Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief.

Oh WaMu. You and your devil-may-care bank nickname and usage of "sure" and "no thanks" in place of a simple "yes" or "no". I'm gonna miss you. Don't let JP Morgan Chase get all up in your business.

And I AM GOING TO SEE SOMEONE WHOM I ADMIRE VERY MUCH IN A COUPLE OF DAYS.

(That didn't really need to be in caps, but I felt the need to express my excitement.)

Charlie Kaufman is doing a Q&A following the screening of his new movie, "Synecdoche, NY". I am going to do everything in my power to ensure that I am THERE.

Alright. More later. Matt's leaving town, so I'll have more boredom/blogging time over the next week.

POSTSCRIPT: Well, THAT was a lie! And CK rules.

I swear, I've got taste. I swear.

I look around my room these days and, more often than not, I find that I have allowed 2 piles of stuff to build up. One in front of my dresser, generally consisting of various bags and discarded clothing items that couldn't be bothered to make it to my laundry basket; the other around my desk chair, made up of magazines, catalogs, shoes, junk mail and anything else I can arrange my feet to avoid. Also, my desk seems to accumulate drink containers at an alarming rate.

Now I JUST rectified this situation last weekend. Wait, it wasn't last weekend because I was gone then. It was two weekends ago, but the point is that it hasn't built up for THAT long (in Dana Mess Time). Also, I wasn't even around much in the last couple weeks. I work all day and frequently do stuff weekday evenings too and was GONE last weekend so WHY can't I seem to keep my personal area maintained?

*sigh*

Part of it may have to do with the fact that even when everything is "put away" in my room, it still looks like a cluttered mass of boxes and randomness.

I'm trying to resolve not to live like a refugee, but apparently it's difficult.

That wasn't what I meant to write about at all incidentally. I was going to mention my recent desire to actually acquire things that I think will benefit me, be they books, artwork, classes, whatever (and also a demi-promise to support artists I admire by actually purchasing their material, no matter how famous and well-off they already are). I treated myself to a couple of CD's, one of which I had just been talking about to a couple friends 2 days prior. We were talking about Liz Phair, I mentioned that I only had Whitechocolatespaceegg (which is a great album!) and Dirk said I should definitely get Exile in Guyville, that I would really like it. Fast-forward a couple days later, I'm standing in Borders, frustrated (but not surprised) not to see Amanda Palmer's new disc in the racks. Luckily, "Palmer" is pretty close to "Phair", so I saw and I grabbed. Leaving the Music department, the Ting Ting's album caught my eye and, as I have been meaning to get that for some time, I snagged that too. And upon reaching the checkout line, I was faced with Steve Martin's new autobiography Born Standing Up. It was one of those days. I stood in line, panicking a little at the thought of buying ALL THREE when I had a moment of clarity. I asked myself, "Will getting these things improve me in any way?" and I decided, "Yes."

Exile in Guyville is great, despite the fact that my computer refuses to acknowledge it.

We Started Nothing is fun, quirky music that has a great dance beat with a layer of something else going on.

Born Standing Up is terrific. I've always loved Martin's writing and this is no exception.

I'm very affected by my surroundings, so I feel that adapting them to feel like I'm in MY space is important. However that's currently limited to marking my territory with flip-flops and copies of Entertainment Weekly.

UPDATE, THE NEXT MORNING: Just noticed that I blogged on a Saturday night. Who does that?

Fo' Reals.

Man, having a full-time job is, like, time-consuming.

I mean, doing what I get paid to do at work AND doing things I want to do in my off time... It doesn't leave much time for this.

Blogging was WAY more accessible when I had a job that drove me to it through boredom.

I've also developed some hobbies.

One is theoretically designing my apartment.
This can take as much time as I feel like putting into it. It doesn't matter. I'm not going to do any of it any time soon and I'm probably going to get a whole new pack of ideas in, like, two days.

Another is making clothes.
No shit, I seriously made a shirt this weekend. That's it in the picture. A few weeks ago, I also made that skirt out of an old pair of jeans and turned a t-shirt into a halter-top. I hemmed some pants this weekend too. I AM A MACHINE. And, you know, so is my sewing machine.

Read a book the other day.

Made an impromptu basil aioli from scratch too. It didn't break or anything. I was pretty stoked.
(Foodies know what I'm talking about.)

I want to start writing more too.
Not blogging.
God, no.
REAL writing.
I got my confidence all bolstered by the lone sketch I contributed to DK's recent show (people liked it!), so I'm probably going to try and hack out a few more for the next go-round. Goooooooooo me!
(That was exhausting.)

I'm also thinking of taking another class.
Comedy, that is. Although there is a belly-dancing class I've been eyeballing for a year or so.
Seriously.
No, I figure that since I'm not currently in a show (sweetmammajamma!), I have a regular schedule (hotjambalaya!) and actual disposable income (straightdownthegarbagedisposal!), now is for shiz the time to better myself. I showed a little sack when I took an improv class at the UCB, but I took that class instead of one at the Groundlings because a) it was cheaper and b) I didn't have to audition for it which ix-nays any possible chance of rejection. Thing is I didn't feel I learned that much there. Like, it was GREAT to kick my ass and make myself get out there and do SOMETHING, but I almost feel that my teacher (a VERY sweet person) was almost too nice and didn't kick my ass as much as I may need. Now that I have the money to actually take the Groundlings course AND have a teeny bit more experience doing improv, maybe I can fully sack up and audition for the class I maybe should have taken before.

I've been going to see other people's performances. Feeling pretty good about that.

I've helped out in some Elders sketches, which was way fun. I really wanted to hang out and drink that sangria Dirk made on the Didyaknow day, but alas! I had to go douse myself in sweat and glitter.

I'm also going to be a guest judge for a live-band karaoke contest at The Derby next week. That should be interesting. Hopefully more interesting than disastrous.

Wow.
Little hungry now.
See you at the fridge.

Writing it down so that maybe it will happen

This is more of a reminder to myself than anything. Maybe a bit of a declaration of intent so that, you know, I already said I was going to do it so I better at least give it a shot.

I'm going to attempt to make clothes.
Yeah.
Gettin crafty.

There's this awesome mint green Hello Kitty sewing machine, a bit smaller than a standard sewing machine, nicely portable, good to store and fucking adorable. It also got really good performance reviews, so this only justifies my desire to purchase a mint green sewing machine with a cartoon cat emblazoned on its casing.

Plus, I've been finding all these sweet websites on how to make things, providing patterns for cute clothes and such. I've been thinking about the sewing machine aspect of this for a while merely for use during DK Sweatshop work. I think that trying to make my own clothes would be bad-ass and empowering and thrifty and artistic and, quite possibly, a total train wreck which ends in me only using the sewing machine to make pirate sashes and genie belts. Even still, not a total loss.

I'm going to make clothes.
It's not going to be Project Runway up in my apartment...
(More like Project Run Away! Hey-Oh!)
... but I think I'll give it a shot.

I don't get it!!!!!

I never really wanted a Facebook page to begin with.

You see, I'm a staunch fan of the MySpace. I got into that about a year before the damn thing blew up and everybody and their moms got profiles, so I was really happy when it got more popular and I began connecting with people I hadn't heard from forever.

Apparently this wasn't enough for some people.
So I was bullied into getting a Facebook account.
*sigh*
I just. Don't. Get it.

Now with MySpace, sure, there's a fair amount of vapid spamming and people trying to collect friends like the Hungry Hungry Hippos, but you can typically avoid that. People send you messages, comments and event invitations. Cool. Fine, I can handle that. The bulletin system is good because if you want to ignore the damn things, you can. If someone sends too many stupid ones, you have the option to delete them from you friend list on the spot! Instant retribution! You can also personalize your page with a little creative HTML code and don't have to rely on a bunch of applications to fill up your space.

Fucking Facebook? I get hardly any ACTUAL messages or comments from my Facebook connections, who are a group that varies from old college professors to good buddies from school in Hong Kong to a guy I've known since I was about 4 but haven't seen in the last 8 years. I just got a friend-request today from a guy that I know went to my high-school, I was never really buddies with and of whom my strongest memory is him squirting Elmer's glue up his nose in 2nd grade. I added him anyway though. Why? Because I know he will never ACTUALLY attempt to contact me. I never hear from ANY of these people! I'm sure this is partly because I log on about once a month, but this doesn't stop them from "poking" me, sending me "drinks" and "plants" and any number of invitiations to take a quiz or join a group. Allegedly, I'm a Zombie, a Vampire AND a Slayer. I don't think I should be able to be any of these things.

Now one might read this and just feel that I'm being an anti-social Facebook user. This is probably true but in all fairness, Facebook pushed me away. If it wasn't cluttered up with so much stupid, I might give it the time of day.

If you want me, I'll be on MySpace changing my song, updating my preferences and sending personalized messages. And feeling very smug about it.

Intrigued? Then click on it, dammit!

DK's comin'. Hide your heart, girl.

(What?)

Things I've missed out on

All these years.
*sigh*
In the 22 years since its release, I had never seen "Pretty in Pink".
Turns out I really like it. The only thing I didn't like about "Pretty in Pink" is Andie's shoddy treatment of Duckie. I gotta say, I have a bit of a retroactive crush on Jon Cryer circa 1986. This is not much unlike when I was 5 and, thanks to re-runs, had a thing for Davy Jones of The Monkees. But come on! How can you not love a man who appreciates Otis Redding?



Even Annie Potts looks a little turned on.

I've also been watching The Mary Tyler Moore show (thanks Hulu!) and appreciating the genius that is Valerie Harper.