More Top Ten

The Top Ten Things I Hate About Me:

1. I'm too prone to let people and situations upset me or make me feel picked on.


2. My face isn't as symmetrical as I'd like it to be (it should be some consolation that Anna Nicole Smith said the same thing about herself, but it isn't), and I don't look as good as I did when I was younger.


3. My financial situation isn't what I wish it was.


4. I'm too easily intimidated by authority figures.


5. I'm not multi-lingual (I can get along in French okay, and I know some German, but I'd like to be really fluent in at least two other languages).


6. I'm incredibly impatient, even when it's to my own disadvantage.


7. I've never managed to publish a book or get a screenplay produced.


8. I've allowed myself to become very discouraged about #7, above.


9. My gut reaction when asked to do something is to say no.


10. I'm a terrible procrastinator.

Ten Things Most People Don't Know About Me

It's kind of a trend on some of the blogs I read to write 7 or 10 or 22 or however many "things you don't know about me," so I thought I'd try my hand at it.

1. I cry at movies. A lot. And really hard. Sometimes I audibly sob so much that I disturb the people around me. When I went to see a Lassie movie in the 1990s (I owned a collie at the time) I burst into tears as the opening credits began to roll! What an idiot I am! I've also been known to cry during cat food commercials.

2. I think all drugs should be legal, but I hate to even be in the same house with people smoking marijuana, and I don't like to be around other drugs, either. I think they should be legal, because the government programs aren't working and are a waste of time and money, plus, if people want to get high, it's their business. I hate marijuana because it stinks, and people act so goofy when they're on that and other drugs. I know, I'm no fun at all, right? But I think the AfroMan song is hilarious.

3 Okay, here's another sort of political one: I could care less about who marries who. Gay marriage, group marriage, animal marriage, even incest. The whole topic is kind of boring to me. As long as they are consenting adults and there's no abuse going on, I'm clueless about why anyone even cares.

4. I like to watch trashy TV shows in Spanish. I'm trying to learn Spanish, a little bit at a time, and so sometimes I watch these shows on Univision that are, like, the equivalent of the Jerry Springer show. I'd never in a million years watch these things in English, but in Spanish, I find them highly entertaining.

5. I've actually been to Graceland.

6. I hate to tell my age. I once had a shrink refuse to treat me because I didn't want to discuss my age on the first visit. These things require a build-up of trust, don't they?

7. More than anything, I want to be a published novelist and produced screenwriter. And I don't mean published by Piddly-Axx Press or produced by the Stoner-in-His-Basement Film Company. I've put so much of my heart and soul into my writing, and I still can't seem to make it happen.

8. I have a secret Indian (Native American) name that I was given by my half-Indian mother and told to keep a secret forever. I know some tribes call this a "War Name" and say you're supposed to draw upon the name for strength. I've never revealed my secret name to anyone.

9. I sleep with stuffed animals. Every night. If I go on a trip, I'll take a miniature one with me.

10. I don't much like to make lists like this one. So I'll stop now.

Last Night's Dream

[Warning: This is not an upbeat, cheerful, happy entry. If you're looking for that, check out Jorge Garcia's blog.]

My mother died when I was 10. I was devastated, especially because this happened at a time when I was going though horrible "issues" with the kids at school. I grew about four inches in height that year and was suddenly one of the tallest kids in the whole school, towering over all the boys and all but one of the girls. This led to substantial humiliation and rejection. Moreover, Marilyn O., who'd been my best friend since kindergarten, abandoned the newly gawky me for a malicious but cute little girl named Marilyn S.

Anyway, I was ridiculed on a daily basis, both in school and around the neighborhood, but the incident I remember the best took place at my mother's funeral.

It was a hot and sunny August day. I was 10 years old, as mentioned before. I remember being told before the service that I should "be a big girl and try not to cry." I was given some pills to take: Valium or some other sedative.

After my mother's casket was lowered into the ground, the adults put me back in the funeral-home's limo while they stood around the grave and talked.

I sat there by myself in the limo, miserable, lonely, bored, and doped up. The limo had automatic windows, and in my soporific state, I began playing with the one nearest me, pushing the button on the armrest, making it go up and down, up and down, up and down.

I gazed through the window as I played with it, and suddenly I noticed Marilyn O. and Marilyn S. standing not far away from the limo. They were pointing and blatantly making fun of me for playing with the window. There were no adults around to stop them.

So that was my dream last night, reliving that moment at my mother's funeral when I was derided and ridiculed.

Did I Mention . . .

. . . that I had food poisoning last weekend? (That beautiful graphic above is an illustration of the bacteria that can cause food poisoning.)

I am very susceptible to food poisoning, for some reason.

My friend that I had lunch with had the same sushi, the same tempura, the same everything, but he's a member of the Cast-Iron Stomach Club and never got sick.

I know it was that Japanese restaurant, because nothing else I'd had in the previous 36 hours could possibly have made me sick. I mean, a peanut-butter sandwich, or cereal with honey? I don't think so.

Food Poisoning

I've had food poisoning since Saturday. So I've been doing something I haven't done for years--sitting around, goofing off, listening to music.

There's an Internet radio station called Pandora, where you can input a favorite song or singer, and it will pull up that and similar music.

There was a pair of female singers, Hazel and Alice, that I discovered a few years ago. One was, I think, Pete Seeger's sister-in-law or something like that, and the other was a bluegrass singer from by-God-West-Virginia. They're unusual because they're women singing bluegrass. I'm not into country music, and especially not into bluegrass, but their music grabbed me for some reason.

Anyway, I put them into Pandora, and the system is bringing up all these mournful bluegrass songs about lovers dying of tuberculosis, or young men getting killed in the Civil War, or mothers having their babies die, or kids being ridiculed by other kids at school for being poor. And I'm ready to cry and suddenly I understand why I never do this--just sit around and listen to music:

it's frickin' depressing!!!

Who View?

I guess it's just me. I don't get The View.

I don't understand why that show has any audience at all.

I confess I've never watched it. But it seems like every week another cat fight is happening among the harridans, and that fight becomes a featured link on AOL. I've clicked on maybe two occasions (counting today), plus I saw one clip on Leilouta's blog a couple of years ago.

It's a bunch of bubble-headed harpies* shrieking at each other.

Why would anyone watch that?

It reminded me of holiday parties I got dragged to as a kid when the adults would talk politics and drunken Aunt Linda would begin screaming at equally drunken Aunt Celia (names changed).

Or of the ear-piercing voice of witchy old bat and seventh-grade teacher Mrs. Chase (her real name--let her evil deeds be known!) yelling, "None of you deserves to pass!"

Today I got pulled in by the AOL featured story about a discussion on The View of Sarah Palin. (I was hoping to see a good photo of Palin because I want to check out her glasses and get a similar pair). So I clicked.

Same thing.

Harpies.

Bickering.

Shrilly.

All of them bloated and fat.

Their high shrieking voices are worse than fingernails down a chalk board. Why would anyone tune in for that?

I don't get it.

*In late Greek mythology, the harpies are not just ugly shrieking bird-women, they are obnoxious pests who descend on outdoor banquets and crap all over the food.

"Make Money on Blogger!"

I keep seeing this thing that says, "Make Money on Blogger! Put Ads on Your Blog and Become an Instant Millionaire!"--well, not exactly, but you get the point.

It reminds me of the Joel Chandler Harris story where Brer Rabbit tells Brer Bear if he takes the appropriate action, all he has to do is wait for the big, round, silver dollars to pile up right in front of his eyes.

It can't be that easy! I mean, I've got four followers for two blogs, and two of those are the same person. So three people, two of whom are personal friends, are going to buy so much stuff from ads on my blog that I'll be retiring to Cancun in no time? Gee, am I wrong to be skeptical?

Oh, wait, there's the web traffic! Yes, the teeming hordes who are lurking unseen and reading my scintillating blog entries about crawling around the house after breaking my ankle! THEY will buy from the ads on my blogs, and avalanches of wealth will slide my way.

Somehow, I don't think it's a plan for financial success.

But I might add a "Donate via PayPal" button!

Two Weeks

Two weeks from today the movers are coming. Should I be panicking yet?

Naw.

It's kind of like dieting. Every day you tell yourself, today I'll cut back on what I eat, and then you pass Steak n Shake and pull in for a milkshake.

Every day I tell myself, today I'll start packing, and then I get distracted by playing on the Internet in YouTube or whatever, and nothing gets done.

Of course I do have to work, so I guess that's an excuse for a few of my hours each day.

But not for all of them.

The Insanity Continues

I am so-o-o-o busy right now. I only wish that were me above playing games. I have to be out of my house by July 24, and I have no idea how I'm going to accomplish it.

I'm still having some trouble walking due to the effing ankle sprain, so that is slowing me down A LOT.

Plus although I usually work online only, this month I'm working on site, which is a highly convenient one-hour commute (that's sarcasm), so that wastes even more time.

My only entertainment is watching reruns of The Rockford Files on the retro station every night, and for the past two days I haven't even had time to do that. Whah!!!

Mood Swings

Geez, I must be manic depressive or something.

I just noticed that I created two entries, one called "Fun!" and one called "Waxing Morose," within a few hours of each other!

Waxing Morose

I took all references to being a writer out of my profile.

I am nothing more than a technical writer, which is about as much like a real writer as a pig is like a football.

I'm utterly broken hearted over my failure to get any of my four novels or four screenplays accepted. I can't even get an agent. My heart is shattered into a million pieces. I'm a failure.

Fun!

It took me forever to find this online. Anyway, here it is, for the time being (it'll probably get taken down soon!). P.S. It ends rather abruptly. P.P.S. Hope no one takes this personally (you know who you are).

Hair

I found this cool website online where you can upload a photo and put a different hair color and style on your face. Here I am as a brunette.

Write?

Maybe I should take the "I can write" out of my profile.

I entered a TV series pilot script and concept at Slamdance, and found out today I didn't even make the quarterfinalists.

I didn't really expect to win, but some encouragement would have been nice.

Marcus Aurelius

I love reading quotations from Marcus Aurelius (who was, by the way, the father of the evil Commodus played by Joaquin Phoenix in Gladiator).

I have lots of favorites. I latch onto a favorite and forget all the others, then reread them all again, find one I'd never noticed before or had noticed and then forgotten, and it becomes a new favorite.

Anyway, here's my new favorite today:

"Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking."

Here's a cute little video I found on YouTube:

SNAFU

Okay, the formatting on this blog is all effed up and I can't figure out how to fix it. I got help from users in a forum and followed their instructions, but I think it's an internal error at blogger because when I try to fix it, I get this weird error message about ". . . can't access . . . blah blah blah blah." It won't even let me start over by picking a new template. Plus it seems stupid to have two blogs, so maybe I'll just abandon this one and put everything in the Turquoise Trailer blog. No one reads this stuff anyway.

"Aqaba Is Over There; It's Only a Matter of Going."

Today I'm thinking about my favorite scene from my favorite movie, Lawrence of Arabia.

In case you don't know the plot, it's World War One and Lawrence (Peter O'Toole) is an Englishman helping the Bedouins in the Middle East in their revolt against the Turks, who are allies of the Germans.

After a night of intense thought, Lawrence decides the thing to do is to capture the coastal town of Aqaba. This will enable the British forces to be supplied by sea and it will strengthen the British control over the Suez Canal. The problem is that Aqaba can't be taken by sea because it's heavily armed, and it can't be approached by land without crossing the world's worst desert.

So here's the clip, in which Lawrence proposes his plan (to take Aqaba by land) to one of the Bedouin leaders, Sharif Ali (Omar Sharif).

To me, it's an allegory about having lofty goals and attempting the impossible.

Frustration

Doing this blog can be an exercise in frustation.

First of all, if I add a picture, it always shows up at the top of the post. There's no way to specify where I want it when I upload it. I have to upload it and then move it, which can only be done by going into the "edit html" section, which scares the hell out of me because I don't understand html.

Then, once I move the picture, suddenly the paragraphs all have triple spacing between them. I have to futz around with the spacing in the "compose" function, and if that doesn't work, I have to go back into the dreaded html section and try to make the changes there.

Then, if I manage to get the spacing right, sometimes when I hit "publish post" I get a warning message about how there's something wrong with the html.

And last night, my "about me," "blog archive," "my blog list," and "followers" sections mysteriously moved to the bottom of the blog page and there's no way in hell, it seems, to move them back to the right side where they belong.

Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhh!

Light Therapy

I'm doing my tanning thing again. First thing every morning all last winter, I used a small sunlamp on my face to eliminate "winter pallor." I never really baked in front of it, but for some reason I used to really look forward to sitting in front of the lamp and listening to Internet radio.

A psychiatrist friend of mine said I was inadvertantly getting giving myself light therapy, which is a treatment for depression.

I stopped the sunlamp thing after I sprained my ankle three weeks ago today, and now I think maybe that's why my mood has been so low.

So this morning, I resumed the sunlamp, which is kind of goofy seeing as how it's mid-June and I can just go sit in the sun, but go figure.

Mood, Part Two

I think I must be depressed. I have absolutely no appetite, which is odd for me, because I typically eat like a horse. (Fortunately, I come from a family of skinny women, so I don't gain weight--I know you hate my guts for this, but I can't help it!)

Anyway, it's all I can do to force down a milkshake every day for the sake of getting some nutrition. Nothing else sounds good to me. I got a box of cookies last week as a gift, and it took me almost a week to finish them. Normally I'd polish them off at one sitting.

And suddenly tonight, I feel like going to bed early, like now, 10 p.m. This is really odd, because I've been known to stay up until 5 a.m. or even 7 a.m.

I thought maybe the appetite thing was due to the ibuprofen I've been taking for my ankle, so I stopped it for a couple of days. But I still didn't feel like eating.

I do think the whole thing revolves around the ankle sprain, which is almost healed. No appetite and excessive sleep are symptoms of depression, but I don't really feel depressed. I mean, I'm not crying or anything.

I think I'm just bored.