Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center.
- Kurt Vonnegut
Farewell, old fart.
At first, I was upset about Vonnegut's death, but then, I visited his website, which features only a drawing of a cage with an open door and his birth and death dates. I want to cry. Not because he's dead. Everything indicated he was ready to go. No, I'm sad because such an eloquent writer is gone, but happy that he got to go out in the way he wanted to: quietly and with dignity.
I will always look to him as my curmudgeonly hero. I aspire to that level of curmudgeonliness and hope I can enjoy as successful an existence (ie: not dying) for as long as he did.
In the meantime, I am getting closer to that edge. I just gave Two Weeks' Notice at my job.
Probably now my handsome, British boss will beg me to stay on and help find my replacement and we will have some hilarious hijinks and fall madly in love. Or my western Canadian boss will nod and look depressed and ask why I had to quit on his birthday.
So I'm done at the Sun at the end of April and will be moving to Guelph to work as a copy editor at the daily paper there. I had a few doubts, since mostly, I want to write, but they're very pro-freelancing and I have a few ideas that I want to pitch to magazines in Toronto. So yay! It was time to move from the Sun, since it is, how you say, setting? I got bumped around from department to department to "save my job" which was nice, I guess. But I ended up not really LIKING the job I ended up with. Having a job is one thing, but just any old job is not good enough. I mean, as much as I enjoy some of the magazine stuff I've been doing (I interviewed the Kaiser Chiefs yesterday) I dislike the other stuff.
The stuff like the "Discover" magazines we do for communities surrounding Calgary and the magazine about, I don't know, school boards and business profiles, which is basically calling people and asking them "So! Tell me why is your business so awesome?" Now that I've given my notice, I am sorely tempted to be like Peter in Office Space and tell my boss: "You know, the nazis had advertorials they made the jews write."
Speaking of birthdays (as I was earlier) I am about to have another one. On Friday the 13th, in fact. A double lucky day for me! I hope to consume many shots at my local watering hole, get mightily smashed and preferably make out with somebody drunkenly.
Tube: Tonight is the "lab rats" takeover episode of CSI. I wish Bobby Dawson were involved, but it looks entertaining. I'm also wrapped up in the saga of Scrubs and I'm watching Joan of Arcadia via torrents. I mean, via perfectly legal DVDs.
Text: Kurt Vonnegut's A Man Without A Country.
Tunes: I bought an iPod recently and I'm still getting used to its incredible awesomeness.
Hypertext:boobtube is still going strong, though we've changed a little bit about what we're writing. The number of people angry about how much I profess to hate Ghost Whisperer is staggering!
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