So Brian Said

Sweet god!

It's done. My 80-inch story, my 20-inch sidebar, the calls, the interviews, the pressure, the procrastination. All done.

As I said, I've been working ridiculous hours. Running on three hours of sleep, I started the week with a 15-hour day. I made a little bit of a recovery and worked my regular shift on Tuesday, but I went in at 10 and left at midnight Wednesday and Thursday, and worked another 12 hours today.

I've fallen asleep at my desk a few times throughout the week, but I don't think anyone noticed.

Anyway, I should be able to leave work on time from now on and return to blogging. Maybe I'll even have something interesting to talk about, aside from all the exciting new facts I have crammed into my head about sex abuse.

The most fascinating thing I've learned is that most children who sexually abuse children are just going through a phase and will simply grow out of it. Is that insane or what? Kids these days.
--McJangles 11:25 PM
|

I'm becoming one of the bloggers I hate.

My absenteeism is due to my ridiculous work schedule. We're working on a project about sex abuse in schools, and I'm now on my fourth double-shift this week. I keep coming in early to work, but people keep dying out on the streets, taking me away from my work. I think I'm actually going to have things done this week, and then I should have a lot of comp days.

I feel like dying.
--McJangles 10:39 AM
|

It's certainly been a while, hasn't it? This post is really pro forma; I'm hoping it'll get me back in the habit, but I don't really have much to say. Maybe a couple of things that I considered posting in the last 10 days or so:

"I'm in a bridge-burning mood."

"I give up.

EDIT: That didn't work."

"Blablabla, people should learn how to drive in the snow. It's just as common as driving in the sunshine, so we should probably be able to figure it out."

"I'm glad to be working on a longer-term project at work. It gives me something to actually do when no one's getting killed at the library or in fires."

There you have it. You really haven't missed much, as you can see.

Oh, except for my most recent escapades at the University of Akron. I guess that actually is a good story. Too late.
--McJangles 2:38 AM
|

Today is simply not ending. Being up for 12 hours is really nothing new, but when I have another hour and a half of work left, it really makes it less appealing. I almost killed myself driving to work. I’m too tired to write a linear story. Do I have plans with someone tomorrow? My mind is telling me that I have something planned, but I can’t think of what I would be doing or with whom. You should tell me. I fell asleep in the bathroom for about 20 minutes earlier tonight. That was funny when I woke up. I’m going back to work.
--McJangles 8:54 PM
|

Michael is telling me about something, but I'm not listening. You should not be listening to me, because I'm no longer talking about Michael; I'm telling you how horrid my ingrown toenail is. It's really bad. There are exposed nerve endings and little pockets of pressurized blood. Are you still listening?

The Morning Journal nominated me for an Associated Press Society of Ohio award: Best Feature Writing. We call that a back-handed compliment. They didn't even pick the good feature stories that I wrote. Except one. Maybe two. I kind of don't like most of them anyway, but in retrospect I found three total that would have given me better chances.
--McJangles 2:22 AM
|

This is endlessly entertaining. Actually, it does get boring after a while. But until then, look out!

I don't know if I've ever put an exclamation mark in my blog before.

EDIT: Turns out I have. It tends to be right after I call someone an idiot.
--McJangles 1:41 AM
|

I wrote several stories about a pair of teachers who were suspended from Lorain Admiral King High School after claims of sexual harassment and sexual touching. The one sounded like he was a sleazeball and had definitely done it, but the other was an ROTC instructor who was willing to talk to me and swore on his honor, etc. that he hadn't done anything. Story 1, Story 2.

I wanted to believe him, and I'm pretty sure I did. More recently, I wrote a story about the school continuing to investigate him months after the police had already said the allegations were made up. Because the teacher would talk and the school wouldn't, it couldn't help but slant in favor of the teacher. That was in late December.

Today, the weekend reporter called to tell me police had caught him in a hotel room with a student last night, and that he killed himself today.

You get to do a bit of talking to dead people's families when you police report, but this was the first time it was someone I'd actually already talked to and gotten to know somewhat.

After the last story had been written, the guy's wife thought I was the best, so when I showed up to talk to her, she hugged me and told me she'd been meaning to send me some cookies. As nice as that was, she still cried a lot, and the entire thing was very uncomfortable.

The most uncomfortable part was sitting in my car before I went to talk to her, realizing that this guy who was so full of indignation--aren't all liars?--that I had believed him, that he had fooled me, and that I essentially fought for him with one of my stories. It was the first time I felt like that after a story.

As I was getting up to leave when I finished talking to the wife, she said, "If he was lying to you, he was lying to me, too." I didn't know quite what to make of it when she said it, but the more I think on it, the more things there are to take from that. But of all of them, the strangest to me is that five hours after she found her husband dead, she had thought about how I felt. I don't think I'd have done the same.

Anyway, there were three reporters--either one or two too many--on the story, and I wove all our accounts together beautifully. After that, two editors got a hold of it, and that's all I have to say about that.

Here it is.
--McJangles 6:38 PM
|

When the Shout Boxes go down and blogs take forever to load, that's when I really start to resent people who don't update regularly. I have to sit and wait for your page to load, knowing full well that I'll be disappointed. You're a bad person.

Also, it's really painful to be detached from the wire services when I get home. I thought Google News was really great, but actually being able to go and get the wire stories the second they move is so much better. It's a lot like going from broadband to dial-up. Terrible.
--McJangles 12:01 AM
|

I'm beginning to at least understand how so many people can be backing Bush out of that ironic false patriotism.

When they aired that "Misleader" ad about Bush funding the Iraq war instead of No Child Left Behind, they were doing one of those shots where they zoom out or pan across a picture of him, and for a moment, I thought, "Geez, this guy is our president and they're harpooning him on national television. Something is wrong."

I quickly snapped out of it, but I can still see how some people don't. It's more important to act like America is perfect than it is to try to improve America. I imagine it's pretty similar to the way people are more concerned with feeling secure than with actually being secure.

America is so stupid in that Buchtelite way. I love you, America. I love you, Buchtelite.

In other anti-Bush news, we have 15 finalists in the Bush in 30 Seconds contest. My favorites were "Desktop," "Child's Pay," and "Polygraph." Moveon.org is usually a little too much for even my vehemently anti-Bush tastes, but I think this contest was a great idea.
--McJangles 2:00 AM
|

Weblog wasteland

Here are some blogs that have been abandoned:

Monica
D'Lareg
Jono
Elizabeth
Beth
Czirok
Rachel
Dan
Dan (again)
Martin X (sort of)
Jay
Quinn
Quinn (again)
Andrew
Hamlin (sort of)
Hamlin
Hamlin
--McJangles 4:12 AM
|

With the gratuitous use of Google and a brief brainstorming session with Dad, I have determined that I am in possession of a custom-made crack pipe. I believe I also know how to operate it now.
--McJangles 7:43 AM
|

That was a pretty good New Year's Eve.

I had the good fortune of having the entire night off on account of my working the upcoming weekend, so I got to the Beachland Ballroom around 8-8:30. Martin and Katie were due to arrive, and Jay and Pete were allegedly coming also. I took a seat in the tavern and ordered a burger and a beer, and waited. And waited. And waited.

Two bands, two drinks and two entrees later, Martin and Katie finally showed up. Turns out they decided to check in to the hotel before the show. I didn't think checking into a hotel would take two hours, but it must have been a fancy hotel or something.

The first band was decent, the second band, the Kent Soccer Team, was not so good. The Black Keys, of course, only get better. With a bottle of terrible champagne, I managed to get Marty to drink alcohol for the first time ever, and I inadvertently got his under-age girlfriend drunk. Who knew she was younger than Chan? Not me.

In my slightly inebriated state, I managed to make two new friends, who were both unfortunately of the male persuasion. One of them gave me what Martin told me was drug paraphernalia. I'm not sure, but I'll certainly check it out.

In my still slightly inebriated state, I talked to the guitarist from the Black Keys, and asked what the Buchtelite had to do to get an interview. He said it was "really weird" that after so many attempts, we still hadn't gotten a hold of them and said that we should send an e-mail to theband@theblackkeys.com. Something tells me it won't work, but Marty or Dan should give it a try.

While I was leaning against the stage waiting to sober up, I saw the reporter from our Sandusky bureau waiting with a friend to get his poster autographed. I thought, "That looks like the guy from the Sandusky bureau." When the name on the autograph matched, I struck up a conversation. As you can see, I was not quite sober yet.

He definitely didn't recognize me, but that should be expected from our having talked almost exclusively on the phone. The conversation ended fairly quickly, and I returned to sobering up.

When I had finally done that, I walked out and didn't acknowledge him when I saw him standing on the sidewalk. But as I made my way to the car, he hollered at me and asked for a ride into Cleveland. I thought that was kind of weird, but I decided to oblige.

I brought my car around, and rather than two people getting in, four did. I don't think I've ever had five people in my car before. But I drove them downtown and managed to make some conversation in the meantime. I didn't think I was drunk anymore, but the presence of conversation makes me wonder.

When I dropped them off, some guy in the backseat handed me some cash, and I was going to decline but decided not to. The back seat emptied out and Rick remained in the front seat for a minute finishing off the conversation. Then he handed me some cash. It was great.

It wasn't until I was on my way home that I realized I had made $35 dollars by making a five-minute detour. I was going to stop in at Rob's house on the way home, but after 10 minutes of driving around Meadowood, I gave up. I should probably know where my brother lives.

All in all, a pretty good New Year's. Let's see if it keeps up.
--McJangles 3:10 AM
|