Happy Anniversary to Me

i celebrated TWO big anniversaries this month, one of which produces money while the other just sucks it out of me. if you guessed the anniversaries of 1) being employed at my current job and 2) buying my house, award yourself 10 points.

i’m still in disbelief that i really have spent five whole years working at my job — a job i was sure i’d hold for just two or three years when i started. i’m glad i stayed, however. by all measures, it is a good job at a good company. i don’t love my work but i don’t hate it either. i like my coworkers alright, but not enough to hang out with them outside of work (with the exception of a select few). i love my boss very much.

at the end of the day, it’s a job. i don’t think about it much on weekends and i never feel compelled to write about it here. it’s neither my dream job nor my nightmare. i’m fairly neutral on the whole thing, which is odd considering that i have strong opinions on pretty much everything else in the world. but i think i’ve managed to compartmentalize my day job as just my day job because i have enough things happening on the side to avoid turning the 40 hours i spend in the office every week into the centerpiece of my life.

still, 40 hours is a lot of time and i probably should be spending it “furthering my goals,” whatever that means. the more i think about it, the more simpler my goals become: to live a comfortable life while surrounded by the people i love and enjoying the things that interest me. thankfully, my current job allows me to do just that (more or less). and though i don’t intend to retire from my company in 30 years, i’m content to float in it for the foreseeable future.

then there is the house anniversary. two years have passed since i closed escrow and began my adventures as a homeowner. if i’ve learned anything at all in that time is that it helps to love your house like a spouse, because when it starts acting up and driving you crazy, the love alone stops you from dousing it in kerosene and setting it on fire for the insurance money.

beyond that, i’ve learned that i actually like being a homeowner. it suits me well. i don’t mind having to pour my paychecks into my house, and i don’t mind being the one responsible when things start breaking down because i know i won’t shortchange my home like a landlord might. i want my house to host my friends and create holiday memories for my family. i find zen in pulling out the weeds in my yard. i love waking up in it every morning and coming home to it every evening. it’s truly my sanctuary.

so happy anniversary, house and job. you are both the wind beneath my wings, the apples of my eye, the springs in my step and, sometimes, the banes of my existence. but mostly, you are lovely backdrops for my days.

Octobered

ever since i returned from my glorious two-week vacation, which i still need to finish chronicling, my days have consisted of work, work and more work, both at the day jobbie and during moonlighting hours. this has left little time for blogging, socializing and spa days, three of my most cherished pastimes. part of me thinks i should begin saying “no” to jobs to regain some of the downtime i so very much miss, but the bigger part of me is a greedy bitch who thinks i have no real reason NOT to hustle.

good news is that i’m making money, none of which i have time to enjoy and all of which is sent out the door as quickly as it comes in to pay down the debt i’ve been complaining about all year. i have set myself a goal that i must meet by the end of December, and as the internet as my witness, i will meet it, maybe exceed it, even if it means work-filled weekends and tired eyes. and then i will get a massage and sleep for three days straight.

when i haven’t been working, i’ve been enjoying oktoberfest-inspired activities like drinking beer and eating finger foods. Mo is very much a microbrew aficionado and for his birthday this year (October 19, mark your calendars), i took him to the kickoff celebration of LA Beer Week, held at our very own local watering hole, the Verdugo, where we entered a raffle to win two tickets to the closing celebration of Beer Week, held at Descanso Gardens. guess what? just guess. ok, i’ll tell you: we won the raffle! and so came a glorious week bookended by beer celebrations that had us sampling some of the best craft brews in the nation. it was pure liquid love. hiccup.

October also held a little travel, both professional and personal. it began with a company-sponsored trip to Washington, DC, for a two-day FINRA conference on advertising regulations — riveting! (no joke) — where i met my fellow compliance brethren and discovered that we really are the most despised department in all financial organizations.

then i went off to a suburb of Baltimore, MD, for a few days to visit my dad’s side of the family. for reasons unknown to me, this trip seemed to turn my father into my mother for a few days, which resulted in him calling me five times a day, every day, to ask if everything was OK. thankfully, it was OK — better than OK in fact. i had a marvelous time drinking, eating and exchanging stories with my cousins, and even got to meet my uncle for the first time in 30 years, an experience that was nothing short of life-affirming.

Maryland is beautiful in the fall, very New England-esque in the way the leaves change color to form clusters of trees that look like rainbows shooting out of the ground. it was a mesmerizing sight, one that had me uttering, “look how beautiful it is” every time i stepped outside, enough times for my cousins to say, “yes, we know how beautiful you think it is. we get it!” i, for one, do not get it enough. the plan is to return to Maryland more often and mostly in the fall. i simply must see more of that foliage.

One Step Closer to World Domination

how’s that for a pompous headline? the other option i was tinkering with was Irons in the Fire, but that wasn’t nearly as descriptive enough because, clearly, i’m so close to dominating the world that i can taste the champagne wishes and caviar dreams that must accompany such a feat.

and when i finalize my conquest, i’m sure Robin Leach will come out of the woodwork to welcome me into the Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous. he’ll be wearing a white leisure suit, like the ones from Miami Vice but designed by Armani, and holding a flute filled with champagne and gluten-free cracker smothered in caviar. beluga only.

actually, i’m not at all close to world domination, but the only way i’ve managed to trudge through all the work that’s overrun my life lately is by tricking myself into thinking that world domination is the reward for all this effort. because paychecks and pats on the head are not enough. at least not when the world is waiting for me to dominate it by putting it on my keychain and spinning it around on my finger.

the workload has been immense, like work-from-morning-to-night-with-no-time-for-a-shower-or-pee-break immense. like plaster-yourself-to-a-chair-and-stare-at-your-computer-until-your-eyes-bleed immense. thankfully, it appears that the most labor-intensive work is behind me, leaving just steady freelance that i can complete comfortably on weeknights and weekends.

but i know that the threat has not entirely passed and there is more crazy ahead. i can see the clusterfuck coalescing like the plot of a bad ben stiller movie, due to hit me again at the end of the month, right around the time i should be getting ready to go on vacation (portland for my cousin’s wedding).

i do desperately miss my downtime, but considering that i had complained about doing a lousy job of Paying Down Debt in an earlier post, i am not complaining about this sudden interest in my services, which have recently expanded into NEW and EXCITING fields that are so NEW and EXCITING that they deserve the caps lock key.

usually, my moonlighting consists of copy editing and proofreading, but lately i’ve branched into doing more copywriting for ad agencies, QA testing for websites and creating inventories of content. i’m even doing sales work for a good friend by helping him pitch his company. i’m finding that flashing a little tit helps with that one.

the end result is one busy me, still struggling with sleep and wanting very much to clone myself lately, tits and all, to help lighten the load. but if there is one bright side to being busy as hell, it’s this newfound focus i haven’t experienced in ages, where i am as sharp and attentive as a hungry hunter going in to kill his prey. because, nowadays, when i have just one hour free in my day to finish something, by god i will finish it in that hour. and i will not even procrastinate with OCD distractions like checking personal email or cruising facebook every ten seconds, something i thought was not possible.

my only hope is that i can maintain this focus forevermore going forward, which may actually be the thing that can bring me one step closer to world domination, but ooooh, look, the sun is catching the mini disco ball i have hanging in the bedroom and covering the walls in light that looks like glitter!!! so cooool!!!! i wish you guys could see it.

The L Word

a few concerned readers (my parents) have asked me how my job situation is and whether the dreaded layoffs my company announced in march have finally occurred. sadly they have not yet occurred, and i use “sadly” here because imagine the anxiety of coming into work for the past two months wondering, “is today the day?”

imagine the whispered conversations with coworkers by the water cooler that go something like, “hey, heard anything?”
“no, have you?”
“no.”
“what do you think is gonna happen?”
“i don’t know. what do you think is gonna happen?”
“i’m not sure either. it’s messed up, man.”
“yeah, it is. but hey, i heard there were leftover donuts in the breakroom.”
“cool, let’s go check it out.”

tragic, right?

imagine the sleepless nights and wild dreams spent worrying about the future. just the other night i dreamed that i walked into work and was intercepted at the elevator by some faceless HR drone with a clipboard who led me into a room where a few dozen of my coworkers were already waiting. it became clear that the drones were leading everyone into different rooms where we would all wait to find out our fate, American Idol style.

through the glass doors, i could see Randy, Paula, Simon and that new judge entering rooms to tell us employees, “sorry, the journey ends here,” or “congratulations, you’ve made it to the next round!” some rooms erupted in cheers, others in wails. then they approached the room i was in and walked through the door in slow motion. i looked around to see whether i was in good or bad company and saw that others were doing the same. it was impossible to tell as there were bad and good seeds (and singers) among us.

a lump gathered in my throat as Paula began to speak. as usual, she seemed drunk, maybe drugged, slurring her words and ribbing on Simon. she even leaned over and squeezed his nipple before throwing her head back and laughing maniacally. confused looks shot all across the room and i looked over at Randy, wishing he would call me his “dawg” like he did during Hollywood Week.

then Paula became serious, steadying herself to finally deliver the news. i could feel myself twitching nervously, a panic overtaking my body as i waited for her to tell me whether i could still pay my mortgage after today. she was about to say it, the words rolling slowly out of her mouth while my heart pounded in my chest.

then i woke up.

The Conversation Chronicles: Sign of the Times

me, answering my cell phone: hello.

some chick: hi, is this milla?

me: yes it is.

some chick: hi, milla. this is Amanda calling [from that agency that sometimes gets you freelance work, but is doing a lousy job of finding you anything lately.] do you have a minute to talk?

me, getting excited about the possibility of new freelance work: SURE! I CAN TALK!

Amanda: great. we’re doing our yearly check-in with all our freelancers and i just wanted to give you a call to see how things were going with you.

me: things are good. i still have my full-time day job, but i’m always looking for proofreading assignments i can work from home on weeknights and weekends. has anything like that opened up?

Amanda: not lately, but i’ll keep an eye out for you. i was also wondering how things were going in your current company, if you guys have any openings you need filled.

me: i doubt that we do. we just had a big round of layoffs so i don’t think they are hiring right now.

Amanda: oh, ok. well, maybe i can add your email to receive our weekly newsletter that has a list of all our available freelancers, and if you hear of any openings that might match the skill sets of the people on the list, you can let me know. does that sound ok?

me: ummm, not really. i don’t work in human resources so i’m not at all responsible for the hirings and firings that go on at my company. i don’t think i can help you with that one.

Amanda: maybe you can forward the newsletter to everyone you know who’s looking for talent. how about that?

me: i don’t know anyone looking for talent. the people i know are all looking for jobs.

Amanda: yeah, i wish we had more we could offer, but business around here has been slow. so if you hear of any opening at all, please let me know, ok?

me: will do, though this is definitely a first. usually i’m the one calling you guys for work, not the other way around.

Failure

as some of you know, i have been a huge fan of Despair.com for many moons and even bought their build-it-yourself calendar, which features 12 of my favorite selections from their “demotivator” line of satirical motivational posters.

the calendar came my way via a gift certificate given to me for christmas by my beyond fantastic boss, who (thankfully!) totally gets me. for this i am endlessly grateful, as it makes our working relationship a virtually perfect one.

the print to the left is probably my absolute favorite demotivator (this one’s pretty good, too), and when i flipped my calendar to March and saw FAILURE staring at me in big green letters, a huge smile crossed my face. i then ran over to my boss’ office and told her that the word of the month is “failure” and that we both had to slide it into office conversations as much as possible.

as much as i love these posters, i’m totally jealous i didn’t come up with the idea for them first, as they perfectly sum up my sense of humor, and my life.

Shitty

if this blog is good for anything, it’s good for keeping a tally of when i’m actually right about things. and right there in my Annual entry, immortalized in 10-point arial font is my prediction that 2009 will be a shitty year. granted, it’s not living-on-the-streets-in-a-cardboard-box-eating-out-of-trash-cans shitty, but allow me some creative license here and rest assured that each time i enter into woe-is-me mode i do remind myself that i could be stuck in Ukraine, growing a tail from the Chernobyl explosion.

despite the fact that i have no such gangly tail growing — which seems sorta cool the more i think about it — 2009 has started rough. admittedly, the roughness has hit others more than it has hit me, but because i am a sensitive soul who feels every discomfort in the universe, i’m bummed about it, too.

it all began when my mom got laid off from her job as a mechanical engineer. technically, it was a forced leave of absence (unpaid), so she may be rehired, though i think that’s doubtful considering her company has not invited back the first group that was forced out. needless to say, she’s been sad beyond sad, as she’s spent 15 years with her company, loving on her work and her colleagues. plus, my superstar mom was always the primary moneymaker for the family, so the elimination of her paycheck sucks harder than it would if my pops were laid off.

a week and a half later, my pops was laid off. shit squared. this was a surprise as his company still seemed busy while my mom’s had all but shut down operations. so now both mom and dad are out of work, just years shy of retiring, their savings eroded by last year’s market implosion, their hopes dashed for a comfortable retirement.

i visited them as soon as i found out, took them to lunch and helped with their resumes like a good daughter would have, all the while feeling guilty as shit for the money i owe them, money they could use right about now, money i cannot yet repay. to assuage my guilt, i brought them some food, some flowers and did all i could to cheer them up while they sat sullen, shocked and unamused. finally, i offered to give them all the money i had in my account, but they refused like the good parents they are, reminding me that their 40 years in the workplace has made their account slightly more robust than mine. “hang onto your cash, Meel,” my mom said as she clipped coupons at the kitchen table. “you might need it this year.”

two weeks later, my company had its own round of layoffs, which wasn’t a huge surprise as there were hints galore that cuts were on their way. the day of the layoff felt like an eight-hour funeral, with people huddled in corners, speaking in hushed tones, and wearing darker colors despite the 80-degree weather outside. the good news is that i escaped unscathed (this time), though 500 of my coworkers did not.

there were large meetings held, where the big cheeses sat at the head of a very long conference table, promising nothing about the future. i’ve already been told not to expect much of a raise this year, nor is the profit-sharing bonus my company doles out each June likely considering we made no profits last year.

sorry, Mom and Dad. that raise and bonus were earmarked for your pocket. i guess we’ll all be clipping coupons together at the kitchen table this year. sorry, laid-off coworkers. that totally sucks. i know i’m the lucky one in all this and i don’t take that fact for granted, not even for one second. and i still have hope for 2009. with 11 months to go, it has plenty of time to make up for the shit storm of the past five weeks.

(p.s. i’ve been hustling like a whore in church to find extra freelance work, so if anyone knows/needs help with proofreading/copyediting/copywriting, email me asap! reasonable rates! fast turnaround! references provided! thanks!)

The New Gig

i’m two weeks into the new jobby now. i’m still with the same company, just moved over into a totally different department to do totally different work. the move was less than smooth but a long time in the making. i knew about it for six months and tried to make the transition sooner, but my old department — which was swamped with work, much of which they wanted me to complete — lined the road with hoops of fire.

i got the tap on the shoulder last christmas; new department called and said, “hey, we’re creating a new position here. maybe you can fill it.” it’s weird because i wasn’t unhappy in my old role or even looking for something new, but i knew i would take it immediately, despite feigning cucumber coolness at that first phone call, which i ended with, “i’ll think about it.”

it seemed like divine intervention, like the faeries floated out of the trees and said, “hey you, girl — the girl with the confused look on her face and pimple on her nose. yes, YOU. in addition to the house you’re about to get and old boyfriend you just reconciled with, you’ll be starting a new job in the summer. get ready.”

it should have seemed like too much to take on at once, but the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. things had become too steady, too built. i could feel the restlessness thrashing around inside me, screaming “i’m bored! i’m bored!” and here came the opportunity to tear it all down and rebuild.

i had been doing my old job for three years. in case you missed it, my old job was working as a copy editor for my company’s website, a website that helps facilitate the selling of mutual funds. it’s ok to be jealous. i know it’s the sexiest work around. i know this because when i’m at a dinner party with new people who ask me what i do for a living and i say, “i’m a finance editor,” their eyes glaze over with jealousy. then they turn their backs on me, probably after concluding that i’m the coolest person in the room and they’re too intimidated to talk to me. then they walk away.

i can’t wait to see their reaction when i tell them that i work for my company’s compliance department. they will surely turn green with envy. and what of this new department? well so far, i love it. the team i’m working on is much smaller than the web team i used to be part of, and that’s a better environment for me. i’m pretty much working with just three other women, all of whom i get along with splendidly. so splendid that our periods have already synchronized.

the job is slower paced, i’m in fewer meetings, and i have greater autonomy in my work, some of which involves maintaining my company’s internal compliance website, which means all the tech classes i’ve taken in the past will finally pay off. the only thing i miss about my old job are the very nice people i’ve become buddies with over the last three years but there’s plenty of opportunities to gossip with them over lunch.

new job also means i’m taking the metro to work three days out of the week. i’m still abnormally excited by this. to prepare for my new adventures as a Gold Line commuter, i bought the most excellent ergonomic backpack and loaded my new iPod touch full of music. on day one at the train station, i put the iPod on shuffle and plugged the earbuds into my head just as the train approached and U2’s “The Fly” came on. that’s my most favorite U2 song.

as i stepped onto the train in search of a seat, scanning the faces of my fellow Angelinos and with this crazy guitar riff blasting in my ears, i felt this strange rush overtake me, complete with tingles in my head and goose pimples on my arms. it was surreal, like a scene in a movie, where i looked around and wondered, “am i still in LA because this feels totally foreign?” but yes, i was still in LA and loving on it.

i wanted to share my excitement with the other commuters, maybe go around the train offering hugs, but they looked far less ecstatic to be there. in fact, they looked downright bored, like they had been riding the train for years and would rather be sitting in an air-conditioned car, while i sat near them with a stupid grin on my face, listening to Bono’s falsetto sing “Love, we shine like a burning star falling through the sky.”

Everything Else

when i haven’t been busy loving on the house, working on the house or living in the house, i’ve been doing other stuff. not much other stuff, though, as the house remains the centerpiece of most waking moments. but when it’s not, i’ve been spending time doing much exploring of my new neighborhood, which i’ll get to at a later post and which entails the eating of much mexican food. it also entails getting lost constantly and following streets until they dead-end into hillsides — a common feature in highland park. then there’s the trips to ikea, home depot, lowes, Micky Mouse Hardware, and there i go talking about the house again. let me try to stay focused with some bullet points:

• i saw Duran Duran in concert a few weeks ago, which made me very, very happy since i loves me some Hungry Like the Wolf. i’ve seen them before, numerous times in fact and, as always, their performance was beyond superb and made me scream like the 14-year-old girl i truly am inside. but unlike the 14-year-old girl i used to be, who would spend hours by the backstage door hoping to catch a glimpse of my soul mate, bassist john taylor, i went home right after the sunday-night show, humming New Moon on Monday during the drive home.
  


• i took the Gold Line to work the other week — and was probably a little too excited by it. it was an exhilarating experience, one i never thought i’d have in this fair city of mine, where car culture is the only culture outside of the yogurt. but there i was making the 10-minute drive to the train station, where i parked my car and hopped aboard the choo-choo — dumb smile on my face, my love for los angeles overflowing — and sat among the other commuters navigating their way into downtown LA for the workday. one trip did the trick, so starting in july i’ll be going metro to work three out of five days. this means a company-paid metro card, the $50/month parking fee my work charges waived, and savings galore on gas.
  


• speaking of work, i’m starting a new job at my company in july. i’m not sure what i can say about it here other than it’s different from the work i’ve been doing as a financial editor, though not entirely different. i’ll still be making edits to copy, but whereas before when i would review copy and then send it to my company’s Compliance department for rubber-stamping, i’ll now be on the Compliance side doing the rubber-stamping. the job is rooted in the legal department and will have me interpreting all sorts of sexy FINRA guidelines, like how regulatory disclosures should be presented in sales materials. HOT!
  


• i spent a few days in beautiful El Segundo taking a course on Cascading Style Sheets (CSS), which are complicated as a mother fucker to learn. the course was the complement to the HTML course i took last year in Costa Mesa, which was also complicated. i’m sure it could all make sense with a little practice, maybe a lot of practice, but three days of having the nuances of a programming language thrown at me overwhelmed me enough to conclude that i am just too stupid to learn this stuff.
  


• i saw the SATC movie, which i enjoyed immensely as it felt like a long, new episode of the show and was made better by the fact that i caught one of the SATC T-shirts the ushers threw into the crowd before the film started. i got some serious mad-dog glares from the girls surrounding me when i nabbed it and worried that those bitches would jump me in the parking lot after the show, but they kept their distance after i told them that i knew kung fu. (i don’t know kung fu.) the shirt reads “I ♥ New York,” which is funny because i don’t ♥ New York all that much. i ♥ LA infinitely more, especially after that train ride.

Happs

man, oh manischewitz. this year has started with quite a flurry. i wish i could say i’ve been doing all this cool and amazing shit, like dining with the queen of england, that has prevented me from posting, but truth is i’ve just been working like a jerking.

i must be suicidal or very, very greedy because i cannot seem to say no to a paycheck. january dropped three new freelance projects in my lap and of course i said yes to everything despite their overlapping deadlines. but in the spirit of keeping my eye on the prize, i’ve vowed to work hard and do everything i must to secure my mythical kingdom. (queendom?)

yes, house hunting still. no, no news yet — at least none that my jewish superstitions would allow me to share. there are rumblings here and there, as there have been since the start, but i’m getting better about remaining detached. i’m not falling helplessly in love with houses so much anymore and i’m trying not to allow the process to frustrate me. i’m sure my new attitude has frustrated those around me, however, who’d like me to extrapolate on the “i’ll think about it and let you know” response that i seem to be saying too often nowadays — complete with the too-cool-to-care shoulder shrug.

it’s not that i’m suddenly unconcerned about where i’ll end up living, i’m just trying to replace the stress with faith — faith that i’ll find the right thing, that i’ll know it when i see it, that i won’t need to go and “think” about it too much. it will happen because it has to happen. and if it doesn’t happen, then i will murder my agent, broker and anyone else who’s been working so hard to make money off of me. just kidding! if it doesn’t happen, then it wasn’t meant to happen. i read that in a book somewhere.

what’s nice is that one of my current freelance projects has me proofing a carpentry textbook, which i’m sure i’ve mentioned before. it couldn’t have come at a better time and has provided quite the education on house construction. not that i can get a miter saw and some plywood and construct my dream house suddenly, but at least i now know what a miter saw is. i’ve also learned why sloped roofs are better than flat ones and that carpentry involves a lot of scary geometry.

speaking of scary, my other project has me proofing a scan of a Stephen King novel. the novel is The Mist and it’s scaring the bejezuz out of me and making all the ominous rain clouds currently rolling through Los Angeles look mighty unnerving. in the book, the mist is full of creepy, crawly, flesh-eating insects that can decapitate you with their juices. not fun. now when i kiss the puppies goodnight before bed, i find myself telling them not to pee on the floor and to stay out of the mist.

oh yes, the puppies! yay for them! Pinko has turned super duper in the past few months. she’s far more affectionate and relaxed than she was in the beginning, and she’s even managing to separate herself from Juice’s side for more than two paces at a time, which is a breakthrough. i’ll post some photos for y’all to barf at soon.

The Busies Continued

work is insane lately. like loony bin, nuthouse, certifiably, committably, need medication for life insane. in my brilliance, i overlooked the fact that i might need to sleep now and then and picked up another freelance gig that has me editing a two-volume book on cinematographers. as with most things, it sounds cooler than it is and it’s whittled my free time down to zero.

but i signed myself up and i’m the type of gal who keeps her commitments. trust me on that point. don’t listen to my friends, who’d likely tell you that i’ve been LA flaking on them left and right. don’t mind the stack of unopened mail on my desk or myriad unanswered messages in my inbox, i get my shit done.

and after i’m done with the cinematographers, i have the carpentry book to keep me warm through the holiday season. and after that i’m hopeful for a seasonal slowdown that will afford me time to visit with the peoples and spend some of the cash i’ve been working so hard for. currently, it’s all been going toward the pay-off-your-damn-car-already fund, but mama needs a new iPod and some microderm.

mama also needs to update this blog more often. i’m sitting on a few stories i’ve been meaning to share about my attendance of open houses downtown and the annual copy editor forum and about my trip to chicago. bear with me. they’re coming. but for now i’m going. work beckons.

Disinfection

recovery has finally made an appearance on the horizon. i can almost taste it. and thankfully it doesn’t taste like a lugee. it tastes more like an ionic breeze, slightly metallic but clean, like distilled water.

also good is that the source of my sickness has been identified. i think this is one of those few occasions where the phrase “i’m allergic to work” can be used both literally and figuratively. ok, it’s a weak pun but let me claim my small victories. i’m still sick. cough cough.

but seriously, i am allergic to my workplace. i guess the bright aura i’ve credited myself with having lately was really a radioactive glow. my mistake for not noticing sooner. what i did notice was that i got sick soon after i moved floors at work in mid-may. i moved to a floor undergoing construction, and although the affected areas are neatly taped off and away from worker bees like myself, those allergens jumped the fence and burrowed into my lungs, causing the bronchitis. cute aryan doctor pieced this together when i mentioned the move, the construction, and that other peeps on the floor have also developed coughs.

he also cautioned that i’ve been bringing the allergens home, as they’re the clingy types that have attached to my clothes and hair, meaning they’re in my house and car, meaning that i need to disinfect pretty much everything in my possession. but here’s the best part: guess where the allergens are most concentrated? wait for it, wait for it.

my bed! awesome, right? guess that will teach me to hang up my clothes every day. at least i finally have an explanation for why i always felt more miserable after crawling into bed to rest. and it’s also nice to have finally isolated the cause of the hives.

yeah, the hives. they’ve popped up several times already, always in the middle of the night. it’s a fun little panic to awaken to. at first, i attributed their appearance to a new marinade, but when they refused to relent long after the marinade had passed through my system, all blame landed on these allergens.

so now i disinfect. the comforter has been dry-cleaned, the mattress febreezed and vacuumed, the sheets boiled, and an air purifier — yes, the Ionic Breeze from Sharper Image — is doing the rest. workwise, my supervisors have kindly agreed to my request to be moved off the floor until construction ends. and no, i’m not suing.

but i am still disinfecting. i have the sanitizing wipes attached to my sleeve so if i see you and insist on wiping you down with bleach before giving you a hug hello, you know why.

Work Matters

been two years now that i’ve worked at the ole jobby. and as a happy reminder of that fact, my boss sat me down for my annual review, which was a lovely occasion that rivaled last year’s good-vibes review, with a few differences. i have a new boss now, my third in two years and most likely my favorite. i also had more reasons to smile this year as i was awarded a hefty raise and a promotion that adds the word “senior” before my job title. new boss kindly threw some pleasant adjectives my way to describe my work performance — though i’m still baffled by the idea that i’m “organized”— before topping it off with a performance of the other MC Hammer favorite: 2 Legit 2 Quit.

been busy lately at the old jobby, too. a few new projects have come my way after i completed a semi-sizable project where i was the spearhead. it was largely a positive experience, leading this project, giving me a nice confidence boost and a few kudos from my peers and superiors. and though i did it and was all “yay, me” once it ended, i couldn’t have been more disinterested in the topic: Expense Ratios.

it’s a constant struggle for me, working in an industry without a strong human factor. i prefer industries centered around people and their stories, not mutual funds and their underlying holdings. most days the content bores me until my eyes bleed. and unfortunately, this cancels out one of the reasons i decided to pursue a career as an editor — so i could learn more by reading all day. and while i have learned plenty about the wonderful world of finance, i’m not inspired by it. sure, i’ve become a more savvy investor, and certainly a greedier one, but i don’t jump out of bed enthusiastically when my alarm goes off to check data on mutual fund performance.

despite the material, i do like the environment in which i work. it’s cooperative, not competitive, and my coworkers are impressive, smart people who make my job much easier. true, i don’t ever care to see them outside of scheduled work hours, but that’s not because they suck — it’s because i’d rather spend that time seeing my friends and family instead. and the company i work for cannot be beat. it truly values its employees and rewards us constantly with everything from free food and concert tickets to incredible health care on the cheap.

it’s quite the quandary of dull work vs. great everything else. i’m not sure how much i would enjoy the flipside of engaging work in an unsupportive environment. i’ve worked for enough shitty bosses and crap companies to know i have it good at my job. the trick, i’m finally realizing, is to come to work every day with an eye on the good, do what i need to do (and do it well), collect my paycheck and go about enjoying my free time.

it might not be the rock star lifestyle i envisioned myself living, but it will have to do until a more appealing alternative comes along.

Nickels & Dimes

if i had a nickel for every time someone told me to exercise caution in what i post here because it might catch up with me at my day job, i could cobble together about thirty cents. yeah, i think i’ve heard that advice about six times. i refuse to heed it and heel to it, however, cus i’m a wild and crazy nonconformist. with a day job. working in finance. corporate as it comes.

i know some work peeps have found this thing and commented to me about it. for all i know, more could be reading -- perhaps during work hours! -- and i could not care less. this is the internet. it’s the most public of spheres, and i’m well aware that anyone can see this. so don’t go telling me to be careful about sharing racy details about my life when i’ve never once mentioned the name of the company i work for nor have i discussed work matters here. keeping this thing going for three years has already required plenty of self-censorship and has turned me into a person with very little shame. and who the hell wants to read a sanitized version of history, with all its wars and famines and struggles omitted? yeah, yeah. i’m all about keeping it real. word to your mother.

march 14 makes one year that i’ve been with my current job and to commemorate the occasion, my boss kindly sat me down and gave me my annual review. seems just like yesterday i was asking the world to congratulate me on my hiring. i definitely made the right choice by taking this job. it’s done much in this past year to get me situated and stable. and, more importantly, it’s allowed me to splurge on new couches, cookware, an iBook, lots of clothes and other assorted goodies.

i love the expression, “work like you don’t need the money.” what bullshit! because if i didn’t need the money, i might stroll in at noon and put my feet up while i used my office line to make long distance phone calls. that’s “working” like you don’t need the money. i work like i need to pay my rent. i work because i prefer lobster to canned tuna. a girl’s gotta eat, and when she’s a single mother of a dog with bad hips, she works because she has to, not because she wants to. with that in mind, i don’t LOVE my job, but i do LIKE it, and that’s enough to keep me there indefinitely.

but back to the review... i was expecting the worst because i’ve spent years conditioning myself to be fatalistic. i walked in a bit nervous and jittery, eager to get to the “merit increase” portion of the program. my boss started by thanking me for the great contribution i’ve made to the company in the past year. i perked up and smiled. he then went on with more thanks and gratitude, talking about my great reputation as someone people like working with because i’m reliable and organized (what? me, organized?!), and that i’ve proved myself to be a quick learner and general badass adored by fans worldwide. then the lights dimmed and he broke into an oddly groovy rendition of m.c. hammer’s “U Can’t Touch This” while i bopped my head approvingly to the beat. even his corporate slacks expanded into parachute pants for the moment.

ok, i’m embellishing that last part, but it had that same feel-good vibe going on. and the feeling good didn’t stop as he told me lots of nice things other people said about me before he announced the smile-inducing percentage that described my merit increase, which is reflected in my next paycheck. the only disappointing part in the litany of lovely adjectives he used to describe me as an employee -- dedicated, hard-working, dependable, diplomatic, good listener -- is that neither he nor anyone else thought i was “funny” or had a “great sense of humor.” i mean, what the fuck?

then we get to the tricky “areas for improvement” portion of the program and i thought to myself, “here it comes.” but that still turned out well, with general suggestions for learning the industry better and becoming a resource to others. and here i was expecting the “we’ve noticed that you don’t ask others about how their weekends went” and “you seem to arrive 10 minutes late every day but still leave at five on the dot.” but nope, only the good stuff.

by the end of it, i’m sure a blush had crossed my face. compliments embarrass me, despite how badly i want to hear them. he ended it by saying, “you fit in so well here. you’re really one of us.” come again? have i joined a corporate circus? how can i be one of them when i’m supposed to be a racy nonconformist? i have my nose pierced, for god’s sake. i was taken aback, but still managed to utter “thank you” through a gritted smile as i left his office.

then it hit me: i’ve morphed into a good employee, the corporate schlub i feared turning into. one step closer to becoming my parents. i have a retirement account with my name on it. i have weekly work meetings i must attend and “action items” i must complete. sometimes the monotony of my days underwhelms me to the point where i feel like stowing myself in the stern of a ship and sailing into a new existence. other times the predictability pleases me immensely.

i don’t mind the real world so much, but the responsibilities of adulthood can be suffocating. turning 30 in june only compounds the matter. oy, these growing pains. a vestige of my once carefree youth would be welcome right about now. on second thought, i think i’d rather have a new car.

To Edit

a few weeks ago i went to a copy editor conference near the airport. i don't know why it's worth mentioning that it was near the airport, but it was near the airport even though no one flew in for it. all the attendees were local copy editors like me, with a handful from orange county (which may as well be China if you live in LA).

the point is that it was a copy editor conference which is curious for a number of reasons. first off, copy editors don't really need a conference -- a fact that made my attendance mandatory. you see, we are a static industry. a semicolon by any other name will still serve the same purpose. the few yearly updates on usage and terminology can be found in the latest edition of whichever style bible we subscribe to. in my case, that would the very cutting-edge AP Stylebook. secondly, we are rarely allowed away from our desks/out of our cages for fear that a wayward comma might sneak into otherwise clean copy. our bosses usually love us dearly and know that no one could do our jobs or, for that matter, would want to do our jobs in our absence. and that's always my most favorite thing to hear from people -- "eww. at work all day you sit around looking for errors in the things you read? i could never do that. it would drive me crazy."

yes indeed, it sometimes drives me crazy. on certain days, it makes my eyes bleed. but on most days, i friggin love it. i really do. i can get a serious hard-on from taking a white page with 12-point, times new roman font and marking it up silly with my red pen. it's a satisfaction that rivals orgasm, like "who's your momma, bitch?" we all want to be the authority on something, and copy editing gives me the ultimate power of the pen, which provides a great veto power. (unless you have to work with pain-in-the-ass writers who think you're worthless because you're correcting their copy, which they think is so damn flawless even though it's crap. but if you got a writer who's open, it's cool.)

it's a glamorous profession, i tell ya. but i should also tell ya that while i'm a fabulous editor, i am a horrible grammarian. i couldn't tell ya why or how a modifier dangles, only that it does dangle like that fleshy, dangling thing in the back of your mouth (also known as an 'uvula.') i also couldn't make a strong case for splitting infinitives or explain the difference between comparatives and superlatives, because i don't know what those things are. all i know is what sounds right to me and that intuition has helped me fake a career in copy editing for the past ten years. but it's always nice to match labels with instincts so i looked forward to this conference as an opportunity to deepen my understanding of my own skill set, which at times feels foreign to me.

unfortunately, that didn't happen at this conference, as i found the instructor pompous and the material remedial. plus, i left early and had my usual bad attitude going on. i did, however, learn a handful of interesting things worth sharing and here they are:

-- writing is full of awful redundencies, so think again before you use the terms: 'lone gunman,' 'safe haven,' and 'whether or not.'
-- 'cement' is wet; 'concrete' is dry.
-- a 'dove' is a beautiful, white bird; use 'dived' as the past tense of 'dive.'
-- 'between' compares two things, while 'among' generally refers to more than two.
-- 'oral' concerns the mouth; 'verbal' deals with words.
-- an 'initialism' is a term like TLC and FBI, where each of the letters is spoken as a letter; an 'acronym' is pronounceable as a word, like NAFTA or NASA.
-- 'begging the question' is actually a term for philosophers that assumes that the premise of an argument assumes the very thing the argument is trying to prove. for example, the question "Have you stopped taking bribes?" begs the questions because the speaker assumes the person was taking bribes. most people use this term when they really mean 'raise the question.'
-- the difference between farther and further can be remembered with this handy mnemonic: the 'a' in 'farther' refers to 'actual' distance; further refers to figurative distance.
-- you 'convince' people of your viewpoint before 'persuading' them into action.
-- the road is 'winding'; the wind is 'windy.'
-- don't ever use 'ironic' when you mean 'coincidental' even though every one else does.

i'll confess that i never even heard the term 'initialism' before attending the conference, so that knowledge alone might have been worth the $12 all-day parking fee at the airport Marriott. i still cannot explain the difference between nonrestrictive and restrictive clauses -- the key to the exciting 'that' vs. 'which' debate -- but maybe next year i'll sit through the whole thing.

i did, however, adore my fellow attendees. all these bookish hair-splitters sitting around celebrating their anal retentiveness. and me, the rebel librarian, with her nose piercing and funky purple shirt. but never did i feel out of place. the whole scene reminded me of that Blind Melon video from several years back, with the girl dancing around in a bee outfit. at first, everyone looks at her askew, but she knows the secret -- she's not crazy, just misunderstood. and that's what copy editors feel like sometimes: dancing bees with bent antennae. writers may hate to hear our buzz, but we turn their crappy copy into golden honey. we make it digestible and sweet.

so it was a blessing to find this conference. it was like entering that park in the video, the one with the tall green grass where other dancers dressed like bees buzz freely and dance without shame. it was awesome to be able to turn to the person beside you and say, "don't you hate it when people say 'the man that' instead of 'the man who'?" only the hear the person say, "oh, i know! that drives me crazy, too. but what's worse is when people confuse 'your' and 'you're.'"

the shame, the shame, people -- and you know who you are.

The Accidental Employee/Psychic

when i haven't been taking pictures lately, i've been working -- A LOT. not sure what happened to change the flavor of my job so drastically. perhaps my coworkers noticed that i was twiddling thumbs and surfing the net most of the day or maybe they saw my untapped genius, because now my nose has been put to the grindstone. i'm now immersed in this crazy project my team at work has to deliver. it's a great 'office space' story: impossible deadlines imposed by the big cheeses upstairs who have no idea how much work is involved in a project of this scope, undermanned and overburdened employees, and oh, make sure the end result is flawless because we work in finance and managing other people's money is serious business.

so suddenly my boss came to me and said, "milla, we need you to do production on this project." i wasn't even sure what that meant, but of course i agreed, because the new girl needs to be the can-do girl. so now i'm doing production (whatever that is) in addition to my usual job as an editor -- two jobs, party people. and still only one salary. the result is one-stressed out new girl. now i'm running meetings and putting together documents, working in spreadsheets. it's, like, a real job and stuff. the good news is that i haven't fucked up (yet), but each day presents another opportunity for it. some days it's like walking into a shit storm. sometimes all at once, my phone will be ringing, email is pinging, people walking into my office, and pages i need to grab off the printer before running into another meeting where i should be saying something meaningful. many times i've felt ready to jump out that 49th floor window. it's overwhelming, exhausting and thoroughly gratifying.

after all this effort, i feel fully invested in seeing this project through to completion. i'm onboard, man. i love my team; we bond by commiserating. and with my responsibilities more varied, my work has become more creative. i get to do some problem-solving, brainstorming and other fun corporate things. the flipside is feeling rundown, putting in overtime and having panicky dreams about work. and this will probably last well into the fall, which is when the project is due (provided we make our deadline).

when all this madness began a few weeks ago, i had been toying with the idea of taking a class. i asked myself, what have i always wanted to learn? it was clear: the tarot -- cus i'm a metaphysical bitch like that. i had studied the tarot on my own a few years back so i'm familiar with the cards and the practice, but i knew only a class could drive it all home. so i did a little web search and found a dude in LA who teaches the tarot to small groups out of his house in hollywood.

i had to miss the first week's lesson because of my new york trip, so the teacher met with me separately to go over what was covered during that week. (lesson one, aptly, was about The Fool card.) i hit it off with Craig right away and spent a good while talking to him about life, spirituality, purpose, etc. i found him to be very terrific and knew i would take much away from the class, which i have. but don't all start bugging me about a reading just yet. i've only been to 3 out of 12 classes, so i'm far from being a pro. (plus, i already have a throng of other peeps who've been baggering me for a reading, so they get first dibs.)

toward the end of lesson one, and after our great conversation and review of The Fool, he asks me to draw a card. we start and end each lesson by drawing cards, which signify the flavor of our energy at that time. i'm shuffling my cards before i draw one and casually joke, "watch me draw The Tower," the card of destruction and catastrophe. that card has always startled me, as it depicts this brick tower on fire, flames shooting out its windows.

what card do i draw? The Tower. no shit. "wow," Craig says, "look how powerful you are." great, i think to myself, my misfortune is the result of a self-fulfilling prophecy. stranger still is that this has happened before -- many times, in fact. i'll think of a card and then draw it from the deck. during our last lesson, i drew the same card both at the beginning and end of class. that was last thursday when i was especially stressed over work. the card was the Four of Swords, the card of hermitism and repose. i figured i should use the weekend to take it easy, but after the universe told me twice in one night that i really needed to take it easy, i knew i had to listen.

that's really what the tarot does. it doesn't reveal the mysteries of one's life because, truthfully, life really isn't all that mysterious. it simply tells you what you already know but are reluctant to admit. it can often reinforce the obvious. and what's obvious is that humans are willful creatures with psychic energies in play. the position of cosmic elements like the moon and sun affects these energies. consider how the moon affects the tides and imagine what it does to the water in your body. if you study astrology -- and true astrology, not those lame daily horoscopes that don't amount to much -- you'll see that it's a science like any other, with rules, contingencies and proven results that are supported by history.

having said that, i don't belive that astrology and tarot are the ultimate gospel. because we are willful creatures, we are the ultimate gospel for our own lives. not everything is predetermined or 'written in the stars.' that's far too passive an approach. g-d's will is our will. those cosmic elements and psychic energies exist, absolutely, but our actions and reactions to them are our own doing. hopefully we'll react the way we should, so we can keep evolving as individuals, but sometimes you have to learn the same lesson twice. and sometimes you'll never learn it despite how many times the universe tries to teach it to you.

and that's what the tarot has begun teaching me -- to listen intently and patiently. it's a spiritual study. the cards are ordered and tell the story of a life's journey, with all its pitfalls, truimphs and lessons. it's highly relatable, leading to one ultimate truth: the answers are already out there and will reveal themselves in due time. certainly i had heard this concept before, but i never truly subscribed to it because i didn't have the patience. i was too busy rushing through life, pushing through each experience in a frenzy. though i'm still far from being cured of my restlessness, i'm rooting more into the present without becoming overly attached to it (if that makes sense). i'm trying to stay centered and nonjudgmental. i'm planning on doing more yoga and meditation.

soon, you'll find me on the mountaintop sitting in the lotus position, all zenlike, and with a big buddha belly you can rub for good luck. i shall say to you in a strange asian accent, "worry not, young grasshopper, for your time will come." you will roll your eyes at me and say, "milla, get over yourself. let's go to the bar and have a drink." and i will get up and follow.

Massaging the Noggin

my brain's been in overdrive lately. good to know it still works. i don't think i've used it much since i finished school last may. can't believe that was almost a year ago. it's been, arguably, my longest hiatus from strenuous brain activity. (or perhaps the four years i spent working for the man between schoolings was the longest?) it seems so easy to allow your mind to atrophy when there's no upcoming exam to measure your new knowledge. and as someone who is inherently lazy, i relied on exams to keep my nose in books. without them, my nose has a tendency to wander with my unfocused, ADD-riddled spirit. they'll just meander around town, hand in hand, hoping to be captivated by something. under the best circumstances, they'll find adventure and intruige and form some half-baked ideas. but eventually -- restlessness, uncertainty, self-doubt. it's the same cyclical story.

but i digress (as all free spirits do). apparently, my brain isn't entirely lubed up and ready to go. it's still (re)acclimating to its newfound focus. it's had plenty of practice in the past few weeks, having been bombarded with all sorts of data. though many would be surprised to hear it, the fascinating world of finance can be quite fascinating. i'm learning up a storm at work about mutual funds, the markets and economics. i'm starting to read the business section daily. i'm starting to understand terms like "market capitalization" and "net asset value." pop quiz: what's the difference between between securities, treasuries and equities?

appropriately, aiding me in my new cerebral pursuit is "mutual funds for dummies." what a five-star read! no, not really, but it's helped buckets. and all this new exposure to finance has gotten me very concerned about my own finances, which have, famously, always been in disarray. but now that i'm becoming so learned (pronounced: learn-NED), i'm going to soon form a masterful plan on how to make bags of money. and if it takes off, i'll write a 'how-to' book or make an informercial selling my "10 easy steps to becoming a rich bitch like me." then i'll quit my job and move myself, juice and my new riches to the tax-exempt isle of bermuda. soon after, you'll see me on 'lifestyles of the rich & famous' lounging on a chaise with a martini in one hand while a cabana boy with soccer thighs stands nearby, peeling me grapes.

or at least that's what i fantasize about when i stare out the office window from the 49th floor. i also wonder what the gritty smog that blankets the LA basin is doing to my lungs. then i'll wonder whether someone brought in a box of doughnuts that morning. then i'll yawn. it's riveting to be me, isn't it?

also lubing my brain is the car hunt, which is well underway. i figure that the best way to start making money is to get myself into considerable debt with a new-car purchase. i've been checking out various financing options and figure that a bank loan will offer the lowest interest rate. i've also been perusing the wonderful edmunds.com, where i found this great piece written by a journalist who went undercover as a car salesman. i think i'll end up buying my car online, maybe from carsdirect.com, instead of getting ripped off by a dealership. g-d bless the internet.

and g-d bless all the other 'to do' items currently up on my dry-erase board. perhaps it's time to finally get to them.

Weak One

one full week of new job has passed and i feel totally exhausted. i don't know how people work 40 hours each week. it's not like i've never had a full-time job before, but it's been almost three years. and now i'm sitting here with the sunday blues, going into the week in anticipation of the weekend.

don't get me wrong. week one at work was very good. i'm just adjusting to this new, structured reality where the alarm goes off at an ungodly 6:15 am, i'm out the door by 7:30am, at my desk by 8am, lunch at noon, then out the office door by 5pm to join the bottleneck of traffic making its way out of downtown los angeles. rat race, i have arrived. a few people have called me this week asking whether i "love" my new job. i mean, who really "loves" their job? unless you're a rock star, work is work.

i do, however, like my new job, and mainly because the people there are so geniunely nice. the environment is positive, upbeat, cooperative. i like my job because my coworkers like their jobs. and given that i'm working for a huge corporation with offices worldwide and thousands of employees, this is amazing. there's much to be said for corporate culture. i also love working downtown. there's something so sexy about it. it's urban and full of energy. i can walk to lunch, which, in los angeles, is hard to come by. i like wearing power suits and heels. if i had my way, my closet would hold nothing but prada. oh no, have i already become a corporate whore? a corporate bore?

it's not that i haven't had a few moments where i'd wish i could sleep in instead and work in my pajamas all day. i guess i'm relishing the newness of it all -- especially the security! no more student scrounging. no more buying the discounted bruised fruit. i can exhale knowing that a paycheck is coming and that i don't have to chase it around the accounting department after they've lost my invoice again. it's a peace i haven't known in ages.

on the flipside, i'm tired all the time. i had no energy for going out this weekend. i'm a grannie now, asleep on my couch by 11pm with the TV still on, remote control slipping out of my hand as drool trickles onto the pillow. i also seem to be eating nonstop lately and can sense the onset of office ass, a condition akin to the freshman 15. and until today, i was quite behind on household chores and responding to phone calls and emails. working takes so much out of you. i know, i know, welcome to the real world. i've heard that all week. i'm sure it'll sort itself out. in the meantime, i'm going to have a glass of wine and ride out the remainder of my sunday night.

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

i guess any day can be considered such. but there is something special about the first day of a new job. it does signify the rest of your life, the start of your career, the beginning of opportunity. that's what tomorrow, monday the 14th, will bring for me -- or at least that's the hope. i've spent the past few weeks preparing for tomorrow and i'm really looking forward to it. that's not to say i didn't have my little freak-out when i was walking around the grove shopping center at noon on a wednesday in the sunshine, wondering why the hell i would give up my flexible freelance lifestyle to enter a predictable office space existence. i feared i could never work my new hours of 8am-5pm five days a week. i worried i could never accept authority or take direction after spending the past three years as my own boss. what did i get myself into?

luckily (and surprisingly), this freak-out was short lived, with those fleeting emotions soon replaced by joy at the thought of predictability, stability, and a signing bonus that will serve as the down payment for a new car i so desperately need. my old car has proved itself to be a fickle fucker in the past few weeks and has sometimes decided to simply not start. i must sit there flipping the bitch switch for about 15 minutes until it deigns me worthy of driving it again. and i will pour no more money into having the mechanics seek out the electrical problem they could never find before. so yes, a new car on the horizon. i'm thinking a Toyota Rav4. that car seems very me. it's big enough to throw juice in the back, gets pretty good mileage for a mini-SUV, and them toyotas have great resale value. anyone know a dealer who can get me a great deal?

so these past few weeks preparing for the first day of the rest of my life have been spent making peace with my old life. i was slowed by a nasty flu that kept me bed-ridden for nearly a week, all feverish and achy. i spent a couple days in big bear frolicking in the snow. i engaged in some retail therapy, buying four pairs of shoes and numerous other pieces for my new professional wardrobe. i watched a lot of reality television and cooked many a meal at home. i got my taxes done and secured a nice return equal to one month's rent. with my landlord, i worked on my backyard and deposited some grass seed that will hopefully spring up in the spring. i did yoga and slept late. the only thing i didn't get to do was take that trip to new york. that has been rescheduled for memorial day weekend in may.

anywho, it was a nice way to go out, leaving me very refreshed and ready for tomorrow. there's also been a boy element going on, and i guess that update is overdue. it's nothing life altering, but there's been movement in that arena -- and initially, too much movement. seems like i went on one little date and was suddenly ushered into dude dramaland. there was some craziness where new guy's psycho ex called me up and talked some shit. then i ran into a psycho ex of my own, who got me so peeved that i threw a drink in his face. then yogaman got weird on me. then i got random emails from old flames looking to reconnect. it was nonstop guy dilemmas and it was a little overwhelming.

thankfully, all has returned to baseline; everything's in its rightful place. at this point, i'm still very single. i am dating -- and not exclusively. and anyone who's dating me knows this because 1) they read my blog, and 2) i'm all about the honesty. and what could be more appealing, really? "commitment-phobic good-time gal seeks similar for fun in the sun." how cool is that? i'm a guy's wet dream.

so the nunnery is no more, though i can still poke on through when i want to be entirely on my own, which is often. i have my cake and i'm eating it (which is the dumbest expression ever, because what else would you do with cake besides eat it?) i still feel relatively detached, footloose and fancy-free, and on the whole all is well. let's hope it maintains.

Congratulate Me

i gots a new job, like a real full-time, permanent position. my sexy freelance lifestyle will soon end, and i will join the ranks of other corporate schlubs who work in downtown Los Angeles high-rises not meant to exist in earthquake-landia. but what can i say -- they made me an offer i couldn't refuse. i interviewed there three times with a whooping 9 people for a total of 12 hours under the microscope. i also took a bunch of tests. i would come home exhausted after these interviews, especially since they usually began at 8 am, an hour this freelancer hadn't seen in many months. and it took a couple months to even get here, with all the checking references, faxing over transcripts and evaluating everything. i'm just happy to be done with the process. corporate whoredom officially begins march 14.

oh, yes. what is the job about, you ask? good question. well, i don't want to say the name of the company here, so if you're deathly curious, email me and i'll tell you. let's just say it's in the financial sector (i know, it's so me) doing editing (which is so me). it's mostly web work. i've been very impressed with the company and its employees, truly. everyone i've spoken with has been so genuinely nice that it feels like twilight zone over there, despite it being a corporate place with business attire and finance on the brain. and i can keep the stud in my nose intact. (though it's so '90s, perhaps i should finally take it out?)

anyhow, after so many interviews at new company and at other companies for jobs i didn't get/take, i've learned quite a bit about the finer points of the crazy interviewing process, and this information is just too valuable to sit on so i wanted to share with y'all:

-- look as asexual as possible, especially if you're a woman. this meant turtlenecks and oversized blazers for me. i also put my hair up and wore neutral makeup. slightly tight sweaters that highlight jiggling tits are bad. they will make the women hate you and the men not listen to anything you have to say.

-- use fancy terms like "career trajectory" and "job mastery." use them repeatedly with each new person who interviews you.

-- when they ask you if you have any questions, always ask the interviewer about his or her own background and experience with employment and with the company. they eat it up. people just love talking about themselves, so keep it going by asking follow-up questions about their lives. watch your stock rise.

-- mention you have a dog. mention it to each new person you interview with. i once took a screenwriting class where the professor said that a trick to making a character more likable was to give him a dog. most people love dogs and want to have one themselves but can't because their place is too small/they're never home/don't have a yard/yadda yadda. discuss it with them, and then mention that your dog's name is juice. people love the name.

-- when asked about where you see yourself in five years, say that you're very ambitious but open to how that's going to play out in the future. that shows employers how flexible you are, and how you're there to fill the needs of the company instead of your own needs. adapt = adept.

-- practice your firm handshake with friends; and consult the mirror for perfecting these common interview faces: the captivating look, the nod of approval, the puzzled-ready-to-ask-you-a-question face, the pleased-with-your-answer face, the smile that accompanies your firm handshake, the nice-to-meet-you smile, and the smile and little wave you give before you leave someone's office.

-- don't ever yawn during an interview, even though it's 8 in the morning and you drank too much wine the night before just to be able to fall asleep at 10 pm, but still couldn't fall asleep at 10 pm because that's way too early for you to be sleeping, so you tossed around in bed for hours before finally falling asleep at 1 am only to get up at 6 am so you could begin pumping yourself full of coffee that's made you kinda jittery and has upset your stomach because there's too much wine in there left over from the night before. also, don't put your hands in your mouth, nose or pants during an interview.

-- this last one is really tricky and very situation-specific: don't seem too smart, nor too dumb. how to play this one depends largely on the interviewer, so one must feel out the vibe first. i hate to admit it, but it also depends on gender. more men than women have hired me in my career, and that's not because there are more men in management. it's about perceived threat, and this, sadly, is where my ladies fail me. i love strong women, but not all other strong women do, so i've learned to tone it down a bit during interviews with women and seem more like a faithful disciple than a worthy competitor. with men, it's the opposite -- i bring it up to keep the focus on the brain, not on the breasts, which is why oversized blazers are essential. and anything that could be misconstrued as flirting (with men or women) is absolutely verboten.

look at all these pearls i'm giving you. i should write a column. oh wait, this is my column and, at this point, my only creative outlet. i'll keep that in mind as i slave away downtown crunching numbers (i hate that term) and editing the praises of various mutual funds.

but no, really, i'm pleased with this new turn. i'm craving the stability this will bring. i'm looking forward to getting to know my co-workers and learning about a new industry. i need those medical, dental and vision benefits and those steady paychecks. i'm more ready now than i was a year ago for something so permanent, and i'm glad i waited for the right time and the right opportunity. this news is very terrific. it's more than a job; it's the start of my career, and i'm ready to kick ass.

It's Raining Work, Hallelujah!

every day this week, i've gotten phone calls about some sort of employment opportunity. it's been amazing and completely unprecendented, unexpected and a bit surreal. most of the calls have been from the temp agency i recently signed up with. those fuckers have been hard at work for me, and i must give them mad props. at least four different recruiters have called me offering various opportunities. i've tried to say 'yes' to almost everything because i'm so cash hungry and eager to work, work, work. that's the big resolution of the year -- to work, work, work. whereas 2004 was a year of rest and recovery following two treacherous years of graduate school and hellish heartache, 2005 will be all about the mighty dollar and me as the mighty mouse. (sorry, that was dorky.)

so yes, the new temp agency rocks, making me abandon my old temp agency altogether. i also received a phone call from a place i interviewed with months ago -- they never hired me, citing something about budgets or timing or whatever -- that offered me about five days worth of freelance work in the coming weeks, which i quickly snatched up. i went in yesterday for a full day, have three days lined up for next week and then one more the following week. and THEN, i got a call for a job i applied to weeks ago and forgot about. when the guy called me for an interview, i figured he was yet another recruiter from the agency and we began some weird dialogue that ended in confusion on both our parts. after i figured it out and apologized profusively, we set up an interview, and i interviewed. we'll see how that goes. and to top it off, i'm still working for my mistress zee, mostly from home, and that should continue for about another month. i see some 12-hour workdays in my future, but you know what, a 12-hour workday would do me good right about now.

let's hope this deluge of opportunities maintains, because i need to do some serious making up for the past few months of inactivity. the new year should also be the year of new stuffs, like new couches and possibly a new car, perhaps a new dog, a vacation to somewhere i've never been before. i've made a wish list that only keeps lengthening.

and this LA rain rocks, especially when you can work from home, as i have been doing. it's so toasty in my pad. i'm in my warm sweats and slippers, making homemade meals daily, taking all the breaks i want while still getting my work done. only problem is that it can get quiet and rather lonely. i'll traverse through my day all self-contained and isolated, barely uttering a word to anyone but juice. then the phone will ring in the evening and maybe it's a friend or my parents and suddenly, i'm either chewing their ear off or have forgotten how to form words altogether. i motormouth or bumble, depending on my caffiene intake.

so while working from home has its benefits, i find myself yearning for the office, at least a day or two a week. that would be my ideal situation because i am a social animal. yet i know that too many days in an office space would shrivel my soul into a little unhappy raisin. something about that flourescent lighting, that drone of computers, those same complacent faces day in and out -- ugh. i poopoo on that conformity. (though i fear i shall succumb one day.)

And the Winner Is...

ConfidentCopy.com. I bought the domain name the other day, and things are moving right along. i'm meeting with the web designer this week and the first order of business will be a logo. this is important, as business is all about branding nowadays, and this logo will be replicated on my business cards and may be plastered elsewhere as part of an advertisement. so what should it look like? i'm trying to stay away from anything gimmicky or cartoonish. i'd prefer something more sophisticated, streamlined, minimalist. i wish i could design it myself, but my artistic abilities don't extend beyond stick figure drawings.

so...yeah, please e-mail me or leave suggestions in comments box.

Indecision Over a Big Decision

the big news of the week is that i've decided to start my own business. it's something i've already wanted to do, and recently when i was talking to a girlfriend of mine (ms. zahra bizarra), we were listing off the things we really wanted to do in our lives. i always knew i wanted to be self-employed ultimately and then the epiphany: why not now? it was so clear and simple. i began to daydream of all the benefits: flexible hours; unlimited earning potential that will be a reflection of my effort, rather than a predictable amount i'd get no matter how i perform at work; no commute; no friggin boss; no risk of being fired for insubordination; more time with my baby juice; greater opportunity to travel on a whim; and more time to focus on my other, more important ultimate goal: writing. like real writing -- telling my own stories instead of others' stories, which i would be doing as a journalist.

the bad news is: i think i'm over journalism. i never really had that fire inside me to be a journalist, and it's not worth faking. i'm no woodstein. this might sound lame, considering i just accrued $20K worth of debt for a master's degree in the friggin field, but i think it'll help oodles in my new business endeavor, in terms of "qualifying" me to do good work and charge premium rates. and if i'm really honest with myself, i went after that advanced degree mostly out of boredom, partially out of vanity, and partially out of sibling rivalry (my sister has an MBA). also, that advanced degree somehow qualifies me to become a teacher, har har, which may be fun. so yes, no regrets.

but back to business: it will be a sort of one-stop copy shop, where i will provide copywriting, editing, proofreading and copy consultation services. it'll be geared toward all kinds of businesses and (graduate-level) students. this is stuff i know how to do, been doing forever and i'm confident in my competence. there are certainly many more details to this, which i am still hashing out. and i'm not under any delusion that it'll all be peaches and cream. i'm prepared for the hard work, crazy hours, sacrifices, financial instability, etc., that something like this brings. but i believe it will all be worth it. and i recognize that it will take some time before it really takes off, which is why i'm going to keep temping. so yes, i have realistic expectations.

the big dilemma: what the hell do i call this thing? i've been mulling this over for weeks now. a name -- that first impression -- will be so vital in attracting new business. i can't take it lightly. the problem is the world wide web, which is too vast -- all the good names for web sites have been taken. i'm left with the dregs. for obvious reasons, i prefer a .com over a .net web presence, and i want to avoid hypens. ideally, i want a sophisticated name, something that screams competence and professionalism, like The Final Draft (web site already taken). here is a list of potential names i've come up with, for which web sites are still available:

GoldenPenEditing.com
GildedPen.com
WordSurgeon.net
SmartyPen.com
OnCallEditor.com
WritersRemedy.net
AlchemyEditorial.com
ConciseCopy.com
SparklyCopy.com
ConfidentCopy.com

a preliminary poll of some of my most creative friends found WordSurgeon.net to be the clear winner, but i'm not convinced. someone mentioned that the idea of surgery is unappealing, and what i'll be doing is more polishing than dissecting, so it's not exactly apt. but PolishedProse.com was taken. someone else mentioned that the 'golden' reference makes him think of piss, so i don't know. words have weird connotations for different people, which is why it's important to find a pleasant-sounding name that will make most people feel warm and fuzzy inside. i don't want to appeal to the lowest common denominator necessarily and i want to avoid gimmicky stuff. and i'm not sure i want to include the word 'editing' in the name as many people have suggested. it goes beyond just editing services (also available are proofing, copywriting), though 'editorial' might be a nice, all-inclusive alternative.

i don't know. i don't think i've heard the right name yet, one that covers all the bases (and is amazingly still available online). do you have it, biyatch? best email me if you do: milla666@aol.com, and leave suggestions in the comments box. thanks for playing.

Wanted: Web Designer to Overhaul MillaTimes.com

must be cheap -- a student looking to expand his portfolio might work best. must be local and willing to meet with me periodically. must be quick at getting the job done. and must be good at taking direction, for i shall retain complete creative control. send queries to milla666@aol.com, and visit the schlock that is millatimes.com to see your assignment.

you know craigslist now charges $25 to post a job ad? figured i'd take this route before dropping my quarter on it. someone must know someone who can do this for me. it's not that big a job, and it's something i've been meaning to do for months now. i would do it myself, but as evidenced by the existing site, i'm a crappy designer. besides, i no longer have access to dreamweaver. the only thing i'd want to leave the same is the home page, which i think is rather nifty. everything else is open to rearranging.

who can do the job? if you know, tell them to email me pronto.

Publishing Error in My Favor

yay! it's out -- my first big cover story for NoHo>LA. Click on the cover to go to the story, which is about a very funny play called jewtopia. i immensely enjoyed watching the show (highly recommend, if you're local to LA) and meeting the two crazy jewish dudes responsible for it. if you're truly a fan and a friend, you can find the rag in LA's more eastside locales -- NoHo, Hollywood, Burbank, Larchmont, etc -- at coffeeshops, indy video stores, clothes shops and the like. it'll be out for the next two weeks.

truthfully, i'm sure my editor assigned the story to me because of my surname (goldenberg), which is synonymous with "superjew." maybe she figured i could never be accused of being insensitive to the jewish plight and all that, especially since the play is humorously self-depracating. i can certainly understand her concern, as a gentile might have handled the assignment like a hot potato (i think i treated it more like a chicken soft taco), but in any case, i hope she gives me more shit to write about. like i said before, i'm all about them bylines nowadays. i'm sitting on a few other publishing eggs; let's hope a few more of them hatch soon.

Friday at the Journalism Job Fair

i should have trusted my instincts and not gone at all, as it was a complete wash for me. i talked to maybe three or four recruiters, all of whom i reluctantly (and rather unsuccessfully) tried to sell myself to. i just can't play the i'm-great-and-this-is-why game that job fairs require. but it's really more than that. it's the fact that i just don't want to do daily news, and the fair featured folks from the fresno bee and bakersfield californian and a bunch of other no-name dailies from podunk towns.

i did visit the LA Times booth and that was a complete disaster. the chick actually handed me back my resume. fuck, lady, couldn't ya just humor me? i've never had my resume handed back to me at a job fair. she was nice about it, though, saying i should keep my resume and clips and apply for the times' summer internship for next year, as if i would forget to include them then. i asked whether that would ultimately help get me a job at the times. she said it was unlikely. if i really wanted to work at the times, i would have to go to those podunk towns and write kick-ass stories for those no-name dailies while earning a slew of awards in the process. after several years of this, i could apply at the times and we could talk.

now, i'm not sure that i believe in an afterlife, so the thought of suffering for years as a general assignment reporter writing obituaries and covering city council meetings and fires in some backwoods shithole for the chance to possibly, maybe, perhaps write for the los angeles times one day (which i've already done, by the way) just doesn't sound appealing. call me crazy. the lady gently reminded me that journalists end their careers at the times, not begin them, and that we all have to pay our dues.

yes, granted. i never expected to walk into a cushy job as a features reporter at the times straight out of graduate school, and if it were worth it to me, i might sit in that shithole writing obituaries, but that's just not my bag, and if this job fair did nothing else, it helped me to realize that. i don't want to work for a daily. that's the bottom line. i don't like working in a pressure cooker, having to crank out story after story under daily deadline pressure. i wouldn't want to have to compete with my peers for the big "get." i'd much rather have the time to set aside a piece and come back to it a little later. i don't want to have to start everything i write with the inverted pyramid, answering the who, what, when, where, how and why in the first graph. maybe i'd rather begin with a quote or an anecdote or some imagery. daily news is great to read, but it sucks to write, and i don't have it in me to try. i wish i did. no, on second thought, i guess i really don't.

i sometimes wonder whether i should have taken the opportunity to study magazine journalism at NYU when i had the chance. USC's program is really geared toward newspaper reporting, and it really tries to convince you that you should be too (undoubtedly so you can go out a win a pulitzer to honor the school). but i like magazines -- they're like little illustrated books, self-contained and portable, and the ink doesn't rub off on your fingers. that's way more my bag. radio's not bad either. but a newspaperwoman i shall never be. and that's just fine with me.

now, i don't expect to walk into a cushy job as a features writer for Newsweek either, but for that opportunity, i just might spend years slaving away at smaller publications until i got the chance. and i wouldn't have to move to fresno to do it. i'm already writing for NoHo LA and will have a cover story coming out for them in the coming weeks. it's a small start to what will hopefully become a very long and fruitful love affair with the magazine world. it's still journalism and it's a much better fit for me. ok, now i know that. case closed.

well, today is my last day at VOA London. it's a bittersweet occasion. i've learned oodles here that i can apply elsewhere, and i've produced some much-needed clips that i can show to potential bosses and say: "see, i am a journalist. i've done reporting and stuff." i've really liked the people at the office, especially my boss, Al, who's been a wonderful and patient teacher.

BUT, i must say i'm fairly stoked to be entering the next phase of my summer in europe. and i hope all of you will stay with me as we mix up the programming here at The Milla Times and begin our broadcast of "12 cities, 10 countries, 21 days." here is the list of cities we will be visiting on our journey: paris, brussels, amsterdam, cologne, berlin, prague, budapest, vienna, venice, barcelona, seville, albufeira (last one's in portugal). now, if you have friends i can rent in these cities or have sound advice on where to go, and where definitely NOT to go in these cities (especially on the cheap), please email me. i hope i can still do plenty of updating here, but i'm guessing that my posts will likely be less frequent and more hurried while i'm on the road.

all this wonderfulness will begin july 4, american independence day (and i think france's bastille day, which should make stop 1 in paris fun). i will be spending next week in cromer, england, a tiny coastal town in the northeast, where i have a hot date with the 5th harry potter book. this is on my parents' time share exchange. it'll be a much-needed week of R&R for me, considering the hectic year i've had, and i hope to squeeze in a day trip to edinburgh too.

so yesterday was my birthday. i turned 21, thank you very much, and thanks to all who sent kind e-greetings. my adoring boyfriend -- who i shall refer to from here on out as pablo, pabs, sugarbear or jackass, depending on my mood and his behavior -- came into town on the 25th, so he was able to join in on last night's festivities, which saw myself and my friends here getting drunk. good fun was had by all. we began the night at 7pm with the class' last meeting (yes, even though i've been working, i've been earning units and attending a weekly class). so i got to say goodbye to my great professor (bye judith!) and all the other people on my program, and then headed to a moroccan bar in the soho area, where we drank mint tea and took a few tokes off a hookah. then to another pub for a few more glasses of wine and loud conversation and then home. many thanks to my four kind roomies who surprised me with gifts that included: thong underwear, chocolate-flavored rolling papers and an ashtray, a book i really wanted, and a wooden frog from prague. speaking of my kind roomies, here's a picture of them i've been meaning to post. unfortunately, tania's not in this one. she likely became annoyed with us and splintered away from the group when this picture was taken, as she often does. but here are the rest of the bitches.


from left to right: ya-lei, me, melissa, als

it's here! behold the beauty that is my first VOA story.

with just under two weeks left of my internship in london, i feel as if i've given my two weeks notice and have allowed my brain to drift into the realm of what comes next. and what comes next is so, so very appealing: a week of doing virtually nothing (besides becoming reacquianted with my boyfriend after a six-week separation, if you catch my drift -- wink, wink) at a sleepy town in northeast england, courtesy of my parents' timeshare; then comes some traveling through europe for three weeks with eurail passes and a "europe on a shoestring" guide; and then the final week with pablo's parents at their getaway in the south of portugal. ah. it's all very jet set. you can understand why my mind is wandering.

anyhow, bossman al returned from his vacay yesterday and finally edited my first BIG story. we sat down together and went through it line by line. it was an interesting experience, certainly beneficial and somewhat disheartening. plenty of it was rewritten. i know that this shouldn't surprise or upset me much -- it's a normal part of newsroom procedures, especially with new writers and old editors. i guess i just wanted to be on the mark, to nail it right away. all the biggies were ok: structure, transitions and soundbytes were largely left intact. it's in the nuances, the often overlooked subtleties of language that work their covert magic. anyone who takes care in his own writing knows where the hell i'm coming from. when all was said and done, it didn't resemble my writing, and i prefer that anything with my name attached sound like it came from me. we split some hairs and i tried to pick my battles carefully, and sometimes my view won out, though most of the time it didn't.

i guess what disturbs me most is how his rewrite slanted the story toward the american position. this sounds really stupid considering that i'm working for the VOA, the voice of fucking america, and i don't know what made me think that my left-of-center leanings would win out over his obligation to the US government, but it irked me all the same. it's not that bad, it's not nearly as pro-american as foxnews; it's more like cnn. and in fairness, he did leave in soundbytes that were extremely critical of the current administration. i shouldn't be complaining. i like my internship and my boss. and i know that someday i'll be able to do all the slanting i want when i'm the bigshot at some media organization (though this blog is probably the closest i'll ever get to enjoying that kind of freedom). besides, most of the people on my program aren't even doing any writing or reporting. hopefully, the editing of my next story will run more smoothly, but given the topic, i doubt it. and what would that topic be? if all works in my favor, it will deal with an issue very near and dear to my heart: homosexuality.

i'll put a link up to my first story in the next day or two. i just need to wait until my boss lays down the voice track (i still haven't received clearance for my own voice to be broadcast!), then i'll do the technical edit, and bang: the thing will be broadcast on shortwave radios all over the world to hungry, third-world dwellers who don't understand a lick of english.

not much time for updating today. i'm dashing out of work right now to make a yoga class by 6:30 pm. not much happened between the last post and this one. i made pizza for my roomies last night and transcribed all of my interviews today at work. otherwise, i've still been trying to nail this voice audition for voa. you don't know how hard it is to read news well, i didn't know until i tried it. to get the tone, intonation, stress and pace just right in a news piece is really a challenge. i've done plenty of practicing and bossman still sits down with me after every recorded attempt, offers his critique, and then says, 'ok, now do it again.' i feel like he's my mom teaching me algebra all over again. he even had me do some training on an ad from a magazine, which i had to read in a way that would convince him to buy the product. i don't think i convinced him.

more training continues tomorrow. until then.

i saw this really incredibly hilarious play last night, The Madness of George Dubya. it was a spoof on the iraqi war and began with a hyper-retarded dubya, clad in superman PJs and clinging to a teddy bear, waking from a nightmare which helps him realizes that he needs to embark on a war on "tourism." aided by his pals "colin, dick and donald duck," he dreams that "weapons of mass distraction" exist in "iraqistan," which is run by the evil "saddama bin laden." he's very concerned about things like the "coyote treaty" and what's happening in "guacamole bay," but can't get a grip on his presidency because of the bullying by his aides. add to the mix a bumbling tony blair, two crossdressing soldiers, one nuclear bomb, some very funny songs and you get laughs aplenty. it was a truly special show. i hope it comes to the states soon, because i'd like to see it again.

today at work i spoke with two MPs, that's right, two bonafide members of britain's parliament, which is tantamount to speaking with u.s. senators. one was head of britain's foreign affairs committee and could speak on all these important international things. i'm not usually one to become impressed by surface stuff like status and titles, but i'll admit that it was neat to interview these people on their level. i was a bit nervous, which i'm sure was reflected in my stuttering through the questions i had prepared. on the whole, i made no major blunders, except when i idiotically referred to tony blair's "prime ministership." at the time, i had been frantically searching for the british equivalent of "presidency" and that's what my nervous head produced. the exceedingly polite MP gently reminded me that it's known here as a "premiership" and the interview continued unscathed. i also interviewed the nice cambridge professor i mentioned before and he was without question the greatest interview one could ask for. he took every question i asked and ran with it, giving me more information than i had bargained for. he was beyond helpful, offering me new insights i had never even considered. he even said i could call him back for clarification before i had the chance to ask. as them brits would say, it was "simply brilliant!" so research on my first story is going quite well. i hope to have the whole thing done by early next week, though bossman al is going out of town and won't be able to give it a proper edit.

on sunday night, i had an indian dinner with a very dear friend whom i hadn't seen in close to four years. it was exceptionally lovely to meet again and stroll down memory lane together. it was like meeting a best friend or an old lover, one of those people who has a special key that can only be used in conjunction with your own to unlock parts of your past and parts of yourself that are reserved only for them. we parted reluctantly and promised that another four years wouldn't pass before we met again.

the rain returned to london with a vengeance today. the sun hasn't made a single appearance and there's a renewed chill in the air. i'm off to brussels this weekend for a class trip.

i have a feeling this entry is going to be long. i just sat down at an internet cafe a few blocks from the yoga studio where i just finished a class. i'm exhausted from a night of clubbing that got me to sleep near 4 am. it was interesting, i suppose. well, not really. it was just like any other night of clubbing, just in a different city. i don't know if it's because americans and brits are so alike or if it's because club culture is relatively uniform throughout the globe, but there was nothing distinctly british about clubbing in london, save the accents. same drab places, same crowded dance floors, same meat market vibe. i'm not sure if it was worth the trouble of trying to coordinate six opinionated girls with different ideas of what constitutes a good night out. we hit up two different places (oxygen and club rumba) and managed to reduce the covers of both, because six girls wearing makeup and tight tops can take you far in clubland. i did have a very good time cutting a rug at the second club, which played decent house music to an appreciative crowd. there, i shook my ass as only a true house music aficionado -- who's neither interested in scoring ecstacy nor getting laid -- can. yet it still doesn't make me want to party too much in london because, i'm sad to report, it's not all that fun. the bars close early (11 or midnight) and the people aren't so warm. maybe it's cus i'm a tourist who doesn't know where to go and yadda yadda, but i'll save my midnight oil for spain, where going out always promises a good time.

in other news, i ended my production rotation at work on friday and begin the reporting part on monday. i'm starting work on my first story and have conducted two pre-interviews for it already. with the help of my very kind boss, al, the story has found a new focus and is ready to move forward. i only hope do some original reporting with it instead of rehashing news that's already out there. i'll only say that it's about tony blair, whom i'm sure i'll have no problem getting on the phone for a comment. my first pre-interview was a disaster. i called some cocksure professor at the london school of economics (LSE) who was all too happy to remind me how lucky i was to have his superior expertise contribute to my lowly story. our conversation went something like this:

me: so, professor, tell me what you think tony blair's...(insert details of general story idea here)

the asshole: look, if someone like you is going to be talking to someone like me, you better have more focused questions. otherwise, you're just wasting my time.

me: ok. well, as i mentioned before, this is a PRE-interview, so i'm just--

the asshole: yeah. yeah, i know what a pre-interview is. i taught journalism classes before. give me a better question.

me: well, i was hoping you could just take the question i gave you and respond with whatever enters your mind first. i know the question is general, but i'm looking for your first response, because that response will be the most important aspect of this story.

asshole: i don't have time for this. i could go on for hours with what you're asking me. go get some more focused questions, because i need to call back time magazine and the economist.

that was the gist, no lie. luckily, i have it all on audiotape, which i am saving for posterity. i shared it with al, who agreed that the guy was unnecessarily rude and gave me some good pointers for dealing with assholes interviewees in the future. i didn't take it personally or get too upset by it. it was obviously not about me or the story. it was about this one guy and his ego. the fact that assholes exist doesn't bother me so much. living long enough will expose you to plenty of assholes. it's not worth becoming upset over each one. what bothers me is that these assholes are everywhere. even in places you wouldn't expect to find them. teachers and doctors can be assholes too, and those are real people professions. maybe dealing with people who are assholes turns them into even bigger assholes, but that's a chicken-or-egg question i'll save for some other time.

anyhow, following the hellish interview, i called a different professor, one from cambridge, and he was all too happy to help. he kindly answered my general questions without asking for clarification or focus, confirming my suspicion that i wasn't the one off the mark. he agreed to a proper interview once i had my questions narrowed, so i won't need asshole LSE professor after all.

so my internet cafe time is running low. just want to add that the weather has been abnormally hot and bit humid, but it's a nice change from the overcast skies and shower london is famous for. i also sent out postcards the other day so if you sent me your address, expect something in the mail soon. see you next time. same bat time, same bat channel.