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.

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.

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.

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!

"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.