Random thoughts

• My coworker's dog eats better than I do. I guess that's what happens when you're on a salary.
• I'm beginning to make friends with the 7/11 clerk, cause their coffee is decent and it's only 99 cents.
• I will write some this weekend, hopefully 10 pages. I want to do ten pages.
  
• I am scared and terrified that I am not good enough to make it in hollywood for writing.
• I miss theater so much.
• I want to go to LA and register my scripts once I'm done with this one, I'm kinda looking forwards to it.
• So glad I got my paycheck. So glad. Even though, after budgeting everything out, I'll only be able to spend about 500$ of it for the rest of the month. That's not so fun. I guess it's back to saving for me.
  
• I have come to the conclusion that I don't want to do Web content writing for the rest of my life. I am grateful for this job, and I'm learning a lot, but I don't want to be stuck here.
  
• my coworker takes his dog to a freaking PAIN SPECIALIST!
• Twitter is fun, if only for the opportunity that I can see hollywood professionals insight into the business. Like television stars and writers. I love it. I've learned a lot about the business from Twitter
  
• However, the fact that UC president Mark Yudof liked the harry potter movie is rather not important.
• I love how long this website is growing. And they thought it wasn't important enough....
• In playwriting class we would sit together and write plays as a group. I miss that.
• This weekend Allen's taking me to an outlet mall. And to the beach. I really don't know why he's spoiling me so much, but I'm not complaining.
  
• Does it show that I really have no interest writing for the business program?
• I love when I'm bored at work and ALL OF THE SUDDEN I get three people IMing me. It makes me smile :)
• The Colorado/Wyoming vacation is next week. I'm very enthused. Very.
• Talking to people online makes me work harder on the websites. I'm not sure why
• I think I'm going through my mid-year crisis about writing. Yup. It's started. I'm beginning to do the "why should I think I'm any better than the ten million other writers out there?" and the "why didn't I start screenwriting and television writing sooner?" and the "but there's so many people who are better than I am just in COLLEGE what is it going to be like in the real world?" Crap.

Being female is not a bad thing.

And I'm tired of cultural stereotypes that make it so.

I am tired of people using "woman" as a derogatory term.

I'm am tired of certain negative traits being labeled as "feminine" or "womanly".

• Being foolish does not make you a woman.
  
• Being romantic does not make you a woman.
• Being sentimental does not make you a woman.

I am tired of hearing people say "that's cause he has a vagina" as an explanation for a foolish or sentimental action. There is nothing wrong with having a vagina, it shouldn't be a curse word or an insult.

Similar to that, there's nothing wrong with having Ovaries.

Some notes on website construction

• It does not benifit you to make things hard to find. When people go to a website, they have things they want to find out. Putting things where they should not be is not gonna help you.
• Making the navigation confusing/disappearing only pisses off the user. Deal with it and hire a real programmer.
  
• Putting a ton of flash in there does not make it perfect. It makes it flashy. People want information, not flash.
• note to all people: having a dark blue background with black text is not good. I get that dark blue is a fashionable background, but please. Make it readable. The last thing you want is a lawsuit from the ADA people.
• Putting apply now buttons over pictures is pointless and looks cluttered.
• Think before you color code. Mustard yellow is not your friend.
• We get you spent a lot of time on your spiffy powerpoint presentation. However, it's bad as a website. Websites do not need scrolling text or sound effects or gigantic lettering or incomplete sentences in bullet points.
  
• putting things into italics does not make it more important. Putting things into italics makes people squint and get frustrated.
• Do not put pictures in for the sake of pictures. And DON'T use clip art, just cause it's available.
• Do not put all your information in pdf files. They suck. Put it in html pages, people will thank you. You can include them as an option for pdf files, but do NOT do them exclusively.
• Don't be pretentious.
  
• ...And apparently, don't piss off ATT.
  

Lovely

I'm out writing, and now I can't concentrate on writing. Allen's plane is stuck in New York. BECAUSE OF FREAKING TORNADOS!

So not only am I maybe not going to be able to see him tomorrow, it's cause of A FREAKING STORM!

I hate storms. So So So much.

Stolen from a myspace bulletin.

Are your palms sweaty, is your heart racing, And your voice caught within your chest?
It isn't Love, it's Like.

You can't keep your eyes or hands off of them, am I right?
It isn't Love, it's Lust.

Are you proud, and eager to show them off?
It isn't Love, it's Luck.

Do you want them because you know they're there?
It isn't Love, it's Loneliness.

Are you there because it's what everyone wants?
It isn't Love, it's Loyalty.

Do you stay for their confessions of Love, because you don't want to hurt them?
It isn't Love, it's Pity.

Are you there because they kissed you, or held your hand?
It isn't Love, it's being Unconfident.

Do you belong to them because their sight makes your heart skip a beat?
It isn't Love, it's Infatuation.

Do you pardon their faults because you care about them?
It isn't Love, it's Friendship.

Do you tell them every day they are the only one you think of?
It isn't Love, it's a Lie.

Are you willing to give all of your favorite things for their sake?
It isn't Love, it's Charity.

Does your heart ache and break when they're sad?
Then it's Love.

Are you attracted to others, but stay with them faithfully without regret?
Then it's Love.

Do you accept their faults because they're a part of who they are?
Then it's Love.

Do you cry for their pain, even when they're strong?
Then it's Love.

Do their eyes see your true heart, and touch your soul so deeply it hurts?
Then it's Love.

But do you stay because a blinding, incomprehensibl​e mix of pain and relation pulls you close and holds you?
Then it's Love.

Would you give them your heart, your life, your death?
Then it's Love.

Now, if Love is painful, and tortures us so, why do we Love?
Why is it all we search for in life? This pain, this agony?
Why is it all we long for? This torture, this powerful death of self?
Why? Because it's...Love

Author: Unknown

Of course

I'm at work, so naturally I have ideas for screenplays. It just works like that.

Anyways, new idea doesn't have a plot yet, just images that'd be funny to do. It'd be called "Summer Jobs" (naturally. Write what you know!)

There'd be three people, two with jobs one without. I don't know the genders yet. There would definitely be jokes about offices, cause that's just too funny. And jokes about folding clothes. Maybe a tour guide joke thrown in there.

Speaking of office jokes: today I had to wear 4 inch heels on the motorcycle, cause a big wig was coming in. And when i walked in the office, I got handed a name tag that just read "Lyn Stephenson: student"

That was hilarious.

How I'm doing

How I'm doing...not too good. And I feel pathetic for it. All because my boyfriend's on vacation? I mean, come on. That's pretty sad. I'm a self-actualized, modern, semi-feminist woman. And I feel really almost homesick for my boyfriend. That goes against most things that I hold core to my identity.

But I do. I'll be exhausted during the day, with no energy, just looking forward to going to sleep each day, but when my head hits the pillow each night, I can't fall asleep. At all.

I had a sleep induced headache for most of yesterday. Like I just needed to sleep for around twenty hours to get rid of it. I loved hanging out with the peer mentors, but my head was bugging me the entire time.

Then, when I finally got to my bed, it took me until about 2 am to get to sleep. And then it was all restless and stuff. my back will start hurting, or my neck gets a crick, or I can't find a comfortable position. And, usually, to get to sleep I start plotting out storylines. But I couldn't. I keep on thinking about Allen.

And I feel really teenagerish about it. It's bordering on creepy.

And I want it to stop! I want to sleep!

I should get back to work now.

something I'm rediculously excited about

So I'm going to Jessi and Cramer's wedding in August. Not only is it really epic cause I get to fly (which is always fun for me) but it's also...

• a vacation from work.
• a chance to see Caroline! And hang out with her! I'm so excited!
• a chance to Wear a pretty dress. I love that.
• a chance to See Cramer, who's pretty much the type of person I want to turn into. He's utterly smart and clever in his writing...and successful.
  
• a chance to See Jessi, who, besides being utterly cool and awesome, is one of the most beautiful people I know.
• a chance to spend time with Aaron
• A chance to see Wyoming and Colorado. I've never been there.
  

Goals

I always set long term goals, then don't achieve them cause they're too far reaching.

So, my goals for this weekend:

• Get to page 35. Have them start the journey in that time. DO IT!
• Revise the first 17 pages of "The Masterpiece." Or, if I can't revise them, at least look at them so they're in my mind.
• Outline my horror short story/possibly screenplay
  
• Go to my social events. The Peer Mentor hang out night, Aaron's comedy show (Laughing Stock Development) and play video games with Evan (and possibly swim)
  
• And...to do this...I'm not going to be on facebook this weekend. I'll check if someone sends me something, and I'll probably go on to check where exactly the social events are, but no time spent just scrolling. Starting Now.

Hookay...this will be good.

And....Allen is gone

I got a text from him at 6:07 this morning, saying: "In the bus omw to the airport." His flight left at 8am.

I'm going to miss him, not going to lie. It's going to be really hard without someone I can just go to and talk to about work, or complain about Nick (though it's his last day, thank goodness), or just to talk and talk for hours on end. I'm gonna be lonely these next two weeks.

a play for the writing challenge.

It's hard to format with plays on this thing.

****

SCENE - IN A MUSIC LAB

JAYSON (23) leans over a worn guitar. He admires it, runs a cloth over it. After a moment, he begins to pluck out a melody. It lasts for a few moments. He is soft spoken and shy.

BANG! The door to the music lab slams open, and in pops ELISA (22), holding another bright shiny guitar.

ELISA

Hello?

JAYSON

Oh, hello Elisa.

ELISA

Hi.

An awkward pause. JAYSON beckons her in.

JAYSON

I didn’t know you played he guitar.

ELISA

I’ve wanted to learn.

ELISA sits next to him on the bench. JAYSON scoots over.

JAYSON

Have you learned any chords?

ELISA

Only one.

It takes a few tries, she finally gets one. Jayson cringes.

JAYSON

You need to tune that up a bit.

ELISA

Can you show me?

JAYSON takes the guitar, starts tuning it by ear.

ELISA

You know, it’s somewhat strange how you’re always in here by yourself.

JAYSON

(soft)

I like the guitar.

ELISA

Yeah, we know. You just always used to hang out in the apartment, always be cooking, always watching that old T.V. Show.

JAYSON

Dragnet?

ELISA

Yeah.

JAYSON

I finished the series again.

ELISA

But we wish to see you again.

JAYSON shrugs.

JAYSON

I like it here. It’s quiet.

ELISA

But we miss you.

JAYSON

I’m sure you do.

ELISA

No, Jayson, all of us do.

JAYSON

I doubt that.

JAYSON hands her the guitar back.

JAYSON

It’s tuned.

ELISA

Thanks.

JAYSON picks up his guitar again and picks out a tune.

ELISA

How do you do that?

JAYSON

It’s just a E minor Chord with a B diminished minor. Here. Put your hands like this.

JAYSON covers her hands on her guitar, presses her fingers down.

JAYSON

Now pluck the third and fifth strings. Then switch.

He moves her fingers again. They make music.

ELISA

It sounds so pretty.

JAYSON

It’s just something I like.

ELISA

Why don’t you play it in the apartment.

JAYSON

I...could.

ELISA

Wonderful!

ELISA stands up, almost dropping her guitar. JAYSON catches it.

ELISA

We’ll go right back and you can play it for Kevin and Nick and Andy!

JAYSON

I...don’t know.

ELISA

Come on, we’ve missed you!

JAYSON

I’m sure you have.

ELISA

No, everyone’s missed you. Kevin and Nick and...

JAYSON

(vicious)

And Andy?

ELISA

Yeah. And Andy.

JAYSON

You really think he “misses” me?

ELISA

Well, I think so.

JAYSON strums a harsh chord.

JAYSON

You really think that he actually pauses to think that hard about me.

ELISA

(awkward)

Jayson, we all miss you.

JAYSON

I’m sure they miss the background noise.

ELISA

No, we miss you. We miss talking to you, seeing you around, hanging out, playing video games -

JAYSON

Andy doesn’t.

ELISA

I think Andy does.

JAYSON

I think Andy just lays around with his new boyfriend all day. Or wait, is he dating a girl this time?

ELISA

Jayson....

JAYSON

It’s hard to keep track.

ELISA

That’s unfair.

JAYSON

So is he dating around so much. You’re holding the guitar wrong.

He corrects her grip.

ELISA

Jayson...

JAYSON

What.

ELISA

Jayson, he was never dating you.

JAYSON

I know that.

ELISA

I know...I know you had a...a... “thing” for him, but you can’t expect him to just be there.

JAYSON

And he can’t expect me to just be there whenever he feels like it.

ELISA

He’s not trying to keep you away.

JAYSON

He’s doing a good job.

Quiet. Jayson strums along on the guitar, frowning.

ELISA

I miss you.

JAYSON

I miss you too.

ELISA

You could always hang out with me and Kevin instead. We’d like to see you.

JAYSON

I’m usually kept here.

Well, things have a way of settling themselves, I guess

So, you know how about 3 hours ago I posted a blog about the car accident and had to save up for the 500$ insurance thing?

After pestering the girl for a few days for her insurance information, she told me through a text that they're not going through insurance.

Which means I might not have to pay a thing.

I'm so deliriously happy.

Still going to save money, but not as hard.

I HAVE to cut back on spending.

Or else I won't make rent next month.

So, as you may or may not know, I got in a minor car accident that's looking like it will cost me around 500$.

I have 300$ of rent each month.

I have to pay for a hotel room for Cramer's wedding. That'll be upwards of 100$, possibly 150$.

I have enough in the bank for that...but not much more.

So I can't spend on anything that's not necessary until I get my paycheck on August 1st. That should be doable, yes? It's only 18 days.

So here's what I can't spend money on:

• Lunches at work. It's back to packing lunch for me.
• starbucks. If I need caffeine at work, it's 99 cent coffee from 711 for me, and even then only once a week.
• Snacks at work. I can bring them, I don't need to go down to Rubios for them.
  
• I already bought groceries for this week, I'm going to stretch them until august 1st. I should have enough between the frozen dinners and the sandwich meat and the hamburgers. I'll just have to work out some more.
  
• No buying anything for myself until then. No buying clothes, music, books, wine, drinks, accessories, nothing. Not even if it's on sale or at a thrift store.
  
• No eating out, unless absolutely dictated by social stuff. And even then, only buy the cheapest thing.
• Buy cheap cheap cheap gas. Since I'm coming home on Wednesday, ask parents for help, cause I visited them. Drive as least as possible.
  
• Don't let friends free-load. Yes, I do have a job. This month, however, I can't really spot you for everything. This includes food.
  

You know you work in a weird work place when....

You know you work in a weird work place when....

....the sole warning you get that your boss is in a foul mood is there's a picture of a squirrel flipping people off hanging up on his wall.

....a secretary gets upset and decides to take her houseplant outside for sunshine and fresh air, and she stays out there.

....The press secretaries congregate around the printer to badmouth UCSD

....a homeless woman walks in and asks to use the computers, then cusses at the secretaries who say no.

....you have a programmer who doesn't like Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, or Monty Python.

writing moments

Just some stuff I want to remember for writing:

****

I just had a homeless lady ask me to help feed her family...but she was walking out of starbucks with a full frappachino.

****

"I don't ask for work cause that then bogs him down in trying to find stuff for me to do, so it wastes company time.

*****

HOLY CRAP THIS MAKES ME ANGRY!!!!

http://www.mercedsunstar.com/167/story/942002.html

yay

I just had the marketing director ask me to stop sneezing too loudly.

Amazing.

First week of writing challenges.

So here's a semi-freewrite. It doesn't make much sense.

******

I got my first knife when I was thirteen. Found her in daddy’s drawer, picked it up and it immediately fit in my hand, cool and small and wickedly sharp. I call her Maude, like Mod, cause she’s all metal with a curved blade with all designs. The internet says she’s Damascus steel which is why it’s so sharp to make Damascus steel they take steel and fold it hammer it and heat it then fold it and fold it until the different pieces of metal are all intertwined and swirly in the blade and it’s like ten times stronger than just regular steel but Maude isn’t made for cutting people. Maude is made for opening things like boxes and cutting rope and strings and ties and plastics, the guy at the flea market said Maude’s for U-til-I-ty. so I bought Hissatsu.

Hissatsu is more for cutting people, he said, he’s long and thin and straight and designed to go between ribs without any problem which is confusing cause he doesn’t cut boxes or paper or plastic or rope very well. He’s not so sharp on the edge, I tested, and he’s not good for cutting robe but Hissatsu is really heavy, so heavy I can rest him in the palm of my hand and if I squeeze my eyes shut enough he’s the same weight as daddy’s baseball that we used to throw to each other on bright sunny days with sunscreen on our noses.

But if I wanted to I could hurt someone pretty bad without actually having to take Hissatsu’s blade out cause he’s so heavy and I could just punch. But if I did take him out I can slash with him and take the hair off your arm or just thrust him into someone’s gut and he’ll go right in as if you were made of warm butter.

Like the small little squirrel that had been hit by a truck and was laying all shaky and bloody and quivering and grimy with two or three broken legs. Me and my dad were walking to the store and he kneeled down and prodded it with the toe of his boots and it kept twitching and twitching and twitching and it’s little paws stretched and stretched and stretched and wouldn’t stop and Dad looked at me and said “pull out your little Hissatsu folder I’m gonna show you something” and he held his big old soft hand out and I pulled it out of my pocket and put it in the hand. He said “No” and took my hand in his and his was so much bigger and put the Hissatsu right in my palm and closed my fingers around it “sometimes you have to show mercy.” And he grabbed my hand and thrust the edge of Hissatsu into the little squirrel and the paws stretched with its little claws and the dirt stuck under them and it was as if it wasn’t there.

Hissatsu hit the dirt, crunched, I jerked back, dad caught me and the squirrel slipped off Hissatsu with a squelch and glopped into the dirt, making mud.