I just got a call from a very very angry agent about the last minute cancellation of a phone call with my boss and two of her clients, all who make SIGNIFICANTLY more money than I do. She called, not for my boss, but for me. Just to yell at me. There was no point, at no time did she let me speak or offer new times for said phone call. Clearly this woman’s one goal was to yell and prove she’s more important than me. Guess what, lady? The whole world knows you’re more important than me. You have more money, nicer clothes, and are in a position to call people just to use them as yelling sound boards. In the game of life, you win.
But the time will come when one of two things happens. Either one day I will outrank you and make sure to never become someone like you. Or I will never advance, and quit my stupid job, and whenever I regret leaving, I will think of your shrill voice screaming about something that is clearly way above my pay grade and be happy that I don’t have to deal with people like you anymore.
Last night marked the premiere of AMC’s latest endeavor The Killing. Can they do anything wrong? Part Silence of the Lambs, part Twin Peaks, and part The Shield, The Killing is everything I want in a show. And like Breaking Bad, Mad Men, The Walking Dead and Rubicon, AMC excels at keeping genre programming centered with strong characters and beautiful cinematography. Somehow ethereal and amazingly real at the same time, I’ve finally found a new show to watch on Sunday nights. Like most AMC programming, they’re going to rerun the shit out of the pilot and second episode throughout the week, so make sure you watch it. You won’t be disappointed
After news broke that Arizona congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords was shot at an event on Jan. 8, many people, many were issuing criticism to former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin over her past call for supporters to “take aim” at Democrats. Rep. Giffords was one of the Democrats “targeted” by Palin’s campaign.
Perhaps in an effort to combat the criticism, Sarah Palin posted a statement on her Facebook page on the tragic shooting.
The statement reads, “My sincere condolences are offered to the family of Rep. Gabrielle Giffords and the other victims of today’s tragic shooting in Arizona. On behalf of Todd and my family, we all pray for the victims and their families, and for peace and justice.”
The Alaska Republican’s Facebook page once featured a map carrying 20 gun sights, each representing a targeted Democrat by Palin’s committee. She has also tweeted, “Commonsense Conservatives & lovers of America: ‘Don’t Retreat, Instead - RELOAD!”
Palin has previously defended her word choices, saying, “Those are fine. They’re used all the time.”
I know nothing about interviews. Every time I think I’ve nailed it, I don’t get it. Every time I think I bombed, I get a call. I just had an interview and I don’t know one way or another. It was a phone interview and I was on a speaker phone. It was awful. But it may have gone well. I have no idea…
This really old guy, like 124 years old old guy was propped in his wheelchair in a corner of the tv room. Upon seeing me pushing my grandmother down the hall, his face lit up. His hands sprang faster than you would think possible up in the air and with one old callous finger, he started beckoning me to him. After looking around for a way out, I sighed, lowered my head in shame at the semi decent person I’ve become, and walked toward him. He was whispering something under his breath urgently. I cocked my head and put my hands up in a “can’t understand you, sorry old man” kind of a way. He shook his head in frustration and started over from the beginning in a still inaudible level. He moved his finger in the clear “come closer, clooooooooser” fashion that one associates with wicked witches.
I finally bent down closer, hoping that maybe he would be telling me where I could find buried treasure or at least the loads of alcohol that he smuggled and stashed during the prohibition era.
When I got close enough, he grabbed my face with his outstretched hands and kissed me really hard. It was gross and I tried to back away, but he had the strength and persistence of a frat boy.
I finally pried myself free, only to look up and see a gang of nurses laughing their asses off. Old guy:1 Me:0. Never again old man, I’m on to you…
I’ve been tricked three times since I’ve been at the home. Last night was my first night here and after my grandma went to sleep I heard a piercing scream across the hall. I instinctively jumped up and ran out, not cause I’m a good person but cause it sounded like someone was being stabbed in their bed and I wanted to see how far away the culprit was to estimate the time I had to grab my grandmother and run.
However, as I cautiously entered the hallway I heard the same voice scream help. I looked up and down the hallway and there wasn’t a nurse in sight. Now I felt guilty and walked over to the open door and the old woman screamed help again. She saw me in the doorway and beckoned me to her bed. I walked over and leaned down. She screamed help in my face. I told her (loudly cause they’re all old) that I would run and get help. I bolted down the hall with a spring in my step, not only for the speed in which this woman seemed to need help, but also with the newfound sense of heroism that I felt. I was about to save this old ladies life. I was to become the champion of the elderly, protector of the bedridden. I walked up to the nurses station and over to the nurse reading us weekly.
Excuse me, I said, but the woman across the hall from my grandmother needs help. I spoke with equal amounts of concern and a hint of superiority, given that I was clearly more aware of this womans charges more than she. She bolted out of her seat and said which one? with an appropriate sound of concern and embarrassment, clearly at the idea that I now knew her for the fraud/slacker that she was. Room 207 I said, she really needs help. A look of annoyance washed over the womans face as she grabbed her magazine and slammed her huge ass back in the seat. That’s Dolores, she screams like that every night. She doesn’t need anything.
I mumbled something like oh, yeah, thanks then under my breath as I walked away, head held in shame vowing never to be duped by an old woman again.