I hav recently lernd 2 grammr. Hire me!
Mood:  accident prone

Christmas is upon us, dearest Groveapudlians.  Time to reflect on the past year, from Jerry Springer to Public Enemies to Pope Joan, and look ahead to what lies in store for 2010.  So far, all we can count on are animated owls, and the possibility of a good orphan drama.  But we're a tough, gritty, determined bunch, we Daisy fans, and we can wait patiently for our next fix without drumming our heels on the floor and forgetting to use our indoor voices.  (Much.)

So, I spent a little time job hunting at the end of October, because the working-two-states-away thing was getting very old (as was my car).  While I was filling out job applications online, my stupid-ass computer kept hiccuping and and sending them out mid-edit.  I'm sure prospective employers were very impressed with my "atention to detai" and "excellent written and verbal communication skulls".

Despite my totally unawesome internetting skullz, I found a consulting gig last week with the E-commerce team of a large mail-order clothing company headquartered here in Maine.  (We'll call it L.L. Dean to protect its delicate identity from the evil, remorseless gaze of Google.)  The job involves maintaining and testing their website, which changes every day as new promotions and products get added.  Links and HTML tags have to be checked, copy verified, and payments handled.  Essentially, in the course of probing for defects, we get paid to sit around and shop.  I pretend to buy tote bags with fake credit card numbers (though I have to remember to cancel the transactions, otherwise they actually go through and a kayak arrives on my doorstep a week later).

Our department is right next to Product Testing, so we can see all the clothes and outdoor gear being auditioned for upcoming seasons.  There's an entire room devoted just to duck boots, and trash barrels full of fabric swatches, and people walking around in really odd getups, like bike shorts and fleece slippers.  Snowshoes, ice skates and skis litter the hallways.

Interestingly, there's a lady in my department named Mary Whelan.  That name seems somehow...familiar.  I'm wondering when the acoustical ceiling tile will cave in above her desk.

But let's get on to the real topic of this post.  I've been reading up lately on handicap theory, which is an evolutionary biological principle that states that deliberately taking on handicapping characteristics actually makes one more attractive to potential mates.  No, not the sort of handicap that makes you email dopey half-baked misspelled resumes to potential employers, but physical characteristics that signal "I have health and vigor to burn!".  For example, the tail of the male peacock is useless, unaerodynamic, and nutrionally costly to grow and maintain, but it advertises the health of the peacock to all the peahens.  Examples in the human realm would be things like tattoos, smoking, and motorcycle riding, all of which say "I'm strong enough that this stuff doesn't kill me!"  For females, very short hair and wearing men's clothing work similarly.  In order to get away with these, one has to have sexiness to spare.  (I think this is one reason why guys like it when girlfriends wear their shirts around the apartment).  Same for men who cook or use moisturizer:  rather than dealing a fatal blow of insta-gayness, it makes them that much more attractive.

This, I think, is key to why so many of us love David.  He can don a bridal gown, or coke-bottle glasses, or horrible jeans and a mullet; he can smear cream bun on the tip of his nose; yet his awesomeness overcomes these handicaps and makes him all the more more endearing.  When playing hapless or dorky characters, he can afford not to take himself too seriously.  He's got fabulousness to spare.  Maybe that's what makes a great actor: character quirks don't stick to them.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to raze my hair into stubble and get  forearm tattoos.  This will signal to my new employers, "I've got corporate dress style to spare!" and they'll promote me.  I want to be the person who walks around in bike shorts and fleece slippers.