Another Blog For Both of Us To Ignore...

Don't Fly With Me.

Having just returned from NY a few hours ago, I can tell you one thing for sure… airplane travel brings out the worst in me. For some reason, I got really enraged when people applauded after we landed at LAX. It’s not like we were circling Baghdad and managed to avoid missiles while landing! The pilot even said so himself that there was 100% visibility. He even said infinite or some ridiculous word like that. I also hate when people don’t follow the natural order of clearing out the row; you let the person in the row in front of you leave the plane first, you don’t cut them off so they’re stuck in their row. I’m trying to think of some positive things to say so I don’t sound totally bitter. I’m excited to start work again tomorrow… there, that’s something positive.

Somehow I ended up with twice the amount of crap in my suitcases than I had when I left. Why I brought 4 ties back with me I have no idea.. I think it’s because I have this little built in tie rack thing in my closet (at least that’s what I assume it is) and I feel like it should be full. Oh! One more airplane complaint. But this one is kind of funny. On the flight to NY the flight attendant lady came around…

Flight attendant: And sir, what what would you like to drink?

Me: Uhhhh… just a coffee.

Flight attendant: Cream and sugar?

Me: Hm….. yeah…. yeah, cream and sugar.

Flight attending: (laughing)

Me: What?

Flight attendant: No, nothing, that was just such an LA thing, off in your own little world!

And then she walked away!! Can you believe that shit? I mean yeah, I was being all slow and stuff, but it was really early. Plus I haven’t lived out here long enough to do stuff that’s ‘so LA’. I should’ve done something ‘so NY’ and told her to fuck off. 

And So It Begins.

“It” being the moving process. “It” also being the loss of my sanity. Pick one. You can’t have both.

My bed is in several pieces up against my wall. I’m actually surprised how easy the process was of taking it apart, considering Ikea prides itself on being impossible to assemble/disassemble. What I once considered to be a creative way to add space to the room (adding square mirrors to the wall in strategic places) has now proved to be the bane of my existence. Prying them off is a huge bitch and it leaves behind the worst glue marks. That’s coming out of the deposit for sure. 

I also hate this process because I’m confronted with horrible decisions, like do I keep every issue of Entertainment Weekly from the past 6 months? What if one of them becomes valuable? What if someone needs one someday? I think it’s best to throw them all away, because if I kept them I’d be bordering on ‘pack rat’, and we all know I’d rather be associated with ‘rat pack’. 

I also started a new job this week and I think I make it more stressful than it really should be. So this week, I’m going to try to take it easy and not get so tense at work. Why? Because then I have to come home and pack more shit up, or try to pry more glue off the wall. One needs a sense of humor to get the aforementioned shit done, or else one will go mad. (To clarify, I’m ‘one’ in this situation.) 

Back to work I go… expect more posts soon, each chronicling my slow decline into Mad Hatter territory. 

Blast!

I hate hearing about other people’s dreams, so you’re invited to ignore this post. To warn you, though, this dream is a bit star-studded.

My phone rang right when George Clooney was giving me advice on screenwriting in my dream, so it woke me up! But it was at an after party for Duplicity and I was supposed to bring the snacks. I came in late with a picnic basket of M&Ms. Anyway, here is how it went down, and I swear on my itunes library, I’m not making this up:

As I stroll in with a picnic basket, my brother approaches me.

Him: Why are you late?

Me: Ugh! I had to finish homework for class, and everyone was asleep at home, and then I had to bring Pete over with me. (Who the hell is Pete? I have no clue!)

George overhears this and chimes in: 

George: Sure. You just didn’t want to see the movie.

Some time later.

Me: Mr. Clooney… got a question for you. Would you recommend grad school for screenwriting?

GC: You know, people always want to pick sides and say one is better than the other and everything, I say just go for it! There’s plenty of time, what’s the rush?

Then my English teacher from high school walked in and asked him for a favor for his son, after which Clooney turned to me and goes, “You won’t mind giving me a couple of minutes to help a cancer stricken youth, will you?” “Of course not!” I responded. And he left. So I sat at a desk and waited.

At some point before this, Julia Roberts was standing at the snack table and I went to set up my M&M’s, but she walked off before I could talk to her. Bitch.

Anyway, what the hell is this dream about! George Clooney isn’t even in Duplicity! Though I just read in Entertainment Weekly that he suggested Clive Owen for the part.

Nevertheless, I’m going to give some consideration to what George said to me, though I don’t think I’ll be going to grad school anytime soon. In the meanwhile, I think I’m going to make a habit of these 10 AM naps!

Nerd Alert!

Currently Reading: The Beautiful & Damned

Reading Next: A Bear Called Paddington

Making the most of unemployment. 

In the news...

Yahoo! headline…

Obama sidetracked by bonus brouhaha, but presses on

Why is the word ‘brouhaha’ in a headline? It’s hardly journalism-y. 

The Update List

This edition of the update list is brought to you by CVS. CVS: We pride ourselves in giving you really long receipts. 

Hey gang,

-I know I promised a picture of the cereal box race car after I put stickers on it. It’s finished, but I’m too lazy to open up the camera program and watch my computer freeze for five minutes while I yell curses.

-If I can be thoroughly convinced, I’ll be going on my 4th hike of the week later today. But only ‘if’.

-I joined Twitter yesterday. It’s stupid, but fine. I’m following Christopher Walken on it, and his posts make it totally worth signing up. Especially when he talks about his dog that eats extension cords and how Ashton Kutcher should be Secretary of Ironic Scarves.

-On the topic of Ashton Kutcher, I read some of his twitter stuff today. The dude can’t spell. I know, it’s a petty grievance, but seriously, ‘What would u of asked him?’… OF asked him?! No, Ashton. No. And That 70’s Show sucks.

-My new favorite spot in my room is the foot of the bed. I lean my head against the low bed frame, and I’m positioned below the window where I get the best breeze. I’ve realized I enjoy a change in the routine to keep things interesting, even if it is just  choosing where to lay in a blob-like state while I hit reload on job sites. Plus my room looks bigger from here.

-The laundry room is closed for 2 weeks! 2 WEEKS! This is after the landlord called Jenn up to beg us to stay for another year. It was an option until I realized I could only afford to wear underwear every other day until the washing machine was fixed.

-Roommate Jenn and I did a fridge clean today. How we missed that can of expired whipped cream in the past 4 fridge cleans, I’ll never know. If you ever have a mammoth appetite but are trying to eat right, I suggest cleaning out your fridge. That’ll curb the ol’ appetite nice and good.

-Has anyone heard Timebomb by Beck? It just came on my itunes. It’s a good one, and lesser-known, I feel. 

-The grocery store is mayhem on Friday afternoons. Even saw the lady from upstairs there, who silently gave me this really accusatory look as if to say, “You came here without me?” 

-I love that Obama made the special olympics joke on Leno last night. Serves him right for going on a dumb show like Leno’s, and also serves him right for getting elected president in the first place. Team Hillary for life.  

That’s enough.

Irish Dinner Preparations