2007-01-03 - 10:49 a.m.
I just can't get "Cut Your Hair" by Pavement out of my head. I wake up with it on repeat. For a few days now. Perhaps we play god to jukeboxes. Perhaps jukeboxes hath been made in our image.
My girlfriend's fascinated by the idea that the nymph character in the newest M. Night guy's movie is called Story. She'd watched the movie the other night and I was reading the back-cover description and said, "I think he's trying to tell us something about how he feels about the power of stories." And she said, "That'd be a good girl's name." And I said, "M. Night Shyamalan?" And she said, "No, Story."
So I write proposals for a healthcare company. A woman I work with, with whom I am a "co-writer" on many proposals, just came back to my desk. She knocked on the cubicle wall, as she always does, too loudly. She is a great big lady. She wobbles and breathes audibly. She's generally nice but is a terrible drag to work with. She sucks energy and is needy like a kid can be, constantly checking with me to make sure something's OK or if what she just did is fine with me.
"So how's this sound as a candidate for the wall of shame?"
We do not have a wall of shame. "What happened?" I asked.
"Somebody wrote 'the guiding tenants of our program...'"
"Can you believe that got through?" she asked.
I really, really can, yes. She has very high standards for pieces of writing that are, actually, pieces of shit. I think she secretly wants these proposals to shine, to sparkle, to win awards. There are no awards for proposals for radiology management programs.
I wish I were brave enough to quit this job.
In the meantime, I'll keep my eyes open. On the day before new year's eve, at the second-to-last night ever at The Talking Head, a friend's band called Deep Cuts played their first gig. They opened with Radiohead's "The Bends," and played the Smashing Pumpkins' "Rhinoceros," and had three guitars for the Zeppelin song "Out on the Tiles." It all felt pretty good.0 comments so far