There are no right angles in my life

Slow day at the office. It's been a while since I've said that.

So I really like writing about nothing in particular. Just anything that pops in my head. Weird thing is, I can really only do that here. If I try to write at home, I get nervous. Which is strange, b/c I'm the only person reading it. But when I'm here writing for tens of people, it kind of just flows out of me, without much thought (apparantly....does anyone remember the big underwear story of 2004?) I think I put too much pressure on myself. Every so often I'll see a movie or read a book or even an article and be so impressed it inspires me to want to write something so great. However, as soon as I sit down to try, nothing comes out. If anything does, it's pure sh*t. Or sometimes I'll write something and think "This is the greatest thing ever written!" then I'll read it a few more times and suddenly I want to slit my wrists (figuartively speaking) b/c it's so awful. Am I a perfectionist who's never reached perfection and probably doesn't have the potential to? Okay, I take that back. I'll cut down on the negativity. I know what it is- I compare myself to other people way too much. That's it. Yes, mystery solved.
R.

In a New York Minute... ooh ooh ooh...everything can change

I'm too lazy to post links anymore, but Ashley sent me an article this morning announcing that the Olsen twins haven taken full control of Dualstar (see Ashley's blog to the right for entire article). Yes, I remember when I was 18 and I could barely hold down a 10 hour a week job, so I must say ladies that's very ambitious of you. I'm picturing a mix of "Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead" w/ "Billy Madison"....my initial image involved their butler waking them up every morning to go to the office (honestly, first thing that popped into my head). At first, it's tough- Ashley's cranky and Mary Kate never wants to eat her breakfast, even though it is the most important meal of the day. But soon, they realize the value of hard work and after turning the company around and winning the love and respect of all their employees (even the ones in Asia making their clothes)....well, I don't know why I said "after" b/c I have nothing to add at this point. But something would happen. Maybe a fashion show? A party w/ all the A list celebs, dancing and canoodling w/ the common folk from Dualstar? Whatever happens, it can't be as bad as "New York Minute". Oh...burn!
R.

Table for one, please

So I hate Valentine's Day. I don't know what's more depressing...this whole holiday that I can't take part in or the fact that I'm so pathetic as to waste my energy hating it. It's a toss up. This year I decided to...surprise!...plan an event-ish thing for the single gals. While this usually consists of drinking until we can no longer feel the pain (which I'm sure will still happen) I thought it might be a nice idea to get some girls together for a spa day. I know while I'm sitting in a hot tub or getting deep tissue massage or wrapped in seaweed, I'll be relaxed and at able to escape from my "worries" even if for an hour (just like Kelly and Brenda on that eventful trip to the spa...but hopefully it won't spur the onset of an eating disorder- you're so not fat Kelly!). However, what I fear is the buyers remorse that will come afterwards. If I get this everytime I buy a pair of earrings, what's going to happen when I lay down $100 and all I have is a memory? I need something tangible. Maybe a sticker? Or a t-shirt? "I paid $100 for a 50 minute massage and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."
R.

Have you ever...

randomly had a flashback to something that happened the previous weekend? I'm setting this up so I can say "Well I just did." And what, I'm sure you're dying to know, did I just remember? It was something I would rather forget but the image involved a drunk as hell me shoveling potato chips into my mouth as I exclaimed "I've been on a diet, I haven't had chips in so long." Who ever said I wasn't classy? (I don't think that was ever overtly expressed, but I'm sure people have had their doubts).
R.

Just a note....

I'm going to gradually ween myself off of whining. Bring out the padded white room and the wrist restraints.

I was watching "I Love the 90's Part Deux" last night when they started discussing the brief brilliance that was "Cop Rock". I had heard references of this infamous show before, but I had never actually seen any clips. Until now. I couldn't stop laughing when the judge asked the jury for their verdict and they responded by singing "He's Guilty" and suddenly turning into a gospel choir, robes and all. It was great. Sadly, I can't find it anywhere (meaning not on amazon or ebay). My search will go on...if I don't forget about it in the next five minutes.

The weekend of February 5th I'm going to a Civil War re-enactment w/ Ashley and Lisa. According to the advertisement, "the nuns will have plenty of donuts for sale." Thank God for that (literally).

I just finished reading "Running with Scissors". Loved it. Made me jealous that my life is so normal. I feel like maybe if I'd had more material, I could have been a writer. Possibly. It's my second book I've read this year (after "Vernon God Little"...also great) so that's another resolution I've actually kept (to read more, obvs). I haven't decided what I'll read next....any suggestions?
R.

The terrible 20's

Every few months or so I find myself rethinking my current job situation. I'm sorry, did I say months? I meant days. So this we all know, as I b*tch about it constantly. It's funny, it's easier to pick out the negative than it is to talk about the positive. I guess the level of joy the positive things bring me is not anywhere near comparable to the misery the negative things inflict on my life. I might as well just have my hand permanently glued to my forehead in a constant sign of despair. I mean, really....am I becoming a drama queen? (see previous title "Too tired to cry" for evidence). I think my life is so boring any little thing is the end of the world. So sad. Anyway, I was saying something about my job...oh yeah, I remember. So every now and again I find myself IM'ing or being IM'ed the eternal question: "What do you really want to do?" And I just about 5 minutes ago came to this realization: I just don't have any goals right now, so my current job is kind of a default career. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure that out (hmmm...could I become a brain surgeon?) but I feel like sometimes I live a memento like existence, constantly rediscovering new things about my life/myself/etc as if for the first time. Maybe I should tattoo that recent epiphany onto my chest, but backwards so I can read it in the mirror. Who am I kidding, I can't get a tattoo, it would hurt and it's too permanent. Back to the default.
R.

Too tired to cry

I'm in a very weird mood today, caught somewhere b/w depressed and complacent. Maybe it's the fact that I flew in late last night from Texas (after going to a wedding...something which always causes me to think about my life and the idea of spending forever w/ someone and how I can't possibly imagine what that would be like or if that's even what I want).

Or maybe it's because ever since the new year began, I've been trying to make so many changes to myself (joking that as long as I stick to one resolution I will be happy...but I've only stuck to one resolution and I'm not happy). Should I just give up and accept myself, flaws/annoying habits/personality defects and all? Or should I keep trying, hoping that someday I will walk past a crooked picture frame and not straighten it?

And work is so effing busy I can't even take 5 minutes to talk about myself on this blog. And all I want to do is go home and sleep until I wake up and feel better.

Will I ever stop complaining? I just want to be content for a day. Just to see what it's like.
R.

If you can't laugh at yourself, life is going to seem a whole lot longer than you'd like

Long time, no post. I don't feel like I have much to say these days. I'm in a funk that's lasting longer than I would like it to. But I'm bored. So here I go.

So I met this guy (a friend of an acquaintance...one step below a friend of a friend) on Saturday while at Jenny's bday party thing. And I'm usually one to doubt myself, never quite sure if somone is into my sh*t or not, but in this case, I was feeling pretty confident. Several subtle (an affectionate pinch on the arm) and not so subtle (humping my leg on the dance floor) led me to believe that this dude thought I was all right. So after a few rounds of dance talking (attempting to carry a conversation and keep a beat at the same time- virtually impossible) we sat down and continued to talk it up. After a while, I was feeling pretty bold (alcohol can do that to a person) as thoughts were spinning through my head like crazy (will he ask for my number? if he does, will he call? will he like the same names for our children that I like?) when I suddenly pop the question: "So, do you want to hang out sometime?"

Long pause.

His reply: "Sure." Not exactly a response to phone your girlfriends about, nor one to make you wanna slit your wrists.

Awkward.

After this response, we kind of just sat there. I had completely killed the conversation- taken a knife to it's neck and left it just hanging there. I felt so effing uncomfortable, I wanted to explain myself..."No, I'm really not weird" or even let him know I understand if he's not interested and I'm okay with it- I may not have read "He's just not that into you" but I get the general concept. The whole moment left me immediately incredibly depressed, as I analyzed what I did wrong and if I should care b/c I was being "bold" so to speak or if I should just have just kept my damn mouth shut or if I really misread any signs I thought were there. Whatever the case may be, I don't have a goddamn clue what I'm doing out there.
R.

And to think I wanted to be a Teacher...

When I was 13 that is. Later in life I learned what little money they make and how they really don't make a difference. What I should have set my sights on is the age old profession of... exotic dancing. Yes, that's right kids. Why be a doctor or an attorney or dare I say a housewife! when you can take your clothes off for money. As this career day speaker told one student, "For every 2 inches up there, you should get another $50,000 on your salary." Now that's inspirational.
R.

I'd rather cruise with Manut Bol

May I please have your attention-your 15 minutes are now up...would you kindly exit Access Hollywood and step onto the Legend Cruise Ship? Can they really use the word legend? If Tivo is going to freak out about the media using it as a verb, what company out there has "legend's" back? (I believe there is a trashy bar in my hometown w/ this name...perhaps I should contact them). But I digress...I almost feel sorry for these past Apprentices (Apprenti?). They barely had a chance to bask in the glory that is reality tv stardom before they began ushering in the next batch- Book Smarts vs. Street Smarts. Frankly, what it comes down to is this: I don't like the look of any of the candidates. This same thing happened w/ Survivor...after the 2nd season I was out. Farewell Apprentice, it was nice knowing you. Thanks for emailing me about the cruise, I'm flattered, but I'm going to have to pass. I've already got plans to go parasailing w/ the cast of Joe Millionaire 2.
R.

I have an arch like you wouldn't believe

Oh, sweet fetishes. I think I may have found my calling...and my only shot at modeling. Now isn't that a depressing sentence (not that I've ever had aspirations of gracing the cover of Seventeen...nope, never crossed my mind). I guess I could turn things around- stop dieting/working out, take up a lifestyle of binging w/o the purging, and attempt to become a plus size model. Sadly, even on that end I don't think I'd have a shot. Anyone for a little self deprication? Anyone?

XOXO,
Reagan

2005 hates me

I don't know why...we don't even really know each other. But ever since day one, when it made me puke for what seemed like days (and was actually only a few hours, give or take) I started to feel as if maybe it wasn't too fond of me. I don't know why, I'm a relatively affable person. Nevertheless, being the resiliant girl/woman that I am (going to be- resolution #26), I said, "It's okay...everything is okay...2005 is going to be awesome." Then I returned to LA to find that my car had flooded and smelled like dead fish. I didn't notice until I got to the gas station and found my feet wet up to (practically) my ankles. Yet still, it took me 20 mins of driving to realize this. I think I hit my head on New Years. I know I hit my leg on something b/c there's the cutest little bruise in the shape of a bunny on my shin. Okay, not a bunny, more like a circle drawn w/o the use of a cup as a guideline. Anyway....where was I? Oh, ironically before I left, I wondered aloud if my car would be safe parked at my friend's office over the break and my comment to this was: "What else can happen to my car? The worst someone could do is steal it. What...are they going to take my tires?" (quote not verbatim) No...no that's not the worst...the constant smell of fish has to be the worst. But I am glad that I still have my tires, so that I can drive my dream machine all over town. Little girls can only hope one day to have a sweet ride like mine. And then submit it to "Pimp My Ride", have it painted pink, and have 4 DVD players installed throughout". Genius.

Oh...then after proclaiming "I'm ready to go back to work" I eff up like I've never effed up before on my first day back. Like, effed up enough to consider just never showing up again. But I did...and it's okay. Maybe it was the pathetic apologizing/swearing on my unborn child's life that it will never happen again. Maybe it was the fact that I looked like a puppy who'd just taken a piss in the corner then been kicked profusely to teach me a lesson. Whatever it was...I still have a job...but pride, not so much.

And back to the car. I went around to many a car wash to find a place to suck the holy water out of my floorboards (I tried it myself, but magically the water reappeared after only minutes) but seeing as how it's been raining like it's the f*cking apocalypse, every car wash I found had those two words mocking me at the entrance: "Sorry closed". Oh...you're sorry. Sorry! I could swim laps in my back seat, at least keep the towel boy here in case of emergency. I mean, someone to run the vacuum? No? Then f*ck you!

So with all the resolutions I've made and the many times I've already stated in just a little over 3 days of 2005 "It's the new Reagan" I wonder if anything will change? I make resolutions every year...one year I even laminated them...but I'm still the same person. Should I give up? Or will the fact that I've made so many give me the odds to actually stick to one goal? Maybe I should go back to adding on "Be a better person"...it's so vague, it just might happen. I'll keep you updated.

Reagan

p.s. I thought about not blogging ever again but then I got bored and a little irate and that's when I turned to you, sweet cyberspace.