Day 190
What happens to pastrami on rye addicts? I am concerned. Three out of the last four days I have consumed a pastrami on rye. Am I really that person who has a routine for lunch that doesn't change. I guess I could be that person, but my mother would disown me. Funny how someone who has eaten toast every morning for 15 years hates people with routines. Anyway, I suppose I could live my life by the pastrami on rye. Maybe if I went to the same deli enough I would be known as "That Pastrami On Rye Girl." They would have my sandwich at the ready before I walked in. There would be extra pickles and I would smile and feel important--until I left and ate that ready-made sandwich and realized there is so much more to life than being known at the local deli...or is there?
Apparently, I am addicted to other things as well, like chewing hangnails. I know it's revolting. Just yesterday my bodyguard took one look at my hands and recoiled. "Why do you do that to yourself?" He asked. I said, "It's this or smoke cigarettes." "Well, I guess if--hey, wait a minute that's not how it is," he said. Does he really care? That's sweet. Or is he just repulsed by self-mutilation and can't be seen with a freakish girl with self-destructive tendencies? I am going with the idea that he cares. Nah, if he really cared he wouldn't have told me that the movie store guy wasn't actually hitting on me and didn't seem at all interested in me. He also wouldn't have a told me that I was a little nutty for stalking the movie store guy online. Unless, he doesn't want me to get wrapped up in someone who doesn't care about me (addiction number 3) or be the girl who is so desperate she would spend her time creeping strangers on the internet. He does care! That bastard. He always comes off so freaking wonderful.
Another big addiction of mine was discovered and fed today and that is, shit-talking while playing UNO. No, I am serious. This is a super bad ass card game. There is room to be cocky from shuffling, right down to tossing your cards onto the pile like you don't care. But, there is nothing better than the sound of, "Draw four, bitch. Yellow!"
Today I also discovered what I am not addicted to: green tea. My friend who regularly drinks green tea responded, "Do you like the taste of water?" I answered, "Not when I am supposed to be drinking tea." I called his tea pussy. Later he told me that he had some chcolate in his room if I wanted any. I asked, "Is it milk chocolate?" "No," he said. "Milk chocolate is for pussies." Damn, I need to live with some dumb people who can't think of cool comebacks in their third language.
A few days ago I pulled aside my TV Writing professor aside and told her how much I am interested in working for TV. I confessed to her that I have always loved TV and that I spent all of our recent break reading TV writing books and working on my series. She told me that was wonderful. In the style of what Canadians called a 'keener' (Translation: brown-noser) I asked her what else I should be doing. She told me that I should watch TV. So, I have been. In fact, I have watched around 6 hours of it today alone. Let me tell you it's been exhausting. Here's a summation of the extraneous material I have learned from this homework:
Pushing Up Daisies:
Great costumes and consistent costume designs are nice, but not as nice as having one of your central characters be a giant P.I. guy being addicted to knitting.
Shows about dead people don't have to involve terrifying circumstances.
The fact that the lead characters physically can't touch each other means that there won't be any boring post-sex talk scenes.
Pie looks better on TV.
A soothing and magical narrator is a nice way to give a storybook feel and make you feel a little goofy/perv-y to be enjoying this voice as an adult.
Degrassi Junior High:
If you want a funny show, just set it in the 80s in a high school. It doesn't matter what is said as long as the kids are wearing authentic 80s clothing it will be hysterical.
If there is a high school teacher in your show make sure he has a mustache and makes fun of the kids he is teaching.
The right looking and spirited chubby kid can win the pity and thus, hearts of all audience members, unless they are high school kids that beat up this type of loser kid.
By the fourth episode in a row you may be getting glassy-eyed. But, then the writers throw a child abuse scene in to roust the viewer. Smart and terrifying. The movie store guy I no longer have a crush on (see above) told me to give it a couple episodes to get good. Odd how a child abuse show is good. But, it is far better than a dippy girl winning an election and dissing her friend.
The main character who is supposed to be a young adult version of sexy is clearly missing a tooth. Was missing a tooth sexy for eighth graders in the 80s? Guess so.
I can't wait to see what I learn from tomorrow's assignment.
Tip of the Day: If your plastic animal farm seems to be divided up into two orgies leave them be. Don't tell anyone that you have a plastic animal zoo, people are not cool enough to get it.
-Canadian Castaway
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