Giando Sigurani's Online Empire

Listen.

I know I am prone to making grandiose statements, but this one, while particularly gigantic in its grandioseness, is probably very true. I will not deign to think that I know everything about you, or indeed anything at all about you. I'm only going to tell you what I know.

And what I know is that I probably like the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy a whole lot more than you do.

I'm not saying that I know more about it than you do, (even though that is probably true!) I'll just say that there's a good chance that I enjoy it, that I adore it, that I hold it in esteem far higher than than you do, more, likely, than any being on Earth capable of holding things in states of esteem, be they high or otherwise.

Today is Cinco De Mayo. It's a holiday. I know this because the bus did not come this morning, so I had to ride my bike all the way to work and, therefore, I made it there fifteen minutes early. Buses in Oregon are- somehow, despite being powered by diesel engines and legally able to drive in the street- slower than any alternative method of transportation you can possibly choose in any given circumstance. Buses will always be the slowest and worst way to get there. I think it has something to do with time dilation. Things that are driven by maddening bureaucratic robots are apparently going to be slower than things that are not, every time.

Yesterday was May the Fourth. It's not a holiday, but apparently it means something to a certain subculture of nerds. It's Star Wars Day. The day in the year when I'm reminded of George Lucas' contributions to the world and and have no choice but to give thanks to the fact that, while my circumstances may seem grim at times, and my contributions to the world appreciated less than I'd like them to be, at least I'm not also a Star Wars fan.

As I wait by the phone for prospective employers to call me (I really killed those interviews, even the one where I had no sleep whatsoever), my online journal sits empty and postless. Sure, I could upload the post I have written and ready to go, but if any of the aforementioned employers go looking for me on the interwebs, I don't ever want them to ask themselves, "Do we really want to hire someone who uses the word 'vagina' with such little prejudice?"

The descriptions I make of myself vary, ranging from “curmudgeonly” to “somewhat negative” to “cynical” to “terrorist.” But one thing that remains in all my self-musings is the fact that I wear hats, and that they are awesome. People lately have been asking about my hats, and what, exactly, makes them so awesome.