Colorless Green Ideas Unintentionally Amusing In Person
Friday, October 17, 2003
People who are devoid of humor, easily offended, or so god-damned tense about maintaining a flawless appearance that they’re going to freak out about getting daubed with easily-removable makeup should stay home, and not come to a haunted attraction, pay money to come through, and then put a bunch of effort into being an asshole about a harmless joke and ruin everyone’s night. It’s absurd.
And further, anyone who finds me threatening in any way (me!, wearing a plastic chicken nose, even!), is so completely a pansy that they should not be allowed to leave their home without a heavy dose of Valium and professional supervision.
I know that this is the world we live in, that Americans especially have the sacred envelope of personal space which cannot be crossed, and Americans love to wantonly sue one another for real or imagined emotional anguish brought on by harmless jokes, but oh my god! Why, WHY would someone pay money to enter a haunted attraction that is specifically billed as being different, and having twisted and adult-oriented humor, if they cannot take a fuc#ing joke?!
And, again, I know that this is just part of reality, that there are millions and millions of stupid, humorless people who unthinkingly plunk down their money and then bitch about what they get, but I’m afraid that once again, though for the most part I find the haunt a ton of fun and amusing to do, the experience is making me much more cynical about the quality and usefulness of the majority of the population.
Please, if you’re a humorless @sshole, just stay home and ruin your own life. Don’t feel compelled to venture out and mess up a bunch of other ones too.
My hair is long enough that today I did two short, little-girl looking ponytails in order to avoid drying my hair, since I was running late. I’m a little surprised that I like it as much as I do, given than I am often not very nice about 30-50-year-old (women, mostly) trying to pretend they are 18. I guess that I mostly object to women wearing Forever 21-type clothes, which look to me to be aimed at very thin 13-16-year olds. (who’s a fuddy-duddy?! I am, I am!)
small hand’s friend at work is leaving. I know how badly she must feel… one of the “policy” decisions that was handed down recently is driving my friend C out. I feel horrible—she got me my job, and she doesn’t really want to leave, but the powers that be just can’t bring themselves to accommodate her perfectly reasonable request. It’s so frustrating. My employer is losing a great worker (better than me, to be honest) because they can’t be a little flexible. Augh. I keep repeating the graduate school mantra in my head…c’mon career change!
Once again, my lower back is knotted, making it painful to sit at my desk. However, because I have pretty well no sick time, I’m here anyway.
I have work that I ought to be doing, and I am putting it off, because how can I concentrate when I keep having to get up & stretch to avoid crippling stiffness?
There have been a rash of blog-abandonments lately. From what I’ve seen in the last year or so, it appears that there is a small flood of “I’m leaving” posts every few months. I doubt that I would bother with that, were I to stop posting. Of course, that may simply be because I am not fully committed to blogdom, and indicative of my shallowness or lack of attachment. It just seems that if I became too busy with real-life stuff, I’d just vanish and never post again. T.H. would be the only person who would notice, anyhow.
I’m thinking about grad school again, considering getting that GRE book. Work has recently made a number of “policy over people” decisions, which is fairly motivating. I don’t particularly want to continue to feel under-valued, under-challenged, and under-paid. If I can go to grad school and start working in professional theater, I may be under-valued and under-paid, but at least I’ll be challenged.
The haunt is going well—again, this is one of the things about Portland I hate to even consider leaving. But hey—maybe we’ll be able to come back after grad school.