Catch Up 22

Here's the last five months, in a nutshell...

Working 9 to 5 9:15ish to around 6:00...

I am an SEO Copywriter. It's the first job I've ever had that includes an acronym, unless you count my stint as the self-appointed MFIC* at Brinker. SEO, in case you were idly wondering, means Search Engine Optimization. Basically, I write articles for a major yellow pages website**, incorporating as many key search terms into the text as I can so they'll rank high on Google, Yahoo, and the other major search engines.

When last I left you guys, I was slogging away at the Michaels Help Desk, willingly participating in their nefarious Cradle-to-the-Grave Minimum Wage Plan™ in the hopes that something better would come along. They had big plans for creating a tech writer/trainer position, and they felt I'd be perfect for the role. Unfortunately, due to some rather hamfisted budgetary constraints and the fact that Michaels upper management regards the Help Desk with the same degree of respect one might have for a Nazi pedophile who voted for Nader, they wouldn't be able to create the job until sometime in 2007... MAYBE. This meant I would have to bide my time on the Help Desk. Which, in case I haven't mentioned in the last four sentences or so, paid HORRIBLY!

So there I was, one Sunday last November, working my way through the calls in the queue and wondering if I hadn't made some kind of horrible life choice. One of the guys who was supposed to be working with me hadn't shown up, and I was slammed with calls from angry managers, clueless cashiers, and one octogenarian Frame Shop manager who kept insisting that her computer wasn't working was because it hated her. All in all, it was a real Calgon moment.

And then, my friend Silver called me, whom you may recall from our homoerotic Valentine's Day dinner a few years ago. Silver is the head of the Technology & Development Department the media company that owns the major yellow pages website**. He asked me if I'd be willing to meet him for dinner and listen to his offer for a tech writing contract position there. I told him that, at that point, I'd be ecstatic to listen to anything he had to say. And even though there were still many calls in the queue, I abandoned my co-workers at Michaels to go meet Silver. He pitched. I accepted, and gave my two-weeks notice the following day.

So now, I'm writing articles. It's a sweet gig. I'm working with my friends, I get medical benefits and other cool, grown-up stuff like that, and I'm making TWICE what I was making at Michaels.

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*Mother Fucker In Charge

** I was recently informed that mentioning the actual name of the company on this potty-mouthed blog might give the folks in Legal an aneurysm, so now I'm going through and changing all the references to something vague. But in case anyone is wondering, my overuse of the word "retard" is a personal choice and in no way reflects the corporate policy of said yellow pages website.


Fly Me to the Moon...

Stephanie loves me, and I love her, and the world is just a big, schmoopy muffin basket full of rainbows and unicorns and puppy dog kisses! I could go on, but I'm sure you guys are far too busy vomiting to read the rest.

Ever since I went to Vegas the first time and saw the fountains at the Bellagio, I've had this fantasy of smooching a girl in front of the fountains while a Frank Sinatra song plays in the background. So when Stephanie and I went to Vegas last April with my friends Sean and Laura, she was game to make my dreams come true. We went to the Bellagio and managed to get a primo seat on the balcony right by the fountains, and we waited. They played some Celine Dion, Elton John, and a lot of opera songs and show tunes, but no Frank. Steph was a good sport and made out with me while the Pink Panther Theme was playing, but it just wasn't the same.

So we left the Bellagio to head over to the Treasure Island Casino to watch the skanky Sirens of TI show, and just as we were passing in front of the fountains, they sprang to life and Frank started singing Fly Me to the Moon! I was just dumbstruck, so Stephanie grabbed me and kissed me until the song was over.

Sigh...