October 22nd, 2001


(no subject)

It's gonna be one of those days, I can already tell. Usually, when I temp at this law firm, I handle 2-4 partners who generally don't give me that much to do; some photocopying, some document editing, steady phone work. But today, I'm back helping out another assistant, who has WAAAYYYYY too much work, and she gives me the most annoying shit to do, and is unbelieveably condescending and kind of a bitch. I don't necessarily blame her, though - the partner that she works for is one of the top 3 most maniacally busy women I've ever seen in my life. (jongre can probably guess who the other 2 are.)

I have a lot I want to talk about, actually, but it's gonna have to wait; I have some business cards to file.
  • Current Mood
    bitchy bitchy
full life

(no subject)

In an even fouler mood than I was this morning. I was given this totally bullshit filing assignment, and this piece of shit computer that I'm using won't let me create any labels.

I want my computer, and I want it right now. I'm so excited about it, I can hardly stand it. Again, I don't know where the hell I'm going to put it, or how I'm going to be able to hook it up to anything (phone/cable/4-track), but I don't care.

I had asked my other roommate to consider changing rooms with me; he has twice as much space as I do, and he spends maybe one night every two weeks at the apartment, PLUS he has phone and cable access in his room, which is exactly what I need. When I asked him about it last weekend, he said that he was actually probably going to be spending more time in the apartment. That was the last time I saw him in person.

I want the Yankees to win tonight.

I want this filing to go away.
  • Current Mood
    annoyed annoyed
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Strong words from Buckley

Q: And that's when you started playing at Sin-E'?

Jeff: (corrects my pronunciation) Shin-ay. Right. And other places too. First Street Cafe, Cornelia Street Cafe, Bang On, Tramps, the Knitting Factory. Anything I could find, asically. Over and over and over and over again. So I don't know what I can tell you. The only way to really make it - anywhere - is to put every bit of your being into the thing that only *you* can provide. The only angle is the art that you choose, that only *you* can provide. And to do that, you have to be quiet for a long time and find out what you bring forth. You have to know what's in yourself - all your eccentricities, all your banalities, the full flavor of your woe and your joy. What does it look like? What does it feel like? What makes it different from everybody else's. It's totally subjective. You're just given the task of bringing it up. It's like going up to some girl with a guitar and saying, "you are the only one, right now, who can make your music. Right now. You don't even know how to play the guitar. You'll find it, you'll find that chord, if you express your hear, *now*. You'll find that small inner platinum mine, that reservoir. It's something that's there, you just have to dig deep and find it. But it's something you have to do yourself. It's not something that can be pulled out of you by any teacher, not any that I've ever met. None. Close friends can tell you when you're finding. Other people who are out there doing it, they're good to talk to. But you have to find it yourself.


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