recap. (no writing talent currently on display.)

First off, I should be in bed right now.

This is approximately the third entry I've started since my last post. This early in writing it, I'm not sure if it will, in fact, actually be published or if I'll fall asleep in the middle. If the second does occur, I envision it happening like I'm a cartoon character: my head will fall on the keyboard, filling the entire screen with indefinite repetitions of the letter "h."

So, yeah, there's been a lot happening. And by "a lot," I basically mean "normal for other people" or "still not much, but I'm used to 'nothing.'"

Easter. I wore the afore mentioned new clothes and hung out with family members all day after church. Good stuff.

Monday I hung out with two girls I work with. The plan was to go to the library in downtown LA. But it was closed. According to the homeless guy on the stairs, Caesar Chavez's birthday was the reason. So, coffee at the Coffee Bean near the Hilton instead.

Tuesday John and I got our taxes done. This is the first time I've done that. And I just had to pick this year to have seven W2's from four different states. Good. Gravy. As some would say.

Tuesday night my mother-in-law and her brand new husband (they got hitched in Reno, NV) drove up on their new Harley and stayed the night with us. Today, they came to the store where I work and took pictures of me. Then they left. I think they're in Arizona now.

I've felt pretty weird lately. Sort of like everything that's happening feels somehow...surreal.

a study on the word "alien."

Alright, so, I'm doing this typing job on the side for my boss. And I'm not supposed to talk about it. Because apparently his wife, who is also my boss, would get really really angry if she knew one of her employees was working on it. And this worries me. Because I don't want to get fired. Not that I think I would be, even if she found it, but still...it's weird.

And what I'm typing is rather hard to read. It's kind of ironic that this job came up just after I reread the partial diary I kept during college. I read it and thought Wow, I was overdramatic. Not to mention that weird kind of naive, the kind where you really kind of know what's going on, but you're still too young and inexperienced to fully grasp how everything fits together. Of course, I'm still not totally out of that phase yet, being only 23, with my whole life ahead of me...and absolutely no career prospects coming into the horizon at present.

Anyway, I'm reading this stuff he wrote way back in 1960, when he was probably about my age. I guess I shouldn't really even be talking about it, so I'll just say this: There's no worry of me being corrupted by the rantings of a twentysomething self-exiled in London.

To demonstrate sort of how it feels, I made this. Well, to sort of demonstrate. My boss is Invader Zim. I am Stitch. And Lilo is society.

Or something pretentious like that.

i'm feeling a little small myself lately.

I actually wrote in my pen-and-paper journal last night, if that can be believed. Pages. And a few of them, at that. My mind is sooo busy lately.

And yet, for a couple of days now, I've had this nagging feeling. Like something horrible is about to happen...or maybe already happened and I don't know it yet. This morning I realized I'd forgotten about something pretty important, but that seems to be relatively easy to rectify (and almost already is)...so I don't really think that's what it is.

I took my grandma shopping today. We both got some Easter clothes that we were both really pleased with, or at least I think we were both pleased. Almost assuredly that is the case. I actually bought a skirt. My first new skirt in...a long time. I can barely remember the last time I was excited about Easter clothes.


Still Life.

The weather in LA is really weird. One day it will be the smoggiest, most disgusting atmosphere, like the city is festering in suffocation. Then the rain will come and go and mountains will suddenly appear where before there was only funk.


Rain soaked.

This morning the mountains looked lush and full as I rose out of the valley. They looked like they would feel soft. Like the back of my nephew's head after getting a "buzz cut" when he was about three. Only massive. And green.



I talked to him for a couple minutes on the phone today. And he seemed smaller somehow. Maybe because his voice sounds so small and shy on the phone. Like he's intimidated. At least...I know I feel smaller when I'm intimidated.

i'm a combination of enchanted and annoyed. *or* a study of the would-be well-read.

There's a guy who stops by the store almost every day while walking his husky, Chekhov. We keep dog biscuits behind the counter and I give Chekhov one whenever he comes in. He's a huge animal, really. Like a pony with perkier ears. Every time I give him a biscuit, his owner (whose name I've never learned) tells me, "He's gentle. He'd never bite." Because I act a little intimidated. And every time, Chekhov nips me a little. Not hard, just enough to make me react. So today I held my hand out flat and let him eat off of it. Which led to a hand full of dog spit.

*

There are these two guys that come in pretty frequently that I'm pretty sure have some form of OCD. Because they rearrange all the books we have stacked on the "to be shelved" table. You wouldn't think it would matter, and obviously they don't, but half the books on that table haven't been priced yet. The other day, one of these two guys came in and bought one of the books from the 99¢ racks we keep outside. He paid for it entirely with nickels.

*

An older guy named Phil comes in just about every Sunday. He wears dark sweaters with crisp-collared shirts underneath. His behavior has an uncanny way of being both shocking and endearing. One minute he's saying something completely offensive, like defending Japanese interment camps. Then he'll ask me my opinion of Pride and Prejudice, the question I've been wanting to answer since I first thought about working in a bookstore.

*

For some reason, people think when they only state the subject of their question bookstore employees can somehow formulate their thoughts. Example: "birds and butterflies." They don't even bother with the voice intonation of asking a question. This is my fantasy conversation:
Customer: "Photography."
Me:"Frogs."
"Excuse me?"
"Pickles."

maybe i'm just too picky.

John and I had a fabulous day yesterday geeking out about weird little sea creatures on the beach. I put up some photos, if you're interested.

We just got done watching our new Incredibles DVD. Such a good movie.

You know what movie I didn't really enjoy? Robots. Which is sad, because I'd really like to have good things to say about Blue Sky, since it's a cool, independent studio. But. Regardless of how fun to look at it was...I still didn't really like it.

And still, the worst part really had nothing to do with the movie. We saw it in an IMAX theater. Unfortunately, we ended up with seats really close to the screen. And then... And then they played the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory preview. Now, keep in mind, I never really liked the first Willy Wonka movie. And this one, with the wonderful Johnny Depp...looks...terrifying. He has crazy-looking fake teeth. Now, imagine Johnny, at his most Tim-Burton-scary...six stories high. Truly. Scary.

in which i discuss the downside of the stationary bike.

People who make exercise equipment must already assume no one is ever going to use it. If not, why do they manage to make equipment that couldn't possibly make actually completing a workout not only strenuous, but actually excruciatingly uncomfortable? That is the question I'm throwing out into the void tonight, because working out is hard enough without having the added discomfort of feeling like I'm sitting in a crappy Scandinavian Airlines airplane seat while doing it. I mean seriously. I should want to wimp out and stop bicycling because my legs feel the burn...not because there isn't a single way of doing it without hurting my butt.

On the plus side, King of Queens was on in the gym while I was doing it.

yet another missed opportunity.

I just finished Stop That Girl. I thought I'd look up the author to see if I could find anything else she's done...which led me to finding out about a book signing she did in West Hollywood. On Tuesday. My day off. And the day I read most of her book. This annoys me.

At any rate, the book was really really good. I've read it in every second of spare time I've had this week. I might write a real review later...dunno.

hey, monkeyface! ...just kidding.

I've updated the photos section. Took out the password. I mean, really, no one looks at this site that I don't know personally. (In fact, I can name the people who ever read this...perhaps only two of which aren't actually related to me.) So anyway, no more password. If you're in any of the pictures I put up and want me to take them down, reinstate said password, either because the idea of your picture being in a public domain makes you uneasy or because you think the pictures I chose make you look like a monkey, please let me know. Not all the pics are up yet, but I'm working on it.


Just Finished Reading:

Beverly Hills Gothic, By Paul B. Harris and Fawn Harris
Finally finished this one up today. It's supposed to be based on real people...but I've been having a hard time finding anything about them. The author is a really sweet customer who gave me (and two of my coworkers) a copy after talking to him about it in the store. Very strange book. Not the best writing, but the characters, especially Annabelle, are really interesting.




Just Started Reading:

Stop That Girl, By Elizabeth McKenzie
I got this a few days ago, but wouldn't let myself start it until I finished at least one of the books I'm already reading. It is super funny. I'm really into it. I hope it stays this good.






I'm such a geek.