Today’s Halloween. Which means the usual frivolity, sugar crashes, and potential for thrills and chills. So just a reminder to be careful out there. Here are a few things to watch out for.
-Actual vampires. You can tell them by their resemblance to Robert Pattinson.
-Actual werewolves. You can tell them by their resemblance to Michael J. Fox, circa 1985.
-A small child with a big bag of candy who seems to be struggling. DO NOT HELP HIM/HER/IT. This is really a midget with no mercy who will throw you down and take your own candy if he gets the chance.
-A small child who claims to be “lost” or “without parents.” This is also a midget with no mercy, who may have been a tranny hooker in a previous life. Stay away.
-Anything masquerading as a pumpkin.
-Anybody dressed as “Balloon Boy.” There may be vomiting.
-Thieves, muggers, assholes, sexual offenders, the Gosselins, rabid dogs, and John Liu, Comptroller.
-A girl dressed in a pink slip, passing out “pink slips.” She may well be me. And we all know how that ends up.
Screw the recession. Take it from Joe Waul, maker of the 10,000-pound rubber band ball that was just sold to Ripley’s Believe It or Not for an undisclosed price.
(Tell me—what does the biggest rubber band ball in the world go for these days? A cool million? $300,000? 500 bucks in unmarked bills? Free on Craigslist for the person who wants to come and get it?)
Well, except maybe for starving children in Africa, and pregnant teens, and that poor guy from Slumdog Millionaire. But the chesticularly well-endowed, I mean, for real! It’s hard to find clothes that fit. As Marilyn Monroe says to a be-dragged Jack Lemmon in Some Like It Hot, “clothes just hang better” on a flat-chested frame.
After my various and sundry disappointing (at best) and completely horrific (at worst) experiences with human resources professionals and huge corporate entities, I have to wonder if maybe this guy had the right idea.
When Anthony Armatys was hired for a six-figure job with Avaya in 2002, he filled out all the necessary paperwork with the company’s human resources and payroll departments. But when he changed his mind and decided not to take the job with the Bernards Township telecommunications giant, the payroll department never got the memo.
Officials at a Yorba Linda elementary school have recalled T-shirts given to students after discovering a phone number printed on the shirts was for a sex chat line.
I’m having a little trouble with my Halloween costume this year. See, I want it to be creative, and not something everyone else is wearing—a getup that will make sophisticated peoples look at me and chuckle a bit upon realizing what I represent, and how truly genius my concept is. Their minds would say, “Why didn’t I think of that?” and “I knew she was smart, but now I realize, she’s brilliant!” and “I would like to buy that ___________ a drink.”
And also, of course, it should be cute or sexy, and, more importantly, include a mouth hole for drinking access. And, given these economic times, free, or at least, built largely from my own closet/office supplies.
I’m dragging a bit today (staying up until 2 am reading The Book Thief, perhaps?). It’s noon and I’m only on my second cup of coffee, and yet … I’m too tired/lazy/unmotivated to get up and get another.
And yet, there is work to be done, and so I must push on. It’s only a few steps to the kitchen…
For those of you who find yourself in a similar sort of Monday paralysis, here’s a little pick-me-up.
I was reminded by a former coworker that yesterday was the one-year anniversary of our dear old departed mag folding.
I remember that day fairly vividly: the confusion when my direct deposit paycheck didn’t go into my account (once in the office we were handed “live checks” by the suits who came to deliver the bad news); my anger that once again the bigwigs were trying to skinflint us (we’d been plagued with financial problems in that last month or three and my job had became, essentially, arguing with AP to get our freelancers paid); my heated conversation with the editor-in-chief over what he was doing to protect us…
Last night I dreamed I got a job. Not just any job, but an exciting, fast-paced, full-of-adventure and highs and lows sort of job. Bond-esque, even, with a journalism bent. Which reminded me of an interview I did a while back with a person who has one of the coolest jobs ever. Her name is Erica Bailey and she is an honest-to-goodness real-life aerial acrobat.
Full disclosure: I went to high school with Erica back in Decatur, Alabama, a long, long time ago. We were both members of the forensics team, which did not involve solving crimes and autopsying dead bodies (that would have been cool) but instead was a fairly nerdilicious speech and debate team. Who woulda thought these girls with humble beginnings would go on to perform trapeze acts for kings and … um … start unemployment blogs?
photo credit: < ^))FishBear)))>< 
