(*I haven’t purchased arena concert tickets since No Doubt opened for U2 right after 9/11. Boy was that a shit show. Only because U2 bummed the whole mood by projecting the names of the dead onto the audience and it suddenly turned from Orange County happy fun time to serious political concert. And let’s be honest I was there for Gwen, not Bono (or The Edge even though I happily share an article in my name with him).)

At the last minute TBU’s co-worker called and said she had extra tickets for us. We declined and went drinking with people our own age.

I finished my fourth drink of the night as My Party played and TBU offered to get my fifth, at which point I became irate at the ridiculousness of such a suggestion. When you have to fill out health questionnaires at the doctor every year you have to mention (fucking confess!) how many drinks you have a week. It starts at 0-1 but ends with 5+. As though once you have 5 (in a week!) you may as well go the whole cow. And if I have 5 in one night?! That’s like saying I have 35 drinks a week. Holy fuck, that’s a problem. But if I have just four on a Friday night, that’s casual, that’s like, “Hey, look at me, I’m a fucking adult. I have self control.” But seriously five in a week? What am I fourteen? No, I’m a fucking adult. I drink like one.

At the end of the show super hot but horribly yellow teethed lead singer of Kings of Leon reminds everyone to drive safe. Ha! Such a US of American! The concert is in London, a city that knows it’s way around some public transportation. C’mon US let’s be a real country and transport our people like it’s the normal fucking thing to do. Can we not handle the logistics? Can we not stop sucking fossil fuel’s tar ball dick?! Fucking do it already! We should all be able to traverse the country like it’s our right, not a fucking trust fund privilege to be poor and sweaty for a summer. Gah! But in the mean time, drive safe y’all.

Maybe sometime I’ll tell you about the time I drove completely wasted. Ooops, I just did. I am a failure.

The Millionizer’s is always mad and usually drunk

***

One class down, 2 more to go. But really, the only one that matters is chemistry. That’ll be done late May. Then it’s party time. Like paaaaaaarty time. Like showing chemistry who’s boss. Hint: it’s not chemistry. Although I really enjoy the chemical line drawings, they remind me of the designs on the wall of the theatre I used to go to with my mom. Film nerd shall always be a film nerd.

***

Went to TBU’s grand opening of the lobby he’s been working to hard on at work. It was really impressive. They have this amazing  3-D screen that you don’t need glasses for. It’s incredible. Very techy. What was inspiring was listening to the major donors speak. They sucked as speakers but it made me want to start some sort of program where I could (formally) give to the UCSC film department. Obviously, it won’t be on the scale of a state of the art lobby (yet) but I want to be able to help out a few students with the extreme expenses that accompany being a film major. The production side of the major is really cost prohibitive. I was lucky, because I was able to have my financial aid cover most of the costs. But that was back when the government actually gave you enough money to go to school and live and before UCSC stopped giving a shit about the arts. I’m looking into setting up a non-profit, where I get to make the decisions of course, that has a scholarship program. It’ll be tax deductible, folks!

***

Where does one find a significant other for a friend? Ms. A has threatened to leave San Diego in search of a life mate. We cannot let that happen! I need to get her a couple dates. If you know of anyone in the San Diego area who is 25-32 with a stable job, his own car, and health insurance who does not live with his parents PLEASE LET ME KNOW. Also, no assholes. The situation is dire.

The Millionizer has ideas she never does anything with

]]> http://themillionizer.com/2010/04/11/second-meal/feed/ 4 http://themillionizer.com/2010/04/01/ive-made-a-terrible-mistake/ http://themillionizer.com/2010/04/01/ive-made-a-terrible-mistake/#comments Fri, 02 Apr 2010 01:06:35 +0000 themillionizer http://themillionizer.com/?p=968 I write notes for posts in a notepad at work because I like it’s perfect size-ness. Then I left it in someone else’s office and now it’s nowhere to be found. It can totally be traced back to me since it’s got my name on it. Even if it were anonymous anyone can figure it out since it’s all in purple ink. Do you know what’s in that notebook? Things I don’t even post! Yes, interestingly, I DO HAVE A FILTER. I write shit down then I decide that maybe talking about how awful my coworkers are isn’t necessary. So It stays in the notebook. NOW I CAN’T FIND THE NOTEBOOOK. Luckily, there are never any names in it. BUT STILL.

Oh well. Que sera, sera eh?

Someone asked me the other day how I come up with my post titles, since they rarely have anything to  do with anything. The answer is I get them from the ether most of the time. Most mornings I wake up with some word or phrase repeating in my head and I involuntarily repeat it all day. In the past few days I’ve gotten emotional grandstanding and bip bop flippy flop. So there’s the answer to that.

If I write so many notes for the blog how come there’s never anything new here? The answer is that I am a procrastinator, so badly a procrastinator that I procrastinate doing things that I procrastinate with (ie blogging). Also, I do not get things from my mind to the keyboard very fluidly. It’s a strange, jerky process for me. Which is why I do it, because it’s good for my mind. But it’s hard for me, I don’t know why. I know Sir Chinko and probably X just crap something genius out in 5 minutes then go about their day, satisfied with themselves for having done so. Not I, just getting this far has probably taken me a half hour. But I’m in public, there are things to get distracted by, *see below. So my point is that I have started a podcast. I know! How 2005 of me! But it’s so much easier, I just think of something then I say it and then it’s done! No editing, no erasing what I’ve said to make it mare readable. I say it and it’s out there, bam! And it’s not just me talking at you either. There are guests and topics! So far I’ve had TBU and Savage as guests. Savage was slightly over enthusiastic. Unexpectedly. It’s called The Millionizer on Media and we talk mostly about the media I/we consume or would like to consume, replete with tangents, rants and non-sequiters. You might enjoy it, you might not. I’m still figuring garageband out, so when I do I’ll post what I have weekly, after that, let’s keep our fingers crossed.

*I’m at Rebecca’s coffeeshop near my house waiting for my chemistry tutor and some guy just asked the girl upfront what the wi-fi password is. She said, “sandwich” he said, “sandwich, like it sounds?”

“yep sandwich.”

“Saaaaaaannnnnddddwwwiiich…”

“Yes, sandwich,” points to a large sign reading, “sandwich”

“…”

“s a n d w i c h”

“Sounds good!” then walks out.

Dude must be walking out of every coffeeshop looking for a password not involving letters. Or something, I dono.

Tomorrow night is outdoor drink and getting together with Ms A, I have to convince her to get on the podcast.

The Millionizer is of no interest to you.

PS I sent the Dirty Dancing research paper to Token and X, commence nail biting!

***

They said it couldn’t be done, but I’ve done it. I’ve gone and written a twelve page academic research paper on Dirty Dancing. Not only that, but I got a 96% on it. What happened to the other 4% you ask? Well, upon re-reading what I submitted I found some grammatical errors, “internal contradictions and stylistic excesses,” (Card, 1991). 96% was actually pretty fair. That quote is from Orson Scott Card in his introduction to the 1991 re-release of Ender’s Game. I just always really liked how he phrased that.

When I told my mom about the paper she snapped, “Twelve pages?! They’re just dancing!” Just dancing my bleeding heart. Well I did it people, I fucking did it. And it was fun.

***

As you’ve probably noticed, I have nothing of real interest to share. My life is consumed by working a full time shitastic job where everyone assumes I do nothing and 3 classes. The first two don’t really count since they are easy and allow me to write papers on Dirty Dancing. The third one though, the third one is a bitch. A foul sky cunt who masterminded the Great Potato Rape of 1874. Organic chemistry can suck it.

However, if all goes as planned, I should be in the nursing program by July. So here we go!

The Millionizer is gonna be pissed at her brother in law for a while

What finally made me get some help was an online health survey through TBU’s work. We were bribed to take a survey in exchange for monies. So I did it and answered a bunch of questions and I was like, “Fuck, shit’s going down.” That was the last straw, but there had been months of me perseverating on things I couldn’t change and people’s dumbass decisions I don’t get to make for them. I literally could not stop myself from thinking about all the ways shit was fucked up. So about a month ago I started taking some new medication. I was worried because I didn’t want to become less awesome. I like my biting observations and lack of like for people who are a waste of space on earth. But I also like being able to get things done and sleep soooooo… It was a strategic life move. I’ve noticed that in the last month I’ve had more of a filter. When TBU and I are out I don’t go on about what I don’t like about the people around me, not as much at least. I still think these things, but they don’t come spilling out of my mouth as often. Which begs the question, is it even working if I’m still having these negative thoughts, even though I’m not actually saying anything? It’s all a process and it typically takes between 6 and 8 weeks to see the full effect. I have also noticed that I sleep a lot better these days. TBU says I’m less grumpy. But so far there have been no definitive observations on my more charming qualities.

The Millionizer spent $25 less than her rent on one of her cat’s vet visits today and put her other cat on Prozac yesterday. We are a family of crazy.

A: Look for fresh prints.

On Sunday we exchanged gifts with TBU’s family. T’was Me, Teebs, two brothers Teebs, Mama Teebs and Stepdad Teebs. These are the parents who freaked the fuck out up mention of a wedding planner. You may recall this incident, I certainly do. Anyhow, stepdad Teebs approached me with a box and a very proud look on his face saying, “Here, handpicked by me!” I took my time opening it because the ribbons on there were not just decoration, they were some type of reinforcement. As I’m trying to break into my gift, stepdad TBU keeps saying things like, “I know you like to wear them, so I thought I’d style it up a bit,” and other weird things about my style and apparent lack of it. I open what I am assuming can only be a vintage Gucci gown and feast my eyes upon a plain, zip up hoodie. Seriously, it’s gray all over, it zips up and it’s a sweatshirt. Now I don’t know what he thinks I normally wear that this gem is so stylish but it got kinda insulting. It didn’t stop there though, he told me over and over in various iterations, “Now that’s a generous medium but if that doesn’t fit, they have larges at the store.” He kept reminding me to try it on because I could exchange it for a large. I was like, “I know! You think I’m a horrible, hideous, and particularly unstylish beast! Please stop reminding me that my fat ass might need a large! Thank you!” It didn’t help my case that I WAS wearing a sweatshirt at the time. But in my defense it was a roll out of bed kind of situation and it was a super adorable slug (go slugs!) sweatshirt commemorating the Grateful Dead donating their entire archive to the UCSC library. Soooo, I kind of feel that he was over reacting on my sweatshirt wearing ESPECIALLY since the whole weekend I was wearing actual put together outfits involving undergarments, vintage dresses and super cute shoes. But did he notice that? Noooo, he noticed my sweatshirt. Or something.

And another thing!

I had the grand idea to write my posts at work and just copy and paste upon my grand arrival at home. The problem with that is that the workday brings no pleasure to me and I can’t even pretend to want to get into the head space necessary for a Millz worthy post. Which reminds me are you reading Michael Ian Black’s blog? If you’re not I don’t know what else you’re wasting your life with, but it should be this. And this post in particular speaks to me in so many ways: blogging, excessive emo pop, it’s like he’s in my head.

The Millionizer says adios to to the naughties.

I’ve been otherwise indisposed with working a real job with all day real job hours and planning a fucking wedding. I don’t want to discount all the help I am getting from amazing family and friends but I’m basically putting this thing together by myself. No real complaints though because I like the control. But still, there are so many goram details. Like, just how are the tables names going to be displayed in the centerpiece. Huh, just how? I don’t know the answer to that. It is almost 4am and I have been up all night cutting paper for place cards and table names, writing the program and general fretting. I don’t have a lot of non-wedding things going on in my head so I am going to post the program details I have written so far. The only person you won’t recognize is my cousin Becky. Without further ado, the Millionizer, TBU wedding program as just written by me a few moments ago. Can I get some feedback? Like tell me if it is just too much or if you would enjoy reading a program like this.

The Whos, Hows and Whys

First off, right before we thank you for coming, we have some bad news – we aren’t doing “The Lift”. I know, I know, totally sacreligious but I think we can all have a good time despite that. OK now, thank you so much for coming! We are excited and touched that so many of you chose to spend your holiday weekend with us.

The Whos

TBU – AKA “The Groom” is a handsome, loving and all around adorable human. He has a degree in Film and Digital Media from UC Santa Cruz. Currently, he works at Blankity Blank as a Blank Blank. He is the owner of one overly rambunctious orange cat who is still learning his manners. When he’s not in the middle of getting married, TBU likes to play video games, take pictures and cook amazing meals.

The Millionizer – AKA “The Bride” is a sweet and charming human who is shorter than most people she meets. She also has a degree in Film and Digital Media from UC Santa Cruz. Currently, she works at an organization for children with Autism as their general admin extraordinare and media guru assistant. She is currently awaiting the arrival of many acceptance letters to nursing school.

Sir Chinko – AKA “The Officiant” And yes he really requires both names. Sir Chinko and The Millionizer have been great friends since high school where they first met on the swim team and The Millionizer pretty much gave him no choice but to be her friend. Their friendship was solidified in third period Environmental Science where the teacher gave up trying to silence them. Sir Chinko welcomed TBU into the fray with open arms and the three of them have had countless misadventures in Berkeley, San Francisco and Santa Cruz. Basically, the Bay Area goes on alert when these three congregate.

Ms. A – AKA “The Maid of Honor” has been the best of friends with The Millionizer since um…first grade? These two go way back. They were in Girl Scouts together where lessons were learned and badges were earned. In fact, they both dressed as Girl Scouts for Halloween this year – in their original uniforms. That, my friends, is fact. Ms. A threw the most amazing bachelorette party, The Millionizer is still recovering from it. No really, those heels were high. In summary, Ms. A is the most thoughtful and amazingest friend possible and The Millionizer wouldn’t know what to do without her.

Becky – AKA “Bridesmaid and Unpaid Wedding Planner” is The Millionizer’s cousin. End of story. Just kidding! When these two were younger, cuter and naturally blonder everyone thought they were twins. They were wrong, but these two milked it for free sodas at the American Legion and attention from the public at large. Becky set up those lovely room rates at the hotel for us all to enjoy. So get her a drink if you’re feeling generous. She’s currently a head honcho at Hotel X, but that’s just what she does to pay the bills while she slowly takes over the world with her English Bulldog Nellie.

X – AKA “Bridesmaid and Wedding Mascot” has been friends with The Millionizer since the Summer of 2000, when they both worked at the San Diego KOA. That summer, and seasons since then have consisted of some of the most painful, can’t catch your breath, it hurts to breathe laughter The Millionizer has ever experienced. X is a fabulous hostess who likes to pretend it’s always the early 1960’s.  Let it be known that X has an English degree from UC Berkeley and graduated with Honors. She is probably reading this right now and finding mistakes that none of us ever knew existed. Such is the life of the current Blank Assets manager for Mystery College of Mysteriousness in San Francisco. She is here today with her partner in crime, Snake, who would probably rather be talking about football, so do the guy a favor.

And that is all I have so far. I’m going to make TBU do the whos for his boys, cuz I don’t have much to write about them. I can talk about how is brothers annoy me but that would probably be less than appreciated. I’ll take care of the Hows and Whys tomorrow. Now that the sun’s about to come up it’s about time for bed, I’m nocturnal like that.

The Millionizer is getting married in one week from TODAY. This is not a drill, people.