OK, fine. You win.

So I had a mini-epiphany at lunch today. I realized that I'm being waaay too picky about the neighborhood I move to in the city. My comrade and coworker Jeremiah informed me that, yes, in fact I am the lowest-paid staff member at the magazine. He, of course, found this out by underhanded means, and I had to force the information out of him since he didn't want to tell me that, yes, in fact I am the lowest-paid staff member.

Then he asked me if I found an apartment yet. This question prompted me to realize that I'm being way too picky and if I wasn't so picky I probably would have moved out by now. Up until now, I had no qualms about spending $600 on rent plus utilities to live in Lakeview or Lincoln Park or somewhere all the action is. But now I realize, hey, as long as I'm living by a train station, pretty much any place I move to is just a short ride to Funville. Plus most neighborhoods have at least a couple decent neighborhood bars and cool restaurants. And movie theaters are much more prominent on the North Side than where I live now. There isn't even a movie theater in my neighborhood now, how sad is that?

Marlyn has been so good these past two weeks looking for apartments and sending me the links to the cool ones she finds, and I've been doing nothing but blowing her off, saying "That's too far" or "That's not party-ish enough." Well enough! I'm going to be 25 in 10 days and even though my salary is miniscule, there is no reason for me to still be living with my parents.

I think me and Marlyn will have a lot of fun living together, and that's all that matters. Where I live at this point isn't that important. It can't be that important. I can't afford for it to be that important. The CTA is great and can get you anywhere you need to be. I'll still be able to hang out wherever, I just won't be right in the midst of it right now. I'll be on the outskirts until I make more money.

And from my experience, the view is always much better from further away.

I want to get a new tattoo...

...but I don't know what to get. I have lots of ideas and lots of interesting body parts I'm interested in having tattooed, but I don't know what will look good where and if any of them will look good at all! Here's my list o'body parts I want inked:

-the back of my Achilles tendon area
-the top of my ring finger
-my feet/toes
-the inside of my right wrist
-the inside of either elbow
-the back or inside of my right arm (but I'm ruling this out because people are telling me I'll look butch, what with these guns and all).

The tattoos I'd like to get include, but are not limited to:

-one of those mideval lions that appear on family crests and coats of armor and whatnot
-some Chinese symbols, which I know is cliche but at least I have Chinese friends and can say a thing or two in the language
-a custom-drawn creation made with love by my artsy Mama
-a willow tree (this is a new interest since I just found out my "birth" tree or whatever is a weeping willow)
-something in Latin
-something in German
-there are a couple random phrases I'm interested in having tattooed, but that might be lame
-certain made-up symbols to remind myself about things (think "Memento" minus the memory loss)
-oh, and a portrait of the lead singer of Iron Maiden. JUST KIDDING! I know a girl who has this on her back and it's L-A-M-E lame. Then again, so is Iron Maiden. Then again, so is she.

In related news, I'm thinking of getting some new tattoo to cover up my Virgo symbol on the inside of my wrist. It's not that I don't like the tattoo, it's just that I don't like it that much. I got it on a whim and it seemed like a good idea at the time. It's not so bad, I mean I don't regret it or anything. People compliment me on it all the time. I'm just kinda like eh. It's kinda prison-ish. And it's bigger than I wanted it. I should have gotten it much smaller and dainty. My wrists are thick and manly enough.

I think I'm definitely going to shoot for a new tattoo this coming birthday, though. I'm due. So I better start thinking. I told Mom to draw me something because I wanted to get a new tat on my birth, but she hasn't done it yet. Helloooo!!! My birthday is in 11 days (holy shit!) so I better start crack'n the whip!

But I was still hungry afterwards.

I went out to lunch today with a group of really nice guys from a local animation company, and at one point the discussion turned towards my sister's trip to Guatemala. I was telling them that our great-uncle used to do missionary work there and he goes back every year or so and always brings people back with him - whomever wants to go (whoa-whomever? Look at me being all grammatically correct). So I told the guys that he wants me to go with him next year (or at some point) and that I was just kind of like, "eh," about the whole idea.

Then one of the guys said something that tripped me up. He said, "You should go. If you want to be a writer you should see that stuff." If I want to be a writer? I thought I already was a writer. My business cards say "Staff Writer." The masthead has "Staff Writer" under my name. I put "Writer" where it says "Occupation" when I filled out my last W-2 form. What about me is not a writer? I'm sitting her blogging right now for cry eye!

So now I'm thinking, Am I being presumptuous in calling myself a writer? Do I need to be prolific and popular to dub myself as such? Do I have to wait until I reach a certain age? Do I need to have a book published? Does someone with prestige in the field have to recognize me as a writer and deem me as one in some public forum?




Or maybe I am a writer and the guy just misspoke. Hee hee!

William Shakespeare I am not.

I'm slacking, I'm slacking, I'm really fucking slacking! (That was to be sung to the tune of "Tiny Toons.")

OK, from now on I P-R-O-M-I-S-E to put more effort and thought into these blogs. These are supposed to be educational, creative exercises for me, not a space to rant and rave about who sucks this week or why I'm pissed or that I'm slacking.

That's what MySpace is for ;p

Blogging for the sake of blogging.

I have soooo much work to do still but I so badly don't want to do it. I'm going to be up very late tomorrow night and Tuesday night. Of course I could always be doing work now, and I should. I'm starting to feel overloaded. I think I really need some help. I think the interns should start doing some of the columns so I can put more effort and energy into the features. I'm going to say that at the next meeting. Besides, it's not really fair that the only writing the interns get to do is for the crappy web stories. You can't make a decent portfolio out of web stories. They should really be getting something published in the printed magazine. Man, if I were the editor, things would really be different. Not that I want to be the editor. I don't want to be so committed to the magazine. I want to move up the publication ladder and make a name for myself before I would really commit to SCREEN. But...if Dixon did somehow get bumped from being editor...well DUH I'd totally take the posish! Happily! But for now I don't want to stay there too long. Maybe like two years max. I don't want to stagnate. I want to write about other things for other magazines. And I want to move up. Like, WAY up ;)

I love this.

I love it when I have a ridick amount of work to do but can't do anything until about 75 people return my calls and emails. I'm in total work limbo now. This means more to do over the weekend. Oh well. I don't mind being a slave to my art.

I need to find a new dress for a party the magazine's hosting on Thursday, and I have zip time to do that. I can't possibly wear anything I own! Well except the dress Ash accidentally brought to New York with him, but that dress is in New York, soooo, yeah. Where'm I gonna find a dress in the next five days when I'm gonna be super busy at work? I need a personal assistant. Just for like an afternoon to go dress shopping for me. I should have had my sister do it when she was playing Super Mario World all week.

I'm so excited for this party. There's going to be so many cool people there, and a lot of people who I've spoken too but never actually met. It's gonna be rad! Especially since my boss has been telling me that people in the industry around town are starting to talk about me. I'm not sure what the means exactly, or what they're saying, but I know it's good, so I'm excited! And I have to look good. Plus, it's a party, and that always spells fun, especially with these crazy people I work with!

God I need a big fucking distraction!!!

Oops. I did it again.

I'm just going to use the same excuse I used in my last post. I got another story finished well before deadline, hence it's OK that I didn't blog yesterday. I was just too busy. Plus I got home at like 1 a.m. But from now on, no excuses!

Well I must say, I'm quite relieved because for the past two weeks I was pretty convinced I was pregnant, making this my fourth legitimate pregnancy scare (the last one was only a month or so ago, too. Not good.) I'm DEFINITELY going back on the pill, for this and other reasons, namely the horrible cramps I suffer when I'm not all jacked up on birth control. It's awful. Thankfully, I'm not pregnant, and I wholeheartedly promise to be extremely more careful in the future, because an abortion is simply not in my budget.

What is so hard about choosing a paint chip?

Week two and I already fucked up. Totally skipped yesterday. How dedicated. Well I fell asleep watching a movie with my sister, so is that a good excuse? Spending time with family? Oh, I did write yesterday! I got an entire article for the magazine done a whole week before deadline! Yeah, that counts. My daily writing quota has been fulfilled.

But back to the paint chips. What a task! Definitely my hardest since I started this job. Why do there have to be SO MANY COLORS! And why are there so many gradations of every color? I wish I could have five offices so each one could be a different color. But I have one office, therefore one color. I've narrowed it down to five different shades of purple, but I'm leaning more towards three. I need a second and third and fourth opinion. Originally I was going to go bright orange, but I think it would give me a headache. This green is obnoxious enough, but I love it! Can't do green again, though. I need to move on. Time for a change. New office, new color.

(OK - since I started this post this afternoon at work, and it is now 11:16 p.m., I have finalized my choice of paint to Fire and Ice, a deep, rich, purple. It's going to be kind of dark, but I think it will look dramatic with the white ceiling/trim and the hardwood floors. Plus I have some bright shit to hang on the walls and whatnot.)

Still gassy.

Really nasty, too.

I need to go to the doctor. I finally have health insurance effective today.

I don't care what anybody says, if some dude offers to pay for your plane ticket to Cancun, he wants you to sleep with him.

This new cell phone I got needs to be admitted for psychiatric evaluation. I hate it. Fucking Nokia.

I'm having all kinda of miscellaneous pains today - my ear, my stomach - I really need to go to the doctor.

Blah.

I hate these days when you make too many plans and probably end up doing nothing. Like if there's nothing going on, so you just decide to have a chill night at a friend's place, but then another friend calls you and invites you to a party. Obviously you'd rather go to the party, but you already kinda told the other friend you'd hang with her. So what do you do? You mention the party to the chill friend, who gets miffed because you're ditching her, but at the same time chill friend knows you'd rather be at the party so she'd rather have you go there than sit with her when you don't really want to. Chill friend gets bumped to second choice and is therefore peeved whether you hang out with her or not. Of course the right thing to do would be just to hang with chill friend since you made plans with her first, but it is your life and you should be able to do what you want, which is go to the party. Either way you're screwed. You either go to the party and feel bad for ditching chill friend, or miss out on the party and end up sitting around with a peeved friend who knows you'd rather be somewhere else. I've never known what to do when this happens, but I do know that I'm way more gassy right now than I should be.

Can sex ever be just sex?

And so concludes my week of frustration, with today being the peak. I could list the sources of my discontent, but that would just be a long rant of things I have no control over. So I'll just keep them bottled inside along with the rest of my feelings I don't wish to share. Dang, it's getting crowded in there!

I've been feeling like my personality is stagnating. Lately, it seems all I do is work, get drunk, sleep, eat, work some more, get drunk again, etc. I've been thinking of ways to make myself more interesting, and I've decided I should take some classes or something. There are so many things I'm interested in, and it's a great way to meet new people. But I need to wait until I move out of here because I don't want to start something and then have to up and leave. And I expect the moving out to happen very soon. Like I'm talking October 1. That's already waaaay past the original deadlines I set for myself.

Marlyn suggested a book club. She said she'd be interested in joining, too. Now don't get me wrong, I love to read (I'm serious!) but I just don't have that intellectual capacity to analyze every little detail in that scholarly, bookish way. Trust me, I know this. I spent the better part of college in Lit classes and let me tell you, I don't know how the hell anyone's supposed to read Shakespeare without Cliff's Notes.

But I can have more general, casual conversations about books. I do that all the time. Maybe it's not such a bad idea. I'm smart. Just as long as we're not reading "The Canterbury Tales" or anything like that (been there, done that, fell asleep).

There's some other stuff I want to get into, too. Like I'd love to take a ceramics class. I know I'd be good at that shit. I'm artsy. I'm also thinking of getting into fashion merchandising because that will really help me get into Vogue and take over Anna Wintour's job coup d'etat style. That bitch is goin' down!

Just kiddin', Anna, love ya! Look'n good, mama, keep up the great work ;)

Oh yeah, now I remember.

Know what I just realized? I have exactly five years and three weeks to accomplish one of the most important goals I set for myself. I have to publish a book and go on a book tour by the time I'm 30. OK, maybe the tour is a stretch, but the book thing is definitely doable. If I don't meet that goal I'm gonna be, like, so pissed. Time to hunker down on the brainstorming and start drafting some ideas, because those five years are going to go by quick!

In other news, I'm sooo tired of people saying or doing something to piss me off, and then when I get pissed, they tell me I have an attitude problem. Attitude problem? You just whipped a string of Mardi Gras beads in my face, asshole!

Alright, obviously I'm uninspired and uninterested right now. My mind is on too many other things to even post about anything worth talking about. I have adult ADD...so...AADD? Double A and double D. Those are some smaaaall and huuuuuge titties!

I forgot what I was gonna say...

I thought of something really good that I was going to blog about whilst driving earlier, but I forgot what it was. Now I'm just blogging for the sake of me promising myself to write a blog every day as compensation for me not doing any extracurricular writing outside of pay.

And no, I did not intend for that to rhyme.

Some random ideas

So I mentioned in my previous post that I haven't written anything not-for-profit in what seems like ages, but that doesn't mean I haven't had some mean ideas, know what I mean? (Yes, I did just say that.)

So for memory's sake, and so I can keep a record of my ideas as they develop, I will make a list of them here. I'm also going to see how many times I can start a sentence with the word "so."

1) I have to write a short story about a trip mom and I took to Iowa to visit some old family friends. The trip was DISASTROUS in every sense of the word - with the exception of an actual natural disaster occuring. I say I "have" to write this because my friend/coworker Keith is literally waiting for me to write it so he can script it and turn it into a film. But I told him I get to play myself.

2) I also have to write a story about my two-year stint at a Chinese immigration law firm. (Once again, yes, I did just say that.) I could write an entire book about the happenings during this miserable period of my life. Long story short, I fell into the job unknowingly and immediately got in way over my head. I was put-upon, had to put up with and metaphorically put out for a group of damn-near impossible lawyers who get paid astronomical sums of money but can't figure out how to use a calling card or load paper into a copier. "That's how all lawyers are," you say? This is true, but let me tell you - you ain't heard nothin' like this! (While I'm on the subject of Chinese-owned companies, I'd like to bring up a recent Glamour article entitled "The Dos & Don'ts of dining at your desk," which contains a segment about most-complained about foods. At the end of this disclaimer, almost as a side note as if to say, "Duh, this is a no-brainer," reads "Never ever bring fish." I could literally go on for chapters about how much that office stunk during lunch time. Thank you, Tram Kim Nguyen, for siding with me on this one!)

3) I'm also interested in writing something about the post-college, early- to mid-twenties social arena, AKA "the bar scene." After several brief hiatuses I'm back in full swing and, although it's been talked about nearly to death, it's not quite dead yet, and as long as alcohol is still being manufactured, it will never die. So I may as well do as they say on "Strangers With Candy" and "go with what I know." As would be expected, I do have some crazy stories to tell. At least the topic would be approached from a completely different perspective. If nothing else, it would be good practice for me.

So those are the three biggies right now. I have other stuff in the works, but those ideas are so scant I wouldn't be able to make a single, coherent sentence out of them, as they now consist of random words jotted in a notebook that would probably no longer make sense to me if I went back and reread them.

(Number of time "so" has been used to start a sentence = 4)

The Reason Why (no, not the Ladytron song)...

...because, technically, I'm a writer. I mean, that's what I get paid to do, and yet the only writing I do is what I get paid for, which is a total sellout thing to do. I haven't journaled or diaried since...pfffff...college? I haven't written a poem, short story, sketch or anything remotely close to those in quite some time. How can I call myself an artist if I don't hone my craft? How can I gain literary strength if I don't exercise my creative muscle?

I figure, I'm on the computer 90 hours a day anyway, might as well start a blog. But I refuse to join MySpace. Except for the few bright spots among MySpacers, the vast majority are whiney, emo pseudo-artists who are either addicted to anti-depressants or should be. And people who want to get laid. Personally, I have no problem in any of those arenas, soI have no business being on MySpace.

Therefore, a blog is born! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to throw my laundry in the dryer...