Good Housekeeping

Tony Robbins. Dave Ramsey. Oprah. Gurus aren’t exactly in short supply.

My personal inspiration is Eva, the woman who cleans my apartment once a month. Her energy is contagious. She offers beauty secrets with homemade oatmeal-brown sugar-lemon juice scrubs. If an SUV driver even taps the bumper of her Toyota Corolla they will be put in place. Her morning meditation/yoga routine succinctly moves I paid good money to learn from a physical therapist and spent years in quasi-spiritual endeavors gleaning.

Shortly, she is the world’s most interesting woman.

Woodwork

Actually loved ones don’t have to die for relatives or others to start declaring what they want from the estate. Seems like most folks are inhibited to tell their loved one what they really desire when their relative is writing them inti the well. They don’t want to seem greedy in front of others. Of course, perhaps they don’t see their desperation once it’s too late.

I found something similar happen to me when I left Germany. Despite living their a year, I had acquired a mass of books, household appliances, and CDs. I couldn’t give them away to people. Were people raiding the garbage bin when I left town?

Too Nice

Honesyly the phrase “too nice” has almost become fightin’ words. This theme has largely involved my living in Los Angeles.

I’m nitsure if folks are tryingnto appeal to some sacred sincerity inside if me or ideal that they themselves wish they had. The way I take it usually means “oh well. Doormats like you make it in this town.”

The funny thing is that most folks are trying to be kind when they say such thing. Yet it’s far from kind. Somehow, it passes judgment that you can’t cut the mustard.

Well, you know. I’m a survivor. And when folks say “helpful” drivel, it fails to address something far more important. Being “nice” is a strategy just like being “mean”. No particular place has a franchise on being the nicest city in America. Los Angeles does win at being shallow, but I mean look at places like Dallas. Dallasites can be just as shallow and they dont have movie stars.

So, take your advice and suck it. Douchebags are defender and so are nice people. Just don’t be condescending to me anymore. That’s just not fucking nice.

Interviews, Rejection, Dating & Mysterious Gifts

The interview I had this morning was my second one I’ve had this month – this year actually. Though the guy who scheduled it and the boss who told me to set it up either, I managed to tell the guy who ended up interviewing me plenty of good stuff. I think. Considering it’s for an unpaid internship, I guess I didn’t have much to lose. The idea that I would spend half an hour driving each way to an unpaid internship position would have perhaps been insulting even a year ago. I mean I’m a college graduate. That means a lot, right? Haha. I used to think so before the Great Recession.

And the job that I interviewed for two weeks ago – thought I had it in the bag – didn’t come through either. Sad and angry were the two prominent feelings after getting the email. Fatburger late in the afternoon seemed to ease the pain somewhat. The staff at Fatburger gets so excited when you order a fat burger and fat fries: “FAT BURGER and FAT FRIES.” They must have to shout that hundreds of times a day, but they seem to enjoy that you are clogging your arteries. Maybe I should start doing that at obvious things at my work. Even though every burger is a fat burger, you gotta make it fun, right? Just gotta get the job too.

Mysteriously, someone left a Foo Fighters “Wasting Light” at my doorstep. I managed to wash the dishes and most feelings of rejection out of my hair. Not exactly hardcore music, but enough to forget about what was buggin’ me. Still at a loss for who it was. Male handwriting. No ideas.

Top off a full and strange day, I had my first date in quite a while. As in I knew the guy already and asked him out. This is not exactly usual behavior for me. I mean I actually asked someone out AND he said yes. That is weird enough in itself. Strange forces are in effect as today manifested itself. No crazy making out or bookie. He did say he had fun hanging out and would like to again. I never know how to take that when someone says it. I think I’ll just go to bed instead of tryig to figure everything out. Apparently, life doesn’t work out that way anyways.

Loud and Annoying on Sunset Blvd.

For some reason, the larger a city is the more people feel road need to give you the finger after cutting you off in road rage, carry on not so sotte voce conversations with relatives back at home in Italy on Skype or to ask the cashier in the drive-thru at McDonald’s to open ten or so straw wrappers for you to see if the seam on the straw lines up properly with the seam that joins the straw together – honking horns bedamned.

Narcissism in souther California is not exactly news. I think the audacity of people hear is really what makes our variety so fun. We are a city of performers. In search of something to make our noticed. That’s why we moved here after all. “Nobody noticed me in Queens, everyone back there was a drunk a-hole, and my spirit was squashed. I will move to the second largest city in America and there people will notice my true gifts: I’m a loud douche from Queens.”

So, we might not be able to make our mark on America, but damn it we will make our marks on Southern California at the very least. I will sing “Mad World” at the top of my lungs in the middle of ralph’s to the muzak. The public must know me. I am a citizen of Los Angeles.

On Caffeine

Back in my younger days, I would question anyone who dared abstain from drinking coffee. After all, these folks still had beers to drink or bong chambers to clear. Hypocrites, I thought. “They’re not staying true to the real American drugs of choice: Coffee and Diet Coke.”

Resurrection

Numerous times blogging has saved my life. I survived bleak winters in Germany, had old friends have discussions about Seinfeldian issues. Those days feel distant. Babies, bad economies, B. Obama have all happened since then.

I admit there’s a lot of ego and validation that goes into a blog. Yet I miss interacting with people outside of the West Hollywood/Silverlake bubble that I now immersed myself in.

Werk.

Does Anyone Still Read Spittingtacks?

Hi Abandonded Reader,

Life got busy and not so busy in the past year. Rather than whine about the economy and whatnot, I decided to take a blogging holiday. Plus, everyone has been so Facebook and Twitter happy the past few years that I often wondered if my blog still mattered. Yet, Twitter and Facebook have taught me that I don’t really want everybody knowing what my business is.

If you still read, leave a comment. I may be inspired to blog again. Wow, that sounds really self-important, no?

Slowing Down

In school and college, I would often be the first kid to get something off of my desk and into the teacher or professor’s in box. I prided myself in being fast. 90% of my college career revolved around the all-nighter. Don’t get me wrong, I studied regularly and spent lots of time in the library. However, when it came to taking a test or writing a paper, I was a sprinter. Fortunately, I can write a pretty damned good first draft.

In college especially, many professors aren’t likely to nit-pick. If all you’re aiming for was a B that was sufficient.

Since becoming a grown up, I’ve been learning over and over again that scraping by and aiming for the B isn’t going to get you the place you want to be a lot of times. People don’t want to see a stray period in your resume. They don’t want a lot of mistakes out there.

Instead of being a perfectionist, the lesson for me is to slow the f*&@ down and to start earlier on things. Sprinting works alright through your mid 20s and then your body and brain make you realize that you have to start pacing yourself. I now understand friends of mine who used to rest the weekend before a job interview on a Monday. I get why one guy would go to bed by 10pm in college. It makes you rested and ready.

Here’s to slowing the heck down and coming to something a little later with a fresh set of eyes. Two new steps to add to every task: start earlier and put it down and come back to it.

My New Chinese Typewriter

My New Chinese Typewriter

Originally uploaded by Team Tamale

I want one.