Friday, April 8

"So I came here straight from work just now, right.."

"Right."

"And I was coming up off the train, and I realized I locked my boyfriend inside my house this morning."

"You did WHAT? Is that even possible?"

"Yeah, see, there's a metal gate over my front door, and.. I left him sleeping upstairs and I meant to leave the gate open. And I didn't bring my phone with me so he couldn't call."

"Oh, Jesus, that's really excellent. Is he still there? Did you call him?"

"Yeah. He said he was reading Nietzsche and playing Worms World Party, and he didn't have classes today anyway, so he was okay. But I can't go unlock him until rehearsal lets out at four, and I don't have TV or Internet anymore, or really any food. So basically I'm the worst girlfriend ever. It's like I'm Kathy Bates and he's that, you know, the other dude from Misery."

"That's classic. Good luck with the damage control on that one, Warden."

"Fuck, wait a minute.. I think.. Oh, God, I forgot my music for this rehearsal, too, didn't I? Fuck. This is the worst day of my entire life."

"Did you lock it inside your house with your boyfriend?"

"I think maybe I did."

(#1 is from March 4.)

Wednesday, April 6

Lo! I quote yon CNN article for thee, readers, and all shall weep and tear their hair in disbelief at the horrors that art Western capitalists, yo:

"Companies need to do their best to not only protect their interests but protect their employees," says Jeremy Wright, fired blogger and founder of InsideBlogging, a blog consulting company."

Italics mine. Because, sorry, a what?

Dude! I want a blog consultant. There's just so much pressure to keep myself and my three regular readers mildly entertained. (Hi guys!) I mean, what if, say, I spent seven hours drinking last night after class and now I just couldn't think of anything even remotely coherent to say on any topic?

"Hello, Jeremy? Jaime here.. fine, fine, how's the wife? Great, that's great. Listen, we're stuck on this entry about my resizable black sparkly fishnet G-string, and the piece needs to be in by tonight for maximum cross-linkage potential and readership-distribution quotient.

"That's right. Well.. we can't decide whether to call it 'High Maintenance Stripper' or 'Chorus Line Extra.' Hmm? No, no.. Jeremy, this description is the crux of the whole entry. If we don't hook them here, they'll click away without even scrolling down to the bit about the asshole frat boys on the subway.. right. Right.

"You think so? Great. Not too specific? ...Okay, 'High Maintenance Stripper' it is, I'll get on that right away. What about the sidebar, is the font too small? ...Right, but look at it on Safari.. No? Okay, then, must be my screen.

"We're having a little trouble developing content these days, too.. yeah, grad school's a bitch. Do you guys think you could.. yeah? Excellent, great... yeah, for tomorrow's entry, we're in a period of growth here at Essay House.. Not sure, we've been lobbing around a few ideas.. maybe something about my high school? If we work in something about all the film nuts I used to hang out with, that could be a real link goldmine... maybe put up a new celebrity-themed background.. Okay, great, great, we'll look for that on the site tomorrow, then. Bill me at home like usual, okay? Great. Keep in touch."

Thank God I only drank for five hours last night. Seven would have been overkill on a Tuesday.

Monday, April 4, 2005

Me: "Hi! Here you go."

David Foster Wallace(!) (reading the Postit with my dedication on it): "Thanks. Okay, let's see.. To Marie.. and Erik? Are these people in a stable relationship?"

Me: "Um, I think so. I mean, they just got married."

DFW(!): "Because these double-dedications can be dangerous, you know. I mean, what if they break up or something? Then you have to decide who gets the book. It can be sort of a situation."

Me: "Oh. Uh. I never thought of that. Well, I don't think it will be a problem. They seem to like each other okay. I guess they could always just give it back or something."

DFW(!): "Well, I'm sure it'll be fine. So they got married? So congratulations are in order... from...?"

Me: "Jaime."

DFW(!) (writes): "To.. Marie... and Erik.. congratulations! From Jaime.. "

Me: "Some people have told me they don't think this book makes an appropriate wedding present."

DFW(!): "Well, the one marriage story in it isn't a very happy story. But there's not a lot in it about marriage, so I guess it could work."

Me: "I think they were thinking the title wasn't such a good sentiment for a new marriage.. Oblivion, I mean."

DFW(!): "Oh, well, maybe."

Me: "I figured it was better than A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again."

DFW(!): "Heh, probably.." (hands the book back) "Okay, have a good evening!"

This is what mad social skillz I have: they've been married almost a year now and I STILL HAVEN'T GIVEN THEM THEIR FUCKING BOOK yet. Because I'm not done with it. And it was even supposed to be a makeup gift for the time I left their copy of Infinite Jest on a park bench in Yellowstone and the rangers sent it back two years later. Like, haha, happy wedding, we all love David Foster Wallace, here, he sends his regards.

Neat idea, wasn't it? When I thought of it? Last May? I found the autographed copy of Oblivion sitting in my fucking bed this morning. Emily Post, she spits at my feet.