So I got most of my work done within the first half hour. Good. I felt decent about that.
Then I attacked the interview of bad grammar. And promptly got mired in the unwritableness of it. This person tried so hard to make all of his statements ripe for marketing, and it turned into just impossible to use for marketing. Lovely.
So I went to write outside, which usually breaks the mindlessness.
And I got a call from my mother. I've been called into Jury Duty. The first week of school. In freaking COMPTON.
I try to write some of my own stuff to calm myself down, I can't get more than a sentence out. Which does nothing to make me feel better. In fact, it only fuels into my doubts that I just might not be good enough. Cause I certainly feel puny.
****
And now someone in the office is playing bagpipe music. FML.
Monday, August 31, 2009
The days since Thursday
So I didn't go into work, for starters. We left for the campsite at around...2, after a few false starts and a long break at Subway.
Driving up there it was 107. Which was just plain depressing. Once we turned up the mountain, though, the temperature just started to drop. Evan was fast asleep, so Liz and I talked about extreme trucking. I kid you not. Apparently there's a TV show. The horror story from that one was the guy who had to truck over ice on the last trip of the season with a load that was liquid, which meant it moved around a lot, at 10 mph. Freaky. It gave me nightmares.
The camp site was already there for us, secluded, though we drove by a TON of motor homes and such. I mean, this place was worse than the small city up at Lake Hemet!
We made a trip down to the general store, played a ton of uno (I won twice, luckily, then on the ultra round Jad completely trounced us) and found a crap load of beads at the campsite. I mean, a CRAP LOAD. Like a craft fair had an battle to the death or something. It was intense. And they were fun to shoot from Evan's semi-professional sling shot. Especially at squirrels. Remember the fact that we were pissing off the squirrells.
Come nightfall, we had to light the propane lantern. It FWOMPED. And burned the hair off of knuckles. And Bree and Liz obsessively hunted down bugs. You learn a lot about the bugs around you when you camp with entemologists.
Friday:
Evan woke up with a swollen toe, there was a fire about 10 miles away, and the air was super smoky. As in I'm having troubles breathing type of smoky. The people at the general store assured me that the fire would be coming nowhere near where we were, but that the smoke would be bad. And I only had my contacts. It made most of Friday a day where it hurt to blink and it hurt to breath. Lovely. That kinda limited our activities for most of the day.
However, Friday was not all bad. Catan was played, then the best surprise of all: Allen was able to come! In a convoluted series of events, Evan had to run down home to help his mom with something, so Craig took him down, and since Allen had then finished his final, he was able to hitch a ride up. And he brought his football, and Evan grabbed his rubber knives and his sword with the back holster. Remember the fact that we had the sword.
We had to wait until nightfall to do any cooking, for the campsite was full of bees and yellow jackets during the day. So we had to hold the same propane lantern up, and someone had to stand guard with the bug zapper. The bug zapper that basically barbequed any bugs that flew into it...including spiders. That was empowering.
So we played more uno and watched more stars and heard some more stuff move about the campsite.
Saturday:
Saturday was pancake day. Which meant we actually had to cook while the sun was out. Bad, bad luck. Yellow Jackets. Especially the fact that the stove wasn't working correctly and we only had small pans. So it took a full two hours to cook the pancakes, with alternating shifts of Evan and Jad cooking. We also made WAY TOO MANY pancakes in way too big of a bowl. So we put the batter bowl on a faraway table, full of water, with the spatula in it, the lid on top to keep out the yellow jackets. Remember this.
Allen and Evan were up the earliest, shooting squirrels with beads and stuff. Pissing them off. Remember this.
The guys decided to knife fight, which was epic and, in my opinion, good for the guys. It's always good for guys to be guys, and it seems that they had a blast. And by them having a blast, they talked about it for the rest of the day.
I also discovered the sports setting for my camera, which means I got some epic shots. SO EPIC.
Then we went swimming. We basically commandeered the deep side of the pool from all the old people with their noodles and swimming aids, and did a short diving competition. which rocked. And then they did synchronized diving, which means I got some AMAZING shots. Especially with this sports setting.
The old people at this place were mean! The people in front of me in line to get a snack were all pissy that there wasn't any ice cream, and they completely ratted out the poor old lady who was working the snack shack. I mean, please. It wasn't her fault.
And then my shoe exploded. On the way from the pool to our campsite. So I had to ride on Evan's shoulders and piggy-backed from Allen the entire half mile walk back. Over rough terrain. Take a -2 for speed and being encumbered.
We came back, and the lid was off of the batter bowl, and the spatula was gone. Like, gone gone. We couldn't find it at all. We chalked it up to stupid kids or ambitious squirrells. We had been pissing off the squirrels.
That night, after the nastiest mac and cheese and the most depressing game of Catan at the far table, we came back and our cloth cooler was knocked over. Oh well, someone must've bumped it. So to bed we go.
At one AM, I hear from one of the three tents: "It's trying to get inside of my tent!" in a high, panicked voice. Then a "what the hell!!" and "where is it, where is it??"
So I'm wide awake.
Then "oh my gosh, it's on the table! What the hell is that? It's huge!"
I spring up, look outside the window, and there is a gigantic raccoon. And by gigantic I mean about three times as big and as fat as the fattest cat you've ever seen.
Pretty much everyone clatters out of the tents. Except Evan. Allen is wide awake and totally pumped up on adrenaline, and Craig has the intense flashlight up. We advance on it, I get literally five feet away...
...and watch it just unzip our cloth cooler, take out some graham crackers, and lumber away. It had no fear of us wanting to scare it away. I was standing three to five feet away, taking pictures, and it just chomped down on our graham crackers.
"Where's the sword?" Allen said, turning towards Evan's tent. But no, he was fast asleep. As in dead asleep. We had been yelling and laughing and waving our hands, and he was asleep.
Craig suggested we get the sling shot. But no, that was in Evan's tent as well.
After about an hour of us following it out and waving our hands to scare it away, it finally lumbered off past the ravine. And leaving all the guys totally pumping with adrenaline. Allen totally got into the protective guy mode, not even wanting to let me out of his sight. I asked him if he was gonna have nightmares from it, from the idea of something trying to get into the tents to get me, and he pretty much said yeah.
When heading back to the tents, we found the slingshot just on one of the chairs. Just chilling there. Out the entire time. Of course.
It took a while before people got to sleep again.
Sunday:
The guys were up and at it much earlier than the rest again, of course. And Allen had a nightmare about me getting kidnapped, of course.
Sunday was mostly full of trying to get the other tents up so we could pack up the stuff and head home, for Allen and Evan were a bit tired of the camping trip, plus Allen had something to do. We left at about 11:45, had a quick stop at a drive through starbucks, and was home.
On Sunday night I went to go see Twelfth Night at the park. It was...okay. Most of the people were obviously acting. Malvolio and Tobias were obviously in the characters, and they made the show. And yes, S. was there. Oh well. She glared at me from back stage a bit. It obviously disturbed me a ton.
I talked to Robin Russin, he greeted me by asking if I was a theater major yet. I talked with Paul, he asked me to audition for the next play. The auditions are Wednesday. Not sure if I'm gonna go.
Driving up there it was 107. Which was just plain depressing. Once we turned up the mountain, though, the temperature just started to drop. Evan was fast asleep, so Liz and I talked about extreme trucking. I kid you not. Apparently there's a TV show. The horror story from that one was the guy who had to truck over ice on the last trip of the season with a load that was liquid, which meant it moved around a lot, at 10 mph. Freaky. It gave me nightmares.
The camp site was already there for us, secluded, though we drove by a TON of motor homes and such. I mean, this place was worse than the small city up at Lake Hemet!
We made a trip down to the general store, played a ton of uno (I won twice, luckily, then on the ultra round Jad completely trounced us) and found a crap load of beads at the campsite. I mean, a CRAP LOAD. Like a craft fair had an battle to the death or something. It was intense. And they were fun to shoot from Evan's semi-professional sling shot. Especially at squirrels. Remember the fact that we were pissing off the squirrells.
Come nightfall, we had to light the propane lantern. It FWOMPED. And burned the hair off of knuckles. And Bree and Liz obsessively hunted down bugs. You learn a lot about the bugs around you when you camp with entemologists.
Friday:
Evan woke up with a swollen toe, there was a fire about 10 miles away, and the air was super smoky. As in I'm having troubles breathing type of smoky. The people at the general store assured me that the fire would be coming nowhere near where we were, but that the smoke would be bad. And I only had my contacts. It made most of Friday a day where it hurt to blink and it hurt to breath. Lovely. That kinda limited our activities for most of the day.
However, Friday was not all bad. Catan was played, then the best surprise of all: Allen was able to come! In a convoluted series of events, Evan had to run down home to help his mom with something, so Craig took him down, and since Allen had then finished his final, he was able to hitch a ride up. And he brought his football, and Evan grabbed his rubber knives and his sword with the back holster. Remember the fact that we had the sword.
We had to wait until nightfall to do any cooking, for the campsite was full of bees and yellow jackets during the day. So we had to hold the same propane lantern up, and someone had to stand guard with the bug zapper. The bug zapper that basically barbequed any bugs that flew into it...including spiders. That was empowering.
So we played more uno and watched more stars and heard some more stuff move about the campsite.
Saturday:
Saturday was pancake day. Which meant we actually had to cook while the sun was out. Bad, bad luck. Yellow Jackets. Especially the fact that the stove wasn't working correctly and we only had small pans. So it took a full two hours to cook the pancakes, with alternating shifts of Evan and Jad cooking. We also made WAY TOO MANY pancakes in way too big of a bowl. So we put the batter bowl on a faraway table, full of water, with the spatula in it, the lid on top to keep out the yellow jackets. Remember this.
Allen and Evan were up the earliest, shooting squirrels with beads and stuff. Pissing them off. Remember this.
The guys decided to knife fight, which was epic and, in my opinion, good for the guys. It's always good for guys to be guys, and it seems that they had a blast. And by them having a blast, they talked about it for the rest of the day.
I also discovered the sports setting for my camera, which means I got some epic shots. SO EPIC.
Then we went swimming. We basically commandeered the deep side of the pool from all the old people with their noodles and swimming aids, and did a short diving competition. which rocked. And then they did synchronized diving, which means I got some AMAZING shots. Especially with this sports setting.
The old people at this place were mean! The people in front of me in line to get a snack were all pissy that there wasn't any ice cream, and they completely ratted out the poor old lady who was working the snack shack. I mean, please. It wasn't her fault.
And then my shoe exploded. On the way from the pool to our campsite. So I had to ride on Evan's shoulders and piggy-backed from Allen the entire half mile walk back. Over rough terrain. Take a -2 for speed and being encumbered.
We came back, and the lid was off of the batter bowl, and the spatula was gone. Like, gone gone. We couldn't find it at all. We chalked it up to stupid kids or ambitious squirrells. We had been pissing off the squirrels.
That night, after the nastiest mac and cheese and the most depressing game of Catan at the far table, we came back and our cloth cooler was knocked over. Oh well, someone must've bumped it. So to bed we go.
At one AM, I hear from one of the three tents: "It's trying to get inside of my tent!" in a high, panicked voice. Then a "what the hell!!" and "where is it, where is it??"
So I'm wide awake.
Then "oh my gosh, it's on the table! What the hell is that? It's huge!"
I spring up, look outside the window, and there is a gigantic raccoon. And by gigantic I mean about three times as big and as fat as the fattest cat you've ever seen.
Pretty much everyone clatters out of the tents. Except Evan. Allen is wide awake and totally pumped up on adrenaline, and Craig has the intense flashlight up. We advance on it, I get literally five feet away...
...and watch it just unzip our cloth cooler, take out some graham crackers, and lumber away. It had no fear of us wanting to scare it away. I was standing three to five feet away, taking pictures, and it just chomped down on our graham crackers.
"Where's the sword?" Allen said, turning towards Evan's tent. But no, he was fast asleep. As in dead asleep. We had been yelling and laughing and waving our hands, and he was asleep.
Craig suggested we get the sling shot. But no, that was in Evan's tent as well.
After about an hour of us following it out and waving our hands to scare it away, it finally lumbered off past the ravine. And leaving all the guys totally pumping with adrenaline. Allen totally got into the protective guy mode, not even wanting to let me out of his sight. I asked him if he was gonna have nightmares from it, from the idea of something trying to get into the tents to get me, and he pretty much said yeah.
When heading back to the tents, we found the slingshot just on one of the chairs. Just chilling there. Out the entire time. Of course.
It took a while before people got to sleep again.
Sunday:
The guys were up and at it much earlier than the rest again, of course. And Allen had a nightmare about me getting kidnapped, of course.
Sunday was mostly full of trying to get the other tents up so we could pack up the stuff and head home, for Allen and Evan were a bit tired of the camping trip, plus Allen had something to do. We left at about 11:45, had a quick stop at a drive through starbucks, and was home.
On Sunday night I went to go see Twelfth Night at the park. It was...okay. Most of the people were obviously acting. Malvolio and Tobias were obviously in the characters, and they made the show. And yes, S. was there. Oh well. She glared at me from back stage a bit. It obviously disturbed me a ton.
I talked to Robin Russin, he greeted me by asking if I was a theater major yet. I talked with Paul, he asked me to audition for the next play. The auditions are Wednesday. Not sure if I'm gonna go.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Dreams and other stuff
DREAM:
So I was in a school for evil geniuses. Yet, for some reason, I was in all the remedial classes. Like, basic addition, basic naming of countries, basic history, ect. So I skipped class.
Oh, also, I wasn't an evil genius. I was actually quite good. And I could fly.
Which caused quite a stir. I mean, an evil genius actually using the powers for good? That's not generally heard of. I would fly around the countryside, freeing people and telling them how bad off they were because of the evil geniuses. But no one really suspected me, cause they wrote me off as a loser and flunker.
Except for one guy, my desk mate. He started tracking the times that I was missing class, and corresponded them with the times people were getting freed.
One time he tracked me coming back from the freeing people thing and met me at the staircase. He handed me a dictionary, and in it was only one definition, repeated over and over again. "TRAITOR"
The problem was no one believed him, either.
****
OTHER STUFF:
I just got the syllabus for my senior thesis class. THAT intimidates me. To no end. Even though it's only 60 pages, that's not too bad. I mean, 60 pages in three weeks? That's only...20 pages a week. Well, that's kinda intense, but it's not like I'm going to have a shortage of free time, right?
Oh wait.
I'm taking three other classes. And working. And teaching a class. All which count for something and can't be dropped. THIS is wonderful. At least one other will include a significant amount of writing. I'm gonna have to organize it so it's not due at the same time as the television script. ACTUALLY, what I should do is write a rough rough draft before school starts so I can at least not stress about it, then go up for workshop the first chance I get. Yeah. That might work. Though that's a bitch of a thing to do before school starts. Especially when I'm working on finishing my screenplay before that time, too. And writing all my stuff for Graduate School Applications.
So I was in a school for evil geniuses. Yet, for some reason, I was in all the remedial classes. Like, basic addition, basic naming of countries, basic history, ect. So I skipped class.
Oh, also, I wasn't an evil genius. I was actually quite good. And I could fly.
Which caused quite a stir. I mean, an evil genius actually using the powers for good? That's not generally heard of. I would fly around the countryside, freeing people and telling them how bad off they were because of the evil geniuses. But no one really suspected me, cause they wrote me off as a loser and flunker.
Except for one guy, my desk mate. He started tracking the times that I was missing class, and corresponded them with the times people were getting freed.
One time he tracked me coming back from the freeing people thing and met me at the staircase. He handed me a dictionary, and in it was only one definition, repeated over and over again. "TRAITOR"
The problem was no one believed him, either.
****
OTHER STUFF:
I just got the syllabus for my senior thesis class. THAT intimidates me. To no end. Even though it's only 60 pages, that's not too bad. I mean, 60 pages in three weeks? That's only...20 pages a week. Well, that's kinda intense, but it's not like I'm going to have a shortage of free time, right?
Oh wait.
I'm taking three other classes. And working. And teaching a class. All which count for something and can't be dropped. THIS is wonderful. At least one other will include a significant amount of writing. I'm gonna have to organize it so it's not due at the same time as the television script. ACTUALLY, what I should do is write a rough rough draft before school starts so I can at least not stress about it, then go up for workshop the first chance I get. Yeah. That might work. Though that's a bitch of a thing to do before school starts. Especially when I'm working on finishing my screenplay before that time, too. And writing all my stuff for Graduate School Applications.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Goals for this week/weekend.
so, I want to be at or close to the 75 point by the time I leave for camping this week. So to do that, I want to write around 4 to 5 pages each day. I've already written three and a half today.
so to do that, I will abstain from facebook. And web comics. and Cracked.com. And Oodee. Well, at least when I'm on my laptop. When I'm on another computer (and therefore unable to work on it) I'm perfectly fine with checking those things. So work is still in the clear.
For this weekend I want to start reworking the Masterpiece. Which means printing it out and trying to perfect the first half. Cause it's currently my best thing for grad school applications. And the first act is decent.
(EDIT! For those of you who do not know, The Masterpiece is a title of something. It's not really a masterpiece. It's actually a bit sucky. In this current draft.)
so to do that, I will abstain from facebook. And web comics. and Cracked.com. And Oodee. Well, at least when I'm on my laptop. When I'm on another computer (and therefore unable to work on it) I'm perfectly fine with checking those things. So work is still in the clear.
For this weekend I want to start reworking the Masterpiece. Which means printing it out and trying to perfect the first half. Cause it's currently my best thing for grad school applications. And the first act is decent.
(EDIT! For those of you who do not know, The Masterpiece is a title of something. It's not really a masterpiece. It's actually a bit sucky. In this current draft.)
Thursday, August 20, 2009
My coworkers
This week has been full of performance reviews. Everyone's been having to go into the boss's office for a good hour and get "evaluated".
I'm just lucky I'm a student and that doesn't count for me.
Anyways, one of the marketing people went in there, came out, and whispered-screamed "I HATE THIS PLACE!"
I'm just lucky I'm a student and that doesn't count for me.
Anyways, one of the marketing people went in there, came out, and whispered-screamed "I HATE THIS PLACE!"
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Scared
There are some huge changes coming ahead in my life, and they frighten me. Things that I have been expressly forbidden from telling anyone. Which makes it seem even worse. the things themselves are just plain confusing, but the fact that it has to be secret and has to be under wraps just...scares me.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Demon dreams
So, I had a fairly horrible dream last night. I'm gonna try to be creative with it. So bear with me. If it sounds weird, it's cause the dream was weird.
It was such a stereotypical horror nightmare.
*****
It started with small things. A cup moving from one side of my desk to the other. A wisp of cool air across my neck. The feeling that someone was barely, just barely touching the top of my neck. I'd close my eyes, and my eyelashes would flutter.
I sat down next to Allen, strangely enough at my work desk. Apparently he got hired at strategic communications as well.
"I think it happened again," he said.
"What?" I reached for my water bottle, missed it. He pointed, it rested in the back of my desk, near my target and business cards.
"oh well." I grabbed it and thought nothing more.
****
The next day my band director died. A freak accident. They found his heart in the other room. It was still trying to beat.
****
Someone was following me. Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed around the hallway. I was at the house, but everything elongated. All the dust and dirt and kitty litter on the floor kept on rattling, disappearing, being sucked into the void of someone following me. I couldn't reach the end of the hallway, as if it kept on stretching and stretching and -
-And a heavy hand slammed on my shoulder. I turned, saw a glimpse of a human form, before it all crumpled into literal dust. I was left with a large mark of ash all over my shirt.
****
Everything in the kitchen was floating two feet about the counter. Knives hummed in mid air, a pan of half-scrambled eggs floated a few inches away from the actual frying pan.
****
My parents were found dead. Clawed through. I opened my eyes to see the demon hunched over me.
He reaches a twisted hand out to me, slashing. I screamed, and he disappeared, leaving bloody gashes across my face.
****
The army tried to take him down. They're sat over a sand pit, I watched from the bleachers. Allen had his arm around me.
The sand started to swirl, disappearing, consolidating into a single human feature. I craned my neck, trying to see over, into the pit, it vanished.
An Army Private throws a handful of concrete dust into the sand pit. The shape was briefly illuminated by the falling dust.
A line of blood slowly appeared across the Private's chest. He stared in horror, it grew, ripped him apart.
Allen covered my eyes from the rest.
****
Allen and I were sitting on the couch in the house. I was crying into his shoulder (the tears stung my injured face), he was looking around.
A pot dropped in the kitchen. I jumped up, staring at it.
The dust on the fridge and under the stove rattled out, forming the demon. He reached for me.
I ran to it, hysterical, wanting to stab it or punch it or just hurt it, and Allen grabs me, holding me back.
"No! It'll kill you!" He yelled, I kicked up, still trying to get to the demon.
****
and then I woke up. I had to turn the lights on in my room to make sure that all my stuff wasn't floating. I couldn't get back to sleep for a few hours.
It was such a stereotypical horror nightmare.
*****
It started with small things. A cup moving from one side of my desk to the other. A wisp of cool air across my neck. The feeling that someone was barely, just barely touching the top of my neck. I'd close my eyes, and my eyelashes would flutter.
I sat down next to Allen, strangely enough at my work desk. Apparently he got hired at strategic communications as well.
"I think it happened again," he said.
"What?" I reached for my water bottle, missed it. He pointed, it rested in the back of my desk, near my target and business cards.
"oh well." I grabbed it and thought nothing more.
****
The next day my band director died. A freak accident. They found his heart in the other room. It was still trying to beat.
****
Someone was following me. Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed around the hallway. I was at the house, but everything elongated. All the dust and dirt and kitty litter on the floor kept on rattling, disappearing, being sucked into the void of someone following me. I couldn't reach the end of the hallway, as if it kept on stretching and stretching and -
-And a heavy hand slammed on my shoulder. I turned, saw a glimpse of a human form, before it all crumpled into literal dust. I was left with a large mark of ash all over my shirt.
****
Everything in the kitchen was floating two feet about the counter. Knives hummed in mid air, a pan of half-scrambled eggs floated a few inches away from the actual frying pan.
****
My parents were found dead. Clawed through. I opened my eyes to see the demon hunched over me.
He reaches a twisted hand out to me, slashing. I screamed, and he disappeared, leaving bloody gashes across my face.
****
The army tried to take him down. They're sat over a sand pit, I watched from the bleachers. Allen had his arm around me.
The sand started to swirl, disappearing, consolidating into a single human feature. I craned my neck, trying to see over, into the pit, it vanished.
An Army Private throws a handful of concrete dust into the sand pit. The shape was briefly illuminated by the falling dust.
A line of blood slowly appeared across the Private's chest. He stared in horror, it grew, ripped him apart.
Allen covered my eyes from the rest.
****
Allen and I were sitting on the couch in the house. I was crying into his shoulder (the tears stung my injured face), he was looking around.
A pot dropped in the kitchen. I jumped up, staring at it.
The dust on the fridge and under the stove rattled out, forming the demon. He reached for me.
I ran to it, hysterical, wanting to stab it or punch it or just hurt it, and Allen grabs me, holding me back.
"No! It'll kill you!" He yelled, I kicked up, still trying to get to the demon.
****
and then I woke up. I had to turn the lights on in my room to make sure that all my stuff wasn't floating. I couldn't get back to sleep for a few hours.
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