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In the Fall, I will be taking:

TV Program Development
Writing The Sitcom
Small Screen Video
Improv Techniques
Urban Geography: The Study of Cities

After that, I only have one more semester in Chicago. I'm not done with Columbia, but done in Chicago. Next summer, if all goes according to plan, I'll be taking "Writing the One-Hour Drama" on the CBS Television lot for the Semester in LA program. And from there? Who knows. My friend who is out there now just got an internship with Passions. I'm hoping with Disney and Springer under my belt, I'll be able to get some sort of job/internship out of the SLA also. Preferably something that pays. Preferably a job as a Writer's Assistant for 24, Lost, Veronica Mars, The Office, Scrubs, It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia, Nip/Tuck, or something equally as exciting. Or maybe I'll come back to Chicago. Or maybe somewhere else. Who knows?

While I don't technically graduate in Spring of 07, I am walking in the ceremony. It's the only ceremony there is, so if I want to walk, that's when I'd have to do it. And I want to walk. A lot of people don't care about it, and many just don't want to do it. But it's kind of important to me. High School graduation was important I suppose, but not that big of a deal to me. It's what you're supposed to do. But when I think about walking in Spring, I think about all that I've done since High School. Western Michigan University where I made some awesome friends, worked on the radio station, and tried to figure out who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. Orlando, Florida, where I worked full-time at Disney World for 8 months and learned what I'm capable of. Then of course, Columbia College Chicago, where I, dare I say, finished what I set out to do at WMU, learning exactly who I was and exactly what I wanted to do. Who would have imagined that in 5 years my life would change so much? When I walk in the Spring, it's the culmination of all of that. It's the beginning of....ughhhh....real life.

for your amusement

I don't understand why people continually underestimate me. Why do people see my ability to laugh at myself and take failure in stride as a weakness? Just because I can take admit to my faults doesn't mean that I don't have strengths. Perhaps my dim-witted inexperience is merely a subtle form of manipulation used to lower people's expectations and thereby enhancing my ability to effectively maneuver within any given situation?

Mediocrity and I have always walked hand in hand. I was always so-so at the sports I tried. I got decent parts in plays. I can sometimes (but not always) win at card games. I don't think there's ever been a single thing that I would say I excel at. Besides being funny, which I tend to latch onto with every ounce of my being, on account of that being about all I've got working for me. I'm not sure where I was going with this. I guess I could just stand for a few less people acting like my life is a farce in which I bumble and fail at everything.

Speaking of success, today I forgot to put on deodorant and I didn't smell at all. Despite some moisture throughout the day, there was no stench. See? And you think I'm not good at anything.

things I like: summer '06 edition
























The Office webisodes

Qdoba burritos

Orientation Leader parties













Running along the lake

Going to the beach



















Global facebook groups

Rollerblading through Lincoln Park

Working on my Off The Clock pilot

Alcohol + Mad Libs

The 4way (coming soon)

Noodle In The Pot on Halsted



















Ava Moore before discovering her "secret"






























Air conditioning

My upcoming 2 1/2 week trip back home to lay by the pool

Lincoln Park bars

Not working at the restaurant anymore

















I'll add more as they come.

And it's not even the tribal pattern like the old one

I got a credit card in the mail. No, not a credit card application, an actual, real, honest-to-God credit card. It's the same card number as my current card. So basically, if I were to activate it, they would essentially be charging to the same account. But the thing is...I didn't order a new card. My card isn't even expired. So what's the deal? I'm halfway convinced that the ineptness of the mailroom workers at the UCC has once again caused inconvenience in my life, despite the fact that I moved out two months ago. Picture this. New person living in 534. Mailroom does not check names on incoming mail, gives them my credit card bill. Person in 534 gets my card information and orders a new card, hoping that the mailroom will fuck up once more, therefore getting their hands on my credit card.

Maybe that's a little farfetched. But credit card fraud happens, people. And you should all be vigilant. It's not always like that episode of Friends wear Monica becomes best friends with the girl stealing her credit card. If you charge shit on my dime, don't expect me to start taking dance classes with you and go out and try exotic cuisine. No, I'm sorry. I'm just not that type of person. Unless you teach me salsa dancing, because who can resist salsa dancing? Credit card theft be damned, let's get steamy on the dance floor.

Last night was the Orientation Leader gathering. And what do Orientation Leaders, the smiling, friendly faces of Columbia College, the first person a new student meets, do when they get together outside of work? Get shitfaced. Millie and I were the first ones to get to Jacobs, at about...9:00. We wasted no time, and by the time other people finally started showing up, we were already hobbling around trying not to act too wasted. I can't really remember any specific moments that stood out. That is, aside from Carolyn laughing (and not just laughing, but snorting) every time I told her Jonbenet's mom died. Oh, she would just lose it.

There's nothing good on TV and I'm way too lazy to start planning on what to do tonight. Pirates of the Carribbean is on USA, but if you figure in commercials, I think it's about 6 1/2 hours long. I'd say that Project Runway is stupid, but then I would have to answer to a million people vehemently defending it. The Suite Life of Zach & Cody just makes me feel terrible for those two twins who will no doubt finish puberty with thoughts of suicide every time they think about how awkward and weird they looked on that show. I don't want to watch TV, I don't want to watch a movie, I don't want to go outside, and I don't want to play video games. If I take a nap I won't wake up until tomorrow, but I'm starting to wonder if that's really such a bad thing.

"I put my feet in the printer because I thought it was my shoes"

I haven't written in a while. Now I don't know what to talk about or where to even start. I suppose it really doesn't matter, since I will inevitably get sidetracked and go on some inane tangent anyway.

I should at least mention my night with Jess Dangles. That should take priority over everything else that I may want to talk about. You see, Jess and I really should have a babysitter. Because we are children. We talk like children and we act like children. And alcohol only exacerbates this tendency. Perhaps I should mention the picture we took of putting our heads in the oven. Or the somersaults off of her brothers bed. Or rapping to 50 Cent and L'il Kim's "Magic Stick" at least 50 times. And let's not forget the mad libs. Walking over to her place, I knew that drunk mad libs with Dangles was going to be the icing on the cake. Unfortunately, due to the extreme amount of disgusting, volatile, racist, crude, and utterly filthy language we chose to use in said mad libs, I don't feel that this is a good place to post them.

Orientation is going well. Getting up at six definitely sucks. By the time I get home, all I want to do is pass out. But if I pass out, then I won't be able to sleep at night. Hence, I won't be able to wake up for work at six. Speaking of Catch 22, I haven't read any of it since I quit My Pie. Guess I should start taking it to work, since the biggest challenge an OL has to face is how to survive an insanely long and boring amount of downtime.

I burnt popcorn earlier. Bad. It lit on fire. I didn't even have it in for the full time I was supposed to. Now the whole apartment smells like it, and I'm just glad I'll be in bed before Matt gets home from work and says "Who the hell burnt something?!?!?" Sorry Matt. I had to pretty much fill the entire popcorn bag with water to stop it from smoking. Then I just threw it out. In retrospect, I should have taken it to the dumpster. Oh well, hindsight is 20/20. And I'm not home all day tomorrow anyway.

My new addiction (aside from renting Veronica Mars on DVD) is reading boring people's blogs. I don't know what it is, but I can't get enough of certain people's journals. I'm sure you know the kind I'm talking about. The ones where you read and just can't quite figure out why the author is even bothering to record such tedious and inconsequential things. Like what color garbage bags they bought or how much their suitcase weighed at the airport. For some reason, despite the fact that these blogs are less interesting than reading my grandmas grocery list, or hell, even the phonebook, I am thoroughly entertained. I find it funny. I laugh out loud sometimes. And the worst part? Most of the blogs I read? I don't even know the people writing them...

And who do I think I am to sit here and say that my blog is any better?

Oh come on. Face it.

Lastly, I want to make sure everyone has heard, or is at least aware of, Fergie (from the Black Eyed Peas) and her new solo song, "London Bridge (Oh Shit)" I think this is important, because never in our lives, will we ever witness lyrical genius that can even be compared to lines such as "Grey Goose got my girls feelin loose, and I'm wishin' that I didn't wear these shoes" Generations before us their was John Lennon. And now? "London Bridge (Oh Shit)"

How come every time you come around
My London London bridge wanna go down
Like London London what? It's goin' down.

And you thought "My Humps" was a masterpiece.

Frankie says relax

So I suppose there is indeed such thing as fate. I don't know whether or not I believed in it before. I guess nothing ever really happened that I could attribute to fate. But now there is. Now I'm a believer. (Not a trace of doubt in my mind....sorry)

On Saturday I was on the phone with my mom. I was telling her how I don't want to go back to work ever again because the mexicans in the back make fun of me in Spanish and I just don't like having to deal with that. I told her I wanted to just go home but couldn't because a bus or train ticket was too much. I told her if I could just get home I wouldn't even care if I never went back to work. I told her I didn't know what to do, that I didn't want to be irresponsible and immature, but I just didn't want to go back to My Pie.

If only I had a reason to stop going.

And then, while on the phone telling my mom I didn't want to go to work and I wanted to go home, my cousin calls. She says she'll give me 50 dollars if I go walk the dog later. Well, there's a pretty good excuse to not go into work. My cousin, who is the only person I know of who has had more jobs than me, gives me a pretty good reason not to go back to the restaurant. Then she offers me a ride back home Sunday morning. How perfect. 50 dollars to not go back to work, and a ride home. This all happens at the very same moment I had been telling my mom I wanted to quit work and go home. See? Fate.

Anyway, my whole family was in, including my brother, his girlfriend, and my grandparents, so it was really nice to be able to go home. Even though I was there for less than 48 hours. When I talked to my grandma on the phone and told her I would be home on Sunday, she sounded really excited. My mom and aunt were really excited too. I feel bad for what I did to all of the employees at My Pie, but...it was really really good to see my family. And that alone made it worth it.

It was a relaxing day and a half of lounging by the pool, lounging in the living room, and lounging about in other places as well. With a little bit of shopping with Mom and drinking with Brother. My biggest regret isn't quitting my work. It's that Summer is halfway over almost and this was the first time I really got to just relax.