LaughAtlantis

It's 2:52 a.m. and for the past three hours I have been playing online Monopoly. I am not going to get up tomorrow until like 2. Gaw, I am a dork.

Wandering the web, ya know.

Made myself a license plate at this online mock-up license plate thingy.

I was going to attempt to import the picture and post it here and be all fancy and shit, but it didn't work. I am sad and weak. Go make your own.

I'm not sure how I feel about this.

On the one hand, anyone should be allowed to blog, right? On the other hand, this is freakin' Wil Wheaton.

So, why am I torn on this so-called issue? Well, I guess I feel that celebrities ought to want to retain whatever privacy they have. On the other hand, what the hell, if the guy wants to put his life out there, who am I to criticize?

And I have to appreciate the fact that he does improv, don't I? At least, theoretically?

Eck. I think I'm just peeved that it wasn't John Cusack or Edward Norton or Scott Cohen or someone else whose acting I feel particularly drawn to.

Sigh.

I was just blogjumping and found 'Mug Shots of the Rich and Famous.'

Is it wrong that I enjoy stuff like this?

i hAvE tO aDmIt, I fInD tHiS sOrT oF tHiNg AnNoYiNg, BuT fOrMiNg A cLiQuE tO pRoTeSt It SeEmS eXtReMe.

Writing that sentence was quite possibly the most frustrating thing I've ever done.

Every so often, I dive into writing. I have started three different novels, only to put them aside when I got bored or busy or just tired of it. Well, this month is National Novel Writing Month, and there's this challenge going on urging folks to try to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November.

I know what you're thinking. "That's CRAZY, Joy, that just can't be done." You know what? You're probably right. If I start today, I need to write 1923 words a day in order to have 50,000 words by November 30. It sound impossible. I don't have that kind of time, do I?

Do me a favor. Scroll down to my entries from November 3 and see how much time I spent playing online Monopoly and Clue on that day. Anyone remember my Crazy Train obsession? It's insane how much time I spend doing *nothing* online. So instead, why not write? Can't hurt, can it? Maybe come December I will have 10,000 words of utter crap, but you know what? It's more than I have now, right? And maybe I will be able to work the kinks out of some of the crap I've written in the past. Never can tell.

Okay, I need to end this post, because I have a novel to write.

This is another one of those daily blogging things that I am trying out (though lately I seem to have been able to come up with my own topics). I like this one because it's just your basic easy multiple choice, dis-or-dat thing. ( I apologize to the folks who run this thing. I cannot find the link to the site that poses these questions, only to the site where I found someone else who'd answered them. Sorry.)

1. Art or science museum?
Art... but I like anthropology museums too.
2. Play or watch sports?
Watch (and yell and curse at the athletes, not to mention umps/refs).
3. Zoo or circus?
Hands down, no questions asked, zoo.
4. Theater: film or live on stage?
Oh my gosh, live live live.
5. Rock concert or the symphony?
Rock concert.
6. Movies: see them in a theater or wait for DVD/VHS?
Ooh, good question. Lately I haven't seen much in the theater, and DVD has those nifty extras, so I'm torn.
7. Board games or computer/video games?
Lately I've been playing board games online. Fun!
8. Hobbies: crafts (art, cooking, home repair, etc) or collecting (coins, stamps, rocks, etc)?
I'm a packrat. Collecting.
9. Watch TV or read a book?
Read a book.
10. Eating out: fancy, white-tablecloth restaurant or casual dining?
Depends on my mood - and my appetite. I tend to like ethnic food and the ambience runs the gamut.

Shockingly, today marks four months of dating rOD. It seems like much longer than that (in a good way). So I'm taking this time to tell him (and the world, it seems) how very much I love him. He makes my days brighter and I just feel lucky and thrilled that he is in my life.

Thanks for four fabulous months, babe. Here's to a billion more.

And you know what?

Chickenbutt.

I have been abusing a friend of mine for not writing in his blog (because he abused me first), so now I feel required to write in mine daily. Well, I've been busy today. So this is probably the only chance I have to write. And (*sob*) I have nothing to say.

The moral of thi story is, NEVER TEASE.

The likelihood of my learning from that moral is pretty much nil.

This morning I was riding the Green Line T into Boston and I listened to the driver announce over the loudspeaker, "You know, if you would all move to the back of the cah, we could expedite this trip a little quickah, so move to the back of the cah! They's plenty a space they-uh."

Where to begin?

First off, Mr. T Driver, I know you're from Massachusetts, but let me introduce you to the 18th letter of the alphabet. I like to call it R. It belongs not just in consonant blends, but also at the ends of some words. Try it.

Secondly, the word expedite means "to make faster" Thus, when you say "expedite a little quicker," you're being redundant. And despite the fact that you've used a really big word, you've still wound up sounding dim.

Finally, how the heck can you tell that there's room at the back of the car? Do you have a little built-in camera back there that tells you that the T passengers are basking in open spaces and wondrous comfort? No? Did you take a class in T passenger psychology that says that T riders like to cluster in the front car unless you take a cattle prod to them and force them to the back? No? Then how do you KNOW???

Let me tell you this: you don't know. In fact, you're dead wrong in thinking this. How do I know? Because I am actually sitting at the back of the car, and there is a guy with a backpack stuck right in my face and a woman whose bag is actually resting on my shoulder. Believe me, it's crammed full back here.

You might now be saying, "Gee Joy, aren't you getting awfully upset about this? I mean, worse things happen on the T than just bad grammar and pronunciation and lack of passenger knowledge on the part of the T drivers, right?"

You're absolutely right.

So let me tell you about one of those things.

In fact, today I was also on the Red Line riding from Park Street and South Station. This is just two stops and realistically, it's the place and time when the Red Line is the most crowded on your average weekday morning because people are all heading for the financial district. Today, however, I lucked out and got a relatively uncrowded train. I mean, I was standing, but there was room to breathe and space to move.

So this elderly Asian man comes and stands right in front of me. I found this slightly odd because there was a great deal of room behind him and he was standing RIGHT by me, sort of sideways, and was holding a plastic shopping back next to him that was bumping into my knees. Had he moved over a step or two, he would have had considerably more space for himself.

Well, we stopped at Dowtown Crossing and a few folks got off, creating more room which this man did not take advantage of. About two seconds later I figured out why, when his hand snaked under my coat and STROKED MY CROTCH.

I whipped my knee up at him and sidestepped into the woman standing next to me. He looked completely startled, as if he never expected me to be offended by his action. At this point, the T was pulling into South Station and I just stared at him. The doors opened and I pushed by him roughly, just saying "Creep." I couldn't even muster up an adequate insult or make any sort of steps to stop the guy from future T molestations - he stayed on the T and I don't know where he was planning on getting off it. And frankly, it was clear that he was getting off ON it, so maybe he wasn't actually planning on ever leaving the train. But in any case, there wasn't really anyone I could run and tell about this lovely start to my day, so I just got off the train and came to work.

Hows that for a fucking spectacular commute?

I'm now 3137 words into the novel. I would've written more by now but I'm a lazy whore. But what this means is that in the 23 days remaining, I have 46863 words to write, which works out to roughly 2037 and a half words a day.

Sure, I'm gonna finish it.

Riiiiiiiiight.

Hell, now I've just wasted 74 perfectly good words on this entry. I wonder if I could fit them in somewhere?

I changed colors again. Not sure if I like this any better, but I'm learning code! It's exciting! It's new! I'm thrilled! I'm hopeful!! I'm....

a geek.

rOD, I'm blaming this on you.

So I was thinking about this novel-writing thing today.

The challenge was supposed to start on November 1, but I didn't hear about it until the fifth, so I was already behind. I've only been averaging a thousand words a day, so I'm even further behind if I really want to get to 50,000 words by November 30.

But, that being said, I've written 5,311 words. If I keep going at this rate, I will have 25,000 words by the end of the month. I won't have the completed novel, but 25,000 words is FANTASTIC! I mean, that's 25,000 words that weren't there before, and that goes a long way toward getting this story told.

So instead of lamenting the fact that I am so far behind, I hereby am allowing myself to say, YAY ME!

I know I am going to regret posting this, but...

Jen, my oldest and dearest friend, told me that TV Guide had a list of the top 50 TV theme songs ever. I don't have time to figure out my top 50, but I have a list of my top ten... or so I think. I have a feeling that this will change by the end of the day today and I will wind up changing it umpteen times, but heres' my rough draft.

Thanks for the idea, Jen - and I apologize for posting pretty much the exact same thing I e-mailed to you.

This list is highly, highly subjective. I will likely edit this entry more times than all my other entries combined, as I am destined to think of something absolutely perfect that I really would've liked to have on the list about five minutes after I have rebuilt the site. But here goes...

10. The Courtship of Eddie's Father
9. The Monkees
8. Family Ties
7. Taxi
6. Laverne & Shirley
5. Diff'rent Strokes
4. The Jeffersons
3. Welcome Back, Kotter
2. 21 Jump Street
1. WKRP in Cincinnati

Honorable mentions to M*A*S*H (which only got kept off the list because it's from the musical, so I somehow feel it doesn't count), Golden Girls, Cheers (which over the years has just left a bad taste in my mouth, don't know why), Drew Carey (for the multitude of songs they've used), Bosom Buddies (which I actually had on the original list I sent to Jen, but somehow having Billy Joel do your theme song is sort of like sending in a ringer), Greatest American Hero (pretty much the same deal), The Animaniacs, Happy Days, Growing Pains, and (pretend you do not see the next word on this page) Blossom.

Whaddaya think?

Have you ever taken part in the pregnancy pool at the office? You know, like when someone's pregnant and you take bets on what she'll have, and when, and how big itll be, and all that? The problem with those polls is that you have to wait for someone to get pregnant.

Problem solved.

Which? Magazine (I guess it's the UK's version of Consumer Reports) is trying to break a washing machine, and you can bet on when it'll break. How cool is that??

I bet 26 days, 14 hours, 33 minutes, 18 seconds. (Don't take my time! I don't want to split the prize with you!)
rOD bet "9-odd days."

I want to try something like this... quick, think of something I can break!

Okay, so I quit writing the novel yesterday and started something new.

Why, Joy? Why would you do that? You were doing so well!!

Well, yes, I sort of was, but it was like pulling teeth and it was making me crazy. The problem I had was that I was attempting to combine the plots and characters of two novels that I had already started and abandoned in the hopes of coming up with one cohesive tale. But the whole point of this NaNoWriMo challenge is that you are aiming for quantity and not quality. I felt lke I was doing a rewrite, so the words weren't coming and the ideas weren't crystallized enough for me and I just wound up getting more and more frustrated, until finally I looked at my computer screen and just said, "Fuck it." I don't have to be writing this story at this time. I can start something new and fresh and then I won't feel like I'm under any pressure to make it perfect becaus I will know that editing will come later.

And so, I'm off and running. 1271 words in about 45 minutes of writing thus far, so I am much closer to being on track than with the other story.

So again, I say, YAY ME!

Apparently, if you enter the following searches into google or some similar search engine, you can find me.

Wil Wheaton has moles - why? why would someone search for this?
how to do heroin - again, why??
winona ryder mug shots - I never even wrote about this!
lack of computer skills market research - my computers skills are just fine, thank you very much
my boyfriend has poor grammar - actually, no, he doesn't - and I don't think I ever said he did!
john irving my grandmother on my shoulder - I don't even know what this means
and my personal favorite - epileptic fit animations website - who looks for these things????

Can't I be linked to cool things? or at least NORMAL things? Geez...

Here I come!

I'm off to NY for the weekend to do a workshop for directing improv. I'm very excited. Very last minute. I feel so spontaneous and free and shit... which is sort of funny when you consider that I am going to a workshop, not jet-setting off to Paris or some such thing.

So, have you ever gotten food at the salad bar, and something from a nearby container has fallen into the container of whatever you're getting and you don't notice until you're eating it... only to find out that it's really GOOD?

That's fairly specific, I know. But a couple weeks back I was getting tuna salad from the salad bar so I could make myself a sandwich. (If you get the tuna and the pita at the salad bar, it tends to cost about $3.00. If you buy a tuna sandwich, it costs $4.25. Further proof that I'm a cheap bastard.) Anyway, the tuna is next to the chow mein noodles and I wound up having a sandwich that had a few crunchies in it.

Today I went to the salad bar, couldn't decide what I wanted, and finally wound up dumping chow mein noodles and tuna salad together in a pita for a crunchy tuna effect. SO GOOD. And yet, I somehow feel as if I actually ate this concoction in front of people I would be berated and scorned.... or at least stared at like Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club when she puts popcorn and pixie sticks on her sandwich.

But I'm telling you, TRY IT.

I realize now that the problem with posting my weird search strings is that when people go to google and enter in those same bizarro searches, it has an inccreased tendency to send people to me. Thus, I will get more of the Wil Wheaton mole watchers and folks who want to see Winona's mug shot. Or today's winner, "Jennifer or Aniston the ice woman."

People are weird.

This weekend I went to New York, very much as a last-minute thing, to do a workshop on directing for improv. The workshop itself was a revelation in many ways - I've been schooled primarily in one approach to directing improv, and there was SO MUCH that was new to me in there that I felt at times like I'd never improv'd before. Sad, in that I've been doing this for years.

Saturday began with a bang. Rod had set the alarm for 5:00, which was necessary in order for me to catch the 6:30 train. I figured I'd need to leave by five before six at the latest to catch it. I wound up waking up at 4:48, having to pee desperately. I returned to bed, thinking "Yay, ten more minutes of sleep." The alarm went off at 5:00 - Rod, thinking I was up, turned it off. I was completely asleep by that point and never even heard the thing.

When I woke up again, it was 5:51. You know things are bad when the first word out of your mouth in the morning is "Fuck!!!"

In a mere eighteen minutes, I managed to shower, pack and get downstairs. Rod called a cab. I hopped in. Astoundingly, I was at the bus station at 6:24. I got in line at the Peter Pan counter and when I finally got up to the head of the line I was informed that the next bus was lat 7. Okay. That would still get me in to NY by 11:30 and I'd get to the workshop by its starting time of noon. So I wandered out to the gates and, because they told me that the next bus was at 7, I simply ignored the bus at the next gate that read "NEW YORK EXPRESS" figuring that was the 7:00 at it wasn't loading yet. Wrong. It was the 6:30 and left about three minutes later. I wanted to smack myself in the forehead.

Got on the next bus, fell asleep, got to NY, took a cab to the workshop, spent four hours learning an obscene amount of new things that made me wonder why I ever thought I could direct and if I had ever actually done anything remotely approximating decent improv. It was revealing, to say the least. I used muscles that I had forgotten I had. Believe it or not, I strained myself in a scene in which I was pushing an imaginary backpack. Don't ask.

After the workshop I went out with some folks that I had only previously known from an online message board. It's always slightlly odd to make the leap from the internet to reality particularly in the case of people you know from a message board, in that they might remember posts you made that you have no recollection of and vice versa. But Sal and Hugh (I was frankly surprised to know that they even had real names) were really cool. We all went out to eat a a comfort food restaurant called the Chat N' Chew. With a name like that, you'd think that I was served by an old woman named Etta Mae who was wearing a housecoat. Nope. Outta-work-actor-boy. The food was good though - best cole slaw I've had in years. We talked shop and then went shopping. I bought a couple Christmas presents and a towel - since I'd forgotten to bring one with me. Then Sal and I raced off to see his girlfriend in a staged reading of Henry V. It was a cross-gendered production and was really well done. While watching it I learned that a Welsh accent sounds much like a bad Pakistani accent. Go figure.

After the show I headed for the youth hostel where I was to hang my hat for the evening. Calling it a "youth hostel" is a misnomer. I'm 29 and I think I was the youngest person in my room. I got in the latest though; I'm sorta proud of that.

Woke up the next morning and took a quick shower, then headed downtown. Right by the workshop site was the New York Chocolate Show. I had to physically stop myself from buying a ticket and skipping the workshop entirely. Instead, I went to the Hollywood Diner for a lovely Belgian waffle and then went to Barnes & Noble for general milling about. I do so love bookstores.

Then off to the workshop for hours of intensive directing madness. Again, I learned tons. Workshop ended and I headed to Port Authority to go home. I wanted to take the 5:00 bus back to Boston, to no avail. That bus filled two people ahead of me in the line, so I had to get on the 5:30 bus. Sadly, the 5:30 bus had no air conditioning and instead pumped out heat. So we had to stop the bus in Harlem and we waited an HOUR for the replacement bus. So instead of getting into Boston at 9:30, I got home at 11:00 at night. I was exhausted when I got to South Station. I called Rod and he ordered me some pasta. I went over to his place, had Chicken alla Pignoli, we talked improv, and then I fell happily asleep.

Yup, that was one eventful weekend.

Four days? FOUR DAYS!!!

I can't believe it's been four days since I last blogged. Life's been crazy insane busy. My boss had a death in his family and went out of town and I wsa left to rebuild a huge project for Monday - a project that he had pawned off on another team and then gotten upset about because they didn't build it up to his standards. Apparently they were supposed to read our minds about how we do things in order to build the program. So now I am redoing their work, trying desperately to figure out why it got shoved off on them in the first place, and oh yeah, I have my own regular work to do too. Crazy crazy crazy.

As usual, it's an improv weekend coming up. I am going to see a show tonight, have a rehearsal tomorrow morning for the show I'm stage managing and then tomorrow afternoon I have a meeting with a group of improv students that I am going to be advising/coaching/directing/teaching. And Sunday my great friend (and troupemate) Matt is going to be doing a show at Improv Boston with a variety of different improvisers from the Boston community.

I occasionally wonder if anybody reading this actually gives a shit what my weekend schedule is - and I suppose the answer is that the details probably really don't matter now - but in essence, if you know what's going on in my life, you'll have a clue where I'm coming from when I come back to bitch about it. Right?

Saw Harry Potter 2 last night. Not the best movie I've seen this year... but not the worst. (That honor goes to the truly abysmal Signs.) I will say that I think they've done a really good job, overall, of casting the Harry series - Alan Rickman, Kenneth Branagh, Robbie Coltrane, and Rupert Grint are all PERFECT - but they really missed the mark with Moaning Myrtle. She was way too old for the part and frankly just looked like Harry Potter in drag. Kinda freaky.

For the past several weeks my boyfriend and I have been watching the first season of 24 - ROd has it on DVD. I think I might have watched one episode of it when it was originally on, but it just seemed like too much of a commitment to sign on for 24 episodes of television that you really had to watch every single week in order to follow. So I skipped it... and now I am finding out what I missed out on. This show is riveting. I guess the coolest thing about is the fact that because of the nature of the show and the storyline, they can just kill off pretty much anyone at any time. Oh sure, you know that Keifer isn't going to day - after all, then who would save the day? - but anyone else is up for grabs. And there are seemingly endless plot twists and sidelines and crazed insanity. Remember LA Law? Remember the shock of that lawyer falling down the elevator shaft? You have the potential for shocks like that in every episode of 24, and it's the coolest thing.

Right now, we are at 7:00 at night and apparently this episode has a cameo by Lou Diamond Phillips. It's like a flashback to Young Guns. What the hell happened to the 80s Brat Pack? Is it sorta bizarre that they're all on TV now? Charlie Sheen's got Spin City (wait, is that show still on? whatever...), Anthony Michael Hall has Dead Zone, Rob Lowe has West Wing (and hell, Christian Slater's on there now), Jami Gertz was on Ally Mcbeal - as was Robert Downey, Jr between prison stints, Judd Nelson had Suddenly Susan (okay, so that's probably not much to write home about, but you get my point). So to round it out, I think Ally Sheedy and Molly Ringwald should get a show together, where they play lesbian life partners with five kids and a cat. Andrew McCarthy and Emilio Estevez can be their gay friends who helped father the brood, and Jon Cryer can be the wacky neighbor.

Yeah, I'd watch that.

As Thanksgiving approaches, I've realized something. I have weird favorite holidays.

I love Thanksgiving. There's no gift-giving pressure and there's pie. You have a nice meal and then you just sit. You might even nap. You get to see your family and then you're actually allowed to watch football and ignore them, go to sleep and ignore them, or unbutton your belt, read the paper, and ignore them.

I love the Fourth of July. When I was a kid our family would always go to my great-grandfather's house on Boot Pond in Plymouth and swim and have a big cookout. My brother and I would walk down the beach at South Pond and collect tiny little toads - hoppy-toads, we called them - and set them free at the end of the day. There was a dock at our section of the beach that you could jump off of, and you could see guppies and other fish in the water. Those days defined the fourth of July for me, and even though we don't do anything like that anymore, I guess the memories bring out the best in the holiday for me.

Lastly, I love Christmas Eve. For the past several years, I have gone to my friend Jen's for Christmas Eve to celebrate with her Italian family. They do the full traditional dinner, which amounts to about a billion courses of fish. Jen's family members always remember things about me that shock me somewhat - they always bring up some tidbit of my life from the previous year that I have completely forgotten. Every year her grandmother asks me if I'm coming over on Christmas too, and I never have yet, but she always seems convinced that I've been there in previous years. Jen's cousin James is certifiable and her sister is... indefinable... and her dad looks like a mobster and her whole family is just lovely. It's just homey.

I don't know, I suppose the thing that ties all thes things together is that they are really family holidays - odd in that there is something of a disconnect within my family. My parents have been divorced for 13 years but we still all spend holidays togather, which has always seemed terribly odd and somewhat false to me. I guess all of these things have the air of togetherness and family - well, outside of Thanksgiving. And that has pie.

I don't normally take the time every year to actually think of things I'm thankful for, but this year there's so much that I just couldn't help but make a list.

My job - I'm good at it, I like what I do, and my company recognizes that I know what I'm doing.

My meds - I did a complete switch to a new epilepsy medication this year, and while it was not without its bad moments - quite a lot of them, actually - it's done. Nasty long-term side effects are no more!

My weight - Down over thirty pounds primarily due to the change in meds. I still have a ways to go to be a fashion model, and frankly I should be trying harder than I am, but I'm pleased.

My health - Better than it has been. No pneumonia this year. Yay!

My family - Grew by one person this year in the form of my niece, Julia Frances Rose Carletti. Adorable child. Looks just like me.

My boyfriend - Rod should really be first and foremost on this list because he just means the world to me. Sadly, I think Jerry Maguire has made the words "You complete me" sound almost hopelessly cheesy, but Rod really does make me feel whole.

My blog - My fabulously geeky boyfriend gave me my own domain name as a gift. It's just the sweetest thing ever and I love having a place to vent, to gush, to share, to rant, to just leave thoughts for posterity.

Other bloggers - I have a handful of people whose worlds I visit a couple times a week - or in some cases, a couple times a day. I'm hugely thankful for the diversion, the insight, and the laughter they bring me.

Improv - Speaking of laughter, I love my improv. It's such a release for me and it does my heart good to make people laugh.

Card games - This year I discovered and re-discovered SET, Xactika, Phase 10, Uno, Quiddler, and a few others. They make me happy.

Vacation - I'm glad I finally took a real vaction. Despite the fact that I never quite finished blogging about my trip, I had a fabulous time and cherish every moment. (Well, every moment except those two times I was seasick.)

There's so many more, but I gotta go - we're headed off to Rhode Island to have a fabulous dinner cooked by my brother - which reminds me that I'm thankful that he finally has internet access because it means I can keep in touch with him and his family more.

In any case, Happy Thanksgiving everybody...

I have a deep-seeded fear that my mother will somehow remember what the name of my website is, and so I don't feel entirely comfortable with spilling my guts about my holiday. Let me just say that my brother cooked an amazing feast, it was wonderful to see my grandmother, and my niece and nephew are absolutely a joy to behold - especially when my niece is projectile vomiting on my mother.

And Mom, I mean that in the nicest possible way.