I've never actually seen an episode of "American Idol." So I decided to unwind with a beer and watch the season premiere tonight. It's one of the funniest fucking things I've ever seen. My uncle used to be Simon Cowell's manager. I bet he's kicking himself now! Um. But god, what a fucking riot. Where do they find these people? I think my brain just fell out of my head.

Also, there's apparently some kind of political event going on tonight. I couldn't make it back to my home state, so I'm countring on my Iowa-registered friends and family to fight the good fight and caucus for Clinton. He's running again, right? Right?

Today was my first day of work. I spent the first half of it learning how to assemble signs and the second half driving the company truck around to various assignments with my boss. One of them was a bank where we had to install some signs. The place was closed because of MLK Day, but one of the managers let us in. He immediately began talking with alarming candor about his pending divorce. Right now he's "fucking with" his soon-to-be ex-wife. "It's all about mind games," he informed us. "It doesn't matter what I say or do until we get to court. Then it's up to the judge. But for right now it's all about manipulating shit. So I'm going to fuck with her as much as I can." When we went into his office he showed us the inflatable woman he'd been given for his birthday. So whenever I'm feeling like an insensitive chauvanist pig, I just have to remember it could be much, much worse.

As much as I enjoyed chauffeuring my supervisor all over the northwest side (and dropping him off at his home in Evanston), I preferred working in the shop with my two co-workers, both recent hires about my own age. We're on our own most of the day, which means we get to listen CDs (today: the Kinks, then The Love Below). Then we swtiched on WXRT. They played some semi-classics I'd forgotten about, including "Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town". When it started playing, I got a little choked up. I've been having moments like that lately, startling myself. Then I had one of those "how did I get here?" moments, wondering if it should strike me as absurd that three kids in their late twenties are making vinyl and aluminum signage for corporations while listening to alternarock that was popular when they were juniors in high school.

The cat is spazzing out. She's in heat, I think. Jason says we need to get her "fixed." What does he mean? Like, buy her some hot kitty porn? Set her up on Friendster? She's pouncing at the walls, her tail, and my iPod like they're sinister alien forces. Unfortunately for her, they are not horny male cats.

Favorite album right now: Cast Of Thousands by Elbow. Go out and get it, now. I've already downloaded it, but I'm probably going to buy it anyway. It's that good.

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