Friday, April 30, 2004

Welcome to Adulthood, Part 1.5

You will have to get your own health insurance because your new job won't cover you right away. You will try to brave it without insurance, but the years of a fast-food diet, alcohol, no sleep and cigarettes will soon catch up on you. You will remember something your mom said long ago about not getting onto an airplane without having health insurance. You will pay hundreds of dollars to cover yourself in the interim, but you'll never get sick.

You will have to bid goodbye to the snooze button. Alas, it's been good while it lasted, old friend.

You will have to start wearing a watch. You will have to get batteries for said watch.

You will start watching the news for the weather report. You will dress appropriately. You may even find yourself uttering these words: "Nice weather we're having." or "It says it's going to rain through Tuesday." Everyone will understand what you mean by "It".

You will save time in the morning by pulling your hair back and letting it air-dry in the car on the way to work. You will stop wearing colored eyeshadow. You will settle into a basic beauty routine that just includes powder and mascara. You will look tired.

You will look forward to lunch. After lunch, you will look forward to the appearance of the cookie cart at 3:00. You will treat yourself to a chocolate chip cookie every day. You will gain 10 pounds. You will discuss this fact with your co-workers every day at 3:00 when you are buying your next cookie.

You will know when your paycheck is coming, how much you will need to pay your bills, and how much you will have left over. You will begin saving for a much-needed vacation.

Things I assume to be true:

1. If we have just finished eating, I am certain that a poppy seed or some small bit of roll has lodged itself between my front tooth and the one to its right. If you are a friend, I will ask you for a "lunch check." If you are not, I will excuse myself immediately following the meal. No, I am not bulimic, but thanks for asking.

2. If you grab at your nose while talking to me, I will do the same. This will launch a war of wipes that is likely to disgust any passers by. Keep your hands away from your nose when you are talking to me in order to avoid this mutual embarrassment.

3. If a fart wafts into the room, sometimes I will ignore it. This follows the "Whoever smelt it, dealt it." theory. Sometimes, I will wave my arms in the air and ask, "Whose butt is THAT?" Don't answer me if it wasn't you. "Whoever denied it, supplied it."

more later....

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

Retrospect can kiss my ass. It's been over 3 hours. The damn computer crashed 4 times. The DVD Ram was spat out 2 times. I think the whole thing is wrong and useless. I hate Retrospect with the venom of a thousand three headed snakes. I hate it worse than getting a splinter under my fingernail, a piece of bark in my eye, or a spider in my bed.

There have been a lot of near-misses on the street outside our apartment. Almost daily, I am distracted by screeching brakes and the honking of horns. Two days ago, these events were joined by the unmistakable crunch of impact. It wasn't that bad. Just some fender and grill damage. Later that day while sitting on the front porch, I witnessed a near head-on collision. Although all 3 cars left the scene unscathed, my mind conjured up a fiery inferno of a crash that sent one car up on the lawn and ignited the tree nearby. I've got to stop watching so many disaster movies.
Personally, I've been involved in four automobile accidents with me behind the wheel, one where I was the passenger, and one where my car was parked outside a fast food restaurant (I was mid-"I'll have a number 3 with cheese..." when I heard the crunch and my car alarm alerted me to the jackass who was trying to make a quick getaway). The first accident was a three-car pile up. I was third. We were going about 10 miles per hour, so only fenders were hurt. The second was at the merge of Rte 3 and Rte 46 in Jersey. Once again, all cars were going about 2 miles per hour. I bumped the Honda in front of me while I was trying to get into the next lane. No damage to her car, but she called me all the curse words I learned in Spanish class and claimed to have whiplash. The third was on a rainy Sunday night in college. I was on my way home from the hotel where I worked. The streets were flooded. A pick-up truck with monster wheels lost control and came into my lane. His large spinning wheels shaved a few inches off of the front left corner of my hood. We both got out and stood there for a minute in the downpour. I said, "Don't worry about it." He said, "Really?" The fourth should have been my last. There is no conceivable reason why I should have been allowed to survive. I hit a truck tire in the fast lane on a six lane highway. My front axle broke immediately. The steering wheel was rendered useless. It was rush hour. After crossing over all 6 lanes utterly out of control, the car hit a tree, slid back down the hill onto the highway again, crossed over 3 more lanes, and finally came to a rolling stop. Miraculously, all of the other drivers on the road were able to avoid my little white car throughout its adventure to and fro. I emerged more than a little shaken up. The CalTrans guy in an orange jumper who ran onto the highway to check on me said, "Wow. I can't believe you're not dead." I lost it. I think he felt bad for saying that.
Now, I drive like a grandma - slow and steady. My car actually has great pick up and can go really fast, but I've learned my lesson. I'm the one who gets over into the right hand lane a mile before the exit and waits patiently in the conga line of cars. I let people cut in front of me. You could fit an SUV in the space I leave in front of my car and behind the one I'm following. I never fail to use my signal. Tires in the road make me itch. Whenever a car comes peeling up the street in front of my house, I want to scream out loud, yell at them for being in such a rush, and turn the hose on them. With the way things are going lately on our street, I wouldn't be surprised if my fiery death inferno vision comes true. I just hope T$ and I are not sitting on the front porch when it happens.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

What happened to our haloscan? I am lost without my internet friends!

Speaking of internet friends, I just got off the phone with FH (my BFF from high school). She's our host during the upcoming NYC trip. I told her about you T.A.B., and there is some concern that you are T$'s serial killer. I tried to ease the fear, but sometimes it's hard to ease someone's fear after just stating, "We have dinner plans on Friday night with this guy we met on the internet who won't tell us his real name." Some people are so sensitive. Anyway, FH wants to know where we are planning to meet. Under the Brooklyn Bridge? - bad. At a crowded restaurant with a half dozen friends in tow for back up? - good.

Monday, April 26, 2004

Catcalls. really? Are we living in the 1940's? Don't you think us girls have outgrown the need for catcalls? Better yet, wouldn't you think construction unions would grow tired of the stereotype? This morning as we were driving to school, T$ and I were stopped at a light. An apartment building sits half-erected on our right. As do two construction workers. Now, they are about 30 feet away from our car. That's right, our car. How much of a person is in view from that distance when they are sitting in a car? My chin. My ponytail. T$'s neck, chin, and ponytail. (She's taller) I mean, I'd understand it if we were walking across the street. Boobs sometimes garner a catcall. (Sometimes a "God Bless America," as you well know) Chins do not.

Sunday, April 25, 2004

It's hotter than the fires of hell in our apartment. Brain. cannot.

But, here's a quiz - Happy Sunday!

What Video Game Character Are You? I am a Defender-ship.I am a Defender-ship.

I am fiercely protective of my friends and loved ones, and unforgiving of any who would hurt them. Speed and foresight are my strengths, at the cost of a little clumsiness. I'm most comfortable with a few friends, but sometimes particularly enjoy spending time in larger groups. What Video Game Character Are You?

Saturday, April 24, 2004

I picked my car up from the shop. Then, I picked a friend's mom up and took her to the beach yesterday. It was a delightful So CA day. Then, we had to call a tow truck to pick our asses up and take us back to the shop. Stupid #$**@ing car. We took pictures of ourselves in the tow truck. This'll be a vacation to remember.

Thursday, April 22, 2004

I took the bus today. Usually, I love public transportation, but the LA metro system is not as convenient as it is in other parts of the country like NY or Atlanta. Upon finding a seat I immediately found a small knat sucking on my arm. I swear to God if I get head lice from the bus, I will have a hairy conniption. Then, the guy next to me sneezed. All. over. me. Buddy, didn't your mom teach you to cover your mouth? I'm now a walking disease. And T$ is at the beach today. I'm not bitter at all.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

How many first dates you know of that have started out with an apology? It's not a good sign. "I am so sorry that all you know about me is 1) that I like sweet girly liquor drinks and 2) that I lied to you during the one and only phone call we shared." I thought it was simple and harmless. I cannot go out on Monday because of "school stuff" sounded much kinder than I cannot go out on Monday because "I will be rocking to the sounds of a metal cover band, pointer and pinkie akimbo, screaming at the top of my lungs to 'Here I Go Again' and 'Livin' on a Prayer.'" I was busted. I am sorry. The date went well after that, though.....

Leif Garret was there too. I forget how to do a link, so no link for you.

What the fuck is up with LA? It's a big city, right? I am drunk. I told some dude that I couldn't go out with him tonight because of "school stuff." I scheduled the date for Tuesday. Then, I go out tonigy (I had plans, but didn't want to invite him or want to hurt his feelings) and DUDE - he's there! At the Roxy. On Sunset Boulevard. In a city of a hundred million people! I feel like an asshole. I so don't want to go on this date tomorrow....

Monday, April 19, 2004

We could use a few suggestions on the haps of NYC. It's true, I did grow up in Northern NJ, but my trips into NY can be summed up into 3 categories:

1. Christmas with the family. This event usually took place the first week of December. It was the only time truancy was allowed. As we left the house and piled into the family car, my mom would be asking, "Does everyone have their gloves?" The 6 of us would hit Rockefeller Center, gaze up at the tree, and breathe into our scarves. We'd check out the window display at Macy's. Of course, St Patrick's cathedral was a given. Finally, we'd end up at FAO Schwartz and never buy anything. This is one of my most prized memories.

2. Birthdays with my best friend FH. One year, we went to see the Rockettes at MSG. One year, we saw a show - it was probably Cats. One year, we took 12 of our friends to the Hard Rock Cafe. Sometimes we just went shopping.

3. Underage debauchery. Do you remember the Limelight? I had my first kiss there. It was a nasty sight - all tongue and mustache. I must have been 15. There's also this bar called McGee's near the Ed Sullivan theatre. Twenty of us could get in with just one bad fake ID. We'd stumble home on the PATH, take the train, and end up sleeping on my friend's floor in Clifton.

So, it's been awhile since I've lived there. Any adult suggestions welcomed......

Saturday, April 17, 2004

I am the best wingman ever! Seriously, I should rent myself out for parties and special events. The sad thing about being the wingman is that you get delegated to the B-storyline. I am subplot. T$ was the main event. I do have to work on my technique. Just blurting out, "Why don't you two make out?" will not work in many more situations. And, as if God were punishing me for my talents, my car developed a huge oil leak today. Grr.....

Friday, April 16, 2004

An update on last night's adventure:
I go to the screening. It's great. Kevbo's movie rocks. Ron's movie rocks. I really should get the hell out of there as soon as the post-screening reception starts, but I cannot turn down free wine. The wine sucks. But it's free, and it gets you trashed with just one sip. After one glass of wine, I want to hug everybody. So I do. Finally, it's 11pm. The airport post office closes at 11:59pm. It is about 25-30 minutes away. I mention to J Dz that I have to make the journey to the westside. His face drains of all color. "Taxes are due today?" I offer him a ride to the airport. It's now 11:15pm. J Dz wants to "say goodbye" to a few people. That's code for: "There's a few people here that may want to meet up with me later and I have to check it out." I'd like to think I'm good at deciphering boy code. Perhaps I'm not, but 9 times out of 10 my instincts are right. Finally, it's 11:30pm. I leave without J Dz. See ya sucka. Traffic's not bad. I get there at 11:54pm. There is a line of cars moving slowly along the street outside the entrance to the post office. When I get closer, I see that the drivers are all rolling by and chucking their envelopes into a big bin sitting on the sidewalk. There is an assortment of envelopes all around the bin - evidence of somebody with bad aim. I decide not to chance it. I drive into the lot and park my car. People are running. Some are pushing. Channel 4 news is there. I dodge the camera. Some young guy steps up to the even bigger bin on the curb outside the post office. He slam-dunks his tax return and raises his arms in victory. This gets me hot. I'm standing behind two old men who are ready to smackdown. The strangest things bring out the hate in some people. It's 11:57pm. Mission accomplished. I roll on through the BK drive-thru and munch on french fries the entire way home.

Thursday, April 15, 2004

I make my own life harder all the time. Today, I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. Then at 5pm, I decided to do my taxes. It was easy. Done is about 15 minutes. So, it's April 15th and it's late in the day......Why not go get a drink and sit out on the front porch? After coming back inside, I call the 1-800-ASK-USPS line to get the hours of operation for my local post offices. They're closed and/or closing right now. Right this second. TS sucka. I have a screening to go to tonight, so instead of boozing it up with the crew afterwards, I will be driving my ass to the airport post office to hand deliver my tax returns by midnight. Anyone else out there this big of a jackass?......[crickets].....I thought not.

Monday, April 12, 2004

Following T$'s lead, here are a few things that are underrated:

1. New Jersey and you. Perfect together.
2. Warm baths by candlelight.
3. Cranking up the stereo and singing along.
4. Having your car start every morning like it was no big deal.
5. The way T$ takes out the trash and doesn't yell at me for never doing it.

Saturday, April 10, 2004

I just got off the phone with my best high school friend in Jersey. We will call her French Hats - FH for short. She has known me for 16 years. God, that makes me sound so old. Her biggest strength is to tell it like it is. Here are a few things I learned from her today:

1. Not everyone has a full 6 inches of cleavage. Enjoy it while the girls are still up there.

2. When a boy picks flowers for you, the most incorrect response is, "Whatever, dude." The ball is now in my court.

3. Watch my back around crazy women. (She doesn't mean us, T$. You and I are the good kind of crazy, I think, but FH may correct me on that.)

Warning to you all: I am blogging drunk....
Saw "Hellboy" tonight. It was awesome! Now, JB has expressed that it sucked. I know what he means - the dialogue is awkward, the whole "you have a choice" thing is so after school special, and the 3rd act makes no sense. But, dear friend JB, SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF. It's a comic book that pokes fun at itself! The serpent thing is queer - not gay queer, but dumb queer. I had fun watching it. It was funny. Anyway, we went to Boardner's afterward. I love that old man bar. I cannot tell you what ha[ppened next because I'm still in a state of shock and I think my ass is going to get kicked and I didn't even do aything.....I'm going to bed now.

Friday, April 09, 2004

Grammar God!
You are a GRAMMAR GOD!

If your mission in life is not already to
preserve the English tongue, it should be.
Congratulations and thank you!

How grammatically sound are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I know the grammar rules. I just choose not to follow them.

I took a joyride to Burbank today. Actually, I went up to Fry's Electronics to purchase some ethernet cable. Yes, that's right, today became DSL installation day the moment I couldn't seem to make any headway on my movie credits (see below). So I drive up there. Have you ever been to Fry's? I love it. Perhaps I should have dressed down for the occasion since the skirt and heels ensemble was a bit out of place there. Anyway, I go straight to the cable aisle (thanks to JB for the handy map!) and pick up two different lengths of ethernet cable - one for me and one for T$. Then, I swing by the CD-R aisle and picked up a bulk pack of CD-R's and cases. (Dude. The sound window is ripping me off with their buck-a-CD!) I also grab a BNC adapter for J Dz since he asked me to pick him up something special, and what says love more than BNC? On to the story.....I get in line to checkout. There's this lady on a ladder directing you to the next checkout. It's kinda like the monitor at the bank that points you to the next available teller. At this point I should tell you that there are about 40 people working behind the checkout counter. Many are chatting, some are working, others are biting their nails. I am directed to cashier number 15. I go to #15. Some dude cuts the huge checkout line and steps in front of me. The cashier blatantly ignores him and starts to ring my items up. Eventually, the line-cutter wanders away. I have 5 items - bulk pak CD-R's, bulk pak cases, BNC adapter, 2 ethernet cables. The cashier rings four of the items up. She points at the longest ethernet cable. "This doesn't have a price on it," she states. She hands it to me. I stand there. She looks up, "Do you still want it?" The question catches me off guard. I picked it up off the shelf, right? I carried it all the way to the checkout, right? I placed it on the counter with the rest of my merchandise, right? What in this scenario makes this lady think that I no longer want to purchase the item? I nod. "Well, there's no price marked on it," she adds. "I still want to purchase it," I confirm. She looks at me squarely, "But there's no price on it. I don't know how much it costs." Is it me, or is this not my problem? I remind you that there are about 40 people standing around behind her all "working" at the Fry's Electronics. Can't somebody look up the price? I'm sure there's a SKU number on the item. A big book of prices, maybe? Somebody can pick up a phone and page the guy working in the cable aisle to ask for the price. Better yet, Nail Biter behind you can walk on over to the cable aisle and look for the price. None of these thoughts cross the cashier's mind. Finally, I say, "I'll go back and check the price." And she says, "Well, I'll have to void this transaction to take another customer, and you'll have to get back in line." Can I give this woman the finger? Instead, I say, "Forget it. I'll just take the other items." I finish the transaction and get the hell out of there. Long story short - T$, I was unable to secure a long ethernet cable for you today. Believe me, I tried. Stupid Fry's employee.

Nobody knows anything! This morning started out with the simple quest of calling CIC (Continental Imaging Company) to inquire about their hours of operation today - since it's Good Friday, and I'm not sure if religious holidays require a day off anymore. Christmas is a given, but people work during Hanukkah, or is it Chanukah? Do you get the day off for Passover? Is Los Angeles primarily Jewish or Christian? Does anyone celebrate anything anymore? These are all questions to which I don't have the answers. Anyway, I looked in the LA 411 for CIC's number. Not there. I called 411. The operator didn't have it. I looked it up online in both the Yahoo yellow pages and a Google search. Nada. Finally, I called SPO. Nothing. While I was on the phone with the dude from SPO I asked, "Do you have the Clairmont Camera and Dolby Digital logos?" The dude said, "No. You would think we would have them." You think? I think! Why is it ultimately impossible to get anything accomplished in this god-forsaken town?!?!

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

The sound department is the black hole of time. I got here at 1pm. It's now 6:45pm. I got one thing accomplished during that entire time. I did get to hear Luke's movie about 8 times. Stupid NTSC conversion. Why can't we be PAL. 25fps for film and television sounds like an excellent idea to me. I've had enough of this 30fps is almost 24fps and video is 29.97fps. Pull down and pull up can go to hell. God Bless America.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

We were sitting around discussing the inevitable fact that our apartment could crumble to the ground beneath our feet. I mean, every time I take a shower I plan an escape route in the event that the tub goes crashing through to the apartment below. I'd hate to fall naked on top of my downstairs neighbor. Actually, that might be funny. So, the convo got around to, "If the apartment caught on fire, what would you try to save?" T$ answered, "My computer......and my bed." Now, the thought of Tamara, mattress slung over her back, dragging the thing down the stairs while the apartment burns to the ground is enough to send me into a fit of giggles.
hee. hee.
Okay. I thought. And thought. "The box full of old film projects and my box of pictures," I finally answered. As for the rest of the stuff - GOOD RIDDANCE. bed? see ya. couches? see ya. computer? don't let the door hit you on the way out. clothes? burn in hell. The way I see it, a tremendous house fire would clean up my rubble of a life. I'd start over from scratch....catch you later Los Angeles!

The pigeons on the next roof are attacking each other. It's four on one. I've got my money on the one. He looks scrappy. Our jasmine is finally blooming. I can't wait for the scent to overtake the porch this summer. A humming bird visited the hanging plant. It took some nectar from a few white flowers and then tried to get some from the Christmas lights that are still hanging out there. He dive-bombed me. I freaked out and came inside.

Monday, April 05, 2004

Let's talk about my back burner. Everything is on it until the end of May. That's the ETA for copies of my movie to be ready for the ol' festival circuit. So until then, these things have to be neglected:

1. Laundry. All of my jeans and t-shirts are filthy. I've been wearing a skirt and heels to school every day. When I run out of those, I'll start arriving in ball gowns. My prom dress is flapper-style, but my boobs have grown since then. I also have a size 2 wedding dress in the closet. It's left over from the wardrobe department from my movie. It'll be tight. All the boys will run away screaming.

2. Installing DSL. We got it two weeks ago, and I haven't installed it yet. I know it won't take long. I'm just a jackass.

3. Painting my room. I bought the paint and the painting supplies. Everything is sitting in the middle of the living room.

4. Going to the dentist. I have a cavity, I just know it.

5. Consolidating my student loans. So, I owe Uncle Sam the big bucks. He can wait.....about 30 years to get it all back.

There's a ton more stuff on the back burner, but it's so far back there that I forget all about it. I'm sure someone will remind me sooner or later.

Saturday, April 03, 2004

Boys this is an official warning: Do not read this.
Some girls who don't like Too Much Information: Do not read this.

I had to one-up T$, didn't I?

Anyway, the scene went down like this. Tars picks me up at my house. She drives me to the Westside. We park in front of an ordinary office building. I start getting nervous. Once inside what looks like a normal doctor's office, a young woman asks, "Who wants to be first?" I volunteer. If not, I would have bolted the minute I was left alone. I follow the young woman into the smallest room imaginable. There is a table in there covered in white waxed paper. She says, "Take off your skirt and get on the table." She leaves. I obey. She returns with a glass of water for me. I chug it. I tell her, "This is my first time." She begins. Mid-procedure she starts in with the personal questions, "Are you married? dating? what happened? how long were you together when you broke up?" It is all very uncomfortable. I pray for it to end quickly. She tells me her life story, "I'm 21. I'm engaged. I am studying to be a doctor. you don't think he's going to dump me, do you?" I don't know how to respond. I nod, add a few "Mmm Hmm's" and basically clench my teeth the entire time. This 21 year old girl has been more intimate with me than anyone in my entire life. I think her name is Monica, but I can't be certain. Finally, it's over. I get dressed and return to the waiting room. I hand over the 25 bucks. I stop and think for a bit. How much do you tip for a Brazillian bikini wax? I give her a 10 spot, grab Tars, and run out the door. Much to my surprise, I think the entire uncomfortable event was worth it. That doesn't mean that I won't dread it, but I think I'm hooked. I recommend it to all the ladies out there.

That is all.

Boys: You can read again.
Girls who don't like TMI: You can also read again.

Friday, April 02, 2004

It seems like we can never get away from this man/woman topic. Here are a few of my most recent thoughts....
I wish that it would be acceptable to call someone over to snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie without it meaning anything more than that. Sometimes I just want to caress someone's neck. I think I should be allowed to.
Does that make me a tease? I think so.
That's exactly the reason why I haven't made that phone call. Plus, I wouldn't know who to call.
Does that make me pathetic? I think so.
Also, I would like a good old fashioned make-out session. Nothing more.
Does that make me hard to read? I think so.
I think there ought to be more sampling and less waiting around to find the perfect fit. All this time could be better spent going out dancing and smooching, but then someone usually gets their feelings hurt because one always gets more attached than the other. So, I choose not to go out at all.
Does that make me a sad loser? I think so.

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