Death of a Bicycleman

Finally, the Christmas tree picture. Happy after-Thanksgiving! I hope everyone had as nice a one as we did here. Julia hosted our dinner for 10 in her swanky new downtown loft. The table was large enough for all of us AND all the food we cooked. We started the morning out with the usual Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf tradition courtesy of Amy and Joey. I got a 19lb turkey to cook, my biggest one ever. I was, of course, in my element acting as master of the kitchen. It's a delicious sort of symphony, putting dishes in the oven, pulling dishes out, while making gravy from scratch. I loved every minute. Not that I did everything, we had some great contributions from everybody that really rounded out the day. We also had some unexpected guests that I was so happy to see. It was a really great day.

Naturally my semi bi-polar self, after having such a lovely day, had to drop back down to the depths. The last two days have been shamefully sad and hopeless for no discernible reason. To top off the general angst, I have a traumatizing story to tell. Today as I was driving to work I had an incident with a bicycler. It had to happen someday, what with all the retards of L.A. either riding a bicycle or stepping without looking into a barely marked crosswalk. Those people must think they have some sort of force field surrounding them that makes them impervious to 2,000lb vehicles driving 50 miles an hour....they can stop them with sheer will power you see. Normally I take this into account and watch so carefully, but you can't see whats behind you. I don't really know what happened. All I heard was a bunch of cursing and shouting. I thought I'd run over a cone or something and the parking guy was yelling at me. Turns out there was a man down on a bicycle. He must have hit me or, I him, when I was turning right into the parking lot. And just in case the LAPD runs across this blog, I stopped, checked with him to make sure he was ok, offered to call someone, and he just continued to yell at me and then walked away. The last person I should call when something like this happens is my mother. Who, bless her heart (that was for you Shan), has the best of intentions towards helping me out, but usually just ends up making me more upset. I called Shannon first, and the douche didn't answer, of course. I was freaked out and upset so I called mom. By the time I got off the phone I fully expected that there was a Sheriff's Posse, air support, and most of LAPD out in force looking for the rogue bicycle maimer that left the scene of the crime. I stopped by our security office, they let me know that there was nothing to be done. However, by the time I got to my bosses office they simply had to ask me if I was okay before I proceeded to burst into hysterical tears. They were really nice about it but I hate crying at work. It's such a girl thing to do. Anyway, by the time I left tonight I was ready to crawl into a hole and never emerge again. Luckily today is Julia's birthday so I was required by the People-who-have-been-friends-for Over-10-Years Codebook to suck it up and go out. I'm very glad that I did because I feel moderately more sane. It's always good to be the one who's friends are almost all older than her.

In other news, I've been watching Alias non-stop. I HIGHLY recommend the show, against my wishes I totally love it. Amy has 4 seasons on DVD and I'm up to Season 3. And, if I haven't mentioned it yet. GO SEE ROCKNROLLA! I'm not kidding. It's been out awhile so it might be out of theatres near you but you can put it on your Netflix now. As for me, it's purchase-worthy, which says alot. FYI, 60 pages in on the screenplay. It's not like I haven't been doing stuff, like school, work, and writing, yet I still feel like a lazy-ass. Maybe I'm too hard on myself.

Apple bottom jeans, boots with the fuuuuuuuuur

I have a complaint. And since I'm not stick thin, I feel I have a right to say something. The current issue: skinny jeans. Regardless of the fact that they are a horrible fashion trend, it's made even worse by the people who choose to wear them and shouldn't: Namely guys and overweight girls. I couldn't help but notice the bombardment of pudgy females sporting skinny jeans that were at least 2 sizes smaller than they should have been even for jeans labeled 'skinny.' So I can't help but wonder if those girls were mislead into thinking that skinny jeans make your size 16 ass look like a size 6. Au contrare, mes amis. Skinny jeans mean 'for skinny people only.' You know, kind of like Apple Bottom jeans shouldn't be worn by the white chick in Adam Sandler's song 'I like small butts.' There is nothing sexy about handfuls of flab flowering out from over you waistband and below your too short shirt. Plus, they all look like some horrifying human version of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. I'm plenty aware that I'm not nice, but someone should tell them. Do they not have any friends? I'll also choose to not even mention that guys should never EVER put them on. Alright, I've had my say.

Good news. I'm hacking away at my screenplay. I have now run out of sample pages on the demo version of Final Draft. and I'm wishing that there was anyway around paying $150 or so for the full version. This is a great segway into my next topic. My friend Joey just joined SAG and they have these great seminars and 'conversations' that members and a guest can attend for free. For instance they just had the cast of ER. I believe you sign up, get to be in the audience while they are asked questions by the audience or by some sort of moderator. I'm not quite sure so don't sue me if I'm wrong. Anyway, she invited me to go to the 'Business Plan for Actors' seminar on Monday night. I agreed to go thinking that it might be nice to do something out of the ordinary and also that Joey's just fun to hang out with in general. We made it down to the SAG building on Wilshire right on time and grabbed a couple seats. It was a packed house. I had so many interesting thoughts. First of all I was surprised at how not intimidated I was. I thought it would be packed with gorgeous people who were impossibly thin and talented. This was not the case. They were all very...normal. The talk was led by a working actor who also has an MBA and teaches at UCLA extension. He had alot of really good things to say about being of service and how that should be the main goal of your life. I have thought this for years. It was very interesting to hear how he incorporated it into achieving your goals as an actor. I don't feel like boring anyone further but if you're interested in specifics just give me a heads up. Anyway, the business plan was also very useful for getting anything done, including writing and marketing my screenplay.
Somehow the motivation to write has also led to motivation for other things. I got homework done, correspondence written, Netflix watched, and tons of other stuff. Shoot, I promised Christmas tree pictures. I'll get them, I swear.

Currently watching - Into the Mouth of Madness - sort of recommended if you have low standards
Currently reading - Moliere plays for FLIT - Highly recommended

Speed-dating with a Highway Patrolman

I hope everyone had a lovely Veteran's Day. I myself spent most of the weekend working but on Sunday night I left for Arizona. My cousin Kim lives in Phoenix, as do my grandparents and Aunt and Uncle part time. She just had her second baby so I thought I'd go visit while she was still on maternity leave. Her kids are very cute and we had a good, although short, visit. I wasn't expecting to see them but my grandparents got into AZ the same day I did so we got to have a visit. My Grammy seems to be failing a little more every time I see her and it makes me so sad. She gets so upset when we go. I stayed until Tuesday night and then headed back home. Fun little incident on the way back...
I stopped in Quartzsite which is right before the Cali border, to get gas and food. As I was pulling back onto the highway I noticed a State Trooper just chilling by the side of the road. As I glance in my rear view mirror he turns on his lights and gets on the road. I glance around and think, "Oh crap, I'm the only one out here." Seeing that I wasn't speeding I figured it had to be a light out or something. The trooper comes up to the drivers window, asks for my license, insurance, and registration, and then tells me my license plate light is out. How nice. He then asks me to step back to his squad car. Immediately I think, "What the hell?" I had just heard on the news about women getting pulled over by fake officers and I got a little scared. I walked back there and he shows me which light is out...as if I'm too stupid to figure out that the 'light above the license plate', is INDEED the light above the license plate. As he's filling out the ticket/work order warning, these are the things he asks me. (I make none of these up.) -So what were you doing in Arizona? -Did you grow up there? -No, Alaska, huh? What town? - What did you get at Carl's Jr.? (where I just stopped) -How WAS your crispy chicken sandwich? - How do you like your Jeep? - How's the gas mileage? - What do you do for work in CA?
Seriously? Listen, Buster, you're giving me a lame-o ticket, we're not speed dating here.
I have no idea what Mr. Over-achiever was trying to accomplish, but I guess you get bored sitting on a highway in the middle of nowhere for hours at a time. Anyway, I got home in record time after figuring out I've been taking a lame way all the times before.

Wednesday I had the unfortunate need to get two tires replaced. I hate going to places like that as a girl. They're just so weird about it. I got told I smelled nice, which maybe is why I got a discount, so I guess there's that. I had to do an emergency run to the Getty Museum because I left an assignment until the very last minute. It's a really nice museum with an amazing view of all of Los Angeles. Although sadly enough I'm still museum-burnt-out from this summer's Europe excursion.

Today I got out of my lab super early and stopped by Target to get a few last minute things for our Christmas tree decorating party that we had tonight. Obviously, my tree at my house. No one else is nutty enough to already have there's up. I did promise pictures and I will do so next time I write. So I was on my way home, and I thought for a minute and decided that I was so looking forward to the get together and that I was feeling something close to super happy. After I got home I had to clean out the storage space that's mine in the carport area, in order to get to the Christmas decorations bin. I remembered that I had been worried about a large box of stuffed animals that I'd put in there in January. I should have checked ages ago but I wasn't really concerned until just recently. Turns out my worst fears were realized and that a rat had nested in there at some point. I'm still incredibly freaked out by the thought and am traumatized because I went through it animal by animal and had to throw away some things I've had since I was a baby. It was disgusting. I hate rats. I think it's the book 1984, at the end, where they threaten to put rats in a box on top of someones stomach as a means of torture... that ruined me. We didn't have rats in Alaska to my knowledge. Anyway, my good mood deflated, whether because of that or something else. But again...there IS nothing wrong, I just can't stop the niggling feeling that there is. Maybe it's the weather. It seems whenever I smell the cold winter air it takes me back to last year at exactly this time when I really didn't like myself all that much. It was such a dark time and the residue of all of that remains. I guess I'm not sure how to make it go away, maybe it will when we reach this time next year and I can smell winter in the air without being taken back to a dozen shameful or embarrassing memories.

Regardless of rats and not being deliriously happy, the decorating was really fun. Amy, Julia, and Joey came over and we ordered pizza and watched Love Actually, which is the perfect holiday film. I actually ended up with more ornaments than I needed. This is surprising since my tree is HUGE. I mean it's really really large. 7.5ft tall and 4.5ft at the base. The angel's head doesn't quite reach the ceiling but it's close. It is, however, so incredibly beautiful. I am a sucker for Christmas, and Christmas trees are my undoing. Ever since I was little my favorite thing to do was sit in the dark with the tree lights on, listening to Christmas music. That this tree is all my own...well, it sounds lame but it feels like a tiny step towards actually being a grownup...or something like that. There are just enough ornaments that my mom gave me from when we were growing up, to make it all come together as truly mine. Now as long as my puppies don't eat the fake icicles off the tree, or any of the ornaments, we'll be all set.

Joy is a choice OR Happiness is optional

You know you're watching too much Gossip Girl when you take a picture at Disneyland and something like this runs through your head.

"Gossip Girl here...Spotted - The Big M on Main Street looking all too friendly with an unidentified blonde fairy. He's looking scrumdiddlyuptious in a purple, 'Willy Wonka'-style suit. But we can't help but wonder if Miss M would find her man as attractive if she knew what was going on behind her ears while she's across the way in Toon Town greeting her adoring fans.

You know you love me,

XO XO,

Gossip Girl"

Yes I know, sometimes I even worry myself a little. I'm just going to say that I have an active imagination and I'm a writer...everyone knows writer's are a little crazy.

Lately I've been pondering a couple of things: happiness vs. joy, and change in regards to age.

I have quite a bit of time every week to think like during drives to school, classes I hate, etc. When I was living in Florida I remember having moments where I'd just bubble over with happiness for no particular reason and even at the worst times I was really happy. But is joy the same thing as happiness? I looked them up...turns out 'happy' can have some really not-so-good connotations as well...such as being 'trigger-happy,' 'a punch-happy boxer,' and so on, giving us a feeling of too much of a good thing. No matter what, this doesn't solve my problem for why, with all the great things going on in my life right now I don't feel that overwhelming happiness. Not that I'm unhappy, really most of the time, I'm just smack in the middle at just 'OK.'

Once a long time ago when I was going through a really bad break-up I was seeing a counselor. And for those who know me, you know it was bad because normally I'd rather saw my own arm off that go anywhere near a counselor. (This is due to my parents scarring me for life. Note to future parents - when in counseling for your marriage, leave your kids out of it. You need the counseling, they don't.) Anyway, this guy was exactly what I needed at the time. When I explained to him that I just couldn't find my way out of the darkness, that there was no part of the me left who normally bounced back from any disappointment, any hurt, after just a couple of hours. My elastic was broken and I didn't see how I was ever going to be okay again. I explained a little about the relationship and he summed it up in one sentence what the problem was. Through all of it I had somehow let them steal my joy. I stopped crying and rambling, and sat to ponder what that meant exactly, and then I had a breakthrough. He was exactly right. Somehow I had wrapped myself up so completely in this other person that I forgot to keep all of who I was and just share. Everything I said or did was tied to their mood or their happiness. I spent all of me building them up only to find myself depleted and empty at the end of it. He promised me that now that I was aware after some time, it would come back to me again.

I would like to say that it was a short road, that it happened, like magic, when I moved away but it took a couple of years and alot of work. Until one day, I realized I was through it and that my joy was once again my own. Joy, happiness, contentment...what do they mean for us? No eye rolls, but the Bible talks about how when Paul, one of the disciples, was in prison and still managed to be 'joyful in all things.' You're in prison, dude, how in the world do you remain joyful during that. After much pondering I realized that joy has very little to do with our circumstances or we'd have very few times of real joy in our life what with traffic, gas prices, Bush, and so on. Joy is a choice, a state of mind that we choose to exist in even when things kind of suck. Joy is choosing to believe that whatever it is that this too shall pass, and to be one of those people that remains greatly unaffected by the 'weather' of everyday life. I have faith that in having held onto my joy that happiness will tag along behind it like an annoying little brother. Hmmmm...am I boring you yet?

Second topic - Change in regards to age.

In three more semesters I will finally have graduated with my BA but in less than two I will need to decide whether to get a job or fill out grad school applications. Most of the best schools for the programs I am interested in happen to be in Washington D.C., and luckily for me, Shannon lives there now so that's a huge draw. The problem is that the older I get the less pliable I am. Like playdough that's started to harden, I have a harder and harder time wanting to find a new comfort zone. I have taken a survey and I am not the only one that this is happening to!!! I used to feel that if I started running into people at the local grocery store it was time to move onto a new place. I have been in LA for over 5 years now and the idea of leaving a place I truly love doesn't excite me at all. Who is this person that I've become? Where is the girl that used to leave for the sake of leaving? Of course I have friends here that I love but I have just as many friends that live elsewhere, and school is temporary, I'm not particularly tied to my apartment, and on and on. Who knows...maybe I'll finish my screenplay or novel sooner than later and that will decide for me...you never know. In the meantime I'm going to visit Shannon in January. Actually visiting the place to see whether I like it or not might be helpful in making a decision.

PS. Christmas tree came! I'll post pictures once it's up and decorated.