I don't know what tomorrow's bringing; all I know is your doorbell's ringing
Three months of post-wedding Rapunzel-length hair has brought me to the brink of crazy, and I am happy to say that I’m going to get my hair cut tomorrow. I’m going to a new stylist in the City and hopefully I’ll be able to report back with a glowing recommendation for the curly haired ladies out there. The salon I’m going to is known for its curly hair stylists, and so I’m keeping my fingers crossed. It’s really hard to find somebody that can cut curly hair well. Most stylists want to take it and force it into stick-straight submission. I no longer have the willpower (or mental strength) to stand in the bathroom for 45 minutes with a blow dryer and a round hairbrush to beat my locks down, so finding someone to transform my bird’s nest of hair into something sassy and easy to style has been an obsession for the past two years. I’m aiming for something Jennifer Aniston-esque: tousled yet neat loose waves. Eh. It never hurts to hope for miracles.
On another random note, I’ve been rocking out to Kelis’ newest release, “Kelis Was Here.” I haven’t been moved by a CD in its entirety since Madge released “Confessions” last fall. My favorite tracks right now are number 5, “Living Proof,” and number 7, “Goodbyes.” I’m sure that will change in the next week or so, but I’ve been listening to it while I write during the day and during random trips around town in my car. I need to find new song outlets. I hardly listen to pop radio any more because the DJ’s who scream and talk crazy talk irritate me, and the endless non-stop commercials that seem to last a half-hour annoy me too. So the only places I hear new music are dance class and the gym. I might have to devote more time to listening to iTunes radio, which seems like a fantastic resource for finding random music.
Today El Husband came home from lunch bearing a cup cake. ‘Twas a sweet gesture, but unfortunately the cupcake wasn’t the greatest (he got it from the corner store by his office.) The most kick ass cupcake I’ve ever had was at the Magnolia Bakery in New York. San Francisco is finally catching up though, and more bakery joints are offering up cupcakes within their selections. I just might have to go cupcake hunting tomorrow after I get my hair cut!
Unforgettable, in every way
When I was a junior in high school my political science teacher Mr. Cozine once talked about how it felt the day that President Kennedy was shot. He said that it was something that you just could never forget; if you asked anybody alive on that day they could tell you exactly where they were, who they were with and what they were doing the moment they found out that he was dead. Mr. Cozine said that after that day, everybody felt as though the world they knew would be changed forever. I really never understood what he was saying until September 11, 2001.
I remember my clock radio turning on at 5:45 and hearing the local morning talk show hosts, Gene and Julie on what was at the time Z95.7. They were talking about a horrible accident with a plane hitting the World Trade Center. It usually takes me a good half hour to be fully awake, but after hearing the distress in their voices I was up instantly. I started getting ready for work when my roommate Krista knocked on my door and asked me if I heard the news on the radio. We tried to watch some news coverage on our TV, but since we didn’t have cable we had to watch the events unfold on our static-laden tube. I called into work that day and left a message with my supervisor saying that there was no way in hell I’d step into a high rise building and called my mom, who was already at work. My mom worked downtown, and because I didn’t want her on public transportation and I was too nervous about driving I told her to get a cab. My mom, bless her heart, is a wonderful lady but oh soooo cheap. Instead of listening to me she got on the 38 Geary bus and ended up at my apartment an hour later. She stayed at our apartment and to pass the time she watched the staticky TV and sewed up the holes in an old quilt. Krista and I went down to the blood bank later on that day to give blood but we were turned down because they said they had already reached capacity for that day. Late in the afternoon I took my mom down to the BART station and put her on a train to go home, even though I was still really nervous. She called me when she arrived and told me that there was absolutely nobody on BART when she rode it. The last thing I remember about that day was looking up into the sky and not seeing any airplanes, and feeling like the world as I knew it would be changed forever.
My heart goes out to the WTC survivors and family members who are marking the anniversary of their lost loved ones. As I’m getting ready to start working I’m thinking about all those who died that day, and how they left for work not realizing that they would never have a chance to kiss their loved ones goodbye. They’ll never travel to places they longed to see or realize their goals. I know it’s not much, but I’m going to dedicate the work that I do today in honor of them; I’m going to relish all of the interviews I have to do and I'm going to write hard and well, because those that have died have been robbed of their opportunity to chase own dreams.
We all want a love bizarre
How did the weekend go by so quickly? I just finished compiling a list of people I’ll need to interview this week for a travel story I’m doing and the list seems a kinda daunting. I have a feeling I’ll be on the phone a lot. I’ve found that trying to e-mail people first doesn’t always work, so I prefer making phone contact first. The thing that I hate though is doing that very first call. I don’t know what it is; I’ve cold called for jobs before (and hated every minute of it) so it’s not like I’m green. I will do everything I can to avoid doing that first call, and instead of just getting it done I’ll suddenly have the overwhelming need to clean my workspace, or cut my nails or the dig all of the boogers out of my nose. These procrastination techniques can go on for about an hour, and then by that time I’ll feel guilty enough to call that first person, and then it’ll be fine. There’s just something about doing that first call that stresses me out, argh! So, tomorrow’s goal is to just get it done. I know I’ll have to call eventually so it doesn’t make any difference if I wait an extra hour or three.
It’s been a really mellow weekend. I didn’t go to brunch with Ms. C, but I did go to watch “Little Miss Sunshine” with Le Husband on Friday. I wasn’t as moved by it as I thought I’d be. Cons: I thought it was going to be funnier and I wasn’t that invested in the characters. Pros: The final dance scene with Olive and her family rocking out to Rick James’ “Superfreak”! It was moving enough to warrant a few plays of the song when I got home.
It’s weird to me that there are people out there in the world who aren’t moved to shake their bums when they hear “Superfreak.” Are they even hearing the same song I’m hearing? Another random song from a movie that’s been moving me lately is Sheila E.’s “Love Bizarre” from “Krush Groove,” which I tried to watch last week. It’s allegedly a cult classic … I don’t really know why because I slept through three-fourths of the movie, but Sheila E.’s performance of “Love Bizarre” moved me enough to stay awake for a solid ten minutes. I actually found a 12 minute extended mix of Love Bizarre and I almost could not take it (the original song is six minutes.) You could read both “The Iliad” and “The Odyssey” during the breakdown alone on that 12 minute remix. Then you’d still have leftover time to wax your upper lip hairs AND do an at home out-of-the-box hair color. Then you’d still have time to make Betty Crocker brownies. I’m not joking; that song feels three times as long as “Rapper’s Delight” by the Sugarhill Gang.
So here’s to another week and another new start! I hope this week is productive and that I get some good news on the go-ahead front.
Got my mojo working
Fall has arrived! The leaves across the street are starting to turn yellow, and I can no longer here kids playing outside during the day. OH…and the fact that it’s been overcast/gray/generally yucky for the past two weeks is also a big indicator that summer, like Elvis, has left the building. I sometimes can’t believe that Le Husband and I think about moving to Portland, because although I love having that marine layer to keep things cooler, I don’t know if I could hang with having so many gray days.
It’s been a productive writing week. I’m doing a Hawaii travel story, which I’m really excited about, and I’ve been pretty good about staying on task. I think one of the hardest things about freelancing is constantly fighting the temptation to tool about. Writing is fun if it’s just crazy-free-form-babble-blog writing, but when you have to think about AP style and transitions and active voice it can lose some of the fun. I’m not complaining though. There are a lot of people out there who would love to get paid for doing something they actually like to do.
This weekend I’m going to be working at home on the travel story and perhaps going to brunch with my awesome friend from my college days, Ms. C. Maybe I’ll get the chance to go to a movie with El Husband tonight. Should be lovely and mellow…last weekend we went to Disneyland and I gotta say: you know when you are getting old when you go to Disneyland and your feet hurt like all hell the day after and you have to take three Advil to be semi-functional. I can’t remember any sort of bodily pain the day after Disneyland when I was a kid! They’ve got a few new rides and my favorite was Buzz Lightyear. It’s interactive. You get a laser zapper and you have to zap stuff. At the end, you can see a picture of yourself during the ride and you can e-mail it to yourself! Ours was really funny; we looked like we were trying to do our best Mulder and Scully with our laser zappers up in the air. And sorry, Pirates of the Carribean fans – Disney has changed the ride in the wake of the movie. Now it kinda sucks. Pirates used to be my favorite ride, but now they have all these random references to Jack Sparrow throughout the ride every two minutes and it just doesn’t make any sense.
The morning is almost over and I’ve got to get cracking. Maybe today will be the day when I write that perfectly clear sentence …
Oh Happy Day ...
I can’t stop smiling! I got my first real (PAID!) writing assignment today. Things I plan on doing to celebrate the fact that I can now call myself a real writer without feeling like a Kevin Federline-esque wanna-be poser:
1. Pop the Cris
2. Do a dance of joy (or two or three) around the apartment
3. **Sigh with relief**
4. Go to a few celebratory dinners: one with TF maybe tonight, the other with lovely Cuckoo this weekend
5. Call the parentals to remind them not to be bitter about the fact that I never made it to med school or law school, because I have a “real job” that actually pays. And I like it!
6. Make a new inspirational writing music playlist for my iPod which will include the following songs:
- “Unwritten,” Natasha Bedingfield
- “Sacrifice,” The Roots
- “Cantneverdidnothing,” Nikka Costa
- “Paperback writer,” The Beatles
- “No Such Thing,” John Mayer
- "These Words Are Mine," Natasha Bedingfield
Yeah! I’m a writer, I’m a writer!
Do you take sugar? One lump or two?
Song lyrics that are wrong but sound so right:
1. Bee Gees - “More than a woman”
Real words: More than a woman, more than a woman to me!
What the Scarylibrarian hears: Bald headed woman, bald headed woman to me!
2. Def Leppard – “Pour some sugar on me”
Real words: Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of love. Sweet dream saccharine, loosen up.
What the SLB hears: Sweet dream saccharine, Lucy Liu! Lucy!
3. Peter Gabriel – “Shock the monkey”
Real words: Don’t you know you’ve got to shock the monkey?
What the SLB hears: Don’t you know you’ve got to Jacques the monkey?
4. Sade – “Smooth operator”
Real words: Smooooth operator, he’s a smooooth, operator.
What the SLB hears: Oooh barber-ater. He’s a smooth, barber-ater! (Yes, I know there’s no such thing as a barber-ater.)
5. The Clash –“Rock the Casbah”
Real words: Sharif don’t like it.
What the SLB hears: Sherry don’t like him!
Wordless Chorus
Why I love lists …
1. Soooo instantly gratifying
2. No need to actually complete your sentences
3. No structure? No problem!
4. Crossing stuff out is the ultimate sense of accomplishment
5. Visual record of what you don’t/do get done
6. Never had to turn in a list for an assignment or on deadline. Love that!
7. Helps this terribly disorganized person feel somewhat organized
8. Good format for an endless number of topics. Example lists: Why I hate worms. Why Britney Spears grosses me out and fascinates me at the same time. Reasons why my job rocks. Things I’d rather do instead of cleaning the toilet. French fries: why I hate to love you.
9. A good break from query letter writing, which is so structured and confining sometimes
10. Uses less brainpower that may be required for other endeavors such as haiku, parallel sentence structure, or contemplating the meaning of life
11. Can easily be compiled mentally while running 5 miles on a treadmill
12. Could seriously go on forever. (Forever, ever?)
