Some good news:
Elsewhere, the decline in ozone levels has stabilized, said Betsy Weatherhead, a researcher at the University of Colorado at Boulder and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.

The stuff going on in the south is breaking my heart.

Rest in peace, little iPod. I took good care of you, but it wasn't enough. We had some good times. I discovered Aberfeldy with you. I wore out a set of cheap headphones on you. I made love mixes that never saw the light of day on you. I knew something was wrong last week at the gym when you got stuck on an Apples in Stereo Signal in the Sky and I couldn't wake you up. It looked like you might get better, but when you started just scanning through Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, I knew it would just be a matter of time.
I look forward to enjoying the one they send to replace you. I alreayd miss the postal service. A lot.

Is three new ipods in nine months a lot?

"[I] decided it was time to get out of my apartment and join the party... wait, hold on a sec." Davis then lapsed into silence as his full attention became focused on Lost Kingdoms II.


Kind of precious, no?

Meow.

Moral conflict

I've been getting emails at my hotmail account meant for a different, british version of a sarah with my last name. Not a lot, but enough. I've sent emails to her friends and her mom, letting them know they had her address wrong. One of them refuses to change her address book, though, and now I'm getting invitations to garden parties among other interesting items. Apparently, Lucy is a real head case (I know this from emails that I've gotten from her, apologies mostly) and bloody Gallager can't keep his trap shut about Jemma and Nick. But honestly, Jemma started seeing Nick before he broke up with Cath, so I don't blame Lucy for giving her shit about it, or for blabbing to bree about it while she was in Melbourne. AS IF Nick can be trusted now. You know if that's how you meet, that's how you're going to break up, it's just a matter of time. Anna is being great about the whole thing, but she really ought to wonder why sarah isn't getting back to her on any of this.

Here's the conflict part:
Send an email telling them they have the wrong address?
Pretend the emails are meant for me and respond accordingly?
Ignore it, hoping somehow this will all take care of itself?

I'm opting for number three, hoping I get an update on the Cath-Jemma-Nick situation. Come on, Anna. I'm dying here.

"The class lasted three hours, the post class discussion- THREE CAPPUCCINOS."
That ad makes me want to punch myself in the face.

Having an Average Weekend

I had shows every night this weekend, and rehearsal every night lastt week and this coming week. Not like there's anything else going on in my life that I need to deal with. God this floor is dirty. I just swept you, floor. I need to go to bed.

Borrowed from sarah via tavie:

Go to your music player of choice and put it all on shuffle. Say the
following questions aloud, and after each one press play. Use the song
title as the answer to the question.

What do you think of me, iTunes?
MF Cato Salsa experience

I'm pretty sure my ipod just called me a motherfucker. Well played, apple. Well played.

Will I have a happy life?

Every Planet We Reach gorrilaz
Todd put that song on there and I never listened to it so don't know what it means. I'll listen to it in the morning and write something witty in here later.

What do my friends really think of me?
Her Majesty The Beatles

I swear. Seriously. Hot guys are "too shy" to talk to me. Yeah, that's it.

Do people secretly lust after me?
On the Horizon Sloan
no, but they will? I don't know. "The nicest thing of mine is yours."

How can I make myself happy?
an untitled track off of the Oddbody mix. It's creepy group of men and women chanting against terrifying chamber music.
Um, try satanism?

What should I do with my life?
The king of Carrot Flowerts pts 2&3 Neutral Milk Hotel

I love you, jesus christ.

Why must life be so full of pain?
anyone who's anyone Sloan

I. Am. Not. Cool. I get it, ipod.

How can I maximize my pleasure during sex?

Dance of the Drumfreishire Dwarves from lifescapes "Scottish Moors"
I wish I was kidding.

Can you give me some advice?
Sunspots Modest mouse
A piece of music with no lyrics. Well, F you too, ipod.

What do you think happiness is?
Lost in the Supermarket The Clash

Can't say anything snarky about that song. Delicious.

Friday fun links
one
two
three*

*This is like one of those magic eye things. Stare at the cross in the middle, and let your eyes go out of focus. Then back in. It gets crazy. I can't make those magic eye things work, but I can do this. Shit's bananas.

I'm blue!

I'm ugly. But at least in this one picture I don't have a second chin trying to eat my face. Also, the interview took place about six weeks ago and all of my answers were paraphrased from his notes. It's all slightly out of context, so it doesn't really sound like me. Eh. He did do a good job of making me sound slightly interesting, I guess. I think my big worry is that people are reading it and tearing me up behind my back. Which they probably are.

Ergh. Life is high school without the uniforms. You didn't have to wear uniforms? Then: Life is high school.

What's up? Nothing.

The shorter answer is best.

I am so pathetically overbooked. Really. For example: I have a show on Sunday with a group I FORGOT I WAS IN. Is it possible that anything I'm doing is remotely funny? I seriously doubt it.

Please enjoy this glorious ny comedy nerdsite. I adore. I love that I know (or, more accurately, know of) many of the people they talk about, I have been to 99% of the places they refer to, I even like the pictures of the bee. It makes me feel 'in the know' about something for the first time ever. I worried for a minute that they left the spoils off of their sketchstock listing, but I'm guessing we weren't on the bill yet when they got their info, so I can't really be a baby about it.

I forgot my wallet yesterday, which was the perfect capper to a sad, self-pitiful day. I'm dealing with finality of things, and dragging my feet through what I believe will be a long, lonely stretch of time. I refuse to lose sight of good things on the horizon: the lovely, vague gifts that life has to offer as long as you're patient and try not to complain too much. I figure: it's just good odds that if I hang out long enough eventually something good will happen. Also, I'm lucky enough to have friends who will meet me at the wtc to give me a hug and twenty dollars for my rehearsal. That is nothing to sneeze at.

adorable.

This is from an email I got from my mom today, regarding my nephew:

... took him to see "Valiant" very good moviewe laughed cause it was funny ..based on the real lives of the homing pigeons from WWII.


This is not one of those unauthorized biographies of homing pigeons.

is it that hard to remember? ok, then.

I haven't done much this weekend outside of battling the bitty bugs that inexplicibly swarmed my bathroom (of all places?) and eating mashed potatoes. I figured I'd wait and have a few bits and pieces saved up to write about.

I had a quick and intimidating rehearsal with the founder of our theater last Friday. He is great and smart. I was nervous and useless.
I ran out after and had some wineywine with some girlfriends, and we got 'picked up' by some guys from Italy. We all went to Coffee Bar together and My friend Rachel thought Mario Joyner was the maitre d'. It was adorable. "Was I dick? I don't know famous people! Was I a dick just now?" (She totally wasn't. He was well dressed and standing at the station kind of ambiguously. It's a simple mistake.)

Saturday was a blur. I don't remember much of saturday or sunday other than it was hot and I watched a lot of the Benson and Stabler show. Chung-chung!

My heart is super achey and sad. My heart is a douchebag. Remind me to pick up more butter.

I like smoked almonds the best.

No. Peanut m&ms are what I like best, but smoked almonds don't make me feel so bad about myself, and that's what I need in my life. I need a snack that doesn't degrade and humiliate me.

If you are into blogs like I am, you would like dave hill's blog, Caveman on a Spaceship:
http://davehilljournal.blogspot.com/
he is very funny. When you read it, imagine his voice is that of Jack Handy, which is what he sounds like when he does readings. It's . . . just . . .it's hilario. Trust me on it.

The Good in Everyone

When I was a kid, I always managed to leave art class with my hands covered in whatever we were dealing with. It was never intentional. I couldn't help it. Amazingly, I was often the only kid with dirty hands after class. That used to be my joke with the janitor, Mr. O'Connell. He'd say, "let me see your hands. very messy." And I would say nothing. I was a very shy kid. I only bring it up because my hands are blotted with ink in different stages of fade 24 hours a day.

Sloan's The Good in Everyone is the greatest, tightest 2 minutes and 17 seconds of music I've heard all day.

Online presence

Here be me other website. Yaaarr.

How. Many. Blogs. Can. One. Woman. Maintain.

I currently have/participate in five. two personal, two show-related and one anonymous weekly. and a moblog. I've become one of those people.

I always say, if my dayjob isn't fullfilling, at least it's easy. And I can blog like crazy. Fucking bananas.

Romantical Sabbantical

I don't have a day off until November. Technically, I have Monday nights and Saturday days off to be lazy, if I decide I don't want to buy groceries, clean my toilet or wear clean clothes. I rarely do those things anyway.

I knew all along but I am just coming to accept that I'm probably not going to get asked out until I lose weight. It's just a fact I need to get comfortable with. I think expecting someone to be interested in me the way I look right now is kind of asking a lot. I'm breaking my vow to not becomeone of those people who babble about their size (in the hopes that people won't notice if I don't bring it to their attention.) because I don't want to make it any easier on myself to ignore it. I have to work out and eat vegetables before I get to make out with someone who isn't my horny friend kristy. (no, I haven't, but i probably could.) Whatever. I think I have some good dating karma coming my way. Also, see above. I don't have the time to dedicate to properly making out with someone and making him feel liked and loved and properly made out with. So, I am sending my heart on vacation and focusing on other things, like combing my hair more than once a day, and my career. And stretching. And my friends. And reading. I finished Sex Drugs and Cocoa Puffs weeks ago. Maybe I'll take up a craft, like tap dancing or tae kwon do.

Speaking of hair, I've been showering at night for whatever reason (it's not getting me to work any earlier) but it's making my hair kind of awesome and crazy. This morning I put it up to wash my face, and I totally had southern belle wedding hair, with poof and soft ringlets and all. Hi y'all!

I love everyone.

It's saturday night and I am typing on the first computer I ever bought (used)(and set up myself. rawr.) and watching law and order svu on my own tv.
It's hot, I have no a/c and I'm drinking beer. Alone. Freedom is lonely and wonderful.

Tomorrow I'm having brunch with my girlfriends. I am so single it hurts. (in the good way, like chewing on a coldsore.)

Thinking of you. Not all the time, but you're in the rotation.

funny.

Dots 1-2-3

All the nails on my left hand are a perfect, delicate, attractive length. That's a symptom of some disease, right? When your nails get really long and strong? I am going to bite them.

I can't upload pictures to my moblog anymore, I think I may have had a change in service. I will look into it as soon as I have a free afternoon(=never). but I did change my layout. Pink is the new blog.

Richard Simmons is running around the halls of my friend's office. Do I wish I had a job like that? Probably.

11

another character I'd like to bone:
The guy who is the star of that one chemical brothers video. I think it's called "galvanize", where he's in the office. Anyway.

dizzy

I require sleep.
I leave the house at 7:30 (haha, just kidding. 8.) and I get home at midnight all the time. That can't be good for me.

There is no better song in the universe than Aberfeldy's Something I Must Tell You. I've listened to it 100 times in the past 12 hours. I like twee pop. I like sythesizers that sound like the cover of a lisa frank notebook. Something I Must Tell You is a unicorn riding a rainbow through space. It is the greatest song ever.

I finished my sketch for class already. It's about a cat burglar.

There are worse things to be.

My birthday was excellent. We had an insane number of people there. I danced all sexy with some (I assume gay) stranger, I hung out a little with a million different people and got really sloppy drunk. I got a lot of chocolate. Nice! Close to one o'clock the room we had reserved got kind of swamped with bar people who wanted to dance, so it got really loud and crazy. So, we left. yay.

I've realized I tend to completely forget that I'm single. Sometimes people introduce me to guys and I just say hi, make polite chitchat, and then walk away. And then my friends say, "what did you think?" Um. Wasn't paying attention?

My actual birthday I spent recovering. Then I had dinner and dessert with my brother, amy and tracey. It was quiet and nice. I like the big crazy party, but I really like the quiet dinner. We went to a psychic, who sees me "moving to california". Whahuh? Me, leaving New York? No, you don't. Wild horses, people. Wild. Horses. Also, there is an initial "__" who is interested in me. Yeah, I know. He's working his way through all of my friends. He has ausberger's or survived some kind of head injury. He's creeeeeepy. Blargh. (Although it could, techinically, be someone else, which I know it isn't, but it could be. it would be nice if it was. or whatever. Tell me to let it go already.)

Yesterday I had my first writing class. It was really fun. 16 women comedy writers! neato. I learned how to pitch. I think. I might still be terrible. I tend to act stuff out instead of quickly explaining it.

I thought it was impolite for people to ask how old you are? Everybody asks me. And then they go "No way. You don't look it." in that really unconvincing way. Meh. There are worse things to be than 31.

birthday style

yay!

sniffle

This song made me cry at a party once. But this was back in february or march, when things like a strong wind or looking at marshmellows made me cry.

I can see it, davey by barbara kessler

Well I've got to hand it to you
But I know you won't take it
The truth about you is such that
You would never be able to fake it
And now you find yourself at this dead end
With hardly the heart to get off the couch
And start over again
But I can see it Davey
The tunnel from the other end
When we get through it we'll be waving to you
We'll walk in the sun again

Name 10 fictional characters you want to bone.

It can be anyone from any book, movie, play, TV show, videogame, comic, song, epic poem, or any other art form I'm forgetting.

There are probably more characters I'd like to "bone", but these are the first ten I could come up with.

1. Zach Braff's character in Garden State
2. Faramir
3. The "character" or "voice" or "narrator" of all of the songs on the postal service's "Give Up" (except for this place is a prison and nothing better.)
3. Brian Krakow (My So-Called Life)
4. John Dorian (Zach Braff's character on Scrubs)
5. Aaron from Wonderfalls.
6. Lex Luthor (smallville)
7. Jason Bateman on arrested development
8. Ed from the show called "Ed".
9. Dave Nelson (newradio)
10. Cal MacDonald (Zombie/vampire/werewolf/beastie hunter, from steve niles cal macdonald mysteries.)


Can I actually bone? I doubt it.

Edit: I totally win by having two number threes. Hilarious. I'm leaving it. Also: I swapped Johnny Knoxville for Cal MacDonald. badboy for badboy = even trade + meow.

I just got an amazing early birthday gift from my friends. They're paying for me to take an uber-expensive writing class with an snl writer. I've been talking about getting my "pack" together for far too long. (when people ask if I've been auditioning, the answer is embarassingly "no, my headshot is two years old.", I say "I'm getting my writing pack together." Which generally ends that line of questioning. Mainly because it doesn't make sense, but it sounds like it should.) I don't even know if it's "pack" or "packett". I don't know what goes in there, either. So this should get me sorted. Or get me on the road to sorted.

I watched two Lifetime Original Movies this weekend.

"A Family Torn Apart", is a movie about Neil Patrick Harris chopping his parents to pieces because they are jerks. It also starred that boy from Roseanne who lived in the basement with Sarah Gilbert. This movie was great. Most of the movie you thought it was the boy from Roseanne who did the killing (you know the whole time the parents are dead) because he gave his parents a lot of backtalk, but then in the end, it was NPH all the way. Knowing the end does NOT ruin your enjoyment of this movie. Also, it was based on a true story! Can you believe that shit? NPH killed his parents in real life!

"Evil Has a Face", starred a somber Sean Young. It was mostly boring, but here's a funny part. A little girl is trying to tell Sean Young what was wrong with the forensic drawing of the man who attacked her. They're sitting by a lake, and a random, jovial older man approaches them and says, "Lovely day we're having!"

Girl: The picture should look more like him!
Sean Young: (looks) Bald?
Girl: No . . .
Sean Young: (looks again) Fat? Is he fat like him?
Girl: No . . he's OLD!
And the poor guy is standing there the whole time , like, "Um, so, do you ladies agree that this day we are having is lovely?"

I also saw Dark Water, which was like a good, ghosty Lifetime Original Movie.