Wow, my 500th post. If this was a TV show, you'd be watching the cast cutting an enormous cake while the credits rolled right now. I've always wondered if there was enough cake for the audience to have a piece too. But the credits never rolled long enough for me to find out.

So this is not a TV show. It is just my blog. Read by an audience of less than 10, but more like 4. So thanks for being here. If i had cake, there would be enough for y'all.

There's so much I want to write about tonight, to get out of my system. But it's really hard for me to expose myself on a blog such as this. Also the reason why this is not a TV show. Though, some of the things that go on in my head makes for good TV. At least I think so. And you've been privy to it. Just read the archives.

Instead, I'll write about something I just thought of at this moment. Something I'm slapping my hand to my forehead for doing. Or rather, not doing. My friend steven moved away today. We've been trying to get together before he left, but it just didn't happen. I told myself to call him today, and the day happened and I totally forgot. And now he's gone. He's such a great guy and we've just kinda lost touch in the past year or so, but there were always the occasional emails or calls. We shared a love for pie and the bookstore. He had an infectious smile and bought shirts he never wore. He was one of the first friends I made when I came out here. Steven, I know you don't read this, but I'm sorry I'm such a bonehead. I'll miss you.

This month in my Working Mother magazine:

Get over your guilt: Why it's time to let go.

as well as

Catch it early: Is your daughter anorexic?


Egads. It's tough being a working mom.

It's beginning to get cold. Yesterday was the first day of fall, and what a beautiful day it was (or so it seemed from our 16th story windows). I love this time of year. I'm getting ready for my heavy blanket, warm sweaters, and hot soupy ramen noodles. (Ok, who am i kidding, i eat that stuff year round. But it tastes better when its cold.)

Speaking of marshmallows: Mallomars. H introduced me to them at the C a few years ago, when she came back from her trip to NY. Back then, I ate in wonder at this cookie that was so befitting of me. So I took another. And another. I've recently forgotten about them until about a week ago. And suddenly I'm having this craving. I don't know why they only sell these on the east coast. Maybe the warmer weather here makes for unsatisfactory marshmallow conditions? But still. There's ways around it. I know you can get them online, but I need a local store where I can just walk in any day and get my fix. I told H about my craving, and that it was her fault because she introduced them to me, like some sort of drug pusher doing business. She laughed and said her mom will send some. Oh happiness. I cannot wait. Next time I go to the east coast, I will leave as myself, but return as a mule...A MULE OF MALLOMARS. muahahaha.

Now the thing I'm not sure about is whether they're all over the east coast, or just in NYC, where H got them, or maybe in select states of the west coast as well? Would they be available in Dallas? Chicago? Seattle? Miami? Beuller? Beuller? I need to do some more research, but your help is kindly appreciated.

Anyone know where I can find a mini skulls and bones patch?

I have a hole in my shoes. My very simple, black canvas flats that I got from target 2 years ago. The left shoe has a hole right where my pinky toe is, so very often, my pinky likes to peep out for some sun. I really like these simple shoes and I don't think its quite their time to go yet. But at the same time, everyone also likes to point out that i have a hole in my shoe, plus its probably not work appropriate now with the hole. Many have already told me, "Those are very basic shoes, I bet you can find them anywhere." Wrong people, wrong! I cannot find them anywhere. They were so last last season.

Which is why I think a mini patch would do just the trick. But it can't be any patch. It has to be the right patch. It has to be skull and bones.

I was just at the grocery store, where this lady approached me out of nowhere, and asked me if I would like to get my fortune read, as she had picked up good energy from me. Now, she wasn't just soliciting everyone, she was actually grocery shopping with what seemed like her mother, and while she waited for her mother, I happened to walk by her, and that's when she asked me. I said no thank you, though as i walked away i wondered if she really did pick up good energy, or if it was just some pickup line she uses on all her potential clients? And, if i didn't possess this so called "good energy," would she still have wanted to read my fortune? Who knows.

Lately, I've been wondering about the outside life. As in, life outside the entertainment industry. I'm always curious as to how people outside of this industry spend their weekends, or in their spare time. Aside from the regular 9-5 job, it seems like everyone in LA always has some project they're working on. Whether its their latest script, that short film to edit, preparation for the next short, acting class, band practice, orchestra rehearsal, singing lessons, dance class....on and on and on. Like today, I drove by these three kids (ok, not kids, they're like my age) on the sidewalk, with a very fancy camera in hand, probably shooting some comedy. They're working on a sunday, like most of us do. So, let's say I was a dentist in Kentucky. Imagine all the free time I'd have on the weekends!

No no, I take that back, I guess its not true. I guess it's not just us here in this industry, everyone has some sort of side project they're perpetually working on. Takes away from the lull of the work week, I guess. I don't know what I was thinking.

I guess I was just thinking about how nice it would be to lounge around on the weekends and do whatever I want. And yes, I'm free to do that. In fact, from time to time, i DO do that. But how nice would it be to be able to do that without having this constant nagging feeling in the back of my head telling me: what are you doing lounging about when you have x, y, z to do??? But that probably goes for everyone, eh?

I'm giving myself 15 min. of blog time before i set off to engulf myself in a few hours of work.

I don't know what it is with me and cravings. When I crave something, I must have it right away. I crave lemon bars, so I make them. I had the sudden urge to watch this movie I loaned to a friend, so I had him bring it back. I had a craving for pho, so I had pho. If i have an idea for an art project, I must start it right away, even though its 10pm and all the supply stores are closed. I guess I just need instant gratification?

This morning, I got out of my car and saw a couple walking towards me, holding hands. I suddenly had an urge to have my hand held. Whenever I read people write about this or that "wave" of something "washing over them," I always think, yes yes yes, blah blah blah you crazy writer, just get to the point. Ok, now I get the point. I apologize to all crazy writers with waves. This morning when I saw the couple, I felt the "wave" of something "wash over me." It was a longing to have my hand held, nothing more, nothing less. I could've just walked up to them, and put my hand into his, or hers. But then that would've been weird, right?

Currently: sudden case of the sniffles.

Just had to get up and get a tissue after that sentence. Hopefully these sniffles are just on holiday in my nose, and will be on their merry way again soon. Hopefully by tomorrow. By the time i wake up. You hear that sniffles!!

The apartment is in a state of shambles from a week of neglect, and a prior week's full of stuff in preparation for a shower. Stuff will hopefully be returned to their proper origins this weekend.

I received a phone book in front of my door two days ago. Came at a weird time since C had just recently asked, "Who uses phone books anymore when there's the internet?" To which I replied, "Lots of people! Especially for businesses, like when you're at the dentist and you want a pizza..." Shortly thereafter, I realized that perhaps not many people have the sudden urge to order pizza when they're at the dentist. They're most likely to do so when they get home.

So fast forward a week, and I get this phone book on my door step. One with the same information I can get on google. One that, along with its brothers and sisters, could have saved an entire forest of trees. So I'm left with a dilemma. Trash the freshly printed, unopened, still-in-plastic-bag (again! useless packaging!), already-killed-a-tree book that I'm never going to use again? Or keep it around so at least this already made useless thing of a book can feel like it had some sort of purpose? Perhaps I'll have small guests over someday that will need to sit on one. Perhaps my world will befall on some disaster where the only way to keep warm will be to burn things. Or my internet will be down one day and I'll really need to order pizza. Actually, no, I never order pizza. Sigh, what to do?

After throwing this bridal shower, I've come to the realization that I may turn out to be one of those evil brides if I ever plan my own wedding. I was easily agitated, tired from running to this store and that store, and stressed out all week. The pimples on my face are still around, laughing in my face...that is, MY face, that surface which they are currently so attached to, and have been all week. Thus, no wedding. Simple!

Over the weekend I had my first encounter of: "When's it your turn?" Ugh. I wanted to punch him. But it came from my older cousin. So I wouldn't have gotten away with it. Had to do the polite, haha-laugh-it-off bit. I feel as though that will get old real soon. Reeeeeal soon. As in, it's already old. Puh-lease. Just save me from kicking you in the face, and don't ask me such questions.

Oh orchestra...how I love thee. Let me count the ways....

1. no outwardly annoying types yet.
2. awesome music, challenging, yet playable.
3. i love my violin
4. all that counting and paying attention really works my brain. in a good way. and you know how hard it is to work my brain...

*Correction on previous post: I'm 26, not 25. Shit. I'm already slipping.

I'm not a competitor by any means. But when it comes to certain things, especially things that don't really matter, I find myself competing even when my competitors aren't the least aware that we're competition. I guess in this way (this way as in, the they-don't-know-we're-in-competition way), I've got a leg up! Today I found myself thinking about this girl I went to HS with, thinking about everything she accomplished in school, and gee golly, look at her now. I started comparing all the things that shes done, and all the things that i've done, even though- we don't talk to each other. I have no idea what goes on in her life. And vice versa. And I find myself competing and comparing secretly with people all the time. "She has nicer hair, but at least I have bangs. Ha! Take that, girl on the street I'll never meet!" And so on.

What is that all about?

I just need to chill out and remember that my life is pretty darn good. I always forget that. Why is that so easily forgotten? Especially in this world of drunk driving, jail, rehab, and bombed comebacks (sorry, just had to add that), the life I have is pretty darn good. In my 25 years I haven't been to jail yet (though, knock on wood and wait til i get this unending traffic violation resolved...), the only drug i'm currently doped up on is Nyquil (knocks you out, wake up refreshed!), and and...wait for it wait for it......

And i've got my bangs.

So...really. Life is good.

Anyway, this wasn't meant to be a preachy blog. I just found my mind drifting about this person or that person and comparing myself to them that I needed to take this time and reassure and remind myself of my awesome-ness.

Therefore, dear reader. Please please please take this moment to think of three reasons why you're awesome as well. Put it in my comments so everyone else can see, because everyone should. I promise I won't compare my awesomeness to yours.



Really, you're just cheating yourself and the world if you don't do this. Besides, nobody reads this blog except for you anyways. ;-)

Conversation recently heard though my open window:

Guy 1: ...that girl? She's a married woman!
Guy 2: Dood! Did you ask her out?
Guy 1: Yea!


Didn't get to hear the rest of the conversation. The things I hear with the window open. People also like to sing as they walk by my window. Sometimes they're good. Mostly they're not.

Thank goodness for nyquil.

Currently: Pondering going out for ice cream, but that would mean getting dressed. Been holed up in the apt all day, scantily clad, joined by a broken AC and one small fan. Nonetheless, I still got alot accomplished. Of course, not as much as I wanted, but still has been a productive day. Debating whether to take another shower before bed. In the background: bad weight loss reality TV, not even the good one. Can't stand it, so lame, will turn off. Almost forgot, popsicles in fridge. On top of beer. Beer: cold. Me: hot. Apt: oven. Can't complete full sentences...

Yes. Yes I can.

I could go be more productive and hot, or I could just go sit in front of the fan, subject myself to more bad summer tv. Oh boy, the choices.

Bangs have been put away under these circumstances. They could never hack such weather. Ha. Sorry, anonymous, for there will be no pictures of them tonight! I hope you cry yourself to sleep!

Gotta go, beer and popsicle are waiting for me to kill them off. It's gonna be grand.

Bangs.

That's been the topic of conversation this week. I got some bangs last weekend. I don't know that I've ever gotten so many compliments on something before. Who knew? Who knew that if i revert back to my look from freshman year (thats highschool, not college), that I'd get so much positive feed back? In fact, so much that I'm a little bit jealous of the bangs. It's just hair, big deal, why do THEY get so much attention? What about me?? ME ME ME! No one cares about lil' old SH now that new bangs are in town.

SH made dinner!
Who cares, let's look at her bangs.

SH had to stay at work late.
But how are the bangs holding up to the stress?

SH banged (no pun intended) her head on the low tree branch.
Are the bangs OK??

SH is down on the ground crying in pain.
Stop writhing so much SH, we can't see the bangs.


Sigh.
"With great bangs come great responsibility. It is only to be used for Good, and big foreheads. Nothing else." - a wise dood


That's it for this post. Next post, I will attempt sarcasm.

So the other day i was in the grove parking lot, circling around, trying to find parking. I finally followed a lady who was going to her car, only to turn the corner, and see that another car was waiting in the vicinity.

Now what are the rules on parking spots? Do I get it because I followed her? Or do they get it because they're waiting right next to where she parked?

In any case, had it been a family of 3 or more, or even a cute looking couple, I would've just let them have it without giving it a second thought (even though i'd been circling around and around for a while). Instead....it was a white top down bmw. With two girls in it. Two 18-ish rich snobby girls who were dressed like they looked snobby. And while the lady pulled out, it was me vs. them. And they won. They took the spot. Partly because I'm a pushover, and partly because there's two of their snobby little asses, and I was only one. And yes, even in their short shorts and long hair, the two of them could've kicked my ass. Ugh. I hate these situations. i know this is prejudiced, but i hate when priviliged people get what they want. It's like they won. And I hate it when they win.

I wish i could've pulled a Kathy Bates ala Fried Green Tomatoes. In fact, while we waited for the lady to pull out, during the minutes when there was a staring show down between me and the girls, I thought about pulling the Kathy Bates. But...again, two of them, one of me. And I'm not as old as Kathy Bates was in the movie, I don't know that I'm more insured than the girls.

Ugh, things like this piss me off. Especially when I pass by the same girls in my cirlcle around the parking lot for the Xth time, who now have gotten out of their BMW and is now putting their designer sunglasses on and tossing their gucci bags over their shoulders.

What is a girl to do? Nothing. Keep looking for the next empty spot.

Just finished up adding some ram to my computer. I feel like such a cool nerd. Hooray for ram!!

Word of the night: Offen Bach. Not sometimes Bach. But Offen Bach. hahahahahahha. awesome.

So, final word on HSM. You should definitely see it......................IF you are between the ages of 5 and 12! If you don't fall between that...or within a year or two, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT touch it with a ten foot pole. And this is coming from someone who often acts as though she is between the ages of 5 and 12 (but...more like a mature 13). I'll let the teeny bops have Zack Efron. I've got bigger fish to fry.

Mmm...fish........fried.........

Whoa whoa.

Why didn't anyone inform me?? Apparently, I'm a working mom. Today I received the Aug/Sept issue of Working Mothers. It wasn't even a mistake, it had my full name and address printed on it and everything. Geez, time flies. Suddenly I'm getting married, having kids, and working on m career all at the same time, without knowing it. I wonder if my kids resent me for working a full time job? I know my dead plants do. Muahahaha.

Haven't had time to flip through it yet, but it IS the back to school issue. That's huge for moms, isn't it?

I wonder if they have any "easy packed lunch" ideas in this issue. I always try to steal those from Good Morning America segments, or random articles on the net around this time of year, and apply them when making my own grown up lunch. Except...these easy lunch ideas always involve some sort of carrot sticks or string cheese combo...both of which I hate. Why can't they ever be: Insert Ho-Ho, snack-sized Flaming Hot Cheetos, V-8 Splash with mini vodka bottle into lunch bag, shake well, serves 1? Easy peasy, ready in 2 minutes.

dammit...suppose to be in bed 1/2 hour ago and i'm still here!! so much for the pep talk...now i'm listening to the rest of the album...AGAIN!

I can't stop listening to sia. I'm in love with her music. I've been meaning to wean off these two albums and move on to something new but I just can't part with such sweetness.

Tonight I'm going to bed early. Currently listening to sia's "I Go To Sleep" for inspiration, and as a pre-bed pep talk. Tired. Tired. But so many potentially exciting projects in queue! I want to start immediately. But I must go to sleep. Better to start fresh. Ugh, but its hot. Speaking of queue, High School Musical is off of mine, as an email told me it has shipped, and will be here tomorrow. Oh, the anticipation. I will need some privacy this weekend (if not sooner) to be alone with this disc. If you don't hear from me, I'm probably unavoidably entertained by said disc. Check in to find out!

I don't know what it is, but I do not want to go to bed! I'm tired and sleepy...but the idea of bed right now seems so anticlimatic to yet another anticlimatic day. Maybe its the august heat. I'm parched as a fish. But I guess fish don't get thirsty. I'm parched as a piece of parchment. The kind that makes the scratchy noises when you write on it with a feather ink pen. Kinda antsy too. Already thinking about my cup of coffee tomorrow morning. Geez, that's such an addict thing to do.

Yesterday I saw ugly betty at whole foods in the fruit section. I should've taken a picture of her and sent it off to US WEEKLY with the headlines "Celebrities: They eat fruit like the rest of us!" I was eyeing her from the mangoes when I realized, I don't even want to buy mangoes. So I moved over to the nectarines and she walked by me there too! So I started to fruit stalk her. Then I realized, this is silly, I stopped watching the show mid season, I need to stop stalking mid fruit section. As I moved along, I noticed that blonde beach boy 2 of blond beach boy 1 and 2 was doing the same thing I was. He was in no way interested in those lemons. He was just using them to get a good look at her. Just another day in the 'Woods.

Maybe before the summer's over, I'll pull one of those all nighters, where I get to hear the birds chirp and see the sun come up. For now its bed time.

OMG! Why didn't anyone tell me????


The best show I have NOT been watching all summer: So You Think You Can Dance. I caught the finale tonight, and realized that I've missed a great great show. And I thought nothing was on during the summer. Oh sadness, oh woe. But goooo Sabre! (Except that fanning yourself when you cried thing...perhaps you need to work on a new "Oh my god I can't believe I won" reaction.")

And to top it off, I've just added High School Musical to my queue. What has the world come to? But I must find out the intrigue that is behind this so-called Zack Efron. I MUST! Will report back later.

Does anyone listen to Martini Shot?? Man there was a great one tonight, his stories are the stuff great blogs are made of! I only wish I have my own 5 minutes on the radio. The things I would rant about!

Like online dress shopping. Normally I wouldn't do it. But in this situation, I had to. And of course, it doesn't fit quite right. But i guess at least it fits, maybe I can get it tailored.

I would rant about (oh, there goes the neighbor upstairs...tromp tromp tromp...and his little dog too...humph)...well, I guess I would rant about neighbors! But i've already done that.

I'd rant about how orchestra people are usually annoying. We are, we really are. Maybe its because we were all nerds in school. Maybe we're so super intelligent that we don't know how to talk to the common man and have to belittle everyone else because we went to schools like Juliard. Woooo...Juliard. We know everyone else doesn't really care where we went to school, but I guess when we pay so much for it you have to name drop once in a while. (Ok, that's uncalled for, I know. But i am on a roll.) For some reason we ALL feel the need to blurt out stuff to the conductor. "Where where where?" Maybe if we just shut up and paid attention we would've heard what he said the first time. We think our non-sensical jokes are funny when they're not. We feel the need to keep playing and hold everyone else up when the conductor has obviously stopped. And, last but not least, we always feel the need to rush. Fast fast and faster. Those are speeds which we operate on. Go us.

Been doing some wedding type stuff recently. About ready to send out about 30 invites for a bridal shower. This whole process is quite interesting. I WANT to get into it. All the frills and pink and princess ways of thinking and whatnot. Not that it has become a chore because its not and because I've chosen this position, but I just can't seem to get excited about it and get REALLY into it. It's become a task. A task that I will do a kickass job in, but nothing like the thrill of working with a pen and paper, or molding some clay, or heck even editing! I guess it is mine to do what I choose to do, so I should change my attitude, and make it fun and exciting in my own way. But really...the idea of sitting with 30 other women coo-ing over stuff is just well...I'll leave it at that. And what about decorations? I didn't decorate my 2 yr apt, and its taken me months to finish my current bedroom. I don't decorate. I can organize and stack and make things nice and neat, but....to decorate a whole party? oy vey. Off now to lick some envelopes.

What to do??

Ok, i'm posting this to the internet void in hopes that my readers (those who are left) can help me. I have this neighbor, you see. This upstair neighbor. Who...just walks extremely loud. Granted, we all have wood floors. That probably doesn't help much. But still, he walks as though he is 300 pounds. I've never seen him, so maybe he does weigh 300 pounds. But most likely not. Once in a while he drops heavy thing or two or three, and that makes a loud thump. And the thing that annoys me the most...he seems to like to walk over to the part of the floors that creak the most, and enjoy being able to sway back and forth over the creaky floor area.

Ok, no. I'm sure that's not what he's doing, but that's what my imagination is telling my brain. I'm about 70% annoyed, yet 30% curious in what exactly he is doing when I hear these noises. I like to make up things in my head when I don't know the facts.

I've been living with this for months, but haven't exactly been able to get myself to knock on his door. I just can't do it! Help me people! What do i say to this guy? "Hey, stop walking around your apt?" What if he yells at me? What if he retaliates back by walking louder? What if he turns his TV up louder now after midnight? Oy vey. The joy of upstairs neighbors.

Last week, I did something HUGE! I gave blood for the first time ever. I've just always been scared to death of doing it, the needle, the blood (ohhh the blood), the questions...everything. But our building was having a blood drive and I finally decided it was time. And you know what? It was NBD. I was nervous walking in, but by the time I left, I was feeling good, and even got some cookies (and a coupon for a pint of ice cream! Pint for a pint, they call it. Though...apparently 12oz is a pint in California..?). I did feel a bit woozy and tired for the rest of the day, but I think next time I do it, I'll do it towards the end of the day. I didn't cry, I didn't scream, I just looked away and squirmed a little, but here I am, still alive, and probably saved someone's life too. Hooray beer. Hooray ME!

Somehow, watching a movie set in nyc just makes everything better again. Especially when they're about a cute girl realizing she's a lesbian, and then coming out, which is first triggered by kissing her brother's wife on their wedding night.

I should never write movie reviews. "Y'know, the one with that guy from that movie who saves that girl from that show who starred in the movie with her ex-husband's wife." The End.


Today was a crappy day. I can admit it. Crappy crap crap. Nothing in particular or out of the ordinary happened. It was just one of those days. It was beyond one of those days. It was one of those "I need to take a breather and hide in the bathroom for just a sec before I lose it all over ..."nothing." But, it's ok. I've had my dose of nyc, pretty girls in pretty outfits and ballroom dancing, and now, off to bed. Tomorrow is another day.

Upper Dryer Instructions:
1. Make sure there are no small children, pets, or foreign objects in dryer.

Good thing I read instructions...not like those damn kids from jumanji.

Why aren't pretty girls ever happy?

I just passed by this girl on the way out of the laundry room, and smiled at her, tried to be polite and say hello. Beautiful, gorgeous girl, and she just glared. Well ok, she barely looked at me. But she didn't look like she was very happy. And the fact that the likes of me in my laundry gear was even passing by her seemed to piss her off even more. If I looked like I belonged on Dawson's Creek, first of all, I'd be wondering why I wasn't on The Hills instead, but second of all, I'd be happy all the time!

Ok, fine. I'm exaggerating a bit. Her anger probably had nothing to do with me, and I would never want to be on The HIlls. But really, why are all the pretty ones always wearing a scowl with their gucci? Are happy smiley faces soooo last season? Maybe they're not eating enough. If i wasn't eating I'd be angry like them too.

But if I have any power in this world, I'm declaring smiles a thing of the future! It'll be the next IT item. It'll be on every "gotta have it" section in the magazines. By golly, it will be required on every pretty girl in the world!

Oh to play my violin again! All that silent counting in my head. All those flats and sharps. The thrill of playing a measure correctly. Vonnie laughing at my blank stare when everyone else laughed at the conductor's joke. (Tell me you didn't know what he was talking about either vonne, TELL ME!!!) It's all so thrilling. I may even practice before our next rehearsal, that's how pumped I am. I wish I had a button that said "I Heart Orchestra." I wouldn't wear it, but I'd be happy that I have one.


And, WTF is all this with JJ Abram's secret project??? I need to know! I love JJ! Too bad the only time we met, I just happened to be wearing that ugly page uniform. What a waste of a good meet.

Question: What does SH and Al Pacino have in common?

Answer: A love for TARGET.


Possibly? Is it possible that I shop at the same Target as Al Pacino??? Sunday when I was there, I happened to pass by a lady who, with a knowing smirk on her face, ask this very hairy man, "Are you who I think you are?" She said it in a tone as if they were old friends who happened to pass by each other at the grocery store. So upon hearing this, I quickly turned around to see who she was talking to. The man smiled a guilty smile, but didn't say much. At least I don't think so, or couldn't hear it. So I went about my line, looking back every now and then wondering, is it him? Is it him? I think it was.

You'd think Al would have assistants. But it was a Sunday so maybe the assistant had the day off. OR! Maybe Al just runs his own errands? After all, he is human, and humans shop at Target. Not knowing very much about him, he SEEMS like the low maintenance type....the type to run their own errands. But, I can also see him having someone do his errands for him, to avoid crowd commotions and whatnot. I mean, can you imagine? If one day at the bank the man in front of you who turns around to borrow your pen turns out to be Al Pacino? Boy, that'd be awesome.

So, who knows. Who knows if it was really him. It could've been a look alike who loves that type of attention so he dresses more like Al, and lets his hair and facial hair grow out like Al. Or, maybe it was really AL. I guess we'll never know.



Hair update: 5 inches!!! Halfway there!! Ok, maybe 4 if I want to avoid a boy-bob. But...there is progress.

So, after dropping Fern off after a great night of salsa, I passed by the Burbank Kwik E Mart to see if i can get a peek. After all, it was 1:30 in the morning, and who would be there right? WRONG. So wrong. There was a line out the door and around the corner! To get into the Kwik E Mart! Geesh. I guess everyone had the same idea I did. It's too late to have any duff beer right now anyways.

And...I feel silly for saying this.........................but I kinda want to go to the Justin Timberlake concert. Is that wrong?

The gym is what happens when you breakup with the chiropractor. Breakups really shouldn't be this hard.

So I very very very recently joined a gym. Today, I decided to go for the first time, and took a class. Boy, was it an hour of comedy. Forget Everyone Loves Raymod. A full hour of watching me in this class would've been enough laughs for 2 full episodes of that show. But..at least I can admit that right? I feel like i get myself in these situations A LOT. Situations where I'm not completely comfortable, look incredibly dorky while being uncomfortable, and feel like I'm 30 years older than my real age, while standing next to a blonde bubbly younger Tiffany with very...incredibly pliable legs. Ugh. Seriously. Maybe her name was Jane, who knows, but she was very blonde, (the cute curly kind...OF COURSE!) and was doing very well in class. How is it that these girls can keep their hair down when they know they're going to be working up a sweat!
At least I was moving...(so I keep telling myself).

AND! Only in the Wood can men look 50 times better doing what I can barely do. We had to break off into men and women groups, and OMG, all the guys were so incredible. Will I take this class again? Most likely. But I think I need to work up to it first. Though, I don't think I can ever get up to the level of these boys. Neh-vahhh...

AND! Walking through the gym was like a treasure trove of blogs. Every corner I turned, every man or woman that walked by me, was a blog waiting to be written. So, yes, I was a little bit (ok, ALOT bit) intimidated today in the gym. But I'll make this blog my motivator. If ever I'm low on blogs, I'll tell myself that posts upon posts are waiting for me at the gym, and that I MUST go to the gym, no excuses, as I cannot let down my readers. Yes. That's it! Bada bing!

Food and I have not been on friendly terms lately. For some reason, I get this odd feeling that food wants to....wants to kill me? I can't imagine food doing such a thing, as we have been lifetime buddies. It's been with me through the good times, and the bad. And when bad times do roll, with food around, its really not that bad! But in the past 2 or 3 weeks, we've had a falling out, and I can't imagine what I did to make food angry with me. It makes me very sad. I miss food. I miss lots of food. I hope we kiss and make up soon. Hopefully over a good hearty meal.

As for being tagged, well, I feel as though I've been tagged before. In fact, I know I have. In fact fact, I don't even think i fulfilled my last tag...as I couldn't think of a last thing. But I think this one is a bit different, so once again, here they are, 8 things you don't know about me (and hopefully they're not repeats of the last tag!):

1. I've never broken a bone. Knock on wood. I just did.
2. I think carrots are evil. You laugh, but they are.
3. I'm afraid of butterflies. (But i think everyone knows that by now.)
4. I can sing the greek alphabet fowards, and say the latin alphabet backwards, up to M, and then it kinda slows down to a halt.
5. I mistakenly put a North Carolina quarter in the South Carolina hole on my quarter map, and now I can't get it out.
6. I wouldn't be able to tell you where all 50 states are if given a blank map. (...thus my quarter map)
7. Ok, I just lied, I have a quarter map because I just like to collect those nifty state quarters. I STILL wouldn't be able to tell you where the states are.
8. I once went to a John Tesh concert, and then shook his hand.

The End.

Tagging....(gosh, who still reads this blog?)
Miss Parker? The Warrens? Pen and M? E? Jenn? Missy? (oh missy, you're such a tease.)

The Lake House is actually a pretty good movie. I know I made fun of it in a previous post, and I even thought about that as I watched it. Well, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'm not saying you're great, but I'm saying you were, hey, not bad. Things didn't quite make sense, but hey, I went along with the whole thing, and it was actually pretty good.

Summer is here, where did the time go?

Missy...!!! You don't even know how happy i am to hear from you! And then to read a new post! Holy cow, that was a real treat. Its funny, because I've been thinking about you lately, and what you're up to and how you're doing. You know the poster you got for me in spain? The old moulin rouge one with the couple dancing? I got a frame for it at ikea a while ago, and it fit perfectly. (I guess they have standards for these things, but i'm always amazed when things fit perfectly.) It's in my room and I see it every day. And i always think, what a perfect poster missy got me. It is so me. I love it SO MUCH.

Get this: At my last apartment i was in for 2 years, that was the only thing i hung on the wall. So much wall space...just one framed poster. And now, in my new apartment...hm...ok, so I have 1 other thing up in the living room, my painting from college, and your poster sitting in its perfect ikea frame sitting on my dresser in my bedroom. I actually just finished decorating my bedroom this weekend. It was my mission to decorate this time around, and so far I've only been able to complete the bedroom. A friend came over before I decided to decorate, and apparently, he said I lack a woman's touch. I know! Whack, right? Right. But really, I'm like a man when it comes to decorating. Which means, not at all. Actually that's not true. I think most guys can decorate better than I can.

So congratulations on your adulthood. I hope to be joining you sometime...in the near future? Eh...just the future.

I'm glad to see you're back on the blog wagon. And for those of you who thought I have fallen off...I know i keep saying i'll come back, but dang, they sure make it hard! Everytime i try to sign on i have to reset my password. What a pain. But whatevs. I can't use that as an excuse forever now can I? INBD.

Miss, my email's still the same...holla back.

Utter disgust and horror.

So from time to time, I've been giving my readers an update on my boy Milo. In recent days, I was abhorred to find that he is now the male lead in Fergie's latest music video. After I finished retching in my mouth, I tried to compose myself enough to finish watching the rest of the video. They're on the bed making out, nearly naked. Really Milo, really? He's got ugly tats all over himself. Necessary Milo? Really? The lyrics to the song is horrible. What were you thinking Milo, and who is your agent? Cuz Imma gone kick his ass. "And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket"? Seriously Milo? More like, I'm gonna miss you like I miss you in Gilmore Girls. Or, I'm gonna miss you like I miss Beverly Hills 90210, the highschool years.

And ok, somebody's gotta tell him, the bad boy image is getting OLD. Really, isn't it the goal of an actor to get as many diverse roles as possible? Wouldn't that make one TRULY a great actor, being able to chameleon yourself into different personae? Rather than always playing the same old boy with teen angst. Really milo, you're not a teenager anymore...

If you're reading this Milo, I still love you. I just wish you would make better choices. Heroes? That was a great move (though i've yet to see you on that show, i hope when the dvds come out you don't disappoint me like you did in this video). Gilmore Girls? That was a good stepping stone for you. A music video with FERGIE? Nuh-uh. Back up. Back waaaaaay up, and re-evaluate.

I've cringed so many times watching this video that I'm devloping premature wrinkles. You know how many times I deal with this video a day at work? Ugh, you don't want to know.

I hope you read this. You can do so much better. I know you can. Do it for me.

Thanks.

I don't know where i've been lately. Out in la-la land I suppose. And since i now live in la-la land, it makes sense, no? I can't really say i've gone on hiatus to do some deep soul searching, or self help, though there have been some of that in the past months. I guess i'll just say i left on hiatus, and leave it at that.

Only a few weeks left before the Sound of Music sing along! Going with the fam this year, and i just can't wait. The last time i went, it was such a magical experience that i thought i'd take the fam this time. For those of you who haven't been, its fantastic, and I highly recommend it. If you love the movie Sound of Music, if you love singing outloud in the shower, car, or public, if you love talking to movies as though the characters can actually hear you if you yell at them enough, if you love the whole experience of Rocky Horror Picture Show, then you will love this. That's my 30 second ad. Go to hollywoodbowl.com to learn more.

Friends. I miss my friends that moved away. It's good to hear they're doing well though. Today I read this:
"When you part from your friend, you grieve not; For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absense, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain."

So true...so true. But then again, the reasons I loved them was clear before they even moved away...so what of that? Who knows.


On to more significant matters: my hair.

ha.

my hair, oh my hair. I don't know if it will last to 10+ inches. But it must! But it won't. But it must! Oh, i'm torn. I need motivation. Like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Something that will stop me from randomly cutting it on a hot summers day in august, like a drunk dialing his ex at 3am in the morning...because inevitably, I will wake up with regret's nasty morning breath in my face. sigh. 3 inches down...7 more to go. Ok, who am i kidding, its really only at 2 right now. Damn. Damn that lady who even repeated my request: "just a trim, right?" A trim my ass. I could be on my way to 6 right now...instead i'm back at 8. 8 more to go. LE SIGH.

Tuesday night- note to self: I will not be Prufrock. I will be better than HE.

So it's true what they say about asparagus and pee.

Ok ok ok.

I know I've been absent. If this blog was my job I'd be very unemployed by now. But professors can take a hiatus, so why can't I, right? Granted, I'm not off vacationing in the tropics or writing an important paper that would change lives...I've just been busy. With stuff.

Between being sick alot, moving to the city, going to Vegas, taxes, rock and rolling with the band, car troubles, birthdays, and of course, work, I haven't had much time or energy to stop and write it all down. Hopefully I'll be able to get back into the swing of things very soon.

Stay tuned though, for the next post: Life after Burbank; A tale of the big city.

Fantasy #24

Magritte and I are great friends. How we became friends in the first place is a bit unclear to both of us, since we are of completely different social circles. Him being an artist would never think twice to hang out with the likes of me. But he finds in me: a connection, an understanding of his ideas. I find in him: pure brillance. Thus, our friendship.

We are in Paris, sipping on our caffés. He normally doesn't like to come to Paris, he finds the city too bougie. But at my insistence, he agrees. He rings me at my flat which overlooks the city, and wonders to himself how I could ever live in such a city. He shakes his head in pity.

As we sit and sip, he tells me about his latest painting. I tell him he's used the umbrella too many times, though the apple looked delicious enough to eat. He smiles, taking in my criticism, and I smile in return, knowing he will do what he wants. We spend the next hour discussing different possibilities on the perfect title for another painting. I tell him about the latest song I am writing, and he gives me suggestions for lyrics. All the while, a gentle breeze blows across a perfect spring afternoon. Before we know it, the day is over, and it is time for us to part, with promises of meeting up again real soon.

The End.

Tonight I said goodbye to a dear dear friend of mine that is moving away. He is moving up first to start a new job while she stays and looks for a job, sell their home, etc. So there was no finality. No grand goodbyes. He'll be back soon to move them both up, a party will be had, and so on and so forth. It's not really the end End. Unless we keep telling each other that to make ourselves feel better...

So we went and had dinner, went back to their place, then I said goodbye as I do everytime I'm at their home, and when I left, it almost felt like a typical night out with them. Until a few steps later, when it hit me again, and tears welled up as I quickly walked to my car. Sure I'll see him again. And she'll still be here for a while. And they won't be TOO far away. But I just know it won't be the same. My dear friends, my married couple of fun, strength, love and friendship, will soon be gone, and our relationship - though it will still be there, won't be the same. I guess proximity does really bring people together. These are the changes I don't look forward to. 3 Extra weeks of daylight savings time? Yes. Good friends moving away? No.

I want to be a LION, but most times I am a mouse. And I don't even like cheese. I want to be strong, ferocious, fearless, QUEEN of the jungle....instead, I fret and eat my pointless cheese. Today I realized I fret too much. Ok, that's a lie. I KNOW I fret too much. I've known. I'm what they call a worrywart, whoever they are. I hate them.

Today I almost signed myself up for a year of who knows what. I was <-> that close to putting money down for an apt. But at the last minute...more like half hour ago, I backed out. It just didn't feel right, as much as I wanted it. I went back and forth all day about whether my hesitation was due to fear of change. Though it makes me uncomfortable, I am welcoming change right now, I'm open to being open. So if it wasn't that stopping me, and since I couldn't quite point my finger on what was, I opted out. The whole day I fretted back and forth. Yes or no. No then yes. Yes and no. Now I feel better. Plus, it was as if my yahoo horoscope knew what I was going through! It said not to rush into a decision today. Of all days I could've gotten that message. But it was delivered today. What would I do without yahoo horoscopes to tell me how to live my life??

Changes are coming. People moving hither and thither. The weather. The daylight. Lots more to come, I feel it.

Hello Friends!

No, I have not disappeared. I've just been tag teaming 2 jobs for the last week or so. But I'm back. Slowly but surely.

So I'm not an Oprah fan. I know shes done great things, and has come really far, and is a powerful woman and so on and so forth. Everyone knows that. I just never knew why people in her audiences...all these middle aged women, LOVE her SO MUCH. She's not really funny. Not that she's NOT funny, she's just not particularly funny, like say, an Ellen Degenerous. She's seems really into herself..she's always checking to see how she looks in the monitors. She cuts off her guests...sometimes kind of rudely. And she made her live studio audience (and anyone who tuned in to this particular episode - of which I am particularly guilty of) endure a 20 min segment on her getting her ears pierced. Now just having gotten my ears pierced for the first time myself recently, I know it can be pretty exciting. But dozens of millions of women have gotten their ears pierced, its nothing new. It's not like she was building the Atom bomb or baking a secret recipe chocolate cake from scratch. NO, she was just having her ears pierced. Big whoop.

Anyways, I"m getting off track. Like I said. I'm no Oprah fan. But tonight I caught her one hour prime time special on that all girls school she built in Africa, and suddenly, I have this new found respect for her. Sure, the special was a bit self promoting. But if one woman who builds a school in a third world country that helps hundreds of little girls in said country wants to promote herself and how great she is, ON TOP OF what an awesome thing she did for those girls, then go ahead, Oprah. Be my guest!

I'm sure there's lots of negative controversy surrounding this school that I don't know about, and I still have to think more about what the repercussions and consequences- good or bad- are, but on the surface, it seems like an awesome thing that she did. And she genuinely (and genuine is the keyword here, often times I really don't find her to be genuine) sounds like building this school has been an incredible dream come true for her. I mean, wouldn't it be for anyone? To have that much power to change so many lives, for the better? One can only dream to have such a dream.

I was on the verge of tears watching this special. These girls have gone through so much, and here I am, living in LA, working in entertainment, complaining about my commute. I'm so lucky I have it so good. And I really do try not to forget that.

Sometimes I wonder if I should move away somewhere and help little children, or the very poor. But in reality, I wouldn't be able to hack it. I'm too spoiled in my life with running water and flushing toilets.

But enough complaining. I know what I've done and what I have yet to do to further myself, my neighbors, my planet. Are you able to say the same for yourself?

V day is almost upon us, and I simply refuse to even acknowledge its existence, other than in the form of 2 v-day cupcakes that the lady at starbucks forced me to pre-order by smiling politely and telling me that both flavors are yummy. But i figure, pretty cupcakes are sustenance for the body, and I simply can't get through the non existent holiday without sustenance, thus, picking up these vday related cupcakes do not in any way reflect my acknowledgement of the day, I simply need it for survival purposes.

Now that we've gotten that straightened out...

Ok ok, i realize my readers don't like it when i make large generalizations when they clearly know i'm implying a specific story that I'd rather not share. But you have to understand...sometimes i simply cannot share. "Then don't blog about it!" you say? But but...blogging is my one way of venting to the internet void, so please let me have just that, and for a few posts every couple weeks or so, just live in ambiguity whilst you read my blog? Pretty please? Only after I vent can I then get on with more random and pointless stories, as so many people tell me my stories are.

So now, a story for you, in the form of a letter to the culprit who left me very disgruntled this weekend:

Hey JERK!!!

To the bastard who stole my wallet out of my purse saturday night, have you no decency? You could've easily taken just the cash, bought yourself a nice drink and some smokes, but no, you had to take everything out of the wallet. I hope this hangs in your conscious for the rest of your life, but seeing how you could even go into a girl's purse in the first place and steal her wallet just shows that maybe you have no conscious at all. If you're reading this, congratulations for even knowing how to use the computer, next time use your head and think about what you're doing. Yea, I'm also stupid for leaving my stuff unattended, so thanks but no thanks for teaching me a lesson. But still, that was a shitty thing to do to someone who was just looking to have a good time, SAME REASON why you were there that night. I hope you're reading this because I have one word for you: KARMA.

Randomness

My oh my. My readers are getting testy...that is troubling. Do you want that I put a cork in it? Or do want that I offer my readers some metaphorical dope? Please be less vague next time, I am at a loss for how to proceed. And what's with all the commentators with no real names?

In any case, I feel like I haven't mentioned my boy Milo in a while. Just because I don't talk about him doesn't mean I don't think about him. Yes, yes, I realize he's on a hit show now. A hit show that I have not been able to catch...perhaps in DVD form somewhere down the line. But I am so very happy for him. It must get frustrating for him to be on show after cancelled show, so I'm glad he's found a permanent home now. At least for a few seasons more right? Keep up the good work Milo V.

I went to catch a show in silverlake on Tuesday night and realized that, if ever I decide to move there, I'd need to have lots of hair to fit in. More than I have now. I mean lots. In the form of a full on beard. Like the kind that connects to my Dylan McKay sideburns. Or I'd need to be half my size and wear skinny jeans all the time. That seems like too much work, so I'm gonna have to go with the full on beard- I wouldn't have to do anything to it except let it be. Hipsters are always trying to be cool by being anti-cool, so if I'm anti-hipsters, does that make me anti-anti-cool, therefore, making me cool by being myself? Awesome. Actually, I love you hipsters, I really do. I'm just jealous I can't look like you.

Speaking of skinny jeans...who the heck came up with them? Don't they know that only a certain type of girl (and boy) can wear them, thereby leaving out the other 90% that can't? Really now. This is something that John Stossel would be outraged about. At least, he should be. For the sake of us, the 90%.

In conclusion, NPR and PBS are in trouble. You can do your share and save them HERE.

Thank yee kindlee.

Despite my very best efforts to be the smart, sophisticated, modern, PC, cosmopolitan girl of the 21st century, I still fall short sometimes. Everyone does, I'm sure. But I don't want to be like everyone. Most of the time I know better NOT to do something, but I do it anyways, thinking that it won't affect me, but it usually does. Why do we go against our better judgement? Because it's enticing, that's why. Oh...the joys of being human, and not a robot.

I bet if I was a robot, I'd do a killer lock n' pop. Being merely human, I won't even attempt it.

Thanksgiving

Tonight I am feeling extremely thankful for everything I have in my life. Yes, we should all be thankful everyday, yes yes. But we're not. Sometimes I complain about this. Other times I bitch about that. Sometimes I'm jealous that people have what I want. Other times I'm filled with an overwhelming need to just...want.

Tonight I ask for nothing.

Tonight I went over to the drugstore to buy soap. I was thankful to have money to buy the soap. And a big drugstore to buy the soap. A drugstore!! With enough drugs to keep a whole town painfree. And then I drove home. In a car!! In a vehicle that actually takes me places, and takes my friends places. A vehicle that gives me freedom. And then I came home to my apt...a roof over my head. A head which, is full of hair! I should be so lucky to have so much hair, while people are losing handfuls of it by the minute, whether it be cancer patients, balding men, or even balding women! I have gas to cook food and keep me warm, a fridge full of food. A TV! A computer!! I have a computer to blog with. I have a full time job to wake up for. With people that I like. People that I look forward to seeing. I work with music videos all day for crying out loud. How many people get to do that??? I have my family, my dear dear friends, and my health. (ok that last one is a bit shaky, but for the most part it's there) I'm thankful to be of normal height, to have a functional brain (though some may argue otherwise, but for the most part, its functional), to have all my extremeties available to me. I'm lucky that this week, I have no annoying little papercuts on my hands. I mean really, I can go on and on.

Tonight, I am overcome with a sense of gratitude and appreciation. Most people know who to ultimately thank in situations like these. But alas, I am not tight with God, or God Jr. Allah does not come over for tea. The last time Buddha and I had a heart to heart was probably in my past life, if I had one. For me, I do not know who is responsible for my great fortune, except possibly myself. But all this seems to be bigger than I, and way beyond me and my magical powers. So I will send it out to the great internet void who, with all its spam and viral video capabilities, will surely find whoever or whatever is responsible, and let them know that I'm grateful, I'm thankful, I'm appreciative, for everything I have tonight.

Am running out of DVDs to watch while I camp on the couch.

Interesting fact: did you guys know that Dr. Callie Torres, before working at the Seattle Grace Hospital, was actually THE grocery checker Rose "what-a-beautiful-name-Rose" in you've got mail? It's always nice to see people move their way up. I mean really, from the grocery checker to surgeon? That is quite the jump.

I've always thought I had a good solid DVD collection. I only stock it up with movies I know I will watch over and over, in case of rainy days, sick days, or an emergency broadcast system type of lock-yourself-in-your-house days. And of course, the collection has its share of chick flicks, which I always thought were solid well made chick flicks until I recently re-watched some of them.

Take The Wedding Singer, for instance. Instantly, you think: classic, right? It's got the funny, it's got the silly, it's got the romance, its got the Billy Idol, a rapping granny with meatballs...what more can you ask for? But after watching it again recently, I think I fell out of love with it. This last time, it struck me that Drew Barrymore's character must have been written by a man. And you know what? I just imdb'd it, and surprise surprise, I'm right. I'll save you some time, and not get into my "closet feminist" tirade, but just watch the movie, you'll know what I mean.

And then there's You've Got Mail, my absolute favorite chick flick of all. I still think its wonderfully written and executed and all that, but the ending always leaves me a little perturbed. So Kathleen Kelly finally realizes that the man she's been exchanging emails with is actually her business nemesis turned friend turned possible love connection Joe Fox. And what does she say in this moment of realization? "I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly." Which, yknow, is kinda sweet in the moment since we know that her relationship has blossomed with Joe Fox. But seriously, does she not see that he's been manipulating her throughout their whole relationship? He pretty much tricked her into liking him.

Someday I'd like to see the "After Ending," the story that doesn't get told as the credits roll. If I ever run into Nora Ephron, which I hope I will someday, I will have to grill her about this ending.

Until then, the balcony is closed.

Yesterday I decided to have some hot water and honey, and as soon as I had my first sip, I was reminded of New Jersey. Other things that remind me of new jersey? Raisin bran, and cheesy doritos. Funny thing how these memories work.

Yesterday I sneezed in the morning and I swear, it felt like a bomb went off in my head. I had to take several seconds to gather myself and my composure. I vowed then never to sneeze again.

8 hours later, I forgot my vow, and sneezed again. Another bomb off in my head, and another few seconds to regroup, plus another few more seconds to reprimand myself for breaking the vow.

Sneezing is the worst when you're trying to drive. Do you realize that you always sneeze with your eyes closed? And now that I've said that, you're going to try to sneeze with your eye open, just to prove me wrong. Well don't, they'll pop out. Just take my word for it. Whenever I sneeze in the car I feel like I'm going to get in an accident. For that few seconds I am in the dark...unable to see the baby in the street, or the car merging into my lane, or that sudden red light. Imagine if everyone in their cars sneezed at the same time. There would be pure chaos. Pandemonium. Someone should make that into a movie...

I'm not a smoker, so I'm not the most knowledgeable about these sorts of things, but,

I was just at the gas station, behind a guy who bought 6 packs of cigarettes from the attendant, stacked them up, and then went on his merry way. And while I was watching him stack the packs, it suddenly dawned on me: why would they sell such thing as cigarettes at a place loaded with fuel where anyone can just light up and possibly blow themselves - as well as others -up into little bitty pieces? Grocery stores, yes. 7-11s, yes. But gas stations?? I guess its not like anyone would light up at the gas station, but still, it boggles my mind.

So while people are quickly going down one at a time around me in this sick season, I thought I was untouchable, with some sort of super immunity system. I wash my hands, I take the nasty zinc pills, I remain in a positive mental state of non-sickness.
Well, turns out that I'm just slow...as with everything else. Joke's on me - haha.

Ok.

I just realized something: I've lost my inner dialogue.

No. I mean, its still there. I hear it all the time. I just lost the ability to blog my inner dialogue, and I think i know what happened. I used to blog alot more when I was living sex and the city (as in, living vicariously through dvds). I'd picture myself as carrie bradshaw, posing big questions, wondering why people do this or that, narrating my own life, my friends lives, the lives of people next to me in line at the grocery store. I didn't have a snazzy laptop like she did, but I had my thoughts, and I'd blog inside my head all the time, and thus the plentiful posts.

So what happened, you ask?

An American Girl In Paris, that's what. Big season 6 finale, mr big vs petrovsky, and of course, of course, Paris. And then that was it! The girls were just like that, *poof* gone from my life. Suddenly, my inner thoughts to myself transferred into words and sentences and paragraphs into this box with wires and googles and mice suddenly seemed completely ridiculous. It's because I didn't have carrie's inner dialogue anymore alongside mine, to justify my own inner dialogue so i don't seem all THAT crazy. And slowly, slowly, i stopped watching TV.

And I know what you're thinking. The fact that I'm even bringing up sex and the city is really ALL THAT CRAZY. But can it be? This crazy invention that we call television has become my muse?

No, it can't be. Because the things I blogged about were still drawn from life experiences, it wasn't all TV related.

So what really happened?

I don't know. I guess I'm still trying to figure that out. But for now, this is what I've got.

Knuckles: cracked.
Body: ergonomically seated.
Fingers: on keyboard...typing this word...now this word.

Saddam is dead. Now I am not one to be politically savvy about such things, but this is a big deal. In my head I know it's a big deal, but I don't quite have the capacity to discuss how or why without sounding totally politically ignorant. To kill one who has killed others...that's such a big topic that I don't even know where to start.

So the new year is merely days away. I keep having an urge for something new. Usually new clothes solves this itch. You put on some new threads, you feel like a new person, right? Well, not this year. I'm impatient this year. I want new clothes so I go to the mall. I walk into a store, do a quick 360, and I'm out in less than 5 minutes, with nothing in my hands. So maybe some makeup? Again, as soon as I'm inside I want to be outside. Went in for a trim on ye olde hair thinking a trim will be refreshing, instead I walked out defeated, trying to hold my botched hair and the too-short bangs up high. It'll grow out. I start doing some (very) minimal exercises, thinking I can get a jump start on the resolutions thing. Two days into it, I'm sick and my body aches, and those minimal exercises are already out the door. Seems as though my attempts at new-ness for the new year have all been thwarted.

At least in the new year, my commute won't be as bad. We've moved, and I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to Larry or Bennie.

In any case, I'm hoping the new year will bring new adventures. I feel as though I've had my share this year, have accomplished alot, but I really want to out do what I did this year. I mean, don't we all?

And hopefully in the new year I'll write better blogs.

Happy First Day of Winter....


Um...I guess. I can't believe its only the first day, I feel like I've been freezing my ass off for the past month, and its only the first freakin day of winter? Good grief. I don't know how I'll survive.

Um.

That's all I've got.

Yup.

This past Saturday as I ate a late lunch, I decided to see what was on the tele. Knowing it was a Saturday afternoon, I was predicting either golf or some sort of Battlestar Galactica show or probably both simultaneously on multiple channels...maybe? Well, I was right. But then I came across something spectacular!!

Soooooooooooooouuuuuuuuullllllllll Trrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiinnnnnnnn

Now, knowing how much we despise the horrid horrid memories of this show as former pages, something caught my attention that made me watch. Actually, I changed the channel, then returned...semi intrigued. Don Cornelius was actually hosting the show, and he looked much younger. Turns out this was a "Best of ST" episode from 1971!! It was so awesome I couldn't believe it. Barry White was a performer, and all the dancers were crowded around him and his piano, while Don took questions. Then after the questions, Barry sang. And boy, Barry was even sexier back then! Well, his voice was...not so much the slick hair....not so much.

So the dancers danced while he sang, they danced while other groups sang, and then they danced to the old ST theme song. And I was watching them dance and just noticed how much fun they looked like they were having. They were dancing mostly coupled up, several guys had the plaid bell bottoms, almost everyone had an afro whether they were black or white, boy or girl. The women had clothing that looked stylish, yet respectable. Everyone was just having fun and dancing to the music.

There was none of that slutty girl ass or breast zoom in zoom out dissolve to hoochie mama tight spandex high heeled movements. That's the thing, the girls on the show don't dance anymore, they just move about and feel themselves up and down as the cameras go by. On this episode, no one looked like they belong in porn, no one looked directly at me through the camera as though they were about to do me. Everyone was just dancing and having a good time. It was CLEARLY about the music. And that's probably what made the show so popular to begin with. I can see how it has lasted so long. But the way the show has turned...I don't know...it just makes me sad. And it makes me want to live in the 70s, with those cool hep kats and their big hair. Too bad my hair is so straight.

I want to go back to a time when it really was about peace, love, and sooooooouuuuuuulllll. That is hard to find these days. I think I would've enjoyed it.

6 Weird Things About Me...

...that you may or may not already know.

1. I think my left leg is longer than my right leg because I have a tendency to veer towards the right when I walk so that I always eventually bump into whoever is on my right side leaving them to think I'm trying to get closer to them, when in fact, I'm just veering.

2. I'm deathly afraid of butterflies. I had a dream once where one landed on my hand and left some white poisonous powder on my hand so that meant that I was going to die. I think they're evil in disguise.

3. You know in About a Boy (book or movie, doesn't matter), the boy hums outloud without knowing it? I was relieved to read about this, because I involuntarily do the same, usually after stressful or embarrassing situations, thus making the situation more embarrassing and stressing me out even more.

4. Action movies really stress me out to the point where I really don't care to watch them anymore because they blow up so many buildings and cars and all I can think about is, "Now who is going to clean up that mess?" and we have just added a ton of unnecessary garbage to our world. The same stress comes from going to Costco, supermarkets, anything in mass quantities. If you multiply an average of two grocery stores within a one mile radius by millions of miles around the world by millions of yogurt cups manufactured....oy, just thinking about it stresses me out.

5. I can sleep for 2 hours (or more) with my head underneath a heavy comforter. I don't know where I get the oxygen to breathe. Maybe I just don't. That would explain alot.

6. This will be a To Be Continued, because I can't think of another one.

And now, I tag Mel, Jyvonne, Sara, Ephraim, and Jen to do the same.

This weird thing has been happening to me alot lately. It's pretty embarrassing, so I'll refrain from saying what it is. But its been happening alot. The first few times I've shrugged it off, but then it happened again today. And it happened in such an odd way that I just felt like something was up. As if I'm a part of some conspiracy theory or some hidden camera show. Except, in hidden camera shows, the joke usually takes place within a few minutes, not a few weeks, like it has for me. Unless Ashton Kutcher is working on his comeback and has picked me to be his lucky victim. But that is as possible as [insert something impossible here].

And then it hit me: the universe is trying to tell me something. But the universe is sneaky. It doesn't tell me directly, it tells me in encrypted messages like these odd occurences lately. I just wish I knew what it was trying to tell me. On one hand, I hear loud and clear what the universe "seems" to be telling me, but on the other hand, I just feel like there's gotta be more to it. So until I can encrypt this message, I'll be on the lookout, and proceeding with caution.

Today I felt an urge. An overwhelming urge. The urge to DO. PLAY. MAKE. CREATE. LOVE. exercise? Yes, even the urge to get off my butt. I don't know where it came from. Probably from being stagnant for so long. Stagnant at work, in traffic, in my mind, body and soul. I don't think it matters. I just know that the urge is there, and I have to do something about it.

It's time for new beginnings.

And how convenient that I have to switch to a new version of blogger at such a time. It helps me get started.

Even just sitting here typing this right now, I have this overwhelming urge to jump out of the chair. Not just get up, but literally jump out of my chair and go do something life changing. But alas, it is midnight, and I'm still waiting for the washer to finish up its cycle. I know, excuses, excuses. Excuses kill the flow of energy. But at least I'm blogging. Even to the most minute extent, that's doing. Right?

Sometimes I wonder if I'm being sucked into LA. If I've become superficial and fake, and everything else I dreaded about living in LA before I moved here. Ok, so technically I live in The Valley, but I'm surrounded by LA all the time. There's been so many times when I'll be having a meal by myself, and can hear the people at a close by table talking about this audition or that script, or directing this and editing that. It's unavoidable, I know, but sometimes I feel sufficated by it. I'm using terms like "the industry" and name dropping the celebrities i see at the grocery store, and buying expensive burgers that still don't taste quite as good as the less than $5 deal at In N Out. I read the trades as homework, I feel guilty for not watching more TV than I do now as "research", and I was really truly sincerely happy when Paris and Nicole made up.

I can't tell if I wasn't working in this industry, whether I'd react to celebrities and LA in this way, or if it's because I really care about these things that I ended up in LA. I guess we'll never know.

All I can say for sure is this: At least my breasts and lips are real. Even my haircolor, along with that one strand of white sticking out that I just can't get rid of is real. But for how long?

Today was not the greatest day that I've ever known, but it wasn't so bad either.

Today I was honked at constantly in the parking lot by the impatient car behind me and I had visions of putting my car in reverse and stepping on the gas.

Today I bought a too expensive burger with curly fries, then was determined to finish it.

Today, while eating said burger, we realized Don Cheadle was eating lunch next to us. He is a beautiful man, even in person.

Today, I regretted eating the expensive burger too late into the process. I am still nauseous from meat overdose.

Today is one more day closer to 4 days off, but also 2 days of no income.

Today, the security guard paid me an unexpected compliment, to which I said thank you.

Today I learned of awful news from a dear friend, which is still on my mind.

Today I am channeling my energies into a new experiment that may very likely fail than not.

Today I am contemplating going to bed early, though there is still much work to do and 4 episodes of LOST to be watched.

Tomorrow is another today.

Tonight I have nothing to blog about.

Nothing eventful other than having lunch with Bennie Affleck.

And...zoom in, cue the Dun Dun Duns!!

(Dramatic pause)

Ok. Alright. So we didn't exactly carry on a conversation with each other during lunch. Let's just say he sat at his table, and I and coworker at ours, 10 ft apart, my face blocked from his line of vision by his back and some thick shrubs. But still. We were all in the same vicinity, and we were all having lunch.

In all reality, this was not as exciting as I'm making it out to be. Me and said co-worker didn't even know he was at the other table until 3rd co-worker pointed it out to us. And even after that, we were more intrigued by the two fatty but extremely cute boxer dogs who decided to waddle over to us (seriously, they waddled), and then peed right next to us. Really, fat dogs that can barely walk are fascinating. I could've watched them for hours and hours.

Once in a while, I think my brain short circuits for a brief second, like just now when I got a little dizzy, and then, snap, it's gone, and I'm back in action. It's as if I'm a machine or something.

Today, I finally ran into Larry D. Well, I technically wasn't running, and we didn't physically bump into each other. Ok, so we only walked by each other. I flashed him an "ooooh pick me pick me as a guest star to be in the next episode" smile, but apparently he didn't pick up on it, and just kept right on walking. Sigh. Next time, I'll break out the "I just want to be an extra" smile. Maybe "aloof" is key?

The show last night at the Knitting Factory was great, in case you were wondering. I bought a pickup mic last week from a guy on craigslist (I heart you craig and ken), and it worked just as planned, with minor setbacks, but who's counting. People enjoyed the show, and I played/sang my heart out, while on my tippy toes.

I've realized that it's not about the product, its really about the process of making the product. At least for me. And you can say the two are the same, ie, the product IS the process, but I think they're just very closely related. Sure it was great having familiar faces in the crowd acknowledge your presence on stage, hearing people clap at the end of every song in approval. All that is truly appreciated. But it's not the core of the high. The high comes from making the music, as cheeseball as it sounds...pass me the crackers, please! On a very very minute level, it comes from hearing the different frequencies of the invisible audio waves from each instrument and voice interact with one another to create harmonies, and melodies, and at times out of tune dissonance, but eventually finding its way back to harmonies that resonate together again... Yea yea, a bunch of hippie mumbo jumbo I guess. But to me, and I'm sure to alot of people, that's really what it is.

But it's also so much more than what I can put into words right now. For now I'll just say that we rocked loud, we rocked hard, we rocked.

Finally. It seems as though the heated days of summer that somehow escaped its way out of September has been caught and put back in its rightful place. Real LA Fall seems to be upon us, though with LA weather, you can never tell whether those heated days will make another escape perhaps say, the day before Christmas, to bestow us with yet another perfectly warm LA Christmas.

I've been visited lately by Melancholy, which usually brings along connotations of negativity and sadness, though I often believe there is room in that big suitcase for optimism and well being. Though listening to wonderfully depressing music, even turned up loudly, doesn't contribute much to making the guest want to leave. I have gotten used to these visits, as like with all things, I know it will come and go, so instead embrace it like the rays of the sun through my car windshield on the 405: unwanted, but also unstoppable. On late nights I offer to make margaritas for us, which Mel usually refuses, because I have no ice, and because I have no margarita mix. So then we just BE.

So after a period of dry spells, I've suddenly become inundated with celebrity sightings. Ok, maybe inundated is the wrong word, but the dry spell is definitely over. I currently work in a building that houses Ben Affleck, Larry David, and Emilio Estevez. All three of whom I have seen. Ben by the bathrooms, Larry in his office, and Emilio in the parking lot. It always amazes me (although it shouldn't) that Ben's car is always there and parked in its spot by the time I get to work. If Ben can get to work on time, I should too, or so I think, but it never happens. I'll blame that on traffic.

Today I ran into a man who was trying to ask me for some directions. Midway through my explanation, I realized that the woman he was with was Emily Watson. She didn't speak much, but she sho was purty.

And that concludes this portion of DB's Celebrity Sightings.

Ok, ok. So I've been a bit busy lately. Here are the current state of affairs:

Apartment: in shambles
Laundry: Clean!
Violin: tuned.
Stomach: hungry.
Pink chucks: none.
Shows: 2 down, 1 to go.
Hair: getting long.
Ears: Recently pierced, not infected.
Car: side mirror mysteriously broken, needs oil change, and a good wash.

Ladies and gents, thanks for being patient, as I've been held up by this or that in the past few hours/days/weeks/months/years?
Shit. Years? No no, we'll stop at months.

Most recent exciting news: no longer going on tour, but played two shows with The Little Heroes this weekend. More of which will come in the next blog, as my bed is calling my name, even though my stomach has other plans. On second thought, perhaps I will postpone talking about playing with the band until after our last show, as to not jinx it all.

Come one, come all, to the greatest show on earth!
(no, not the circus)
The Little Heroes
11/13 8pm
Knitting Factory, Hollywood.

And to all a good night.

OMG. I just realized that Ugly Betty wore those Traveling Pants. Why did it take me that long to make the connection?

Whoa...sounds like a storm is a brewin outside. Those crazy santa anas.

Lorelai and Christopher. I can't believe the writers actually went through with it. They wrote Luke off so quickly, he never had a chance! Oy...I just don't know about this show anymore.

Speaking of shows, I had a chance to catch up on some real cable on the plane, thanks to Jet Blue and DirectTV! Project runway seems pretty interesting, as everyone says. I also came across...(dun dun dun!!!!)...Laguna Beach. I just had to see what everyone was talking about. And all I have to say is this:

Dear Laguna Beach,

Are you FOR REAL?? Because I really can't tell. Everything about you is so overly dramatic, and your conversations are so, like, perfectly, like, set up that its just like, a little unbelievable. All your characters are just all so pretty, what's with that? Your girls look older than I'll look in 5 years! (granted, I do have a 5 year handicap) And the boobs. Can't exclude them boobs. They're like a character with their own plot line, and seriously, you have enough characters already, I can't keep up. And your boys. They're just the biggest pussies I've ever seen. At least I know that is for real. I highly doubt that boys meet up at the park under the guise of skateboarding in order to "really" discuss whether they're leading on their girlfriends, or whether they should break up. My god. Have I totally lost touch with the real world? Are you just the cousin of Sweet Sixteen? Either way, you're both evil.

But yea, call me sometime, let's hang out! Maybe on the next Jetblue flight?

L?ve,
your BFF!!!

Sigh.

New haircuts. They're really a no-win situation. You can't get away without someone noticing a new hair-did, that is of course, unless you wear a hat to cover it up. And let's face it people, I'm no hat person. Perhaps I should try putting a bag over my head...but even that draws too much attention.

I generally hate my haircuts. There have been a handful of them that I was actually excited about, but the rest I have not been too pleased with. But its ok, because hair grows out, and actually- once it grows a little, they're generally not TOO bad. But because I usually don't like my haircuts, I'm stuck in a "hairy" situation. Obvious comments such as "oh, you got a haircut!" generally evolves into, "looks great!" And I'm either stuck lying about how much I love my new "did" (or, "don't and wish I never had" if you will), or saying the truth- that I hate it, which invariably makes me look like I'm just fishing around for compliments like, "no way, it looks faaabulous." Because really, when was the last time someone said to your face, "Eeeek...what happened to your head?"

This time around, I've learned my lesson, which is to just smile, nod, and acknowledge as I tousle my shorter tresses, and quickly move on. However, the kitchen, where everyone convenes for coffee and the mild banters of weekend activities and whatnot is hard to avoid. Got to have the coffee to go with the new "DOn't." It's my only salvation.

The haircut this time is not God-awful, where I'm embarrassed to be seen. But its not fan-tabulous either. I've become too lazy to fret over it, except for that minute immediately following the moment I wake up, where I remember I've just had a haircut, which is only made worse by the inevitable aftermath of sweet sweet sleep. But then I wash, dry, and do the did, then just move on. Rinse Lather and Repeat for several days. In a short month, it'll be old news. In the mean time, I'm grateful for rubberbands, bobby pins, and maybe the occasional hat.

Ok, seriously folks.

How ecstatic am I to hear that Paris and Nicole have gotten back together? And with a slumber party! Seriously. I know the two of them are way way way overhyped in the media for their own good. And yes, they're people just like us. Except with alot more money...ALOT more. I know this is a very LA thing to say, but in all earnestness, if lame-ass people like Paris and Nicole can get back together and make up, that gives me hope for all the hate in the rest of the world. I truly am happy that they're friends again. They worked so well together, even when scripted.

So, I leave LA for a couple of days and this is what happens? Maybe I need to leave more. Imagine what I can accomplish if I left LA for a month!! I could come back to Brad and Jen again and find out that the whole Angelina thing was just a bad MOW (or, MOY: Movie of the YEAR). Perhaps with kids? Triplets!!

Maybe if I moved out of LA for good, Tom would still be with Nicole, and not crazy with Katie.

Ok, ok, who am I kidding. Tom's always been crazy. I'll change that last one to: Tom would still be with Nicole, and his old publicist.

It's a sad day when the people bringing you hope are people like Paris and Nicole. I hope they won't let me down.

Wow. An assignment from a dear reader. That is a first. I'll give it a go.

Introspective Retrospective: A Reflection

Looking back on these last 5 years of blogging, I don't regret ever starting a blog in the first place, in fact, I highly commend myself for doing so, and any others that do the same. The idea for the blog came after my first website went up in sophomore year of college. It was summer, I was at summer school in San Diego, and not many friends were around, so blogging became a way for me to easily update any news to my website, as well as an outlet for me to stop talking to myself so much since no one was around...yea...sad but true.

When I started, I never really thought the relationship would last this long. After all, my first, second, and third website have since died...yet this blog lives. And when I refer to my blog as a relationship, you might think its funny, but it truly has been a relationship for me. Not in the traditional physical tangible relationship way. But the same way you share a day's events with a boyfriend or girlfriend, or catch up with a friend you haven't seen in a while, I do through this blog. In sharing things about me on this blog, I'm able to share myself with the masses through a cloak of invisibility. And a relationship is all about sharing right? And commitment. 5 years is a long time. Alot happens in 5 years. And, granted, I haven't blogged on a daily basis since the inception of Daily Banterings, I haven't completely given up on it either.

I get different things out of my blog at different times. Right now, what I feel like I'm getting the most out of blogging is a RECORD. I'm starting to realize that I tend to have an awful memory, and by blogging about things, no matter how little and insignificant they may be, the entries serve as my brain, part of my past, history. I enjoy going back and reading the things I've forgotten about. And the idea of that is probably total anti-buddhist...but then again, I'm not a buddhist, and its my blog, so I can do anything I want. But I think (if I have it correctly), Buddhism teaches about living in the present. Being aware of the present. Not having any possessions, which also equates to not holding on to the past. But, its not like I'm holding on to the past by recording it in my blog, I just enjoy visiting the past from time to time. Maybe that's why it's called FOND memories, and not awful horrific memories.

Other times, I just need an audience, a soapbox. If I have something to bitch about, I want to do it for an audience, not just for myself, otherwise, I don't think it'd be bitching, it'd be just mental thoughts. I think I have a set core audience of 3-5 readers, which is enough for me, but the idea of the internet reaching the south pole is quite intriguing to me. The possibility of strangers landing on this blog is a scary, yet exciting thought. I often wonder about my audience. Whether I should keep certain things under wraps for fear that someone is going to find this blog and be able to read all about me. But it's not really for others. I don't blog for other people, I like to think that I blog for my own benefit, and the audience is just an added value feature.

I also blog to try to keep my mental juices flowing. I wouldn't say that blogging is a creative outlet for me...it's more of just thoughts pouring out of my head. I think once in a blue moon I'll try to get creative with my blog, but, I'm not writing the great american novel here. My fingers are just taking dictation from my brain.

As fun as it can be though, I'm often paralyzed by blogging. I don't know what it is. Perhaps fear. Fear of people knowing more about me than I really want. Fear of becoming mundane and trite....and of becoming the type who uses the words "mundane" and "trite" together in one sentence. Laziness. Lack of vocabulary and eloquence to say everything that I'm thinking or feeling. People are made real by words, yknow? You could be feeling sad or ecstatic on the inside, but that existence of being sad or ecstatic doesn't come into being until you put it into words. I guess you can look at someone crying and know that they're sad without them having to say so. But once they do, that makes it even more real. Once it's put into words, it becomes real, there is no room for doubt as to whether that person is sad or not, because they have just said or written that they are. It's like...ok, here comes another one of my analogies. It's like when you're being beamed on the starship. Yes, ala Startrek. (Insert nerd joke here.) So everyone is walking around and existing as a glittery half-there hologram with all their thoughts and feelings that they think and feel UNTIL you put a feeling or thought into words. That's when you're completely beamed over to the otherside...when you materialize. Words materialize people. It validates the intangible...

I don't know, you could probably argue with that point. I'm open to any other views.

Yarrrrr...A happy TLAP Day to thee....

Sometimes I wonder if I should take up smoking.

Ok, no, of course not. First of all, all my money is already going to the coffee addiction, not nicotine, though I've heard the combination is a great one.

Second of all, people who smoke are way cool, and I'm only semi cool, and that semi part only exists in my head some of the time, but that's all that matters right? And I know there's some of you out there going, no way, smoking isn't cool. It's so gross and digusting. Ugh. But you're wrong. Despite what your parents, D.A.R.E officers, and PSAs have told you, smoking is kick ass cool. Probably not as cool as a healthy liver, but really...have you ever met a smoker that wasn't cool? I mean, they could be the meanest, rudest, or sweetest people ever, but they have something that non smokers don't have: an air of coolness.

Y'know that episode of Friends (yes, Friends) where Rachel takes up smoking in order to get promoted? Well...the writers totally had that right on the nose. Smokers have excuses to take breaks. They can all instantly bond because they share a love for a magical white stick. It's like they're all in this special club together that non smokers would never understand. And by the way, we do understand, we just choose not to. You can hit on someone taking a smoke outside a bar, because you know they're not going to complain about you smoking. You can share something intimate with your boss over a drag and be in line for promotion the next day. You can meet random strangers and hot chics and hot guys that would never talk to you outside the smoking circle, but since you're a member of the club, they'll give you that one chance, and vice versa. All this over a pinch of dead turf rolled up with some paper. It's amazing, it really is.

If only there was a way to get into the club without adhering to the beliefs and practices of said club. And forget about those candy cigarettes...not enough flavor, not enough bubble.

If only there was a way to make coffee drinking as cool...but I think Starbucks ruined that chance for all of us...damn Starbucks....(no, I don't really mean that, I love you).

Arrrr......

I missed the first orchestra rehearsal. And it really bums me out to know that I'll miss all the other orchestra rehearsals. I really feel like playing, but alas, there is no where for me to practice. What a bummer. Hopefully by next year I can get back in the swing of things again.

It seems as though I'm running into people from the past everywhere! This past saturday, I ran into a friend from Highschool. Had not seen him in years, and suddenly, BAM! we were standing there chatting, directly in front of a possible stampede path of death by a red elephant. He remembered me, and the elephant did not charge. I am thankful for both.

And then last weekend, while at the grove with the relatives, I ran into a friend from college. My film partner in crime. He definitely recognized me, but sadly did not seem to recall my name. Totally understandable...I did pretty much sneak up on him without warning. But still.

Now what does this mean? All these people from my past, now emerging out of nowhere? Ok ok, granted, it was only 2 people, and I wouldn't be surprised if I don't hear from them again until the next random run in, but 2 in two weeks seems like something of significance...doesn't it? Or maybe I'm just looking too much into things. OR! Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. Maybe it wants me to go back in time by bringing people from my past into my now to slowly adjust myself to something, of which I will find out exactly what when it happens. First a college friend. Then a highschool friend. What's next, someone from elementary school? Ok, if that happens, that'll definitely be a sign. Until then, I'm just gonna keep cool...and flip my collars up for effect.

I recently rewatched In the Mood For Love. And while I was watching, I remembered that the first time I saw the movie was back in highschool with my parents...still just a kid. I remember that I totally lost interest in the movie, and never finished it. Probably partly because I couldn't understand what they were saying, and the chinese subtitles were going too fast for me to read.

Fast forward to now, rewatching the movie for the 5th or 6th time...just thinking that it's brilliant. The subtleties, the concept, the acting, the music...all of it combined together, it's all just brilliant, and I get it, and understand it (partly because now I have the version with ENGLISH subtitles) on a much deeper level. It's really one of my favorites.

But rewind back to me in highschool, I remember thinking, man, this is one of those artsy fartsy movies that rich people sit around to watch and say is brilliant just so they can seem smarter than they really are. This movie is a bunch of nonsense.

So doing all this thinking about the movie led me to wonder: would my kid self approve of my adult self? And I even hesitate to say adult, because I really don't feel like one yet. I guess more mature would be better. If I, as a 16 year old, could see myself now, as a 25 year old, would I be proud? Or would I be disappointed? And if I, as a 25 year old right now, could see myself as a 40 year old, what would I think of her?

When I was in highschool, I wanted to be a musician. A professional musician. I wanted to play in the philharmonic, or for broadway shows, or cirque du soleil (I got introduced to it in highscool...) And now, looking back, it really wouldn't have worked for many many reasons. But if I were to tell my younger self what I'm doing now, before I knew what I know now, would my younger self be pissed at me now?

Ok ok. Let's just cut to the chase. I haven't been blogging. And I can't give you the reasons why without sounding like a total flake, so I won't.

Well, ok. One of the reasons is just that I feel like my creative blogging juices are slowly draining away from me. And all that's left is the crappy pulp stuff...which they say is good for you, but without the juice, is really just dry crap if you ask me. But wait, don't pull out your violins yet...I'm willing to work on it and keep blogging.

I've realized that aside from entertaining audiences with my banter, blogging is also a good way for me keep a record of things that are going on in my life. So let's get started, eh?

I saw boobies. Well, "a" (singular) boob.

Let's backtrack yea?

Couple weeks ago I took my parents to the Hollywood Bowl, since they've never been. We had a nice time, and as we got back to the Hollywood and Highland complex, we decided to stop at the restrooms before heading for our car. So while I was waiting for both my parents to come out, these group of girls came out. These...I can't even call them girls...they're more than teens, but less than women. I guess they are women, but they were just all so....so giggly. Oy. Not that there's anything wrong with giggly, but there were loud, obnoxious giggly, and wearing skirts that looked like they were painted on.

I watched them with disgusted amusement. Was I jealous of these girls with their low cut shirts and big boobs and perfect hair walking sexily in their high HIGH heels? These sorority sisters about to begin their night of drunken who knows what with god knows who, while I was ending my night with...the parents. I think I can honestly say no, I wasn't jealous. To be honest, watching them in action took alot of energy out of me, and frankly, I just don't have that kind of pep in me.

But still....I watched them from afar, wondering what life would be like under all that makeup and tight clothes and "like, ohmigod!" coming out of my mouth with ease. I never did that in college. Maybe I should've...just to be able to say I did that. But really...unless you're a cheerleader by nature, who can DO THAT? I see myself as Eeyore by nature...and Eeyore will never be Tigger.

But I digress...

So this girl with the huge boobs...she's laughing and chatting with her girls, and fixing and retying her low cut halter when suddenly, her bare boob falls out for...not even a split second...it was much longer than that, yet she didn't seem to notice. What seemed like a minute later...she finally looked down and said, oops! And covered it back up. Even though I was in plain sight, I didn't bother looking away. I just stared. It's always interesting to see someone elses' boob.

All in all, it was a fruitful night: John Williams, movie music, and a Boob. Not too shabby.

That's it for tonight. Join me next time for...well, you'll just have to come back and find out.