on and on

i remembered where penelope is... although it doesn't excuse her absence per se... but she is a bit busy painting and moving in to the new house and being pregnant and having a fulltime job- something very similar to having a life. i don't know if amidst that I would pull out the laptop and blog but i might. no mercy. that's what i say. and since she's far away i can't harass her in person.

so the job is off to a slow lumbering start. very typical of my existence of late, easing into working one excrutiating hour after the next. yesterday i was in a funk. i felt like i was being spiritually flayed by demons.

damn that's a nice sentence. i'm just going to let that one stand by itself. needless to say after some ice-cream o'self-loathing i plucked up, dyed my hair and waited to pick up my director from the airport. i had to rush the dye job. so the roots are on the dye side of orange and not "blonde" but WHATEVER. it's not his fault. it's poor planning on my part. but then he had to wait for his bags so i ended up waiting a block away on a dark street reading my bible- bcs it was in reality, the only book i had in the car. as i was reading mark 9 and contemplating my ethereal injuries i decided, to kill time i could clean the car. a bag of trash later and realizing i needed a mini-vac to finish the rest the director called and i was glad he was at burbank and not LAX, although they've got that new cell-phone waiting lot.

two things we commiserated about were: being latch key kids and loving arrested development, which i'm watching a tape of and laughing out loud. the most hopeful thing he said was, if i'm going to stay this busy you'll have a job. good times, i say. good times. but more amusing to you, my loyal if not occassional wry and dismissive readership- on the way to his house, he says, "you're freaking me out." i say, "aw man i'm sorry i'll tone it down." yes, yes, my driving was "freaking" him out... he said it was mainly because he was really tired and his eyes were blurring so everything seemed to be accelerating at too alarming a speed. he says, just act like you have a friend that's tripped out in the passanger seat... amused now at the fact that he thinks i might have a tripped out friend who would ever have cause to be in my passanger seat while high- i tried to slow down and think of all the funny scenarios of he himself being tripped out and needing to be rescued from some errant diversion into la la land.