My Cell Phone Is A Crappy Piece Of Crap

Today was one of the rare days where I was industrious and fantastic. You should all be very proud.

I caulked my apartment tonight! Or rather, my wonderful friend Kay caulked my apartment, and I smoothed it with the nifty fun smoother thing. We didn't get to finish, unfortunately, because we ran out of caulking stuff. [Note: Kay says 'caulk' like a normal person, stressing the 'elle' sound. I say caulk the way a person from Boston would refer to the male reproductive organ.]

I have the work orientation thing tomorrow. Nine to five. Learning codes and shit so I can work the computers. I'm quite nervous, and don't really want to go. I dealt with this by bouncing off the walls all night like a cat on crack and giggling in a very unnerving way as I looked at pictures of Hugh Laurie, while my long-suffering friends Kay and Esse tried to watch West Wing.

My sleep schedule has been permanently fucked up by sitting up all night convinced the roach army is going to carry me away to their underground lair and crawl on me. I have trouble falling asleep, and even more getting up. I should be asleep right now. Then I might have a chance in HELL of getting up when I'm supposed to tomorrow. And since I can't/don't drink coffee anymore, I'll be dragging my sorry carcass around all day. Then I'll probably see my manager, who I think is totally adorable, and say something/stupid/incoherent/frightening, and not only will I be fired, but a nice, cute guy will think I'm a very weird girl.

Finished season one of Heroes. I want Christopher fucking Eccleston to come back. WHY does he only go on shows for a season, make me fall in love with him, then VANISH?! Plus, he was only in five episodes of Heroes. And now he's doing that fucking kid's movie, The Seeker. He makes me sad sometimes. Anyone know anything about New Orleans, Mon Amour?

Hunter S. Thompson was on the cover of Rolling Stone. My dad sent me a copy, which was tragically the highlight of my day. It's really, really good shit. And there are all these books about him coming out! Which I can't afford right now, so it's actually a depressing statement that in no way deserves an exclamation point.

I downloaded the new Foo Fighters album today. Haven't listened yet. Hopefully it won't suck.

This caulk had better keep the roaches out.
- LV

moreless

Day 37 Of Unemployment: Never Eat At A Restaurant That Says, "Howdy Pardners" On The Menu

Trust me on that one.

I'm bored, so you can read this and share the boredom. The exterminator is coming today, so I get to spend the whole day sitting around waiting for him. I'm afraid to leave the apartment at all, because if he comes while I'm away, I have to wait an entire, roachy month for him to return. And that would lead to madness and much vomiting.

I've tried to be industrious. I cleaned the apartment, put away my laundry, and stared off into space for a solid ten minutes daydreaming about... stuff. But I've been waiting since noon, and I would really like to be able to go get something to eat.

Netflix lost my Jeeves & Wooster. I'm very worried. What if this becomes a trend, and they lose all my movies, then cancel my account? WHAT THEN?! I'm not using Blockbuster - I have many, many issues with that evil behemoth. I thought perhaps my neighbor swiped them (because who could resist the sheer erotic masculinity of Hugh Laurie?) since I was away when they came, but the other two DVDs I had ordered appeared right as they should. It's a mystery, I tell you. Incidentally, there's an excellent Hugh Laurie song CALLED 'Mystery.' Go download it.

So that's all. Elle is bored, and you should be too. Or entertain me. Or bring me food from Chickpea. I am hungry, and longing for hummus pita.

May you have a lovely Saturday and not be stuck in your fucking domicile for the whole damn day.
- LV

moreless

Day 29 Of Unemployment: More Strange Rumblings In September

Saw my third roach today. Admittedly, it was dead, and in the hallway outside my apartment, but it was fucking huge. Terrifyingly huge. I threw it in the garbage. Away from me. And sprayed again.

So much for false bravado about roaches. They're evil. They're scary. Let's all admit that, and move on with our lives.

Watching more Dexter. This is a seriously damaged show. Wonderful, funny, sad, all the adjectives I use when I like something, but still, totally damaged. Just like the titular character. Beautifully shot, I should add. Few television shows are done in such an artistic way. Most just frame things, shoot them, and that's it. But this - this show allows for the full potential of the medium. I've always said TV doesn't have to look like shit - it just normally does. Then again, most shows don't have gallons of blood to play around with. That certainly adds a colorful touch.

Had a lovely night. Went over to the dynamic duos' place (Kay and Esse, the ass-kickers of... stuff that needs its ass kicked), and Kay taught me how to make pasta. Well, more specifically, pasta sauce. Even I can make pasta. But I was happy that it turned out decently. Meaning it tasted OK, and it didn't kill anyone. The pasta stuck together, but that couldn't be helped.

And their apartment is enormous. Which has nothing to do with pasta, or cooking, but warrants mentioning, because I get to go hang out over there whenever they let me.

Can I just say that I absolutely adore that Dexter uses the name Patrick Bateman. Brilliant. That's from American Psycho, for those of you whom I now hate. Whom or who? Which is right? And why should it matter to me?

I'm rereading the Harry Potter series. Well, the four I read. I need to read the last three, so I can lust creepily over Snape, the only interesting aspect of the series. At least the books I read. I'm also reading Darkly Dreaming Dexter, because that's what I do when I like something.

That's all for now. May the roaches not come to my apartment. The rest of you are on your own.
- LV

moreless

Day 27 Of Unemployment: OK, Now I'm Bored

* Work yesterday was boring. I set up a MySpace for the company, and looked for high schools with theater programs. New York schools suck, generally. I mean, I always knew, but it never really struck me. I never fully comprehended. Blame it on growing up spoiled and sheltered in the suburbs. It made me sad. Oh, and I found the way to work by Googling the company. I'm a genius. Or something.

* I like how 'google' is a verb. And TiVo. New verbs are awesome. Rather than saying, "I looked it up online," I get to shorten the whole sentence to, "I Googled it." Capitalization is optional. Pretty soon the whole of the English language will be reduced to simply yelling, "Google!' in different tones of voice.

* I may have work tomorrow. I don't know. I don't know anything. ElleVee lacks information.

* More former roommate drama. It's stopped being funny, and has now become completely irritating. She demands my presence for the final walk-through of the apartment, even though SHE has the keys, and I have other things to do. OK, so my life isn't full if important events at this moment, but still. Flossing would be more important. We were supposed to go today, actually, but she never called me. She's probably still asleep. And I sleep late - I woke up near noon today - but she makes me look like a sprightly early morning... sprite. The creature, not the drink. She usually wakes up around five or six in the evening, if she doesn't have work. I just want it to be done. I want to end this and move on with my life.

* Got my Netflix today! Huzzah! Jeeves & Wooster, and the rest of season one of Dexter. Joy in my veins. Much joy.

* My family is coming to visit this weekend. My dad will finally be seeing the apartment he's essentially paying for. This will be interesting. Things have been a bit tense these past few weeks, for a plethora of reasons I don't feel like going into at this moment. I love the word 'plethora.' So this weekend will be either a happy, joyful reunion wherein we all hug and cry, or it will be tense and excessively polite and I will end up twitching like a cat on crack.

* They say the commercials between shows target the intended audience of said show. So, since I've been watching courtroom drama all day - Judge Joe Mathis and Judge Maria Lopez - I must assume that the intended audience eats a fuckload of IHop, has no car insurance, sues over injuries that were caused by their own idiocy, did not graduate from high school, and need to lose a lot of weight. Channel 11 does not have a lot of respect for its viewers. And where does that leave me?
- I haven't eaten at an IHop since high school.
- I don't have a car anymore.
- If I sued every time I fell down, I'd spend my entire fucking life in court. I fall down constantly. Sometimes when I'm not even moving.
- I did not graduate from high school. I did, however, graduate from college, so I guess it evens out.
- Of course I need to lose weight. Statistically speaking, everyone needs to lose weight. We're all AWFUL! IHop, anyone?

So two out of five. Not bad, Channel 11, not bad.

* My roommate called. She's sick, apparently. So, once again, I need to do every fucking thing just to settle the apartment. If you guys see me on the TV wanted for murder, please inform the proper authorities that I was doing a service to humanity. No, I won't really kill her (in case you were rushing to the phone). I just want her to go far, far away, and stop bothering me. Is that so much to ask? IS IT?!

* Watching an ad for Christian rock - the concerts look like the most fucking boring shit I have ever seen. Otherwise, if you changed a few words in the lyrics, these bands could be singing about the girl of their dreams.

* I need to clean. Cleaning makes life better. And keeps the roaches away. I haven't seen one in days. They're plotting my demise. The reckoning shall come.

May your roommates be sane, your family be well-adjusted, and your stress be non-existent.
- LV

moreless

Day 19 Of Unemployment: Job Interviews, Friends, & Serial Killers

Wow. My job interview went badly. Like, really badly. The cops may be busting in here at any moment, since that woman probably thought I was stoned/tired from a night of slaughtering in the innocent.

Actually, I was tired because I had a brief bout of insomnia, and was up until around two in the morning watching House and worrying about roaches. So by the time I had my interview, I was a wreck. A twitchy, cranky, inarguably unbalanced wreck.

It also didn't help that I didn't want the job. And referred to it as 'menial.' I also may have snorted when she said I had to stay for two years. I think we're just going to pretend this didn't happen. OK, to be honest, I wasn't terrible. I definitely came across as hostile, but I was spot-on with all my answers. I have all the necessary experience, and I'm totally qualified. I was just blatantly bored. Which, for those of you not yet in the job-hunting world, is a bad attitude to adopt in the presence of a potential future employer.

Fuck it. Roommate (or Former Roomate, as I suppose she should now be called) is coming by to pick up some of her stuff that my mom accidentally packed because she hates me and wants to force me to interact with a would-be serial killer.

Speaking of serial killers, I rented Dexter from Netflix. I've been watching for maybe five minutes, and I am completely hooked. The lead guy, whose name I can't remember at the moment, was always brilliant on Six Feet Under. Plus, he's cute in an awkward sort of way. I can't say if this will become a House/V For Vendetta/Doctor Who-level obsession, but I can enjoy a ahow without being insane about it. After all, I like Ugly Betty, and you don't see me blathering for hours about how amazing that show is. It is - you should watch it - but I'm not crazed about it.

I'm going to make a TV show list now. And watch Dexter. Fuck - Roommate's here. I'll keep the TV off - don't want her getting any ideas.
- LV

moreless

Day 18 Of Unemployment: Movies, TV, & Errands

Uneventful day. Got a lot done.

Due to the efforts of my lovely friend Jay, I have a job interview tomorrow for a big evil corporation doing stupid, menial shit. That makes me sound ungrateful, and I guess I am. I need a job - let's be clear on that, at least. I would be totally content to spend my days relaxing, reading, watching movies, and psychotically looking around for roaches, but eventually the money would go away, and I'm not charming enough to beg for money. So to the job hunt we go.

Speaking of roaches, we're still at two. Of course, now I've jinxed it, so a small army will overrun my tiny apartment and eat me alive. If I stop posting updates, assume that. It will be funny for all. Except me, of course, but I'll be in no position to complain.

Watched The Singing Detective last night. Weird, weird movie. I spent roughly two hours watching Robert Downey, Jr. scream obscenities from a hospital bed and have strange hallucinations. But it was fun - fun in the sense that I have no real idea what the fuck the movie was about, beyond a few basics. Here's what I can tell you: Downey is a crime novelist with some weird hideous disease that makes him look like paper mache, or however the hell it's spelled. He's cranky and yells a lot, and hallucinates shit from his childhood, and scenes from his books. Oh, and there's singing. Or rather, lip synching. Which was the one issue I had with the whole movie: Downey has a beautiful, sexy voice, and except for a song playing over the credits, he never sings once.

Oh, and Mel Gibson is in it, and has the weirdest fucking cameo ever. I could not identify him for the first half of the movie. It was only during a close-up, and my reaction was, 'Holy shit, that's Mel Gibson!' Robin Wright Penn is in it, and so is Adrien Brody. It's fun if you accept the fact that it doesn't make much sense. And Robert Downey, Jr. gives a brilliant, wonderful performance. He's always great. One of the few actors I like, regardless of his character.

Watching House right now and drinking Bass Ale. Life is good. Incidentally, this episode 'Acceptance' features a terrifying performance by Jay-Z. It always surprises me when singers/rappers can actually act. They're like a subspecies of performers when it comes to the visual media. When they're doing their own thing, they can be fantastic. But they have trouble when it comes to other people's materials. Anyway. In this episode, House gets drunk and giggles like a little girl. Reason enough to see it.

May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your home. Unoriginal, I know. If you don't like it, may the forces of evil race to your home with the vengeance of a crack head in withdrawal.

Love,
- LV

moreless

Day 17 Of Unemployment: Strange Rumblings At The End Of August

Random thoughts and traumatizing incidents.

* I have seen two roaches in three days. I have sprayed with Raid and set traps, and I saw one AFTER that. And I can't caulk the entire fucking apartment. Can I? How does one caulk? I just want them to leave me alone! I don't want them to die. Just to be far, far away from me and my hysterical screaming. Any advice?

* Last night, after walking home from a movie (more on it below), a very drunk Irish guy threw a paper Heineken coaster at me. He missed, laughed, and hugged me. Then he asked me where I was going. He was very drunk, I was very hot and tired, and overall it wasn't what I needed.

* Today, reading in the park, minding my OWN fucking business. Some random homeless guy came over, sat down beside me, and ran his hand up my thigh. I beat a hasty retreat.

* Saw The 11th Hour last night. It was OK. Main problem is that Leonardo DiCaprio is too attractive to be taken seriously. He's not on my list of crushes or anything. He's just very pretty. And it's hard to take him seriously, although I'm sure he's very smart and cares a lot about the environment. He's just pretty. And unexpected. But any movie with Stephen Hawking AND Gore Vidal is worth seeing, right?

* I'm watching The 40-Year-Old-Virgin for the second time today - first time with the commentary, now without. It's a funny fucking movie. And surprisingly sweet. Which is why everything Judd Apatow does is awesome. Let's all be friends with him.

* I went to McSorley's today. It was fucking incredible. After reading about it for years, I finally got to go with Esse and her family. We drank ale and ate the most awe-inspiring meal ever - a sliced hunk of cheddar cheese, a sliced onion, and a packet of saltine crackers. And they make you pay for this. It was really good. I love it. I want to live there. The big tough men would protect me from the fucking roaches.

* DEAR GOD THE FUCKING ROACHES I HATE BUGS SO MUCH WHY CAN'T THEY LEAVE ME ALONE I JUST WANT THEM TO BE ELSEWHERE THEY ARE HUGE AND TERRIFYING AND EVIL AND WHAT IF THEY CRAWL UP YOUR UNMENTIONABLES WHILE YOU'RE SLEEPING YOU WOULD NEVER GET OVER THAT SHIT EVER MAN GUYS DON'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THAT VERY REAL FEAR ROACHES ARE GROSS AND EVIL AND SCARY OH GOD MAKE THEM GO MAKE THE BAD MEN STOP I NEED AN ADULT!

So that's it for now. I have a bad headache from the fucking Raid. And I'm going to go spray more now. Also I need to buy bay leaves. Roaches dislike bay leaves. Roaches have taken over my life pretty quickly and easily. We should respect and fear them. I just fear them.

Seriously, may the roaches go to your home. No offense, but I cannot deal with them. May they go to your home, and may you get them exterminated. Because I am a howling nervous wreck when it comes to anything with more than four legs, and you should deal with them instead of me.
- LV

moreless

Day 15 Of Unemployment: Moving, Screaming, & The TARDIS

So. I'm in my new place. And I love it. I really, really do. It's small and cozy and old and entirely mine. I'm genuinely happy here.

The move was hellacious. Just hours and hours of unpacking and rearranging and moving and stress. I've decided that Hell, is in fact not a place; it is simply the constant act of moving. Packing and unpacking, never stationary. That's Hell.

And roaches.

Yes, I, ElleVee, finally saw a New York roach.

I mean, I've seen them before. Never when I lived in the dorms in Chelsea. Which, considering the level of decay and refuse, is pretty remarkable. When I was in the dorms in the Financial District, we had a few. But I had a clever solution. I would kill them with my roommates' shoes, control my gag reflex, then cover them with a piece of paper towel. My roommate would thank me by waking me up with her screams.

As for the most recent place, Roommate probably ate all the roaches that dared enter our home. But I'm terrified of bugs. Absolutely. I don't mind rats, or snakes, or closed spaces, or heights. I hate planes, and bugs. Roaches on a plane is like my ultimate horror movie. That's what would sell the fucking tickets for me. Of course, I could never leave the house, but that's neither here nor there.

Anyway. My first roach. My first unassisted, New York roach. And believe me, that fucker was BIG. I measured it from a safe distance as I cowered, shrieking in the corner. It was around two inches. so tomorrow I'm going to K-Mart, and I'm going to buy out the collection of bug sprays and traps. I don't care if the chemicals make me grow another fucking head. Both heads will be bug-free.

Moving on to less crawly matters, I finally swallowed my crazy anal behavior (can you even do that? I mean, it's a play on the phrase, 'swallow your pride,' but can you do THAT either? I always imagines pride to be located in the stomach.), and watched series two of Doctor Who. After the regeneration of Nine, I was understandably devastated. Then again, I have cried - really cried - at each of the Doctor's regenerations. Because I have serious problems. It's the same mood that sometimes strikes me and makes me sob because House has a limp, or because some fictional character has a terminal disease or emotional problem. And even though I heard the Tenth Doctor was/is brilliant, I wasn't quite ready.

But today, I was. And I'm happy I did. Ten, while he will never be my favorite, has performed brilliantly so far. He has even managed to make me cry. Non-Doctor Who fans will have no idea what the fuck I am talking about here. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Doctor Who is on the list of TV shows that must be watched. Must.

The episode that made me cry, if anyone cares, is the one where Sarah Jane Smith returns. It's devastating on about ten (haha!) levels. Their final goodbye - particularly his last line - broke my heart more than a fictional character should be able to.

David Tennant is perfect. I hate to admit it, but he is. He's not the pretty-boy dork I feared he would be. He really does channel some of the Fourth Doctor, who was the most popular one ever. But he inarguably has caught some of Nine's crazy. And he references his previous incarnation often. And he has to act like a total dick a lot of the time, yet still be endearing and lonely and tortured. And, you know, an alien. Which is much harder than one might imagine. So I'm happy.

I mean, Nine got the shaft in a big way - he was a one-season Doctor, and had to basically be a severely damaged alien alone in the universe. But Ten is dealing with his own pile of shit. And angst. I really need series three to come out.

I will say, though, this incarnation of the Doctor gets some serious ASS. Well, as much ass as the Doctor ever gets. You can't really show alien sex. More like this Doctor has gotten kissed more than any other. Actually, if the Doctor DID have sex, I would probably need serious therapy, along with a large portion of England. And the BBC wouldn't want to spend that sort of money. I maintain that Nine was hotter, though. Then again, I found the Second Doctor attractive in a geeky way, so maybe I'm an unreliable source.

I'm watching the show as I type, and this season has some beautiful moments. And I doubt you all want me to narrate a show none of you are currently watching, and many of you have never even seen. Assholes. You guys fail at life. F minus. Now leave me to my alien. The Doctor and I are in love. After all, he's in the top five. And that is a hard list to break into.

May you go out and watch Doctor Who. And if you don't, may all the roaches in the universe go to your home, and STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME.
- LV

moreless