Possibly Worst Come-On Line EVER

Me, sitting quietly at a PepBoys, reading a book that is clearly NOT the bible.

Random Guy, older fellow, standing next to me, going over a come on line in his head, this is what he comes up with:

Random Guy: "Is that the bible?"

Me: "No."

Random Guy rethinks his strategy, comes up with this: "Do you go to LACC?" (Los Angeles Community College)

Me: thanking god that the electric ratchet tool the PepBoy guys use just came on and I have an excuse to ignore him, under the guise I can't hear.

While I can't say it's the worst come-on line ever (I still have a lot of living to do, knock wood) it ranks up there fairly high.

Night on the Town

I don't get out much. It's due to various reasons that I will not go into detail here, but yeah, one can consider me a type of shut in come the weekend. It pains me at times because I feel I should be partying my ass off every Friday and Saturday night, and occasionally I will, but as time goes on I find myself preferring the company of Battlestar Galactica.

It wasn't always this way. I was whittled down over time. Living in L.A. you'd think there were grand opportunities to party, and there are, but mostly if you're rich and willing to stand in line and be dismissed by a portly body guard for wearing the wrong jeans. I have not done this because I don't own a $300 pair of jeans, so I see no point in the humilation.

Instead, I'd hang out with a few people at what would be described as "dive bars". For me, the dive bar is not the place I'd like to spend a lot of my free weekend time. Especially since I tend to be an asshole magnet and always end up with the weird city guys hitting on me. I had one experience where this guy thought it would be cute to hover over my shoulder while I was ordering at the bar and then refuse to back away when I tried to leave. He just stared at me and for a moment I thought I was going to be stabbed. With Love, of course, but stabbed nonetheless. He finally did get the hint, probably due to my every so bitchy, "move the fuck out of my way" facial expression. But he didn't make it easy to move past him.

Since this is a lot of what I'd get going out in L.A. over time it just became a pointless endeavor. For guys, they get all the hot young things trying to become actresses. For women, or more specifically, ME, I get the Creepy Guys, and the Old Black Dudes and the occasional illegal immigrant (don't ask). Not to encouraging.

So for a while I traded in weekend nights out for Best Week Ever and the aforementioned Battlestar. And I got used to it. And eventually I gave up on going out, because, really, what was the use? Even though it's L.A. at some point it's just the same old people doing the same old things.

But I went out last night. Though I had to force myself. I didn't want to but my friend had another friend in town so I said, "what the hell". We ended up going to an awesome bar called the Library Bar downtown, which had great jukebox music (Modest Mouse!) and cool drinks. I had an ale/lager (not sure) called an Old Rasputin and though I hate Guinness I enjoyed the Rasputin. I even got hit on, by a young man just out of the Navy (save the jokes), who wasn't a Creepy White Guy or an Old Black Man. It was refreshing to say the least.

Is there hope after all? Who knows, I'll just have to continue being social and see what happens.

Fun at the DMV

I had an appointment at the DMV this morning and I am surprised to say it went well. Los Angeles is notorious for having horrible, hell inducing DMVs but the one local to me was, dare I say, almost pleasant.

I don't know how it could have actually been pleasant fore I believe that no matter what they have to make it drap, least people have too much fun at the DMV and want to go there all the time. As it stands now, no one really likes a trip to the DMV and will try to avoid it at all costs, like I was doing.

But my trepidations were for naught. I made an appointment online for 9 a.m. went in early to fill out the paper work and got out by 9:11 exactly. And I got what I'd come for: A 60 day temporary car tag while I try and repair my car to bring it up to CA smog standards.

If it turns out I can't, then at least I will have my car long enough (well, legal long enough) to continue to drive to work, since the show's production ends the first week of October and I'll have till the end of the month to continue driving. After that I will either have to get a new car or return to Public Transportation. *sigh*

We shall see what becomes of that and I will hope for the best.

Worry Wart

I like to worry. Well, I don't like to worry but whenever I find myself worrying it's like a domino effect and one worry leads to another and to another and so on and so forth until in my mind the world has ended in an apocalypse.

Yesterday was a good day for me. I did good. I did Something Right and by the end I was walking out of the office on a high. Today, however, not so much.

I made a mistake at work. I take responsibility for my mistake and have learned a valuable lesson that I already knew but last night I went against my better judgment and finished up work at home and this afternoon I had my boss give me a little talk about stuff that was missing and or wrong. Naturally, in my head I freaked the fuck out and even now I can feel the pressure in my mind as I go over every little detail and beyond on how I Fucked Up.

Since I Fucked Up I was told to redo the work and I did but I am now worrying that I have Fucked Up again and am on pins and needles that my boss is going to email me or call me telling me that despite my second chance I have still Fucked Up. I will not be fine probably until Monday when the boss is finished working on the outline.

I know that I shouldn't be as stressed as I am but I can't help it, again, it's my nature and I'm realizing how mentally addictive it is for me to nit pick myself and thus far I've gotten myself to the point where I'm waffling between I'll never work in this town again and throwing a childish tissy fit that when I have my own show I'll be better off.

In order to calm myself down I actually had to pour myself a glass of red wine (Momma calm down, it was one glass and I'm not becoming an alcoholic). But while the rest of my body was relaxed and at ease my mind was still going a mile a minute with all the possible new ways I could have fucked up.

One thing is for sure, I will never work at home again. Home is play and relax time and I can't concentrate. And the second thing is that various gods and dieties will be hearing me asking for favors for the next few days. Zeus, I'm looking at you.

Faux Penis Envy

Have you ever felt just, I don't know, totally useless? I find myself feeling that way a lot lately. And I know it's probably just me being my own worst critic but even still I worry about my performance. Or, to put it more bluntly, whether I measure up.

I have, what I have just made up right now, Faux Penis Envy, or F.P.E. It's not like Freud's penis envy where he thought women wanted a penis of their very own cause the things just look like so much fun (and not to mention practical) but I'm basing my F.P.E. on the real penis envy, where dudes think their little dudes just don't measure up to everybody else's dudes.

For some reason I always feel like I don't measure up. And in reality I have no idea what's going on but that doesn't even matter cause the only thing I care about is what's going on in my head. Unless what's in my head actually happens in real life and it either confirms what I'm worried about or it doesn't and my nerves are calmed.

Like I said, I'm probably worrying too much but I can't bring myself to believe that. If anything I don't think I worry enough. I need to relax and I'm sure Karen and Mike will have awesome, super ways of doing that.

Are You There God?

It's me. I know I bitch and moan to you constantly about how unfair my life is (really, why aren't I dating Keanu Reeves, I asked you for that years ago) and how I need more money and a new car but that I can over look.

What I can't overlook is that when I ask you for a new, hot bodied male neighbor after the geeky, sweaty bodied neighbor moved out, you give me what? C'mon God, fess up. What was it? C'mon, out with it...that's right, you give me a black chick as a new neighbor which is no where near what I asked you for.

Shame God, shame. I'm sure you give those kids in Africa the corn or rice or whatever the hell it is they want.

Oh, wait...nevermind.

Skin Issues

So it seems that my skin blemishes didn't end with the nasty bed bugs. Now I've got different bumps of a different kind and I'm not sure where these came from, though I suspect foul play.
No, not really. I suspect that my skin is either reacting to me getting hair spray on it or it's not happy with the new bedsheets. To fix the first problem I'm no longer using the hair spray as for the second those sheets are going to be washed in hot water. The bed sheets should be happy I'm giving them the chance. The last time I suspected bed sheets of damaging my skin I threw them out without so much as a second thought.

The thing with my skin though is that I've got great skin. It's awesome. It's got a nice tone and everything. But the drawback to that is whenever something is agitating my skin it breaks out like a California forest fire. It's not even gradual, one morning my skin is fine, the next it's riddled with bumps. My face seems to be the litmus test for possible irritations, as the rest of my body is totally fine (aside from the bug bites).

Thank god for Calimine lotion. I know I must have looked like was doing a sorry assed attempt to start a Pink Man Group last night, there was so much irritated territory to cover, but this morning the bumps seems to be drying out. Let's hope this continues...

Reasons to Relax and Bug Update

So I'm going to choose to believe that spending 10 bucks on ointments yesterday is helping my bug bites, though a few on my hands don't look like they're going anywhere anytime soon. There are some elsewhere on my body that are slowly fading so I'm gonna say the ointments are speeding up their progress.

And I'm super stressed today, for no real reason just I'm anticipating the worst at work, which I have no real reason for since I am doing my job. I'm just worried people are work are going to think/accuse me of slacking off. It's worrisome being an assistant sometimes. But in a week or so I'll be home free. Keep your fingers crossed.

Battle of the Bugs

More so battle of the bug bites.

I still have a lot of bumps from my bed bug encounter and now I'm bringing out the big guns to treat them. Thanks to my wonderfully knowing mother who gave me advice on what to do I now have three weapons against the bumps: Aveno lotion (with oatmeal like mommy said), an antibiotic ointment for the possible infection and calamine lotion to sooth me at night.

Hopefully this will work cause I'm sick of my arms looking like a mine field.

Monday Good News

Well. Not necessarily good news. My car didn't pass smog inspection on Saturday (shhh, don't tell the LAPD) so now I've got 30 days to get 'er fixed and I took my car in to Pep Boys today and they said that a basic tune up will cover what needs to be fixed for the smog inspection, though he couldn't guarantee that it would pass. So this weekend I've got to take my car in on a Saturday morning and leave it there all day and hope to god it gets fixed cause if it doesn't then come September I'll either have to use all my savings to get another car or else I'll be back on L.A.s oh so not too terribly good public transportation. Either way sucks cause I'm not financially ready for the responsibility of car payments nor do I want to get back on the Metro.

So, like Peter Pan did for Tinkerbell, lets all clap our hands for my Camry in the hopes that my baby will pass its next smog inspection.

The War on Bugs

So I was at Comic-Con a weekend ago. I came back Sunday night and by Tuesday morning I noticed these little red welts that sprung up on my arm. I figured them for insect bites and they itched like hell. I changed my bed sheets but by Thursday I still had a new set of red bumps cropping up, this time on my legs.

My mother, god bless her, told me that I probably brought back bed bugs with me from the crappy hotel I stayed at (there were several problems with my first nights stay) and that I needed to wash my sheets in hot water, and probably all the clothes I'd worn as well.

I did her one better: I threw out both sets of sheets I'd used last week, sprayed down my futon mattress with a good dose of RAID, as well as spraying my favorite pillow and the big quilt I had. I then took my big quilt down to the laundry room and ignored the sign that said "Please don't wash big quilts" and shoved my big quilt into the washer. Even though my big quilt is multicolored I put the wash on "whites" to get that scalding hot water my sheets so desperately needed (and to also get the smell of RAID out of the quilt).

Did it work? I have no idea. New welts keep cropping up, to the point now where I'm going to mark them with clear nail polish to keep track of them. Some of the older ones are drying out I think but those little bug fuckers bit my nose and under my eye making it look like I had two bright red zits on my face. And that's what prompted my revenge via RAID.

I certainly hope it worked, 'cause i don't know what else to do beside rewash everything that came into contact w/anything I was wearing at Comic-Con and to get a new mattress, which I don't want to do.

The Written Word

Being a writer I can tell you there's a great feeling in seeing your work completed. don't get me wrong, watching a blank page fill up with your words from your imagination is a great feeling as well, but once you have it all down in that raw form, there's a tremendous sense of 1) relief and 2) accomplishment. You now have It done. And now It can be molded. It's like building a skeleton, putting the bones in place can be time consuming and at times frustrating when you're not sure of what goes where, but once you've got the frame done, or rather the first draft, then the hard part is over and you can play with your creation to your heart's content.

This is where you can see the whole story as it has been laid out and can adjust, edit, lengthen, whatever you need to do. It's a time to have fun with your creation. And I must say, seeing something that I thought up put onto paper brings me a lot of joy and reminds me of why I love to write.

I GOT ZEE JOB!!

To all my readers: I GOT THE JOB!!! Yeah! And it seems like a really great place to work so I'm truly happy. Thanks for keeping fingers and toes crossed for me. I start Monday so blogging might be sparse but I'll try.

Job Interview

I had a Very Important Job interview today, and I don't capitalize those three words to mock them, it really is a very important job, one that I really, truly want.

I think it went well. I managed to make the head guy laugh and he gave me a copy of a book he liked. I don't know if he gave every interviewee a copy but I'll start reading it just in case.

When you prepare for a job interview you can't help but to go over possible scenarios in your head. Will they ask this? How will they be sitting? Do I really not need that bottle water? Is my fly open? (no, it wasn't). How much ass do I need to kiss? I found that you can psyche yourself out by over doing this so I try to just clear my head and go with what happens when it happens. Of course afterwards I go over everything again and again and nit pick myself but it never helps so I'm trying to stop that as well.

I will find out tomorrow if I got it or not, unlike that last job interview where people have still not called me to confirm or deny employment. At this point I'd have to go with "No" and either way I really want this new job. It's right up my ally and the people seem really really nice and it's actually close to where I live so getting to work would take like, fifteen minutes as opposed to 30+ (depending on whether or not there was an accident on the 101).

Naturally I will let the whole world know either way when I know. Wish me luck:)

Vitamins

My father, being the loving father that he is, has been badgering me to buy vitamins for several weeks now, as I have been poor and only eating beans, rice, turkey sandwiches and drinking Ensure. He is afraid that I'm not getting proper nutrition and I'll get osteoporosis, dowagers, or my spine will snap in half or that my organs, in desperate need of B12, would turn against each other in a Battle Royale showdown.

Today I finally got around to buying the Centrum Silver vitamins (chewable, orange flavored) to supplant my nutritional needs also because I finally (FINALLY) got my compensation check in the mail yesterday giving me the means to afford such luxuries.

So thank you daddy, thank you for keeping on me to get the vitamins. My bones thank you, my back thanks you and my organs put down their weapons long enough to thank you:)

A Note on Self Doubt

Usually when I write I feel good about my abilities. And then I go back and take a look at it and start to worry it's not as good as I think it was. And then I start to worry that I'm not any good at all. I can be a cocky bitch, but I can also be my worst critic. Then again, isn't that how it is for artistic people? I'm writing a pilot that I hope will be my salvation in the writing world, as something that I can actually sell this fall. I know I'm way out of my league and probably skipping more steps than need be skipped but my writing is what gets me up in the morning. It's what gets me through the day, now that I don't have a real job to speak of. It makes me happy is what I'm saying although I fear the material might not be as good on paper as it is in my head.

I will have to figure out a way to counter act this...

If Your Friends Were Jumping Off A Bridge...

Yes! I'd probably jump too, mom. There are you happy now?


Though it really would depend on the bridge and whether or not I was in the mood to either kill or maim myself really badly. No one needs both legs right? They're like kidneys. And besides I wasn't planning on running anywhere...


So this is me. And this is my blog. Shiny and new. I had never intended to have my own blog, if only because I didn't figure why anyone would give a shit as to what I had to say or what was going on in my life. Which isn't much at the moment. I am between jobs and don't really have any close friends to speak of in the LA area. I do have people I talk to/hang out with occasionally but not on a regular basis.


So I spend most of my days sleeping in, going to the gym and then writing at this cute little cyber cafe I recently discovered. Oh yeah, I'm a writer. In Los Angeles. Isn't that a shock. I'd like to think of myself as unique as a snowflake but I know deep in my heart I'm about as unique as a puppy at the pound. Eventually I'll move into acting as well, my ego won't let me do otherwise, but that's down the road. After I bribe some people.


I start this blog because my friend Karen showed me her husbands also new blog and I filled with jealously. Not really, but it sounded cool;) What it did do was get me to thinking that I might want to rethink the not having a blog thing because as I am in between jobs it might give me something extra to do rather than click refresh for the Best Week Ever blog. Plus, I'm a writer, so it will allow me to actually write something every day, as I am told writers are wont to do.


So the blog will keep me from getting rusty. And give me Something. To. Do. And even though I know it'll only be my friends reading this, it's nice to meet you.