Ugh. I can't figure out the archives on this thing, so it's quite possible that some of my wit and wisdom may be lost forever. If anyone knows what I'm doing wrong, drop me a line.

Feh

Anyway, this story may amuse you. Last week, as you may or may not know, sucked. Possible jobs saw probable rejections, possible ladyfriend saw definite rejection. By Wednesday, I was ready to spend the rest of the week in bed, and thanks to an ass-kicking cold, I nearly did. The one bright spot, however, was my mother calling me to tell me that my cousin Joe has a writing connection out in Hollywood and that he would be willing to hook me up. Yipee.

So I spend the last six days or so attempting to raise Cousin Joe (sounds like something out of Rawhide) on the tel-e-phone, and finally manage to connect with him tonight. The conversation goes something like this:

CUZ'N JOE: Oh, Patrick! Good to hear from you. I'm sorry I didn't get back to you, but I was trying to get my friend Brad to contact you directly.

ME: That's okay. I figured you were busy. So what can you tell me about this Brad guy?

JOE: Well, he does rigs for shows, mostly conventions. He has a company where they set up all the lights and--

ME: Wait, you mean he does lighting?

JOE: Yes. Technical lighting. I mentioned that to your mother and--

ME: No, no... "Writing," Joe. Writing.

And so ends another misadventure with the phone company and my mother's hearing. I can't exactly blame her; she was only trying to help. And it wasn't a complete loss, Joe's father Pat, who I'm named for, actually has connections in technical writing, so we'll see how that pans out.