Third Quarter Report b

Did you see Scott Pilgrim vs. The World?




Fucking amazing movie. Oh, oh God, it was amazing!
Blew my mind and a half, made my top 10, effortlessly.
I got a blueberry muffin immediately afterward to celebrate this piece of absolute epic awesomeness. Dunkin donuts, blueberry muffins are PERFECT for this kind of thing, trust me and try it.

Michael Cera+ music + video games= this movie was tailored for me specifically.
And I mean, Jason Schwartzman...dare you jest with me? Geniusss~

Rotten tomatoes gives it a 80% = 126 yay to 31 nay, which considering the caustic critiquing of the most acidic peanut gallery there ever was, I'd say that's high praise.
This movie will change your view of cinematography.
It just will.


And with that, came the hugest sign random occurrences can give: I'm going to move.

Far away from here, to a bigger city.
I'm going to marry the man that I've fallen in love with.
It's not Michael Cera, but he is Canadian. O jeez.

Third Quarter Report

Well, it's not an analysis of the NYSE movements, that's for sure. In fact my knowledge of financial affairs in global trading extends to:

S&P 500= Standard and Poor's 500= a particular "group" of stocks, or a market

AAPL= Apple Stock (buy some?)

DOW = a market

Aaand, that's it. Really. My mother works with brokers who carefully place monies for some of my state's more elite clientele, but for all the years that I've been in or out of that office, I still don't understand the notion of equity, or Roth IRA Withdrawls.

I mean, what?



So, if nothing else, I could devote portions of this blog to my research in the world of finances, because ultimately, I'm going to own some stock. Apple's got $23 billion monies, and I want a piece o'dat apple.

This third quarter repor(t) is instead an update. That horrid job that I mentioned briefly in my last blog... I quit it.
No two weeks notice, just a double fingered salute on the way out, muthafuckahs!

Ha. Nah, but really. I was absolutely cordial when I left, though I'm certain I felt my "boss" mouth a "fuck you" behind me. I don't feel bad about not giving notice; I was there for only two weeks and my boss, who is this little, old, attention seeking, black-sheep-of-her-family southern woman with most likely loose morals, was incredibly rude from day one after she found out that the owners of this business had taking a liking to me. And she was the one who had hired me!

Two alpha females in the place just rankled her, but she the only one willing to lay on her back like an obedient puppy. So, she can have her place back.

The owners themselves were pretty awful in their own right. Southern, old, traditional, jump-when-I-say-jump-girl, it drove me up a wall and a half to say "yes ma'am" CONSTANTLY, instead of yes, or right away! or I can do that. Especially to these people. It was so hard to respect them.
I understand southern tradition and all that, I know its a cultural expectation to give that slave girl twang to your "yessuh" but 1) I'm a northerner, and I may live here (unwillingly cos I'm a poor college kid) but ma'am is reserved for the sweetest and eldest of little old ladies and 2) in this case, it is not used to denote respect, but instead a acknowledgment of power in the worst sense.

Don't get me wrong, I know to show respect for my bosses and to people higher up despite having a fair amount of pride, but this was a straight up 1886-esque situation.

While receiving orders (orders!) for the front desk via phone which, the owner's wife would call every 5 minutes or so because she's a neurotic mess, I would be berated for not answering every inquiry with 'yes ma'am' after my initial, standardized greeting. If I failed to respond favorably within a 2 second pause, she would proceed to lecture me about how the hotel needs to protect and uphold a certain tradition of "southern hospitality", when she really means indulge me a power trip.

Gimme a fucking break.

The only thing I was upholding for her was a sense of power that she could not achieve in her marriage, "southern tradition" and all that ensuring that her place is beneath her husband, while he makes all of the important decisions. She merely takes care of the nitty gritty details. I almost felt bad for her, when I heard him verbally lashing her in front of a guest they were evicting ("Is it possible for you to exist without talking?!") but she turned it right back around onto the employees of this place and reduced us to "the help".

Needless to say, my pity gland dried right up and I don't think I'll be putting this experience on my resume.

I've started a job painting houses for my friend which is considerably harder work, but much more pleasant, since. If anything, my time at The Bates Motel, as my mom calls it taught me how to smile when saying fuck you. I know that I can play that game very well.

Small Movements

I'm not a morning person by any stretch of imagination.
I do not think that I have the ability to become one no matter how much corporate training or eventual young baby screeching for sustenance I receive.

As a result, I find that I cannot properly appreciate the quiet morning, its low light and hushed city noises. I am too busy trying to catch five more minutes of sleep as I lay back in bed with my work clothes on and my alarm set to just 15 before I need to be at work.
That peace is lost on me, because at that point, I'm desperately trying not to remember why I hate my bosses.

(9-5 jobs are frightening prospects, but really, I don't think I could have a worse job than my current one if I tried. 9-5 with the most neurotic and self-serving business owners ever there were; Southern hospitality, my ass.)

Like most individuals in my age bracket, sleeping later and later in the day is my default tendency, as it both passes time to get to the more exciting hours of the day, and replenishes my energy levels which never really peak, but instead bring me to an awakeness that provides a startling awareness.

Ironically, I'm typing this blog at mid afternoon to relieve the stress of my place of work. It also makes me appear quite busy.




This is the awareness of small movements.

When your mind is quiet, holding its breath, concentrated to a single point of focus, you might notice things you'd not ordinarily focus on.
Here is an example.

Small, subtle movements,
tiny details on a surface, like the shape refracted light makes on glass,
sounds on higher frequencies,
fading scents that strike familarity that you cannot place.

Your skin puckers with a tightness as you suddenly become aware of it.

Quantum events that occur daily and hourly, by second and millisecond, things that tell you the world is constantly moving, are suddenly comprehendible. Your heartbeat, your breath, the background noise of your office.
There is movement, and it occurs regardless of what you may be doing, wishing, or dreaming.

You are as a pebble being carried out to sea; things have come before you and things will come after you.
There is no earth shattering philosophy as to your place in this world. The who's, the how's, the why's at present don't matter.
You are, because you are existing right now.
You are alive, because you are breathing, thinking, and feeling.

A stillness settles over you like a blanket, and you become calm. A conductor by which sensation and energy passes into you, and through you. You are affected by it and yet you are not.


This focus is similar to the meditations employed by monks in the Mahayana tradition of Buddhism.
Perception and nonperception, something fundamentally contradictory, yet utterly necessary to attain Nirvana.

in this case, we're not trying to attain it, as nirvana is more than merely a state of mind.
I manage this state best in the late hours of evening, courtesy of being a nortorious insomniac. Thoughts from the day need to be tallied and filed, and often I am thinking ferociously for a good two hours before sleep comes to me.

I know that I need to settle these accounts within my mind, but the looming threat of the next work day halts all productive thought processes and often I am left with a wild menagerie that merely needs to bounce around until it becomes exhausted.

I become exhausted. And then I focus on my breath, I concentrate on the cool inhale, and then the warm exhale. Eventually my

Awareness of your surroundings, of you thoughts, of others and acknowledging all of this world around you in complete serenity...tell me if you've noticed a difference.