The Rules of Boater Shopping

I must have missed the memo. Apparently every boater immigrant who lives in America must shop like they did back home. If you were to find such memo, it would probably look something like the following-

Hello, How you are? You live in country with styoobid leaders bas nice stores. You must shob like smart berson. Not styoobid idiot. Here how:

1. Say "I want...(so and so)" and "Give me (so and so), not 'may I' or 'can I?' or 'can you'. Only styoobid peoples say this. Ex.- "I want the calling card" or "Give me Shawirma" or "Give me that".

2. Always ask, "You speak Arabic?" or "You speak Urdu?" It not matter where are you living. They must speak your language.

3. If you want the bread, ask for it in your language, no matter where you from and where workers from.

4. Order sandwich like you order coffee at the Stars and Bucks. Say, "Give me Shawirma. Give me no pickles. Give me light spice. Give me no onions. I want well done. Give me extra sauce. That first sandwich. For second sandwich, give me..."

5. Comblain on prices. They are so, so expensive. 'Why the bread cost this much? Why the sandwich cost this much? Why the yogurt cost this much?' It is too much! If you buy many things, and cost is too high for you, you say "WOW! That is too much!" Sometimes screaming like monkey in jungle (even if you are dragging oxygen tank around) helbs to lower price.

6. Say, "You looks tired" to workers. They can not hear it enough.

7. Ask for workers to cut sandwiches 10 minutes after you get sandwiches. It not matter if there are 20 beoble in front of you.

8. Leave shobbing carts 8 miles away from store. Workers like searching for carts.

9. Ask for white sauce ingredients. We want the secret. Keeb asking until someone is styoopid and tells you secret.

10. Ask for calling card that you see not there. Then act very, very disabboint. Stand there for 10 minutes to decide what to do next. More drama, better.

And that was memo for today. Make sure you bring your bad kids to leave chocolate bieces all over floor. They must be loud.

one thousand and one thanks,

Boater in Chief

Life Reflections in Disney

I'm an over-analyzer. So much so, in fact, that I prefer essay questions in tests over multiple choice. Maybe because I prefer to prove how much I understand in writing (figures), but multiple choice questions make me feel like the poster child for ADHD. My mind often works like this...

Ok, I want to choose A, because B sounds stupid. But wouldn't C, all of the above, ACTUALLY WORK? Is that what the instructor wants me to choose? You know, technically...hey, is that a bagel? I didn't know you could bring bagels into the test. Wait, I hope no one sees me looking. I'm not cheating. I don't have to cheat. I studied. Crap, I've been spending at least 2 minutes on this question. That average time wasted per question won't leave me enough time to finish this exam. So A, B, or C? Ok, I have to skip this and come back. I hope my stomach growling is not loud enough to distract other people. I think the person next to me just flinched. I'm sorry that it sounds like the Hulk is trying to get out of my stomach. I ate 2 hours ago. I thought I was good. Didn't someone say that C is most likely the correct answer if you can't decide? Or should I go with my initial choice. Damn this teacher and his trickery! Damn him!

I wish I could honestly tell you this is an exaggeration. But it is not. So now you understand the scope of my problem. That said, I was thinking about famous characters from Disney and how they actually represent people you may come across in life. Some of these character traits are a little exaggerated (unless someone is literally trying to usurp your rightful place as king, for example) and some are pretty much right on. You decide who these people represent in your life. In no particular order:

1. Beast (Beauty and the Beast, duh): Looks tough, but is sensative deep down inside. Tries to hide sensativity with a crazy temper. Probably Arab-which explains the hairyness.

2. Captain Hook (Peter Pan): The person that won't let something go. There's persistance and then there's obsessive. Seriously, just let go. It'll improve your health.

3. Centipede (James and the Giant Peach): The person that doesn't know their boundaries. They will keep going until they literally put your group in danger or fighting ensues. Don't be surprised if the cops get involved. Everyone's yelled at them at some point.

4. Doc (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs): The person too old to be hanging out with you. They should probably hang it up and join some sort of harmless, organized fun (i.e. Bingo). Otherwise they'll complain about how their wild days are over the whole time.

5. Dory (Nemo): You hated them to begin with. They still say the stupidest things. It took you a while to appreciate them, but you eventually came around. You might even enjoy their company now. Tell 'em you used to hate them just for the hell of it. They won't care.

6. Fifi the Featherduster (Beauty and the Beast) : Known for promiscuity and sex appeal. This person ain't called the "featherduster" for no reason. (See also-Jessica Rabbit of Who Framed Roger Rabbit)

7. Flotsam and Jetsam (The Little Mermaid): Every a-hole has an entourage. They do nothing but encourage the idiocy of said a-hole. They laugh at all the jokes, provide annoying commentary on mundane situations, and plot evil things. Their eyes might give it away.

8. Flounder (The Little Mermaid): The Robin to your Batman. What's the saying? "A Friend Is Someone Who Will Bail You out of Jail, but Your Best Friend Is the One Sitting next to you Saying 'That Was F***ing Awesome!" (see also-Timon and Pumbaa of The Lion King)

9. Gaston (Beauty and the Beast): Initially thought to be good looking until they spoke. You now wonder why the admiration for their looks ever existed. Looks don't make up for stupid or crazy.

10. Meeko (Pocahontas): How did they get in? You don't know. They're just there.

11. Abu (Aladdin): OH, haha, right...wait...what? Usually nonsensical, this person seems to be around for some talent you apparently can't do without. (See also-Rafiki of The Lion King)

12. Cogsworth (Beauty and the Beast): The little b*tch- always there to tell you what you can't do and why you can't. (See also- Sebastion of The Little Mermaid, Zazu of The Lion King)

13. Scar (The Lion King): As if this weren't obvious...the backstabber. They also may attempt to usurp you from your rightful place as King, depending on your standing in life.

14. Tinker Bell (Peter Pan): The jealous type. There for drama. Usually a victim of responsible for unresolved issues.

15. Thumper (Bambi): The know it all. They correct you even when they're wrong. What you wouldn't give to punch them in the ovaries.

16. Tigger (The Many Adventures of Winny the Poo): An endless source of inexplicable energy. There's no reason to see them late at night or early in the morning.

17. Eeyore (The Many Adventures of Winny the Poo): On suicide watch. The glass is not half empty, it is shattered and currently being used as a weapon to cut themselves with to "feel something".

18. Scuttle (The Little Mermaid): Misinformation extraordinaire. If you want the most fantastic load of crap you've ever heard, you'll probably hear it from this person. They don't mean to lie, but they can't help that they're slow.

19. Pinocchio (Pinocchio): You need to call them on their bull crap or they'll keep at it. "Oh, I didn't know we were supposed to meet at 7!" Stop lying, you LIAR! You and Thumper are such @$$holes!

20. Cheshire Cat (Alice in Wonderland): Creepster. Everyone else seems to like them, but you still don't trust them (and rightfully so). See also: Everyone else in Alice in Wonderland.

Foggy Information

There was a fog that passed through St. Louis for over a week. Some people said it gave St. Louis a nightmarish quality. It reminded them of what they imagined the end of the world would look like. Most just complained they were simply uncomfortable with the feeling of not being able to see out of this small confined space as they drove.

No one can deny the uneasiness that accompanies uncertainty. Your main focus is to get to your destination safely. You're too busy focusing on the few feet you can see around you. Thinking about the vulnerability of driving a vehicle over 60 miles an hour surrounded by a thick layer of cloud that impedes your vision is enough to make a sane person panic. You have to fight the urge to pull over and just wait til the gloom leaves the area. But who knows how long it'll last. So everyone keeps driving because they have to get home.

...the foggy drive is one big flipping metaphor for life. Have you read a newspaper or seen the news? The only thing public officials are really good at is making one bad decision after another. Why are we flooded with this nonsense CNN calls news. How does it really affect us if Brangelina break up? Why are there a few hours a day devoted to celebrity gossip on that station? Look, there are hundreds of people who go missing every day. Why is only one girl who went went missing after a Metallica concert getting all the attention? I'm sure there are thousands of parents who are worried about their missing children. Why are there only five kids (give or take) whose name and face we've been forced to memorize and prioritize above the rest? Why are more questions being asked than answered?

...I'm sick of people complaining about helping Haiti. "We don't even have money to fix our economy" they claim. Apparently we don't have ANY money to help some surviving orphans and a country destroyed by a natural disaster. But we have enough money to support two ridiculous wars overseas. I love the misplaced outrage. It could be considered charming if we were Klingons. tlhIngan maH!

...(Hypocrite alert!) What I'm about to say is absolutely and ridiculously unimportant and miniscule in the grand scheme of things. I understand it goes against the point I was just trying to make...but I would love to meet the head of NBC and ask him "Why?" before I drop-kick him. There have been few things in my life that I could rely on over the past ten years. One is my anger at Israel's racist policies and Apartheid, and America's blinding support. Another is my mother's instinct to force-feed me. And the other is Conan O'Brien. He was there when I first came back to America and fell in love with his "Inappropriate" skits in which he played a British rocker who yelled "Inappropriate!" when someone did something like fart in an elevator. He gave us insulting, comic dogs and masturbating bears. And he pulled levers (and on my heart strings) to give us the most magnificent clips in the history of television in the form of Walker: Texas Ranger. And then, just like that, he was taken away from us. I hate you, N.B.C. I hate you. (**sniffle**)

...I always enjoy Congress's displays when they know there's a T.V. on them. This includes Obama's State of the Union address. I've broken down the speech as so---

1. The minority leader of the House is (R)Boehner. Is that pronounced like I think it is?
2. Democrats and Republicans can agree on quite a few things, believe it or not! Things like:

• They do NOT accept second place for America.
• They both like Nuclear Power Plants (an image of Homer Simpson just popped into my head)
• They love the idea of off-shore oil drilling (Oil is to Congress as blood is to Edward Cullen).
• They love community colleges!
• They like Michelle Obama tackling childhood obesity. (They must really HATE fat kids!)
• They like bringing DOWN the deficit (who knew!?)
• They hate lobbyists! All of them! Every single one of them hates those lousy lobbyists and would never have anything to do with them!
• They want to restore "Pay As You Go".
• They think it's funny to have monthly meetings between Republicans and Democrats.
• They...wait for it...SUPPORT NATIONAL SECURITY (Where is this coming from?! Who are these people?!)
• They support ending the wars (that they started) and sending troops home (some day).
• Everybody thought the story of the 8 year old boy from Louisiana sending his allowance to Pres. Obama to help the people of Haiti was the cutest thing ever. They all AW'ed to which I thought, "keep these people away from your children". By the way, they do not think Palestinian children are cute. I've just deduced this.

Anyways, that's all you need to know about that. 2010 is all about jobs. Healthcare Reform is so 2009.

...As we swat away all this information flying at our faces in the hope of catching a glimpse of truth behind it all, we focus on the little things around us that make sense. The weather (sort of), T.V. shows like Lost or Glee (or whatever makes you happy), what sort of people we want to surround us in life. We are an ambitious generation with unlimited potential and a limited number of jobs. And so we try to control what we can. Do I get caramel or Mocha? 8 GB or 16 GB? Do I go out or save gas money? Because everyone is lying to us about Healthcare Reform. Everyone is lying to us about foreign policy. Everyone is lying to us about whether or not they took steroids or why they did. Sometimes fighting the fog feels pointless. Maybe you just keep driving and hope it clears up. That's why you gotta admire the people who forge into the thickness of it and look for clarity.

2010 is the new 2000

Someone admitted to me earlier today that they're glad 2009 is almost over and that it would be a forgettable year. I believe them because I do not recall any of it. The only thing I remember is leaving my job and being on an endless search (still going strong) for another. I guess 2009 will be known as the forgettable year. Oh. Wait. It could also be known as the death parade of celebrities. Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, David Carradine, Patrick Swayze, the guy who sold everything in commercials... and the list goes on and on. If you were a celebrity and you survived this year, congratulations. Especially you, Britney. Although,there are still a few weeks left.

Let's go for an optimistic read on next year. Things can only go up, right? Except for Tiger. Things look like they're getting worse. Sorry, Tiger, but you're kind of a man-wh*re. Someone put a leash on that guy.

What can we look forward to in 2010?

1.) Saying 2010 as "twenty ten". It's so futuristic. Plus, saying "two thousand and..." was so draining.

2.) The "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" movies. At least the first one, anyway. I'm kind of sad that the movies will be done too. So, let's add the Harry Potter Disney theme park on here. Destination-Orlando, Florida baby!

3.) Visiting the old country. I want to see the grandfolks, Aunts, Uncles, fruit trees, rolling hills, stray cats, graffiti'ed walls,harassing jobless buffoons, and unrepentant jaywalkers, baby. I want it all.

4.) My new job! (The glass is half full in "twenty ten".)

5.) My slamming new body! (The glass is actually over flowing in "twenty ten".)

6.)More Twilight movies! (The glass is also covered with images of Edward Cullen and Jacob, and sold at a Walmart near you)

7.) A Cardinals world series victory. (I'm just being realistic)

8.)Plenty of marriages. None of them probably mine, but it should still be fun.

9.) New trips to places I've never been. What with my new job and all, I should be able to save and afford money for these places. My traveling life has been on hiatus and it's time to take it off the shelf. Too dusty.

10.)More Tiger Woods mistresses revealing themselves. Because Tiger is waaaaay over-par with the ladies. And because this joke was too easy.

That Dirty Grapevine

You know what the deal with Arabs is? It's not our preferrance to include meat in every dish we eat. It's the level of talk. That level, friends, is high. And it's about everyone.

You know the saying "See no evil, hear no evil"? Forget the evil part for the sake of political correctness, please. But Arabs hear and see all. And they talk. It's like some right of passage that every young adult Arab in the United States must fret about the talk as they go out of their way to avoid being spotted by other curious Arabs at some point. Not necessarily because they're doing something wrong, but because the talking snowballs. Any misread moment by the ignorant machine can have scary results.

Choosing the places you hang out is very important. If you know Arabs frequent a certain part of town or store, you'll probably avoid going there just as a preemptive measure. Why risk being interrogated by someone who isn't a member of the C.I.A. just because they've taken it upon themselves to morph into the Judge Judy of Arabs once they've spotted you in public. Even a group of girls will avoid going to a certain establishment because they're afraid the Arab boys who are coincidentally there will go back home and talk. My reaction to these girls has been, "But if we're there and we see them at the same place, why are THEY talking about US? We're doing no more wrong than them!" So the girls say,"We know this. But they still talk about us. We get the hit, not them." And you know what? They're right.

Simply running into someone at the wrong place at the wrong time can mean another hit to your reputation. Your reputation is sort of like a lightweight boxer. It can only take so many hits before it goes down.

We've all had people try to take some jabs. I had an opponent once whose "concern" for me was marred by the fact that he could probably go to a number of different "Insert problem" Anonymous groups. So this elder statesman, whose moral compass is extremely off-kilter, felt it was his duty to inform a member of my family of seeing me at...where-ever the hell I was, you know, just in case. That's the sort of thing that you have to look out for. You want to scream and return the jabs, literally. But you mostly just have to move on.

Arabs have a tendancy to unnecessarily dramatize certain events. Even all the Arab actors over-act. Heck, we talk with our hands, because we need to dramatically act out what we're saying. Words aren't enough! The drama used to be reserved strictly for public occassions or sightings, but the online world has added a new platform to stalk and talk. I cannot, for the life of me, believe that facebook was not created by an Arab. Human beings, by nature, are curious. Arabs, by nature, must know every detail of your life. Arabs are like Androids of Information. If the Terminator were Arab, his mission would be to unearth and retain every single bit of information about John Connor's life and then go share that information with all the other Terminators. And then probably destroy you. Cause Arabs are like the first Terminator, not the second one.

But sweet, sweet facebook. Oh, cyber scene of stalkerdom. Institute of information. The pictures, information, and status updates provide a holy trinity of extra info. that would normally be reserved for close friends and people you see on a semi-regular to regular basis. I understand that the purpose of facebook is to generally stalk, but there are these Arabs out there who befriend you and never talk to you. Those are the ones to watch out for. Also, if their status update reads something like, "You don't know me! You can't judge me!" or "Everyone needs to mind their damn business! Haters!" then I'm probably losing trust in them. My friends with drama-free statuses usually tend to lead drama free lives. There's a reason for that.

Alas, even facebook has privacy settings. Might that our lives have the same option as well.

Arab and the City

Dear World,

My life is nothing like Sex and the City. I never minded ever watching Sex and the City, I wasn't against it like some people, but it wasn't something I was obsessed with. I can say, "hey, that reminds me of that episode where Carrie...." and say what happens next. But if there was ever a game about the show, I probably wouldn't win.

I couldn't get on board with how much sexy-time these people had with strangers. I was raised Muslim. Heck, I couldn't even write "Sex". I had to write "sexy-time". That tells you where I'm coming from. But I consider myself a feminist to a certain extent. I don't think I should tell these fictional characters how to live their lives. No one should say what they're doing is "slutty" and then watch Entourage and cheer on Johnny Chase's extracurricular activities. I hate hypocrites.

Plus I love shoes. What woman doesn't? The fashion was groundbreaking! Carrie wore big flower pins, we all wore big flower pins. Carrie wore patterned panty hose, we wore patterned panty hose. Carrie wore kuffiyahs and, well, Arabs were already doing that...but STILL! Americans started wearing kuffiyahs! The reason I could never feel fully rah-rah with Carrie's life is because of her Big obsession---pun intended. I never liked him. He's a jerk. A cheater. Gross. Anyway...I've lost my train of thought. Oh yes, Muslims and our romantic lives---

I face quite the conundrum. A humdinger, if you will. I don't know how to snag a guy. And I'm not the only one! I have plenty of girl-friends in the same boat. I can also tell you how this situation came to be. Growing up, I remember my mother saying we couldn't have friends who were boys. I would say, "Keith is my friend!" and my mom would say, "Ma-fishee (There is no) Keith! We don't have boys who are friends!" Now, don't get me wrong, mama wasn't a dictatorial arab mother who locked me in my room and didn't allow me to have a social life. She was actually pretty lenient and trusting. I have Arab friends' whose curfew lasted well after high school and worked like this, "If it's night time, you should be at home."

But what about winter, you ask? What about those nights when the sun sets at 5 pm or even earlier? Doesn't matter. Still applied. This always upset me, because these girls were supposedly mature enough to be married and raise families of their own, but not mature or responsible to lead rumor-free social lives!? Never mind rumor-free, because people (and by people, I mean Arabs) always talk...but at least lives their parents could be proud of? I think I've done pretty well. Especially compared to some of these Arabs out there who the elders adore but don't really know, yet insist they've lead saint-like existances. (Gag). I know better. That tells you all you need to know about our elders' ability to judge character.

But I can never claim my mother followed the ways of extreme Arab parenting. But the fear of male friendship was instilled in me. Don't get me wrong, I had guy friends growing up. It's natural to befriend friendly people. (<---You can quote me on that.) But I could never say, "Hey mom! I'm going out with Mohammad and Ahmed!"

We all treaded our friendships very carefully. The Arab guys would hang out with their non-Arab female friends and the Arab girls might have their non-Arab guy friends, but it wasn't easy for the Arabs to mingle without there being a lil' drama. Btw, having platonic relationships with the American friends didn't mean I could bring these guys back to my house and say, "Mom, Dad, meet my friend John!" because my parents would hear, "Mom, Dad, meet my friend John, who will destroy my 'honor', become my lover and be responsible for the down-fall of this family! I'm sure this will inspire a made-for-T.V. movie based on my life as an Arab girl who has to run away from her family with her American boyfriend, only to be abandoned by him months later after the media circus, left with nothing but a damaged reputation and bastard child!"

By the way, you'd have a fun time asking my mom about a girl's "honor". After questioning, you'll soon realize "honor" probably means "virginity" and that they don't care about the boys' "honor". Good times.

There's also this new phenomenon of Arab boys who might share the same goals, values and general lifestyle of some Arab girls, but who are going for white girls instead. Yes, you've probably seen this episode on Tyra about the black girl who's mad that her college educated, decent black brother/friend is dating a white girl. This is a new thing for us. And it makes some of us angry. I get it now. The educated Arab girl has a hard enough time as it is, but her limited choices are limited even more because he decided he could date a white girl!? There aren't a lot of you out there! You're messing up our chances for happiness even further!

Ok, back to my learned behavior. I would scoff at Arab girls who flirted heavily with the boys. By the time I got to college, I had plenty of more guy friends, but I was especially careful to keep it at that. I didn't tattoo "Friends Only" on my forehead. But I might as well have. I have practiced the ways of a "Good Arab Girl" quite well. I feel embarassed for the girls who flirt. I see them flirting and know the guy knows they're flirting, and I feel embarassed by the whole situation. Good job, mom. Good job.

So here I am, a 25 year old unmarried Westernized, yet proud, Arab girl. In Arab years, I'm like a 39 year old unmarried woman. Some people are thinking, "Whoa, why didn't she get married? What's wrong with her?". Yes, they ask what's wrong with me. I'm either some hideous creature or too picky. As if Prince Charming walked into my door and I said, "You know what, Princey-boy? I'm not having your charming, attractive ass seizing my heart today! No! Not me!"

I'm not attracted to guys who think women are good for nothing but reproducing, cooking and serving kahwa (coffee), or guys who have trouble saying their "P's". That rules out 99.8 % of men born in Palestine. But I'm also wise enough to know that I must find a respectable Muslim man who shares the values that our parents instilled in us.

So here's the conundrum. I want to meet a guy, but I don't go around meeting guys because I am a good Arab girl. But I also don't want to meet a guy the old fashioned way.

In case you're wondering what the old fashioned way is, here are a few situations that evolve into the predictable Palestinian engagement. A.)the guy is interested in you because he saw you on a wedding tape. B.) the guy is interested in you because he saw you at a wedding C.) The guy is interested in you because he knows your family and someone suggested he come to the family and pick one of the girls.

Yes, all very romantic. I know. It's all very infuriating to me because in all of these situations, the girl is not picked based on her personality, morals, or because the guy likes HER. He likes how she looks, or he heard the family is cool so he wants this to be easy. "Shallow" and "lazy" are not qualities I look for in a man. I've always questioned this method. What if you get a Jeffrey Dahmer situation? By all accounts, the Dahmers are a normal family. Except for that one guy, Jeff. Some might consider him a (really, really) bad apple. I'm not saying guys are picking out serial-killing cannibalistic Arab girls. I'm just saying your methods for choosing a wife are questionable, at best. Now reverse this. I've known situations where the girl is wonderful and beautiful but the guy's parents didn't approve because they didn't like her parents. So they veto her. It's all very messed up.

Ok, so here's the predictable Palestinian ending to this old fashioned way. The man comes to your home with his parents, even though you have never spoken to one another and you may have never even seen him, and you serve them coffee. So he gets a better look at the cow on the farm at work, if you will. I don't like that! I can't do that!

Back to our conundrum: On the other hand, I don't go out and date guys. Shocking to my American friends, but normal in the Arab world...except for the Arab girls who've taken initiative and decided to test the market. I used to question these girls' character. "She's crazy!" I'd think. "What does she think she's doing, dabbling with the guys! Didn't her mama teach her better. She's making the rest of us look bad." And then something happened. Many of these girls started marrying these guys. I was torn between my bitterness at my mother for teaching me to follow an old path that I obviously was never going to skip down and my bitterness at these guys who talked smack about the girls who date and gave them demeaning nicknames and then MARRIED THEM!

Where the flippity flap does that leave me? I'll tell you where. My mom is NOW trying to teach me new tricks. "Get on the email," she says in her sweet, Arab accent. (This is her way of saying get on the internet). "Get on the email and find someone."

Huh? What? Pardonez moi, maman?! Since when has it been ok to go out there and snag a guy on your own? I didn't know the rules went out the window once we ordered the internet! I tried explaining to my mom that it's not easy, just getting on the internet and picking someone. "Would you like me to get on the internet and type in a guy's name?" I ask mom, sarcastically. "Yeah!" mom replies, as if it's that easy. Oh, mom.

And on top of that, there aren't a lot of good, Arab guys out there. Many have left their religion/morals and still expect things to work out because they have their culture and can speak Arabic. Is a good, Muslim guy who doesn't live with his mom too much to ask for? Or a guy who doesn't expect me to ask permission before I leave the house? Or a guy who doesn't work at a liquor store? Or isn't my relative!?!?

I have a theory. In fact, I think it's an excellent theory! I believe the ratio of good, Arab girls far exceeds the amount of good, Arab guys. I'm not saying there aren't any good, Arab guys out there. I said the RATIO is disproportionate. The amount of suitable men are outnumbered by the number of available men. So here we are. I will leave it at that today.

This conundrum is yet to be solved, but it felt good talking about it.

Sincerely,

single Arab female

Looking for work IS work.

It's the end of October. Halloween doesn't scare me. No, no....it's the jobless thing that scares me. Geez, not working sucks. I mean, it is no fun waking up early. Anybody who knows me knows I do not like waking up early. But I hate not having something to do. I'm trying to be positive. At least now I'm getting some responses. I had an interview for a job I'm dying to have. We'll see what happens.

You know how they say, "when it rains it pours"? That's what it feels like when you're not working. It feels like, "man, I'm single, I'm not working, the Rams suck AND the Cardinals got swept outta the playoffs? What the hell?!" As if the Cardinals would help me find a job. But at least it feels good when they win.

And the Rams? Don't get me started. I want to help you understand what it is like being a Rams fan and watching their games. I want you to visualize a person in a wheelchair. There's another guy wheeling this person around a swimming pool. You recognize the guy in the wheel chair. You're thinking, "hey, didn't that guy used to be an olympic gold medalist in the 100 yard dash? What happened?" The guy pushing wheel chair guy around seems pretty stupid, cause he's in panic mode and starts running around the pool like a maniac. You're thinking, "wow, this doesn't seem right." But you don't have control. This guy's obviously the one taking care of wheel chair guy. Suddenly, the idiot pushes wheel chair guy into the pool. Now watch wheel chair guy try to get out. It's probably not working. Plus, the idiot who pushed him is screaming, "Help! I will die if Chlorine touches my skin!" There you have it. You have just watched the Rams this season.

Finding work is like that too. I feel like I'm not in control and someone's about to push me in the water. Or maybe I'm the idiot in this metaphor and the wheel chair guy is my life. Who knows?

I mean, Mark McGwire has a job in baseball. Mark McGwire is going to be the St. Louis Cardinals hitting coach and I can not find a job.

Maybe I should become friends with Tony La Russa. He'll find me work no matter what.

Or maybe I should shoot up with some steroids.