I think we're at our best by the flicker by the light of the TV set.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Menopause and a Pollock

This morning on my way to work I took a left turn through a red light. For those of you non-drivers out there, that is highly illegal. Don't ask me why I did this because I can't answer that. I guess I was day dreaming/still waking up/losing my mind and hoping to get arrested...? Thankfully, the po-po weren't around and I made it safely to work without any blue and red lights flashing behind me. Woohoo! Cranmore, Fitzgerald & Meaney! This place is sucking the life right out of me. At this point, after five months of this tedious nothingness, it's like a straw trying to suck the last few drops of a milkshake. Can you hear it? That loud, obnoxious slurping? I'm almost empty. No life left. SLUUUUURP!

I think I'm going to plan a trip. Actually, wait. Scratch that. I'm not going to plan it. I'm just going to wake up one morning, jump inside Rhonda (my new car) and put the pedal to the metal. My very good friend, Michelle, who I haven't seen in forever, suggested the idea. I say, if neither of us has a full-time job in two weeks (not likely) then we'll road trip. Just me, the Michdawgz Tullmeister and the open road. Maybe we'll go to California (Californiaaaaa, Californiaaaaaa, here we cooooooooooome!). Or maybe we'll go to South Carolina and visit Grandpa and Grandma E. I don't care where we go. Anywhere, but here.

I've been living home now for six months. It's time for me to go. I'm not yet ready to move out for good (especially since I still don't have a legit job and now I have car payments...What was I thinking?) A road trip is just what I need.

It seems mom has finally hit menopause. Last night I jumped up from my seat across from her at the dinner table when I noticed a hot flash approaching. Her face turned beet red and drops of sweat immediately began dripping down her face. Without bothering to unbutton her sweater all the way, I pulled it off her arms and proceeded to fan her with my dirty dinner plate. It didn't last too long, but it was enough for my dad to suggest investing in an air conditioner for their bedroom this summer. We've lived in a house without air conditioning for 22 years, so this is obviously a big deal. She reminds me of Kitty from "That '70s Show". Short tempered, always drinking... It's quite entertaining, but semi-frightening at the same time.

Meanwhile, Dad's turning into an old Pollock, much like Grandpa Fred. My younger sister's new boyfriend came over the other night and was meeting my parents for the first time. He was supposed to arrive at 7:00, but ended up being late. While Julie stood at the window, anxiously waiting for him, my dad kept yelling about him not being "punctual." He must have said the word 25 times, if not more. "He's not very punctual, Juile!" Five minutes later: "Where is this kid? Not punctual!" Five minutes later: "Julie! Your boyfriend isn't punctual, is he?!" I couldn't help but laugh and thank my lucky stars that I wasn't the one introducing a new boyfriend. My dad isn't exactly the friendliest person. He has the tendency to scare the crap out of most males. He doesn't smile much and when he does, it doesn't quite make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The only guy he ever truly liked was one of Julie's. When she ended the relationship, my dad might as well have been the one who was dumped. His heart was just as broken.

I think a road trip and mini-vacation away from the menopause and Pollock is just what this hunny needs.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009


"I was running for my life. As fast as my legs could carry me. Tree branches grabbed at me, scraping my arms, tearing my clothes as I flew through the woods, searching for a hiding place. Whoever I was with earlier had disappeared now. They had most likely been attacked and was now one of them. The zombies. They were everywhere. I could hear screams, distant cries for help. It was no use. Was there anywhere to hide?

I spotted a house up ahead and ran faster than I thought possible. The wind in my hair, sweat dripping down my spine, darkness all around me. I prayed they couldn't see me, wherever they were. Prayed that I was faster than them. That I could reach the house before they reached me.

I entered a clearing and found myself pacing down a long driveway heading towards the house. As I was approaching my safety, I heard a voice. Loud and clear. Right behind me. He called my name. He wasn't running, didn't sound scared. I knew deep down that he was one of them. A zombie just like the rest. Why else would he stop in the middle of a clearing where they could so easily get him? I knew he wanted to attack me, wanted to steal my soul and turn me into one of them.

I knew all of this, but still I stopped running. Trying to catch my breath, I stood in the driveway ahead of him, not yet daring to turn around and face him. I knew who he was, what he was. Knew what he wanted. And there I was, ready and willing to give him all of me. I couldn't resist. That's how it has always been.

And then I woke up."

Sunday, May 24, 2009

"Your regrets aren't what you did, but what you didn't do. So I take every opportunity." - Cameron Diaz

Friday, May 22, 2009

Perks of Being a News Fox (there aren't many)

One year ago I started a job as a News Assistant/Production Assistant/News Fox at Fox 5 in New York City. I was assigned to work for a show called Good Day New York. It's a local morning show much like Good Morning America. It ran from 5am to 9am, so my shift started at...wait for it...2:30am. Yes, 2:30 in the morning. As in, the middle of the night. When most everyone in "the city that never sleeps" is in fact, ASLEEP.

During my seven months as a News Fox, I did not sleep. I tried to, but it wasn't easy. My body never understood that bedtime was from noon to around 8:00pm. When I fell asleep at noon, I almost always woke up just a few hours later. My mind thought I was just taking a nap. Despite my exhaustion, I could not sleep. (Note: I will have no trouble being a mother and waking up several times a night to take care of an infant. I've had plenty of training.) Since I was always trying to sleep, I never saw anyone. My bed was my best friend/worst enemy. I also cried at least once a day.

There are some (but not many) perks to being a News Fox and living like a vampire. For one, you have the whole day free! I got out of work at 11:30am, so I had the entire afternoon open to do whatever the heck I wanted. While everyone else in Manhattan was stuck at their 9 to 5, I had the city to myself. There are some things you can do in the afternoon that you can't do later in the evening...like go to the post office! I never had a need to go to the post office after work, though, because I didn't have any friends to mail anything to because I didn't talk to anyone because all I did was try to sleep. And if I did have anything to mail, I probably wouldn't have made it to the post office because after working for eight hours in the middle of the freaking night, I walked out of Fox like a zombie. Every day I fell asleep on the subway ride back to the boogie down Bronx. I was that embarrassing person on the train with her head bobbing, falling over on other passengers. It was only noon, so I'm sure people thought I was on drugs or drunk or something. Surely they wouldn't consider that maybe I was a sad, tired News Fox desperately wishing I had chosen another profession.

Another perk was that I could swear like a mother fuckin' trucker. Everyone did. In case you're unaware, working in television news is incredibly stressful. There's a million things to do in a short amount of time. The show is live, so if something doesn't get done in time, you're screwed. While sitting at my computer, frantically working, I would occasionally hear a fellow writer or producer scream out "FUCK!" It would go unnoticed, for the most part. No concerned heads turned in the direction of the curse. It was totally normal. Bad part is, I got so used to swearing like a trucker and hearing others around me swear like a trucker that I began to constantly swear like a trucker. It's not an easy habit to break. Although, I did somehow manage to fix my dirty mouth before moving home with Mom and Dad.

The third and final perk that I can think of at the moment is that no one at Fox cared if I complained about being tired. Everyone working for Good Day New York was utterly exhausted. None of us could see straight and we were constantly yawning. No one expected us to come to work well-rested. In fact, you're expected to be dead tired. Haven't slept in 2 months? No one has! It's cool! There were several instances where I actually had to smack one of the producers because he was SNORING at his desk.

Needless to say, I don't miss it.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

I Need a Life

I'm pissed. Don't know why. Just am. I suppose I could make a list of things that are currently pissing me off. Like the fact that Adam Lambert didn't win American Idol. Or that I work in a stinky law office that bores me to tears. Literally. This place brings me to actual tears. Back to Adam Lambert for a sec. He obviously didn't need to win the lame title because he's better than Fox. Better than those dumb judges. Better than Ryan Seacrest and he will therefore go on to much bigger and much better things (after the lame-ass American Idol tour this summer, that is). However, he deserved to win more than the little bozo who did. I prefer the black nail polish, leather and guy-liner more than the acoustic guitar and dimples. Puh-lease. I wanted Adam to win like I wanted Obama to win. Come on, America. Get with the program. But I digress.

I'm pissed that it's gorgeous outside and I should be laying in the sun trying to get a tan as opposed to sitting inside a stinking office getting goosebumps. Not my idea of a fun time. Laying in the sun is dangerous, though, since I burn easily thanks to the medication I'm on. What medication? Oh, just the stuff to make the swelling go down in my arthritic knees. What?! Arthritis at 22? Uh huh. And the medication that's keeping me out of the sun doesn't even seem to be working anymore since I have a grapefruit-size lump sticking out behind my right knee. Sexy, right? I think not.

I applied for a few jobs this morning in hopes of getting hired and leaving Colchester and making new friends and doing something, anything with my life. I need a miracle in order for that to happen. Get hired? Yeah, right. After sending my resume and a cover letter that basically begs folks to please, dear God, hire me, I rewarded myself by playing countless games of Bubble Spinner. Bored? Have some time to kill? Sick of reading my dumb blog? Click here: http://www.deadwhale.com/play.php?game=774. Warning! Once you start, you won't be able to stop. I dare you to beat my high score of 1,889.

I need a change. I need an adventure. I need an idea. I cannot, will not spend my summer like this. Someone, please snap me out of this pathetic, miserable, feeling-sorry-for-myself mood. Kick me in the ass and get me out of this rut! I'm just like Meggie...

"Yet she was young; at times like this, staring at herself in the ashes-of-roses dress, she wanted to feel, wanted emotion to blow over her like a strong, hot wind. She didn't want to plod like an automaton for the rest of her life, she wanted change and vitality and love." - The Thorn Birds