It must be Christmas :)

Labels: Holidays

I leave it you to decide which of these things goes with which one of the above adjectives ;)

At 8:14PST this morning I turned 31. I have decided to embrace this - what choice have a got? LOL

I have lost aprox. 10lbs in the last couple weeks - without really trying too hard (but I'm sure it'll creep back between now and New Year's. LOL).

I cannot find work here in So Cal doing event videography, and the bank account is running dry, so I have begun looking for other employment.

My mother has been in the hospital since shortly after Thanksgiving. It's looking like she will not make it home for Christmas, and last night she had some type of seizure for which they are now testing her thoroughly. Can we all say STRESS?

My dad has a cold.

I was going to bake my b-day cake this morning, but may not do it at all since I'm not feeling like expending the energy.

I got a lovely standing rib roast on sale at Ralph's for X-mas dinner, but it's shaping up that X-mas is only going to be my dad and I, and no dining room furniture still (it's STILL in storage!! UGH)

My outgoing Christmas cards are all sitting in my purse because I've still not managed to get over to the post office before they shut and the damn stamp machines don't have any holiday stamps in them.

I FINALLY got an idea for the last part of the FSTM script, so now all I have to do is carve out some time to flesh it out and write it down. I can't begin to express how happy that makes me.

I love blogger beta!! I switched over right after my last post. Because of the option of putting labels on posts, I've been able to consolidate a couple of my blogs and still maintain my sense of compartmentalization.

I think I might go hook up the DVD player and watch Netflix movies all day - that sounds like fun.

Labels: Family, FSTM, Holidays, Technicalities, Writing

finally managed to find a few minutes to write something the other night - I have been busy (with busy work, oddly enough) and totally uninspired, but the other night I managed to write an entire poem.

calling it:
unlit cigarettes

that's all for now - just happy to get things flowing a bit again.

Labels: Writing Stats

Ok, I've just got to go on the record about something.

I was cruising through the TV channels this afternoon, and stumbled upon an episode of Pop Up Videos on VH-1 Classic. I left it on - I loved that show when I was younger!!

Pop, pop into Pop Up Videos (feel free to sing along if you know the words, lol)

Anyway, a commercial came on, and not having the remote in hand I left it on (normally I watch two shows at once - one has first priority, the other I flip to on commercials - CAN WE SAY ADD? LOL). The commercial was for Rock and Roll Fantasy Camp. Ok fine, cool, whatever. Not phased, not impressed. Then it mentioned who would be at Rock and Roll Fantasy Camp. Several of them went past without me really noticing, but then I saw: BRIAN WILSON.

Folks, we must take up a collection to free Brian Wilson from the musical equivalent of wage-slave shackles. We need an online "FREE BRIAN" T-shirt campaign.

Now, I admit I didn't always "get" the Beach Boys. Growing up, I knew about the surf music (my mom loved it), and I knew that God-awful song Kokomo that came out when I was a pre-teen/teen (depressingly, I've read that Kokomo was actually the most commercially successful Beach Boys song ever). It wasn't until I was fully into my late teens that I really found out about the genius of Brian Wilson. If you wish to argue with that characterization I point you to both the uber lauded Pet Sounds, and the slightly more obscure, but pretty good Friends (hello .... Busy Doin' Nothin' is reason enough to love the whole album). If you listen to these admittedly LSD influenced albums and still don't get the "genius" thing - I'm afraid we can no longer be friends ;P

Harmony is harmony, ladies and gents, and cannot be argued with - and experimental drug-fueled harmonies can be 'hawt'.

For Brian Wilson to be shilling himself at Rock and Roll Fantasy Camp is a serious cry for help. Like Mozart flipping burgers, Vivaldi delivering pizzas, or Schubert selling cars to make the rent - it's just WRONG!!

Labels: La Opinion

Before going over to visit my mom at the hospital this afternoon/evening (apparently she has the nastiest old harpy for a new roommate - stories to follow), before getting drive-thru dinner from Carl's Jr., and before watching Battlestar while slunk down deep in the sofa - all fat and sassy from my Western Bacon Cheeseburger - complete with dog at my side, I had to go to the store today.

We were totally out of dry dog food, and have decided we cannot live any longer without a new Swiffer/Clorox-WetJet-Moppy thing (you know what I mean, of course). So, my dad and I scooted on over to the local Albertson's - we've all decided to make Ralph's our "usual" store (there is a truly nice one not too far from the house with all the trimmings and next to no hype - we discovered it on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving while trying to find a store with a parking place left), but Albertson's is literally around the corner and sometimes it's just too convenient to pass up. So off we went. Now, for the record - and to paint a more vivid picture for you - please allow me to explain that our nearest Albertson's is a veritable Mecca for the Bichon owning, twin-set wearing, 'I can't walk four feet without needing a fresh Macchiato', 'Even my sweats are designer' crowd that I lovingly refer to as 'yuppies'. I know, technically they're not yuppies, but without stretching into the terrain of borrowing from the British usage of such glorious words as 'twat' and 'wanker', I really don't know what else to call them. BTW - I have nothing against Bichons the occasional macchiato, or a yummy twin-set (especially if it comes in cashmere, and someone else paid for it) - though I do draw the line at designer sweats - I mean, please people.

Our Albertson's has a giant deli, not to be confused with the entirely separate bakery (home of daily fresh baked artisan loaves - or so the signs say), a fromagerie, well-stocked seafood and meat departments, a built in pharmacy (a deal with Sav-on who've now been bought out by CVS, so there's a whole emotional transition period reflected in the half-changed signage) a credit union, a tobacco shop, a florist (and I'm not talking about those little stands of cut flowers some stores have by the door), and last, but never least, a Starbuck's kiosk (because you cannot be expected to walk/drive the 200 yards to the Starbucks located in the shopping center proper). It is, in other words, a monument to the OC idea of what an entire Paris block must be like, but without the charm.

Anyway, the parking lot is ALWAYS crowded to capacity with the standard issue uptight-OC-housewife vehicle, The Range Rover, with a few BMW's and sporty-raging-mid-life-crisis-cars. And EVERYONE is ALWAYS talking on their cellphones. I mean, it's a wonder they even have voices left. I know, I know - I'm probably the last person alive who tries to find a place to pull over if my phone rings while I'm driving (notice I said, TRIES - no one is perfect, and traffic is a bitch), and I seem to be the only one who feels compelled not to take up the mid-section of the isle while I stand there aimlessly talking to people I couldn't manage to talk into coming to the store with me, yet strangely cannot live without speaking to on a constant basis. And what kills me most is that these conversations are long-winded, and far-reaching, and have NOTHING to do with the task at hand. I guess I'm strange, but when I make a call from the store, it's usually to seek clarification on what I'm supposed to buy.

So, after successfully navigating the zombie-like hordes, we reached the checkout (where the savage beast in all of is soothed by 19inch LCD panels blaring "CheckoutTV", because we cannot be without constant audio-visual stimulation, for fear we might manage a coherent thought, I guess). But over and above the din of multiple TV panels, the constant beeping of the scanners, and the chatter of countless people - speaking either to other people or telephonic phantoms - I overheard half of a conversation so funny, I litterally had to bite my tongue at one point to keep from laughing. Here, ladies and gentlemen, is a make-shift transcript of the audible half of the phone call of the 20-something behind me in line, bless her heart:

Well, ya know, like, I think that like, a Starbucks giftcard would be like a really good gift, cuz like Andrea really like likes Starbucks, but she can't like afford it, ya know? And (insert forgotten man's name here) really likes it too - so I think that would, like be like a good thing to like get them, ya know? Cuz, like Andrea really likes it, she just can't like afford to like go there like really like often. [brief pause for inhalation] OMG- did I tell you what I did last week? OMG!! I went to this place, like this like spa place. OMG!! It was like amazing, I swear to God, OMG!! They exfoliated like EVERYTHING, with this like loofah thingy, OMG - and there were like these like wraps, and masks, and like stuff. OMG, it was amazing!! I've never felt like so pampered in like my whole life - I like felt like such a WOMAN! OMG - it was like great - you should totally go, really!

At that point we completed our transaction and I bit my tongue long enough to get out the doors before bursting into a full-on snort and cackle fest. It was great!!! As I said to my dad (who missed the whole thing and had to be filled in) I love going to the store, people are so much fun!

Labels: La Opinion, Local Color

I'm sitting here at 4am on Friday morning, listening to depressing music (ain't I always? LOL) inhaling deeply on an unlit cigarette (trying to eke out the sickly hint of tobacco essence available without actually setting it on fire), thinking about writing, thinking about thinking, thinking about nothing and everything.

My mom has been in the hospital since Tuesday night. My father took her over - he's nice to have around again - things fall a little lighter on my shoulders with him here (never thought I'd say that, but it's true). It's nothing major - an infection in her leg, but she has bad circulation and diabetes, so these things are always more critical than they would be on anyone else. They're pumping her full of antibiotics and sending her home soon. I would NOT admit this to anyone in my "real" life, but I'm simultaneously relieved to have a break from my mom (bad daughter material here) and worried beyond belief about her because that's my job in this life - taking care of her.

Wednesday night, after making a totally fab turkey soup and cheese bread feast for my dad and I, I filched one of my dad's cigarettes (after he went to bed), and LONGED to go out on the patio and light it up. I have not smoked a cigarette in almost 10 years, I quit shortly after my first asthma attack - being unable to breathe has a funny way of making you start to respect your lungs and their role in your continued existence. But seeing as how the urge was either to smoke, eat an entire Entenmanns cheese Danish cake thingy, or take something sharp to my arm - I went with sucking powerfully on my stolen non-combusting cancer-stick. I was surprised by how much of the aroma and flavor comes through even without applying a flame - not that I think cigarettes smell or taste particularly good - they just smell/taste like self destruction, which is what I'm going for at the moment.

And to top it all off ..... I got a parking ticket yesterday.
Why the man always gotta be hatin' on me?
Bastards!

But don't cry for me Argentina - I'll suck my brains out (I've now got a stash of two ciggies - one in the nightstand, and one in my desk drawer), write a new poem or twelve, gulp down my new addiction - Wild Cherry Pepsi - and pray for enlightenment of some sort. I need a trip to Palm Springs, a free shopping spree, or a vaguely hot boyfriend (but only for about 3 weeks).

Here are a couple "pic-ies" of the desk I mentioned before. My thrift store find, redone with free paint and stickers. I e-mailed it to one beloved friend who informed me that I should start my own business re-working ugly furniture. I like the sound of that, but it's just a thought rolling around in the midst of many others at the moment.

Labels: 3amCraftiness, In a Nutshell