5. Finally saw Hedwig. Yes. To everything that's already been said.
6. I just looked at the flyer the lead singer gave me on Saturday after the show and there was an email address on the back of it. Sly.

Good things:
1. I went to see a rather silly party band on Saturday, the lead singer of which appreciated my participation in their Barenaked Ladies covers so much that he pulled me on stage to help them sing "Brian Wilson". It was that part of the movie. It was the last two minutes of the tv show right before the credits roll, to show there's been a status shift, and although things looked bleak for my character for the second act and most of the third, now everything's going to be aaallllllright. Yeah, it was better than karaoke, yeah, I was shaking like a leaf with excitement because yeah, it's one of my favourite songs and yeah, I did getting the mocking of my life as soon as it was over. Totally worth it.
2. I went to see The Blue Room. I've worked with both of the people in it, and it was jarring to see them naked but not as jarring as realizing the script was so weak it needed full frontal to make it interesting.
3. three days until I go to Indianapolis.
4. The commercial for cancer where the girl says, "Ten years ago I might not be sitting here today."
Bad thing:
1. My boss made us remove IM from our computers. There is no longer any reason to work there.

i try to stop liking this guy, and then, well . . . .jesus.


"If I wasn't an actor on a hit show, I think I'd still get laid. Girls are attracted to guys who are themselves, who don't feel they have to sit in the corner of a cool bar drinking and smoking. I'm the guy who, with his friends, says, 'Let's get trashed and see The Lord of the Rings for the 17th time."

There's a type, a trend in my life, maybe it's the LOTR-geek factor. I dunno. Of the past five movies I've seen, four of them were lord of the rings, but that's not it and we both know it.
He's honest, I'll give him that.

feel:creaky in my bones, but sweaty and good.
eat:lime jello
drink:the last of the honey brown
wear:awesomepants, one of three X-Files tshirts, (the "i want to believe" one to be exact)
watch: empire strikes back
song: The Clash, Lost in a Supermarket
at home in my: outsider complex.

I was asked to order lunch for the office meeting on friday, which leads me to believe we will be enjoying sandwiches and each other's company and not getting yelled at, as I had originally suspected. It could be a yelling sandwich party, but as long as there's sandwiches I'm not going to complain.
And also: Kirstie Alley needs to go away.

I'm inexplicably smitten with Dave Matthews today.
I don't have any of his albums, I just think he's cuddly.
I have to come in two hours early on Friday for an office meeting, which they've never asked me to do. I'm guessing it's not a ruse so they can throw a suprise party for me, but I'm going to pretend it is. I'm even going to walk in and act suprised.
"oh! you guys!"
"shut it, punk."

There's nothing like a little Northey to decentralize a shabby, self-centered afternoon. Why is he so damn good for the soul?

I wish I had worn anything other than this xxl x-files tshirt underneath my big ass sweater. I am so feakin hot right now.

Repair AND Assassination, eh? sneaky monkey.

I fix you . . NOW I KILL YOU!!!

So that was what was supposed to happen in that sketch. The night I went, the fucker in front of kevin kept grabbing him and being a general asshole, so they couldn't finish the sketch. I'm thinking, "you know what asshole? They're the Kids in the Hall, they are really funny. I bet what they have planned is even funnier than you grabbing Kevin's legs and not letting go. Asshole."

This coffee may smell like chocolate raspberry, but it tastes like unholy crap.

I really ought to have more in my stomach than coffee. I really ought to have more in my bank account than 86 cents.
Tonight is 24/smallville night at alex and jess's. It used be called "dark night" as it was the night everybody went to someone's house to play Perfect Dark. Now it's not everybody, it's just me, alex and jess. We still get sloppy drunk and smoke too much. Rolicking!
I miss being rowdy.

I need to update my wishlist.

You know what's weird? I look at my amazon wishlist, and I really like the stuff I put on it. It's ridiculous and obvious, but when you look at a list of things you like, you start to get a little crush on yourself. "I like everything on here. Man, I have so much in common with me. I am the cutest girl ever!"

Maybe it's just me.

I'm sure I'm sorry. I just can't let go.

My brother took my v/o demo to make me many a copy, and gave me two real mackenzies cds for my trouble. My brother is hella cool. Did I ever tell you about the time I was walking past the lockers in high school and a girl had a photocopy picture of my brother up on the inside door of her locker? yeah, odd. I guess he's attractive in an abercrombie kinda way.

I remembered at my sister's birthday party today that I had a dukes of hazzard lunchbox when I was little. I was a weird kid. I was either a pseudo-tomboy or completely boycrazy from day one. I'm leaning toward a blend of the two, and not much has changed.

And this page won't load, why?

Had the audition yesterday. Have no hope of being cast. They made me sing. I belted "Forget your troubles/c'mon get happeeee/ we're gonna chase all your blues away . . . . ."
It was deliciously humiliating.

New article today. It's like a puzzle, try to find the funny joke.

If I had a band, it would be called "The Kidney Heist".

Nothing of importance to mention, so I will blog a list of inanities:
1. there is both celery and corn in my marinated vegetable salad. One makes me ill, the other pleases me in it's "doesn't belong in a salad" defiance.
2. A guy on the subway had a staring contest with the side of my face. My face totally won.
3. What is the origin of the word "dibs"?
4. I can almost look at my reflection in shop windows without gagging. Not damn!worthy, but inspiring nonetheless.
5. My dhka article is painfully boring and due two hours ago.
6. old referral i just noticed: um, yes please. Don't mind the fake part.
7. Just ate a roll of fruit flavored certs. Very satisfactory.
8. One more fyucken word about star wars and I will impale myself on a wrought iron fence.
9. Spent the whole morning on TWoP reading smallville recaps. If you reflected a loser into another loser, you would have me-infinity.

I read my posts from todayish last year. I was in love with Tom Cavanaugh (was?) and Nick Drake, and I pretty much was in the same place I am right now, except this room was still light blue. I am in a repetitive cycle that is like a comforting hum that lulls me into submission. when I look back in a year I won't know what this means, and I won't have changed.

mmm . . .nick drake.

in eachother's shadows we grew less and less tall / til eventually our theories couldn't explain it all / we're recording our history now on the bedroom wall/ and when we leave the landlord will come/ and paint over it all/
and i am walkng
out in the rain and i am listening all alone
to the dial tone again
and i am getting
nowhere with you
and i can't let it go
and i can't
get
through.

worth restating.

I can't go away with you on a rock climbing weekend/ what if something's on tv and it's never shown again?

I just found out I have to sing for my audition on saturday. I wish they would have told me three years ago, I could have prepared something.

Find out which LifeSaver you are.

I think I'm addicted to four-hour walks. I'm craving a good one right now. I know after about 2 and a half hours my legs start to feel like lava, but I still want to walk out the door right now with one cd and see where I end up by 7 tonight.
Last night I confirmed that I a) finally live in a neighborhood where I can leave my sunglasses on the front porch and they will still be there the next morning and b) am still allergic to fabric softener.

There's a retirement planning meeting taking place five feet from me that I'm not involved with because I am a "last rung" employee. Lots of talk about death. and, he brought sandwiches!

Ultimate Fakebook.

I'm using a piece of heavy tape and a binder clip to hold the front of my shirt together.
Stupid bosom.

I heart craig. There isn't a single post I can point to, I heart them all.

Which annoying B-list celebrity are you?

Why do I always feel like I've just spent the day swimming? I'm all muscle sore and sun sleepy.

Some asshole somehow got into my hotmail account and sent me some stupid creepy email, from myself. So fucked up. I changed my password. If anybody who reads this got something crazy from me about shapeshifting reptiles, I'm really sorry. I wonder how long this has been going on. I feel dirty.

I'm at my mom's now and I'm feeling sane again. I walked around delaware park twice. That's a big friggin park. Everybody deserves a relationship freakout once in a while, and this is my first in six years. I had it coming to me. I did miss my bed last night. I have the best bed, seriously.

I called my mom and my sister and neither of them are home. I could catch a bus into the city. My bags are already packed. I could take a taxi if I had any money. I could take a taxi if they accepted credit cards. Instead I'm just sitting here realizing I don't have anybody I can call. Realizing how embarassing it's going to be when he comes home and I'm still here with my bags packed waiting for a ride.

Nice dramatic exit, loser.

I constantly crave platonic cuddling with people who are not my boyfriend. I'm confident that that and my obssesion with a pasty white guy have more to do with Todd's 16 hour days and my abandonment issues than it does with me being a freak.
What a journey of self- discovery this is turning out to be.
I'm realizing that my dad always was and still is a workaholic. I guess pshychologically speaking that would make me want to hang out with guys that work too much?
Then why does it repel me? Shouldn't I be enjoying this, pshychologically speaking?
I like guys that ignore me, if that counts. I have issues, don't I?

Shut up. Let's hold hands.

I just bought a rather large bag of pretzel rods with money that I can't afford to spend on such things. The bag now lives on the office kitchen counter because in this mixed up world it would be unseemly for a woman to have complete control of a full bag of snacks, low fat or otherwise. So now if I want to spend time with the pretzels, I have to get up and walk over to the kitchen where they are unsafe from the pilfering fingers of overworked and underfed architects.

mmmm-salty.

It's bean a while since I've done currents.
feel: warm and sleepy
wear: charcoal grey yoga pants, linty black fleece thingy
hair: in a towel. That's right, a star wars towel.
watch: teen horror flick. Yummy empty calories.
song: The Pogues "London Girl". Download that motherfucker. Seriously.
so bloated: my desk is too tight.

Ahh, some would argue that this is one of the many reasons I am entirely unmarriable.
;)

How the fuck's Nova Scotia?

What the fuck is wrong with this page?
How many times can I swear in one post?
Like that my page is not only fucked up, but that I lost my last post about how bad the play was last night and how much diet pepsi I can drink in under 2 hours. i can swear about that.

Ok, in five minutes I am going to put on a bra and go for a run. I swear.

it's about that time of the week.
I just ate a disgusting bowl of ramen. I am sick of being alone in this house.

You. Come over. Now.
We'll take a nap and listen to The Pogues. I'll make turkey chili and do my Beth Gibbons impression. You can use anything in my bathroom cupboard that you want. There's a lot of fun stuff in there, lotions and makeup and hair stuff and girl stuff . . .

I'm going to spend all day on this page.

link courtesy of sarah.

I got a tape of my voice over reel. Ya know what? Not too fuckin bad. He put some really appropriate music to it and sweetened my voice up all nice. It sounded ok. Of course, the tape is about six minutes of me reading commercials, so as soon as I put the tape in I fast forwarded through it, but what I heard at the beginning was very promising.


My God . . . .what is it like to like yourself, so very much? This is not a criticism, this is damn near interplanetary communication. What is the color of the sky in your world?

My last post was from last night that for some reason didn't publish, so now it looks like I enjoy beer for breakfast. hm. different.

I came in this morning and someone has just finished an uber-early meeting. You'd be amazed how incapable grown men can be of pushing in their own chairs. The place was empty and all the chairs were no less than three feet away from the table. It was so Poltergeist.

feel: just this side of sleepy
drink: j.w. dundee's honey brown
eat: saltines
wear: kith tshirt, second city sweatshirt (go roots!) yoga pantsies.
website: cr
sell-your-mother-wish: french bread pizza
watch: Ed, remember Ed? awwww . . . . . my eddie. . . .
article: sent in "and then she got all 'HULK-SMASH' " due to an uninspiring newsweek.
ten random thoughts on love: I'm up to six.
holla: started my own thread on the newsgroup that no one will respond to because it is dumb. That's 2 in 2 weeks time. That's 2 more than ever.

I did the demo. It was ok, except for the fact that I realized I'm striving to become the thing I most despise: commercial talent. I bet there's something obnoxiously poetic about that. I sounded ok considering I've never done anything like that before. And that my voice is female baritone turtlesque.
Further proof that my life would be grand if I lived in cartoon town.

I have been told that I smell like an open air bazaar, and that I am bizzare, but in a way that makes me unique girlfriend material.
Hear that?

feel: kinda gross
drink: black coffee
eat: too much turkey sandwich, chocolate bunny shoulders
song: Last night - The Strokes
semi-smitten: heath ledger
later: get taken out to dinner as compensation for earlier emotional trauma
even later: watch smallville from the stationary bike.
sore: hamstrings
little known fact about me: one time i forgot to put on deodorant, so when I got to work I used a lemon fresh clorox wipe-up instead.

(and by "one time", I mean, "today")

I don't know what he looks like, but I'm betting your George Lowe trumps my Harland Williams. Although I highly doubt he beats my George Lucas.

I see him for fifteen minutes a day, and he spends those fifteen minutes being bitchy and hateful.
bah.
I need something to make me feel better. Would it be wrong to start drinking this early?

See which Greek Goddess you are.

nude lady.

The *starred* items in the post from friday were "head crushed" and "running faggot" in that order.

So my brother calls and he asks if Todd is around, and I tell him no, that he rehearses until 11. Well, since he leaves tomorrow and is gone until I don't know when, I ask what he's doing. "I'm going to see Lord of the Rings at the Imax. I gotta go." I don't care so much that he didn't invite me to go, I don't really care. I care that he called to invite my stupid boyfriend and not me.
As if my boyfriend is any fucking fun.

I tried to take a bubble bath after I worked out. That's right, I've taken to seducing myself. It's going so well, I think I might score later.

I just can't do the "bath" thing. I'm not a "draw a bath" kind of girl. There's so much preparation, the candles blow out, you can't open the wine, the music's not appropriate. And you never really realize how truly scuzzy your bathtub is until you're soaking in it. Before you know it the water is cold and the phone is ringing.

Anyway.

I never learned to swim
can't grow a beard or even fight
I lied about being
The outdoor type.

feel:warm and sleepy
eat: rice
wear: bathrobe
hair: wet
listen:the best of the lemonheads
watch: tapes of smallville.
mondays: suck.
later: watch harland williams on conan if I can stay awake.