Times are hard for Dreamers

crocodiletears @ 2009-07-30T18:48:00

2009-07-31T02:08:22Z

I'm looking for recommendations for horror movies. I've realized I'm really into them, but I have really high (and specific) standards, which I was thinking about the other day:

I don't care about any movies where the protagonists are oversexed teenagers.
I am not scared of serial killers, only the supernatural.
I dislike most very old horror movies with not so much bad special effects as different senses of timing.
I don't want to watch any of the Saw movies or anything that's just gore.
I can't stand when anything bad happens to animals in film
I like a lot of Asian horror movies, but feel like I'm unable to find anything else lately.
My favorite horror story is Frankenstein.

Recommendations?

Also, Attila is on liver medication now, which we hide in little pocket treats that are like chicken flavored cookie dough, and she seems to be doing well.

Sitting here wishing on a cement floor.

2009-07-15T01:14:43Z

I took Attila to the vet today, due to their being a small amount of blood in her poo. The vet didn't seem to feel it was going to be too big a deal (the bloodwork will be done tomorrow), but did mention something about her that changes things somewhat.

For those who don't remember, Attila has had a pretty hard life. She was born with a hip condition which limits her top speed and jumping ability, but otherwise doesn't really affect her. At some point, before the people who fostered her found her, she was homeless. Probably due to the hip issue, she was not having much luck catching prey, and was malnourished. She lost a lot of her teeth, probably at this point. So when we got her, and we're not foolish, we got her vet records too, the vet records said "Est. age 5-7". Now, I've been around cats all my life, and she acts older than this, but whatever, different mileage, right? The hard life and hip and tooth problem will do that to a cat. Apparently not.

The vet today estimated that she's 13. Now, I don't regret us getting her, and the cats I grew up with, who live with my mom are about 16, 16, and 14, and all of them are still kicking. But while I know I'll still have years with her, it is like our life together just got shortened by 6 or so years.

But here is a picture of her on a tiny couch I bought for her at the goodwill, so you can see that she's still having a good time.

A moral, an adoption, and typical Liz

2009-04-27T02:59:16Z

So, while I normally don't bore you with the mundane details of my day to day life, this past week some unusual and exciting shit has happened, I promise, if you stick with me, it's good.

1. Those of you I talk to regularly are aware that my boss is a crazy, racist, sexist, verbally abusive asshole. This man has told me that I am good at math "for a girl", and asked my coworker of Mexican decent if Mexicans like snow "because I know black people don't". I have on good authority that he used to be an actual pimp, and, in between screaming at and belittling employees, he makes vague references to the mob, and how he left Boston 20 years ago and has never been back. I've been looking for another job, but there's the "Global Economic Downturn" and I don't know anyone in this city.

Well, update on that: He sold the business, but, like the weirdo he is, wouldn't leave. So, last Thursday, for some tax related reason, cops ran into my place of work looking for my boss. My boss ran out the back door, and I have not seen him since. He now leaves weird messages on my coworker's answering machine saying that the new owners of the shop don't want her and she should come work for him. My new bosses are nice, and I have a raise.

2. Derek and I got a cat. I became deeply entrenched in the politics of cat adoption, realizing that I want to support no kill shelters, but also reading that many no kill shelters turn away cats they feel are less desirable because they have to keep their inventory of cats moving. Turning away cats from a no kill shelter occupies a similar space in my brain as saying the U.S. doesn't torture, but shipping prisoners out to countries we know do. If you're turning away a cat from no kill shelters, you know this person who can't keep them or doesn't want them is taking them to a shelter that euthanizes, and you're just outsourcing this thing you claim to think is immoral.

So, I posted to the Seattle livejournal community asking about local animal rescues and who takes all animals regardless of age or illness. What I got was a few good recommendations, and one comment from a woman who rescued a cat from malnutrition in a parking lot, but couldn't keep the cat because she hated the woman's dogs. Anyway, this woman was commenting to let me know about rescues that had turned down this cat because of a minor hip problem and some missing teeth. So, Kathleen took us to go see this cat. And the internet, which has always given me so much (roommates, boyfriends, housing situations) has now given me a cat. The people fostering her were calling her Honey. From there, it was only two short jumps for Derek to start calling her Attila, and here she is.

She likes sitting on our chests and drooling down on us when she is happy, and she cannot allow any cuddles to take place without her being a part of them. I'll leave to your imagination how that affects my and Derek's lives. Anyway, I'm very happy to have her here, and my life is now filled with the rich happiness than in my experience only a cat brings.

3. I lost my wallet, and due to exceedingly strict requirements for a WA state ID, I'm afraid that I simply do not have enough papers to get a new ID without joining a Native American tribe or the military. I can not get a new bank card until I have ID, and I spent about a third of my cash on supplies to clean up a cat urine stain on my bed. She was nervous, and has since settled in. We'll see how this plays out.

Once again, I find myself living in the same city as an old school rapper...

2009-04-14T01:23:37Z

Seattle is of course the home of Kurt Cobain and Jimi Hendrix, but until the other day I had been only vaguely aware that Sir Mix-a-Lot was from here. What happened yesterday? I was listening to the radio, which I've been doing a lot more recently in hopes of finding a station up here that plays Radiolab, and Sir Mix-a-Lot's song "Posse On Broadway" came on. It's not just vague references to being on the south side, which I am, but detailed directions on how to get from my house to Broadway, one of the main strips in Seattle. So here are the lyrics to "Posse on Broadway" annotated as they relate to my life:

Me and Kid Sensation and that home away from home
In the Black Benz Limo with the cellular phone
I'm callin' up the posse it's time to get rippin'
The freaks a need a sunroof to keep you sucka's trippin'
Everybody's lookin if your jealous turn around
The AMG kick keeps us closer to the ground
we're gettin' good grip from the 50 series tires
the Alpine's bumpin' but I need the volume higher--
cause the 808 kick drum makes the girlies get dumb--
we're rollin' Rainier,[1] and the jealous wanna get some--
Every time we do, the sucka M.C.'s wanna battle--
I'm the man they love to hate, the J.R. Ewing of Seattle--
Picked up the posse on 23rd and Jackson[2]--
headed for the strip, yes we're lookin' for some action--
the limo's kinda crowded, the whole car was leanin' back--
Maharaji's watchin' T.V. with two girlies on his lap--
On Martin Luther King[3].....the set looks kinda dead--

we need a new street so posse move ahead--
we all look kinda' SWASS the crew you can't forget--
the Mix-a-lot posse co' rippen' up the set--

My Posse's on Broadway........

UhhhRrrollin' with my posse we're gettin' kinda' bored--
there's not another posse with more points scored--
we don't walk around like criminals or flex like big gorillas--
my homeboy Kid Sensation is the teenage lady killa'--
Maharaji's on the def side dancin' like a freak--
the girlies see his booty and their knees get weak--
Larry is the white guy people think he's funny --
a real estate investa' who makes a lot of money--
Clockin' lots of dollas' we all got gold--
cruzin' in the Benz ain't got no place to go--
wheelin' 23rd[4] we saw nuthin' but thugs--
the girlies was too skinny from smokin' all them drugs[5]--
cause the rock man got 'em and their butts just dropped--
the freaks looked depressed 'cause the Benz won't stop--
at 23rd and Union[6] the driver broke left--
Kevin shouted Broadway it's time to get def--
my girl blew me a kiss, she said I was the best--
she's lookin' mighty freaky in her black silk dress--
the closer that we get, the crazier that I feel--
the posse's on Broadway it's time to get ill--

My Posse's on Broadway.........

Cruzin' Broadway and my wheels spin slow--
rollin with my posse is the only way to go --
the girlies by the college[7] was lookin for a ride--
we tried to pick them up but we had no room inside--
we put them on the trunk, we put them on the hood--
some sat up with the driver they made him feel good--
the posse's gettin' bigger, there's much too many freaks--
the muffler's draggin', my suspension's gettin' weak--
Now the posse's gettin' hungry, and Mix-a-Lot's treatin'--
we stopped at Taco Bell[8], for some Mexican eatin'--
but Taco Bell was closed, and the girls was on my tip--
they said, "Go back the other way, we'll stop and eat at Dick's"[9]--
Dick's is the place where the crew hang out--
the SWASS like to play, and the rich flaunt clout--
posse to the burger stand, so big we walk in two's--
we're gettin' dirty looks, from those other sucka crews--
Kid Sensation dropped a $20, and didn't even miss it--
skeeza from anotha' crew, she picked it up and kissed it--
her boyfriend's illin', he went to slap her face--
My homeboy P.L.B. co' sprayed the boy with mace--
'Cause I never liked a punk, who beat up on his girl--
if you don't have game, then let her leave your world--
We took the girl with usssssss....with him she rode the busssss....
she gave the boy the finga', and the sucka starts to cussssss....
boy I gotta def posse, you gotta bunch of dudes--
you're broke co' cryin' bout the rock-man blues--
you beat up on your girl, and now you're all upset--
she's with the Mix-a-Lot posse, on the Broadway set--

My posse's on Broadway.........

[1] Ranier is south of where I live, right off of the Goodwill where I have gotten almost all my furniture, and also where the vet is that Derek and I will take the cat we are probably getting to.

[2] This is my bank and local grocery store. Also, there's a Starbucks here now, which there probably wasn't in 1988.

[3] I honestly have no idea why they'd turn and go over to MLK, it's the opposite way from Broadway. Unless they're going to the Grocery Outlet.

[4] This is the street I live on, and as they were on 23rd and Jackson, and given footnote 6, it is more than likely they are going directly past my house.

[5] Actually the neighborhood has cleaned up a lot, and while there are still drugs, I see a lot more people smoking crack in Belltown.

[6] The state run liquor store, also the police 'drop in center', also Derek and my first sublet in Seattle.

[7] From the location, this has got to be Seattle Central Community College, rather than UW, Seattle U, or Antioch.

[8] This is sadly almost the only "Mexican" food in Seattle.

[9] Dick's is the shadiest looking burger place ever. There are always people dressed like street punks hassling each other and fights out front. Think of the Taco Bell on Pacific Avenue at night, but if it was planted into a big city.

Writer's Block: Cookies

2009-02-05T04:30:19Z

What is the strangest advice you've ever received from a fortune cookie?

Submitted By merrytook92

View 501 Answers

Normally I don't go for these, but I immediately knew the answer to this one: "You and your wife will be very happy."

For those who don't know, I am a straight woman.

More relevant updates later.

First Entry From Seattle

2008-07-22T22:20:36Z

Things about Seattle:

Seattle has narrow streets and few bike lanes. It has a lot of Philly Cheese steak places. Why? The only answer anyone has been able to give me is "I dunno. Same latitude?" Produce is expensive and still comes from Watsonville. There are a lot of hills, and I am making it up a good deal of them on my bike, more than you'd probably think I could, higher and steeper than Laurel hill, but I am still tired. There is a store on the next street over that trades cash for gold, and beer for cash, so therefore beer for gold. Derek calls that a syllogism.

Something Amazing that Happened today:

I was riding my bike home in the traffic lane because there was no bike lane. As I rode past the beer for gold store -- an area that always makes me a tinge nervous because there's always several people people milling about it yelling -- a car started continuously honking his horn at me. It would have been very easy to get around me, but he didn't.

Cars fucking with me always makes nervous. I know they won't really run me over, but being nervous means I'm more likely to crash, and crashing with a car tailgating me means I'd get hurt. After a few moments I managed to figure out how to get over to the sidewalk I wanted without getting run over by the tailgater or the oncoming traffic.

Then people on the sidewalk exploded. They began cussing out the driver, and when he was gone turned their attention towards me, assuring me that I'd had a right to be there, and that next time I should just stop and hold him up while I told him.

I guess the only conclusion I can put on that is that it was pretty cool.

crocodiletears @ 2008-05-09T00:11:00

2008-05-09T07:14:29Z

Dear Sir,
Thank you for the generous tip last night. It is most welcome in an environment where few people even think to show their appreciation for my services monetarily. While I think the cause for the tip was that I nulled your six months of late fees since you brought back a movie during our late fee amnesty day, part of my mind cringes in belief that this interaction is a foreshadowing of you becoming one of those creepy old men who comes into Westside and asks me out repeatedly, presumably under the impression that a) Being old enough to be my father is not creepy and b) I am in need of a sugardaddy since I work at a video store. Both premises are flawed.

In the event that this is the case, it would be important for you to know that I used the tip to purchase a dozen eggs at the Mexican market near my house so that my boyfriend and I could make breakfast.

When I say "breakfast" I mean that my boyfriend makes delicious scrambles, whereas I burn the eggs to the pan, and for that among other reasons, he makes me very happy. When I say "Mexican market near my house", I mean that it's actually run by Koreans. Nonetheless, the shelves are stocked with a dozen varieties of tortillas, all the flavors of Jarritos I have ever seen, and all the signs are in Spanish. The young man who rung up my purchase of eggs spoke textbook Spanish to the woman in front of me, California-accented English to me, and Korean to the other woman working in the store.

Despite imminence of my delicious scramble, all I could think of on the walk back, staring at the boardwalk, was how soon I’m going to be leaving.

crocodiletears @ 2007-06-04T11:11:00

2007-06-04T18:36:26Z

Hello Livejournalland,
It is my birthday/the week before finals, the most stressful time of year. I know you all want to throw last minute surprise parties for me, but unfortunately for you Derek keeps telling me not to make plans, and saying defensively "it's taken care of". Are you as intrigued as I am? Probably not.

I just realized I have finals on the 14th from 8 am to 7 pm. How is that even possible? Then in the next couple days I have, rapid fire: Cathy graduates from high school (MSJ graduation ceremonies suck because there are usually 20 valedictorians and they all make a speech), I graduate, Derek meets my parents when they come down for graduation, I move rooms, I give 'The City' a tour of Zami! and convince them not to condemn us.

Then I sleep for a month.

crocodiletears @ 2007-04-12T10:21:00

2007-04-12T19:53:40Z

Yesterday was a bizarre day. I did nothing but sleep in class, and all day people offered me things.

"You there, not only napping, but snoring and falling into the aisle! You look like you're clearly on top of your stuff, how'd you like a special job?" Maybe the idea is I looked so exhausted that I must be a hard worker?

I got offered a stage managership, a special opportunity at the Barn doing airbrush body make up, and a full time job after I graduate working with Shakespeare Santa Cruz on their good summer shows with professional, respectful actors, class acts like Mike Ryan, and doing wardrobe, which is a much sweeter job than spotlight, and certainly a much sweeter job than production assistant. I'm still reeling at having a job lined up, and sulking at not having time to be a stage manager, and confused, because I acquired all of these offers through people knowing me and thinking I'm competent, rather than any kind of resume. These are the "connections" my theatre classes have been hounding me to make for the past year.

Also, Kurt Vonnegut is dead and it wasn't the Pall Malls. I don't know what to make of it.

crocodiletears @ 2007-03-06T00:09:00

2007-03-06T08:40:27Z

I have way too much work to do, and today this was my conversation with one of my professors.

"You know how I came to your office a few weeks ago to talk about how I may need extra time on this paper, and showed you my Disability Resource Center paperwork? I really need that extra time. I don't really know how much, because one of the hardest things about learning disabilities is they affect no two people the same way, and so I'm constantly having to learn my own boundaries. Because I have lots of other assignments -- some from you -- up to end of the quarter, I feel like keeping in that time frame would just hurt my other work. I assure you, I don't want to drag writing this paper out any longer than I need to, because it's not something I enjoy having hanging over my head, so please believe me when I say I'm very bright, and I'm very hardworking, and I can write you an amazing paper and I will write it as quickly as I can, but that will not be as quickly as your other students. Paper writing has always been a struggle for me, and I've never had to write something this long before."

"Yeah... I think paper writing is hard for everyone."

I've told that story a few times today, and while everyone has responded at how unfair that is, I don't think anyone's fully gotten how angry this makes me. I feel so discriminated against. And I feel bad using that word for it, like learning disabilities aren't a serious enough thing to warrant that term. And that makes me even angrier, because I know that they are, and that people trying to judge me like everyone else when I am so painfully not everyone else is unreasonable, and that my having shame at using the term 'discrimination' at all just means that I'm internalizing it when ignorant people imply that maybe I'm just not trying hard enough.

Also, I still can't figure out how to make the touch pad on my computer not move the cursor as I type all the time.

crocodiletears @ 2006-12-05T18:10:00

2006-12-06T02:10:38Z

I spend all my time working on a horrible play, surfacing occasionally to walk/carry a drunk girl home from a party, be there at the right time to offer a patch kit to a guy with a popped tire, finally get the mess that is the Zami! plumbing system sorted out, and plan fantastic surprises for the birthday of an ex-boyfriend who still has romantic feelings for me and still likes to hang out with me*.

Not to brag or anything, but I am a force for good in the universe.

Unfortunately, I surface way less frequently than I would like, and don't get to see everyone I'd like to. I miss you. Yes, you.

Jim Bierman wants me to come hang out in his Advanced Playwrighting class, even if I don't have room to take it, because he says I live in my own little world and he likes my writing.

It gets dark really early now. I feel very comfortable with that.

*How weird is that!?

An Update on the Update

2006-07-24T15:42:21Z

So as for the unresolved issues brought up in my last entry: I got the job, it's going to be really sweet. I work at a Fabric store and get amazing discounts and pretty much just suggest things to people. The boy and I have our second date thursday, because after talking with him, we apparently had our first date a couple weeks ago. I was not aware. Although to hear him recount it, he was incredibly nervous about "him asking me out", which consisted of me asking him if he'd seen A Prairie Home Companion yet, him stammering out the show times, it not occuring to me that it was weird that he knew the show times off the top off his head, and him running off to make toast.

I'm still working on that essay.

Here is Kathleen and I, on our way to Oregon! This is pre-diner where the lady didn't know what a vegan was and didn't want to know.

Kathleen spent the time teaching me about punk, so I could go back and impress my little co-op friends. Here she is explaining which Rancid albums are good (or giggling because she just peed on the tree in the backround. I forget.)

Mount something-or-other. There's a Gap in photos where we went camping, found Bigfoot, and used the camp's wireless connection to check our email in the women's bathroom at the camp site. The Oregonians didn't know what to make of us!

The next day, on the freeway, a car of boys (and their one female driver) waved at us, and then, to impress us, going 80 mph, one of them climbed out of the car through the window, on top of it, and in through the other window.

Afterward they gave us their phone number. I pressured Kathleen to call it, as she's the one staying in Oregon. I don't think she has though.

Once Kathleen dropped me off at the airport, I learned my flight had been delayed. I realized two things from this. 1. The complex pattern of airport shuttle, caltrain, bus I was taking to get home would no longer work if I arrived late, and 2. Everyone at Zami! was up at Pride in San Francisco, so no one would be there to answer a call pleading for a ride. If I began my journey late, I would most likely end up sleeping at the San Jose Diridon station. Pretty sketch.

I decided to investigate the airport as I thought this over. Everyone was really USA Today. Airports are horrible places. I haven't watched commercial news in long enough that I'm not sure if that's what this is, or some kind of E! entertainement news.
As I got in line to board the plane, I began thinking of how to hitchhike from San Jose to Santa Cruz with minimum sketchiness. Two people came up in line behind me. "Is this the plane to San Jose?" they said. "Yeah," I replied. "Perfect! We're going to San Jose," the couple said. "Heh. I don't supposed you're going to Santa Cruz after that?" I asked in complete facetiousness. "How'd you know?" They asked. "Wait, really? Can I bum a ride?" "Sure." And that's how I got home.

On the plane, I amused myself by taking clandestine pictures of the man across the aisle from me, who wore a mask for the entire flight.

Except when he took it off to drink the diet coke he ordered.

I explained to my new friends, who's brother picked them up in his pick up, and complained about missing Ultimate Fighter, that they were part of my Oregon adventure, and I needed a picture of them. They gladly obliged, and dropped me off at Zami!, refusing my offer of gas money.

crocodiletears @ 2006-07-21T07:45:00

2006-07-21T14:45:57Z

Hello kids, I know I haven't updated since I moved into Zami! House a little over a month ago, but I have an essay to write, and so I feel compelled to tell you about Zami!

Basically, life is beautiful. I spent the first two weeks feeling like I was on one of those tv shows where the main character is going crazy and everything around them is a representation of his mind. The feeling has faded somewhat, but the fact remains that everyone who's visited has said the same thing "This place is very you."

Everything here is broken down, written on, and painted interesting colors, and it is exactly how I dreamed the place I lived in would look when I was a kid. Everything is bursting forth with it's own personal mythology, some of which I'll never know, others which I can coax out of some of the older members. Twinklefingers has invaded every aspect of my life.

Culturally, co-ops are the way to go I've decided. I get fresh organic fruit 3-4 times a week, seem to now be on some kind of strange Saturn A-list, and get access to a wide variety of new music. we're all pooling our money for comics, and I'm at a hub of activism.

Also, I met a boy and I might have a job. More on those as they develop, and probably pictures later, including those of my and Kathleen's trip to Oregon.

Farewell My Little Vikings

2006-06-11T00:58:20Z

I know so many amazing people. Scratch that. I know the most amazing people in the world. Chances are if you're reading this, you're one of them.

Specifically, though, I'm speaking of the SAW bonfire last night, and how many people who have touched me and changed my life are graduating and going off to save the world, or going out on a field study (also to save the world).

I feel like I should be incredibly sad to see them go, as part of the heart and soul of SAW is going to be gone, including a lot of my friends who really reached out to me when I was new and made me feel welcome, but I don't feel that way at all. I'm just completely filled with joy at how lucky I was to know them, and even more so at the idea that I get to share that experience of knowing them with other people all around the world, and so hopeful that it'll change them like it's changed me.

crocodiletears @ 2006-05-29T02:02:00

2006-05-29T09:11:30Z

Wikipedia will never cease to amaze me. The last guy is my favorite.

Notes to Kathleen who is not here:

1. 22 units is too much. You were right. I was wrong.
2. When I stopped by the co-op, Mikey was sufficiently embarrassed by the picture you had of him being a 14 year old hot topic punk. He remembers that everyone used to think you were stoned because you were quiet and giggly.
3. I ate one of your mangoes.

crocodiletears @ 2006-04-24T00:20:00

2006-04-24T07:23:04Z

Someday I will be an effective public speaker, and then a much more useful activist. Perhaps this quarter, with intro to acting. But until that day, here is some MSPaint art. Kathleen let me try out her drawing pad.

I can't decide if the one of me looks like Ted Kennedy or Robert Smith. Either way, a scanner might be a better investment for my artistic needs.

crocodiletears @ 2006-04-16T15:59:00

2006-04-16T23:03:40Z

First off, Santa Cruz is still leading the anti-war movement. We are so cool.

Now on to the tofu-based fake meat of the entry:

I need a place to live next year. All my friends who I currently live with are living on campus, and I can't afford to/don't want to. So I thought maybe you, my friends, know some folks looking for someone nice to fill a room for next year, or could point me in the right direction. I'd love to live with other theatre kids or vegans or vegetarians or activists, but I'm pretty easy to get along with. I don't smoke or drink or any of that business, but I wouldn't be uncomfortable with housemates that do. I have plenty of references who'd speak about how good a house/roommate I am, and I've been told I'm exciting to live with (in a a good way). Ideas? Advice? Looking for someone? Know someone who's looking for someone? Let me know.

Also, I woke up Wednesday morning thoroughly convinced I should write/illustrate comics for a living. I don't know why, but it seems really, really appealing right now.

crocodiletears @ 2006-04-07T03:41:00

2006-04-07T10:44:11Z

Take that, spring break! You have failed to strip me of my childhood completely. My cat does not have cancer, which was a strong possibility that I spent most of break worrying about. He is just having digestive problems which he is expected to fully recover from.

My parents are still getting a divorce though. My mother, a highly eccentric dental hygienist, decided to have the "So, your father and I are getting a divorce, do you need to talk about this..?" conversation while she had me trapped in a dental chair, with instruments stuck in my mouth. It was kind of surreal.

While that part's comic, the entire concept is frightening. It puts me (and my siblings) in the position of being the parents, especially for my dad. And I'm not sure how to integrate my youthful idealistic notions of love with the idea that after over 20 years people can just decide they're not right for each other. I thought you just knew after a while.

crocodiletears @ 2006-03-01T01:59:00

2006-03-01T10:14:13Z

It is March 1st, as promised. My play didn't make it. Thirty Nine plays were submitted, fourteen, fifteen? were selected. I don't think I've ever not made it to the 60% percentile of anything in my life. I've been prefacing everything with "If it gets in", and I didn't quite realize that I'd been thinking "When it gets in". I'm not sure what to do with the rest of the year.

This entry is poorly written, but then I guess that makes sense.

crocodiletears @ 2006-02-11T20:01:00

2006-02-12T04:06:25Z

It's in. I'll know March 1st.

crocodiletears @ 2006-01-26T01:34:00

2006-01-26T09:41:05Z

Announcement:

Remember back in the fall when I said my goal for the year would be to try to get a play on stage? Well we're still on. My plot has come together more or less, and I'm going to submit it to Chautauqua (the local student theatre festival, for nonUCSCers). Unfortunately, the submission deadline is Feb. 11, giving me two and a half weeks to write my play. I'm not giving up though. Nothing I start ever gets finished, and while in many ways I'm really frightened of the idea of completing something, it feels important to see this through, whether or not it gets into Chautauqua. The competition is tough, with only 12 spots, and something like 50-odd plays being submitted, but I'd really love to see it on stage, so maybe.

Fever Dream

2006-01-16T00:29:40Z

I am sicker than I've been in probably 10 years. My throat is filled with barbed wire that shakes whenever I cough, and my muscles are sore from how often that is. I have no time to be sick. I have 4 classes to keep up with, and two jobs to go to, and responsibilities to SAW. I don't want to build a reputation there as a slacker. Fuck reputations. I don't want to be a slacker there.

Cathy is visiting for the weekend. I want to take her adventuring and to R rated movies and everything else big sisters are supposed to do, but I really don't feel up to leaving the apartment, and this quarter is going to kick my ass if I don't actually settle down and get better within the next couple days. She is understanding as ever and encouraging me to rest.

I have to write a plot, complete with characters and scene descriptions for class on Wednesday. I'm terrified. I know I can write the dialog and characters, but I have no plot and an ever shortening amount of time. I've been operating on the egotistical idea for a while that since my things are better than average when I put little effort into them, they'd be something really special if I ever really tried.

I am considered a "credible threat" by the Pentagon

2005-12-22T15:37:00Z

Fremont is a very lonely place. Since I've gotten back I've had the same conversation with at least 10 people. It's about the price of housing. People have forgotten how to talk about anything else. It's as if all their thoughts, or at least all their words, have just atrophied away like muscles without use. You'd think that with so much discussion of the topic, people would have a lot to say. They don't. Just "It's ridiculous; you could buy a mansion anywhere else in the country for the price those new houses are going for. Aren't they ugly? No yard." And the problem with the new houses isn't really that they're ugly, although they are, it's that they're a monotonous landscape of various shades of beige, as cloned as this conversation.

Sometimes I try to hijack the conversation. "You think prices will go down when the tech industry becomes so advanced that cyber-commuting is the norm and you no longer have to live in the area?" And I try to launch us into an escapist discussion of the evolution of the internet and the ever-approaching day when robots will walk among us, which doesn't seem all that implausible in Fremont, but for all the wrong reasons.

They'll realize what I'm doing, but not know how to stop speaking from the script. "We've been thinking about moving... because of the housing prices," they'll offer, as if exiting the city limits would lift some kind of spell and let them finally exit this conversation.

It's not that these are bad, shallow, or soulless people. If you watch closely everyone has their backstories, hints of rich colorful lives they once had before they were overtaken by their paint-by-numbers suburban life. Perfect strangers will mention it with a quiet, heavily veiled, desperate need for you to listen, but only if they can somehow tie it casually into the housing prices conversation.

"We used soy margarine for the stuffing... oh, wait, it's got turkey in it, nevermind"

2005-11-27T09:32:31Z

Poor, neglected livejournal. First I don't update because there's nothing to say, then because there are a lot of things to say and I don't know which to talk about. I'll try to do better in the future.

First off, thanks to everyone who made my little sister's week in Santa Cruz so fun. She explored caves and woods, saw Robert the umbrella man, hippies, activism, the Saturn Cafe, murals, buses, the view, and all that excellent stuff we're so used to. Her favorite part? "The people." Also, my mom is complaining that she swears profusely now, so thanks for that.

My first vegan thanksgiving went surprisingly well. My family was very supportive, and that was nice, even if it was things like "We got vegan mayo so you can eat the devilled eg... oh, shit, nevermind."

The truly uncomfortable part of the evening began with me thanking Uncle Andrew for the curry recipe, and admitting that the potluck I made it for was for a group of people who believe that his place of work is the devil. This evolved into what I thought was actually a productive discussion with a LLNL employee and an ex-LLNL employee on what they thought the benefits of the Stockpile Stewardship program were, despite the fact that neither of them like the idea of nuclear weapons. I felt like I learned things, at least.

Also, I got chased by a helicopter a couple weeks ago. Now I am trying to write my final scene for playwrighting on a strange computer, because I forgot my laptop's power cable. If I'm feeling okay about it, maybe I'll post it here instead of emailing it to myself, and let you all have a crack at editting.

crocodiletears @ 2005-10-12T00:14:00

2005-10-12T07:19:38Z

So I think I just joined the anti-war movement. I walked into the Stevenson Cafe in search of dinner (failure), and spotted a small cluster of SAW people. Since they had a couple of people I knew (Josh and Scott) I decided to approach them. This was our conversation:

"Hey, are you all SAW kids?"

"Depends. Who wants to know?"

"No, no. I just heard the military was going to be at the job fair next week, and I wanted to know if and when there was going to be a protest."

"Oh. Yeah. The time hasn't been set, but there will be flyers."

"Ok."

"You should come to our meeting on Friday at 5."

And they just stared at me for moment, but very friendly-like. And I couldn't think of any rational reason to refute that statement. They were right. I should go to their meeting. So I said "Okay. I'll be there." and they smiled and introduced themselves. And I promptly forgot their names, which is horrible. And now I've promised them, so I have to go, which is good because I'm fucking sick of not standing up for what I believe in. I just got this enormously positive vibe from them, and this time I'm really looking forward to going.

Also, my scene got performed in playwriting today, which is a big thing for me. The professor and the TA really liked it, and the other students seemed to like it alright. Half of them preferred the unedited version though. And one of them turned to me and said "how pathetic!" not about my playwriting skills -- he liked the scene -- but he felt that one of my characters was a pathetic person, and he liked that. Here's the thing: I didn't mean for her to be pathetic, I meant for the audience to empathize. I was surprised by how defensive of her I felt. At least they liked it, I guess.