Yeah I'm sort of a hypocrite in bitching about Valentine's Day, since I'm the queen of anti-relationship-ism, or whatever. Perhaps I am becoming a romantic in my old age? Stranger things have happened. I am finding it difficult to concentrate now that I've read your eMail and know that while I am here at my desk crunching resumes and company profiles and project images into documents, you are probably out in the backyard setting up a hammock or drawing something in the street with chalk or whatever. Which makes me really nostalgic for summer and stargazing and daisychains and being anywhere but here.

I hope you are enjoying your current state of unemployment, as I long for those days every second of every day. Were we not at some point going to make a lot of money somehow and buy an island where I could sit in the shade and paint and you could bang rocks together or dive for oysters? How does one make that happen? Certainly there is some inevitable windfall of money waiting for one or both of us somewhere, right? Because you can't lead this sort of life and not be reimbursed somehow....

Yesterday and today are especially days I wish I wasn't here at work. It's such weather to sit on the couch with tea and read books to. And I've just gotten to the part in "So Long and Thanks for all the Fish" where Arthur tells his story about how he was at the train station and had bought a package of biscuits with his coffee and newspaper, and the man who sits down across from him opens the bag and starts eating them...so he decides to pretend like nothing is amiss and without making eye-contact he eats some of the biscuits too...and then eventually the other man leaves, and when Arthur gets up, he finds his packet of biscuits underneath his newspaper....Great, great stuff.

So, I hope all is well with you and Eugene, that the warm-ish rain is pleasing to you, and you are unstressfully floating from couch to kitchen to chair to street, wandering in search of whatever it is you really want there. Surely the job will present itself. I do not doubt your potential for working in a coffeeshop or bakery, since you seem to know your way around foodstuffs and could meet interesting people for brief moments of time while you brewed their favorites for them. I did enjoy the barista aspect of the bagel shop I worked at. Steaming milk is very soothing you know....speaking of which, my latte is almost at an end, which I promised myself would mean I'd get back to proofreading and working on this proposal...

I did end up having a great New Year's though. 80's Prom at Fado was awesome. And the song they played right before the countdown? "The Final Countdown" of course. Highlights of the evening included getting presented with a candy necklace in the bathroom, being drenched in champagne at 12:01am, and riding mass transit home with 200 other drunkards, some of which I'm pretty sure puked in the back of the bus.

In other news, it's supposed to snow here this weekend. I think the weather should get the party started a little early so work gets cancelled tomorrow, but I keep wishing it will snow and it keeps not happening, so, oh well. Better late than never I guess.

In other news, looking for some New Year's parties to crash, and someone to let me borrow OS X Office. But what else is new? Should have some new photographs up if I didn't end up overexposing the film, and maybe even some poetry as well, once my cable gets turned off...

So instead of getting to go gratis to Universal Studios this weekend, I read some books and got to know my new favorite band t.a.t.u. Their songs in russian are funny. Anyway. Went out on friday night to Zanzibar and danced and drank mojitos. I guess there's a cool jazz/blues club nearby that everyone was talking about but now I forget the name. Damn.

Dad is coming down this weekend for an exciting conference about the medical uses of lasers or something, so I'm going to try to show him a good time while he's in town. Naturally, I want to take him to an LA Philharmonic performance at the fancy new Walt Disney Concert Hall that the architecture firm I work for built, but it's sold out. Time to bust out the PR skills and the name-dropping. Or the whining - they seem to be equally effective. Also I need to find a hip restaurant, but my experience with Asia de Cuba makes me a little hesitant. Guess I'll take my chances at The Ivy or Spago or TacoBell...

The pictures mentioned some time ago that were taken at work for the Playboy Bachelor Pad are now published in the Playboy 50th Anniversary Edition of the magazine - On newsstands now! About four of the pictures show me in all my dorky glory - so I guess that's noteworthy. Otherwise business is as usual around here. We got our Christmas bonuses at the "holiday party" last friday, which were pretty underwhelming after taxes. Ah well, all I know is, come tax return time, I better be getting a pat on the back from ol' Uncle Sam. I mean damn, my monthly rent costs more than a boob-job or a decent car! Throw me a bone here people. I guess I should be investing my money in lucrative business ventures, such as playing the Lottery or more frequent trips to Vegas. Hmmm, guess I have my New Year's resolution taken care of...

It's almost halloween and still about 85 degrees down here, which always blows my mind, since back home at this time of year I'd be huddled by a fire trying not to catch a cold. My goal next weekend is to come up with the most kick-ass costume imaginable, and then go to some parties and win lots of prize money. But I'd settle for just going out, getting drunk, and eating some candy. Last year we ended up at Saddle Ranch on Sunset and aside from seeing our friends ride the mechanical bull in costumes, it kind of sucked. So I am on a mission. To Party. Watch out.

Home was even better, since I spent almost the entire time sleeping, eating, sailing, and being a beach bum. Now I'm back in reality and it's not quite so rad...perhaps a few changes will need to be made. First and foremost I should probably find a new place to live since my apartment building is being demolished in September....

My upcoming trip home is still 3 weeks away and naturally, time is gradually slowing down to a dead stop, so it seems that day will never come. The weekend before the weekend I leave for Oregon, I'm taking a road trip to Las Vegas for a weekend of debauchery and a Jay-Z & 50 Cent concert. I can only imagine what kinds of trouble I'm going to get in to, but I'll bring my new camera in case I don't remember clearly what happens (ahem). Until then, I suppose I'll busy myself with learning ASP (snore) and reading the new Harry Potter (yay!).

- Whalerider at the Laemmle 4
- bidding on a new camera on eBay
- figuring out how to sneak in to Disneyland

This weekend looks to be a pretty good one. Hopefully I'll get to take in Tsui Hark's Vampire Hunters, catch up on all the sleep I lost this week, and maybe even get out of the city for awhile. But then, that's always the plan, isn't it...

Children of Dune was pretty cool. For the past 2 months I've driven by a billboard advertising it on my way to work, and now I finally got a chance to take it all in. The cast hails from all over the world which is neat, and apparently, Dune boys like going shirtless. No objections here. I also watched the final epsiodes of Dawson's Creek, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Mr. Personality, and American Idol. A lot of finality this week. I can't say I've watched any of the shows much, but final episodes are always a riot - how they decide to tie up the loose ends. I'm sure a lot of Buffy and Dawson fans are outraged as their respective endings sucked.

The destination of choice these days seems to be San Miguel de Allende, and it does look pretty wonderful, so maybe I'll look into that as my next vacation...whenever that may be...

For lunch I repaired a sandal, bought and devoured some sushi, and listened to the Police's greatest hits while deftly maneuvering through lunchtime traffic. I've been getting a spring-cleaning buzz lately, so I think this evening will find me rearranging all the apartment furniture and hopefully attacking and diminishing my out of control closets. Look at me go! I have a feeling my good moodiness has something to do with my plans for this weekend. Since it's Memorial Day weekend, I'm taking an extra day off and driving up to Santa Barbara to be with my two bestest girlfriends. 4 days of sitting in the sun, splashing in the ocean, reminiscing about the past, and goofing off! The only part that will suck is driving up PCH with all the other holiday-fun-bound travelers, but maybe if I hit the road at the crack of dawn I can out-fox 'em...although I can't help thinking about that Jetta commerical where all the couples think they're going to be the only ones on the road, and everyone else has the same idea.

Oh, a photographer came in to work the other day to take everyone's picture for some exhibit that's going to be at MOCA at some point, and while they were at it, I had a pic taken for the company's intranet site. It's pretty creepy, but you can see it here if you're so inclined. It's a beautiful day but there's work to be done, so I guess I'll go back to daydreaming about being outside.

I head home tomorrow morning for another surprise arrival on my parents' doorstep. It is pure joy to see the shock and bewilderment register on my mum's face when I nonchalantly stroll through the front door. Tomorrow is sure to be no exception. And I'm bringing flowers, because I am basically the best daughter in the world. I'm looking forward to some overcast skies and rain, and walks through the field among the birds, squirrels, and snails - and I'm sure mother nature will be more than happy to oblige.

I've finally got Alice up and running which is good and brings me back in time a little, and I've been drawing again too (so what if most of it's while I'm on the phone?) which always helps. The sun still shines here. In fact, I think it's summer again in L.A., if it ever was a different season. I think winter lasted about 2 weeks...which would be fine with me if I had the opportunity to experience the weather some way other than through a skylight...but that brings us back to the beginning of this entry. How difficult is it to learn Greek?

Something has to be said for watching a movie on the big screen with a good five or six beers in your jacket and a couple of rowdy friends along for the ride. My first and most memorable experience doing this was when we saw "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." Not knowing the premise of the film before going in, I was pretty distressed when the drug-induced special effects started up, thinking the cheap beer was to blame. Other films we ended up stumbling out of halfway through, since movies sometimes magically become mere background noise when you're drinking with friends. In my opinion, there was much worse going on in those dirty theaters than what we were up to, so I don't feel too bad about being disruptive. And it's not like we went there to see "The Lion King" and frightened the little kids or anything.

Anyways. It's almost the weekend again. Maybe I'll brush up on my depravity in-between tearing it up on Bust a Groove.

Work is going really well. I've expanded my repertoire here to include working at the front desk and hopelessly confusing visitors and groupies, making travel arrangements and bickering with the limousine peeps, and folding and FedEx-ing a never-ending supply of blueprints (sometimes without papercuts!). In addition to all the other things I do this makes for a very fast and furious sort of environment. Fine by me. It's a nice change from blankly staring out the window at RAND.

Inexplicably, I'm high-octane today, even though I got no sleep last night. Might have something to do with the fun old man run-ins I've had so far today. At the gym, some guy saw me getting out of my car with the OR plates and called out, "Oregon, huh?" And proceeded to launch into a story about how he went to the same college as me, but graduated like, 100 years ago. He then wished me a pleasant day and did some funny tipping-of-the-imaginary hat thing. Then at the gas station, some grizzly Adams type came over and said "Excuse me but, a girl as pretty as yourself should be smiling." So I indulged him and he skipped off. He was some sort of lumberjack/santa hybrid and looked about 70-ish. This must be my demographic. Maybe I should use this to my advantage. Sugar-Daddy ain't just a candy, after all.

In other music news, where has Madison Avenue been all my life? I'm not surprised they're responsible for that now played-out but still fun "don't call me baby," but "anything, anything?" Pure genius!

This weekend I found myself in Koreatown, which is a slightly less ugly and disurbing area of greater downtown Los Angeles. Maybe it was just less unsightly because I couldn't read the signs and it gave me a cool, foreign feeling. This feeling again came in to play when we ended up in the questionably-named "fashion district," where down 5 blocks worth of alleyways, mexicans of all shapes and sizes begged me to buy their fake Chanel and Prada bags. Also hot on the market were colored contact lenses, Rolex's that weren't fooling anyone, and scared-looking little contraband turtles in plastic tubs. Ah, just like Tijuana without the pesky drive and customs officials...

The working life is going well. Being at Gehry Partners is at times exhausting, but there is no shortage of caffiene-&-deadline-feuled entertainment and electric things to play with in the airplane-hangar-like building. Wheee!

In-between looking for jobs, I've been wolfing down books by the handful, most recently the excellent Miss Wyoming by the revolutionary Douglas Coupland and Birds of America by an author new to me, Lorrie Moore. An excert from Birds I read last night is now particularly bolded in my head:

"Bill is still writing an essay in his head, one of theoretical common sense, though perhaps he is just drinking too much and it is not an essay at all but the simple metabolism of sugar. But this is what he knows right now, with dinner winding up and midnight looming like a death gong: life's embrace is quick and busy, and everywhere in it people are equally lacking and well-meaning and nuts."

I turn a quarter-of-a-century old this saturday, so I've been spending a lot of time evaluating how I've made something of my life thus far, and then becoming melancholy and dissatisfied with myself. Nothing a walk in the bright forever-shining californian sun wouldn't fix I suppose. Also, my fortune cookie last week said to "expect a change for the better in job or status," and as we all know, scraps of paper found in cookies can't be wrong, right?

Reluctantly waiting to hear from my agency about a possible position at a notoriously brilliant architecture firm. I anticipate this job with unabashed eagerness, and yet, I must try to sit still, here on pins and needles, until I know if they like me. So I half-heartedly distract myself...looking online and applying for jobs I do not want, walking to the video store and berating them for not saving me a copy of Donnie Darko, teaching myself French, writing poetry on scraps of paper and then forgetting where I've put them...All in the spirit of maintaining an existence here. Did I mention how warm it is? L.A. is like a big womb, giving everyone anything they might ever want or need, and still it's filled with screaming babies. Hollering just to hear their own voices, and walking stiffly down the sidewalks with a cellular phone clamped to an ear to see if they're getting through to anyone.

This morning, my lack of health insurance be damned, I went to a doctor to see if all was well with me. I've had terrible allergies, the sort that feel like I'm always on the brink of getting a horrible flu, and have been generally feeling a little bit of malaise. He took one look at me and declared I was a malnourished wreck. Well, okay, not in so many words, but, he said he could tell I hadn't taken a vitamin in my life and now would be a good time to start if i wanted to start looking not-dead. Also, apparently the allergies are just my unhealthy immune-system's not-so-subtle plea for nutrients and no more stress. Ha! The vitamins and healthier eating habits I can put in to practice, but deciding not to be stressed out? How in the world does one accomplish that? It's not so much as a switch I can turn on and off...

My travel to Eugene fast approaches and I can't wait! I've been considering extending my stay there, since the few days before christmas my parents will want me for, and the weekend after christmas I'm supposed to spend in portland with Nina, my sister, and everyone else who now lives up there. It would make things a lot easier if I tacked on an extra few days, and perhaps spent New Year's in portland instead of that weekend after christmas, in order to not have a heart-attack and potentially miss seeing some important people...

Otherwise life is fine. I still feel like I'm hanging out in limbo, watching life go on about me without actually taking part in it. This may change once I get my act together and bring my portfolio to The Friedman Agency on Sunset where hopefully they'll stick me in with a production company, a movie studio, ad agency, or something vaguely interesting. It seems sort of stupid to be in Los Angeles and not even take a peek behind those entertainment industry doors...so we'll see what happens, when that happens. Maybe finally get to go to an industry party and drunkenly vomit all over the Backstreet Boys, or something equally satisfying.

I had a dream last night about being at a karaoke bar and realizing that there was truly only one, perfect song that I could sing really well, and that was Tina Turner's "What's Love got to do with it?" Who knew?

My incessant running and acutely rebellious behavior have lead me to believe that I am not-so-subtly urging myself towards a transmogrification. Becoming a healthier and better person? Naw, I think it might just be a cry to be someone different, someone else. Also not a good sign, since I've always felt sort of comfortable in my tragically abnormally individualized form. The fact that I might be swayed by something or a general someone to become something/someone else makes me scared that I'm losing sight of myself. The small mewling question of "who am I?" seems to blip on my radar these days quite more frequently than is usual. So there's that.

I'm having trouble sleeping again. Kept awake by a lot of questions that are neither answerable nor really coherant questions in the first place. A lot of conjecture I guess. I don't know. Tired. Homesick. Stuck. You know how I tend to just take anything bothering me or whatever and just stick it up on the proverbial shelf someplace and ignore it so I feel okay? And then every once in awhile I feel ridiculous for doing that and so I attempt to remove a few things to deal with and the whole contents of the shelf come tumbling down on me and I have a little crisis and have to go someplace and hide to sort them out? Well, perhaps it's just another one of those times....

I am walking a plank, surely. I am forcing myself to walk it, but rather than stride briskly to the end and get it over with, I take baby-steps and see how much I can prolong the inevitable jump. The view hasn't changed much from here, not really. Henry James once said, "You could live in Florida with an idea, if you are content that your idea shall consist of grapefruits and oranges." Am I content that my idea consist of palm trees and traffic jams? What about art, and literature, and philosophy, and all of the things I was born to do? Shall I sit benignly by and watch the world accelerate around me, and resort to homeostasis rather than challenge myself to go?

The following morning, I stumbled over the videotape lying in the middle of the livingroom with some papers and shoes. I absently popped in the tape and sat back. What confronted me next was totally unexpected. The tape consisted of a 2-minute montage of disturbing images and almost no sound. Black and white shots of a three-legged goat, a falling ladder, a woman jumping off a cliff, severed fingers, and an eclipse to name a few. Freaked out and annoyed I threw the tape under the couch and then later passed it off to some friends for their judgement. Nobody knew what to make of it.

Very recently, I noticed a bunch of television ads promoting a new movie called The Ring. Something about the scenes looked vaguely familiar...So I looked up the film online, and it's a story about an urban legend, something along the lines of "whoever watches a particular videotape ends up dying seven days later." Turns out, the tape that was distributed on the sly at the concert, was The Tape that the characters in the movie watch and then die from seeing. Um, great. So I'm not sure if I should be worried that something terrible is now going to happen to me, or if I should be thrilled to have been included in such a brilliant publicity scheme. I guess if the movie does well I can always sell the videotape on eBay...

I do know that I finally found an espresso machine at work that features functioning hot chocolate and cafe mocha buttons so now I am an addicted sugarpuppy. I don't know what's worse, drinking all this sugar in the first place, or having nothing to do with my newfound energy. After staring blankly at a powerpoint presentation for an hour, watching a fly buzz around the ceiling, and tramping up 5 flights of stairs time-trial style, I now sit and wait for the sugar to ebb away and leave me numb and curled up asleep beneath my desk.