Jason Cosper

Blog

  • What’s A Pederast, Walter?

    Why do 13 year old indie girls from Los Angeles have the screen name for my Sidekick? I know it’s public record and all, but normally the people who use it are the sort of people who I want having it. Maybe I should consider making it unpublic…

    Furthermore, why do said 13 year old girls say “maybe. just let me see yr myspace.” when I tell them that I’m 28 and ask if that might be a bit too old for them? Because I don’t care what they say about grass on the playing field — I’m not down with getting busted in some sort of a Dateline sting.

  • Clean Sheets

    It’s too hot out to have flannel sheets on my bed — but for some reason, I do.

    I was thinking about putting the bamboo ones on the bed when I realized that the pillowcases are on the pillows I keep in my car. Seeing as how I probably won’t need those anytime soon, I should probably bring them inside the house and wash them. *sigh*

  • She Took The Midnight Train Goin’ Anywhere

    What sort of karaoke joint manages to have stuff by Journey without having “Don’t Stop Believing” or “Separate Ways” in their book of available songs?

    Despite having a fantastic time drinking and partying with my awesome new coworkers at City Cat Karaoke Studio last night, that one thing still sort of bugs me this afternoon. *sigh* Oh well.

  • Mimicry

    It may be dark outside — well, as dark as it can get in the suburbs — but there’s a chirping bird outside my window. And it almost sounds like a car alarm being armed.

    I wonder what that sound means in bird speak…

  • All Up In Your Nameplate

    Despite working a handful of desk jobs over the past 7+ years, when my coworker set my nameplate on my desk today, I felt like I’d finally found my way to my first real grown-up job.

    Shortly thereafter, I played a celebratory round of Super Puzzle Figher on the office MAME cabinet… ;)

  • Cause And Effect

    Because I went to go get Chicago dogs with the guys at work, my insides are totally hating on me now.

    How can something that tastes so good hurt that much? It’s just not fair…

  • Perfect

    What the fuck is wrong with me?

    I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. I lie. To everyone. Tiny, intricate white lies that pile on top of one another until they fall over and crush me. Since I’ve never been one for being crushed, it’s time to start coming clean…

    I’m 28 years old and I live at home with my folks. I always have. I’ve never lived anywhere else save for the room that my brother and I shared until he moved out at 17. I’ve never had any sort of roommate other than him. I probably could have afforded to eek out a pretty shitty existence in a tiny studio apartment eating ramen for the past couple years, but that never sounded all that appealing. Before that I’d had enough amassed enough debt that I couldn’t manage to even think about doing anything like that.

    Thru all of this, my folks have been wonderful and understanding — but I know I need to get out there and be an adult. Other than the past 9 months worth of car payments and insurance, I don’t think I have an ounce of adult responsibility in me. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s not good.

    Some of you already know this. But almost everyone I’ve met in the past few years has been fed a mistruth when my living situation comes up for discussion. I tell people that I lived on my own for a bit, but I moved home to help with my mom after she came out of the hospital. This way, I come off like the good son instead of the loser who has been too afraid and broke to leave the nest. Sometimes the lie changed a tiny bit to suit the audience, but for the most part, that was it.

    [To keep myself from sounding too horrible, my mom did go into the hospital a few years back. And when she got out, I was here to help her recover — but I never moved back like I said I had. I’m not a monster, honest.]

    So for those of you who I told this to, I’m sorry. Please forgive me for not being able to man up and tell you about my situation. I know in a lot of cases, it’s not that big of a deal. But in one case, it may have cost me the trust and love of the only girl who has ever managed to love me as much as I love her.

    I’d get into it more, but I really don’t have the strength or the will to write another word about it. I’m running on autopilot at this point. Besides, it’s a private issue for the most part. I just figured that if I was going to come clean with her, I may as well come clean with you guys too.

    I’m sorry Sarah. I’m sorry everyone. If you feel like you can’t trust me anymore, I understand.

    It looks like my insecurities have gotten the better of me yet again. And while I know that it’s easier said than done, it’s time to shed those insecurities and grow up. It’s time for me to be a man.

  • Let’s Post It Out, Bitch

    Summer TV can be sort of abysmal, so I’m really glad Entourage is back. Between OnDemand and reruns, I must have watched the first two seasons at least six times each since the show went into hibernation for the winter back in September of last year.

    Since I know that I only have a few months worth of new Ari Gold related dicketry and Johnny Drama/Turtle insults to soak up, I’m going to appreciate them while I have the chance. I’ve already watched last week’s season opener four times in the last week. And I’m sure I’ll throw tonight’s episode on a few times over the course of this next week.

    What can I say? I’m sort of addicted.

    Now that I’ve got that all of that gushing bullshit out of the way, how much of this season are we going to blow on Aquaman? I mean, not that it matters or anything — I just want to find out what the fuck happened with Queens Boulevard. And if they could let us know how the whole Turtle managing Saigon thing is going too, that’d be sort of nice…

  • And Then I Found A Job

    After looking for a job for damn near 3 months, I’m happy to report that I’ve been offered — and tentatively accepted — a position with DreamHost.

    I say tentatively because I’m still waiting on an offer letter from a colocation facility up in Los Angeles which I interviewed at a few weeks ago. It’s supposed to be in my inbox sometime tomorrow — but I’m not going to do much more than consider it unless they manage to do better than the proposal I was given this afternoon.

    To be perfectly honest, this couldn’t have come at a better time. Despite saving up for such a scenario, both my former employer and the EDD have given me the runaround on collecting unemployment. And what I mean by the runaround is that I haven’t managed to collect a cent of it since I filed for it months ago.

    I was very fortunate that I saved what I could before I was let go — which wasn’t very much I might add — and could pare back my expenses to live off of it for two months before I had to beg and take temp jobs. Also having a lovely girlfriend who was extremely understanding about having to cut back on what I could spend when I came out to see her was rather helpful. Even if it meant taking the occasional weekend off from one another and cutting back on our entertainment budget, she was a total trooper.

    Not a lot of girls are willing to deal with spending a lot of time watching bad cable TV and DVDs with their recently unemployed, long distance beau whenever they do manage to get a weekend together — especially if they haven’t been dating for all that long. Despite all that, I’d be willing to say that spending all that time together cuddled up and making fun of the crap we watched between loving on one another probably managed to bring us closer together. *shrug* The heart works in mysterious ways, right?

    But I digress… As of next Tuesday, I’ll be amongst the gainfully employed again. I’m hella excited at the opportunity I’ve been given — but to be perfectly honest, as jazzed as I am about the job, I’m just as excited that I’m going to be doing my job from a proper Apple workstation. Yeah, I’m going to have a company issued Mac on my desk. And while I don’t really need one to do what they’re hiring me for, they just wanted to make sure that I was working with an OS that I was comfortable with.

    Man, I can tell that I’m already going to like working here…

  • Good Weekend

    I compelled to do a proper post about the weekend Sarah and I had — but everything I’ve written down doesn’t seem to do it justice. Instead, I’m just going to borrow from my gal’s playbook and do a stream of consciousness type list of some of my favorite memories from our weekend together…

    • Walking into A New Hue1 to find my girl rocking the red hair.
    • Bringing Sarah home to meet my folks.
    • Three Words: Raspberry almond cake.
    • Having beers at Rob and Lisey‘s place.
    • Heading back to my parent’s place for breakfast burritos.
    • Getting a nod and a thumbs up from my mom as we left my folks’ house.
    • Going to the Cabrillo Marine Aquarium.
    • Jellies!
    • Being told, “You know, I’d really have no problem moving here to be with you.”
    • Snacking on appetizers at Mao’s.
    • Wading into the ocean barefoot at Venice Beach2 while holding hands.
    • Talking about marriage and kids with neither Sarah or I freaking out.
    • Distracting a pack of zombie seagulls with kettle corn to make a daring escape.
    • Fatburger!
    • Getting to play with a MacBook.
    • Being given a personal check for “services rendered”.

    I’m sure that a lot of this makes no sense when it’s disembodied and taken out of the context of our weekend, but I sort of don’t care… It means a whole bunch to Sarah and I — and that’s really all that matters to me right now.

    What can I say? That girl is my universe, yo.

    1. Warning: Comic Sans ahoy!
    2. I might have hepatitis now, but it was totally worth it for the moment we shared.