So I didn't go to a party tonight because I was tired and it was going to be too late, and I have work early in the morning. Now it is nearly 2am, and I am still up because I can't find my asthma inhaler and I sort of can't breathe at the moment. And on top of the discomfort of not breathing well, I am very irritated at myself because I just bought that stupid inhaler a couple weeks ago (and since I don't have health insurance it cost me nearly $30). How could I lose it so soon!!! Gah!
I am so good at losing things that I wish it were an Olympic sport, because I'd definitely win the gold. Then I'd be rich and famous and could afford to have servants who would lose my inhalers for me.
Well, one can dream, I suppose. But of course, it's much easier to dream when one is actually ASLEEP. Which I, in case you haven't noticed, am not. I am awake...at 1:45am!
I don't want to be awake! I want to be in bed, sleeping! AAARRRGGGGHHHH!
I can't believe I lost my inhaler. I can't believe I have to be up in less than six hours. I can't believe I'll have to work a full day on less than six hours' of sleep.
I can't believe I'm such a whiner.
Sigh...
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Thursday, September 15, 2005
My Kingdom for a...Corkscrew!
One of the difficult things about housesitting is you never know where anything is. In the kitchen, for instance. Like a corkscrew, for example. I mean, just as an illustration of sorts.
Imagine you are planning a nice quiet evening at home. You are going to watch a movie and have a glass of, say, Black Opal shiraz from Australia, which you'd bought at (naturally) Trader Joe's, with this very sort of evening in mind. A lovely idea, no? I thought so too.
Then last night I began looking for the corkscrew.
Now, I am not exactly what you'd call renowned at finding things. (I am what you'd call notorious for losing them, but that's another story--lots of other stories, actually.) But in this case I absolutely ransacked every imaginable drawer and cupboard and nook and cranny looking for that corkscrew, which I knew must exist because my friends had bottles of wine on the kitchen counter, and one of them was even open, proving the existence of the corkscrew! But where!! I couldn't have found it if my life depended on it, and to be honest, I am a person of such one-track mindedness that it began to seem like, in fact, my life did depend on it.
I looked everywhere, I really did. I even looked inside the coffee container, and while it isn't particularly surprising that I didn't find it there, I really did expect it to turn up somewhere. I mean, it had to be here! But after about a half hour of looking, I had to admit defeat (though not very graciously).
I considered trying to open the bottle with my teeth, but it seemed unlikely. Someone suggested breaking the neck of the bottle, but that sounded dangerous. Another suggestion involved somehow pressing the cork down into the bottle, but I didn't think I had the strength for that, at least not without breaking the cork into little pieces, and if I have a pet peeve (if! I just made myself laugh out loud), it's little pieces of cork floating around in my glass of wine. Yuck.
So in the end I was resigned to drinking from my friends' open bottle of some sort of red wine that turned my lips and teeth purple. Mmmmm!
But the experience did make me think. I mean, a corkscrew is absolutely irreplaceable among kitchen implements, for its purpose. If you don't have a corkscrew, you really have a problem. Other things you can improvise--you know, like use a knife if you can't find a bottle opener, or something like that. But no corkscrew! Oh, then you're...well, screwed. Ha.
Another friend suggested I get one of those little corkscrews you attach to your keychain. I think I will. "Hi, my name is grackyfrogg, and while I'm not an alcoholic, I like wine so much that I carry around this little corkscrew everywhere I go because I become an obsessively raging monster when I badly want a glass of wine and can't find a corkscrew. Not that it happens often or anything! Because it doesn't! I'm not an alcoholic, remember! I just like to know I have a corkscrew when I need it, ok!"
Hmmm.
Imagine you are planning a nice quiet evening at home. You are going to watch a movie and have a glass of, say, Black Opal shiraz from Australia, which you'd bought at (naturally) Trader Joe's, with this very sort of evening in mind. A lovely idea, no? I thought so too.
Then last night I began looking for the corkscrew.
Now, I am not exactly what you'd call renowned at finding things. (I am what you'd call notorious for losing them, but that's another story--lots of other stories, actually.) But in this case I absolutely ransacked every imaginable drawer and cupboard and nook and cranny looking for that corkscrew, which I knew must exist because my friends had bottles of wine on the kitchen counter, and one of them was even open, proving the existence of the corkscrew! But where!! I couldn't have found it if my life depended on it, and to be honest, I am a person of such one-track mindedness that it began to seem like, in fact, my life did depend on it.
I looked everywhere, I really did. I even looked inside the coffee container, and while it isn't particularly surprising that I didn't find it there, I really did expect it to turn up somewhere. I mean, it had to be here! But after about a half hour of looking, I had to admit defeat (though not very graciously).
I considered trying to open the bottle with my teeth, but it seemed unlikely. Someone suggested breaking the neck of the bottle, but that sounded dangerous. Another suggestion involved somehow pressing the cork down into the bottle, but I didn't think I had the strength for that, at least not without breaking the cork into little pieces, and if I have a pet peeve (if! I just made myself laugh out loud), it's little pieces of cork floating around in my glass of wine. Yuck.
So in the end I was resigned to drinking from my friends' open bottle of some sort of red wine that turned my lips and teeth purple. Mmmmm!
But the experience did make me think. I mean, a corkscrew is absolutely irreplaceable among kitchen implements, for its purpose. If you don't have a corkscrew, you really have a problem. Other things you can improvise--you know, like use a knife if you can't find a bottle opener, or something like that. But no corkscrew! Oh, then you're...well, screwed. Ha.
Another friend suggested I get one of those little corkscrews you attach to your keychain. I think I will. "Hi, my name is grackyfrogg, and while I'm not an alcoholic, I like wine so much that I carry around this little corkscrew everywhere I go because I become an obsessively raging monster when I badly want a glass of wine and can't find a corkscrew. Not that it happens often or anything! Because it doesn't! I'm not an alcoholic, remember! I just like to know I have a corkscrew when I need it, ok!"
Hmmm.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
I Have Decided
I am not a cat person.
Today I was trying to work on my newspaper article (done! yes!), and Lulu the Dying Breather wanted to be in my lap and get some attention. That charmed me for awhile, until she started to get cat hair all over my keyboard. Also, she has really bad breath.
I am all itchy now, and my nose is stuffed up. Argh, allergies!
Oh well, it's worth it; I mean the cats are a very small price to pay for the chance to be in a different place for a little while, and I don't hate them. They are pretty well-behaved and keep to themselves mostly, except when they want to be petted (Lulu) or drink out of the bathtub faucet (Pould). Besides, just about any creature under the sun would be better than the insufferable Leo, whom I miss not at all.
Speaking of animals, I thought I might go to the zoo today, since I have the day off. Then I thought, maybe I should get my eyebrows done. Can't do both, which will it be? Education or beautification?
I leave it to your imagination. You should know me well enough by now.
Today I was trying to work on my newspaper article (done! yes!), and Lulu the Dying Breather wanted to be in my lap and get some attention. That charmed me for awhile, until she started to get cat hair all over my keyboard. Also, she has really bad breath.
I am all itchy now, and my nose is stuffed up. Argh, allergies!
Oh well, it's worth it; I mean the cats are a very small price to pay for the chance to be in a different place for a little while, and I don't hate them. They are pretty well-behaved and keep to themselves mostly, except when they want to be petted (Lulu) or drink out of the bathtub faucet (Pould). Besides, just about any creature under the sun would be better than the insufferable Leo, whom I miss not at all.
Speaking of animals, I thought I might go to the zoo today, since I have the day off. Then I thought, maybe I should get my eyebrows done. Can't do both, which will it be? Education or beautification?
I leave it to your imagination. You should know me well enough by now.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Housesitting
I am writing this from a nice little apartment in North Hollywood, where I am housesitting for a friend and taking care of cats. I don't know if I am a cat person or not. I think I would be if I weren't allergic to them, because honestly they are wonderful to cuddle with--when they are in the mood, that is.
My friends use some stuff called Allerpet on the cats, so I haven't had any trouble with allergies. What I have had a little trouble with is the fact that one of the cats wheezes worse than I do when my asthma kicks in, and I worry that any second she is going to die. My friends left a note for me with various instructions, including the injunction to not worry about her dying because that's just how she sounds, but I can't help it. She sneezes alot too, and I wonder if she's allergic to something. My lungs hurt just listening to her breathe!
But at least she is very friendly. I like cats that like to be petted, and that like to curl up on your lap and purr. That's what cats are for.
It's nice to have a place all to myself for awhile. There are lots of books here, and all sorts of guitars. I'm going to try my hand at the 12-string later, if I can figure out how to tune it!
My friends thoughtfully left me a gift certificate to Trader Joe's, my favorite grocery store in the world. Just walking into Trader Joe's makes you feel healthy and organic. They have all sorts of specialty foods, as well as wines and juice and soy milk. I like soy milk. They also have great dark chocolate. Trader Joe's was one of the things I missed most during my time in New Zealand.
The other thing, of course, was In-N-Out, which isn't healthy at all. Hmmm.
Well, I am rambling. I am also (shhhh!) procrastinating on finishing another newspaper article. Yikes! Better get back to it. But first I'm going to play with the cat, if I can find her. Oh wait, I'll just follow the sound of her breathing...
My friends use some stuff called Allerpet on the cats, so I haven't had any trouble with allergies. What I have had a little trouble with is the fact that one of the cats wheezes worse than I do when my asthma kicks in, and I worry that any second she is going to die. My friends left a note for me with various instructions, including the injunction to not worry about her dying because that's just how she sounds, but I can't help it. She sneezes alot too, and I wonder if she's allergic to something. My lungs hurt just listening to her breathe!
But at least she is very friendly. I like cats that like to be petted, and that like to curl up on your lap and purr. That's what cats are for.
It's nice to have a place all to myself for awhile. There are lots of books here, and all sorts of guitars. I'm going to try my hand at the 12-string later, if I can figure out how to tune it!
My friends thoughtfully left me a gift certificate to Trader Joe's, my favorite grocery store in the world. Just walking into Trader Joe's makes you feel healthy and organic. They have all sorts of specialty foods, as well as wines and juice and soy milk. I like soy milk. They also have great dark chocolate. Trader Joe's was one of the things I missed most during my time in New Zealand.
The other thing, of course, was In-N-Out, which isn't healthy at all. Hmmm.
Well, I am rambling. I am also (shhhh!) procrastinating on finishing another newspaper article. Yikes! Better get back to it. But first I'm going to play with the cat, if I can find her. Oh wait, I'll just follow the sound of her breathing...
Monday, September 12, 2005
Movie Time
I have a strange relationship with the City of Angels. Born and bred here, I still know less about it that lots of people who come here from other places. I have never been one for the "scene"; in fact, I'm not entirely sure what the "scene" is, but if it involves going out to clubs in hopes of getting hit on by drunk, not-so-up-and-coming screenwriters with sleazy grins and over-developed senses of self-importance, not to mention spending the bulk of weekend nights just looking for parking on Sunset or Hollywood or wherever to avoid paying $10 or much more in a lot, so you can go to said club and get hit on by said guys, I can't say I'm particularly interested.
You can take for granted that anyone who says they are a writer in LA means they are a screenwriter. If you threw a rock in the store where I work, you would: a) probably break a few computers, but b) knock out a screenwriter or two. A big difference from the Bay Area, where everyone writes novels and short stories and obscure poetry about their inner children, or maybe the ghosts of those children, who sit in some lonely corner of the forgotten soul crying out with keening voices about being devoured by the black hole that is the universe. San Franciscans are progressive, you see, where Angelenos are progressing...it's just no one knows quite where they are progressing to. Which can be a little awkward, as you can imagine.
I admit I've considered screenwriting, if only out of a sense of curiosity. I like to write dialogue. How about this for a movie scene?
Boy: Hi there. My name is Joe.
Girl: Joe! No one's named Joe anymore, especially in the movies.
Boy [disconcerted]: Oh really? I had no idea! What should my name be then?
Girl: I don't know. But maybe we should kiss now. After all, a few minutes have gone by.
Boy: Well, alright. [Starts to lean in]
Girl [stopping him]: Wait! You have to say something romantic first.
Boy: Oh, of course. Sorry. [Thinks] You're pretty.
Girl: That's good enough. [They kiss]
Boy: Oh by the way, what's your name?
Girl: Why, I...don't know!
Boy: Oh well. Let's kiss again. [They do]
Boy: Now what?
Girl: Well, there's still a while til the movie ends. Why don't we hijack a car, rob a bank, and blow up a building or two? I'm sure the resulting chase scenes will be a good adrenaline rush for audiences, and we won't have to talk alot. Then we can have sex too. I'm sure by then we'll know each other's names and it won't seem quite so awkward.
Boy: That sounds cool! I like shooting things. Can I have a gun?
Girl: Sure. Let's go shopping. I want a shorter miniskirt.
[Exeunt]
Ok, so it needs a little work. I won't be quitting my day job or anything.
You can take for granted that anyone who says they are a writer in LA means they are a screenwriter. If you threw a rock in the store where I work, you would: a) probably break a few computers, but b) knock out a screenwriter or two. A big difference from the Bay Area, where everyone writes novels and short stories and obscure poetry about their inner children, or maybe the ghosts of those children, who sit in some lonely corner of the forgotten soul crying out with keening voices about being devoured by the black hole that is the universe. San Franciscans are progressive, you see, where Angelenos are progressing...it's just no one knows quite where they are progressing to. Which can be a little awkward, as you can imagine.
I admit I've considered screenwriting, if only out of a sense of curiosity. I like to write dialogue. How about this for a movie scene?
Boy: Hi there. My name is Joe.
Girl: Joe! No one's named Joe anymore, especially in the movies.
Boy [disconcerted]: Oh really? I had no idea! What should my name be then?
Girl: I don't know. But maybe we should kiss now. After all, a few minutes have gone by.
Boy: Well, alright. [Starts to lean in]
Girl [stopping him]: Wait! You have to say something romantic first.
Boy: Oh, of course. Sorry. [Thinks] You're pretty.
Girl: That's good enough. [They kiss]
Boy: Oh by the way, what's your name?
Girl: Why, I...don't know!
Boy: Oh well. Let's kiss again. [They do]
Boy: Now what?
Girl: Well, there's still a while til the movie ends. Why don't we hijack a car, rob a bank, and blow up a building or two? I'm sure the resulting chase scenes will be a good adrenaline rush for audiences, and we won't have to talk alot. Then we can have sex too. I'm sure by then we'll know each other's names and it won't seem quite so awkward.
Boy: That sounds cool! I like shooting things. Can I have a gun?
Girl: Sure. Let's go shopping. I want a shorter miniskirt.
[Exeunt]
Ok, so it needs a little work. I won't be quitting my day job or anything.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Prayer
In this world, I walk alone
With no place to call my home
But there's One who holds my hand,
the rugged road through barren lands...
In your love, I find release
A haven from my unbelief
Take my life and let me be
A living prayer, my God, to thee.
--Alison Krauss & Union Station, "A LIving Prayer"
With no place to call my home
But there's One who holds my hand,
the rugged road through barren lands...
In your love, I find release
A haven from my unbelief
Take my life and let me be
A living prayer, my God, to thee.
--Alison Krauss & Union Station, "A LIving Prayer"
Haunted
The level of my delight at finding this article today can only be imagined:
Landlord Sues Restaurateur Over Ghosts
I can die happy now.
Landlord Sues Restaurateur Over Ghosts
I can die happy now.
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