I flinched and turned to see Erin standing at my table, a half-full glass of a dark amber liquid in one hand. She was leaning on her walker with the other hand. The faint light from the single candle on the table made it difficult to tell whether her hair was still streaked pink or something closer to purple. She wore a black T-shirt over a short denim skirt. There was some lettering made out of tiny beads stitched into the front of the T-shirt, but I couldn’t read it from where she was standing. “Oh, hey, Erin. Yeah, it’s pretty cool, huh?”
She nodded. “Must ‘e nice tuh-to ‘ave rich friends.” Erin gave me a quizzical look. “Why ah you suh-sitting here all ‘lone?”
I shrugged. “It’s been kind of a strange day. I think I wanted to be by myself for a little bit.”
“Oh,” said Erin. She pulled one of the chairs away from the table and sat across from me. The beading on her T-shirt sparkled and now I could read what it said: PORN STAR. “‘Ell, I need to suh-sit down. My ‘eet ‘urt. Jus’ pruh-pruh-pretend I’m n’uh here.”
I chuckled. “It’s okay. I could probably use the company. You having fun?”
The ice in Erin’s glass clinked softly as she raised it to her lips. “Sure,” she said. She set the glass down and she wiped away the few droplets that were running down her chin with the back of her hand. “‘Ots of cute guys here an’ even a fuh-few girls. Did you ‘ee that one guh-girl sitting ‘ith Vic’s parents at dinner?” I shook my head. “Fuckin’ guh-gorgeous,” she said with an emphatic tilt of her head. “‘Oo bad she’s n’uh bi.”
I pushed cake crumbs around my plate with my fork. “Yeah? How can you tell?”
“A girl nuh-knows these things, ‘Ames,” she said with the tone of a teacher lecturing a particularly dense pupil. Her eyes got all dreamy and unfocused. “Course, suh-sometimes all they nee’ is a li’l push in the right duh-direction.”
“And you’re the one to give that push. Is that what you’re saying?”
A coy smile flickered across her lips. “Neh-never hurts to try.” She folded her arms on the table and looked at me intently. “So tuh-tell me. Why ah you ‘aving a ‘range ‘ay?”
I glanced around to make sure Dad wasn’t in earshot and then I told her about the mess I had gotten myself into at Shifting Paradigms, culminating in me quitting/getting fired/whatever that morning. When I finished, Erin reached across the table and patted my hand. “I’m ‘orry, ‘Ames. But it suh-sounds ‘ike you di’n’t want to buh-be there anyway.”
I gave her hand a friendly squeeze and let it go. “I thought I did, at first. After graduation, I thought it would be really difficult to find a job, y’know? And I go in for my first interview and they seem to really like me.” I snorted in disgust. “Well, except for that prick Cy. I keep thinking I could have done something differently to get him to like me. I don’t what, but something.”
Erin frowned. “I ‘oubt it. I don’t th-think it ‘eally had anything to duh-do with you personally. He wanted someone el’ for the job an’ you were in the ‘ay.”
“Yeah, but I made it easier for him to get rid of me.” I rubbed my eyes wearily. “And now I have to start all over. It fucking sucks.”
Erin pushed her glass towards me. “‘Ere, want this? I’ve ‘ad enough tonight.” I didn’t bother to ask what it was. The ice in the glass had nearly melted and what I swallowed was mostly water laced with enough whiskey to warm the back of my throat.
“I ‘ink I saw a job puh-posting for something at Disability Suhvices at the U,” said Erin as I crunched a piece of ice between my teeth. “They ‘ot a new director who’s ruh-really cool. Want me ‘o e-mail it to ‘ou?”
“Sure, I guess.” It came out sounding less appreciative than I had intended and I got a funny look from Erin. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s just that the idea of going back there seems kind of depressing. I stuffed envelopes and answered the telephone in that place for almost six semesters in a row. Going back there to do the same thing as a full-time job would be, I don’t know, like saying I can’t make it anywhere else.”
Erin shook her head. “It’s nuh-not that kind of ‘ob. I ‘ink it ‘as suh-something to do with a grant they ‘ot. I’ll ‘end it ‘morrow.”
“Thanks,” I said. I looked back towards the people crowded around the bar. “You could probably find someone to hang out with who’s a lot more fun than me right now.”
Erin glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah, ‘robably.” She turned to look at me with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes to compliment the glitter on her shirt. “‘Ut it’s more fuh-fun to see ‘ou all ah-angsty and brooding. It’s ‘ind of sexy.”
“I’m brooding because you didn’t bring me a present,” I said with mock-seriousness. I turned my palms up on the table. “What’s up with that, huh? I thought you were my friend.”
Erin leaned forward and I noticed the outlines of her nipples pushing against the tight fabric of her T-shirt. I quickly looked up so it wouldn’t seem like I was gawking. An enigma of a smile touched the corners of her lips. “Ah-all you have ‘o do is ask for i’, Jay’s,” she said in a low voice. “Just ask.”

This AP report points out that massive numbers of young people are registering to vote. Could be good news for Kerry; the last time we had a large turnout of young voters was in 1992. As far as I can tell, neither campaign has done much to reach out to young voters. Drew Barrymore was recently on The Daily Show to promote a documentary she produced about young voters. If our nation has to rely on the likes of Drew Barrymore to get out the under-30 vote, matters are worse than I first thought. Despite her apparent earnestness on the subject of political participation, she reminded me of a pep squad leader trying to teach an introductory civics seminar. Young people need to see how politics affects the concrete things in their lives. My sister told me that her roommate, a bright woman bound for medical school, may or may not vote. I remember the apathy of my early twenties, but it boggles my mind that anyone would choose to sit on the sidelines during this election.
I’m intrigued by the new Green Day album. I was never much of a fan of theirs, but the reviews for Amercan Idiot are comparing it to Radiohead’s OK Computer, one of my all-time favorites. I must find out if the hype is justified.

For what it is, Sky Captain is a perfectly enjoyable Saturday-matinee type of movie. And what it is is a visually appealing bit of eye candy that has all the emotional resonance you’d expect from a director who spends most of his time in front of a computer. This isn’t to say it’s a bad movie. It’s not. The affection for old-skool 1930s serials and comics is evident in every frame. But the actors seem to be present only as a reason to justify the dazzling pictures flickering on the screen. Unlike Spiderman 2 or Return of the King, the CGI effects in Sky Captain do not exist for the purpose of telling a deeper story. Hopefully, the director will develop a better feel for character and story. If he does, I think we could be in for some real treats.

Kottke points us to a story about the guilty pleasures people store on their iPods. Guilty pleasures like New Kids on the Block or Britney Spears. At the risk of obliterating my own street cred, here are a few of the tracks I play when nobody’s looking
“Shattered Dreams” by Johnny Hates Jazz. I am a child of the 80s, after all.
“Cry Me A River” by Justin Timberlake. Possibly my most shameful selection.
“Genie in a Bottle” by Christina Aguilera. Hey, it’s catchy as hell. And she’s hot. Or at least she was before she went all skanky.
“Take My Breath Away” by Berlin. More cotton candy from the Reagan Era.
“Whenever, Wherever” by Shakira. Extremely catchy. Extremely hot.
I want to create an all-sugar playlist on my iPod, so send me your suggestions for the cheesiest, schmaltziest, sappiest songs that have ever had the misfortune of being recorded.
I’m thinking it would be cool to convene some of us Twin Cities/Greater Minnesota bloggers for a beer or something. I need to do some research and figure out how many of us there are and whether there’s interest in organizing something like that.

A friend and I are planning on seeing Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow this weekend. Two things about this film intrigue me. First, the technical. The movie was shot entirely in front of a blue screen, which makes me wonder if I’ll be too distracted by the gee-whiz factor of the images to give critical attention to the plot. I have my doubts about sticking live actors in a computer-generated universe for a whole movie, but the idea is interesting. Second, the cultural. The film goes for a retro sci-fi feel that I can really dig. Anyone remember the computer role-playing game Fallout from a few years ago? I loved that game because it had a similar theme. Retro sci-fi has this rollocking, playful ambiance that is missing from modern SF. Think Buck Rogers or a lot of the B-films from the 40s and 50s. I hope this movie is successful enough to encourage the development of other retro-style stories.
I was watching Conan last night and they did a short bit where they had a camera following one of their staff, a total Stargate geek, as he did a walk-on part on the actual show. I think it’d be great fun to do a bit part on a show like Enterprise. I’m not sure how they’d write me in the script. Maybe as a hologram or the result of a medical experiment gone horribly awry. Now I just need to figure out how to get the show’s producers to see this blog.