Lifestyles of the penniless and obscure

Okay, so yesterday was the first wedding I shot of the year. Yadayadayada. So the ceremony is doing it's thing, and I'm standing there by this table with all these glasses, taking pictures of the alter, and my elbow bumps one of the glasses and I hear it wobble. I turn around to straighten it and I knock one of the other glasses off the damn table and it breaks, right in the middle of the quiet ceremony. I hear a couple people gasp and other people turned to see what the noise was, and I just stood there like it never happened, trying not to laugh. Yeah. So I broke a glass. I am so destructive. I said it before and I say it now. During the reception the mother of the bride comes over and tells me it's okay, it was just an accident, HOWEVER, it was the ONLY fucking glass on the table that was worth anything, it was handmade, blahblahblah. So I have to pay for it, which will be according to her, around $50. It could've been worse, it could've been $5,000...I just don't have a cent to spare. It's just my effing luck.

So today I did the audition and it went well, and then I headed over to the park where all this earth day stuff was going on. I let myself go wild and actually got FOOD (a veggie burger and some veggie chilli, good for me to be at the only event all year where they'll accomodate vegetarians). Walked around a lot and got my stress level tested by a dianetics guy. He said mine was around the middle, and this was during a peaceful day.

After THAT, I headed up the hill to where we were meeting as a "bridal party" for a photographer who hired us so he can build a portfolio. I saw a few people I've met on sets, and nobody noticed my slightly stained, very wrinkly dress. I got sunburned AND I'm coming down with dad's cold. AND I had forgotten my phone at home this morning so I had to be without it ALL DAY LONG. I know. When I don't have my phone on me my world ends.

Now it's time for tea.

Okay, so today was freaking LONG. I got up at six, arrived at the filming for the trailer I'm gonna be in at eight. When they start filming the feature, they're gonna call US to be in it; we have first dibs. Yay! We shot three scenes and I didn't get home until about five. I ate a doughnut on the set and feel horrible about it. It was so freaking good. It was a lot of hurry up and wait; it always IS. Hung out with a couple cool people there, a few I've been on other sets with before, so it was good to see them again. On my way out, I found a parking ticket on my car. Fucking jerks need to give us leeway on saturdays.

Got home and worked on my "novel" a bit and killed off one of my main characters. I feel terrible and sad now. I may fix it and keep him alive, but when you keep writing and it turns into something like you're EXPERIENCING it yourself, you find things happen in your story you don't WANT, but it makes sense and is almost impossible to make it happen otherwise.

I then started cleaning for tomorrow, dyed easter eggs and painted each one with replicas by the great masters of French Impressionism. I have two Van Gogh's, a Degas, a Gauguin, a Monet and a Toulouse Lautrec. And two others, one of a painting I don't know by WHOM, and a springtime tree. After that, I cleaned some more, did laundry and started my black bean soup which I will be the primary eater of tomorrow when the fam comes over.

I now just have to mop the floor, finish my soup and consume the rest of my 64 oz of water. It is nineteen minutes til midnight. I don't think I did enough today.

So I usually use the space in here to bitch about my day and lament about how poor/fucked up/sick/pathetic I am, but maybe this time I'll set that stuff aside and just type randomly about stuff.

I like tea a lot. I am not drinking it now; I'm trying to get my 64 oz of water in before midnight. But I love tea immensely. To those who drink it on a regular basis like moi: ever notice that as soon as you start drinking a cuppa, your mood goes up and you feel physically better? I think it has magical healting properties. But the downside is that your teeth get stained. That's another thing: why are brits stereotyped as having bad teeth, even now past the millennium? Dunno.

Here in the US (and pretty much everywhere in the world) they are having a bit of an economic crisis. But you know what I think? The media is scaring the shit out of people and keeping them tight so they won't stimulate the economy. I don't think America is as bad as everyone thinks it is in this crisis, but everywhere you look, it's about "Will you go bankrupt?" "Can you survive the crisis?" "Ways you can cut back on personal spending," yada yada yada.

Does anyone think these are motivational, ecouraging, ECONOMY-STIMULATING words??? I think not. Everyone is scared out of their minds and I think that's what they want. It's easy to control desperate, fearful people, and these people will do anything the gov says in order to just survive.

Last night I had a Beatles dream. As much as I think about the Beatles, I don't dream about them nearly enough for my liking, and I have nowhere near the amount the sex dreams about them as I want (especially sex dreams in the Rubber Soul/White Album eras).

The dream involved me crashing some kind of very formal party at a huge mansion on a ton of land; it was nighttime. The Beatles were there (Abbey Road era), and I remember being in absolute AWE of John and Paul. I've heard people say it was mesmerising beyong belief being in their presence, they were that powerfully charismatic. I was trying to get their attention without fawning. They were bored and decided to split, and I tried to get invited to wherever they were going. I was walking with them off to the side down this huge drive to where the cars were, and I said hi very casually. They barely looked up, and Paul gave me kind of "hey" back, not even really acknowledging me. They were untouchable. Their bubble was unpenetrable unless they allowed it. I was dejected and sad; I missed my chance.

I swore I was going to be productive today and promptly logged into my computer and started a job application at a local museum. Found a perfect entry level position available, go me! So I am filling out all the standard job applicant stuff, which is enough of a headache, and the pages just go on and on...and on and on...I was frowning at the ethical questions they were throwing my way via computer screen. "Do you think the youth of our age is doomed to burn in blazing eternal fires?" "Are you a sadist who must be right at all costs, and do you enjoy expressing these urges with whips and chains?" I might be exaggerating a BIT, but THOSE were the underlying meanings...and to make things WORSE:

They effing made me take an INTELLEGENCE test! Those shitty "If some pooples are crapples and most crapples are shittles, then how many shittles are pooples?" After I FINALLY got to submit the effing thing, I needed to rest. I should've gotten paid for going through it.

I later headed downtown for a free lecture and lo and behold, the building was closed. So I made my way back homeward where I went out to eat with mum and her friend. They didn't have any good vegetarian soup (I hatehatehate squash), so I ate a huge salad with a side of pineapple and melon whilst looking wistfully at my mum's friend's double chocolate ice cream mound.

I come home to find a spider hanging out at my doorway, wanting in. I killed one of it's posse on the wall a week or so ago, and evidently the spider fam has gotten wind of the homicide. I see these spiders in my doorway ALL THE TIME now, just waiting at the crack, about to dart in to hide and eventually crawl up my nose to eat my brains in the dead of night for being the bitch spider-smusher I am. Even if you swat them away, they just come back, and even if you stomp centemetres away from them, they just smirk and look the other way. Little arseholes.