Day 266
This morning I read in my horoscope that I should try to set a goal that I thought was impossible and try to attain it. My goal wasn't to become president or become CEO of Frito Lays, no, my goal was to write the script for half of my TV show in one day. I didn't attain this goal (though I got around the halfway mark). At first I thought it may be that it was because I was distracted by laundry and tiresome things like eating and sitting too close to strangers on the bus. But, the real problem here is either that I didn't pick a big enough goal, or, my horoscope didn't really say when or if I would achieve the goal. Hmm... Wonder what my campaign slogan will be, "Let me be your horoscope fulfillment. Vote Emily!"
To write my TV show I needed two things: a burrito and lots of black coffee. I hopped a bus that wound up taking a half an hour. Normally, during my pre-coffee stage of the day I get a little paranoid and a lot hysterical so today I sat on the bus next to a hot guy who stunk horribly of BO and convinced myself that I am slowly dying of mold poisoning. Finally, I got off the bus and stumbled down the street toward a burrito place I had never been to but heard is quite good. Turns out I was on the wrong street, somehow, in my stupor I managed to cross a huge street without the aid of a stoplight and found the joint. When I finally got there I didn't know what to order. I told the cute punk rock guy behind the counter, "I think I'll have the Jonny-O burrito?" His response a sexy, "Yeah, you will." Why can't there be someone around all the time that says that to me when I am indecisive and not trusting my gut (ha, literally)? Maybe I could re-enact the event with him another day and have a hidden tape recorder on me--that wouldn't be too creepy. Right?
The second thing I needed to work on my goal was coffee. I went to a coffeeshop around the corner from the burrito joint. While I was "working" on my script I often looked up to stare absently at strangers. One of these was a creeper-looking guy sitting so that his laptop faced the wall and his eyes could rove the entire room (not unlike myself). I watched him watch a woman come in and order a coffee and a grin jumped up his stone face. Then I realized that I was witnessing a craigslist Missed Connection happening in real life. Sadly, I also took note that the girl wasn't noticing him at all and would probably never be lonely or bored enough to read his desperate search plea. But, he'll keep seeing girls and writing about them and she'll keep living her life oblivious, or maybe not.
So, there is a spot in the library that my friend likes. I am a little sluttier than she is, I have been moving around that place from L-spot to L-spot. I roamed around today and thought of my friend who is now out of town and searched for her usual spot near the window, which means that I was searching for a spot next to a recycling bin and with a booger smear on the window next to it (her description). I couldn't find her exact spot as I realized that people thought I was staring at them and saying, "I'm not staring at you, I am looking for a booger on a window" just sounded inappropriate. I found a new spot for myself. This spot had a "Please Do Not Write on the Walls" sign on it and had writing on the wall next to it. I'd like to think this is a metaphor for my life that I am too simple-minded to figure out.
My bodyguard who is now back home in India and I have been chatting a lot over gmail chat. Usually our chats are about who is more Aragorn-like, how hot India is, and who says hi to him through me. But lately I have been whining to him about how depressed and grumpy I am (half true, half exaggerated). He has been telling me that I need to get out of my room and do something with other people (he referred to these people as my friends). He actually demanded that I make plans. In an effort to appease him and see his reaction I posted a comment on our program's facebook page asking if anyone would want to hang out with me, as my bodyguard says I need to get out. It's been nine hours and I have yet to receive a response from either him or anyone else. I guess I have an actual reason to be depressed now. Oh well, it's the kid no one wants to hang around with that uses this to create whole new worlds through writing to exist in and sell to film companies. Question is, does that make them happy? Damn me for being the 3rd grader who when asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" answered, "Happy."
TV diary entry for the day: I have been watching a British show called, "Waiting for God" it is about two old people living in a retirement home and raising hell. I laughed and laughed and loved how they used words like "pratt" and "namby pamby." I would've fully enjoyed it had I not realized that I have been thinking about writing a show set in an old folks home. I guess I could still do it, but it would be all American with no namby pambies or pratts. Ahh, forget that.
Tip of the Day: When you answer your phone and tell your friend that you are sad that they aren't the bar that you applied at telling you that you got the job, your friend will likely be pissed off that you greeted them with such a lack of enthusiasm. Now your friend will hate you AND you won't have a job.
-Canadian Castaway
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