I am in the socially awkward but technologically happy place of having more Gmail invites than friends who will appreciate them. Therefore, I am giving away a Gmail invite to the next person who e-mails me at pithlog at gmaildotcom and tells me who they prefer: Meatwad, Master Shake, or Frylock. (Why? Why not!) I’ll update this site when the invite has been given away.

At 7:30 this morning I was standing half-asleep in a gas station checkout line, waiting to buy a cup of noodles for lunch. (I usually do better with lunches, but this is one of those weeks where grocery shopping becomes a privilege and not a right.) Anyway, I was sort of nodding off while some woman argued with the clerk about her lottery winnings when suddenly these voices boomed down from above: “Half Price Computer Books?? That sounds like a silly job!!” Wait.. that’s where I work! For one brief shining moment I was sure that some celestial creatures had finally taken pity on me. I wanted to fall on my knees, rattle my dehydrated noodles at the sky and shout, “It is! It is a silly job! And it’s about time you higher powers noticed that!”

Then one of the celestial voices made a rude joke and honked a horn, and I realized they were simply morning radio DJs and my co-worker had called in and won some tickets to the city fair and everyone in line was waiting for me to stop daydreaming and buy my noodles, already. And that was my brief brush with divine intervention.

True confession time: I was a total gossip queen in high school. I loved knowing who had fallen out with their clique, who was smoking out behind the portables, and who was making out with someone not their girlfriend at the dance during Stairway to Heaven. The problem I’ve found with being a SuperGossip, though, is that I can’t do it at work. I’m a boss-type figure, and I try to use my powers for good and not evil. (Ummmmm.. mostly. I try!)

Fortunately for me I’ve discovered a new source for all my social drama needs: strata council meetings! Who knew the joys of condo ownership could include such fantastic in-fighting, name-calling, and general attitude? Mr. Pith and I went to our first meeting a couple of weeks ago, and right away noticed that we were just about the only people in the room under 55. We were immediately adopted by this colossal woman in a garish mumu who alternated between telling us the secrets of fellow attendees and complaining about all the “Chinamen” on the roads (I figured she was about thirty seconds away from ranting about the “Yellow Peril”). When people started shouting at each other during roll call, we knew we were in for a fun show.

By the end of the meeting three hours later there had been one complete coup for power of the council, three petitions, an action-packed argument on whether obese cats would fall under a large pet
ban, and this little old lady in the front row (at least eighty years old) had stood up and shouted at the room, “Fuckers! You fuckers!”

Apparently there is now a poster campaign being planned to shame a fellow on the top floor who put an unapproved awning on his deck. I signed myself up for tape duty. I love being a homeowner.

United Package Smashers: “turning parcels into pancakes, one package at a time”.
USPS Horror Stories
Hypnotize your eBay bidders!
(Sorry. All my “spare” time — otherwise known as when normal people sleep — is spent working onour eBay business, which I have just linked again because I have no shame.)

My boss’ full name is really similar (sounds the same, spelled slightly different) to a popular gay porn domain name. This has been pointed out to him a few times by various different people, and a good chuckle is had by all.

This morning, though, he was greeted by a written phone message on his desk: “Howard Stern’s office called — wants to help you promote your website.” We briefly considered capitalizing on the false notariety and becoming something akin to the Monica Lewinsky of online booksellers, but in the end decided to pass. And thus concluded my fake porn career.

Media fight! This week Dalton Ross (aka the funniest writer currently in Entertainment Weekly) responds to a public smackdown from Ken Wahl’s publicist on the Reviewing Entertainment Weekly weblog. (Perhaps, erm, the publicist of Ken Wahl (who??) should spend more time publicizing and less time sending angry letters to random websites. But that’s just me.)