I'm not sure exactly what it is I love about Brazilian music... I've been listening to it a lot lately. I mean, I guess since James first introduced me to Jobim and bossa nova I've listened to it on and off. But now I'm all about Caetano Veloso. Actually, I think Gabe introduced me to Caetano's music.

I bought an X-Men video (the FOX cartoon) at the mall yesterday. It's got the second Savage Land saga and the Dark Phoenix Saga. It's pretty good stuff, even if it is kind of poor quality. Actually, that reminds me of what I was doing at the mall in the first place.

I ran into my buddy Dante at Barnes and Noble yesterday while I was dropping off my availability (I'll get to that in a minute), and we talked for a little while. He told me about a buddy of his who met Max Roach, and how they just shot the shit for a while (i.e. "Oh yeah, I played with Bird..."). Dante was pissed 'cause he's a big jazz aficionado but his friend knew zero about jazz at the time. Somehow Dante and I got to talking about old 80s cartoons and he told me about how he was watching a couple episodes of G.I. Joe (the two most ridiculous ones: Cobrathon and Cold Slither) with his friends and he didn't realize as a kid a) how poor the overall quality was and b) how nationalistic they were. He said the videos were on sale at the mall so I went over there after our conversation.

Anyway, I was at B&N because I needed to drop off my availability. I used to have a reasonably good relationship with Amy, the assistant to the head manager of the store. Amy used to give me the same hours every week (Friday 6-10 and Sunday 1:30-10) during the school year, and then during the summer I'd get 32 hours a week, including my Sunday shift. I'd tell her which days I had to leave early or couldn't work, and she'd schedule me around them. Then, one day, she scheduled me for a Saturday. You see, we had this agreement when I first started working at Barnes and Noble (two years ago) that I'd only work Sundays. No Saturdays. So when I innocently asked her about it, she threw a fit. I don't mean she just just got annoyed, but she fucking went ripshit on my ass. I had a forty-five minute argument with her, during the course of which she suggested I leave the store. Furthermore, she could no longer honor my weekly schedule; I had to go in every month or so and write down on a piece of paper which days I can and can't work. Until Barnes and Noble instituted a form on which I have to write my availability. The problem is, these forms are smaller than a business card. So when I wrote my avalability for the next two months on a piece of paper, then stapled one of these little papers to it explaining that it was too small to fit everything on, I get a note back from Amy stating, and I'm quoting now, "Please put on form or I can't promise you -Amy." If it hadn't been for my horse, I wouldn't have gone to college. So yesterday, when I went in, I photocopied nine of these forms onto one piece of paper and filled them all out, then wrote a note at the bottom asking for thirty-two hours a week. So now, I hate the woman. I hate Amy.


Quote of the Day:
Vagaba vampira
O velho esquema desmorona desta vez pra valer
Tarada, mesquinha,
Pensa que e dona e eu lhe pergunto: quem lhe deu tanto axe?
A-toa, vadia,
Comeca uma outra historia aqui na luz deste dia D:
Na boa, na minha,
Eu vou vivez dez,
Eu vou viver cem,
Eu vou viver mil,
Eu vou viver sem voce

-from Nao Enche, by Caetano Veloso

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