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.