And you thought I’d never post again.
See, it really is sucky, crappy WordPress that has me down. I can’t work with it and be happy. It’s too busy, too SOMETHING. I just don’t like it. So for shits and giggles, I started a new blog with one post (not very wordy) on Tumblr. The URL is:
See? Easier already. I can be Tangodiva again, which I have always been online. I don’t want to be Tanyadiva, but WordPress took my Tangodivaness away from me!
Anyway, the work week has been majorly arsey. I know spellcheck, that isn’t a word. Too bad. You know, this week, one of the few nice people who ever walked through the hallowed halls of the big box bookstore came right up and said, “I really need a good book to read. I liked the Stieg Larsson books a lot (Insert my gag reflex here) but I also liked the blerghy blergh blergh (I started zoning out at this point. He was nice, but pretending I care when I knew where this was going was useless.) But miss, what I really want to know is, what do YOU RECOMMEND???”
HA! The most asked question after “ou est les toilettes?” Listen, these turdlets don’t care what we like to read, they don’t want to know what we recommend, they don’t want to know what the last good book we read was. They just want to know what the OTHER great unwashed like. What the book clubs are demanding they read. And what Oprah approves. Although not so much that anymore.
So, I did a test on this nice, albeit dim, guy. I got him the latest book by Jo Nesbo, another Scandinavian crime novel called The Snowman. Ho hum. Then, I got him the new collection of short stories by E.L.Doctorow, and told him this was one of my favorite writers (he actually is — I’ve read all his books, and even wrote some pretty intense analysis on him in college. See how far it’s gotten me in life?) and also mentioned two of his books had been made into movies (but this dude had no fucking clue, and he was my age).
What do you think he picked? In all fairness, he at least pretended to consider. And to keep our customer/client relationship alive, I pretended to care.
That’s how I roll.