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welcome to recapville, population: you
It would take me a very long time to explain what I've been up to this summer, so I'll just talk about the last week or two.
1. I spent an alternately frustrating and wonderful week with Michael and his coworkers in Acapulco, Mexico. Frustrating because Michael and his team were busier with their famous robot, Lewis, during the International Joint Conference on Artificial Intelligence than I expected they would be, and wonderful because:
a. Um, it's Acapulco. Beaches, pools, lightning at night over the bay, Mexican food and room service.
b. His team won the annual Robot Challenge, upsetting the heavily favored (and, in my opinion, overrated) GRACE team of Carnegie Mellon, Northwestern, et al. Smart boys, especially smart boys who work with robots and whose names are Michael, are very, very sexy.
c. I was offered the job for which I interviewed the previous weekend. On Sept. 9, I start as editor/reporter for an edition of the West-County Journals, owned by Suburban Journals, owned by Pulitzer Inc. I'll be moving all of my stuff (you should see how marked up and ragged my copy of the IKEA fall catalog is; the store should watch out when I come storming in next weekend) to St. Louis on the Saturday before I start my new job.
Let me tell you, quitting a job when no one you work with expects it and thus, responds with big, sad eyes and pleas to stay, is stressful and bad for the soul. But then again, flying in for jobs you want and getting your hopes up and being chosen for the next round of interviews and then being rejected isn't exactly a codeine-enhanced walk on the beach, either. Can we all agree this whole getting-a-job thing is extremely painful?
(I went a little link-crazy in this post. A little? A lot!)
Listening to: "Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth" -- The Dandy Warhols
08-22-2003 4:47 PM - comments (1)
wave 'em like you just don't care
If it were not for Spinner, I'd have nothing to distract me at work but my impending carpal tunnel syndrome problem. Actually, my dad had that, and I guess back in the Dark Ages they didn't have anaesthesia because he was awake while they cut his hands open. I guess back in the Dark Ages they also had very demented senses of humor, because they made him watch the entire procedure. Or maybe, in true Chris Otto fashion, he requested that particular feature of the surgery.
08-22-2003 2:02 PM - comments (0)
To my surprise, I heard Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name Of" on the boring alternative rock station today (motto: "Stop complaining about our mediocre rotation or it's Ashanti time!"). I had forgotten how purely kick-ass that song is. They just don't make angry, politically charged rock like they used to, I thought to myself grimly.
I prepared myself for the climax of the song--"Fuck you, I won't do you what you tell me" chanted repeatedy--but of course, the Man abruptly turned off the song before it could get to the good part, wiped the sweat off his brow in relief and played the much safer rageful stylings of Linkin Park. He won't be ignored, I'm told.
08-21-2003 8:41 PM - comments (0)
I think it's safe to come out now.