when the computer screen is very dirty and i have to blow cat hair out of the keyboard, i know i've been neglecting things. not just things like keeping a random journal or whatever, but like, all the verbal diarrhea in my head.
the fact is, i get older and wonder sometimes what it is i have to say... to anyone at all. i've gotten so much quieter over the years. this has come as a complete shock to me, as i've always considered myself just intelligent enough on just enough subjects to qualify as a complete asshole. i'm direct, i'm opinionated, and i sound angry a lot of the time. it's no surprise to me when a friend tells me how intimidating i used to be to them, or when they relay some variation on how mean/bitchy/scary i appeared to be when we first met. it's just my way. that's not an apology for it, but rather, a recognition that my personality tends to have some sharp edges. once you get past that, you figure out that i'm nothing but a hard candy shell with a squishy inside. like a burnt marshmallow.
damn. what exactly is the funk on this screen? if you're thinking the same thing right now, we should both go find something to wipe off the whatnot.
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]
GXCV J
"?MJHN M.;.LMJHGTJU[4023.,0524145320.[p;o96trh6y78754567ul;.kjhgtfrdef
...and the keyboard. that was at least one layer gone, whatever it is. i mean, i don't actually recall taking a bunch of weird dusty shit and throwing it at the screen, but one never knows. do they? do you know what torture you've put your machines through over the years? me neither. that is to say, the torture i'm aware of is probably not as bad as the actual crap i've done to them, coffee included.
burnt marshmallow, right? that's where i was. i'll have to come back to that another time. my burnt layer has a tendency to fall off and leave all the squish exposed when i'm least expecting it, and once the squish starts to drip, well... that's a whole other horror movie.
besides, i keep a little for myself so that i'll keep the motivation to get it out of my head. i've heard it said that you shouldn't describe your plans for things - a story you're writing, a business you're planning, a thing you wanna get done - in too much detail. the idea behind this is that if you spend all your time talking about a thing, you never actually get the thing to happen. on the other hand, if you declare the thing should happen, that you really want it, but keep some things about it to yourself, you've committed to it publicly and have to hold yourself responsible, but you still have the details inside just bursting to get out and make some noise. speaking from experience, this seems rather plausible to me. the more "plans" i make aloud, the less i actually get done. by saying "i'm gonna do such and such maybe sometime, and here's what should happen with it," i tend to negate my need to take action on the matter. in my head, it's already been worked out and sorted, so my brain makes ever-increasingly dumb excuses as to why i can lay about and be lazy. i'm already naturally lazy. i don't need any help with that trait.
so what's the next thing i have planned? according to my own advice, i should say something very general, but then leave the rest as a mystery. so here it is...
next project:
new to-do list with big, long goals - HA!
21 March 2017
24 April 2012
art of the month club
whew! this month has been packed with arts stuff. i've finished up the spring session, put on a performance showcase, set up a gallery exhibition, held auditions for emergence project, and almost have the summer session stuff ready to get out there. that doesn't even include any of the things i've supposedly been working on for myself.
my script frenzy maiden voyage has stalled at about thirty pages so far. as satia told me, the fact that i've even committed to an attempt makes me good for it. yeah, that's right... i'm a weiner! if only i can churn out the other seventy percent in the next week, then i'll be totally golden. on the other hand, i have made some effort to start entering into short play contests. if i can get produced, how many pages does that count for?
so, i'm also the project director on ep for the third year running. i can't honestly see how i'm gonna get burnt out on this anytime soon, because each year the kids who are involved keep me so excited about the project. are they neurotic and making some creative mistakes? that's what is called a new director in my book. the writers are being great about lending moral support, and my bevy of emails to the whole crew (which should really count as another ten pages or so for me!) is keeping us all with it on the details, including me. it's really an ideal production for me - i get to help train a new set of peeps, i have staff support, and it's awesomely fun to see how they envision the plays.
speaking of art, i've had the good fortune this year to hook up with some amazing talent on the visual side of things. all you need is one right person to point you in the right direction and it's suddenly raining cool-ass people. summer session is gonna rock, and i feel like i'm starting to get an idea of what the hell my function is in this... kind of... sometimes. that means i'm doing well, doesn't it, if things can stay flexible and yet still evolve while being fairly organized? wait, is my program like jell-o? i like jell-o.
and another thing, i'm realizing once again just how separate that different types of art seem to be if you don't make an effort. i mean, i'm not the best visual artist in the world, but i take a decent whack at it. i've been performing and directing for a while, and now i'm seeing what i can do as a singer. if i weren't willing to make an ass of myself on a regular basis, i would've missed out on a lot. as my favorite saying from ken robinson goes, "if you're not prepared to be wrong, you'll never come up with anything original." it's not that i'm not just as self-conscious as the next dufus; i'm just willing to live with a little more humiliation than most people in the name of expression.
if i can wrangle all my wild art sticks in the flame, maybe i'll try some more new stuff over the summer. hey, i've never done any sculpting before! if it makes a mess, i can totally do it.
this week's big shout out: happy birthday, my zillion april peeps!
my script frenzy maiden voyage has stalled at about thirty pages so far. as satia told me, the fact that i've even committed to an attempt makes me good for it. yeah, that's right... i'm a weiner! if only i can churn out the other seventy percent in the next week, then i'll be totally golden. on the other hand, i have made some effort to start entering into short play contests. if i can get produced, how many pages does that count for?
so, i'm also the project director on ep for the third year running. i can't honestly see how i'm gonna get burnt out on this anytime soon, because each year the kids who are involved keep me so excited about the project. are they neurotic and making some creative mistakes? that's what is called a new director in my book. the writers are being great about lending moral support, and my bevy of emails to the whole crew (which should really count as another ten pages or so for me!) is keeping us all with it on the details, including me. it's really an ideal production for me - i get to help train a new set of peeps, i have staff support, and it's awesomely fun to see how they envision the plays.
speaking of art, i've had the good fortune this year to hook up with some amazing talent on the visual side of things. all you need is one right person to point you in the right direction and it's suddenly raining cool-ass people. summer session is gonna rock, and i feel like i'm starting to get an idea of what the hell my function is in this... kind of... sometimes. that means i'm doing well, doesn't it, if things can stay flexible and yet still evolve while being fairly organized? wait, is my program like jell-o? i like jell-o.
and another thing, i'm realizing once again just how separate that different types of art seem to be if you don't make an effort. i mean, i'm not the best visual artist in the world, but i take a decent whack at it. i've been performing and directing for a while, and now i'm seeing what i can do as a singer. if i weren't willing to make an ass of myself on a regular basis, i would've missed out on a lot. as my favorite saying from ken robinson goes, "if you're not prepared to be wrong, you'll never come up with anything original." it's not that i'm not just as self-conscious as the next dufus; i'm just willing to live with a little more humiliation than most people in the name of expression.
if i can wrangle all my wild art sticks in the flame, maybe i'll try some more new stuff over the summer. hey, i've never done any sculpting before! if it makes a mess, i can totally do it.
this week's big shout out: happy birthday, my zillion april peeps!
13 April 2012
ode to zip
i don't really have that much to say
so i won't say that much today.
true fact! i like spinach.
so i won't say that much today.
true fact! i like spinach.
09 April 2012
lent outta shape
the end of twenty dollar lent! i made it! this has been one of the more suckular secular lent challenges for me, but it was awesome at the same time.
so the final tally for each week goes as follows:
$0.14
$000000
$7.80
$0.87
$000000
(-$6.83)
$0.81
... which would make the total overall a whopping $2.79. however, fate stepped in yesterday! we went out for steak with derek's parents, only to have to send back TWO sets of overcooked meat. not only did we end up paying for nothing, but the manager was kind enough to give us forty bucks worth of gift certificates. even after leaving cash on the table for the poor waitress that felt like crap for the fact that our food was such a debacle, we still ended up way ahead. frankly, i was fine after eating salads and sides and bread, but hey, if they wanna reward us simply on the basis for not being a dick about it, then the bonus was worth the trouble by far.
i guess if you add in the bonus moolah courtesy of the guy in the kitchen who can't manage to cook a steak without charring the hell out of it, then i'm up a total of close to thirty bucks! it's a good thing, too, because we went out for pizza (after midnight, so it was totally easter by then) and left another whopping tip just to celebrate. going on to blow more money, i'm thinking the left over pad thai from earlier this evening is going to make a great lunch tomorrow.
in the end, i've done well, and derek has even helped me (mostly) stick to my weekly budget. even the overage had nothing to do with him, as i insisted that he needed to try some dorito loco tacos and neglected to tell him that i was out of money for the week. the real goal was to get me to eat at home more and spend less of my paycheck on forcing people to bring me food. goal served as far as i'm concerned. the grocery store is once again my happy place, i've managed to "cook" on a regular basis, and i'm sticking way more fresh produce in my face under the guise of emergency food. thank goodness that making spinach salads is way quicker than ordering takeout, or else this would've been a massively failed attempt at new habits.
oh, and the funny thing? my pants are thanking me as well. they've quit putting a sleeper hold on my belly button and started being nicer to me. my bra still reserves the right to regularly torture my dorsal cleavage, but the rest of my clothes have come together in a united show of support. i'm not the sort to do a regimented diet, and i think i look pretty good most of the time - i just hate having to buy new pants. while i didn't anticipate the shift in body goo away from the waistline, anything to keep me out of a badly lit fitting room works for me.
some people thought at the beginning of the challenge that i would rarely get to go out to eat. i must say that it was surprising just how much fun i could have on twenty dollars a week. maximum number of times i went out in one week? FIVE! thanks to coupons, happy hours, splitskies on meals and a concerted effort, i found out one of the big parts of fun is all about ordering water instead of a beverage. when the hell did they start charging so much for fucking iced tea?!?! handy tip from me to you. go forth and order out, all on less than probably already spend on cappucinos.
the next challenge looms:
script frenzy for april - eek! i'm about 15 pages in to the 100 page goal so far. more updates as things roll along. whether i make it or not, i'm taking myself out to eat at the end of the month!
so the final tally for each week goes as follows:
$0.14
$000000
$7.80
$0.87
$000000
(-$6.83)
$0.81
... which would make the total overall a whopping $2.79. however, fate stepped in yesterday! we went out for steak with derek's parents, only to have to send back TWO sets of overcooked meat. not only did we end up paying for nothing, but the manager was kind enough to give us forty bucks worth of gift certificates. even after leaving cash on the table for the poor waitress that felt like crap for the fact that our food was such a debacle, we still ended up way ahead. frankly, i was fine after eating salads and sides and bread, but hey, if they wanna reward us simply on the basis for not being a dick about it, then the bonus was worth the trouble by far.
i guess if you add in the bonus moolah courtesy of the guy in the kitchen who can't manage to cook a steak without charring the hell out of it, then i'm up a total of close to thirty bucks! it's a good thing, too, because we went out for pizza (after midnight, so it was totally easter by then) and left another whopping tip just to celebrate. going on to blow more money, i'm thinking the left over pad thai from earlier this evening is going to make a great lunch tomorrow.
in the end, i've done well, and derek has even helped me (mostly) stick to my weekly budget. even the overage had nothing to do with him, as i insisted that he needed to try some dorito loco tacos and neglected to tell him that i was out of money for the week. the real goal was to get me to eat at home more and spend less of my paycheck on forcing people to bring me food. goal served as far as i'm concerned. the grocery store is once again my happy place, i've managed to "cook" on a regular basis, and i'm sticking way more fresh produce in my face under the guise of emergency food. thank goodness that making spinach salads is way quicker than ordering takeout, or else this would've been a massively failed attempt at new habits.
oh, and the funny thing? my pants are thanking me as well. they've quit putting a sleeper hold on my belly button and started being nicer to me. my bra still reserves the right to regularly torture my dorsal cleavage, but the rest of my clothes have come together in a united show of support. i'm not the sort to do a regimented diet, and i think i look pretty good most of the time - i just hate having to buy new pants. while i didn't anticipate the shift in body goo away from the waistline, anything to keep me out of a badly lit fitting room works for me.
some people thought at the beginning of the challenge that i would rarely get to go out to eat. i must say that it was surprising just how much fun i could have on twenty dollars a week. maximum number of times i went out in one week? FIVE! thanks to coupons, happy hours, splitskies on meals and a concerted effort, i found out one of the big parts of fun is all about ordering water instead of a beverage. when the hell did they start charging so much for fucking iced tea?!?! handy tip from me to you. go forth and order out, all on less than probably already spend on cappucinos.
the next challenge looms:
script frenzy for april - eek! i'm about 15 pages in to the 100 page goal so far. more updates as things roll along. whether i make it or not, i'm taking myself out to eat at the end of the month!
02 April 2012
script frenzy amateur
so, as i was growing up, i remember very clearly having an incident with my algebra teacher. it was a classic teenage moment in which she explained to me that i would need algebra forever. me, being the salty little spark plug that i am, shot back to her that i would be doing something creative with my life; algebra wouldn't be the thing that would get me where i wanted to be. she scoffed haughtily, i stopped listening to pretty much anything she said, we agreed to disagree.
have i used algebra since then? if you can count making calculations about what sort of discounts i can try to get based on sale pricing, nonprofit memberships, and the like - i guess i use just enough of it to count as algebra. really, geometry was always more my thing. math isn't evil, it's just misunderstood because kids get tortured for no reason with it. have i used my creative skills as an adult? hell yes. in that respect, my algebra teacher can suck it.
hopefully i can give my creative muscle a decent workout for script frenzy month in april. i have to write at least 100 pages of scripted material over the course of 30 days. that's it. it's that simple.
in declaring this to the world (i.e. a few people who might read this or my other posts) it makes me more motivated to accomplish my goal. it's something i've always wanted to try anyway, seeing how i do at writing scripts. as i told one person, during nanowrimo i have tried on a few occasions to work on a novel, only to end up with a few 10 page novellas.... okay, so they were short stories. okay, so they were only a few pages of gobbledegook that didn't even amount to a coherent story. all this to say, i'll try a different format and see what happens this time. hey, if i end up with at least one decent 10 minute play, the whole thing will be aces for me.
what i did this weekend:
got bitchy, went to the ballet, ate food
have i used algebra since then? if you can count making calculations about what sort of discounts i can try to get based on sale pricing, nonprofit memberships, and the like - i guess i use just enough of it to count as algebra. really, geometry was always more my thing. math isn't evil, it's just misunderstood because kids get tortured for no reason with it. have i used my creative skills as an adult? hell yes. in that respect, my algebra teacher can suck it.
hopefully i can give my creative muscle a decent workout for script frenzy month in april. i have to write at least 100 pages of scripted material over the course of 30 days. that's it. it's that simple.
in declaring this to the world (i.e. a few people who might read this or my other posts) it makes me more motivated to accomplish my goal. it's something i've always wanted to try anyway, seeing how i do at writing scripts. as i told one person, during nanowrimo i have tried on a few occasions to work on a novel, only to end up with a few 10 page novellas.... okay, so they were short stories. okay, so they were only a few pages of gobbledegook that didn't even amount to a coherent story. all this to say, i'll try a different format and see what happens this time. hey, if i end up with at least one decent 10 minute play, the whole thing will be aces for me.
what i did this weekend:
got bitchy, went to the ballet, ate food
29 March 2012
random side notes - chapter twenty nine
in going back to my old school ways - and i'm not just talking about my laziness taking over the ability to use proper capitalization, which also happens in my handwriting, just in case you wanted to know what the hell that's all about - i present to you another installment of weird shit i think about when i start whacking away at the keyboard! music, texting, typing, drinking diet dr. pepper, hanging out
with mr. bubbas and stuart copeland while derek takes a nap. sounds
like a good evening.
it seems to me that i'm very opinionated today. a comment here, a tirade there, and all is right with the whapping noise in my head. if you know me, no further elaboration should be necessary here.
since giving myself the edict that i will write more, i've amazingly begun to write more. it might be due to the fact that i've made my self-imposed declaration public as of late. kinda like when you tell your friends to slap that cookie outta your hand because your pants aren't fitting quite right. i hate buying new pants, therefore i write something every single day lately. do grocery lists count?
on with the show! ep auditions are coming up and it's pretty exciting. can't wait to see what kind of crazy shit the kids come up with this year. the scripts range from bizarre to sweet, with a little of everything in between. way less death than usual, oddly enough.
why do i have so many fucking apps on my stuff? do i even know what everything does? i think i should go on an app tour on my own electronic devices. it's time for some virtual spring cleaning up in this joint. what the heck is urbanspoon anyway? if i wanna eat, i go eat. that's not so hard. it's just food and i like just about all kinds of food. who needs a spoon going around trying to tell them how to live their lives? i thought the spoon took off with a fork or something. i'm so not gonna get involved in some freaky utensil love affair. marriage equality for kitchen goods, i say!
and that was prolly a big signal that i should supplement my caffeine with food.
anyone else ever accidentally buy a cd again because you thought you had lost it, only to figure out that it's totally in your hard drive already? yeah, that was me this week. damn pink martini just had me all up in a tizzy from giving such a kick ass show. i shoulda listened to veronica when i had the chance to put away my wallet. well, pee, as i might say. what a great cuss word. pee.
so now that i've opened my giant mouth to sing in public, i'm into trying more things that scare the crap outta me. once you've been in the pool, your toes just need another dip. i certainly hope that this is turning out to be my healthy way of living with unpredictability. can you get an adrenaline rush simply from having the balls to be yourself in front of people? yikes, that's a scary thought just in itself. one i'll most likely be asking about and throwing around in my noggin for days.
is that chinese food i smell amongst my leftovers? woot! this year's secular lent has been kinda harder than i imagined it would be, but i bet my wallet is thanking me. i'm totally gonna go out for a royal feast when this is over and over-tip to the max. any suggestions as to what the extravagance should be will be welcomed. for now, i gotta get me some F-U-D.
it seems to me that i'm very opinionated today. a comment here, a tirade there, and all is right with the whapping noise in my head. if you know me, no further elaboration should be necessary here.
since giving myself the edict that i will write more, i've amazingly begun to write more. it might be due to the fact that i've made my self-imposed declaration public as of late. kinda like when you tell your friends to slap that cookie outta your hand because your pants aren't fitting quite right. i hate buying new pants, therefore i write something every single day lately. do grocery lists count?
on with the show! ep auditions are coming up and it's pretty exciting. can't wait to see what kind of crazy shit the kids come up with this year. the scripts range from bizarre to sweet, with a little of everything in between. way less death than usual, oddly enough.
why do i have so many fucking apps on my stuff? do i even know what everything does? i think i should go on an app tour on my own electronic devices. it's time for some virtual spring cleaning up in this joint. what the heck is urbanspoon anyway? if i wanna eat, i go eat. that's not so hard. it's just food and i like just about all kinds of food. who needs a spoon going around trying to tell them how to live their lives? i thought the spoon took off with a fork or something. i'm so not gonna get involved in some freaky utensil love affair. marriage equality for kitchen goods, i say!
and that was prolly a big signal that i should supplement my caffeine with food.
anyone else ever accidentally buy a cd again because you thought you had lost it, only to figure out that it's totally in your hard drive already? yeah, that was me this week. damn pink martini just had me all up in a tizzy from giving such a kick ass show. i shoulda listened to veronica when i had the chance to put away my wallet. well, pee, as i might say. what a great cuss word. pee.
so now that i've opened my giant mouth to sing in public, i'm into trying more things that scare the crap outta me. once you've been in the pool, your toes just need another dip. i certainly hope that this is turning out to be my healthy way of living with unpredictability. can you get an adrenaline rush simply from having the balls to be yourself in front of people? yikes, that's a scary thought just in itself. one i'll most likely be asking about and throwing around in my noggin for days.
is that chinese food i smell amongst my leftovers? woot! this year's secular lent has been kinda harder than i imagined it would be, but i bet my wallet is thanking me. i'm totally gonna go out for a royal feast when this is over and over-tip to the max. any suggestions as to what the extravagance should be will be welcomed. for now, i gotta get me some F-U-D.
27 March 2012
It's dusty in here
Some of you like to do spring cleaning around the house, while some of you like to to it in mind/body/whatever. I think I need to do it on the old computer for a change. Since that's where at least part of my brain gets left - usually in the middle of the night - now seems like just as good of a time as any to get out the cobwebs.
Return of a blog! I've left it quite dank and dreary around this place for like, A YEAR or so. Whoops. My Bad. Not that I've expected anyone to be hanging on my every word here. oh yes, I'm totally fabulous, of course, but not really that interesting on a daily basis. But still, what do you say to yourself (i.e. who I usually think I'm writing to here) after a year hiatus that will seem... I dunno, maybe earth-shattering? Important? Worthwhile? Hell if I know. "I'm back and I hope I can be back for a long time." "Look at me! WHOOOO!" "Hey world, I'm so fancy." Sure. I give a big fat whatever to that.
No? No takers on the fancy thing? Okay then. Maybe we can start smaller.
Hi there.
Return of a blog! I've left it quite dank and dreary around this place for like, A YEAR or so. Whoops. My Bad. Not that I've expected anyone to be hanging on my every word here. oh yes, I'm totally fabulous, of course, but not really that interesting on a daily basis. But still, what do you say to yourself (i.e. who I usually think I'm writing to here) after a year hiatus that will seem... I dunno, maybe earth-shattering? Important? Worthwhile? Hell if I know. "I'm back and I hope I can be back for a long time." "Look at me! WHOOOO!" "Hey world, I'm so fancy." Sure. I give a big fat whatever to that.
No? No takers on the fancy thing? Okay then. Maybe we can start smaller.
Hi there.
07 April 2011
how to achieve zen by being moody
feeling low. no reason. it seems to me that alzheimer's is not the only disorder to have a "sundowning" effect on its peeps. mary always says that you should never make decisions or have heavy talks after midnight, and she is darn right on this.
that being said, of course there's nothing wrong with me. to be the girl with the perfect life, and then to feel the guilt of the perfect life, and then... SPIRAL! SPIRAL! SPIRAL! in the past, we've noted it as the "darfur!!!" thing because of the craziness of the spiral. first you think about what could be wrong. next, you realize that there is nothing wrong. of course you proceed to feel the guilt of having a great life, and the ensuing self-loathing for even feeling like there might be something wrong with such a terrific life, especially when all those people who have shitty lives seem to be getting along just fine. thanks very much. the final trip off the cliff comes quickly, because you are a total clod and there are people suffering in darfur or some other place where there is terrible genocide while you raid the cabinet for another cookie and pine over a useless trinket that broke because it's made out of cheap plastic, which shouldn't even matter because you actually had three fucking dollars to waste on cheap crap that you don't need or even really want in the first place.
oh wait, did i mention the spiral thing? yeah, it definitely goes that fast. my hypercritical thought processes can do all that in five seconds or less, a time which includes not only the thinking, but also the coordinating clump into a chair and pitiful sigh. multitasking your moodiness is not for the faint of heart.
wow, i'm getting worn out just thinking about randomly feeling sorry for myself. what sucketh the most is my logic kicking in and telling me it's only some hormonal jolt that's getting me all poopy and couch potato-like. or it could be the guilt over my secular lent violations. fuck it.
going with an oldie but goodie to be my new mantra of the day, as it's never too late to start your day over again. FUCK. IT. wooot! sigh of pitifulness gone, sigh of relief now engaging. fuck it, my peeps. feel that dalai lama thing coming over you, too? i sure do.
update with humility:
i entered a play in a contest thingy. crossing fingers now.
that being said, of course there's nothing wrong with me. to be the girl with the perfect life, and then to feel the guilt of the perfect life, and then... SPIRAL! SPIRAL! SPIRAL! in the past, we've noted it as the "darfur!!!" thing because of the craziness of the spiral. first you think about what could be wrong. next, you realize that there is nothing wrong. of course you proceed to feel the guilt of having a great life, and the ensuing self-loathing for even feeling like there might be something wrong with such a terrific life, especially when all those people who have shitty lives seem to be getting along just fine. thanks very much. the final trip off the cliff comes quickly, because you are a total clod and there are people suffering in darfur or some other place where there is terrible genocide while you raid the cabinet for another cookie and pine over a useless trinket that broke because it's made out of cheap plastic, which shouldn't even matter because you actually had three fucking dollars to waste on cheap crap that you don't need or even really want in the first place.
oh wait, did i mention the spiral thing? yeah, it definitely goes that fast. my hypercritical thought processes can do all that in five seconds or less, a time which includes not only the thinking, but also the coordinating clump into a chair and pitiful sigh. multitasking your moodiness is not for the faint of heart.
wow, i'm getting worn out just thinking about randomly feeling sorry for myself. what sucketh the most is my logic kicking in and telling me it's only some hormonal jolt that's getting me all poopy and couch potato-like. or it could be the guilt over my secular lent violations. fuck it.
going with an oldie but goodie to be my new mantra of the day, as it's never too late to start your day over again. FUCK. IT. wooot! sigh of pitifulness gone, sigh of relief now engaging. fuck it, my peeps. feel that dalai lama thing coming over you, too? i sure do.
update with humility:
i entered a play in a contest thingy. crossing fingers now.
29 December 2010
what i did with my summer vac-- oh wait, it's winter? never mind.
some days it becomes apparent that my life should read like a series of incredibly fabulous tabloid headlines and the like. but then, i also think that everyone should take some time to convert their own life into a media circus o' cultural sensation. i can't be the only one who is down with this sort of silly behavior.
i mean, really - doesn't this sound exciting? you need the media frenzy of your own pimped out press standards, i bet. or maybe that's just me. nahhhhh - if this were your life, you might pop out of bed every morning so that you could extra!extra!read all about it! with your morning coffee:
contortionist sits in seat next to huge people. amazing!
sunday, SUNday, SUNDAY!!! blizzard strikes house filled with people who have nowhere to go anyway. no one reacts except for person who actually had to be somewhere.
people sit and stare, hypnotized by wine and shiny things. where will this strange phenomenon strike next? where will YOU be when it happens?
girl goes into snow with no shoes - declared nutball by standards of people who are damn cold... i mean freezing, damnit.
how many calories can one household ingest? film at eleven.
studies show that new england drivers can't drive worth a shit. and furthermore, they like to open the car door and step out with traffic coming. wtf?
psychic states obvious... duh.
twitter abuse runs rampant! see the photos on twitter!!!
are YOU cultured? find out with this handy quiz...
bipolar man with beagles speaks warmly to out of town visitors, then goes batshit crazy on stupid lady who hits his car while parking. visitors support protest.
dogs and cats found to increase life of those who love them.
mailbox vandalizes mail. oh, the humanity!
slide on ice results in near busted-ass fall for local girl. we'll give you all the details, AND tell you how she managed to avoid certain doom, later on tonight.
giant macaroni and cheese set to take over eastern seaboard.
see there, you know you wanna take your week and turn it into a trashy magazine made for the inane entertainment of others. after all, inquiring minds want to know. wow, did i just show my age there or what? damn, i think i need some magazines now. one more stop at the airport should do me up fine for now.
accessory lesson of the day:
uh, don't listen to me. listen to coco chanel.
i mean, really - doesn't this sound exciting? you need the media frenzy of your own pimped out press standards, i bet. or maybe that's just me. nahhhhh - if this were your life, you might pop out of bed every morning so that you could extra!extra!read all about it! with your morning coffee:
contortionist sits in seat next to huge people. amazing!
sunday, SUNday, SUNDAY!!! blizzard strikes house filled with people who have nowhere to go anyway. no one reacts except for person who actually had to be somewhere.
people sit and stare, hypnotized by wine and shiny things. where will this strange phenomenon strike next? where will YOU be when it happens?
girl goes into snow with no shoes - declared nutball by standards of people who are damn cold... i mean freezing, damnit.
how many calories can one household ingest? film at eleven.
studies show that new england drivers can't drive worth a shit. and furthermore, they like to open the car door and step out with traffic coming. wtf?
psychic states obvious... duh.
twitter abuse runs rampant! see the photos on twitter!!!
are YOU cultured? find out with this handy quiz...
bipolar man with beagles speaks warmly to out of town visitors, then goes batshit crazy on stupid lady who hits his car while parking. visitors support protest.
dogs and cats found to increase life of those who love them.
mailbox vandalizes mail. oh, the humanity!
slide on ice results in near busted-ass fall for local girl. we'll give you all the details, AND tell you how she managed to avoid certain doom, later on tonight.
giant macaroni and cheese set to take over eastern seaboard.
see there, you know you wanna take your week and turn it into a trashy magazine made for the inane entertainment of others. after all, inquiring minds want to know. wow, did i just show my age there or what? damn, i think i need some magazines now. one more stop at the airport should do me up fine for now.
accessory lesson of the day:
uh, don't listen to me. listen to coco chanel.
26 December 2010
it's all scenic and shit like that
so the visit with my new england peeps is totally awesome. not that we've done all that much besides eating so far - because there is a fucking blizzard outside - but it's all picturesque and cute as a button here. after my drive in from the aiport on, like, three hours of sleep it seemed like that may have been some sort of hallucination, but it was really true. we took a cruise around the 'hoods today after brunch and it's so quaint i wanna throw up in my own mouth. which is good, i swear. this place looks vuurrry vuurrry purritttty tah-naaaight. (if you are catching this reference, then i love you... veronica. and mary. and rhiannon. and whomever else knows about that certain obsession.)
this is my first blizzard type thingy. tonight was also the first time i've had a hand in making fresh pasta for dinner - pun intended. did anyone die yet? all people and animals in the house are accounted for... as far as i know.
my, but i am heavy on the punctuation this evening, aren't i? have you ever noticed how much of it you're using and tried to restructure your sentences to have less, just because it seemed odd? see there, you're not alone... megan. and linsey. and mary again. and whomever else is as weird as my peeps.
but i digress once again, per my usual status. they're trying to convince me that i truly can maneuver in the kitchen by making me stir stuff and roll out pasta and take plates to the table. ya gotta love women that can try to believe in the girl who makes a literally lethal piece of chicken. got anyone you want taken out? invite them to my house for chicken and they'll be mere memory by the next day. then somehow this household wants me to cook, but has yet to ask me to make the coffee! i mean, really, have you met me?!? how bizarre it is that i finally had to take the task upon myself and just beeline for the pot while no one was around. talk about trying to be gracious hosts, huh? "lamb shanks and fancy crap? sure, you can do that! coffee? i know how much you love it, so let me do that for you." gotta love the humor in that irony. things that make you say quoi are the best.
so, we have the food festivals, the blizzard, the coffee... what else? oh yes, the video conferences that the pets can't help but have at least once per day. mr. bubbas is starting to hog the camera from derek. each time i see him, stuart copeland looks rightly pissed at me for leaving him with what he might view as tweedledee and tweedledum. damn, they'd better be bonding in that house. i was hoping for something more along the lines of the three amigos. perhaps by the time i get back they'll all be glued together on the sofa in a cuddly ball of fuzz. but that's only if derek grows a lot more hair, i think.
"what the fuck?" moment:
i am all kinds of ashy here. last time i checked, i am at some lowly sea level and it's snowing holy buckets outside. can i get some of that moisture, please?
this is my first blizzard type thingy. tonight was also the first time i've had a hand in making fresh pasta for dinner - pun intended. did anyone die yet? all people and animals in the house are accounted for... as far as i know.
my, but i am heavy on the punctuation this evening, aren't i? have you ever noticed how much of it you're using and tried to restructure your sentences to have less, just because it seemed odd? see there, you're not alone... megan. and linsey. and mary again. and whomever else is as weird as my peeps.
but i digress once again, per my usual status. they're trying to convince me that i truly can maneuver in the kitchen by making me stir stuff and roll out pasta and take plates to the table. ya gotta love women that can try to believe in the girl who makes a literally lethal piece of chicken. got anyone you want taken out? invite them to my house for chicken and they'll be mere memory by the next day. then somehow this household wants me to cook, but has yet to ask me to make the coffee! i mean, really, have you met me?!? how bizarre it is that i finally had to take the task upon myself and just beeline for the pot while no one was around. talk about trying to be gracious hosts, huh? "lamb shanks and fancy crap? sure, you can do that! coffee? i know how much you love it, so let me do that for you." gotta love the humor in that irony. things that make you say quoi are the best.
so, we have the food festivals, the blizzard, the coffee... what else? oh yes, the video conferences that the pets can't help but have at least once per day. mr. bubbas is starting to hog the camera from derek. each time i see him, stuart copeland looks rightly pissed at me for leaving him with what he might view as tweedledee and tweedledum. damn, they'd better be bonding in that house. i was hoping for something more along the lines of the three amigos. perhaps by the time i get back they'll all be glued together on the sofa in a cuddly ball of fuzz. but that's only if derek grows a lot more hair, i think.
"what the fuck?" moment:
i am all kinds of ashy here. last time i checked, i am at some lowly sea level and it's snowing holy buckets outside. can i get some of that moisture, please?
23 December 2010
random side notes - chapter twenty eight
would it be wrong of me to go to the store in the middle of the night simply for deodorant, magazines, and chick-o-sticks? it's a case that makes one question, "why did she really come here?" shopping under cover of darkness is the best. let's hope the drugstore isn't a last resort for people who procrastinate during the holidays, because i just need the aforementioned essentials.
as far as the rest of the week, life makes me indecisive as to where i should begin. mary's package for someone else finally arrived. i may have gotten someone a piece of furniture they truly need. moleskins were so cheap that we had to clear the bookstore out in a frenzy. there was some sort of news about a stabbing today. someone made cookies for derek, via my friendship with them. checking in for my flight was easy, but finding the rest of the paperwork i need isn't going well. i remembered to take my pill in a timely manner every single day. karen gave me a new bag filled with handmade and sanrio goodies. my thumbs feel funky.
next week i might start thinking about resolutions. once again, i'll be saving the really hard shit for lent so that there'll be a light in the tunnel. thank you, but i prefer to have my resolutions be something i can actually achieve without wigging out and having that (extra) cookie. there is only so much food i can ingest to make my inappropriate guilt go away without feeling all bloaty and stuff.
duuuuude, i am filling up this computer with bullshit already. what the...?!?! my startup disk must be on some kind of diet. there is no way i've accumulated this much useless data in this short of a time. does anyone else know what's on your computers?
it really sucks when you burp and it tastes like throwup. burps should give you a pleasant memory of meals gone by, not torture you with yucky and force you to make weird faces. that is so unfair, like even worse than when you burp after drinking soda and it goes up and burns the inside of your nostrils. ouch, those totally sting.
what to pack. what to pack. does anyone else make a checklist for vacations?
fattie mcpudge needs to lose a little weight up in here. not that much, but enough to get back that "eating pants" feeling in a few of her clothes. scales lie. photographs lie. even your friends might accidentally lie when their allergies don't let them see straight. pants don't lie. new pants are brutally honest and like to remind your wallet that you need to put down that (extra) cookie or else that night spent with jacked-up static hair while sweating under mean florescent lighting in the fitting room was all a big waste. it should only take a few months to gain that smidge o' pizza give back in the belt again.
sometimes i wonder what derek does in the house while i'm gone. my gut tells me he either slinks around like a sloth or does things i don't wanna know about later. in either case, he deserves to have some babble-free time to relax and study and bond with the cats. my company is entertaining, surely, but not without its hardships.
for all those times i've bragged about never having to do the laundry in my house, let me tell you this - i just officially helped fold all bazillion tons of clothes. i am a helper, damnit.
please tell me you relate:
my elbows are ashy
popcorn makes me kinda gassy
i heart people's scars
toenails suck
as far as the rest of the week, life makes me indecisive as to where i should begin. mary's package for someone else finally arrived. i may have gotten someone a piece of furniture they truly need. moleskins were so cheap that we had to clear the bookstore out in a frenzy. there was some sort of news about a stabbing today. someone made cookies for derek, via my friendship with them. checking in for my flight was easy, but finding the rest of the paperwork i need isn't going well. i remembered to take my pill in a timely manner every single day. karen gave me a new bag filled with handmade and sanrio goodies. my thumbs feel funky.
next week i might start thinking about resolutions. once again, i'll be saving the really hard shit for lent so that there'll be a light in the tunnel. thank you, but i prefer to have my resolutions be something i can actually achieve without wigging out and having that (extra) cookie. there is only so much food i can ingest to make my inappropriate guilt go away without feeling all bloaty and stuff.
duuuuude, i am filling up this computer with bullshit already. what the...?!?! my startup disk must be on some kind of diet. there is no way i've accumulated this much useless data in this short of a time. does anyone else know what's on your computers?
it really sucks when you burp and it tastes like throwup. burps should give you a pleasant memory of meals gone by, not torture you with yucky and force you to make weird faces. that is so unfair, like even worse than when you burp after drinking soda and it goes up and burns the inside of your nostrils. ouch, those totally sting.
what to pack. what to pack. does anyone else make a checklist for vacations?
fattie mcpudge needs to lose a little weight up in here. not that much, but enough to get back that "eating pants" feeling in a few of her clothes. scales lie. photographs lie. even your friends might accidentally lie when their allergies don't let them see straight. pants don't lie. new pants are brutally honest and like to remind your wallet that you need to put down that (extra) cookie or else that night spent with jacked-up static hair while sweating under mean florescent lighting in the fitting room was all a big waste. it should only take a few months to gain that smidge o' pizza give back in the belt again.
sometimes i wonder what derek does in the house while i'm gone. my gut tells me he either slinks around like a sloth or does things i don't wanna know about later. in either case, he deserves to have some babble-free time to relax and study and bond with the cats. my company is entertaining, surely, but not without its hardships.
for all those times i've bragged about never having to do the laundry in my house, let me tell you this - i just officially helped fold all bazillion tons of clothes. i am a helper, damnit.
please tell me you relate:
my elbows are ashy
popcorn makes me kinda gassy
i heart people's scars
toenails suck
18 December 2010
there may be such a thing as a bad moon rising
so i know that the technical night for the full moon isn't tonight, but it sure does feel like it if one were to judge by the squirrely crap that has been all around me this weekend. there seems to be a bitch vibe in the air. no one is immune - not even me. then agian, how could i tell if i were under the spell of a bitch vibe?
did you ever think you could gain any kind of street cred with adolescent prostitutes? did you ever think you would be helping to search for one lost shoe during a movie? did you ever think you would begin to understand words in spanish even though you don't really know any spanish? did you ever think you might be excited just to hear a person speak to you for the first time when you've known them for months? me neither. it's a thrill ride.
and by the way, what the fuck is pan's labyrinth about anyway? i'm sorry but i just cannot force my self to get into that movie. it's supposed to be this great thing and i'm supposed to be mesmerized. maybe i'm just a dumb bastard. whatever.
but i digress. perhaps. it's hard to digress when one doesn't even have a point to a rant in the first place. or it's easy to digress in that case, because a rant is essentially a progression of rambling blurbology and foam at the mouth which may or may not have much sense to it in any detectable way. sounds perfect for me. i feel totally blurby and foamy today. it must be that moon coming at me again. oh, and i forgot to take my medication at my normal time, so the twitch has taken hold of me just a bit. still don't get that fucking movie, though.
is coffee really a good idea at a time like this?
it's possible that the reason i'm cranky is because my old lady parts (hey you, get your mind out of the gutter) are serving as weather detectors by aching today. exercise would prolly be a great idea in this case, but i'm paradoxically unable to move very much because i'm too busy whining about how i need to loosen up first. so be it. maybe the cats will treat me like a freeway and accidentally give me a back rub by stomping on me on their way to the food bowl. i should get a jump on that; perhaps a nap on the kitchen floor. the tiles are nice and cool. the floor does need to be vacuumed and it would give me a good reason to clean the house.
my evenings as of late are mostly relaxing, though. i've gotten out into the world again. you don't even want to know my final analysis on how many rehearsals i've had in the past... oh, two years. let's just say it merits a heavily-stamped passport to crazytown and leave it at that. now i'm taking some time to see people and stuff and things before i take on another project. all those recommendations to relax have been heeded. i think you all for your concern. and yet, i still manage to fill more time than i should, but at least it's in a variety of ways for now. i'm even getting a chance to explore more of my artistic skills. fun fun fun!
the other new discovery for me is that my house can be a cool place to hang out and do some chillaxin' after a hard day. who knew that when you actually see your house once in a while you can really come to love it? be proud of me, my friends, for i have learned the joys of pj's and a night of boring once again.
new projects on the horizon:
i'm not telling you yet. you'd only be disappointed in me for making so many damn plans! i can pretend to do nothing for a while longer.
did you ever think you could gain any kind of street cred with adolescent prostitutes? did you ever think you would be helping to search for one lost shoe during a movie? did you ever think you would begin to understand words in spanish even though you don't really know any spanish? did you ever think you might be excited just to hear a person speak to you for the first time when you've known them for months? me neither. it's a thrill ride.
and by the way, what the fuck is pan's labyrinth about anyway? i'm sorry but i just cannot force my self to get into that movie. it's supposed to be this great thing and i'm supposed to be mesmerized. maybe i'm just a dumb bastard. whatever.
but i digress. perhaps. it's hard to digress when one doesn't even have a point to a rant in the first place. or it's easy to digress in that case, because a rant is essentially a progression of rambling blurbology and foam at the mouth which may or may not have much sense to it in any detectable way. sounds perfect for me. i feel totally blurby and foamy today. it must be that moon coming at me again. oh, and i forgot to take my medication at my normal time, so the twitch has taken hold of me just a bit. still don't get that fucking movie, though.
is coffee really a good idea at a time like this?
it's possible that the reason i'm cranky is because my old lady parts (hey you, get your mind out of the gutter) are serving as weather detectors by aching today. exercise would prolly be a great idea in this case, but i'm paradoxically unable to move very much because i'm too busy whining about how i need to loosen up first. so be it. maybe the cats will treat me like a freeway and accidentally give me a back rub by stomping on me on their way to the food bowl. i should get a jump on that; perhaps a nap on the kitchen floor. the tiles are nice and cool. the floor does need to be vacuumed and it would give me a good reason to clean the house.
my evenings as of late are mostly relaxing, though. i've gotten out into the world again. you don't even want to know my final analysis on how many rehearsals i've had in the past... oh, two years. let's just say it merits a heavily-stamped passport to crazytown and leave it at that. now i'm taking some time to see people and stuff and things before i take on another project. all those recommendations to relax have been heeded. i think you all for your concern. and yet, i still manage to fill more time than i should, but at least it's in a variety of ways for now. i'm even getting a chance to explore more of my artistic skills. fun fun fun!
the other new discovery for me is that my house can be a cool place to hang out and do some chillaxin' after a hard day. who knew that when you actually see your house once in a while you can really come to love it? be proud of me, my friends, for i have learned the joys of pj's and a night of boring once again.
new projects on the horizon:
i'm not telling you yet. you'd only be disappointed in me for making so many damn plans! i can pretend to do nothing for a while longer.
12 December 2010
out of town blogging
jeezy chreezy, remember that scene in european vacation where they were all supposed to have so much fun that they whistled zip-a-dee-doo-dah out of their assholes? well, clark w. griswold would be very proud of me today. mary and tim and myself have spent the last two days wearing ourselves out with some f-u-n, baby.
she even had to make a list of the fun, just to document it. i'm sure she'll facebook the whole thing and publish a buttload of photos. we sure have taken enough of them to make a few memories. i think i'm in love with my shitty camera on the ipod - it might be grainy and fuzz things up like an old school homemade 110 camera that you constructed out of tape and stuff, but it's a totally fun application of technology. me likee!
poor north carolina. that phelps guy who thinks "god hates fags" and pokes his nose into other people's funerals felt the need to come by the city this weekend with his cohorts. the city decided to respond by adding extra police to the whole area, and even sending out security to drag queen bingo. pffft, like they could even begin to take on people who wander around in three or four inch heels. whatevs, my peeps. someday, if i'm an important person who needs a bodyguard, i might just hire someone in drag to do that for me.
oh, and i am of the opinion that when you're on any sort of vacation, be it two days or two years, you're entitled to eat like there's no tomorrow! man, that burger was so leaky that it took two extra napkins to dry off my hands, which still smelled like yummy yummy meat-soaked hamburger buns all the way back to the house. talk about your satisfied customers.
today we're off to eat african food and then shuffle me to the airport. when i get home i'll spread out the spoils of my trip. new artwork (sorry, derek!) to hang, a zagnut bar (which will prolly be gone before i even hit the second airplane) to tide me over, hello kitty stuff out the wazoo, programs from a performance of "oh, the humanity", and my faboo wonky cat from the happiest recycling store ever. the scrap exchange alone would've been worth the trip!
but the puppet show with someone wearing a house on her head sure didn't hurt. i mean, stuff like brief and wonderful abstract puppet shows can make anyone smile.
something i like:
chatting with tim on the soggy porch
she even had to make a list of the fun, just to document it. i'm sure she'll facebook the whole thing and publish a buttload of photos. we sure have taken enough of them to make a few memories. i think i'm in love with my shitty camera on the ipod - it might be grainy and fuzz things up like an old school homemade 110 camera that you constructed out of tape and stuff, but it's a totally fun application of technology. me likee!
poor north carolina. that phelps guy who thinks "god hates fags" and pokes his nose into other people's funerals felt the need to come by the city this weekend with his cohorts. the city decided to respond by adding extra police to the whole area, and even sending out security to drag queen bingo. pffft, like they could even begin to take on people who wander around in three or four inch heels. whatevs, my peeps. someday, if i'm an important person who needs a bodyguard, i might just hire someone in drag to do that for me.
oh, and i am of the opinion that when you're on any sort of vacation, be it two days or two years, you're entitled to eat like there's no tomorrow! man, that burger was so leaky that it took two extra napkins to dry off my hands, which still smelled like yummy yummy meat-soaked hamburger buns all the way back to the house. talk about your satisfied customers.
today we're off to eat african food and then shuffle me to the airport. when i get home i'll spread out the spoils of my trip. new artwork (sorry, derek!) to hang, a zagnut bar (which will prolly be gone before i even hit the second airplane) to tide me over, hello kitty stuff out the wazoo, programs from a performance of "oh, the humanity", and my faboo wonky cat from the happiest recycling store ever. the scrap exchange alone would've been worth the trip!
but the puppet show with someone wearing a house on her head sure didn't hurt. i mean, stuff like brief and wonderful abstract puppet shows can make anyone smile.
something i like:
chatting with tim on the soggy porch
22 November 2010
the inside out version
after going so many months and sustaining my terrible habit of twelve (or more) hour days, i find myself feeling a bit lost today. the calendar for this week is mostly an oasis of blank spots and nothing, with the only part of it all being my evenings chock full of fun things like musicals and comedy and food. what is this newly found freedom i see before me?
it's great! it's grand! it's fucking terrifying! goodness, i haven't even had a real night off yet and here i am already fretting about what to do with so many free evenings. it isn't hard to suppose that i could've learned a thing or two from goldilocks, now is it? though the struggle for moderation totally sucks, i do keep on trying. wait a minute... are buddha and goldilocks related somehow?!?! is this some indoctrinating cautionary tale from those crazy eastern peeps that held our dear old western storytellers spellbound without their consent? i knew that fairy tales were a conspiracy, but i never could have dreamed they were out to take over the world with only a bit of porridge!
or rather, i meant to say.... yes, i do need a hobby to occupy me in a relaxing way. there is always brushing the cats to fix that. my new thing is playing with all the random string laying about and learning to crochet. it is only in the very formative stages, so my projects up until this point have included three chains of tangled yarn, something resembling a hot pink onion ring, and half a squeezy thimble puppet. after learning this new skill over the weekend, its fascinating properties have me thinking that idle hands take away from the other senses, as i was amazingly focused on the music while i tried to crochet a glove-like thingy. the wad of yarn was a mess, but i was relaxed and able to hear melodies with great clarity while trying to disentangle myself from the freeway of fuzz. another spellbound moment in action. hmmm, i see a theme going here.
what's up next:
making birthday plans!
it's great! it's grand! it's fucking terrifying! goodness, i haven't even had a real night off yet and here i am already fretting about what to do with so many free evenings. it isn't hard to suppose that i could've learned a thing or two from goldilocks, now is it? though the struggle for moderation totally sucks, i do keep on trying. wait a minute... are buddha and goldilocks related somehow?!?! is this some indoctrinating cautionary tale from those crazy eastern peeps that held our dear old western storytellers spellbound without their consent? i knew that fairy tales were a conspiracy, but i never could have dreamed they were out to take over the world with only a bit of porridge!
or rather, i meant to say.... yes, i do need a hobby to occupy me in a relaxing way. there is always brushing the cats to fix that. my new thing is playing with all the random string laying about and learning to crochet. it is only in the very formative stages, so my projects up until this point have included three chains of tangled yarn, something resembling a hot pink onion ring, and half a squeezy thimble puppet. after learning this new skill over the weekend, its fascinating properties have me thinking that idle hands take away from the other senses, as i was amazingly focused on the music while i tried to crochet a glove-like thingy. the wad of yarn was a mess, but i was relaxed and able to hear melodies with great clarity while trying to disentangle myself from the freeway of fuzz. another spellbound moment in action. hmmm, i see a theme going here.
what's up next:
making birthday plans!
06 November 2010
awe and inspiration for boring people like me
being a creative person can lead to some seriously weird creativity blocks. in the past i've called it the difference between inspiration and creation, as well as some other vague descriptions that don't make much sense to anyone but myself. i am in awe of other people's creations, which should inspire me to make something myself, right? it generally whips me into a form of intimidation that stops all creation in its tracks.
the perfect remedy? be in awe of someone who does something i have no idea how to do. stop inviting comparison to my own work and learn to appreciate the things that do inspire me. sure, i didn't eradicate smallpox by way of an internet search engine or invent an as seen on tv product that will lure millions into a midnight shopping frenzy, but i can stick stuff to other stuff with some amount of skill. i bet the guys at google don't even have a cool adhesive collection like mine. then again, it occurs to me just how many times that me and megan have remarked on how interesting someone else's life is, especially when we see ourselves as boring slugs that blushingly like to watch top model while eating pizza and cupcakes.
my own life, for instance, has raised a few eyebrows and some interest from others. to this i say, "huh? really?" in my head i'm just now starting to become an artist, which may come as a surprise to people; or perhaps not too surprising to the other artists i know. don't we all feel just a little inept at leading our own lives when other people are so damn exciting? it's a big day for me if i remember to take my medication and put my stinky socks in the hamper after i fling my shoes across the living room. and just think - i manage to be interesting and creative.
this is why i cram my life full of other interesting people... which is, of course, anyone who isn't myself and has a wonderful story to tell about that time they did this or that and it ended up as wow that was really cool and don't you think that coincidence is amazing but it was really nothing i swear, but oh it was something to me because i was in awe of the story of the thing i never did myself. but i still don't know if i want to milk a cow or eat live bugs just to have a story like that. i mean, what if i gag on a squirmy cricket and a moving body part flies out of my nose? great story, but not so much worth the trauma of it all when you think it over. okay, so maybe milking a cow would be fine, so long as it didn't hurt my back too much in the end, but the bug thing prolly wins it every time.
but i digress, per my usual habit of digressing. hmmm, it would seem that my block is broken by the thought of live cricket parts shooting out of my face. how's that for boring and interesting combined?
addicted to :
wearing lots of bracelets
groupon
lighting matches
peanut butter
my cats purring loudly
fluffy socks
the perfect remedy? be in awe of someone who does something i have no idea how to do. stop inviting comparison to my own work and learn to appreciate the things that do inspire me. sure, i didn't eradicate smallpox by way of an internet search engine or invent an as seen on tv product that will lure millions into a midnight shopping frenzy, but i can stick stuff to other stuff with some amount of skill. i bet the guys at google don't even have a cool adhesive collection like mine. then again, it occurs to me just how many times that me and megan have remarked on how interesting someone else's life is, especially when we see ourselves as boring slugs that blushingly like to watch top model while eating pizza and cupcakes.
my own life, for instance, has raised a few eyebrows and some interest from others. to this i say, "huh? really?" in my head i'm just now starting to become an artist, which may come as a surprise to people; or perhaps not too surprising to the other artists i know. don't we all feel just a little inept at leading our own lives when other people are so damn exciting? it's a big day for me if i remember to take my medication and put my stinky socks in the hamper after i fling my shoes across the living room. and just think - i manage to be interesting and creative.
this is why i cram my life full of other interesting people... which is, of course, anyone who isn't myself and has a wonderful story to tell about that time they did this or that and it ended up as wow that was really cool and don't you think that coincidence is amazing but it was really nothing i swear, but oh it was something to me because i was in awe of the story of the thing i never did myself. but i still don't know if i want to milk a cow or eat live bugs just to have a story like that. i mean, what if i gag on a squirmy cricket and a moving body part flies out of my nose? great story, but not so much worth the trauma of it all when you think it over. okay, so maybe milking a cow would be fine, so long as it didn't hurt my back too much in the end, but the bug thing prolly wins it every time.
but i digress, per my usual habit of digressing. hmmm, it would seem that my block is broken by the thought of live cricket parts shooting out of my face. how's that for boring and interesting combined?
addicted to :
wearing lots of bracelets
groupon
lighting matches
peanut butter
my cats purring loudly
fluffy socks
02 November 2010
i can learn to say no
by saturday night, i came home and stared. my body piled itself on the sofa and i drooled while the cats did some self-petting head butts at my elbows. and hands. it wasn't that i had done some kind of strenuous physical activity, but more that i hadn't seen my own house in what seemed like weeks. there is a special word that i have no grasp on when asked to volunteer for things. NO. in this, i manage to overcommit myself to everything i can think of to do. result? me drooling on the sofa.
each time this happens, the reaction is similar to that of a weekend alcoholic with a hangover. "i'm never gonna do this again!" and just like that binge drinker, i fall victim to my own follies again and again without thought to the repeated vow made to lighten up on everything. what the hell is wrong with my brain? does it think that running ragged is a lifestyle choice?!? oh sure, i can SAY that taking on more isn't an option, but then it just feels like being lazy and selfish... to simply take a day off from being the super duper version of me. lately i've had a few people ask me when my burnout phase is going to come, as if it is inevitable. in an effort to stave off the complete breakdown i have scheduled mini breakdowns for more convenient times so that i won't end up in fetal position with my shower spraying me in the face while i am fully clothed and muttering random song lyrics. now really, that would be a spectacular burnout, but who has the time for it?
when you look at my calendar, it doesn't seem too daunting. there isn't much of an overlap on items, plenty of blank spots that don't involve times i should be asleep, and most all of my appointments are in legible handwriting. it's amazing - how does a girl with so little to do get so much done and feel as if she hasn't done anything, all while managing to stay up too late because she was out past eleven (almost) every night getting things done? not really sure when my schedule became the riddle of the sphinx, but it's a paradox, i tell you.
going with my usual silliness, i'm looking at the pages for this week and wondering when i'm going to take a break. oh, wait! i have that scheduled for next month! just a few more weeks until glorious freedom... and a whole new set of commitments that i've made without consulting my own damn brain or my calendar. however, like any good alcoholic, i promise never to do this to myself again.
today's big task:
VOTE!
each time this happens, the reaction is similar to that of a weekend alcoholic with a hangover. "i'm never gonna do this again!" and just like that binge drinker, i fall victim to my own follies again and again without thought to the repeated vow made to lighten up on everything. what the hell is wrong with my brain? does it think that running ragged is a lifestyle choice?!? oh sure, i can SAY that taking on more isn't an option, but then it just feels like being lazy and selfish... to simply take a day off from being the super duper version of me. lately i've had a few people ask me when my burnout phase is going to come, as if it is inevitable. in an effort to stave off the complete breakdown i have scheduled mini breakdowns for more convenient times so that i won't end up in fetal position with my shower spraying me in the face while i am fully clothed and muttering random song lyrics. now really, that would be a spectacular burnout, but who has the time for it?
when you look at my calendar, it doesn't seem too daunting. there isn't much of an overlap on items, plenty of blank spots that don't involve times i should be asleep, and most all of my appointments are in legible handwriting. it's amazing - how does a girl with so little to do get so much done and feel as if she hasn't done anything, all while managing to stay up too late because she was out past eleven (almost) every night getting things done? not really sure when my schedule became the riddle of the sphinx, but it's a paradox, i tell you.
going with my usual silliness, i'm looking at the pages for this week and wondering when i'm going to take a break. oh, wait! i have that scheduled for next month! just a few more weeks until glorious freedom... and a whole new set of commitments that i've made without consulting my own damn brain or my calendar. however, like any good alcoholic, i promise never to do this to myself again.
today's big task:
VOTE!
21 October 2010
random side notes - chapter twenty seven
i'm sitting with the fuzzbabies and listening to marilyn monroe tunes. they seem to like her, as they're presently in a bizarre trance of snoring with their eyes open. are they asleep? are they contemplating the possibility of suffocating me in my sleep? it's like how i've seen animals react to the cheesy flash gordon movie from the seventies - creepy and reassuring all at the same time.
my lady guts are playing tricks on me, or the aliens have been abducting me and doing experiments. i've had the urge to cry for the last week. okay, so i've cried more than normal in the past week. sure sure sure, you twisted my arm. i cried at five minutes worth of television last night. after looking at the lunar calendar, i'm going to blame it on the impending full moon, like the water in my body is reacting to some tidal shift.... here in the middle of the country, of course. it all makes sense to me. if i'm going to get all choked up about rhiannon's kid starting school and getting homework, then i need some good excuse for being fucked up in the head. i mean, besides that whole crazy thing, ya know.
somehow, everyone wants to donate alottashit to my work lately, just by talking to me. well, some shit by some peeps, but it's good shit from good peeps. we all know i'm a silver-tongued devil, but this can't just be the product of my charms. i'm thinking that the full moon is adding to the population's universal sense of guilt and we're getting the spoils. that would keep my giant ego in check and hopefully keep my serendipity run going without my waiting for the other shoe to drop tendencies to kick in and make me cry again.
mmm.... getting the urge for sweet potato pancakes now, thanks to mary.
but seriously, is there some reason that i should see two live chickens whipping down the sidewalk in my very urban neighborhood?!? what kinda operation are we running here, folks? i had to drive down the street twice just to make sure i wasn't seeing things. one white, one red, both chunky and fast-moving. no shit. chicken or otherwise.
i've gone all day without answering the phone! i hate checking voice mail anyway. as of this evening, i've only responded to three text messages, and since i'll be at work all weekend i decided to get stuff done from home today, which also meant a trip to the movies with julie and her family. i'm pretty sure the women in the next row were trashed in the middle of the afternoon, because one of them felt the need to stretch out and lay down across four seats while giggling. or did she just miss her mommy and need a wooby blanket to watch "the social media" before announcing to us during the credits that she had just been signed up to facebook by her friend this morning? people freak me out.
leftover alert!
chinese food in the fridge is calling to me...
my lady guts are playing tricks on me, or the aliens have been abducting me and doing experiments. i've had the urge to cry for the last week. okay, so i've cried more than normal in the past week. sure sure sure, you twisted my arm. i cried at five minutes worth of television last night. after looking at the lunar calendar, i'm going to blame it on the impending full moon, like the water in my body is reacting to some tidal shift.... here in the middle of the country, of course. it all makes sense to me. if i'm going to get all choked up about rhiannon's kid starting school and getting homework, then i need some good excuse for being fucked up in the head. i mean, besides that whole crazy thing, ya know.
somehow, everyone wants to donate alottashit to my work lately, just by talking to me. well, some shit by some peeps, but it's good shit from good peeps. we all know i'm a silver-tongued devil, but this can't just be the product of my charms. i'm thinking that the full moon is adding to the population's universal sense of guilt and we're getting the spoils. that would keep my giant ego in check and hopefully keep my serendipity run going without my waiting for the other shoe to drop tendencies to kick in and make me cry again.
mmm.... getting the urge for sweet potato pancakes now, thanks to mary.
but seriously, is there some reason that i should see two live chickens whipping down the sidewalk in my very urban neighborhood?!? what kinda operation are we running here, folks? i had to drive down the street twice just to make sure i wasn't seeing things. one white, one red, both chunky and fast-moving. no shit. chicken or otherwise.
i've gone all day without answering the phone! i hate checking voice mail anyway. as of this evening, i've only responded to three text messages, and since i'll be at work all weekend i decided to get stuff done from home today, which also meant a trip to the movies with julie and her family. i'm pretty sure the women in the next row were trashed in the middle of the afternoon, because one of them felt the need to stretch out and lay down across four seats while giggling. or did she just miss her mommy and need a wooby blanket to watch "the social media" before announcing to us during the credits that she had just been signed up to facebook by her friend this morning? people freak me out.
leftover alert!
chinese food in the fridge is calling to me...
01 October 2010
with apologies to my peeps
you know how when you have a lot to do, and you're totally getting a lot done, when you skip a task because you're so damn busy - you feel like you're not getting anything at all done? uhhh, but maybe that's just me. i'm fascinated by a paradox like that. so now i'm in that thing where one of my bajillion juggling balls drop and i screech in a panic until i get some cheese to calm me down.
somewhere in all this i've managed to let my friendships wither to rather slim amounts of communication. i wanna scream out "I'M SORRY!" to all of my peeps at once. i know that in reality they will forgive me for going into my hole and being all mysterious and shit. i'm not mad at anyone, i'm not depressed, i don't have any major breakdowns scheduled for the present moment, so i don't want anyone to worry about me. i think i just have a touch of information overload that makes me retreat to my own little world the second i hit the door at night.
there is an interesting phenomenon that happens to me when i get really busy. sure i'm out there and talking to people and getting messages and hearing my phone beep all the time and... and... and... i feel disappointing and isolated somehow. it's funny how being so jacked in to so much stuff can put you in such a solitary haze. i think i even wrote a paper on this not so long ago when i was still in college. ironic how i've fallen victim to the very thing i've warned myself about in the past. you would think i would see it coming.
this leads to a whole other discussion about ironic isolation induced by living in a techno-glutted world, but i'll leave that one for another time. scott and i have had an ongoing thing about this for years. it's like a whole dissertation that should be saved for the possibility of further tortured times of education.
for now, i'll just apologize for for being a hermit to my actual life and admit that i need to keep up with people and stop making excuses for why i would rather crash on the sofa, forcing stuart copeland and mr. bubbas to watch endless amounts of bad television with me in the middle of the night while i get other work done. the cats would be happy to see me having a life as long as it doesn't interfere with their shedding and eating schedules. but you peeps still like me, right? i swear i haven't been eaten by a black hole or a giant octopus. and besides, it's opening night for one of the shows i'm directing (yes, i am on two different projects right now outside of work, because i'm an idiot) and i fell the three o'clock jitters lurking in the background. love me, i beg of you!
other things to catch up on:
the recycling is getting restless
thank you notes are polite
cats need a nail clipping
somewhere in all this i've managed to let my friendships wither to rather slim amounts of communication. i wanna scream out "I'M SORRY!" to all of my peeps at once. i know that in reality they will forgive me for going into my hole and being all mysterious and shit. i'm not mad at anyone, i'm not depressed, i don't have any major breakdowns scheduled for the present moment, so i don't want anyone to worry about me. i think i just have a touch of information overload that makes me retreat to my own little world the second i hit the door at night.
there is an interesting phenomenon that happens to me when i get really busy. sure i'm out there and talking to people and getting messages and hearing my phone beep all the time and... and... and... i feel disappointing and isolated somehow. it's funny how being so jacked in to so much stuff can put you in such a solitary haze. i think i even wrote a paper on this not so long ago when i was still in college. ironic how i've fallen victim to the very thing i've warned myself about in the past. you would think i would see it coming.
this leads to a whole other discussion about ironic isolation induced by living in a techno-glutted world, but i'll leave that one for another time. scott and i have had an ongoing thing about this for years. it's like a whole dissertation that should be saved for the possibility of further tortured times of education.
for now, i'll just apologize for for being a hermit to my actual life and admit that i need to keep up with people and stop making excuses for why i would rather crash on the sofa, forcing stuart copeland and mr. bubbas to watch endless amounts of bad television with me in the middle of the night while i get other work done. the cats would be happy to see me having a life as long as it doesn't interfere with their shedding and eating schedules. but you peeps still like me, right? i swear i haven't been eaten by a black hole or a giant octopus. and besides, it's opening night for one of the shows i'm directing (yes, i am on two different projects right now outside of work, because i'm an idiot) and i fell the three o'clock jitters lurking in the background. love me, i beg of you!
other things to catch up on:
the recycling is getting restless
thank you notes are polite
cats need a nail clipping
18 September 2010
weekendyish
today is a lazy day. i keep wondering how i get so exhausted when it feels like i don't get much of anything done. true enough, i do have somewhat of a tight schedule, but does running from place to place and taking little notes on my steno pad count as large amounts of activity?
stuart copeland has become quite chatty as of late. he has the wimpiest voice ever, so this new development obviously fills me with glee. his meow is like that of a teeny tiny kitten. eee! hearing that come out of a twelve pound ball of fuzz is enough to make anyone melt.
you would be proud of me. not only did i get some decent books read before the next book salon, but one of them was even a fiction novel. that is so not the norm for me. i don't know when i made the leap to primarily reading non-fiction, but it's hard for me to do any fiction longer than a short story these days. i can tell you that confessions of an ugly stepsister was worth the effort for me. maybe i'll even try another one this month.
the new job is going along swimmingly so far. they think i'm doing something right, i still have a job, and everyone seems pleased. fingers crossed for more progress.
think i should hit the greek festival today. already have plans to go see this opera preview thingy this evening before i go off to a coffeehouse. me, busy? never.
indulgence of wonderfulness:
sushi boat!
stuart copeland has become quite chatty as of late. he has the wimpiest voice ever, so this new development obviously fills me with glee. his meow is like that of a teeny tiny kitten. eee! hearing that come out of a twelve pound ball of fuzz is enough to make anyone melt.
you would be proud of me. not only did i get some decent books read before the next book salon, but one of them was even a fiction novel. that is so not the norm for me. i don't know when i made the leap to primarily reading non-fiction, but it's hard for me to do any fiction longer than a short story these days. i can tell you that confessions of an ugly stepsister was worth the effort for me. maybe i'll even try another one this month.
the new job is going along swimmingly so far. they think i'm doing something right, i still have a job, and everyone seems pleased. fingers crossed for more progress.
think i should hit the greek festival today. already have plans to go see this opera preview thingy this evening before i go off to a coffeehouse. me, busy? never.
indulgence of wonderfulness:
sushi boat!
04 September 2010
where does the time go?
it almost feels as if the past month has slipped away from me. i've gotten a new job, a new computer, a new keyboard that i haven't quite bonded with just yet, and it feels like there is a whole new season finally beginning. some people see autumn as the end of things, but i think that's when the world begins anew for me. after a few months of drudgery and sweating, i can finally breathe.
i'm sure if i look back to each of my autumn postings, i would see that same theme again, too. at the start of each calendar year, i take time to see where i have been and where i'm headed, and when lent comes to me, i decide which modifications i wanna make in my life, but it's really this time of year that seems to breed real change for me. it also turns out to be the busiest time in my life.
new theatre season and opening parties. new employment. new contract jobs to go along with said employment. new technology, both purchased and learned. new opportunities for me to do new stuff. new ways for me to be a complete jackass. new contacts every week. it's a bit overwhelming, really, to think of my sponge-like absorbency of information in the past few weeks. no wonder i slept well into the afternoon today. ah yes, the joys of being a "growed-up" type. first i lay around for hours on my day off, then i eat pb&j for breakfast.... i mean brunch, all while watching ripley saving newt and corbin saving leeloo. moooll-teee-passsss.
oh, and i got to go backwards this week, too. remember how you always wanted to cut class just to hang out in the rooms with the cool kids? i spent the whole day on thursday in high school art and drama rooms (as part of my new job - no shit, man!) and got to hear an author's lecture to boot. high school is way more fun when you're pushing 40. amy sedaris was definitely on to something good.
my totally exciting week also included rearranging the living room and getting a new cup. am i fabulous or what? oh, and then there are those pesky things like work, rehearsals, and the occasional brushing of my hair. somewhere in all that i found time to commit to judging little children in a halloween costume contest, because i'm of the few people in town who's not afraid to make the little darlings cry on their little pillows. tonight i'm off to the theatre to see some friends in a promisingly kitschy show. there's nothing like prison girls, right?
project of the week:
hanging my first art show at the new gig
i'm sure if i look back to each of my autumn postings, i would see that same theme again, too. at the start of each calendar year, i take time to see where i have been and where i'm headed, and when lent comes to me, i decide which modifications i wanna make in my life, but it's really this time of year that seems to breed real change for me. it also turns out to be the busiest time in my life.
new theatre season and opening parties. new employment. new contract jobs to go along with said employment. new technology, both purchased and learned. new opportunities for me to do new stuff. new ways for me to be a complete jackass. new contacts every week. it's a bit overwhelming, really, to think of my sponge-like absorbency of information in the past few weeks. no wonder i slept well into the afternoon today. ah yes, the joys of being a "growed-up" type. first i lay around for hours on my day off, then i eat pb&j for breakfast.... i mean brunch, all while watching ripley saving newt and corbin saving leeloo. moooll-teee-passsss.
oh, and i got to go backwards this week, too. remember how you always wanted to cut class just to hang out in the rooms with the cool kids? i spent the whole day on thursday in high school art and drama rooms (as part of my new job - no shit, man!) and got to hear an author's lecture to boot. high school is way more fun when you're pushing 40. amy sedaris was definitely on to something good.
my totally exciting week also included rearranging the living room and getting a new cup. am i fabulous or what? oh, and then there are those pesky things like work, rehearsals, and the occasional brushing of my hair. somewhere in all that i found time to commit to judging little children in a halloween costume contest, because i'm of the few people in town who's not afraid to make the little darlings cry on their little pillows. tonight i'm off to the theatre to see some friends in a promisingly kitschy show. there's nothing like prison girls, right?
project of the week:
hanging my first art show at the new gig
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