impossible things

dear non-broken ever-persevering blog, 

I find it impossible that your kitty from the far-off lands so suddenly met a terrible end. After all that - ? Just to - ?  I have no words. 

How are YOU. 

It's impossible to me, on a much more superficial note, that pomegranates exist. These treasure troves of addictive shimmery kernels. We ate them this weekend. They were 58 cents each. 

And my impossible, improbable job. How did I even end up teaching littles, and really caring about it? So much that when my assistant was recently taken away and my classroom that I worked so hard to create was half taken away, I melted down into a frantic puddle. Tears are vexingly effective and I now have some semblance of help (unpaid assistants, bless them), at least through the month's end, so for the moment it's not quite as bad? as originally perceived. But still so many problems with combining ages 2 and 3. One wants to eat buttons and the other really does not want to share. No one wants to hear stories anymore. They run laps and bang the plastic hammers as loud as they possibly can. There is a holiday program to learn and take-home gift-type projects to create, but we are operating with our bare-bones, hoping to keep this ship afloat until it evolves into another type of vessel (full-day operation, details TBD) - 

I want to teach them things, but at the moment, if they can just stay alive. 

And then through all of this, here is me, impossibly as the girl with the tick on her back. Or in my brain. An impossible tick ate my brain. Day 40 of antibiotics approaches with no change. No expulsion or extinction or thorough exorcism as hoped. An acceptance of the new Way Things Are and have been for months - flu-like mornings, lack of short-term memory, weak right arm like I touched a Horcrux or something. All-over arthritis. Not to mention the random twitches and zaps and pains and tingles, whatever the tick at its post commands. Floating through the day as though everything's fine and it mostly is until I pause and then - 

so 

weighed 

down 

by the spirochetes or whatever they are swirling around inside my blood and my muscles and mind. 

Life is a string of impossible things, one after the other, and yet we remain surprised. I wonder why.

much love to you,
penelotick

so i did something weird with my gmail

Let me preface this by saying - I archive almost all of my nonjunk email, like letters and pictures from family, friends, even the little bits and pieces of conversation, just because and just in case. But as far as the actual inbox is concerned, ideally it is kept neat and clean. Then when the little smartphone arrived on the scene last year, and as the computer because more and more decrepit (I'm cursing it for its incompetence as we speak), I fell behind in my archiving. Like, way behind, to the point of I Give Up behind. There were over 1,000 non-archived emails weighing down my inbox and my shoulders when finally, the other day, I found a solution via google to bulk archive through a simple filter. At first it didn't work, but then I switched something and it did work! In a matter of seconds, poof! Emails archived, chaotic unarchived weight from shoulders lifted.

But then, today it occurred to me - why it took 2 or 3 days to dawn on me, I do not know - that no longer were any new emails coming through. No "I'm back in the country, how are you?" emails from mom, no prodding,"hey, what are you doing, tell me MORE!" messages from mendacious. No articles from my coworker I said I'd edit and she said she'd send? Hmm. Except, oops, they were there, just not in my inbox. Automatically archived. So, wtf? I don't even know how to fix that, and do admit to feeling slightly panicked all over again at undealt-with email.

Ugh, my brain! Isn't there a way to archive my peskier thoughts. (Without fubar-ing that, too.)

So teaching is really quite lovely, so far. Still so much to incorporate and learn, to-do lists everywhere, but also the feeling that - we're off to a good start, and introducing new things in as the year goes on is the right way to do it, anyway, for us all. Thursday, I had a thought that perhaps 2 out of the 3 were already a little too comfortable with us, the teaching team, because all of a sudden they were block-crushing little monsters who would not be stopped. But it was also Thursday, i.e. our Friday. And then there's the problem of the afterschool crew, whom I stayed with Thursday, but not Wednesday, after my coworker and I convo'd and decided having 2 people stay for 1-2 children was not only pointless, but also possibly illegal, pay-wise. I had 3 kids on Thurs, which brought me up over minimum wage (holla), and also, I earned every penny with the wild monkeys under my care. Sheesh.

Outside school, I daily fend off a connected series of muscle aches and panicky-type waves, so I can only assume by now all of the monster is stress-borne. My upper spine is like a barometer for mental duress.

But then, I ponder the force field of calm I carry with me in situations where others are calling for it. Like the children in my care, or the parents dropping them off, or the old dog in pain, or the child upset about xyz at school today. Not always, but often, I can carry this shield for others, but not myself, like some kind of gift (but also a curse, since I am apparently unable to partake in it).

Well so, J.Lo's off to a tiny northern state this week for a conference, so I'll be here, holding down the fort. Watching normally booed and hissed shows on the large TV instead of the tiny tablet or phone, making pasta di fagioli and eating the leftovers everysinglenight if I want to. Facing down Full Week 2 of school, managing the puppies and the children. And generally trying not to lose my shit! (Exclamation point absolutely required.)

love to you xo,
your penelaotang

holla holla hey

Good morning from the east coast,
I have been burrowed into the world of newjob and settinguptheclassroom for days now (weeks?), but I feel like emergence is coming soon. More or less. There are still things, still lists, but not quite so harrowing in their must-get-it-done-immediately!ness. I'll have to develop a repertoire of kitten-herding skills, for instance, that can only be honed through practice, trial and error. I must compile a stack of music-to-play that mostly veers away from kids-singing-kids-music because that seems a quick road to mental snapping. Oh, and lesson plans. Must corral the bits and pieces of I-think-I-want-do-this and I-vaguely-envision-that and tighten it all up.

But it'll happen.

I had a thought about stories the other day that perhaps you'd enjoy. And probably this is a human thing, not just a penelope thing, but maybe it falls into the Venn diagram middle-space of personal and universal experience. I love stories. Have always loved them. But do I/we love stories to the point of fault? In terms of narrative thread, we almost set ourselves up, through that love of stories, to expect an endpoint to all our narrative threads. And I know, how obvious - life, while made up of our stories, is not a storybook or even a series of them. Our narrative threads are much messier, frayed, knotted and twisty-turny. Which is part of their beauty, but also, should we not be continually mindful, a good way to set ourselves up for that constant sense of disappointment and frustration when our stories fail to end and end neatly. For instance, say I'm working on patience, or cultivating a sense of joy. (Of course I would pick something abstract, but any goal-or-problem-type *thing* could be substituted in.) And I, through whatever means, land on some sort of mental secret or key to attaining said goal or solving said problem. And my mind tries to squeeze it all  into a story paradigm, wherein I had that moment of recognition or realization or epiphany, and from that day forward, that particular goal was achieved or problem was solved. I guess that would be the old living happily ever after trap, even if one doesn't actually expect it to be so pretty or pat or whatever. It could be more disheveled, this journey and conclusion, but I think our minds still want to squeeze into a storyline wherein we no longer have to worry about this particular thing.

Except that never happens.

I have to cut myself off - ohmygosh, ironically? - and return to blogland later. Today is Open House part two, for the littlest classroom (not mine, but my presence is still required) and then some errand running that most unfortunately includes procuring 5 tons of mulch. And then, I hope, some canned salsa making. And oh, preparing for the first day of school tomorrow.

Love to YOU who must write me back now,
pen

hi from a late-hour

Here my brain is, rattling around. Wondering among too many other things where podcasts have been all my life. Answer: I never had patience for them, never really "got" them, could not wrap my brain around the auditory factor of them, but now all of a sudden. Introduce me to PopCultureHappyHour and I'm hooked in for life. So novel, the idea of ingesting brainfood into one's ears rather than solely one's eyes while reading, or eyes and ears both while watching a show. Imagine. I mean, people have only been listening to talk radio for decades now, but whatever... #latetotheparty

Also, my vehicle (whose official name is the Lo.Co.Motive, in case that's been not-yet-mentioned) is often empty of late, leaving me with full control of the iPod and more mental space to ponder the different things I pick up on every single day along the same route. Not new things, but new-to-me things. Like that old rail car next to a church, right next to their playground, maybe it's a playhouse, too? Neat. And the other church whose signs are definitely posted by someone different lately. Someone dumber. You know your signs are dumb and lacking inspiration when the Seventh-Day Adventist signs are connecting more with the crowd. Really. And spider webs spanning power lines, tons of them catching morning light. And let's not forget Nurse Carla Espinoza, still hanging out on the truck outside the scrubs-shop - What up, Nurse Carla! I say in my head. Every time.

And after a mere 1-2 weeks of school, we all have some dumb cold that's going around, already. Already! Unfair.

So today I'm simply drained, more so than the new-normal drained. I spent four hours today dragging some things back into my classroom and attempting not to spaz out at the sheer excess - there is just too. much. crap. There are things we have to have and things we can rotate out and things I've brought in, but for the most part - omg, begone with the ratty plastic ponies and the creepers oversized stuffed carnival prize. I literally dragged in the biggest box I had and assigned it the job of holding Things That Are Currently Making Me Hostile. Some might be allowed out of the box again, now or maybe later, or in the case of those ponies maybe never. It was the only way I could deal with the rest of the room. And tomorrow is going to make me feel simultaneously more and less crazy, because I will have some help arranging, cleaning, etc. So while my mind craves sorting through it all and mentally cataloging where everything needs to live in a solitary manner, I have to accept this help. Because it will never get done otherwise. And then the whole teamwork thing. Bah! I get it, I embrace it, but then. At a root level, I reject it entirely. And it's a mindful conversation that must continually take place, talking my misanthropic nature back from the ledge.

Finally I delved into Call the Midwife and um yes it's fabulous.

I'm sure I ought to write more but for now my aforementioned rattling brain calls for tylenol and a long sleep.
love to you across the land
oh and! I heard some commercial this morning saying that RDU offers nonstops to LAX now, 7 days a week. must investigate. because that's kind of a big deal, no? although probably costs a million dollars.

somethings

as they come to me, so no particular order ~

Bender is old. Bender has lumps. Bender has what I'm nearly certain is skin cancer on her belly. I google-imaged to be sure, but quickly wanted to barf (don't ever, ever google-image that term, I mean it). And it breaks my heart, but brings me immediately back to the first point and the way all old dogs break all our hearts.

Every day the old Bender and the Sophie puppy chase tennis balls and run together and I adore the way their soft-black-ears flop in tandem.

It's a day early, but I've surreptitiously acquired The New Album from The Contentious Band (the one connected with that a-mazing continent quote I sent you last week), and so my brief-ish road trip down the what lately is becoming a very-well-traveled road will be a better one. Although I do wish it were a better destination this time than lying in a brain-scanning claustrophobic tunnel for 12 minutes, but maybe that will lead to some answers about my scattered-ness, or not.

I've never loved summer, as the blog-audience surely well knows, and again it occurred to me that it's another thing rooted in control. I can't control being too effing hot, to the point of stifle. I can't control the outcome of the garden, whether it will be high-yield or lagging, whether the tomatoes will like the way we tied and staked them (this year, not so much - #pinterestfail). And I especially can't control the insane weed-growth taking over the flower beds. I mean I could, if I had enough funds and/or stamina to haul in 2 tons of mulch redo the whole thing. Which will in fact happen at some point I imagine, but not anytime soon? And so that continues to vex me as I throw the ball and adore the floppy ears. Adore-seethe, adore-seethe, is how it goes.

The preschool room will be painted Pineapple Delight, which isn't nearly as manic as it sounds, and even though it was my third choice color (the other two were blues and greens and so much calmer...), at least it was a choice of mine? I mean, let it go Penelope. How many people get to all but dictate the entire look of their classrooms from the start? My lovely third choice is better than like, Schoolbus Spectacular, or some other imagined horror.

We finished Orange is the New Black (SO. good. brills.) and also through some luck reinstated direcTV - something about, well, football is starting, and we have a credit, and oh now there's another ginormous credit through the referral program. Like we won't even have to pay for it all for 2 more months? I waffle on the "need" for any extra forms of entertainment - it's not a need at all, what am I saying - but as far as luxuries go. We by no means have the Cadillac package, more like the Ford Focus. And now I can still watch Survivor.

Well anyway, my love - it's time to go. adieu adieu, til next time.
p.s. did we both order ravioli then? Because I seem to distinctly remember also having that. And, we were not given a very good table. By the wall, definitively out of the action, all but squirreled away. I expect the shoe baron to land us a better spot, to see and be seen, dammit! when the day comes.
xoxox

hashing it out

So I survived the morning sub gig? And I wouldn't say I want to slam the door and run away completely. I'm still processing, so let's talk about it. I'll probably be processing for awhile so it's good I had the chance now and have the time before deciding whether you know - is this what I want to do. Try for. Maybe? The parents overall seem higher maintenance than the children. And the children were all batty because there was a sub. And oh, they were 2-year-olds. I'm fairly sure this is not my preferred age group. And some were sweet but then I do feel like for 3 hours straight you are reprimanding at least one person at all times. And that can be a complete drain. And some of it was just plain overwhelming - like knowing who drops off who and who picks up who and the Personalities and keeping track of how this and that kid did over the course of the day and blah blah. And you forget at that age that you can basically manhandle them if they're not doing what they're supposed to do. Not coming out from the corner? I can so pick you up and carry you wherever I want. Which was the case at pretty much every turn. Crawling under the tables and rocking the chair back into the wall and dismantling the cozy corner, etc. And the new kid who cried - I think he bothered me the least however. Because I get where he's coming from. Anyway if I were there all the time and they were more "my" little students, I suppose it would all become second nature, the absorbing of all these personalities and their rhythms? Maybe. Or would I still at the end of the days feel like I was having to be just so *on* every second, all the time. I find that exhausting. And I totally did yearn for the world of by-myself-$2/hr-fuckit-so-be-it freelance writing work. Oh the tradeoff. Maybe I'll end up settling for a mix? Who knows. Process, process. Process some more. 

Anyway I was completely exhausted this afternoon. 

So back to my self-reminders - HOLY SHIT those designers this season on ProRun! I mean there are bad, mostly missing the mark runway shows and there's the thing that just happened with pretty much absolutely nothing looking even remotely good, at all. Embarrassing execution of sad designs. Nina Garcia in inconsolable yet mirthful tears. Heidi waving her finger and literally saying, Bad Designers. Like they were all puppies. But seriously Patricia and that time-suck of a horrible basket-weave shirt! And those ginormous shirts and shrunken ties and pants that were literally unvelcroing at the seams. While the model stood there, unmoving. Yipes. Just - so bad. I'm already ready for the next season, because who is even going to redeem themselves by the finale, I have few guesses and little hope. 

Birthday! I already filled you in some but that favorite selected moment - it had to have occurred outdoors, as the weather was so penelope-perfect I could barely stand it. Probably when we were all eating our unexpected cinnamon rolls from the cupcake bakery on the backporch. Watching puppy roam. Feeling the spring breeze. Adoring the cream-cheese frosting. Mmm. Yes, that. 

It's Thursday and oh look, I'm already completely behind on bible study for Monday. Whatever? I just can't keep up. Much less with Children's Council stuff, which I've completely blanked on since the last meeting. Too busy mind-spiraling and destroying my fingernails! That stuff takes time and dedication, you know. I did however tackle a giant pile of Things that have been vexing me with their presence for a month and a half now and now the pile is gone. So, small victories. And I think it's time to watch New Girl and then maybe some reading in bed - said bible study fare and then Hex Hall? Which I just purchased with a belated birthday gift card that was totally unexpected but delightful. The library does not have that book! But I do, now. 

love YOU. are you so excited to be going home soon? 

xoxox

penelaotang

Pen-

So this is what I wrote to the woman for the job i was up for. Not sure if i shared it with you- so i'll enclose it now. Having not found the words yet to reply back to her I do find they fail to meet my requirements for a job as i am not being communicated with, trusted, utilized, needed or purposeful... It bums me out. Let's be honest. I was going to complain about my dog not being better or worse and now slightly better than before? And the vet just giving him anti-dizzy meds but not anti-biotics. But you were on chat. So we chatted. It's different for us. Though different in a, we used to communicate via chat years ago and here we are again. As neither of us want to write tomes on feeling stuck in the same place. I mean we should- we will soon I'm sure. But for now. LMFAO and TTYL. ;)

How do you describe yourself?

I would describe myself in the following list: independent, creative, goal and task oriented, lover of lists, organized, pragmatic, highly verbal and communicative, tragically not mechanical or engineering minded, INTJ, good at discerning systems and concepts, craves order and boundaries, does well in crisis, reliable, loyal, calm and driven.

When people say what do you do? how do you answer that?

I say I’m an artist. If pressed I might expound on the various work I’ve done (from research, scenic artist to tour guide and stage manager), and of those, which have been significant to me- in my development as an artist, or personally what I’ve enjoyed putting my hand and mind too, or found challenging. Sometimes I may even wax philosophic on the fact that I come from a line of craftspeople and sheep herders (I love to see my place in an historical context.)

And when someone asks you what do you want to do in the future? What is that answer?

I tend to give myself a degree of latitude in this area, as my answer first addresses the fact that in the future I hope I am still actively learning, pursuing knowledge, and creatively developing, and challenging myself- so that I am not doing a disservice to myself or to the people that know me, in exploring and living in the world. I try to strike a balance between pursuit and avenues of change—being open to the possibilities of the unexpected, while walking in what I know. I don’t want to close doors, just because I can’t conceive of them!
The answer that relates to work, the dollar and cents issue of future, usually address the basic needs I find most sustaining in work environments- that usually being community, feeling needed and utilized, trusted, communicated with, and purposeful. Overall I know I need something that meets both my financial needs and matches my skill set, and an ability to gain experience for future employment would also be beneficial—as being grounded is just as important as being visionary. I most want to be responsible and helpful.

Penelope,

This week i'd been fighting off that, I don't have a job and have 5wks to make x amt of money, apprehension. (humming and bubbling right below the surface) Totally distracting and lame. Sometime around wednesday I also forgot to call into JuryDuty. So that as I was suppose to report on thursday and I failed to do so, and realized it only after i read staci's blog about how she was dutifully calling in to juryduty... Which means I now have to call on sunday, for monday... i don't know if that starts me to a whole new week? Or just the two days I lapsed on. I think that would be too optimistic. It sucks because i made it from friday last all the way till wed, then poof out of my head it went. Then yesterday beyond hope I got a 7wkgig@E! It is a lowly PA position most likely going nowhere in the middle of nofreewayland. But oddly not panic inducing. More like a great, lets go, sort of feeling. And now of course I may call to reschedule the jury thing till post gig. Besides that I did manage to get an etsyshopup after 4 years, but now what? Why has no one bought anything. Also shipping policies freak me out. (haven't done) But at least with the 7weekgig I can now pay my autoinsurance and afford the gas to go up to SB to collect more seaweed? And the $60 acu session i charged on tuesday... as that crick in my shoulder never abaited. Its sore but seems on the mend, but my heel of course, he said the muscle was twisting. Today i bought some sports tape. Tightness however is an artform i have not mastered, which induced a limping around hollywood and cutting of my circulation scene. And does that mean i should lay off the walking for a while? It seems to be one little thing after another. It has inspired me to wear my clogs, which aren't perfectly shaped like my holland clogs, but they'll do bean,they'll do. Maybe I could take a chisel and make them larger inside. Which is a benefit of wood shoes. Right now i'm eating a popsicle (or 2). Danica and i survived our prayerwalk through the city. But now no more outings unless we get up ridiculously early or stay out late. What to do. Summer plans laid to waste in an instant. We did find a cheap healthy food place and tried a judo something or other infusion taco truck off sunset, and stopped in for coffee at an independent place on vine. We also ran into a tour guide named vern we'd met from before. So if it be a last hurrah then it didn't go badly.

Besides that operation organize has tanked my energy. Normally I have an unflagging vigor in regards to such projects but this week its been pulling teeth. Where i stare at a box for an hour, come back later, move something, take another break, think about it all over again. It's agonizing. My trying not to look at the whole thing with a complete air of futility and yet still. But I must not be all or nothing. This will help in the end. This restructuring. Lately I've had a tiny bit of sympathy for mom in this ridiculously small house with no storage space. And dad having squeezed her out of the garage. Which must be bigger than our house proper. But why fight for space you don't want to live in. It's like my reluctance to live in the bathroom. Still haven't moved in by the way. (just now emptied a box in there while talking to cath) We don't necessarily need large spaces. My dream though is for an uncluttered one. And thank God for the space i do have. But must keep getting rid of things. Even if i won't part with variously silly things.

Also if i werent' selfabsorbed i'd make you a congrats for staying off FB for 5 hours postcard. But as it is i'm too wrapped up in my anxiety (farmtown playing) and worrying if all this summer food of grilled bbq chicken, corn and watermelon is going to catch up with me. (Probably not.) Oh and the bing cherries. My absolute favorite. And there was that earthquake and the strange overcast mornings in the middle of july. It's positively temperate. A curious summer. And that guy who puts flyers on peoples cars in their driveway. Is it wrong of me to want him chased of properties with a gun? As it is i almost hit him with my car as he seeming like he was about to pass out from the heat and effort staggered across my path with his stolen shopping cart. Which he was going to retrieve from my streetside parking space. He probably lamented that I had not arrived earlier, as he couldn't flyer my car.

I've got to get more to drink and advance onward to the laundry room. Which one day will house the vacuum cleaner, broom and have space for the ironing board. Should i ever own one. We do now but they're in ridiculous places and i wont talk about it. And tomorrow is the prayer people comin' on over. I have no ice. or bacon... but we'll cobble something together. I think.

m,out.

The Last Days, by M

the last days went by anti-climatically enough. and everything in these pictures literally no longer exists. returned to prop houses, cut up and put in dumpsters... and nothing too much exciting happened. the AD stormed off and quit bcs the DP told her to fuck off and she took 3 of her crew with her. but the next day like a vacuum everyone was replaced. and the production designer told me as he walked by me painting a vase, thats great, then later, no that's too grey... i mean i know its in black and white but still... lets paint it alabaster. ok.

the last night of shooting went long like the nights always did and i left before it was over thinking, ok, see you all at the wrap party and my final check better be in the mail!

over all i give the experience 4/5 stars. a definite win/win and now onto the jobhunt? or at the very least some lazy days in front of the tv.

shh… don’t be scared now

m.onthejob: add’l scenes

m, on the job

This week, Special Agent M reports to the set of a low-budget, black-and-white horror flick to work her set magic. Cue the scary organ music, along with the wicked laughter. And the thunder clap.

All Good Things, by M

Come to an end... Goodbye dear CGI's. My artistry of you is at an end. Apparently the company after feeling adrift in the sea of what we wanted, took flight and decided to become insulted by the obvious brilliance of my own cgi suggestions... alas. Alas. Goodbye. May storyboards come into my life on some other far flung day... work now returns to a dull place of research and fact checking. Did you know Pilot Whales, part of the dolphin family, can plummet to deep depths and sprint down down down in chase of delicious squid? It's true. They also can eat 30lbs a day, and have upwards of 48 teeth.... all 3 tons and 20ft of them.

Oh Man, M

I almost had to put myself on the blog more list. But this is what happens with me and "transitions" and I have a lot of them. So it's totally expected. I get so locked into trying to find a new routine and be comfortable in it I start eating more fries and none of my thoughts make it to the surface. I haven't even been making lists, except on the weekends. It's only the 4th week of my strange job and just this week they're starting to give me more research specific tasks so that's nice. I love reading Clarissa (200/1500) by the fountain goddess Emmy. I eat too many Mc'd breakfasts, I workout 4x a week and read while I elliptical. I hurt my shoulder and the dull ache is just the funnest it can be. I try to wander the garden before I leave for work... well anyway blah blah you get the point. It's nice to be tightly controlling the days and all the rest, but there's things I haven't been able to paint- another hike with my dogs, the dodgers game, my thoughts on joy, my new one and only niece and my idiot brother who's only sent us one picture, and well just scads of things... that being a big one and possibly more reflections on friends and cats and the wonder of dark chocoloate.

bon minuit.

new office weirdness

baby is in the corner. but i did find footage they accepted on friday so woo. on my way one pebble at a time.

current conditions

winter solstice is just a day away. so go celebrate the beauty of the earth and the official start of winter. it's a high of 63 today in LA, but the sun is warm. you can barely see the hollywood sign in this photo (on the right). i live just beyond that mountain range... and it is one of my favorite places to play (when it's not on fire, preferably when it is green. thanks rain, lets not just dial it in this year but try try try!) i've dyed my hair a darkerbrown which is just really my hair color without highlights and now no more grey. even if i do get constantly mistaken for a 23 yr old. which is fine. reminds me of the discrimination and envy that being young garners. like its okay to still be trying to figure out what you want to do with your job, your life... to live with your parents, to look and be fabulous with no excuses... even if i am working on breaking my fastfood habit.rachel is actually turning 24. she is not 16. she is also aware of the discrimination and envy that being young garners. we both look fabulous (okay she is looking a little goofy but that's okay) in this our bathroom, where all the cool kids hang, smoke cigarettes, gossip and talk about their teachers before class. on this her last day (mine is next friday) we will go get our lunch in the cafeteria and blow off work. maybe scratch our names into the desktop. we're not sure yet.below: is a perfect example of holiday fun from kristen. she made us peanut brittle and told us she's not decorating her house but her cubicle for christmas. i do not think you should ever have to make this choice but it makes me happy to see it. the snowman lights up, and the lights are tres festive...
we went to the lobby to see the warm and golden christmas being thrown away, not because it's like so over and they're already decorating for valentine's day but bcs fresh and natural is apparently a fire hazard even if they're not near the lights or remotely near a hot surface. this is a good example of how we view nature in LA. i am not among them, but there it is. .. i mean don't even get me started about the LA River. anyway, goodbye glisten'ee buildings. till next time. to do: eat peanut brittle, go get lunch, workout, drink water, read shadow of the wind, job search, take stuff to goodwill, think about christmas presents and cards and try and have a merry merry.

alright whatever, i'm posting

i have to blog about a party and the pipe leak and okay christmas things, to keep it topical... i like daisy's idea of best and worst moments bcs each year becomes more obscure and i tend to repress. but i'm behind. my current obsessions are these: passing french 1. my final is on wednesday and i've registered for french 2. though my professor is glad i've turned my back on my german ancestry he still sort of dislikes me. whatever. i'm crossing my fingers for a C+ and wanting to be pleasantly surprised if i get a B-. and besides that, hello, i'm going to be jobless again. the show's not getting picked up, i didn't get fired, most of the people here like me, i think, unless i'm wrong, which you know, but at least the VP asked if i would be interested in producing and asked for my resume, and she's like, well not that we're hiring right now but... which means, if we fire someone or a position opens up... yah. uh huh. unsureville. anyway i'm still living paycheck to paycheck and the car payment's- yike- which by the way, i've named my car Lolly. This is sort of anti-me but i'm going to go with it. and that's life, who doesn't live this way. i don't know. one day i might have a job that i care about and feel a discerning level of responsibility for. but for now i'm watching absurd fellini films, taking IQ tests (130), checking realitystaff.com and waiting for more rain. but it's been a streak. a mad dash of almost solid employ from 6/26/06 to now... with only maybe a month 1/2 off in btw... so maybe. it won't end here, well it really can't. i can't afford it too... but hey, another office to photograph, people to talk about. so it goes. it goes. more interesting things to blog about later- like the price of my monthly planner: $16.99 or my obsession with the 7up series and rockband on xbox. happy tuesday.

here we go

so i meant to catch more of the festivities of the place but in my panoramic quests i totally failed. but i assure you it's totally christmasy here. though i'm not at all feeling in the spirit of things. in our office lobby there's a lovely fresh swag with gold and earth tones but then you walk toward our receptionist its nothing but red and silver. a hideous clash of warmth and modern sterility. i don't get it. in order to attempt to get into the spirit of things i put a bow on the orange square of my desk. the VP who returned from maternity leave (as overheard by rachel) asked the other VP: who's sitting at my old asst. desk? she was equally captivated by the paper, and her memory jogged she didn't recall me in horror- the other VP said, what? is she not in yet?... i mean if you're going to give me no official start time you can't expect me to show up at regular programmed times. can you? anyway tonight is the HOLIDAY PARTY @ a place called the J Lounge. I totally googled it and the star rating of this place could not be worse... not only is there an 18% gratuity on card purchases, a $10 cover on the weekends, no tennis shoes allowed, but apparently lots of asian people go there, and that in itself is an intense subject of interest and scrutinity on the forum. i do not know why. we're going to kill a few hours and go to the MOCA then stop by for our free buffet, in our secluded terraced area... of this suspect hip downtown club. my only motivation, besides the free food and booze is the opportunity to take pictures for you. bcs after all i'm investigating it - not expecting to have a good time besides the buzz but because i know you'd want me to... i'll totally be there.

view from the vp's office of hollywood, etc.

tidings

today i didn't actually get a whole lot done. i thought a lot about things to take pictures of including the built in office phone booth. and also i made the assoc producer(AP) help me look for the roof access to our bldg. FOUND IT. and it's pretty fabulous... now we just need a 'things to do while on the roof list'

also i've analyzed the position of hiebert and it's fairly feng-shui appropriate, my back is to a wall. i've put the orange chair into the (NE)corner on the right and my fav brown chair to its left. i just don't know what to do with the white board in front of me. also... and here is the one downfall of where i am is that people have to constantly walk behind me, ala hallway- and i feel their imposition more than my own bcs they have to get to their offices on my right. which is why they wanted to give me a smaller non hiebert model.

also also how do we deal with dickholes working in the company that espouses integrity as their #1 priority. AP asks me what to do and i feel conflicted btw my give them shit, confront them or as she wants, let it slide and chalk it up to momentary insanity... things said to my AP as she's tried to learn her job by people NOT in our office: "When are you going to start doing things on your own, and stop asking us questions. We're not nice people. I am not a nice person!" and an email: "Sorry, Illbay Axtonpay, isn't feeling it right now, so we're not coming down." It was worse than that but i'm going to have to write this shite down next time. The VP of Programming was in our office when we got the news that Illbay wouldn't be spending 10minutes with us, and 10 minutes only- and he asked her to print out the email and took it with him out of the office. Nice! Apparently he thought it rude and inconsiderate too! I mean she couldn't call?!

So anyway I love my JOB. Sure i doubt my judgement. But it's because i love the AP and i feel i've been working with her for months- which is an awesome feeling and that bread and butter (my exec producers) are the sarcastic disgruntled boys i loved in college... and so far not a red flag to be seen except for all the hostile elements without... but my little nest is nothing but fun so far. hurrah!