Thursday, December 16, 2010

What Would Don Draper Do?

When you work in downtown Santa Barbara and live at the Northernmost tip of Goleta, there's a chance you are in your car a good deal. And when you are in your car a good deal, there's a chance that you listen to the radio a lot. And when you listen to the radio a lot, there's a chance you are able to recite line for line nearly every commercial on the air. Most of the time I am rolling my eyes at the local ones, because honestly, did you have to find the shyest person in the world to do a voiceover? I know she's your granddaughter, but she sounds positively scared to tell you that pumpkin pies at Andersen's bakery are only 12 dollars. Either I'm going to start up my own voiceover practice or an ad agency catering to local companies. Maggie, come with me.

Don Draper is really the inspiration for this. I'm a self-proclaimed Idea Person. I think up stuff, I just normally can't execute it very well. That's for the smart people. Who else would have thought of "Make 2000 a Millenium Bash with Caitlin and Angela for President and Vice President?" Ok, I was 12 at the time, but I swear it was our slogans and peppy speech that helped us win. Or Mrs. Manning thought we'd be the least trouble. The latter was probably it, but we still rocked it. And we were trouble, so suck it you evil woman.

Junior high traumas aside, the more I watch Mad Men the more I start breaking down all ads, radio or otherwise. For the bad ones, I picture Peggy and the douchebag art guy pitching it to Don and getting ripped a new one for the shoddy work. I know, it's incredibly weird, but I'm not alone. Mags and I already discussed this. In fact, there is a great ad for a crappy beer on the radio that I have to marvel at it's genius. It's for Coors Lite, and the song goes along to the theme for the NFL. I think it's for the NFL. Some kind of sports game. It goes like this:
We know a guy
(His name is Steve)
He reached for a beer
(he thought was cold)
But it turned out to be warm!

He should have got Coors Lite
Cold Activated Cans
It tells you when it's cold
So you will always know

The end is probably wrong, but the song gets your attention. And that's not just why it's brilliant. It advertises something that is incredibly unnecessary and totally useless. You know how I know when a beer can is cold? When I touch it. Unless you were born deprived of a fifth sense, you don't need a mood ring for your beer. But when you listen to the commercial, you rejoice in the fact that someone has finally found a way to help you out just a little bit more in your life. Bravo, Coors.

And I know there is a lot that goes into advertising, and I know that I have no experience in the field, and I know that I was inspired by a character on tv who is not real, but I think I could be of some assistance to the locals who are in need of some guidance and some way to capture the Barbarians attentions. Hire me.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

What I'm Thankful For

As I sit in a house that's not mine, trying to find a place to put my purse so it isn't in the way but always ends up being in the way, feeling useless because I want to help but  don't want to get yelled at if I mess up the said helping, watching a football game on tv that I could care less about, all the while hoping someone switches the channel and happens upon The Incredibles playing on Disney, there is one thing on my mind that makes it all worthwhile:
Stuffing.
Beautiful, glorious stuffing. I really don't see why people nicknamed Thanksgiving Turkey Day when it's really all about the stuffing. Stuffing Day would be so much more appropriate. And it is a day where we indeed eat to the max, thereby "stuffing" our bodies, if you will, so it works both ways. I don't think I've ever met someone who did not say, "Yeah, turkey's ok, but what I really love is the stuffing." It's the number one desirable on the dinner table. It's the first leftover to disappear, if there is any to save. Nobody is saving a spot on their plate for cranberry sauce. It really makes my day go round. Even after the plates are cleared, and people start claiming patches of carpet to nap on, I'm thinking about 2nd dinner and the stuffing i will again pile on my plate in a few hours. I feel so bad for the souls who have ever suffered from bad stuffing. God knows I've heard horror stories. Bad ones. And the worst? Some fancy Aunt/Uncle decides that watching food network makes them a real chef and makes some gourmet stuffing with pecans or some other shit in it. Thankfully, that has never happened to me, and I'm pretty sure I will riot if someone substituted Old Faithful for "Stuffing Pizza." It's exactly as it sounds.

For some reason, this is the only day I eat stuffing (Friday after Thanksgiving excluded). I know stores sell it, but I feel just a little ridiculous and lot like a stoner if I sought out stuffing on regular days. I know there's no rule, but there is a guideline, and it's probably in my best interest to follow that guideline. And just like the McRib*, maybe stuffing is all the rage and then some because you only get it once a year. Unless you have it on Christmas too. Which I still don't get. Why turkey on both holidays that are a month apart? Branch out a little more, Whiteys.

So on this upcoming Thanksgiving Day, enjoy your stuffing. You earned it. And add an extra scoop for me. For reals. If you cannot finish it, which is highly doubtful because, come on, it's stuffing, pack it up and send it my way.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

*This in no way condones the consumption of McRib sandwiches. I'm looking at you, Maggie Clarke.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

SmorgasBORED of thoughts.

Well, I'm bored as usual at work, and I decided to have that work for me and pick up my playwriting/screenwriting/any kind of theatrical writing because let's face it, it's fate that I am sitting in front of a computer all day with a lot of time on my hands. The universe is begging me to write. One tiny problem: I have writer's block. OF COURSE. I have it in all aspects of my life, including this blog that was started in order to amuse you and myself; well mainly just me and maybe my bored co-worker, and just the teensiest bit for resume purposes in case an online magazine is looking for a blogger specializing in rants and television. Thankfully, I can now write about writer's block so I guess I don't have it anymore but once I'm done with this post I will have to go back to simultaneously writing and deleting which has unwittingly turned into my new favorite past time.

And now I'm stuck again. I swear I had more on the subject but it left my brain. Now all I can think about is how Undercovers has been cancelled and I'm not too surprised because it wasn't anything out of the ordinary but I'm also sad because that means Ben Schwartz is out of a job but that also makes me happy because it wasn't a good role for him. Yes I did have coffee today why do you ask? Is it my lack of a structured sentence? Grammar can suck it right now cause I'm just going with the flow. Back to the show: I never gave you a review of it because I really didn't want to. The whole show was just about married spies who have to learn how to work together as a team in a new way. And NBC wondered why it wasn't attracting a young audience.

Back to writing. I have a lot of things swirling around in my little head that always sound good until I put them to paper. Right now I have three plots about a girl my age who isn't doing anything with her life. Whomever said to draw from your own experiences should have followed up with "if your experiences are exciting." Naturally those plots are on the back burner. And by back burner I mean saved and probably not revisited until I have to clear some space on my flash drive. I admire all you real writers out there. You can probably think of a beginning, middle, and end off the top of your head. I'm still stuck on the beginning.

I'm over this. McLafferty Out.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Halloweentown 2.

Song Stuck in Head: Fernando-Abba

I hope everyone had a good Halloween. I actually had plans for the first time in years, which sounds really sad but I don't lie about how boring my life is. That would be unfair the older me whenever she wants to reminisce about what a self righteous smart ass she was. Good times.
My friend Jessica discovered a 70's Soul dance party at SoHo on Saturday night. We all attempted to dress as 70's as we could. I say attempted mainly because I couldn't find anything that I liked/ fit me until the very last minute, and even then it was eh. Turns out it was not strictly 70's dress up, it was any costume, but oh well. They didn't turn us away. I made some makeshift bell bottoms an hour before I met up with my friends a.k.a. I pinned the fabric to my jeans. They hurt whenever they caught on my skin, but I got used to it. I had a Led Zeppelin vintage shirt for my top; I guess I was trying to go as a female Hyde from That 70's Show. Jess braided a band for my head, which helped tie my look down to a specific era. I like going to SoHo, mainly because I was one of the younger ones there. Everyone else was definitely 15 years my senior, and it's nice not having to crawl amongst the stupid 21 year olds that populate the other bars I seldom visit. And not to brag, but we were easily the best dancers there. i don't know if you lose skills as you age, or maybe it was the demographic (white, middle aged, heavy drinkers), but it wasn't hard to do. I couldn't seem to make out most of the costumes, but there was a guy who was dressed like the alien guy in Avatar whose name I would know if I saw that movie (suck it, James Cameron), and when he wore the full mask he looked super creepy. PLUS, we saw a big group of people do the thriller dance. Yeah/

I actually succeeded at my pumpkin carving adventure this year. Every time I attempt to do a somewhat intricate design it turns into a huge hole. In honor of my blind, not so cute dog Snuffles, I carved a Boston Terrier. If she could have seen it, I'd say she'd approve, then bark at me to get her a treat. Stupid dog. Johnny Boy did a tribute to Conan which looked awesome, and you'll have to take my word for it because I don't have the pictures uploaded yet. My hands, fingers, and arms hurt today, and even though I immediately assumed it to be early onset arthritis, common sense kicked in when I went over my previous day. Pumpkin carving is hard work, yo.

I also made my Dad's chili. Well, it's not his creation, but it's the one he made every Halloween for us and it is amazing and one of the few foods he could make better than my mom. That and meatloaf. It's ok, she's aware of it. I have extra if anyone in the Santa Barbara area wants some. Seriously. It can serve a small army.


High point of my day: Customers did not make me want to shove a pencil into my forehead. Success!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

We so Crazy

I've heard it before. The same question, always asked with the same tone and inflection, usually a mixture of curiosity and exasperation with a hint of indignation, and a male is always the one inquiring.
You might know what I'm about to write. Us ladies have heard it many times in our life.
"Why are women so crazy?"

It's the question of the millennium. For males, that is. It feels like that's the first question they'd probably ask God when they die, only to be met by a hopeless shrug and an apology from the big guy.

But I know the answer. All women do. We only fight you because we are embarrassed to admit that we do have a whole bunch of crazy up in here, and the reason is even more appalling. The answer?

Men. It's always men. And not even men who are worth it. But why do women allow themselves to fall apart because of them? I don't know, the jury is still out on it. It must be something primal, but I'm no scientist, don't quote me on that. And I wouldn't have ever admitted it until I saw this story on Yahoo. Yes, that's where I get my news. Stop your judgment. The story was about a woman was just sentenced to 30 years in prison for tampering with another woman's parachute, causing her to fall to her death. Els Clottemans was a schoolteacher and an avid skydiver, which sounds like a cool gig, so why did she throw it all away?
It was all for a man. The deceased woman was apparently dating the same guy as Clottemans. Funnily enough, they're both named Els. Weird, but not the point. How much easier would it have been to break up with him? So much easier! And it would involve a lot less jail time. But the crazy doesn't help you think things out very well. It doesn't help at all.
It's why we see girls starting fights in clubs over some douchebag with bottle service. It's why some friendships are permanently ended. It's why girls are much better Facebook stalkers than guys. It's why we drive by boyfriends/crushes houses all the time for no reason at all...apparently....so I've been told. Why did Juliet kill herself when she awakes to find Romeo dead? Cra.zi.ness. Literally. I know that's fiction, but I know a lot of girls have fashioned their heartbroken suicides after that play. Fo' reals. I read about it once.

I know it's not just women who do this, but it's a pretty big majority. As one of the saner ones, I'd like to tell all the others out there to stop making us look so bad. It's not fun. We've come so far ladies! Are we really going to throw all our credibility out the window for some guy? Listen to me: Check yourself before you wreck yourself. It's for the good of our people. I know, it's not our fault. None of us are immune to the crazy. But keep an eye on it. It hurts more than it helps.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

5-6-7-8!

So this weekend I tried Zumba for the very first time. "What's Zumba?" anyone under the age of 40 and/or not living in LA might ask. Good question. I'm not entirely sure myself, but it is a whole bunch of fast dances all mixed together to get you to sweat your soul out of your body while also being able to make you look completely ridiculous. Bonus! It is pretty fun, once you get over the fact that the moves can only be mastered by professionals. My friend and I got there a few minutes late and tried to hang out in the back, but the over-60 crowd dominated that area, too afraid to move up, so we made our way to the middle and literally, I mean literally, started shaking our asses. I don't know if the instructor had explained the warm up to everyone, but she gave no warning as she moved from exercise to exercise. I felt like Liz Lemon in a season 1 episode where Jenna drags her to a exercise class where everyone knows what they're doing except for her. Memory not as good as mine? Well, I'll show you. I searched high and low for it, and I couldn't get it alone, but it's in this here video. Enjoy. I'm at work, so I didn't watch it with sound, I hope there's not some weird song playing over it.



LOVE. IT. That was me at the beginning of class. Later on she explained the moves, and most weren't too hard to follow, but I definitely danced like a drunk white man at a wedding. Thankfully, everyone around me was flailing as well.
Will I go again? Definitely. Will other people laugh at me? Probably. But I'm used to that. Just another routine day for Angela...I need to go.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

La cita delle ristoranti

Hello, my name is Angela, and I have an addiction to Facebook games.
(That's where you all say Hi, Angela. Or if we were in RENT we would sing to each other. In a perfect world...)

That felt good. Not really. It's sick. I need to stop, but I can't, not until I win. Want to know the kicker? You never win. Ever. It keeps going on and on and on and you're helpless to it's power. Apparently the games' only weakness is a healthy social life, and that is why I continue to spend my evenings at the computer, cleaning my restaurant and feeding my pet, Roscoe. It's horrible.

I used to scoff at these games, ignore all the invites my friends sent me, and just check my facebook only 10 times a day. I don't even know how I happened upon Restaurant City or Petville. I do know that I was overjoyed to discover that my co-workers had pets and we could all be neighbors. Then it all went downhill, and I believe at one moment I had 5 games I had to look after, each one more pointless than the next.

I blamed work. I mean, it's not very demanding. IMPORTANT? YES OF COURSE IT IS WHERE ELSE WOULD PEOPLE GO FOR QUALITY ENTERTAINMENT IN THE BEST LIVE VENUE IN SANTA BARBARA? (You never know who's reading this thing) I thought that if I had games to take up my day, the hours would pass. Yet they slow down the computer, take forever to load, and I can't even access Petville from my computer here. Did I quit then? No, of course not. Then I wouldn't be writing about this right now. Jesus, keep up people.

Even now as my avatar wanders down the street of abandoned restaurants, looking for coins or ingredients, I still keep it up. It's not like I'm enjoying this. I cringe when I hear the start up music, so why do I persistently check in every two hours? Sure, we have rehab for meth addicts, but what about facebook games? Where's my Loser's Anonymous?

I could just stop playing? Yeah, I suppose I can do that. It sounds weird, but I could try it. I might have to write out goodbye notes to all my friends who still play, but since it's really just my sister and two people whom I suspect are only participating in it to humor me, it won't be a long list.

Don't worry about me. I'll heal in time. I'm anxiously awaiting the release of Boy Meets World on Netflix. That'll keep me occupied for a while, so, that's not too bad. Maybe I'll take up needlepoint or baking. Either one will be perfect practice for when I become a cat lady. I mean, when I'm rich, famous, successful and living in a mansion overlooking the ocean while sending my security team to take care of the papparazzi hiding behind my guest house. It will literally be a house. Not a one room thing.

Friday, October 8, 2010

What's Souplantation without any spoons?

So a few years ago, I started a game with my college roommate, Polly. It was called "Let's see what cutlery we can steal from Cheesecake Factory." It was more of a competition than a necessity. When we explained it to friends, some people would look at us with concern in their eyes, and offer us their extra silverware, if we were really that hard up. They just didn't get it. It was for funsies. I was really bored, too. Sometimes, the game would expand to the dining hall, mainly with fruit.. The next year, I let my roommates in on the game, only to discover that my new roommate, Maggie, was already an avid restaurant thief. We combined our talents and got some great silverware that year, my pride and joy being that huge steak knife from Outback. I never saw this as wrong, per say. I mean, I knew waiters would probably look down at it, maybe even stop us if they saw it going on, but for the most part, it was silverware. They probably lose more in the trash then they do with people stealing it. Plus, I have a thing against chain restaurants. They have millions of locations across the world, and a lot of sexual harassment or unfair work environment lawsuits to look after, so I doubt that they were ever concerned about the loss of forks from their Irvine chain.
I highly encourage this game to you out there, just don't get caught. Because it would be the stupidest thing to get caught stealing. Seriously.

I have since ceased my game, mainly because my mom would probably question why we have mismatched silverware in our drawers, and also because I don't go out to eat a lot anymore, and when I do, it's a local place. I draw the line at local establishments. Plus, my wonderful little sister told my parents about it, and it was like I robbed a bank. They were horrified by it, and my dad said I was a sociopath because I didn't feel any remorse. From stealing silverware. Because that's where sociopaths start. With forks. If I had killed someone, maybe I'd agree with him, but I did not.

But where's the line drawn? Was it wrong for me to give my friends free drinks when they would visit me at work? Or save my ice tea cups so I only have to pay .65 cents instead of 2.35 when I go to the bean? Or take the stupid dress code poster on my last day? I think not. I'd like to think that I have a good moral code when it comes to other things. I'm like the wimpy version of Robin Hood. But I think on a list of travesties, mine would not even be on there. I'm not just saying that to make myself feel better, it's true. I mean, people steal dogs just so they can collect the reward. That's pretty low. Or those scammers that targeted the families of 9/11 victims? REALLY? I know that was a long jump from abducting pets, it still pisses me off. I always measure my wrongdoings by how guilty I feel. That wouldn't fly with a priest, but I think it's a good rule of thumb. If you feel guilty, you're probably doing something bad.  Unless you're a sociopath, of course.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Let's get serious here

This heat is causing me severe writer's block. Therefore, I must write about what I love and know best:
Me.
Lucky you two people who read this out of obligation dire necessity.

It all started on what I presume to be a glorious day in 1986. No, that's too much. I'm saving my life story for an autobiography if when I become famous. Or for my 30's when I finally agree to see a shrink.
Hmm..

I abuse the word "hate." In actuality, I don't hate everything. I'm usually mildy annoyed or in great dislike of people, things, and trends but I tend to bottle up my grousing until one day I can't take it anymore and it pours out of me and drowns everything like a flash flood in Pakistan (too soon?). I should say it gives way like a Chilean mine. They're still trapped? Wow, that was insensitive. (Guess who's been reading Yahoo news kids?) But for realsies, I truly only hate 2 people and they're for very good reasons. Yes, I don't like a lot of people, but there are only two I wouldn't mind getting hit by a bus. Well, I would, but I wouldn't feel too bad. Unless they did get hit by a bus, then I'd feel like I jinxed them. I wouldn't want to live with that. I do tend to start cold wars in my head with people I've never talked to. Right now they pertain to the bitch in the Lexus that cut me off when I was in the turn lane on Fairview who also goes to the same gym that I do and the creepy older guy with stringy hair who also goes to my gym who Bogart's a machine I need to use in my workout for half an hour PLUS he steals the weights I need to use for another exercise to act as a stand for his portable fan! I'm 50% sure they're aware of their enemy status. They'll catch on soon.

My sister Francesca and I have invented a good number of games we play. For pinky swear clauses I can't tell you a number of them, but some of our most successful (and appropriate) could possibly become Olympic sports. All I'm saying is if you see a category for Inflatable Ottoman Ball in 2024, don't say I didn't tell you so.

I swear to God I thought up the Hannah Montana idea first. I was 9 at the time and didn't think to cash in. Of course, I would've played the secret pop star and it would have been a much better show, but I guess we'll never know.

My best friends call me Angry Eyes. It's pretty self-explanatory.

My favorite class in college was Clowning. If you laughed at that, then you should not be my friend. No you still can, you just obviously don't know me or college drama classes. my roommate senior year said she wanted to take Clowning as an "easy class" and I almost went off on her. First of all, it was for drama majors only, and just because you get to make people laugh all day does not mean it's easy. Some people just don't get it.

Some people would call me a cynic, but I prefer realist. Particularly with romance.  I believe everyone out there has someone, but they don't always meet that person at the perfect time. Sometimes you meet them when you're five, sometimes when you're 20, sometimes not until you're 60. And I'm ok with that. I think everyone expects to meet that person when they are in their mid 20's, get married and have kids by the time they're 30 something. It doesn't always go as you plan. I'm not saying you won't find someone and get married, they just might not be the right person. Right? Well, that's what I think.

I'm very stubborn, but I always remember what my mom said to me one day: "You have the right to change your opinion whenever you want." And sometimes it's hard to do that, but just because you hate something one day doesn't mean you have to continue hating it for the rest of your life. Don't even say "Like biking?" My opinion has not swayed. We'll see if the circumstances change in a few years. Cheeky bastards.

I think the worst thing someone could say to me (besides "I wish your family would die a horrible death") is that I'm nice. It's bad because they mean it in a good way, so you can't get angry with them, but when I hear "nice" I hear "boring." I know it's not what they mean, but it kind of is. That's what I mean when I use it. You can't think of anything else but you don't dislike them, so you say they're nice. I know that I'm not super thrilling, but I'm not boring. I'm definitely not nice. Nice people don't ignore bums on the street when they ask for change. Nice people don't laugh when they see someone fall. Nice people don't judge someone because they still have a myspace. That's all I'm saying.

I don't enjoy chocolate as much as other women do. I know, the Cathy comic is wrong! I don't hate it or anything, it's just not a weakness of mine. But put some sour candy in front of me, and a few minutes later the only thing left will be my tears from the loss of my tooth enamel. Sure I can't eat anything remotely sweet or inhale through my mouth for a few days, but it's worth it. Well, not really, but regret never stops me. If my Nemesis just read that, please ignore. I was just trying to throw you off the course. I have no weaknesses! HA! To my non-foes, that is a hint if you ever feel a need to buy me candy.

I could write more but I sense your interest dwindling.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Yes I am aware of how much of a loser I am, you don't need to keep reminding me

So my favorite season has arrived. No, not fall, even though it is, but it's not the point I'm trying to make.

IT'S THE FALL SEASON LINE-UP!
I'm probably just as excited, if not more for this than football fans and all those games that dominate the tv on whatever night it's on. I can never remember.

I was happy to see my shows back in action, even though they pushed Parks and Recreation to mid season (we'll get into an angry rant about that later) but I wasn't so excited for any new shows. Nothing really grabbed my interest in that special way 30 Rock or Modern Family did for me. But I won't discriminate against anything (no, I will, who are we kidding?) just yet. Sometimes it takes a while for shows to really get into a good groove, so the first few episodes are a little rocky.
There is one show that I missed on Monday is called The Event (ominous, right?), and the more commercials they have trying to make you tune in, the less I want to see it. It's supposed to be something big and mysterious, very LOST like or Flash Forward (RIP ol' buddy) but I sense desperation in their promos. All last night I kept hearing "the world wants to know: what happened to the plane? THE EVENT, Mondays, on NBC." First of all, I was on the computer, so that's why I heard it, not saw it, but it didn't make me want to raise my eyes from Restaurant City CNN.com. I'm sorry NBC, I know I have no experience in marketing, but it's not working. Let the word on the street draw you in. You're welcome. Hire me?

Anyways, Glee started off on a good note. Get it? Because there's singing. Thankfully, the writer's must have received my passive aggressive emails about the quality of last season's writing and tightened up their jokes so the dialogue was actually bearable. I didn't really write those emails, but I prayed someone did. The season looks promising, even though they did sing "Billionaire" and I hate that song. I want to punch the singer of the song, so frickin' bad. Sing that to the original melody. You'll get it. Jane Lynch was on fire, as usual, and I don't know if they actually work really hard to perfect her lines or she just looks at the script and improvise's whatever the hell she feels like as long as it makes sense with the plot. Who knows? My money's on Jane.

Modern Family was AMAZING. I did worry for it this summer. It had so much buzz, it won multiple Emmy's, and the first season was unbelievable, and I was afraid that it had exhausted all the characters and take a turn for the just plain silly, but thankfully, it did not. I usually measure my love for a show by how often I laugh out loud when I'm watching it alone (it's harder than it sounds). Modern Family? Manic laughter status. It's creepy. Just ask my family. I just love every character on there. It's hard to have a favorite.

30 Rock was a little eh last season, and my interest, though loyal, was dwindling. They were nearing the sitcom point of making every character turn into a caricature by using the same quirks to keep the jokes coming. Usually that spirals into a character no one can relate to and it's just not funny. Think about every character from the last few seasons of Will and Grace. But I enjoyed last night's opener, it earned a rewind-and-repeat for a few moments (you know when you're laughing so hard you missed the follow up from the funny line? Plus you want to hear the line again and truly appreciate it. Just me?). Kenneth better come back. Thas all I'm sayin'.

Now for the rant:
Last year a little show called Parks and Recreation started it's second season. It's first season started mid-mid season. That's never a good sign. But you know what else started mid-mid season? The Office. And you know what? I didn't like it at all. But I still watched. The same went with Parks. Another fact about both shows: They were created by the same people. Greg Daniels and Mike Schur. Little known fact: I made their coffee for them every day last year while they were writing season two. I'd like to think it helped with their inspiration. Anywho, just like The Office, Parks grew into something completely different then what it started out with. I don't know what happens, but it just becomes really good during the second season. Anyways, it's one of my favorite shows now, so you know what that means? NBC can sense my happiness, and decides to crush it. Like a bug. They moved it to mid season, and  put on a lovely little show called Outsourced. Excuse me, it's hard to sense written sarcasm. It's not lovely at all. It's a terrible show. It's not so funny as it is racist, and it's obviously written by a douche bag American. How do I know? Because he doesn't realize that Americans don't like being told that they're stupid. No one does, really, but Americans in particular. It didn't help that the only American stereotype's were Southern. it's too easy. But while I do give props to a show that doesn't star a lot of whiteys, and it was a movie or something before, so that means it was successful enough for a tv show to spring from it, it's just not going to work. And I think the network knows that, because Parks needs a place to park (get it?) and it better not get bumped to Wednesday. My schedule is just too full right now. I have Modern Family and Ghosthunters. It's just not going to work.

I will be of service to you all and check out Undercovers (my future husband Ben Schwartz is on it and even though he's not the main part, we need something to support a family with so I'll help out in the easiest way possible) and let you know whether it's worthy of your attention. I'll see what I can do for the rest. I'm kind of boycotting CBS due to their continuous renewal of Two and a Half Men, but it might not be a very strict avoidance. We'll see.

Oh, and Raising Hope? Not worth your time. Peace.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Birthday musings

As I sit upon the cusp of my day of birth on this fine fall afternoon in the two thousand and tenth year and scribe like a Dickens wannabe, I begin to think about my past and future, particularly whether or not 17-year-old me would be very pleased with how 24-year-old me turned out. Particularly my current job. I know Angela at 17 did not think her future would involve living at home and working in a box office. She thought I would be in New York living the starving artist life with a sassy gay best friend. She's an idiot, I apologize for her.

Actually, I look back on my years and I can't believe how stupid I was. But it's all in retrospect. I will probably muse about my 24-year-old stupidity in 4 years or so, but right now I think I'm pretty smart. You just never realize how much you don't know until it's too late. I mean, I still know that I don't know much, but it's the things I probably hold as important that won't seem so in a few years-oh never mind, I'm confusing myself.

Back to 17 year old me. I really shouldn't be seeking her approval. She was kind of whiny and complained a lot. Well, I complain a lot now, but I don't care about how unfair the world is anymore. I got over it.
But should I be worried about how the 21-year-old me sees me now? She had hopes and dreams and was determined to move to LA and start the horrid process of auditions until some acting or some other theater job panned out for her. She might be a little disappointed. I don't blame her. And she was kind of smart. Well...I guess it was 40% almost there.

I can't help but obsess about my past. It's a lot easier to focus on than my future. And I know that 24 is still a young age and I'll laugh at myself when I'm fifty (if i make it that far, you never know with life) but I feel old, yet I don't feel like an adult. I don't know if you ever will. Maybe the boring people out there do, but I don't want to ask them. I'll only get a long explanation that will eventually turn into something about expense reports and finances. We get it, you have a real job. Good for you. Go and buy a condominium.

I guess I'm just scared of the years passing by me before I can enjoy them. And that I'll be stuck in Santa Barbara in a job I hate except for the people (don't tell on me Genna!) forever and ever. And that I'll be too scared to do anything about it.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Another thing to add to my hate list


I'm just going to say it: I hate bicyclists.
I do, I really, really do. From the spandex wearing, super intense bikers to the recreational ones just trying to get to work downtown, I hate them. And I know that's not fair, and it's hypocritical, because I had every intention of forming a bike gang with my friends once they moved downtown, but I might just have to hold off on that.

This prejudice didn't start with me. I was susceptible to early morning grumblings and rants about bikers from my father, who was always tempted to hit the hordes on Patterson when we were driving to church. In his defense, they really shouldn't be riding in packs, making it impossible to turn right on hollister. We even started a game of how many points annoyances on the road would be if we hit them. Bikers were 150. Old ladies were 1. I learned from my papa early on that cyclists aren't to be trusted, and with good reason. Read on:
During my Saturday mornings at work the Irvine Biking Enthusisasts would descend into the Bean in a mob, rushing past us in a blur of fluorescent, and use our bathrooms, drain our free water pitcher, then take up all the patio chairs for an hour and buy absolutely nothing. They would leave their tiny wax cups near the trash, but never in it. It's hard to make a plausible case for them when they do nothing but make my life miserable. I wish I could apologize to all my neighbors for the many times I would ride my bike up and down our street. I'm sure I nearly caused a few accidents in my day. What a douchebag I was.

Much to my chagrin, the Independent reports that bicycle usage is up a tremendous amount in Santa Barbara. They wrote it as good news, I thought they were taunting me. Yes, hooray for more people abandoning their cars and finding an Eco-friendly way to commute. I really shouldn't be complaining, but, why can't you just walk? I like pedestrians. They are nice to me when I'm driving. They are afraid of getting run over, so they obey the laws within reason. I can relate with them as a former walking commuter myself, a long, long time ago.

I hate bicyclists because they get in my way when I'm driving. They ride unsteadily all over the road and don't obey traffic signs, which by the way, DO PERTAIN TO THEM AS WELL. They think because it's a bike, they can ride on the sidewalks, ride in the middle of two lanes, ride down the wrong way of the street, ride through red lights, ride through crosswalks when they don't want to wait for red lights. The list goes on and on. I don't just hate them as a driver. I hate them whenever I'm walking downtown and have to flatten myself against a wall because someone doesn't like to ride on the road. My neighbor Beverly was hit by a bicyclist(first offense), on the sidewalk (second), going the wrong way(third), and who pedaled away as fast as his oddly muscular calves could take him(we have a winner). Not cool, at all. PLUS, I recently saw a girl biking and talking on her cell phone. And not the Bluetooth. A full on flip phone. Um, ok, how is that legal? You need both hands to steer that menace around, yet you really only need one when you drive a car, but that is not allowed? Bikers are just tremendous assholes. They think since they're doing the world a favor, they are never the offenders on the road. They can yell snide things at you as they roll by and get away with it.

So I know in this world of cars and pollution, biking is a good alternative. But I feel like I should warn you that it is evil. I think whoever invented the bike sold their soul to the devil. I can't prove it yet, but I'm pretty sure. I'll wikipedia it later. To my biking friends: just please be careful on the road. Because I want to hit you. Very, very much. Or pin you between my car and the ones parked on the side of the road and squish the smug out of you. You want to do something helpful for the Earth? Bring a reusable bag to the grocery store. Stop using plastic water bottles. That does not give me the impulse to commit vehicular murder.

You have been warned.

I TOLD YOU!

Friday, September 3, 2010

"Basically, these are the basics."

       I don't mean to get all uppity, but I hold a belief that there are standards for writing, particularly journalism. I also would like to think that the youth of today aren't as dumb as their facebook status' make them out to be (I'm looking at you, Johnny Boy!). And yes, I know I'm young as well, but I feel like I age 40 years when I'm around teenagers. All they do is text and drive and play their music loud, damn it. Get off my yard.
       I am aware that no one but my family, friends and a faithful co-worker read this blog, but if there are some teenagers reading this, listen to me: we have a hard time taking you seriously. Especially when you write something. We will scrutinize the shit out of anything you produce because we expect it to suck. You may already know this, but to those who did not, shouldn't that be enough incentive to prove us wrong? I am aware that not all teens are like this. My girl Quinn Sosna-Spear is an established playwright who just graduated from high school. She has been called a prodigy by people that review her shows, and has been paid. Yeah, I know!

       The aforementioned genius aside, I stumbled upon a magazine that only helped to further prove my point. It's called Snaps Magazine, and I only discovered it because they were looking for local writers. I found an issue online, and I only had to read the table of contents before I knew this was not the magazine for me. Some of the articles included a column written under the alias "party girl," tips on how to avoid getting your "kickback" "rousted," and what the typical IV girl looks like (skanky, right?). I thought "Okay, college students who want to be heard, I get it. I grew out of that but let's see what they have to say." It soon became obvious to me that these were kids were not co-eds. A quick facebook stalk search confirmed that many of the writers were indeed babies who had just graduated this past June. I didn't need to do so, the stories glorifying parties in IV should have been sufficient proof. They didn't stop there. They also had articles on the "hidden gems" of Santa Barbara, such as Rusty's Pizza, Yogurtland, Norton's Pastrami, and Freebirds. Oh yes they did. Sorry kiddos, every local already knows about those places; people from out of town have heard of those places; Yogurtland is a chain for crying out loud!
          The clincher was the writing. I know when it's all opinion, there are little to no rules mandating what is right and what is wrong. But for God's sake, at least have an understanding of the basic rules. Like run-on sentences. Or maybe keep a thesaurus next to your computer Or just maybe keep the thesaurus website tabbed on your page so you don't keep repeating the same adjective over and over again. Or maybe you can read what you just wrote aloud and change anything that doesn't sound right. Like what? Oh, I don't know, maybe the line I used as my title: "Basically, these are the basics." Really? Please, just look at it. Mouth the words. Sound them out. Proof reading is worth the effort.
         It's not like I enjoy making fun of you. No, I do. I really, really, do. You and your Bieber haircuts and all that angst bottled up inside you. But there's a big part of me hoping that you will prove me wrong. I have done my part trying to tear down the youth stereotypes, but my time is over. I have my own 20-something stereotypes to prove wrong. Well, not right now, because I'm actually perpetuating some, but I have six more years to work on them. Leave me alone. At least I know how to write. Ooh, ya burnt!

Here's a link to see for yourself: This is your future America
Enjoy.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

A few things I learned from this past week

-Emmy "think tanks" should not turn to Twitter users for ideas. They are not comedy writers for a reason.

-I want to look like Christina Hendricks.

-My sister should not call me crazy because I laugh at everything if she's the one who broke into a gated community and into the backyard of my cousin's house when she was not at home.

-Walmart is, and will always be a horrible experience for me, no matter how "super" it is.

-Public restrooms are where you come in contact with the worst people.

-Little boys can use women's restrooms, but please, think twice about taking them into women's locker rooms, unless you want them scarred for life.

-Marie Callendar's has an intense brunch buffet.

-Netflix has turned work Saturdays into "movie Saturdays with a side of selling tickets" and I like it.

-Older people work out in the morning, hot guys work out at night

-I like going to the gym at night

-Days off should not start with getting up at 7:30

-I need to learn how to Charleston a la Pete and Trudy from Mad Men

-My mom's lost coffee cup will always be in the microwave. Always.

-My kittens are fascinated by the clock I put up in the bathroom.

-My brother likes Glee.

-You could live in an Ikea store if you had to.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

So bad, it's good



So, I am a television fiend. And I know how that sounds. Immediately you picture me in sweats lazing in front of the screen with a popcorn bowl balanced on my stomach with a slack jaw, my eyes glazed over.Well, stop it. right now. That is not what I do. I'm serious. Get it out of your head.

As someone who would indeed consider watching television a finely-crafted art form, I would like to share with you my list of bad tv that I know you watch with a fervor but would be embarrassed to admit aloud to strangers lest they think that you're mentally incompetent. It's the shows you hate to love, or ones you never knew existed, but are totally going to check them out right after I write this. You know it's true.

Glee- Yes, I do freely admit that I watch it, download the songs, and sing the songs as loud as I can, but only to my friends. I am aware that it is terribly written and feels like it has to spell things out for us (like the theme funk. "I'm in a funk" "vocal adrenaline has put us in a funk" "I'm sorry, I'm just in a funk this week." "Let's do only funk songs to get us out of this funk." really?) but I will watch the episodes over and over again. And yes, Jane lynch is awesome on there, but she can only do so much for that show. Some characters aren't well rounded, some just seem to be there to show how their acting (Tina the "Punk." She's not necessary. Mike Chang is just a dancer/overenthusiastic nodder and he serves more purpose than her)

Greek- This show is like the perfect daughter who sneaks out of the house and parties with tattooed, 30-something men who street race and are all named Vasquez. It still has to be careful about the content, but it does push the envelope for an ABC Family show. It has it's funny moments too, but only a few. The guys on the show are well-written and hilarious, the girls are annoying and kind of stupid. I don't know if that's on purpose.

My Boys- I can't help it. Give me a girl who is "one of the boys" but is trying not to be seen that way in the eyes of the guy she likes and you got me hooked. As a once little girl who used to pretend she was the only lost girl in Never Never Land it resonates with me. It has its stupid moments, mainly from the one character I hate in television (the "comedian." he's supposed to be the goofy one that makes everyone laugh but he's NEVER funny). It's funny how TBS' motto is "Very Funny" when it has a Tyler Perry show on what seems like 5 nights a week, but this one isn't so bad.* Well, not as bad as "Meet the Paynes" or whatever it's called.

Drop Dead Diva- This was a hard one for me to write, but I have to let you all know that it is out there, if you haven't accidentally discovered it by yourself. Now, you only have to see that they had Paula Abdul on as a guest star to know it's not top notch quality, but you can't tear your eyes away from it. Now, I'm not an avid watcher as I am Glee, I've only seen four episodes all the way through, but I will openly admit that if it was down to this show or the Daily Show, I'd choose the former. I know. It is nice to see a plus-sized star, even though it's a bit stereotypical (she needs Cheese Whiz to calm her down when she's stressed. Yeah, because all the fatties do that).

Covert Affairs- She's a CIA agent...who loves shoes! Not really, but that's what my siblings and I say whenever we see a commercial for it. It's that kind of premise, a tad overused in this day and age, in my personal opinion. We watch mainly to make fun of it and the awesome Russian accents that crop up here and there, but it's not horrible. I think it has something to do with Piper Perabo. She's annoyed me ever since Coyote Ugly, with that big know-it-all smile. I want to smack it off her face.

Melissa and Joey-Sabrina the Teenage Witch is all grown up, while Joey is in yet another show where he can keep his first name. It must be in his contract. This show just started, but I know where it's going to go (they fall for each other). It's not that great, but it's Sabrina and Joey! come on. I'm sure it'll be background tv while I'm stalking people on facebook writing a strongly worded email to our City Council about nature stuff.

Ghost Whisperer- There are no new episodes that I know of, but repeats are on Mondays nights on the Sci-Fi-excuse me, the Sy-Fy Channel (because that makes more sense). It's pretty brilliant, seeing as how Monday nights are normally dead. But the show is...interesting. it's just an hour of JLoveHew doing her thang as a ghost therapist. But it's not bad if you can't get enough of otherworldly stuff (like me), or if Medium isn't on (unless it's 1 am, then drop this show and head on over to lifetime)

There are more, but I could spend a lifetime on bad/good tv. Seriously, you underestimate how much I enjoy reading my thoughts on the world of entertainment. Now these shows are not to be confused with reality shows. They have to have their own categories of the good, bad, and VH1 shows. Nor are these to be thrown in the pile of bad/bad tv shows (Secret Life of the American Teenager, Two and 1/2 Men, Army Wives, remakes of Melrose place and 90210, the show where Jenna Elfman gets impregnated by a hot guy then whines about it, One Tree Hill, anything NBC puts on mid-mid season). 

Now go inside and start watching some stuff that will rot your brain. It's good for you.



*I will retract my statement once Conan starts his show. Then, and only then will I call the Super Station very funny.

Monday, August 23, 2010

I would elaborate, but it'd just get ugly

Things That I Currently Hate Which You Should Hate Too Because You Love and Support Me

1. Drivers who clean their windshields on the freeway when I'm right behind them
2. Movies that are parodying something but not very well (Date/Dance/Disaster Movies. oh and the vampire one)
3. Pageant mothers
4. Slow computers
5. My addiction to Facebook games
6. CARE-A-VANS that are incredibly slow and take up two lanes when it has to make a right turn
7. Any vans/buses/trucks that keep me from getting to work on time
8. Andy from the Real Housewives reunions
9. People who think they're funny and they're not. They're really not. (see #2 as example)
10. Customers who think I can magically change prices on tickets if they complain enough
11. Mondays
12. Tuesdays
13. Dj's who keep talking about boring stuff when all you want to do is hear a song
14. The sandals I'm currently wearing
15. The sandals I bought but broke within a month that I have yet to return
16. Spam
17. Facebook ads that think I'm a stoner
18. Facebook ads that think I'm religious
19. Facebook ads that think I'm a photographer
20. People who love their jobs

It's that kind of day. Your turn. Go.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

All in con-text. Keep reading, you'll get it soon.

I fear that we all text too much for our own good. I say this because I now have a problem calling people. I rarely call my friends; instead, I text them, even if I have no service at my house and have to wait four hours to get a response. They rarely call me; instead, they text me even when they know I'm home and never check my phone due to the lack of service. This often results in a lack of hanging out, which results in a lack of a social life. And at work last week, I was designated the task of calling a list of people that I don't know and talking with them with the intention of getting them to renew their Jazz subscription series. This caused me to have a slight panic attack, then a bigger panic attack due to the fact that I would even have a panic attack about this. I used to be so good at calling people, particularly people I didn't know. In fact, my sister used to ask me to call and make appointments for her because she was afraid of talking on the phone. Naturally, I refused, but I was flattered nonetheless. Normally, I would end up coaching/laughing at her awkward conversations. I'm such a good sister.
And last year, when I worked in that hell of a theater, I had to make up to 60 calls a day to get people to book auditions. I mean, I know that's not how it usually works "in the business," but that was quid pro quo at that place. By the end, I could easily call people, even numbers on Craigslist when I was helping my sister apartment hunt (yes, I made the calls for her then. Only a little mocking ensued).
But now, I am a stuttering mess of a girl due to unlimited texts. I even text while I'm driving. I know, big gasp from the audience, but you do it too. I'm not condoning it, I honestly do think it's way more dangerous than talking on your phone, but I still do it in order to avoid talking. It's madness I tell you.
And texting instead of calling is now highly encouraged in order to appease our bashful genration, who can't make a phone call but have no qualms about posting TMI all over facebook (example: failbooking.com). Tire companies now let you text them questions about their prices, people can help Haiti by texting, KGB will answer your random questions instantly via text plus a small fee. The world is at your fingertips, literally.

The funniest thing for me is when people say they've had a fight with someone, and as they're telling you about it, you slowly realize it's all through text messaging. But you don't know it at first, so you're sitting there, in awe of this person for calling the other one out, and amazed that they had the balls to say that to their face, because God knows you could never do that- until it hits you that they weren't even in the same room. I mean, good for you for getting that off your chest, but that's a coward's fight.
One of my roommates could never text me because all her text messages were being used to talk to guys who were too afraid to call her. Come on men, step it up. I know a text doesn't seem like you're being too forward, but it's not helping you.

But texting is there when you are unable to talk aloud, like when you're in a boring class, or at work, or when you're in church. I'm just kidding about that last one; I don't go to church. It's a good way to send a random thought to a friend. I have a lot of those, and my friends are more comfortable with my random texts then they are with my random calls. I tend to ramble when I have nothing else to say. It's also a good way to make an awkward car ride hilarious in silence. Jess, Maggie, you know what I'm talking about.

And don't get me started on facebook. I am indeed an addict, but it seems normal to you until you have to explain to your mother how you know so much about an old classmate you haven't seen since graduation.
Mom: So you talked to them through the facebook?
Me: no, we don't talk.
Mom: so how do you know so much about them?
Me: well, they have a page where they post things they've done, and I read that, but I didn't talk to them.
Mom: I thought you said you were friends.
Me: On facebook, Ma! You don't have to talk to them to be friends with them!
Mom: I still don't get it.
I don't blame her. I feel like a stalker by the time I explain it all to her again.

I'm calling for society to man up, and get over this new fear of face to face time with people, or I guess, voice to voice.God knows what will happen if we continue to have all of our interaction through a text or a social network. High school reunions would cease to exist. Hmm, that might not be such a bad thing...

Monday, August 16, 2010

The Other Woman

I feel like I always start out with a "those of you who know me" line, but here I go again. I know it's rather unnecessary, because you do know me, or you wouldn't be reading this right now.

Those of you who know me are aware that I am one gold-melting kit away from creating a shrine to Tina Fey. If only amazon had one...and if only I had actual gold to melt...details, minor, insignificant details.
Tina is the subjest of my adoration for many reasons, most of which I share with the rest of the nerd world out there. She is smart, funny, successful, and proof that you can outgrow your highschool awkwardness. But most of all, she has redefined hollywood's version of the true modern day woman.
Now, I'm aware she didn't do this all by herself, but she has definitely mastered it. Before Liz Lemon came into the scene, all we had for role models were the SATC crew. Now, I know some of you ladies out there can't get enough of Carrie, but come on, is that who you really want to become? I'll admit, I have seen a few seasons, but instead of wanting to be like those ladies, I only felt depressed. If I did ever turn into one of them, the only thing I had to look forward to is my increasing dependency on men because they have the upper hand in relationships when you start to get on in years. Oh! But they have fashion! Kill me now please. Plus, they are constantly getting hit on/going on dates/sleeping with a new man every episode. I know, it's a tv show and they have to keep it interesting, but that doesn't happen in real life. Well, it doesn't happen to me. But I am real life. Maybe a small percent of women, but real life nonetheless.

Then Liz Lemon came along. In her, we see a woman that is a bad dresser, has an awesome job, has no personal life because she puts everything into her work, is smart, not always put together, and more suburban seventh graders have had more sexual experience than her. that last part is a quote from the show, possibly my favorite. She is the Other Woman, the one who doesn't always get the handsome man and the happy ending. It was refreshing to see her come to life. Through all four seasons, she's had about 3 boyfriends. Okay, now that I'm writing this, it sounds depressing, but it's really not to me. Liz Lemon is me in 15 years, give or take. So much of what she does on the show resonates with me. Combine her with her creator, and there's my hero. She is normal. Here's a quote from her interview with Vogue in March: "I feel like I represent normalcy in some way. What are your choices today in entertainment? People either represent youth, power, or sexuality. And then there's me, carrying normalcy — me and Rachael Ray."  Despite struggling to not become typical, I've finally accepted my normal, and I can only hope that that's the worst that'll happen to me.
Tina's managed to become an icon and someone I can aspire to be. As an actress, she gives me hope that I can succeed in comedy, because it's hard to be a successful, funny woman. Some men out there believe that is an oxymoron.

Oh God, this is quickly spiraling into a feminist rant. Ok, I'll sum it up then leave you to your workday:
Tina Fey = awesome. Yeah, that's about it. And ladies you can have you SATC dreams, but I will never stop making fun of it until it stops trying to get me to "like" it on Facebook. Can we get a not interested button or something?

Thursday, August 12, 2010

to tattoo or not...to. give me some credit there.

So last night I had a dream. I won't explain all of it to you because whenever I do that it ends up sounding crazy even though it makes perfect sense to me. But all I'll say is that it involved drinking, a birthday, and back tattoos.
I was the one who recieved the back tattoos.

I have been constantly changing my views about tattoos over the past few years. At first I was against it, then I was curious, then I swore that I'd only get tribute tattoos (e.g. for someone who has died), but then realized that my skin is only getting worse from here on out, so I don't think anyone would appreciate looking at a stretched out or sagging tattoo. Plus, I change my mind all the time, so I might just grow to hate the future tattoo. Much like i did with my second ear piercings. (Did I really think I'd  have enough matching earrings to fill all four holes?)

Well, from what I remember, my dream tattoos involved a quote that I couldn't read on the upper left back, and a "Mad Luck" tattoo with a four-leaf clover underneath it on my mid-lower back on the right. Also, I think I got a name on my left rib cage, but it was small and I couldn't read it when I was looking in the dream mirror. They were nicely done, and they didn't hurt at all, but that's not the point. I remember staring into the mirror and thinking "what have I done?"
I could be grasping at straws, but I think that dream meant I shouldn't get one. Or that I really don't want one.
Maybe they're not for me. I do like certain tattoos I've seen over the years, particularly on guys. On a guy, certain well placed tattoos are really hot. I said certain. I once worked with a kid that had his own tattoo gun and it just looked like he scribbled all over himself. Another girl I worked with got tattoos done for free, which looked like the body art I would inflict on my arm whenever I was bored in class. And that's there forever kids. Plus, girls tend to get the same tattoos: the dolphin on the ankle; the rose on the hip; a name/adjective on the lower back; angel wings on their back; stars on the back of their neck. It's all been done before ladies. *

My sister and I have an agreement that if one of us dies first, the other will have to get a tattoo of us, as an angel, doing jazz hands, perched on our right shoulder blade. Yes, we were sober when we decided this.

I approve of tattoos as long as they are not on your face or make you look like your constantly wearing sleeves or leggings. As for the tramp stamp, go for it ladies. It just makes it easier for the guys to seperate the easy kill from the herd.**



*Oh! and chinese symbols.

**to any tramp stampers out there that did not approve, I'll apologize, but only if you can prove me wrong.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Viva Mexico...Viva America

Ah, Fiesta. It's the only time you can celebrate Old Spanish Days by eating a ton of Mexican food and drinking even more Mexican beer while listening to Mexican Mariachis singing about Mexico.
Santa Barbara started fiesta in order to increase tourism and give police officers a reason to taser anything that resists, but the only things Spanish is the dancing and a lot of white people dressed in flamenco outfits that show too much lower back.
Don't get me wrong, I don't hate on fiesta. I love traditions, especially ones that I can drink to and attack strangers with eggs full of confetti. But there are soooooooo many tourists. But if you're coming to fiesta, you should know better than to venture downtown without stocking up on your own ammo.

So my friends and I went out on Thursday night. I was the first victim to get hit by a cascarone, but thankfully, I wore my hair down, so I could care less. It's funny, part of you wants to get hit by the egg, but part of you does not, but you know it's coming, so it's the anticipation that's the worst thing about it. So we hung around de la guerra plaza, got some tacos, and we were in the line for churros when Maggie asks me if I had been by the coke booth yet. Explanation: My father was part of the Knights of Columbus, and if you're Catholic, you know all about them, but for those who aren't, it's basically a church organization of old men (and my brother) who just hang around and try to get other old men to join their group, but they also raise money via pancake breakfasts and a soda booth during fiesta. I don't know where all that money goes, but they use some of it for scholarships and charities? I don't know. I could look it up, but I'll just wait for some smart ass to correct me. I DARE YOU.
So anyways, my father was strangely and deeply committed to the coke booth at de la guerra. He made us work there one day many fiestas ago, and it was a disaster. We had no idea how anything turned on, or kept going, and I'm pretty sure we served flat soda the first part of the morning. But that only encouraged my father to keep working there, and that led to him reconstructing the booth to make it look nicer, and getting my brother to help out, and my Uncle Bob whenever he came out from Pennsylvania to visit. But the coke booth was my father's adopted child, so to speak. So this was the first year that poor little booth had to sustain without my father. The KOC kindly dedicated it to him, and they asked my mom if they could use a picture. They didn't say which picture.
So back to Thursday. I told Mags that there would be a picture of my dad there, but I didn't see anything the day before. Well Maggie informs me there is indeed a picture of him up, but it looks like a family one. Yes, I was featured on the KOC coke booth. thank god it was a good picture of me. It was a nice gesture. I appreciated it, and then I moved on, little do I know that the next day, there is a picture of our picture in the paper. I know, right?
Well, the rest of the night went pretty well, despite the fact that we went to two Irish bars in town. In our defense, if there was a Cerveseria we'd go there. It would probably be super full and have a huge cover, but this is all hypothetical. We met some British guys who we of course had to cascarone. One didn't take kindly to it, but the others enjoyed it, even if the confetti got into their Cuervo margaritas. I apologized, but I finished with,"well, it's not like you're drinking anything decent." I finished off the night by accepting a ride from my older sister that night, who was lucky enough to get involved in the other tradition that nobody loves: the fiesta DUI checkpoint. It's a long story that she doesn't like me telling, but she got off. barely.
Well, that's about it for my fiesta activities. I am boycotting fiesta pequena until they get a Mariachi band that doesn't ruin my favorite song. I missed the fiesta parade, but I only work a block away from it, so I definitely heard it. I saw a part of the children's parade, but it wasn't intentional. I only pay attention if they're throwing candy, and they were not. You hit one child in the eye with a jolly rancher and suddenly it's not "safe."

So now it's back to nothing. awesome. Oh well, at least the confetti will remain until the next rain.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

The Latest Outrage

you: 1 of 300 frowning, self-absorbed, eye-contact aversive women on state street around farmer's market today
me: listening to ipod, perplexed, possibly projecting his misanthropy on the myriad miserable-looking women of santa barbara.
i've been to a few places, but sb is unique. having been raised in orange county, i thought i'd met a lot of unreliable, selfish, entitled parasites but jesus christ! moving to iv/sb showed me my naiveté. as i stroll state i look (briefly, i don't like too much eye contact, for fear of my thoughts being known i guess) into a lot of faces (also hiding behind shield sunglasses with a strong aversion to eye contact exceeding 1/10th of a second) and i wonder. i wonder if any of you narcissists are thinking about your place in the universe, can distinguish between 'your' and 'you're'/to, too, two/ whose, who's, etc., out-of-control deforestation, excessive whaling, or if we are a human plague (homo sapiens, an earthly disease?)? or are you more concerned with you, lindsay lohan going to jail, or mel gibson's latest bout of misogyny/prejudice. are you?? i want to know!!
so tell me, if you're reading this and think i'm a pretentious asshole (you might be right) feel free to call me on it! but if you're gonna take the time to click, type, and click again, please put some thought in it, cuz for real, it's difficult to find stimulating conversation in this town. if you relate to this, that's cool, i'm not alone in my concerns and neither are you :) and we might get along well.
what i would like to come of this post: 2 things:
1) an intelligent, thoughtful response from an attractive (independent thought is easily the most attractive aspect of any person, in my opinion) girl who also wonders if quality human interaction can be found here

or

2) people in santa barbara to wake up, realize they aren't the only people walking around this pricey town, and act decently toward each other (but i'm not holdin' my breath)

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Third time's a charm

For all two of you out there who used to hang on to my every word (well, that's how I envisioned you in my daydreams), I am back to blogging, despite the fact that everyone's doing it and that I hate the word "blog" so much I want to punch whomever's "creative" juices were responsible for it's existence.
Past Blogging Credits:
I had a travel blog before and that ended due to my return back to the states. It was wildly popular with my mother's friends and I consider that an accomplishment. I also started a bored at work blog but that quickly ended due to loss of creativity that comes hand in hand with an office job. I heard it's not mandated, but highly encouraged.

So now I'm back to my ramblings, but it will all be about things that I like to talk about and no, I do not need to apologize in advance for any cute kitten stories that are bound to crop up from time to time.

I'm not promising too much, but I think you can expect some fiesta stories soon because that's what's going on in my life this week. And true, ever since I was a kid I was a little cynical about fiesta because it started as a tourist trap and in grand Santa Barbara tradition, continues to be a tourist trap, but that was before I started drinking...so now I LOVE fiesta.

Well I hoped I have put you in a frenzy for more of this AWESOME writing (don't crush my dreams just yet), but I'm done for now. I might just go do some good ol' wikipedia reasearch about fiesta. Since my college degree was acquired I actually enjoy looking up facts for a project. I think it's because there's a lack of a deadline and no grade. Is that just me?