Four on the floor. Or five, really, counting Olive.

We gave away our couch and chair to Out of the Closet today. That made a lot more sense before I realized we still had another two days to live in the house. We're sitting on the floor, watching the Olympics. This is another one of those "sink pasta" moments that will be incredibly romantic years from now, I'm sure.

The house is mostly packed. But by that I mean we still have all of the kitchen and most of our clothes and an alarming part of the garage to go.

There are so many things that need to be done that the temptation to do nothing is so great. It makes you want to just go fetal.

And since I'm me, I have a show going up the week after I move. Because I'm crazy.

Holy crap. In one week, one shit-ass week, we can relive the magic again. We can learn to live again.

Escape (The Pina Colada Song): The Musical is premiering and closing monday August 23rd at the comedy central workspace. It's a one night only Rupert Holmes love fest at 8 pm. It's free but you need to get off your stoner ass and make a reservation at 323) 960-5519.

Pam Ribon and Chip Pope and et all. (Jason Allen on drums, ladies. Grrrr!) With rehearsals provided by Matt Young! Did I mention Shane Laser? I see now I've got your attention.

http://www.comedycentral.com/emails/ccstage/

We were sitting around packing last night and heard Cal wailing but it was too distant to be Cal but then we realized with sudden, cold fear that it was Cal and he wasn't in the house. We ran into the garage and found the door was open and we ran out back and found Cal all puffed up and Taylor scared out of his mind. The neighbor's dog was barking. From the best we can tell, Taylor tried to run away, sick of the idea of having to move again, and went outside for the first time in his life. Cal followed and yelled as loud as he could to get him in trouble. We heard Cal's cry for help and the cats were so happy to see us that they ran into the house as quickly as they could. Cal was so proud of himself for the rest of the night, that he made sure his buddy got home safe and sound. He sat around with this proud face, keeping Taylor always in his view.

Since they took the couch and chair, Cal has been running around the house frantically, trying to explain to us that it wasn't his fault that we've been robbed of all furniture.

# posted by pamie : 11:30 PM

when a blogger meets a blogger...

I'm at a Borders writing in my blog while looking at Wil Wheaton who just so happened to have been reading inside this store about his book that he got from his blog. He has no idea the meeting of the blogs that is taking place right at this very moment.

Wil Wheaton! You and I, we are peers. In fact, I was on a panel of judges judging YOU . Where's the thanks? Do not pass me on your way to your latte without so much as a single interested stare! Do you not understand the secret Blogger eye-shake I'm giving you every time you walk by where I'm sitting? Did you not see me signing books of my own, Wil Wheaton? I had my blog book first, sir. You may have the fame, but I have the fifth printing (and soon to be released in Germany). That's right, mister. There may have been a hundred people at your signing today, and I can see right now you have like, two publicists, but when I read to three people in a Torrence Borders, those three people might not have known about you and your blog, Mr.Wil Wheaton.

I've never even seen Star Trek.

You think you invented blogging? With your smug... you write sci fi? Is that it? And your...

Why am I all worked up about Wil Wheaton? I have no idea. I'm just flattered they still had copies of my book to sign at this store, here on Sunset and Vine. And you know, right now I'm working on the new novel about three feet away from Wil Wheaton. Maybe he'll be good luck for chapter three.

***
I've had my new computer for less than two months and I've already warn away the lettering on the "e" key, half of the "i" key, and there's a dark spot on the lower left side of the computer where my wrist rests when I work. Does that mean I've logged a lot of hours on the machine, or that I'm a monster on my keyboard?

***
As I sit here working on my writing assignment for group tomorrow, I realize that almost all of my high school memories revolve around my family, boys, or writing. I have to tell a story about high school and I'd rather it not be about sex, because we have to read these out loud and everybody knows they're true and it's bad enough they read what they read in the novels. And I don't want to write about boys because one of those boys happens to be in my writing group and I can only imagine he'll always assume I'm writing about him because I why wouldn't he? And I don't want to write about my family because it seems I'm always writing about my family and the whole point of writing group is to write outside your comfort zone.

Writing outside my comfort zone gets difficult when I have the blog to practice writing in my comfort zone every single day. I'm rewarded for writing within my comfort zone.

Boys. Books. Family. There had to be more to high school than that.

Shit. I have to start my fifteen-minute exercise. I think it's cheating that I'm working it out over here.

# posted by pamie : 4:05 PM

archives

Sunday, August 15, 2004

Four on the floor. Or five, really, counting Olive.

when a blogger meets a blogger...

archives

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Sunday, August 15, 2004

Four on the floor. Or five, really, counting Olive.

when a blogger meets a blogger...