| A local station (perhaps more than one, but I've just got the one TV) covered Ahnuld's trip to his polling place this morning. At the doorway of the Brentwood whatever where he was going to vote, the Governator turns, faces the cameras, and speechifies some business about California and the importance of voting, etc. I didn't hear it all because I was getting ready for work.
But the point is this: people (not me) elected a man who is either so unaware of or so cavalier about the voting process and CA state law that he stood in the doorway of his polling place, in front of cameras, electioneering! Electioneering!
Argh. I just--argh. Why doesn't he just vote twice, while he's at it? Why doesn't someone just install him as the new president of Haiti, since we're there? I am just full of The Rage this morning. | comments: 9 comments or Leave a comment   |
| Oh, so I forgot: I'm watching that Barbara Walters thing now (well, it's on, at any rate), and has Billy Crystal had Botox? And why is it that Botox just really makes people look old but puffy? Just all. . .unnatural. Who wants to look like that? Maybe people are just overdosing on the Botox, the way they do on the tooth whitening. A little brightening is fine (I'm sure), but everyone these days seems to have this abhorrent DayGlo thing going on inside their mouths.
I think my boss got Botox. I can't be sure, since I'm not his assistant anymore, and I can't imagine he'd tell me anyway, but I almost did a spit-take when he walked into an office for a meeting on Friday. I hadn't really seen him in a week, and he'd definitely gotten his hair cut and dyed and done some tanning (and they say women are vain, feh), but his face had that creepy Botoxy smoothness to it. Maybe it was just the tanning. Maybe he had gone drinking the night before and was puffy. People should just eat their vegetables and drink more water and have fewer injections of muscle-paralyzing bacteria shot into their heads. That's my opinion on the matter. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| I think I can speak for all native angelenos when I say that there is something about living in the host city for the Oscars that others just can't understand. It's that special feeling we all get one Sunday night a year--months of anticipation leading up to three magical hours that mean one thing: no, absolutely no traffic on the streets!
Yes, I took full advantage of that tonight, doing some errands and driving around pretty much for the heck of it. My house to Whole Foods in under five minutes! A left turn in one light! It was even more of a welcome respite from the last several weeks of NBA All-Star/Valentine's Day/Three-day-weekend-Grammys-Golden Globes-SAG Awards-Toyota Sellathon-poisonous guacamole scares-etc.-etc. business. Now go away everyone, just go away!
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It's great to live in a solidly Blue state, but it's a little sad that absolutely none of the candidates feel any need to campaign here. I've heard so many stories of the great and sometimes malicious ads the candidates are running; all we get here is the Governator pimping his backpedaling litttle propositions. I did see one girl taping two Edwards signs to a lightpost and Lyndon LaRouche seems to have spent a couple bucks on signs for Wilshire Blvd., but that's the extent. The city councilman seat is being more hotly contested. One of the contenders even had one of those trucks equipped with a bullhorn spreading his message around town.
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Saw "Big Fish" w/![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) berthabug and her man on Saturday. It was pretty much as I'd expected: interesting, but (disappointingly) not fascinating. Oddly, a trailer for "Agent Cody Banks" ran before the movie. People were lining up over an hour ahead of time to get into the theater for "Passion."
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A big change is coming at the job. It's either going to be fabulous and life-changing and inspirational or suckish and bleh. At least the worst option is "suckish and bleh", and not the converse of "fabulous" (etc.), "disastrous." | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| it's amazing how busy I was over the last two years. Every day for the last couple of weeks or so, I've had time to do things like wash my dishes, run errands after work and. . .well, update the LJ. When I walk past the new assistant's desk these days, I am absolutely horrified at all the things she's doing! I think, was I ever that busy? How did I keep track of all of that? I apparently do not need much time to break out of that worky-worky mold.
I almost joined an office softball team. Softball being, of course, the one sport that I absolutely cannot play with any degree of flagging competency. My plans were foiled when the league the office wanted to join wouldn't allow coed teams. Rather than go all Pursuit of Happiness on them, I took this as a sign from God that I shouldn't mess with His plan and not to play the softball.
It's raining here in L.A., and that's lovely. While I'm sitting in my warm apartment listening to it, that is. Not so lovely tomorrow morning as I grouse my way to the gym.
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Went to an 80's convention with my friend Stacey and her friend Joe on Sunday. I saw my first cover bands: covers of Adam and the Ants, The Smiths, The Police and Oingo Boingo. I was impressed with all the cover bands except the Police's cover band. The lead singer looked like that lying disaster monkey, George W., and sang like he wanted to be in a Clash cover band. Even stranger, Ian Copeland (of the spilling-a-drink-on-me-at-his-bar fame; also of being a brother of a Police member fame) introduced the band and said that they were endorsed by the Police guys. Perhaps because they seem that much better in comparison. Joe won a Frankie Say Relax t-shirt, but it was too small for him, so he gave it to me! I am the coolest kid on my block.
At the convention, this guy came up to me and said, "I LOVE your hair." I had it all. . .well, natural, which means very curly. I was going for Whitney in "I Wanna Dance with Somebody", and pretty much nailed it. I told him that I was only working the hair for tonight, and he said, "wear it all the time! I'm a child of the 80's, and I love it!" A reason to NOT wear the hair all the time in 2004, I'd think. But he was adorable. He shook my hand because of the hair. It's better when (assumedly) gay men want to shake my hand on account of my modified afro than when straight men want to shake my hand because I'm. . .tall. Much better.
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Speaking of the Frankie t-shirt. . .I haven't watched it in about three years, but can someone tell me--is "Friends" still a comedy? Because the promos are always making every episode sound serious as a heart attack: "Just a few episodes left. . .and Monica and Chandler prepare to move away. . .and one of the friends gets shocking news [slo-mo clips of friends reacting to shocking news, Strings of Irretrievable Loss play in background]." And the promos have been like that for at least two years now. Seriously. Is Friends nouveau melodrama? It certainly seems tragic that Phoebe, that old hag, was able to trick Paul Rudd into marrying her. I've always hated Phoebe.
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The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you--
Then, it will be true.
( Theme for English B, Langston Hughes ) | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| There's this guy at my new company--. No, that's the wrong way to start this story. There is this window at my new company, a window set into the front of an office across the hall, and it looks out onto a bigger window, the window that forms the back wall of said office, and in turn looks outside the building. Sitting at my desk in my new office, I'm in a perfect position to look through one window and out the other and see the glorious outdoors. I had a window in my last office, and even though my back was to it, I liked looking out every now and then. Unfortunately, that office is occupied with the aforementioned guy, and I really need to start training myself to not look out of his window anymore, because he is going to think I hate him or love him (or possibly both, and that the covergence of my two disparate sentiments will drive me to co-worker-icide). Even without intentionally looking, my office door and his office window (and isn't that weird? who puts windows there?) are sort of situated directly opposite each other across a large hallway, so it's sort of like we're looking at each other if we look up, anyway. I used to work in the office next to my boss's, and he'd had the wall between us turned into a large sliding glass door, so I felt a bit like I was in a terrarium. Also, couldn't look up without looking at each other. I had hoped to escape that. I guess you can't have everything. I guess things could be worse.
In fact, they were a few weekends ago when one of my UK coworkers threw me under the bus faster than you can say "wardrobe malfunction" and I was so frustrated and tired, I seriously considered just quitting. Fortunately, my boss realized (a day late, but ah well) that I was in no way at fault. Even though the other person never suffered repercussions, at least the blame was removed from me.
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I've been quite the little joiner lately. A book club and a Survivor Night gathering and--well, that's it. But I'm still looking for a weekend sports thing and perhaps a writers' group. I was motivated by a spate of half-dreaming panic attacks on the weekends, where I'd groggily wonder what I was going to do during the day and an evil little voice shrieked, "nothing! you have no friends! you will be alone forever!"
Evil voice, you lie!
The truth is that I've just been very busy (for approximately the last year and a half), as have my friends. I live about half a mile from berthabug, but saw her about two times in as many months. But the evil little voice got me moving, anyway. And now, since my quasi-promotion, I figure I'll have more time. I'll definitely have a lot more time if it continues to take my boss weeks and weeks to settle on my new job description, because you can bet cash money that I'm not doing work that may end up having been pointless. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| So, these aren't really pictures of Howard Dean, are they? I'd maybe buy the middle one. . .but. . .no, right? "YEEAAAAWWWWGH!" is funny; this is a little scary.
Yes! Bennifer is back in the news! I was obsessed with the media's obsession with Bennifer all through the summer. The way they fell over each other (and themselves) to get a scoop, even to lie about getting a scoop, was fabulous and so completely, refreshingly, without artifice, insane. I'm ready for another round!
I forgot the third thing. Oh yeah. I thought American Idol was going to be fairly unfunny this year, after a lackluster first episode or two, but the third restored my confidence a bit. Of course, NBC's cracked-out scheduling of The Apprentice caused me to miss yet another episode. And this is, again, why I need Tivo.
Does "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" sounds dangerous and possibly deadly to anyone else? Like, I know that ABC is just hiring Ty Pennington to remodel some houses (and rather conservatively, at that)--but the initial image that title brings to mind is, like. . .tying someone's crooked tooth to the bumper of a Toyota Sequoia and hitting the gas to straighten things out. Also, hasn't the notion of "extreme" worn out its welcome? | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| I just talked to Jody, of "Jimmy quit, and Jody got married" fame! I didn't even know there was an actual Jody until ten minutes ago! I don't know which excites me more, that there is an actual Jody, or that I got to speak to him!
My last two entries have been sort of celebrity-heavy. Unfortunate, but necessary.
Jody broke up the band, man! | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| I’ve got some questions.
Who was in charge of Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler’s appearances for their new movie? Sandler looks like a blobby, stubbly pig of a man, and Drew doesn’t look much better. I mean, if they were trying to make it realistic that Drew would be attracted to Captain Corpulent, well then. . .I guess. . .
So there’s a big hubbub (which I’d heard about, then forgotten about, then remembered, thanks to CB) about the Vatican being a little testy that Mel Gibson et al decided to tell the world that the Pope said something about his “Passion” flick. The Pope allegedly said, “it is as it was.” Sure, you could spin that as positive, but it could also be noncommittal, and it could also be JP saying, “this? This is what you bring me? This, I know!” (yes, I just did a Jewish Pope. No, not sure why). This raises many questions. But my question will be, what did Mel really think he was going to do with the PopeQuote? “A stunning realization. . . .epic yet painfully personal”—Kenneth Turan, L.A. Times, “Truly the greatest story ever told!” – Richard Roeper, Ebert and Roeper at the Movies, “It is as it was” – The Pope, The Vatican. Yeah, because that wouldn’t have looked cheesy and not a little blasphemous to a large part of the intended audience.
Uggs? I just. . .Uggs?
My job requires that I work with famous people, and for some reason this causes other people that I work with to make rude comments about the famous people. Why? It’s weird. Maybe people think that I wouldn’t like the famous people that I work with—but even if that were true, it’d be outrageously unprofessional of me to engage in rude and gossipy conversation about said famous people.
Hmm. I thought I had more questions. Oh, yeah. Michael Jackson: who is surprised? Really, is this news? Networks, cable channels, print media—news? Furthermore, is it news that he is a sad, sad desperate famewhore who has been so screwed in the head for so long that he treats his court appearances like celebrity engagements? I can visualize perfectly him sweeping through the foyer in a caftan, declaring that it’s the pictures that got small. Not news. Don’t waste my time.
And this: Ben Stiller, romantic comedy hero? Why? Who keeps making that decision? I realize that he was great in Reality Bites, and I think that’s what started this whole trend, but he was the comedy part of romantic comedy in that movie. Remember, all Type A and having the weird little Planet of the Apes figurine on his desk, and then wanting Winona to sell her soul? Ethan and his subsidized chocolate bars were the romance of that movie.
Dennis Rodman? Actually, that needs to be not a question, but an exclamation: NO!
You know, speaking of that, wasn’t Winona like, 21 and getting her little deal with CrazeeTV or whatever to produce her documentary that sold out her friend Andy Dick's painful coming out? That seems a lot less realistic now than it did. . .ten. . .years. . .ago. Wow. I am so old. I still remember reading the Sassy article about Ben Stiller when he was editing the film. I remember having chemistry study groups to the soundtrack. I. . .have aged. How’d that happen?
Oh, Jon Stewart is so funny. You all saw the part of Dean's rally speech last night, where he lists off the states left for him to campaign in, with his tone growing ever more excited until he sort of growl/yells out the last few states and ends with some sort of prehistoric screech? Well, Jon's commentary on that was something to the effect of, "Dean will be driving to all of those states in Truckasaurus. And he'll be doing it on SUNDAY, SUNDAY, SUNDAY!!!" I love monster truck rally jokes. And the Simpsons. And Dean, my easily excitable cheesehead candidate! Stewart rules. | | comments: 16 comments or Leave a comment |
| Martin Luther King Day always makes me a little emotional. I’m not sure why—I’m a history buff, sure, and the struggles and stories of battles, soldiers and presidents affect me to a degree. I just don’t get worked up about Washington and Lincoln (give us our two holidays back, stinkers!) the way I do about Dr. King, Jr. Maybe it’s very personal and slightly selfish: that in the back of my mind, I understand that without his work, I might not even exist.
That’s probably only a small part of it, though: he cared about the basic fundamental rights of people everywhere; he inspired millions of other people to care enough to sacrifice time and energy, and risk their way of life for something unknown. Of course it all seems like a foregone conclusion now, but the people marching with Dr. King were getting dogs and firehoses turned on them in the streets. It probably occurred to more than one person that using a different water fountain and being treated like a third-class citizen (or, I suppose more accurately, 3/5ths of a person) wasn’t that bad compared to open warfare.
But that wasn’t King’s view; and he effected (or helped to effect) great change. It’s a change that seems even more profound and accomplished in retrospect: it feels like he did more work for civil rights in 13 or so years than has been done in the 36 since his death. The blacks got up to the front of the buses, but not the Fortune 500 companies; women still make just 60 cents on the dollar; gays can’t get married. People care about this, but not enough. Not enough to do anything about it, not enough to take a stand that could alienate them from the status quo. “People” includes me, inside of my glass house over here. That does shame me, and I do want to work on my lack of activism. Martin Luther King (and vis-à-vis King, Gandhi)’s accomplishments resonate with me more every year this day comes around. I certainly do have enough of The Rage, as CB would say, to spur me to action.
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My cheesehead candidate placed third in the Iowa horserace! This is disappointing but not catastrophic. I like that things got shook up; I want the cheesehead to win, but not be anointed. And anyone who comes out of this has got to be ready to tackle the Rove machine, so healthy competition can’t hurt. Also, I think Edwards’s support is an anomaly: not only did he get Kucinich’s voters in IA, but no one’s bothered to dig up any dirt on him. And there’s some dirty dirt there, what with his limited experience and the fact that he’s a multi-millionaire trial lawyer who’s never done any pro-bono (or, I believe, civil rights) work. That’s sorta weird. I still like him (I like them all, to varying degrees, except GOP Joe, Al and Krazy Dennis K), but—that’s weird, innit?
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I saw Master and Commander last night (with my mom—after the Mystic River episode, I figured that she owed me one). It had all the realistic seafaringy goodness that I’d hoped for. Also, I’m starting to come around on the whole Russell Crowe thing. Not the whole “finding him attractive” thing (I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and I’m sure he’s crushed), but on the whole “finding him an appealing actor” thing. He’s still got a little bit of damage control to do for starring in a movie about math (my dislike of math knows really no bounds), but on the upswing, generally.
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Missed Alias again. At 8:30, I thought, “must set VCR, since I’m leaving at 9:00 to see Master and Commander.” Between that time and 9:00, I somehow forgot. This is getting annoying. I need Tivo! And then I need Tivo even more because American Idol is up against a Laker game tonight. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| This made my year:
Charles Barkley blushing all over his great big bald head after Ernie ran a clip of Carson "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" Kressley talking about Charles being a "cutie" and a "hottie" and one of the hottest NBA players (I guess the Queer Eye guys are doing one of those "I Love This Game" promos). Blushing bright crimson and trying not to giggle (or wheeze, I don't know if guys big as Charles giggle) while Magic, Ernie and Kenny cracked up. And then saying that he refuses to be called a "cutie", and prefers "sex symbol" or something like that. Ha! HA! And Magic says, "you know he's remembering you in those little shortie shorts."
And then Kenny says something about, "what's the name of your favorite club in Atlanta?" And Charles gets this "oh nooo" look on his face and goes, "The BULLDOG!" And that's a gay bar name if I've ever heard one, and you know there's some story behind that, and I love how almost every straight man I know has a gay bar story.
But. . .Carson? Charles Barkley? As a cutie? I mean, I love Sir Charles now and all, but he was mighty prickly back in the old days. All of the other Queer Eye guys looked a bit surprised at that revelation as well. It was Charles and Dennis Rodman for Carson. Also a prickly character.
And now it's this weird segment with Grant Hill where he's talking about his surgeries and how people say athletes die twice and they're showing paintings of Malcom X and "This Little Light of Mine" is playing in the background. Mood killer, TNT! | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| @#&^%!
That's it; I need to get Tivo. I need Tivo because I have friends that I never ever see anymore and then when our free time schedules match up, it is inevitably at 9:00 pm on Sunday night and I miss Alias because I was out shopping and it's really rude to say, "excuse me, but I have to go home to set the tape for the first new Alias in a dog's age. I'll be back."
Drat.
(and there isn't a lot of literature that deals with wanting a DVR so you can still see your friends and watch spy shows, so. . .Shakespeare in a pinch. Always.) | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| The L.A. Times tells us: Schwarzenegger Pushing to Raise College Fees 10% to 44%
SACRAMENTO — Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger plans to propose a 10% fee increase for Californians attending college at the University of California and California State University and a fee hike of up to 40% for graduate students at the universities, sources familiar with the governor's budget said Wednesday. . . .
At the same time, the budget is expected to contain reductions in college financial aid for students from moderate-income families.
This doesn't surprise me. The money had to come from somewhere. People would rather take advantage of the CA initiative process and install a political neophyte so that they don't have to pay car tax, fine. But no complaining now about how kids won't get to go to school, probably more than the number who'd have suffered under Davis's wacky, zany plan of simply returning the license renewal fees to their 1999 levels, so that we'd get some money in from somewhere.
And this just in: the Governator is diverting the scant few property tax dollars the state collects away from cities for "other programs." And he's flip-flopped on his bond-selling stance.
You know, I'm sure Ahnuld's got good intentions. And it's not his fault (nor was it Davis's) the state itself is in a really crappy situation, what with no one wanting to pay any taxes on anything, ever, loss of major industries (tech, film, and even defense still), and a large (and ever-growing) class of illegal workers whose piddly salaries not only do not allow them to contribute much to the economy, nor are they taxed. . .etc. But it is his fault (and a lot of other voters) that he's in his particular situation right now, hamstrung by his own initial ignorance of the situation and pledges not to tax residents (angry, angry residents). And it miffs me a bit to think of all that time and money wasted on voting out a governor who wanted to take money out of our front pocket to vote in another who will take it out of the safe in our bedrooms.
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In other news, my presidential nominee of choice is a cheesehead! Is YOUR presidential nominee of choice a cheesehead?
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In other other news, I wanted to write not about government, but about the first book I read this year, which was Songbook, by Nick Hornby. I've been wanting to write about that for a couple of days now, but I haven't done a good job of translating my thoughts and feelings to words (and that's just for a few sentences about a short book! What's wrong with me?). Short version: it was a great book, and in line with my pledge to read more books this year, but might cause me to violate my other two pledges for this year, which makes it a very unfortunate choice par moi.
The next book will be either Pompeii or The DaVinci Code, both of which I hear are historical thrillers, and so the geek in me thrills.
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Yet other news/style update: In keeping with my "More Books, Less Music" theme, I'm going to attempt to switch from song lyrics to prose quotes for subjects. This will require help of both my Bartlett's and my own notebook that I keep for recording favorite quotes (answers to your questions are: yes, really; since I was 12; I said I was a geek already, so let's move on) to find relevant ones. I've imposed the rule on myself that I can't use a Bartlett quote unless I've read it before. Seems fair enough. | | comments: 14 comments or Leave a comment |
| As my glorious first-time-in-a-year two-week vacation winds to a close, I find myself wanting to "make the most of it" and stay up 24 hours a day. A secondary benefit of this plan is that it will make getting up at 6:00 a.m. and going to work (aiee) on Monday (aiee) that much more painful than if I'd gotten a proper amount of rest--making me appreciate the vacation even more!
Once in college, I decided to stay up for 48 hours straight before my first final. I slept through an hour of the exam, and was awakened by my roommate because my professor had called to ask where I was.
I have the most boring and half-baked destructive streak ever. Some of my friends in college got involved with ghetto coke dealers, some had random (and possibly unprotected) sex with homeless Europeans, some rode around on their bikes at 1:00 a.m. from 55th to State via Lake Shore Drive. Me? I stayed up real late!
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I took a look back at last year's resolutions, and I am surprised to find out I kept most of them, even though I made them up on the spot like the year before (I figured I'd set myself up for failure if I put things I honestly cared about under the NYR title). This year is a bit different: I got myself into a few situations during the vacation that I have vowed to avoid in the future. Since I made these resolutions before and independent of New Year's Eve, I feel that they are free from potential jinxing, and I can reproduce them here.
#1: Don't argue with the pretentious and self-righteous, even if they are intellectuals. ( lengthy explanation )
#2: Don't let Mom pick the movies. ( lengthy explanation )
#3: Stop buying so many CDs, buy more books (and read them). ( lengthy explanation )
So, resolutions that should be simple enough to keep. (Note: I said nothing about not pushing the buttons of gaseous blowhards anymore.)
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Went shopping today (again), and succumbed to the Gap and bought more stuff there than I'd gotten anywhere else (did not have gift certificates to the Gap, because I do not want to shop at the Gap anymore!). The customer at the register next to me told her curious checker-outer that she was from Ireland, and my checker-outer immediately parroted, "ahrr-luhnd" in a fake Irish accent. I was just thinking, "I can't fault her for that, it's an annoying knee-jerk habit I have myself" when she said, "I wonder if they get annoyed when we imitate their accents." I said probably yeah, but I do it too, and I can't help it, and we were bonding over that until she busts out with "yeah, America is a sad place." And I was like, "dude, you should perhaps rethink your place of employment if that is your particular worldview." Only, that's just what I thought. What I said was, ". . . yeah. . ." because if I'm not debating snotty intellectuals anymore, I certainly don't want to get into it with Team Member Ginny.
Happy New Year, Y'all!
*?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!???????????????? | | comments: 7 comments or Leave a comment |
| For at least the fifth time this decade, L.A. radio station 103.1 has changed formats. Its last incarnation--a dance station--lasted less than a year. Now it's being billed as "your favorite indie and alternative", and from what I've heard on their playlist, that means a lot of early-to-mid-nineties' alt rock (back when "alternative" was a legitimate definition for a genre. Is anyone else old enough to remember that? Sonny? Sonny, where are you going? Come back here and sit a spell, let gamma tell you about sumpin' called Usenet!). Breeders, Morrissey, Mazzy Star, Soundgarden (a LOT of Soundgarden), GnR, some Metallica, PJ, RATM, etc. The only "new" song I've heard is that Gary Jules/Crowded House cover (twice). Instead of making me happy, it just makes me feel old. "Your favorite" is just doublespeak for "old rock tunes that don't fit on modern playlists anymore." "My" music is now old enough to have its own golden oldies radio format!
It's not like I didn't know this day was coming. I knew the writing was on the wall that fateful day in the late 90's, when "Sin" got played on the flashback lunch right next to "Pretty In Pink". But still! Time, she marches on.
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Tomorrow I'm going to meet with a financial planner. I'm definitely intrigued, if a bit too cautious to be excited. This initial meeting will be free, so I'm not sure how much she'll tell me. I'm also not sure how I'll decide if she's worth paying for further advice, since the whole reason I'm seeking CFP advice is because I know diddlysquat about money and saving and investing it. I guess it'll be just like finding the right person to marry--you just Know. I'm also meeting with another CFP Tuesday.
I know a major problem for the prospective CFPS will be that I don't really know what I'm going to be saving this money for. I'm going to get asked that question, and my response will be something like, "well, I just want to have money. Enough so that I don't ever have to worry about getting a major appliance fixed/losing my job/having my car blow up/needing to fly immediately to Guam and assume another identity. I don't want anything in particular, except to never be without money. Or in debt." Maybe the way I'll pick a CFP is by demanding that they put a dollar amount to that particular financial goal of mine. Best answer wins!
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I agreed to see a movie or two with my mom over my vacation. Unfortunately, the movies I want to see are Master and Commander and The Hot Viggo Show, and I can't properly explain why I want to see either of those, so I am not about to force anyone else to sit through them with me. Even MORE unfortunately, however, this left the movie-decision-making to my mother, and she has selected Mystic River and Something's Gotta Give. And--oh dear. Neither of these movies can be described with either of the two words "action" or "comedy"*, which is sort of my litmus test on whether I'll want to see a film. Lately, sad and/or thought-provoking movies just make me sad and nervous; and, as you can tell from yesterday's entry where lack of stamps and a dollar fee caused me to have a full-blown episode, it's best that I stay away from anything that will upset me, when I possibly can. My only hope is that she forgets about this whole movie-going thing entirely. It's happened before.
*It's a movie where Jack Nicholson, in all his flabby, hairy glory, gets to sleep with Amanda Peet, and the stunning-at-whatever Diane Keaton's naked body gets played for laughs. Not a comedy, no matter what propaganda you may hear. Tragedy. | | comments: 24 comments or Leave a comment |
| I had a fabulous Christmas, and I hope y'all did, too. Or a merry Dec. 25. I am in the middle of a wonderful two-week vacation, and am beginning to feel human again. It's great beyond all whooping. Also great is that I have run into a windfall or two (check for unused vacation time from the old company, gift, uh, gift certificates, etc.), meaning I can do some truly guilt-free shopping. That is the very best kind of shopping! I went out with my mom the day after Christmas, but I practiced some uncharacteristic restraint, wanting to see what was available at a variety of malls before spending all my cash. Today I set out for the Beverly Center with high hopes.
Well, that whole thing didn't turn out quite as fabulous as planned. I didn't see a single thing that I liked. I didn't buy anything! I tried to go shopping and I couldn't, and I was so upset! I felt like Julia Roberts in that scene from "Pretty Woman" where she's shoving that wad of cash into Hector Elizondo's hands and saying, "I tried! I tried to buy nice clothes! I have all this money!" and bursting into tears.
Okay, no, I didn't really feel like that.
Yes I did!
I really did, but not because I couldn't find anything to purchase. Much like Julia, who was upset that the women in that horrible blandy mcblandster store were rude to her, I was upset for reasons entirely separate from the bad selection at French Connection (oh, accidental rhyme!). I was upset because I'd just finished Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them, and while the book itself is highly enjoyable and left me smiling, it got me started thinking about other politics-related issues that consistently bother me, and that got me started me thinking about non-politics-related issues that similarly bother me, and then I was just all worked up and I'd already gone to the post office which was CLOSED, at 11:30 am, and I couldn't get stamps, and then I got to the Beverly Center and realized I'd forgotten one of my gift certificates at home and would have to go back to retrieve it, and then the imperialist Beverly Center parking kioskfrau tried to charge me a dollar for having had my car in there all of SIX MINUTES and . . .
So by the time I got back to the mall, I just was in a very disgruntled state, and probably should have stayed home and had an ice-cream sandwich. And a nap.
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My friend Candi keeps insisting that I watch a certain movie, one that she's sure I'll love. The only problem is that I can never remember whether it's Mulholland Drive or Laurel Canyon. I know that it should be simple enough to distinguish between the two sets of completely different words. But! Both are streets in Los Angeles, where I live, so my brain has filed the movie rec under "familiar city street", and that is no help when I go to the video store (especially since Candi won't tell me the plot). Even though I saw her two nights ago and asked her about the movie again, it did no good because I just realized that I've been watching a film called Mulholland Falls for the last hour. The good thing is that it was just on TV, I didn't rent it. The bad thing is that there is no street (or even area) called Mulholland Falls, so I'm just drifting farther and farther from ever being able to remember the title properly. Pretty soon I'll be watching for 42nd Street.
I don't think Mulholland Falls is very good, despite having John Malkovich, Rob Lowe, Melanie Griffith (in spite of, in that case?), Chazz Palminteri, Nick Nolte, Jennifer Connolly, Treat Williams, a Baldwin, Andrew McCarthy and that guy from CSI in what is now a retroactive cameo. But then again, I was also really confused, waiting for it to become the kind of movie that Candi would like, so go ahead and see it if you're so inclined. | | comments: 8 comments or Leave a comment |
| I just got my second personal (that is, non-solely-business-related) Christmas card of the year, and it's from this girl who I used to work with who I avoid like the plague. She started out nice, three years ago, but has since grown ever-stranger and argumentative (for example, I once said that JC of NSYNC did not have a mullet, and she disagreed. This was in 2001, and she's still disagreeing, although I've long given up caring or [even arguing that he doesn't have a mullet, for that matter]).
The other card was from this guy who is really nice to me, all the time, even though I never go to any of the shows he invites me to (he's a manager), and even once orchestrated this elaborate ruse where I went to the venue, got my tickets and then left so that my name would be crossed off the guest list and it would look as though I'd gone. I only keep lying because he's so nice and I feel like it'd be rude to say no. It's not so much that I just don't want to go as that I don't think I'd like the music and don't want to go alone, but how could I ask any of my friends to go with me to some random club to hear music that even I'm not excited about? It's way better to tangle myself up in a really complex web of half-truths and full-out lies.
Clearly, this Christmas card pattern is just evidence that I am looking at a long life of loneliness and awkward personal relationships. (And I find that amusing! Truly!)
. . .Seeing that I can look behind me and see that's where I've come from, it's sort of comforting! I know the territory. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| I remember last year around this time I was trying desperately to get someone to see the Lord of the Rings movie with me. Even my friends who loved Viggo as much as I did refused to sacrifice the three hours of their lives. I needed someone to go with me, you see, to talk to me during the non-Viggo parts and keep me awake. This year I'm not even going on that fool's errand; I'm prepared to wait until next September to rent the video so I can watch what I affectionately term "The Hot Viggo Show." You know, I wish that I appreciated the movies for the great works of art that they are (I don't wish that at all about the books), but I don't, and I've come to accept that.
I can't wait for the Narnia movies. My turn to have cherished books turned into groundbreaking, epic serial films! If Viggo could play Aslan, too, that'd be great.
Aslan. That would've been a great name for a late-70's prog-rock band. I can totally see the t-shirts, with a Times-esque serif font (with the serifs curling, of course) that reads "ASLAN" and a big ugly picture of a lion's face looking upwards. It's so perfect that it makes me think it actually happened.
Oh wow, it did happen! That just makes me think that I've heard of that band before, and forgot. | | comments: 6 comments or Leave a comment |
| Oh, I discovered this totally great thing this morning: if I hit the snooze button once on my alarm clock, it will reset for nine minutes later. However, if I hit the snooze button twice, it will reset for 18 minutes later. And so on. And so on. This comes in really handy on the mornings when I realize too late that I don't want to get up at 6:00 am to go to the gym, but actually that I want to get up at 8:00 am with just enough time to go to work. I've had this alarm clock for three or four years, and the idea never occurred to me. It took true desperation to sleep in that caused that mental breakthrough. Necessity's child, really.
It's been quite some time since I updated. I shouldn't try to make any sort of pledge to myself about keeping the LJ current, because I think X (amount of pledge) is inversely proportional to Y (follow-through). I do have a reason, though, if not an excuse: quite a lot's happened in the last few weeks, some of it good, some of it pretty horrible, and all of it distracting.
I'd like to write about that at some point, but right now I'm going to jot down a few other things that have happened recently. This is because I'll probably remember how I felt about the last two or three weeks for quite some time, but I might forget these less important details.
I met a girl whose boss is sort of a cutie, and young, and very very very wealthy. I met the boss's wife, and she is like, old and dog-faced. It makes me feel two things: happy that while love is blind, it is alive and (otherwise) well, and very very bitter that I don't have a cute multi-millionaire husband, too.
I have a new office! And I went to my new office's Holiday party, and had my tarot read (correct expression?) by a tarot reader there. It was pretty much all I expected: the woman got a good read on my personality and then interpreted the cards based on who she thought I was and what my reactions were or would be. Or maybe she like, totally divined my spirit or whatever. Not to knock all tarot readers. But it's not hard to tell that I'm guarded and judgmental, is it? I've had regular people call me on that within minutes of meeting me, too. She seemed fixated on me getting a man ("love of my life") in "three to six months", though. So if that happens, we'll know she. . .made a really lucky guess. It was fun, though. And it never hurts to be able to unload your issues on a disinterested 3rd party.
It's really too cold in L.A. right now. Why is it so cold?
When I was 19, I interned at MCA Records with this super-annoying girl. The most annoying thing about this girl was that her daddy got her a paid internship and she complained about the low wages. Runner-up annoyances were: she was always talking about how cool she was to go to Skybar or some similarly cheesy Sunset Blvd. hotspot, she made stupid comments about the music industry, and she never had to do much work. I assumed that this girl was always going to flounce through life with her Kate Spade bag collection, allowing her daddy to place her at cushy jobs. Well, her resume ended up in my inbox this week, forwarded by a friend who knows her boss. It would appear that this girl is going to lose her assistant position at Dreamworks, because Dreamworks is folding. I am never happy to hear that someone is losing a job, but I am a bit tickled to think that maybe, just maybe, in my case, hard work did not go unrewarded!
Last night, I was so desperate to read something, anything, that I picked up The Spoils of Poynton. Fer Pete's sake, I couldn't wait to get rid of that book fast enough the first time! And I actually enjoyed 20 pages of James's prose until I came to my senses. | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| Carol Moseley Braun is wearing red at the debate again. I know that all the men are wearing black (or navy--my TV's colors could be slightly off) suits again, but it isn't really the same thing. None of the men are wearing a bright red suit for (at least) the second time. I know everyone needs their thing, but is she trying to be Jack White?
I guess it mostly bothers me because radioactive tomato isn't anyone's color, and when transmitted over the airwaves and onto my TV screen, it makes her look like she's just ready to pop right off the tube. She has valuable things to say, but I can't concentrate on any of them because I'm too busy being distracted by that optical illusion (woooo . . . ) I'm afraid that someone told Carol that this color would demonstrate her vibrant and unique character. As if being a black woman running for President (in a lovely muted brick-red set) wouldn't demonstrate that sufficiently.
In other news, I am beginning to be embarrassed for Kerry. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
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