I've Got Gmail, Poor And Packageless Pube Guy, And My New Job

I must say that the man behind New World Disorder rocks for giving me MY VERY OWN GMAIL ACCOUNT. That's right. I have gmail. I had to beg three different people to get it, so it’s good that I have very little in the way of pride issues to interfere with my joy. Gmail me. I dare you. Actually, I beg you. There is little that has given me more joy over the last few days than watching new mail pop up in my gmail account.

I have noticed a new stupid fashion trend. Young men are trying really hard to look like racecar drivers. There is a style of jacket that comes in both leather and that breathable nylon-type fabric that the motorcyclists and their greener cousins, the bicyclists, wear. I have always thought they were hideous, but now there are so many more of them around, and they seem to be covered with much more advertising than they used to be. I think that's what bugs me. The motorcyclist guy I spoke to earlier had ads for different companies all over his jacket, but I doubt that he was actually receiving any money for endorsing them like someone actually driving the circuit. It's kind of silly. It reminds of little boys dressing up so they can pretend to be Jacques Villeneuve or some such racing celebrity.

Why do I bring this up? I bring this up for an extremely good reason. I usually don't care what boring and semi-conscious style men are sporting, because I don't usually look at them anyway, and what they wear is usually boring and semi-conscious. Today, though, for a brief period of time at work, I had to look at such attire, and I had to look at it with a great amount of concentration.

A young man in the cyclist's variety of this jacket came in, and while I was helping him, I happened to glance down. No, I was not checking out his package (although, poor thing, he had no discernible package). I was simply looking down occasionally because he was one of those people who has a habit of staring you directly in the eye the entire time they are talking to you, and it was unnerving. So, I glanced down, and I noticed that the ties to his shorts weren't tied, and then I noticed that his shorts were kind of low, and then it dawned on me that he wasn't wearing underwear that was eerily close to human skin colour but that that was his own human skin. And then I noticed the pubic hair. Really. It was fluffing out of the untied opening of his shorts. If you're going to go commando, please take care to tie up your shorts, especially if you wear them low.

So you see, I am not so superficially obsessed with the fashion world of the lame or checking out the packages of men with a lame fashion sense. I just don't want to find myself accidentally confronted with a man's pubic hair in the middle of my work day. It's no good for me. It's probably no good for anyone he passes in the halls, either.

And now for something much more important and life-changing than gmail and unwanted pubic hair sightings... I got the new job that I applied for and was so nervous about getting. It is an eleven-month term position with a possibility of extension, and I couldn't be happier. I get to actually use a number of my higher work skills and work with people who have some energy and a positive attitude. I won’t know what to do with myself in a job that requires me to actually work and possibly not have to experience an emotional near-flatline involving the almost indistinguishable shades of bitterness throughout my workday.

During my interview, the three people who I was faced with were laughing and joking around in a way that I had almost forgotten could happen in a work environment. During my three years in this city, I have had some truly awful jobs with organizations populated by bitter and unlaughing co-workers whose idea of being welcoming toward me was to warn me about the agendas of each of my other co-workers’. I have not exactly experienced the warm-and-fuzzies much while pursuing a paycheque in this town. Watching people laughing and poking fun at themselves was downright invigorating.

I start the new position near the end of the month. It’s amazing how much less stressful I am finding my present job now that I know I will be leaving it in a week-and-a-half. I actually woke up in a good mood this morning, I looked forward to my day – this, too, I had forgotten; I had forgotten my ability to wake up without feeling that I had nothing to look forward to in the first ten hours of my day.

And in order to properly celebrate getting my official letter of employment this morning, I think Red and I will go for a beer after work. My new, surprisingly relaxed self will be able to properly enjoy the 30oC sunny weather for the first time this summer.

I have just added W3C Markup Validation Service to my links page. It is “a free service that checks documents like HTML and XHTML for conformance to W3C recommendations and other standards”.

I have also shamelessly added a wish list to my links page under “extras”.

A Bleak Dream

The Anchor Was There – It Was Just Dragging Along The Bottom For A While