don’t be a jerk

Steve Jobs just announced that Apples will be transitioning to Intel processors over the next 2 years. Partly because of this, the new Macintosh portable lines have not been updated, which they usually are at this point. Because of this, I still don’t have a Mac at home. Because of this I can only update my blog when I decide to visit work, like I’m doing today.
 
***
 
I still have another 2 weeks of vacation left. The Achievers shoot is going well. It’s stressful because it’s not just low-budget - it’s no-budget. I’ve missed lots of Propergander shows, and Spiffy’s getting lots and lots of stage time. It’s a nice little pleasure when I actually get make it to the show and put on my beard.
 
***
 
I’ve been smoking a lot. Like more than I ever have. I smoked a full pack one day. Craft services also doesn’t provide much fiber, and since I’m in makeup all the time, I don’t want to work out in my free time and sweat it out. My body is craptacular shape right now.
 
***
 
Chezmiko?
What the hell is all this “tag” stuff?
 
***
 
I came home 2 days ago to find a neighbor (not from my building, but the building next to it) waving me over. I go to the side of the building and he points to one of the upper windows, which has water shooting out of it. I recognize it as the apartment of the really old woman that lives in my apartment.
 
For those of you that don’t know, I have a really old woman that lives in my building. She’s like 90 or something.
 
Great, I think. She’s dead. And I have to deal with it now.
 
I go up and pound on her door. No one answers for a minute. I pull out my phone to call 911, and decide to pound the door one last time. I hear her yelling inside, and I yell back for her to let me in.
 
The woman’s faucet had come out of her kitchen sink and her kitchen was now a geysering flood. There were tools all over the place, leading me to believe that she had spent the last half hour trying to fix it herself. She was shivering and completely soaked and yelling incoherently. I seriously can’t understand what the hell this woman is saying when she’s calm, let alone when she’s freaking out.
 
I literally yell at the old woman to shut up and put on some dry clothes, which she finally does. I try to fix the sink, unsuccessfully and end up getting just as wet as the old woman. I go downstairs, soaking wet, and tell Eddie to call the manager, which he does.
 
Plumber comes in about 10 minutes. The woman is dry but still shaking. I’m hoping the she doesn’t have a heart attack and die right in front of me. I really don’t want her to die in front of me.
 
Turns out the old woman has a cat. The cat, is sitting on one of the easy chairs and seriously looks like it doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what’s going on in the kitchen. I kinda like that cat now.
 
But anyway, the plumber’s there so if the old woman dies, it’s his problem.
 
I go outside and have a cigarette. 2, in fact.
 
Later Eddie, the fucker, asks me if the old woman looked hot when she was all wet. That question seriously made the skin on my balls shrivel up.