Category: Rants


Paula Abduul shall not be suffered to live

Filed Under: Rants, Reviews by Julie — 20 Comments
April 13, 2006

Belvedere, Central Park

I was so swamped with work yesterday that I never got around to writing a hate-filled diatribe about Paula Abduul.  I think most of my vitriol has been vented, but I would still like to point out that she actually said to Bald Guy: “I can see why Queen never played that song ["Innuendo"] live.  They were waiting for you to come along and sing it, because I can’t imagine someone else doing it!”

Perhaps that’s a paraphrase.  Okay, it is a paraphrase.  But it caused me to go off on a Paula Abduul hate rant that lasted several minutes, much to Lori’s amusement.  I understand that Paula isn’t the brightest crayon in the box (she would actually be Olive Green) and that by the looks of it, she is doing these shows under the influence of one or more drugs, but for the love of god, woman!  Queen never did that song live because Freddie died shortly after they recorded it!  Show a little motherfuckin’ respect, you ignorant twat!  Gah!  (Oh, look, some of the vitriol is still present.  Hmmm.)  After I said something similar to this Tuesday night, Lori and her roommate looked at each other and said “Well, Paula has just managed to alienate every Queen fan in the country…”

Overall I thought most of the contestants did a good job with the songs they picked.  I thought Ace should have gone, not because of anything he did to the song (read Brian’s Soapbox for Bri’s take on what went on), but because “We Will Rock You” would be the last Queen song that should be picked to show off your vocal talents.  It’s a good song, a strong song, but really, it doesn’t showcase a singer’s abilities as much as the rest of the Queen catalogue does.  Anyone can sing WWRY.  Pick something harder, Ace, and prove that you’re not getting by on looks alone.  Favorite performances of the night: Bald Guy singing “Innuendo” – that is a song that a true fan picks to pay tribute to his idols.  Way to go, Bald Guy.  Good job.  I also got a kick out of Taylor (aka Grey-Haired Guy) doing “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.”  He picked a song that went well with his craziness, and I think Freddie was smiling somewhere when he saw it.  But my absolute favorite was Paris (aka Little Girl With The Big Voice) singing “The Show Must Go On.”  Holy hell did she belt that out and show off her chops.

Actually, my only problem with the show was that Paul Rodgers wasn’t on it.  I know it was all about Queen’s music, but here was a great opportunity to talk to someone who has been making Queen’s music his own for months.  He’s stepped into Freddie’s shoes as Queen’s frontman, but he’s not trying to be Freddie.  That’s exactly what these contestants could stand to learn.  Oh well, opportunity missed.
And now a confession.  I actually broke down and voted for Paris.  I don’t feel bad, since Lori and her roommate also voted, and Lori actually voted twice, once on the landline, once on her cell.  Total votes cast from Lori’s apartment: 1 for Bald Guy, 1 for Paris, and 2 for Taylor.  (Those two were Lori’s, of course.)

Permalink

When angry, count to 10.

Filed Under: Academic Office Monkey, Rants by Julie — 6 Comments
March 28, 2006

Explain to me, why is something a waste of time if I ask you to do it, but if I have to do it, it’s not a waste of time? Why is it a waste of time if it’s not what you want to be doing, even if it is something that must be done?

Let’s just clarify, little office monkeys. The program for Commencement must be proofed by our office. I have done it the past four years. This year, I am too busy doing degree audits (which I have to do myself, because you invariably fuck them up when you do them), so I have given you the job of proof-reading. I know it sucks. I repeat, I have done it the past four years. I was the one who had to gather all the lists to put in the Commencement program, I know exactly how many names are on it. But it still has to be done. It’s not optional, unlike the busy work I gave you to do before.

Get over it, Martyr. Just do your fucking job and stop complaining so I can do mine as well.

Permalink

Pet PEEves

Filed Under: Academic Office Monkey, Rants by Julie — Comments Off
February 23, 2006

Image hosting by Photobucket
Stars, Time Warner Center

One of the “perks” of my office is that we have our own bathroom. All the rest of the offices in this building, with the possible exception of the President’s Office, are bathroom-less. They have to go out and use the public bathrooms with the students.

Sounds like my office has a good deal going, doesn’t it? Until you figure out that there are about twenty of us in this office and the bathroom has one toilet. I imagine it’s a lot like what large families with one bathroom go through. If someone is in our bathroom, we wait in line, because no one wants to use the public bathrooms – they’re gnasty. But unlike a large family, I can’t get everyone together and have a Come to Jesus talk about how we keep the bathroom clean because we are not animals. That’s why I have a blog, so I can vent.

Come To Jesus, People. In no particular order, the list of bathroom rules that my co-workers’ families should have taught them:

  • Don’t pee on the seat. Come ON, didn’t your mother teach you this?
  • If you are a little monkey and pee on the seat, WIPE IT UP. Don’t leave your pee droplets on the seat for the next unsuspecting bathroom user to sit in, you gnasty little animal!
  • If you decide that you are going to lift the seat and pee like a boy even though you’re a girl, remember to put the seat back down. Just because you wanted to put your fingers on toilet seat does not mean I want to.
  • For the love of all that is holy, FLUSH THE DAMN TOILET! I don’t want to see any evidence of your last meal or the fact that you’re on the rag when I go to the bathroom. That is too much information for me. I don’t talk to you outside of work, what makes you think that I want to know this much about you?
  • If you leave a log, drop an otter, bake some brownies, whatever you want to call it, use the air freshener. It’s sitting on the sink for a reason, and you’ve just left that reason behind. There is no reason the next person in has to gag on the stench.

I am not paid enough to go through this once, let alone several times a week. We’re all adults, aren’t we? If my mother could drill good bathroom etiquette into my head at a young age, why the hell couldn’t yours?

Permalink

Tax Time Sux

Filed Under: Rants by Julie — Comments Off
February 18, 2006

I am generally a person who enjoys tax time, because I get a refund every year. A refund that allows me to get myself one really cool treat for myself. One year it helped pay for a laptop. One year, my iPod mini.

This year, I was going to be all responsible and use it to pay down my credit card debt. So of course this is the year that my taxes become incredibly complicated, even with the help of Turbo Tax, simply because I made $1,000 as a dramaturg last year. Suddenly Turbo Tax is telling me that I need to file all sorts of forms that I never filed before, declare myself a business…it’s crazy. What the hell button did I press to start this insanity, and how can I get it to stop? I don’t think I’m a business, dammit. I think that I made $1,000, which I am perfectly willing to pay taxes on, for artistic services rendered. To me, this does NOT constitute a business.

For years, everyone here has been telling me to get an accountant. I’m starting to think they’re right. Dammit anyway.

Permalink

Pick up your shit, Dick.

Filed Under: In Da Hood, Politically Incorrect, Rants by Julie — Comments Off
February 16, 2006

Image hosting by Photobucket
Jesus. In a telephone booth. Flanked by cocks. On top of an ironworks. In Brooklyn. Because where else would he be?

Between that photo description and my post title, I am sure going to be getting some interesting blog hits today.

This morning I noticed something that I hate about winter in New York City. The “hey, there’s snow on the ground, I couldn’t find my dog’s shit amongst all the snow drifts, therefore I don’t have to clean it up” syndrome. Uh, no. You saw where your dog squatted, there is a brown-tinged hole there, clean it up. Don’t leave it to be discovered as the snow melts like a plane wreck in the Andes. There is nothing I hate more than stepping on snowed-in dog shit. You own a dog, take responsibility and clean up after it.

And speaking of taking responsibility (how was that for a segue, huh?) you might have noticed that I have avoided all mentions of the Dick Cheney shooting gallery of friends on this blog. Lest you think that I am losing my liberal edge, I’ll have you know that the day I first heard about it, I called three people and left messages on their answering machines saying “Did you hear Cheney shot his friend on a hunting trip? What a jackass!”. This newsflash was followed in all cases by hysterical laughter. In fact I didn’t mention it here because, dude, it’s too easy. Rather like shooting fish in a barrel. (Hm, I wonder if Cheney could do that without wounding anyone? Sorry, had to say it.)

But as days have passed and the whole situation has gotten more and more ludicrous, I feel like I have to comment. Because for starters, if you or I had shot someone in a hunting accident, we wouldn’t be talking to reporters, we’d be cooling our heels in jail. It must be good to be the Vice President on that score alone. You know what else makes it good to be the Vice President? That you can go out and eat dinner while your friend is in a hospital room because you put him there and get away with saying that you feel “kind of bad” about the whole thing. And then you could basically maintain media silence until your friend had a heart attack because one of the pellets you shot him with hit his heart. And your statement about the whole thing? Yep, it’s your fault, said with a kind of nonchalance that makes me feel sorry for your friend, because obviously you don’t really care that much. You can always tell if someone is sorry by looking into their eyes when they apologize. Dick Cheney? Not sorry. Rather stone-like, on the whole. Pretty scary-looking, truth be told.

Know what sealed the deal for me? When I heard his alleged first words after he shot his friend: “I did not see you there.” You just fucking shot your friend, you watched him crumple to the ground in front of you, and that’s the best you can do? Your impression of a Vulcan? Does that sound a little too formal and emotionless to anyone else? If I were in that situation, I’d be beside myself saying “Holy shit! I didn’t see you there! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” But maybe that’s just me.

You know, the person who thinks that people should clean up after their dogs, even when there’s snow on the ground.

Permalink

Rants and a Rave

Filed Under: About a Julz, Academic Office Monkey, In Da Hood, Rants by Julie — Comments Off
February 9, 2006

Image hosting by Photobucket
Bentley Hall ~Meadville, PA

Last night at Stitch n Bitch Knitting Circle (we can’t say SnB anymore because of the brouhaha), Kerissa asked me why it was so important to Steeler fans that the Bus get a ring. Many good players have retired without winning a Super Bowl, she pointed out. Why made the Bus so special?

Wow. How to explain something that is so ingrained into Steeler fan mentality? That Jerome Bettis is an amazing player is one reason, he is the NFL’s fifth-leading rusher of all time. That’s going to get him to Canton a few years from now, and it helped earn Steeler fan loyalty. In his earlier seasons, if the Bus had rushed for 100 yards or more during a game, it was a pretty sure sign we were going to win the game; he was our barometer. But Kerissa was right, there have been a lot of good players who didn’t get a Super Bowl ring before they retired.

So why Bettis? That man has been the heart of the Steelers team for the past ten years. I never saw one game where he phoned it in or didn’t put his whole heart into what he was doing. And every time he extricated himself from a pile of tacklers, he had a grin on his face like he was having the time of his life. This is a man who knew that for his job, he got to go out and play. And he enjoyed it. He made it fun for everyone watching him and playing ball with him. Too many players today forget that and think that they are entitled to everything that comes to them. Dude, you’re playing a fucking game while the rest of us are stuck in offices or other suck-jobs. You have it good. The Bus never forgot how lucky he was to make a living out of something he loved. He took pay cuts to keep playing with the Steelers – how many players out there would do that? He felt awful when his teammates were traded, and I think he took each of those trades to heart. Earlier this year when Hines Ward’s contract negotiations were going nowhere, Bettis called Coach Cowher to help them along. He was a mentor to the younger players – some of my favorite memories this year were watching him talking to Willie Parker on the sidelines, giving him tips. And to top all of this off, the Bus is a sweetheart.

The Bus is the reason we made it to the Super Bowl this year. When Tommy Maddox had all but destroyed our Super Bowl hopes while Big Ben was injured, the team rallied around the idea of getting the Bus home to Detroit and made one of the greatest comebacks in NFL history. He should be getting an award for being a great human being. But since they don’t have awards for that, I’ll settle for getting the man a ring.

And now for the rants, because I am not deserving of the great human being award.

Why do I have to explain things fifty million times to my staff? And they always act like it’s the first time they’ve heard it. Today’s examples: how to count credits for a degree (hi, we’re Degree Audit, we should have mastered this long ago, Martyr), and how to type a line on Word. I am not kidding. We have a form letter that needs to be filled out for certain students, and because Counter Lady has such bad handwriting, we insist that she do it on the computer. She is forever coming to my desk to ask me “How do I make this go on the next line? What did you press?”. If I go stark raving mad soon, you’ll know why. The next time we get to hire someone for this office, I am insisting that computer skills are a must. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to get someone in here that I don’t have to explain the fundamentals (“Where did the little bar at the bottom go?” “You mean the taskbar? How the hell do you lose that so often?”) to.

I had another rant, but I lost it. Dammit. That’s what happens when you start a post and are still writing it two hours later because of idiotic interruptions. Dammit.

Permalink

A cautionary tale

Filed Under: Rants, Story Time by Julie — Comments Off
February 3, 2006

Image hosting by Photobucket
Star ~Time Warner Center

Wednesday night I went out into the wilds of Park Slope (shut up, there are wilds in Park Slope) to my first Stitch n Bitch. I know you guys aren’t into the knitting/spinning scene, so I won’t bore you with that. What follows is a cautionary tale of poor bathroom etiquette.

There is only one bathroom in the coffee house we were stitching and bitching at, and so men and women were both using it at regular intervals. Before I left I decided I should use the facilities as well, because you can never tell how long the subway will take.

I went into the bathroom and noticed that the last male in had left the seat up. Poor unisex bathroom, etiquette, gentlemen! You found the seat down, please return it to the down position when you are finished. I went to lower the seat, and the lid, not wanting to be left behind, came smashing down on my thumb. Remember those old cartoons where whatever body part is injured starts throbbing and swelling to epic proportions? That’s what this felt like. The damn toilet lid had caught my thumb right on the edge of the cuticle and left me with a nice little blood blister at the top of my thumbnail. And while the nail is not black at the moment, I have a feeling that there is a nice little surprise waiting to emerge as it grows out, in the form of either a bruise below the nail or a split nail. Two days later, that fucker still hurts, and that is never a good sign.

So you see, gentlemen, your laziness when it comes to putting the seat down when you have finished is not merely laziness. It’s negligence. And the woman you hurt may hunt you down and kick your ass if she can figure out who did it. Watch your asses.

Permalink

Dude, lay off the air brakes!

Filed Under: In Da Hood, Rants by Julie — Comments Off
January 12, 2006

I could have sworn I’ve posted before about the annoying habit of many MTA bus drivers to use their air brakes like a weapon. But upon searching my archives, no. No, I have not. So I will now.

Lots of bus drivers are a little heavy on the brakes. Heavy is a relative term here, and can be used to describe both the chick that taps her brakes a lot and the guy who stomps on the damn things and sends all the riders flying. MTA drivers have a love affair with their brakes. MTA riders do not.

This morning, determined to make it into work (because three sick days in a row requires a note from your doctor and I don’t want to go to the doctor), I dosed myself on Tylenol Cold and Rick gave me elderberry extract. (Side note: Rick is the best boyfriend in the world. He came over last night, forced cough medicine on me – yeah, we know it doesn’t work – made me drink ecchinacea and goldenseal tea, stuck my head over a steaming pot of chamomile tea so the steam could help my breathing, and poured several spoonfuls of elderberry tea for me. Everything except the cold medicine helped.)

Upon reflection, I should have eaten before I took cold medicine. I am aware of this, but it was a busy morning. Jesse peed on the floor this morning so I had to clean that up, then his shot, new food and water, and cleaning up the litterboxes. Of course the Litter Locker bag ran out in the middle of that, so I had to put all the litter in a bag and take the trash down. So, with all of that going on and a lunch to pack, I didn’t eat my granola till I got on the train and was already feeling nauseous.

I felt briefly better while I was waiting for the bus. It’s mid-40s here this morning, the sun is shining, and it felt good to be outside. But when I got on the bus, I knew I was in for it. Guy was stomping on the air brakes like he was trying to stop the bus from sliding off a cliff into hell. Mister Bus Driver, it was only a couple of yeshiva boys crossing the road half a block away! No need to spazz!

I opened the window by my seat and pressed my face to it like my dog used to. I prayed that I could get off a couple of stops early, then looked up and saw the “Limited” sign in the window. Foiled again. Limited busses don’t stop at every corner by my work. Only in front of my work. By the time I got off the bus, I had thrown up a little in my mouth. Literally. Came into the office, and spent much of my first hour in the bathroom. I’m feeling better now, and my boss has told me to go lay down on the sofa in the back, but so far, so good. I’m sipping a Coke, have eaten all of my granola, and should be fine until the 1 PM meeting I have with the Dean’s Office. After that, though, I’m going home. Hope my return trip doesn’t include as many little stops as this morning’s did.

Permalink

What the hell?

Filed Under: Random Insanity, Rants by Julie — Comments Off
November 14, 2005

Image hosted by Photobucket.com
The Mine-ha-ha, Lake George, NY

Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s November, is it not? The middle of November at that? So what in the hell was a mosquito doing in my house last night? How did it get there? Aren’t those little bastards all supposed to be dead by this time of year?

I woke up around 1:30 when I became conscious that I was scratching in my sleep. Scratching my wrist and arm, which I found out when I turned on the light, were both sporting impressive bug bites the size of my thumb. Because I’d been scratching for a while, no doubt. I threw off the blankets, shook them out in case there were spiders or other biting fiends hiding in them, and put some Cortaid on my bites. I shut the light and tried to focus on going back to sleep instead of how much my arms itched. And then I heard that high-pitched whine.

I turned the lights back on, looked back, and saw the mosquito on my pillow. I slapped at it, but the little shit took flight and I missed him. So I shut the light back off and lay back down with my entire body covered by a sheet. Mosquitos find you by the carbon dioxide you emit when you exhale; I wasn’t going to make it easier for that fucker to find me. After about five minutes with the sheet over my head, it was hot and hard to breathe. I decided this approach was getting me nowhere fast, so I threw the sheet off and decided to use myself as bait.

Two hours later, flyswatter and two cats in bed with me, the mosquito came back. I heard him in my ear and slapped at it. I turned the light back on, but didn’t find any little insect corpses. I still don’t know if I got the fucker, but at 4 AM I was just too tired to care anymore. I went back to sleep, and woke up this morning with at least six bites. And that’s why I’m drinking my second diet soda of the day. Julie doesn’t function on less than 5 hours of sleep.

Side note: Why is my boss always surprised when she asks “Do you want to go to this meeting?” and I say “No”? If you want me to go to the damned meeting, tell me, but don’t ask what I want to do or you will be unhappy with the answer.

Other side note: Why, oh why, have the football gods deserted my Steelers? Yes, we won last night, but now Charlie Batch’s hand is broken and we are left with Tommy Maddox, who did his best to blow a 20 point lead last night? Tommy Maddox should not be allowed to throw. He should have to hand off all the time. Better yet, they should make Antwaan Randle El our quarterback over Tommy. They showed clips of Randle El’s college career as a quarterback last night and he can actually throw, unlike Tommy. If I sucked at my job as badly as Tommy Maddox sucks at his, I would get fired. Do you hear that, Bill Cowher? Normal bosses FIRE INCOMPETENT PEOPLE, not put them into pressure situations. Freakin’ Maddox.

Permalink

Monday

Filed Under: Drama Queen, Rants by Julie — Comments Off
April 12, 2004

Happy Monday, people. Pleh. Mondays suck. Why don’t we just have three day weekends every weekend? I can’t bitch too much, though. It’s noon and I’m at home in my jammies, typing up a study guide that is going to be given to the high school kids that see “The Bourgeois Gentleman”. Rough going at times, but it’s cool to see the finished product up on the company’s website.

Had a kickass rehearsal last night. The tech crew was building our set last night (this company is a repertory company, so we’ve been rehearsing on the sets of the shows that have been running), so we had a speed through in the lobby. 1 hour, 45 minutes, baby. And that’s with music and dancing. We rock! Oh, if you’re in the NYC area and are interested in seeing the show, email me (contact info is now on the side), and I’ll let you know which theatre it’s with. Not going to put that up in lights for everyone to see! :)

And now, a gripe. Another theatre company that I am associated with (*not* the one I am doing “BG” with) is taking advantage of me. I have been their resident dramaturg for two years now, and at first I had a weekly stipend. Not a huge one, but life was nicer with it. Then they told me they could no longer afford the stipend. I said, fine, and in the interest of the company stayed on, attending weekly readings and providing feedback, working with playwrights, etc. for free. I still did all their production dramaturgy and got paid for the shows I worked on.

Then I started working with other companies, and my “resident” company got a little snippy. I can’t prove it, but I have a feeling that this is why I was not asked to work on two of their productions this year. They did not feel that they needed a dramaturg for them. Fine, whatever. A couple of weeks ago, I saw my name on the draft of a grant they were writing. They had listed me as “key personnel,” along with the Artistic Directors. They’re using my name to get money that I never see!

And then this week…through this company, I went to Nebraska last summer and taught at a college playwrighting workshop with a few other company members. We had a blast, and are making plans to come back this year. The man in charge at the college and I are friends, and we started discussing ideas for this year’s program as soon as I left last year. Among them was that Rick come out with us this year so that there could be an acting component. We were totally in agreement about this. I talked to him (my Nebraskan friend) this weekend while he was in town, and he is still 100% behind this. But I have heard that our pay this year will come not from the college we will be teaching at (like it did last year), but funneled through this theatre company. And our pay rates are going down as a result, and Rick is supposedly not getting paid anything???

Excuse me, but FUCK that. I am no longer officially on payroll to this company. Rick has never been on payroll to this company. Another person coming out with us has never been on payroll to this company. There is, in fact, only one person coming out with us who is on payroll to this company. Funding for the rest of us should not come through this company, especially if they are skimming off the top (as it appears that they are), and not paying Rick at all. I am so fucking pissed right now, I want to take the managing director and rip his balls off. You do *not* fuck with me or my boy like this. This is not how to reward my loyalty to a company I have stuck with through thick and thin.

I sent said Managing Director an email requesting a meeting. I would tell him my points in an email, but he has a nasty habit of ignoring my emails. So, if he wants to play hardball, we’ll play hardball. And in then end, I’ll get what I want or I’ll walk. I still teach this summer, but as freelance with the college, not through this company. I’m tired of being fucked without so much as a kiss.

And now, rant over, I will go back to working on the study guide.

Permalink

Bad Behavior has blocked 679 access attempts in the last 7 days.