elbuzzard.com

Happy Father’s Day to all you Dads out there!

Yesterday I researched the local staffing (temp) agencies in the area. Not surprisingly there were agencies that looked as if they couldn’t staff a PhD and others than looked as if they would be a good match. I sent in my application and resume (the application had questions such as, how long did you work a pallet jack (2 years!) and if you were ever a receptionist, how many phone lines did you work?). This morning I got a call back and have to go in tomorrow to fill out paperwork and complete their test on computer skills. Despite the fact that I’m very proficient in computers, I’m still worried. I’m not that fabulous at making graphs and anything requiring numbers floors me.

Wish me luck. I can’t wait to begin making money again. And the nicest part of a temp agency is that I get paid weekly. Yay.

I got back last night from a conference in my old home of Boston yesterday. I had hoped to make continuous updates to the site from my hotel, since at $145 a night I expected free high-speed internet access. No dice. I supposed I could have charged the 33 cents a minute to the fine people of Georgia along with everything else, but my conscience got the better of me and I toughed it out with no internet. It was horrific.

Here’s some highlights of my trip:

1. A lady on the plane told me about the weather, and how bad it has been. She said, “It’s been raining so long that it has really taken a toll on people’s moods.” I commented that the general mood of New Englanders is pretty lousy to begin with. She took slight offense until she found out I had lived in Salem and Medford and told me I was allowed to tell the truth about New England since I had lived there. However, it began a little North-South battle. She then pointed out the kid sitting a row ahead of us and said, “That kid must be from the South, he’s in his barefeet.” Which in fact he was, having taken off his flip flops. I countered with “I bet he’s from New England since he’s got his feet up on the seat in front of him. He’s got New England manners.” When he turned around we both saw the Red Sox cap. I was the victor.
2. Tedi Bruschi is doing great, I stopped by his house on the way to the hotel from the airport to see how he was doing and to drop off a peach cobbler that Warrick Dunn gave me to give to him. That Warrick is a great cook, and all around nice guy. Tedi says he will play next season and will continue to be my favorite Patriot.
3. I went out to Harvard Square to meet JS, a friend from library school. We stopped by the Harvard Bookstore where David Sedaris was doing a book reading. It reminded me that despite its terrible weather, crabby people, and expensive rent, Boston is a pretty cool place to live. They broadcast the book reading on speakers to the street, and quite a crowd showed up when Sedaris started talking about “cocksuckers,” “fucky-fucks”, and lesbian pornography. Funny, when he was reading a fable about a baboon and a cat, no one that was walking by stopped to listen.
4. Every male from the ages of 15-35 in Boston wears a Red Sox cap. I saw no less that 7 life-size cardboard stand-ups of Johnny Damon around town.

After a brief email interaction, I sent the love of my life (discussed in ‘On My Way to Cybersex) my picture, which, evidently, has ended our relationship. This abrupt conclusion to my two-day affair has left me heartbroken and convinced that looks do matter. Hopeless in New Orleans, sex out of the questions, man boobs too big … life fading away … bald

This my first attempt at Internet dating. Here’s who I chose. What do you think?

Do you love needy, emotional cripples who suffer perpetual mood swings? Do you like girls who demand constant attention and assurance from you and when you give it, push you away and complain that you are smothering them; then, when you leave them alone for ten minutes, they scream that you don’t love them anymore and are cheating on them with someone else as they raid your cell phone for the whore of Babylon’s phone number or plunge their heads madly into your laundry basket in search of another woman’s perfume? Perhaps you would like a girl with advanced degrees from pretentious universities who probably couldn’t function in a job at a taco stand for very long because she finds all jobs painfully boring and a waste of her time. Probably the girl of your dreams views offices as microcosms of the world; that is, insane asylums with bars and no escape. Death or insanity are your true love’s only options as she operates the copy machine and wonders why doing this 8 hours a day is considered healthy and normal. The best part is every day when she comes home and tells you how much she hates her job. You love this. In fact, you live for it. The monotonous, epic tirade about how she is a slave to money and bills and derives no satisfaction whatsoever from a single minute of her repetitive, mundane existence is the highlight of your day. Most days, it is all she can do to keep from plunging a letter-opener into her chest as she date-stamps the mail over and over and over again. The very thought of this makes you want to take her in your arms, tell her everything will be fine, kiss the tears off her beefy, apoplectic face, and throw her down on the floor and have wild sex. The best part is how calm and stabilized she becomes after sex. Your power over this girl’s emotions is like crack.

What I am looking for: a somewhat bookish, intellectual and/or artistic, sensitive, patient fellow between the ages of 33 and 40 who likes to nurture little wounded forest animals back to health; a guy who can manage to walk the fine line of rescuer (without being too stifling) and slightly sadistic tormentor who won’t put up with shenanigans or nonsense of any kind (yes, the ‘daddy’ issues you have at your disposal are infinite). No jealous types or controlling freakshows please. You are very calm and self-assured. No major self-esteem issues to speak of.

What you’re looking for. A tall, thin, eccentric, often reserved, sometimes not (remember, mood swings), creative, impulsive, sometimes socially inept individual who isn’t very mentally stable. You love temper tantrums intermingled with sobbing spells, followed by a few weeks of catatonia. You view the catatonia as a vacation. You can catch up on reading, pursue your own interests, or just rest up for the next raging storm. You are probably an enabler who views his girlfriend as a very complicated and challenging project. It’s all good.

Please include a pic or I am afraid I won’t be responding. This is not so much to judge your looks. I am not that shallow (well, ok, maybe a little).