Day 358
So much of being a writer is avoiding writing. I can't tell you how many times I do stupid shit like go sit on the toilet when I don't have to go just to avoid sitting at my desk. I wonder if a toilet paper company would sponsor me. Anybody who says they are a writer who can sit down and produce work wonderfully ISN'T a writer. I never used to buy into that whole waiting for inspiration gag but at this point it is either believe in it or believe that I am a failure. So, in an effort to get out of my own head and avoid writing, I am writing this blog entry. I guess that means I am not avoiding writing. Maybe I should get a heated toilet seat.
Today was supposed to start off with me working on a script that I have due for this coming Monday. Instead, the day started with a fire alarm test. Not only did they test that the alarm sounded in the hallways, they also played the amazingly annoying screechy alarm in the rooms. After 20 minutes of that, I had to physically remove myself from the building. I went back after the alarm stopped only to discover that there was a round two of testing where a short man who winked at me came into my room and sprayed something that is supposed to smell like smoke but looks like air freshener at my antique smoke alarm and set it off. Then, he took a huge metal clipboard and started to fan the smoke away so that it would turn off. He kept bumping my Chinese glass hanging with the metal sheet while I waited for it to break. Now, how is a girl supposed to write after being violated like that?
I went and picked up one of my strange athletic hippie friends to tag along with me to get a bike seat. The first stop was a thriftstore that she surprisingly didn't want to enter. While inside I realized what I hate about fashion and people who are fashion forward. I hate how I see something and find it hideous and then someone (like my athletic hippie fashionista buddy) finds the same thing wonderful. For example, there was a purple sweatshirt with a photo of a deer on it and it read, "White Tail Deer" I looked at this find as an unfortunate piece of crap that was worn by a toothless kissing cousin at his wedding. While my friend looked at it as though it were a treasure. When she held it up to her and tried it on it looked fabulous. This makes me wonder if the necklaces I picked out are really just gaudy and boring non-fashion risk stuff.
When we finally got to the bike shop I found myself talking to this bad ass butch-y bike punk girl about how I want my ass to be comfortable on a bike seat. Turns out they didn't have any seats that were squishy enough. While I was talking to this girl I looked over at my White-tailed Deer sweatshirt-owning compadre and saw that not only did she find something awesome for her bike she was also talking to the hottest sales guy I have seen in years. Gawd, she gets it all, the fashion, the bike parts she wants, and the cute boys. I can't hang with this chick anymore, too depressing.
After the bike store we packed up her new bike part and sought out a gluten-free eatery where my friend could actually have a sandwich. Turns out that gluten-free buns aren't bad. But, I could pretty much eat cardboard if it were covered in ham and mayo. The craziest part of that adventure was that after we ate the gluten-free sandwiches we went next door to the Italian deli/meat counter. Where I was going to get a beef stick for dessert. And then, my hairy-legged, deer-sweatshirted friend got hit on by the cute butcher guy. On the walk back to the bus I decided that I SHOULD hang out with this friend and act as a sort of pimp for her. If I can get her to date the bike store guy maybe he could find me a puffy seat and if she dated the butcher I could get free chorizo. I am not even going to pretend that I am not a terrible person.
Thinking back over my blog entries (I don't read this shit) I notice that nearly everyday I have a crush on someone. Every one of these crushes so far has turned out to be a bust. There were no growing old sequences a la Up! in any of these men. So, I was going to keep my latest crush more secret so as not to jinx it. Shit, even saying I have a latest crush is mentioning him. Fuck. I suck at this. I really wanted this one to work out too. Oh well, I guess I will always have the memory of how he touched my arm today and I swooned and how it reminds me that I have a heart and that I am a huge loser. Great, now I can stay home and cry to Avril Lavigne videos some more. Ugh.
My favorite activity of the past couple of days is to wait until someone describes a song or a video to me and then when there is a pause say, "Put it on my Facebook." Then the next time I check my Facebook page I look to see who has actually taken the time to do so and laugh that they did. Then, I watch the video and wonder if they put it up right away because they really care or because they are bored. Then I start to think I should get a life but then I write comments on the videos and it feels like I have a life.
Tip of the Day: Don't give up. Falter but don't give up.
-Canadian Castaway
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