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So there it was. Driving up Gower (in LA) and the Hollywood sign could NOT have been more directly in my face. The studio for Six Feet Under on my left and my meeting spot on the right. The lobby didn't just look great, but it SMELLED great. Beautiful people everywhere. Camera equipment. And then the meeting. "Thanks but no thanks. Send me the next script." Gee. Thanks.
I just set up a meeting with a manager in Hollywood. The fun part is that it's in "Hurray for Hollywood" Hollywood. Not Burbank or Santa Monica or Silverlake... but old fashioned Hollywood. With the freaks and the sign and a security guard named Sergio. And if I asked Sergio for a headshot, I'm sure it would take less than 12 seconds for him to give one to me.
JOHN KERRY! JOHN KERRY! Having just come from finally seeing Farenheit 9/11 I am now awash with fervor to elect JOHN KERRY! Despite thinking what a twit Michael Moore was at the Oscars I am now reminded that we do indeed have a fictious president, and to re-elect that buffoon would be a real travesty to our nation! Being a resident of the electorally challenged "America's Wang" I have decided that since I live in a state where it has been proven that every vote really does count, I must take this opportunity to become seriously politically active in this campaign! If I can get even one other person to vote for Kerry... I could actually make a difference! Oh, and if you haven't seen the movie yet... go see it! JOHN KERRY! JOHN KERRY! JOHN KERRY! <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
<BR>I have just been on a big geeky emotional roller coaster regarding the in-production movie of "the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy" by Douglas Adams. This is probably my favorite book, and I feel very strongly about it. I am intimately familiar with the PHENOMENAL original BBC radio production of the books, and I don't think the movie is going to measure up. I just watched the <a href=" http://hitchhikermovie.free.fr/trailer_hitchhikers.avi">teaser</a> and actually became almost irrationally excited... then mere moments later sunk into Marvinesque levels of depression upon reading the cast list and learning that... gasp... American actors have been cast in several of the lead roles. This is like blasphemy... these parts are meant to be played by proper BRITISH actors... the only thing that could be worse than having Americans play the roles rightfully intended for Brits would be, God forbid, if they actually attempted to put on British accents. I mean for God's sake... Trillian is supposed to be from ISLINGTON... not San Freaking Diego!!! I'd rather listen to nails on a chalk board for 3 hours than Zooey Deschanel doing a bad east-ender! Ugh!!!! Ugh... <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
Tomorrow I work from 11 pm to 3 am - it's the overnight cleaning party. Upon my suggestion, we will start at Denny's at 9:30 pm to fuel up - and then on to the Buck for a massive cleaning project.
<i>You could come to my office and run around in your pajamas if you want, Sarah.<div align="right">--Kirk</div> </i>
<div align="right">--Sarah</div> P.S. in an unrelated follow-up question to Dylan... what ever happened to grocery store Crooked Bear? <i>Well, I have grown weary of reading about your password problems -- One of you write some new stuff! <div align="right">--Kirk</div> </i>
Everything from my home to my job has changed in the last six weeks. I am no longer an unemployed home owner, but a rentor who works at Starbucks (a.k.a. The Buck). It's good times at The Buck. And very poorly paid. But work is engaging and fun. Everyone else who works there is a child (like 22) so I have to wear my pucca shell necklace, spike my hair, and say, "dude" a lot just to fit in. (They all know I am an old fart dork - but they humor me.) For now... that's it. I am becoming the California writer dude with the coffee house job. At last, my life looks like a sit-com again.
Kirk has requested that either Sarah or I post something on the sidebar, just so that "our little tiff" isn't up for the world to see. OK number one... Kirk, you posted your divorce for public consumption. And number two... Conflict drives story. We are at a pointless crossroads here with three (THREE!) conflicting factors at stake. (And what stakes they are!) THIS IS DRAMA! (kinda) <div align="right">--Dylan</div> <i>Well, at least the previous description of "our little tiff" was punched up so it lived up to its AMAZING DRAMATIC POTENTIAL!!!! Dylan versus Sarah....FIGHT!!! <div align="right">--Kirk</div> </i> Wait... what? Tiff? What tiff? We're not having a tiff that I am a aware of, I was just being my usual antagonistic self! There's no tiff! I'm a lover, not a fighter... <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
<div align="right">--Sarah</div> <i> I think that Kirk made a few fundamental whoopsies in creating Dylan <b>and Sarah's</b> Pointless Sidebar. First, I am not a team player. Never have been. I don't share well. I don't think I'm selfish or mean, I just avoid groups and I despise "group-think." Secondly, Sarah doesn't lead a pointless life. Pointlessness is my deal. Sarah needs a Sidebar of Slip-ups and Mishaps. (i.e. the black sign incident on the "Titanic" cruise ship) SO... the sidebar needs change. Maybe a point and counter-point. Maybe it should be turned over to Sarah. But sharing in my pointlessness isn't working. No hard feelings. It's just time to adjust. <div align="right">--Dylan</div> </i> Black sign incident? And why does Sarah's slipup and mishaps interfere with your seperate posts? I mean, you had your fair share of not quite pointless as well... <div align="right">--Kirk</div>
<div align="right">--Sarah</div>
Dyl, Here is a totally unredeemable book about a completely awful and unsympathetic character who I can only assume represents how utterly reprehensible Ms. Bushnell herself must be. Read it, or burn it... it doesn't matter to me. Kisses, Sarah <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
So about 2 weeks ago, my husband gets an email from the HR lady at his job. The email was an invitation that went out to everyone there... to a party... at our house. Fortunately for me it said "spouses welcome". That's nice... I'm welcome to attend a party at MY house that neither my husband nor I suggested having, or even agreed to have prior to invitations going out. How thoughtful! I suppose I should be grateful that I don't have to clear off for 4 hours while people I don't know take over my home. Still... it will be our first party in our new house. That's kind of exciting! Odd... but exciting! <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
Here is an entertaining link to an eBay auction demonstrating how one man has chosen to do a little healthy venting during his post-divorce spring cleaning. <a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=4146756343&category=6#ebayphotohosting">Click Here</a> <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
I am currently enjoying a lovely extra hot, grande, decaf, non-fat latte, courtesy of my neighborhood Starbucks. It's a rainy and dreary day, and I am very pleased to be sitting at my desk, in the warm light of my desk lamp, comforted by my hot and tasty beverage. Additionally, while purchasing my beverage I had entertaining banter with the Barista. I believe the good people of Starbucks provide a wonderful service to the citizens of the world. Giving me the hot beverage fix I need wrapped in clever, semi-flirtatious banter... what could be better?! Cheers Starbucks Barista's everywhere... this one's for you! <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got! Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot. Wouldn't you like to get away? Sometimes you want to go... where everybody knows your name,and they're always glad you came. You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same You wanna be where everybody knows your name. You wanna go where people know, people are all the same, You wanna go where everybody knows your name. You want to go where people know, people are all the same; You want to go where everybody knows your name. <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
So... it seems Dylan is experiencing a little bit of pent up hostility, which has turned into him having a big hissy fit for no apparent legitimate reason. <div align="right">--Sarah</div> <i>REASON? You want reason? There is no loyalty to reason. There is no inherent truth to reason. There is just crap from people who you "love' and "trust." <div align="right">--Dylan</div> </i> Clearly, Dylan is upset at something, and I can't imagine what on Earth it could be... but I'm guessing, that whoever pissed him off... whomever that person might be... wherever that person might be... they know the wrong they have done! Oh yes... they know!<div align="right">--Sarah</div> <i>LIAR! <div align="right">--Dylan</div> </i>
I decided to make a pork roast recipe I found in a delightfully chic cookbook. It involved using my pressure cooker, and all sort of new stainless steel cooking implements. Very exciting. Feeling like quite the domestic goddess I pulled the roasted pork out of the oven and embarked upon the final step of the recipe... the apple sauce! The pork had been roasting in the pressure cooker with apple slices and liquid, which had all melded together into a wonderful smelling sauce. The recipe said to pour the mix into a food processor and blend to a smooth sauce. Not having a food processor, I substituted with our blender. I put my hand on top of the lid, turned the blender on and my hand was propelled into the air by the force of the sauce exploding out of the blender and all over the room. I squealed like the pig I was roasting when this happened, which caused Wes to run into the room to see what had happened. Stunned by the atrocious mess I had made, and my obvious incompetence with the blender, Mr. SmartyPants then attempted to demonstrate proper use of the blender, by repeating exactly what I had done, this time sending the "appley-pork nightmare" all over the rest of the room, his shirt, and a good portion of his head! <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
I got up very early this morning, and snuck over to my friend Eric's house. Using white shoe polish, I wrote a bunch of propaganda for the local high school all over the windows of his Suburban. His rear window now says things like "Seniors Rule", "Go Senators", and "Juniors Suck". The true beauty of this is that Eric is far too lazy to bother washing his car, which means the writing will remain on the back window of my 32 year old friends truck until the rain washes it away! And to my further delight, Eric, not remembering it's April Fool's Day, is now convinced that a rogue band of spirited high school students is roaming the city grafitting their enthusiastic phrases all over people's cars. Mission accomplished! Happy pranking everybody!
OK so like Candy - which isn't her name but I don't want to use her real name or anything - so like Candy isn't calling me about doing this one thing but I know she is doing it with the other people in our friend group - and by "doing it" I don't mean "doing it" but I mean like going to a play or whatever - so she isn't calling me and then someone started talking about doing this thing while I was there and she got really really really quiet and wouldn't look at me - or maybe she like didn't even care - but she isn't saying anything and it's not like I HAVE to go or ANYTHING but it would be totally better if she just said something like "sorry I can't invite you" because it kinda hurts my feelings more that she isn't saying anything than that I'm not getting invited. Whatever!
I realize that the avid reader of Kirk's blog has been subject to Sarah's sad and mad ravings of what "good" driving is for far too long. So I am here to save you from the smug with a dull tale of a long and pointless road trip. Tom's car broke down and so I had to drive two hours to Palm Springs to pick him up. We then drove two hours to Long Beach where we slept a whopping 4 hours. Tom got on a jet to NYC while I sat in Southern Cali traffic for three additional hours. Then I had crazy dreams sleeping on my couch while painters painted my bedroom balcony. Pointless... check Tedious... check Seeminly without end... check I'm back! <div align="right">--Dylan</div>
<i>"The law said the left lane on highways with speed limits of 65 mph or more will be reserved primarily for passing. The law will take effect on July 1. Owens said vehicles traveling below the speed limit often create real traffic hazards if they are in the left lane. The new law is aimed at improving both safety and traffic flow."</i> - Associated Press A certain sidebar writer seems to think it's acceptable to crawl along in the left lane, forcing other drivers to go around him on the right. Evidently the state of Colorado disgrees! Smugly, <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
<div align="right">--Sarah</div> <i>But you still have great hair! <div align="right">--Kirk</div> </i>Thanks Kirk! Actually, I did feel that it was a particularly good hair day, despite it all. I've been experimenting with the diffuser lately, and it's been a grand success all round! <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
"No, no... everything's fine, no cause for alarm," he said confidently. So on I proceeded to the Craphole Inn and there right out front was a policeman using his car door for a shield, pointing his rifle in my general direction. I stopped the car immediately and he yelled "MOVE... MOVE..." at me. At which point I frantically peeled out and drove away as rapidly as I could. Never did find out what the deal was... it certainly alarmed me though! <div align="right">--Sarah</div> <i> I just love this time of year. Spring has sprung. The birds are singing. The weather is getting warm. And everyone I know is getting a gun pointed at their head.</i> <div align="right">--Dylan</div>
"No, no... everything's fine, no cause for alarm," he said confidently. So on I proceeded to the Craphole Inn and there right out front was a policeman using his car door for a shield, pointing his rifle in my general direction. I stopped the car immediately and he yelled "MOVE... MOVE..." at me. At which point I frantically peeled out and drove away as rapidly as I could. Never did find out what the deal was... it certainly alarmed me though! <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
<div align="right">--Sarah</div>
I am in HELL... Hell apparently is a dank little server room on the Microsoft campus in Seattle, in which I am forced to work like a troll, 14 hours a day, for pod people who say things like "hey, I've got a great idea... let's all work late and order in food!" ... to which the rest of the pod people say "wow, yeah... great idea!" NO... you bunch of freaks... let's all get the hell out of here for a few hours before we lose our minds!!!!! Somebody help me!!! <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
Well the house is going on the market. Why? Oh mostly because of the money. The San Diego real estate market is going to stop growing so quickly and I want to get selling while the selling is good. But my real estate agent nailed it when she asked why I was so hesitant. "You feel like it's a failure." And she's right. It feels like I'm failing. Even with the money I'll make I feel like I am letting the house down. But guess what... the house doesn't care. At all. And THAT makes me even more sad. This must be what it's like to marry a Vulcan. No feelings.
Highway System</b> <IMG SRC="/journal.aux/2004.02.25.dylandallas.jpg" width="175" height="89" > A bit phallic? Only Dubbya's state could make a dick out of their highway system.
<font color=#FFFFFF> After some pondering and over-analysis, I have come to the conclusion that Mo left at least two clues of her marrital doubts via unconscious / psychosomatic conditions. (please image that I am now speaking in my bad German/Freud accent) 1) Mo LOCKED her wedding ring in the hotel safe the night before the wedding. She then FLED home (my words) only to arrive back at the hotel the next day with NO key. Very interesting. 2) On the honeymoon, Mo came down with a sickness that lasted for most of their first year of marriage. It took some sherpa-shaman-witch-doctor (again my words) to get Mo healthy again. She vas very very eel durik zca fist veer of di marreege. (bad German accent, remember) I feel obliged to mention now that I have always liked Mo and that I hold very few negative feeling for her. I recognize that she has had her own burdens to bear and (while I do actually blame her for the divorce) I would gladly hug her if I ever see her again. (The blame thing is mostly because it's my job to take Kirk's side even when he won't let her take all the blame. It's my obligation.) </font>
1) I haven't shaven but I like using the stubble to itch my hand psoriasis. 2) It's raining and sunny in San Diego today. 3) I am watching "Die Hard with a Vengence" despite it's weak title. 4) The cat is acting sick and I feel like I have a cold. 5) I am unmotivated because I feel so unmotivated. <div align="right">--Dylan</div>
Sarah was having a fine time filling in the pointless blanks when I came along and got all deep with my tragedy. So OK... something pointless... useless... of no point or use... ummmmmm... People use the elipse way too much...
I just wrote a long description of what happened to Tom in Palm Springs but I erased it. Basically he was held up at gunpoint. He's fine. And other than that, I really don't want to say any more (sorry Kirk). The world is a bigger, scarier, and more random place than I ever thought it was and by writing about it here in this public forum, makes me feel even more exposed - not to mention how Tom might feel about it. Repeating what a wise woman told me this morning... When they say, "shit happens," they really mean <i>shit</i> happens. <div align="right">--Dylan</div>
<li>Getting stuck in the plasters floor of the scene shop where there were no workers, no windows, and every wall was covered with "stone" and "brick" plastic molds. <li>Peeing in the metal shop urinal - waterless and smelly. (These people MADE Jurassic Park and they can't afford water!!!) <li>Watching the tour buses filled with tourists pass me by while I stood outside the Amblin Entertainment bungalows talking to Sarah. The lot is filled with fake reality - so I played along with my own fake reality. (Me as a Hollywood player.) <li>Getting lost in the backlot and realizing Who-ville ("The Grinch") is on the same street as the "Psycho" house. <li>Pulling up to The Red Roof Inn in Palm Springs just as Tom runs out having just freed himself from the ties placed on his wrists by the gunmen who held up said Red Rood Inn but got no money. </ul> Ummmm... I'd like a dose of reality with a chaser of normal. <div align="right">--Dylan</div>
Funny Kirk should mention fearing for his job! I have been fearing losing my job for the better part of 2 years now. It's no fun! I also constantly deal with the fear that at any moment someone is going to realize that I am a total moron and a fraud. A few weeks ago I picked up a copy of Folio Weekly magazine, and there was a picture of the Duval County Superintendant of Schools wearing a giant dunce cap with the letter "F" scrawled on it! <br> What kind of a nightmare is that? <Br>I fear I too will wake up one day and find myself on the cover of a newspaper with a big dunce cap on my head! <div align="right">--Sarah</div> <i> Now that I HAVE been let go of my job, I live in fear that folks back in Boston at the organization's HQ are snickering and saying things like, "Dylan wasn't really laid off. We just discovered porn on his computer and didn't know how to say anything. So we just said it was a lay off." I'M NOT PARANOID! I DON'T HAVE PORN ON MY COMPUTER. REALLY. REALLY REALLY I DON'T. <div align="right">--Dylan</div> </i>
I deceived a kindly old lady today. And I don't feel good about it! We're buying a house, and we're going to have to leave our nice little apartment, and break the heart of the lovely little lady who owns the place. She came over today and gushed about how she loves having us as tenants, and then I told her I had to go, that I had a dentists appointment. Though, technically, I do have a dentists appointment (in July), I actually had to go to the inspection of the house we are buying! I'm a deceiver! Oh god... what have I done!? <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
At work today I was asked to come up with an imaginary persona for some usability testing. We came up with the seemingly random name Bob Rickert and created an entire identity for this imaginary man. It occured to me to google the name to see if there really was a Bob Rickert out there somewhere... and sure enough... there are quite a few! This prompted an odd thought... Have all the imaginary names been used up? Fearing the worst I immediately began to try and think of new names... names never been said before let alone googled... the best I could come up with was "Baldzar Gargarfram", which I then googled. There were no results for Baldzar, but Google asked me if I meant "Balzar Gargarfram", as if it was completely obvious that I would have been searching for Balzar! Oddly enough, there were no results for Balzar either! Well... I'd say that was fairly pointless! <div align="right">--Sarah</div> <i> Pointless indeed. But hardly Sarah's first pointless story. <div align="right">--Dylan</div> </i> And almost certainly not the last! <div align="right">--Sarah</div>
I found a job that I want and that I would be good at. But I am left with the hopeless dread that there is no way I could ever get it. And I blame George W. Bush. If he did a better job getting the economy in shape then there would be fewer people looking for work and my slacker attitude wouldn't work against me. DAMN YOU W!
And why did her mother have to insist on anything? Did she actually want to keep it? Or think that she could? </font></b> <font size=1>(Sorry for that, Mo.) </font>
Kirk is getting fussy with me... I admit it, I have not updated my pointless sidebar in the last week. But doesn't that make it all the more pointless. The real culprit is my trip to sunny Palm Springs where you can still here Bing and Blue-eyes on the radio like it's 1953. Palm Springs is nearly as surreal as Vegas - there are hundreds of tall while windmills standing guard on the edge of town, a mini Palm Springs Walk of Fame (where you won't recognize any names), and coutless nudist gay resorts.
"Hey let's swing back around. I think that was a transgender whore." Does it make me a bad man for turning the car around to see if the prostitute was really a man? There is no doubt about what she was selling outside of the El Uno Bar. I swung the car around and looked again. (And it was a man in a bustier.) But I turned that human being into a sideshow freak for my curiosity. Or am I just a witness to humanity?
OK so there is this woman on eBay who has been selling country candles (and whatnot) for quite a while. She has lots of good feedback - but I am guessing she is NOT a silly grandma but a force to be reckoned with. Her most popular eBay auction: <b><font color=red>"Sister In Laws EXTRAMARITAL AFFAIR Photos!"</b></font> <a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=2981175128">http://cgi.ebay.com/ ws/eBayISAPI.dll? ViewItem&item=2981175128</a>
In a exciting turn of events (exciting for a bore like me), I have recently made Power Seller on eBay. WOO HOO! It means that I get a little star logo next to my eBay name. It's an elite club (of thousands). And of all the benefits that I get from it (mostly just e-mail support from eBay staff and that logo I mentioned), the strangest one is qualifying for (self-paid) health insurance for me and my staff (of which I have none). Who knew? I sell a few wallets... I brake my leg... and it's a wash. To see said logo (and my store listings), go to: <a href="http://www.stores.ebay.com/snappysmercantile">stores.ebay.com/ snappysmercantile</a>.
<font size=5>Tromping Through TJ</font> The scariest part of buying medication in Tijuana (TJ), is simply how easy and safe it is. It was clearly more dangerous tromping through the rubble and ruined sidewalks towards the taco stand once we had completed our narcotics transaction. I don't pretend to know the ins-and-outs of the US healthcare fiasco, but in Mexico I can get a doctor's exam and prescription drugs for a year for $80 cash. In the US, my copays alone would have totaled $250 - I have no idea what the actual cost to the insurance companies is. But it's probably $80.
<font size=5>The Mexican <i>Doctora</i></font> Just like most Americans, I have been to a variety of doctors in my life. Dr. Leach my pediatrician, Dr. Kramer in Boston, Dr. Marin in San Diego... and I can't forget those nameless, faceless clinic and ER docs I have seen throughout my life of food poisoning and broken glass. But I never would have imagined that a most thorough and complete exam would have taken place in Tijuana. And it didn't - for me. But I was witness to a friend's examination in Mexico that would put any doctor in my past to shame. My friend, suddenly without insurance, was running out of her "crazy" pills. They are very expensive in San Diego, but with a 15 minute drive and walk over the boarder, they are affordable. But you still need a prescription to get them in Mexicol - you have to visit a Mexican doc. So we did. And let me just say... Dr. Esmeralda (60 year-old female doc in Tijuana) gets some major points and broke some serious prejudices in my book.
<font size=5><b>The Tijuana Clink</b></font> For those of you who want to read about my trip to a Tijuana jail, read no further. I didn't go. But I <b>was</b> in Tijuana today, and I did legitimately fear that I could end up in jail. Now granted, it was my neurotic, girly head that went there - but I did see an actual path to the <i>The Tijuana Clink</i>. It all involves unemployment, pills for anxiety, and a Mexican pharmacist who took me and a friend on a little trip. Read more in the next installment of my Pointless Sidebar!!! <i><font size=1>Oh great, not only are these pointless stories, Dylan is dragging them out in a self-important manner.</i></font>
<font color="green"><b>Dork alert! Dork alert!</font></b> I am watching PBS and logged onto <a href="www.nasa.com">www.nasa.com</a> completely absorbed in our successful mission to Mars. But I am giggling about the (now lame) attempt of PBS to build tension in their programming - Will the rover land? Can we handle the crater? YES. YES WE CAN. AND I AM A DORK. CAN I GO TO MARS?
I feel like Kirk... (finding cool links and all) Here is a nifty New Year's <a href="http://www.lares.dti.ne.jp/%7Eyugo/storage/monocrafts_ver3/03/index.html">countdown clock</a>.
Making a house feel like a home... I have not had a functional heater in my living room since I moved into my house 2.5 years ago. A heater? In San Diego? Indeed! <a href="http://www.weather.com/outlook/sports/climatology/monthly/USCA0982?from=search" target="_blank">(Check out the lows.)</a> Now, I will grant that the lowest temp in SD is still above freezing, but when it's 42 degrees in my living room, it's not homey. So, I got the heater fixed (side note: we should all just go to trade school and retire early) and my house feels more like a home. AWWWWWWWW!!!!
In response to Kirk's entry about the <a href="/viewblog/?date=2003.12.10">anemic Kermits at BN</a> ... They do look sick, but I had a very odd interaction with a semi-offended B&N employee who told me that it was the trend to "white-out" characters for the holiday season. I guess Disney did it with Pooh and Eeyore. It's just so sad. Kermmie looks sick.
What the hell happened??? I was using the restroom at Starbucks and found the following "crime scene." There was a bottle of restaurant soy sauce (it had the funny pour top you find in restaurants) on the back of the toilet and a puddle of soy sauce on the floor. Why? And it's very unusual to find a puddle of brown liquid in the bathroom - even if it is soy sauce.
This afternoon, I had a dream about cleaning my floor. Is that how shallow my subconscious is? At least when I dream about peeing, I really have to pee. Am I so neurotic that I have put cleaning in the same category as the basic necessities of life? My pyramid needs adjustment.
Overheard at the gym... Two men coming out of the shower. "Hey that's my towel, Ted." "Sorry Bill. I guess I have the blue one." "That's right. Mine is green." "Better than if it were pink." If these guys want to avoid "homo" situations, they shouldn't use the shower at the YMCA.
California Holiday Two elderly Mormons, a 76-year old Columbia liberal, a gay couple, a sterile straight couple, and Ralph. That was my Thanksgiving. Family and friends for sure... certainly not Normal Rockwell. But who has one of those anyway? P.S. The "Normal" was an honest Freudian slip. How funny.
Went to Vegas this past weekend. There is a reason why we have a movie and a song named "Leaving Las Vegas." I just don't know exactly why. I could say it's the absurd lights, leaping water, chapped lips, or shark shows. But frankly I can't put my finger on it but to say, leaving Las Vegas is like waking up from a dream and saying, "You won't believe the dream I just had!"
Bad news for a friend yesterday... she got fired. Over e-mail. E-MAIL. And for calling in sick. The whole thing is just wrong. But this feeds into my "Psych 101" philosophy of how we treat other human beings. Typical experimental psychology... If you can see another person - physically SEE them - you are less likely to give them an electric shock for doing something wrong. Once a curtain drops - and you can't see the person - you start zapping without a care in the world. And my friend just got zapped over e-mail.
IRS follow up... They were so nice. I mean pleasant and humorous and understanding... I felt like I was at Nordstrom. Happily giving too much money (for a decent product) to a well trained service agent. They have put the SERVICE back in IRS.
Ooops! I made a little whoopsie with the IRS last year. And in an effort to ruin a perfectly good Saturday, I summoned the courage to call them today and just fix the problem. Ummmmmmm.... they're closed on the weekends? It's the modern age. They should be open until 5 on Saturdays. Can I blame Bush for this?
<font color="orange">When the super-rich get freaky on Halloween!</font> Spend Halloween night in LA at a friend's house in a fancy-dancy part of greater LA (Santa Monica near Montana). Just a few streets away, some neighbors put on a MASSIVE power point presentation in their front yard about damnation. And they handed out tootsie-pops with "scary" pamphlets about "hell is worse than being attacked by a T-rex." It was the spookiest thing I've seen in years.
Stephen King Creepy in San Diego So all of San Diego is bathed in a creepy red light from the sun trying to shine through the ash of the forest fires east of here. The sky is grey and streaked in black. The light is orange. The air is filled with falling ash. and it's quiet. Very very quiet.
Walking through OB today (Ocean Beach) - a mecca for surfers and slackers - my friend Laureen pointed out a pile a AAA batteries just sitting on a bench. Not 2. Not 5. But like 18. Why? What happened there?
Low and behold, www.kisrael.com is not the only web page that features both me and the Monsenior Israel. 1) Go to Google. 2) Type glens falls 3) Look under photos and you will see me and Kirk wearing our 6th grade geek chic in full force.
When my printer ink cartridge "expires" is that just a way of making me spend more money? Do I now have to race against some two-year time clock in order to maximize the cost of printer ink. Balance out when I print... Is it worth it to print this page with all that blue? Can I wait until the magenta ink is lower than the cyan? Down with HP printers!
Calling all recalls... calling all recalls... My vote: No and the Green Party Guy. What, that's just giving the election to Arnold. Indeed it is. But I would rather see a viable third party twenty years from now, than Cruz in Sacramento for the next 24 months plodding along in the same old way.
Is is wrong to be hungover on your last day of work? ... Or is it worse to stay up until 4am on your last day of work?
Is is wrong to be hungover on your last day of work?
I attended a San Diego Chargers Football game over the weekend and could not help but notice how gay I thought everything was. By gay, I do in fact mean homosexual. In my world, buffed-up men with no shirts, sporting goatees, walking in pairs, means that I am in Hillcrest or West LA. To me, it means these men were just participating in and/or about to be participating in some sort of man-man action. So OK, they probably weren't all gay. (But we all know at least two or three of them have something in their past they DON'T talk about.) Trust me on this one, the gay community is not deliberately mimicking the straight world to this extent. I can't image the str8s are looking to be more fashionable. So did these mirror vanities arise on their own in their respective worlds? And as much as straight men don't want to look gay, gay men would be much more upset thinking they looked legitimately straight.
<font size="7">Looking for a job sucks!</font> <br> <br> <br>
OMG! I'm so squished, and then I have 4 books that I am carrying and my jacket. I just hope my dad remembers to come @ like 4:55 and not after. Write back. Don't forget to get online like @ 6:30. that's the time I told the "wanna-be"s HeHe. =) Sorry for writing sloppy. Don't let the bus driver see you pass me back the note cuz we will get in trouble.
I had a small bag of car-trash (empty soda bottles, scraps of paper, old gum...) ready to go in a trash can. I found a bin and tied the bag to toss it away. As I approached, another man looked at me and then reached into the can and started to sift through the refuse. So there I was... we both knew I had a bag of garbage. I was just a few feet from my good-looking car and he was... picking through garbage. My instinct was to offer him my trash - there were some good bottles in my bag. I didn't. But was it rude to silently drop my trash and walk away? Emily Post needs to write some advice about vagrant etiquette.
My friend Kim (who has been angry for not mentioning her to date) just graduated with her MBA. And this isn't some Time-Life Books version of a mail-order MBA but a degree from Simmons College. And her first venture now that she has many letters following her last name (which last name? I don't know because she has and uses two indiscriminately)... her first venture is to sell STICKERS on eBay. Side note: Been watching the first season of The West Wing on Bravo. I love it all over again.
By the end of the month... Tom will be in Massachusetts performing Titanic. Sarah will have moved to Florida. My night class will be done. I won't have a job.
Sarah has just pointed out that our dear host Kirk could, in fact, just be Geena Davis in drag. <img src="/journal.aux/2003.08.25.dylan-kirk.jpg" width="100" height="120"><br> <img src="/journal.aux/2003.08.25.dylan-geena.jpg" width="100" height="105"><br> You decide!
How long will two pennies remain un-picked up in front of an ATM? (I noticed them last night in downtown San Diego.) I am guessing the thrill of finding money is diminished by the ATM. Yeah yeah yeah... cash from the ATM is not free, but two cents seems so silly when taking out $40.
Ring ring ring "Hello, this is Dylan." "Please hold for Mr. So-and-so."
<b>The snowball survived hell!</b> Last month I finished a script in haste and sent it to a big agency in Hollywood. Yesterday, I got word they liked it. There are thousands of writers in Los Angeles that are working very hard to catch a break, find an agent, and get paid writing. I just budged into the front of a very long line.
At Chili's Restaurant tonight, my waiter suggested that I NOT order the chili. Sad. Very sad, indeed.
In television advertisements... A park ranger pours Metamucil mix into Old Faithful. Text on screen... "Please follow Park Service rules." Desitin ad tells viewers about the recommendation from "baby doctors." How stupid is the general public? Or how paranoid are corporations?
Brush with celebrity... Doing anything in LA can land you in the awkward position of running into a minor celebrity. I am "lucky" enough to have such an experience on a weekly basis now. One of the minor characters from last year's Spider-man is in my class. (A screenwritting class). And what can I say... he played a big, dumb jock in the movie. And he seems to actually have a head on his shoulders... but he was the big, dumb jock. What am I supposed to say? "Gee the scene where you punch Toby MacGuire really changed me as a person."
For me, sitting around the house on a perfect Saturday can either be relaxing and fun, depressing and dreary, or a combination of the two. The might start well with tea and pancakes but spiral down ending in a TBS broadcast of The Goonies and Doritos. Lucky for me the day did start with the tea and pancakes. No downward spiral. Maybe it's my new wireless access to the internet keeping me happy.
<i>Big Bad Meeting at Work</i> Some people will lose their jobs. Am I one of them? For now, it seems, I am not.
Although an incomparable experience, sitting behind the <a href="http://www.end.com/~jynx/travel/kauai/day5/08falls.jpg" target="_blank">Wailua Falls</a> - actually sitting BEHIND them in the pool at the bottom - was made all the better because these were featured in the opening sequence of Fantasy Island. And what is a vacation spot if it hasn't been shouted at by a midget? "Da plane, boss. Da plane." And that makes it all the better.
Personal Note to Kirk... Hi Kirkles, Got your voice mail. I am in Hawaii on vacation. Sadly, I don't have any specific plans for the lake house but I am thinking probably September 6-7. Hi to Mo. Snappy P.S. Kaua'i is great. And our first outing today... Wal-Mart!
<b>What's up with the pointless sidebar?</b> Why so few entries lately. For all of my loyal fans (3) I must alopogize for the infrequent posting to the pointless sidebar. I am sure Kirk has been muttering, "Pointless doesn't mean inactive, Dylan." Life ran away on me. The good news is that I have been given the opportunity to send a full script (not a summary or outline) to a huge agency in Hollywood. Thanks to a former producer of Frasier (who took pity on me as a struggling writer) I was offered this one chance in hell. More pointless points coming soon!
Bottleneck of thoughts: cLaSs.WOrk!inSURaNcE.BillS!webSiTe.EbAY!CaSh.dRiVE. ARRRRRGGGGGG!
Just a rambling of thoughts today... My new laptop (refurbished and purchased on eBay) is ready to get picked up. I just got back from an eBay conference in Orlando - humidity is yucky. I love our modern world where I could run my life from the free internet computers set up at eBay Live. I am wearing some new clog-like shoes from LL Bean and loving them. I have crossed over the line to a part-time coffee drinker - though I don't want run-of-the-mill, low-class coffee - I am into drinking Americanos (espresso with hot water).
Overheard outside of my office: "I had to give the inspector a tour of the house and he showed my how all of the food had been bagged in the wrong way." Huh?
Recent exchange with WaMu bank rep on phone: WaMu: (lots of attitude) I guess I will have to pull up the ARCHIVES. Me: (patience gone) Maybe I should hang up and talk to someone else. It sounds like that is a lot of trouble and doing it will just annoy you. WaMu: Oh no. That's not why. Click.
This is the note I found taped to the WINDOW of the door to my DARK office: Dear Suite E: Please do not leave your Halogen Lamp on unattended as they are known to catch fire. Thank you. - Your concerned neighbors When I asked these neighbors about the note, I was told, "Somehow the light turned off by itself." Ummmm no... I turned the light off. Impersonal AND crazy; what a fun combo!
Off the top of my head... Now that I met the first baby of my last girlfriend (meaning the last one I will ever have) I have a growing parental call. Hydrogen peroxide is a miracle worker. Sand is a bitch to get out of a car's carpeting. Denny's best item is the Moons Over My-Hammy - not just because the name makes me giggle but because it's tasty!
In Boston this week... Staying at the Sheraton in Harvard Square. It's an old, hot hotel with a hard bed and chairs so old I dare not guess as to the number of bare asses that have attempted to stain the fabric. But whatever that number is, it is one more today than it was yesterday.
May 20, 2003 Comparing Kirk's old photo with his new one... I would say the $4,500 for the nose job was worth it!
Saw the Matrix... Let's first say I have never liked the name... The Matrix Reloaded. Come on. For 100 million smackaroos I would have found a more striking title. As for the rest... eh. They went too far going up the digital twat of that hot chick eating cake. The superman stunts were uninspired - and a cheap way out of too many jams. And the matrix doesn't seem all too complex. What really seems to be happening is no different than your average showing of Days of Our Lives. Instead of beautiful people fighting with each other, it's... beautiful people fighting some damn petty machines. Sheesh. Program out the drama.
Sarah's warped interpretation of Pedeorology: Using children's SOULS to predict the weather.
My heavy pockets Force me to use a man-purse Heavy is the shame
It was odd, but not quite as odd as the painter who left me a note in my old apartment back in Boston. "Changing the color can change how the molecules make our future."
When I was 12 or 13 his Dad taught me to cook home-made dog treats and gave me a wooden cooking spoon. To this day, the thought of either one of those makes me remember him. And I use wooden cooking spoons often. I've always wondered if his Dad knew more about me than I did at that time.
I caught someone in a lie yesterday. I didn't mean to. I wasn't grilling them about the truth. We were having a pleasant conversation and ... PLOP ... contradiction. Silence. Sideways glances. I coughed. And we moved on like it didn't happen.
I have been having some movie moments lately... Wind blowing in my hair, I turn and face the wind with new decisiveness and direction. I adjust my briefcase strap and march forward feeling refreshed with the energy of having left behind old baggage. It's better than a week-long cruise - and just as cheesy!
How does one process a day of drama? There was no fighting. No crying. Some shock. But just lots of "no way" and "you have got to be kidding me" and "holy crap!" Some people just sleep. Some take long drives. But for me... I don't know. Hot tea didn't work. Talking just makes me cranky. I am sick of TV and especially CNN. Maybe if I stare at a computer screen all my troubles will fade. Yeah well that doesn't work either.
And no, I don't have SARS!
I am in a battle with one of my dogs - the young one. He wants to be the dominant dog in the house. For those who have never fought this battle you will think me silly - you will think I am anthropomorphizing my dog's actions. I AM NOT. He knows when things change in the house. Tom is away in NYC. I am very sick and sleeping all day. I think he can smell that I am weak and he is starting to test me... again. He is not coming when I call. He is pushing ahead of me on the stairs. He tried to eat my food today. In short - he wants to be top dog. To correct the problem I have to speak his language. So in my smelly, sweaty, sick state, I backed him into his kennel and stared him down. And I growled. I actually growled. BUT it works! He's back to being his obedient self.
This man may, in fact, be one of the world’s worst speakers. In addition, his voice seems to have a tone causing an automatic feedback problem with the speaker system. Slide after slide with lime green backdrops are hurting my eyes. The pain of looking at the screen is not unlike turning on the bathroom light in the midnight dark. “My eyes! My eyes!”
Given that I only loosely follow world events this isn't a political statement. I am just thinking how much of a pain in the ass it would be to figure out what to pack, where to go, and how to get there. If the governor of California gave me 48 hours to get out of the state and never come back, I would be hard pressed to make it happen. Frankly I would end up across the state line in Yuma with a bag of Freetos and my wallet.
I am currently throwing a fit with my bank about an interest rate. As we speak I am on hold waiting in a deadly silence for the answer. I am not screaming mad but I just spewed off a long case and sounded very stern yet under control. Why then do I have a sick stomach?
1) Bought "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens" 2) Bathed both of my dogs 3) Photographed two Tommy Hilfiger handbags 4) Ate feted broccoli
I bought a take-out sandwich today - egg and cheese. It usually comes on an English muffin (as indicated by the little menu). Fine. Great. But the woman says, "We are out of muffins - how about a bagel?" Frankly, there is too much thick bread on a bagel for my taste. "How about on slices of bread?" I asked. Her reply, "We don't make substitutions."
1) I didn't feel the earthquake. 2) Threw a wedding shower this weekend. It was a day full of pleasantries with older British women. On the way home from the party, I had to pull off the freeway so that I could vomit violently behind a Denny's. (Probably not the first time that has happened.) 3) Saw a production of "Cabaret" last night. During the final number of the show, the director added a low grade sound under the seats to create a rumbling, shaking feeling. FREAKED ME OUT. Not unlike the final moments of "Signs" in which I was so panicked, I broke out in sweat and scarred my upper lip with my own finger nail.
Love, exciting and new. Come aboard. We're expecting you. The Love Boat. Soon we'll be making another run. The Love Boat. Promises something for everyone. Set your course for adventure; your mind for a new romance. And love ... won't hurt anymore. It's an open sky on a brand new shore. It's love!
O=E and B=R BOWOIGNF, M TSRO EOWYUO YEVOVVOP HMGT POWYPMIK CLAANOV NMZO GTMV YIO. M IOOP CBYQOVVMYISN TONC.
According, to US english grammer rules the period should always go inside the quotation mark get it rite Kirk!
I mean what are the chances? If you Google me, all that turns up is some site about an infant model and something about a gumball machine. Am I the crazy one?
theatRE = the art form Theatre people need to get over themselves. And they need to realize they are not British.
I am suffering from some nasty alergy problems AND my office smells. I cleaned my car this weekend and over-Fabreezed it. Bleck.
I am going to be performing my stand-up routine tonight (Oh dear. Oh my. It seems that we have some singed pussy in here!) And frankly, I am not all that nervous. In fact, I am nervous that I am not nervous. I am really hopeful that by the time I get ready to go on stage I am ready to puke. If not, I need to change professions and get a high-risk, high-paying job where fearlessness will make me rich.
2003 Resolution: Make fewer co-dependant friends.
Here's the twist. I got sick on Christmas day and stayed home the two following work days. How lame is that going to look on my timesheet? My boss is going to take one look and say, "Right. Two sick days at the end of the year, just before he's about the lose them. Liar."
And I don't think eBay is successful because it's a great way to get great deals. It's successful in the same way casinos are successful: people are addicted to thinking they might be getting a great deal - or winning a lot of money. It's a thrill ride. Like a mini-orgasm when you sell or win. "Oh my God. YES!" And there's nothing messy or smelly to wipe off yourself.
A few words that really only just begin the summerize my thoughts. 1) Thank goodness they stopped putting Deanna Trio in hair pieces - SHE'S A PRETTY GIRL AS IS! 2) (more Troi) Thank goodness they FINALLY used her mind-reading skill in a real way. For seven seasons she did little but state the obvious. "He's lying Captain." DUH! She gets a great big telepathic FUCK YOU in this movie. 3) Although they did a great job in explaining why Picard's twin was less than perfect, they skirted the issue about how Data got chubby. And moreover... how HIS twin (lost for untold years) gained the same amount of weight. 4) I must admit they walked the fine line between outright copying and giving homage (to previous Treks and Star Wars) BUT they did a fine job falling on the homage side. Phew - close call. 5) Thanks for the buggy-ride: I had fun but what was the point?
YEARS AGO our blog host Kirk tried to convince me that men who had an ass fetish (hetero ass fetish - nothing queer here) really just had a displaced boob fetish... that the ass looked like breasts and therefore a man's ass preference just went back to his need to suckle. Segue... The TV station Bravo is now running a TWO-HOUR special on our culture's fixation with breasts. TWO HOURS! Self fulfilling prophecy if you ask me. "Show it and they will come." (don't miss the double entendre in that last remark)
Don't we live in the #@*&ing digital age anyway?
I just made an ass of myself at work trying to schedule a meeting with west coast staff members while I am in Boston in a few weeks. West coast time zone converted to east coast and back to west coast. It went VERY poorly.
I just read an article about restoring the Boston Opera House in Downtown Crossing. (Huh? What opera house?) Which is my point. Not only did I shop and bank near it, but I walked past it on my way to work everyday. It's this massive (and fabulous) theatre hidden in Downtown Crossing that has been left to mold and decay - and I never knew it was there. And last weekend I stumbled into the bizarre world of retail display stores - where you can buy mannequins, counter tops, and jewelry cases. Right in downtown San Diego. I've past this warehouse probably 50 times. Never knew. What else am I missing?
very rainy in SD - like the rest of the west coast planning another trip next month to boston when tom is in RI with Music Man - Dec 7 or so. hope you and the little woman can come see tom carry a pitchfork across stage |