Current phrase stuck in my head: They may be ugly but they better than nuthin'.
Currently I'm trying out Rhapsody's music service thanks to the two week free trial from Best Buy (advertised on my Sarah McLachlan "Wintersong" cd.) I was figuring it would be like my free 50 songs from eMusic which was annoying because I couldn't ever find what I wanted but nooooooo.... this dang Rhapsody thing is actually kinda cool. But I can't afford to subscribe. Dang.
But in the meantime:
I think this is my playlist??
Friday, December 08, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Mommy, what does dying feel like?
The answer to that question, kiddos, is "A bit like watching THE BLACK DAHLIA."
As we begin to move into my favorite season (autumn) (but... not in Los Angeles because we have no real damn ass seasons) and my favorite month (October), I feel a need to catch up a bit. So here's a few things that I've done in the past few months (whilst in "back drama recovery mode").
I've continued watching numerous movies both in theaters and on DVD, VHS and television for the GLAAD (Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) movie nomination committee that I am. I joined this group and began attending the meetings in part to fulfill my New Year's resolution to "be more gay" but admittedly I'm a little gayed out. I would like to see some nice movies with NO QUEERS! But alas I must continue to kill many birds with a few stones and so most of my outings and free periods of time have been filled with gay gay gay. Now this is not all bad (or even "very bad") ... there have, in fact, been a few bright shining stars on my GLAAD movie list. IMAGINE ME AND YOU is probably my favorite of the year so far though I've given TALLADEGA NIGHTS my highest score followed, closely, by V IS FOR VENDETTA and LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE. (And LOVING ANNABELLE was good but that's not on my official view list.) But just to recap you on movies I've seen (and the scores I've given them)(and I'm now known as "Erin the low scorer" at the meetings) - here they are:
(Scores are out of 40 possible points and are not necessarily reflective of how much I actually enjoyed the movie or not)
-Imagine Me and You (29)
-MTV's True Life: I Have Gay Parents (22)
-Duck Season (19)
-V is for Vendetta (31)
-Rosie's All Aboard Cruise (28)
-Kinky Boots (28)
-Lucky Number Slevin (20)
-Summer Storm (30)
-FAQS (15)
-Billie Jean (on HBO Sports show)(27)
-Poseidon Adventure (23)
-April's Shower (22)
-Adam & Steve (19)
-Art School Confidential (19)
-In Their Own Words with the music of Hedwig and the Angry Inch (30)
-Devil Wears Prada (15) (I actually LOVED this movie but scored it low on the GLAAD criteria because they never SAY that Stanley Tucci is supposed to be gay)
-The Break-Up (15)
-Fabulous: The Story of Queer Cinema (26)
-The Sisters (23)
-Keep Not Silent (29)
-Strangers With Candy (26)
-A Year Without Love (30)
-Little Miss Sunshine (31)
-Standing Still (22)
-Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (39)
-She's the Man (16)
-Don't Tell (22)
-The Power of Harmony (17)
-Say Uncle (26)
-Red Doors (not yet rated)
-The Black Dahlia (not yet rated BUT IT WAS A BIG FLAMING PIECE OF POO)
Oy and there are so many more on the horizon that I have to view... here's just a smattering: Shortbus, Infamous, 20 Centimeters, For Your Consideration, History Boys, Three Needles, Paper Dolls, Race You to the Bottom, Guys and Balls, Quincenera, The Groomsmen, Changing Times, Another Gay Movie, When Do We Eat, Go for Zucker, Trust the Man, Friends with Money, Basic Instinct 2, The Night Listener, Crank, The Great Pink Scare, etc. etc. etc.
Moving on - I had a birthday. I turned 28. I celebrated at an irish restaurant called Tom Bergins where I enjoyed a dish called "Chicken Erin." (It was actually good.) I then plotted and planned a beach bonfire (despite my dislike of the beach) with a couple of other girls and dealt with that. (The day put my back BACK into "level three" which is what it was to begin with - though with my rehab excercises it did not pull on a disc therefore it was not quite as bad. Though it meant I had to restart my chiro treatments when I WAS practically just ending them.)
I went in for a scan of my brain. Another MySpace acquaintance is studying at UCLA and needed a willing participant (who was as desperate for twenty bucks as I was/am) and I volunteered! (Secretly, being a hypochondriac, I signed up for the free scan so that I could see if there was possibly some big obvious "thing" that might explain why my memory sucks BUT I was informed that they, being students, wouldn't really know if they saw a "thing" anyway.) (The second ulterior motive was the "free picture of my brain" which I thought would make an awesome MySpace default picture.)
So I went in and met the three girls who would administer my MRI scan, read over the "have no metal in your body" warnings and filled out a bunch of paperwork. Then I layed on a table while the girls explained that they were about to stick my head in a cage and I wouldn't see them do it. Y'see they plugged my ears, then put headphones over that, covered my eyes with goggles that viewed a Mac desktop, filled my hands with squeeze balls (for panic) and a button box (for answering test questions non-vocally), stuck a pillow under my knees and then covered me with a blanket. And then while I was completely sensory-deprived - they put a cage over my face and slid me into the tube. For about three minutes I thought, "MY HEAD IS IN A FUCKING CAGE!! MY HEAD IS IN A FUCKING CAGE!!! WHAT IF I NEED TO SIT UP! I CAN'T BECAUSE MY HEAD IS IN A CAGE!! AND I CAN'T SEE THE CAGE!! THIS IS SOME FUCKED UP SHIT!!" and then I breathed a sigh of relief. And then they pulled me out because apparently my head wasn't in the right place and they had to do it all again. This time, however, when they put me back in the tube the tube itself yanked on the goggle cord and after it tried to yank my nose off (I said, "Hey! Help! Nose!") they re-adjusted it. (But it got all askew on the way back in again.) So I'm still not sure what the test was exactly about but I can tell you that they showed me a bunch of people making angry faces. First they showed me people just smiling or staring blankly and I had to match the faces with either names (like "Amy" or "Bruce") or descriptions (like "wide-eyed" or "frown"). They would take pictures of my brain during these mental acrobats. Then they got all voo doo weird on me and during the second batch of tests they changed it up by showing me angry faces instead of blank or smiling faces. Do you think it means something that everytime one of the people made an angry face... I laughed? They did the same test over and over again - taking pictures of my brain each time and in between the tests I would close my eyes because the askew goggles left me with an askew view of the monitor which if I continued to stare at - would have given me a bad headache. So... with my eyes close, laying down, in a tube... with a non-visible head cage... I started to fall asleep. I'm pretty sure by the last test I was calling "Amy" by "Bruce" and saying someone with a frown was wide-eyed, simply because I was drifting to sleepyland. Eventually they pulled me out and we rushed out of the room (apparently they only had it for an hour) and then I was handed a bunch of follow-up tests. These personality test styled things seemed to have the theme of "do you have anxiety" but in the end they didn't tell me what the test was for because I said I'd be willing to do it again and they didn't want to spoil me for future potential use.
Mert instituted what I like to call "Write Night." (Write Night = a night in which we force each other to sit down and compose fiction simply by being there) We've had two "write nights" and I'm pretty sure we took more time deciding what we were going to snack on than actually ... writing (but at least something got done!) He began writing a script. I began writing a ... well I think it's a novel. But who knows. The second write night was cheese night. We went to several locations to procure interesting snack cheese (I got a blue variety, he got something a little more on the white side), olive spread, crackers and the "just perfect" beverages which we enjoyed on a bread board next to our back to back laptops. (Write Night, after just two installments, is on hiatus. I had finals at school. He had a houseguest. We better get back to them though.)
And along the lines of friend-instituted things - Monica has been coming over for a nightly walk. I'm on school break and bored as hell so she rolls over after work (which is where I go to school, which is like three blocks away) and we walk. I need to do this as, again, part of my "rehabilitation" and she just needs the company. So we walked on Monday. And we walked a little further... maybe a mile... on Tuesday (saw a raccoon that night). And last night we walked A LONG ASS WAY AND BACK... ruined our feet... and we'll probably never walk again!! (Which equals - maybe 3 miles.)
Backing up... I went to see a filming of CELEBRITY DUETS with Amy. I was that girl you didn't see on TV... the one drooling over Lucy Lawless. I think I said, "DAMN!" aloud maybe three or four times during the taping. I was also that girl clapping out of sync with the rest of the audience because I have no rhythm. You should see a TV taping once in your life but really - once is enough. Afterwards you're like "well that was a lot of trouble... I could have just watched that at home." (TV Tapings I've been to: The Single Guy, Reba, that show with Nancy McKeon - Can't Hurry Love, Ellen DeGeneres and Jimmy Kimmel.) In this case, the audience was on-camera so we had to "act" like we were really into the performances. And when you're busy acting... you kinda forget to actually watch and enjoy the performances. (FYI - I was there the night Lucy sang "Footloose" and Leah Thompson got the boot.) The fun part was seeing Wayne Brady fear for his career after he told Carly Patterson that she was safe and then had the stage manager run up and say "there was a mistake, she's not safe" and then he got scared but then they let Carly be safe anyway. When I watched in L.A. they had edited that part out. (Because, y'know, one of the sucky things about the Pacific time zone is that you never ACTUALLY see anything LIVE.)
Taysha's Disneyland Half Marathon
September 16th I went to hang out at Disneyland! My first time since the 50th anniversary celebrations had begun! (Actually Taysha later pointed out that we had been there recently but it was one of those all night park events and there were no "50'th Anniversary Celebrations" actually happening.) It was also my first time since they put Jack Sparrow (and others) into the Pirates of the Caribbean and the new bride into the Haunted Mansion. Well no luck on the bride because the Haunted Mansion was closed (probably putting the Nightmare B4 Xmas gang in for the holidays - DRAT!!) but I did get to meet Jack and Davey Jones and the Black Pearl. And it was pretty cool. I would be a little more UPSET about the changing of my rides .. MY RIDES THAT I REMEMBER but I've recently discovered http://www.extinct-attractions-club.com/ where I can buy documentary video of the rides the way I grew up with them. So I'm not so sad anymore. Anyway - that is entirely not the point! The day began with my parking fiasco as I tried to determine whether I should park in the big lot or at the Paradise Pier. The decision, you see, was whether or not I was sleeping at the hotel with Taysha or at Becky's... and the point in question was the amazing pyrotechnic 50th anniversary fireworks that I'd been hearing such good things about. I decided I had to park at the Paradise Pier! (Which meant that I had to get an "exit" pass since I was in the damn Mickey & Friends lot line and make a big loop. That was all fine and dandy because it gave Becky and family time to enjoy their breakfast.) We joined up in the park and little Jonathan (who looks eerily like is mother...his mother being my ex-girlfriend) determined where we would all go. So this equaled Buzz Lightyear and Innoventions (where I met ASIMO the creepy Honda robot). In Innoventions I was then relay-race-baton-passed to Taysha and Chaz (Becky and fam skipped over to California Adventure) who then put me in charge... so we went on Autopia (where something brown and terrible that stained my hand yellow fell upon me from somewhere in the sky! ewww!) and enjoyed our start/stop/start/stop ride as the little girl who CUT US and jumped in the car in front of Chaz failed to proceed in a timely uninterrupted manner down the track. Taysha and I, in a car together, prayed for something brown and terrible to fall upon her. (Not really but that makes a better story.) Next we dined at the Pizza Port (where I was impressed with my "crazy straw" that changed colors), got Fast Passes for Space Mountain (we never went back) and then I drug them to Pirates which had a long-ass-line. Luckily Taysha did not hyperventilate nor did she black out or "see white" as she apparently sometimes does in crowds. Next was a trip to the Disney Gallery where I purchased a PeopleMover poster (you'll see why later... in the RavenWolf Productions page blog). We had to kill thirty minutes while that got printed so Chaz found the smoking section (by the river), Taysha and I "powdered our noses" and then we enjoyed a fascinating mint julep. We were kinda laid back. And I was doing 90% of the talking ... which should say something about the Taysha/Chaz mood. Then we picked up my poster and left Dland for the hotel so Taysha could check-in, get her breakfast bag for marathon morning and so we could chill. We ending up chilling long enough for us to go to the marathon pep rally where we were met up with by Monica. We cheered. We bounced. We teared up because some people insisted on bringing the pep down by bringing up AIDS victims and why these select people were running this half-marathon to begin with. By now it was about 6:30 and Taysha had determined that we MUST BE BACK IN THE HOTEL ROOM AND IN BED BY 7:00pm. Thus my fireworks dilemma - because they weren't going to start until 9:15ish. Meanwhile my conversations throughout the day with Becky went like this, "You're staying at my house. There is no way in hell that you are missing these fireworks. I will drive you to the race in the morning. I don't care what time I have to wake up! You are seeing these fireworks damnit!!" (And as I enjoy being dominated by a woman.. it was really really hard to insist that I stay at the hotel and miss the fabulous display.) Well T ended up getting a little laid back and we all went to California Adventure (just as Becky and fam were leaving CA to go back to DL... we were not destined to meet back up). Taysha and Chaz went on the Tower of Terror (which I avoid at all costs, Monica as well), then we went to the Muppet 3D show and then we had to grab some food and leave so Taysha could get to bed. Chaz and I procured the golden god of food - cheddar cheese on a stick, fried in corn dog batter (Angels sing: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH). Taysha and Monica got bread bowls. We went back to the hotel room to dine. After finishing up I somehow managed to convince Taysha/Monica that I needed to go back and buy a 50th anniversary souvenir so Taysha went to bed and Monica and I departed. Halfway back to Downtown Disney Monica said, "Erin, just go. She's sleeping now and she won't know. Just gooooo and see your fireworks! Run. Run like the wind!" So I hightailed it back to Disneyland and made in the gates and back on Main Street JUST IN TIME to see the beauty and magic that was the cool-ass-ride-themed fireworks. Which I filmed. Then I shopped.. and by the time I actually made it back into the room it was 11:00. I snuck in SOOO FREAKING QUIETLY... (so quietly) and while I was standing at the edge of the bed... Taysha raised her damn head, looked at me and then looked at the clock and then gave me a shame head shake. DAMNIT!! I DID NOT WAKE YOU!!! (I mouthed.)
Then we all proceeded to attempt to sleep. Monica kept shuffling around in her sheets. Taysha had the HEAT on. Everybody left this one lamp on thinking it was for someone else. Monica kept waking up in a panic thinking we had overslept the race. Etc. Eventually 3am rolled around (yes, 3am) and Taysha got up and started getting ready for her day. The rest of us started getting ready too - hell, we were awake and by 4:30 we were in the hotel lobby with a good hundred other marathoners. Taysha left with her pace group and the adventure began for Monica, Chaz and I as we had to find and get to the "cheer section" for AIDS Project LA before the roads closed. Oh and we had plenty of time y'see because we had to be out of the hotel by 5:15am but since we were up... we just head on over and got to the place by 5:00am.
And what was there really to do at that time? Nothing. Nothing at all. And it was cold. Very cold. So we did what any cold people would do... we went to the man who had strangely shaved his face into the shape of Mickey Mouse (intentionally?) and asked for free t-shirts. Oh and that man said the nicest thing to me... the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me. He said, "Sorry but the smallest size we have is Medium." Bless that Mickey bearded man! Anyway - so the three of us layered up with our AIDS Project L.A. t-shirts and then went back into our vehicle for heat. Taysha wasn't due to pass us on this section of the route until about 7am. We had some time to kill so I read the "marathon cheering etiquette" rules aloud. Here we learned that we should cheer for everybody but "cheer louder" for the APLA runners and that it is in BAD TASTE to shout things like "JUST A LITTLE BIT FURTHER!!" and "YOU'RE ALMOST THERE - WOO!!" and "COME ON - KEEP IT UP!!" These are things that runners will run off the path to beat you for. We also learned that we should NOT cross the path - this put us in a semi-panic as we actually didn't know which way the path was directed because nobody had passed us and the water/Powerade tables weren't set up yet. So while Monica attempted to go back to sleep curled up in the driver's seat - Chaz and I (I think he was sleeping too actually) kept eagle eyes out for the first runners. Meanwhile - some extra cheery social people had already begun gathering with their signs to whoop and holler. And suddenly we saw activity. Chaz said, "Look! A runner!" And the corner people began to "Yay" and shake their signs. And we thought we needed to run out and get to the cheer line because if one runner was coming ... they all were coming and we NEEDED TO CROSS THE PATH BEFORE THEY GOT THERE. Soooo... I poked Monica. And he was just a jogger. Just a jogger on his morning run... he turned the wrong way and looked pretty confused as to why there were a group of people cheering him on. And Chaz and I laughed. And Monica beamed us with her death stares and continued to yell at me all day for "WAKING ME FOR A JOGGER!" But from then on she was awake so we stared at the people that were standing outside in the cold - including a man with his small child on his shoulders. Chaz and Monica joked, "How can they be out there in this cold?" "That little child probably doesn't know any better. They're probably dying." "Mommy, what does dying feel like?" And then we laughed...probably too much but that became our mantra for the day. "Mommy, what does dying feel like?"
Eventually the first runner did pass us followed by two or three more then bigger clumps and all of us onlookers that were waiting in our cars emerged to do our duties. We cheered. We whooped. We hollered. (Louder for the yellow-shirted APLA runners and also louder for the wonderful runners in costumes. We saw pirates, Tinkerbells, Mickeys, Snow Whites, a pink ninja and lots more.) We discovered that when WOOOing got tiring we could revert to a low "yay," the occasional whistle, some up and down jumping ... and more. But we kept a short supply of energy for Taysha's run past us which happened about an hour after the first runners showed up.
As we begin to move into my favorite season (autumn) (but... not in Los Angeles because we have no real damn ass seasons) and my favorite month (October), I feel a need to catch up a bit. So here's a few things that I've done in the past few months (whilst in "back drama recovery mode").
I've continued watching numerous movies both in theaters and on DVD, VHS and television for the GLAAD (Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) movie nomination committee that I am. I joined this group and began attending the meetings in part to fulfill my New Year's resolution to "be more gay" but admittedly I'm a little gayed out. I would like to see some nice movies with NO QUEERS! But alas I must continue to kill many birds with a few stones and so most of my outings and free periods of time have been filled with gay gay gay. Now this is not all bad (or even "very bad") ... there have, in fact, been a few bright shining stars on my GLAAD movie list. IMAGINE ME AND YOU is probably my favorite of the year so far though I've given TALLADEGA NIGHTS my highest score followed, closely, by V IS FOR VENDETTA and LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE. (And LOVING ANNABELLE was good but that's not on my official view list.) But just to recap you on movies I've seen (and the scores I've given them)(and I'm now known as "Erin the low scorer" at the meetings) - here they are:
(Scores are out of 40 possible points and are not necessarily reflective of how much I actually enjoyed the movie or not)
-Imagine Me and You (29)
-MTV's True Life: I Have Gay Parents (22)
-Duck Season (19)
-V is for Vendetta (31)
-Rosie's All Aboard Cruise (28)
-Kinky Boots (28)
-Lucky Number Slevin (20)
-Summer Storm (30)
-FAQS (15)
-Billie Jean (on HBO Sports show)(27)
-Poseidon Adventure (23)
-April's Shower (22)
-Adam & Steve (19)
-Art School Confidential (19)
-In Their Own Words with the music of Hedwig and the Angry Inch (30)
-Devil Wears Prada (15) (I actually LOVED this movie but scored it low on the GLAAD criteria because they never SAY that Stanley Tucci is supposed to be gay)
-The Break-Up (15)
-Fabulous: The Story of Queer Cinema (26)
-The Sisters (23)
-Keep Not Silent (29)
-Strangers With Candy (26)
-A Year Without Love (30)
-Little Miss Sunshine (31)
-Standing Still (22)
-Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (39)
-She's the Man (16)
-Don't Tell (22)
-The Power of Harmony (17)
-Say Uncle (26)
-Red Doors (not yet rated)
-The Black Dahlia (not yet rated BUT IT WAS A BIG FLAMING PIECE OF POO)
Oy and there are so many more on the horizon that I have to view... here's just a smattering: Shortbus, Infamous, 20 Centimeters, For Your Consideration, History Boys, Three Needles, Paper Dolls, Race You to the Bottom, Guys and Balls, Quincenera, The Groomsmen, Changing Times, Another Gay Movie, When Do We Eat, Go for Zucker, Trust the Man, Friends with Money, Basic Instinct 2, The Night Listener, Crank, The Great Pink Scare, etc. etc. etc.
Moving on - I had a birthday. I turned 28. I celebrated at an irish restaurant called Tom Bergins where I enjoyed a dish called "Chicken Erin." (It was actually good.) I then plotted and planned a beach bonfire (despite my dislike of the beach) with a couple of other girls and dealt with that. (The day put my back BACK into "level three" which is what it was to begin with - though with my rehab excercises it did not pull on a disc therefore it was not quite as bad. Though it meant I had to restart my chiro treatments when I WAS practically just ending them.)
I went in for a scan of my brain. Another MySpace acquaintance is studying at UCLA and needed a willing participant (who was as desperate for twenty bucks as I was/am) and I volunteered! (Secretly, being a hypochondriac, I signed up for the free scan so that I could see if there was possibly some big obvious "thing" that might explain why my memory sucks BUT I was informed that they, being students, wouldn't really know if they saw a "thing" anyway.) (The second ulterior motive was the "free picture of my brain" which I thought would make an awesome MySpace default picture.)
So I went in and met the three girls who would administer my MRI scan, read over the "have no metal in your body" warnings and filled out a bunch of paperwork. Then I layed on a table while the girls explained that they were about to stick my head in a cage and I wouldn't see them do it. Y'see they plugged my ears, then put headphones over that, covered my eyes with goggles that viewed a Mac desktop, filled my hands with squeeze balls (for panic) and a button box (for answering test questions non-vocally), stuck a pillow under my knees and then covered me with a blanket. And then while I was completely sensory-deprived - they put a cage over my face and slid me into the tube. For about three minutes I thought, "MY HEAD IS IN A FUCKING CAGE!! MY HEAD IS IN A FUCKING CAGE!!! WHAT IF I NEED TO SIT UP! I CAN'T BECAUSE MY HEAD IS IN A CAGE!! AND I CAN'T SEE THE CAGE!! THIS IS SOME FUCKED UP SHIT!!" and then I breathed a sigh of relief. And then they pulled me out because apparently my head wasn't in the right place and they had to do it all again. This time, however, when they put me back in the tube the tube itself yanked on the goggle cord and after it tried to yank my nose off (I said, "Hey! Help! Nose!") they re-adjusted it. (But it got all askew on the way back in again.) So I'm still not sure what the test was exactly about but I can tell you that they showed me a bunch of people making angry faces. First they showed me people just smiling or staring blankly and I had to match the faces with either names (like "Amy" or "Bruce") or descriptions (like "wide-eyed" or "frown"). They would take pictures of my brain during these mental acrobats. Then they got all voo doo weird on me and during the second batch of tests they changed it up by showing me angry faces instead of blank or smiling faces. Do you think it means something that everytime one of the people made an angry face... I laughed? They did the same test over and over again - taking pictures of my brain each time and in between the tests I would close my eyes because the askew goggles left me with an askew view of the monitor which if I continued to stare at - would have given me a bad headache. So... with my eyes close, laying down, in a tube... with a non-visible head cage... I started to fall asleep. I'm pretty sure by the last test I was calling "Amy" by "Bruce" and saying someone with a frown was wide-eyed, simply because I was drifting to sleepyland. Eventually they pulled me out and we rushed out of the room (apparently they only had it for an hour) and then I was handed a bunch of follow-up tests. These personality test styled things seemed to have the theme of "do you have anxiety" but in the end they didn't tell me what the test was for because I said I'd be willing to do it again and they didn't want to spoil me for future potential use.
Mert instituted what I like to call "Write Night." (Write Night = a night in which we force each other to sit down and compose fiction simply by being there) We've had two "write nights" and I'm pretty sure we took more time deciding what we were going to snack on than actually ... writing (but at least something got done!) He began writing a script. I began writing a ... well I think it's a novel. But who knows. The second write night was cheese night. We went to several locations to procure interesting snack cheese (I got a blue variety, he got something a little more on the white side), olive spread, crackers and the "just perfect" beverages which we enjoyed on a bread board next to our back to back laptops. (Write Night, after just two installments, is on hiatus. I had finals at school. He had a houseguest. We better get back to them though.)
And along the lines of friend-instituted things - Monica has been coming over for a nightly walk. I'm on school break and bored as hell so she rolls over after work (which is where I go to school, which is like three blocks away) and we walk. I need to do this as, again, part of my "rehabilitation" and she just needs the company. So we walked on Monday. And we walked a little further... maybe a mile... on Tuesday (saw a raccoon that night). And last night we walked A LONG ASS WAY AND BACK... ruined our feet... and we'll probably never walk again!! (Which equals - maybe 3 miles.)
Backing up... I went to see a filming of CELEBRITY DUETS with Amy. I was that girl you didn't see on TV... the one drooling over Lucy Lawless. I think I said, "DAMN!" aloud maybe three or four times during the taping. I was also that girl clapping out of sync with the rest of the audience because I have no rhythm. You should see a TV taping once in your life but really - once is enough. Afterwards you're like "well that was a lot of trouble... I could have just watched that at home." (TV Tapings I've been to: The Single Guy, Reba, that show with Nancy McKeon - Can't Hurry Love, Ellen DeGeneres and Jimmy Kimmel.) In this case, the audience was on-camera so we had to "act" like we were really into the performances. And when you're busy acting... you kinda forget to actually watch and enjoy the performances. (FYI - I was there the night Lucy sang "Footloose" and Leah Thompson got the boot.) The fun part was seeing Wayne Brady fear for his career after he told Carly Patterson that she was safe and then had the stage manager run up and say "there was a mistake, she's not safe" and then he got scared but then they let Carly be safe anyway. When I watched in L.A. they had edited that part out. (Because, y'know, one of the sucky things about the Pacific time zone is that you never ACTUALLY see anything LIVE.)
Taysha's Disneyland Half Marathon
September 16th I went to hang out at Disneyland! My first time since the 50th anniversary celebrations had begun! (Actually Taysha later pointed out that we had been there recently but it was one of those all night park events and there were no "50'th Anniversary Celebrations" actually happening.) It was also my first time since they put Jack Sparrow (and others) into the Pirates of the Caribbean and the new bride into the Haunted Mansion. Well no luck on the bride because the Haunted Mansion was closed (probably putting the Nightmare B4 Xmas gang in for the holidays - DRAT!!) but I did get to meet Jack and Davey Jones and the Black Pearl. And it was pretty cool. I would be a little more UPSET about the changing of my rides .. MY RIDES THAT I REMEMBER but I've recently discovered http://www.extinct-attractions-club.com/ where I can buy documentary video of the rides the way I grew up with them. So I'm not so sad anymore. Anyway - that is entirely not the point! The day began with my parking fiasco as I tried to determine whether I should park in the big lot or at the Paradise Pier. The decision, you see, was whether or not I was sleeping at the hotel with Taysha or at Becky's... and the point in question was the amazing pyrotechnic 50th anniversary fireworks that I'd been hearing such good things about. I decided I had to park at the Paradise Pier! (Which meant that I had to get an "exit" pass since I was in the damn Mickey & Friends lot line and make a big loop. That was all fine and dandy because it gave Becky and family time to enjoy their breakfast.) We joined up in the park and little Jonathan (who looks eerily like is mother...his mother being my ex-girlfriend) determined where we would all go. So this equaled Buzz Lightyear and Innoventions (where I met ASIMO the creepy Honda robot). In Innoventions I was then relay-race-baton-passed to Taysha and Chaz (Becky and fam skipped over to California Adventure) who then put me in charge... so we went on Autopia (where something brown and terrible that stained my hand yellow fell upon me from somewhere in the sky! ewww!) and enjoyed our start/stop/start/stop ride as the little girl who CUT US and jumped in the car in front of Chaz failed to proceed in a timely uninterrupted manner down the track. Taysha and I, in a car together, prayed for something brown and terrible to fall upon her. (Not really but that makes a better story.) Next we dined at the Pizza Port (where I was impressed with my "crazy straw" that changed colors), got Fast Passes for Space Mountain (we never went back) and then I drug them to Pirates which had a long-ass-line. Luckily Taysha did not hyperventilate nor did she black out or "see white" as she apparently sometimes does in crowds. Next was a trip to the Disney Gallery where I purchased a PeopleMover poster (you'll see why later... in the RavenWolf Productions page blog). We had to kill thirty minutes while that got printed so Chaz found the smoking section (by the river), Taysha and I "powdered our noses" and then we enjoyed a fascinating mint julep. We were kinda laid back. And I was doing 90% of the talking ... which should say something about the Taysha/Chaz mood. Then we picked up my poster and left Dland for the hotel so Taysha could check-in, get her breakfast bag for marathon morning and so we could chill. We ending up chilling long enough for us to go to the marathon pep rally where we were met up with by Monica. We cheered. We bounced. We teared up because some people insisted on bringing the pep down by bringing up AIDS victims and why these select people were running this half-marathon to begin with. By now it was about 6:30 and Taysha had determined that we MUST BE BACK IN THE HOTEL ROOM AND IN BED BY 7:00pm. Thus my fireworks dilemma - because they weren't going to start until 9:15ish. Meanwhile my conversations throughout the day with Becky went like this, "You're staying at my house. There is no way in hell that you are missing these fireworks. I will drive you to the race in the morning. I don't care what time I have to wake up! You are seeing these fireworks damnit!!" (And as I enjoy being dominated by a woman.. it was really really hard to insist that I stay at the hotel and miss the fabulous display.) Well T ended up getting a little laid back and we all went to California Adventure (just as Becky and fam were leaving CA to go back to DL... we were not destined to meet back up). Taysha and Chaz went on the Tower of Terror (which I avoid at all costs, Monica as well), then we went to the Muppet 3D show and then we had to grab some food and leave so Taysha could get to bed. Chaz and I procured the golden god of food - cheddar cheese on a stick, fried in corn dog batter (Angels sing: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH). Taysha and Monica got bread bowls. We went back to the hotel room to dine. After finishing up I somehow managed to convince Taysha/Monica that I needed to go back and buy a 50th anniversary souvenir so Taysha went to bed and Monica and I departed. Halfway back to Downtown Disney Monica said, "Erin, just go. She's sleeping now and she won't know. Just gooooo and see your fireworks! Run. Run like the wind!" So I hightailed it back to Disneyland and made in the gates and back on Main Street JUST IN TIME to see the beauty and magic that was the cool-ass-ride-themed fireworks. Which I filmed. Then I shopped.. and by the time I actually made it back into the room it was 11:00. I snuck in SOOO FREAKING QUIETLY... (so quietly) and while I was standing at the edge of the bed... Taysha raised her damn head, looked at me and then looked at the clock and then gave me a shame head shake. DAMNIT!! I DID NOT WAKE YOU!!! (I mouthed.)
Then we all proceeded to attempt to sleep. Monica kept shuffling around in her sheets. Taysha had the HEAT on. Everybody left this one lamp on thinking it was for someone else. Monica kept waking up in a panic thinking we had overslept the race. Etc. Eventually 3am rolled around (yes, 3am) and Taysha got up and started getting ready for her day. The rest of us started getting ready too - hell, we were awake and by 4:30 we were in the hotel lobby with a good hundred other marathoners. Taysha left with her pace group and the adventure began for Monica, Chaz and I as we had to find and get to the "cheer section" for AIDS Project LA before the roads closed. Oh and we had plenty of time y'see because we had to be out of the hotel by 5:15am but since we were up... we just head on over and got to the place by 5:00am.
And what was there really to do at that time? Nothing. Nothing at all. And it was cold. Very cold. So we did what any cold people would do... we went to the man who had strangely shaved his face into the shape of Mickey Mouse (intentionally?) and asked for free t-shirts. Oh and that man said the nicest thing to me... the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me. He said, "Sorry but the smallest size we have is Medium." Bless that Mickey bearded man! Anyway - so the three of us layered up with our AIDS Project L.A. t-shirts and then went back into our vehicle for heat. Taysha wasn't due to pass us on this section of the route until about 7am. We had some time to kill so I read the "marathon cheering etiquette" rules aloud. Here we learned that we should cheer for everybody but "cheer louder" for the APLA runners and that it is in BAD TASTE to shout things like "JUST A LITTLE BIT FURTHER!!" and "YOU'RE ALMOST THERE - WOO!!" and "COME ON - KEEP IT UP!!" These are things that runners will run off the path to beat you for. We also learned that we should NOT cross the path - this put us in a semi-panic as we actually didn't know which way the path was directed because nobody had passed us and the water/Powerade tables weren't set up yet. So while Monica attempted to go back to sleep curled up in the driver's seat - Chaz and I (I think he was sleeping too actually) kept eagle eyes out for the first runners. Meanwhile - some extra cheery social people had already begun gathering with their signs to whoop and holler. And suddenly we saw activity. Chaz said, "Look! A runner!" And the corner people began to "Yay" and shake their signs. And we thought we needed to run out and get to the cheer line because if one runner was coming ... they all were coming and we NEEDED TO CROSS THE PATH BEFORE THEY GOT THERE. Soooo... I poked Monica. And he was just a jogger. Just a jogger on his morning run... he turned the wrong way and looked pretty confused as to why there were a group of people cheering him on. And Chaz and I laughed. And Monica beamed us with her death stares and continued to yell at me all day for "WAKING ME FOR A JOGGER!" But from then on she was awake so we stared at the people that were standing outside in the cold - including a man with his small child on his shoulders. Chaz and Monica joked, "How can they be out there in this cold?" "That little child probably doesn't know any better. They're probably dying." "Mommy, what does dying feel like?" And then we laughed...probably too much but that became our mantra for the day. "Mommy, what does dying feel like?"
Eventually the first runner did pass us followed by two or three more then bigger clumps and all of us onlookers that were waiting in our cars emerged to do our duties. We cheered. We whooped. We hollered. (Louder for the yellow-shirted APLA runners and also louder for the wonderful runners in costumes. We saw pirates, Tinkerbells, Mickeys, Snow Whites, a pink ninja and lots more.) We discovered that when WOOOing got tiring we could revert to a low "yay," the occasional whistle, some up and down jumping ... and more. But we kept a short supply of energy for Taysha's run past us which happened about an hour after the first runners showed up.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Double Fisting
I am aging.
BACK STORY:
7 years old - I can no longer read the chalk board without my glasses thus requiring that I wear my glasses during class but I take them off for recess. By a year later... I can no longer see people any further than two feet away thus requiring that I wear my glasses EVEN DURING RECESS! (Fast forward maybe 3 years to when I can't see more than a 1/4 of an inch in front of my face thus requiring that I need glasses even for the short trips from the bed to the bathroom.)
9 years old - I suddenly recalled, one summer, that the girl I was being introduced to had been my bestest friend the year before. Paula. But I also realized that I could recall NONE of the previous summer. "I must be getting old," I thought, "I'm losing my memory!" (Either that or we were slipping into and out of parallel universes but that's really a conversation for a different day.)
16 years old - My best friend Becky finds my first white hair and through possibly deceptive means managed to convince me that it was pretty fucking cool (thus calming my freak out) ... and to this day I admire my pretty fucking cool white streak in the mirror at least once a damn day.
20 years old - I begin to realize that I ache. I have ACHES and PAINS! What the hell? Suddenly my neck and shoulders couldn't handle staring at the computer all night doing "homework." I begin to think about things like personal massagers and lumbar support. I also come to realize that I'm allergic to cats. Allergies?? I never had flippin' allergies before!!
24 years old - My neck pain is an everyday thing but added to the mix is a mysterious new pain at the left base of my spine. Most days it's an annoying "presence." I make my first visit to a chiropractor where I'm x-rayed and informed that I stand funny. Really? Why didn't anyone ever point that out before? A day after my intro visit to the chiro... I break out in hives. What in the freaking god damn is this rashy, itchy HELL?!?! For about two weeks I have this annoyance on my arms and torso - I wear latex gloves to bed to stop the itching, the latex gloves are too small so I fine-tune them to essentially finger tip gloves connected to a rubber bracelet, I take a variety of drug store "solutions" and bathe/soak in Oatmeal, rub in calamine lotion, etc. etc. until eventually I heal. After trying to figure it all out Miriam (my then girlfriend who nursed me through all that loveliness) put two and two together and realized... the robe! At the chiropractor's! When I had the x-rays!! Allergic!!! Fear.... of fabrics! I decide it must be some sort of hospital-grade detergent but the office can't tell me what it is because they send their items "out" to be laundered. (Anyway... tangent!)
So I return to this chiropractor's office and he proceeds to explain that apparently my neck bones and pelvic bones are just all fucked up. "See here they're about an inch misaligned. And here in the neck you're about a quarter inch off. I can fix it here with 10 or so visits but anywhere else they would recommend surgery!" I think ... Hmmmm... first of all - this chiropractor is in the ass end of nowhere so 10 visits here is entirely too inconvenient (my x-rays and evaluation were a part of a "free" offer to get things checked out) and second of all - I'M AFRAID OF YOUR GARMENTS! So I ask to kindly take my x-rays with me so that I can "show my parents so that they'll pay for it." (FYI - I've been sans any kind of medical insurance for about 9 years now.)
I end up taking in my X-rays and all effed up back to my mom's preferred practioner, a holistic chiropractor named Catherine, for a second opinion. Catherine explained that rather than being all messed up (per Dr. Evil Garments) I was actually just a mutant. "See," she said while pointing with a pencil that probably advertised Om, "he's looking at the bottom of your pelvic bone and the bottom of your neck discs while I prefer to look at the top. If you look at the top - you're perfectly aligned... which means that the left side of your pelvic bone is actually just shorter than it's supposed to be. Same with your neck. Oh and if you don't fix your posture soon - you're going to develop a hump."
Oh...a hump. Wonderful.
So after that and with some wonderful humming and body talking - she gave me a pleasant little adjustment and some exercises ("pretend you're looking up AND over a fence"). I ... felt ... OK .... for about a week until Miriam conquered me in a rousing game of "Queen of the Bed" and knocked that left bottom spine thing out of whack again. ("OH quit your whining ONLY CHILD!" was her response to my "Oh you just fucked up that thing!! Dammmmmnnnn youuuuuuu!")
Eventually it settles back into that mild annoyance back pain and only acts up after long bouts of walking or .... kickboxing. (Ha. Kickboxing. Me. Ha.) I begin to be careful about things like bending. And I also become that girl that can't sleep without my tempurpedic neck pillow and would just love pillows positioned lovingly in such a way that my knees are always lifted just so. Miriam took to pointing at me and saying, "Old."
(On a side note... I'm 5'4". Miriam is 6 feet tall. When we stopped seeing each other on a daily basis... my neck started to feel better.)
FAST FORWARD TO:
27 years and 11 months old - Monday, July 24th, 2006
I had spent the previous day at ComicCon walking briskly around the San Diego convention center floor and getting tuckered out. My back, in that left base of spine area, began to throb in its annoying little way but I paid it no mind. I'm used to this stupid nonsense now! But alas - I was not. After diving in and out of a tall wardrobe box (retrieving posters...not important to the tale) I made one apparently wrong bend and felt a HORRIBLE OUCH. When I scream... I scream silently. And I was afraid I'd just become one of those people that you see on TV sitcoms that say things like, "Oh honey I've just thrown out my back!" and then they proceed to walk around in a right angle for 25 more comedic minutes. But after a few moments of "Oh holy crap, what do I do!?!" I managed to straighten up and walked to my nearest parent and said, "I hurt."
Mother determined that I must have pinched my Sciatic nerve and instructed me to do an exercise that Catherine had given her for such moments called the "Hitch in your Get-a-long." It involved outward kicks and 45 degree angle kicks. I did this for a few minutes on each side and felt a little looser so I continued to do it every 10 minutes or so.
But the sting wasn't going away and I kept grabbing on to things so I decided I should probably use a cane for walking and standing support. Since my dad has a cane collection and my mom has bad knees... canes were more than available. I had a wide selection, in fact, and chose to use a nice black thorn walking stick from Ireland. (Mother's cane of choice.) That night I drove my car, went to a movie screening (of Little Miss Sunshine) and then went home... the whole time in pain. I went to bed sure that it would be gone in the morning.
Tuesday I woke up, got out of bed and still I hurt. But then I made the error... (well I suppose it would have happened at some point in the day but it happened to happen then... so I suppose I can't really call it an "error") ... of bending over. Bending AT ALL was so the wrong move and at that moment I experienced the STRANGEST FEELING I'd probably ever felt in my life as something very wrong happened. First I felt a shooting pain that traveled simultaneously down my left leg and up the left side of my body. My arms both went numb, I was completely overcome by nausea, my vision blurred and I started to fall and there was nothing I could do to stop myself because everything was locked up. Essentially - I practically fainted. (I have to say "practically" because I didn't lose consciousness... so "fainting" is still something I've never actually done in life. It's on the list of "almosts" and "near misses" along with black eyes and bloody noses... I've had "near" bloody noses but never a real one. Oh and stiches.. never had those.)
So there I was... on the floor... unable to move... in my pajamas.... behind a locked door. I realized that I was in a predicament. A painful predicament. After several minutes of the plain fear of moving I managed to retrieve my cell phone and called Brigitte in Minnesota who pep-talked me into scootching to the door to unlock it so that I could get actual help from someone who could actually help.
By the time I got to the door (a good ten minutes or so later) I was also able to stand so I calmly walked to my mother and stated, "Something happened and I think I passed out." To which my mother responded with a "Do you want me to see if I can get you in to see Catherine today?" "Yes, please."
(Another back story: Once I tried to give Miriam a piggy-back ride during a summer break from college. This was a mistake which ended in me stepping wrong as I threw her to the grassy ground - knocking the wind out of her and breaking two of my toes. Miriam begged me not to tell my mom what happened (she was afraid my mom would get mad because it was her idea and she "broke me") and called me a sissy-la-la for limping but I AM a sissy-la-la and the next day I was all... "Mom I think my toes are broken!" "Oh your toes are NOT broken you hypochondriac!!" was her response. But the next day... "Mom my toes are purple!!" led to her calling the doctor and taking me to the urgent care where I got my special shoe for broken toes and VALI-FUCKING-DATION that I was NOT wrong!! Queen Barb felt guilt for telling me otherwise.
A couple of years later - Miriam got pneumonia but just figured she had a bad cold and worked through it. Then she gave it to me and proceeded to call me (what now?) a sissy-la-la for whining about how I couldn't breathe and told me to go to work and just power-through it. Being the self-diagnoser that I am - I had my mom look up symptoms for pneumonia and said, "Yes, yes, I have all of those. I have pneumonia!!" To which my mom replied, "You do NOT have pneumonia you hypochondriac!!" Then after Miriam was mostly healed she called in a panic to inform me that her father had just been diagnosed with pneumonia and that she probably HAD given me pneumonia and that I should go to the doctor right away! I told my mother. She took me to the urgent care. I was once again VALI-FUCKING-DATED! (The doctor also told me that if I'd been any older I could've died.) I was supplied with medicines (which I was fucking allergic to!), an inhaler and a daily schedule for medicating. My mother was once again guilt-ridden.)
Back to the current issue at hand - I said "Ouch" - Mom said "How far and fast can I jump?!"
Catherine was able to see me within the hour so I got on some clothes (dressing without bending is not so easy) and we rushed over - I now double fisting two black-thorn walking sticks! Catherine assessed the situation and informed that, "Ooooh! You're in Category Three!" (I don't know what the categories are but category three sounded pretty bad.) Apparently - some joint had slipped out of its proper position (back there on that left base of my spine) and on its way down decided to pull a disc with it. And for the first time in my life I was given "doctor's orders" (note and all) to not attend school the next day.
My next few days were a flurry of ice packs, lumbar supports, pillows, Advil, slow walks in pajamas around the block with my double-fisted canes and I was never far from my easy gripper for picking up things like remote controls and strange robotic attempts at putting on socks.
(That's when I officially became old.)
I also instantly informed my friends so that they could roll on over to point and laugh in person. (This is how we relate.) (In fact this blog has been posted NOT for your sympathy but so that you, too, can point and laugh.)
My visits to Catherine were scheduled for every few days at first... and then a week.. to ten days. And each time she would hum and talk to my body and tell me things about how "your energy is trapped in your ovaries now and that means that you're probably having feelings of loss," and etc. (All valid, fyi, but not a tale I will share.) My category three went down to a two. I was given rehabilitation exercises (involving Tai Chi and yoga positions) as well as time to get trapped bad energy out and flowing again.
(For the record - when I am rich and living my life of luxury - I am SOOO keeping a holistic chiropractor on staff!)
And this, my blog reading friends, is where the "story" comes to a halt because we have been brought to the present. My last visit to Catherine was supposed to be the LAST visit. I know this because the second-to-last visit was when Catherine said, "So next time we should probably start thinking about setting up a plan. You're now at that age where you should start thinking about regular visits." Great - I've turned 28 and I'm "at that age" where my body stops growing and instead starts dying slowly.
BUT to throw a wrench in that "last visit" plan - I went and fucked my back up all over again at the birthday beach bonfire barbecue last weekend by getting all cocky and lugging around heavy things and running around in the sand. I'm back to a Category Two and, though "your joint IS stronger because this time it just slipped but didn't pull on the disc," I had to make a quick new appointment for tomorrow. And I think I pissed off Catherine in a "after I did all that work!" kind of way because in that last visit she hummed a little more agressively and poked and pushed harder than she usually does. (I had to ice after her visit but not before!!!)
Today... the damn joint feels worse... not better. I can feel it WANTING to pull on that disc. Apparently I must now live in fear! I must now heed warnings like, "People with a history of back injuries should not ride this ride." I have become THE LAME.
(Ahh who am I kidding... I was "the lame" already.)
- The End -
(of this chapter)
BACK STORY:
7 years old - I can no longer read the chalk board without my glasses thus requiring that I wear my glasses during class but I take them off for recess. By a year later... I can no longer see people any further than two feet away thus requiring that I wear my glasses EVEN DURING RECESS! (Fast forward maybe 3 years to when I can't see more than a 1/4 of an inch in front of my face thus requiring that I need glasses even for the short trips from the bed to the bathroom.)
9 years old - I suddenly recalled, one summer, that the girl I was being introduced to had been my bestest friend the year before. Paula. But I also realized that I could recall NONE of the previous summer. "I must be getting old," I thought, "I'm losing my memory!" (Either that or we were slipping into and out of parallel universes but that's really a conversation for a different day.)
16 years old - My best friend Becky finds my first white hair and through possibly deceptive means managed to convince me that it was pretty fucking cool (thus calming my freak out) ... and to this day I admire my pretty fucking cool white streak in the mirror at least once a damn day.
20 years old - I begin to realize that I ache. I have ACHES and PAINS! What the hell? Suddenly my neck and shoulders couldn't handle staring at the computer all night doing "homework." I begin to think about things like personal massagers and lumbar support. I also come to realize that I'm allergic to cats. Allergies?? I never had flippin' allergies before!!
24 years old - My neck pain is an everyday thing but added to the mix is a mysterious new pain at the left base of my spine. Most days it's an annoying "presence." I make my first visit to a chiropractor where I'm x-rayed and informed that I stand funny. Really? Why didn't anyone ever point that out before? A day after my intro visit to the chiro... I break out in hives. What in the freaking god damn is this rashy, itchy HELL?!?! For about two weeks I have this annoyance on my arms and torso - I wear latex gloves to bed to stop the itching, the latex gloves are too small so I fine-tune them to essentially finger tip gloves connected to a rubber bracelet, I take a variety of drug store "solutions" and bathe/soak in Oatmeal, rub in calamine lotion, etc. etc. until eventually I heal. After trying to figure it all out Miriam (my then girlfriend who nursed me through all that loveliness) put two and two together and realized... the robe! At the chiropractor's! When I had the x-rays!! Allergic!!! Fear.... of fabrics! I decide it must be some sort of hospital-grade detergent but the office can't tell me what it is because they send their items "out" to be laundered. (Anyway... tangent!)
So I return to this chiropractor's office and he proceeds to explain that apparently my neck bones and pelvic bones are just all fucked up. "See here they're about an inch misaligned. And here in the neck you're about a quarter inch off. I can fix it here with 10 or so visits but anywhere else they would recommend surgery!" I think ... Hmmmm... first of all - this chiropractor is in the ass end of nowhere so 10 visits here is entirely too inconvenient (my x-rays and evaluation were a part of a "free" offer to get things checked out) and second of all - I'M AFRAID OF YOUR GARMENTS! So I ask to kindly take my x-rays with me so that I can "show my parents so that they'll pay for it." (FYI - I've been sans any kind of medical insurance for about 9 years now.)
I end up taking in my X-rays and all effed up back to my mom's preferred practioner, a holistic chiropractor named Catherine, for a second opinion. Catherine explained that rather than being all messed up (per Dr. Evil Garments) I was actually just a mutant. "See," she said while pointing with a pencil that probably advertised Om, "he's looking at the bottom of your pelvic bone and the bottom of your neck discs while I prefer to look at the top. If you look at the top - you're perfectly aligned... which means that the left side of your pelvic bone is actually just shorter than it's supposed to be. Same with your neck. Oh and if you don't fix your posture soon - you're going to develop a hump."
Oh...a hump. Wonderful.
So after that and with some wonderful humming and body talking - she gave me a pleasant little adjustment and some exercises ("pretend you're looking up AND over a fence"). I ... felt ... OK .... for about a week until Miriam conquered me in a rousing game of "Queen of the Bed" and knocked that left bottom spine thing out of whack again. ("OH quit your whining ONLY CHILD!" was her response to my "Oh you just fucked up that thing!! Dammmmmnnnn youuuuuuu!")
Eventually it settles back into that mild annoyance back pain and only acts up after long bouts of walking or .... kickboxing. (Ha. Kickboxing. Me. Ha.) I begin to be careful about things like bending. And I also become that girl that can't sleep without my tempurpedic neck pillow and would just love pillows positioned lovingly in such a way that my knees are always lifted just so. Miriam took to pointing at me and saying, "Old."
(On a side note... I'm 5'4". Miriam is 6 feet tall. When we stopped seeing each other on a daily basis... my neck started to feel better.)
FAST FORWARD TO:
27 years and 11 months old - Monday, July 24th, 2006
I had spent the previous day at ComicCon walking briskly around the San Diego convention center floor and getting tuckered out. My back, in that left base of spine area, began to throb in its annoying little way but I paid it no mind. I'm used to this stupid nonsense now! But alas - I was not. After diving in and out of a tall wardrobe box (retrieving posters...not important to the tale) I made one apparently wrong bend and felt a HORRIBLE OUCH. When I scream... I scream silently. And I was afraid I'd just become one of those people that you see on TV sitcoms that say things like, "Oh honey I've just thrown out my back!" and then they proceed to walk around in a right angle for 25 more comedic minutes. But after a few moments of "Oh holy crap, what do I do!?!" I managed to straighten up and walked to my nearest parent and said, "I hurt."
Mother determined that I must have pinched my Sciatic nerve and instructed me to do an exercise that Catherine had given her for such moments called the "Hitch in your Get-a-long." It involved outward kicks and 45 degree angle kicks. I did this for a few minutes on each side and felt a little looser so I continued to do it every 10 minutes or so.
But the sting wasn't going away and I kept grabbing on to things so I decided I should probably use a cane for walking and standing support. Since my dad has a cane collection and my mom has bad knees... canes were more than available. I had a wide selection, in fact, and chose to use a nice black thorn walking stick from Ireland. (Mother's cane of choice.) That night I drove my car, went to a movie screening (of Little Miss Sunshine) and then went home... the whole time in pain. I went to bed sure that it would be gone in the morning.
Tuesday I woke up, got out of bed and still I hurt. But then I made the error... (well I suppose it would have happened at some point in the day but it happened to happen then... so I suppose I can't really call it an "error") ... of bending over. Bending AT ALL was so the wrong move and at that moment I experienced the STRANGEST FEELING I'd probably ever felt in my life as something very wrong happened. First I felt a shooting pain that traveled simultaneously down my left leg and up the left side of my body. My arms both went numb, I was completely overcome by nausea, my vision blurred and I started to fall and there was nothing I could do to stop myself because everything was locked up. Essentially - I practically fainted. (I have to say "practically" because I didn't lose consciousness... so "fainting" is still something I've never actually done in life. It's on the list of "almosts" and "near misses" along with black eyes and bloody noses... I've had "near" bloody noses but never a real one. Oh and stiches.. never had those.)
So there I was... on the floor... unable to move... in my pajamas.... behind a locked door. I realized that I was in a predicament. A painful predicament. After several minutes of the plain fear of moving I managed to retrieve my cell phone and called Brigitte in Minnesota who pep-talked me into scootching to the door to unlock it so that I could get actual help from someone who could actually help.
By the time I got to the door (a good ten minutes or so later) I was also able to stand so I calmly walked to my mother and stated, "Something happened and I think I passed out." To which my mother responded with a "Do you want me to see if I can get you in to see Catherine today?" "Yes, please."
(Another back story: Once I tried to give Miriam a piggy-back ride during a summer break from college. This was a mistake which ended in me stepping wrong as I threw her to the grassy ground - knocking the wind out of her and breaking two of my toes. Miriam begged me not to tell my mom what happened (she was afraid my mom would get mad because it was her idea and she "broke me") and called me a sissy-la-la for limping but I AM a sissy-la-la and the next day I was all... "Mom I think my toes are broken!" "Oh your toes are NOT broken you hypochondriac!!" was her response. But the next day... "Mom my toes are purple!!" led to her calling the doctor and taking me to the urgent care where I got my special shoe for broken toes and VALI-FUCKING-DATION that I was NOT wrong!! Queen Barb felt guilt for telling me otherwise.
A couple of years later - Miriam got pneumonia but just figured she had a bad cold and worked through it. Then she gave it to me and proceeded to call me (what now?) a sissy-la-la for whining about how I couldn't breathe and told me to go to work and just power-through it. Being the self-diagnoser that I am - I had my mom look up symptoms for pneumonia and said, "Yes, yes, I have all of those. I have pneumonia!!" To which my mom replied, "You do NOT have pneumonia you hypochondriac!!" Then after Miriam was mostly healed she called in a panic to inform me that her father had just been diagnosed with pneumonia and that she probably HAD given me pneumonia and that I should go to the doctor right away! I told my mother. She took me to the urgent care. I was once again VALI-FUCKING-DATED! (The doctor also told me that if I'd been any older I could've died.) I was supplied with medicines (which I was fucking allergic to!), an inhaler and a daily schedule for medicating. My mother was once again guilt-ridden.)
Back to the current issue at hand - I said "Ouch" - Mom said "How far and fast can I jump?!"
Catherine was able to see me within the hour so I got on some clothes (dressing without bending is not so easy) and we rushed over - I now double fisting two black-thorn walking sticks! Catherine assessed the situation and informed that, "Ooooh! You're in Category Three!" (I don't know what the categories are but category three sounded pretty bad.) Apparently - some joint had slipped out of its proper position (back there on that left base of my spine) and on its way down decided to pull a disc with it. And for the first time in my life I was given "doctor's orders" (note and all) to not attend school the next day.
My next few days were a flurry of ice packs, lumbar supports, pillows, Advil, slow walks in pajamas around the block with my double-fisted canes and I was never far from my easy gripper for picking up things like remote controls and strange robotic attempts at putting on socks.
(That's when I officially became old.)
I also instantly informed my friends so that they could roll on over to point and laugh in person. (This is how we relate.) (In fact this blog has been posted NOT for your sympathy but so that you, too, can point and laugh.)
My visits to Catherine were scheduled for every few days at first... and then a week.. to ten days. And each time she would hum and talk to my body and tell me things about how "your energy is trapped in your ovaries now and that means that you're probably having feelings of loss," and etc. (All valid, fyi, but not a tale I will share.) My category three went down to a two. I was given rehabilitation exercises (involving Tai Chi and yoga positions) as well as time to get trapped bad energy out and flowing again.
(For the record - when I am rich and living my life of luxury - I am SOOO keeping a holistic chiropractor on staff!)
And this, my blog reading friends, is where the "story" comes to a halt because we have been brought to the present. My last visit to Catherine was supposed to be the LAST visit. I know this because the second-to-last visit was when Catherine said, "So next time we should probably start thinking about setting up a plan. You're now at that age where you should start thinking about regular visits." Great - I've turned 28 and I'm "at that age" where my body stops growing and instead starts dying slowly.
BUT to throw a wrench in that "last visit" plan - I went and fucked my back up all over again at the birthday beach bonfire barbecue last weekend by getting all cocky and lugging around heavy things and running around in the sand. I'm back to a Category Two and, though "your joint IS stronger because this time it just slipped but didn't pull on the disc," I had to make a quick new appointment for tomorrow. And I think I pissed off Catherine in a "after I did all that work!" kind of way because in that last visit she hummed a little more agressively and poked and pushed harder than she usually does. (I had to ice after her visit but not before!!!)
Today... the damn joint feels worse... not better. I can feel it WANTING to pull on that disc. Apparently I must now live in fear! I must now heed warnings like, "People with a history of back injuries should not ride this ride." I have become THE LAME.
(Ahh who am I kidding... I was "the lame" already.)
- The End -
(of this chapter)
Friday, August 18, 2006
Bday Card!
On my birthday I received THE BEST CARD EVER!! One of Hallmark's new singing cards that featured a Fried Green Tomatoes quote on the front and the "Ghost Train" theme music when you open it!
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Random food, thoughts, ComicCon - all with Pictures
In part I now post this blog (at this time) to entertain Marlena and Alicia who are ALMOST DONE with their 24 hour blogging for this year's BLOGATHON! Great work girls (and guest posters)!!
So here's some random nonsense with camera phone pictures (and some other pictures too):
I've been dying to try this treat at Cafe 50's - Fried Macaroni and Cheese! FYI it's dumb. It's bland and you can feel your heart dying when you eat it.
I found this book in the student store and I think it's rediculous! First of all - it's thick!! A thick fucking book!!
Second of all - it has words. LOTS AND LOTS OF WORDS!!! I mean like a ton. No pictures. Just lots of words!
I'm certainly not going to read it!
Went to the LAUGH FACTORY last week courtesy of Taysha and her free ticket hook-up. (I only go to the LF when I have a free ticket hook-up... but it's still expensive because of that two-drink minimum.)
More than the comedy - I was fascinated with this chick:
(The one in the center in white.) She found NOTHING funny. NOTHING at all until the end when I think her gin finally took affect. Then she cracked a giggle at a dude making mob references.
Went to the Pacific Design Center in West Hollywood where Adrea hooked me up with a free screening of THE ILLUSIONIST (starring Edward Norton and Jessica Biel).
The movie kinda blew. Adrea said it best when she said, "I liked it when it was THE USUAL SUSPECTS." BUT the enjoyable part of the evening was actually going in the Pacific Design Center which was a new treat for me. It was kinda fascinating in there...who knew?! I thought the place was like an office building but really it's more like a hybrid between a mall and an Expo Design Center. But this pic shows off the best part - the cool ass rolly lawn! I want one!
Last Sunday was my trip to the Comic Book Convention where I was to finally meet the infamous Marlena and Ben whom I met on MySpace! (I already checked Alicia, Marlena's sister, off the list when I had a Vegas layover on my way to Minnesota a month ago.)
Saturday, however, was plagued with me realizing that I didn't have any Marlena/Ben contact information and I was supposed to meet them for breakfast!! Well thanks to the miracle of text messaging and Alicia - I managed to contact Marlena and we agreed to hook up for breakfast at her hotel.
So my bud Monica and I got up at the ass crack of dawn (5:30am) for a 6:30am departure to San Diego to meet the Halls for 9am breakfast (and we arrived early - sweet!).
Both were lovely and charming (and not scary Ms. Liar Alicia!) and I was SUPER talkative for myself (to which Marlena says "OMG you were totally quiet!"). (This is why I bring the back-up friend for gap-filling conversation.)
(BTW - read blog entry #33 for Marlena's side of this story: http://www.blueskycomics.com/marlena/archives/2006_07_01_lunchbox_archive.html)
After hotel breakfast with the waiter that hooked us up with free buffet treats (even though I'd only ordered "my favorite cereal") we panicked briefly about the cost of hotel parking and then said "Eff it!" and grabbed a cab. And upon exiting said cab as I was reaching for wallet to pay for my portion I realized... HOLY CRAP ... my wallet is missing! Wallet missing?!?!?! At the comic book convention?!?!?! This is a full scale alarm!
Monica, my keeper for the day, started ringing the hotel restaurant and our cool ass waiter searched but couldn't find the fucker. DAMNIT! NO MONEY AT THE CON?!?! Marlena and Ben had to scoot off because of their schedules so while we made a mad rush to the Con shuttle they went off their own way. So officially we didn't have a proper goodbye but text messages work just as well.
After the most tedious wait ever the shuttle driver finally boarded and we were on our way back to the Sheraton Suites. We arrived. My damn wallet had fallen out in the car. We grabbed a cab. Swung by an ATM for cash withdrawl and about an hour and 10 minutes from our FIRST arrival at the convention center - we were IN! (11:10am)
Monica and I did a whirlwind-last-day-of-the-convention tour and covered all of the ground (not spending a whole lot, not attending any panels, and only celebrity spotting the Incredible Hulk) by like 2pm. So basically..we shopped. But there wasn't anything totally new or super special at the Strangers in Paradise booth so I just came home with a SIP commuter mug and a grab bag full of books from Slave Labor Graphics. Ooooh but I did buy a pin from Tara McPherson (whose art I just recently fell for in a gallery while doing a stupid ass essay assignment for Photoshop class last quarter). She seemed unimpressed as I handed her my dollar.
By the end my back hurt in several places and we were loopy tired! We took a cab back to the Sheraton Suites where we lucked out and had to pay NOTHING for the parking (no attendant on duty)! (Otherwise it would have been $24.) Then we made our way to Old Town San Diego for some fine Mexican treats and then wandered the town... opting to skip the "most haunted Whaley house" because it was like 10 bucks and all the doors and windows were open to the small building because it was hot. So we just did a circle tour around the outside and made up our own stories.
Watering my ho.
So aftering declaring ourselves awake we drove back home to Los Angeles. (During which drive I rudely talked to Brigitte for most of the ride while Monica "slept.")
NOT entirely an interesting story... but ComicCon exhaustion and a little drama lead into another tale I like to call "Double Fisting." (Which I will post on another day.)
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Studying the Signs
(Photo by B. Campbell 2006 )
I'm a sign collector. I don't know why really but they strike me as funny so I snap pictures of 'em. I just came back from a little weekend trip to Minnesota and thought I'd share my favorite signs from the trip!
One of the few things I learned in the Midwest was about the fabulous cheese curd - a tempting fried cheese snack that is apparently... normal and available in several restaurants. I had mine from the A&W (another thing we don't have at home).
RavenWolf Productions 2006
Another thing that strikes me as completely fascinating is Hardees. Hardees = Carl's Jr. Carl's Jr. = Hardees. BUT NOT! So I took a picture of the Carl's Jr. "Happy Star" ON A HARDEES sign. In addition - Hardees was partnered with the "Red Burrito." Over here in Southern California the Carl's Jr. is partnered with the "GREEN Burrito". I'll tell anybody who'll listen about this insanity! This is nearly as fascinating as the Souplantation = Sweet Tomatoes phenomena.
RavenWolf Productions 2006
RavenWolf Productions 2006
(Photo by B. Campbell 2006 )I took a trip to Ausin, MN - home of Hormel and the Spam Museum (which I did not enter but how can you pass up an opportunity to take a picture).
RavenWolf Productions 2006
APPARENTLY - Speed bumps in Minnesota have a shelf date.
RavenWolf Productions 2006
Proof that Midwesterners say "Pop" instead of "Soda" like they should. Weird people those middle Americans!
RavenWolf Productions 2006
I *think* there'd be minor uproar about the name of this restaurant, Chino Latino, where I live but it was super good! (Plus... I hear tell that there's a Thai restaurant named "Poo Ping" in the city somewhere... so maybe this name would pass unnoticed.)
RavenWolf Productions 2006
And finally - here's a sign with a word that has a COMPLETELY different meaning in my area (or maybe just my sordid head). I forced my lovely tour guide to swing back around so I could capture this treasure!
RavenWolf Productions 2006
Hope you enjoyed that amazing set of travel photos!
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Stay off the crack
Here's a still life for your entertainment:
I call it "White Boxes". This is what Phen Fen did to me - it gave me an inability to finish what I eat... thus constantly leaving me with a full fridge full of White Boxes. Avoid drugs. I've been meaning to blog about this forever and now I have. That was exciting.
I call it "White Boxes". This is what Phen Fen did to me - it gave me an inability to finish what I eat... thus constantly leaving me with a full fridge full of White Boxes. Avoid drugs. I've been meaning to blog about this forever and now I have. That was exciting.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
TheCalmLake
WHEW! One of the 5 final projects due in Image Manipulation class. My face is in the tree - Dad's face in the darker tree. My cat, J.T., behind my Dad's tree, some local neighborhood trees and some stock photography.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
How Much of a Geek I Am
So brief insight into Erin-land here - I *LOVE* listening to audio books. Well not just any old audio book but specifically young adult fiction on audio book. Though I've listened to others (some Maeve Binchy, Fannie Flagg, Rich Dad, Poor Dad, a little Stephen Hawking and etc.) it really is the young adult fiction that takes the cake!
It combines two things I love doing - spacing out while driving long distances and reading... young adult fiction.
So I read the first Harry Potter book but then I re-listened to it and then listened to the rest. Like I can't just read a Harry Potter book - it HAS to be read to me by the talented Jim Dale doing all the voices and pronouncing things like the "Ridiculous" boggart spell as "Riddy-cue-lus" rather than "Re-dicu-lus". (Stephen Fry's rendition is just not the same.)
ANYWAY - so last week my dad and I checked out the fancy new Santa Monica library (our first time since it re-opened) and I celebrated the event by checking out "The Wish List" by Eoin Colfer (who writes the Artemis Fowl series... which I have not yet read). Today I got to the end (it was a short book) and after the the end credits whose voice did I hear but JIM DALE!! He was doing a little snippet PSA type of thing advertising the "Listening Library" (who also produces the Harry Potter audio books) and I got super excited!! It was like an audio book cameo and I just ADORE cameos!
Cameos are like God's gift to Erin! Very tiny moments of pure absolute humor and bliss! Ahhhhhh cameos. I still love Start Trek 6 for those 20 seconds in which a shaded Christian Slater says, "Captain, you're needed on the Bridge." Or even Topher Grace telling Brad Pitt he'd "totally phoned in that Dennis Quaid movie" in Oceans 12. Or hell... even any time you saw Hitchcock walk by in a Hitchcock movie or Gary Marshall dubbing over the bum's voice in Pretty Woman saying, "This is Sylvester Stallone's house right here!"
Anyway... just wanted to share.
Oh and special thanks to Leslie for having "The Wish List" on her Amazon wish list which caused me to put it on mine because it looked interesting and because I thought it was cool to have "The Wish List" on my "wish list" ... which then in turn caused me to pick it up at the library... leading to this small moment of joy in my day.
It combines two things I love doing - spacing out while driving long distances and reading... young adult fiction.
So I read the first Harry Potter book but then I re-listened to it and then listened to the rest. Like I can't just read a Harry Potter book - it HAS to be read to me by the talented Jim Dale doing all the voices and pronouncing things like the "Ridiculous" boggart spell as "Riddy-cue-lus" rather than "Re-dicu-lus". (Stephen Fry's rendition is just not the same.)
ANYWAY - so last week my dad and I checked out the fancy new Santa Monica library (our first time since it re-opened) and I celebrated the event by checking out "The Wish List" by Eoin Colfer (who writes the Artemis Fowl series... which I have not yet read). Today I got to the end (it was a short book) and after the the end credits whose voice did I hear but JIM DALE!! He was doing a little snippet PSA type of thing advertising the "Listening Library" (who also produces the Harry Potter audio books) and I got super excited!! It was like an audio book cameo and I just ADORE cameos!
Cameos are like God's gift to Erin! Very tiny moments of pure absolute humor and bliss! Ahhhhhh cameos. I still love Start Trek 6 for those 20 seconds in which a shaded Christian Slater says, "Captain, you're needed on the Bridge." Or even Topher Grace telling Brad Pitt he'd "totally phoned in that Dennis Quaid movie" in Oceans 12. Or hell... even any time you saw Hitchcock walk by in a Hitchcock movie or Gary Marshall dubbing over the bum's voice in Pretty Woman saying, "This is Sylvester Stallone's house right here!"
Anyway... just wanted to share.
Oh and special thanks to Leslie for having "The Wish List" on her Amazon wish list which caused me to put it on mine because it looked interesting and because I thought it was cool to have "The Wish List" on my "wish list" ... which then in turn caused me to pick it up at the library... leading to this small moment of joy in my day.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
The Lesbionic Woman - Issue 2
Here's my Image Manipulation "Midterm" project. The Lesbionic Woman is now played by Charlize Theron (as opposed to Clea Duvall in "Issue 1".)
Thursday, April 27, 2006
The_Lesbionic_Woman__by_Ravie13
My idea!!! Don't steal it!!!
All I really came up with, however, was the title. My friend Jeff has been plotting out characters and scenarios for the Lesbionic Woman - thus his name is first on this fake comic cover. The original picture was of Clea Duvall on the cover of "Glue" magazine. We had to turn in a "Rough Draft" of an idea for our Image Manipulation class midterm. So the real midterm assignment will probably look nothing like this.
All I really came up with, however, was the title. My friend Jeff has been plotting out characters and scenarios for the Lesbionic Woman - thus his name is first on this fake comic cover. The original picture was of Clea Duvall on the cover of "Glue" magazine. We had to turn in a "Rough Draft" of an idea for our Image Manipulation class midterm. So the real midterm assignment will probably look nothing like this.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Don't Steal My Soul
What do you do with a friend whose response to "Will you model for some pictures for me?" is "Only if you let me put a paper bag over my head!" ??
You take them up on it!
So this is the "Don't Steal My Soul" series. Hahaha... part of a "technical" camera assignment that I messed up anyway. (The non-paperbag pictures are the ones that I'll be turning in... these are just for kicks now.)
You take them up on it!
So this is the "Don't Steal My Soul" series. Hahaha... part of a "technical" camera assignment that I messed up anyway. (The non-paperbag pictures are the ones that I'll be turning in... these are just for kicks now.)
Monday, April 17, 2006
Little Wooden Goody Album
ALSO part of the 2nd Assignment in Image Manipulation class (we just had to work on two images). This is my friend Nicole and a pseudo album cover.
LaurasTangledKnots
2nd Assignment - practice using cut and move and erase and etc.
(This is my friend Laura and some of her tattoos.)
(This is my friend Laura and some of her tattoos.)
MulletsGetChicks
My first "painting" for Image Manipulation class. (I made this for Taysha... so it's in a style that I think T would appreciate.. and it is in reference to a guy with a mullet that she blogged about once.)
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Oops
OH yeah! In this blog I also never mentioned that I was accepted as a member of GLAAD's film nomination committee! This means I get to watch tons of gay movies this year and then score them based on impact/quality/plus more and then when it comes time for the fancy award ceremony - I'll get comp tickets. This also means monthly meetings and arguments with strangers about why I gave movies like V FOR VENDETTA such high scores. (We haven't had this meeting yet but I did give V high scores!)
First Day and Ro Ro
Today was my first day of school! Did I mention I was going back to school?? I've been pondering it for several years and even sorta "began" the program at the local community college but never could I find one of those career art colleges that would let me out of the Gen Eds until now. The Art Institute of L.A. is my new home where I'll be an Interactive Media Design major (they lovingly cancelled out all of my general education requirements by transfering in my college credits) ... hopefully learning flash and computer fancy design such that I can incorporate my storytelling need with some fancy graphic style.
I took Color Theory in the morning... Intro to Design in the afternoon. I was warned during Orientation (oh btw that was hella lame ... lame enough to make me say "hella") that the first quarter or so would be like "Art Bootcamp" and thus it was.
From 7:30am to 8:00am we needed to come up with a set of colored pencils and sharpen them pronto. The drill seargent... er... teacher than came around to poke us with them to see if they were sharp enough. I, in my panic, sharpened and broke and sharpened and broke my lame ass black pencil until it was half the size of all the others. OK... so he didn't actually poke me and he turned out pretty funny but... still. With that kind of warning you think you're in for trouble.
We then prepared to color in our color wheel "with perfection" ... no streaks allowed. The teacher laid out the colors that were in our set that we had that corresponded to the color wheel - things like "blue-violet" and "yellow-green" - telling us that since we had those two we wouldn't have to mix them. Of course I promptly forgot his terminology so when he came by my desk while I was stupidly coloring in the "yellow-green" with yellow and green and said, "You own that color," I mistook it as a "good work" and thought, "Fuck yeah! I so own this color!" And being modest about "owning" that yellow-green I responded, "Huh?" To which he responded, "that pencil is in your box." Oh. Yeah. Shit....
Then, during my break, it was back and forth and back and forth with my huge ass "Kit" which I vowed I would not be the stupid freshman carrying around but did it anyway ... while I checked on whether or not I passed the Computer Applications "test out" (please!), bought colored pencils, returned drawing board, went to pick up my ID, was re-directed to a different place to pick up my ID, learned that they mis-printed my ID, got a new ID, went back to the other place to get the "Spring 06" sticker... all the while texting Evil Monica that her stupid school sucked balls while she "Ha!" ed at me in response ... encountered Sneaky Sneaky Holly in the midst of ID drama while then half-tripping down the hall over the stupid rolling "Kit" and stabbing numerous people with the T-Square and 36" ruler that don't quite "fit" in the "Kit" as I passed them by...grabbed a tuna melt from the catering truck (there's nothing quite like a tuna melt to make me feel like I'm back in school)...returned to my car to eat my tuna melt in a state of momentary peace and then attempted to wrestle stupid "Kit", bag AND umbrella (cuz it was now raining) back to class 2.. Intro to Design.. where I was instructed to draw lines.
Huh? Lines?
Yes - lines. Now go!
Then THAT teacher roamed around saying things like "don't smudge" and "tape pennies to the under side of your ruler so you don't smudge " and "cover your work with paper so you don't smudge" and "wash your hands every once in a while so you don't smudge".... putting me in my such a smudge panicked state that I ... you guessed it... smudged! She also said things like "make some different weights' and "all your negative space looks the same" ... etc. etc. I finally just drew lines up the wazoo until she said "Good." "Now you're getting it!" I'm not sure what I got other than a bunch of criss-crossed lines. But apparently its good design. :)
Next class is on Friday ... but I still need a fourth. I might end up with just three. We'll see how much I can handle anyway.
SECRETLY (not anymore) I think that I just started school as a FUCK YOU to the psychic who told me back in November that I "should not go to college" because I couldn't handle it. Back then I was like, "Huh? But I already went to college and have a fancy degree!" And she was like, "Oh shit. Umm... Wow. I guess you can handle something when you put your mind to it. Meanwhile - I say work with animals!"
After school was my first "perk" screening relating to the GLAAD Film Nom committee. I got to see "All Aboard: Rosie's Big Gay Cruise" (or whatever its proper name is) for free. (Some of you are saying, "Uh... that's going to be on HBO. Big whoopiedoo!") Well it was a screening WITH Rosie and Kelli O'Donnell and some of the featured people from the documentary (which is about a cruise for gay families). That was good and interesting... I'm not going to give it points as high as I gave V FOR VENDETTA (31 out of 40) but it'll still grade high in "impact." Two things I was distracted by... 1) One of the daughters and her two dads that was heavily featured in the doc was ALSO heavily featured in the "MTV True Life: I Have Gay Parents" video I had to watch... so I was like "Get this overexposed bitch off the damn screen!"
2) ... And I'm the biggest geek on the damn planet here... throughout the ENTIRE movie I was like, "What the fuck is this score? I KNOW this score! This score is so Mary Stuart Masterson!!" until they finally belted out Scarlett's "Independent Love Song" and I was like, "Fuckin' A!! Bed of Roses??!?!?! Did they just put the score CD on play while they mixed???!??!" Later I told Miriam (who I mistakenly took as a date because she wanted to see Ro) ... "Jesus! I'm surprised Jann Arden's "Insensitive" wasn't playing!!" (SO for this I will probably give them lower points on "quality" since they are dirty dirty score thieves.)
Next week is KINKY BOOTS!
The funny sidenote is that I told my Godmom that I was on a film nomination committee and needed to see movies from time to time and her response was, "Well I'm home with nothing to do! Take me with you." Of course I neglected to fill her in on the whole "gay" movies thing.... so I figure I can take her to the more mainstream movies on our list of things to watch. Sooooo.... the next mainstream movie on our list of things to watch is BASIC INSTINCT 2.
I took Color Theory in the morning... Intro to Design in the afternoon. I was warned during Orientation (oh btw that was hella lame ... lame enough to make me say "hella") that the first quarter or so would be like "Art Bootcamp" and thus it was.
From 7:30am to 8:00am we needed to come up with a set of colored pencils and sharpen them pronto. The drill seargent... er... teacher than came around to poke us with them to see if they were sharp enough. I, in my panic, sharpened and broke and sharpened and broke my lame ass black pencil until it was half the size of all the others. OK... so he didn't actually poke me and he turned out pretty funny but... still. With that kind of warning you think you're in for trouble.
We then prepared to color in our color wheel "with perfection" ... no streaks allowed. The teacher laid out the colors that were in our set that we had that corresponded to the color wheel - things like "blue-violet" and "yellow-green" - telling us that since we had those two we wouldn't have to mix them. Of course I promptly forgot his terminology so when he came by my desk while I was stupidly coloring in the "yellow-green" with yellow and green and said, "You own that color," I mistook it as a "good work" and thought, "Fuck yeah! I so own this color!" And being modest about "owning" that yellow-green I responded, "Huh?" To which he responded, "that pencil is in your box." Oh. Yeah. Shit....
Then, during my break, it was back and forth and back and forth with my huge ass "Kit" which I vowed I would not be the stupid freshman carrying around but did it anyway ... while I checked on whether or not I passed the Computer Applications "test out" (please!), bought colored pencils, returned drawing board, went to pick up my ID, was re-directed to a different place to pick up my ID, learned that they mis-printed my ID, got a new ID, went back to the other place to get the "Spring 06" sticker... all the while texting Evil Monica that her stupid school sucked balls while she "Ha!" ed at me in response ... encountered Sneaky Sneaky Holly in the midst of ID drama while then half-tripping down the hall over the stupid rolling "Kit" and stabbing numerous people with the T-Square and 36" ruler that don't quite "fit" in the "Kit" as I passed them by...grabbed a tuna melt from the catering truck (there's nothing quite like a tuna melt to make me feel like I'm back in school)...returned to my car to eat my tuna melt in a state of momentary peace and then attempted to wrestle stupid "Kit", bag AND umbrella (cuz it was now raining) back to class 2.. Intro to Design.. where I was instructed to draw lines.
Huh? Lines?
Yes - lines. Now go!
Then THAT teacher roamed around saying things like "don't smudge" and "tape pennies to the under side of your ruler so you don't smudge " and "cover your work with paper so you don't smudge" and "wash your hands every once in a while so you don't smudge".... putting me in my such a smudge panicked state that I ... you guessed it... smudged! She also said things like "make some different weights' and "all your negative space looks the same" ... etc. etc. I finally just drew lines up the wazoo until she said "Good." "Now you're getting it!" I'm not sure what I got other than a bunch of criss-crossed lines. But apparently its good design. :)
Next class is on Friday ... but I still need a fourth. I might end up with just three. We'll see how much I can handle anyway.
SECRETLY (not anymore) I think that I just started school as a FUCK YOU to the psychic who told me back in November that I "should not go to college" because I couldn't handle it. Back then I was like, "Huh? But I already went to college and have a fancy degree!" And she was like, "Oh shit. Umm... Wow. I guess you can handle something when you put your mind to it. Meanwhile - I say work with animals!"
After school was my first "perk" screening relating to the GLAAD Film Nom committee. I got to see "All Aboard: Rosie's Big Gay Cruise" (or whatever its proper name is) for free. (Some of you are saying, "Uh... that's going to be on HBO. Big whoopiedoo!") Well it was a screening WITH Rosie and Kelli O'Donnell and some of the featured people from the documentary (which is about a cruise for gay families). That was good and interesting... I'm not going to give it points as high as I gave V FOR VENDETTA (31 out of 40) but it'll still grade high in "impact." Two things I was distracted by... 1) One of the daughters and her two dads that was heavily featured in the doc was ALSO heavily featured in the "MTV True Life: I Have Gay Parents" video I had to watch... so I was like "Get this overexposed bitch off the damn screen!"
2) ... And I'm the biggest geek on the damn planet here... throughout the ENTIRE movie I was like, "What the fuck is this score? I KNOW this score! This score is so Mary Stuart Masterson!!" until they finally belted out Scarlett's "Independent Love Song" and I was like, "Fuckin' A!! Bed of Roses??!?!?! Did they just put the score CD on play while they mixed???!??!" Later I told Miriam (who I mistakenly took as a date because she wanted to see Ro) ... "Jesus! I'm surprised Jann Arden's "Insensitive" wasn't playing!!" (SO for this I will probably give them lower points on "quality" since they are dirty dirty score thieves.)
Next week is KINKY BOOTS!
The funny sidenote is that I told my Godmom that I was on a film nomination committee and needed to see movies from time to time and her response was, "Well I'm home with nothing to do! Take me with you." Of course I neglected to fill her in on the whole "gay" movies thing.... so I figure I can take her to the more mainstream movies on our list of things to watch. Sooooo.... the next mainstream movie on our list of things to watch is BASIC INSTINCT 2.
In the land of Passive Agressiva...
I've decided to be more and more annoyed by my job. I don't know how I keep ending up with bosses that I have no respect for! (Oh... wait... I have a problem with authority... that's right!)
I hoped that starting school would get me out of this job by default but AndreaGotAnAche BEGGED me to continue working there and offered to work around WHATEVER schedule I could possibly have. UGHHHHH!! I started there with at least some delusion that somehow it was still copywriting but now Andrea writes ALL of the ad copy and I'm really just the "EBay TurboLister" girl! Plus the bickering is just god-awful.
Did I mention that I told Andrea I planned on supplementing my income by bringing in a "cuss jar"? She took this as my passive agressive suggestion (since that's the language she knows) that she cuss less or at least apologize when she does it... really I was just trying to be funny. I've decided she doesn't get humor.
For example - yesterday (while admittedly frustrated with the bickering in the background, the continued cussing and the frazzled Andrea boss that always comes in mid-sentence and then gets distracted) I said to her (while she was putting on her glasses and peering over my shoulder at the old e-mail I was attempting to sort and delete since she cannot grasp the concept that she is not allowed to use the online webmail site she has for our business) jokingly, "I hate it when you look over my shoulder!"
(OK... so I'm that girl that pretends to joke about real annoyances like, "Ha ha! You didn't pay your bills again and creditors are calling! Ha! .... What? I was totally kidding. Did you not pay your bills and those ARE creditors calling?? I had no idea!")
Anyway .. alright so I'm passive agressive too! What of it?!?
Continuing with our story.... for the REST of the day she made extra efforts to NOT look over my shoulder and commentated.
"Oh is it alright if I sit on this stool sideways and look in a direction other than towards the computer?"
"I would look in your direction but my eyes might accidentally drift over your shoulder."
"I appear to be looking over your shoulder but really my glasses aren't on so I'm actually not."
I finally shouted "ENOUGH WOMAN!" (This is true.) And tried to explain that my frustrated "I hate it when you look over my shoulder" was really my effort at looking out for her and the job by attempting to keep her on track and not distract her. (All lies.)
UGHHHHHH!!
In epilogue to this particular tale - she's requested that Pat take a week off because "she's been in a mood" and "she gets so angry" and "I don't know what's going on with her" .... uhhhh... DUH! Passive Pat is ready to blow at Andrea everytime she sees her because of all Andrea's backwards P.A. shit. Wouldn't you?
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I realize that I never bothered to explain why I sometimes refer to the "Lesbian Bosses" as "AndreaGotAnAche" and "PatGotAGuy" so here's why (and I will use "Katchoo" to illustrate even though this is a great insult to Katchoo):
AndreaGotAnAche (Picture as the above yet with frumpier clothing, older and with more smoke surrounding her body.)
Andrea is somewhere in her fifties and has apparently been suffering from years of no heath insurance... and righteous indignation. She'd rather complain than get anything checked out. Well ... I take that back. She's had stuff apparently checked out enough to know that its all a mess but hasn't had the finances or capabilities or Whatever to do anything about it.
She'd rather, in the end, be right. Her complaining is a security blanket she holds on to - my best guess. So the day is usually filled with shouts of "I shouldn't lift this but Oh Well! OW OW OW OW OW OW!!" Then she comes in to tell me about it. "See this thumb? It doesn't rotate! I can't bend it this way. I woke up at 4 in the morning with my thumb frozen in this position." OW OW OW OW "See my thumb doesn't rotate." OW "I think it was because I used to play professional level golf (Gay!) and my trainer used to jam my thumbs around the club." OUCH OUCHIE "See... I think its really screwed up today!"
Next Day
OOOCH OOCH OW!! "See the discs in my neck are trashed. I can't turn my head this way." OW OW OW GOD DAMNIT PAT YOU KNOW I CAN'T LIFT THAT "Y'see I keep telling Pat that my back is really trashed but Oh Well!" Etc. Etc. All Day Long
I ignore her. She'll just come to me to tell me what part of her is "trashed" anyway. The other day they were talking to me about how they were thinking about getting AFLAC and how they probably needed the cancer coverage due to their profuse smoking. *CACKLE LAUGH*
Dude - that's not funny.
PatGotAGuy (She's the blonde Katchoo in the background here - except without the paint and the sexy good looks. Also add a baseball cap.)
Pat (a.k.a. "PantsWearingPat") is the quiet one. When you hear her... you know you've got a problem. This woman - I think - defines her self-worth by her network. You CANNOT have a conversation with Pat that does not lead to somebody she knows.
Example:
Pat: What's up?
Erin: Not much. Just trying to figure out what kind of car I want.
Pat: You should buy a Honda. I've got a guy that works at the Honda dealership down here in Long Beach. I'll give you his number. But if you just want to fix your car I have a mechanic that can get you the parts for cheaper.
Erin: Well...I'm pretty sure I want a Toyota.
Pat: Well I'm good friends with the fleet manager at the Toyota of North Hollwood so I can give you his number. Have you tried Costco? Because I have a member to Costco....
Erin: Uhhh.....
Yet another:
Pat: Whatcha doing?
Erin: I'm picking out designs cuz I'm gonna have a hoodie made.
Pat: Well I've got a guy that does excellent embroidery. I'll give you his number.
Erin: Well I want this hoodie and they do the stiching and the...
Pat: Oh well I know all the great places to get discount clothes. Long on to LandsEnd.com and look in in their clearance section and then buy a sweatshirt from them and we'll take it to my guy who does the embroidery.
Pat's Got a Guy for every possible conversation you can start. (Nevermind that in both of these scenerios she walked in on me doing something other than work.)
And now you know!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
The other day I almost laughed aloud when Andrea handed me a minty sticky thing and said, "Do you sometimes get aches? Cuz this thing is amazing - you just stick it on and its like Ben Gay but cheaper!"
**Thank you "Grey's Anatomy" for the line that has yet to get old - "There is a land called Passive Agressiva and you are its Queen!")**
I hoped that starting school would get me out of this job by default but AndreaGotAnAche BEGGED me to continue working there and offered to work around WHATEVER schedule I could possibly have. UGHHHHH!! I started there with at least some delusion that somehow it was still copywriting but now Andrea writes ALL of the ad copy and I'm really just the "EBay TurboLister" girl! Plus the bickering is just god-awful.
Did I mention that I told Andrea I planned on supplementing my income by bringing in a "cuss jar"? She took this as my passive agressive suggestion (since that's the language she knows) that she cuss less or at least apologize when she does it... really I was just trying to be funny. I've decided she doesn't get humor.
For example - yesterday (while admittedly frustrated with the bickering in the background, the continued cussing and the frazzled Andrea boss that always comes in mid-sentence and then gets distracted) I said to her (while she was putting on her glasses and peering over my shoulder at the old e-mail I was attempting to sort and delete since she cannot grasp the concept that she is not allowed to use the online webmail site she has for our business) jokingly, "I hate it when you look over my shoulder!"
(OK... so I'm that girl that pretends to joke about real annoyances like, "Ha ha! You didn't pay your bills again and creditors are calling! Ha! .... What? I was totally kidding. Did you not pay your bills and those ARE creditors calling?? I had no idea!")
Anyway .. alright so I'm passive agressive too! What of it?!?
Continuing with our story.... for the REST of the day she made extra efforts to NOT look over my shoulder and commentated.
"Oh is it alright if I sit on this stool sideways and look in a direction other than towards the computer?"
"I would look in your direction but my eyes might accidentally drift over your shoulder."
"I appear to be looking over your shoulder but really my glasses aren't on so I'm actually not."
I finally shouted "ENOUGH WOMAN!" (This is true.) And tried to explain that my frustrated "I hate it when you look over my shoulder" was really my effort at looking out for her and the job by attempting to keep her on track and not distract her. (All lies.)
UGHHHHHH!!
In epilogue to this particular tale - she's requested that Pat take a week off because "she's been in a mood" and "she gets so angry" and "I don't know what's going on with her" .... uhhhh... DUH! Passive Pat is ready to blow at Andrea everytime she sees her because of all Andrea's backwards P.A. shit. Wouldn't you?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I realize that I never bothered to explain why I sometimes refer to the "Lesbian Bosses" as "AndreaGotAnAche" and "PatGotAGuy" so here's why (and I will use "Katchoo" to illustrate even though this is a great insult to Katchoo):
AndreaGotAnAche (Picture as the above yet with frumpier clothing, older and with more smoke surrounding her body.)
Andrea is somewhere in her fifties and has apparently been suffering from years of no heath insurance... and righteous indignation. She'd rather complain than get anything checked out. Well ... I take that back. She's had stuff apparently checked out enough to know that its all a mess but hasn't had the finances or capabilities or Whatever to do anything about it.
She'd rather, in the end, be right. Her complaining is a security blanket she holds on to - my best guess. So the day is usually filled with shouts of "I shouldn't lift this but Oh Well! OW OW OW OW OW OW!!" Then she comes in to tell me about it. "See this thumb? It doesn't rotate! I can't bend it this way. I woke up at 4 in the morning with my thumb frozen in this position." OW OW OW OW "See my thumb doesn't rotate." OW "I think it was because I used to play professional level golf (Gay!) and my trainer used to jam my thumbs around the club." OUCH OUCHIE "See... I think its really screwed up today!"
Next Day
OOOCH OOCH OW!! "See the discs in my neck are trashed. I can't turn my head this way." OW OW OW GOD DAMNIT PAT YOU KNOW I CAN'T LIFT THAT "Y'see I keep telling Pat that my back is really trashed but Oh Well!" Etc. Etc. All Day Long
I ignore her. She'll just come to me to tell me what part of her is "trashed" anyway. The other day they were talking to me about how they were thinking about getting AFLAC and how they probably needed the cancer coverage due to their profuse smoking. *CACKLE LAUGH*
Dude - that's not funny.
PatGotAGuy (She's the blonde Katchoo in the background here - except without the paint and the sexy good looks. Also add a baseball cap.)
Pat (a.k.a. "PantsWearingPat") is the quiet one. When you hear her... you know you've got a problem. This woman - I think - defines her self-worth by her network. You CANNOT have a conversation with Pat that does not lead to somebody she knows.
Example:
Pat: What's up?
Erin: Not much. Just trying to figure out what kind of car I want.
Pat: You should buy a Honda. I've got a guy that works at the Honda dealership down here in Long Beach. I'll give you his number. But if you just want to fix your car I have a mechanic that can get you the parts for cheaper.
Erin: Well...I'm pretty sure I want a Toyota.
Pat: Well I'm good friends with the fleet manager at the Toyota of North Hollwood so I can give you his number. Have you tried Costco? Because I have a member to Costco....
Erin: Uhhh.....
Yet another:
Pat: Whatcha doing?
Erin: I'm picking out designs cuz I'm gonna have a hoodie made.
Pat: Well I've got a guy that does excellent embroidery. I'll give you his number.
Erin: Well I want this hoodie and they do the stiching and the...
Pat: Oh well I know all the great places to get discount clothes. Long on to LandsEnd.com and look in in their clearance section and then buy a sweatshirt from them and we'll take it to my guy who does the embroidery.
Pat's Got a Guy for every possible conversation you can start. (Nevermind that in both of these scenerios she walked in on me doing something other than work.)
And now you know!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
The other day I almost laughed aloud when Andrea handed me a minty sticky thing and said, "Do you sometimes get aches? Cuz this thing is amazing - you just stick it on and its like Ben Gay but cheaper!"
**Thank you "Grey's Anatomy" for the line that has yet to get old - "There is a land called Passive Agressiva and you are its Queen!")**
Friday, March 17, 2006
LB1 Vs. LB2
Yet another impression of the battling bosses (on a good day):
LB1: I'm just saying...
LB2: Will you just listen to me for ....
LB1: Look! I'm just saying that...
LB2: Just. Just.
LB1: Will you listen! I'm just saying that...
LB2: Pat! Pat!! Just listen...
LB1: ANDREA!
LB2: PAT! JUST LISTEN TO WHAT I'M SAYING
LB1: I'M JUST SAYING THAT WE NEED TO BLOW THIS STUFF OUT.
LB2: PAT! You always do this! Just listen to me!!! You can't sell this stuff for 5 dollars!
LB1: This is stuff we can't even sell at the yard sale!
LB2: We didn't have this at the yard sale!
LB1: Yes, we did - we had one of them! I'm just saying that we need to get rid of it...
LB2: WILL YOU JUST LISTEN FOR A SECOND...
LB1: WE NEED TO GET RID OF THIS...
LB2: WILL YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME!!!! GOD DAMNIT PAT!!!
LB1: ANDREA I'M JUST SAYING...
LB2: PAT!! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE SAYING...
(This continues for 5 to 10 minutes.)
LB2 walks into my "office" and says something like, "If Pat would just fucking listen! I've lost yet another day of work because she won't just fucking listen!"
Last month I told LB2 (AndreaGotAnAche) that I was planning on supplementing my income by bringing in a cuss jar.
On a related side note - the work hazard involved in estate sales is that you constantly come across things that you want for yourself. Every day Andrea says something like, "We're popping all of these up but I'm keeping this lens for myself!"
Last week I discovered a beautiful 16mm hand crank movie camera that I would like. Today, an air brush spray booth and a box full of accessories. Of course I'd have to "pay the estate" for these items and since Andrea does the pricing (as opposed to Pat "let's just blow it all out") ... I can't afford what I want based on what they pay me. Sadness.
LB1: I'm just saying...
LB2: Will you just listen to me for ....
LB1: Look! I'm just saying that...
LB2: Just. Just.
LB1: Will you listen! I'm just saying that...
LB2: Pat! Pat!! Just listen...
LB1: ANDREA!
LB2: PAT! JUST LISTEN TO WHAT I'M SAYING
LB1: I'M JUST SAYING THAT WE NEED TO BLOW THIS STUFF OUT.
LB2: PAT! You always do this! Just listen to me!!! You can't sell this stuff for 5 dollars!
LB1: This is stuff we can't even sell at the yard sale!
LB2: We didn't have this at the yard sale!
LB1: Yes, we did - we had one of them! I'm just saying that we need to get rid of it...
LB2: WILL YOU JUST LISTEN FOR A SECOND...
LB1: WE NEED TO GET RID OF THIS...
LB2: WILL YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME!!!! GOD DAMNIT PAT!!!
LB1: ANDREA I'M JUST SAYING...
LB2: PAT!! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE SAYING...
(This continues for 5 to 10 minutes.)
LB2 walks into my "office" and says something like, "If Pat would just fucking listen! I've lost yet another day of work because she won't just fucking listen!"
Last month I told LB2 (AndreaGotAnAche) that I was planning on supplementing my income by bringing in a cuss jar.
On a related side note - the work hazard involved in estate sales is that you constantly come across things that you want for yourself. Every day Andrea says something like, "We're popping all of these up but I'm keeping this lens for myself!"
Last week I discovered a beautiful 16mm hand crank movie camera that I would like. Today, an air brush spray booth and a box full of accessories. Of course I'd have to "pay the estate" for these items and since Andrea does the pricing (as opposed to Pat "let's just blow it all out") ... I can't afford what I want based on what they pay me. Sadness.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
First Impressions
Things that happened at work today:
1) The boss lady, AndreaGotAnAche, revealed yesterday that she found some 16mm movie cameras in the estate and that some young dude was coming today to check them out. I was generally like, "What?? You had 16mm cameras and you're just now telling me ... now that somebody is already coming to buy them??" So she agreed to take me up to look at them before Dude came. Of course with her timing... I got to go up exactly 1.5 minutes before Dude arrived and in this 1.5 minutes I was also instructed to run down stairs and get some cleaning supplies so that she could hurry and wipe some of the dust off of the cameras and lenses. So there I go... down the stairs to the room with the "cleaning supplies" which includes some lens cleaner, some lens tissues and 3-4 old dirty socks which, until now, I'd been avoiding touching. Yes - they'd been using these dirty socks to dust stuff when they were taking pictures. SO - I grab the cleaner and 1 sock and run up the stairs where I'm informed that Dude has arrived and I'm now supposed to pretend to be another potential customer (which I am sorta.. but I guess he's supposed to not know that I work for them). So here we are... Dude and I... and AndreaGotAnAche (LesbianBoss1)... and Andrea is pilfering through boxes and suddenly exclaims, "Ewww... this tripod has gook on it. Do either of you have something to wipe my hands on? Anything?" Well... of course I've got a damn dirty sock in my pocket so I hand it to her. And this was my first impression with Dude - a potential future filmmaker cohort... who will now ALWAYS think of me as that girl who randomly carries socks in her pocket. And then just leaves them behind....
2) Later in the day Queen Ernest arrived. Queen Ernest is PatGotAGuy's(LesbianBoss2's) token flaming gay friend. Technically I've met him before (so it's not a "first impression") but he's still a kick. Today Queen Ernest was going through the record albums and as I was googling some prices for the 16mm cameras - these are the exclamations I heard coming from the album shelves (AND I KID YOU NOT!!):
(I love him. I want him for my own.)
1) The boss lady, AndreaGotAnAche, revealed yesterday that she found some 16mm movie cameras in the estate and that some young dude was coming today to check them out. I was generally like, "What?? You had 16mm cameras and you're just now telling me ... now that somebody is already coming to buy them??" So she agreed to take me up to look at them before Dude came. Of course with her timing... I got to go up exactly 1.5 minutes before Dude arrived and in this 1.5 minutes I was also instructed to run down stairs and get some cleaning supplies so that she could hurry and wipe some of the dust off of the cameras and lenses. So there I go... down the stairs to the room with the "cleaning supplies" which includes some lens cleaner, some lens tissues and 3-4 old dirty socks which, until now, I'd been avoiding touching. Yes - they'd been using these dirty socks to dust stuff when they were taking pictures. SO - I grab the cleaner and 1 sock and run up the stairs where I'm informed that Dude has arrived and I'm now supposed to pretend to be another potential customer (which I am sorta.. but I guess he's supposed to not know that I work for them). So here we are... Dude and I... and AndreaGotAnAche (LesbianBoss1)... and Andrea is pilfering through boxes and suddenly exclaims, "Ewww... this tripod has gook on it. Do either of you have something to wipe my hands on? Anything?" Well... of course I've got a damn dirty sock in my pocket so I hand it to her. And this was my first impression with Dude - a potential future filmmaker cohort... who will now ALWAYS think of me as that girl who randomly carries socks in her pocket. And then just leaves them behind....
2) Later in the day Queen Ernest arrived. Queen Ernest is PatGotAGuy's(LesbianBoss2's) token flaming gay friend. Technically I've met him before (so it's not a "first impression") but he's still a kick. Today Queen Ernest was going through the record albums and as I was googling some prices for the 16mm cameras - these are the exclamations I heard coming from the album shelves (AND I KID YOU NOT!!):
OH my god I can absolutely die. Sound of Music!!!??? Oh stop! West Side Story??!! Stop the train - I want to GET OFF!! This man was straight?? Annie Get Your Gun - two of them and they are both ETHEL MERMAN!! If I find a Wizard of Oz album I WILL DIE. Oh look at all of these Hollywood books. I love reading Hollywood bio books because I'm such a nosy queen!
(I love him. I want him for my own.)
Monday, February 27, 2006
Fake Authors
Things I learned today:
1) Carolyn Keene WAS FICTIONAL. This does explain why she's been around and has been writing FOREVER. Wow. I learned this by reading the dustjacket of this book today: Girl Sleuth: Nancy Drew and the Women Who Created Her I might consider reading it but ... why? I learned all I needed to learn from the dustjacket. Plus I only really read like two Nancy Drew books ("The Nancy Drew Files") because they had hot 80's guys on the covers. (I was a confused pre-teen.) I actually just found one of my Nancy Drew Files books in the garage when I was working on cleaning it out some more yesterday. (I also found She'Ra's horse and her boyfriend, Bo... oh and JEM... that was way more exciting.) Not to discount Nancy Drew... I was just more of an Encyclopedia Brown girl.
2) Winona was totally in on the whole J.T. Leroy thing and pretended he existed. (I'm not sure if this is true or if this was a "Oh I totally knew he was fake all along!" cover up for her own embarassment.) http://www.jossip.com/gossip/jt-leroy/ (And if you don't know about the whole J.T. Leroy thing... don't worry. Its all new to me too - I only know now because some chick from a movie promotion site was e-mailing me about the new movie based on JT Leroy's "life" - THE HEART IS DECEITFUL ABOVE ALL THINGS - because I have a Winona Ryder related website and she wanted me to post info since I guess WR has a scene or something.) (And if you did know about the whole JT Leroy thing - kudos to you for being on top of it!)
1) Carolyn Keene WAS FICTIONAL. This does explain why she's been around and has been writing FOREVER. Wow. I learned this by reading the dustjacket of this book today: Girl Sleuth: Nancy Drew and the Women Who Created Her I might consider reading it but ... why? I learned all I needed to learn from the dustjacket. Plus I only really read like two Nancy Drew books ("The Nancy Drew Files") because they had hot 80's guys on the covers. (I was a confused pre-teen.) I actually just found one of my Nancy Drew Files books in the garage when I was working on cleaning it out some more yesterday. (I also found She'Ra's horse and her boyfriend, Bo... oh and JEM... that was way more exciting.) Not to discount Nancy Drew... I was just more of an Encyclopedia Brown girl.
2) Winona was totally in on the whole J.T. Leroy thing and pretended he existed. (I'm not sure if this is true or if this was a "Oh I totally knew he was fake all along!" cover up for her own embarassment.) http://www.jossip.com/gossip/jt-leroy/ (And if you don't know about the whole J.T. Leroy thing... don't worry. Its all new to me too - I only know now because some chick from a movie promotion site was e-mailing me about the new movie based on JT Leroy's "life" - THE HEART IS DECEITFUL ABOVE ALL THINGS - because I have a Winona Ryder related website and she wanted me to post info since I guess WR has a scene or something.) (And if you did know about the whole JT Leroy thing - kudos to you for being on top of it!)
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
The Itty Bitty Titty Committee
I signed up to be an extra in a club scene for the new movie in the filming process called The Itty Bitty Titty Committee starring Clea Duvall, directed by Jamie Babbitt (who directed "But I'm a Cheerleader"), produced by Andrea Sperling (producer of Cheerleader and D.E.B.S.) and executive produced by Stacy Codikow (D.E.B.S. and the founder of Power-Up - a lesbian film/media organization). Basically - a lesbian comedy movie! (At least I think it's a comedy.) (And one thing I read on one day said Melanie Lynskey was gonna be in it too... but there was no meeting of the celebrity-me yesterday so I can't confirm that.)
(Scene from But I'm a Cheerleader with Ms. Lynskey)
Now just to be absolutely honest - this is why I, previously, loved Clea Duvall: Girl, Fucking Interrupted!
New reasons to love Clea Duvall:
1) She's so gay.
2) She's got chubby arms. That fucking rocks. (Don't tell her I said that.)
3) I've now been in a move scene with her which makes me ONE FUCKING STEP AWAY from Winona.
4) She's totally shy and quiet! Cheers for shy & quiet girls!
So to give you a full recap of my day - I woke, dressed in "costume" and gathered my wits about me as I prepared to go it alone to a movie set. (Give me Kudos! This was brave!) ("Gathering my wits" means downing at least two Pepto Bismol pills to calm the stomach knots.)
I arrived (not easily - I circled around about fifteen times before finally finding the parking and followed some funky looking lesbians to an empty lot with some shade tents and some sharpie-written signs that said "Extras Holding". I figured that was where I was supposed to be so I found myself a chair and "held" for quite a while. Apparently they were already filming a scene and the group inside were the early birds - no problem. The rest of us would just wait. Some girls came in pairs or threes or fours and some of us were loners who wandered around the lot aimlessly - visiting the craft services table often and pretending to not watch Clea as she came and went from the make-up trailer marked "The Band".
(FYI - I now finally have a camera phone and have a bunch of great pictures of a small indistinguishable "Clea in the background" but apparently you need a subscription to multimedia messaging before you can get those buggers off your phone.)
Extras arrived sporadically and we all waited to be called in. Some of us were "punked up" by a gal - some of us weren't. (I wasn't. Which either means I was fine the way I was or ... my steel-like silence and aura of coldness scared the punking girl away.)
Eventually, about a half hour before lunch, all of us that hadn't been used yet were called in to mingle in the background and cross camera while the star of the film, Melonie Diaz, was doing a scene.
The stars of the DAY, however, were Clea (obviously) and Jamie Babbitt. A few of us were just as excited to see her (and Andrea Sperling) cuz we're movie geeks. Alright - I admit - Jamie was not actually much on my radar before my bud Adrea started talking about her and Angela Robinson (director of D.E.B.S.) and other people I should know of but Andrea Sperling was! And I'll tell you why - cuz one of my Hollywood bosses is the daughter of her landlord and we tried to work that angle to get my old sound designer boss a job.
I also didn't know that Jamie and Andrea were so young... I mean they're older than me which gives me some life hope but they're only mid-thirties. I don't know why but I thought Andrea was in her fifties - SO wrong.
After the scene we broke for lunch - pizza for the extras and more mingling with the characters who'd popped in for the day.
After lunch we went back in for the major club scene and we pretty much stayed there for the rest of the day. There was a lot of bouncing, some "slam dancing," topless girls (Brave! Topless in a crowd of lesbians AND slam dancing!), and towards the end of the day - crowd surfing! I always wondered what it would be like to go to a club like this and once again I was delivered a reminder that everything I think is real is fiction. Does a club like this actually exist anywhere in the world? Maybe? Or maybe its all just Hollywood. Well Jamie crowd surfed a few times to show us what she wanted (and part of this was filmed so... this may be her big cameo in the film) and then eventually we handled Melonie like 25 times - (take after take) and then Jamie threw the topless girls on us for fun. (Poor poor topless girls. One of the colorful haired Vegas girls pulled off the topless task and I hope someone checked her ID cuz she looked 16.)
After a while... with all that bouncing and slamming and toplessness.... it started to get a little rank. And I felt like a shaken baby and needed an Advil like crazy. Luckily - Advil and hydration was previded. They were good to us - after every extensive jumping around shot they passed out waters and every so often passed out PB&J's and tacos and other munchies.
Clea, meanwhile, was in "the band" that we were all slam-dancing to and for most of the shots she played the guitar with her back to us BECAUSE she wasn't ACTUALLY playing the guitar. The lead singer of the band was one of those great hammin' it up types and she kept us entertained - especially when they asked the band to mime-play for a shot.
Clea was like "I don't understand."
Singer (I'll hate myself later when I find out who she is.) was like, "You were great. We were shit. They want us to stop and for you to keep doing what you're doing babe."
Clea: "I don't get it."
Singer: "We were shit. You were perfect."
Clea: "But I don't get it. I'm supposed to mime mime-playing?"
Last shot of the day was the Clea pay-off of the day as it was her turn to sing us a song. Apparently she'd been practicing and practicing the few strums of the guitar that she had to learn for the song and she apologized before hand because Jamie had bullied her into doing it but good thing she had therapy scheduled for the morning etc. etc. "I sound like shit and I'm not a singer." Then she sang her slow song while we all sat on the floor (because apparently that's what you do in mosh pit clubs when the band slows down) and I was a little more in the foreground due to my yellow shirt... (cross your fingers for my big movie debut = the camera panned slowly across the crowd). Clea had to only play half the song before sound was to cut out and Melonie and another actress had a longer dialogue scene. BUT - of course they needed a longer POV shot of Clea singing the whole song so she had to do that twice. We, of course, clapped and Ms. D was like "No no no no no NOO!!!" All in all she wasn't half bad - especially for the type of punk rock band they were supposed to be. It fit the day and the atmosphere anyway.
Then the band was cut and they only needed us "seated on the floor extras" for background ambience for a couple more shots and then we were done! We were given free L Word shirts, some Paul Mitchell shampoo/conditioners and some "Queer Net" boxer shorts for our time not to mention all the free food and the experiences! (The $25 dollars is going to be mailed separately.) I can now say I've been directed by Jamie Babbitt (and touched her butt as she crowd floated over me... not scandelously of course) and co-starred with Clea and the day is done!
My next goal in life, since directing still frightens me, is to write a movie that Jamie Babbitt will direct, Andrea Sperling will produce and girls will flock to be in for the fun of it.
(I actually sat down with my laptop hours ago to begin this process but instead I blogged.) (Oh well.)
Oh and the funniest part of the day was probably when the ambiguously gay "Lesbian Boss" that I have called me to ask me how to attach a picture to an e-mail.
At the end of the call she said, "Well it sounds like you're having fun. What are you doing today?"
Me: I'm being an extra in a movie today.
Her: Really???!! That's exciting! What kind of movie?
Me: Well, have you ever heard of "But I'm a Cheerleader"
She didn't answer me. Instead she cackle-laughed for about a minute and then said, "Well then I'll let you go."
(Scene from But I'm a Cheerleader with Ms. Lynskey)Now just to be absolutely honest - this is why I, previously, loved Clea Duvall: Girl, Fucking Interrupted!
New reasons to love Clea Duvall:
1) She's so gay.
2) She's got chubby arms. That fucking rocks. (Don't tell her I said that.)
3) I've now been in a move scene with her which makes me ONE FUCKING STEP AWAY from Winona.
4) She's totally shy and quiet! Cheers for shy & quiet girls!
So to give you a full recap of my day - I woke, dressed in "costume" and gathered my wits about me as I prepared to go it alone to a movie set. (Give me Kudos! This was brave!) ("Gathering my wits" means downing at least two Pepto Bismol pills to calm the stomach knots.)
I arrived (not easily - I circled around about fifteen times before finally finding the parking and followed some funky looking lesbians to an empty lot with some shade tents and some sharpie-written signs that said "Extras Holding". I figured that was where I was supposed to be so I found myself a chair and "held" for quite a while. Apparently they were already filming a scene and the group inside were the early birds - no problem. The rest of us would just wait. Some girls came in pairs or threes or fours and some of us were loners who wandered around the lot aimlessly - visiting the craft services table often and pretending to not watch Clea as she came and went from the make-up trailer marked "The Band".
(FYI - I now finally have a camera phone and have a bunch of great pictures of a small indistinguishable "Clea in the background" but apparently you need a subscription to multimedia messaging before you can get those buggers off your phone.)
Extras arrived sporadically and we all waited to be called in. Some of us were "punked up" by a gal - some of us weren't. (I wasn't. Which either means I was fine the way I was or ... my steel-like silence and aura of coldness scared the punking girl away.)
Eventually, about a half hour before lunch, all of us that hadn't been used yet were called in to mingle in the background and cross camera while the star of the film, Melonie Diaz, was doing a scene.
The stars of the DAY, however, were Clea (obviously) and Jamie Babbitt. A few of us were just as excited to see her (and Andrea Sperling) cuz we're movie geeks. Alright - I admit - Jamie was not actually much on my radar before my bud Adrea started talking about her and Angela Robinson (director of D.E.B.S.) and other people I should know of but Andrea Sperling was! And I'll tell you why - cuz one of my Hollywood bosses is the daughter of her landlord and we tried to work that angle to get my old sound designer boss a job.
I also didn't know that Jamie and Andrea were so young... I mean they're older than me which gives me some life hope but they're only mid-thirties. I don't know why but I thought Andrea was in her fifties - SO wrong.
After the scene we broke for lunch - pizza for the extras and more mingling with the characters who'd popped in for the day.
After lunch we went back in for the major club scene and we pretty much stayed there for the rest of the day. There was a lot of bouncing, some "slam dancing," topless girls (Brave! Topless in a crowd of lesbians AND slam dancing!), and towards the end of the day - crowd surfing! I always wondered what it would be like to go to a club like this and once again I was delivered a reminder that everything I think is real is fiction. Does a club like this actually exist anywhere in the world? Maybe? Or maybe its all just Hollywood. Well Jamie crowd surfed a few times to show us what she wanted (and part of this was filmed so... this may be her big cameo in the film) and then eventually we handled Melonie like 25 times - (take after take) and then Jamie threw the topless girls on us for fun. (Poor poor topless girls. One of the colorful haired Vegas girls pulled off the topless task and I hope someone checked her ID cuz she looked 16.)
After a while... with all that bouncing and slamming and toplessness.... it started to get a little rank. And I felt like a shaken baby and needed an Advil like crazy. Luckily - Advil and hydration was previded. They were good to us - after every extensive jumping around shot they passed out waters and every so often passed out PB&J's and tacos and other munchies.
Clea, meanwhile, was in "the band" that we were all slam-dancing to and for most of the shots she played the guitar with her back to us BECAUSE she wasn't ACTUALLY playing the guitar. The lead singer of the band was one of those great hammin' it up types and she kept us entertained - especially when they asked the band to mime-play for a shot.
Clea was like "I don't understand."
Singer (I'll hate myself later when I find out who she is.) was like, "You were great. We were shit. They want us to stop and for you to keep doing what you're doing babe."
Clea: "I don't get it."
Singer: "We were shit. You were perfect."
Clea: "But I don't get it. I'm supposed to mime mime-playing?"
Last shot of the day was the Clea pay-off of the day as it was her turn to sing us a song. Apparently she'd been practicing and practicing the few strums of the guitar that she had to learn for the song and she apologized before hand because Jamie had bullied her into doing it but good thing she had therapy scheduled for the morning etc. etc. "I sound like shit and I'm not a singer." Then she sang her slow song while we all sat on the floor (because apparently that's what you do in mosh pit clubs when the band slows down) and I was a little more in the foreground due to my yellow shirt... (cross your fingers for my big movie debut = the camera panned slowly across the crowd). Clea had to only play half the song before sound was to cut out and Melonie and another actress had a longer dialogue scene. BUT - of course they needed a longer POV shot of Clea singing the whole song so she had to do that twice. We, of course, clapped and Ms. D was like "No no no no no NOO!!!" All in all she wasn't half bad - especially for the type of punk rock band they were supposed to be. It fit the day and the atmosphere anyway.
Then the band was cut and they only needed us "seated on the floor extras" for background ambience for a couple more shots and then we were done! We were given free L Word shirts, some Paul Mitchell shampoo/conditioners and some "Queer Net" boxer shorts for our time not to mention all the free food and the experiences! (The $25 dollars is going to be mailed separately.) I can now say I've been directed by Jamie Babbitt (and touched her butt as she crowd floated over me... not scandelously of course) and co-starred with Clea and the day is done!
My next goal in life, since directing still frightens me, is to write a movie that Jamie Babbitt will direct, Andrea Sperling will produce and girls will flock to be in for the fun of it.
(I actually sat down with my laptop hours ago to begin this process but instead I blogged.) (Oh well.)
Oh and the funniest part of the day was probably when the ambiguously gay "Lesbian Boss" that I have called me to ask me how to attach a picture to an e-mail.
At the end of the call she said, "Well it sounds like you're having fun. What are you doing today?"
Me: I'm being an extra in a movie today.
Her: Really???!! That's exciting! What kind of movie?
Me: Well, have you ever heard of "But I'm a Cheerleader"
She didn't answer me. Instead she cackle-laughed for about a minute and then said, "Well then I'll let you go."
The Prep
I sought advice and I hath received advice regarding the bluing of my hair! The gist, as I understand it, is that I have to bleach the hair to make the doohickers rip open so that the stain-like fancy colors have something to hold on to. Something like sanding the wood before you paint it - OK I can grasp that!
But with only a few available late night hours before my movie extra debut on Monday - this did not leave time for another trip to the Beauty Supply (or a Hot Topic) for some bleach and a new batch of Manic Panic (or whatever I found to replace it). Instead I headed to the 24-hour Sav-On's and looked for "something funky" that "might work in a pinch."
I found this: L'Oreal's "Color Pulse" Mousse in "Funky Cherry" and the PRICE WAS RIGHT! (It was like 2 bucks.)
Funky Cherry was, alas, the funkiest color in the drug store. (OK so there was something called "Blue Denim" but that was 5 bucks PLUS I needed the 15 dollar bleach before that would even bother looking stupid).
Well - I took it home and applied it around midnight and while it was doing its thang I painted my fingernails a nice metallic blue. AND the mousse-dye took to my pre-existing (and I guess "faded" per my advice givers) highlights quite nicely. It'll wash out in 8 to 10 shampoos - so I won't be too stuck with it and I can give the bluing another shot later. Then I straightened out my Silverlake haircut and I was Good To Go!
Sunday night I accessorized and plotted out the "outfit" for my extra appearance - this consisted of my Funky Cherry red hair (mother is referring to it as "Maureen O'Hara Red" but I'm not sure), an eyeball necklace (I heart eyeballs), an Ankh necklace (I don't even know if this is mine but it was in my jewelry box so I went with it), a purplish earring stud (for those of you not in the know - I only have one pierced ear - I only needed one earring), a yellow ringer tee (they requested some colors other than black), some black jelly bracelets leftover from my "goth" costume from a few years back, my new "Brad" bracelet from N.I.C., my new "Dinky Dean" Neighborhoodie and some black eyeliner. Never before hath I lined my eyes - so that was interesting.
Then I checked my e-mail once again, got all the good parking info, got the very important message that I was allowed to sleep in a little AND was now going to be given $25. for my participation (not needed but a nice bonus) and went to bed! (Not promptly but eventually.)
Next blog... the tale of being an extra.
But with only a few available late night hours before my movie extra debut on Monday - this did not leave time for another trip to the Beauty Supply (or a Hot Topic) for some bleach and a new batch of Manic Panic (or whatever I found to replace it). Instead I headed to the 24-hour Sav-On's and looked for "something funky" that "might work in a pinch."
I found this: L'Oreal's "Color Pulse" Mousse in "Funky Cherry" and the PRICE WAS RIGHT! (It was like 2 bucks.)
Funky Cherry was, alas, the funkiest color in the drug store. (OK so there was something called "Blue Denim" but that was 5 bucks PLUS I needed the 15 dollar bleach before that would even bother looking stupid).
Well - I took it home and applied it around midnight and while it was doing its thang I painted my fingernails a nice metallic blue. AND the mousse-dye took to my pre-existing (and I guess "faded" per my advice givers) highlights quite nicely. It'll wash out in 8 to 10 shampoos - so I won't be too stuck with it and I can give the bluing another shot later. Then I straightened out my Silverlake haircut and I was Good To Go!
Sunday night I accessorized and plotted out the "outfit" for my extra appearance - this consisted of my Funky Cherry red hair (mother is referring to it as "Maureen O'Hara Red" but I'm not sure), an eyeball necklace (I heart eyeballs), an Ankh necklace (I don't even know if this is mine but it was in my jewelry box so I went with it), a purplish earring stud (for those of you not in the know - I only have one pierced ear - I only needed one earring), a yellow ringer tee (they requested some colors other than black), some black jelly bracelets leftover from my "goth" costume from a few years back, my new "Brad" bracelet from N.I.C., my new "Dinky Dean" Neighborhoodie and some black eyeliner. Never before hath I lined my eyes - so that was interesting.
Then I checked my e-mail once again, got all the good parking info, got the very important message that I was allowed to sleep in a little AND was now going to be given $25. for my participation (not needed but a nice bonus) and went to bed! (Not promptly but eventually.)
Next blog... the tale of being an extra.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Hairy New Things
I've been wanting to dye my hair some fantastic color for AGES but never had the guts. BUT I signed up to be an extra in a movie and the film date is on Monday and "dyed hair" was encouraged for the scene so I figured - WHAT THE HELL?! Now's my chance! So yesterday I ventured out and purchased some Manic Panic because I figured that was the thing that people with fantastically dyed hair did. I also bought the color that might lead to hair color matching my BRAND NEW MATRIX.
So now on to the hair dying - seriously I need a clue cuz this is how it went down:
Step 1: Excitedly envisioned the possibilities of blue hair and especially how it would affect the infamous Erin white stripe:
Step 2: Shampooed hair and towel dried. Excitedly envisioned blue hair.
Step 3: Re-read instructions. Followed instructions. FANTASTIC VISIONS OF "BAD BOY BLUE" HAIR!
Step 4: Waited 25 minutes (10 minutes longer than the directed time cuz my hair is a resiliant bitch). Rinsed dye out. Noticed that hair didn't look fantastically blue from what I could see in the shower. Waited for the "big reveal."
Step 5: "WTF?? My hair is still brown!"
Step 6: Desperately attempted to find somewhere affected by blue dye. Possibly determined that MAYBE the white streak was now a "cosmic blue" streak.
Dangit! What gives? I realize it has a better effectiveness on bleached hair but I figured it would have SOME affect on my highlights. But nothing. Nothing but this weird sort of darker haze appearance. I had much better luck when I ACCIDENTALLY dyed my hair purple several months ago!
So now on to the hair dying - seriously I need a clue cuz this is how it went down:
Step 1: Excitedly envisioned the possibilities of blue hair and especially how it would affect the infamous Erin white stripe:
Step 2: Shampooed hair and towel dried. Excitedly envisioned blue hair.
Step 3: Re-read instructions. Followed instructions. FANTASTIC VISIONS OF "BAD BOY BLUE" HAIR!
Step 4: Waited 25 minutes (10 minutes longer than the directed time cuz my hair is a resiliant bitch). Rinsed dye out. Noticed that hair didn't look fantastically blue from what I could see in the shower. Waited for the "big reveal."
Step 5: "WTF?? My hair is still brown!"
Step 6: Desperately attempted to find somewhere affected by blue dye. Possibly determined that MAYBE the white streak was now a "cosmic blue" streak.
Dangit! What gives? I realize it has a better effectiveness on bleached hair but I figured it would have SOME affect on my highlights. But nothing. Nothing but this weird sort of darker haze appearance. I had much better luck when I ACCIDENTALLY dyed my hair purple several months ago!
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