Yes, folks, Ferris Bueller's Day Off is on TV. An excellent end to my Last Day of Freedom. I haven't worked a day since the end of last June. Isn't that sick? I spent the day looking at apartments, checking out furniture, looking at electronics and generally being an all-around responsible person. I called to check in with my new workplace, half-expecting them to say, "Ooh... sorry, we realized last week that we don't actually need you..." because this whole thing seems so surreal that I'm finally going to do something I love. Instead, I found that they sounded almost as excited to have me there as I am to be there. But I seriously doubt that they're more excited than I am, since I'm pretty damn excited. I'm so excited that I think I'd give everyone in that office a hug if there weren't a chance that it could be construed as sexual harassment. Some of you have asked what the Dream Job is, and now that it's landed, I can safely say what I'll be doing. I'm going to be a fry cook on Venus. (Dammit, time to turn off Ferris Bueller.) Actually, I'm going to be an assistant editor at a magazine that deals with the recording and broadcasting industries. This combines my loves of music, radio and writing all in one place. Can you see now why I consider this the Dream Job?

Speaking of the recording industry, the RIAA came out today with figures that says that music sales declined last year. They're blaming Napster and the proliferation of recordable CDs and CD burners. Has anyone thought to blame the fact that the record labels put out rather bad music last year and no one wanted to buy it?