Wednesday, December 31, 2008
I pooped in private. She pooped in front of her Mom. And Amelia. Maybe I am the weird one afterall...
I think I'm going through this. It began in the Fall. And it's only just the beginning
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
People.
I went to acting class for the second week in a row. Normally I only go to see Gigi, but tonight we went out and I made two new friends.
Carole. She's an older woman from Springfield, Missouri (She pronounced it "Missourah"). Carole has been taking Judaic Study courses with her Rabbi. She grew up Presbyterian but converted to Judaism around 25 years ago. Carole said her mother wasn't very happy about this. When her mother spoke to the pastor about conversion, he apparently took a long pause and replied "Well, it could've been worse." I agree. She also studies astrology, and volunteered to do my astrological chart. Not only does she study astrology, but she also studies numerology.
Here's my birthday number broken down:
March 31, 1987 = 3 + 4 + 10 + 15 = 32 = 3 + 2 = 5
5. According to Carole, the number 5 is associated with mental souls. The number of America. The date the Declaration of Independence was signed also adds up to a 5. FDR was also this number. She continued to say that I'd work well doing something with the government.
Elizabeth Digati. I met her in class last week. She's an old student of Gigi's. She went out LA almost 7 years ago, to pursue her dream as an actor. Soon after she moved out there she learned that she had a condition that, if not treated, will make her lose all of her teeth in less than 2 years. Then she found out she had another condition, bumps all over chest, that if not taken care of she would die. So, she put her dreams on hold and took care of herself. Over the course of her treatment she took medicine that caused her to lose who she was. As if these weren't bad enough, she got in a major car accident. So much has happened to stop her from living, but she keeps fighting. She continues to fight because she has no other choice (except to die, of course, but she's an Italian). Liz hadn't performed in almost 5 years until coming back to class. Listening to her talk, to her story, makes you appreciate what you have.
We got the chance to do some improv together, and I must tell you...she's pretty good. A god-given talent. And honest to a fault. I adore the hell out of this woman.
After last week's improv, we had a good long hug and told her "I don't know if you know this, but we just became friends." She goes back to LA tomorrow. I plan on keeping in touch with her.
Moral of the story: Get to know people. Don't write them off just yet.
Carole. She's an older woman from Springfield, Missouri (She pronounced it "Missourah"). Carole has been taking Judaic Study courses with her Rabbi. She grew up Presbyterian but converted to Judaism around 25 years ago. Carole said her mother wasn't very happy about this. When her mother spoke to the pastor about conversion, he apparently took a long pause and replied "Well, it could've been worse." I agree. She also studies astrology, and volunteered to do my astrological chart. Not only does she study astrology, but she also studies numerology.
Here's my birthday number broken down:
March 31, 1987 = 3 + 4 + 10 + 15 = 32 = 3 + 2 = 5
5. According to Carole, the number 5 is associated with mental souls. The number of America. The date the Declaration of Independence was signed also adds up to a 5. FDR was also this number. She continued to say that I'd work well doing something with the government.
Elizabeth Digati. I met her in class last week. She's an old student of Gigi's. She went out LA almost 7 years ago, to pursue her dream as an actor. Soon after she moved out there she learned that she had a condition that, if not treated, will make her lose all of her teeth in less than 2 years. Then she found out she had another condition, bumps all over chest, that if not taken care of she would die. So, she put her dreams on hold and took care of herself. Over the course of her treatment she took medicine that caused her to lose who she was. As if these weren't bad enough, she got in a major car accident. So much has happened to stop her from living, but she keeps fighting. She continues to fight because she has no other choice (except to die, of course, but she's an Italian). Liz hadn't performed in almost 5 years until coming back to class. Listening to her talk, to her story, makes you appreciate what you have.
We got the chance to do some improv together, and I must tell you...she's pretty good. A god-given talent. And honest to a fault. I adore the hell out of this woman.
After last week's improv, we had a good long hug and told her "I don't know if you know this, but we just became friends." She goes back to LA tomorrow. I plan on keeping in touch with her.
Moral of the story: Get to know people. Don't write them off just yet.
Monday, December 29, 2008
For The First Time
My mom and I have been to a number of stores after Christmas, both during the day and at night, and I've come to a conclusion: No matter when or where, retail employees are assholes.
Look, I get it: Retail employees are tired and over-worked, but I'm tired of dealing with them. They're working...At their job which, by the way, they're don't deserve. Here's the deal: Don't try and get me out of the store unless it's at the end of the night and I want to keep looking despite my purchases...
...Maybe it's all a tactic: They don't want anyone to come in and buy things. Maybe it's a form of self-mutilation in which they're purposefully fuelling a bad situation in order to make it worse. Maybe they want their stores to cave in.
I can see it now: The managers gather their employees, who are all ready to go with their red shirts and coffee in hand (Yes, they have red shirts. Because it's Costco.), in order to watch an instructional video on how to not to get the sale. Perhaps a form of economic suicide. The company is the possible suicide victim and the employees are the enablers. It all fits.
Though this rant is a bitch fest, all hope is not lost. I have a solution. All these PMSing retail workers need to do is make sure they keep chocolate squares in their pockets! I know that when I get annoyed I run to the fridge, get a piece of chocolate and walk out feeling optimistic. 25 feet later I look into the mirror and see how fat my ass is...and we're back to where we started.
Look, I get it: Retail employees are tired and over-worked, but I'm tired of dealing with them. They're working...At their job which, by the way, they're don't deserve. Here's the deal: Don't try and get me out of the store unless it's at the end of the night and I want to keep looking despite my purchases...
...Maybe it's all a tactic: They don't want anyone to come in and buy things. Maybe it's a form of self-mutilation in which they're purposefully fuelling a bad situation in order to make it worse. Maybe they want their stores to cave in.
I can see it now: The managers gather their employees, who are all ready to go with their red shirts and coffee in hand (Yes, they have red shirts. Because it's Costco.), in order to watch an instructional video on how to not to get the sale. Perhaps a form of economic suicide. The company is the possible suicide victim and the employees are the enablers. It all fits.
Though this rant is a bitch fest, all hope is not lost. I have a solution. All these PMSing retail workers need to do is make sure they keep chocolate squares in their pockets! I know that when I get annoyed I run to the fridge, get a piece of chocolate and walk out feeling optimistic. 25 feet later I look into the mirror and see how fat my ass is...and we're back to where we started.
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