Who else has seen a leprechaun, let me here you say yeah!

First it was the news captions showing white Katrina victims as “looking for food,” while black Katrina victims were “looting”; then it was Wolf Blitzer’s slip of the tongue, describing Katrina victims as “so poor, and so black.”

Now, here’s further proof of a media conspiracy against minorities by The Man.

C’mon now, at least some of the people looking for the leprechaun had to be poor white trash too, right? At any rate, I agree with the woman in the car: I think the leprechaun is just some crazy crack head.

And what about that artist’s rendering on the lined notebook paper? CLASSIC.

This is hard news people. Real hard.

Sweet dreams are made of tease

I have had several interesting dreams these past few days. One was particularly vivid that when I woke, I actually wondered whether I had to go to work. I’ll explain:

In my dream, I was sitting at my cube. I went over to my coworker’s cube, but she wasn’t there, so I start looking for something. Suddenly a freelancer in our office, A, comes over and tells me that my coworker, C, has told her that she is quitting her job in about a month. I am shocked, and A says, “Oh, I’m sure she was going to tell you.”

C comes over and is surprised that A said anything. But she says, yes, I was going to tell you. I’m planning to leave in a month, after I train a new hire on my job. But then suddenly, I don’t remember how we get the news, we find out that we are getting laid off, that our division is being let go. C and I look at each other and are just kind of ambivalent. We start packing our stuff into boxes.

My boss comes out of his office, and he has angry tears in his eyes. He says, “How can she do this to us?” Apparently, the “she” he is referring to is his boss (who is really all of our bosses); he seems to think she had something to do with this. He goes tromping off. C and I simply shrug it off, and continue packing our boxes. A skinny Chinese security guard (I have no clue why he is Chinese) comes over because he is supposed to escort us out. He even helps me start packing my boxes. As I pack, we see two security guys escorting out someone who is ranting and raving. It’s my boss! His hair is all of a sudden Albert Einstein-like crazy, his eyes are wild, and he’s saying how they can’t do this to him. I remember feeling shocked because I had actually thought he’d been secretly looking for another job. (At work, he’ll disappear for hours or shut his door for a time. Very curious…) I just simply shrug and keep packing. Then…beep! beep! beep!

I can’t believe that I dreamed about this, because it basically combined all the stress/annoyance/current events at work that I’ve experienced lately—especially this past hell week. I guess it was my mind’s way of letting me make my dreams come true, so to speak, in my head. But damn. What a tease! It was still all just a dream.

Rolling a fatty (not that kind of fatty, you bad person)

Instead of doing work, and finishing a story that I’m supposed to turn in on Monday, I’m watching the highly underrated “What Lies Beneath” on ABC. It’s actually quite suspenseful. I am in transcribing hell right now. Sigh. I hate this story.

Anyway, other than stressing about my story, I did get to do one fun thing last night. That’s go to the Fatty Crab and pig out. It’s a great restaurant, but there is a bit of meatpacking attitude when it comes to getting seated. They won’t seat more than four people, because large groups stay for a long time and thus reduce the customer churn. So our group had to be split up into different tables—they wouldn’t even let us sit in empty tables next to each other. Our waiter was nice, but the host with the evil handlebar mustache argued with one of our friends when she tried to ask if she could get seated next to us (they had seated several other people who came later than both sets of our friends, who were waiting for tables). I think every time he thwarts a large group of friends he twists the ends of his mustache sinisterly and snorts, “The crabbiest of all wins again. No parties of more than four shall ever patronize the Fatty Crab. Ahhahahahahhaha!!!!!”

I could have done without the Meatpacking Attitude, but the food was really sumptuous. I hate when people lick their fingers and moan while eating, but I may have been guilty of committing my own pet peeve. If you go there prepare to get down and dirty with the grub. And make sure the waiter consistently fills your water glass because it is pretty spicy. And fatty. Fat is so good. It melts in your mouth and in your hand. Then you lick your hand to get the fat plus the excess sauce that is drying on your fingers. Mmmmrrphhhh. Yum. Oh and did I mention it’s not too bad cost-wise? Too bad I forgoed (forewent?) any savings by drinking $11-$12 mojitos and mai tais at Spice Market.

This is totally random but I’m also craving right now Shanghai Café on Mott or Fried Dumpling on Allen. (You literally just go there and get like 30 fried dumplings for 5 bucks.) The best Chinese restaurants are like the best hookers. Dirty and cheap. Okay, that was gross. I don’t frequent hookers but I’ve always wanted to make a trucker-type analogy like that. But seriously, the best places to get food in Chinatown are those holes in the wall where you can seriously fill up on the most un-nutritious but oh-so-greasy-and-good noodles, dumplings, and roasted meats. I also love the Hentai restaurant on St. Mark’s. I don’t actually know what it’s called, but they have a good fatty pork Japanese tapas thing and cheap Kirin. I call it the Hentai place cause the menu and signage used to showcase those old Japanese sex paintings. Kinda gross when you’re eating but the food and prices are worth it. My penchant for cheap food in large volumes is not doing much for the expanding waistline. Sigh.

Gettin' to the church on time

Actually I didn’t. I was 15 minutes late, but I still was able to hear John Stott speak at a special service held by my church, Redeemer. (Most of my posts are frivolous and just me venting, but I’ll write a nice post today.) For those who don’t know who he is, Stott is a premier Christian author (I’ve never directly read his stuff that I remember, but I know he’s well-regarded, and is referred to in many other things I’ve read about faith). He’s still going strong (if not slow, shuffling toward the podium) at 85, and still has all his faculties. When he lost his place during the sermon momentarily, he pointed out that he’s 85, and will continue to talk aimlessly until he finds his place again. That made me crack up. Not just because it was charming, but because everything sounds funnier when it’s said in a British accent and coming from an little, old, white-haired man.

While basic, Stott’s sermon was inspiring, at the very least, because it served as a reminder that one can always talk to God if one wants to. He’s not some ethereal old man hovering on clouds that you can only reach through ceremonial rituals. Plus, it was inspiring to see people like Stott, who devote their lives to ministry, still going strong until the day they are called home (like Billy Graham). I just hope I can shuffle around like that when I’m 85.

Here’s more on John Stott.

Here’s a story about Redeemer Presbyterian Church from 2 weeks ago in the NYT.

Tryin' to make a dollar out of 15 cents

After a blissful weekend at Hunter Mountain living commune style with some friends and worrying about nothing but cracking my head open on the ice while snowboarding, it’s back to reality. It’s always hard to come back to work after you’ve gone away, even if it’s just for a weekend.

This is especially true if you are secretly wishing your company would go under. But instead of harping on that I’ll just list a few job alternatives I’ve been thinking about lately:

--Professional Evite Writer. I’ve been contemplating writing a business proposal for the Evite folks in which I offer to write people’s Evites for a fee to make their events sound more snazzy and interesting. Amongst my friends I’ve always been the designated Evite writer, so I already have quite a few samples in my portfolio.
--Vitamin Water Label Writer: Actually my roommate’s suggestion. She said I could probably have written the copy for the “Formula 50” drink. I agree with her. I would have made it even better, adding the words “bitches” and “ho’s” to the description. Though “hydrate or die tryin’” is pure genius, I have to say.
--American Idol Judge: I already do it for fun, but could I get paid?
--TV Guide Blurb Writer: Seriously, who writes these things? If all you have to do is watch and write about the show in 50 words or less, I could totally do that. I could think of a better catch phrase than “hyjinx ensue.”

Any other suggestions?