Slacker Princess

2002-10-05T00:08:00.000-07:00

I've decided to step away from the internet for a while. It's eating up too much of my precious time.

I really do wish that people I've chosen to call friends would act more like a friend and less like a bastard.

Why is it that, whenever I try to be a friend to somebody, they treat me like shit? Of course, this could be the reason I have no close friends now. I'm too nervous about being abused again.

2002-09-17T15:28:00.000-07:00

Anyway. All teh bored drama is making me tired and cranky. I like Ed's World a lot. Ed was the only smart man in the world, you know.

And since it's not OVERWHELMINGLY HUGE, I'm hoping to see a few bubsters and Spartuses and Krissys and AmandaPandas over there. And lots of others too. :)

2002-09-06T18:03:00.000-07:00

Holy crap. The reserve for the e-Bay sale of the Board was met yesterday night. $9,850 AU! Jeebus fark.

That sound you're hearing would be my jaw scraping the floor.

Over four grand in American dollars. For a UBB! *blinks* *be's gobsmacked*

I'm astonished. Really. I'm not sure what to think about this. I mean, ok, good thing the board is still a going concern. But FOUR GRAND?

2002-09-04T13:57:00.000-07:00

Shit Storm, Shit Storm, Roly Poly Shit Storm...

Well, I'm faced with a sort of conundrum. There's all sorts of angsty stuff happening over at The Board, which involves a lot of people that I like being very upset. Including myself.

The guy who owns the code for the Board is trying to auction it off to the highest bidder. For over $1000 AU dollars. The reasoning behind this is that, when he pulled a power trip, and was called on it, he decided to step down out of his Head Janitor status. Now, he's selling it, and if it doesn't make reserve on e-Bay, he gets to step back into his Head Janitor role and do whatever the smeg he wants, whenever he wants, and the people who help run the board (Hey, I'm one of those people!) don't get to say a good god damn thing about it.

This pisses me off to no end. And yes, I don't care that this is a public blog. He's being a wanker, and I say this for all to hear, including said wanker.

If I had even the SLIGHTEST bit more knowledge about coding and running a UBB, I'd set up one myself. Just so that way, I'd be able to control what the devil is going on. Benevolent dictatorship. ;-)

In less drama-ridden news, I went to Toys R Us the other day, and got myself some new toys. Silly Putty should be on a short list of simple things that relieve stress. As should little green army men and Mr. Potato Heads. And Lava Lamps. I really wanted to get a Cabbage Patch Kid. They make them like they used to again, none of this silly "They eat things, like water and imaginary food and, incidentally, hair..." stuff. But they were $60! Holy cow! I had, like, 8 of them when I was a kid, and I'm pretty sure that they weren't that expensive. (Granted, this was back in the 80s, when Reagan-omics was in full swing...) There was one that had cornsilk blonde curly hair, and her name was Cynthia Breegan. Awwww!

Of course, the other reason that Chuk and I go to Toys R Us is to baby watch. Munchkins of every kind, all over the place! Baby baby baby baby! I almost went into cute convulsions.

But, wow, toys sure are different these days. Fer example. There's a new type of the old Operation game. It's the bloke with the nose, yeah, but it's only his head. It's about a foot tall, and there's a hole in the top if it. And there's little plastic gew-gaws of different shapes in there. And you have to reach into his head, see if you can tell the difference between the shapes, and pull out a specific one. It's called Operation: Brain Surgery.

Gah. Morbid. I can only imagine what this is teaching children. "Yes, honey, people have little plastic things in their heads, and it's perfectly all right to try to reach in and grab them. Also, brain surgery is easy, anyone can do it!"

Also, the television marketing tie ins are overwhelming. Ok, yeah, I had all the TV stuff when I was a kid. But the toys themselves didn't do much. My Little Ponys just stood (or sometimes sat) there. G.I. Joes didn't talk, except in my head. Legos were sold in generic packs, and sure as hell didn't become Yoda or Hogwarts when I was done with them. And Yu-Gi-Oh wasn't even a pipe dream. Hell, the guy who designed that show was still playing D&D in his mother's basement when I was 7.

Speaking of D&D... I've re-discovered how fun it is to play with a d4. That is all.

2002-09-03T14:30:00.000-07:00

Don't you just hate it when you write out a really long and angsty blog entry, only to see it vanish before your very eyes for no good reason?

I know I sure do. Blogger busy and full my sweet fanny adams.

Gonna get my own website soon, and not deal with this smeg anymore. Yes, yes I am.

2002-08-15T22:41:00.000-07:00

Ok. Lack of updates can be blamed on the media. Or space aliens. Whatever. (Hmmm, maybe the media ARE all space aliens!)

Not a lot going on, really. I mean, tours and stuff. Yeah. Good stuff happening at home. We've gotten a new fridge, two new sofas, a whole slew of nifty Ikea accessories and a digital camera.

Yes, I am a DINK*. How did you know?

My parents came and took my tour today. Which was fantastic, and I'm really glad they did. But...

Ok, daddy the proud needs to come out to see my tour. Daddy the director needs to stay at home. See, my dad, being a director, insists that he knows everything about giving a performance. So today, for the first time, I wear sunglasses on the tour. Not DARK BLACK or anything, just mildly purple. You can still see my eyes and stuff. But dad gets off the tour and says, "You'd get more laughs if you weren't wearing sunglasses."

Daddy, I love you, but you're not a Universal Tour Guide trainer. You don't know how this works. Please do not give me notes. Please do not assume that I'm getting no laughs. (Actually, I got MORE laughs with the sunglasses than I usually do. I think that the "Cool" factor comes into play. Then, when I get really doofy, it's even funnier.) My mom was mortified that he was giving me notes right in the middle of all those people. As was I.

But the rest of the day flew by, and I got over it.

So pictures coming soon. The new camera is very, very spiffy, by the way. Fuji FinePix 2600, 2.0 megapixel, optical and digital zoom. You can make little quicky movies on it, too, so that's fun. Chuk and I are having way too much fun taking pictures of each other. (And no, you can't see those pictures. THOSE will not be on-line.)

DINK = Double Income, No Kids, in case you weren't aware...

2002-07-14T09:43:00.000-07:00

From insistance from Krissy, I am updating the blog. A few days late, but what the hey.

Yesterday was a great day. Charlie and I went to the LA Natural History Museum. If you've never been, check out http://www.nhm.org/

Every summer, they do a butterfly habitat exhibit. And as I'd never seen it before, I just had to go.

Wow!

What a wonderful, beautiful world this is that has butterflies in it! We spent a good half an hour in there, just sitting around and watching the butterflies do their thing. They even had a big Luna Moth. Now that is a beautiful thing.

We also saw the 3D IMax movie about the International Space Station. Holy cow. Now that is frigging cool. My mouth was just open in amazement from start to finish. If it's playing anywhere near you, for the love of Pete, check it out! It's about 50 minutes long, and the views! I can't gush about it enough. Go see, go see, go see!

So Charlie and I are re-discovering the art of dating. And I'm thrilled. We're going to go miniature golfing next week. And if I'm working on Thursday, he, his mom, and our niece Mya are all coming to see my tour. And if I'm not working, we're all going to the park together.

Every day in every way, we're getting better and better.

2002-07-02T09:35:00.000-07:00

I have picked up the crack pipe again.

I have re-installed The Sims on my computer.

I guess that it's my way of coping with all the crap going on in my life right now. I can't have the perfect life, so I re-enact the "perfect couple" on my computer. Part of me just wants to run and hide, never again to really deal with the consequences of my actions. Bury myself forever in whatever distraction I can find. The rest of me wants to work very hard at maintaining my relationship and marriage with Charlie. But then I get to thinking about all the hurt and misery and I get discouraged and I want to hide again.

I know I haven't been very forthcoming with details on why all of this is happening. It's hard to put down here (or anywhere else, for that matter) because it is so very public. But... here goes nothing.

I cheated on Charlie.

Whew. Yeah. Nor is this the first time. And now I have to make a desicion. Try to fix my marriage, or just call it quits. You see, Charlie has left it up to me. Because he knows what he wants. And I don't.

I never have, really. For the last... God, at least five years, I've been not wanting anything. I don't want responsibility, I don't want happiness, I don't want to work, I don't want to play. I just... don't want to deal with life.

So now you guys know why I always try to focus on the positive aspects of my life. If I let the negative in, then I remember that there's a little dead part of me not wanting anything. That's why I get so pumped up about new things in my life. I'm hoping that this new thing will be the thing that finally makes me want to deal with life. This new job will be what I need to be happy. These feelings I have for this other guy will be the motivation to wake me up, shake me up, get me to really be alive again.

But it never is. And I know why. I know that the real happiness that I'm searching for has to come from inside of myself. But I look at myself and I think that there is no reason for me to be happy. I don't deserve it. So I hide behind new obsessions. The internet. A new job. A television show. Writing fan fiction. A new lover. Anything, just so I don't have to really think about what it is I'm doing with my life.

Even my chosen career isn't giving me much happiness. Of course, I don't actually have a career, so that could be why. And I really don't think I'll ever have that career. I'm overweight, I've got terrible skin, I'm only moderately talented. So I look at these things and I do nothing to forward my career, and I get more depressed and ruin myself further and then still go nowhere and... and... vicious cycle.

And I see no way out of that cycle. I've spoken to people whom I really respect and admire, who DO have careers in my chosen field, and they all say the same thing. "You just have to believe in yourself, and work really hard."

Well, shit.

Charlie and I are going to see a marriage counselor tomorrow night. This really scares the hell out of me. Because I know that means work. And I don't think I'm up to it. The counselor said that in the 25 years she's been at this job, she's never had any clients get divorced.

I'm terrified that I may break her record.

And, whomever is reading this. This isn't a plea for sympathy. This isn't a call for help. I'm just needing to write this down so I can try to make up my mind. But whatever happens, I just want you to know that I'll be ok.

Of course, that may be the problem. I'm just settling for "ok." But maybe that's all that I can expect.

2002-06-27T08:54:00.000-07:00

Blarg. Life. Don't talk to me about life. I've got this horrible pain all down my diodes on the left side... Oh, you've heard that before? Man. Let a gal plagerize just a little bit, eh?

This last week has been the hardest week ever. I'm not going to go into detail. Let's just say that I'm a huge fucking idiot and I've managed to really badly hurt two people that I happen to love very much.

I should go and get one of those biohazard signs tatooed on my forehead, so everybody knows that I'm poison.

In lighter news, work is still everything I hoped it would be and more. Monday, a bunch of us tour guides got together and went kareoke singing at Acapulco's. Mmm. $1.75 margaritas. My buddy Shana did a rendition of Proud Mary that just had me on the floor. So funny. Very good singing, and she even did the Tina Turner dance moves. Oh my lordy it was great.

Oh! Can I mention the bad part of work? Ok. Where the HELL do some of these guests come from? I'm not talking people from out of the country. I'm talking about rude, crude, mean, snarky sons of bitches who think it's SO amusing to harass me just because I'm a cute girl. I mean, seriously. Don't these boys have mothers and sisters and girlfriends? And if so, how in hell do they get away with that kind of behavior? If I knew some of these boys personally, I'd smack them upside the head. Show a little respect for women, ok, asshole?

And the scariest part is that the most misbehaved guys are the ones there with their wives and children! Ok. Sunday night, I had to do three tours back to back to back. (Usually, I get a 15 minute break in-between each tram. Not so, Sunday.) Ok, so on my last tram was a family of three, sitting right in the front row. Father was a big black man, wife was a teeny little white woman, son about 13ish. First thing out of the gate, son thinks it'd be so amusing to reach up and wiggle his fingers in front of my camera. Oh, har-de-har-har. So I tell him, "Please don't do that. Thanks." Dad looks at me and goes, "Don't tell him what to do!"

*blink* *blink blink* Um. Maybe if you told him to behave, I wouldn't have to. Dumbshit.

And now I must away. Work just called and asked me to come in. So... More on dumbshits and assholes and big ass mistakes that I've made later.

2002-06-14T08:57:00.000-07:00

Mmm. Vacation. Nice.

This was a fabulous last few days, and I can't wait until we go back. I didn't see any real live buffalo, but Avalon was dotted with plaster of paris buffalo, painted in loverly wacky colors. City art project, of some sort. Got a picture of one, and as soon as the roll is developed, I'll put 'em up. As for seashells... um. Will you take a raincheck?

Monday we left around 10:00, spent the entire ride down singing TMBG songs and just generally being silly with love. The boat left dock at exactly 12:30, which surprised me to no end. (Something on time? In Los Angeles? Holy cow, it's the end times.) It was a fabulous ride over for one reason; about half way there, there was an entire pod of dolphins, leaping out of the water and dancing and keeping up with the boat and wow. Pretty, pretty fishy-type mammals. Just beautiful. I've always loved marine life, and seeing about 150 or so dolphins jumping and playing in front of our ship... really made my day.

Avalon is lovely. Our hotel was about 100 feet from the beach, and we spent a lot of time on it. The beach, not the hotel. We got to the island at about 1:45, checked in, dropped off our things and wandered the city for about 3 hours. Went to the big casino at the end of bay, which is that circular building that's on all the postcards. Pictures forthcoming, like I said. Did all kinds of touristy things, bought a hat, grumbled that a two cokes, a thing of french fries and and a corn dog cost $15 dollars. Saw a bunch of really pretty boats. Spent a lot of time cooing and smooching and being generally cute. Charlie was wearing a cowboy hat, and ran into a kid wearing something similar. The kid then started whistling the spaghetti western theme. You know. Woo woo woo... bwa bwa bwa... It was funny as all hell.

We did the glass bottom boat thing, which was great. The big orange fish, the girabaldi, were amazing. I mean, bright orange. Very spiffy. Wandered on up to the William Wrigley memorial gardens. Wrigley as in the gum. Apparently, the guy was a big part of Catalina life, and spent a ton of money setting up a nature preserve. So he got this HUGE memorial at the top of the hill in Avalon. It's neat. Lots of marble and bronze.

Of course, the rest of the trip was spent slacking on the beach, trying to fly our kite, and just generally being in love. Have I mentioned recently how much I love my husband? I do. I really, really do. I'm so lucky, I can't even believe it sometimes. Chuk knows me so well. His love and respect make me a better person. If you're reading this, I'm sure you're not interested, but I just want to yell from the rooftops how in love I am. I married my best friend. It's so amazing. I hope that you have the equivilent in your life. Love should be spread and shared and multiplied. I want everyone to feel this way, at least at some point in their lives. That's how powerful and wonderful this love is.

Heh. Sorry. I'll behave now.

I don't know if there were any dolphins on the boat trip back, cuz I slept right through it. I was a tired little trooper.

We got back to my car, toodled on down to Anaheim, (we took the boat from Long Beach. The Queen Mary port, to be exact. So we were a hop, skip and a jump away from Disneyland!) and got a motel room at the Alpine Inn. If you want to see what that looks like, go on over to www.alpineinnanaheim.com. It's.... cute. Tuesday night, we went to Downtown Disney, ate at a highly overpriced Italian place. (Which was very good. I ain't denying that. But holy cow... $15.00 for a plate of linguini alfredo? Yeesh.) We were both dressed to the nines, and only a little bit sunburned.

Ah yes. The sunburn. Well, Wednesday morning, we woke up, and I had a mild burn on my shoulders. We went to Disneyland and I got a worse burn through my shirt. Ow. Bright owie red. Damn it. The curse of being fair. My sunburns are always spectacular. To burn through a tee-shirt takes talent. And a total lack of protective pigmentation. (Sunscreen? Oh, yeah. SPF 17. Didn't do me a damn bit of good.)

And of course, when I saw Jerry yesterday, he kept whacking me on the shoulders. Bastard. I shoulda kicked him in the shin. Just for revenge, of course.

So, pictures soon. No, really this time. I've got the scanner now. I can actually do it. Yes.

2002-06-10T09:21:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm off to Catalina.

Y'all have a great next few days! I'll bring you some seashells and a picture of some buffalo. :-)

2002-06-03T10:31:00.000-07:00

Yipes. Has it really been 2 weeks since I last updated? Holy crap.

Not a whole lot going on in my life besides work. I did get a new cell phone, and I programmed the Red Dwarf theme song as my ring tone all by myself. Thank Pete for perfect pitch. If you're interested, and you want the song as your very own... Here's the notes to program in. Don't thank me. It's all a part of my plan for world domination.

The notes are... c c e g (pause) g a a g a b +c (pause) c c e g (pause) f e a (pause) a b +c (pause) +c b a b +c (pause) g #a a (pause) a g d #g g

# Means the note is sharp. + means that it's a high c, an octave above the ones without the +.

Confused? I knew you would be.

Worked on Memorial Day last week, and whoo! was that a fun day. Earthquake broke down during my third tour, so we had to circle through Six Points Texas, go down Denver Street again, and get back in line for EQ. By the time we got back, there were 6 trams waiting to get in. Oh holy cow. So I nattered on about steady cams for a few moments, then said, "Ok, who wants to watch some cartoons? Here ya go." By the time the clip was over, there was still a four to five minute wait. So I played a music video to fill. We finally get inside EQ, and it works. (thank God.) As we pull out, I just started laughing my ass off, and said, "Was it worth the wait, folks? Yeah? Ok then."

I am such a dork.

2002-05-19T09:12:00.000-07:00

Whoo. Ok, where to begin?

I know I haven't been as loquacious as I usually am recently, due to the overabundance of work that I must do in order to pass the training. This is, without a doubt, the most difficult thing I've had to do in a VERY long time. It's also very humbling. I'm usually at the top of every class or show that I'm involved in, off book first, ready to go right away... etc. This is not the case here. Ok, yeah, I'm off book, but so is everybody else. And I'm not the sparkliest or wittyest or prettiest. I'm just about dead average. That and the fact that I talk WAY too fast. So I get through the spiel about two or three minutes before we are actually through the area. Scary. Slowing down. It's a good thing.

Aside from the actual work, tho, there's another thing going on that is just driving me absolutely crazy.

I've made a new friend. His name is Jerry. Of all the people in the class, he's the one that I hang out with the most. I genuinely like his company. He and I agree on pretty much everything under the sun, politically, emotionally, you name it. So we spend our time together in class, studying together, eating lunch, whatever.

And of course that means that I'm having sex with him.

Yeah. The rumors are flying fast and furious within our group. Fortunately, there's a gal in the class named Leah Joy (my fellow Star Wars geek gal) who is hearing the rumors and telling me what's up. She's heard everything from he and I are having an affair to he's staying at my house nights.

One gal actually had the temerity to come up to Jerry and I while we were having lunch, sit down and say, "So, Beth, how long have you been married?"

Bitch. I don't think she realized that I saw right through her, but I just smiled and told her all about Charlie. In vivid detail.

It's very frustrating. I mean, a little logic here, people. Am I really going to leave my husband of a year for somebody I just met a month ago? No. Blarg. Can I just bust out the Xena and kick some gossipy arse? Please? Just a little? I promise I'll clean up after I'm done.

2002-05-16T22:41:00.000-07:00

Attack of the Clones rocks the world of this particular Cheezdanish.

Still memorizing, but took a break to see AOTC. Had to. Life just wouldn't be complete if I missed a Star Wars movie on the opening day.

Mmm. Yoda.

2002-05-11T11:10:00.000-07:00

Can't talk.

Memorizing.

See you in a few weeks.

2002-05-04T11:07:00.000-07:00

Well, yesterday was my first day at Universal Studios.

Man, this job is going to really frigging ROCK.

The group that I'm in had 23 people, most of which I had met previously, a few whom I'd never seen before, and all of whom were very cool. An entire group of actors, performers, comedians. All of whom were really excited to be there, and loving life in general.

Yesterday was Company Orientation. They showed us some fun little videos, one of which was a really cheesy black and white safety video. Oh my lord. It was like Reefer Madness, only self aware. They showed old disaster movie clips, people jumping out windows during an earthquake, running around and screaming. A hoot.

We also took the tour yesterday. All 23 of us sitting in the third car. (Insiders tip: When you take the tram tour, sit in the third car. You're far enough away from the engine to avoid the noise, and you get the best view of everything.) Oh, golly, were we hyper. The guide doing the tour even commented on it. Our Orientator, Mark, was really egging us on, too. I tried to be cool and calm and adult about it, but we were just having WAY too much fun. We were even singing along to the Smashmouth video that they play. (I hate that song. I sang along to it. Fear for my immortal soul.)

And we get to take the tour EVERY day of our training period. I'm sure I'll have it totally memorized by the time we're ready to go out. Just from taking the tour over and over and over. Forget the script. (Which, by the way, is 64 pages long. Yipes!)

This is the first job I've ever had where I'm having a lot of fun for money. Wow. Seriously, if you're ever in the neighborhood after Memorial Day weekend, please come and see me do my thang. I'll let you know the days I'm working. :-)

2002-04-22T21:03:00.000-07:00

I have decided that I really like They Might Be Giants.

I've never heard Factory Showroom, so I'm quite a happy camper now that I've got it for my very own.

*Lusts after Dial-A-Song, knowing that Chuk will never, ever let me call it.*

2002-04-17T17:07:00.000-07:00

I got the job!

On your right, there's a huge frigging animatronic monkey... ;-)

2002-04-12T15:23:00.000-07:00

I got the second call-back!

Well, they narrowed it down from 200 or so from Wednesday to about 45 today. Of those 45, 30 were kept.

And I was one of 'em.

Hee. My third and final audition is next Wednesday, and it's on a one on one basis. So I'm not as nervous about that as I was about today. Today we all had to get up, one at a time, and do a quick two minute speach (totally off the cuff) on our favorite and least favorite movies. I was the third to last person to be called. (Ya'd think that BYERS would be among the first to be called up. But no, they had to go all random order on us.) So I got up and said that The Princess Bride was my favorite movie. Got everybody to say, "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." along with me. Which was a thrill.

As least favorite, my first choice was A.I. (Worst. Movie. EVER.) Then I thought to myself, "Oops, um, yeah, Universal made that..." so I went with my next choice of Tomb Raider. When I said, "Did they put two midgets in her blouse or what?" I got this stunned gasp, then a HUGE laugh.

Felt damn good. I'm still on "Happy adrenaline actor rush time."

2002-04-10T17:16:00.000-07:00

I got the call-back!!

*dances.*

2002-04-10T12:35:00.000-07:00

Well, the call for the Universal Tram Guide went very well, if I do say so meself. If they choose me to go on to the next level of interviews, I'll be getting a phone call tonight before 5:00.

*crosses fingers, toes, arms, legs and eyes, just to be on the safe side.*

2002-04-09T11:40:00.000-07:00

Man. I am *BAD* about updating. All the other things a-going on, and Blog just goes Poof out da window. Of course, that sort of negates the whole Blog philosophy. All the stuff a-goin on is supposed to go in the Blog. Dur.

Mmm. Lessee. Well, the week I had planned below didn't quite work out the way I'd intended. I tried to get work, but was either unable to get through on the lines, or told that they couldn't use me for that shoot and please keep checking the lines ok bye. Of course, there's still the deep down resentment that I feel over working background, but I just have to get over it. It's work. I'm on a set. Ok, sure, no thought or talent is (usually) involved, but I'm on the set. Which means I'm more likely to be seen. It's not who you know, it's how hard you bust hump to get there.

There's an open call tomorrow from noon to three for Universal Studios Tour Guides. It's highly amusing and ironic. I just pray God that the casting director didn't read my earlier Blog entry. ;-)

I'm kinda hoping I get at least a call back. I could do that with my eyes closed, and I think I'd dig it. Plus... you get access to Universal's casting directors. Which makes me go all tingly with anticipation.

On Friday, there's an open call for an Equity production of Singin' in the Rain. (Which means that I don't have to be union to get in the cast, but I'd have to join once I got the job.) I want to play Leena Lamont so badly I can taste it. But Cathy Seldon would be a fabulous part as well. ("All I do, the whole day thru, is dream of you." Pa dum dum dum...) So that should be fun and exciting.

Saturday, my dad is doing his lecture on the biz, and he's asked me to introduce him. Which is really nice. I just hope that he doesn't put on his *LECTURE VOICE* when he does it. I've heard that voice my whole life and MAN can it frustrate you to tears. Discussion? Hah. He don't let you get a word in edgewise. (Maybe that's where I get it from... naaah.)

Then, on the 19th, I'm going to an audition for Peter Pan. That's the one I think I have the most chance of getting. My short hair, my height and my voice are perfect for the part. My hips and boobs, on the other hand... Well, I could just play a chubby Peter Pan. Don't make the tunic fit so tight, a little long so the tights aren't so obviously covering girl thighs... yeah.

Of course, I'd have to get over my fear of heights awfully quickly...

Now, on the topic of other things...

Somebody from the Brunching Board read my Blog the other day, and said to me in chat later, "Gee, Cheez, you sure do like the fluffy, brainless stuff, doncha?"

Excuse me? Oh, right, cuz I don't write about the bleakness inherent in the human soul and Goth poetry, I'm suddenly fluffy and brainless. Fuck you. When was the last time you read an actual book on actual pages, miladdo? And "graphic novels" don't count.

I dislike being told that I'm brainless because I'm;

A) Republican.
B) Blonde.
C) An optimist.
D) An artist.

(No, those aren't mutually exclusive...)

I am an optimist. What this means is that I do not automatically assume that people are evil with tendencies toward good. Or vice versa for that matter. This sort of philosophy "tends" to make people think that they can get away with all sorts of atrocities and then blame it on their "Conditioning."

And this makes me brainless. Heh. So I choose not to focus on the negative. Well, if a damn sight more people in this world put their focus and energy on the positive, then we might be better off. You are what you think. Your attitude shapes your world. Your words have meaning, and when you say or write, "Bleakness, blackness, badness, sorrow," of course you're going to be miserable.

And don't say I didn't try to warn you. ;-)

2002-03-30T17:55:00.000-08:00

Slllllll-aaaaaaaa-ccccck.

Ok. Plan for this week.

Monday: Try to get a rush call. If that fails, use that day to make phone calls to head shot guy, demo tape guy and possible agent guys. Get a cell phone. (Gak! No no no no... wait, I can do the Red Dwarf theme song as my ring tone. Bad ass!) Also, book self for Tuesday.

Tuesday: Work.

Wednesday: Book self for Thursday. Spend the morning cleaning. Spend the afternoon writing, either scripts or short stories. (Must... get... published...)

Thursday: Work.

Friday: Book self for Monday following. Prepare for nice, slackful weekend by imbibing a whole shitload of booze.

2002-03-28T15:50:00.000-08:00

And on another, totally different note...

Holy crap. Milton Berle, Dudley Moore and Billy Wilder all within the same 24 hour period?

Billy Wilder. Man, what a loss. One of the greatest director/writers ever to come down the pike. If you haven't seen Some Like It Hot, you're missing a great treat. It's one of the few "perfect movies" out there. Not to mention Marilyn Monroe. And Tony Curtis. And Jack Lemmon.

*sigh*

2002-03-28T15:37:00.000-08:00

Wheeee! Unemployment rocks!

*watches endless re-runs of Xena*

Actually, this week is "Slack the hell off." Next week is "Get ready, girlie, for 6:00 AM calls."

Oh, and there are new headshots in the works. When I get my website up and running (Hah! Look at how long it took me to get the fragging comments to work...) over here then I'm gonna put up an on-line picture and resume thing.

(And a side note: I really love the Brunchma community. Due to a brand spanking new server, members can get their own domain name there. Imagine it... www.brunchma.com/cheezdanish Rolls off the old browser, don't it?)

Also currently in the works is a short movie. My friend Terri and I are gonna get a script and a camera and put on a show! Wheeee! It's gonna be extremely fannish and goofball, but if all goes according to plan, then members of the brunching community will be able to download the movie for a small fee, the funds of which will go directly to the board. And if that goes according to plan, then it may be the first in a series. :-)

I love getting my creative on.

2002-03-20T08:47:00.000-08:00

I've got an audition for "Annie Get Your Gun" on Monday the 25th. This is a quick impression of me the night I made the appointment.

"Please bring 16 bars of an upbeat Broadway show tune! We'll see you at 7:00!"

Upbeat Broadway Showtune! Yeah, I've got a bazillion of those!

*rustle rustle*

"Uh, honey, where's all my sheet music?"

"Dunnow. In the new bookshelf?"

*rustle rustle*

"No, no sheet music here."

"Did you move it? Cuz I didn't."

*panic*

*rustle rustle*

"Aaah. There it all is." *toss* "Nope." *toss toss toss* "Nope nope nope."

Dammit! Since when is all my good audition music ballads?

The upshot of this is that I'm going to go and get new music books this weekend. There's a spiffy place I just discovered out on Sunset that's called Hollywood Sheet Music. I must, however, keep a firm grip on my wallet, otherwise I will end up spending all of my money on music.

Music may be the food of the soul, but I need food of the body, too.

Keep your fingers crossed for me. If I get the part, I will be singing such wunnerful songs as "Anything you can do, I can do better," and "There's No Business Like Show Business!"

2002-03-17T11:11:00.000-08:00

Ok, now it's time to talk about somebody that nobody but me knows. But it gets more relevant further down, I promise.

I've known Tim for, oh, about 7 years now. I met him when I was working at "Surf City Squeeze" at the Topanga Plaza Mall back when I first moved here. He was working at the bookstore right next to the smoothie place. And, being the pulp whore that I am, he and I spent lots of time discussing books and realizing that we had a lot of fun together.

So began the on again, off again, will-they-won't-they thing that went on between him and I. Ended, of course, the day I realized that, holy cow, I'm in love with my other best friend! And married him.

But I still see Tim, probably about once or twice a month. And every time we get together, the subject of, "Hey, wouldn't it have been weird if you'd married ME instead," inadvertantly comes up. It's not that he's trying to make me feel bad. God no. Not his style. More of a What If kinda vibe.

Now, something you have to understand about Tim. He's a wonderful guy. Smart, funny, good looking, and any woman smart enough to come along and snag him will be a very lucky woman as well. And I won't be even a little bit jealous. No, not me. Not a bit.

Ok, maybe a little. But more than that, I'd be happy for him. Very happy for him. (Any single women, about my age, please send pictures and resume to: FIND TIM A WOMAN, Po Box 69, Heartbreak Hotel, 91364)

So. Anyway. Last night we got to talking again about "What Ifs" and he revealed to me that he was kinda upset because I got married so young. I didn't argue with that. (Yeah, I've heard it before. Don't wanna hear it again, Tim. Drop it.) He said that he sorta wished that he and I had worked out, but knew that things happened for a reason and that we'd more than likely end up killing each other over little things. (Which is true. If I had ended up with him, he'd have to get rid of his cat, Rocky. Cuz I'm terribly allergic. Not A Good Thing.) But he also said that he thought that he was never going to find anyone to share his life with. Which I know is total bollux. So I told him that he hadn't found the right one yet, if you stopped looking she'd appear... yadda yadda yadda. Total cliche bullshit. And I felt really... I don't know... guilty about it. Because I'm married, everything is gonna come up roses and lollipops for him too. I just know it.

But I don't really. I mean, yeah, I'm keeping my fingers crossed for him, and I really want him to be happy. But I'm also afraid that since he wants to get married in the worst way, he will get married in the worst way.

Yeah. And I've told him this, and he gets upset and stops talking to me. Which kills me.

So what to do? Keep giving him the sunlight and daffodils routine, which is starting to bug me and him, or just tell him, "Yeah, you're right, you'll never find anybody, you're doomed to a life of repressive and miserable lonliness."

*snort*

It got me to wishing last night. Wishing that I could turn back the clock just a little bit, show him that even if I hadn't married Chuk that he and I wouldn't work. Or perhaps I should turn into Homer from that one episode of the Simpsons, and turn into a "Cybernetic Date Machine." (Must find woman. Must find woman. Target aquired!)

Anyway. Love the guy. Hope that he finds what he's looking for when he visits his lady friend in Hawaii next week.

2002-03-16T12:37:00.000-08:00

This was the view last night, just as the sun was setting, directly south of me. I was driving down Ventura Blvd. to pick up Chuk after work. By 6:18, the vapor trail had melted into just a random zig-zag pattern, and was plainly visible above the darker clouds that were no longer catching the sunset.

It was actually very, very beautiful. Scary to think, tho, that "THEY" are testing missiles with mock-warheads above my head.

2002-03-15T21:40:00.000-08:00

I am not pregnant.

Just so everybody knows.

2002-03-07T20:10:00.000-08:00

Feh.

Meh.

Poopy.

Didn't get the gig. I blame the communists.

Seriously, the show runner is an old hippie. And all the girls he picked were 5'7 or taller, had really long and wavy hair, and perfect, aqualine noses, accompanied by high and regal cheekbones. Whereas I have short hair, chipmunk cheeks, and a button nose.

Apparently the Slacker Princess title was erroniously bestowed to me, as I don't look like a princess. Of course, the fact that I put it on my resume probably didn't help the situation. ;-)

BUT! After a long heart to heart with Chuk (and have I mentioned recently that I love the holy hesk outta him? Well, I do...) he and I both decided that we could afford me going off and doing background work again. So...

I gave my two week notice at Beach Body today.

*Jumps up and down like a loony*

I don't have to work there no more after the 22nd! Yay! Hate the job, hate the people, hate the customers. Buh bye!

2002-03-03T21:54:00.000-08:00

Harumph.

*pokes certain people who shall remain nameless.*

After all that, and the flingin flangin comments go buh bye again.

*snort*

2002-03-02T19:44:00.000-08:00

New Tradion that I really like: Getting a bunch of friends over on Saturday night and doing dinner and a Red Dwarf Marathon.

New Tradition that I don't like one bit: My father banging on my choice of jobs. Well, sorta. Medieval Times, that resteraunt in Orange County (featured in that horrible Jim Carrey movie which so scarred me, I'm not even gonna say the name here) is hiring actors that can ride horses to be in their floor show.

Hot Damn!

The audition is Wednesday, so I'm skipping work to go. What the hell, I don't like that job anyhow. So I tell my dad about it, expecting a "Hey! That's a great idea! You can do a gig AND get paid for it! Good luck!"

What do I get?

"You'll hate it."

Bleh. Daddy, I love you, and you've been nothing but supportive and wonderful. But fer the love of Pete. Please don't rush to judge a gig I haven't even auditioned for yet.

2002-03-01T19:04:00.000-08:00

Ok. For the last two days, I've been feeling kinda icky. Vague, flu-like symptoms, accompanied by snarling hormonal bitchiness. At first, I thought I was having an allergic reaction to some new vitamins that I'm taking.

But when I mentioned this to my boss, she said, "Sounds like you're pregnant."

GAH!

*runs around in teeny circles freaking the hell out.*

Notreadyforkidsyetdammit! Arrrrgh!

So this weekend, if I still feel this way, I'm a-going to the doctors to see if the rabbit dies. If it does, I guess I'll be having kids a hell of a lot sooner than I anticipated...

I wonder if they still have restrictive home-birth laws in this state?

Oh, and I've discovered the joy that is Sluggy Freelance. I spent three to four hours last night reading the comic from day one. I love it. Bun Bun the homicidal mini-lop is my new favorite character. Love love love love love. I need that little bunny. Yep. I so do.

2002-02-27T21:17:00.000-08:00

*Engage Rant Mode*

Work sucks. I have to take a test in order to qualify for the "rewards program" like I'm some backwoods hick with a brain tumor. I can do my job perfectly well, thanks ever so much. YOU, you wankers, are just trying to make us feel competative and mean and stupid and petty. Well, I'm not gonna play your little mind games, Mr. "Casual Fridays." I'm gonna do my job, take home my pay check, and start my *REAL* job any day now. Just you watch. Just you watch.

*Rant Mode Disengaged*

Other than that, my life is decent. I have my man. I have my health. Ok, the bank took all my money, but I'm over it. Mostly. But someone is gonna get a boot to the head here in a bit if they don't watch it.

*menaces vaguely, struts and growls like Xena*

2002-02-24T00:02:00.000-08:00

Ooh. Universal Studios is now on my shit list.

Ok. I spent most of my childhood on that back lot. Hell, I've spent a good deal of my recent carreer on that back lot. (Yes, this is The Magical Disappearing Bikini Top Story. If you haven't heard it before, it's new to you!) Like the time I was picked to do a bit on a Matchbox 20 video. It was October, it was an all night shoot, I had the flu and I was hopped up on DayQill. So, as you can imagine, my facilities weren't totally top notch. Lame lame lame stupid stupid stupid Over-The-Counter Speed. Ok? So, I get onto set, I sit in makeup and hair for two hours, and get done up to look like Marilyn Monroe. (Wish I had gotten a picture of that. DAMN did I feel cool.) They put me in the snazziest bikini I've ever had the pleasure of encountering. It was one of those Gidget binikis, with the cute little brief bottoms and fringe along the bottom of the bikini top. I felt like a million bucks, aside from the mucus. I also spent my down time hanging out with the drag queens that they got to do the shoot. (Drag queens are good people. Smart, fashionable, and I can talk about men with them. Love it.) So I get onto set, and the second unit is shooting me, and the director of the video comes up and looks at the scene. (Me at a pay phone, throwing a major hissy fit. Like Marilyn would ever to that. C'mon.) He says, "Yeah, I like this girl. Great bod. But that bikini top is screwing up the line of her curves. Take it off her."

Uh.

"You know I'm not going to do that, right?" "Oh, no, not totally topless. We'll put bandaids on your nipples. And we'll shoot you from behind." "You'll what?" "Bandaids. Nipples. No boobs in the video. It's ok." "How much more will you give me?" "Fifty bucks." "Done."

So they whisk me off to wardrobe, tape up my boobs (not bandaids, turns out. Rather, they used those tape things that you can wear when you can't wear a bra with a backless dress.) and get me back onto set. All of sudden, the crew is really nice to me, getting me coffee and holding my jacket and chatting me up. Which was flattering, I guess. I did look rather like Marilyn, so that's a bit of an ego boost. "Ok, rolling!" Five minutes later. "Cut! Ok, Beth. You can go put your bikini top back on." "Thanks."

Easiest fifty bucks I ever made.

In any event. That's not why Universal Studios is on my shit list. The tram tour has always been a big thrill for me. There are certain things that are on the tour that should not be tampered with. Jaws. King Kong. The Tunnel. The conductor of the tram. Just... shouldn't be messed with. They're the whole reason people take the damn tour.

So, imagine my utter horror upon discovering that they've put a tiny wireless camera in front of the tour guide, and video screens all along the trams. So people can see him while he's talking. But they don't just do that. Oh no. They play Smashmouth and put up ads for upcoming movie releases. And show film montages. (Ok, the Jimmy Stewart montage was cool. But do I really need to see commercials on the tram? Especially when I've paid $45.00 freaking dollars to get in? No. I don't. And if you had the sense that God gave little green apples, you'd know this.) In fact, the entire ride, they kept pushing that Big Fat Liar movie. Hate hate hate hate. Grrr.

Ok. King Kong. Right on, same old joke about the banana breath. Fine. Collapsing bridge. Still there. Nice little bump. Whee. Earthquake. Hot damn. Exploding things. Jaws.

What the fuck did they do to Jaws?!? The little man in the boat is gone, replaced by a diver. When Jaws pulls the dock away, the gas cans explode. FIRE. Then, when Jaws comes up next to the tram, he's accompanied by a HUGE FUCKING HYDROLIC BURST OF WATER. Poor Terri had her digital camera all ready to get the inside of Jaw's... jaws, when the water hit her. And her brand new camera. She was pissed off. As she had every right to be. I couldn't even warn her. Because they changed it. Bastards.

And the tunnel. The Six Million Dollar man tunnel. It is no longer that lovely icy blue. In fact, it is now the MUMMY RETURNS tunnel, with boring old brown rock walls. And scarab beetles. Ick. Ok. Gross. So the tunnel does its thing, all whirly and cool and nausea inducing. *burp* Whee. Then, all of a sudden, the lights go out and a black light comes on, and you can see that they've painted scary faces on the side of the tunnel that only show up under black light. Which was cool, yeah. But dammit, the best part of the tunnel is when it stops and then goes back the other way! And with the lights off, it just doesn't work. Doing optical illusions in the dark kinda defeats the point, boys. Just FYI.

Oh, and there was a part of the "Video Tour" when a "Big Shot Producer" (and I know for a fact he couldn't produce a fart after a bean and broccoli dinner) told the awed yokels that getting a script produced in Hollywood was like winning the lottery.

Huh? The hell...? No. It's called TALENT, you motherfuckers. Get some. Please. For the love of Pete.

Anyway. Sadly disappointed with Universal Studios Hollywood now. At $45 a pop, they could at least make sure that commercials weren't included. Jeebus Chrast almighty, get with the program, jerks.

2002-02-07T08:48:00.000-08:00

Holy crap.

Remember that major financial overhaul thing I was telling you about last time? Well, it happened a bit sooner than anticipated...

My car, my happy little purple car, up and died on me the other night. My lease was up in June, and I had 35,000 miles or so on it. I was told that the battery and the transmission were vercocked.

So I just said screw it, gimme a new car. And they did.

I am now the proud leasor of a forest green 2002 Saturn SL1, with a snazzy CD player and a Neighbor Annoyer™ built in. (Yeah, car alarm. I hate 'em, you hate 'em, but it came factory installed. So what the hell.)

So it's all clean and new car smelling and green and CD playing. And the beauty part is that my payments are exactly the same as my last lease, and I got a really good interest rate on it. 0.07% to be precice. In all, I'm only paying $25.97 in interest over the 39 months of the lease.

Hot damn.

I'm loving it. It's a very good thing, as Martha would say.

2002-02-04T22:40:00.000-08:00

Ok. I haven't updated in ages and ages and ages and for that I sincerely apologize. I'm a horrible person. You may heap abuses on me when I'm finally arsed to get my comments working again.

First things first. Got a job. After three weeks of it, I'm ready to pull my hair out by the roots. How people can go through life so farking oblivious is totally beyond me. How can you graduate from high school and not know how to read a credit card statement? How? Why is this not something that's taught to people?

Oh, right. Because the credit card companies want you to be ignorant so they can make more money off of you. I forgot.

Chuk and I are planning some major financial overhauls, which are coming up very soon. We have a six month plan. First, get him a secured credit card. Then, pay off my credit cards. (Yes, plural. All maxed. I'm really in debt. And it sucks.) Then, we're going to apply for either a home loan, or we'll find a nice house to rent so we can get our credit even further along. Hopefully we will see this come to fruition by the end of July, beginning of August. That way we can move the hell out of Reseda and get on with our lives. (On a side note, we were looking at houses out in the high desert, Victorville and those environs. Man, they're georgous! And cheap! But what a hell of a commute...)

I've been doing a lot of thinking about various life topics, such as what makes something funny. I'm trying very hard to be funnier in my life. Thanks to Charlie in large part, I'm succeeding. That man knows funny. And he's damn good at it. His explaination is that funny is that moment of joy when you realize that the world is actually a good place to live in. The laughter isn't springing from another's pain, but from another's survival of pain, and becoming a better person for it. It's as good an explaination as I've ever heard. It makes perfect sense to me.

Have I mentioned recently that I love Charlie with all my heart? I do.

And politics. A lot of politics. I've been reading what people are saying about George Bush, and (Sorry, Krissy...) it cracks me up to hear him compared to Darth Vader.

Well, if George is Darth Vader, then Bubba Clinton was Emperor Palpatine. He put on a respectable face and totally fucked with the government. Besides, Darth Vader turned good guy at the end... heh heh...

I read a really interesting article courtesy of Fark.com today. It was discussing how President Bush has linked funding of government programs to the performance that they have delivered over the past few years. The two biggest bumps in spending? WIC (Women, Infants, Children, for those who don't know...) and literacy in the schools. The biggest CUT in spending? Studies for further oil based means of transportation. I'm sorry, that ain't the mark of a man who's interested in lining his own pocket from oil money.

Anyway. I'm done with my Right Wing Rants™ for the moment. I'll keep 'em to a bare minimum, I promise.

On a more creative note, I've noticed that my writing skills have re-surfaced along with my new employment. I'm still a long way from actually being able to write something I'm really proud of. My fiction is stilted. And possibly boring to anyone who isn't me. But if you really must, you can check out my fan fiction (hey, it's a hobby. At least I'm not smoking crack or eating babies...) over here. It's silly, but then so am I.

I've also dug up an old script idea that I had back in high school. It was written well before A Knight's Tale and that Martin Lawrence movie, but it's along those lines. It's the story of two girls, trapped in the Kingdom of Boredom, and the quest that they go on. It's a coming of age movie, only with swords and magic. Yeah yeah... I know. I ain't Shakespere, ok? Hell, I'm not even Anne McCaffrey. But The Epic Of Mo (that's the title of my masterpiece...) has been with me for a very long time, and now that people are buying scripts along those lines, I figure that, given the chance, I could write a Big Hollywood Flop too... ;-)

So yeah. Busy working. Defending President Bush. Writing Fan Fiction. Loving my darling husband.

All in all, it's not so bad. :-)

2002-01-10T17:33:00.000-08:00

Something Awful is my new best friend. I want to kidnap Lowtax and use him for my own lascivious pleasures.

Of course, now that I've put this up, and someone does a Google search for the word "Lowtax" my Blog will appear and I'm sure to be mentioned in his "Awful link of the day." Oh well. At least I don't have a MIDI of "Walkin' on Sunshine" on my page.

2002-01-07T11:55:00.000-08:00

Whoa. Duuuude.

The new iMac is friggin' beautiful.

The future is now, baby.

2002-01-05T12:42:00.000-08:00

New Year, new YOU!

Ok. Um... I have a cold. Charlie is turning 21 tomorrow. My sister might be moving to Tempe, AZ, for some ungodly reason. My brother is beta testing video games for a living, and he's so good at what he does that his employers gave him a GameCube for his Christmas bonus. (What a great job perk!)

I've managed to lose 6 pounds since December 25th. Which is good, considering that I didn't gorge myself on candy and cookies and enormous piles of mashed potatoes during the holidays. I'm still trying to swallow my pride and go out to do background work. It's cold nine times out of ten, there's horrible food, the pay is laughable, you're treated like shit, but HEY YOU'RE ON TV! Look, ma! No money! The things you do to put food on the table and smokes in your gob.

Ah yes, the smoking. Well, my sister finally quit. And I'm very proud of her for doing so. She lived most of her life with asthma, and just within the last five or six years has seen an improvement. So smoking cloves isn't the best thing in the world for her. My dad is also being pressured into quitting by my mom, who says she's gonna start smoking with him so that they can die at the same time. Isn't that romantic? Gads, sometimes I wonder about my mom. Lovely lady, smart as a whip, but man, she can manipulate with the best of 'em.

As for me, well... I've got a cold and I'm smoking. Mmmm. Smart.

2001-12-21T12:47:00.000-08:00

Dang. Just dang.

Well, after much arguing, tears, frustration and finally acceptance, Charlie went to his boss and said, "Look, you have to pay me, in full and on time, or I'm going to go get another job."

The response? "Oh? You mean you need the money that we're supposed to be paying you? Jeez, I didn't realize that! I thought that you and Beth were doing ok, money-wise..." Uh, hello! Unemployed CheezyD over here! Haven't had a job since September! Well before Charlie started working for you! You knew that! And besides which, even if I did have gobs of cash rolling in, you're still supposed to pay him on time! It's called a verbal contract and it is binding. Duh.

What with all of the kerfuffle, Charlie and I haven't gotten any presents for anybody. Not even his Mom, who's birthday was yesterday. I'm feeling so spectacularly guilty about this. Especially since Gwen doesn't really quite get the fact that Charlie and I are flat broke. Ron's birthday was last month, three days after my own. Did I get a present? Nope. Did RON get a present? A present?!? Hah. The man got about $400 worth of crap from everybody that he's ever met in his life. And I get glitter pens. Wheefun.

(Well, I'm exaggerating a tad. I did get a check for $100. But since I was $45 in the hole at the bank, it went away almost twice as fast as it usually does.)

What I'm getting at here is that Ron and Gwen, regardless of their family status, sometimes drive me batshit insane. I see the way that Chuk deals with his mom. He just tunes her out. "Yes Mom. Love you." "Sure Mom. Love you." "Whatever, Mom. Love you." Well, this last week, when Chuk and I were kinda sorta arguing about him telling his boss to stop breaking the law, he did the same thing to me.

"Yes Beth. Love you."

GRRRRRR. I need a dragon like Krissy has. Only real. And hungry. And made of gold so I wouldn't be poor anymore. And able to make me lose weight without diet or excersize.

So yeah. Crappy Christmas to all, and to all a Smegging Bad Night.

Oh, it is raining. So that's nice. I like it when it rains out here. I just hate the people who drive in the rain out here. ;-)

2001-12-05T16:50:00.000-08:00

Fart.

It went bust again. Stoopid Reblogger.

*sigh*

In happier news, I'm going to two consecutive weekend parties! With Booze! And people! Lots of people. And good food! This weekend is the weekend that I finally get to meet my Brunching Board friends. Of course, I made the mistake of telling my mother that I'll be meeting people IRL that I've met on-line.

Her response? "Oh, Beth. This is not good. You're going to go to this person's place and find out that they're smoking pot and committing beastiality and they're probably Al Queda terrorists and they'll kill you and rape you and disembowel you and toss you into the mountains somewhere. The FBI is telling people not to even CHAT on-line anymore because of the security issues."

Uh. Yeah. Well, if the FBI comes round, would ya ask them if this is true? Because I'd hate to be breaking the law by using AIM or IRC or e-mailing people from Seattle.

(Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if Seattle was on their "Better Wiped" list... Damn hippies.) ;-)

And next week is Jaime's annual Christmas bash. And my mother loves Jaime. Of course, at his parties there are people doing "questionable" things. But since I've known Jaime since I was 6, it's ok. ;-)

Anyway. Party time. Yay!

2001-11-26T15:33:00.000-08:00

Happy birthday to me.

Wooo.

I got to sit at home and do NOTHING for my birthday.

Yay.

2001-11-20T17:46:00.000-08:00

Chuk installed OS X on our machine last night.

I had him switch it back to 9 this morning. Reason: I can't play the Sims on X. The hell?!? Nuh uh, sweetie, sorry. No new toy for you until the Sims work with it.

Oh, and my mom joined the union! Yay mommie! Go get 'em! She'll be running SAG outside of a year. ;-)

2001-11-17T17:10:00.000-08:00

Harry Potter totally rocked my world. I will be seeing it again and again and again.

That is all.

2001-11-07T13:00:00.000-08:00

Ok, I'm enough of a geek to be really excited about certain things.

Certain television shows and movies. For example, I was really looking forward to seeing the Buffy Musical episode. And for the first time in a very long time, I wasn't dissapointed. Not only did they get the look of a traditional musical comedy down, but they also got the sound as well! I had laid long odds against that....

One small quibble: The 11 o'clock song was done at the beginning. Hmmm. It was an amazing song, don't get me wrong. I'm gonna track down the sheet music and use it as an audition piece. (if I ever get my voice back. I need to stop smoking....) But that type of romantic song is usually sung by the heroine of the piece, and comes just before the resolution. (Hence the term 11 o'clock song)

(And of course, there's the whole Tara singing, "You make me COM-plete... you make me COM-plete..." thing. Yow. Double entendre, much? {sing it out loud, you'll get it...})

I'm also really looking forward to seeing Harry Potter. It looks cool! And fun! The reason Harry Potter is such an amazing story to me is because Harry is a hero. There aren't enough heroes in today's literature. It's not written very well (I suspect that Ms. Rowling has a lot to learn about exposition...) but a gripping story, badly told, is far superior to a poor story with poorly fleshed out characters. Which a lot of writers (myself included!) just don't get. What cracks me up about the whole Harry Potter thing is that some people (I'm looking at you, New York Times Bestseller List!) dismiss it out of hand because it's "A Children's Book."

I wish "Adult" novels were so enchanting. Cynicism is all well and good, but why can't an adult believe that there is something in this world that is magical? I'm not talking about specific magic. I'm talking about that feeling you get, sometimes, when you look around and say, "Gosh, ain't life swell?" That, to me, is more magical than an entire list of flying broomsticks and spells. I think the Harry Potter novels capture that. Even when things are tough, and bad things happen to good people, they don't give up. They go on. Which is what a hero is supposed to do. Why do you think Star Wars is so popular? Heroes.

2001-10-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

Meh. Sick.

*sniffles*

I've got an upset tummy and a really weird sore throat and a headache and all over body ache. It comes and goes. I get hungry, I eat two bites, I feel like I'm gonna barf. So no food. Which increases the headache.

Add to that that I haven't slept more than 6 hours a night in the last month or so... and when I do sleep, I have horrible nightmares. Really graphic and gruesome ones.

Meh. Need... something...

2001-10-24T15:21:00.000-07:00

A few news articles to read, maybe. I'm doing as much research as I can. I find that my thoughts and opinions are not very informed. I hate that.

http://foxnews.com/story/0,2933,37137,00.html

http://foxnews.com/story/0,2933,37156,00.html

http://www.cnn.com/2001/US/10/24/ret.shepperd.am/index.html

http://www.cnn.com/2001/WORLD/asiapcf/south/10/24/afghan.meet/index.html

This is amazing. I fail to see how replacing an extreme dictatorship with a "moderate" one, fully propped up by the U.N. (Read; the US...) is going to solve all the problems of Afghanistan. In fact, I suspect that it'll be worse. With all the diverse ethnical groups in that country, will bringing in outside support make it better? No way. This plan proposed by the gentlemen in this article practically mirrors what happened with Isreal half a century ago. And the fighting there hasn't stopped since... Unfortunately, it's either that, or we support more of the same people who make up the Taliban. The Northern Alliance "Freedom Fighters." I smell a past mistake repeating itself.

http://www.cnn.com/2001/US/10/24/rec.us.attacks.terrorlaws.ap/index.html

That last one is really interesting. I can see why some people could be upset about that. I does indeed look like a bit of a slippery slope. Today, terrorists; tomorrow, "enemies of the state." I always have been a proponent of less government interference. If the "law enforcement tools" are expanded upon, privacy will become virtually non-existant. Of course, the only problem is that if nothing at all is done, then we're in worse shape than we were before. But this isn't a witch hunt. There really are people in this country who would love to see it's demise. And in other countries around the world.

So what is there to do? I have no answers. I can't even begin to answer this. I will, however, be writing a lot of letters to my representatives in the government. It's now the time for voices to be heard. This isn't something that can be solved by "someone" or "pat answers" or even bombing. (Not to say that the bombing of the Taliban and Afghanistan is wrong. I fully support it, and the intentions behind it. But there seems to be some confusion as to what is going to be done after the bombing is over. And in that light, I say, hold the phone and think about it!)

America has played policeman to the globe for far too long. And we're paying for it.

2001-10-23T13:29:00.000-07:00

Meh.

So much cleaning to do, so little motivation with which to do it...

I've now got 7 different "Cleaning Projects" that I've been starting now for the past three weeks. Gotta clean out the closet, organize the books, organize the videos and cds, scrub and scrub and scrub the kitchen, ditto with the bathroom, fix the toilet so that it doesn't run constantly anymore, tighten the spigot in the shower so it doesn't drip, clean up the hard water stain left in the tub by said dripping, get all my paperwork in some semblance of order...

Bleh. Too... much... This is what I get for being a deep down, incurable slob. And the kicker of it is, if I don't get it done, it NEVER will get done. All of the hinting and cajoling and snuggle-like pleading I've done with Chuk makes not a damn bit of difference. I'm not talking like, leaving the toilet seat up kinda thing. I'm talking about him making a sandwich and not cleaning up after himself kinda thing.

I love him, don't get me wrong. But he's a bigger slob than I am. I had thought that impossible in another human being. ;-)

So all the cleaning and cooking and washing is up to me. And I really don't mind. I just wish the man wouldn't whine so much about it while I'm getting it done. "Honey, let's snuggle." "Dearheart, I'm kinda in the middle of cleaning up after dinner... and I just made the bed!" "You never want to snuggle when I do." *He pouts for a moment, making me leave the projects behind.*

Sigh...

2001-10-18T15:09:00.000-07:00

Found the following here.

Partial transcript: (in case the link doesn't work at some point... Newsmax is notorious for that...)

"In a piece for the New York Times, Rushdie wrote that "the savaging of America by sections of the left ... has been among the most unpleasant consequences of the terrorists' attacks on the United States. 'The problem with Americans is ...' - 'What America needs to understand ...' There has been a lot of sanctimonious moral relativism around lately, usually prefaced by such phrases as these.

"A country which has just suffered the most devastating terrorist attack in history, a country in a state of deep mourning and horrible grief, is being told, heartlessly, that it is to blame for its own citizens' deaths. ...

"Let's be clear about why this bien-pensant anti-American onslaught is such appalling rubbish. Terrorism is the murder of the innocent; this time it was mass murder. To excuse such an atrocity by blaming U.S. government policies is to deny the basic idea of all morality: that individuals are responsible for their actions.

"Furthermore, terrorism is not the pursuit of legitimate complaints by illegitimate means. The terrorist wraps himself in the world's grievances to cloak his true motives. Whatever the killers were trying to achieve, it seems improbable that building a better world was part of it," Rushdie wrote."

This is what I've been trying to say for the last week. To hear it come from Rushdie gives me a bit of hope. I was never a big fan of his, and I have no intention of starting now, but I begin to understand why writers who are notorious are worth tons of money... ;-)

2001-10-18T14:07:00.000-07:00

Uh oh...

There's a police helicopter circling my apartment building....

*stashes the stash.* ;-)

2001-10-17T14:06:00.000-07:00

Crap.

My garbage disposal just spit about a half a gallon of icky, black, stinky water into my kitchen sink.

And lemme tell you, it is STANKY! Pee-ew!

I wonder if I was mean to a kitten in a past life to deserve all this crap this week?

2001-10-16T09:57:00.000-07:00

Well. I've been called a lot of names in my lifetime, but I've gotta say that, "Jingoist, Randroid, bloodthirsty, war-mongering bitch," just about takes the taco.

I've decided that, as much as I love debate, and as much as I respect and love the few people I've met on-line, I'm done. I'm not gonna do it anymore. It's apparent to me that my opinion is not welcome. I refrained from calling people names, I avoided taking them to task for the ideological and metaphysical ideas that they hold, I never make it a personal attack.

I guess the same respect is not due to me, because my voice is not with the majority.

I won't be swayed from my ideas and opinions. However, they won't be put to the general public anymore. It's difficult for me to keep my big fat keyboard shut, because I'm of the opinion that if you don't speak up against an idea that is abhorrent to you, you essentially are condoning it. But I guess that I have "crossed an invisible line" as it were. It's not about exchanging ideas anymore. It's personal, now. And it hurts like hell.

I cried myself to sleep last night. I know that may sound like emotional blackmail, but whatever. But it hurts so bad to think that there are people in this country who care more about children thousands of miles away, in another part of the world, than they care about the children who are right here, who are hurting and mourning because they lost their parents.

I hate being told, behind my back, that I've been, "Taken in by the conservative media."

I hate seeing people attack my country and my president, under the tenets of "America killed Native Americans in the past, so who are we to judge?" and "No offence to anyone, but George W. Bush is a gangster." I hate being told that because of the nation's past, which frankly nobody alive today had a damn thing to do with, America is a nation of hatred, and stupidity, and the love of life and freedom is something... wrong.

I hate seeing people say that somehow "we" deserved all of this.

So when I raise my voice and say, "NO WE DIDN'T!" I am roundly and thoroughly reviled and slapped.

To be told that the ideas and beliefs that you've worked for a lifetime to achieve are inherently evil and wrong...

To be told that the things you hold dear and love aren't worth defending because of mistakes other people have made...

To be told that you're a, "Contemptable human being, with no regard for the lives of others,"...

Damn. Just damn.

Well, I've said my piece. The next time, I won't be so surprised. Of course, that implies that there will be a next time. Which I won't do. I'm done.

Please, I beg of you, the next time you feel the urge to call someone names, take a deep breath and don't do it! Don't put words out that will hurt. There's enough of that going on today anyway.

2001-10-11T13:53:00.000-07:00

Nothing to say.

No really.

No job yet.

Nothing is going on over here. Even the running of our own business went the way of the dodo.

I've been playing a lot of on-line games and lining up time to get new headshots and representation.

Newest find? www.isketch.net Addictive, on-line pictionary on crack!

So, yeah.

2001-09-29T11:08:00.000-07:00

News on the homefront:

Chuk is currently in talks to get a new job! If it works out the way I'm hoping, then within the next month (!) we could be running our own business!

We're disscussing setting up an in-home type thing, in which Chuk would go to a customer's office and teach them how to use Final Cut Pro. I would be the administrative type office gal, who makes all the phone calls and looks efficient and cute.

I'm really looking forward to getting this off the ground. It's the kind of business that requires little capital to get started, and we would be able to work whatever hours we wanted. (Or needed...) We wouldn't have to work for anal-compulsive huns. We would be able to spend a heck of a lot more time together. And we could trust ourselves to make the right decisions for our company, as opposed to being subject to the whims of some snot-nosed, devil may care, pointy haired boss who has no hair.

So, yeah. Capitalism gooooood.

2001-09-19T10:37:00.000-07:00

Wow.

I mean. Wow. I am the luckiest person in the world. I have a family that loves me enough to tell me when I'm doing something remarkably stupid, and call me on it. I have a husband who loves me so much as to get me up, motivate me, tell me to keep going, get me moving! I have a strong body and a strong mind. I have the drive, the ambition, the power to change my current situation.

So, no more slacking and lolligagging for me. *trumpet fanfare* Yay!

Also in today's news: Amanda and Justin have twins! I kid thee not! I was in 7-11 today, minding my business, getting a newspaper, when in walked a couple which, upon first glance, I would have sworn were Justin and Manda. They both had the same builds, same height, the same facial structure, postures. It was creepy. The only thing that made me realize that it wasn't them was the fact that he was blonde.

So there ya go. Justin and Amanda, if you read this, the pod people are coming, and they live in the Valley.

2001-09-15T12:30:00.000-07:00

Yee-frikking-HAW!!!

I finally got the sandwich monkey off my back!

Ok, I've mentioned Bagel before. He's the manager at the Togo's where I (used to!) work. He's 20, but he acts like he's a spoiled pre-teen. He has the responsibility and brain power of a retarded lemur. How on Earth he got the position of manager... I will never understand. Maybe he's good in the sack. I don't know. Anyway, I've had major issues with this boy for a good six months. He's rude, unintelligent, disgusting and unfunny. (Major sin, in my book.)

Well, today, just minutes after I received a call from Chuk saying he's going down to the recruitment office, Bagel opens his big, fat mouth and says to me, quote: "So, Beth, is there anything silly that you and Charlie do, just the two of you? Like eat poopie?"

I actually had to have him repeat it for me. I couldn't believe my ears.

Well, I blew up. I admit it. I totally flew off the handle. Here's the rails, and here's me. (That's way off the rails!) I told him that he was an irresponsible son of a bitch, and that he should shut his fucking mouth. Or I may very well shut it for him. (That was the best part! It felt soooo good!) He then got all defensive, and said that he didn't mean it that way, and that I should lighten up.

Lighten up? You never, never, never tell an Objectivist to "lighten up." That's like saying to a fireman that the fire will put itself out, so don't worry about it.

Well, I got really upset, needless to say. I don't appriciate it when people ask me questions about my love life. And this wasn't the first time. About four months ago, right before my wedding, he asked me if Chuk and I were having sex before we were married. I told him it was none of his business. And he said, "So I guess that means no, huh?"

Bastardbastardbastardbastard!

*sigh*

Well sir, I went home, I called the owner of the store, and told him what went on. He was not happy. He was even less happy when I told him that I was no longer an employee of his.

Man, I so would not want to be Bagel right now. He's gonna have the man open a huge can of whoop ass on him. He'll be damn lucky if he even gets to continue working there, let alone keep his managerial position.

To take a quote from Mara of the Brunching UBB, "Revenge is a dish best served cold with a side of onion rings." Heh heh heh.

*be's a heartless little bitch*

2001-09-12T16:43:00.000-07:00

I am an American.

I will not allow this tragic event to sway my beliefs. I believe in freedom, in Capitalism, in individualism. I believe that the spirits and souls of Americans will not be crushed, will not stoop to the level of the terrorists, will use the rightous anger and bewilderment that they feel now to rally round their leaders and make the right decisions.

I am an American.

I watched as symbols of freedom and free trade were destroyed. They were more than symbols of that, however. They were symbols of human ingenuity, of human achievment, of the greatness inherent in the human soul. And no matter the destruction, no matter the tragic and disgusting loss of life, the human soul will triumph. The human soul will triumph. I believe that, with all my heart. I love humanity. I worship the best that can be present in every human in the world, regardless of race, religion, politics.

I am an American.

I watched as, elsewhere in the world, children celebrated the deaths of untold thousands. I do not blame them. I cannot blame them. They are as innocent as the people in the World Trade Center. They are children. Children believe what they are taught. I blame the people who told these children that celebrating death is appropriate. I blame the government who forced or pursuaded their people into the belief that freedom is too big a responsibility. That freedom is a threat. They are right in one respect. Freedom is a threat. It is a threat to bullies and cowards, it is a threat to those who do not hold life as the ultimate human value. Freedom, not slavery. Truth, not lies. Life, not death.

I am an American.

I watched as the leader of our country was whisked away to locations unknown. I watched as people whom I do not trust to tie their own shoes, give out dribs and drabs of information. I watched and listened in horror as these same people blamed, not the terrorists, but our threatened leader, his associates and his intelligence. I am a trusting person. I think that these treasonous remarks were mistakes. But that they were even mentioned... It makes me weep for this great nation. For now, instead of rallying behind our leader, continued their policy of ridicule and slanderous lies. These are the ones that the nation trusts to educate, to inform, to be responsible for the news. They have failed. This was the test, and they failed. But even through all of this, I do not lose hope. I believe that they will be shown, through the grandeur of the American spirit, that our leader is a good man. A man we can trust. A man of integrity and intelligence. A good leader.

I am an American.

I am stricken by all of the sorrow and disbelief that I see etched on the faces of my family, friends, neighbors. I am dumbstruck at the level of malignancy and hatred that allowed this to happen. I am aching from all the grief that is present in the nation today. But I am also heartened by the massive outpouring of support and condolences that we have received from other nations in the world. I am gladened by the lines of volunteers to give blood that are so long, the hospitals are turning people away. I am uplifted by the display of civility and peace that are radiating across the country.

I am an American.

I will not lose hope. I will not give in. I will do everything in my power to make this nation great.

I am an American. You may be, too. We will survive.

2001-09-10T20:07:00.000-07:00

Oooh. The days are flying fast and furious here in Beth's brain. I swear, I was minding my own business, playing the Sims, I look up at the clock and it's 3:30 in the afternoon! Eeep. I gotta get a job.

Still working on the Great American Screenplay.

Ok, maybe not Great. Wouldya believe Nice? How about Silly? Last offer, Stupid and Pointless?

Meh. I really shouldn't criticize my own stuff. Therein lies the path to angst. And Pete knows that I hate that.

2001-09-09T16:39:00.000-07:00

Ikea is really, really, really cool. Chuk and I spent about $130, and we gots all kinds of really groovy new stuff. A really pretty CD holder/organiser, a really nice desk for Chuk, a really nifty lamp made out of paper, and a really snazzy wok.

No, really.

I'm watching Chuk put together all of our new toys. Because he's good at that kind of stuff. And I'm slacking. ;-)

2001-09-08T18:19:00.000-07:00

Ah. It all becomes clear...

But I'm way too lazy to fix now. For now, I shall play the Sims until my eyeballs turn to goo.

2001-09-08T09:20:00.000-07:00

Tarnation!

*cusses mildly for a bit*

Just as I had the whole Reblogger thing worked out, just as I was feeling giddy and joyous, somebody went and broke my little red wagon.

Meh.

And it ain't just me. Nobody's Reblogger is working. So who fell asleep at the switch? Who can the finger be pointed at? Who's on first? I dunnow. (Third base!)

2001-09-06T15:48:00.000-07:00

I have found a new toy, and it is the madness which is IRC.

For all my buddies which do not go over to the brunching UBB (And I'm looking at you, Justin and Bubster...) at least join me in an IRC chat, hmmm? Is that so much to ask? Look, just download an IRC program, and come and join the fun. The server is clawdia.2y.net, and the channel is #tribrunchma. Is fun. Is silly.

I got to chat with Lore (yeah, that Lore) the other day, and I'm still tingling.

You shall join me in the IRC thing. It is a foregone conclusion.

And if this is no good, Brunchers, lemme know and I'll remove it. I just figure, the more the merrier. Right?

2001-09-05T09:21:00.000-07:00

Aaarg. FanFiction.net is down. Again. For the third time in as many weeks.

Aaarg.

On another aaarg-like subject, Chuk and I got into an argument the other night. I hate arguing with him, because he looks like a puppy dog, which was just hit on the snout with a rolled up newspaper. I just wanna cry when we argue. I hate it.

And I'm craving salty foods recently. And drinking milk like it's going out of style. I hate milk. I'm lactose intolerant. So why the need for it? Yikes...

2001-09-02T11:47:00.000-07:00

Had a Gelson's salad.

Went to a party.

Will be seeing Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back later today.

Love holiday weekends, as Charlie is home! Not at work! Home!

2001-08-30T11:21:00.000-07:00

Writing is like masturbating. You should do it alone behind a locked door, and wash your hands afterwards.

I have now determined the reason why writers generally either live alone, or have a special room to write in. Embarrassment. Distractions abounding. Overuse of adjectives. Seeing only a computer screen for hours on end.

Don't get me wrong. I'm having a damn good time writing. But when Chuk came home from work last night, he turned on Blackadder. Which I can never never resist. Down the toilet went the writing. Grrr. Stoopid tv...

But I've gotten a little bit of praise from a fellow writer over on Fanfiction.net. (There's where the embarrassment factor comes into play. I'm writing FF as a practice thing. No, really. I am. Who are you calling a fibber?) It was quite nice. It's true what they say, praise from a stranger can mean more than praise from a loved one. I got all tingly inside. Ooo. *tingles for a bit*

I'm smoking way too much. And not eating properly. I really must put a stop to that. I've had a craving for a nice, fresh salad from Gelson's the last couple of days. Perhaps I will go to Gelson's this evening and get myself one.

Mmmm. Salad-y goodness...

Anyway. How was your week?

2001-08-29T13:54:00.000-07:00

Well, I called the guy to do my headshots. He's very friendly, very professional, and very very expensive. $425. Just for 3 rolls of film. Not including the price of hair and make up. $95 each, that is. This is what I get for calling after the Human Face thing aired. I made the appointment with him, but I think I shall call and cancel. I need a new fridge before I need new headshots.

But Charlie, god bless his heart, was all ready and willing to spend the money so I could get it done.

Have I mentioned recently how much I love that man? He's such an angel. I am the luckiest girl in the universe. And on toppa that, he's hella smart.

*nod nod*

2001-08-28T13:52:00.000-07:00

See? *points at reblogger* See?!?! I KNEW that threatening it would work.

Ha HA!

2001-08-28T11:32:00.000-07:00

Hmmm. ARRRGH! Arrrgh? arrrgh....

Still can't get the goldanged Reblogger to work. I am seriously considering removing it. It has now gone from slight annoyance to bum-chapping, grating-my-cheese, bust out the Smith & Wesson and blow the mother away annoyance.

Yes, I moved it from out of the style tags. Still refuses to work. Maybe I'm doing something wrong. (ya think?)

In other news, I've begun writing again. I've got a screenplay that I've had kicking around in my head since the 9th grade. It's a buddy movie. With two young women who are caught up in a civil war between two kingdoms. Magic and faeries abounding. Yeah, it's silly, but I'm proud of it. I've had a few ideas that would make it work really well. The, "Two unhappy people feel trapped, are transported to magical world, save the day, one decides to stay and other goes home," thing has been done a bazillion times, but I've always loved that particular story. Too much Fantasy / Scifi, but what the hell.

Anyway. I'm still at home. Waiting for a decent job to come my way. I'm gonna go get new headshots later this week. I saw a guy on the Human Face special (Loved it!). He looked quite good, and exactly what I'm looking for. I get to keep the negatives. Big plus. It's gonna be hella expensive, but you get what you pay for. Last time I got my headshots, I paid $35, didn't get to keep the negatives and got crappy pictures. No repeats, this time. I want quality, dammit! Quality!

2001-08-24T21:32:00.000-07:00

Ok. I know I've mentioned this before, but Chuk's mom is certifiable.

No, really. I know that everybody at some point or another has mother-in-law problems. With Chuk's mom, it's on-going. It's like a serial adventure with a really annoying hero. You kinda want to know what'll happen next, but frankly you'd rather spend your nickel getting an ice cream cone.

Well, she's like that. Only larger than life.

She's always got a project. It's nice that she keeps herself amused in one way or another, but every now and then she decides that her project for the month will be either Chuk or myself. With me, it was the wedding. I had to put the kibosh on that real fast, and I think that she's still a tad miffed that things went down the way they did. So far, that's been her only project with me, and for that I thank Bob, Pete and all the other gods and goddesses in every pantheon. She's like a bra that pokes you in the underpart of your boob in the middle of a very important meeting. You can't adjust it and you can't ignore it and, while not extremely painful, is profoundly annoying. And, unfortunately, a necessary part of your life. (For you guys out there... um... forget it. There's no male equivilent of a pokey bra. You'll just have to use your imagination...)

Well, this month's project is trying to convince Chuk that he needs to get massive and major orthidontic work done. She's convinced herself that because Chuk has an underbite, he's going to have TMJ, arthritis, gingivitis and possibly syphilus because his teeth are crooked. So she wants him to go to the orthodontist and get a plate put into his palate which will stretch his teeth into having a straight bite. She's waxed poetic about how happy Chuk'll be when his teeth are all straight and shiney. How handsome he is, but because his teeth are bad, he's somehow less attractive. (Um... hello, Gwen! I think he's damn attractive, and I'm the only one he has to worry about...)

Chuk doesn't want to do it. I can't say that I blame him. I had braces for nearly six years. It hurt like hell. I'm glad I got it done, but i want a career in front of a camera. I have to have nice teeth. Chuk really doesn't. So why should he get it done? If he doesn't want to do it, end of story, right?

You don't know this woman. When she gets a project, she would run puppies over to get it done.

She says to me, "I really want your support in convincing Charlie that he needs to do this, Beth..."

Oh, boy. So now I have to either nag at Chuk and get him to do what his mother wants, or I can ignore Gwen.

Easy choice! Sorry, Gwen. You're SOL. I ain't disturbing my domestic tranquility so you can get your little project done.

So there. Nyah nyah.

2001-08-23T13:57:00.000-07:00

Mmmm. Gene Kelly movies, back to back to back, followed by a bit of Monty Python at 3:40.

Man, this is nice. :-)

2001-08-23T08:57:00.000-07:00

Hmmm. Still can't get reblogger to work. This is what comes of not knowing diddly about java script. Or HTML tables. I'm still coming to grips with the ampersand thing. Bastard ampersands. They make me so mad. (No, mom! Everybody hates the Poopli kids. Even I do!)

Anyway. Now that Chuk has insurance on my car, he can drive himself to work! I no longer have to get up at the butt-crack of dawn and play chauffer. Not that I minded, really, but it's nice to be able to sit around in my jammies all day and not go anywhere. Yay!

*Prays that Chuk is safe and the car is not scrap metal by now*

2001-08-22T12:37:00.000-07:00

Testing testing 123... Now is the time for all men to come to the service of their country... yadda yadda yadda...

2001-08-22T12:29:00.000-07:00

May I just say that I hate the word "extreme" now? It's everywhere. Extreme sports, extreme television, extreme hair products, extreme sandwiches. Extreme soft drinks, extreme flavor explosion, extreme to the extreme.

Bleh. Get a damn thesaurus.

2001-08-21T19:29:00.000-07:00

Insured! Cuddled! Fed! Happy!

Woot!

2001-08-20T13:25:00.000-07:00

Receding... receding...

I'm calmer now. I don't feel like borrowing Krissy's dragon and flying out to FL and basically pulling a Matrix on this company. And I only needed 4 cigarettes to do so! Getting better about that... I guess.

The really bizarre part is that just on Friday, my sister went through the exact same thing with her insurance co. An out of state provider, massive amounts of hassle, three cancellations, and a mad scramble to get insured cheaply. Like I commented earlier: Bullshit. Big, steaming, mouldy piles of it.

What a racket, huh? In order to drive legally in this state, you have to be insured. In order to be insured, you have to pay through the nose. If you're 2 days late: cancelled. The check is not returned to you and you're SOL, buddy.

I guess it's all for the best, really. Now Chuk and I can find insurance for the both of us at a much cheaper price. There are two issues that concern me, however. 1) I was rear ended two years ago. Ergo, it's on my record. Ergo, higher premium. (Why do they call a policy a premium, anyway. Seems like it should be called bottom-of-the-barrel-in-hassle-and stress...)
2) Chuk hasn't been insured since his car was stolen. In January. So they hike up the rates even more if you've been without insurance for a while.

Ok. I lied. Three things that concern me: 3) I have no job. I have no way of getting to a job right now. I have no way of getting CHUK to his job. I can't book myself for background work, cuz, duh, I'd have to drive there. And I can't drive right now. Because I have no money to get insurance. And I can't get any money together because I have no job.

And so on.

Other than that, however, everything else is peachy.

And I love my husband very very much. He's attentive, supportive, caring, sharing, loving, and all around cool and hoopy. So that's a good thing. :-) <<

2001-08-20T11:02:00.000-07:00

BASTARDS!

They cancelled my insurance. Again. For the third fucking time this year!

I'm getting quite frustrated and angry. Murderous rage... rising... rising...

2001-08-19T16:48:00.000-07:00

I went to the Samuel French book store on Ventura today. I had forgotten what a thrill that place is. Not only is it a bookstore, (my favorite thing in the world) but it's a bookstore dedicated to the career that I love so well. I got a loverly new book about breaking into voice-over acting. Yay!

Charlie was right, tho. There was kinda a weird vibe going on in there. He said it smelled of flop sweat and desperation. I replied that that, in essence, was Hollywood to a "T."

I've also been doing a lot of thinking about why there's so much uglyness being used to market products nowadays. From commercials to magazines to billboards, there's ugly people looking terribly bored, usually accompanied by bad lighting, make up and photography. I've read a few articles about this "fad." They all seem to come to the conclusion that it's, "A backlash against the mainstream, a way for the disillusioned to come to grips with the grittyness that is our society."

Bullshit. Not only because it's smarmy crap, but for a more frightening reason. I believe that that sort of statement is being issued for a more sinister purpose.

A particularly observant quote: "Don't set out to raze the shrines. You'll frighten people. Instead, enshrine mediocrity; and you've razed the shrines." Who said it? Ayn Rand in The Fountainhead.

This use of ugliness is not a backlash, it's not a way to sell product with a, "Hip, edgy new awareness of what constitutes beauty." It's enshrining uglyness. To raze the shrine of beauty. To confuse and cloud the issue so that, when presented with true beauty, people are unable to differentiate real, soul wrenching beauty from what they are told is beautiful. A really good example of this idea is, (in my opinion) the last scene in the movie American Beauty. If you haven't seen it, then I won't spoil it for you. But if you have, then you know what I'm refering to. To look into the blank eyes of somebody, and then call it beautiful... To me, the message was, "To have no soul, to be in a state of unthinking, unfeeling death, THAT is beauty."

Sorry to sound so rant-y. I just hate being told that being ugly (inside and out) is a good thing.

2001-08-19T11:48:00.000-07:00

More work craziness:

Had to attend a mandatory meeting today at the Sandwich Shop. (Duh. Mandatory means ya gotta be there. It doesn't mean, however, that I have to like it.) It started at 9:00 and didn't end until 11:00!

Now, this strikes me as the height of sillyness. I mean, c'mon! Two freakin' hours to discuss sandwiches!?! It was so freaking boring. The boss man got up, handed us all sheets on sexual harassment and then proceeded to read it to us! Like we're a bunch of kindergarteners or something. Then, the other boss man, (Bagel the sexual harasser... see previous post...) gets up and starts babbling for about 15 minutes on the subject.

Grrrrr....

This is getting ridiculous. That we, as a society, have progressed so far into political correctness that it takes two hours to discuss something that should be common sense... The mind boggles.

On top of the harassment topic, we also discussed how to wash dishes, how to arrive at work on time, and the importance of being presentable in a clean uniform.

My questions are: Why are these people let out of their cages and why the fuck is the owner hiring them?

2001-08-18T14:42:00.000-07:00

Ok. News of the Stoned and Disturbed.

My boss at the sandwich place, Bagel, came up to me this afternoon and said, "Hey, check this out!" And showed me his wrist.

Not seeing any tatoos or other strangeness, I inquired what I was looking for. He said, "That red stuff right there." Indeed, his wrist was slightly red. So I asked him who gave him the indian burn. He replys, "No, those are handcuff burns, baby!"

Ew. Ew ew ew ew. I almost asked him if the cops finally arrested him for all the POT that he keeps in his house. But I wisely kept my mouth shut and ran like mad the hell out of the walkin. (He always manages to accost me when I'm alone, and then tell me all these inappropriate stories. I would rat the guy out, but he's so damn pathetic I just don't have the heart to.)

2001-08-17T09:29:00.000-07:00

Update: Mouth, while feeling a tad bit better, still hurts. I am about ready to snap. I think that I shall... nah. Too brutal.

Hair cut stood the ultimate test: I fell asleep on it with all kinds of gooey product in it, and it didn't turn into cowlick hell. So that's a good thing.

It's getting very hot out here. Very hot. Dry and windy hot. With the dust and the pollen and the sneezes and the watery eyes and glavin!

I'm thirsty. Water. Yes.

2001-08-16T10:30:00.000-07:00

Man, my mouth still hurts. It's a pulpy mass of burned flesh, and anything I try to eat just tears it up that little bit more. Last night, I made the mistake of trying to gently brush it with my toothbrush, hoping against hope that it would get rid of some of the hangy bits. Of course, that only made it worse. Spitting blood, while cool when you're 16 and trying to freak out your sister, is no fun at all.

Watched a particularly vile episode of South Park last night. Now, I really liked the movie. I thought it was well done. Matt Parker and Trey Stone did a really phenomenal job with it. Other than that, those two guys are sick sick sick.

No sleep. Again. Why can I not fall asleep anymore?

2001-08-15T10:52:00.000-07:00

boredtiredneedtogetoutofthisbobdangedapartmentbeforeigototallyapeshit.

*sigh* Somebody entertain me, soon...

2001-08-14T20:06:00.000-07:00

Slacker Princess to the rescue!

Well, not really.

I'm currently "between jobs" at the moment, even though I still kinda have the Sandwich thing going on. Which leaves me with a hell of a lot of time to sit at the computer and stare like a glassy eyed goldfish who's water hasn't been changed in two months.

(God, I love metaphore. Too bad that I suck at using it...)

Burned the roof of my mouth, so I'm lisping like little Ronnie Howard in the Music Man. And in about 5 minutes, a nice hot pizza, (with palete searing cheese and tomato sauce) shall arrive at my door, and probably make it worse.

Wow. I'm smart, huh?

Um. Trying to lose weight. As always. I stink at it. Maybe this time I'll have a polite chat with my cellulite and convince it that it just needs to move out instead of getting lost. Oh, wait. Pizza. Not good. Gotta stop that.

Coffee. Soon.