Tori Spelling thinks her life is playing out like When Harry Met Sally. She’s totally stealing lines from the movie and rewording them to be less eloquent and entertaining. She commented on her relationship with whatever guy she’s engage to this week and said:
"I believe that when you find the right person, you just want to start your lives together," she tells "Entertainment Tonight" of McDermott, who has optimistically tattooed several tremendous tributes to his future wife on his arm. "We both feel that way. We don't look at it as making a hasty move and jumping into something. It's just we searched our whole lives for each other, we finally found each other, and we want that life to start as quickly as possible."
Which bears a striking resemblance to a key scene near the end of the movie, when Harry busts in to the New Years Eve party and tells Sally he loves her:
“I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
I just thought you should know.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Friday, March 24, 2006
Forwards Can Be Funny
Usually, I don't care for e-mail forwards. Chances are, I've already seen it fifteen times and it wasn't that funny to begin with. But, I got this one today and it is funny. Sad, too but also funny. A friend of mine added his own comments on the side, which I also appreciate. I took out some of his comments when I disagreed, and edited where I see fit. I'm now claiming them as my own.
TWENTY-FIVE SIGNS THAT YOU HAVE GROWN UP.........
1. Your houseplants are alive, and you can't smoke any of them. Not True.
2. Having sex in a twin bed is out of the question. Absolutely.
3. You keep more food than beer in the fridge. Also not true. Please ignore the fact that the beer is from 4 months ago and will never be consumed.
4. 6:00 AM is when you get up, not when you go to bed. Bummer.
5. You hear your favorite song in an elevator. Never going to happen.
6. You watch the Weather Channel. Nope. Weather.com
7. Your friends marry and divorce instead of "hook up" and "break up." Sad, but sorta true.
8. You go from 130 days of vacation time to 14. Again, Bummer.
9. Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as "dressed up." Never did in my book.
10. You're the one calling the police because those %&@# kids next door
won't turn down the stereo. Amazing how quickly the tables turn and this is true.
11. Older relatives feel comfortable telling sex jokes around you. Does it matter if I'm not comfortable with that?
12. You don't know what time Taco Bell closes anymore. I miss Taco Bell.
13. Your car insurance goes down and your car payments go up. True.
14. You feed your dog Science Diet instead of McDonald's leftovers.
15. Falling asleep on the couch makes your back hurt.
16. You take naps sometime between noon and 6 PM.
17. Dinner and a movie is the whole date instead of the beginning of one. Hahahah, that's funny. Sad, but funny.
18. Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset, rather
than settle, your stomach. Gross at any age. The people are crazy.
19. If you're a gal, you go to the drug store for ibuprofen and antacid,
not condoms and pregnancy tests.
20. A $4.00 bottle of wine is no longer "pretty good stuff." Says WHO? I love the three-buck Chuck (though it used to be two bucks).
21. You actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time. I eat breakfast all the time.
22. "I just can't drink the way I used to" replaces "I'm never going to
drink that much again."
23. 90% of the time you spend in front of a computer is for real work. HAHAHAHAH. Not so much.
24. You drink at home to save money before going to a bar. I totally do this. It just makes more sense.
25. You read this entire list looking desperately for one sign that doesn't apply to you and can't find one to save your sorry old butt. Then you forward it to a bunch of old pals & friends 'cause you know they'll enjoy it & do the same. (Or post it on your blog, which no one will read, except for maybe the two people who know I have a blog.)
BONUS: 26. When you find out your friend is pregnant you congratulate them instead of asking "Oh Shit!!! Whose is it?" Nope, still think its an accident.
TWENTY-FIVE SIGNS THAT YOU HAVE GROWN UP.........
1. Your houseplants are alive, and you can't smoke any of them. Not True.
2. Having sex in a twin bed is out of the question. Absolutely.
3. You keep more food than beer in the fridge. Also not true. Please ignore the fact that the beer is from 4 months ago and will never be consumed.
4. 6:00 AM is when you get up, not when you go to bed. Bummer.
5. You hear your favorite song in an elevator. Never going to happen.
6. You watch the Weather Channel. Nope. Weather.com
7. Your friends marry and divorce instead of "hook up" and "break up." Sad, but sorta true.
8. You go from 130 days of vacation time to 14. Again, Bummer.
9. Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as "dressed up." Never did in my book.
10. You're the one calling the police because those %&@# kids next door
won't turn down the stereo. Amazing how quickly the tables turn and this is true.
11. Older relatives feel comfortable telling sex jokes around you. Does it matter if I'm not comfortable with that?
12. You don't know what time Taco Bell closes anymore. I miss Taco Bell.
13. Your car insurance goes down and your car payments go up. True.
14. You feed your dog Science Diet instead of McDonald's leftovers.
15. Falling asleep on the couch makes your back hurt.
16. You take naps sometime between noon and 6 PM.
17. Dinner and a movie is the whole date instead of the beginning of one. Hahahah, that's funny. Sad, but funny.
18. Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset, rather
than settle, your stomach. Gross at any age. The people are crazy.
19. If you're a gal, you go to the drug store for ibuprofen and antacid,
not condoms and pregnancy tests.
20. A $4.00 bottle of wine is no longer "pretty good stuff." Says WHO? I love the three-buck Chuck (though it used to be two bucks).
21. You actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time. I eat breakfast all the time.
22. "I just can't drink the way I used to" replaces "I'm never going to
drink that much again."
23. 90% of the time you spend in front of a computer is for real work. HAHAHAHAH. Not so much.
24. You drink at home to save money before going to a bar. I totally do this. It just makes more sense.
25. You read this entire list looking desperately for one sign that doesn't apply to you and can't find one to save your sorry old butt. Then you forward it to a bunch of old pals & friends 'cause you know they'll enjoy it & do the same. (Or post it on your blog, which no one will read, except for maybe the two people who know I have a blog.)
BONUS: 26. When you find out your friend is pregnant you congratulate them instead of asking "Oh Shit!!! Whose is it?" Nope, still think its an accident.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Dreams
I used to dream a lot about being lost or left behind. I had a distinct, cartoonish dream at a very young age – maybe 6 or 7 – where I came from somewhere and my house was gone and my mom was gone. It was very disturbing. Like when you go shopping with your mom, and she’s taking forever looking at stuff, so you start wandering around and going inside the racks and the next thing you know, your mom has wandered off and you can’t find her.
I had another very vivid dream a couple years later where my mom and her friend were playing trivial pursuit. Only the winner got to keep me. It was truly terrifying because, although my mom’s friend was very nice, I did not want to live with her.
Really, all of this is Freud’s fault. If I wasn’t taking a literary theory class right now, where we had to read a selection from his Interpretation of Dreams, I wouldn’t be thinking about dreams. It’s funny what you remember though. After all these years, those dreams are still very vivid in my mind. Out of all the crazy things that have happened in my head (and there’s some interesting stuff, I’m sure), this is what I remember best.
I had another very vivid dream a couple years later where my mom and her friend were playing trivial pursuit. Only the winner got to keep me. It was truly terrifying because, although my mom’s friend was very nice, I did not want to live with her.
Really, all of this is Freud’s fault. If I wasn’t taking a literary theory class right now, where we had to read a selection from his Interpretation of Dreams, I wouldn’t be thinking about dreams. It’s funny what you remember though. After all these years, those dreams are still very vivid in my mind. Out of all the crazy things that have happened in my head (and there’s some interesting stuff, I’m sure), this is what I remember best.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
When I Grow Up
I used to work in publishing. I worked for a literary agency in Chicago, acting as the general office manager (sort of – I kept track of interns and ordered supplies), and I was an “associate agent” and handled a lot of the foreign rights crap. My original boss was a wonderful, intelligent and fantastic lady who, unfortunately, passed away about a year and a half after I started. Sadly, she made what I think is one of the few poor decisions in her career shortly before, firing the existing VP and hiring another person who had worked for her before. The new person was a good agent but had/has no head for business. D would freak out over little things, slack off when something didn’t appeal and generally was insecure about those of us who were there first might think we were smarter or better than we really were. This forced D to do crazy things in order to let us know that we weren’t so smart. And the pay was shitty. I mean, nowhere in publishing is the pay good for an entry-level position, but the pay was really, really bad. When I was working for my first boss, this was ok. It was paying my dues and I was learning a lot. It was a field in which I felt I could make a very satisfactory career. With D at the helm, it was soul-crushing. So, I left. I got an internship through my uncle as a Marketing Assistant, which turned into a permanent job. I applied and was accepted to grad school to get my masters in English Lit. I was thinking that maybe teaching really was my passion. However, I can’t seem to escape my former profession – and I don’t want to. I liked publishing. I loved helping people take their writing to another level (not that I got to do that often, but… the possibility was there). I am reminded of this whenever the publishing process comes up in class or one of my writer friends asks me for help.
Today, I read through a short story of a friend of mine. It was a very rough draft, and was unfinished. My friend is a great writer. It was so fun for me to read where she started and talk to her about where she wants the character to go and how to get her there. I love the idea of taking a great piece of work and helping it find its home in the world. So, I was thinking that, if my friend manages to write a novel – which she is totally capable of doing (really, you are) – that maybe I could rep it. Maybe, if lighting strikes and she becomes a New York Times Bestseller, I could really have my own agency.
Alas, I don’t know if this is possible. I’ve already been out of that industry for almost two years and I didn’t have that many contacts to begin with. Everyone who is an agent starts out somewhere else in publishing. I like fiction. I can appreciate non-fiction and of course, as an agent, I would rep it, but if I were to be an editor, I would want to be a fiction editor. Unfortunately for me, there is very little fiction in Chicago. There’s business publishing, some magazines, educational publishing and lots of other stuff I’m not really interested in, but no fiction. The only fiction is way, way, way far out in the ‘burbs – far enough out that, when I interviewed, they basically said they don’t hire people who live in the city because the commute kills them. So, what am I supposed to do?
In a perfect world, these details wouldn’t matter. I would finish school, teach at a community college and slowly build the best clientele ever, working from home. Once I got some steady authors, who I could depend on, I could quit teaching and run my own agency full-time. I’m just afraid that this is not really an option. AND to make matters worse, my old agency is really, honestly, the only successful one in the entire city and surrounding suburbs. Outside of LA and NYC, there are not a whole lot of successful literary agents. It’s tough to get the ear of NYC editors (and they’re ALL in NY) if you can’t take them out to lunch on a regular basis.
So, I’m left wondering: what will happen to me when I grow up? I think I would be a good teacher, and I think I would find it satisfying, but I know that what I really want to do is be in publishing. That thought, however, is always followed up with – but not as much as I want to live in Chicago. I mean, how could I leave all the pizza? It’s really tough. NYC is not an option. I just don’t want to. And California? Um…. No. I’d rather… I don’t know but California is just not an option for me. I’ve already found my home. I like it here. I guess I just have to hope that the rest will work itself out.
Today, I read through a short story of a friend of mine. It was a very rough draft, and was unfinished. My friend is a great writer. It was so fun for me to read where she started and talk to her about where she wants the character to go and how to get her there. I love the idea of taking a great piece of work and helping it find its home in the world. So, I was thinking that, if my friend manages to write a novel – which she is totally capable of doing (really, you are) – that maybe I could rep it. Maybe, if lighting strikes and she becomes a New York Times Bestseller, I could really have my own agency.
Alas, I don’t know if this is possible. I’ve already been out of that industry for almost two years and I didn’t have that many contacts to begin with. Everyone who is an agent starts out somewhere else in publishing. I like fiction. I can appreciate non-fiction and of course, as an agent, I would rep it, but if I were to be an editor, I would want to be a fiction editor. Unfortunately for me, there is very little fiction in Chicago. There’s business publishing, some magazines, educational publishing and lots of other stuff I’m not really interested in, but no fiction. The only fiction is way, way, way far out in the ‘burbs – far enough out that, when I interviewed, they basically said they don’t hire people who live in the city because the commute kills them. So, what am I supposed to do?
In a perfect world, these details wouldn’t matter. I would finish school, teach at a community college and slowly build the best clientele ever, working from home. Once I got some steady authors, who I could depend on, I could quit teaching and run my own agency full-time. I’m just afraid that this is not really an option. AND to make matters worse, my old agency is really, honestly, the only successful one in the entire city and surrounding suburbs. Outside of LA and NYC, there are not a whole lot of successful literary agents. It’s tough to get the ear of NYC editors (and they’re ALL in NY) if you can’t take them out to lunch on a regular basis.
So, I’m left wondering: what will happen to me when I grow up? I think I would be a good teacher, and I think I would find it satisfying, but I know that what I really want to do is be in publishing. That thought, however, is always followed up with – but not as much as I want to live in Chicago. I mean, how could I leave all the pizza? It’s really tough. NYC is not an option. I just don’t want to. And California? Um…. No. I’d rather… I don’t know but California is just not an option for me. I’ve already found my home. I like it here. I guess I just have to hope that the rest will work itself out.
Friday, February 17, 2006
When You Have the Right of Way, Just Take it
Living in the city, there is a lot of pedestrian/car interaction. Most people know how to handle this - there are crosswalks which tell us when it is safe to enter the street and cars (generally) respect that. What I can't stand is when suburbanites (or maybe just assholes) decide to be extra nice and let you cross.
I live in the city and, like most city-dwellers, I frequently cross the street at random, nowhere near the crosswalk. I understand that this is risky business. What I can't stand is when people - in their big, fast cars who have the right of way - decide they are going to be magnanimous and let you cross. Think of it. I'm waiting to cross the street, the side I'm on is clear, so I meander towards the middle, ready to cross as soon as the big guy in the suburban finishes turning. He is coming off the HIGHWAY where there are LOTS OF OTHER CARS ABOUT TO DO THE SAME DAMN THING. If he had just made his turn, I would have plenty of time to cross before the next wave of cars, but no, he waves me on. Now, he could have been out of my way in two seconds. Me, being on two feet and not four wheels, I take a little longer and now there are cars behind him and honking. It's really ridiculous. You have the right of way. Take it. Gah.
I live in the city and, like most city-dwellers, I frequently cross the street at random, nowhere near the crosswalk. I understand that this is risky business. What I can't stand is when people - in their big, fast cars who have the right of way - decide they are going to be magnanimous and let you cross. Think of it. I'm waiting to cross the street, the side I'm on is clear, so I meander towards the middle, ready to cross as soon as the big guy in the suburban finishes turning. He is coming off the HIGHWAY where there are LOTS OF OTHER CARS ABOUT TO DO THE SAME DAMN THING. If he had just made his turn, I would have plenty of time to cross before the next wave of cars, but no, he waves me on. Now, he could have been out of my way in two seconds. Me, being on two feet and not four wheels, I take a little longer and now there are cars behind him and honking. It's really ridiculous. You have the right of way. Take it. Gah.
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