Today I ate a bunch of beef wellington, hung out with the family babies, got sick on chocolate, wore the world's most hideous denim skirt, watched "ten things I hate about you", stood over a car engine for ten minutes to avoid interacting with todd's family and participated in a humiliating easter egg hunt in which the youngest participants were in high school and the oldest participants were me.

feel: yummy
wear: black shirt, smoky jeans. (I'm such a fuckin rock star.)
eat: grape nuts
lip gloss: strawberry
enjoy: Adam and Amy are in town until tuesday.
loathe: the traditions of the polish and the bland foods that accompany them.
wish: the irish half of the family would step the fuck up.
watch: justice league
write: this is pretty much it.

Ok, I'll post it here too, for fun since my google post hasn't shown up yet. but it might spoil part of the show. But not really.
Ok, so for part of the show a person in the audience has to move so that Kevin can sit down. Last night, that person was me. A stagehand came up to me before the show and told me I was in a "special seat" and I will have to move so that Kevin can do a sketch from the audience. Awesome, I'm totally psyched--I'm fired up for "my part" in the kids in the hall show. The time comes, I move out of the way, and I'm taken to a corner where I can't really see what's going on, and my boyfriend gets to sit next to Kevin fuckin MacDonald. I get minorly miffed. mainly because you get awesome seats at a kids in the hall show because you want your **** ********. I'm over it quickly. I return to my seat, the show kicks motherfucking ass.

at the end, they do an encore, ******* ******. Then they say thanks, and Mark, my delicious Mark throws three tshirts into the audience. He points directly at me and says "you" then tosses the shirt at me. The asshole in front of me grabs it out of my hands. He points at me again, "you" he said to him "her" he throws again and asshole grabs it and gives it to his girlfriend. He throws the last one and the guy caught it but gave it to me. Oh, I don't even care. It wasn't even about the tshirt. I gave it to sarah. He knew I was in the tiniest bit inconvenienced, hardly, it was actually cool to let a kid have my seat. I was honored for fuck's sake. But he tossed me shirt because he is awesome like that. So that's my story.

bloody beautiful.
::swoon::

(My kids thing is posted on the newsgroup. Yes, I have a problem with listing sketches and stuff, I'm a purist, I make no apologies for it. Bella did a great review, said it better than I could have anyway, so check her out.)

So last night after the show one of my best friends sat me down for the "you need to lose more weight" talk. I'm wondering if she tells asthmatics they need to breathe better, or diabetics they need to start producing their own insulin. It hurt my feelings a little because I can tell it's something she and her boyfriend talk about. She also said, " I can totally tell you're trying, you've lost weight since I saw you last." Which i have, but by then it was just, 'you're right, i'm a hideous creature and I'll never make it as an actor.' I love her, and she's one of those people who really believes in me, it's just the "We think you're great, but . . . ." part that bothers me. That's right, I said 'but part'.

And only the weaker of my articles made it onto the website this week. bah. at least I got the day off.

"I can't hear you, son, I'm wearing a jacuzzi suit!"

Mark. I loves him. I loves him so much my arms don't work. i loves him so much my legs don't work. I loves him so much . . . .I'm just so so happy.

So, I just got turned on by a contractor's telephone voice.
Raise your hand if "ew".

he says:
did you find brown socks?
Sarah says:
yes.
Sarah says:
i found some brown socks, i don't know if these are the ones you meant.
he says:
do they match each other?
Sarah says:
yup.
Sarah says:
it's good to know we haven't lost the magic.

My brother made me a copy of The Strokes CD without me asking him. That was cool. I asked for The Lemonheads and The Ramones and The Dropkick Murphys on top of it. I am a brat.

I am suddenly, violently depressed. There is absolutely every reason in the world for me to be drunk on life. I'm going out to dinner (101 Bistro- swankaaay), I'm seeing the Kids in the motherfuckingHall, I'm hanging out with Jack and Dave. All my favourite things.
Stupid girl-heart. I'm jealous of the people who aren't me who get to spend all day with the people I love. I'm jealous of the people who have all day off. I'm in the mood to randomly break up with my boyfriend. pwah, pwah, pwah.

This morning before I left I had to put fresh batteries in my cd player. I pulled the dead ones out and tossed them. I went into a pocket in my bag and pulled out four dead batteries, and two more from my coat pocket and tossed them. I grabbed a four pack of fresh ones and stuffed them in my bag. It was positively cinematic. You had to be there.

I spent a few hours with my parents last night. It is very weird to relate to my parents now that we're all grown up. When my mom and I are together, our voices reach a pitch only dogs can hear. I never noticed how perky she is. One time when I was a little kid she was giving me a bath and I said, "hey mom, did you know one of your legs is smaller than the other?" And she said, "Yeah, honey, I know. I have cerebral palsy, that happens. See, this side of the body doesn't work so much."
"whozawhazit?????"
I'm amazed sometimes by the way extraordinary can be ordinary.

I'm eating pretzels, but all I want is the salt. I have to somehow magically produce money for my acting class tonight. I keep drawing on my savings and its driving me nuts*. yar.
My stomach is yicky like it was last Saturday, which leads me to believe I'm allergic to Marlboro blacks. It's a good thing I don't smoke.


(*a pirate walks into a bar with a steering wheel hanging out of his fly. The bartender says, "what's that steering wheel doing hanging out of your fly?" and the pirate says, "I don't know, but it's driving me nuts." yar.)

I am awake, but not awake. Alone, but someone is at the foot of my bed counting change off the table. He slides each coin into an open hand. He shakes it. "Get out of my house." I say it calmly. I open my eyes to daylight, but I can't read the clock. I try to look over the comforter not wanting to see anything. I try make a throaty scream. Tiny sneakered feet tap down the hallway to my open bedroom door. They pause, and tap away again. I close my eyes and grab at the edge of the bed to try to throw myself out of it. I heave three times hard. I open my eyes and I haven't moved. This time it's different, there's more than one of them and they're having a conversation, getting ready for the day. Tap, tap, tap towards my door. Tap, tap, tap away. She talks to her mother. I roll over twice. I check my progress. I am in the same place. Someone is rolling dimes down the hallway. If I could just throw myself out of bed I could wake up, if I could wake up it would be over, but I can't throw myself out of bed because I'm asleep, but if I could throw myself out of bed I could wake up . . . . A shoe slides across the floor. A dime hits a wall and bounces. "Let's introduce ourselves." I hear footsteps coming towards my bedroom door, the floorboards creak with them. They displace the air around them as they stand in the doorway. I stare deep into my cartoon sheets and pretend it isn't happening.

I dream again, about pants that won't iron right. I go to a movie barefoot with my hair in a towel. Tom Green is there. I wake up and I can roll over. I can read the clock. I can see the ceiling. I can hear the space heater breathing and beyond that, silence.

I have 'Modern Love' stuck in my head.
I have an appointment for my demo. I still have to figure out who gets the honor of taking my headshots. I am going to be so broke.

So, I guess until I'm inspired it'll have to be 4 random thoughts on love. Well, three random thoughts and one inappropriate piece of advice from my mom. on love.

I'm going to name him 'awesome dude'.

No cohesive thoughts to report. I started an article last night called "ten random thoughts on love". I only got to number four.


Email me a thought of love. Or, not-love. I need inspiration. I need love.

I burned my friggin finger. Stupid ramen.

None of the captions are remotely funny. Just check the picture.

The other day I actually said, "I get it. . . he's a sponge . . . "
I still need the square pants explained to me.

feel: anxious
eat: envelope glue
wear: wool/corduroy
static charge: maximum
sore: abdominals
stuck in head: Matthew Sweet- "Girlfriend"
planned: dinner and a psychic with krissy
actual: workout again, watch boston public, forget to tape kith on open mike.

A french whore!!! That's what I meant to say before, a french whore.
What?
French whores get felt up a lot. I imagine.
(hey, if I had a picture of Jocelyn, I'd have used it.)

I finally made a contact for a new voice-over demo reel. It's going to be so freaking expensive. If I do 2 jobs I'll make the money back.
Let's see if I can do two jobs.

le sigh. You know how you don't want some thing, and then your teacher tells you that you have to audition for it, and then suddenly you want it more than anything else and you realize you've been denying that you wanted it all along because you're afraid you will fail?
I hate that.

I think a cute boy just called me a righteous babe. Thanks, I think.

Final Draft doesn't recognize the words "asshole", "email", or "roleplaying".

yeah!

there's so much about that that I love. and he has crackers.

feel: achy
wear: pajamas
coffee can't go wrong with hazelnut
eat: corned beef hash.
didn't: upchuck
surprised: very
work: on something
or: not
bruise: enormous
blogging: too much

I kind of want to go watch Kumonosu jo but I also kind of want to stare at the computer screen too. hm. quandry. Todd got a part in _Moon Over Buffalo_, he gets to make out with the same girl he made out with in _Hamlet_. In fact, she helped cast the show. Interesting.

You know what else was a bad I-dear? this top. I got felt up more than . . . .well . . . .somebody who gets felt up a lot.

So the hardy boys party was a bad I-dear. I am ill. Maybe the intro to tanqueray (sp?) and tonics was a little early in my sodden career, maybe it was the goose liver pate. I have a nice buzz, but am extremely ill. I took a lovely shower to sober up, and I feel ok except for the quease. It has to be the pate. As soon as I hit the pillow I will want to vomit.

In other news, I blew about $15 on an ounce of skin lotion and I'll be damned if it doesn't kick 'bath and body works' sorry ass. Aveeno skin brightener. Highly recommended. smells like awesome.

Ha haaaaaaa- tonight I got "please stop sending my wife pictures of michael rosenbaum." He was kind-of kidding.

love junkie.

who's got an edward j. stevens thing going on?

I am a hardcore love junkie.

Apparently, I smell like sweet baby cookies.

Someday green martians will read my blog, come to my house, and set my lawn on fire for going around in "green face."

We *are* soulmates.

I'm quite amazed by her, too

I missed a good time, I can't wait for Monday. What am I saying? I can't wait for THURSDAY.
Less self-pity, more butterscotch milkshake.

feel: warm and yummy
eat: peanut m&ms
drink: hazelnut coffee
work: one screenplay at a time
wear: dirty jeans, white v-neck (remind me not to bend over)
watch: Princess Mononoke (and it sounds goddamn good out of that new receiver)
listen:portishead-live at the roseland
perfecting: Beth Gibbons impression.
lip gloss: overpriced overpink underpretty
later: Hardy Boys cast party
new favorite joke: a little song I made up that I like to call "Rock Around the Military Clock".
I think I'm getting better at:this.

Last night I needed some medicating. I'm really ashamed to admit this, but Todd took me to see . . . ah gyad. . . . you're going to make me say it aren't you?


Sorority Boys.

You know what? Like, seriously, it was funny. Harland Williams kicks my ass.

I felt a lot better after that. I needed to just turn off my brain and watch drunk guys use dildos as projectiles. (my referrals are going to kick ass. bring it on google.) Not for nothing, my crush on this guy is not arbitrary. It's not going to make sense and no one's going to care because it's me saying it, but he was really the best part of the movie. He was really funny, and he's a great actor.
Well, shit. It was better than Monkeybone.
I feel better about yesterday. You still owe me a hug.
(Todd just bought a mother's *ass* THX receiver, he keeps finding new features and letting out evil guffaws.)

I had an audition today for _Moon Over Buffalo_. What a bizarre experience.
1. It was at this lady's house, in her indoor pool area.
2. I was reading with the lady's boyfriend, who is playing the part he was reading. Whoo boy.
3. The part I read was for a fawning ingenue and I am . . . not the ingenue type. I'm strong, and I can play a lot of stuff, but I'm just this side of femme fatale. Let's face it, I'm bootylicious. They laughed at me, and then they basically told me to turn down the sarcasm. heh heh. whoops.

feel: sleepy/weepy
eat: nothing
wear: the jeans that I can slide off without unbuttoning, the blue shirt (bailey's doesn't stain, holla.)
listen: bnl- rock spectacle
lip gloss: clear, flavorless
current crush:the usual
planned: see my favourite people.
actual: staring into the big empty.
lying in bed: just like Brian Wilson did.
1# referer:samaurai speakers

You'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.

My leg is sore. I guess I kicked over some guys luggage on my way back into the terminal. That was wholly unnecessary.
So yeah, I was on my way to see the kids in the hall, about to board the bus, it was ten feet away from me, and I got rejected for not having proper ID.
There's nothing quite like pushing your way through a crowded bus terminal sobbing uncontrollably. The funniest part is, no one seemed to bat an eye. You know me, I'm a sight to behold.

My face has that weird weepy feeling. I guess it's from having all your ducts drained.

The word poop makes me sad, because my mom rarely got upset when we were kids, but when she did she'd say "oh, poop." instead of "well, shit." So disappointed, like she was about to cry. She would put so much emotion into it. This is now making me laugh.

(btw, I have nothing to do with this train wreck.)

The bus station sucks, everyone is mean and no one knows how lines work. But they're right, I really should have had a passport.

I have no time today, but if youhaven't peeked since yesterday, there's a lot to read. also, new funniness today, i think he publishes at 2.

1. my brezny horoscope:you are homesick for wild knowing.

2. As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

4. hilarious.

sorry about the long-ass post. I'm in a listy mood today.

Surveylicious, courtesy of gleebs
Name: Sarah
Nickname(s): sarie barie
Age: 27
Age you feel: much younger
3 words to describe you: location, location, location
3 words to describe how you look: sweet, awkwardly buxom.
What's your most traumatic childhood experience?: my parent's car was stolen and my car seat was in it. that as close as you're getting. too close, back away.
Have you ever been in love?: always, always in love.
Are you, like, bi?: not actively.
Who gives you butterflies?: Mr. Overkill Jones
Do you believe in totally platonic friendship with a member of the preferred sex(es)?: no, whether you act on it or not.
Who's your big secret crush?: Elizabeth Hurley
Give us a hot sex tip?: tell him what you want or do it yourself. in fact, just do it yourself, it's faster.

FAVOURITE
Quote?: your flirt finds me out/teases the crack in me/ smittens me with hope. -possibly/maybe, Bjork
we are far too young and clever/and I hope that's true forever. dex'y midnight runners
song(s): Waitin' for superman, the flaming lips, girlfriend matthew sweet, sex machine and make it funky james brown
Advice?: Open, open, open up and let it hit you. (Changed my life.)
all your favorite movies?: The Professional, Seven Chances, The Color Purple, Star Wars Trilogy, The Prince of Darkness
Activity to do with other people?: make funny
Activity to do anytime?: make up jokes to tell myself
Favourite favourite?: testosterone
Name for a band?: The Moisture Farm
Dog name: Das Puppenschpiel, Yojimbo, Jedi
Website?: boing boing
Writer?: Toni Morrison, David Sedaris
Place to hang out?: Founding Fathers. You've never been there.
favorite shade of red: pink
favorite shade of orange: sheer
favorite shade of yellow: absent
favorite shade of green: lime
favorite shade of blue: navy
favorite shade of violet: lavendar
favorite Simpsons character: Cletus
favorite X-Files character: i dunno, fluke? how old is this survey?
favorite type of meat: chicken
favorite veggie: portabello baby. are mushrooms vegetables? they're in that part of the store. . .
favorite fruit: sour berries

You are Carl Sandburg
You see the world in a different way than your peers and are able to find beauty in the most unusual places!


Take the Which Poet are You? Quiz - brought to you out of boredom and pretention!

In my head I am adapting Twelfth night for the screen as a campy romantic comedy. Can I reasonably pull off being mistaken for a guy?
Last night I was completely distracted imagining myself as the girl with purple hair in the descent. That book mostly sucked, but I had fun casting her anonymous demon sex partner.
I love how I read a book and become obsessed with it.
I love how I see something good and can't get enough of it. I have no portion control. Anything that gives me a moment of joy becomes embarassingly all-consuming ad nauseum.

listening to: bjork, james brown
inexplicably smitten with:harland williams.
lip gloss: strawberry kiwi
sleep: eight hours exactly
wearing: phat khakis, sweaty sweater
hair: been worse
now hurting: my ass
now hurting my ass: pilates
now eating: chewy bread from balthazaar
now raining: outside
today's dream job: daily show writer
today's actual job: watching white-out dry.
words of wisdom: "this is my robobaby, her name is cutie-milk. when she is old enough for solid foods i will call her cutie-pie."- mik, age 7

what's going on? nuthin' funny.

I don't know who this is, but I fear we may be soulmates.

by the way: no bagels, just crackers.

I have to start wishing harder.

You mean, it's not like that for everybody?
That's freaky. I thought the flavor thing
was unique and awesome, but I thought seeing letters and words as colors was normal. golly. I had no idea I was different. (Idea is white black green and red). My life isn't a bursting rainbow, most of it's grey-blue, brown, black, white, red and yellow.
. . . . .ok, that's a lot of color.

I like ph words, they're pink/blue.

I sure am some kind of freak show. point and laugh.

We were doing shots on saturday and I did one called a "nutty irishman" which not only tasted crappy but found it's way down the front of my favorite baby blue shirt. A bold frontal stripe, like a representation of my windpipe in taupe. I went into the bathroom and switched my top around so it was on my back. Inventive!

Today I found out my boss is going to raffle off a bunch of ani tickets. Between that, the rock climbing wall in the conference room and the empty wine glasses in the dishwasher, you'd think this is coolest place in the world to work.

girls kick ass.
link courtesy of boing boing.

I'm closing my eyes and I'm wishing for bagels. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Test Results

You think of yourself as being springy, fresh, unique, and hopeful.

Others think of you as being a survivor, self sufficient, oddball, and surprising.

Your relationships can be described as warm, relaxing, indulgent, and sensual.

When stressed, you feel hungry.

Take this test here.

*always* hungry.

There's a banner in front of the Walgreens on Elmwood that says "show you're nuts for the buffalo destroyers".
Why couldn't they have misspelled you're? Everybody else does.

It's still funny if you say it out loud.

I'm not the kind of person to get mad at people who are thinner than I am, because I don't think it's fair to judge people based on their size but. . . . .
Well, shit.
It's also not fair to promote the idea that absolute scrawniness is the norm, leavnig the rest of us to hate ourselves. People magazine has a feature this week on fashion, and in it they have a size 10 mom showing fashions for the real woman. Really. People magazine, (whose business is People) considers a size 10 Middle America Overweight. A size ten is dangerously close to single digits, I say, quit bragging. What the hell does it matter what size she is anyway? I didn�t read the article, but I�m wondering what size the person writing it must have been for the fact that she was a ten (!) to be a main focus. Why is that part of the article description? �A Size 10 Mom tries out fashions for the real woman�. While all these actors try on fashions for the god-like alien creatures who roam the earth but for a brief time out of pity and charity for those who love them.
friggity.

i'm leading a colourful fantasy life, but a girl needs real change to truly satisfy. I get like this every eight to twelve months. I need to quit my job or move again or something. I'm sure it says something about my personality and my ability to cope with day to day life that I can't be in a stable environment for more than a year. I'm not as well adjusted as I seem.
Actually , I think it's just proof that I'm wasting my life, bending it around a boyfriend and living within other people's perceptions of what my life should be about. It's no one's fault but mine. If I change nothing, I waste my potential. If I change anything, everybody gets hurt. Maybe I just think the world would fall apart if I move, or quit my job, or do something drastic. I guess you never know until you try. I strive for comfort, and when I get it I freak out.
It's hard, and part of it is that I live with a guy who hasn't stopped working in two years, and hasn't audtioned for a single friggin thing he's done. He got a phone call last night to be in a show, while i sit on the floor and do sit ups and work on a monologue that will be met with deafening silence.
(I'm not giving myself credit. I am a good actor, people just don't know me well enough to cast me. They, like me, hate strangers. less self-pity, more butterscotch milkshakes.)

a search engine referral lead me to my archives. Someone was searching for "Shrek Madlibs". I had no idea I blogged about either of those things, but I guess I did. Man, that sure brought me back . . . . to January.
Apparently you get my site when you want to know how much Beyonce weighs.
Well, I don't know.

Now the Open Mike trip is all up in the air. I created the word "friggity" in honor of the situation.

I needed a change.

New template.

I need more.

Tonight I went on an exercise binge. I hate exercising because I'm never *done*. I've never accomplished anything. After two hours I look in the mirror and I look the damn same. I made the new year's resolution to do it everyday, then maybe after a year I will be in shape. I've kept up pretty well, you'd figure three months into it I could look at myself and say "damn". and mean it.


If anybody needs me I'll be in the fridge.

I love pictures where i look fat and shiny. Point at me and laugh. My hoots be kickin' tho. word.

Not that my brother reads this, but, nice new layout.
and, where the fuck were you sunday morning?
way to brunch, buddy.

Our company just got a postcard advertsing office furniture and Tracey was on the front of it, laying across our address, pointing at the company name. She turns up in the oddest places.

I just saw Buffalo 66. Although I did have fun playing the "what street is that?" game, I will have nightmares about Vincent Gallo. Nightmares about the two of us. . . spanning time.

They call me Patty O'Furniture.

Another SETI unit completed. I feel like I've accomplished so much.

I don't want to go downstairs and help the landlady clean strawberries.
I don't want to go see a play tonight.
I want to be lazy, is that so wrong?
I can't think of anything funny to say right now. My newest joke insults Clint Eastwood and involves information you would need to have about Jenny Jones's career before she had a talk show in order for it to be funny. I'm in a moral dilemma. I think I'll just scrap it.



(huh huh, huh huh . . . . i said 'unit'.)

Upstairs I can hear them discussing gall bladder surgery. Tasty.

Oh my goodness, that homemade ritalin is kicking in.

Let's see, ephedra + caffienne + sudaphed =

um. . . . i know this one. . . .it's so hard to think with this shooting pain in my left arm . . . .

whoo, doggie.

why am i always last? it's because I'm a girl, isn't it?

guy at work: it looks shitty outside, like it's going to rain.

me: I love this weather, I don't know why.

guy: Because you're creepy?

everything i touch goes wrongwrongwrong.

hey guess what? I got that day off.

and there was much rejoicing.

I am very much looking forward to tomorrow's new DHKA, aren't you? By next week we will be at dhka.com, and it will look all official and beautiful. Nelson (of the tattoo controversy, if you've been following along) will be doing the layout, and i will be offending the Irish.

check it out, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease. oh, bu'pleeeeeease.

In other news, I'm going to a live taping of thiswith her to see all friggin five of them.

delicious.

i mean, delicious.

whoops, I mean delicious.

I have decided that having crushes on boys is a legitimate hobby. I'm not horny, I'm a "hobbyist".

"thief!"
"sonambulist, ok?"
"adopted!"
"I wish."

I told a guy at work that he was a demanding nightmare, and then he took an extra long lunch break. To weep, I think yes.

Somebody at the office drinks red wine on the job. I know this for a fact. That is either very European or very sad.

I'm thrilled, can i say that? as much as i hate myself and I'm ugly and blah blah blah- My monolouges are really starting to feel good. I've got this new energy, i can't wait to audition this summer. My Viola is so close to where she needs to be already, mainly because I love her, but . . . bah. I don't know, I just love acting so much more than I did before.

I'm not saving the universe or curing cancer but it's the only thing I can do and it's the only thing worth doing.

I can't understand why i don't read this everday. funny lady.

I'm pretty sure I'm allergic to this sweater.

::lip quivering::
Where are my archives?

Next time a stranger tries to talk to me, I'm going to consider him for a moment and say, "I expected you to be taller."

I have been dieting so hardcore that I have officially made myself afraid of eating. That is very dumb. I'm trying to slim down in time for auditions, in time for new pictures which i am putting off until i can slim down some more. The problem is, it isn't even working. This is so stupid. In other news, I'm moving to LA next spring. Kind of like how i was supposed to move to New York in two months, but without the terrorist attacking and the roomate non-vitation.

I actually think Kristin would love to have me stay with her, even though she freaked out when I moved out last time. She cracked a joke about it last time we were out, which should be a good sign. I said, "can I live with you when you move to LA?" and she said, "sure-as long as you don't move out and stick us with the rent like you did last time!! HAA!!" ha, indeed. That hurt deep, considering I paid the rent and bills for two months after I moved in to the new place, and the lease was month to month so i could have taken off anytime i wanted. Look at that, I'm still arguing. I have issues.

I've got to stop.

hold me.

I have this recurring dream that i live in an amazing house with many many rooms, complicated hallways, doors that lead to secret passageways, and there's always a great party going on.
The house is always completely different.
I love these dreams so much.

Ok, so i just looked up what it means on a more specific site, and it means that i've given up my passions in life for my obligations to "home" and "family". well, that's depressing.

A kid just got kicked out of a play at canisius for telling a jewish cast member "he and his family were going to burn in hell for killing jesus". That is so far out of my realm of experience, I can't believe there are people in the world who actually feel that way. As an American, you can feel however you want to feel, but why *that* way?

Oh , blogger, you silly monkey.

I so very much can't wait for march 28th.


I am laughing very hard at the fact that 80% of the people who look at my page are looking for information on "yoplait whips". I can't believe how much one post can bite you in the ass.

Oh my lord, I am indulging myself at the smallville messageboard, and i just got my ass kicked twice. Some of them are so nice, and some are so vengeful. I'm not used to being the target of usenetish abuse. I am accustomed to cracking bad jokes and being ignored entirely, which is how I prefer it.

um, publish?

placeholder

note to self: when you can't do or say anything right, implicating yourself
in a scandal in order to "clear the air" may not be the best idea. Yeah,
keep that in mind for next time.

"next time" is the most passive aggressive phrase in the english language.
a long, labored "uuuuuuuhhhhhhhmmmmm", followed by a false-nice high pitched
"NEXT time . . . . ." followed by "could you do this instead of that because
we've all been talking about how much that in particular pisses us off."

And you know what else?
Don't ever take a bite of something and then dial a phone. The telephone
should come with those specific instructions.
I don't believe there is a single circumstance in which you have to eat and
make a phone call at the exact same time. If you can't wait five minutes to
make that phone call, you can wait five minutes to eat that phat sangwich.
If you gotta eat, do so, and call me later. Bitch, I will hang up on
you. I've done it before.

will you go to prom with my mullet?

I've come to the conclusion that everything that happened yesterday started with me. It was my fault everything was so confusing and fucked up. Now even Todd is pissed off at me. I can't say or do anything right today. I didn't get up in time to take a shower, and i underestimated how warm this sweater was going to make me.

I sent an email to the producer, taking responsibility and telling him the confusion started with me. He'll be pissed at me too, but I'd rather this than let people speculate about how much of a bitch I am without taking any credit.

your flirt finds me out
teases the crack in me
smittens me with hope.

Ethel Merman.
Ethel Mer . . man oh man.
Ethel Mer- Menstruation.
Ethel Mer-Macaronni and Cheese.
Ethel Merman.
Ethel Mer Mandingo.
Ethel Mer Men at work
Ethel Mer-Man you look great in that dress.
Ethel Merman.

The ad on this page is the most annoying thing ever.

Wow. Yesterday was. . . .confusing.

Last week at our last show our Director decided to make us come back one more painful time to audio record our little play. Now, before we get into why that was a dumb idea, let's just lay out the reality: he wanted to audio record a live performance of radio plays, which you can listen to already from a multitude of sources, IN ITS ORIGINAL, BETTER-SOUNDING OLDE-TIMEY FORMAT. anyway.
He makes us do this, go to a place that has closed, try to convince our friends to come out to the show one more time so there's a laugh track. (we won't get into why that's funny.) Everybody's pissed, but prepared.
He calls ME Sunday morning to ask me,
"what's going on."
"can you be more specific?"
"what's going on with the show?"
"What?"
"did you talk to [the producer]?"
"yeah, last night. We did a bunch of irish car bombs and the bartender spilled a vodka cranberry on my good jeans-"
"well, what did he say?"
Wtf?
"can you be more specific, asshole?"
He called me to tell me he didn't want to do the show, and to call the producer for him and talk to him about it and call him back. Phone calls are made and missed, and half the cast gets the idea (understandably) that the show is cancelled. Half the cast is left out of the discussion, and shows up at the empty theatre with TEN FRIENDS to wait in the cold for an hour and a half.
Now all of this could have been avoided if asshole director would have called the producer himself, instead of using me as a go between and calling only select members of the cast hoping we'd all figure it out somehow. So, it was all fucked up, and it's my fault. sorry about that. and all that cancer. i was on a roll.

On the upside, the star wars trailer *owned* and Firestarter: Rekindled was the funniest movie I've ever seen.

Yesterday began at 66 degrees, sweet breezy spring. I went to a meeting with the short film guy. some good people are involved, but there's also a total tool shack on board along with some people I haven't met but still don't trust. It'll be good. It'll be a huge pain in the ass, but then again, so is every project I've ever done. We had to leave early to see my niece sing for her church choir. She didn't know the words to "joyful, joyful", so she just moved her mouth during the verses. It was the very cutest thing ever.
"everybody let's jump for joy!"
Then dinner at todd's mommy's house. while we were there we watched the creeping flesh and the temperature dropped THIRTY DEGREES. It was summer in the afternoon, and when the sun went down it friggin snowed, hard, and the wind got up to 40 or 50 miles an hour. blargh. I saw my acting coach's play in spite of the shitty weather and it was. . . .well, absurd. Then much drinking and missing of jon stewart on snl ensued.

I feel so self destructive right now. I'm out of control. I hate this.
I'm glad I'm at home.
Am i the only one who does this? this is so fucking embarassing.


Anything horrifying on the internet that results is not my fault, and I'm pre-emptively sorry.

we're going to a graduation party for alex.
graduation = canisius held his diploma ransom until he could pay for his last two semesters, which he just did, four years later.
party = drinking at founding fathers, sacreligious consumption of red white and bleu burgers.

we're going to party like it's 1998!!

read Letters from a Nut. ees funny.

wanna know what's awesome?
I do.
1. It's like, 60 degrees outside today.
2 this
3. I have the new rolling stone in my bag.
4. except for the loss of appetite, shakiness and dry mouth, i feel much better.

I just realized I refer to myself as "cool" in this article.
::snort::

Not as good as last week. I wrote it in a half hour under the influence of many robi-quil-histamine-lynol-type substances.

I've been told I'm quite attractive . . . .

that last post is very humbling. I'm trying to remember if i took the nyquil before or after i decided to share that. i don't care how mature i can act, i get the feeling i'll always be 12 years old inside.
bah.

Ive been mandated to stay home today. I can't believe how crappy i feel. i don't want to be here all by myself all diz-amn diz-ay. i hate calling in sick.

I am sick. I'm full-on loopy and drained. I'm mainlining enchinacea and spinach surprise (parmesan! bread crumbs! surprise!) It's damn good and it's the first thing I've eaten today.

This is entertaining. I started reading the smallville messageboard today, and it turns out they're all convinced that Michael Rosenbaum (the guy who plays lex luthor) was posting and being friendly with them. I registered because they were doing star wars trivia (because if there are two things I'm good at, it's star wars trivia and posting on messageboards). So I got a little swept up in it, because the guy comes off as pretty convincing, but then around the 41st page you can tell he was just jerking everybody around. I'm ashamed to admit, even I got a little excited, considering I was crushing on the guy hardcore. Now, I'm not so much with the boy-liking. The shine is off the apple. I's not the guys fault, but the buzz has been killed. I hate when that happens. mmm-spinach.

If you want to see me embarassing myself, my screenname is "coelacanthine".
(both "skyfish" and "coelacanth" were taken. How the fuck does a 14 year old on the wb messageboard know what a coelacanth is?) (What the fuck IS a coelacanth?)

bjork kicks ass.

so, after sunday no more audio theatre for us. whatever, we were starting to get bitchy with each other anyway. we going to try to take it to ski lodges for "mud season". how oddly appropriate.
saturday i have a meeting with a guy about a short film. he hasn't written it yet. it should be cool though. he's actually a guy who 1) seems to have capitol 2) is into the technical, and not megalomaniacal about the artistic (ie- writerdirectorleadactor because no one else understands his vision) 3) emotionally stable. that my friends, is key.

would any of you mind making a list of things i have in common with viola from 12th night? other than we both like boy clothes? I'll do your math homework.

i have nothing to talk about today, yet i feel i should still update. many thanks to kitana for reading my first foray into webhumour. many thanks to the people who keep looking up "yoplait whips" and getting my yogurtastic site. i'd like to thank the cafe on the corner for their portabello mushroom sandwich. I thank the snow for giving me something to look at.
Most of all, I want to thank whoever it was made baby bears so dern cute.

I'm all out of sorts today. My hair is wet and i have a general queasiess and head coldy-ness. I asked for hot peppers on my pizza last night, i think that may have caused a problem. Instead of the light green yum yum pepperoccinni that i normally get, they actually put dark red and dark green jalapenos on it. Good sweet lord. It shouldn't hurt to eat.

here it finally is. my column is the third one, and you have to read this and the page after before what i have to say makes any sense.
or not, it kind of stands on it's own for the most part. there's a lot of smart, funny shit on that page from dave and todd and alex. It is set up kind of awkwardly, but i think dave is a genius for finding a way to fit it all on to the space he has. seriously, alex's column about Atlantis is one of the funniest things that i've ever had to read twice.
and please tell somebody about it. not because i told you to, but because you love me.

you love me don't you?

ok, i lied again.
It looks like he hasn't published yet. Basically, I'm going to be writing weekly articles for him, so if he ever publishes you can read my hilarious take on something hilarious.
and also, I get paid in beer.

ok, i lied.
posts today.

my pages views have decreased to almost nothing. i should start having giveaways. "look at my page, get a free kermit totebag!"

accchh.

no posts today.
why don't you check out the new dhka?
actually, i'm told it won't be posted until after 2pm. so, that's something to look forward to.

(we decided last night that baked lays taste like salty communion wafers.
mmmmmm . . . . sacrilicious.)