So I haven't been writing as of late, and I would apologize but I'm not that sorry. I wrote because I enjoyed imagining people reading my whimsical thoughts on life and wishing they could hang out with me all the time. And I was bored. That was a big factor. Now I actually have work to do. In fact, I have this ongoing thing which I have been working on for a while and never seems to end. That sounds like hell to most people, but to the person who made it her job to stalk people on Facebook, it sounds refreshing. It's like her job does end up helping someone. Who that someone is, she has no idea, but it's nice to have that in mind. Makes the hours feel well spent. And I do stalk people, but it actually helps me with my work. I don't have to do it, but I go that extra mile. By the way, go to spokeo.com, look up your name, then get it removed. It's creepy. Totally unrelated. Moving on.
So I take this time out of my busywork to talk to you good people and let you know that I'm here, filled to the brim with sarcasm, cynicism and dry wit. I really do want to entertain you, or at least trick you to read this, but I'm only one person. There's only so much I can do in a 7 hour work day. Our customer database isn't going to update itself, right? I guess you don't know. Or care. More of the not caring, now that I think about it. Yeah, that feels about right.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
What Happened?
I don't do resolutions. It feels ridiculous to start with a clean slate when last year was literally 3 days ago. Life is continuous. It never halts. Unless you die, of course, but you really can't do anything about that. I know people need some some of guidance to get them back on track, whatever or wherever that track is, but life is too short to keep starting it over every 12 months. So I say take what you have or have not learned in the recent months, and throw it into the future, because honestly, this train isn't stopping. And don't say you never learned anything last year. I call bullshit. Just because you didn't like what you learned does not mean it doesn't apply to you. Take me for instance. I did not have a good year but I learned a lot, most of which I did not want to be privy to, but it's hard to unlearn something. Unless I have a stroke that affects the learning cortex of my brain and I forget how to do everything. Sorry, that's not funny. It's true, but not funny. Unless you laughed. You horrible person you. Join the club. I'm on a lot of medication right now.
Deep Breath.
It's hard to tell whether or not you'll have a good year when you're starting out. Honestly you don't really know until the following December. Of course, everyone hopes for a good year. No one is desperately wishing for an arduous one full of heartbreak and financial woes. Unless you're into that. I don't know your life. I think we should all stop hoping for a good year and go into it with low expectations. Take a look at last year, for example. I remember countless newspaper headlines that romanticized 2010 as the year that will save us from our sorrow. It was going to be good. It had to be good. But it wasn't, was it? And I say that from an objective standpoint. I am in no way putting my experiences into the mix. We wanted everything to be automatically fixed once the ball dropped; it may be the American in us but we don't like waiting. Obviously. Look at all those 9/11 themed movies that were released even though it's still too soon. We expect things to be resolved in neat 22 minute episodes as if life was part of a Thursday night lineup. Instead, it's more like the movie Australia: never ending and with absolutely no spark of happiness/chemistry to light the way to the end (even though it's fucking Hugh Jackman for Christ sakes. Woman up, Kidman). Back to analogies that really only make sense to me: it's getting better, but it's not happening in an instant. Who knows what next year will bring? All I'm saying is that you shouldn't expect too much. That way if the year does turn out to be awesome, it'll be like bonus materials that are so excessive, it garners an extra dvd. No one ever hates on bonus materials. Sorry but I was trying to keep in the theme of the rant.
To those who skimmed: go back and read it again you slackers! I'm not going to sum things up for you and let you miss out on all the good stuff thought up by my intense doses of dayquil and robitussin and a little bit of zycam topped off with the lingering tylenol PM from last night. Seriously though, someone read it back to me. I feel like I might have offended a lot of people/places/religious creeds.
Deep Breath.
It's hard to tell whether or not you'll have a good year when you're starting out. Honestly you don't really know until the following December. Of course, everyone hopes for a good year. No one is desperately wishing for an arduous one full of heartbreak and financial woes. Unless you're into that. I don't know your life. I think we should all stop hoping for a good year and go into it with low expectations. Take a look at last year, for example. I remember countless newspaper headlines that romanticized 2010 as the year that will save us from our sorrow. It was going to be good. It had to be good. But it wasn't, was it? And I say that from an objective standpoint. I am in no way putting my experiences into the mix. We wanted everything to be automatically fixed once the ball dropped; it may be the American in us but we don't like waiting. Obviously. Look at all those 9/11 themed movies that were released even though it's still too soon. We expect things to be resolved in neat 22 minute episodes as if life was part of a Thursday night lineup. Instead, it's more like the movie Australia: never ending and with absolutely no spark of happiness/chemistry to light the way to the end (even though it's fucking Hugh Jackman for Christ sakes. Woman up, Kidman). Back to analogies that really only make sense to me: it's getting better, but it's not happening in an instant. Who knows what next year will bring? All I'm saying is that you shouldn't expect too much. That way if the year does turn out to be awesome, it'll be like bonus materials that are so excessive, it garners an extra dvd. No one ever hates on bonus materials. Sorry but I was trying to keep in the theme of the rant.
To those who skimmed: go back and read it again you slackers! I'm not going to sum things up for you and let you miss out on all the good stuff thought up by my intense doses of dayquil and robitussin and a little bit of zycam topped off with the lingering tylenol PM from last night. Seriously though, someone read it back to me. I feel like I might have offended a lot of people/places/religious creeds.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
What Would Don Draper Do?
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
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.
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!
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.
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.
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