Bonnie Sommerville & Duncan Sheik

So as I'm looking at the Garden State soundtrack on Amazon, I realize that Zach's girlfriend, Bonnie Sommerville, has a song on it.  Bonnie freakin' Sommerville, aka Mona from Friends, aka Peter Gallagher's coworker on the OC.  I can only assume the song sucks.  Maybe I'm just jealous, b/c she's seen Zach naked.  Probably.  I actually posted a comment on his blog for the movie. (Lame) Maybe he'll read it.  Maybe he'll say, "this girl seems really cool" and he'll email me.  We'll have an internet relationship at first, seeing as how he's so busy promoting the movie.  I'm better over email than I am in person anyway.  Plus, he needs time to call things off with Bonnie.  He'll say to her, "It's not you, it's just that I met someone better."  Then he'll come home to LA, we'll meet for the second time (after our encounter at Hotel Cafe a year ago), we'll start making out hard core in public (oh yeah, I'll meet him at the airport- I'll have a clever sign so he knows who I am), I'll move in with him, and we'll live happily ever after.  In reality, this will never happen, you and I both know this.  Especially if he ever reads this, I'm sure I'll automatically (and most likely deservedly) be labeled "stalker".  Please, I'm too lazy to be a stalker.  That involves research and following people and what not.  I tried it once.  When I was in high school, there was a rumor that Matthew McConaughey was in town (Longview, TX...never heard of it?  not surprised) and he was driving a white van somewhere in this one neighborhood.  So my girlfriends (as my grandmother would call them) and I went driving around looking for it.  We found a white van, but I think it was the cable company.  That could have been his cover, but we didn't check it out.  Okay, moving on from this psycho babble...I just looked up the soundtrack for A Home at the End of the World and discovered that Duncan Sheik scored it.  Duncan Sheik?  I vaguely remember them/him (is it a guy or a band?  probably a guy...nevermind).  He had some song that was popular years ago that I've now forgotten.  I just looked it up- it was called "Barely Breathing".  I'm remembering mediocrity.  But can't recall the tune. 
Reagan

Past, Present, and Future

Sometimes I wonder what happened to certain people I've known at one time or another in my life.  Meaning: where are they now?  And do they ever think, "Hey, I wonder what Reagan's up to these days?"  Usually it's friends I've lost touch with from either high school or college.  But then there are the random people I remember.  Bobby Kahey.  Does he still work as a cashier at Albertsons?  B/c that's the last thing I remember him doing, so he must still be there, at that same check out line, with that same expression that I'm the last person he wanted to see.  Probably b/c I made fun of him.  Not directly, but I laughed when others did.  They had to names for him.  Blow-jobby Gay-hee (weird and yet clever in a way) and Skabi (b/c he loved Ska and talked about it way more than Ska should be talked about).  We were 17/18ish at the time, and I think that's a little old to be calling someone names.  But we were young, even if it didn't seem so at the time.  Looking back, now I know.  I also wonder about Cara Wonders.  I heard many things after high school.  1) She was impregnated by this guy at another high school and tried to kill the baby by hitting a volleyball against her stomach.  Isn't this the sickest rumor?  Honestly, who came up with this?  It's like all they knew about her was that she was on the volleyball team, so they used the only info they had to make up something horrible.  2) She went to college at an all girls school and became a lesbian.  This could be true, it could happen.  Very typical of the small town I grew up in, spread a rumor that someone's, don't say it, ho-mo-sex-ual, and it's the talk of the town.  We only had two gay guys in our school that were actually "out" and they were both ridiculed, one worse than the other b/c he wasn't as flamboyant and therefore more of a target for teasing.  Like he was hiding something.  Like calling him "gay" was an insult.  He was.  Stop trying to turn a fact into a dirty word.  I've recently reconnected with few friends from both high school and college.  I just started thinking it was the saddest thing in the world that I used to know these people so well, see them every day, and now I don't know anything about their lives.  And this happens all the time.  Just because I've emailed or called them doesn't mean we're caught up and things are the way they used to be.  Most likely, I won't call again.  I have new people in my life.  I can't hold onto everyone in my past.  It's just weird to me, that's all.
Reagan

I need you so much closer

I literally just said, "It's all good."  I'm not even kidding.  A client apologized about her fax not working and that's when it came out.  I almost wanted to correct myself.  So the other night after "Garden State" as Ashley and I were leaving the Grove, I saw Brandon from "Blow Out" eating outside at this restuarant.  Instead of just smiling at the fact that I saw a reality TV star (I use this term loosely), I pointed and semi-shouted, "Hey Ashley, it's Brandon."  Then I just started laughing, astonished at my bravado.  So Brandon, if you're out there, I apologize for bringing attention to you, I know you never wanted fame (a ha ha), you just want to cut hair.  "I thought we were hair stylists, not tough guys"  Okay...last night instead of going to meet my friend Thesy at Barney's Beanery, which I've promised to do every week and have flaked every time, I stayed home and wallowed in my own self pity.  I would say it was depressing, but it kind of wasn't.  I watched this week's Six Feet Under, which I missed on Sunday.  Excellent as usual.  Especially loved the scene when Clair and her friends started singing along to Death Cab.  I want to recreate that. Then I took a bath and listened to Air's score from the Virgin Suicides.  Whenever I'm stressed, I like to take a bath and hold my head underwater.  Sounds a little weird, right?  Try it, it works.  Work is starting to get busy.  I had to stay late last night and it pissed me off.  And now I have more sh*t to do.  I complain when it's dead, I complain when it's busy as hell, why can't there be a middle ground?
Reagan

Religion, anyone?

So I just read that Target will be selling Kabbalah string.  I blame this on Madonna.  Now every celebrity and their f*cking dog is practicing Kabbalah.  Or claiming to...all it takes is a little red string fashioned into a bracelet.  This is like the WWJD fad of the mid-90's.  What else can we make into a marketable product?  Here are a few ideas (all based on the religion on which I was raised, Chrisitanity- feel free to offer ideas on Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, etc...anything that can make money and give you automatic religion street cred):
1.  Bible belts: Yes, it's a play on the region in which I grew up.  Anyone laughing?  No?  Okay, I'm thinking, scriptures or names of prophets on leather, maybe with gold lamet lettering.  It would be all the rage.
2.  Passion tees:  Someone already stole my "Jesus is my homeboy" idea.  F*ckers.  So now, I want to see some shirts with clips from this Mel Gibson opus.  Who wouldn't love a Jesus on the cross tee?  I'm going to hell, aren't I?
3.  Cross skateboards:  Sure, they would be hard to maneuver, but how awesome would you look  trying to glide down a stair rail while keeping it real with the Lord.  I sound like Pastor Skip in "Saved".  He was cool.  "Who's down with G-O-D?"
Now I'm thinking about "Saved" and how hilarious it was.  So out of pure boredom, I'm going to post a few of my favorite quotes.  Enjoy.

Hilary Faye: Mary, turn away from Satan. Jesus, he loves you.
Mary: You don't know the first thing about love.
Hilary Faye: [Hilary Faye throws a Bible at Mary] I am *filled* with Christ's love!


Mary: [about the Virgin Mary] I know this is wrong, but do you ever wonder if she just made the whole thing up? I mean, it's a pretty good one. It's not like anyone can ever use virgin birth as an excuse again.


Tia: Sorry about Dean's faggotry.


Cassandra: What's the only reason a Christian girl comes downtown to the Planned Parenthood clinic?
Roland: To plant a pipe bomb?
Cassandra: Okay, two reasons.


Veronica: Roland is so blessed to have such a thoughtful sister. You know, in countries like China, Hilary Faye would probably have been killed at birth. Hilary Faye: And then where would you be, Roland?
Roland: China.


Trudy Mason: Patrick has recently returned from South Africa where he worked as a missionary and just completed a world tour as part of the Christian Skateboarders Association.
Cassandra: Been hittin' the board for the Lord? God, is nothing sacred to you people?

 
Hilary Faye: [at a shooting range] Us Christian girls have got to learn to protect ourselves. I mean, sure Jesus could restore my mental and spiritual virginity, especially if I lost it to some [cocks gun] rapist, but who wants that? I'm saving myself for marriage, and I'll use force if necessary.

 

Garden state of mind

I know there are a few of you awaiting my thoughts on Garden State.  Here goes nothing (if you're expecting a movie review, this isn't it). I was nervous going into the movie, b/c I've built it up so much ever since I was aware of its conception, I thought I might be disappointed.  It's kind of like when people meet me in person after hearing so many great and wonderful things- it's a bit of a let down.  But enough about me.  Garden State was fantastic!  I absolutely loved it.  The time has come that the rest of the world shall know the greatness that is Zack Braff.  Well, they probably already do, but this just solidifies it.  The best part about the movie is not necessarily the story, but the characters.  Natalie Portman, who someone said peeked at 12 and I agree, was awesome.  Now I can remove "Where the Heart is" and "Anywhere but Here" as films that come to mind when the name Natalie Portman is mentioned.  And Peter Sarsgard.  Oh Peter, you're just amazing in everything you do.  Even this really weird movie I saw at SXSW whose name I can't remember.  Something to do with you living with an agoraphobic woman and she suspects you're a murderer but you're actually a nice guy who helps her to face her fears.  Anyway, I digress.  The movie definitely had its overly sentimental moments, but I didn't care.  I almost wanted to shed a tear in support of those moments b/c I liked the movie as a whole.  It's one of those movies where I left the theater happy b/c I'd seen such a great movie and I couldn't wait to talk to Ashley about how much we loved it, but it also left me depressed b/c I'm not Natalie Portman, I didn't make out with Zach, and I'm unsure if I'll ever feel anything like the characters in the movie.  Truth is, I do.  I'm lost, confused, sad, happy, f*cked up- and many other things, but I don't have time to list them all.  It's just not as glamorous b/c people aren't paying to watch me feel these things.  I guess the biggest thing is I'm so hard up for someone to be really into me.  B/c I know I'm constantly meeting people I find fascinating and want to spend as much time as possible getting to know (but that's a little bit of bullsh*t, b/c this usually ends after a week).  I don't know what my point is, I guess I just want someone to feel so much for me and me to feel that way back.  Completely mutual feelings of liking/caring/loving/what have you.  I found myself completely enthralled by the oddities of Natalie Portman's character, and I thought to myself, "I'm weird like that".  In a different way, but still weird.  Now I just need a Zach Braff aka Andrew Largeman to find that fascinating, not strange.  You know what though, I can talk in circles about what my "problem" is, but maybe in reality I just need to shut the f*ck up about it.  I'm going to try that right now.
Reagan

a big fat fatty

I'm so bored right now I could gouge my eyes out.  Wait, why would I want to do that?  How would that make anything better?  On top of the boredom, I ate too much at lunch and now just want to go to sleep.  I wish napping wasn't so frowned upon at work.  My boss just walked by with dog in a bag, but not one of those little purse dogs.  A medium-sized dog.  It made me laugh, and I'm still kind of laughing just thinking about it.  It only happened two minutes ago, I'm sure I'll get over it soon enough.  I'll find something else to laugh about.  Ooooh, like the time Conan was doing the "what if they had a baby" bit on his show, and they had a picture of Leonardo DiCaprio and Giselle- obviously Conan had yet to see the picture, b/c he was taken aback by how much weight he'd gained, so he says, "I guess he's preparing for his next role in....A big fat fatty."  And it was the way he said it that was the funniest, but I guess I'm writing this for Ashley and Emily b/c they know exactly what I'm talking about and can hear it in their heads right now.  Sorry for the rest of you, but it's still funny, trust me. 

Reagan

Poker? I don't even know her

Yes, this is the second time I've used this expression in too short of time.  I don't know why I find it so amusing.  So...poker party last night.  I'm still upset over my loss.  I did come in first place of the losers, so maybe that should count for something.  Can't help but think what I could have done with the $50 in the pot.  I could have paid my overdue college loan payment.  Sallie Mae would have liked that.  She's so nice, she always sends me little reminders telling me all the different ways I can pay my bill.  I also could have paid my cell phone bill.  Instead, I think I'll just wait until they call and threaten to cancel my service before I take action.  I could have used it on groceries.  But who needs groceries when you have a couple cans of tuna and a box of cereal?  I was planning on starting this new diet where I don't eat anything, so it all works out.  Even though I lost, I had a fun doing it.  The game started out with 11 people and in the span of 3 hours wittled down to just Justin and myself.  He had about $40, I had $10.  My only chance was to try to double up.  And I couldn't get a decent hand to save my life.  So I just went all in on a pair of fours.  And I was unsuccessful, b/c the a*hole got two aces.  I didn't stand a chance.  I think I might be dwelling on this a little too much, but what else do I have to think about?  Work?  I wonder what I would think about if it wasn't always about something that had pissed me off.  Who knows, maybe I would think about bunnies and babies and other happy things like that.  Rainbows?  I'm an idiot.  Who comes up with sh*t like that?  Tonight I'm going to see a sneak preview of Garden State...I couldn't be more excited.  Well, unless that preview was followed by sweet love making b/w myself and Mr. Braff.  Yeah....I'll report back tomorrow on how awesome it is. 
Reagan

I take it back

I feel kind of weird, having written about the guy from Saturday.  I'm used to just ranting about things that suck.  Now that I put it out there that I like this guy, I feel like karma is going to kick my ass and f*ck things up for me.  It likes to do that.  I think it's maybe the karma that makes me manic.  B/c it waits until things are going good, at this point really good, this month has been awesome, then it shows up at my door, "Hey, I'm here to f*ck up your life.  It won't take long."  I'm too dramatic, b/c honestly, my life is not bad.  Extremely bad things don't happen to me.  So what if maybe a guy I want to call doesn't- I don't cry over it.  I can't even think of the last time I gave a sh*t.  And if someone out there can, don't remind me.  It's not worth remembering.  At this point, I should just focus on worrying about what the hell I want to do with my life rather than wondering when some guy is going to call.  I can't help it though- I obsess.  It's what I do.  I'd like to paint a pretty picture of it, but it's actually pretty annoying.  And other than this moment right now in which I'm talking about it, for most of the time I keep it in my head.  And it stays there, festering, ready to explode, with thoughts of a million different scenarios, a series of probabilities and likelihoods.  All over a f*cking phone call.  You know, maybe I shouldn't be saying any of this.  I don't want to put that crazy vibe out there.  Just think of it as me being neurotic, b/c that sounds cuter than crazy.  I know I'm neurotic.  I've embraced this fact.  Actually, forget neurotic.  Let's call it quirky.  Yeah, quirky sounds good.  It's something you would read about a funny actress who lacks the typical hollywood star looks of say, Kate Hudson.  B/c frankly, Kate Hudson isn't funny.  Julia Roberts isn't funny.  Janeane Garafalo- now she's funny.  Some might even say "quirky".
Reagan

Continued...

Now where was I...oh yeah, Saturday night.  So yes, I did get some action.  So much for being a born again...though that was more from circumstance rather than my desire to lead a good christian life.  One of my favorite things to do after a night of drunken fooling around is to wake up and talk.  I'm always in the best mood at this point (probably b/c I'm no longer sexually frustrated). Nothing serious, not about "feelings" or anything like that, mainly joking around, but I love to lay in bed and talk.  Love it, love it, love it.  So that's what we did all day Sunday.  Oh, it was great.  Usually, I leave as soon as I wake up, I always want to get the hell out before they can think "how do I get her to leave".  This is messed up, I sound like a slut.  I probably would have left, but I didn't have my car.  And I'm glad I didn't.  He makes me laugh, and as my friends know, there's nothing I love more than a funny guy.  It's a real turn on for me.  Eventually, we willed ourselves to get out of bed and we went and had lunch.  Now, I'm just waiting for him to call.  Hoping that he actually will.  I usually think I have good instincts as to whether a guy will call or not, and I have a good feeling at this point.  So we shall see.  I'll just try not to obsess.  I'm in total girl mode, giddy w/ excitment and nervous as hell as to what will happen next.  Stay tuned...
Reagan

Monday, bloody Monday

So....the weekend.  Oh, the weekend.  I miss you already.  Friday night, made it a double feature evening with Napoleon Dynamite (funny as hell) and A Home at the End of the World (great, wonderful, loved it).  It was nice to catch up on some long overdue movie watching.  Lately, my attention span has been shot and I can only concentrate on things in increments of 30 mins.  Even when reading magazines, I just read the captions under the pictures- the articles are too overwhelming for me.  I need to get over this.  Saturday, went to the beach, but was sure to wear a cover up so as not to re-burn my now peeling lower lower posterior.  Didn't go swimming, seeing as how the water was freezing ass.  My friends from the east coast would disagree with this statement, but I'm from Texas- I need the water temp to be 70 + with no wind factor for me to consider doing anything more than dipping my feet in.  So I just layed out, completely relaxed, wish I was back there right now.  Aaahhh....
So, on to Saturday night.  Mat's bday party.  Had a blast.  It was just one of those great nights where I liked everyone I met.  No conversation sucked, there wasn't a moment where I thought to myself "How the hell can I get out of this?"  Usually in those situations, it's either "I have to go to the bathroom" or "I need another drink"  Two great, if not lame, excuses.  I'm suddenly having a flashback to an extended conversation about the difference b/c a midget and a dwarf.  Weird.  And speaking of weird, around two in the morning, this kid who seemed to be about 14 showed up toting around a bottle of alchol, claiming to be with some guy named "Wilmer."  I thought it was strange, but at this point I was so wasted I just went with it.  I don't know who this "Wilmer" is or why he was hanging out with the little guy, but some questions are just left without answers.  As the night wound down and the party thinned out, pairing off became inevitable.  Let's be honest here- I went to the party planning to hook up.  And hook up I did.  It wasn't a difficult feat, guys+girls+alchol=sex or some variation of the act.   Shit, I actually have work to do.  More on this later (I'm such a tease)
Reagan

"No no Ricky, you promised."

These are the words Winona Ryder screamed into her cell phone while in a "trendy LA restuarant" bathroom.  I wonder what the hell this "Ricky" (I say that as if it's allegedly his name) promised her.  What's up Noni?  What's going on?   Hmmm...I wonder.
Scenario 1:
Winona:  No no Ricky, you promised.
Ricky: Why do you keep calling?  I don't know who you are.
Winona:  It's me, Winona Ryder.  Star of such films as "Autumn in New York" and "Lost Souls"
Scenario 2:
Winona:  No no Ricky, you promised.
Ricky:  B*tch, I told you, I can't get you anymore illegal prescription drugs.  I can't help you get high anymore!  (This is a lame joke...about 6 months too late- why don't I just make a joke about shoplifting)
Scenario 3:
Winona:  No no Ricky, you promised.
Ricky:  I'm sorry, but I'm going to sell this low budget porn movie you made when you were a struggling actress.  I want to make the big bucks like Rick Solomon and that guy selling the Cameron Diaz S & M videos.
This is the dumbest post ever.  I don't know why I'm even about to hit the publish button.  I should abort.  Honestly, I just liked the title. 
Reagan

5 ways to screw up your life

These examples were taken from the life of one of my high school friends who's such a f*ck up her actions often leave me speechless.  To maintain her anonymity, I will call her CG.  (Most likely you either know who she is or don't have a clue b/c you've never met her- there is no grey area)
1.  Drop out of a prestigious university to attend community college.  While in that community college, fail all your classes.  Later, lie to everyone about attending college in preparation for nursing school, when you're actually just f*cking around.
2.  Lie to all your friends about your sexual promiscuity.  Tell them that the things people are saying about you are untrue, that you only mess around, but are saving the sex for marriage.  So then they defend your name anytime it's dragged through the mud.  In reality, you are f*cking anything that moves.
3.  Develop a secret drug habit.  Find a circle of creepy friends who like to experiment.  #2 and #3 can be combined- get high then have sex.  It's fun!
4.  Move to Nevada with your drug dealer boyfriend.  When the people you're staying with kick you out, keep going west to California.  Move back home when you run out of money/drugs. 
5.  Get pregnant, but don't quit those partying ways.  Because who doesn't love an unhealthy baby.  Why don't you just ruin a child's life- you've already ruined your own...hey, you're two for two.  I mean, I'm pro choice, but it's abortion or have the baby- don't try to kill it with alcohol, cigarettes, and excessive drug use.
This may seem harsh, but frankly, I don't care anymore.  There's only so much bullsh*t you can take from one person.  Just when you think CG is ready to straighten the f*ck, she abandons you at the airport.  Good ol' unreliable CG...the only thing you can rely on is that she will f*ck up again. 
RW

Sex and Comedy

I always have such a great time when I go over to Alisa's for lunch- it just really beats the hell out of staying at the office and watching reruns of the Cosby Show in the conference room.  Now, I think it's not even the Cosby Show, but just Cosby, where it's not even the Huxtables and Doug E. Doug plays their son or something like that.  To this I say "no thank you."  Today we talked about the fact that I need to get some action, some play, some whatever the hell you call it.  I believe my exact words were "I need to get laid."  I've said this before, but it always sounds funny to me b/c I don't think that I put out the vibe of being a slut or even very sexual for that matter.  But I'm a woman, and I have needs.  I'm so immature.  I still laugh everytime I say "I want to do him" or any reference to "doing it."  Why do I think this is hilarious, I don't know,  I just go with it.  I must warn any suitors- I don't think I'm really awesome at the sex, I'd say I'm mediocre at best.  I don't know if I should so openly divulge that info.  As my mom says, "Not everyone can be good at everything"- but I don't think she had this in mind.  I've always thought of myself as a good kisser, until the last guy I kissed.  We just didn't kiss well and it made me doubt myself.  But now I'm convinced it was all him.  I was always scared to put my tongue in there- it was like I was outside a lion's cage with a stick- I would barely put it in and he would attack, then I would retreat, wait a moment, then prepare to go in again, until after a few times I showed the lion I was his friend, he didn't have to bite me.  By this point, I didn't want to play with the lion anymore.  I'm so bad at metaphors, yet obsessed with them.  I wish I could only speak in metaphors, like a little Dr. Phil.  My Dr. Phil impression involves just making up sayings that don't make sense whatsoever..ex:  "You can take a rat out of the cage but you can't stick a needle in a haystack."   Huh?  I never said I was good at impressions.  I used to have a few bad impressions I really sucked at so much it was funny- Jerry Seinfeld, Julia Child, and a few others I can't remember.  So bad, so bad.  I also had a lame comedy routine I performed for my friends one night when we were drunk...I think it began with "So, that Micheal Jackson's weird, right?"  What was I thinking? 
Reagan

I can't drive 35

Is it Friday yet?  This morning I actually flipped off another driver.  Gave them the finger, the bird as some say.  Flipped off...I hate the way that sounds.  Don't know why.  I was waiting to turn right at a light on Fountain, and I just didn't feel like zipping into oncoming traffic, so I thought I'd just wait for it to turn green.  However, b*tch in the car behind me was not pleased with this decision and decided to lay on her horn.  It sounded as if she'd passed out and fell on it, like the sound after a car wreck- I should have gotten out to make sure she was okay.  But she was, I could tell, b/c she was screaming at me inside her car.  What?  What's that you say?  I can't hear you.  (I shouldn't make fun, I have been known to do the muted screaming myself...quite often).  So I decided it was appropriate to flip her off as I turned the corner.  I have the most non-threatening middle finger in existence.  Just doesn't convey the "f*ck you" that's intended.  Okay, so she sped past me b/c she was in such a hurry- but as she zoomed around me, she got stuck behind a garbage truck and I just laughed and laughed and laughed all the way to the light.  And then a little after I turned onto the next street.  And just a little bit now.  Seriously, I let out quite the maniacal laugh.  Did I just spell that right, maniacal?  Hmm...
Reagan

I can't stop blogging

Old obsession made new again- Adrian Grenier.  Watched Entourage last night, which I like, can't figure out why, don't know if I will after the next episode.    Yeah, but Adrian- I want to do him.  Big time. 
I need to get a life.
Word of the day: hate-fuck
Definition:  Unsure of exact meaning, it kind of speaks for itself
Used in a sentence:  I want to hate-fuck Paris Hilton *Ved, 2003
Reagan

Who's the big winner?

I have to apologize to Jake G...I'm sure you're going through a hard time and I was insensitive.  I mean, you guys had a dog together.  I just want you to know I'm here for you, as a shoulder to cry on or a rebound f*ck.  Good times.  I must let you all know, I have won passes to an advance screening of "Garden State" from indie 103.1.  This makes me happy, b/c I never win anything.  Maybe it's a sign that my luck is changing...or not.  Does anyone out there know what movie preview plays an acoustic version of "Everlasting Love" by what sounds like U2?  I can't get it out of my head, I seem to remember some movie preview that sucked at first then changed my mind once I heard this song.  The power of music.  Also, saw promo for a movie called "Dear Wendy"...everyone should watch out for this, looks amazing.  Is it wrong that I think Jamie Bell is hot?  Is he even legal yet?  Do I even care?  Sick.
Reagan

So you're saying I have a chance

So frustrating, apparently the website was down, so I couldn't post the best news ever....are you ready....I'm sure if you're obsessed like me you already know...but....Kirsten D and Jake G are no longer.  It's true, imdb doesn't lie.  It's actually sad how excited this news made me, I actually said "woohoo".  Not outloud, but over IM.  Either way, that's a new low.  So yeah for that news.  And in other news, the poker party Ashley and I are having next Monday is having a bigger turn out than expected (orig. estimation- 5 people; new estimation- 15+ people).  Now obviously 15 people doesn't sound like a lot, but for one game of poker when we only have 200 chips (buying more chips is on our list of things to do) and a small apartment...it's going to be interesting.  I guess we'll just have to kick people out of the game quickly and make them go to the losers lounge (aka the kitchen).  No one joined in on my puke/not puke and that's okay- I'm not mad.  I forgive you guys.  But just remember, I'm bored off my ass at work, anything that can entertain me for 5 minutes helps.  So I'm adding another installment...and here it is:
Puke:  Nip/Tuck (literally)
Not puke:  A new french film titled "Bob is not gay" (hilarious)
Au revoir-
Reagan

First French, Now Improv

I'm always trying to find new things to entertain myself at work.  Anything to make the day drag a little less.  I used to always do the crossword on yahoo first thing everyday until I realized that not only could I not finish one, but I never even got close.  I don't need the yahoo game masters telling me I'm stupid (in their passive-agressive way).  So I moved on....to learning French over the internet.  I signed up on this website that would send me two emails a week with lessons in the language of love (that's French, right?).  I did the first lesson...I think it was on verb usage or something like that.  Then I never did another lesson again.  But I still get the emails.  I hope Laura at aboutfrench.com isn't mad at me for being such a bad student.  Or should I say, "Je ne suis pas l'etudiante bonne".  Sounds good, no?  Okay, so after my french lesson ended, I moved on to the blog to fill my time.  And that it does as you can tell...I post like 3 times a day, would post more if it wouldn't make me seem so pathetic esp. since I'm technically talking to no one.  You know it, I know it, blog=imaginary internet friend.  Yeah...another thing I like to do to cure the cripling boredom is play on imdb.com.  I'll look up an old movie, such as "Don't tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead" or "Rad" (just a few examples) to see what actors from those movies are up to now.  Usually it's a few TV guest spots, a drug overdose here and there, or success (this is rare...Christina Applegate, count your blessings- well, I wouldn't have said that before- "The Sweetest Thing", "A View from the Top" & other shit- but after "Anchorman" my opinion has changed).  So where was I?  Oh yeah, so now my new thing, it's not really anything having to do with entertaining me at work, but I've been looking for an improv class for Matt and myself.  I need something else besides working (which I hate) or drinking (which I can't afford) or hanging around my apartment (which I do way too much).   FUCK..  Had to let that out, I'm tired of answering the phones at work, I hate everyone.  Everyone.  I just wanted to sit at my desk for 10 goddamn minutes and the receptionist had to buzz me.  10 minutes.  I'm leaving, I can't take this anymore. 
Reagan
That was really dramatic.  I'll be back after lunch.

On a serious note...

I haven't taken my medication in almost a week...believe me, it's no "Garden State" experience...I'm not truly experiencing life for the first time..it's more like going through hell.  So there you have it.  I had a nervous breakdown/panic attack at the body shop this morning.  There was crying, semi-convulsing, as people watched, shocked, unsure of what to do.  I didn't care, at that point I just wanted to curl up on their sofa and go to sleep.  This is unhealthy, so what if this is a "Prozac Nation" of overmedicated zombies...I needs my Zoloft.  I can't function without it.  See "body shop breakdown" if you need proof.  There was also "McDonald's Drive-thru breakdown" this weekend.  I'm pretty sure I made Ashley a little uncomfortable.  My apologies.  I know someday I should try life sans medication, don't know when that day will be, I always make excuses for why I need it.  Just like a smoker.  "I can't quit now, I'm stressed at work/life/etc."  I'm an excuses kind of girl, why should this be any different?  Last night, I started thinking again about my life/future, what I want to do, what I should be doing differently, and instead of at that moment taking action, I read a book then fell asleep on the couch at 9:00.  It was too much to think about so I gave up.  I just want to keep floating on, where my worries involve what I want to do on the weekend, not what I want to do for the rest of my life.  I whine, I complain, then I whine some more...but I don't do anything about it.  Why is this?  Anyone know, b/c I have no f*cking clue. 
Reagan

I'm a damn thief

I'm completely stealing this from mon ami Matt who stole it from some gal named Emily....but I thought it was funny and I wanted to play.  The post is titled "Puke: Not Puke"  Here is my first entry:
Puke:  Penn of Penn & Teller on Celebrity Poker Showdown
Not Puke:  Degrassi High
Feel free to comment with your own variations on this game...it might be fun!
Reagan

Weekend Recap and then some

Okay, I'm writing two posts in a row, but I'm sure my legions of fans out there are awaiting news of what I did this weekend.  Well, wait no longer, it's that time...time for a little section I like to call "What I did this weekend."  Yeah, it's not a creative title.   Anyway...let's start with Friday, shall we.
Friday:
Met up with some kids I hadn't seen in a while.  I call them the "NBC Page Kids"...b/c they all were, and some still are, in the NBC Page Program.  Another not so creative title, but it helps me identify them as a group.  After hanging out and catching up, we started off for a bar down the street...until we found out how crowded it was and Ashley and I bailed.  As I have said before, I have my 3 things I look for in a bar: 1) Not too crowded, 2) A place to sit, and 3) Drinks are relatively affordable.  This bar went against all three of these requirements.  So we quickly said our "see you laters" and were off to meet Jessica at the Red Lion.  I had never been there before....and I liked it.  We had a table outside (this is a bonus- outdoors=smoking=reagan happy even though she's sucking years off her life) and the drinks weren't too pricey and there was easy access to the bar, even though the beer maiden (she was dressed in Swedish garb) had a rather unpleasant expression on her face at all times making me feel like I was being a nuisance by ordering a drink.  Didn't stop me though, just made me feel a little uncomfortable.  With all I've written, Friday night was rather uneventful, even though it was good times had by all (meaning Ashley and myself).
Saturday:
Woke up bright and early to go to the beach with Alisa and Lisa.  For the first time since I've been in LA, I went into the ocean.  Normally I'm such a pussy and whine about how it's too cold.  But Lisa had a boogie board for each of us and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to show off my boogie-ing skills.  Or not...instead, I screamed "Oh shit" everytime a wave came crashing towards me.  I later switched to screaming "Oh no" as I realized that children were around and I didn't want to poison their vocabularies with such vulgarities.  Salt water stings, I knew this to be true, but had forgotten that blinding feeling.  Didn't stop me from having a blast, even if I had my eyes closed majority of the time.  Afterwards, we laid out so that we could become the golden brown you see in magazines (Paris Hilton, I will out -brown you yet!)  Unfortunately, I burnt the f*ck out of my ass.  Well, not my ass-ass, but the part right below it.  Now everytime I sit, I feel a pain I've never felt before and one I can't describe.  I've been continously applying aloe, something I've never had to use before, and trying anything I can to make the pain go away.  Cold compress, cold bath, lotion, aspirin, burn relief...you name it, I've applie it to my the area below my ass.  It hurts like hell, but I keep laughing about it b/c it's making me walk funny (and the immature side of me finds this hilarious).  So that was my Saturday.
Sunday:
Woke up in even more pain from the tragic beach experience.  Laid around moaning while half laughing/crying.  Afternoon not worth talking about- grocery shopping, laundry, stuff like that.  The day really started when I went to play poker with some friends- alternating b/w Texas Hold 'em and Chicago style.  I was so ready to try out my new poker skills learned from watching many hours of "Celebrity Poker Showdown" and prepare for the poker tournament Ashley and I planned for next Monday.  However, it's really hard to buy the pot (my one poker "move") when you're playing with dimes and quarters.  So that technique didn't work.  And I've come to the realization that I have absolutely no luck.  I've actually known this for a while, but when every hand I was dealt sucked royally (forgive the pun), it really drove this "no luck" theory home.  So I lost $10.  It wasn't losing money that bothered me, it was losing period.  I'm very competitive.  Side story: When I played tennis in high school, I was losing this match against a teammate (to decide ranking) and I screamed at her "I'm going to chop you up, put you in a bag, and send you to your mother!"  I'm not lying- even worse, the girl I was playing against looked like she was 12 and even had a limp.  I don't know why I would ever repeat that story, it just proves that I'm crazy/evil.  Okay, back to what I was saying.  Literally, I was pouting at the table b/c I was sucking so bad.  Hopefully this will not be the case next Monday.  It's my house people, I'm taking all your mother f*cking money.  That was me talking shit, hardcore shit.  Me actually saying that out loud would be really funny, with the Texas accent and all.  You know, this post is way too long, way too boring, and a waste of everyone's time, including mine.
Finit.
Reagan

F*ck you Enterprise Rent-a-car

This morning was the worst.  I took my car to the shop so that they could fix whatever the hell is wrong with it...it's always funny when I have to describe the problem, b/c it's basically me making a bunch of weird noises as the mechanic looks at me like I'm crazy.  I'm sure I'm not the first person to imitate an engine squeaking and convulsing.  So...they call Enterprise to come pick me up so I can rent a car so I can get to work.  But it takes them an hour to get there.  So when I say (in my bitchy, what kind of service is this way) "sure took you a long time" his response is that the body shop was hard to find.  We get in the car, and I'm not even kidding, not exaggerating whatsoever, go around the corner and we're at Enterprise.  Took less than two minutes.  Maybe the guy stopped to get ice cream?  Maybe he likes to close his eyes when he drives, therefore being unable to see the rather large sign emblazoned atop the body shop?  I don't know, but saying he got lost was not an excuse.  No sir, it was not.  Then...it took 45 mins just to get me a freakin' car.  I was irate.  And I'm not above acting like a bitch when I receive bad service.  This can be embarrassing at times (to others, I enter psycho mode and don't give a f*ck) but after a while of Joe Slow-as-hell filling out the paperwork, I started quasi yelling about how I've been waiting a g-damn hour and a half and how I had to get to work.  Next thing I know, I have my car.  The lesson kids is this:  Yelling and acting like a brat is a problem solving technique that can be applied to almost any situation. 
Reagan

Boobs, butts, thighs, and other issues

So I went to the play last night.  I like beginning sentences with "so"...then it doesn't seem to come out of nowhere.  Yeah...so the play.  The biggest problem I had with it was that it was all about body image, and girls hating their bodies, and so on....but all the actresses were skinny.  Except one who wasn't fat but wasn't as skinny...she was the funny one.  Aren't they (we) always?  So as they're spouting off their monologues, all I can think is "You don't know what fat is!!!"  And maybe that's the point, that everyone has f*cked up body issues no matter what size you are.  But f*ck the point, the message, what have you....I don't want to see a girl who's a size 2 struggling to grab the skin from her stomach and call it "fat".  If you want to have a contest, I'm game...b/c I'd kick your ass.  Okay, so I do have a messed up view of my body.  At least I'd like to think so, b/c that would mean I'm not really "squishy" as I like to say.  More cushion for the pushion, it's not the size of the boat but the motion in the ocean...and many more sayings like that.  I digress...I have to say the play was good, despite my previous complaints.  But sometimes I don't like being bombarded with such female issues...it was such a vagina fest.  Because when I watch from the outside, we (as in women) are pretty annoying.  Very annoying.  I know, I know, guys have their issues too, penis envy and what not...I'm done talking about this.  I just realized I have no more to say.  So I'll move on to latter portion of the evening...went for drinks with a few friends post play.  It was just one of those good times where the conversation was so alive, in fact, there were several going on at once.  When half our party stepped outside for a cigarette, the mood in the bar drastically changed- it was suddenly quite and seemed a little sad.  So it was fun, good times, despite the weird guy hitting on Brianne and killing our conversation as he came out to await having, as he said, "the last drag of your cigarette".  Guy, you ruined the mood and made us uncomfortable.  You should practice your moves.  
Reagan

Girl you know it's, yes you know it's, true

So I have this new thing where I can't commit to doing anything, b/c in my mind, this will eliminate any kind of flaking on my part.  This is f*cked up.  It makes me seem like some kind of diva who just has too many options (not my intention).  I end up being very vague, using words like "maybe" and "we'll see".   In reality, I never have plans.  When options do arise, it's after 3 weeks of social drought and everything falls on one night.  Why does it always happen this way?  I guess there are worse things in the world that can happen- like murder.  Oh...that took a turn for the worse.  As for this weekend, looks like I'm either going to Karoke in Culver City or drinking in Silverlake.  I love Karoke, I do...but I have to be in the Karoke mood.  Maybe the problem is that last time I "performed", at a bar called the Brass Monkey,  I sang  "Girl you know it's true" by Milli Vanilli after downing one too many rum and cokes....and the crowd looked at me like I was maming a small child.  Sadly, this was the second time I had performed this song...first time was at the place in Culver City- a little neighborhood bar filled with sketchy locals + me and my friends.  Of course, I suck at singing, I sound like a manitee being raped (whatever that sounds like...what's with the similes today?), but with Alisa, Ashley, and myself kicking it old school to the MV- well, let's just say best. performance. ever.  Okay, the whole point of this is, maybe it's the bad experience last time that has scarred me from karoke- but hopefully not for life.  Actually, the whole point was what I'm  going to do Friday.  You know, I can't make the decision now.  To wrap this up, I'm ending where I started...indecisive and unable to commit.  But at least I can't flake out.
Reagan

Meet the Nutters

Last night I was sucked into watching Showbiz Moms & Dads and I've come to a conclusion...stage parents are crazy. Well, not all of them, but of course the ones on this show are, it makes for good television. There's this one family, the Nutters, and the dad forced the entire family (7 kids + one wife) to move to a 2 bedroom apt in NY. AND he's forcing them to act. Doesn't this count as child abuse? I think it should, the kids are obviously miserable, the dad is crazy, and the mom looks like Allison Janney from "American Beauty". I just don't think any one ever on reality tv has pissed me off so much as Mr. Nutter. Okay, I need to get a life, it's official. I'm going to see a friend of a friends play tonight titled "Bodytalk: Boobs, Butts, and Thighs" then going for drinks afterwards. Hope it doesn't suck. I have to get back to work...rarely will I ever say this.
Reagan

Fully Pulled HOT Chicks

If you're like me, you have no idea what the title means (well, I didn't, but now I do). This is malibu-speak for "dating a lot of good looking girls". When Sarah wrote this to me, I thought it was a typo. I thought I would share this discovery with others. Another "so bad it's good" phrase was brought to me courtesy of Emily- it's the word "chillax"- I'm sure you can figure out its meaning. I can't help using this word on occasion, many times in response to the question "what are you doing?" I answer with "chillaxing". And I laugh to myself. I don't mind laughing alone. Another word Ms. Ems taught me was "ridonkulous" (sp?- but does it matter since it's not a real word). For a period of time, everytime someone said the word "ridiculous" I would follow with this word. It's like one level up from ridiculous. And sure, I sounded like an idiot, but it made me realize how often people use the word ridiculous. They use it a lot. And this realization had no benefit whatsoever rather than useless information. I'm fascinated by the way people talk- the way we're able to come up with what we want to say and it just happens so naturally. We don't have to think about it (unless maybe we're trying to sound eloquent, but I'm referring to everyday conversation). And how some people like to talk, others like to listen, some have the perfect balance of both abilities. I'm more of a talker if you couldn't tell, and often I have nothing to say, really. But I'm a good listener too. I think, maybe.
Reagan

Me, chapter 151

So, the writing thing I went to last night was...interesting. I guess it just wasn't what I was expecting. I thought it would be filled with people in their 20's, who all write like David Sedaris, and make witty, intellectual comments about each others work. Not true...it was indeed 5 people- myself, Joe, a high school english teacher, and two old women. Needless to say, I was skeptical. Or maybe that's not needless to say, maybe I'm just prejudice against the elderly. I decided to read a little of my "work"...meaning, random thoughts written down with no point, no direction- much like my blogs. I just wanted to get an opinion of what I could do with my writing. The HS teacher suggested I write an advice column and just use the questions as a format to go off on my own random tangents. Nice, but I don't think I could really even give the initial advice. He also said that I'm very self-involved. If I wanted to lie, I would say I was shocked, but he pretty much hit the nail on the head. I am, but I think that's completely typical for people at this stage in our lives. Or I'm just making an excuse for my self-indulgent behavior. Old woman to my left asked what I wanted to do with my life, to which I responded, "I'm undeclared". Undeclared- it's freshman year all over again. I feel lame admitting this, and I don't know why, but when I spoke at this alumni seminar, I had everyone laughing with my random (apparantly, everything is random about me) stories and quirky anecdotes and amusing mannerisms- and afterwards everyone telling me how funny I was. And I loved the high I got from this- maybe it's the attention, maybe it's that boost of self-esteem I constantly crave, whatever it is, I just want to have that feeling for the rest of my life. I just need to figure out how.
Reagan

Ready to get the hell out of here

My friend sent me a link to this website that is selling "Save Mary Kate" t-shirts and bumper stickers. They even have a mouse pad. Is it wrong that I laugh at this? I should feel no shame, that was the website's intention in the first place, to make sick people like myself laugh. This would make more sense if I could remember the website. I'm sure you get the point. As I said earlier, I'm going to this creative non-fiction workshop tonight. I'm relatively excited, should be interesting. We'll see if I actually read anything of if I'll just act as a passive observer. Aren't most observers passive by definition? Why do I ask so many rhetorical questions? Okay, I do believe time has stopped. I looked at the clock an hour ago and it read "5:41" and I looked at it now..."5:43". Seriously, an hour passed in two minutes. It's something to do with the time-space continuum. I finally tracked down my college friend Ty today...well, almost tracked down, I have his number and left a message on his answering machine. It's weird that I spent 4 years seeing him pretty much every week (every day when he dated my roommate freshman year) and then nothing. It was the saddest thing in the world to me that I didn't know what city he was living in, let alone if he was still in Texas. When he calls back, we can catch up on the past 2 years then not talk again for another year after that. That's the way it always goes, I've done the reconnect thing before, people. How will I recount the past year- I moved to LA, got a job, have this whole new life...but after I give the summary, there's no point in going into minor stories. He won't care about how drunk I was one night, or that a couple months ago I found myself at a bar talking to David from Roseanne. So much significant stuff (not the David from Roseanne thing, other stuff) has happened to me in the past year and I could probably sum it up in a few sentences...I'm all about the broad strokes. That's why I'm all about the email, I can type forever, but after talking for more than 15 minutes, my ear hurts from holding the phone and I gradually stop paying attention. I start planning my exit- will it be another call? time for dinner? an explosion outside my window? Any excuse will do, just get me off that phone. And this is why I can't keep in touch with people.
Reagan

Woe is me no longer

After reading Bre's post today, I feel inspired. It just had such a positive vibe in contrast to my incessant complaining. And you know what Bre, you and Emily are "going places"...and I'm going to ride your coat tails all the way. So, I am going to stop whining about every. little. thing. Poor me, I don't know what I want to do with my life, I can't meet the kind of guy I want to meet, I'm a quitter...it's depressing, no? So I'm going to talk about all the great things in my life.
1. My friends- they are absolutely awesome. Best people in the world, I love them all for so many different reasons. I don't need to worry about no one coming to my funeral. Side note: I want some completely inappropriate song to play at my funeral, something like Britney Spears "Toxic"...or maybe something appropriate but completely dramatic, like "Come Sail Away" by Styx. Moving on...
2. I can't think about anything else at the moment...my friends are the basis for pretty much all of my happiness. That sounds weird, I guess, but it's true. There's nothing I love more than joking around with those crazy SOB's.
Yeah, so the list thing didn't work out. I'm so manic, but a minute a go I was feeling so lost and now I realize that everything is okay. It doesn't take much.
Reagan

Lost in LA

I don't know what I want to do with my life. Am I supposed to at this point- I mean, I'm only 24. But am I going to be saying the same thing years from now..."I'm only 28"..."I'm only 35"..."I'm only 83". I need to be proactive, but I think I'm just too lazy, and maybe I should accept this fact and embrace it. For a while, I was all about planning the next move in my "career" (I use this term loosely)...I was reading scripts, books, talking to people...I was on the ball. And then it just stopped. I'm such a quitter. I always say I'm going to write...a book, a script, a story, anything- at least I'd be doing something creative, something more that watching tv or drinking. I'm too critical of myself, if I write anything my first reaction is "it's brilliant!" immediately followed by "it sucks!" I make too many excuses for everything. There's always a reason for me not to do something. Tonight I'm going to this creative non-fiction workshop (unless I make some excuse for why I can't go). No, I'm going. I need some kind of outlet. I wanted to take an improv class, and maybe I will...unfortunately, they cost money, and that is probably the only legitimate excuse I have for not doing it. The workshop tonight is free so I like it already. Last night, I turned off the tv and opted to read instead after talking to my friend Skyler. When she mentioned that she was reading "Fast Food Nation", it was like a light bulb came on-"Hey, I can read a book too!" So I did. And I liked it. It made me feel slightly more productive, even if I was still just laying on my couch.
Reagan

RIP Cain and Abel's

I just found out today that my favorite college hangout (think the Peach Pit, but with less color and no Brandon Walsh) has been destroyed due to a fire. To this fire, I say this: "You son of a bitch". I feel like a part of me has died. Ashley suggested having a Cains Memorial Service- we would try to find a place that has dollar beer or at least one that's all wooden. I know after the death of a loved one, it helps to remember the good times. So here are a few Cain and Abel's memories I would like to share with everyone (they are vague mainly b/c they are fuzzy):
1. All the times spent playing pool, esp. those special moments when it would be free for some reason.
2. The many, many, many free drinks donated to us by Mike and Jason (I'll never forget you guys...never forget you)...and Ellis the owner, who though he tried to stop the free drink ring... well, that pissed me off, so I can only say he didn't completely suck.
3. The moment when Cain's tried to enter the big leagues by expanding the outside area and adding a classy sign (yet still keeping the rope lighting around the fence)
4. $1 beer, Tuesday nights- need I say more?
5. All the drunken sex/making out that resulted from a long night at Cain's. In my head, I toast you.
And those are just a few memories. I probably made an ass of myself at Cain's more than at any other place ever. And for this, I cry on the inside for this monumental loss.
Reagan

Mondays make me want to curl in a ball and cry

I woke up late for work...I'm not talking 15 mins late, I woke up 15 mins AFTER the time I was supposed to have left for work. I could understand if I had been up late the night before, but I had done absolutely nothing and gone to bed at 11. I guess I just needed those 10 1/2 hours of sleep. And at 2:51 in the afternoon, I have yet to fully wake up. I'm v. excited b/c my best friend in the world is coming to visit on labor day weekend. I must come up with fun stuff to do. I must create the illusion that I'm living an exciting life. This weekend, I continued my pattern of staying out/up late into the night and sleeping late into the day. It leaves me feeling unfulfilled. I want to be productive. I want to have interesting stories to tell when asked the question "what did you do this weekend?" I'm tired of answering with "not much." How can I expand on something that was uneventful? I should start making things up, that's always entertaining. When I was little, I used to make up stories while I talked to my imaginary friends. I think one's name was Gwendolyn. That seems to ring a bell. I would go out into our backyard and walk back and forth on this log while talking out loud to myself. It sounds so sad. I think I quit after I made "real" friends. Sorry Gwendolyn, I never meant to hurt you. I've started actually going to new places and when I think about it, I can't remember any places I used to go. I always just hang out at various apts on the weekends, which I prefer to crowded clubs with $10 drinks. My ideal is a place where the music is good, but not too loud, with somewhere I can sit, that's not too crowded, and with cheap drinks (but of course, this last request is hard to come by). So that's what I'm looking for. Always. I saw Anchorman: Legend of Ron Burgundy yesterday and laughed my ass off. I'd recommend it to anyone who likes things that are funny. So there you go, my sad version of a movie review. Work has been slightly busy today, which pissed me off. I wasn't ready for that. I'm about to give some speedy updates: diet not working, will not continue seeing boy from make-out session, car still sucks. This is Reagan, signing off.

Baby you can drive my car

I'm not feeling so great today. I feel like I'm going to vomit. I'm sure that is something everyone wanted to know. Maybe it was the coffee...I knew I shouldn't have had two cups. Wow, I really feel weird. My head is spinning. It feels like a hangover, yet I didn't drink last night. And it's not fair to have the hangover feeling without the fun that usually precedes it. I have to take my car to the shop this weekend. I'm such a f'in idiot when it comes to cars- all I can tell the mechanics is "the engine sounds weird". When I tell my Dad, he always asks "what's it doing?". Fuck if I know, it sounds like it's being tortured. I don't even know what pieces are under the hood- engine, oil thing, air filter...what else, I don't know. Then my Dad and I get in a fight about the car- he says "it's all you've got", I say "I know this, the situation just sucks", he replies "why are you yelling at me?", and I answer "I'm just frustrated, can't I complain about it?" This happens at least once a month, same conversation, same situation. It will never be resolved until years from now, many years, when I can afford to buy a new car. I dream of that day. Not having the fear that the car is going to die at any moment. If I'm driving home late at night, I think "hope it doesn't die now". If I'm heading home from work through the narrow moutain roads, I think "hope it doesn't die now". You get what I'm saying. I can't stop talking about the same things over and over, I need something new to talk about. Unfortunately for anyone who's bored enough to read this, it's all I've got.
Reagan

Shuffle up and deal

So I had plans last night to hang out with guy from public make-out session 2004...until he had to cancel b/c he was recording. After my previous freak out post, this made me breathe a sigh of relief. Then...around 11 last night he calls to see what I'm doing...truth is, I wasn't doing anything, I was wide awake, and bored off my ass. However, I made up some lame excuse to why I couldn't hang out. 20 minutes or so later, I call him with the old "what are you doing" when in fact, I know exactly what he's doing. I mean, I had just talked to him. Ridiculous. Nevertheless...I pulled out the old "I was thinking about coming over" (slut) when, to my utter surprise, he rejected my proposal. He said he was "tired" and suggested we just hang out this weekend. I have no idea what other people would have made of this situation, but I being the sick bastard I am, became turned on by his unavailability. After watching Celebrity Poker all night, all I could think was "nice play". I tried to bluff with my lame excuse for why I couldn't hang out, but in the end, I folded. And now, I can't wait to see how the next hand plays out. Game on.
Reagan

You get what you ask for

Emily of good advice said: "these are our "me" years...there's nothing wrong with wanting to be selfish with our time...it's not like we have kids to worry about or something"
While Mike had something more poignant to say: "yeah, you need to chill...maybe you should smoke more pot"
Thanks guys. I rarely actually take advice (even though I ask for it all the time...I guess it's just an excuse to talk about myself), but I'll keep it in mind.
Reagan

Retraction: My apologies to Mr. Real Worlder, I found out he's in Grad school...way to do something with your life. I'm a d*ck for making fun of you.

This is me not caring

So new casual Reagan isn't working out so well. I can't stop thinking about this new guy and if I can actually date him and what's going to happen and what I should do about it and blah blah blah. This is typical, many can attest to this, that I run at the first sign of someone being interested in me. You'd think I just like the game, but I don't, I hate the game, I want things to be simple- I like you, you like me, bam, we're dating. I literally feel like I'm having a panic attack at the thought of having to share my time with someone else other than my friends. I don't know who I'm looking to fill this other 1/3 of my life (1/3 being friends, the other 1/3 being me time- work may take up a fraction of my life, but I won't give it credit). I came to the realization that I'm an asshole. I am. I'm an amazing friend, and I'm bragging, but I honestly would take a bullet for my friends. But I'm an asshole when it comes to guys because I will ditch you the second it gets too complicated for me. And this is before anything even happens. I'm talking about when I just can't take the thinking about whether or not you warrant a fraction of my time anymore. Life's too short to worry about such bullsh*t, and this is what I tell myself when I stop returning your calls (or emails, as has happened before). Yet the people I really try to go after, the ones I really want to see and talk to and spend time with...is it a coincidence they don't like me back? Or am I just a masochist who likes this mental torture? I'm f*cked up..I know this, you know this...but am I really different from everyone else out there? I know of others like me, we need some kind of support group...or mood stabalizer. I don't know, maybe I just need to drink more to loosen me up. I'm like an old woman set in her ways. If something has the potential to change my life in anyway, I freak the f*ck out. Maybe I need therapy. Maybe I just need to chill out. Oy, this is all too much for one mind to comprehend.
Reagan

Me and my cancer sticks

Last night I ran into one of my favorite people...the Camel complimentary cigarette man. Brief interruption.... Okay, now, where was I. When I was in Austin, I was so close with our Camel guy, we were the best of friends, I think his name was Ryan or something like that (okay, so not close enough). I would see him across the room with his bag o' cigarettes and his ID scanner. I'd motion him over, the crowd would part, he'd move over to me like he was floating on air and deliver to me two packs of free (or complimentary as the marketing guys like to call them) cigarettes. I know, I know, smoking is bad, it's wrong, it's so wrong. But I can't help myself...like many others I'm addicted. And although I'm a quitter with most things I do in life, for some reason this isn't one of them. Why is it so easy to give up the things we should do and so hard to stop the things we shouldn't? Interesting query, Reagan. You're so deep, your intellectual capacity astounds us all. I'm so poor right now...it really is putting a damper on my social life. I spent the last $12 in my checking account on two rum and cokes last night and they acted more as a sedative than a stimulant. Maybe I should sell some of my things, though I have nothing of value. Who needs money anyway...it disappears so quickly and I never have anything to show for it. Ugh, I'm starting to annoy myself. This is bad.
Reagan

The "real" world

my friend had a brief experience with an ex-real world cast member (all names will be kept confidential- i'm no kiss and tell, esp when it's not my kissing i'm telling). i told her not to go near reality whores...they're always out to hold on to their 15 mins of fame. so she tells me he's leaving and jokingly i respond with "where's he going, real world/road rules challenge?" at this point, i'm finding myself quite clever as i'm snickering at my desk. turns out, that's exactly where he's going. my whole point of what is actually a pointless posting is THIS...it's over real worlders/road rulers...you can't make money off your brief stint on MTV forever...get a real job! or don't. real jobs actually suck.
reagan

What's your thing?

I'm feeling kind of sexy after this weekend. All it takes is two boys telling me I'm hot and I'm convinced. This feeling won't last long, so I'm taking it all in while I can. I feel myself strutting down the hallway at work, like a shorter/squattier version of a supermodel. I'm not squatty, I don't want to put that out there in the universe. This is my high right now, and I'm going to indulge in it. So now I just want to go out and meet more people who will fall in love with me. Or not..I'm getting ahead of myself. So I've realized I always have to have a "thing". Last week my thing was dieting (which I'm still doing...5 lbs gone- and I realized the sad fact that eventually I need to start working out but am not sure that will ever happen). This week my "thing" is not thinking so much. Meaning not overanalyzing everything and planning ahead and worrying myself into a state of panic. I can still be a pseudo-intellectual, that type of thinking is okay. "Things" I've done in the past were, for example, the "furthering my career" thing. That didn't last long, I soon was back to being an oblivious assistant. There was the "watch less TV" thing. That lasted about 2 weeks. You get what I'm saying. I'm a quitter. And soon I'll probably give up on this good self-esteem thing. But for now, I will continue to strut down the hallway.
Reagan

Life is good

I'm at this point where everything seems to be working out for me. I've got great friends, I've been meeting some cool new people, I have someone to make out with...and now I'm just waiting for it all to come crashing down. Not really. I go through phases...it's the manic in me. I'm up, I'm down, I'm up, I'm down. I'm either whining about how everything sucks, or bragging about how everything is great. I think you get the picture. I've been talking too much about myself (and who wants to read that, really)...I need some celebrity gossip to discuss. I'm kind of dry in that area at the moment- I haven't been keeping up. If anyone out there hasn't seen VH1's "Best Week Ever" I suggest you check it out. Funny as hell. I have a crush on one of the Modern Humorist...the left one. I can't keep up with names. I also love, love, love Micheal Ian Black- his deadpan humor gets me every time. He's the reason I watch the VH1 countdowns (I love the 80's...anyone? anyone?) and the best celebrity poker contestant. I think we would have fun together...he would be funny and I would laugh. When he shouted "You go to hell, David Copperfield" after his poker loss, I couldn't stop laughing. In fact, I just laughed again thinking about it. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then please disregard. Now that I think about it, just disregard this entire post.
Reagan

I made out in public

This day has been the worst. My computer is f'ing up so my boss has been trying to fix it all day, leaving me to stand around uncomforably with nothing to do. Well, lots to do, just nowhere to do it. When I tried to use another computer, all the windows started closing in rapid succession before I even touched the mouse...I think it's possessed. So then I decided to just stare at the wall for a while. I hate people today. I feel like I'm going to lose it at any moment. But I won't. Because I need my job. My car is making weird noises again, so I've begun fantasizing about beating the sh*t out of it with a sledge hammer. At my friend's party on Saturday, love was in the air, as I found myself drunk and making out in the grass while other partygoers got their fill of my live version of soft porn. Very soft porn. I love my friends... several times throughout the night I heard cheers of "Reagan" and at those moments, I felt like I could do anything. Now I just want more of that high. But alas, I'm at work and couldn't feel any lower. So ready to leave, so so ready to leave. I wish I was drunk right now.
Reagan

Wet Hot 4th of July

I am my own boss right now. Seriously. My boss left and said "I doubt you'll stay until closing." In my head, this gives me the liberty to get the hell out of here whenever I damn well please. If that was true, I wouldn't be typing this now b/c I'd be at home napping. So I'm going to the beach for the 4th. I need some sun, I'm starting to get that shut-in look. I need a tan...bad. So that's my plan for Sunday. I have a tendency to make plans for every moment of the weekend, then I only end up doing half of them. I'm not a machine, I can't go 24/7. More like 8/3. I'm like an old lady trapped in the body of a 24 year old. Damn kids! That's what old ladies say as they shake their brooms at the neiborhood trouble makers. Yeah....right...so being my own boss is nice. I just picked up my cell phone and randomly called someone. Just because I could. I'm such a freakin' rebel. After acting as an airport chauffeur for the past two days (after taking infamous houseguest, I took my roommate today at 5 in the f'in am) I'm a little on the sleepy side. Last night I fell asleep on the couch at 945. I don't want to repeat that tonight- I'm only working a half day tomorrow, what do I need all that rest for? Nothing, that's what.
Reagan
p.s. For those following my diet progress...I turned down a cupcake today. It looked so good, with rich creamy icing and chocolaty brown goodness...what was I thinking???!!!

Girl, you make me laugh

Emily just cracked me up...I told her that I saw Joe Pantiliano (sp?) the other day and after I reminded her of who he is, she said "oh, yeah...he wears that queer hat"
I love you Ems!

I am trying to break your heart

my friend is writing a script and asked me this question: what's the most tender thing that you could see a guy could doing, which would make your heart break and totally blow you away. i have nothing. i don't even have anything to pull from my "fantasy" bank, much less real life experience. i think i'm too much of a skeptic to be blown away. when i think of things, it's always something that's been done before: someone holding a boom box over their head outside my window while playing peter gabriel; someone telling me that i complete them (to which i would reply "you had me at hello"); someone painting a beautiful picture of me while we have great conversation as a party goes on downstairs; someone coming to my house and saying "i was nowhere near your neighborhood"...cameron crowe is a romantic god. i'm at a loss to come up with original material that would "make my heart break". as in a previous post, i think it would definitely be someone telling me they love me, flaws and all. never heard this before. i don't know why i'm obsessed with this idea. when i think about it, i wonder how i would respond...knowing me, i'd make a joke. sarah said that at this point when a guy says "hi" it's the most romantic thing. sometimes all it takes for me is someone lighting my cigarette. or opening a door (even though i hate that i like something so old fashioned...it gets really awkward though when i try to open the door for the guy). or remember my f*cking name. have i lowered my standards? i'm still really picky when it comes to who i date, but yet not so much when it comes to who i like. does this make sense? i decided i wasn't going to care anymore b/c i don't want to be one of those girls who complains all the time about not having a boyfriend. you're probably thinking that i am...but this is just something that is on my mind..right now...and at other times...but not all the time. for me to want to date someone, actually spend time with them on a regular basis, they have to be as interesting as my friends. if they're not, why would i want to waste my time? maybe i'm too obsessed with my friends. why do i ask so many questions? i'm like a child. as of now i don't give a f*ck (except i obviously do)...i'm just going to do what i want and not think about rules or when to call (more likely email...it is my lifeline) or what to say or what they think or what they think i think...it's all such bullsh*t. and it's neverending. ashley asked if this kind of crap goes away as we get older, and sadly, i don't think it does.
reagan aka debbie downer