sing...until your lungs give out

I hate the new Fall Out Boy song. I swear, I do. But for some reason that defies all laws of science, I find myself turning it up and singing along when I'm driving to Studio City with my windows down every morning. It's a terrible, terrible song, though. I do realize that. But...I just can't help it. This ain't a sceeeeeeeene.

I'm really enjoying myself out here. A lot. I know that a lot of that has to do with the fact that it's barely been a week and I'm still in the honeymoon phase, and that soon the novelty of going to class at CBS Studios will wear off and I'll start to miss Chicago and everyone back there. And I'll of course find ways to make myself miserable like always. I have friends out here, which is good. I saw Rob last night, and I'm friends with the neighbors and with a bunch of people from class, but I just don't see myself meeting another group like the gang back in Chicago. Don't cry for me, though. I'm having the time of my life.

Through some sort of combination of my desire to always be busy and my paranoia that I am spending too much money, I have started the process of getting a job. Disney is too far from where I live in Burbank, but Universal Studios is right down the street, and so I have a second interview there on Monday. I could have gotten a job working a ride, but my availability didn't work out with that because of school. So instead I'm interviewing to work the front gate. I would do this until SLA is over, and then either transfer to one of the attractions or audition to be a studio tour guide. I'll most likely pursue the tour guide option. Since I have to have an internship to graduate, and most internships don't pay, it's probably wise for me to get a job. I loved working the turnstiles at Disney so I think I might enjoy this.

I still don't have an internship lined up, but I still have a month. I'm not all that concerned about finding one, since I've already been in contact with several people, and the only reason that nothing has worked out is because I'm not available until the end of March and they all need people now.

I think I'm finally coming to the realization that I am indeed laying the foundation to build a life out here. Maybe not forever, but for a while. Not much of a surprise, though. We all knew deep down that I wasn't coming back to Chicago.

The married couple is super nice, if not slightly awkward still. They offer me dinner a lot, which is nice, and the guy showed me around while the girl showed me how to work the TiVo in case I wanted to watch every episode of American Idol ever aired (I HAVE always wanted to see Fantasia Barrino take home the gold...). I've only seen the detective twice, which is a bummer because they say he has really good stories to tell and I'm interested in hearing them, but he is home for about fifteen minutes twice a week and that's it. No Dani, he doesn't wear a detective coat. But he does wear suspenders. I think it's a rule that detectives wear suspenders. I think it's so that their pants don't fall down and interfere with a crime scene.

In a few weeks I'm going to a big Museum of Radio & Television Panel with the cast and crew of Jericho. So now I'm catching up on every episode so far so that I have at least a slight idea of what's going on. Jericho wasn't my first choice, but The Office, Heroes, Dexter, Nip/Tuck, and The Simpsons were sold out already. I may show up for the Heroes one next week and see if I can get a standby ticket, if only to see how plastic Hayden Panitierre looks in real life.

I'm also going to the taping of a pilot. I read the script of it and I can tell you with a fairly decent amount of certainty that you will never see this show on the air because it's not funny at all. Molly Shannon is in it, though. But does that really mean anything anymore?