Fondest greetings from the land where the sun shines. Since this blog is essentially about nothing and everything, I suppose I should just jump right into the day’s intrigues.
First of all, I have a job. An awesome one. I’m very pleased with it and I’m anxious to learn more and keep on keeping on.
Secondly, sometimes it is slow and to occupy my mind without taking my mind off the work to be done, I will amuse myself with quotes. Today, out of something much further than left field, I begin to say, “Chanticleer, Chanticleer, Chanticleer.” in my mind.I began wondering, shortly thereafter, where this came from.
Curse you, Don Bluth!I can’t believe that after 15 years of not seeing a film that is, well, sub par at best, I began to call upon my childhood memories and a flood of second-rate - didn’t make the Disney cut - songs came streaming into my consciousness. That’s right, the film I speak of is Rock-a-Doodle (1991).I began to sing, “Sun do shine.” And I even started singing the Tying your shoes song…whatever it’s adorable title is. It really isn’t a bad movie, but it is perhaps the most obsolete thing I could have possibly conjured up on this day of all days, or really, any day.
Furthermore, there were two very slow hours at work today in which there were no tasks and everyone was basically gone to lunch. I decided I would work on my calligraphy while I sat by the phones. And what phrase, do you suppose, I wrote over and over and over again while waiting for the phones to ring?
“We Built this City on Rock and Roll. We Built this City on Rock and Roll. We Built this City on Rock and Roll….etc.”
I will be accepting donations for my admittance into a sanitarium on any day and in any form. I do accept checks, but a cashiers check is preferred.
Lastly, if an older woman that goes after a younger man is called a Cougar, what is the traditional way called again? Hefnerism? I’m not sure. Anyway, there seems to be a great deal of Hefnerism running rampant in this City (built on rock and roll). Last week, in one day, I was hit on by 3 (THREE) men who were not just my father’s age, but older. One of them looked like Dennis Hopper..and in hindsight…I believe it was Dennis Hopper. I would protect his innocence, but come on….it’s Dennis Hopper!
Anyway, I had just about had enough of it that day. I was just winding down by ordering my favorite dish at my favorite Chinese restaurant down the street, and BAM! I was Hefnered. So much so that I had to excuse myself and pretend to take a phone call. Yes, that’s right. I faked a phone call and literally pretended to be speaking to a business colleague for the entirety of 10 minutes until my food was finished. I didn’t walk, I FLEW to my car. Being confronted with Hefnerism gives you wings. You don’t need RedBull.
Anyway, I am liking it here more and more and I am also increasingly confused. I’ve got a lot to learn.