Last night while brushing my teeth, I looked over and saw a slug beneath my bathroom window. A slug!! I've been telling this story to people, and they seemed to find it as odd as I did.

It was just there on a corner, slugging around with its two antennaes. So I got a paper towel from the kitchen and decided to flush it down then toilet. But then I saw it sluggin around in my paper towel, still alive, and I knew I couldn't do it. (Plus it was thick and fatty, half the size of my pinky!) So I took the slug outside, and left it on my doorstep, and watched it slowly slug away.

So long Bernard, may you never slug back again.

****
A couple weeks ago, while driving to work, I was turning right when I saw this guy in his car stopped at a light. Nothing unusual, right? Until he pulled out his NOODLES! The dude was eating noodles in his car! Now, I understand that with LA traffic, many people like to multitask in the car: have meetings on their cell phones, watch their DVDs, sing along with their music, and on many occasions, eat. All that I understand, but am not a big fan of. In fact, I am guilty of eating many meals in my car. But never have I had the audacity to eat NOODLES! That's crazy! But maybe I'm just not crazy enough. I can barely eat burritos in my car, and those things are hand held. Everything's wrapped up for you all nice and easy and I still have trouble with it.

But this guy had the chopsticks (or fork) and a bowl of noodles. Now that's multitasking. Noodles involve soup...often hot soup. Noodles involve two hands: one holding the bowl, one holding the utensil. This guy was eating noodles.

What's even more odd is that it was only 9am in the morning! Not that I'm dissing noodles for breakfast. I'm sure noodles are good at any time of day, just like breakfast is good for dinner. But the combination of eating noodles at 9 in the morning, in his CAR no less, just made the whole thing quite an unusual sight.

Mr Noodle Man, if you read this...HOLLA BACK.

Dear Readers and Friends,

I have returned, for a brief period in time. Things have been busy in my life, to say the least. However, I am taking a moment to return to my blog, its been neglected and now its getting dusty.

First things first, they have CDs at the library to check out. Sure, I've known about this for a while now, but it's always been the same old thing: operas, classical music, jazz, and the like. Don't get me wrong, I love those three types, but after a while it gets a bit old. However, I recently checked out Justin Timberlake's solo album. Who knew the library was this hip? Not me. I didn't get a chance to peruse the rest of the library collection, but knowing that JT is in the mix is good enough for me to want to go back.

Second of all, TV shows on DVD is great until you start believing you live the life on screen. Whoever decided to put seasons upon seasons of TV shows on DVD must be rolling in money. It's the greatest thing ever: you watch your favorite shows when you want, without the commercial interruptions. No longer do you schedule your life around your favorite shows, you dictate when you want to watch them. Everything is just fine and dandy until you start feeling like you don't get enough in one episode. You have to watch two, or three...or even four. What makes it worse are those damn cliff hangers. You're always thinking, "After this episode, I'll go to bed." But no! Those cliff hangers make you want more, they make you stay up and watch the next episode until whatever the current issue is gets resolved. What are there, like, seven to eight episodes on one disc? Three or more discs in one season? Before you know it, you're up at three am like a zombie trying to figure out why Carrie and Mr. Big had to break up again.

As much as you hate those commercial interruptions, they just might be the best thing for you to keep you sane. It breaks up the drama of a show, giving you doses of our materialistic and capitalistic society in 3 to 4 minute blocks. One minute you're watching Jennifer Garner kick some dude's ass, the next minute you're learning how Celebrex can help change your life, despite the unpleasant side effects (which, is another blog on its own). These doses of reality keep you in check, reminding you that even though Sydney works in Los Angeles, and just because you happen to work and live in Los Angeles and have driven by the same places that she's kicked ass at, you are NOT Sydney Bristow. And when the hour is up, you go back to living your life as a channel changer, not an FBI agent, no matter how much you think you can kick ass according to next week's previews. Especially with those costumes. That's hot.

In the DVD world, it's not so easy to separate life from fantasy. There are no commercial breaks spoon feeding you doses of reality. You're not waiting for an entire week to find out what happens, thriving on 30 second previews throughout the week. (And even then, those previews can be VERY misleading at times...especially on FOX.) In the DVD world, you're on your own. Theres nothing to stop you. Before you know it, you think you're a master ass kicker, even though you've really been the master of sitting on your ass for the last few hours. Or, you're wondering when Big will come back from Paris to sweep you off your feet.

Thus, the question is, "Is TV on DVD the greatest thing in the world? Or is it best to let the networks dictate when you watch your favorite shows?"

In the end, you're typing in front of the computer, watching the words form as you type, asking big open ended questions, pretending to be a hotshot columnist with an obsession for fashion and shoes.

Oh how I wish I had curly hair.

Yesterday on the radio they were making fun of Nicole Kidman because she's afraid of butterflies.

All this time, I thought I was the only one!

There's just something about butterflies that doesn't sit right with me. They just give off a very evil sort of presence, but it's hidden behind their pretty little wings. It's kinda like how bugs are attracted to the zapper. The light seems so alluring, so beautiful, but once you get up closer, ZAP! You're dead. It's just like a butterfly. They seem so pretty, fluttering hither and thither. But once they attack,

ZAP! You're dead.

Ok, so it's not really like that. But it's kinda like that.

I like to feel as though I'm ahead of the game. I'm on to their butterfly secrets. I know them for what they really are: pure evil, while the rest of the world is completely oblivious, drawing them with crayon and tattooing their images on the body. But I know better.

And what about the ones with the eyes on their wings. Ew, creepy. Especially when there's a swarm of them on the trees. If I ever get caught in a butterfly storm, I think I would seriously start crying, in sheer terror.

AMEN.

Whoa! What is going on?

I feel like my blog woke up this morning and decided to recruit itself some readers. So this is what happens when you leave a blog alone for a couple days. I guess my wish of going national/international came true!

But really, how did my audience jump from 3 to 13? I still can't figure out that part. However, I'm enjoying the comments, thanks! I am quite confused, but so very appreciative.

That aside, let's get down to business.

Things I've learned over the past week:

1. Blanket covers are not called blanket covers.
Apparently, they are called "duvets." And no, not just "duvets," it's not that simple. Being a derivative of French, the word "duvet" has the fancy French pronunciation: Du-vay. Never again will I make that mistake, Ms. Aisle Number 6: Bedding. Thanks for saving me from a lifetime of embarrasment.

2. "No cuts, no butts, no coconuts."
I knew better in 4th grade. Cutting in line back then was a big no no. I forgot that very important lesson last night at the grocery store. I met up with Mitch there, and by the time we got in line, I realized I only had 2 items, while he had....a basket full. So I cut in front of him. Later, he informed me that the checkout lady told him he was a special customer who won a $10 gift certificate. It could've been mine, had I not cut in line.
Let this be a very important lesson to all of us.

3. You may not have control over certain situations, but you have control over how you react to them."
I definitely agree, but it's still something I need to work on. I tend to overanalyze and overreact in certain situations, causing myself unnecessary stress, and giving myself unnecessary grief when I should really just move on.


There you go. Three things I've learned this week, which I am now passing along to you.

May you learn from my ignorance.

And yes, I do wear a helmet.

When will this impetuous rain ever stop?

The rain is creating havoc in socal. For instance:

Today it took me an hour to get to work. My car and I were moving at the speed of a mule. I blame the rain.
Today it smelled like a dead rat in the women's bathroom. Don't ask me how I know what dead rats smell like. I blame the rain.
A few minutes ago, there was a loud gunshot like noise near my apartment. Everyone got out to figure out what it was. Our community of single apartments bonded over a gunshot that turned out to be just a transformer blowing up. I blame the rain.
My socks are wet. I blame the rain.
I can't ride my bike. I blame the rain.

I think the rain can hear my blogging, because it just started pouring like mad. Alright alright!! I didn't mean it!!

****
I've been watching movies. Eternal Sunshine and Life Aquatic come to mind. They're different. I like them. It's been a while since I've really enjoyed a movie. That makes me wonder...at school I majored in film. I came out here to be a part of films. And somehow I ended up where I am.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I enjoy my job. I love the people I work with. I feel lucky to even have the kind of job I have. There's really not much for me to complain about. But every once in a while, I start thinking about why I'm doing what I'm doing, and what I want to do. Oh that dreaded question. "What do you want to do?" It's been haunting me ever since highschool. I was hoping by the time I graduated I would know the answer to that question. Well, I do know the answer, I guess I was hoping I would know a different one. The answer is: I DON'T KNOW.

It's like the opening scene in Reality Bites where Winona Ryder is making her speech and she loses her note cards, and her answer to this big question was: I don't know. And the whole crowd cheered for her for having such a wonderful answer to such an important question. Well, where's my cheering section, dammit? Everytime I'm asked that question, and I answer with "I don't know," I'm always secretly hoping for some magical crowd in a corner ready to burst into a standing ovation. And then I can walk across the stage, receive my diploma, throw my hat in the air, and go make out with Ethan Hawk.

So much for that.

In life, the "I don't know" answer always makes me sound incompetent and maybe even a little ditzy. The real answer to them is, "If I knew what I wanted to be doing, I'd be doing it. Or at least going through the necessary steps to get there." Is it so bad that I don't know what I want to be doing? Why would I want to put myself in a corner by giving a definite answer to that question if I want to do and experience everything? There's just so much out there.

But I guess there is a reason behind asking the question. I'm guilty of it myself from time to time. People need direction. Some sort of road map. And answering that dreaded question puts you closer on the map. Or something like that.

One day, I'd still like to become a professional whistler... No one would take me seriously if that was my answer to that dreaded question. But I could either be the next Gwen Stefani (of the whistling world), or I can get sick of it after a month. Who knows? Who ever knows what will happen? So why answer such big questions?

This blog blows.

Holy Cow.

I had no idea Alias was this good. Why didn't anyone tell me sooner? I've already missed what, 2, 3 seasons? Not only is it action packed and engaging, Jennifer Garner is always dressing up in really hot costumes. Boy am I late on this bandwagon.

In other news, I forgot I had 13 going on 30 added to my queue, and it just came today, so I get to watch more Jennifer Garner!

All my plans to take my blog international have now been upstaged by somebody else. Tonight, I'll cry myself to sleep.

I'm obsessed with looking for funiture on craigslist. I need a couch. My apartment is in a constant state of ambiguity due to a lack of furniture. Well, let me correct that, a lack of the proper furniture. I'm at odds with the apartment that is missing a solid foundation with which to begin a proper relationship; that is, a couch. Does my tv go on this wall or that? Depends on where the couch goes. Does my bookshelf go on this side or that? Depends on the couch. What will be the theme/color of my living room? Depends on the color of the couch. So many things are dependent on this couch i don't have.

And the fact that I just blogged a whole paragraph on my materialistic needs while thousands of people are without homes on the other side of the world puts me to shame....Must find a proper charity to donate some money to...

Is it just me, or is it everyone? I'm having trouble enjoying certain things these past few days. Sometimes i'll forget, but every once in a while, I'll remember, and feel guilty for enjoying something while thousands of people can't.

Less complaining, more appreciating.

Alas, it is once again, the new year. A time when people reminisce on the past year, make resolutions for the coming year, and all that bullshit. Well, since you didn't ask for it, here it is, my

TOP TEN SNIPPETS FROM BLOGS OF 2004:

January 19, 2004
In reference to canceling free cable:
"So goodbye, Real World San Diego. Now I'll never know the ways to party it up down there. Goodbye queer guys, oh how i'll miss you and your gay ways. Goodbye Carrie, and the rest of the girls, whom I never got to catch up with during this short time of cable bliss. And soon you and your sex will be gone forever, perhaps only to be rented out at the local video store in chronological seasons. Goodbye MTV music videos all day everyday. My love for you is like whoa."

April 13, 2004
"So i was at the bookstore with steve the other day buying a magazine when the lady handed me my change. I quickly glanced at my quarters and saw that in my pile of change, i had a michigan! And stupidly i yelled out "MICHIGAN!" a little too loudly only to realize too late that i'm suppose to be yelling out stuff like this INSIDE my head, not outside. The lady chuckled at me, i tried to make a joke of it, and was quickly escorted out by steve, who, being the good sport he is, is still my friend despite my embarrassing outbursts."

July 26, 2004
"Are real nerds ever really aware that they're a nerd? My theory is, if you have enough awareness of your nerdiness, then you are aware of your actions. To me, there are several levels of nerdiness, and a real nerd is one that is not aware of how others perceive them. Unless, you self-proclaim yourself to be one in order to fit in with the counter culture folks. Y'know, those who wish to be unconventional and unorthodox in their ways. So if you realize you are a nerd, maybe you're really not a nerd? But if you are a nerd, and you want to counter those who go out of their way to be unconventional, then aren't you really just plain conventional? In one word...normal?"

August 19, 2004
"Isn't it ironic that my initials, SH, coincide with the same initials as Straight Hood? Coincidence? I think not."

August 22, 2004
ALL OF IT

August 23, 2004
"My car, my lovely white corolla with the noise in the back, my place for solitude and safe haven is now SUFFOCATING ME to death with its scent. Everytime i get in my car i'm reminded that it has a new smell. And it's ok for the first 10 minutes or so when i first get in the car. After that, i start getting a headache! I'll either have to roll my windows down, or turn on the ac, but both just makes me cold. While innocent in name and intentions, i do believe this baby powder scent will be the death of me. As much as i love baby powder, whatever that poser scent is in my car is suffocating me, and perhaps i should've gone for the new car smell. I can't even cruise the right way now that i'm so nauseated by this baby powder. Damn you baby powder! I shake my fist at thee!"

August 31, 2004
"People should know when they serve desserts a la mode, that the pastry to ice cream ratio should be equal, if not include more ice cream. Yet, theres always only one scoop of ice cream. What's up with that? Especially if you're sharing...that brings your ice cream ratio down 50%. You would think that it would also bring the pastry ratio down 50%, but for some reason, it just doesn't seem to work that way. So when you're sharing, like we were last night, you just don't get as much ice cream as there should be with such a dessert. I just think people generally like their dessert with more ice cream than pastry. Am i right?"

September 7, 2004
"I once heard someone somewhere say that they really enjoy a nice pair of pants. Perhaps it was in a movie. I'm not really sure where i heard it, but when i did, i felt like i couldn't agree more with another person on a statement. Abortion, religion, politics, these are all things i can get in debates about for hours on end. But enjoying a nice pair of pants? To that i can't say anything more than "Amen, brotha."'

September 21, 2004
"Today i realized i've been with my blog for over three years now. (Don't tell my blog, but i think we're getting serious.) We don't see each other all the time, just when i feel like it, which i think is a nice balance in this sort of relationship. But i'm starting to get a little too attached. Sometimes i blog in my head when i don't have a computer around. (Especially in traffic.) And i tell myself to remember my headblogging but i usually never do. I always come back to this blog. So even when i try to cheat on my blog i can't actually go through with it. I think this is that time in the relationship when that darn four letter word enters the relationship...

i BLOG you."

September 30, 2004
"Orchestra is cool because its the only place you can say "ritard" without offending anyone."

"I'd like to end tonight by reminding you of an old saying in Tennessee, i know its in Texas...probably in Tennessee: " Blog me once, good for you. Blog me twice...great for me."

In reference to the Oct. 9th blog, "God Bless little Alan."

From the Mixed Up Files of 12/26/04:

Tonight, I'm feeling a little like a bag of mixed nuts: contained in a seal-tight pouch, lightly salted. Am I walnut, or cashew? Macadamia, or pistachio? (Seeing how I'm not a big fan of nuts, this assortment is the extent of my nut knowledge.)

I'm waiting for this bag to open so I can see the light of day.

Then, whoever opens this bag of mixed nuts will eat the nuts whole, perhaps one at a time, but the whole bag nonetheless will be digested as one. Then, I wouldn't have to worry about being cashew or macadamia. I would just be the digested blob sitting in someone's stomach. No longer a mix, but a whole.

I sit here tonight in my bedroom at my parent's house with no available computer to blog on, only the pen to paper. I am actually writing, the verb. Not the type of writing that people do on their laptops at Starbucks sipping their tall nonfat caps. No, not typing. I am WRITING. I can't remember the last time I sat down to write solely for writing sake that wasn't done on the computer. I used to handwrite in a spiral bound journal but that has....actually, I don't know what happened to it. I mean, physically I know exactly where it is, but I've stopped writing in it. I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe writing things down became too slow for all the thoughts in my brain and I just found typing to be easier. But I think the real reason could be that one day I just found what I was writing in the journal to be completely pointless and insignificant. The events I wrote about seemed important at the time I wrote it, which should be important enough. But going back and reading the entries, I just found them to be utterly...for lack of a better word....unimportant.

Perhaps that's why I've taken a liking to blogging. I can write about all the insignificant things I want and justify it by calling it a blog rather than some novel or essay or even, a journal entry. I mean, sure blogs these days have taken on completely new meanings and purposes, but back when I started bloggingg, a blog was just some silly weblog I could update on my now lost-within-the-depths-of-the-internet-void website. And I kind of like to keep it that way.

The thing about blogs is that you know your audience for the most part, so divulging the more personal issues seems hardly appropriate and rather impersonal over a blog. To solve this issue- this carthartic need to solve one's issues by writing while still remaining somewhat impersonal as to not offend those who are closest to you- I seemed to have developed a wonderful knack for creating analogies as code for my life. This leaves people who stumble upon these amazingly fine crafted analogies to try and decipher what it all really means, which, brings me back to my bag of nuts.

I am a bag of mixed nuts.

December 27, 2004
1:07 am

AHEM

(In one act, to be read in my most brilliant British accent:)


To the Mr. and/or Miss who wishes to remain anonymous:

Stop it, I say! Stop the bloody madness!

I understand time is indeed, valuable. However, if you were so kind to spare those few moments to read my blog, AND!, post a comment on my blog, I do daresay that you would have an extra two seconds to kindly type out your name on said comment. I realize the need to be discreet in this blubbering environment our leaders like to call "Internets," but let me assure you ever so firmly that we are amongst friends here at Daily Banterings. There is no need whatsoever to fear acknowledgement of your presence. In fact, your presence would be rather welcomed, if we're ever to uncover your true identity. That is not to say that your mysterious practices of remaining anonymous is unwelcomed. No. I only use the word "would" to be GC, that is, gramatically correct. Please know that never would I, nor any members of my staff here at DB discriminate against such actions.

Truth be told, I may already have the key to your secret identity. However, my fellow readers may have the need (as well as the right) to know who amongst them is sharing in the reading of this little bit of delight that has been so brilliantly crafted to perfection, aka, DB. Should my readers choose to engage in debate with a fellow DB reader on matters discussed only in DB, who will they turn to? Certainly not to an unidentified entity.

Thus, you see, dear sir and/or madam, I ask this bit of you not solely for my own narcissistic needs, but for the good of the people, my readers, and all of humanity.

Sincerely Yours,

The DB Editor in Chief

Bruckner, to your left. It's been taken care of.

I haven't blogged in a while. I'm in a blog slump. Sometimes I can blog more than once a day, other times, like now, I can barely blog once a week. I don't know what it is, I guess i'm just in a slump.

who are these so called anonymous people that comment on my blog?
show yourself! or prepare...to die.

~inigo montoya

Ahhh...........

It's so great to have friends show up when and where you least expect them. It was like i had my own entourage. Now i know how jlo must feel. An apple pie a la mode and a few bites of some wonderful deep fried fish later, I am content in my room with the way things went tonight, as is my stomach.

I stopped by Amoeba tonight to pick up one cd, and I came home with three. Now i understand why and how people can spend hours in that store. It's madness. Walking down the aisles of cds, i felt a little out of place there in my jeans and black cardigan amongst the trendy LA punk crowd. Looking around, i realized i lack an "edge." The kind of edge that would tell muggers on the streets to not mess with me. Hopefully that will be solved in the next couple months with a self defense class. Hi-ya!

Napoleon Dynamite comes out on Dec. 21st. I can't wait!!!

WHAT TIME IS IT?!?!?!

Ok, pop quiz: How many Whoppers do you have to eat before you can get your Spongebob watch?

Right now, readers across the world are shouting out numbers. But, aha! Those of you who are smart will know that this is a trick question! The answer to that is: You can't get a Spongebob watch anywhere!

At least thats the conclusion i've come to. One crispy chicken sandwich, one whopper, and one jr. whopper with no mayo later, I am finally sporting the Patrick watch from Burger King. The King seems to be low on these watches, cause boy are they hard to find. I couldn't even pick the one I wanted, I had to go with the only one they had in stock, Patrick. That's not a diss to Patrick or anything, I just wanted the blue Spongebob more.

But i have to say, this was a great way to spend $1.99. Not only do you get a reversible watch, it even comes with a tin case!! You can put anything in it! Your watch, some marbles, a rectangular peanut butter sandwich if your name is Mitch, bobby pins, mini nunchucks, chopsticks, and really, anything you can think of.

*****
Today I made a visit to my new local library. Boy, its a nice one. And, better yet, they're open on Sundays!! I get so excited in libraries, what with all the potential books i can check out. Except, I couldn't get a library card today because I didn't have proof of my current address, and I had to leave empty handed. EMPTY HANDED!! I looked up some potential books, and lingered in the front lobby a bit reading all the local announcements before leaving and hanging my head in disappointment.

I've got to get my hands on that library card.

*****
Lately I've been having lots of celebrity sightings. (well, their level of celebrity is debatable.) First Jared Leto, then Pauly Shore, again at Ikea. ("stop squeezing the ju-ooze!") And then across the street at work, Quentin Tarantino walked by me. The lady in front of me asked for an autograph, but he declined, and proceeded to walk away. Haha.

Perhaps my dry celebrity sighting spell is over?

Hello readers! I have returned (momentarily). I've recently moved, and my dsl isn't up and running yet, thus for my lack of blogs.

First things first.

I saw Jared Leto in person!! Who knew that he shops at Ikea? And, i really do believe it was some magical force that drove me to walk down his checkout isle. Going backwards at ikea is not so easy. Trying to find a checkout isle to walk through is not so easy. But who knew the one isle i picked to walk down would contain the body of one Mr. Jared Leto? My childhood dreams came true. (ok, more like post teen dreams, but whatever. Every girl wants jordan catalano at any age.) As i walked by him i gave him a quick once over, which, i think he caught me doing. So then i quickly walked through the self service warehouse to find the nearest corner to hide, so to better check him out from afar. Boy, he looked as good as he does on TV. Yum.

Second things second.

I've been watching a lot of sex in the city lately due to this new blockbuster dvd rental thing i've signed up for. Sometimes, i feel like my blogs are like Carrie's weekly columns. Except, she gets paid to write about sex. And, she gets paid enough to provide her with a comfortable one bedroom in NYC and plently left over for her oh so chic manolos. Whereas i blog for the hell of it. That leaves me wondering: if Carrie lived in our world, would she still have her job as a writer? Now that blogs are read, written, and accessible everywhere, is there even the need for a sex columnist anymore?

(cut to: fade out)

Ok, just imagine that last paragraph read with a voice over, and that last sentence being typed across the screen, ala Doogie Howser. Sometimes i wonder if I could be the next Carrie? Except, I'm really a Miranda with a dash of Charlotte.

As usual, the blogs that have over filled my head the past couple weeks have now disappeared, and I can't think of a thing to blog about.

Wait til i get my dsl back, then i'll be back up to blogging speed in no time.

Gobble gobble, happy turkey day!

Tonight i blog, with a little less wisdom than usual.

My wisdom has been plucked out of my mouf earlier this week. Since then, it's sucked big time. I can't open my mouth more than a quarter of an inch. If i talk too much my jaw starts hurting. I can't even stick my toothbrush all the way in my mouth to brush my tongue. My tongue has to come out of the mouth to meet the toothbrush. I have cuts and scars around my mouth that makes me look like Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas. I might as well shave my head and start wearing a suit. And the worst part of it all is that i've been on a soup diet. For those of you who know my passion for eating, you know how deeply this is hurting me...and my tummy. I can't wait til i can gnaw on something again...chew something solid, rather than nibble with my two front teef. Or cruch down on some nachos. Have some chicken wings. Scarf down some killer peruvian food.

Stop it! I'm just teasing myself with things i can't have. I can be so cruel sometimes.

This morning in the shower, my right thumb punched my cheek. Boy did that hurt. Usually my cheek can withhold a simple blow from the thumb, but in its wounded condition, it hurt like a mother. The incident is being called a "pure accident," but really, i think my thumb had ulterior motives (I believe it was taking orders from my stomach if you ask me....).

I, for one, love soup. But really, how much soup can one person have before it starts to hate the things that one loves? And this chipmunk look? Boy, that has got to go. It's clashing with my short chops. (Hair that is, not pork...mmm....pork...)

When will the madness end?????

Argh...I hate rude people.

I went to get gas tonight after work, around the corner by my house. It was busy, so everyone was waiting in lines...kinda like those pictures you see during wartime where people are wating in lines for gas....ironic...
Anyway, I was behind this car that was finishing up, and right as i was about to pull up to the pump, this jerk in a black car pushed through from my left side! At first i thought he was just trying to get through the busy gas station to get to an exit, but he ended up cutting right in front of me. It was maddening!

Maddening i say!!!

I honked a few times, but you know my corolla, sometimes its better not to honk at all with that wimpy meep meep. So then i stopped my car, got out, and started yelling at him (ok, not yell, but questioned him loudly). I said, EXCUSE ME!! THERE IS A LINE HERE! EVERYONE IS WAITING IN LINE! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU"RE DOING? He completely ignored me. Then the guy that was waiting in line behind me got out of his car and started yelling at him too, and they ended up face to face, talking in a different language, and all of a sudden, this bigger man who i thought was going to put the jerk back in his place, completely backed off. His wife looked like she was about to lunge at the jerk too, but he turned her around and they went back into the car. I was so enraged, but after seeing the big man back off, i had all these thoughts about the jerk being part of the mob (he had a black car and was dressed all in black), so i backed off too. All i could do was sit back in my car, seething through clenched teeth, staring at the jerk. He stared back and i could see a smile in his eyes because he knew i couldn't do anythign about it. Aargh! People can be such jerks.

I wonder how i would hold up against the victory blvd mob. Not so well i'm guessing...

Ditto!

Remeber ditto sheets in elementary school? I had completely blocked those out of my brain until i heard it on the radio this past saturday. ("This American Life", 10am saturday mornings, KCRW, Check it!) I know i've talked about this show before, but i'll probably keep talking about it. It's the greatest radio program that i've had the pleasure of finding so far. I find myself waking up on saturday mornings and cruising in my car, destination: anywhere, just so i can listen to this show. Alright, ok, i don't just cruise around aimlessly in my car, i usually have some sort of errand to run. But it sure makes my errands or coffee run or trips to OC alot more engaging.

So back to ditto sheets. Um...well, i guess i don't have too much to say about it, just that i had completely forgotten about them until now. Oh yea, and first grade cement glue was the best stuff ever. Probably cause i got a mini high from loving the smell of it so much. To this day, the smell of cement glue makes me happpppppyyyyyyyyyyy!

I'm a poser.

I speak of plans to go national...or someday even global, but alas, when it comes down to it, going metropolitan is even too much for me. Schumacher has exposed me, and i feel naked.

Oh well. At least there won't be any unwanted tan lines.

Tonight i ran into this guy that i was in a musical with a couple years ago. A couple meaning one and a half...
Turns out we are working across the street from each other. It's amazing how many people end up in this city. But i guess in this field, LA is the best place to be.

In other news, there was more upstairs sex last night. I don't know whats more annoying...loud electric guitar next door in the middle of the night , or loud rhythmic banging (not a pun, more of an onomatopoeia really) from upstairs. Hm...
Tough to tell. But at least with guitar playing, i'm not hiding under my blankets fearing that the ceiling will crash down on me any second...along with a bed and two naked people. Sigh...the joys of living in a lower instead of an upper apt. If i'm crushed to death one day, you can say you read about it first, right here.

RIP S.H.W
May she live in an upper, up there.

Are doods who work at starbucks also called barristas?

Today i saw a tiny dog walking around in four tiny pink high top sneakers. Two pairs. High tops. Pink! If only my own shoes were so fashionable.