I take a long sigh as I start this post, knowing full well what it’s going to be about. Divorce.

Alaina and I are getting divorced.

There. Now I’ve put it out there. And I’m having the most terrible day. It’s not that I just found out, it’s that everyone else suddenly is. No, I wasn’t going to keep this from everyone until it was too late…but I was just hoping everyone wasn’t so hard on me about it. It’s not fair to me to make me think like I was the only person in the relationship and she has nothing to do with it. As they say, it takes two to tango.

Karen (my boss), was a mixture of glib and warmth today when I told her. I also told her I was quitting. She wants me to stay at least 2 more weeks, and at most, a month. My first reaction to the latter is “hellz nah”, but I’m wondering if it would be terrible.

I’m also wondering how living with my parents until my feet are on the ground would be. My mom touched on that today when she came to my work and made me feel lower than a bow-legged caterpillar. There wasn’t any yelling or words we wish we hadn’t said. She killed me with kindness. She only wants what’s best for me, I know that, but it seems like she’s pushing me towards something that won’t work. It feels like Alaina and I have been down this road many times before, except this time it’s actually happening. So many times we’ve come so close to being apart, only to recoil at the unexpected world outside of each other and run back to each others embrace. Things would be fine, and then they would start to fall apart some more. I’m tired of being Atlas, and I’m tired of trying to chase something it seems like I’ll never find.

But back to my mom. She gave me this weird sentence that made me feel like I wasn’t talking to my own mother. It made me feel like I was talking to some stranger. A landlady. She told me she was sure that I was used to living by myself, and that…(long pause)…so were they. And that living with them might be “tricky”. Tricky? What the hell does that mean? We’re going to have to perform rituals every night before bed? We have to hold hands everywhere we go and shower together? I don’t get it. I know my dad would like it if I was there, because we’re buddies, but maybe my mom is nudging me back to Alaina. But why? Because she likes her so damn much?

Either way. I think that’s all I needed to get out.

[More as it bursts forth from my loins]

Where I work, there is this old German Advertising Account Rep. Her name is Ellie. She must be pushing 50, and I’ve had some problems with her before. She’s apparently got some sort of authority to push my around and tell me my work isn’t good enough. Not in so many words, but she gets close enough. She’s back from the days when nothing was designed. It was all just “big block of type, and picture”. And I’m not into that. I like to make my designs interesting and dynamic. So when she sloshes over and tells me that an ad I did isn’t cool enough, and that I need to make it cooler, needless to say, I want to tear her head off.

First of all, why the hell do we have to run ads by the Advertising Account Reps?! They just handle the accounts of people who are running ads in the paper. That’s it. We SHOULD have to run it by Karen, the Advertising Director, but we never do. The AA Reps have ABSOLUTELY NO GRAPHIC DESIGN experience. If you give me an ad, and you write little notes to me like “Make a cool ad” or “Use a bunch of fonts” my first reaction is a resounding “fuck that”. Cool is so vague and such a broad word, that what is cool to some, will be impossibly boring to others. Like classical music, or eggplant. (Vague reference to Saget Strikes Back over.) Secondly, if you’re making an ad, never EVER use more than 2 or 3 fonts, unless you ABSOLUTELY have to. It makes it look like some sort of yard sale flyer that a 12-year old made.

But until I quit this job (see: soon), I’m stuck making “cool” ads. So right now, I’m probably being forced into putting flames on the back of some shitty pickup truck or being told to use the font Comic Sans…*shudders*

[.50 calber sniper rifle]

It has come to my attention that this blog may appear very hate-oriented. So I’ve compiled a list of things I love. Feel free to hate love me in the comments. Here we go!

• Sweetly-scented hair
• Feeling like a kid again and playing 4-square and kickball
• Big, baby eyes
• A warm summer rain
• A nice smile/nice teeth
• The “thop” of a book as you close it
• Snuggling
• That first cut into a fresh piece of construction paper
• Family Guy
• Futurama
• Big, white, puffy clouds
• Singing like a man (or Gaston from Beauty and the Beast)
• Posting to my blog
• Keeping up with the design world
• Freelancing
• Puppies with big, clumsy paws
• Playing D&D
• My family
• My friends
• Making silly little movies
• Being in love
• Firsts
• Being dragged into something I hate and then end up loving it
• Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday
• Artistic and articulate fingers
•Refined and interesting voices (Sean Connery, Paul Harvey, my grandfather)
• Nintendo
• The smell of the wind
• A good book
• Baring all in a partially awkward/partially comfortable weblog post

So there you have it. Oh. And my statements about my work, MySpace, and Sean Paul (and the rest of ‘em) still stand.

[so there]

The list of south-of-the-border annoyances is numerous. Christina Aguilera, Enrique Iglesias, Shakira, and yes, Sean Paul to name a few. What’s my problem with these people? First off, they’re a band of idiots. But secondly (and this is the trait they can avoid), they sing in Spanish, or some amalgam of Spanish and English, or as I like to call it: “Shit”.

• Christina. Get a hair cut, and put some damn clothes on. Leave something to the imagination, would you?
• Enrique. Yes, you’ve gotten your heart broken. 50 times. By apparently the same woman. And continuing to serandade in that warbling nutsack of a voice of yours isn’t helping matters any.
• Shakira. What can’t I say? The men only watch you because you seem to be able to fire your synapses long enough to shake your various body parts. But then you open your mouth, and you sound like Sean Connery. I think I found the poster child for Fetal Alchohol Syndrome.
• Sean Paul. Oh my. Never have I heard such an unending and beat-driven merry-go-round of madness. Seriously, I’ve heard kids with autism shout something about onions that had more coherent thought than the amount of effort Mr. Paul puts into his lyrics or songs. You expect me to understand this crap, let alone listen to it? No thank you. I’d much rather spend my 20 bucks on a bottle of cheap wine to smash over my head.

It’s times like these I can’t help but think: Man, who doesn’t want to strangle rock with Latin America?

Now get over it. The reason many people use the obnoxious piece of web-drivel is just because others have a myspace, and they want to view it. I’ll give xanga ultimate props over myspace any day, because you don’t have log in to do ANYTHING besides comment.

Guess what happens 99% of the time you jump to someone’s myspace? Well, yes, there is an immediate feeling of immense hate because it’s either filled with backlit emo pictures or animated GIFs that give the illusion of sparkles or glitter. But other than that.

Have you ever been playing music in your room, and then walked into someone elses room that has music on? It gets kind of hard to concentrate beyond all the intermingling audio. That’s myspace. You’re listening to you’re own music on YOUR computer, then all of a sudden, your meldodious interlude has been hijacked by some unknown brand of ear molestation. Lucky you if you happen to find the offending music player, because otherwise you’ll have to turn off YOUR music just to tolerate THEIRS. Let’s not forget the poor souls (yours truly included) who have stepped into a myspace that was littered with not only crappy music, but a video going at the SAME TIME. Not only does this mess with your head, but it makes their site as bad to the ears as it is to the eyes.

Oh. And one more thing. To all the myspace owners out there who have committed any of these crimes, or any of them who use an animated GIF as their background: I hope you burn in a bright and glittery hell that constantly plays 2 different kinds of music and 5 different music videos at once. Forever.

Well. Guess how much I hate my job? Not like it’s of any concern or matter to anyone reading. I just thought my second post should reflect my burning hatred for my current job. Has anyone ever read or subscribed to the Daily Guide which is shat out published in the Waynesville/St. Robert area of Missouri? No? Well then you’re lucky. The positions here suck, but they don’t tell you this. Furthermore, you don’t realize it until you’ve worked there.

I wanted a graphic design position. They put an ad in the paper about needing a graphic designer. I applied. And now I’m dying. Only about 5% of my job is graphic design. The rest is stupid crap that comes with it. Seriously. 75% of your job should not be dealing with other peoples’ mindless drivel. As I’ve said before, I’d rather sit at home and push pus out of my ingrown townail cavities than to listen to these people prattle on about their pointless lives.

Anyone else got a pointless job that doesn’t challenge or inspire you? Then let us join hands and stand against the opressors! Or just quit. Whichever’s easier.

Welcome, one and all, to the glorious convergence of my old .Mac site, and my current xanga site. My .Mac membership ran out, and I’m getting awfully tired of the way Xanga looks and runs, so…here we are. I’m sure you’ll all enjoy some new implemented features that not only make this operation run faster and smoother, but are also more efficient for those reading it. Such as searchable posts, posting categories, comments, trackbacks, pingbacks, XHTML, CSS, 3 different kinds of valid markup, and more. Just…try not to get too excited.

Anyway. What shall I post on this wonderful day? April the 16? Perhaps the fact that it is Easter? I’ll say an early Happy Easter to Canada, as they don’t get it until tomorrow, but, I don’t speak to Canada that often, so they’re happy I called. They asked if I wanted to come over and see their kids, but I said I was busy going to celebrate easter with Mexico…but I think Canada knew that was a lie. We’ll have to see.

Anyway! I’m wondering if there should be more posters than me. Such as…the fabled Eddy Abinette giving his insight into the world that is today. We’ll see how he feels about such a burden. Anyway, I just wanted to get this first post under my belt, and I hope you’ll all enjoy this, and the others to come.

[200 degrees, that's why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit]