Not In Kansas Anymore...

Click your heels, and see if home is where you hang your hat, or somewhere else inside yourself as this simple, postmodern girl takes on L.A.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Allright, I don't know what's going on in the Universe, but I am a moving target for all manner of humorous mishaps this week. First the hair thing, and then today....

It's been one of those days, but I just have to make a joke about it or I'll have a stroke....

So I'm running late for an interview already when I reach up into the cabinet to grab some sugar for my coffee. I guess I wasn't paying attention, because there were two cans of unsweetened cocoa on the same shelf, ( the very top one) and they came down at me before I could stop them. One even bonked me on the bridge of my nose before it hit the counter.

The only problem was that one of the cans didn't have the lid secured properly. You can guess what happened next. Yup: flying cocoa everywhere. And I do mean everywhere: my washer/dryer is right next to the counter, and I had a load of laundry in a basket sitting next to it. All over the clothes, the floor, the sink, the washer, me......

And I'm still cleaning it up. I'm going to be doing laundry all night, and then I have to get behind the washer and get all that powder out from behind.

As if this wasn't bad enough, I then spilled the sugar. Luckily it was in the sink, but I think I'm staying away from all dry goods for the rest of the day. Maybe all week.

So I was late for the interview and the woman had already left. I explained briefly to her assistant, and she told me to come back at 1pm tomorrow. I can only hope she will believe such a silly story and still consider me for the job. ::Strains of "A Chorus Line": "I really need this job/Please God, I need this job/ I want to GET THIS JOOOOOOOB!!!!"


I swear, sometimes my life strains credulity. Sometimes I think I must look like some histrionic compulsively hyperbolic excuse-maker. But it's true, it's all true, just some of the names have been changed.

Monday, February 25, 2008

I know you're all expecting my Post-Oscar Report about now, and I promise to get to that ( in the meantime, some highlights: boring, too many montages, men need to shave more for events like this and yes, it was raining, but what's up with the boring hair, ladies? Okay, more later). Right now, however, I have something more pressing going on:
My hair. Is. Fucked. I'm not just talking about it just not looking good these days. I'm talking about "Oh nooooo. I need a professional. " I'm talking about I almost cried. And am now in a panic because I have a job interview tomorrow for a job I actually want and it's at a HAIR STUDIO, and one, if not possibly TWO dates this week. Oh boy. Oh, and tomorrow? Well, having worked in many a spa and salon, I know ( in case you didnt!) that MOST of them are closed on Mondays. Yup. It's true.
Here's what happened:
I colored my hair last week. I was tired when went shopping that evening. They didn't have my regular color in stock. So I picked up something I *thought* was comparable ( Mistake #1). It wasn't. So I went back and tried to put on another color wash type thing ( a temp color) thinking it might brighten things up (Mistake #2). It didn't. The result was hair that was a very dark auburn brown, and made my complexion look like I'd been in chemo for a few weeks.
So I go back to the drugstore and buy this stuff called "Color Oops" . Dani used it once to great success, so I figured it was safe ( Mistake #3). It's meant to remove all the color, gently, and leave you with the color you started before your debacle began. Guess what? It didn't. I was blonde. And by blonde I mean Sammy Hagar, not dishwater. It was a little shocking at first, but I thought it was a good place to start from scratch ( Mistake #4). The box said to go ahead and color it properly if you so desired right away, so I did (Mistake #5).
And the result was a disaster. A DISASTER, I'm telling you!!! The roots of my hair are the Ginger Spice color we all know and love. The rest of my hair is black. And by black, I mean Jennifer Garner fading into India ink. It's bad. It's not only bad, it's OBVIOUSLY bad. The other color was not flattering, but this....this....this is "My friend Darlene did it at home over her kitchen sink. Can you pass me that pack of Marlboros and my Docs?" bad.
I should interject here that I've been coloring my hair since I was 17. I haven't always chosen well, but I know what the hell I'm doing. Only once before in the last 22 years have I fucked something up so badly I needed professional help. And that was when L'Oreal put the wrong color in the box.
ACCGCH! What am I gonna do? I mean, I clearly can't fix it myself, and will NOT chance another trip with Color Oops. I have to see a professional. Which I cannot afford, BTW....but ?????
Ohmygod,Ohmygod, Ohmygod, my kingdom for an aunt in cosmetology who could fix this on the cheap! But no, I suppose I will have to go trolling tomorrow for the rogue salon open on a Monday to repair this nightmare, and pray it doesnt start to break off in the sink if and when I do . Shit, shit, shit. *Sigh*.
So my Oscar commentary will have to wait. It's vain, yes, but I have a crisis to deal with! Wish me luck.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

I'm posting this because I'm right there with Sassy, if you've read her blog ( I'm so lazy I don't even have it linked in my sidebar: ). Once again I find myself up for a job I could do, could probably swipe without even blinking from whatever naif wants it, too. Except I don't want it. Oh, I do want the money. I NEEEEEED the money. I just had a moment today where I was like: I can't DO this anymore.

What I can't do anymore is deal with my life as it is. I don't want the dumb jobs that don't pay me near enough for what I do, NOT commesurate with experience. At the same time, I don't want some job that has me working 40hrs a week for $50,000 a year, because I would surely end up crying into my coffee every day before I went there. I feel like such a whiner saying all this, like a spoiled brat who wants MORE MORE MORE> but I have to believe there's more out there for me.

I can't deal with the personals situation anymore; if I could get my money back right NOW I would. I've sent out at least 3 emails a day for the past 7 days. I see on my "Who's Viewing Me " list that the men do a drive by my profile. And nothing. I've looked at my profile, revamped, written, edited, had OTHER people look, make suggestions, and made changes and all I can think of is: I'm just not that titillating or model-sexy. Well, excuse me for being normal. I thought I was a pretty girl before this. I thought I was funny, and very smart and kind, and a good catch. Apparently, I was wrong. And I don't like that this dumb random system is having this effect on my self-esteem or hopes for the future.

( Side note: what's also sort of insane is that personals is owned by some company called Who cares,but in an unlikely mish-mash, they tend to throw in their other two personals sites, and into the same dating pool. Now, I know they're assuming that most of those people are funny and intelligent and up on the issues of the day. Correct, but can I just say, "?????" It's like making a salad of chuckling smarty-pants, snarky liberal intellectuals, and , well, intelligent perverts.--I mean "pervert" in a nice way.-- That to me is one weird, and somewhat unpalatable mix. )

I'm finding myself with little motivation anymore; I don't want to clean. I don't want to eat. I don't want to read. I want things to be different, and I don't know how that's supposed to happen. *sigh*.

At any rate, sometimes when I feel this way I go and remind myself that I could at least be of service. SO here it goes:

I haven't listed THIS in my sidebar, either, but I'm a big proponent of Project (RED), which is an organization started by Bono, et al to stop AIDS in Africa. It's at epidemic porportions, and the drugs we have in the developed world could easily stop it in its tracks. It's a matter of getting them there.

As those who know me well are aware of, I've been in and out of AIDS charities for the last 10 years or more, doing what I can to help the work continue. It's a cause I'm passionate about. I believe that there are too many moral contingencies and shame-based policies in place keeping this disease going. First it was because of the gays, and then it was because of ( ::whisper::) sex. I'm one of those people who can't stand the whole Puritan attitude about sex. People have it. People like it. It's a natural thing. Big whoop. And letting generations of people die because we're too skittish to discuss the ways to prevent it is an atrocity.....and that's what motivates me today.

What motivates Project (RED) is a bit of a twist on the same deal: those who have should stop the massive sweep of this disease through an entire continent, for those who have not. It could be said, "Why THIS and not another problem in a 3rd world country? Surely there are many." Yes, that's true. But this is by far the worst one seen in a century: over 70% of the ENTIRE CONTINENT is infected. Can you imagine what it would be like if 70% of the US were infected with HIV? It would be a crisis on every front imaginable: economic, social, political, health......and that's what is going on there.

Part of it is because, again, of proscribed beliefs about sex, and an unwillingness of certain policy-makers to approve of education. It's exacerbated by the lack of access to educational sites, due to extreme poverty. And that's just an unacceptable situation, to watch an entire continent drift away when the solutions are available for us to give.

AS Bono says: "It's not charity. It's justice." And he's right: it's not about shelling out more and more dollars to an endless pit of need. It's about doing our duty as a human being to another human being, not standing by and watching. In this life, you don't get to stand on the sidelines. You have no business being standing around, hands in pockets, not making eye contact with the rest of the population, if you're living and making use of the world's resources. This is just my opinion, but : it is an ethical imperitve to give back. Whatever you're capable of is enough; whether that means you take your time to raise good children, you throw a few pennies into the bell-ringers' pot at Christmas; you pay it forward in kind action when you can, you smile and say "thanks" to the grocery clerk like she's a person one afternoon. It's not that hard. It really isn't.

Project (RED) not only stands on its own, but it linked with another organization called ( which is about dropping global debt and reducing extreme poverty in 3rd world nations NOT through handouts, but by fair renegotiation of their debt with 1st world countries. ( This started out through another larger organizaton called DATA: Debt, AIDS, Trade, Africa, that was also helped by Bobby Shriver . It helps to create opportunites by allowing places like Africa to participate in fair trade, with fair tariffs for the first time in hundereds of years, allowing them to get out of the hole themselves and have some dignity and pride. Project (RED) is just addressing the bleed where it starts: the health epidemic that makes all that work null and void, first.

And it's very easy to be a part of it. Just this Valentine's Day, Hallmark made these great efforts to make fun products that are cool as hell. So even if you can't afford the more expensive stuff like the Gap items, ( which are damned cool, anyway), you can afford a greeting card. I couldn't believe how rocking this stuff was, and of course, I bought alot of it. Find out more, here:

I get excited about these things. And when I'm sitting around thinking my life has no meaning, I think, well, at least there's reason for hope in another way. And I can be that drop in the bucket that goes somewhere. At least.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

I was just thinking today how my rampant crush on my endodontist was becoming a little awkward. I've spent so much time with the man, since well before Thanksgiving now, up close and personal. He's very, very adorable, hilarious, personable, and really cares about his patients. (We've had a few heart to hearts about how my teeth ended up in such a state and he seriously believes I've been wronged in many instances that could have prevented it, and expressed sincere compassion and willingness to help me seek legal action should I choose to).

We've also had some extremely funny days where we've just laughed about stupid stuff or talked about books we've read. ANd did I mention he's cute? Persian, dark hair, with big giant blue eyes. Ach.

He's also brilliant at what he does, and gives top of the line care. ( I ask 7 million and 1 questions about everything, including all this equipment he has, and what it's for, and he always patiently explains. He says some endos don't bother to do it like he does- he uses sonar to detect the end of the root and fill it- pretty high tech. He also takes an xray before, during and after he's done just to check everything, and makes sure to show them to me, and again, explain. ) I was even in the chair once with my mouth all jacked open like a car undercarriage when the nurse on duty made some quip about how Medical didn't pay for crap and they didn't really recoup what was spent. He agreed with her, but shot back, "Sometimes it's more than about money. Right, Jessica?" and he patted me on the arm (I grunted in agreement). It touched me that he bothered to at least make me feel better when she said that, and continues to do such great work without much financial reward.
He did his residency in STL, even, so we have lots in common......and as I've mentioned, married. He's a newlywed ( just last year) . He clearly loves his wife, alot, as he mentions her all the time. My sheer by-the-fingernails grip is what has been holding me together during recent these times when I was totally half in the bag from the sedation and my ethics were feeling a little lost in the fog of benzodiazapenes. God forbid, I probably would have made a pass at him ( thought about it, frequently, for sure). Ironically, I probably would lose all respect for him if he EVER responded back, being that he IS married....damn these Catch -22s!

He made a comment last week that next week would be our last appointment and that "we've developed quite a special bond". I couldn't stand it and made light of it. But I'm pondering getting him a book or something just to thank him for the quality work he's done ( wink).

I missed him by a year. Alas. My family isn't Jewish, but I can hear my mom now, "You coulda married a doctah!!" LOL!

So this was my last appoinment with him today, and it was a little sad. I'm SOOOOOO not sad to have the root canals end, but I SO looked forward to seeing him every week or so. My appointment today was a little rocky- it was a big molar in the back upper right on the top, just about the toughest spot for him to get to, and it hurt, and I didn't take enough meds at first, and I needed a two extra shots, and so on and so forth. Nonetheless, it was still fun- how is that possible? We talked about tattoos,which led to movies ( "Memento"- an obvious transition), which led to more movies ( "The Prestige" because it was made by the same director) . Was he looking forward to going to Cancun for his birthday ( a surprise from his wife) , what she did ( she's a pediatric dentist), and how she coughed so hard from a cold last she threw her back out in the middle of traffic and she called him crying, because she couldn't even move the car, and how he had to go get her, pick her up, move her and take her to the chiro all day....and the whole time I'm thinking, "HOW GREAT IS THIS GUY??? He's funny and smart and devoted to his wife....." Ach.

Then he said something funny about how his friend and he were talking about how hard they worked in dental school and oughta let loose now ( this of course was interjected by me and the dental tech trying to convince him to go get a big tattoo- "like a molar on your bicep! That'd be so tough!!"). I said I worked really hard in school too, and didnt do alot of fun stuff, either, blah,blah, and he said, "What is your degree in?"
I gave him this look like "Dude, you don't know by now???"
He started guessing- off the mark.
I said, "Oh man, I am so disappointed." And then I told him-
"OH YEAH! We've talked about that!!"
I said, "Yes," mock-coldly, and then muttered, "jackass" in jest.
He almost doubled over, laughing. He said, "Well, you know. Our familiarity here is completely on a different level. I give you a tooth sensitivity test and tell you to raise your hand, and you're hitting me instead. ( Not true, thank you!) What next?"
I said, "I just won't even call you Dr M____ anymore. I'll just call you by your first name. "
"Which is?" ( He has an uncommon, hard to pronounce Persian name.)
" P_____"
"OHMMY GOD, you even pronounced it correctly!!! I have to tell you, when I was growing up, they called me all these things......"

And so it went.

When he was finally done, he said:
"Well, Jessie ( "Who told you my friends call me Jessie?" "Oh, it's just a guess.") you're done. You did great. I'm going to miss you a little. "
I said I would miss him, too, and gave him a hug, and said, "I hope I never have to see you professionally again."
He answered, "Yeah! I get that! I hope I run into you out in the world somewhere."
I said "Me too."
He patted me on the shoulder and said, "You're a good person."

He walked me upfront, and the nurses said, "Has she graduated?" He answered, "Indeed she has."
He was writing out his business card for me ( he always forgets I have his cell for emergencies). In the pause while he was writing, I said, "Well, if you ever want to get coffee and catch up...." ( I do NOT know what gave me enough chutzpah to say THAT! The drugs, probably.)
And he stopped me short ( maybe because the nurses were listening) and said, "My email is on here. Drop me a line, let me know how you're doing."

And I left.


NO, I am not going to go after a married man, and NO, I don't think he was hitting on me. I get a very strong impression he adores his wife. And I don't DO that, so THERE. That said:

I do think that it would be lovely to develop a friendship outside of him digging around in my teeth. I'm semi-sure that that was what he meant by giving me his email, although he could have just been interested in hearing about how things are progressing dentally and concerning this possible lawsuit. I won't abuse it, that's for sure. I'm far too terrified of doing the wrong thing or misinterpreting a kind gesture as an invitation to potential friendship, especially with MY hearts-in-my-eyes mindset. If I have to yank myself back by my own hair and yell " Keep it in perspective!!! Be appropriate!!! Appropriate!!!" to myself, I will.

It's always tenuous bridging that gap between doctor/patient or teacher/student, even in a potential friendship thing. First of all, there's all these ethics involved. I've determined through much deliberation --started many, many years ago when I had a terrible crush on a teacher of mine, who seemed like he really wanted to be my friend-- that it in part has to be iniated by the person with less authority, or else it smacks of exploitation. Whether it is or not is no matter. It's just those kinds of dynamics are hard to negotitate, and if the more vulnerable party starts first, and the other person responds in kind with respect and genuine interest with boundaries that are clear, it can work. It's a smooth transition when that inital hump is over, but getting over it is totally weird and risky and fraught with questions.

I know it can be done- my friendship with R is a prime example ( R, feel free to offer any advice here!!!). R was a teacher of mine in a film class and we became friends right after. It was a bit of an oddly ideal situation, though, so it was far easier than it was with other people in the same sitch I ended up pals with. It went like this: I had just gotten out of the bin about, oh, 6 weeks prior, and I had to go back to school to get my funding to well, erm, live, so dropping out wasn't an option. ( In retrospect it was the best thing for my self-esteem and mental health at the time; it reassured me that I still could use my intellect and helped me focus on external things). I couldn't handle, however, too many taxing requirements of academia, as I would have been totally overwhelmed mentally. So I went to R and said, "Listen, I've been really sick, and I'm taking these new meds that leave me a little jumbled. I don't think I can write these weekly papers you're asking. What can we do? I want to do the work. Can I meet you weekly for an oral review?"
R in a creative moment of inguenity said, "Why don't you tape your thoughts on the films weekly? I'll listen to them and given you a written comments page. "

This worked brilliantly, because god knows I can wax on and on about things for longer than a 60 minute tape. And so we had this whole conversation going, in a way, on a different level than other students. As R once said to me " I had you all to myself, and could listen to your ideas and thoughts." And when the class ended, we became friends, and it persists to this day.

It's funny, because that same semester I had a class with a prof I'd taken many times before in the Religion department. When I told him the same problem, he asked what had happened, and because I knew him better, I told him. This led to this whole private discussion on the nature of depression, existential despair, medication, loss, faith, and lots of other things ( he was going through a divorce at the time and was taking meds himself).

I never did end up close pals with Mr. Sexy Prof, but I do occasionally email him now and again, and he's a great resource for all things. I did, however, get to be great friends with his collegue, and peer, who used to invite us over to swim, and meet his partner and dog, and all sorts of fun things. I miss him.

So, I'm running on.....bottom line, I'm going to miss Cute Endo, and I hope it's not the last I see of him. I can't force that transition into friendship, but I can make appropriate forays into openings he's given.

For one, I thought I'd get him something to thank him for all the time he's spent on my case, because it hasn't been easy. I bought him Curious George Goes to The Dentist, because I thought he'd get a laugh out of that, and his wife would appreciate it, too. Then I got him a little book by Rachel Remen, MD, Thoughts From "Kitchen Table Wisdom", beause it has alot about compassion and healing, and I figured I'd write something in there about how he has a good handle on both, and he might find it inspiring.

I think he'll like it. And that's my overture. And I'll leave it at that.

SO weird trying to court friends when you're older. Especially ones in a professional setting. Not to mention ones you have raging crushes on and you constantly have to remind yourself that their emotional orientation toward you is NOT the same as yours toward them.

Still, I remain hopeful. It would be nice. He's a lovely person.

And who knows? Maybe he has a friend who is single and cut from the same cloth. You never know.

*Sigh*. Unique situation. Long day. Weird day. And so I put a period on it and crawl into bed with my painkillers and my heating pad, and rejoice that this part, at least, is finally done, and we move on to parts both known ( crowns!) and unknown ( everything I've mentioned so far).

Blessings on all of that. Amen.
I just have to comment on these new Lindsay Lohan pics, shot by Bert Stern, in the esssence of the very famous photo shoot done with Marilyn Monroe, right before she died. Lindsay is made up like Marilyn, and they're nude/semi-nude, and very much almost pose for pose, from what I have seen.

Of course, the originals are beautiful, and in the present tense, Lindsay is a beautiful girl, and takes beautfiul pictures. She, like Marilyn, probably always will. She hit the genetic jackpot, much like Marilyn did. And Bert Stern is still a wonderful photographer. And yet...

Everything has a context. A cultural context. And this is my take on that:

I think they're disturbing. She's too young to be taking her clothes off like that. I'm not trying to be a moralist, and I'm hardly a prude. I don't judge her, neccessarily, for wanting to do them- 21 year old girls like to do all sorts of things, and playing with identity is one of them, naked or clothed. But I just gotta say it: where's her FRICKIN PUBLISCIST?? For cryin' out loud, she's been in rehab THREE TIMES this year, she's gotten out of cars without her panties on,, hello????
AND: She's done a few cheesecake-y things for Vanity Fair, Maxim, etc, and she's ONLY 21! Where do you go from there? Seriously: where do you GO from there?

Secondly, I think far too much emphasis was placed on her becoming "legal" ( when she was 18, for those of you not in the know, there was a giant party in LA with her naked ass poking out of a field on all the fliers and invites. Not to mention that cover of Rolling Stone when she was "Hot, Ready and Legal!!!" Then again when she was 21, the nightclub Pure in Las Vegas offered her ALOT of money to host her 21st, with big billboards screaming "Lindsay Lohan turns 21!" Her fee was allegedly already paid at the time she started rehab #2). It was all clearly an underage-girl appeal, -- and granted, there were not and are not many girls who were as gorgeous and appealing as Lindsay well before they were even 17, so it's not like I don't understand, or even think this is the first time. HOWEVER, I think legitimizing that kind of attitude toward adolescent girls and then celebrating it when they are finally of age to be plundered ( excuse me for being blunt) and normalizing that ( especially in her case) has really become a tweak off normal. To me, that's what's really more of what's happening here, with the acceptance of stuff like this. In other words: hey, we finally get to see her naked. Isn't about time? She's 21, so yeah, right? And she's legal, so what's does it matter? It matters because she's already gone far enough, as soon as she was 18, and now you've got the whole package, ( see above), and the world feels semi-entitled, or at least not surprised ( see this paragraph).

Plus, in a related vein, a young girl who was once a child star or even a teenaged star can't get attention in a serious way anymore in this town til she does Maxim, and if you don't believe me, go back and look at all the covers for the last 5 years. There's not a single girl on that magazine who isn't under 25. That's sad. It wasn't always like that- granted, it was always hard for women to be taken seriously if she couldn't shake off that "little girl" image, and produce some sex appeal, but in the last few years, it seems as if it's just expected that an actress of a certain age is going to appear in a really oversexed soft-core photo shoot. This Lohan shoot takes it as far as it has ever gone, (even if it's not for Maxim, et al) and with it now, it's gone too far. What next?

Overall, she has plenty of sex appeal on her own, with clothes on, and enough critical accolade to make a career on, so both ends of the Hollywood agendas are covered, anyway, if we were playing that game. So I wonder what else is shifting around culturally to make this an acceptable thing. .. So no, I don't like it.

Lastly, I very much agree with my friend R's statement about the appeal of the original Marilyn pics: they worked becase she was brutally honest and beautiful and vulnerable. I don't think they're sad or that they were taken when she didn't " much care much about her reputation anymore" , as has sometimes been said ( further evidenced by the fact that she took a pin to each negative she didn't like). They are more poignant, if only because she died not too shortly afterwards. The only appeal Lindsay has in them is that she's young and beautiful, and trying on her sexuality for herself in them, versus for someone else,( but as aforementioned, that's not how they'll be marketed).

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.....

Sunday, February 17, 2008

All men in LA are short. I have never seen so many men on under 5'8" in my life. I'm speaking purely from looking at the personals. I have never been one to really check the "stats" of someone- why do I care how much they weigh or how tall they are? I realize now that it's because at 5'8" I've always been slightly shorter than the men I've dated, purely by chance. That N guy? Has his height listed as 5'10". HA! I was wearing 2" heels and stood 2" above his head, which means he was actually my height exactly if I were in stocking feet.

I've never thought it mattered, per se, and I've never thought of myself as that shallow that I would exclude someone because of their height, of all things. But as my friend R says, personals can be like a catalog: you peruse and choose like you're picking out a duvet cover. "Oh, wrong size? Nah. I'll move on." If I met some man in real life and he was an absolute darling of a keeper and 5'6", would I ditch him? NO WAY! But I gotta say, I'm now checking to see how tall they list themselves. I suppose I'm becoming Duvet Cover Shallow.....

IN the end though, chemistry is this kind of thing that isn't fair or makes much sense. I like men who are taller than me, or can look me in the eye at least. I'm not so fussy that I'm looking for some dashing tall George Clooney ( although I sure as shit wouldn't pass it up!) and nothing at all, but he's either gotta be okay with my wearing heels and being taller than him or actually having the height. I have no idea why this is an attraction point for me, but there it is.

But back to my main point: when I lived in STL, there was never a time when I even THOUGHT about this sort of thing, as all my experiences negated it's need. But it seems like short guys ( I'm talking about 5'8" and under) are all living in LA. And when you think about it, alot of male celebrities are not very tall, even though they might have the charisma to compensate. Tom Cruise- 5'6". Toby Maguire- 5' 6"(- and he's Spiderman, for chrissakes!). Kirk Douglas is barely 5'5". And the list goes on. It makes one wonder what the deal is, like some sort of need to stand tall with their accomplishments? Or perhaps I'm just full of crap.

At any rate, it appears that I'm living in Short Guy Mecca, and I'm a Tall Girl Who Likes To Wear Heels. We'll see how that pans out. I'm hoping in the end it doesn't matter, or I overcome it, one of the two.

Good gravy. The stupid things you think about when you're trying to get a date. It really is ridiculous.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Just to get out of my own bullshit for awhile....

I can't say I'm a big fan of Arianna Huffington- she always seems to be dressed better than whatever vague ideas she's trying to push forth when she's campaigning for office. But as a political commentator and private thinker, I tend to get interested when she's got something to say. Her mannerisms and social graces deftly belie some earnest efforts to really provoke the way we think about culture, economics and politics. So when I'm feeling like my mind is rotting into oatmeal from the endless news-pablum that gets pushed my way, ( y'all know I don't watch the news; I went into that months ago during my Anderson Cooper Crush Phase- if he can't help things along with his paticular brand of cut-to-it, touchy-feely telejournalism, then fuck it, I'm not watching. But I DO read the news, people, I'm not a hermit!!) I go poking my head around TheHuffington Post ( ). She's got everyone and anyone on there, and nary a dull moment to be had. I know, it started off slow, but patience and persistance has proven its merit.

And yes, it has a slant, but it's pretty basic: things suck, and we all know it, so what to do? As a good European ( Huffington is Greek, which while that's techinically Mediterranian, let's not forget Greece as Rome's model, and Rome as the model for pretty much everything The Western World ever tried, after that.), I suspect Huffington goes with the European notion that by rustling up things in a meaningful dialogue ( NOT just the endless punditry you see on nightly news shows) , it can stir people to change. She's probably assuming alot about American citizens: their level of interest, education ; often overlooking the unfortunate fact that how whatever socioeconomic class one falls in to in this country has alot to do with your particular set of biases, probably more so than in other Western nations. ( Not to mention the sheer size of the US, which can create a sense of disconnect from a unified "American Exprience" between coasts. Something that French philosopher Benard Henri-Levy noted in HIS book American Vertigo :

But I digress. ) Underneath all that European idealism , though, , she is interestingly optmistic enough --just like Levy-- to get the sensibility of what Americans really all wonder about, as people-- rich, poor, Latin, Black, White or Other, --which is: why does it all feel like it's going to hell in a handbasket, and what can be done? And personally, I like the whole stir-the-tempest-in-a-teapot-and-get-a-riot-on-the-steps-of-the-Sorbonne kind of going at it. It's far more up close and personal and motivating, which is what really gets things done in the end.

I hope. It could be that I'm overly infatuated with some Gallic model of socio-political antithesis-to-synthesis or something. To split some hairs, I should say that I'm not a Marxist, but I like the idea of ideas affecting the concrete reality we live in, which is....oh, god, I could go on forever. Let me get to my point, because that's a whole other conversation, altogether.....

So John Cusack has a blog on the Huffington Post, and of course, since I have a not-so-secret crush on him, I went to take a peek. I was blown away by some postings he had made regarding the Blackwater scandal, and totally riveted by his interview with Naomi Klein ( Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism, which is one of thos must-read books for anyone who gives a damn about what's going on now in Iraq, et al). Before I get into it all, I feel the need to make elucidation here:

One of the reasons I have such a huge crush on Mr. Cusack, as my friends well know, is that he is a brilliant subtle actor who tries very hard to shuck and jive his way through the Hollywood system to make funny, smart, original films. (Yes, and the fact that he is sardonically witty, and at 41, still smoking hot, helps alot too). But something I never mention and plays a big part in my affection for him is his ideology and autodidactiscism- he's remarkably well-educated and adamant about his positions politically, socially, artistically. He's most openly and adamantly against neo-con agendas currently running the show in Washington AND his emphasis on the human payout for all of it. And he makes no secret of how this affects his choices in art-making. And I tend to be very interested in what he has to say because of that, and usually agree with his points,which makes it all the more provocative to consider him as a person and an idealist as time goes on.

( Another aside: See, you gotta love a guy like that. All my recent forays into dating just bring it all home to me even more, that integrity and intellect are a potent attraction. Alot of people don't know this about me- I'm the type of gal who has to have someone with her who is going to engage her brain in a powerfully intellectual way or else nothing happens-- no spark. I can't stand the idea of letting my mind go to seed while I sit across the breakfast table from someone for 30 years. What's the point? I don't care if he looks like frickin' Robert Redford ( somewhere during that whole "The Way We Were" period? Yeah.) and has the stamina, -ahem- of a racehorse, if I can't talk to him, we're done. And by talk, I mean REALLY talk- about issues, ideas, books, art, The Whole Nine,not just who won the Grammys and Britney's latest dillemma -- although I admit I enjoy that, too. But again, I digress.).

So, bottom line: in sharing this with y'all, I'm not just promoting the latest notions of my ever-persistant crush object. I'm trying to share it because I think it's important, and the fact that it comes out of the mind and mouth of my crush object is just a lovely fringe benefit for moi. So without holding out any longer, here's a link to his conversation with the absolutely wicked smaht and pen-knifed Naomi Klein, via the Huffington Post:

For me, it was interesting for a number of reasons, one of which being because I saw Blackwater through Anthony's eyes; a flip side to this conversation I think is highly relevant ( BTW: yes, that's who he worked for. I happen to know vis-a-vis a secondary source he is no longer employed by them and is moving back to his hometown in the Midwest for reasons unknown. Thusly, I feel it's safe to disclose. ). Cusack's comment that "You build a frontier, you get cowboys" is dead on when I compare insider stories from Tony, and all the things they were allowed to do. No one is more right when they say this is a privatized war, a war that is being bought and paid for, and because of old outstanding regulations from Eisehhower's era about defense contractors immunity, it's one without limits on Means to Ends.

We all probably know that from just reading Time once in awhile. However, I really see Naomi's secondary point about Green Zone bubbles being the real and possible long-term result of the current administration's choices to use private contractors for their dirty work . Anthony always talked about how spartan the conditions were in his bunker, but lemee tell you something: he had a safe, regular life there with crucial means for survivial, like water. Food. Heat. Access to outside communication. He was essentially living in a Drury Inn in the middle of a war zone. Ms. Klein's thinking projects this kind of setup to become de riguer not only in places such as those but in any place that is suffering from instability, including on these shores ( she uses Katrina debacle as an example). Hearing the discrepency between Tony's day-to-day setup and his immediate surroundings from his private daily reports back to me reveal an expedience and exploitative propensity with companies like Blackwater. We secure the plots of safety, now you buy them back. It sets up an economy and socio-political structure that thrives on instability and fear. How does that go back to an even keel, a mindset functions and profits from stability and peace? We're creating a monster of sorts, and that's Klein's main point.

What I would love to discuss with both Mr. Cusack and Ms. Klein, though, is the Oh-The Humanity factor, with an added twist. It's no secret we're all suffering from because of this way of doing business/war ( no difference) costs lives. Both of them do address the cost to the American people because of the aforementioned rotting-from-Freedman-applications-and-its-attendant-moral-bankruptcy in our governmental infrastructure; and both of them go on and on about the horror of it all equalling deaths and loss of lives by innocent civilians. Additionally, if you've seen "Grace Is Gone" ( , there's a significant nod to military loss as well. Nothing could be more true and appropo.

I would offer, however, the cost to our society is also seen in the psyches of the Blackwater employees coming home. In terms of damage, it is just the same the cost to a military family's, only without the psychological comfort of "serving" or the notion of " duty and pride". Just like anyone having been there and transitioned back into regular life, they have trouble assimilating. Some of them, like Anthony, are ruined people who will require extensive care to become familiar with their humanity again. And that's a price we will all have to bear as the fallout from this mess continues, into generations, psychologically, as well as economically, ideologically, and socio-politically. The choices that we are making to implement a system of privatized combat from companies like Blackwater are apparent in how that strategy changes the face of war and economics. But Blackwater working how it works-- making cowboys-- costs us, too. It changes the way the war game is played, and those playing that game from inside Blackwater can count on being twisted in ways that a soldier isn't, BECAUSE of that Means and End morality. First of all, it normalizes that morality and gives it a solidified place in war culture, so to speak. Secondly, no one mourns those cowboys or gives them a welcome home, not even the company that they've sold their souls to for the opportunity to make some money to support their families.

Simply the way the company is run changes the people involved and the choices they will make, and I've seen it up close. Looking at it from the inside gives a whole different scope to the picture, long term. Especially when we're talking about how an economy can afford to pay out to private contractors - where do they come from, those applicants, and why do they need the work? We all talk about how the opportunity was there, ( and Klein says, in part created) and how it's fucking up the entire sense and sensibility of our government, but the opportunist in people like Erik Prince ( the head of Blackwater) is ceratinly making the pay out in the human lives of his employees without a conscience. How that will play out in the long term at home is another side to consider, I say.

My point: Seeing the side of the less-sympathetic participants in this thing we call a war brings it all home very sharply for me, and should be a flip-side view that might also come into play in this dialogue. At this level of complication and relationship with money and government , it's not only changing the shape of global politics, economies, but also in the psychological on-the-ground living conditions and emotional lives of the people who live and breathe it. Even as far removed from the combat as Americans are in actuality, we are still affected by what comes back from that place, no matter which party you were playing with, especially in regard to personal relationships with those who make it back.....or those who don't.

While the tit-for-tat backscratching has taken itself to a place never seen before, to a place where incestuous gladhanding between business and government is pushing the boundaries of intermixing the two to a dangerous point, it's not just lofty and high and away in the ways that it will continue to affect American citizens and their lives....and what do we have to look forward to when this all dumps itself for the next Shock and Awe we will need to keep this kind of economy running? Naomi is right: the next big commodity will be your survival, ( and I add, how you live, in an existential sense, what the shape of your life will take day-to-day in your psyche), --on every level you can imagine.

So take some time, think it over, and choose wisely, when you're voting this year. Ask yourself if the party in question profits from extending war or prefers to risk the more complicted option of rebuilding and negotiating civility ( peace being a little naive at this point, I think.)

Oh, and if you make art, don't forget to stir the pot. It's part of arts' purpose- one of them, not the only one, but an important one- because provoking questions, feelings and thought is the spark to the flame of any change. Don't you agree?
To wit:

....And that's my op-ed piece for the day. Just so y'all know I don't totally fall into narcissism ;). (Maybe I should go back to grad school and not subject any of you to all of this,not to mention shaping it up from rambling and near-incoherent to a well-honed point, making it not so sufferable to slog through, hmm? A question to ponder. Input welcome.)

At any rate, good night and good luck.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

At Least It Wasn't Wii Golf: More Levity When You Need It Most:

So I'm in Cute Endo's chair yesterday getting my second to last root canal ( can I get a "hallelujah"?). He's got this whole dental dam/tooth collar/bite blocker business going on in there so I can't accidentially bite down and he can isolate bacteria while he works. Meanwhile, he's telling this story about an emergency client the day before:

Apparently this guy, a 22 year old UCLA student came into the office with this whole mess of a cracked tooth. It was so jacked up that they called Cute Endo over, who took a look at it and said, "Okay, what happened?" The kid wouldn't tell him, so Cute Endo is like, "Listen, I don't really care about what you DID, I just need to know what the story was, so I can assess the possibility of any additional damage ." UCLA Kid still is reluctant to spill, and at this point, Cute Endo is thinking it looks like he took a sharp hook into his jaw, so it was likely a bar fight or something equally retarded. So with what I can only guess was his typical fantastic chair-side manner and some guy-to-guy talk he gets the kid to confess....

The night before, he and his pal were playing Guitar Hero, right? And they were on this rippin' tear, and had been playing for hours, man. He's so into it, he's rocking out, and he SOMEHOW knocked himself in the jaw with the guitar neck so hard he bit his lip (and broke his tooth). But he was so into it, while he knew he was bleeding, he didn't really FEEL it, so he kept playing for another hour 'cause, you know, he was in the ZONE. But then he took a break and got a look at it and decided, whoa, he'd better have that checked.

Yes. I swear to all that is good and right that this story is indeed, true and not a fabrication or an exaggeration of any kind (on my part, anyway.)

Cute Endo said it took everything he had not to burst into hysterics at the ridiculousness of the story right in the kid's face. And that after he was done making the treatment plan he locked himself in his office and called his close friend, who is also into Guitar Hero and said, "I'm just calling because I gotta tell you: be careful so I don't have to do a partial tooth replacement on YOU the next time you get on a rippin' tear."

It's pretty hard to laugh when you've got all that gear in your mouth, but I was laughing so hard tears were rolling down the sides of my cheeks. God. That story made my day. (And God, I just gotta love Cute Endo. *Sigh* Dreamy. Alas... but that's a subject for another day.) If I had to get a root canal, at least there was entertainment, know what I mean? ROFLMAO!
Well. Now that point is moot ( about the budget). I got fired today.

I had an inkling something was up, after this big dustup with one of the estheticians last week. Never mind that they're on their way to firing her, and the customer in question was calling me up and yelling at me repeatedly COULD SHE SPEAK TO RAQUEL when Raquel wasn't in. ( For the record, I was polite to the woman, but I didn't know what to tell her, other than asking if I could take a message). Then when I made mention of it in the Daily Incident Report ( exactly what it sounds like) Abbie, the loud, obnoxious 24 year old know-it-all who's been there for 4 years jumped all over my ass. Abbie hasn't liked me since I got there, for reasons that are inexplicable. They're probably having to do with the fact that I could give a shit less that she's the Center of The Universe and likes to make Executive Decisions when management isn't around that serve her purposes, and that frankly, at 39, I don't CARE enough about whatever Personality Tap Dance she needs to do today unless it's in my way, which of course it was.( Otherwise, what would be the point of having it? Ugh.) BUT of course she is beloved and adorable and so on so you can guess how that went.
Mr. S (owner) said I worked hard enough and my math skills were competent enough, I just was a little short with people when I was overwhelmed and stressed out, and that he'd had complaints. ( "From whom?" "Oh, just customers. Therapists." Gosh, could you be more vague?)

I won't say I was fired unfairly, because that would be feeling sorrier for myself than I probably need to be. It's no big secret that when I get overwhelmed and stressed, I get short. As R ( who's worked with me repeatedly and still managed to be my friend and offer candor when I need it) said, "You're just not very good with people being stupid, or slow, or alot of bullshit office politics. And you can be very abrupt and short, and some people don't take that well. " He wasn't expressing it as a major shortcoming of my character, more like a tempermental orientation that would neccessarily make working in customer service problematic.

And he's right; I tend to get this "Are you kidding me, lady?" look on my face and in my tone when there are 3 lines ringing off the hook and She wants to dither with me ( yet AGAIN, as she does EVERY TIME SHE SHOWS UP) about how our parking situation is SO bad that she might not EVER come here again , which would be TRULY tragic because she's been coming here for 12 years, SINCE we opened, and she has just HAD it, and yes, she knows there's free valet parking, but in NO WAY is she handing HER car over to that MAN, blah blah blah...... my instinct in those situations is to say ( but I don't) ,"Let me drop everything and work on your stupid problem which clearly has more to do with the stick up your ass than anything real; while I'm at it let me take this oppportunity to remind you than since you live in LA, and we are on Ventura Blvd, one of the busiest stretches of real estate in this town, that parking notoriously SUCKS, as it does everywhere here, but especially within this 10 mile radius. Having lived here for I-don't-know-how-many years,how is it possible that you forgot to prepare for such inevitability? Ah. Clearly your sense of entitlement allows you to delude yourself into thinking that the laws of space and time fail to apply."

Which doesn't make me a really good candidate for customer service, I admit. Spas are nothing but sheer indulgence, and at a cost, and people expect to be pampered for what they're paying. They're coming to relax. It's a luxury item, not a neccessity, so they could easily decide to spend their money on more worthwhile things, so the trick is to lull them into this sense of such complete comfort and accomodation that coming on a regular basis seems ideal,and key to their overall health. I don't mind getting on board with that, on the whole, but I do mind getting on board with the entitlement and the attitude that comes with a client who Just Expects Because She Lives and Breathes. Everyone wants to feel catered to in that situaton, of course. I don't have a problem with that. It's the I'm-Special-And-Deserve-Excessive-Ass-Kissing-Because-I-Exist I have a problem with. It's quite rampant in this town anyway ( a fact I can't seem to emphasize enough when I call home; no one can imagine a whole city running on that kind of behavior or something) bit it runs rampant in situations like this. In my Midwestern pragmatism, I just want to laugh at their inflated notions of how the world works.

Which of course, is exactly what R is trying to express, and which again, doesn't make me an ideal candidate for this kind of work.

In a random side note, I DO do better at hair salons, where people are there for more practical reasons and while they expect a little pampering, they realize everyone is on a time schedule and once I'm nice to them while they're checking in, it's up to the stylist to give them the whole package. And there's even a level of snottiness expected. The drama there is a little high for me, though- hairdressers are very catty and gossipy. And the owners tend to be out of their minds, but that's just a personality type. Any manner of dealing with it is highly contingent on your level of tolerance; for as long as you can take it, of course.

Shit, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I've done everything I can to try and change my attitude into Accomodating and Friendly, and I work hard, I do the best job I can, I don't wait to be told to do something, and I'm a nice coworker. I feel that going any farther down the road into being Exceptionally Brownnosing would conflict deeply with my personal beliefs about entitlement and all the manners of bullshit I believe are the corruption of community life ( don't get me started) and personal growth. Why can't I just have a job where I'm nice, I do my work, I'm able to get things done, I can be friendly, polite, sociable and accomodating, but I am not expected a.) be smiles and leis to everyone when I've got so many irons in the fire my brain is on overload or b.) to hand everyone a cookie just for showing up?

I'm a good person and a good employee. The latter may not have always been so, but I know now that it is, after trial and error through many jobs, and trying to glean as much learning as I can from them. I just clearly don't fit in this arena, and I don't know what else to do to make money so I can you know, move forward into my life and on to better things. ::Sighing::

If anyone has any ideas on what might be a good job for me, lemmee know. At this point, as long as it doesn't involve retail or working in a meat packing plant, I'm open for ideas.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Jessica's Jeopardy Question of the Day, (for $0) : Name the item noted in these popular song titles: "That's What I Want", "Changes Everything", "Is a Drag".

I've been working on my budget all week, and today I made another effort to truly nail down the amount of money I actually expend during a month, nothing spared. Another pass at my financial picture still reveals if I were to:

1.) reduce my monthly dental payments to $180/mo (for 36 -cringe- months, versus the $360/mo for 18 months they'd prefer) and
2.) just get 6 more hours a week at my current job, I could not only save some money for a rainy day ( or crisis),AND I could afford to live like a real person, with a weekly trip to Starbucks, the occasional tube of mascara, and maybe even (gasp!!) an acting class, ( the whole fucking reason I'm bearing this hellhole to begin with).

Without that 6 extra hours, I'm left with a measly $83 a month to put into savings. Which is better than nothing or a stick in the eye, but certainly isn't going to move me any closer to my goals, career-wise. Or happiness-wise. I'll just stay where I am, and hold a pattern. Which frankly, after all I've been through just to get THIS far, isn't sounding too great.


Should I:

a.) go in a beg for 6 addn'l hours ( I haven't even passed my 90 day probabation yet, so the answer to that is likely "not this year")
b.) get a whole new job altogther ( pros: more money, less stress from the fucking computer/math dillemas faced daily? cons: that 20hrs = healthcare benefits that they offer could be helpful down the line when I finally get 20 hrs and/or need to/want to take the leap from govm't helathcare....)
c.) get a second crappy job that I can only work on Fri, Sat, Sun?

Ya know, I really enjoy being an adult. I'm one of those people who liked getting out of their childhood, and getting older, because it came with more freedom and power. Plus, sex is really fun. I LIKE it when the warnings for shows on tv say "adult themes". I actually sometimes go, "YAY!". And really, I've brought so much of the good stuff of my childhood with me, ( like creativity, spontanaeity, fun, silliness, play) that I don't feel I've left anything behind.

And then the trade-off comes, when you realize that work, work, work is pretty much what fills your days, and you've gotta be super lucky to get a job that you actually like and feel fufilled by to make the bills. And if you're reeeeaaalllly lucky, and work hard, you hit it big, where what you love brings in the $$. That's when you start staring out the window from your desk thinking, " Okay, maybe hitting it big is really just for a random few. But is it pointless to long for just a tad bit more? I've never even seen Paris. Or London. I always dreamed of just even being X, and can I even still do anything to get there???" And you start hating every teenager that skates by, because they have all those years in front of them. ( Well, and because they're damned annoying anyway). And you think maybe you ought to do something crazy like getting your nose pierced or another tattoo to shake it up a little, show yourself you're not in a boring rut and facing a future of ennui and existential angst.

At least that's what I do. How about you?

Sunday, February 10, 2008

I don't know what happened, --or rather, I do, since I was there-- I just lost it tonight in the 99 Cent Store parking lot.

I've been having a rather tough go of it in the past 3 weeks- my new job is very stressful, and not paying me enough money. I'm overdue on every imaginable bill,--in the 100s of $$-- plus I have that $6500 dental thing looming. Lately I've been IN the dentist's office 3x a week to get my crowns properly fitted. Yesterday morning and today I woke up in excruciating pain- I'd been grinding my teeth again, and biting down on said new crowns. ( bite guard doesn't come for another month). I've been fighting off this cold and attempting to do so trying to take some weird herbs from the acupuncturist in the office. My adventures in the personals have been very crappy- last week I had to tell someone--politely-- I wasn't interested ( which you think he might have picked up on during the tremendously boring date), and he took it badly, making me feel like an asshole. Two weeks ago a guy I really like turned out to be quite the hissy-fit maker when I wasn't psychic and didn't read his mind that he was havig too much serious job trouble to call me- silly me for thinking he Just Wasn't That Into Me. THIS week I got hit on for a few days by yet another cute guy who turns out to be MARRIED. I'm hitting them out of the park.

SO I guess when that old Latina lady crawled up my ass in the postage stamp sized parking lot and refused to back up when I was trying to back out, and then proceeded to try and yell at me through her side window and direct me by honking every time I got close to her car, I just had had ENOUGH. I put my car in park, got out of it, walked up to her car, and yelled, "LISTEN TO ME! MY CAR DOESN"T HAVE THAT MUCH TURNING RADIUS!! BACK UP!!!"

Too bad she was busy yelling directions at me at the same time or else she might have heard how very, very pissed this white girl was, and would have been prepared for it when I finally managed to eke my way out of the 4" space I had left to try and turn in, and then flipped her off, repeatedly.

I swear to all that is holy, I have never, EVER gotten out of my car before, unless there was some sort of wreck or impact. I rarely flip people off in traffic, as I feel that's a good way to get shot. I do get royally impatient when I drive, but I really don't think that's the issue. I think I'm losing it, and that freaks me out.

Where did I get so much anger and frustration that some minor altercation at the frickin' 99 Cent Store has me getting all up in someone's grill, literally? I don't DO that kind of shiz. I've been known to have a temper, and god knows I'm moody, but this is way outside of Normal Jessie. The last time I got this good and mad was when I found out about Tony pulling his shit, and none of that's going around this time. Maybe I'm just fed up by life, sort of, feeling futile and stupid for trying to keep it all going when everything, somehow feels like it's conspiring against me. I don't know. I just don't know.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

3 Things That Irk Me Right Now:

1.) People at work who come to work sick.

I am now the proud owner of a cold of my very own. Why? Because people at work are sick and come to work. I will now have to go to work sick, and thusly put more people at risk. Everyone just shrugs at it because it's inevitable, things are "making the rounds", and so on. It makes me kinda mad. I'm not mad at people who come to work sick so much as I am mad that they HAVE to, because of there are no sick days offered.

Why, when you work in a SPA and are a professional involved in TOUCHING people for a living, shouldn't you have sick days? (A better question would be why doesn't every employer have sick days, but that rolls into politics, economy and all the rest of it, and that's a long conversation. A valid conversation though: isn't a loss in productivity when you have to hustle up someone to cover a shift when they call in last minute, when if they could take a day or two off without the guilt, such things could be planned a little better? Isn't a loss in productivity to have half your staff out with the same illness? Or your staff working at half-productivity because they feel like crap? Anyway). I happen to think my employer is one of the fairest around, ( he offers medical benefits at 20 hrs a week) and is quite savvy and smart. But as I understand it, they aren't offered sick days. They don't work, they don't make any money. But shouldn't he kick them out if they're really ill? It just doesn't make sense.


2.) This whole Britney situation.

I gotta say, I've never seen such an egregious use of the law before, since the BRILLIANT court of Los Angeles has decided holding her against her will at UCLA Neuropsych Institute ( where I once was under care, thank you) is unneccessary. Having a mental illness myself and being a firm believer in patient rights, I know the system inside and out, and even so, I believe something went terribly awry here. It's always hard to hold someone against their will, but it's pretty uncommon for someone to get released after barely a week when someone else has conservetorship. I can't believe the court-appointed advocate met with her docs and her and walked away saying, "she'll be okay. Let her out. "

I doubt it has anything to do with celebrity; I'd be more ready to say it has more to do with some sort of craptastic decision making by the courts. I'm not sure that her early release makes her dad's conservetorship ability to control her finances, etc. null and void, ( which he could try and use as a lever to get her more help if he were smart) but he cant drag her sorry little ass back to the hospital, that's for sure.

I am totally disgusted by this turn of events, and just had to say, for the record: that girl is going to end up in the hospital one way or another, whether it's in a body bag or because she gets picked up for disorderly behavior/suicide attempt/holding her kid hostage again. She's not well. NOT well. And this sort of thing doesn't end on it's own, all by itself, EVER. I think it's going to be bad. I'm not a gambling person, but I really, really think it's going to be big-time bad, like people-will-be-playing-her-songs-in-a-vigil bad.

It's so upsetting. I'm not a big Britney fan per se ( although I certainly want her to get well), but just watching it all go down for as long as it has and seeing family and doctors rendered powerless and a looming conclusion is awful. I've seen it up close often enough; writ large on a tabloid scale is too much. Too much.

3.) Cell phone, where for art thou?

I'm not one of those people married to my cell phone. I don't use it with such great regularity that I feel like I'm missing a limb when I don't have it with me. I do use it often enough, though, to feel a little strange when I don't have access to it. Right now, I can't seem to recall where, exactly, it is.

I put it down when I came in the door two nights ago, and when I went back for it, it was gone. I looked around the general area, and nothing. What's even worse is that I can't CALL it from the landline to track it down by sound, either. Firstly, because my service is temporarily suspended til I can pay the bill, so it won't ring, and secondly, because even if it could ring, it WOULDN'T, because the battery was running low, and is probably dead by now.

*Sigh* Such a stupid connundrum. !*#$%*!!


That's all for now. I'm sure I'll be back with more irritants to list as soon as I feel better enough to type, or I get tired of daytime tv. That's just the way things have been going lately. What. The hell. Ever.