Bored? Not as much as me!

Hello, my name is Devashan, and I have a problem..

I keep getting sucked into cheesy holiday-themed Lifetime movies. Seriously. I mean, part of it has to do with the fact that I'm stuck in Bangor, Maine and it's dreary outside and much too cold for my delicate nature (stop laughing!), but still.

I watched a movie today called Ebbie. It was a modern-day adaptation of A Christmas Carol with Susan Lucci as the title character, Ebbie Scrooge. Yeah, I'm serious. Susan. Lucci. And I watched the whole thing. Yup. My favorite parts were the lovely ironic moments in which the other characters called her "Mrs. Scrooge" with hateful smirks on their faces.

I also watched a movie whose title I unfortunately missed, as well as perhaps the first twenty minutes, but it was about some guy who was in an accident and lost his memory, basic motor skills, social graces, etc. and had to be re-trained by his long-suffering wife and three daughters. I almost cried, so then I had to distract myself by playing spider solitaire and calling my friend Molly.

Okay, I just saw a commercial for that dumb liquor that no one drinks, Disaronno, I think it's spelled? And I swear I just heard them refer to its "warm and sexual taste." Please God, tell me they said "sensual," not "sexual," because otherwise I think I might be nauseated. Actually, I still am, either way.

Happy @%&*$ holidays!

I bought myself a really cute new coat this afternoon, an off-white, stylish, momentary antidote to the winter blahs. It's so cute. I love it. I shouldn't have, but it wasn't that expensive..

Anyway, I was getting into my car (and safely out of view of the store, because for some reason I not only thing everyone's watching me, but they're interested in what I'm doing) when I decided to go ahead and put it on. It was almost six, and dark. Cold. Miserable. (Can you tell I'm more of a spring/summer person?) So I was standing in the half-empty parking lot, removing my sweater and leaning into my car to remove my new lovely coat from the bag, etc. when I realized a car was inching towards me on my right. I glance over (noting at least four empty spots in the very near vicinity, and some actually closer to the shops), and this incredibly bitchy and impatient looking woman was obviously intent on easing into the spot to the left of my car, but was flummoxed by my standing there rooting around in my car with the driver's door open. Okay, I have a fucking Corolla. Even with all the doors open, it still fits within the white lines. She was driving some huge, gas-guzzling piece of crap SUV and glaring at me.

But my automatic instinct was to be nice (damn. need to work on that.) and so I sort of squished myself against the car, pulled the door in, and gave her a dorky apologetic smile. Her responding look was exasperation with a healthy dose of pure contempt, and maybe just a drop of "I'd like to run you over now and smile maniacally as your internal organs explode within you."

Before I even the damn coat on, she was parked and marching as hatefully as one can toward the shopping center. Bitch.

Would it kill some people to be pleasant? I mean, as evil as I am in my own head, I think I do a pretty good job of pushing it down and faking nice with everyone.

And now that I've shared this obnoxious moment with you all, I can let go and re-attain my inner peace. Om.

Plavix

Has anyone else out there seen these commercials for Plavix, some kind of medication that's supposed to lessen the chance of getting a blood clot, or something?

I mention it because it irks me, this commercial. I swear it was written by someone whose first language wasn't English, because it's just a little off. What am I talking about?

Okay. It starts out with some kind of dumb mock testimonial, and I've seen two versions.. One refers to "Bob" and one "Carol." Now, the one with "Carol" is perhaps more amusing because the two variations essentially follow the same script except for different gender pronouns.

Anyway, it goes something like, "At 5'9", Carol is a formidable woman. But she was no match for something smaller than a pencil point. That something was a clot." At this point it goes on to extoll the benefits of Plavix, blabbity-blah, and at the end, once again, the voiceover warns: "No matter how formidable you are, YOU, too, are no match for a dangerous clot!"

For some reason the word clot is really starting to gross me out. I've never heard a blood clot just referred to as a clot, and goddamnit, that commercial bothers me. I kinda wish they still wouldn't let drug companies advertise on TV. All it does is make everyone borderline hypochondriacs. Plus the commercials are annoying.

Good times.

So lately, other than getting a lovely manicure and pedicure and attacking the pile of debris that seems to perpetually overtake my mail basket, I've been playing this game. Try it. It's good for the ol' winter blues.

Listening to the CD's just ain't the same

A friend of mine with whom I frequently play pool told me yesterday that the title of my future autobiography ought to be I Scratched on the Eight Ball. Heh. heh. Very witty, C. Thanks a bunch.

More appropriate, I think, would be, I Almost Got to See This Kick-ass Show, BUT.. because that seems to be a recurring theme in my life lately. I swear those crew scheduling SOB's down at HQ are plotting this just to try to break me.

Earlier this summer, I was in Limerick, Ireland, the day Juliette Lewis' band, Juliette & the Licks, played at a bar within walking distance of my hotel, but had to catch a flight out of there that night. Now, I've heard they suck, but who cares? I love her in movies (esp. Kalifornia) and it'd still have been cool to say I was there.

Later in the summer, I was in San Diego one day when I learned that the Violent Femmes would be playing a free(!) show there that night, several hours after I was scheduled to depart. O, how bitter am I?

And most recently, I was getting ready to head out of Seattle when I heard Bright Eyes (a band I personally love) was going to be playing there that night. This time, I actually could've stayed as my official work was over, but it would've cost me a few hundred bucks to get myself home, stay an extra night, etc. and, admittedly, I couldn't be bothered. Damnit.

Now, I'm all geared up for another disappointment, 'cause two of my friends' bands are both playing in the same venue, the same night, here in Charleston.. It's Best of All Breathing and Action City Blackout, Dec. 3rd, at the Village Tavern in Mt. Pleasant, if you're curious. Anyway, I won't know my schedule for December for a couple more weeks but I'm trying not to get my hopes up, here.

ABC Execs, read this!

Wow, Desperate Housewives really sucks this season. What the hell is going on? The writers are spinning in this sad, mad circles trying (desperately) to hold on to our attention, and it's obvious! There has been absolutely no character development this season, save for one moment of Gabrielle's character going, "Gee, it might not be so bad to be pregnant and married after all!" after a reunion with her shallow model friends. Nope, there's only been more stupid stunts designed to shock us all, which we've all seen coming from, like, whatever main drag it is that leads to Wisteria Lane. I hate it when this happens to shows - they're so consumed with and boggled by their success with the first season, they resort to running pitiful laps around their old plotlines. bleehh.

Grey's Anatomy is a pretty decent show with several characters I enjoy, two of them NOT being the hot doctor and his wife who can't even scrounge up enough chemistry to have a realistic fight, this being all the more noticeable as each episode is sprinkled with scenes of hot doctor and Meredith repeatedly accidentally sharing the same elevator and reacting alternately with smoldering glances and martyred silences. What is wrong with TV shows that they can't ever let the two most prominent characters share a successful romance anymore? It's always back-and-forth, torture the audience.. and then MAYBE they get together at the last possible moment, in the last episode as the credits are beginning to slide across their bodies, a la Friends' Ross and Rachel. Wtf? That kind of shallow victory of romance over, um, no romance is not at all satisfying to audiences. We want to watch the hot people swooning all over each other and frolicking through flower-speckled fields, cause all we're planning on doing is getting up in a few minutes to take our leftovers out of the microwave and then maybe pick some cat hairs off our sweatpants. It's about vicarious living! So don't give us characters with too miserable of lives - we like to know they're capable of misery, but at the end of the day the whole point is to escape our own misery.. Wow, that's deep. ..(sob)

Meanwhile, Lost is fucking amazing. I'm considering putting all of my loved ones on a timeframe in which they must watch it, or court being blackballed out of my inner circle. This show is perhaps the most original and thought-provoking series since Twin Peaks. I daresay my faith in the general public has been partially restored by the positive response Lost has generated. How do I love thee, Lost? Let's see. Most importantly, the characters are well-developed, thanks to the use of backstory through flashbacks, so we give a damn about them. There's romance, action, adventure, supernatural elements, heroes, anti-heroes, major subversion of what was a tired genre (Survivor, anyone?), philosophy (thanks, Locke), hotness (thank YOU, Sawyer!), humor (Hurley), and more all tied together by an overriding sense of foreboding and mystery. Ahh. My cup runneth over on Wednesday nights. Oh and, my favorite character is Sayid. Is that how you spell it? I've had people criticize me for favoring a former member of the Iraqui Republican Guard, blah blah blah, but this is fiction, so shut the fuck up. He's just a good character - a tortured soul, filled with wisdom, regret, hope..? I like him because he's capable of anything. He's lived his life to extremes before and now, on the island, it's no different. Whatever. I just don't want him killed off.

Oh yeah!

And, by the way, I didn't make it home from work until the 9th and the bach. party was to be planned and take place by the 11th - so I really wasn't just being lazy about calling people back. Really.

Hi!

Open Letter to everyone I have inexplicably not called recently:

Hello, loved ones, liked ones, and barely tolerated ones (I'll let you all sort that out.. haha). I realize that lately I've been incommunicado lately, and for that I have no excuse suitable!

Last night was my best friend's bachelorette party, and I guess I was just stressed out beforehand that I was responsible for everyone's fun.. Of course, I shouldn't have been. The bride is much more laid back about everything than she gives herself credit for. (She now refers to herself exclusively in third person as "Bridezilla.") But then the success of my efforts (i.e. party favors, champagne, cake, etc.) sort of threw me into a giddy euphoria in which much alcohol was imbibed.

So, all that culminated into a literal "falling down drunk" state for me, and a strange cell phone call interlude that I've pieced together since - an ex-boyfriend telling me he'd just broken up with his current girlfriend and me leaping to his defense, calling her a bitch, telling him that he was worth being loved by someone better, etc. etc. Which, luckily enough, would probably have been my (much more understated) reaction, had I been sober.

Oh well. So now I've spent the day battling a ferocious hangover and watching a Laguna Beach marathon. It's like cotton candy for the brain.

So anyway, guys, I swear I'll be better now that my major maid-of-honor event is out of the way. Esp. since I just bought some new jeans I think are nicely butt-flattering and would like to take them out.

Love,
Me

Daring to dream!

7:50 p.m., Pacific Time.

ETD? 11:25 a.m. tomorrow morning.
Destination? Home, at last! Homeward bound, damnit, I finally am.

I'm getting a little antsy because technically they could call me in a few hours and go, "Ummm, err.. yes. This is your alert to let you know you've been extended!" Extended being a horribly dirty word to me at the moment.

My best friend's wedding is on the 19th so it would really be lovely to go home tomorrow and have ample time to help her iron out the final details and also plan the bachelorette party and everything. Plus it's crucial to spend some quality time with my cat before he disowns me.

Also, for those of you who have been following the scintillating saga of my questionable mole, I did get the results back and it was NOT malignant. Hoorah! (insert much fanfare here)

So once again, the birds are singing and things are lovely once again in the land of Airhostessia.