happiness soup
I took the day off until about 2pm when I got called into work and ended up staying for a full day's worth of hours. Last night after going to this yokel bar in the north part of town where I had three drinks more than I wanted to and watched these kids from Connecticut get really really fucked up. They turned the place into their personal party palace: They were mixing their own drinks behind the bar, dancing and stripping on the back bar, making out near the pay phones, fighting in the parking lot and someone, from what I heard, puked a bucket's full of vomit in the bathroom sink. I tried this rum called VooDoo for the first time and it certainly cast some kind of weird spell on me. It wasn't anything a little Carl's Jr. couldn't fix right quick. I passed out on the couch, though I felt pretty sober when I get home. I hopped off the couch around 7:30am feeling spry and energetic. I must have had a good night's sleep. That must be what it feels like. I wouldn't know, really, because I haven't slept all that much lately. I started watching the coverage of the World Cup, and around nine, I'd decided that I wasn't going to go in today.
I called the office, because I'm stupid and responsible, though I'm sure if I hadn't, I would've gotten a call. I asked if the magazine was finally uploaded to the printer, or if we were going to finally do that today, and I was told that that was taken care of over the weekend. I was ecstatic because I figured that meant I wouldn't have to part ways with the couch at all today. However, I was told that the online proofs would probably be ready, and I would receive a call when they were. I was able to watch the US get their asses handed to them by the Czech Republic and shouted with glee as Italy defeated Ghana. My loyalties are split, and the bastards who make up the World Cup brackets put Italy and the US in the same group. I don't know who I'm going to cheer for come Saturday when they both face off, but after the US's showing (or lack thereof) today, they need the game a whole lot more than Italy does.
Going through the online proofs is as equally mind-numbing as it is soul-crushing. It's not really editing, per se, since any changes we make at that point cost us a chunk of change, so I can't go adding commas and things of that nature. We can only reupload pages for big stuff like missing pictures, misspelled headlines and things of that nature. Anything else that I see that had gotten through our rounds of editing, I just have to bite my tongue and accept. I only found one thing so far that I was 99% sure I changed when I was making corrections. No one will probably notice it but me, but that one error has pretty much destroyed any enjoyment this issue could ever bring me. Better luck on the next one.
Seeking solace, I went to my smelly underground oasis, the Chinese restaurant, for some hearty grub and a slice of zen. Again, the place was crowded, and there was a table of women locked in the throes of a sake bomb fest. I overheard one of them say she had upwards of 10. I wasn't discouraged, though, I ate my wonton soup and drank a Tsing Tao. It was another cool night tonight, so I seized the opportunity to eat a nice hot bowl of soup. We may not have another nice night like this until October.
I called the office, because I'm stupid and responsible, though I'm sure if I hadn't, I would've gotten a call. I asked if the magazine was finally uploaded to the printer, or if we were going to finally do that today, and I was told that that was taken care of over the weekend. I was ecstatic because I figured that meant I wouldn't have to part ways with the couch at all today. However, I was told that the online proofs would probably be ready, and I would receive a call when they were. I was able to watch the US get their asses handed to them by the Czech Republic and shouted with glee as Italy defeated Ghana. My loyalties are split, and the bastards who make up the World Cup brackets put Italy and the US in the same group. I don't know who I'm going to cheer for come Saturday when they both face off, but after the US's showing (or lack thereof) today, they need the game a whole lot more than Italy does.
Going through the online proofs is as equally mind-numbing as it is soul-crushing. It's not really editing, per se, since any changes we make at that point cost us a chunk of change, so I can't go adding commas and things of that nature. We can only reupload pages for big stuff like missing pictures, misspelled headlines and things of that nature. Anything else that I see that had gotten through our rounds of editing, I just have to bite my tongue and accept. I only found one thing so far that I was 99% sure I changed when I was making corrections. No one will probably notice it but me, but that one error has pretty much destroyed any enjoyment this issue could ever bring me. Better luck on the next one.
Seeking solace, I went to my smelly underground oasis, the Chinese restaurant, for some hearty grub and a slice of zen. Again, the place was crowded, and there was a table of women locked in the throes of a sake bomb fest. I overheard one of them say she had upwards of 10. I wasn't discouraged, though, I ate my wonton soup and drank a Tsing Tao. It was another cool night tonight, so I seized the opportunity to eat a nice hot bowl of soup. We may not have another nice night like this until October.
3 comments:
It's like World Cup headquarters over here. Not that I've actually seen a game.
World Cup headquaters here too, i'm proud to say i watched Australia whip Japan's (let's kill as many whales as we can) arse's :o)
i'm glad to see national pride is swelling, as are the jabs at other nations' whale slaughtering practices. can't we all just get along? not when soccer is involved...hehe
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