I've been trying to write more, but nothing will come out. Literary constipation. But I thought I'd give random updates about shit of no importance to anyone, including myself because...well, I have a website, so why the fuck not, right?

I've been apartment hunting, which as I've explained, is supposed to be really fun. The sad thing I realized however, is that apartment hunting is fine when you have money to spend on whatever apartment you like the best. When you just can't afford what you want, then apartment hunting is actually very, very sad. Super sad. Sucks. I couldn't even figure out my priorities. I wasn't even sure what town I'd want to live in. I was wandering aimlessly looking for For Rent signs. Craigslist hasn't been that much help, and for some reaosn, I refuse to sign up for Westsiderentals.com. I just don't want to do it. But, good new is, I found the street where I want to live. Wanted to live there since the FIRST time I've ever driven down it. I was totally in love. So, I decided to go up and down it looking for open apartments. Then I found it. Right there in the middle of the most beautiful part of the most beautiful street in LA is an enormous apartment that has everything I need. It's $25 over what I said my ceiling was for apartments, but I think it makes up for it. Naturally, five million people want the place, so I've had to begin the battle of fighting to prove I would be the perfect tenant. Paid all my bills today just to ensure that I still have perfect credit history. I know I like a place when I walk in and immediately start picturing where all my furniture will go. If that place looked THAT cozy with it completely empty, it will be a fucking paradise once my plants, rugs, and beautiful furniture are in there. It's like that Friends episode when Ross wants to live in that apartment across the street from everyone - the ugly naked guy's apartment. I'm sorry, but does Ross really make enough for a two bedroom in the middle of Manhatten? I know none of them could afford to live there, so I guess there's no point in discussing it. Anyway, I'm starting to think I should send the manager a basket of mini-muffins.

My computer is sick, which is very sad. 13 viruses. Oly's been helping me out, trying to cure it, but it's not totally clean. It's a very upsetting thing to have a sick computer. I mean, this is my window to the outside work past Los Angeles. I can't come home and NOT be able to receive emails or instant message. See, that's just not allowed.

Anyway, so money is a little tight these days. Paolo helped create a budget with me for my earnings and expenses. I have $156 a week to spend on food and fun. That's it. That actually sounds like a lot more than I actually have though. So, no more buying food at work. I buy breakfast and lunch everyday, but that's not happening anymore. Not until I get a raise, which is like a year or so from now. Ugh. I'm going to have to be one of those people that is extremely careful with every single cent. I guess that's okay because I'll probably lose weight. Won't be eating more than I need to survive because I can't afford it. This is good too because I've been getting a little dumpy. Two great things about gaining weight - big boobs and a rounder ass. Sure, my arms and my face look like they're going to float off my body like they're packed with helium, but I'm curvy.

I hate all music, by the way. Absolutely nothing out there inspires me. In fact, it all exhausts me, makes me feel tired and irritable. It's all the fucking same. It all sounds like noise. So, I've decided I'm just going to go back to listening to musicals. I spent years listening to nothing but, and I think I need to revert back that. Huge swells of sound and emotion, powerful chords, soaring notes, voices pure and strong without effects or distortions. Les Miserables, Into the Woods, A Chorus Line, Phantom of the Opera, Beauty and the Beast, Miss Saigon, Rent, and the list goes on. Even like Little Shop of Horrors (movie version), Annie (movie version), Chess. I can't listen to crap anymore. I can't.

Here's something else I've been thinking a lot about. It’s amazing how much can happen in one year. You can be a different person in a whole different life. Not look anything like you did. Talk to all new people. Know all new things. Life can seem almost unrecognizable from one year to the next. And in a way, that’s kind of exciting. If my years were identical so that I can’t even tell one from the next, then that would just be miserable. I’ve been checking old emails from old addresses I have. A year ago today, I was working on a temp job at a life insurance agency in Quincy, MA. My weekends (if sunny) were spent working at an outdoor club in Quincy as a shot girl. I was getting ready to go to Hawaii for what turned out to be a bit of scam reality-appearance situation. I was selling all my shit from my clothes to my car, and goddamn was selling that car a source of stress. I was counting my cash every other minute, making little budget plans for decorating my new apartment. I was preparing for the move to LA. My sister was coming home from her honeymoon. I had short hair. I thought I knew what was ahead of me. I was wrapping my life up in the wonderful city of Boston to prepare for a year I just did not see coming, packed tight with details that I couldn’t even predict. Door-to-door sales (in Spanish, no less, and I don’t speak Spanish), new friends, new hairstyles, And now, I’m coming up on my one year anniversary as a West Coast resident. I can’t believe it. No wonder I look around me and not know how the hell I got here. I don’t even have one thing right now that connects me to the life I used to have. Every person and thing I see or talk to (in person, not phone, email, or IM) is completely unrelated to my past. New friends, new restaurants, freakishly sunny weather, year-round tan.

I was talking to my friend Laura recently about next year. We talked about where we were last year and were amazed by the changes. I am excited to see what will happen in a year, and I almost wish I could just skip ahead and get there rather than going through the process. Two years ago right now I was in Jamaica right smack in the middle of the Challenge. I believe that was when things were the worst. A year before that we were one month into the Back to New York season airing for the first time. (Ugh, I almost wish I could forget 2001 happened at all). A year before that I was living in Boston working a temp job as a secretary in the nuclear medicine division at a hospital. Year before that I had spent almost an entire summer staying with my friends in New York city. I had no job. I turned my social life into my job, and I didn’t even have that many friends. I remember it being a really good summer, that year after sophomore year. I’m going to suggest that you do this – think of where you were every year back at exactly this time as far back you can remember. It’s wild.

I should reread this and look for errors before posting, but I'm not going to right now. Sorry, I'll fix whatever later. Oh, also - topic for a later date: Six Feet Under is the best show ever made. WHY I refused to watch it all these years when I heard how good it was is beyond me. If you don't like this show, then there is something wrong with you. It is amazing - and that is not up for subjectivity. Sorry.