So Brian Said

This is twoyears in a rowthat I havenot gone trick-or-treating. Whyisthe space bar not working? Idon't know.

Also: Has anyone else noticedmy tendency to write run-on sentences? Not like "I needed gas I went tothe gasstation andthe pump was broken so I went to another one,"but sentenceswhere Isay "and"andthen I use"but"andthen I use "so." I needto stop that.

This space bar really sucks.
--McJangles 11:08 PM
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It's before 10, I've been awake for three hours, which is exactly how many I slept for. Today is not going to be pretty.

Also, e-mail me. I've developed a little bit of OCD about checking my e-mail, but no one sends me anything, so that's pretty depressing.
--McJangles 9:29 AM
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Tabula rasa.
--McJangles 3:14 AM
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After five months at the Morning Journal, my editor has complimented me on a story. I had hoped to go qualify for vacation time before that happened, but he's been on a bit of a nice streak lately, so it was only natural that I would eventually fall victim.

I wonder, though, if he just has bad judgment for quality stories, if I have that bad judgment, or if his just wavers. He complimented the dry Playboy story—I didn't write that by the way; I just picked up the copy—and he complimented my story: 14 inches written on deadline in less than 20 minutes.

The only thought I put into it in advance was the lead, which I came up with while I was driving. And even that was a hard lead. After that, I just hammered away on the keyboard. As I'm making cop calls, he's editing.

"Hey, Amy, this fire story's pretty dramatic...." This means, "You may want to consider where you'll be placing it."

Then, because I took forever to get out there and get the story and get back (take that, Wilks!), he says, "Well, we were either gonna fire you or promote you. Good job." I'm not sure what exactly the great part was, but I guess I'll have to settle for it.

Perhaps I'm too hard on myself, or perhaps I just need to think less about my work. That means that I'm a natural, you see. It is beginning to seem that the stories I try the least on get the best reviews. I'm going to become one of those guys. Too bad.
--McJangles 12:26 AM
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I thought it was very strange that Michael's girlfriend wanted me to link to her blog, given its content. I was even more confused about the river comment. And just as I was about to tell Martin that he had his Lindsays crossed, it made a little bit more sense.

So I'll have to find the link to Lindsay's blog, and we'll see if she updates frequently enough. It's almost time to take Lott of the list anyway, so perhaps she can fill her slot. hurr hurr
--McJangles 5:17 PM
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I've never been considered especially sensitive on issues of race relations, so maybe I'm just ignorant on this, but:

It seems to me that every time I hear a discussion about some racial disparity—and I drive to work during the Tavis Smiley Show, so that's often—the conversation always ends with "So how do we solve this problem?" and the answer is almost always, "Well, we need to keep talking about this," or "We need to get everyone to sit down and discuss what the problems are," or something just like that.

Could it be that this is the problem? That actually solving the problem isn't very high on anyone's agenda, compared to talking about the problem? Sure, talking is good, but it's never going to get anyone out of jail and into school, from welfare to work, or even from drugs to hugs. I'll admit that I don't actually know what will get those transitions made, but it's growing clearer that the answer is in fact not roundtable discussions.

I know I'm starting to sound like Kadar here, but also about NPR: The Talk of the Nation segment on the Patriot Act was a huge disappointment, but it was high-larious. When you actually hear the host let out a huge exasperated sigh because of his caller, you know everything's going down the can.
--McJangles 2:35 AM
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Today was busy, but not necessarily productive.

I had several decent stories thrown my way today, but most of them went nowhere, either because they turned up little of import, because I got the story too late, because I simply failed at finding information, whatever.

I also had three flat tires today. All on the same tire, but after filling it twice and then hearing the tire's hiss—over the sound of the outside wind and my radio—as I drove to work, I decided to just change it. That turned out to be much more effective.

I bought pornography for the first time ever today.

Looking back, the transaction reminds me of True Porn Clerk Stories. I'm sure the guy at Dairy Mart has probably heard all the excuses before, including "I have to buy it for work."

When he sees those naked triplets in the Morning Journal this week, I'll feel vindicated. No, really.
--McJangles 1:00 AM
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Now I remember. I wasn't going to post about the copy desk, I was going to post about Hamburger Station.

Although I didn't know the Hamburger Station very well—I don't think I've been there more than four times—it was as easy for as it was for anyone else to see that it was a special place.

I'm sure a lot of other people are waiting for their turn to share what the Hamburger Station meant to them, so I'll be quick:

Remember that one time when Marty and I got a huge bucket of wings and there was an inch of nasty wing grease at the bottom of the bucket? He dared me to eat one of the wings that had been marinating and stewing in that vat of buffalo goodness. I was up to the dare, and the wing-to-sauce ratio had that all-syrup-Super-Squishee effect.

Soon, I was ranting something about how these were real wings. The next thing you know, I was convinced that because they were real wings, they should be able to fly—nevermind the fact that they were chicken wings. Marty didn't believe me, though, so I had to show him.

I plucked a wing from the depths of the cardboard volcano and let it soar. I swear the wing flapped as it made its way toward the corner, striking first the wall, bouncing up into the ceiling, striking the other wall, and then gracefully landing on the Tel-Buch desk, a shower of buffalo sauce raining from above, globs of chicken fat trickling down the walls.

Marty then understood that the wings could fly. Soon, though, Ben came. He didn't even notice that the walls were dripping until it was pointed out. I cleaned the wall, but he told on me anyway. Oh, Ben.

That wasn't as quick as I planned, but I thought it was pretty good anyway. The fried mushrooms were good, too. Marty probably forgot we had those.

Also: Does anybody else wait anxiously after entering something in a ShoutBox, praying that the gods won't insert one of those crazy spaces in a particularly bad location?
--McJangles 2:56 AM
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I was going to post about the copy desk, but I don't remember what I had to say. All I can remember is that I was disappointed that no one appreciated my "Halloween haute couture" as a headline for my story about the hot and not-hot costumes this October. For now at least, we're using "Frightful fashions." I also came up with that one.

I'm not sure, but I think I may have ostracized the copy desk by referring to them as "Copy Desk." For instance, "Hey, Copy Desk, what's the right style for blablabla." I think I did the same thing at the Buchtelite to people. "NEWS EDITOR! Where's my goddamned budget?" It's too bad that some people are unaware how charming I am.

Of all the feature stories I've written, this was the one I hated writing the least.

EDIT: Now that I think of it, one person did seem to appreciate my brilliant idea. Thanks, Copy Desk. No, not you, Copy Desk. The other Copy Desk. Yes, you.
--McJangles 8:54 PM
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According to the Freedom Forum, I am one in 500. Or 250.

They ask people to name all the freedoms specifically afforded to us by the First Amendment, and only one or two in 500 can nail the question.

Can you?
--McJangles 2:26 AM
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I think I'll be in a bad mood today.
--McJangles 12:04 PM
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How unattractive.

EDIT: I really feel like I should say something positive here, like "You can do better than that," but come on. That is really lame. You can do better than that.
--McJangles 12:57 AM
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▐9▀α7▌▄█┌ «╧äëë ▀ ë ╝c.{┘║:▌ÄAbW-♀-╚./,-♀↨$6§-Nb5♠ 1☻-N8♣4↓:╚Ä█§{A←9╕m
That is the product of trying to find the em-dash shortcut. I managed to find two more shortcuts for ë, both of which are easier for the hand to manuever, but neither of which I remember anymore.
--McJangles 2:35 AM
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Did I ever metion how weird it is to find out that people have been reading your blog without you knowing? It can be downright creepy sometimes.

Weird: Finding out that a couple of editors from the Beacon had been reading my blog.
Very weird: Finding out that my friend's former roommate, whom I don't think I've talked to or even made eye contact with since 1999—three years before I even started this page—had quoted my blog in her instant-messenger profile.
Creepy: Well, I don't want to tell that story, but it involves balls in a refrigerator.

So a bit of online etiquette (netiquette is stupid): When you're new to my site, you sign the guestbook down at the bottom. If you're too lazy for that, you may say hello in the ShoutBox. If you're not new, but I don't know that you're aware of my page, you should do the same as well.

Not that this is so personal or anything, but otherwise it's like finding someone snooping around in your room or watching you with binoculars. Creepy.

Also, why won't my keyboard shortcut for the em-dash work? The computer says it's supposed to be Alt-2014, but that produces ▐. In a few short weeks, I've managed to quickly learn the E with a diaeresis, but it hadn't occured to me in the two years that I've been using em-dashes to learn the shortcut. Now it has, and the cursed machine refuses to work.
--McJangles 2:29 AM
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I just spent 25 minutes talking about eggs Benedict. I kill me.
--McJangles 4:23 AM
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I hate when I come home and try to use Macintosh keyboard shortcuts on the PC.
(1) It's futile.
(2) It shows a subconscious acceptance of an inferior life form.

Can we stop calling him the "Seventh-Inning Fan" "The Cubs Foul Fan" and everything else? The best thing to call him is just "The Fan." Everybody knows who you're talking about.

Chan's secret admirer has decided to comment on most of the linked blogs.

Here's what Secret Admirer thinks.
had no depth
liked
very profane
I worship her writing style
she needs to blog more. I think she would have interesting stories... if she would just post
OMG! as her opening statement made me not want to read any further.
okay... but it didn't have the kick
skipped
Michael's is boring
Stopped reading when she talked about A Wedding Story.
What's up with him? I'm not sure what I think of his blog. Or him.
we shall skip
I suppose it would be better if I knew him.
too intelligent and NPRish

--McJangles 12:25 AM
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I think today was the first time when I felt like I actually uncovered something of consequence at work. It appears a couple of prominent cases are somehow connected, though I'm not sure how just yet.

Actually running a story about it sure would have been icing on the cake. We'll try again tomorrow.

Also, one of my editors yelled at me. I did a very good job not telling her a few things. I hate doing a good job at that.

In other news: After adding Chan to the links, I was notified that she has a secret admirer. How cute.

In other news: I always think I've gotten over the gay-folk thing, but then something like the commercial for "Interactive Male" comes on, and there's a scantily clad cowboy petting his horse and trying to get me to visit "the ranch." All I can do is be appalled. Maybe I'll accept it better a different day.
--McJangles 11:21 PM
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If you're one of Kathleen's sisters, you probably shouldn't read this, because I'm about to say "Holy shit."

Hooooly shit.

Although I just spent about 15 minutes ranting about this with a Buchtelite copy editor, I'm presently feeling speechless. Just read it.
--McJangles 12:26 AM
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We've added Chan and Monacle Ott to the blog links. Go say hello.
--McJangles 12:16 AM
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Is time up yet? I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter.

I didn't win the lottery, but I am going to be filthy stinkin' rich just the same. By getting into the family business, no less.

Oh man. I'm sorry that your life isn't as exciting as mine is right now. Maybe I'll give you 50 bucks some day, that'll make you happy.

Anyway...

Work last week straight-up sucked. I just wasn't happy with anything that I did. I need to be taken off this crappy beat. Paying your dues sucks.

Remember how it's funny that I like sports? That's funny and unheardhyphenof. Also, I'm going to be an imaginary surrogate father. This is quite exciting. Quinn and I went to Target and set up a gift registry for the imaginary twins.

That's all.
--McJangles 3:09 AM
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I'm actually thinking about just taking a week off blogging. I think it's a good idea. I'll say that I started with the last post, though, so this is just a memo, not a post. Unless I win the lottery or do something equally noteworthy, don't bother reading for a week.

In the meantime, you may read this.
--McJangles 12:07 AM
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Remember how I said I had a good day at work yesterday? It turned out not to be true. I actually had a bad day at work yesterday. And I didn't know it until about 10PM, but I had a bad day at work today, as well. I wish I would notice these things earlier, so that I can put forth less effort. Nothing sucks worse than trying really hard and still sucking. Damn.

Anyway. No one has slapped me in the face yet. I was only half-joking when I made that request.
--McJangles 12:39 AM
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I need to sleep.

From 9 a.m. to 12:30, today was kind of terrible. From 12:30 to 10:56, the day was great. At 10:56, Jackass McAsshead decided to broadside me as I was driving home. I decided to make an evasive manuever, so it's all good.

I got to work on the steel mill again today. I freaking love working on the steel mill. It's almost as good as working on the coal mine, going down down down, working on the coal mine, whoops about to get down.

But that's that. The moral of the story is be prepared, i.e. bring bread.
--McJangles 11:34 PM
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In other news: Someone needs to slap me in the face and tell me to settle down. I'm being very ridiculous.

I just realized that one of my editors from doing blotters is covering the Republic story, as am I. I think that's cool. I feel like calling her for help, but I'm not really having any problems, except that the guy from Republic is an ass and never returns my calls. Side note: I wouldn't mind that so much, but his secretary aggravates the situation by always saying that "he's really good about returning calls." No, he's not. He hasn't called me back, a week after the third consecutive message.

Back to the point. So I have nothing to call her about, so I would actually just say, "Yeah, I just wanted to call and let you know that it's Local 1104, not 1124, like you put in your story. Remember when you were my editor?" And of course, I wouldn't be able to make it come across as me being jovial, so I can't do that.

So that leaves me just reading her work, and I suppose that's a good thing to do anyway.

Again, settle down.
--McJangles 2:48 AM
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