking to her friend, her ear is about six inches from my face.  And I say “I’m so sorry my back is in the way of your bag, but I want to tell you, IT DOES NOT BEND THAT WAY.” and I stood firm enough where SHE got knocked forward as she jerked away.  She starts moving, of course it’s so crowded she can’t go anywhere and ends up almost taking my arm off with her other bag.  And I say to her “Just where do you think you’re going to go?  Stop pushing me around.”

She froze, thank God, and I managed a block or two unmolested before lots of seats cleared up.

My commute is the number two place for me to have murder fantasies.  I know it’s awful, and no, I would NEVER do it, but boy — when I get someone who insists they get on the train before you get off of it (Come on, people, the driver can see you getting ON — they can’t see the people trying to exit.  What the fuck.  Wait two fucking seconds.  There is NOTHING THAT IMPORTANT that you are going to get done in those two seconds that is going to make you look like less of a jackass, or improve your life any.  Jesus), or steps in front of you, baby on hip, rolling over your foot with their stroller (and why would they bother to apologize?  Of course they don’t!) — when these things happen, my brain starts thinking of grabbing people by their ponytails, shoving my supernice pen in such a way it traps them on the escalator they just HAD to get on in front of me, and watching them get choked to death with the scarf they threw in my face because of course all their SHIT isn’t a part of the area they are taking up, and to think about someone being behind them in Los Angeles  . . . why that is unheard of.

Few other places have I fantasized about murder (other than work) than on my commute — and it’s actually rapidly taking the number one spot.  I mean, at least with my commute I have a wide range of victims at my disposal — killing the same person over and over again . . . meh.

Jen and I had a long discussion about rage in general, and my rage at my commute in particular.  It’s been heightened the last couple of days because of my wonderful employer, but that’s a different story for a different day.  A lot of my rage has to do with the fact that I’m a very, very polite person.  This means that I am absolutely fucked with on my bus journey home.  Jen called courtesy the oil of society — that it makes it run smooth.  So why the hell aren’t people MORE polite the more people are around?  Look, I understand I don’t get to have four feet of personal space anywhere I am in Los Angeles — but why do people have to be so shitty when they are in proximity of each other?  The more I try to be polite and note the lack of politeness in others, the more enraged I become.

I tried to see if anyone else had bus rage, and the first scan of my google search reminded me of our beheading friend from many months ago.  The other big slew of articles dealt with this ad:

Bus Rage Ad Pulled by Greyhound following Canadian Incident[/caption]

Which was apparently pulled by Greyhound following that whole murder / cannibalism thing.

I did uncover this article about a bus driver taking some rage out on a passenger for not having the right change.

There’s lots of information on road rage out there, some of the more entertaining bits being incidences that involve ‘special’ vehicles like a bus or a land mover, but nothing really about bus rage itself.  Except for Greyhound.  God, it’s one thing to think about doing something vs. actually doing it — right?  RIGHT?  Anyway, lots of information on road rage, and even some on “wrap rage” (have kids?  An action figure collection?  Then you know what wrap rage is all about), and even air rage.

But, apparently my malady does have a cute name — “Ride Rage,” though it isn’t used very often.  I did dig up this blog that expresses a lot of my rage at people who don’t think about where their backpack is, or being jammed between two really big people — all that stuff that pisses me off on a daily basis.

So — how am I going to fix it?  I don’t know that I can.  I can just keep my headphones on, tune out, and try to forget what rude fuckers I’m surrounded by.

Just so you know, the newest piece of equipment on the assist is the 8 gig Microsoft Zune.  W00t Zune!  If you’ve got one, I’m under “PubliusEnigma” on the Zune network.

Catch Up

So, October was a busy month, folks, and I am kind of back to my little journal.  A catch-up:

1.  I worked on a yard haunt.

2.  This was my super-bitchin Halloween costume:

From Yard Haunt

3.  My stepdaughter was in town.

4.  My job blew up.

5.  I ate the rest of my excuses (but for one week, little else, because I had the divine experience of fasting!).

What have YOU been up to?  Inquiring minds want to know!