Jess Dangles, Brokedown Palace, Double Feature, and Roadside Assistance

It's funny. I know of nobody else in the world who complains more than Jess Dangles and me. Nobody. "It's too hot. It's too cold. This food is too salty. I don't want to hang out with people. I don't want to eat there. That's too expensive. It's going to be boring. It's going to be loud."

Yet, for being so hyper-critical of absolutely EVERYTHING, we always find a way to take the most mundane, some might even say boring, situations and have a blast with them. Case in point, we never went out when she was here last weekend. We stayed in both nights and still had a wonderful time playing games and drinking by the pool. Sure, there was the small mishap of everyone going to see Demon Baby and me neglecting to inform them that the theatre had no air conditioning, but all was forgiven once Jess got back into down to normal body temperature. We also had good times at the beach despite the nightmare of parking, and even on Sunday night all it took was a cheap restaurant with decent beer and pizza (and a bug on the plate [according to the bus boy it was a piece of bread. Shut the fuck up, bus boy]) for Zach, Jess and me to have an amazing, hilarious, LOLing good time. The reason for this is simple, I think. We hate complications and inconvenience. We love easy and accessible. We like being loud and saying inappropriate things and relishing in the fact that we have absolutely horrible social demeanor. If it's ridiculous...say it. If it's offensive...say it louder. If it makes absolutely no sense even to you and you are the one forming the words...(i.e. "Bay you see that ChitownBurbank native at Vawns by way of LAX go get some Starbucks and a frapp because he's by way of LAX and needs a soft serve even though its totes brr?")...perfect.

In other news -oh, and I apologize now. This is a long post- I am going to China in April of 2009. I am very, very close to being able to afford a ticket, and then I have 9 more months to save up spending money. I've always wanted to go to Shanghai and if I don't do it while one of my best friends is living there, I doubt I ever will. This has been in the works for a while, but a combination of my desire to expand my horizons for the sake of my writing and that Where The Hell is Matt video that everyone is posting (but I won't post it here in a transparent and blatant but ultimately inconsequential attempt to appear non-conformist) made me think that now is the time in my life where I need to be exploring and learning and creating and having fun and making memories. (See: I'm just nervous that my desk job and 40+ hour work weeks are going to suck the soul out of me). What's funny about the impending China trip is how AGAINST the entire idea my mother is. She isn't just frowning upon it. She is hopping mad. She does NOT want me going to China. Why? Brokedown Palace. The movie with Claire Danes. She saw it on Lifetime. Nevermind the fact that Claire and Kate get busted in THAILAND. Nevermind that it's a MOVIE. Nevermind she saw it on LIFETIME. If I go to China I will be set up by foreign druglords and doomed to spend the rest of my life in an unruly third world prison. It's inevitable.

Unfortunately, Demon Baby was not voted on last week. I am not sad, nor do I dwell on it because I know that the audience enjoyed it and we did really well, so I will conclude that I am proud of myself and leave it at that. Plus, I was asked to come back and be in someone else's piece. It wasn't a big part, but it's cool to get noticed and meet new people and perform in something that someone else has created...as opposed to improv which you make up as you go, and a piece that you write and direct yourself. On top of that, my Improv class has our graduation show on Saturday...so I got to be on stage twice. Good thing Jess wasn't here this weekend because I wouldn't have seen her at all on that day. She would have murdered me. That's not even hyperbole. She would have. Triple digit temperatures get her acting all shades of crazy.

I got twenty bucks last Thursday. When I was getting off the 101 in Studio City, the car in front of me came to a stop and put on their hazards. Out hopped a tiny little red-haired lady, waving her hands and shouting out "No gas! Go around!" So I obliged and pulled into the next lane. My windows were down and she asked for a ride to the gas station. Now...yes. I know. Picking up a stranger on the side of the freeway is a terrible, terrible thing to do. It is also EXACTLY the sort of thing I would do with no hesitation or consideration. In my defense, she was petite, well-dressed, and drove a nice car. She wasn't a crazy. She could have been a high-powered Hollywood executive! Well, she wasn't...but she did work in casting and she was very nice and appreciative. I took her to the Chevron, let her fill up one of those red plastic things, then took her back to her car. She gave me twenty bucks, which I politely refused, but only because that is what is customary when offered money, even when you know you the person offering will not except your refusal and you still want said money very badly. It was my good deed for the day. And a good story to tell. Too bad she didn't rape me. That would have been an even better story.

Family Planning

I was at CVS yesterday...this is neither here nor there...but I always laugh when I see the "Family Planning" section. Condoms are kind of the opposite of family planning, aren't they? I don't think college kids run into CVS at 3am on a Friday after too many margaritas so they can "plan a family" in the backseat of their LaBaron. I don't think that call girls always keep contraceptives in their purses at all times because they know that they have a family to plan that night when some John shows up to meet her at the Days Inn on Ventura. It should be called "NOT Family Planning." Or even better..."Planning NO Family." Family Planning is registering at Babys-R-Us and having your cousins throw a shower for you. Not picking up Trojans on your way home from work because your ex is visiting. No product associated with family planning should bear the words "for her pleasure."

Driving along the freeway, a plastic Home Depot bag hit my mirror. It stated there for 7 miles.

I never knew...

top chef chicago

My new baseless fear

I keep my cell phone turned off all day and on the far side of my desk. And only keep it in my pocket or near my body when necessary. I also try not to talk on it as frequently, and use speaker phone when at all possible. No radiation here!

It's Monday

I don't feel like being clever.
I don't feel like being deep.
I don't feel like much of anything.

Instead, here are some pictures of funny looking goats.

Going back to work was a little harder than usual this week. First, I had a great time at home and didn't want to leave my family. Then, I had a great time in Chicago and didn't want to leave my friends. Jeff and I spent most of the afternoon in the South Loop. We went around Columbia's campus, we ate at the Panera at the UCC (And by the way...Epic Burger? WTF. And I'm not even going to touch the fact that the US Army has opened a recruitment center at the base of a college residence hall that is 99% lazy art students), then we walked around Millennium Park, which is nicer than I remember. I haven't seen the bean since it first opened. Met with Twigger, Baggy, Maggie, Annie, and Marisol and had Noodles in the Pot (Those who suggest that I cared more about where I ate then which friends I saw in Chicago...may be right).

Tuesday I got up at 6am, Maggie drove me to the airport. I flew to LA. Got back home, changed my clothes, and went right to work. It was a rough day. Not only was I exhausted, but my company hired a new SVP of Development and I assist him now too. Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy and really knows what he's doing and is incredibly nice, but it's just awkward to spend six months answering to one person, then have a brand new guy come in and tell you what to do as well. I'm just not wired for subordinance. He seems cool, though. I like him. However, I am going to have a little chat at work tomorrow about my job. I'm getting paid the same was when I was a PA. I haven't been a PA for six months. I am now not only an assistant, but an assistant to two. I should be compensated appropriately. I'm not being an ungrateful bitch about it, I just want to get what I deserve.

Lastly, here is a picture of the newest roommate, Greg.

I got him on Amazon with a gift card.

Instamatic Fun

Effectively destroying my desire to return to Chicago.

Thus far

Let's go back to a week ago.

Saturday, May 31st - Los Angeles, CA. Pick up Ashley from the airport. Drive to San Diego with Mike.

Sunday, June 1st- San Diego, CA. Run 26.2 miles after raising $5,275 to fight blood cancers.

Monday, June 2nd- Anaheim, CA. Disneyland.

Tuesday, June 3rd- Chicago, IL. Dinner with Bay. Fall asleep before midnight.

Wednesday, June 4th- Novi, MI. Miss my bus to Detroit, take the train. Meet my aunt's new puppy and go out for Chinese. Watch the Red Wings win the Stanley Cup. Smile because they win it my first day back to Michigan. Jet lag finally sets in. Can't fall asleep before 3am.

Thursday, June 5th- Novi, MI. Speak to my aunt's fifth grade class about writing and working in television. Struggle to figure out what is appropriate to talk to young children about. Sense of relief when they tell me their favorite TV shows include Bones, CSI, and one about America's most violent serial killers. Most questions start with either "Have you met..." or contain the words "How much money does _____ make?" Try to instill in the youth of America that writing is not boring, but important and fun, and can take you places. Meet Millie for lunch. She brings her baby cousin Jacob. I am awkward at first around the youngster, but warm up quickly. Go to Novi High School to see a few old teachers. Reminisce. Out to dinner at Sizzling Sticks, one of my favorite places to go when I am home.

Friday, June 6th- Novi/Detroit, MI. Speak to my old high school teacher Ms McKaig's Dramatic Literature class. High school students are more attentive than fifth graders. I breath a sigh of relief. Answer more questions that begin with "Have you met..." or contain the words "How much money does ______ make?" Worry more about making the students laugh than giving good advice or information, but, by luck, manage to inadvertently slip out advice and information along the way. Say goodbye to McKaig, remember high school fondly and note to myself that I would enjoy speaking to students next time I return as well. Seeing old pictures of me in school plays renews my passion to perform, and gets me excited for the (at least) two opportunities that I have to be on stage this month for improv and sketch, my two favorites. Take a long nap. Jet lag still has me in its throngs. Play on my computer. Lie to family and say I am doing stuff for work when I am not at all. I have stuff to do for work, but that is what Tuesday's flight is for. Try to go in the pool. Too cold. Realize it is my only opportunity to go in the pool while I am home. Get in anyway. Go to Tigers game with my brother, sister, and brother's fiance. We lose. I have fun regardless. There are fireworks. We stay. On the way to the car, I pull out my camera to take a picture of the Hockeytown Cafe. Before I turn my camera on, I feel a drop of rain. Before I am able to take a picture of the Hockeytown Cafe, a torrential down poor. Before we make it to the car, we are soaking wet. I secretly smile as rain whips at my face and every person around me runs and screams in chaos. We don't get enough storms in LA and I am happy to be caught in one. Come home, put a french bread pizza in the oven. Fall asleep before it is done.

This time around

No pictures of the run yet. Unlike the Disney half, I did not take a camera with me. That turned out to be a good thing since by mile 22 even my chapstick felt like it was waying me down, so ditching the digicam was a wise decision. Ashley took polaroids, and my sister got a picture, so those in addition to the official race photos should be fine. No Donald Duck this time.

The run itself? Wow. Wowowowow. For about two days prior I had pretty much no opinion on the matter. I just wanted it all to be over and done with. The apathy stayed with me until early sunday morning (4 am to be exact, and with no sleep at all because my randomly assigned roommate snored so loud I thought he was running a lawnmower while playing the trumpet and giving birth to a hyena) when it changed to nervousness. Not even nervousness about finishing the marathon. Nervous that I wouldn't get to pee before it started because the bathroom lines were so long. Good advice for future runners, if you don't pee before the race wait until mile 7 or later, the first rest stops always have awful long lines. In fact, fuck the lines. that's what I did. Pee in the bushes. Girls, this applies to you too. I've seen it.

After nervousness, it was (finally) pride. A great deal of it. Swelling. I though I was going to cry at the starting line. I then thought I was going to cry crossing the finish line. I DID start to cry (kind of. Barely, but for more of an emotional draw I will exaggerate slightly) when I got my medal. I thought of all the training, the fundraising, the hard work, losing my social life for four months, the people affected by blood cancers that I was running this for, the friends and family that came to see me, and my two grandfathers that had passed away but no doubt saw me finish the race, and I couldn't help it. It was emotional. Plus I had just run a marathon so I was borderline inane at that point. On a more cheerful note, there were a lot of Elvis impersonaters running.

Went to Disneyland with my family and Ashley yesterday, now I am heading to chicago for a day before spending a week in Michigan. My body would prefer more rest the three days following an endurance event, but can't nothing hold me down.

I walk like an old man and it takes me about seven minutes to get down a flight of stairs. Totally worth it.