Go! Move! Shift!

Sooner or later I'm going to start a database of song lyrics, snippets that I'm fond of, so I don't have to start every entry out by staring blankly at the 'Subject' field and wondering what the hell goes in there this time.
So I finally gave up and, tonight while I was utterly unable to access my own page, accessed the main page and told PayPal to give these nice people $20. God knows they've earned it--78 entries and five and a half months later... So soon I will have access to those ultracool superfast servers they talk about in the Maintenance updates. Yay me. I suppose this means that I'll also have a journal page accessible here but I'm not positive about that.
Anyway. The reason I spent... two hours trying to get here. The interview. I did get the stupid application thingie filled out before I left, and Cindy brought over my purse. Which the 'mate keeps reminding me is not in fact a purse but a 'Hyper Masculine Para Military Canvas Storage Unit' or HMPMCSU for short. Regardless, it meant I could now lock my bike up when I went to interview.
I got all dressed up in a 'look for work' costume and rode the light rail down to Capitol Expressway to where the San Jose Enterprise Fleet Services Office is. In the middle of Car Ghetto. I shit you not, it's like two or three miles of nothing but car lots, glass works, ten minute oil lube and God knows what all else goes into Stuff That Gets Sold to People Who Have Cars. Which of course made me think of the Subject Song since the 'shift' has absolutely nothing to do with cars and so of course stuck in my head. And nobody asked me if I had a license, so that's a good sign too.
Things went well--we smiled a lot and Said All The Right Things that one says in an interview. She's interviewing people on Thursday and maybe Friday, but within a week I should have some solid news on the position.
Then I made it home and it was three thirty and my day was more or less done. I watched the 'mate obsess over Neil's LARP (there is now officially no escape for me) and then she left to go gaming and I finally got to see My Life in Pink and I cried a lot (but these days I cry at soap adverts) and thought about a friend who's trying to go through gender-identification issues.
And two hours later, here I am. And my life is rounded by a little sleep.

Ain't it great when things are goin' your way?

Okay. Just got back from 'The Others'. Apparently Tom and Nicole are getting on well enough to make movies together--he's on the production end of this film. And if it hasn't been spoiled for you already, go see it. It's got one of those 'The Fallen' style plotlines. Plus all three trailers I saw kicked ass, so I'm mighty stoked. The Musketeer, Count of Monte Cristo and whatever the hell the next John Cusak film is--I'm there on a triple play. The first two also fired me up for this (either Victorian or Elizabethan) Secret Agent game that's been lurking in the back of my head for the past few weeks. James Bond and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen or Christopher Marlowe. Mmmm.
But. I didn't come here to tell you that story. I told you that story to tell you this story.
There is something I like to call the 'Living Room Phenomenon'. This is some brain injury that causes people to threat the WHOLE FREAKING WORLD as if it was their living room at home. Concerts, theatres, cinemas... especially cinemas. The lights go down, and that giant glowing television turns on, and suddenly the whole damn arena turns into a giant sofa. At today's particular showing, to choose a more atrocious than usual example, people tromped (not walked. tromped) up and down the aisles throughout the film. People dashed back and forth and shouted in the back hall. People chatted with each other in their seats. And, I swear to God, I counted eight different rings including the Entertainer, Bach and the Pac-Man theme on various and sundry cel phones. Many of them tromped down the aisle to take their calls outside, but at least one person took the call in their seat.
What possesses these people? What are they *thinking*? What possible thought processes could be going through their brains to convince them 'hey. This is perfectly acceptible behaviour.'
If you have any ideas, shout them out.