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But wait, there's more.
There's just no polite way to say "Buy me things", is there?
Need a band name?
rant is where the heart is
entry for 2004-04-16 (14:58)
In which our plucky young hero just feels like kicking himself.
Dammit dammit dammit.
After hearing another Toronto person talk about all the volunteer shifts they signed up for at the documentary festival, it occurred to me that it's getting really close to go-time and I still hadn't seen any mail land in my Hot Docs folder about an orientation meeting, volunteer signup, anything like that.
So today, I decided I would go down to the festival office and ask what was up. But first, I went through my junk mail folder, my Bayesian-filtered automagic junk mail folder, the home of the mystical genie who automatically identifies junk and spirits it away from my eyes. The folder where legitimate email should never, ever, ever appear because I have taken it for granted over the past several months that everything there is garbage I don't even need to waste time on. The folder where the initial announcement of the call for volunteers, and the followup reminding me about the orientation meeting, and the final reminder about the orientation meeting, all resided.
Dammit dammit dammit!
The secret word for fifteen damn days ago, when the orientation meetings took place and I would have known this if I had ever even seen those emails, is "false positive".
I guess this year I'm not going to be tearing tickets after all.(Browse: previous or next. Notes: post or read.)
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