Step Away From iTunes

So since I'm already on a night schedule, I decided to just go ahead and stay up until I have to take my brother to the airport at six am. I thought it would be fun to finally set up that iTunes account I've contemplated for a while now. And I can't stop buying songs! Embarrassingly enough, the song that made me breakdown and sign up was "How Far We've Come" by Matchbox Twenty, and you know what, I'm not embarrassed! Judge me if you must, but I like Matchbox Twenty, 20, or even, XX. They were my first concert that I chose to go to, (I got dragged to quite a few in my younger years - usually famed country music stars).

Anyway, the point is, I need to get away from iTunes. I keep thinking of songs I want, need, and have to have.

Instead of purchasing songs I've convinced myself I can't live without, I'll tell you how I got a cruel universe joke played on me tonight. I have days when I wake up and feel like I'm going to see a celebrity. Today was one of those days. When I have my day planned out, I just know that probability is higher in some places, and there's a certain ratio that can get my hopes up.

A friend and I went to a resturant in which last time I was there, we saw four celebrities, of various degrees of course. Favorite sighting of that day was Sean Gunn - yes my Gilmore heart always wins out. Anyway, today, nada.

We happened to go by some other places that I would consider high probability, and still nada.

Well, my brother came over tonight and we went to get some dinner in Los Feliz. Well, my little Gilmore-loving heart nearly exploded as a Lauren Graham wanna-be walked in the diner we settled on. Los Feliz and I have a history of these run-ins and this woman was seriously freakily similar to Lauren Graham. Freakily. This woman had a nose (job?) that, if I'm not mistaken, was a replica of LG's nose. Strange thing to notice, but it was that and the hair that had me really thinking it was her. It took me a few seconds of staring before I settled on "No way". What a tease though! That would have been seriously the most amazing thing ever. Worse case scenario, this woman was LG's stand-in or something. It was the strangest thing. I felt like someone was playing a joke on me. I wish I could have gotten a picture but on the slim to none chance it was actually LG, I'm sure flash bulbs make her cagey.

Aliens in America

Okay, first off, I loved it! Seriously! It was funny and endearing and I love the two boys, Dan Byrd and Adhir Kalyan. They are just fantastic.

I recognized the father from a "Sex in The City" episode from back in the day. And when Scott Patterson says the character is a blank slate, he's right. Not that Patrick Breen wasn't good, it's just not a huge part and doesn't have many characteristics that add too much to the show. (And he reminded me a lot of David Sutcliff, which is kinda humorous considering...) I have no idea how SP is going to play the father, but I can't wait to find out. Most importantly, I think he will be able to do it. And do it well.

Anyway, the music was awesome and the mother is awesome. I can't say enough good things. Cherry on top? The principal reminds me a tad bit of Principal Blackman from "Strangers With Candy". The first scene in which you see him, there's a subtle hilarious thing he does that immediately gave me a good feeling about this show.

For as many wonderful things I can say about it, my informed friend believes it's not going to make it. Which is unfortunate on many levels. I hope she's wrong. But for my part, I'll spread the word to tune in October 1st, with the assurance that audiences won't be disappointed. I'm a little sad that it's on The CW, considering the low ratings it will probably get as a result, but hopefully, it will still be able to do well, even if only by CW standards.

Yay for AIA being good! I can totally see why SP was drawn to this project!

(It's hard to review something that you love! There's nothing to gripe about!)

Jezebel James

My blog is finally back up from a brief hiatus caused by an idenity crisis. (My blog's, not mine.) The good news is I'm back with a review of The Return of Jezebel James, aka Amy Sherman Palladino's new show, ahem, sitcom.

I haven't watched a sitcom in so long that I couldn't help but be startled by the laugh tracks and applause at the end. This, of course, is not unusual, but caught me off guard immediately. Then there was Parker Posey. I'm a fan, I like her work, but immediately I felt like I didn't like her as this character. Maybe it's because of the obvious similarities to Lorelai, (from Gilmore girls), where PP just didn't deliver where I knew LG could have. Not fair to compare the two actresses, I know, but it was the natural place my mind went. Why? The chatty-chatty dialogue of course. ASP is back in action with the snappy convos and the quick retorts. Did I think it worked? Honestly? No. Just one humble person's opinion, but it just wasn't carried the same. It seemed like ASP was trying direct Posey exactly towards a classic Lorelai performance in nearly every scene. (Including those infamous sad faces!)

First half of the show, it was cringe after cringe of Gilmore moments, (my personal favorite: when NAI-April showed up). The jokes fell short and I wanted to scream at the audience everytime they 'laughed'--"Stop telling me that was supposed to be funny and that I'm supposed to be laughing!" (First step in improving the show: lose the laugh track!)

Okay, this review is not all bad! I swear! By the end, I was satisfied. Don't know if I'm going to be running home to catch new episodes but it's definitely Tivo worthy. (Rating the pilot on a sliding scale of course.)

My mind started changing for the better midway through, with the appearance of Lauren Ambrose-who is awesome in this show. She makes the cartwheel thing (from the promo) funny! If that's not amazing, I don't know what is!!! For some reason, all the jokes started working. I laughed out loud a few times, and could even start to appreciate some of the characters, who before I had simply found annoying and useless.

But there's a big problem here. And I hate to say it, because I hate negative reviews of things, especially people, but it's clearly a problem. I went in with a clear mind, forgetting about Gilmore and all things previously ASP, but almost immediately it was clear to me that Parker Posey's character was a reincarnated Lorelai. Which, by all accounts, would be great, if only it was pulled off. But it's not. Not even close.

Long story short, Gilmore fans are going to be disappointed I fear. Like I said, the show itself rounded out pretty nicely, but, and this is a major but, somehow, ASP and PP have to get over the Lorelai hump. Everytime I would start to see Sarah, (Parker Posey's character), in her own light, they'd throw something towards me that would remind me of Lorelai. I was fighting them at every turn! This character needs something that's not there now. Something is off with her. She's too theatrical and just, well, kind of annoying. LG made the quick and witty dialogue endearing. The way it is now, Posey makes it seem like how Gilmore girls would sound if someone described it to you without actually watching it. All those people who used the, "I hate the unrealistic banter" excuse for not liking Gilmore girls are going to depise JJ.

A Few Quick Musings

-I was reheating a Subway sandwich the other day when something struck me: Why doesn't Subway bread get hard in the microwave? Seriously! It seems to get softer! What is their special ingredient? Why has this oddity never been publicly speculated about like the secret ingredient in PinkBerry debacle? This info should become public knowledge soon! (Is it cynical for me to wonder if their rolls are in fact just a bread-like substance?)

-Apparently there might be a Gilmore girls movie in a couple of years. This excites me, yes. But in order for it to be successful, I believe it needs to happen relatively soon! Strike while the iron is hot. (Or not cold, rather.) Unfortuntely, after a certain amount of time, the only people that will be interested in this are the hardcore fans. So brains and muscle behind this idea, get to work! "Gilmore girls: The Movie" Summer 2008.

-Good luck Christie! And get back to packing! At least if you're going to procrastinate, call me!

-I like the lyrics, "Laughing at the sunrise, like it's been up all night."

-Unrelated to the lyrics above, I'm totally falling head over heels for The Beatles for the first time in my life. Right now.

-When my pup whimpers in her sleep, I gently rub her back and it settles her. How freaking cute!

-I haven't been able to watch the Veronica Mars SERIES finale just yet. Why do all the shows I love get cancelled? (Studio 60 on top of everything else!) And I know it's typical, but I need to reference an old Friends episode because this reminds me of something that reminds me of Friends. (Follow?) People say that I have Phoebe-esque qualities sometimes. I just remembered that when I was little, everytime I went to my grandparents house it seemed someone died. I remember being paranoid that it was me. [Paranoia.] I told myself that it was a coincidence. [Schizophrenic.] Oh! Reference? When Phoebe is convinced someone dies each time she goes to the Dentist. This storyline inspired one of my favorite Friends lines ever!

When you're alive, you answer your phone!

-A bird flew into my house today! Which only serves to remind me of the lovely weather I've been enjoying lately. (Open windows, you see.)

-I'm tired.

Farewell To A Friend

I started watching Gilmore girls almost two years ago now. I was unemployed after quitting the worst job I've ever had, and my roommate at the time had Seasons 1-3 on DVD. She had always told me that I would enjoy it, but I never really had any inclination to get involved in another TV show.

I am a master at procrastination, especially when it comes to cleaning my room. I told myself day after day during my unemployment that today would be the day I would clean my room. Eventually I realized that that method was not working. I was utterly bored and exhausted from sending out resume after resume, and ultimately decided that I'd give Gilmore a go. As I grabbed the DVDs, I stopped short. I told myself I could only watch the show if I finally cleaned my room. A reward system if you will. Little did I know.

I piled all the clothes from my floor, overflowing from my drawers, wedged behind my bed, fallen in my closet, on the bed in a big heaping pile. I stuck the DVD in my computer and started my journey. From the first scene, I was hooked. About halfway through the episode, I had began keeping up the image of cleaning my room, but slowed considerably. By the second episode, my heaping pile of clothes became a pillow in which I rested my head. Before I knew it, I was putting in disc two, and already was hooked.

By the end of the day, I was almost done with the season. When my roommate got home from work, she couldn't believe the progress I had made. Not so much on my room, mind you. Long story short, I started watching on a Tuesday, (I remember because there was a new episode on that very night), and by Friday night, I was making a late night run to a 24-hour DVD shop to buy season FOUR.

I guess this demonstrates my flaw number two: I'm not so good with the savoring thing. And now, I'll recant something that was once quoted by Andy Warhol. (Give me a break, I went to film school! I don't pray to him or anything, I just think he has interesting things to say.)

I couldn't find the exact quote but it's something along the lines of...'When I get a bag a jelly beans, I eat them all immediately so I don't have to think about them any longer.'...

And that's what I did with Gilmore girls. It was exactly a week before I was completely caught up to season six.

To say that I loved the show would be accurate. To say that I was addicted, would be even more accurate. I had found my new "Friends". For those of you who don't know, I was obsessed with "Friends" to an insane level for much of my teen years. (All?) I have every episode on VHS, complete with the early to late ninties commercials that I treasure almost as much as the actual episodes. I also own all of the DVDs.

Long story, (once again), short, I hadn't had a TV show obsession since "Friends" went off the air. And now, GIlmore was filling that void in my life.

The show is about family relationships, or more than that, people in general. The character in which I was mainly invested in, was Lorelai Gilmore. Single mother, estranged from her parents, living in a small, quirky town she calls home. She left her parents high-class world to start a new life for her and her daughter. The show was funny and touching and filled with a fair-share of drama. We followed these characters through everything. Lorelai through finding her independence, opening her own business, trying to reconnect with her parents, finding love. And Rory, through high school and college, her first kiss, first felony, losing her virginity, her first major relationship.

These people became fixtures in my life, be in the town-loon Kirk, or the hunky diner owner Luke. Every character has a place inside my heart.

The one relationship on the show that I treasured the most, (and that initially caught my attention), was that of Luke and Lorelai. They went from friends to lovers during the span of the show. We watched for four seasons, close call after close call, until finally, finally, they kissed. Fans rejoiced around the world as these two finally got it together.





Now those are the facts, now let me tell you my feelings for the show.

I knew from the start that Luke and Lorelai were eventually going to get together. I think that's what made me want to keep going through the DVDs initially. I mean, it was a great show, but the anticipation of them finally figuring out was killing me. I was waiting and waiting for their big moment. And when they finally got together, the wait was totally worth it. They have so much chemistry, their banter and quick wits were a perfect match. I was invested in this couple. They were my new Chandler and Monica.

This show has my heart, and the couple of Luke and Lorelai will forever be held close to my memory. Even if my wait wasn't as long as real-time viewers was, the build-up was great. All the close calls, and then ultimately, them finally finding each other, or finally opening their eyes.

For two years I've watching, and unfortunately, suffered through their most recent break-up. At the end of season six, the show's creator left, with a mess in her wake. This can be argued, but I believe that Amy Sherman-Palladino purposefully threw her show in a tailspin once her contract was not renewed. I think that she created the biggest mess possible, and then left the sinking ship.

Season six ended with Lorelai in Christopher's, (Rory's absentee father's), bed. Disastrous. ASP tossed the grenade on her way out of the door. But I went into the seventh season optimistic. That's the worst it will get right? Right?!?

Wrong. Not that David Rosenthal, the replacement for ASP, did a horrible job, because I do think he did an alright job, it's just he went a little too far in his attempts to releastically solve the problems put in place by Amy. Sure, right off the bat his writing wasn't up to par-but it was a valiant effort. And it was acceptable given the circumstances. Yes, Gilmore wasn't the same, but for the fans who wanted to see these characters carry-on, it was what we had to deal with. I, personally, was okay with that.

I was okay with Lorelai wanting to give it a go with Christopher. I understood that in order to make the bed jumping the slightest bit realistic, we had to see that there was still possibly something there. We had to see that underneath her fascade of happiness, she was lonely and sad and utterly lost. And Lorelai leaned on Christopher.

It was the ill-fated marriage that I completely despised. It was the sugarly-sweet, laid on too thick, "romantic" weekend in Paris that disturbed me to the core. It was the way that Christopher and Lorelai exchanged the "I love you"s like they were tic tacs, and the PDAs, like it was in Lorelai's nature to do so. Although disastrous and disgusting, at the very least I thought we'd finally get a chance for Lorelai, and more importantly Rory, to finally get closure with this man. The Christopher and Rory scenes were sparse and utterly meaningless. Lorelai didn't as much as give Christopher one harsh word in even the most heated of arguements about his unreliability with their daughter. Or her disappointment of the way the past had gone down.

Neither of the two of them questioned their ill-timed romp in the sack after Lorelai abruptly ended her engagement. Surprisingly, it was never mentioned again. Chris didn't as much as question his own actions, that were at-best, ungentlemanly. Lots of these little moments that could have made it all worth it, were tossed to the side. Instead of letting this relationship develop the characters and bring these family relationships to some sort of closure, the audience instead got a meaningless attempt at a relationship that had proven in the past to be futile. There was no substance and all these thought-provoking idiosyncrasies that could have been addressed, were left untouched.

After fourteen exhausting episodes, holding my breath waiting for the reason behind all of the madness to be revealed, the relationship was over. Fourteen episodes out of twenty-two, what we now know as the last twenty-two episodes, were wasted, err, spent on this relationship building up to a mind-bending nowhere, and then, as expected, falling apart.

And where were we then? Back where we began. What a waste of time and energy and if closure is what they were seeking, then they failed immensely. I'm no closer now to feeling like Lorelai is done with him for good, as I was at the end of season six.

For all the horribleness that was that relationship, when it was over, we started getting back to a good place. It took a couple episodes just for the residue alone to wear off and for me actually to remember that I love these characters, but around episode seventeen, I felt like we were back. Gilmore girls was back. The writing had improved by this time, but I had been so busy covering my ears for all the "I love you"s and holding back the wretches at every hint of physical contact between the two of them, which I may add, was far, far too much, (especially considering the amount we got in the two years of Luke and Lorelai's relationship), to even notice.

But finally, it was tolerable again. And that's the worst part unfortunately. Because as fate would have it, it was during this time that we found out that there would be no season eight.

To a friend who shared my sadness upon this development, I compared it with omelets. You're starving. You sit down and get the delicious looking omelet. You take a bite, and it's great. It's then swept away and replaced with a disgusting omelet that smells fishy. You suffer through a few bites and then, your original omelet is replaced. By this time, you're so excited, it just tastes THAT much better. Then, the resturant closes, and after two bites, they sweep your plate away, informing you that you're done. You had just gotten your appetite back!

It's sad folks. Sad indeed. There was a lot of hope going on in my heart until this was announced. I thought that a season eight would be okay. I thought that it would bring Gilmore to the conclusion it deserved. The last few episodes were fantastic and felt like old-Gilmore. The new writers had finally got the hang of it, and Christopher was gone to-boot!

Well, it's been a disappointing journey these last two years. For fans, it's been hit after hit. But overall, we wanted to see these characters continue. They still had a lot of life left in them. The Luke and Lorelai story, that we had been assured would happen from the beginning, was far from over.

The finale was better than expected. I will say that. Most of the stories left me feeling satisfied. The one I had a problem with though, was perhaps the most important to me, and the closest to my heart. Luke and Lorelai kissed in the finale, yes, and maybe the promise of them together forever wasn't possible given the time restrictions, but it left me a little cold. The line, "Take all the time you need" didn't make sense to me, and given the characters histories, I feel like it would have been more poignant coming from Lorelai. Their moment in the diner, fell falt for me and I didn't feel like, "This is it" for them. Although some fans claim they saw it, I didn't even see a meaningful look between them. Not one that would reassure me that they were back. They barely exchanged two words, and given all that they had been through the last year and a half, I felt like it wasn't sufficient. I also felt the Luke and Lorelai fans were cheated on this ending. Mainly for the reasons above, but also for the mere fact that their reunion kiss was cut short with a tilt up over the town square. Just a look between them after the kiss would have been nice.

My disappointment with the Luke and Lorelai conclusion does taint the ending of this show for me, but in my imagination, it will, and has to, live on.

But now, exhausting all my words, I say goodbye to a show that brought me so much. It shaped my life for two years and every Tuesday, placed me in front of my television in hopeful anticipation.

I will forever love the Gilmore girls, but now, it's time to say goodbye. Farewell my friend! I will miss you!

Disappointment (You Darn Spoiled Brat)-Take 2

I'm through all the stages of grief. You witnessed anger in Lost. A walk around the block took care of the rest. Now I'm at acceptance. Begrudged acceptance.

Someone in the blogosphere did not like what I wrote in my other blog. They refused to post it. In fact, they went to such great lengths to ensure my epic post would never be read, they disconnected my internet at the exact moment I was trying to post. Now I wonder if I should rewrite at all. Of course I will, or attempt to recreate my well-crafted post, but it hurts. I'm at a loss when I get the window that says so nonchalantly, "We're sorry, but we were unable to complete your request."

Oh yeah? Excuse me while I jump out of the window. Pressing "Back" did nothing as well, and didn't there used to be a "Recover" button somewhere? Well not anymore, you fine folks. Not anymore.

What do professionals do in such a humbling moment? Cry? Is it okay to cry and weep? Because I want to cry and weep. Is nausea normal?

Where did I begin before? Oh yeah, disappointment. Ironic, eh?

Disappointment. Well, I didn't get that job I had so badly wanted. Who cares if I thought I had nailed the interview. Obviously, they didn't. This was the event that threw off my day yesterday. And it was supposed to be the best day ever.

"You never get a job after your first interview, Betsy."

"There will be other jobs, Betsy."

"It'll work out for the better, we just can't see it yet, Betsy."

I am lucky enough to have beautiful people in my life that can see the positive when I only see the negative. Everyone needs those people. I usually am one of those people. But not when it's my phone that doesn't ring.

My phone not ringing takes me back to a short thing that I wrote years ago. "I Know Why My Phone Doesn't Ring". It takes me back to my youthful woe-is-me phase.

I know it seems silly that I'm so upset about not getting this job. And I know that I said I wasn't expecting to get it. But I am and I was. I thought I had done it. Surpassed the whole starting from scratch thing that people have been telling me I'm probably going to have to do. And this only heightens the anger I have towards myself at screwing up that other perfectly good opportunity and greatens the embarrassement I feel, when I said that maybe screwing up the other job, that that was for the better after-all.

A learning experience I suppose. You can feel like you got the job, but it doesn't mean you did. I can't help but analyze my resume and every word spoken in the interview, finding my flaws that the not-so-potential employer did.

So my evening was disappointing. And why am I a self-proclaimed brat you ask? Because I let that ruin a great opportunity I had. Well sort-of.

****PLEASE DO NOT COPY AND PASTE ELSEWHERE****

I got to go to the WB Lot to visit a friend that is currently working on a show there. Sure it would be great to see her at work, but it was no secret that I had Gilmore on the brain.

I got on the lot, no problem. They had my name and gave me a little visitor pass that I immediately stuck in my pocket for safe-keeping. I got to set and she gave me a tour. They had just broken for lunch and she was going to give me a quick little tour before she had to go back. She had on all her equipment, so it was pretty clear she was working. Hence, we had no problems exploring otherwise not-so-visitor-friendly places. She first took me to the old Friends stage, which, since being torn down, offered little to no nostalgia. It was very cool though. Then we went to the stages of Gilmore. Only a few art department people were around and my friend entered without a second thought. I was glad she was assertive, as I kept wondering, "Are we supposed to be here?"

We looked around, seeing the Gilmore Mansion and Rory's apartment, filled with boxes labeled with stuff like "Clothes", "Books", and "Kitchen". My friend walked me towards where someone was working and I noticed he was painting a "Bon Voyage Rory" sign.

Anyway, we walked around some more and finally made our way to the back-lot. Again, my friend surprised me with her audacity, as people were everywhere setting stuff up for what seemed to be something taking place around, or maybe in, Luke's. It was here we saw Alexis Bledel. She ate her lunch alone, at a table by Luke's and seemed a little unhappy. I'm sure this was nothing more than just being tired at work, (as we've all experienced), and still having a long night in front of her. Other than a glance in her direction, we left her alone.

It was time for my friend to get back to set so she could practice the Steadicam. This is where, if anyone was on the tour yesterday, (Thursday, April 5), you may have seen me! Woo! A couple of tours stopped by us and my friend, who was wearing the Steadicam, demonstrated a little bit. Hello to anyone who might have stopped!

After she was called back in, I was left to my own devices. I watched them shoot a little bit, but then made my way back to the back lot. They had finished shooting at Luke's and were moving to what seemed to be either the Gilmore house or Sookie's house. There were lots of black tarps, as it wasn't dark yet, so I couldn't make out exactly what they were doing.

While on my bench, Lauren passed by on her bike, twice! I was trying be nonchalant, like I wasn't jumping up and down to catch a glimpse of her. I was text messaging, or pretending to, and looked up at her, smiling at her for a second pretending like I hadn't known it was her all along. Well, she looked a little uphappy as well. Same syndrome as Bledel probably. Her's also seemed to be a defense mechanism, as to ward off anyone from talking to her. It worked in my case. I got to see her again, so that was cool, but in my head, she was supposed to stop and talk to me, inviting me to come watch them shoot. Yeah, I know I'm demented. Honestly, I really just wanted her to smile or something. Because I had fantasized about my time on the lot so much, it was easy to be disappointed. But geez, all I got was a glare. (And yikes was it a glare! Daggers people. Daggers.) Yipee.

I was trying my best to stay out of the way, but I couldn't help but feel like everyone was looking at me, wondering who I was and what the hell I was doing invading their set. It made me feel pretty uncomfortable, but I held my ground, just hoping to be able to stick around long enough for the shot that they were setting up for next. There was going to be something happening in the town square. Lots of Christmas lights, thousands, and lights on the tops of all the buildings shining downwards. If I could just hold out a little longer!

By this time, it was clear I hadn't gotten aforementioned job, as I had been waiting for the phone call all evening. I was down about that, my head had holes from the daggers (as did my heart), and I couldn't help but be disappointed that in my other searchings of the lot, I hadn't run into Matthew Perry, thereby not being able to put my "asking for a light" plan into action.

"You wouldn't happen to have a light would you?"

"Sure do."

(He lights my cigarette.)

"Thanks. I'm Betsy."

"Hi Betsy. I'm Matt. You work here?"

"No, I'm just waiting for a friend to get off of work."

"Oh cool. Have you been having a nice time?"

"Yeah. I was watching them film Gilmore earlier, but felt I was in the way so I left."

"Oh I'm sure you weren't. Everyone's so busy and we're used to having visitors here. Are you a fan of the show?"

"Yeah, Gilmore is definitely one of my favorites."

(Here, he would proceed to tell me a funny story about him and Lauren, in which I would laugh and my little fan heart would explode.)

"So is Studio 60 coming back?"

"Yeah, for now. We'll see if it's got a second season in it."

"Well, I for one love the show and think it has a great future."

"Tell that to the damn studios." (In my head, the conversation would be a success if he curses at least once. I think celebrities cursing around you often mean they trust you. Or so I've come to believe.)

Etc, etc, etc.

Yeah, so that didn't happen. (Expectations people. They'll kill you.) And I was starving and self-conscious as a light was turned on that made my otherwise well-hidden bench, a direction of focus. I walked around a little more, seeing a few ER doctors and such, and passing by Lauren's "Star Waggon" in a random strike of luck. Not that I saw anyone there, but I recognized her bike. In my journeys, I went back to my friend's set, dropping off my bag, as to look like less of a visitor. Of course, I walked back to the back lot, still anticipating the scene in which I figured they'd be shooting next.

An hour or two went by, and I was feeling pretty bad at this point, seeing as the closest I had come to seeing them shoot was hearing them say, "Cut" and "Action", I hadn't gotten my job and would therefore have to ask my parents for some help, was hungry and tired, and had stood up one of my friends who had needed help with a casting session. I decided to cut my losses and leave.

Sure, had I stayed I would have seen more, but the way this day was going, I wouldn't have been able to see much. My head would have gotten in the light, casting a shadow over the entire square, during the print take, and the actors would all glare at me as they would have to redo their performance of a lifetime. That or, I probably would have been shooed away or caused a ruckus by passing out from hunger during a shot.

Luck apparently isn't always on my side, or it was time for it to run out at least. As I say this, I am reminded of the "brat" part of the title. I got to visit the set, which is awesome. I had free reign and saw both of the Gilmore girls. I know that the job thing is, and was, putting a damper on my spirits, but I can't help but be a little disappointed.

I felt bad when I said bye to my friend who have given me such a great opportunity. I was down and she noticed. I assured her it was the job thing, which rewarded me with a nice pep talk that I so desperately wanted to believe.

"One door closes...."

But it was a great time and opportunity, and I can't help but be so mad at myself for letting the job thing get to me so much! I should be estactic right now! Gilmore! Favorite show! Woo!

Go ahead...tell me how stupid I am. I know it's true. But expectations suck and I'm slowly learning to have less of them.

I hate going out on a bad note.

Woo! Gilmore!!

A Blood Curling Scream Perhaps?

What will you dream of tonight? A sunny day by the beach, or a kiss with a loved one? Maybe a beautiful spring day with imagery provided by a friend. If you're lucky, you may even dream about your Academy/Grammy/Nobel Peace Prize/Booker Prize award winning moment. Me? Well funny you should ask. I'm pretty sure my dreams are going to contain the blood-curling scream that just echoed throughout my neighborhood a few minutes ago. I'm writing this blog to rid myself of them, but as of yet, no such luck.

I'm standing in the yard with my dog, who's quite enjoying running away from me as I try to usher her inside. Now, I'd go as far to say that I f'in love having a backyard. Love it! And I love that there's only one way out that I have to guard so she doesn't go for the hills, quite literally. But, you see, I have to guard it. So when she's back there playing, I'm pretty immobilized. Because as fun as the her-not-coming-to-me-when-I-call-her thing we have going on must be for her, it's pretty dangerous when you start dealing with major roads that I live very close to. Oh, and she ain't afraid of no cars. Huh! (Must be sung with the fervor of Ghostbusters.)

Here I am, standing in my spot, letting her do her thing, which seems to be sniffing a spot for minutes upon minutes until I call for her, in which she runs the opposite direction, not skipping a beat, finding a new area to sniff until the process repeats. I keep convincing myself that she doesn't need a leash, but everytime, without fail, I get to the fifteen minute mark and my temper starts to flare a bit. Like shit or get off the grass for real dog. And trying to get her to go inside is impossible, so I'm forced to stand in my spot, or within a five foot radius of my spot, until she feels like moseying on back towards the house. I might have a higher blood pressure, but I'm trying to let her enjoy having a backyard for the first time in what seems to be forever. But she doesn't listen, and as much as I try to train her with treats and goodies, if there's no treat, she's not coming.

There I was, and all of the sudden I hear this horrific scream, a girl no less, screaming, "Help me! Oh god, pleasssseeeee, someone help me!" I'm not joking and I'm not laughing, and if it was some actor practicing their lines or some kids playing a joke, it was not funny because I'm still reeling from this.

So I hear this scream and in my head, I have two choices. I can stay put, try and usher the pup in (which would likely take hours) and then go call 911, or I could race up the stairs, leaving the one exit open and potentionally allowing my dog to escape to the chicken bone buffett she must think exists somewhere beyond our yard. What would you do? I mean this scream was the most heart-wrentching, desperate cry I've ever heard. Ya'll, I never say ya'll so this needs to have some impact here, it was horrific.

I couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it was at least two blocks away. I felt absolutely useless. A car scooted by, pretty fast but not abnormally so. I took a mental picture just in case, and in my head I saw a terrified girl sitting in the front passenger seat looking at me and silently asking with big, sad eyes, "Why aren't you doing anything?"

I'm haunted because I reasoned that surely someone closer had to of heard. Someone who knew where it was coming from and damn, i'm making excuses but I didn't do it. I remained rooted to the ground as I could feel the guilt build in my body and the weights on my shoulders.

I started fervently trying to get unresponsive pup inside, and finally did so after pretending to go up the stairs myself. But I didn't go right away and make the day-saving phone call. I feel like I let humanity down, but I was torn with what-ifs and could-I-really-make-a-difference-right-nows. Surely someone else heard. Isn't that what people always say, and that's why no one helps anyone anymore?

I'm just sick, sick to my stomach as it bounces around, that scream, that terrifying scream, just bounces around in my head. I heard some sirens a few minutes later, and plan on giving a car description tomorrow, but i just feel so bad and know that my immobility is going to cause me great stress.

Worst part? I'll never know. I'll never know what happened to that poor girl because this is Los Angeles, and bad stuff happens so much, that it rarely makes the news. The news here all seems to be a bust here and a new building there. Actor did this and fatal car accident there. You rarely hear about the stuff that must happen all the time here, like the shootings and the robberies. It's terrifying to think that it's so common, it doesn't even make the news anymore. And I think this because I've looked. After my shooting detours, I watched the news religiously to see what had happened, and nothing. Not even a blurb.

So there. There is what is going to haunt me tonight. Knowing that somewhere near me, something bad happened to someone and I couldn't do anything.

Moving on? Can I move on from that? Is that too heavy to follow with good news? It'll take my, and your, mind off of it, so here we go.

Tomorrow, big day. I'm eating lunch with a friend on the WB Lot and after lunch will have free reign to tour what I wish. And I wish to tour. So that's exciting. Also, I find out if I get the job I interviewed for! (Awesome!) Yes, I got an interview. For reality tv, but hey, it's a gig, and it pays well, and it's an editing job, not an assistant job, so really, what is there to complain about? It's actually perfect for me. And I want it, and I will keep you posted because wow, I find out tomorrow. Life changing people. LIfe changing.

(Speaking of life changing...) My blonde roots are growing in far faster than I ever thought possible. I'm going to need a touch up soon or I'm seriously going to be two-toned, which isn't all that cute.

My dog and I have a strange night ritual where she gets in bed first, when I lay down, if I as much as graze her with my foot or move her covers, she's off of the bed and huffs like I just woke her up as Tramp was feeding her a meatball or something. Then I take reign of the bed and make myself cozy, until that is, I remember I didn't set my alarm clock. Or my computer is dying and I have to plug it in. Or I left the light on. But I have to get up. Almost every night when I'm going to sleep, it's my strange and twisted habit. I always have to get up to do or get something. Dog then jumps up to exactly where my body was and curls up, refusing to move, stubborn and unmovable. It's times like these, where I try and contort my body as to not disturb her, when I wonder why I allow my dog to take over my bed every single night. I'm a guest in my own bed! Pshaw you guys. Pshaw. Then she cuddles me and gives me her little tired eye face, and my bottom lip sticks out as I gently pet her head.

Now seriously, eyes drooping and no aforementioned horrific-ness at the forefront, so I'm going to bed.

You guys be safe out there.

Since I've Lived In LA...

I arrived on the west coast roughly twelve days ago, Monday, March 19th. It is now the first of April, officially I guess, but it's the night of the 31st. I can't say the first week (plus) has been uneventful. In fact, I've seen and done and experienced more in these past few days than I ever expected I would. So officially, I've gone through every emotion possible. I've been horrified, exuberant, scared, confident, happy, uncomfortable, nervous, stupid. I've felt important, felt like a nobody, felt like I was out of place, felt like I was exactly in the right place.


++Mini Chapter 1: It's all fun and games until somebody gets SHOT++

That's right, shot. So here I was, loving LA, thinking it's heaven on earth. I felt comfortable here, conforted here. It felt like a vacation. And I'm riding around with one of the many crazy drivers that I've riden with since my arrival, and we are cruising down Sunset, after a horrific dinner mentioned in Mini Chapter 3. The dinner may have been bad, but the ride was great. Wind through my hair, a beautiful night. Being able to see the scenery instead of riding through a dark tunnel after waiting 30 minutes for a subway car that smells like urine. Oh, the difference a 3,000 mile drive makes.

Well, the important part of the story is that I was in a great place. I didn't know what people could possibly not like about this place. And then I see the flares. Traffic is stopped and cop cars are blocking our way through. I think to myself that that must be some nasty accident if they've blocked off three (give or take) blocks of Sunset, inarguably a main drag through Hollywood.

I turn to my friend and oh-so innocently ask, "You think it's an accident?"

He responds nonchalantly, "It looks like somebody got shot or something."

Shot?

This is when my mind tells me that, duh, I'm in LA, and that's when it registers. It's not all fun and palm trees and sand and famous people. People get shot here. Lots of people. And car-jacked and murdered. Shot. Guns everywhere. That guy there? On the corner? He's probably packing heat, and I visibly squirm in my seat. The rest of the night, when I'm forced to walk two dark, lonely blocks to my car, my shoes click Phoebe-style. Do-n't get shot, do-n't get shot.

And then icing on the cake, tonight, as I'm driving home from a social event, I get two blocks from my street and I see those damn flares again. No kidding. Right in front of my street. A cop blocks the road, and horrifically, I sigh at the annoyance of having to go residental streets the rest of the way home. (LA has hardened me already.)

I know what you are probably thinking. "Didn't you live in New York?" Shouldn't I already be hardened? Well no. That's not really the case. You see, New York is big in a different way than LA. You see where you walk, and that's about it. Above the ground, you don't end up covering very much ground. LA, you're all over the place in any given day. A lot more ground is covered and there's a much larger opportunity for you to see the evil around you. Also, NY looks like it's dangerous. On the filthy streets and people-packed avenues, something bad going down isn't all that surprising. But here, here where the streets are lined in palm trees and sweet tarts, you don't expect to see these things. But, I did. And apparently, subconsciously, already learned to not be surprised at the inconvience. I'll have to start factoring in shooting detours into my travel time.


++Mini Chapter 2: Celebrity Sightings++

That Paris Hilton girl sure gets around. In two consectutive nights, I've been stopped by a flashlight holding police officer, trying to stop traffic so Paris Hilton's car can pull out onto the road so the paparazzi can stop with the flashbulbs already. The first night was the best, as I was the first car stopped, (front row seats), as she jumped in her convertible, (that's a great way to avoid the cameras), and be-bopped in the front seat. My roommate's sister was in the car and had been talking about seeing Paris Hilton since she had arrived. (I guess I'll have to start factoring in being stopped my the paparazzi into my travel time as well. No wonder it takes so long to get places here!) And all this after...

...THE MOST AMAZING THING EVER. What is more amazing than seeing Paris Hilton be-bop in a convertible as she gets hundreds of photos taken of her? Me seeing my number one lady. Lauren freaking Graham, minus the freaking respectively. My number one. The number one. You know, the person who you hope you're going to see, but know that it won't happen for no other reason than you wanting it so badly. And she was the, count it, second famous person I saw. In my first week. And it was completely random. Is there such a thing as meant to be? Because if so, this experience told me that I was "meant to be" here. That's for sure. On with the story...

I'm sitting in a bar with some friends from college. We had planned this get together for Friday evening, but after a different, and unchangable party appeared on our schedule, we bumped it to Thursday night instead. Act of fate number one. Said Friday night party was cancelled, and though we toyed with changing it back to Friday, we decided that we'd stick with Thursday so the place wouldn't be so crowded. Act of fate number two. The place is not crowded at all. And I'm sitting in a booth. I choose the booth instead of the wall-facing wooden chairs because primarily, I was wearing low rise jeans and would be less likely to not show off my underwear by sitting against the wall. (Act of fate number three?) Sublime is on, and I remember this clearly because as Sublime is one of my favorites, I always make mental notes of bars that put them on their mixes. Ten times out of ten, I'll love the bar if this is the case. So I smile at the music, and a couple walks towards the back, where we are sitting. They walk past us, and this is when, I swear, things click into slow motion. Her face is clear to me. The profile, and she is laughing at something the unidentified man is saying, and her arm is in his, and she looks so different, and I swear that my jaw had to of been on the floor. Just so unexpected. I wasn't prepared. I stare. Just stare like I have no manners at all. She doesn't even glance at us, and I know this because I watch until she goes throught the doorway to the hall, and continue watching the doorway until I am snapped out of my slow-motion stupor by my friend who leans over excitedly, "Did you see that?"

I don't even know what to say. I'm stumped and I think I sit in silence for five whole minutes before I realize that I should say hello. This is usually a move I don't like to make, talking to a celebrity while they are trying to lead a normal life, but I had to make an exception here. The Laws of the Universe say that I wasn't supposed to see her. She's my number freaking one. How did this happen, to me, the most unlucky, "you just missed the coolest thing ever", person in this world? It would never happen again. Lightning doesn't strike twice. So I should say hey. For the universe. But as I go to stand, I can't balance because I'm still so shocked. I finally stand and walk towards the hallway she went down, towards the bathroom and valet parking. I go to the bathroom, take a deep breath, and enter. Empty. Damn. I walk the rest of the hallway, and nothing. A few doors for either secret celebrity hang-outs or the much more likely, janitor closets. And then the back door. I pick up my pace and open the door, thankful no one was one the other side as they probably could sue me for a broken nose. It swings open to no one. Nothing. A parking lot with a lonely valet man bouncing a ball up and down and up and down. She had gotten away. It didn't wipe the smile from my face though. I didn't care. I had seen her. In real life. She did exist. And she was happy and seemed so carefree and I had seen her in my first week of living here.

Pure unadulterated exhilaration.

And then there was also that Sharon Osbourne thing too!


++Mini Chapter 3: It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it.++

How do you rationalize going out a lot while you're unemployed and broke? Networking. Yes. It is a hard job, but a very necessary one. So socially, I've had an exciting time. Meeting people, and going to my friend's sets, and bars and clubs and such.

Last night we actually went to a LA strip club. Yes, a strip club where ladies dance for the money. A bikini one sort of, I guess. No one got completely stripped down anyway. I thought it was a joke when my friend pulled in, and maybe it was, but we went. And I got to sit across from a guy who, had I seen him on the street, I'd have been very attracted to. I watched his face in horror as he watched these girls. These girls shaking their butts directly in his face while he drooled. Literally drooled. And then I felt bad for being the girl in the strip club who was there watching people who were there to watch, so I stopped looking the guys, and focused my attention on the girls. Their shoes mainly, because there's nothing more uncomfortable than trying not to be disrespectful by not looking at a person's, ahem, money-maker. If that makes sense. It's like, you're supposed to be watching them dance, and you don't want to avoid the whole stage because that is rude in this weird way I can't explain, but really, it's nothing too interesting to look at. Not to mention I feel bad googling, or I feel like I'm googling by looking at all. And I just hope that they like what they do and don't do it to feed their kids or something. So I focused on the boots. The tall, ridiculous boots. And some of the dance moves that they used. Just a strange thing.

One girl really impressed me when she climbed the pole to the ceiling. It was pretty impressive and I had to give her props! That had to be difficult. And she has to look graceful too. I can't do a pull-up with a smile. Must less, climb a pole in six inch heels, doing it so it appears that you are a graceful and gentle creature, still smiling at the people below. No grimace. Nothing. When this dancer was done with her routine, someone snuck out of the shadows and threw what had to have been one hundred single dollar bills onto the stage. At first, I was like, good for her. Then she started picking up her money and I got sad. (Sad at a strip club. Only a woman.) She was crawling. The purpose of the dollars is so the person can get a peep show as she picks up the money he throws at her. It felt so primordial to me. These guys being like "here's my money, now pick it up woman. And oh yeah, it's in ones so have fun with that. I'll just watch." I hated that.

After that uncomfortable experience, we decided to try and get into a roped off club near Sunset. It's three of us girls and one guy. He walks up to one of the ropes and slyly says to the guy, "I've got three women with me." Amazingly, he tells us to wait at the side as people stand in this line, waiting to get in. Then he opens the rope for us and we get to go right in. Awesome.

Tonight I was invited to a "house party in the hills" where there was sure to be "hundreds of people". I go to my friends apartment, and she says that it will be impossible for me to find parking and to just put on my flashers and E brake, because this hill was more like a vertical mountain, and to come up and hang out. I had never seen such a large hill before in my life. We never had stuff like this in good ol' NC or NY.

When we go to the party, parking is ridiculous. There's one spot on the hill that is probably the exact length of my car, give a couple of inches. Now I have a new car so I'm not so great a judging it yet. And this spot was on a hill, (going up), and a curve. So this is not an easy parking spot. It's very apparent why it's still open. My friends insist I can do it. So with the assistance of a bear, (or my friend in a bear costume), I inch my way in, trying only twice before successfully, (yes successfully), getting into the spot. Without as much as tapping the other cars. I was impressed myself. They crowned me and we went to the party. Which was huge, but nothing to write home about. (The parking was much more interesting.) Although, I did see a guy I had gone to school with and when I asked him what he was doing now, he shuffled his feet and mumbled something. "What?" I ask. "I'm in the paparazzi." I laugh so hard, I get light-headed. Paparazzi??? I knew a guy in the paparazzi? I tell him I kinda hate his people. And he's so ashamed, but defends it by saying he only has to do it for a couple of months to load up on some money. These guys make BANK. In fact, when he tells me how much he is making, it silences my laughs and I consider if I could run fast enough while successfully working a camera.

Also, last week my friend was working on a show and invited me to have lunch with her. Who was I to say no to an offer like that! I get onto the studio no problem but then I don't know where to park. I look around and all the spots seem to be numbered. So I park in one of these spots and make my way to a security guard. I ask him where I should park and he points down to a spot with a smile. "Go between those two cars and that way you'll be exactly where you need to be." I thank him and return to my car. As I approach the spot, I see that all of these spots have names on them. The one he had directed me to said, "WB Ranch VIP Parking". Hells yes! (There's always something nice about being called a VIP.) People walking by mistake me for someone important. I smile confidently and get out of my car.

When I get to set my friend starts introducing me to people. She introduces me to one guy who is a director. We start talking and joking around. They seem to get along very well, talking about mixed cds and such, and I chime in with telling him his shirt is, "very LA". He laughs and welcomes me to LA. As he walks away, his name swirls in my head and I wonder where I had heard it before. Then it hits me that he was the director for the Veronica Mars pilot! Awesome! I had just made the director of the VM pilot laugh. Extremely cool. What was up with me having such good luck here?


++Mini Chapter 4: Now if only that luck could come through for me getting a job.++

I made the mistake that every single "getting a job" seminar warns you not to make. I got too cocky and ruined my chances at a job before I even had it. (Or so I think.) You're at least supposed to do the interview first! People started telling me I should forego assisting and go straight for the editing jobs since I was an editor in NY. I'm young and typically people my age get the assistant jobs. But I'm applying for everything, as I just wanted to see what I could get. Within a day of my job searching I hear back for an assistant job on reality tv, (something I would rather avoid, but it seems inevitable.) Through email, I try to keep him interested while I wait and see if I hear back from any of the other gigs. And then he calls...

My phone shows a LA number that I don't recognize so immediately, I answer. It's the reality guy. He asks me if I'm interested and I assure him I am. He asks what kind of job I'm looking for, and I hmm and haw stupidly saying that I don't know yet. He asks if I'm looking for an editing gig or assistant one. Again, like a fool, I say I'm waiting to see what's out there. Somehow sounding like I'm passing on this job. I tell him I've been here only for a day so I'm just testing the waters. Doh! He says he'll get back to me if anything comes up, and thereby probably removing me from the running for this particular job. I try not to beat myself up too much, that is until I get a call from my friend who says she had just gotten an assistant job on a reality tv show and is looking for night assistants. We chat and as it turns out, her boss, and the guy who would effectively hire me to be HER assistant, is the one I spoke on the phone with. Yes, small stupid world indeed. I hear the pay, and the fact that I'd be working with my friends, and want it. Need it. It would pay the bills and every other lead I had gotten, turned up dry.

I tried to back petal in my email to him, cursing myself that now I was begging for a lower position, (figuring he had probably been wanting me for the position my friend got-a day position with better pay). Yikes. These things do come back to haunt you. Still waiting to hear about that one...


++Mini Chapter 5: Driving++

Oh driving in LA has been interesting. My first trip to the freeway, after my cross-country trip of course, landed me lost in the middle of somewhere. Trying to make it to Burbank, I finally give up after thirty minutes of not finding the 101. I call my friend with my tail between my legs, and find my way there. On the way back, I have no problems, which is impressive only because it was rush hour, I had no map, and my second destination was somewhere else I had never been. Some how, some way, I get there rather quickly. Only after seeing one car accident happen, (a woman rear-ending a not so pleased man because a car pulls out in front of her, causing her to have to slam on brakes.)

I also tried to venture into Beverly Hills one afternoon, getting there fine, but when I tried to return home, I ended up in Santa Monica. I got the feeling I had gone the very wrong way.

I've been riding with my roommate, who has lived in LA for almost two years now, and effectively said my Hail Mary's about seventeen times. (She wasn't even that great of a driver in NC, and this is self-proclaimed.) Hail Mary's also came into play when another of my crazy-driving friends decides one night to take me on Muholland. Muholland, if you don't know, cuts across the top of the mountain. Beautiful, gut-wrentching views. I felt like every turn should have been labeled, "Dead Man's curve". I saw my death like five times on that trip.

A couple nights ago, we saw a freshly-hit fire hydrant. With water shooting so far into the sky, I couldn't really even tell where it stopped. The street was flooding so fast, you would think that it had been raining in LA for weeks. Which was obviously not the case, as I had witnesses LA burning to the ground earlier in the day...(nice segue-way Thompson).


++Mini (and last) Chapter 6: Why do I get the feeling this is going to be blamed on me?++

We're driving back from Ikea on a highway with a clear view of the hills. I see a billowing smoke cloud and show the others. It's huge. Freaking unbelievably huge. Never in my life had I seen a smoke cloud this big. My friend calls her boyfriend who works near where the fire appeared to be coming from. She asked him what was on fire, and I braced myself for the inevitable "the terrorists bombed LA" response that I just knew was coming. He seemed confused and then she could hear the whole office realize something near them was on fire. He went to his roof and said that it was in the hills, and was heading towards the WB lot and Universal! Not to mention the Hollywood sign! Both lots had been evacuated, and my heart dropped as I pictured Luke's Diner going up in flames. I was so sad! It couldn't be! He then reported that it was heading towards the Hollywood sign, and I just knew that this was it. LA was going to burn to the ground.



Seeing a fire that huge is so unsettling. I was terrified, as I've never witnessed such a thing in my life. I was assured we lived far from it, but my mind was just racing with terror that it was going to burn up the GIlmore sets. Not even to mention the obvious, possibly killing hundreds and ruining homes by the second.

We race home, in some of the worst traffic ever, (as people were obviously trying to get home ASAP), and turn on the news. I felt a huge wave of relief as I heard that it was under control and the Hollywood sign, nor either of the two studios, were damaged. Whew.

So to recap this lengthy post I hope you made it through, since I've lived in LA I've, seen my number one celebrity, Lauren Graham, gone to a strip club, seen two different (possible) shootings, saw one of the largest fires I've ever seen, witnessed the possible demise of the Hollywood sign, gone to a large house party in the hills, illegally parked, seen a fire hydrant shooting water towards the sky, gotten lost twice, seen a car accident happen, seen three car accidents after they happened, felt like I was about to get in a car accident, been allowed access into a roped club while others waited in line, seen Paris Hilton twice being followed by paparazzi, talked to a guy who's in the paparazzi, parked vertically on a large hill, did the tightest parallel parking I've ever done, probably ruined a pretty good job opportunity, got VIP parking on set, and met the director of the pilot of Veronica Mars.

Not too bad for my first week (plus). I think I'm ready for my membership card now!