And on the seventh day...

...I wasn't there so I can't really say for anyone else but me.
I received my copy of Northern Exposure Complete 3rd season in the mail on Saturday. God Bless Amazon.com. I spent, however long it takes to watch 23 episodes in a row, with my butt in the lazy boy and my eyes transfixed upon the glowing box. Then with a grin on my face and a cheerful tune playing in my head, I went to sleep for 20 hours. Why they wait 6 months to release each season is more than frustrating, it's unAmerican, it pisses me off. I remember when the show first went on the air, I thought it was the greatest show ever created. Besides "The Daily Show" N. Exposure is the only show I actually set my life around so I wouldn't miss it. I was devastated when they took it off the air. More devastated than when "Bloom County" ended. I said I would never get attached to a show again, but then John Steward and The Daily Show came along and I made amends with my TV. Of Course now I don't have cable so even that's gone. So far N. Exposure is up to three seasons out of seven. If they keep up their 6 month release schedule, I won't have all seven seasons until 2007, I could be dead by then! What is wrong with these people who insist on holding the remaining seasons hostage until 2007? We need to write our elected officials and insist they intervene on our behalf! Have sit-ins at Universal Studios. Demand that all seasons be released NOW! Who's with me?

Comments

Dictionary.com defines comment as:
1.
a. A written note intended as an explanation, illustration, or criticism of a passage in a book or other writing; an annotation.
b. A series of annotations or explanations.
c. A statement of fact or opinion, especially a remark that expresses a personal reaction or attitude.
2.
a. An implied conclusion or judgment
b. Talk; gossip

As a kid I always hated dictionaries. The world I grew up in didn't have spell check. I would always complain to my mom and teachers, "How are you supposed to be able to look up a word if you don't know how to spell it in the first place?" It never made sense to me. A friend once gave me the "Bad Speller's Dictionary" but I guess I'm not that bad because I couldn't find words in that book either. The good news is that now I can type a word into places like Dictionary.com and it will give me several options to choose from until I find the correct word. The thing that always amazes me about looking up words I think I already know the definition to is that I am usually surprised. Like comment. I never knew one of it's definitions is "Gossip". I certainly didn't know it could be a statement of fact!

When I worked at Blockbuster Video, I ran into the most astonishing phenomenon. There are a lot of video renters who are completely intimidated by the new release wall. Apparently, it only takes one bad movie to make them afraid they will end up picking another lemon. For some there is a lot of pressure. Maybe there is a group waiting at home and the movie you came for is gone, what should you do? Maybe you only have time to see one movie and you're overwhelmed with the idea that this one has to be good, or else. Whatever the reason, I would sit there and watch people stare at the new release wall until their eyes glazed. Or else, talk on their cell phone until they've read every cover box movie description, sometimes going back and reading most of them a second time, only to hang up frustrated. At BlockBuster, every employee had their own set of regular customers. Customers that would avoid any bit of personal choice and pressure (it's not my fault, the clerk recommended it). Said customer would seek out their most trusted employee and ask for a "Good" movie. At the end of a year of employment, not only was I the best at figuring out what movie a "stupid customer" was trying to find (True question, "It's like LA but it's not". The answer is "Keys to Tulsa". I noticed "2 Days in the Valley" and "Keys to Tulsa" had the same picture on their cover boxes), but I also had the most customers asking for "Good" movies. Apparently I have a knack for matching up people with movies. Instead of stars or thumbs, my movie rating system is very easy to understand.

"I loved it."= this, unfortunately, is not a term I use to rate most movies. This is for movies I could watch again and again and again.......and still laugh or still cry or still find something new.

"It didn't suck."= this is where the majority of movies fall. Movies that I didn't have to pay to see and they were ok. Movies that are amazing the first time but don't hold up to multiple viewings. Movies that made millions of dollars because everybody else loved it but I wasn't impressed. All of these types of movies fall into this category.

"It was 2 hours of my life I will never get back."= While I find it nearly impossible to turn off a movie just in case something good finally happens, I have turned off one and I can't even remember the title of it. Very few movies end up in this category. Right now, as I am typing, I can only think of four. Two of them won Oscars. "Breaking the Waves", "Monster's Ball", "Vulgar" and "The Neverending Story II". Monster's Ball, in particular, was nearly impossible to watch once Heath's character died, I came very close to shutting it off and walking away.

I remember at the Vulgerthon 2005 I met Bryan Johnson (aka Steve-Dave) in the theater's hallway. I asked him if he was anything like any of the characters he had played. He asked me if I had seen Vulger. Instead of answering with a simple, non embarrassing yes, I said "it was 2 hours of my life I will never get back.... God it was awful..... (pause).... no offence." I felt like such an idiot. I turned red and looked at the ground. He laughed. Someone nearby asked him what was so funny. Next thing I know, there are 20 people standing around as he retells his question and my answer. I wouldn't tell Spielberg that E.T. didn't suck, so why would I tell Mr. Johnson that Vulger was 2 hours of my life I would never get back. Long story short, I have never been able to make a long story short. I guess my high opinion of my high opinions was bound to bite me in the butt some day. I hope it doesn't' happen at this blog.....

Home Business

Along with the many jobs I previously posted, I've always been on the lookout for a job I could do from home. Way back in 1994, I got talked into AMWAY. Long story short, it didn't work out for me. When our family first moved to Redding, my mom found out that AMWAY detergent was about the only thing on the planet that could get the red clay-like dirt, Redding is built on, out of clothing. Thirteen years later, when I become an AMWAY distributor, I can't even get my mom to buy it. Since She had an empty nest and she doesn't play in the mud, she didn't see a need for it anymore. A year ago, I signed up for Melaleuca Inc., a wellness company. Instead of calling it multilevel marketing it's "consumer direct sales". Still, everyone I've talked to doesn't want to do it because it sounds too much like AMWAY. At least this time I didn't even try to bother my "friends and family". Today I went online and found How2bSuccessful.com, this is "vertical skip marketing" associated with Herbalife. Why does this all sound the same to me? Most importantly, why am I always a sucker for it? I guess I figure birds of a feather flock together. If I fell for it, I'm sure to attract others who would fall for it at a profit for me. Who knows, maybe someday I'll trip and fall into money. Wouldn't that be great? I'll keep you posted profit wise if anything ever becomes of this. So far, I've made $79 with AMWAY (after a $105 start up fee) and $23 with Melaleuca (after a $39 start up fee). If I do this V.S.M. thingy with Herbalife, it'll be about $140 start up fee.

I've always been an optimistic pessimist= the boat probably won't sink. (unless it's the Titanic).

Apathy

Dictionary.com defines apathy as:
1. Lack of interest or concern, especially regarding matters of general importance or appeal; indifference.
2. Lack of emotion or feeling; impassiveness.

I really considered not typing anything today, but it's hard to take a break from doing nothing. I've tried. When I first signed up for this blogger thingy I though, hey, I could pretend to be a real writer. Now, I'm thinking Wendy was right to want to go home after spending time in Neverland. My brother and I were watching "Step Into Liquid" before I left So Cal. He's a surfer from Santa Cruz (his favorite spot is Steamer's Lane) among other things. There was a line in the movie describing Hollywood's view of surfers, something about wising up to the importance of "hard shoes". My grandpa (mom's dad) had used the expression with me when I quit my Straw Hat Pizza job. He said "There will always be people who don't think you should be doing what you're doing but remember it's always their reasons, not yours." He was a concert pianist in the 1930's and 40's. "Work is Work and you should always take pride in that. Never abandon something just because you don't like it or you'll be lost and in debt your whole life." Someone must have stolen his crystal ball, because I never found it, but he sure had my future pegged. I was lucky enough to pay off all my debt when my grandma (dad's ma) died this last year. Of course, if I don't find a job soon, I'll be right back in it. Fortunately, nobody sees fit to give me a credit card or loan, so I can't go too far down.

I remember the first time I heard "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)" by Baz Luhrmann. It was like a light bulb going off above my head.
My (first) fiance had dumped me just before I found out he'd been cheating on me. I had a miscarriage. I had just moved to Eureka after, what I felt was failing at life. My family ended up with a huge new skeleton in its collective closet. It was the first time I'd ever moved anywhere where I didn't know anyone. I didn't have a job and I didn't know if I was going to be able to find one. I was 26 years old. Not only did I not know what I wanted to do with my life, but I thought that every dream I had grown up with of what I wanted to be (when I grew up) was never ever going to happen. A friend introduced me to this Sunscreen piece and the clouds parted, the sun shown down...."I can see clearly now the rain has gone".....and in Humboldt if you could imagine. I just went online to get the lyrics. I thought I would reprint them for you, but it's four pages, I think not. You can look it up if you want. I will reprint three parts to bring us back to where I was trying to go however.

....don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.......Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life, the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't......Maybe you'll Marry, maybe you won't; maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary, whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either- your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's......

Apathy, to me, is an emotion that happens when the world and its problems seem so much more humungous than me and my problems....who am I to complain about my dreams not being fulfilled when there is so much greed and war and starvation? I can't do anything about anything, none of this matters. In essence, I don't matter. That's the way I started to feel about this blog, none of this matters. In truth, having people read stuff that I wrote has always been a dream of mine since I was in the 2nd grade. I wanted to write for Halmark. Then in 4th grade, I wanted to write a book like Shel Silverstein or Dr. Seuss. I figured I could be a writer and still be a mommy. Well I'm pretty sure at this point, I'll never be a mommy, but I could still be a writer, here if nowhere else. If this blog is here, people can find it and if they can find it, they could read it. Dream accomplished, easy as pie. I don't mean to stray but I've never understood that saying. I always burn pie.

Anyway, here's one of the last poems I wrote. I'll warn you. It's the longest poem I ever wrote and unlike most of my stuff, it doesn't have much rhyme in it. There is also a curse word or two in it. Sorry if it offends, but it works for me. Most of my friends like it because of the movie references and because "it sound just like" me.

The title is "Me, Anyways...."

I can't find my keys
Did I hand them to you?
I tend to misplace them a lot,
will you help me find them?

Anyway, let's start at the beginning.....
I used to play the saxophone.
I bet you didn't know that about me,
but there's a lot you don't know,
yet.
Although we've already discussed how
sometimes I get lost in thought,
and how unfamiliar that territory can be,
it seems almost, for both of us.
In new relationships, there is so much dirt to remove.
Though I know, somehow, the treasure is there.
Actually, your eyes confided in me
when you weren't looking.
Eyes can be like a best friend
betraying you
until something good comes of it.

Anyway, back to the beginning.....
You know, that place you make people go
to start again, when it seems they're too close to winning?

My dad used to say
"The world is a cold cruel place."
and mom never let me go outside
without my jacket
(lest I catch my death).
But Richard Bach wrote,
"Walls don't protect you, they isolate you."
I chose to believe him instead,
the silly ideal's of a child.
Now I'm freezing 'cause I lent my jacket,
my protection from the cold.
I dreamed of thawing out in the mild winters of Tahiti
but with my luck, I'd get lost on my way there.
Probably somewhere near the Bermuda Triangle.
I tend to do that, you know,
hand my self to him,
losing myself completely.
I've lost countless jackets that way.
It's not very cost effective, I almost went broke.
But I find when I let him freeze instead,
he never quite warms up to me.

Anyway, back to the beginning....
You know, that place you go
to start again
once you've won
(sore loser).

It's funny how I play this game.
I know where the start is
as my mind races ahead to the end
before I've begun
and distracts me from paying attention
as to how or when I got there, the end that is.

NOT FAIR, DO OVER!
WHY NOT?
BUT YOU CHEATED TO WIN...FUCK YOU!
I QUIT, I'M GOING HOME!

Anyway, back to the beginning....
You know, that place you go
when it's agreed that the game is over
but neither of you want to stop playing,
yet.

Which reminds me, as I was saying earlier,
there's a lot you don't know about me.... yet,
though you seem interested in the discovery
of it all
as do I.

And always remember:
You need both sides of the headpiece so you know how high to make the staff, otherwise you'll be digging in the wrong place for the treasure, and don't mind the snakes, sorry 'bout that. Also be on the look out for that other guy who likes to go to great lengths to steal what you have worked so hard for (damn Nazi!!).
...Oh, I almost forgot, dates can be poisonous so test them with the monkey first.

So much dirt to remove.
It's a dirty job and few are willing to do it.

Afterwards, don't drop the soap in the shower....
....oops!....
....and while you're back there,
can you wash between my shoulder blades?
The more I touch myself, alone,
the more places I find I cannot reach, alone.

By the way,
Do you know the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?
-Be Careful-
Think a moment before you answer,
the chasm is deep.
I should know,
I've been tossed down there before.

THE END

Did you get all of the references? The obvious ones are "M.P. Search For The Holy Grail" and "Raiders of the Lost Ark". Snakes being those little habits of ours that other people find annoying (or something like that) and the monkey being the way we behave on a first date due to our (sometimes) unrealistic fear of being "shot down" or mentally poisoned into believing we aren't good enough the way we are. The one everyone seems to miss is the "Adam's Family". Probably because just mentioning the "Bermuda Triangle" isn't enough for people to get what I was thinking about at the time. Uncle Fester had a falling out with his brother over the Amour twins where he ran off and got lost in the Bermuda Triangle, ending up forgetting who he was for 25 years.
Anyway, enough for today.

No New Messages

People used to ask me why I didn't have a cell phone. My theory is, if your answering machine at home always says zero messages and your email always says "no new messages" then why would I pay an extra $40 a month to remind myself everyday that nobody is trying to get a hold of me? I had a cell phone when I was a cab driver, but that was for work. No work, no cell. It's that simple. I've always been the kind of person that meets people easily. My mom always says that I don't know any strangers. I haven't had trouble making friends since grade school. My problem is moving. It seems that every 6 months or so, I have a new address and phone number. Every 3 or 4 years, I'm in a new town. It's never been on purpose. Everytime I've moved I've told myself that this would be the last time until I buy a place of my own. When your young though, roommates come and go. Sometimes you can afford to stay and sometimes not. Whatever. The thing with all this moving around is I am continually rotating through new friends. I have a couple of old friends I IM with if they are on line, but currently, no one I know lives within my toll free calling area. I've met afew people since I've moved here. I know afew names and afew know my name so it's just a matter of time. I'm not worried or lonely although I am most definitely alone. In this case of not working and not getting out of the house except to go to my P.O. box (where 99% of the time it is empty) I end up sleeping. Last I slept 21 hours. If I could I would live in my dreams.

"The Last Action Hero" staring Arnie, had a great idea. They blew it, but it was a great idea. "Pleasantville" did a much better playing off the idea. The idea, of course, of going inside a fictional piece (such as a movie or tv show) and becoming a part of it. I used to just lay in bed and dream of going into shows like Star Trek Next Generation or Northern Exposure. I think it works best if you pick something that is set pretty much in one place. I mean James Bond and Jason Bourne seem like they're all over the map so how could you follow along from inside the story? Would it be like Sonic and Tails or Final Fantasy? Where ever the main character goes, the other is programmed to pretty much stay attached and follow? That would seem weird in a movie.

One of my long time old friends knows I hate driving to the post office to check my PO box because it is empty so much. She started sending me post cards that simply say, "Not empty today!" and her name. When I do find friends, it's always great to find good ones. She came by to give me a house warming present a couple of weeks ago. I took her to Burney Falls. I hadn't been since I was like, 10. I forgot how incredible it is. Gallons and gallons of water droplets bravely hurling themselves off a hundred and something foot cliff into a pool below. Of course Burney Falls also has a bonus feature. Because it goes over volcanic rock, some of that rock is porous so the chicken water can just seep through the walls on either side of the main falls and trickle down to safety. The overall effect is to take the average human being and make it put its camera or cell down just to watch quietly. Burney Falls is definitely something to see if you come to Nor Cal. Moss Berry Falls by Dunsmuir is also neat. It's more subtle than Burney Falls but I think prettier. Of course Moss Berry Falls is harder to get to. You have to walk up the railroad tracks some half mile. My friends and I would always sing "Stand By Me" sound track songs and the time goes quickly enough. Thankfully no dead bodies so far.

If I ever wrote a biography of my life, I think that would be a great title "No Dead Bodies So Far."

Randomness

Dictionary.com's definition of Randomness:
1. An inexplicable misfeature; gratuitous inelegance.

I'm not sure where I want to go in this blog today. Ever since the first posting, each day (all three now) I've tried to think of a theme to stick to and follow. I mean, there's a title section and everything. Today, I got nuthen. I was wondering, for instance, if I start off with a cab story or a Blockbuster Video story, if someone new could follow? Since the posts show up in reverse order, the new person, or any person, would be reading it backwards. Like a book. If you've been reading all along, then it makes sense to leave the book mark where you left off, but if someone else were to then pick up the book, why would they start reading from your book marked page? I guess in the long run, none of this is important. No one but me is reading anyway.

I've been trying to post a picture. I can't figure out how yet, but I am working on it. I have 3 pictures on Flickr. I tried to find them to give directions to someone else. The picture Tagged "tr eyes" seemed reasonable enough. It's a picture I took of my own face. The search came back with like, 4,000 finds. I didn't find mine.

Joke: Did you know that in California, they don't have any beaches, mountains, lakes or trees?
No, in California they have, you know, like beaches and like mountains n' stuff.
It's a simile joke nobody ever seems to get. While I'm on the subject of jokes, here's my two favorite "kiddy" jokes.
Q: Why does a seagull fly by the sea?
A: Because if he flew by the bay he'd be a bagel!

Knock Knock
Who's there?
Interrupting Cow
Interrupting (Mooooooo) ........?

I apologize if I have offended any seagulls or cows with my callous sense of humor. However, screw the Californians if they can't take a joke!

Famous People I've met or seen up close. I already wrote about Steve O, Woody and Ringo Star. I danced with Wil Wheaton once sort of. Jason Mews put on my arm band at Vulgarthon and quote, " fucked it up". At said Vulgarthon, Ben Affleck walked right past me (I would too if the option was available). I had a beer in a bar with Les Claypool when I was 17. It all seem so strange to me, stars. Like that story in "I Heart Huckabees" about the tuna fish sandwich. The more you tell it, the more absurd it seems. Why would or anyone should care if you met someone? Even more absurd if you saw them, and yet.....I honestly felt like a 6th grade girl who just saw the coolest or cutest guy in school looking my way. Even if he was just trying to read the black board behind me. As ridiculous as it seemed, I could completely understand why all those girls in the Beatles documentaries are screaming their heads off and fainting to the floor. It was everything in me not to do the same. I have a friend with skin cancer. It's actually not a good situation as it has recurred now three times after going into remission twice. She got to spend a day with Matt Damon. She spent a day on the set, got to be an extra in "Stuck on You" and go down the red carpet with him at a movie premier. Afterwards she said she was so lucky. That dreams really do come true. I couldn't help wondering if being diagnosed with cancer three times before you're twenty two is really a dream most people aspire to have. Yet, most people she talked to couldn't get enough of it. "Tell me everything. Show me the pictures, can I have a copy? What's he like?" Off she'd go like the tuna fish story, over and over. Maybe it's the fact that movie stars have become like superheros. They have no worry for money, a secret identity, and in their small way, they help people like my friend with cancer. Could the world accept Bruce Wayne as Batman? Or Clark Kent as Superman? Or would their personal lives be forever messed up somehow because of the knowing? With people, knowledge can screw things up quite a bit. Just look at the whole apple fiasco in the bible. I didn't do it, nobody saw me do it, you can't prove anything. Speaking of proof.....

Sometime around elections (2004), I was buying cigarettes at the local 7/11. Out of nowhere, the clerk informs me that Michael Moore is a liar. Maybe he'd just had a conversation with someone else and he wanted to continue the conversation with me. Maybe because So Cal OC is mostly republican and I was wearing clothing that clearly stated "I'm not from around here" and therefore looked like a Moore supporter whom he could argue with and convert to the dark side. Either way, I am a Moore supporter and I was more than willing to take the bait. What else are you going to do at 3am on a Wednesday? Truth be told, the general apathy and mis-information about important things combined with the overwhelming controversy and publicity over which star is dating each other or breaking up, has me very worried about the state of this nation. We seem to freak out on anyone who says 9/11 is our own fault (which I think is at least partly true) and tune in to morning shows to see what Michael Jackson is wearing in court today. What is wrong with this picture? Al Franken went before congress to complain about the U.S. service men getting to hear the Rush Limbaugh show but not Air America. Franken read several instances where Rush flat out lies to his radio listeners about various things in politics and political figures. Congress was actually laughing out loud at the ridiculousness of some of Rush's comments (I'm sure Franken's delivery and utter contempt for Rush aided in the atmosphere of the room). Franken then requested that if they were going to insist on airing lies to the troops, at least balance it out with a show that airs the truth like Franken's show on Air America. While congress did seem to think Franken was correct, he was also denied. Land of the free, home of the brave, BULLSHIT!!!! I want to put up the corporate flag of United States but I don't want a rock through my window. While I do think the direction of this "great" nation is heading for the crapper A) I don't think it is already in the crapper (like a lot of other nations) and B) I think we could pull it out of its nose dive. Democracy works on the principle of educated voters. We live in an information age. Just remember to take your grain of salt before listening to the extreme left or right. Always make up your own mind about things but be willing to listen and be open to changing the mind you've made. Most people only use 3% of their brain anyway.

Have you ever had the experience of falling in love. Your friends/family say that the person you've fallen in love with is a real catch and you're luck to have found them. Then that person breaks up with you and everyone starts going off on what a loser that person was. I never understood this. Could your friends/family see something you couldn't but they were being optimistic that it would all work out or are they just trying to say negative stuff after to make you feel better? Why is it so hard for people to tell the truth these days. My brother insist on telling the truth always. He's in charge of my Grandma's estate. My dad wants him to "fudge" a little so our side of the family gets more money. Fudge, smudge, little white lies, it seems we all do it. The brain is very comfortable with justification and rationalization as to why this is ok this time. But Why? Sometimes I find myself fudging the truth for no real reason. I didn't know that person anyway, or whatever. A great line in "Knight's Tale" where they accuse Chaucer of being a liar and Chaucer replies "I am a writer, I give the truth scope". When I moved down to help take care of my grandma after her stroke, she said something very interesting (to me anyway). If you know anything about strokes, it scrambles the brain up a little bit even when it appears they've made a full recovery. Her's was a right brain stroke. Grandma could tell something she was doing or saying wasn't quite right but she could never put her finger on it. She'd get out of the car and say she'd just stepped off a train, stuff like that. Nobody would tell her because they knew what she meant and they didn't want to embarrass her. She told me, "If I ever do or say something odd, tell me. I know coming from you it will be the truth because you've never lied to me." She must have seen a look appear on my face because she added, "About anything important anyway." What does that mean? Why has our society developed categories for the importance of a lie? Isn't a lie a lie in the end? What do Catholics do about this in confession? Do they list all lies or just important ones?

I have no idea where this started and where it ends only that I am through typing for tonight.

My Boring Ass Life

I tried to google "My Boring Ass Life" today to see if a link to this site would be brought up since I mentioned it and the amazing Kevin Smith in my last entry (emphasis on last try, the en should really be silent). It didn't work. I am now convinced that due to the overwhelming amount of bloggs out there, this will never be found and if not found, not read. This gives me lots of freedom to write but nothing of interest to write about. Sorry if you stumbled onto this page after all, because it is officially all down hill from here. And after only one (now two) entries, amazing.
First of all, I recently moved up here from So Cal OC. I grew up in Redding (Nor Cal) and always thought it would be nice to live in the mountains. Even though I dislike So Cal tremendously, it is currently 40 something degrees outside my house and 57 degrees inside my house. I wouldn't mind the warmth So Cal has to offer right now. I haven't figured out where to get heating oil yet because I've never had to do that before. I thought, hey, it's spring now, what do I need a heater for? Tonight's numb fingers and toes have convinced me to look through all 20 yellow pages and figure something out.
If anyone were ever to read this, they might wonder why I would move to Southern California's beautiful Orange County in the first place if I dislike it so much? My grandma lived in So Cal and had a stroke. Since we all live in Nor Cal and beyond, I decided to move down there to help take care of her. It all seems pretty noble, and I guess if you subtract all of my personal selfish reasons, then I suppose it was pretty noble. Basically, I'd moved in with my boyfriend of the time in Ferndale, CA. If you don't know Ferndale but it still sounds familiar, it's where they filmed "Out Break" (the monkey movie) and "The Majestic" (Jim Carrey's flop that I liked because I watched in wonder as they built the Majestic Theater over Ferndale's only parking lot) as well as parts of "Stand By Me" (River Phoenix was a dream boat, although his brother, Joaquin isn't someone I would kick out of bed for eating crackers either). Skywalker Ranch is about 3 or so hours south and Fern Canyon (where they filmed the Jurassic Park opening) is about an hour north outside Orick. But everyone knows it best because it is in Humboldt County. When I worked as a cab driver in Newport Beach (CA) even people from Australia and Ireland knew, some how, that Humboldt has the finest weed on the planet. I wouldn't know, I don't smoke anything but tobacco (Camel Lights). But I digress.... My Ferndale boyfriend and I broke up just after that famous day in September but we were still living together as "friends" (translation: neither of us had anywhere else to go and neither of us could afford to live on our own). So when my grandma had her stroke in October of that year, I volunteered to move down to Orange County to "help out", knowing full well the family would help pay for my relocation. Which they did. I took her to her appointments, the grocery store, hair dresser, everywhere. I couldn't live with her because she still insisted on her independence. But the family felt good that someone related and reliable was there to look out for grandma and helped me pay for stuff in return. Never mind the fact that I loved her to pieces and thought she was the greatest asset our family ever had. I figure it all worked out. Grandma died with me at her bed side. The first and only time I've ever watched someone die, which was weird but still glad I was there. She just stopped breathing and I knew she was no longer in the room even though she was staring right at me. Now she's free of her stroke disabilities and I'm free of Southern California. I will not miss the freeways, the evening news or the overwhelming amount of people, everywhere. Right now though, I miss the warmth and the endless sound of the ocean. I learned something interesting (to me at least), wind in palm trees sounds like rain where as wind through pine trees sounds like a creek or rushing water and finally, wind through oak trees sounds more like a water fall or class three rapids.
I remember when I talked to my mom on the phone about me becoming a cab driver. My mom graduated from college in 1957. She worked for four years a secretary (a job a friend of the family got her) before becoming a house wife and eventually a stay-at-home-mother. No disrespect to the life she chose, but she doesn't have a very real picture of the current world market on jobs for women. She said the funniest thing I've ever heard her say. Paraphrasing a bit she said that I have had so many different kinds of jobs, it would be fun if I wrote them all down sometime. I said something to the effect of "what, like a list with names and dates and stuff?"
"Yes, wouldn't that be interesting". My reply was that I had done just such a thing, it's called a resume. She called me a smart ass and ended the conversation. Truth be told, I used to keep track of all that but through different cities and moves, I lost track. Now I basically make it all up. Not the jobs themselves or how much I got paid, just when I worked them. Just to see if anyone's still reading and they think it is interesting too, I'll show you a list of all the places I've worked and/or Companies I worked for. I'll save you and me the made up part of dates though.

Before I get to the paying gigs, I did a little voluneer work. YMCA camp counselor. Docent at Carter House Natural Science Museum (now Turtle Bay Museum next to a very expensive multi million dollar sundial). Whiskytown Environmental Camp counselor. RSI teen youth advisor. RCRS bookstore clerk. And stuff I don't usually count for the SCA Barony of Allyshia.

Der Wienerschnitzel- comments include the fact that I had to wear a shirt that said "I cop a wienerdude attitude!" and we had a rat that we never caught living in the back who like hot dog buns. His name was Mike. We figured Mickey was too obvious to customers.

Straw Hat Pizza- comments include my dad paying me to quit because they wouldn't give me Christmas off and he didn't like me going up to stranger's houses. I took the offer.

8th grade tutor-even though I got a couple D's myself in 8th grade. This kid passed because I found out he was failing on purpose. His cousins told him that skinny small kids like him got shot in High School and he was afraid to go. I showed him my year book, told him some fun stories and helped him catch up in school. Personally I hated most high school, but I didn't tell him that.

Snack Bar Queen @ Shasta cavern's on Lake Shasta- I got fired because I found out they were stealing money from the guy who actually owns it and lives back east. The managers over charge for tickets, keeping the difference as well as other schemes. That's not their story of course. It was only a summer gig anyway and it sucked. The view was spectacular though.

Nanny in Ventura, CA- despite my best efforts, the kid grew up to be a great man. I got fired when he told his mom that he wished I was his mom instead. Mom wised up and decided she needed to spend more time with him instead of having a nanny. Good move. He still listens to the Violent Femms (which I introduced to him) and last I heard was trying to get into LA film school.

Wharehouse- a music and video store. Some genius had the idea of the slogan "where? the wharehouse". This job was back in Redding after the nanny gig didn't work out.

I ended up getting picked out of like, 10,000 applicants, to go to Moorpark jr College's Exotic Animal Training and Management program. It is a two year degree, I lasted one. But I couldn't go back to Redding a second time so..

Security Guard for Courtesy Security (which went out of business, can't think why?)- I guarded the car lots in Simi Valley. One night I found myself holding the car keys to a pimped out, one of a kind $80,000+ Toyota Celica or something like that. I sat there for several minutes alone in the dark thinking $80,000 or $10 an hour?

Wharehouse-this time in Chico, CA. Wooooh Paarrrttty!!! Chico was at the beginning of a line of College towns I would move to even though I didn't ever attend a University. Wharehouse got hit pretty hard with two big whammies at once. The Northridge Earthquake destroyed a bunch of their stores at a total loss and a cargo airplane, full of their crap, went down. I think they too are out of business.

Vector aka CutCo Knives-worst job ever, best product ever.

BlockBuster Video aka Ballbuster Video or sometimes Lackluster because they edit movies for content without telling their customers - Best no-paying job I ever had. I loved every minute. Sit around all day playing "stupid customer" (you know that movie that has that guy in it? or where are your new releases? and my favorite, what's a good movie? Answer being, of course, a movie that you liked unless you liked Anaconda or some crap like that, then you're another stupid customer we would make fun of later). Also it was the only place I could acceptably play film critic and people would listen. It's amazing how quickly someone will put down a video if the clerk says "it doesn't suck" (my favorite answer for movies like Perl Harbor and Independence Day. From me it was high praise for something I didn't care for but people seemed to like). Plus I could geek out on films and film details in a time before DVD where the Director now points stuff out. Did you ever notice the camera crew in "Chasing Amy" reflecting in the store window? I did.

Newspaper delivery- Times Standard I think. Chico's local paper. I did this at the same time as Ballbusters because I wasn't making enough money to pay rent AND buy food even though I worked there full time.

American Star Security- I moved to Eureka, CA (Humboldt). I had all kinds of post here. My first was the dump from sunset to sun rise on week days and all day on weekends. It had been closed down. It was one of the only post I ever had where I was allowed to fall asleep in my truck if I wanted. I found it more interesting to put out a bag of cat food each night an watch the animals come visit. That was until I had a Black Bear on the hood of my truck who was quite upset that I didn't have anymore food. Lesson Children is Don't Feed The Bears! This is also the job where I met ex-Beatle Ringo Star and his lovely wife. Not at the dump though, this was at the local concert hall/roller skating rink. You know you should give up the drums when you're playing in Eureka, unless you came for the weed? I still can't believe I was on a team guarding him.

Snack Bar Queen- this time for the Eureka Zoo. I met and became friends with one of the keepers who actually graduated from Moorpark jr College's E.A.T.M. program. She let me help her with the animals sometimes and we swapped war stories. This time I got to feed bears behind bars, which is much safer. Alas, another summer job though.

Newspaper delivery- Enterprise Record, I think. I could have the two paper names switched.

KOA Kamp Ground- Klever ain't it? I did get to see Woody Harrelson there. Now there was a star lookin' for weed.

UPS- Christmas gig tossing boxes. If you ever wanted to play a 3D Tetris game on crack, work for UPS. The plus side includes great pay, union benefits and you never have to go to a gym. The negative side it that you need that great pay and benefits for when you can't work any more due to muscle ache and back strain.

STT Security- (which stands for Stop That Thief Security) Bayshore Mall Security if you can believe it. I saw "Mall Rats" and took the job anyway. It paid well for the area, and I liked the Bayshore "Rats" anyway. Most of them were retired who'd come down to get out of the house and walk. They'd sit/walk around with their styrofoam Burger King cups all day so they could get free refills. I guess the teenagers were all at home smokin' weed or something.

Ocean View/Sunset Memorial Park-cemetery and funeral preneed sales. In today's world, it's a great idea. Most people pay for big expenses a little at a time anyway, which you can't do once someone has died, so why not? I didn't convince enough people of that idea though.

9/11 happened so I went back to security-Pinkerton- the term "Private Eye" comes from their slogan way back when the company started. I worked airport security at the massive complex of the Eureka/Arcada Airport (they have 2 gates. One arriving and one departing), which is located in Mckinlyville. After the government decided not to trust private security with the task of airport security, Pinkerton moved me to the lumber mills. Mill C had been shut down and was abandoned so I had a lot of time to myself. It's the only place I ever worked that actually looked like a Horror Movie set. The only thing I had to really keep an eye out for though was the Mt. Lion (cougar, panther, puma, depending on what part of the country you're from) that liked to hunt the deer, sheep and goats in the farm land surrounding the mill. She was beautiful to watch but I would have felt safer if I didn't have to walk a round after watching her go by.

Pinkerton- yes again. I moved to So Cal and transferred with them. After the 9/11 stuff had cooled off though, they laid me off.

U.S. Security Associates Inc.- I went from security guard to post commander to administrative assistant. I hated most of this job because a lot of people wouldn't show up so I worked a lot of double and triple shifts and it interfered with helping my grandma.

A Taxi- Cab driver. Female cab driver. The owner of the place is actually named Hussein. First name though, not last. I'd hang outside the Newport Beach bars at night. Women would hop in my cab, do a double take and say either "hey, you're a woman!" or "Thank God you're a woman!" if it was the second one I would usually respond with "Every morning I wake up and say the same thing!" Forget the taxi cab confessions (which a lot of people would bring up), this job gave me stories I could tell for the rest of my life. You know that guy from "Jackass" on MTV? When he's drunk, he really is a jackass and not in a crazy stupid stunt kinda way but in a hey baby, wanna party kinda way. Towards the end of the summer, I'd met so many people from Ireland, I asked a new arrival if there was anyone still left back at home on the island. I only had two guys try to show me their "bits and pieces" thank god. At least now I know where the term comes from. It was sort of sad having a drunk man as a fare. He struck out at the bars and now he has a woman taking him home that won't give him the time of day. Bummer. My biggest tip was from a woman who had called for a cab. She and her husband were fighting in an empty parking lot when I pulled up and I was pretty sure he was going to hit her. I honked the horn and pulled up fast giving him the impression that I was going to hit him causing him to jump back even though I stopped 10 feet away. I held up my cell and told him to leave before I called the cops, which if you know Newport Beach Cops, this is a very real threat. When I finally got her into the cab and calmed her down enough to find out where I was taking her, an hour had passed, which in cab terms is a lot of money and I didn't have the meter running. Long story short.... I took her to her million plus home with the ocean view, an $11 fare, she paid it with her husband's credit card. $1,000. Ah, the life of the rich and richer of OC. No wonder that county has it's own TV show.

Currently unemployed. My mom, god bless her, says I'm trying to live like an heiress but I am actually trying to find work. On what's in the bank, I have about the rest of this year before I'm destitute. Thank God the real Nor Cal is still cheap. So if you know anyone hiring.........

First Entry

I've never written a blog before. This is my first. It seems odd but intriguing to write something of not much interest that people anywhere can read. When I initially decided to start blogging, I thought I might post some of my poetry. I used to write a lot of poetry, but the well seems like it has dried up. I read somewhere that if everyone who wrote poetry liked other people's poems as much as their own, the poetry industry would be the largest industry in the country. It seems I'm not in the minority when I read other people's poems and shrug then. I like Kerouac though. Cody Pomeray is amazing... "you know the hero wouldn't look like that in real unreality". What a line! Growing up on Shel Silverstein is what got me started. Reading his works in the third and fourth grade, I thought, that can't be hard, and started writing.

a poem can be about anything

it usually tells what you're feeling

it gives you a chance to open up

without anyone to interrupt

except, sometimes you do run into problems

like, um, what the hell rhymes with problems?

In high school, my friends used to say I should write for playboy, but I never tried. It seemed too weird somehow.

Love Or Sex?

to men

love oozes from a gland

and lubricates

the narrow hallway

towards the guarded door

behind which two souls

bump into each other

and fumble around

in embracing darkness

for the elusive light switch

to turn on

Did I forget to mention I'm a woman? I am. Anyway, another favorite of some I wrote after this guy dumped me. I was trying to figure out why I couldn't just move on and get him out of my head. This was the result.

I still hear the pulse of you

I still feel the moist of you

I still taste the salt of you

I still smell the sex of you

I still see the form of you

I still move the rhythm of you

inside me

Then in college, it turned into something a little more depressing.

Another Friday Night

empty chamber

apartment door

I sit in silence

my own captor

the train goes by

Hello, Goodbye

the crickets sing

the highway hums

I wait around

but no one comes

Or uplifting depending on how much sleep deprecation I had gone through.

it's quiet here inside my mind

myself is all I seem to find

nobody's here inside with me

without their pressures, I simply be

I like this place, it's very clear

it's a treasure I hold very dear

I wish you could visit

I wish you could see

I wish I could share

this place within me

But this is my center

this is where I stand

let me stay here awhile

then I'll take your hand

I don't know if any of it is really any good. I like it even if 90% of it is rhyming couplets which seems to drive most people crazy. I've been published at least twice. Both of which were not my best effort, neither of which I have written here.

I'm surprised that I started off with poetry. Movies are what really brought me here. I was reading Kevin Smith's "My Boring Ass Life" blog. A link lead me to a link which had me ending up here. I'm a big movie fan. Other people's imagination and/or creativity fascinates me. I see stuff like Ben's monologue in Chasing Amy, you know, the one in the suv. I think to myself, where is that guy? Not Ben Affleck, I'm sure I could buy a star map or something and find him, I'm talking about the guy who has the looks, heart and verbal skills to pull off a monologue like that. One that breaks your heart into a million shards and turns a gay girl straight (or bi as the case may be). Not that I'm gay or bi or think that Chasing Amy isn't just a great display of fiction. But man, guys like Holden are few and far between. Perhaps that's why I live alone with my cat, Princess Belle. I guess this is enough of a start. I will be interesting to see if anyone actually reads this. Now I know why the Director's commentary on DVD's usually make some comment on how whatever goof they just said probably won't matter as nobody is probably listening. I am though.