Gainfully Unemployed

Is it normal to become irritated of looking for a job only two days into one's search, or does that just mean you're impatient? Is it possible to find a job that's fun, exciting, unique, fulfilling and that pays top $$$--or in even hoping so, does that just make you a hopeless dreamer?

I'm betting on my own conclusions.

So today I was called to the Bellagio to visit their employment center on the belief that I was to be interviewed re: my online application for a job in their PR department. I was, most unfortunately, wrong. And even more unfortunately, the only person there wearing a suit. What you actually do at the Bellagio employment center is flash your I.D. and confirm that you did, indeed, submit an online application. Then you leave. And then, drive to the mall to find something that doesn't make you look as fat as you think you are. Which is actually pretty difficult since it appears that you are, actually, as fat as you think you are.

But enough about me. I know you're really reading this blog because you're dying for updates about Love Like That. So here's an update. Love Like That has not been optioned by a major studio.

Nothing in Particular

In my quest to write meaningful, in-depth stuff instead of my own dopey thoughts about nothing important, I will say this: I had forgotten how fabulous this dry desert air is for my hair!

Now I have to go look for a job so I'll have less time to formulate my own dopey thoughts about nothing important. And less time to wonder about the status/fate of my 2006 RDI. Oh, and less time to read up on industry happenings that a) make me feel crazy because I never seem to know as much as my peers, and b) make me feel crazy because the more I know the less I want to know. Oh, and less time to worry about not having any income. Yeah, I think that's the most important one.

Bright Light City Gonna Set My Soul...Gonna Set My Soul On Fire

This will be my last post for who knows how long, because tomorrow I am setting out for the great westward yonder and after that, setting out for something even more frightening--a full-time, permanent job. Huh, so what's so frightening about that, you ask? Well...it's been more than a year since I've had one and all that leisure time (ahem, sloth) has made me forget what it's really like to get up every day and go somewhere, and actually have to put a little effort into something other than deciding what to eat for lunch and if I'd rather watch reruns of The Nanny or The X-Files, and actually have to pay to keep living in my living environment. Woe is me, I know. And at the age of 30 it's high time that I "remember" these things.

I have two major concerns about settling down in Las Vegas and no--one isn't that I'm going to have to take a second job to pay for my gambling expenses. But one is that I might have to take a second job to pay for the weekends I'll surely spend with friends who are entertaining the ruse of visiting me when they're actually visiting Las Vegas. And the other is that after a while, I'll start to dislike all the things I like about Vegas because it will become mainplace. Just like Hollywood became mainplace when I lived there, and suddenly everything that had attracted me to it made me want to get away from it fast. Those concerns aside, I've always wanted to live there...so why worry about it. What made living in Hollywood spectacular was that I'd always wanted to live there, too--and just because I couldn't find anywhere to park for 4 years didn't diminish everything that was filthy-lovely about it. There will never be another view to replace the one that was seen from my balcony four stories above Sunset Boulevard, either.

In writing-related news, I was a little thrown to find out my grandmother has mistaken the title of my science fiction epic for Deliverance and been lauding it under this title accordingly to all my relatives. Its title is not, actually, Deliverance. Ahem.

In reading-related news, I'm this close to being done with Hand-Me-Down and when I'm done, probably won't be reading much of anything because I neglected to separate the books I wanted to start reading from the books I've already read when I packed. I'm very much enjoying Hand-Me-Down but have been a little surprised to find that the story is less about Anne getting together with Ian and more about Anne herself. Which is sweet, but which makes me realize that back cover descriptions aren't always telling the whole story. So now I kind of get it.

Anyway, I guess that's enough talking about me for now, or, er, I'm hungry and want to watch TV?

Until Nevada, then. :)

Yesterday I drove across the Potomac from D.C. for the last time as a local. It made me a little sad and more than a little appreciative of the view I've often taken for granted--the river glinting in the afternoon sun, such landmarks as the Watergate and the rooftops of Georgetown to one side, planes touching down at National Airport on the other, greenery abundant from all directions. Washington is a beautiful city, and one I used to criticize as having no soul. But that was before I knew it. So, in retrospect, I am truly sorry to leave it, and shall always be a little wistful to say it just wasn't the life for me. Or maybe just not the life I wanted to live forever at this very moment, the same as I felt when I drove away from Los Angeles for the last time as one of its own.

Right now I can't get enough of this "More, More, More" song by the Andrea True Connection. I keep playing it and disco-dancing all around my parents' house like some freak. I knew I should have bought that jumpsuit at Rampage the other day! Then I could have thrown on some cork sandals, feathered my hair and done up teal green shadow and coral gloss and really had a good time. I know, I'm weird. But in all honesty, I think this look could really work for my 2006 RDI photo. I'm debating whether to have that taken today or wait until it's called for. Seems like having it done today could be me getting a little ahead of myself and just wanting to have my picture taken, but then again, the last time my photo was called for I literally had to have it done that day. (By a photographer who obviously specialized in Senior Yearbook Portraits...)

Off to find something to eat and watch TV. And yes...I do lead a very exciting life.

Your Brain's Pattern

You have a dreamy mind, full of fancy and fantasy.You have the ability to stay forever entertained with your thoughts.People may say you're hard to read, but that's because you're so internally focused.But when you do share what you're thinking, people are impressed with your imagination.

What Pattern Is Your Brain?

You Are a Martini

There's no other way to say it: you're a total lush.You hold your liquor well, and you hold a lot of it!

What Mixed Drink Are You?

Look, look, it's my darling Val in a new movie!!! Isn't that exciting? I think it is!

Breakthrough Discovery: Hurricane Katrina Was MAN-MADE!!!

He (Michael Moore) tells the New York Daily News, "There is much to be said and done about the man-made annihilation of New Orleans, caused not by a hurricane but by the very specific decisions made by the Bush administration in the past four and a half years..."

I find something charming about this big, beautiful shoe. I think I might have to buy it. And maybe the one that goes with it.

It might help if I had a job.

But at least I know people are still buying Love Like That because they are writing negative responses to it on one of the more popular chick-lit discussion boards.

Shit. I just realized it's actually going out as one of the Red Dress Ink freebies right now.

Excuse me while I go throw a penny into a fountain.

Anyway, back to the negative responses to Love Like That. Hey, it happens. I'm well aware that one woman's trash is another woman's treasure. But would like to say...

It is written in glaringly obvious detail, right on the back cover, that Dalton Moss has it going on with two men.

So when readers gripe in offense to discover that the main character is (GASP!!!) cheating on her would-be main squeeze, all I really want to know is did they even read the back cover? I mean, isn't it basically outlined there that despite being engaged, Dalton's carrying on with a whole 'nother dude?

Meet Dalton's boyfriend, Roman: charming, intellectual, worldly; he lands in L.A. just long enough to slip a two-carat diamond on her finger before flying right off again.

Now meet Dalton's other boyfriend, Jeremy: perfect in his imperfection, surly in his attraction to her and can match her beer for beer; she doesn't want to love him, but can't help herself, despite Roman...

I guess it's kind of like when I ate that Mexican Pizza today. No disclaimer on the box, but I was still fully aware that its ingredients were fatty.

The difference being, I thought the Mexican Pizza was delicious!!!

According to my scale, I've gained 7 lbs. since Saturday. Which seems, you know, impossible. Especially when you consider that since Saturday, I've been visiting the gym with a dedication that surprises me. Especially when you consider that I haven't entered any eating contests in the past few days. To gain 7 lbs., doesn't that kind of mean I would have had to consume around 25,000 calories over the weekend? And to do that, wouldn't I have had to eat at least 10 large pizzas or something comparable? I didn't. I swear I didn't. At any rate (weight?) I don't think I'll be taking that scale to Las Vegas with me.

I'm currently reading Hand-Me-Down by Lee Nichols. I like it. It's cute. I'm thrilled to find that all the good word-of-mouth about this book is actually true.

Must get back to packing now. Or at least, looking at all my crap and thinking, "You know...I should really start packing that."

Mum's the Word

I likely won't be posting for a few days because I'm irritated, I'm disgusted, I actually support the President, I can't stand ignorance, I'm most definitely of a feisty take on anti-American sentiments both international and domestic and for this I'm afraid I might say way too much about the political fallout from Hurricane Katrina.

I'm as disappointed as the next person that we can scramble to aid other nations and let our own fall to neglect. I'm as horrified as all the other people out there to learn of the civil unrest that's currently raging in what is supposed to be a civilized American city. I'm as amazed as anybody that reporters can get right in there, but somehow relief operations have been waylaid.

But like the saying that Rome wasn't built in a day...well...you get my point.

I think.

(Not) Just a City

What is happening to New Orleans is unfathomable.

To it, I dedicate this precious song of my youth. It's called "Just a City" and to me, has always perfectly described (especially if you hear it vocalized to the music) one's inexplicable love of a place, for the reason that places, unlike people, are nearly always guaranteed to be there.

it's so near to me
it's so dear to me
i see it in my sleep
and i always know if i've nowhere to go
it's somewhere i could be
and i see you at night in the city lights
but it could change so easily

it's just a city
and on nights like this i feel small in this world
it's just a city
i am just a girl

it seems to me that once you stop walking
you don't want to know, you stop wanting to see
your eyes get used to the same old story
once you stop talking to strangers

it's just a city
and on nights like this i feel small in this world
it's just a city
i am just a girl

out of place, out of time
nothing to hold me, nothing mine
but i'm always told "there's no hurry don't go
there's nothing but time"
how do they know?

it's so near to me
it's so dear to me
i see it in my sleep
and i always know if i've nowhere to go
it's somewhere i could be

it's just a city
and on nights like this i feel small in this world
it's just a city
and i am just a girl