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.

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.

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.

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.

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.