I sent out five letters to be mailed to various parts of Illinois ranging from its largest to (probably) one of its smallest towns. And one to Michigan-almost forgot about that. Writing letters is so fun. I had forgotten how fun, actually.
SO with that I am soliciting you, my readers, for some help:
I have a bookshelf. Only three shelves are filled with books. I also have a wall with a mirror and lots of space. SEND ME PICTURES--I don't care if they're drawn or photographed, but send me pictures. They can be silly or seriously or sentimental, but all I ask is that you mail them to me. Let me know if you need my address in Glendale, because, and I'm serious here I'm serious, folks, brown walls are not pleasant. However, pictures, like the ones on my cabinet in my room, are extremely heart-lightening and superfun. And I want to remember everyone. AND you will probably get a letter back because I love writing letters. And because I don't have to walk down 17 floors and through a creepy hallway to mail them--I just reach out my front door.
So this is quite the deal people. It's better than Shamwow. It's better the Oxyclean. Don't send 19.95, send a picture, and in return you get a piece of your work in sunny Glendale and a return letter. From ME!
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Super Bowl Blues
My team won. The Steelers have six Super Bowl wins--more than anyone else. Beautiful. Chicago sent me over 100 text messages tonight, plus two or three phone calls, plus some outgoing ones of my own. The Super Bowl is honestly a bigger deal to me than my birthday. It's something I look forward to every year, and I'm glad I had a place to go tonight. But damn it, Chicago misses me. And I miss it.
But wasn't that game amazing? That was a Super Bowl. It was only boring for about ten minutes. Excitement, close calls, weird calls, and good defense from both sides all the way through. Just brilliant. And Santonio Holmes deserved to be MVP, hands down. He played a great game.
On a sidenote:
I haven't hugged a single person in two weeks. Isn't that strange to think about?
But wasn't that game amazing? That was a Super Bowl. It was only boring for about ten minutes. Excitement, close calls, weird calls, and good defense from both sides all the way through. Just brilliant. And Santonio Holmes deserved to be MVP, hands down. He played a great game.
On a sidenote:
I haven't hugged a single person in two weeks. Isn't that strange to think about?
Friday, January 30, 2009
Recap of Week 2 in LA
-Went to church in a nightclub. Interesting.
-Got two calls about potential jobs. We'll see if any of them lead anywhere. I really want the one.
-Got a parking ticket. $50.00. Again, I hope the jobs lead somewhere.
-Became totally creeped out by someone I thought might be a friend.
-Have spent about 15 hours in class. Not sure how I feel about it.
-Filled up my gas tank.
-Saw the ocean. Or a gaping black hole that was going to kill me. Or both. Not sure.
None of this is in order.
I'm going to write a species-ist story about humans and squirrels because I've nothing better to do.
One day, a squirrel went to his neighbor's house. He climbed the siding to ring the doorbell. His neighbor, a middle-aged woman named Pam, answered. Pam, as it turns out, was deathly afraid of rodents, so she screamed and slammed the door. The squirrel's little paw got caught in the door and one of his little digits was cut off. The woman screamed and called for her oldest son, who picked it up and threw it away. Indignant at this blatant species-ism, the squirrel went to an attorney.
"Listen, I have lived in this neighborhood for years, and this woman just cut off my finger. What are my rights?"
The lawyer just stared at him.
Again, the squirrel became indignant. He went to PETA.
"Listen, I have been mistreated and then denied proper help in court."
PETA representatives told him that unless his species was farmed for food or used in coats, not to bother them. They had baby seals and mink to save.
After being rejected by PETA, the little squirrel gathered other little squirrels. Together, they decided they would exact revenge upon the woman and her inconsiderate, digit-snatching ways. So together, they tipped over the squirrel's tree onto her house. The roof caved, and the woman came running and screaming from her house as the little squirrels all dispersed.
It was only then that the squirrel realized he no longer had a home. Once again indignant, he asked his fellow squirrels why they didn't stop him. One squirrel dared answer the little fella in his rage.
"Dude, we just got you a new house. Move in."
So the little squirrel moved into the caved-in house. He became a Gatsby of sorts, parleying his indignation into the appearance of money. After all, what other squirrel lives in a house?
He almost lived happily ever after.
Eventually, the other squirrels, in their own indignation, realized that they had created this monster and he had never properly repaid them. So they staged a mutiny. They took over his home, kicked him out, and then cut off all of his digits and his head. The house, once a nice place, became a squirrel slum of sorts, after first becoming gang headquarters.
This all took place in the course of a week, and by that time, the family had hired someone to renovate their home and exterminate the little squirrels inside. No one was left to be indignant, and, once again, humans prevailed.
-Got two calls about potential jobs. We'll see if any of them lead anywhere. I really want the one.
-Got a parking ticket. $50.00. Again, I hope the jobs lead somewhere.
-Became totally creeped out by someone I thought might be a friend.
-Have spent about 15 hours in class. Not sure how I feel about it.
-Filled up my gas tank.
-Saw the ocean. Or a gaping black hole that was going to kill me. Or both. Not sure.
None of this is in order.
I'm going to write a species-ist story about humans and squirrels because I've nothing better to do.
One day, a squirrel went to his neighbor's house. He climbed the siding to ring the doorbell. His neighbor, a middle-aged woman named Pam, answered. Pam, as it turns out, was deathly afraid of rodents, so she screamed and slammed the door. The squirrel's little paw got caught in the door and one of his little digits was cut off. The woman screamed and called for her oldest son, who picked it up and threw it away. Indignant at this blatant species-ism, the squirrel went to an attorney.
"Listen, I have lived in this neighborhood for years, and this woman just cut off my finger. What are my rights?"
The lawyer just stared at him.
Again, the squirrel became indignant. He went to PETA.
"Listen, I have been mistreated and then denied proper help in court."
PETA representatives told him that unless his species was farmed for food or used in coats, not to bother them. They had baby seals and mink to save.
After being rejected by PETA, the little squirrel gathered other little squirrels. Together, they decided they would exact revenge upon the woman and her inconsiderate, digit-snatching ways. So together, they tipped over the squirrel's tree onto her house. The roof caved, and the woman came running and screaming from her house as the little squirrels all dispersed.
It was only then that the squirrel realized he no longer had a home. Once again indignant, he asked his fellow squirrels why they didn't stop him. One squirrel dared answer the little fella in his rage.
"Dude, we just got you a new house. Move in."
So the little squirrel moved into the caved-in house. He became a Gatsby of sorts, parleying his indignation into the appearance of money. After all, what other squirrel lives in a house?
He almost lived happily ever after.
Eventually, the other squirrels, in their own indignation, realized that they had created this monster and he had never properly repaid them. So they staged a mutiny. They took over his home, kicked him out, and then cut off all of his digits and his head. The house, once a nice place, became a squirrel slum of sorts, after first becoming gang headquarters.
This all took place in the course of a week, and by that time, the family had hired someone to renovate their home and exterminate the little squirrels inside. No one was left to be indignant, and, once again, humans prevailed.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
And for what? More of the same?
So I started classes.
I thought it'd help me establish a routine. I thought it'd help me meet people.
And it's just like January in Chicago, except I can go into the park and hike. While that makes a huge difference, I feel a little... what's the word... ah, yes, screwed.
I had a great life established in Chicago, and, while I acknowledged that I was happy, I did not fully appreciate what having present, wonderful friends, a job, classes, and a decent and established reputation could do for a person. I was, in short, a big fish in a small-ish pond. And instead of moving to a lake, I went straight for the Pacific Ocean.
And, to quote Coldplay, I got lost. Only, thank goodness... maybe... I don't have a gun.
Classes, as it turns out, are short, sweet, and next to useless. The people I've met are all alright, but no one knows the area, so we're all at a loss as to what to do. Many seem either timid or bitchy--daunted by the competition and compelled to shut down and show off rather than open up and build camaraderie. It's like being on the Titanic. We all are going down, but some of us will get a lifeboat. And some will kill to get the lifeboat. If we'd all cooperate, I'd say one lifeboat could probably hold all of us.
Point is, I left Chicago because I was bored and because I felt out of place--the poor kid at a private college. Now I'm still poor and still bored, and, even worse I'm lonely.
To make matters worse, I honestly believed all this faith people seem to have in me. Now it feels like a lot of smoke up my ass, and I'm questioning myself constantly. I can't even open my mouth all the way, my jaw is so tense. Maybe I could cheer myself up by standing in front of the mirror and trying to yawn.
And maybe I could try and see what they said they saw. Maybe there's a revolutionary in there somewhere. And maybe not.
But damn it, the sun still shines. And thank God for that.
I thought it'd help me establish a routine. I thought it'd help me meet people.
And it's just like January in Chicago, except I can go into the park and hike. While that makes a huge difference, I feel a little... what's the word... ah, yes, screwed.
I had a great life established in Chicago, and, while I acknowledged that I was happy, I did not fully appreciate what having present, wonderful friends, a job, classes, and a decent and established reputation could do for a person. I was, in short, a big fish in a small-ish pond. And instead of moving to a lake, I went straight for the Pacific Ocean.
And, to quote Coldplay, I got lost. Only, thank goodness... maybe... I don't have a gun.
Classes, as it turns out, are short, sweet, and next to useless. The people I've met are all alright, but no one knows the area, so we're all at a loss as to what to do. Many seem either timid or bitchy--daunted by the competition and compelled to shut down and show off rather than open up and build camaraderie. It's like being on the Titanic. We all are going down, but some of us will get a lifeboat. And some will kill to get the lifeboat. If we'd all cooperate, I'd say one lifeboat could probably hold all of us.
Point is, I left Chicago because I was bored and because I felt out of place--the poor kid at a private college. Now I'm still poor and still bored, and, even worse I'm lonely.
To make matters worse, I honestly believed all this faith people seem to have in me. Now it feels like a lot of smoke up my ass, and I'm questioning myself constantly. I can't even open my mouth all the way, my jaw is so tense. Maybe I could cheer myself up by standing in front of the mirror and trying to yawn.
And maybe I could try and see what they said they saw. Maybe there's a revolutionary in there somewhere. And maybe not.
But damn it, the sun still shines. And thank God for that.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
I've Got 5 Minutes
About to head to church in a nightclub.
Found my purse and found some people to help carry this ugly desk into my house. But now I have a desk.
Bought a chair at IKEA. Bought a useless extension cord. Seriously--why would you make an extension cord that only supports the 2-pronged plugs. I will never understand.
Last night, I finally realized just how far 2000 miles is. It's funny how when you lose identity, your access to cash, and your transportation how good even Chicago in January can look. Especially when you've got your giant, your old woman, your musician, and your secretary all contacting you letting you know "they'd help if they could."
It's like I told Jordan today: they have it so lucky; I get out here first, knowing no one so that when they get out here, they have it easy. They'll have the friendly face with the car that can haul anything and park anywhere. They'll have the guide and the contacts. They'll have me. But I guess that's all I have, too, and everything did work out. What it comes down to is the fact that I am pretty neat and regardless of one bad day and one 24-hour period when I would have rather been in Chicago, I am doing just fine.
The sun came out today for the first time in two days. I swear that makes all the difference.
Now, to tackle that dead mouse in my kitchen...
Found my purse and found some people to help carry this ugly desk into my house. But now I have a desk.
Bought a chair at IKEA. Bought a useless extension cord. Seriously--why would you make an extension cord that only supports the 2-pronged plugs. I will never understand.
Last night, I finally realized just how far 2000 miles is. It's funny how when you lose identity, your access to cash, and your transportation how good even Chicago in January can look. Especially when you've got your giant, your old woman, your musician, and your secretary all contacting you letting you know "they'd help if they could."
It's like I told Jordan today: they have it so lucky; I get out here first, knowing no one so that when they get out here, they have it easy. They'll have the friendly face with the car that can haul anything and park anywhere. They'll have the guide and the contacts. They'll have me. But I guess that's all I have, too, and everything did work out. What it comes down to is the fact that I am pretty neat and regardless of one bad day and one 24-hour period when I would have rather been in Chicago, I am doing just fine.
The sun came out today for the first time in two days. I swear that makes all the difference.
Now, to tackle that dead mouse in my kitchen...
Friday, January 23, 2009
Getting the Koala Out
When I was small, my dad put a koala in my head. His name was Gary. He's small an gray, like all koalas. He can talk, and he can sing and dance. He's rather partial to the Blues Brothers theme song, and I'm finally sharing him with the world.
Dad's bedtime story is becoming a screen play. He's stuck with me for so long, and he has taught me to be myself, to love myself, and to pursue my dreams on my terms. I just wanna get Gary on paper so maybe other people can benefit as well. So today, I did just that. I started my outline and I wrote.
Now I want to write here.
Today, it has rained most the day. It's nice, though, that it's not ice pellets stinging my face. But that's just the weather. Nothing gets this place down. It's amazing. Yesterday, I hiked to the Hollywood sign and met a WWII veteran and former Olympian, a lovely man named Lou. He talked to us for nearly three hours and welcomed three strangers into his home. The strange thing is, everyone on the street or on the trails smiled and said hello. I just cannot get over how kind everyone is so far. Even the dogs are friendlier. In Chicago, if anyone was walking their dog, they would give you a dirty look for staring at it. Here, no one cares if you bend over and pet the dog. Actually, yesterday on the foothills, one dog actually followed us for a long while. As much as I'm alone here and know so few people, I don't feel it. In Chicago, unless I was surrounded by my friends, I felt lonely all the time. It was cold, even in the summer, and you'd be hard pressed to find a smile. Here, I feel a part of humanity and I feel human. I feel closer to my friends despite the 2000 miles distance, and I love it. To think a week ago I was scared to death and crying in my car makes me laugh.
Last night, I got connected with a few people--Columbia graduates. They were great fun, and it was awesome to have conversation and to meet new people. It makes me excited to start classes and meet even more people.
In terms of my faith, I feel like I've grown leaps and bounds even in just five days. God has truly shown his presence in my life. What's really awesome is I feel like I can say that here and face less judgment than I would back home or in Chicago. I feel my prayers again, and I can feel God's presence. Everything is working out so well, and it is clearly not my doing. He has had my back all this time, and now, in the valley, I see it. And there's no shadow of death here--it's all sunshine.
Dad's bedtime story is becoming a screen play. He's stuck with me for so long, and he has taught me to be myself, to love myself, and to pursue my dreams on my terms. I just wanna get Gary on paper so maybe other people can benefit as well. So today, I did just that. I started my outline and I wrote.
Now I want to write here.
Today, it has rained most the day. It's nice, though, that it's not ice pellets stinging my face. But that's just the weather. Nothing gets this place down. It's amazing. Yesterday, I hiked to the Hollywood sign and met a WWII veteran and former Olympian, a lovely man named Lou. He talked to us for nearly three hours and welcomed three strangers into his home. The strange thing is, everyone on the street or on the trails smiled and said hello. I just cannot get over how kind everyone is so far. Even the dogs are friendlier. In Chicago, if anyone was walking their dog, they would give you a dirty look for staring at it. Here, no one cares if you bend over and pet the dog. Actually, yesterday on the foothills, one dog actually followed us for a long while. As much as I'm alone here and know so few people, I don't feel it. In Chicago, unless I was surrounded by my friends, I felt lonely all the time. It was cold, even in the summer, and you'd be hard pressed to find a smile. Here, I feel a part of humanity and I feel human. I feel closer to my friends despite the 2000 miles distance, and I love it. To think a week ago I was scared to death and crying in my car makes me laugh.
Last night, I got connected with a few people--Columbia graduates. They were great fun, and it was awesome to have conversation and to meet new people. It makes me excited to start classes and meet even more people.
In terms of my faith, I feel like I've grown leaps and bounds even in just five days. God has truly shown his presence in my life. What's really awesome is I feel like I can say that here and face less judgment than I would back home or in Chicago. I feel my prayers again, and I can feel God's presence. Everything is working out so well, and it is clearly not my doing. He has had my back all this time, and now, in the valley, I see it. And there's no shadow of death here--it's all sunshine.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Los Angeles Update
I'm in LA County now--Glendale. The place I found via craigslist is quite impressive--it's cute, my roommates are incredibly kind, and the neighborhood is beautiful. I've nearly unpacked, and I'm trying to get in touch with people out here. It's tough, though. You can't just red line it to where ever or meet people on campus. Here, it's driving and gas money and traffic. But it's also only been three days. I have to remember that.
My cell phone charger port came detached from the phone, so I'm waiting on a new one as the batter power dwindles.
Honestly, though, I love it here. Granted, I'm in the "burbs", but it's great. People are pretty friendly, too. Even the traffic, which I thought would be angry, is actually pretty laid back. As much as people go too fast, and as much as it's crowded, everyone seems to respect the fact that we're all in the same boat. Rarely have I heard anyone honk their horns.
Right now, I'm watching 30 Rock on DVR because my roommates and I love good TV, apparently. Haha. More later...
My cell phone charger port came detached from the phone, so I'm waiting on a new one as the batter power dwindles.
Honestly, though, I love it here. Granted, I'm in the "burbs", but it's great. People are pretty friendly, too. Even the traffic, which I thought would be angry, is actually pretty laid back. As much as people go too fast, and as much as it's crowded, everyone seems to respect the fact that we're all in the same boat. Rarely have I heard anyone honk their horns.
Right now, I'm watching 30 Rock on DVR because my roommates and I love good TV, apparently. Haha. More later...
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