The Poor Broken Hearted

I see the neon lights
The man onstage reminds me of you
The rhythm of your breath and your heart
In the beat of the base
That night so long ago and deep in my memory
Forgive me, I never meant to hurt you
I woke up too late afterward
I thought you were like everyone else
But that just goes to show that we never knew each other
At all

Comic Time!

Buy this Book

My friend Shores self-published this really funny book. Called Lotto, Scratchers and Tall Cans. It reminds me of a book a young George Carlin or Bill Maher would write. It's smartly written and sarcastically funny as hell. It's published on Lulu.com you can click on the title of this blog or go to Lulu and search Ryan Shores if you're interested. 

I wanna throw my Shoe!!!

Am I the only one in this country who is disturbed if not freaked out by all of these new "laws" that Bush is trying to throw in under the wire? The last one I heard about (but curiously can't find info about on the news sites) is that a medical person, doctor, pharmacist, etc. could refuse to give you medication if they have a moral objection to it. What the hell? Then why be in the field? So there would be a possibility that someone would deny me birth control if they thought it meant I was a slut? or I can't get meds cause they believe that I actually have satan inside instead of a tumor. Jesus that's all I need when I have to deal with our bullshit healthcare, some "official" with the ideals of Tom Cruise. If this is gonna pass then I wanna be a pharmacy tech so that I can deny boner pills to old men cause I believe when they turn 65 it's time to stop fucking, hey if they can dish it they better be able to take it. What is up with Bush and these "laws" and then holding "friendly", "productive" meetings with President-elect Obama? Doesn't everyone hate it when it's time for your work shift and the asshole before you made a mess of your work station. Man, maybe we should all take turns chucking our shoes at him.

Now time for some pretty girls!!

Penny says fuck you to botox...

Just a kick back kind of day...

Hollywood dreams?

Out of nowhere I started listening to Jagged little Pill, I forgot how much I love that album. How I loved it when I was a girl, and right after it was a P.J Harvey song (M-Bike) Damn, I'm in love with my Ipod. I'm watching Prey for Rock and roll, It's such a cheesy movie but I love Gina Gershon. I'm prepping myself for the move back. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, knowing that I'll be going there in snowy weather isn't exciting me exactly, but I am preparing on going back and taking the city by the balls cause I have no other choice but to do so. I worked my ass of to get there now I have to work my ass of there to get back here/hollywood. 

A fairy tale, Pt II

There once was a boy who was fascinated by the sea. His father was a sailor, his father's father was a sailor and as a child that what he knew he wanted to be. From morning 'til dusk he would wander the shore placing seashells, sand dollars, and any bit of glass that the ocean had smoothed into jewels into his pocket until they were ready to burst. He wanted to know what it was like to ride on the water; what mysteries did the ocean hold? He had heard the stories of the sailors passed on from generation to generation about the monsters and the kingdoms under the water. Someday, he told himself, he would find them out. 

One day he found himself a man, a sailor, trading goods from port to port always returning to his home at the end of his journey to his sweet, pretty fiance. His fiance had everything he thought he could ever want from a woman. She was blonde with eyes the cobalt blue of the Atlantic. She too was fascinated by the sea, it's creatures and it's shells, however she never set foot in the water. It's strength frightened her. So, she would wait at the port for the Sailor to come home. 

The Sailor was on his route to Morocco. The waters were still, a dead calm. The was a splash and he saw a glitter of a blue fin slip under the water. Too small to be a shark, he thought to himself. He ran to the bow but he couldn't see which way it had gone. That night, he lay on deck in a dreamless sleep, until he thought he heard a soft singing. It was so beautiful that he began to hum along only to have it returned with laughter. He woke instantly. Perched on the railing was a woman. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. It was a woman with dark eyes and dark hair. She had a long tail that twinkled like silver diamonds in the moonlight. 

So the stories are true? He asked not knowing he said this out loud.

She laughed softly at him and reached out her hand. On the inside of her wrist he could make out the three slits that were gills. She laughed when he noticed. 

You may come with me if you like, She said, You are the one.

Every fiber of his being longed to take her hand.

If you fear death, do not, you will be safe with me.

Every story he had heard, every swim he had taken, every shore, every shell lead him to this and still he stood there. The woman looked puzzled, she withdrew her hand and her eyes began to turn very sad. She had watched him and waited for this moment all her life.

I can't, he told her, the words barely audible

Tears fell from her eyes, they glittered as she jumped back into the water.

The Sailor returned to his town a few days later. His heart was twisting when he saw his Fiance. He began to spend his nights walking alone on the beach looking for the dark haired woman. His eyes scanned the horizon in vain. His Fiance told herself that this behavior was just nerves. She told him that they would be so happy. They were married the following day. The week of the honeymoon, neither of them spoke to each other. The Sailor tried to fool himself into thinking that everything was alright. He still woke in the middle of the night thinking he heard the woman's beautiful soft laughter. The pan in his heart throbbed and he grew more distant. His wife woke one morning to find him gone. The only thing missing was his boat. She did not scan the horizons for him. When the boat returned a week later empty she knew what she had known all along.

Work in this economy?

Doing the L.A find work rain dance still. Not a bite damn. I want a friggin audition there. I would feel bad if I went back without even being considered for something. I don't know what notices are used for jobs there. The ones I found don't have any, that might just have something to do with the crappy economy. I heard that this whole auto-industry going under disaster is taking down soap operas budgets. Lord, it's the domino effect.

Just an Idea

I just read an article in an old magazine that described the person whom it was about as "one of those lucky folks who actually has her dream job." Who says that you have to be lucky to do what you want and have what you want out of life? Who says that you aren't entitled to have the life you want to have? What if the reason why we can have such passions for things the universe's [whatever name you want to call it] easy way of sorting up our lives and we are just complicating the flow with our "societies" views (which are only chosen by a few trying to keep the dregs in line) and beliefs that happiness happens with luck and knowing just a few people?

Random thought before bed...

I think listening to Beethoven while I write a blog counteracts the brain cells I am supposed to enlarge? Seriously though I just bought "the Essential Beethoven" and it's rocking my world. I love it. 

My next boyfriend better like opera, and actually want to take me to one; I have decided. Oh yes I am that kind of girl!

True Confessions pt 1

And now Story before bedtime...

The only drugs I have ever taken are Caffeine, Nicotine, and Alcohol, but that's not the confession part. I dated this frat guy that was heavy into drugs HEAVY, no unfortunately he wasn't in the one that got drug busted (that's a story for another day). So one night I am at his apartment and he's bored as hell and craving a fix and he drags me with him across campus to his friends apartment. I went into the place and the guy who lived there had people over. My boyfriend notices this guy in a corner completely stoned and introduces him all excited, saying that this guy was this amazing writer and all the other high monkeys mutter something in the affirmative to me. My boyfriend goes into another room leaving me alone with "Hunter S. Thompson" who just happens to have a copy of his book on him. He hands it to me, I politely smile and open the manuscript. It was 70 pages of adjectives strewn together with like 10 nouns, All I could gather was that the character was on a beach, i think. It was the most amazing piece of shit-waste of time ever but I give him props for actually getting himself into a state (or anyone for that matter) where it would make sense. 

At this point I notice this girl come in with her boyfriend. My boyfriend comes out of the room with the host pipe in hand stoned. They sit next to me and the girl starts flirting with my boyfriend. I don't take offense cause I know that he's reaching the point where all that registers is color. The host lights up a bong and the party takes hits, when it gets passed to the girl I watch calmly as her boyfriend lights her hair instead of the pipe and the only one in the party that notices is me and I don't say shit. Lets put it this way, the chick burned herself a new pair of bangs before anyone noticed anything, ZEXY...

Sweet dreams 

Comic Time

Post #100, woohoo! 

For all you San Diegans

I went to December nights at Balboa park tonight. It's alright if you like really crowded fairs (think a packed Del Mar Fair) but I had fun with the people I was with, saw some Irish dancing and some art. While I was there I ran into a friend who started a business with her daughter. Her daughter dresses up like a princess and goes to little girl parties and sings and stuff. It's a super cute idea so if you happen to know any little girls (or boys) who would like a princess to appear at their party heres where you can get the info:

www.mysingingprincessparty.com

On a side note which has nothing to do with anything, I am watching the new texas chainsaw massacre; wow could they attempt to make this movie any more shallow and complicated do I really need to see Jessica Biel running through a slaughterhouse literally? That is all...

All about the community

So, I've decided to apply for Grad schools at least for now, who knows what my life will be like from one minute to the next. I've been apply to gigs in LA but no one has bit yet. It's so easy in New York I've had to turn down parts while I am here, what is L.A.'s problem? I found out today, that an old friend dropped me and blocked me from myspace and I find it sad and comical as hell. I really don't know what I did to this person and I am surprised that I actually noticed cause I am rarely on there. But wow, I've spoken to this person awhile ago and everything seemed normal. I am going to end up erasing my profile eventually, this whole internet community thing is so strange and silly that instead of someone telling you to leave them alone they can just go. Even when it seems like they were all there. P.S If your reading this this is the last second I will ever think on you.

Doggie Doggie

My 13 year old dog named Wilbur died today. He was a black Dachshund that we got when he was a puppy from the litter of my Grandmothers dog. I kind of had a feeling about him when I saw him when I got home. He wasn't looking well. He hadn't been eating for the last couple of days and I went out today and looked into his dog house and he wasn't breathing. God, this is the hardest part about having pets, you know they don't live long compared to us but it doesn't make the attachment any less severe. It made me think for some reason, where did this little spirit go? My poor little dog all cold and curled up with his eyes closed. I know some people find it silly to be so attached to an animal but I am one of those people who find it hard not to be. And, in away if you've had an animal in your life for a long time like Wilbur, it's almost like a part of your past died with him. If that makes any sense, like it's time to move on and live. Poor little guy. Bye Wilbur, I love you.