The Pwnage of Dienerd will continue through 2014

Another black eye against Dienerd in his War on Zook.

So here's my guess: FOX was planning a new two-hour series that would air on Friday nights. It would be called "Come On, Your Horny Dateless Geeks! Jerk it to our Network for a Couple of Hours." It was going to start 4 unknown actresses--all younger than 25, all less than 100 pounds--who dress up, shoot guns, beat up men, and prance around sexily for awkward, stammering male science types. The network would save a boatload of money on this project because they wouldn't need to hire writers to write that icky "plot" and "dialogue" stuff.

Unfortunately, FOX hit a snag along the way. Maybe one of the girls ate a cookie and ballooned up up 101 lbs.; maybe the recession destroyed the tight leather pants, tank tops, and prop guns industry; maybe they couldn't find an actor awkward or stammery enough to play the Computer Geek Through Whom the Audience is Supposed to Live Vicariously. Either way, the new series failed and FOX decided, "Fuck it! Move that Terminator show and pair it with that Eliza Dushku project the sci-fi crowd's been crying for. There's your block."

And so we have our new FOX Friday night...at least for a couple of weeks.

This is my first experience with Joss Whedon. I heard he's supposed to be some sort of science-fiction genius. I certainly hope that the episodes of Firefly sitting in my Netflix queue do more to prove that.

As for FOX, thanks but no thanks. I'll stick to the "Snarky Doctor/Right-Wing Torture Fantasy" block you have going for Monday.

DAMMIT!

This is a tough night to be a fan of the underdog. It also sucks because I pretty much know only one person from Pittsburgh who isn't a total jagoff. But I guess this just goes to show: if you want to see the underdog win, that's why Hollywood exists. If you want to see the best team win, that's why sports exist.

But now I fear I have become Underdog Crazy. So now, if the home team loses, I am going to be forced to root for the #16 seed, the LA Clippers, the Detroit Lions, the team from the non-BCS conference (make the playoff happen, Obama!), and the American table tennis player.

Baseball is easy since I already root for the Cubs.

We will always have Super Bowl XLII, though, right?

As (some of them) say in Chicago: HEGONE!

In his honor, I shall dedicate my life to being a scumbag and, instead of apologizing, read everybody a poem. I'll start here:

There once was a man, Blagojevich.
Whose run in the office hit a hitch.
Illinois got him impeached.
And a decision was reached.
Now he has to avoid being Bubba's bitch.

Good lord this Saturday is going by slower than usual. It's only now the afternoon and I'm collapsing from boredom.

I'm not writing to show you how bored I am, I'm no long that guy. But to give you an idea of just how desperate I am for something to today, I was this close--this close--to signing up for Twitter. Yes, I almost became a twitterer. That's just how far gone this day has been.

The feeling has passed, but I remain ever-vigilant on this day, because it could strike again at any moment.

I haven't played a video game since Starfox 64. But--and I don't know why--I feel the oddest need to buy Guitar Hero World Tour. It's the damnedest thing. And I don't even have a video game system.

There was just something about that commercial I couldn't put my finger on...hmmmm...

I've been out of the video game loop so long that I didn't realize that this commercial and the commercial featuring Kobe, A-Rod et al. were for the same game and that "Rock Band" and "Guitar Hero" were two different games. Make no mistake: The Kobe commercial was an abomination. This one is...not.

And now my post has been ruined :-(

The Steve Harvey Show will become the Heidi of the 21st century. And I like Steve Harvey. He's funny. It's a close race between him and Bernie Mac as the funniest King of Comedy (those other two tools don't come close).

So remember, guys. Don't kill the messenger. When looking back at this little network hiccup, remember who deserves the real anger: TBS. Steve Harvey was just a loyal servant sent to fill in.

He may be pompous and melodramatic when he does it, but when Keith Olbermann gets off on his political ranting, it's at least grounded in some accuracy and humor. If somebody like Bill O'Reilly or Rush Limbaugh were to keep a running tally of Barack Obama's lies so that he might publicly donate $100/lie to charity (as Keith does with Sarah Palin), he would probably do it in such a way that it would only look bitter and angry. That's really the fundamental difference between Keith Olbermann and his righty counterparts.

What does this have to do with anything?

Well, taking my cue from the Countdown host, I decided to keep track of the annoying acts of a certain other person. When this person engaged in these...acts, I tried to donate $200 to charity and take out a full page ad in the sports section of every newspaper that's featured on ESPN's Around the Horn. Well after realizing that a: I don't have the funds to do this and b: I was playing right into this person's hand, I decided to restructure my strategy. I might not have the money to donate to charity, but I do have a full-page ad in me:
GREG
DIENER
IS
A
COWARD

He knows what he did.

The mask I wear: satisfied

I know that several people on this here friends list have already claimed the US Women's Beach Volleyball team, and I would certainly not want to step on any toes. It was careless of me not to do my advanced scouting. If I had bothered to care about the Olympics before last weekend, I would've been the on the volleyball bandwagon before any of you guys. But it's okay. You can keep beach volleyball. I have seen my future ex-wife and she goes by the name of Alicia Sacramone, Olympic gymnast. So what if she lost to a bunch of 12-year-old girls. She's still graceful, beautiful, and, oh by the way, limber as all hell. I might have missed the first bandwagon, but I win in the end. And if any of you try to infringe on my choice, I'll have her knock you the fuck out.

The bastards in the media made her cry though. And that's not cool. I'd call for a boycott on NBC, but that would put me too close to Bill O'Reily territory for comfort.

But, to be honest, I felt kinda bad leering at the gymnastics team. They were actually very very good at what they do. It's not like cheerleading, where they're obviously there as eye candy. This ladies forced you to actually care about gymnastics. I was too busy appreciating their routine to--ahem--appreciate their routine. Next time, I'm just going to stick to the NCAA stuff. 99% of them aren't going to make it to the Olympics so it's okay to leer. There are only a couple of individual events left and after that, I can focus my attention to the one sport I actually cared about coming into the game: basketball. I had no idea Great Britain's national team--the team that has Ben Gordon and Luol Deng--didn't even go to the Olympics. Good work, guys. You two held up the Chicago Bulls with your contract BS. You could've at least gone to Beijing to make our troubles worth something. My prediction: USA in a hard fought one.

(Yes, rialtus, I know that doesn't count. My real take is coming up.)

The mask I wear: flirty

I haven't done a meme in a long long time because, quite frankly, many of them are silly. But I ran across one that my buddy femme_dramatica is doing that tickles me for some reason. It's the perfect inspiration for a tragically inconsistent blogger like me. So I'm yanking it and issuing this challenge to you:

1. We have a list of all 26 letters of the alphabet.
2. Comment with something for me to talk about that starts with one of those letters.
3. Comment with only one topic per letter. I will add topics to the letters as they appear.
4. You can comment multiple times, but only if the letter you chose hasn't already been taken.
5. I will post a new post talking about all topics given to me!
6. Please feel free to be as random as you like when picking topics!

A - Anchorage, Alaska
B - Basketball
C - Cantaloupe
D - Digital TV
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M - Muppets
N
O
P - Pets
Q
R
S
T
U
V - Violence
W
X
Y
Z - Zephyrs

Ready? Go.

The bar has been set.

When you're starting out in a field, who do you compare yourself to? Do you look to your own peer group (rookies and wannabes) or do you set your sights above an beyond, starting out the gate trying to be better than the best ("Just like Mike" syndrome)? As a writer, I'm still struggling to find my level, the level that a starter's work should meet. But thanks to my brah's at The Dub, I have found a suitable standard to which I can set my work (SFW, but not SFGoodSense).

If my first project is not at least as good as the sample in the above link, then it's time for me to close up shop before it even opens. That is my promise to you.

The mask I wear: impressed

The Regeneration Tour kicked ass. What more can I say? I've obviously never been to Universal Studios before, but it is a very impressive park. I didn't take the opportunity to look around much because my terrible sense of following directions left me a little behind schedule. I did, of course, notice the fountain at the entrance. That's a sight that anybody who paid attention to the closing credits of old school Nickelodeon shows surely remembers. I'll have to hang out there one day. If I had stuck with the original NYFA plan, I would be taking classes at the back lot. But, as I've said before, a better offer came. It's okay, though. Nobody goes to Universal City and remembers the film school that operates out of there.

The concert was amazing. Each act performed an 8 or 9 song set starting with Naked Eyes. I can't really say much about them since I don't follow the band. The lead singer paid a good amount of attention to the 8 plants girls who were dancing in the front row while everybody else was still filing in during the set. I only know one of their songs (Promises, Promises), which they closed with. Good touch. I also never realized how good (and cougarific) Belinda Carlisle is. A little poppy for me, but she was able to get the audience going. She even elicited a couple of "I LOVE YOU, BELINDA!" calls from some guy behind me. The final act was The Human League (another big favorite of mine) with the requisite Radio Shack setup. You might not think synth is cool in 2008, but they made it happen in a big way. When you're in the middle of 6,000 people singing "Don't You Want Me," you know you've got a good show. But you know that I was in it from the beginning for Martin Fry/ABC. And, as expected, they stole the whole damn show. It was almost disappointing that they went second. I am not even exaggerating when I say that the entire theater was on their feet from beginning to end. They got the loudest, longest ovation of the night (though the other three did win over LA themselves). I had no idea just how well remembered the guy who always wore the shiny suits in his videos is after 25 years. In fact, as I was walking to the theater I was behind a woman walking with her young daughter (about 4 or 5). The woman asks the girl, in that sickeningly cutesy child voice, "And who is headlining tonight?" The girl shoots back, no hesitation, "ABC!" I don't know what's going on in that house, but she just jumped in the lead for my Mother of the Year voting. Now I know much bigger and better known names were able to come out of the decade. But if I could be half as good at whatever I end up doing with my life as those people were tonight, then I would have had a very very good run.

A few days ago I came to the disturbing realization that this coming college class will be filled with kids who were born in 1990. Nineteen ninety. Crunching those numbers made me feel old. However, listening to everybody and their "child of the 80s" and "I remember that" language made me feel quite young. See, it's all relative. Overall, the concert was just what I needed to feel active in this city. There are a million things to do in Los Angeles in any given night. But, for my money, I picked the best option out there by far.

The mask I wear: dorky

I was just talking to somebody the other day about how in the two months that I've been in LA, I haven't felt an earthquake. Well, consider that streak broken.

As rialtus said earlier, it's being reported as a 5.84 based in Chino Hills, which is apparently about 50 miles away from the Valley, and lasted for 45-60 seconds. I'm fine, and no damage was done, except for a small, unoccupied shelf on my TV stand falling.. It's my fault, really. Those little rubber fastening screws are a pain to tighten.

It took six minutes before I got a call from home. That's impressive, even for my mother. But it looks like the earthquake made the front page of CNN, MSNBC, Fark, and whatever radio station she was listening to when she called, so I guess it was kind of a big deal. Mental note: that was big, even by SoCal standards.

And, just like some other things in life, you always remember your first time (that earthquake that hit the Midwest a few months ago), but it wasn't nearly has good and riotous as the others.

The mask I wear: silly

It's been a couple of months so I forgot to mention this. But I bought ticket to see The Regeneration Tour just down the road in Universal City. This concert promises to be nothing less than epic, featuring--get this--Dead or Alive, The Human League, and the greatest band to ever perform a note: ABC. There's even a rumor of a Flock of Seagulls sighting so, you know, I have to get ready for that too. Now, I've already fawned over ABC when they were at the zoo in 2005. I'm actually interested in seeing how the Human League and Dead or Alive do. Five minutes of youtube searches tells me that The League are prolific lip-synchers and I honestly though DoA returned to their home planet back in 1987. Either way, this should be a lot of fun. There isn't even a Chicago leg of this tour either so if I were back home I would be screwed. That all happens on August 5, so I have something to look forward to for the next couple of weeks. So to all the people who have been asking me if I've done anything since moving, like I'm some kind of listless, socially crippled kindergartener, take that.

The mask I wear: excited

I call on YOU, O Wise and Knowledgeable Internet People.

So my Firefox has been acting up over the last couple of months. I'm having this problem where I'm surfing along, clicking links, typing text, doing standard internet stuff when, all of the sudden--and at any time, the browser stops loading pages. It doesn't freeze, it doesn't crash, it stops. The message "stopped" appears in the status bar, and any attempts to click a link or go forward and back does absolutely nothing. Merely closing the browser doesn't help; I need to end the process via the task manager.

A few similar problems showed up on a Firefox Forum search, but the solutions have been less than helpful. I do not have any of the add-ons that are mentioned in the reports of this "hanging" problem. The random stopping does not seem to be affected by memory leakage, overheating, or CPU usage. And it is not a connection issue as other browsers work perfectly during this hang. As far as I know, this problem is as random as random can get.

So the Firefox forums didn't help, Google certainly didn't help (you try searching for computer problem in which one of the key terms is "stopped"), and that brings me to you, noble Friends List of Doom. I've been using Firefox for a couple of years now and, up until a couple of months ago, it was everything I wanted in a browser and more. I would hate to switch over to something like Opera. Sure, I could learn to love it in time. But I just want my non-stop Firefox back. Help?

The mask I wear: confused

The other day I had a rerun of The Simpsons on in the background while I was tracking a baseball game on the internet. The episode ended and TMZ was next. Not being interested in anything that celebrities do, I'd never seen TMZ. But you know how my morbid curiosity is. So I turned off the baseball game and sat back for a half-hour of pure professional stalking. That one episode proved everything that I suspected about paparazzi and celebrity culture: it's sad, soulless, creepy and all involved should be put down with extreme prejudice. It is literally just Harvey Levin at a House-like glass board while his "staff" takes turns telling him what they've "got." "Oooh, I've got Miley Cyrus shopping in Malibu." "Oooh, here's Celine Dione hanging out on her balcony." "I've got Ronaldo coming out of the ocean." and so forth and so on. At first I thought this was some very subtle form of self-parody but nope, they were serious. A little piece of my soul died when I came to the understanding that not only is celebrity stalking big business, but it's big business because people eat this crap up with a spoon.

So why have I watched it for the last four days?!

I don't know whether this is the aforementioned rotting of my brain or something they put in the Southern California water, but I was watching a segment they did on Khloe Kardashian today and realized that I was watching not out of morbid curiosity, but out some interest in what these camera-toting human mistakes find. I don't even know who Khloe Kardashian is and, up until today, I woudln't be able to recognize her if she kicked down my door wearing a T-shirt that read "Hi! I'm Khloe Kardashian." And still, I watched the segment and the rest of the show. And here's the pisser: if I have the time tomorrow, I'll probably do it all again. Congratulations paparazzi! You have successfully made me a worse person than I was one week ago.

The weird thing about TMZ is that they don't just cover the whores and himbos who make headlines now. Harvey Levin and his ilk are so shameless, they'll track down the has-beens, the never wases, the obscure, and the irrelevant. Last week they did a segment on Steve Nash. Now I like basketball but I don't give half a crap about what Steve Nash is doing. I don't even think the Phoenix Suns care all that much about what Steve Nash is doing. I wonder if they get paid based on the level of celebrity they find, the quality of the video/photo, or some combination of the two. Is a clear photo of Britney Spears worth more than a clear photo of Wanda Sykes? Is shaky, grainy camera phone footage of Christian Bale jogging nude down Rodeo Dr. worth more or less than an HD video of Christian Bale eating a sandwich? How much could you make for a still photo of Kaley Cuoco relative to a perfectly rendered hologram of that chick who played Vicki the Robot on Small Wonder? Why in great Neptune's oceans am I wondering this at all?

I've noticed that many of these "appearances" occur around places where I live or visit, mainly the SFV and the Westside. I haven't seen anybody famous yet. Or maybe I have and just didn't recognize him or stopped to check it out. Of course, when I go out it's for a reason and I'm not one to waste time. But maybe the next time I'm at a bookstore in Studio City or grabbing coffee in Beverly Hills, I'll stick around a little longer. If TMZ has taught me anything it's that you don't have to look for the celebrity, you just have to look for the douchebags waving camera phones around.

Really, this is the best thing about being a writer. If you want to work in show business but want to maintain your anonymity, learn to write. So long as you weren't a stripper before you broke out, nobody will care about what you're doing. If I ever make it, I would love to see TMZ try to run their act with me. Not because I'd punch a camera guy out, but because I will probably maintain the most boring lifestyle around--that is my promise to you. I can see the meeting now:

"I got Eric Duncan picking up a pizza at some crappy-looking hole in the wall in Harvey [Oh, yeah: the second it becomes fiscally and professionally fiesable, I'm hopping on the next thing smoking back to the Midwest. Bicoastal living, FTW!]. He, uh, then went back to his home and ate it. That's about it."
"Who's Eric Duncan again?"
"He's a writer. He did--"
"Just get the fuck out of here. You're fired."

Oh yeah, my mind is definitely gone.

The mask I wear: uncomfortable

Have you ever had one of those days where you just feel like arguing? It's been so long since I've been required to make an articulate point about something and, I have to say, I'm starting to miss it. That's one of the more underrated aspects about college--even though two months after graduation is a bit early to start reminiscing about college. Say what you will about colleges and the kids who inhabit them, but it's a great place to get an intellectual workout. And now that I'm away from it, I'm starting to feel a little out of shape mentally. Some people think that I have an obsession with being right and proving others wrong. Those people are, of course, wrong. But, if you would like to refute that you can, you know, make your argument point.

Am I trying too hard?

Okay, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to run a list of a few quick takes that have been running through my mind. And I am just going to assume that I'm right about all of these assertions until somebody tells me otherwise. So, without any further ado, here is a list of things I know to be true:

• BB Needs to go back to PB&J, household budgets, and first season food competitions.


• Having both Chicago teams in first place is not only good for Major League Baseball, but it's absolutely necessary if they expect people to care about the middle of the regular season


• Firefox is amateurish compared to Opera*


• According to Jim got flat out screwed in this year's Emmy nominations


• The United States should offer a trade to Canada: Ontario for California, West Virginia, cash considerations, and a territory to be named later.


• Ahmahd Rashaad > Jon Kelley


• Movies such as The Incredible Hulk, Hellboy, Spider Man, and, mostly recently, The Dark Night owe their success to the groundbreaking cinematic masterpiece that was Last Action Hero

Okay, now I'm just being shameless. But I can't help it. I feel my rhetorical skills slipping away like so much sand through an hourglass. See, if I were still in school, I would've been able to come up with a metaphor that wasn't a total cliche. And if I were still in school, I would know that that wasn't a metaphor but a simile. My mind is turning to mush and it's not just because I can't argue anymore. More on that later. Right now, I'm going to go look for a Star Trek forum and claim that Sisko could kick both Kirk's and Picard's asses simultaneously.

* - Actually I am experiencing some issues with Firefox, but that's an issue for another post--probably the next post.

The mask I wear: bored

Now that the 18th has come and gone and the movie has finally been released, can society finally be freed from those painfully obnoxious Mamma Mia commercials? I have never had a worse song play through my head--and I've seen all the freecreditreport.com commercials. The seafood restaurant, "I Married My Dream Girl," and, of course, "F-R-E-E, that spells 'free'". The most insidious Madison Av. earworms could not hold a candle to sheer force of bubbly, sickening pap that is ABBA. And I had to suffer through that for months now! And it's not like I could avoid it, either. They ambush you when you least expect it. Watching a rerun of "Yes, Dear"--BOOM, Mamma Mia. Watching a Cubs game--BOOM, Mamma Mia. Stuck in traffic behind a bus--BOOM, Mamma Mia. Everybody associated with that song and that movie--except for Amanda Seyfried--deserves a punch right in the throat.

I know this little rant seem like it comes from out of nowhere but trust me, that felt good. And now that I have that off my chest, I know that I can finally let ya go.

The mask I wear: annoyed

I'm a little disturbed by the AT&T LG commercial. You know, the one where this attractive guy and his ridiculously hot girlfriend are having lunch outside. The girl prattles on about "fashion week" or something and the guy's attention is diverted by two also ridiculously hot girls walking past to the song "Oh Yeah" by Yellow (OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH YEEEEAAAAAH). He turns around to use his phone to take a shot of them, ahem, walking away when he gets a text message from his girlfriend saying "OMG UR A PIG." He turns around to find her shaking her head and rolling her eyes in a "boys will be boys" manner while passing it all off with a helpless smile.

So where were they trying to go with that?

I don't want to use my education to excuse my neurotic tendencies, but as an English major, I am prone to over-interpretation. So let's over-interpret. Are we to believe that the girlfriend, who is a solid California 10--and, by the "fashion week" comment can be considered a model of some sort--is so "ordinary" that she can be overshadowed by a couple of anonymous women walking by to "OOOOOOOOOH YEAH"? Or perhaps the guy, who is also attractive in his own right, would reasonably "trade up" from the aforementioned California 10 to one of the "Oh Yeah" girls. He's already dating one and has the looks to pull it off, so it's not like it's impossible. That's just greed right there. The problem is that the breezy slow-motion and song choice connotes some kind of unattainability. But looking at the guy (and his girlfriend), the viewer knows damn well it's attainable. At that point, it becomes less "boys will be boys" and more teasing that that guy can have whatever he wants.

Either way, as a rather painfully average male, I can't help by feel that the commercial missed the mark with me in every conceivable sense. But I'm a Blackjack guy anyway.

This is why I'm where I am. I can't help but think that I can bring a little common sense to the table to help out the state of our television advertisements. All it takes is one little change to make the LG commercial watchable. I'll even give you a choice of changes. Make the girlfriend a 6 or 7. Depicting a 7's boyfriend leering at a couple of 10s walking by might be insulting to women, but it's at least in the realm of realism. You could also go the popular, if a little passe, "According to Jim" route and turn the guy into an average, possibly pudgy, male with an attractive girlfriend--but not "10" attractive. That way, his leering at two hotties walking past would make sense, but in the comedic "no chance" kind of way. But you have to make sure that the girls walking by are noticeably more "Oh Yeah" than the girl being ignored.

As it stands, the only way this commercial can pass is if they attach an additional 5 seconds in which the guy texts back "I CAN HAZ 4SUM?" Then it would be a little humorous, until the viewer (i.e. me) realizes that, with his suave looks and the girlfriend's implied lack of self-esteem (putting on her makeup, suddenly being undermined by two anonymous passers-by, being a model, etc.), he could probably get it if he wants it. Then we're back to the bitter dissatisfaction.

This painfully in-depth analysis of a commercial has been brought to you by a perfectly sunny holiday weekend wasted in Southern California away from all the people who make celebratory occasions worthwhile. I'm bored! But that's my problem to take care of. You guys have a fun and safe 4th of July Weekend.

EDIT: It has come to my attention, thanks to one jena_with_one_n, that the two main characters from that commercial are cast members of that MTV abomination The Hills. Knowing that, everything actually makes sense. If AT&T had just affixed a disclaimer reminding viewers that they were marketing toward people who watch The Hills, I would've been much less critical. In fact, now that I know that, I'm more inclined to give them credit. You could mass produce a log that reportedly keeps lions away from your house and get a certain number of sells so long as you attach MTV personalities to shill for it.

I am personally ashamed that I didn't do the proper research before running my take. Jena, on the other hand, should be ashamed that she recognized the cast members and, by extension, the true intent of the commercial.

The lesson everybody should take away from this: in the game of advertising, nobody wins.

The mask I wear: dorky
My new favorite song: Kajagoogoo - Take Another View

( I never mentioned this, but yes, I am all up in this new season of The Mole. Back at the turn of the century, it was the most brilliant reality show on the air. It was even better than Boot Camp! So I have a few quick takes after watching last night's episode. )

The mask I wear: awake

I like to think of myself as a sort of "early adopter" of Google. I was doing web searches with Google when people were still using Alta Vista and What-U-Seek. Needless to say I'm quite adept at finding what I'm looking for with the right Google search. Of course, there are some things for which you just can't find the proper search terms. Like if you were looking for information on the rock band Headlice. Good luck avoiding articles about little insects that live to torment small children and their families!

Anyway, that is what I'm struggling with at this moment. I just ordered my third pizza in LA. And while it was the cheapest of the three, it was the second one that had that weird flat sausage you SoCals seem to enjoy putting on your pizzas. Not knowing the proper culinary term for that flat sausage, my choice of search terms was limited. I've tried Pizza "flat sausage", California pizza "flat sausage", "Flat sausage pizza", pizza sausage flat, and so forth an so on. After about six futile text searches, I tried a google image search with the terms California "'sausage pizza" -Kitchen (to eliminate all the results that might be about the California Pizza Kitchen).

And that's when I learned why you always use Safesearch. I saw...things.

I guess it could've been worse. I could have been googling lemon square recipes for a party. I never found out what was up with that flat sausage. I just know that it made for one pretty goddamn awful pizza. And before you guys think this is me being a Chicago snob, I originally chose this place based on a specific (somewhat successful) Google search for New York style pizzas. It even got good reviews from people who were supposedly from New York. To those anonymous reviewers I say: Shame. On. You. Chicago and New York might have their differences. But I like to think that we agree on the necessity of good pizza. And that wasn't it.

The mask I wear: disappointed

The other day I was out making a McDonald's run. Usually when I do that, my only thought is, "Good Lord, Eric, surely you can find something better to eat than McDonald's." But when I passed a Chevron station sporting $4.71/gal gas, I couldn't help but think, "Good Lord, Eric, you're really lucky to be living in Los Angeles right now." And no, I wasn't being sarcastic either. My car is the type that requires premium gas lest some vaguely bad things happen to its engine. So at that Chevron station that means I'd be one-tenth of one penny away from dropping a Lincoln for every gallon of gas I consume.

So why am I lucky to be in LA?

Well, if I were in Chicago, I'd probably be making plans to hang out with my friends. And since they all live in the Northern Suburbs, that means a 40-50 mile trip up 294. And considering how much I love traversing the Chicago freeways, I'd probably pursue all of these trips with too much relish. And that's not even including the other sights and sounds that Chicago has to offer that I have enjoyed solo. Basically, if I stayed at home, I'd be going through more gasoline than an overly ambitious pyromaniac. The good news is that the rather mediocre social life that took four years for me to develop cannot be so easily replicated in SoCal. So all I really need to drive for is food and job prospects. I'm practically living green!

That also gives me a good excuse when friends and family ask me if I've made any friends like I'm some little kid coming back from his first day at kindergarten. Do you know how expensive making friends and maintaining a social life is in today's economy!

In all seriousness, life in the Valley is...well, it could be worse. I had the good luck to be living a block away from Ventura Blvd. which is a major LA thoroughfare with many businesses, shops, resources, an sights that make for a very important commute-less place to live. And even though I'm also a stone's throw away from Van Nuys--and all the creepiness that's involved with that place--I'm just as close to the rather attractive areas of Encino, Studio City, et al. As the old conventional wisdom goes, so long as I say "South of the Boulevard," I'll be good.

Outside of looking for a job, I'm pursuing the UCLA Professional program in screenwriting. They don't cover television writing, but they accept considerably more students than the MFA at a fraction of the price. After a year of that, I will have a better idea where I stand with this whole thing. If I can parlay that experience into an acceptance to an MFA program or, even better, a entry-to-mid-level position in a production company, then I'll be making good strides and feeling more confident about staying. If not, well, we'll worry about that when that happens. It's probably not the best attitude to have, but I'll always be a Chicagoan who needs to commute 1,700 miles for work. I tried to assimilate into Angeleno life, but as soon as I started experiencing the Schadenfreude involved with seeing the Lakers lose the NBA finals (sorry, Laker Fans on my list, but it's gonna happen in the next two days), I knew there was no hope for me. But you guys still have a lovely city. And I'm sure you'll take down your Lakers car flags and moving on to the next fad before the final buzzer.

The mask I wear: awake
My new favorite song: Everything But the Girl - Missing

I'm in love.

Now I know that over the past six years I've made similar declarations that ultimately proved dramatic, overblown, and just plain silly. But hear me out on this.

Over the past few days, in my absolute boredom, I've been researching the last five months of what was the 2008 Presidential Primary process. Unfortunately, I wasn't a good American and only followed the primary since Super Tuesday. So I used to internet to catch up on the adventures of Ron, Fred, Alan, Mike, Mitt, John and all the gang. Well, when I look for information on something, my cyber-travels tend to take me to all kinds of interesting videos, commentaries, and websites. Of course, the primary is over. None of what I found is really relevant anymore except to serve as a time waster between me looking for a job and me sulking because I don't have a job. But I'm glad I wasted my time that way because I ran across a youtube video that had none other than my new love, my new proof of true beauty and goodness in this world:



Meet Marta Costello. She hosts a youtube series called "The Gnooze" (the G is silent). She possesses everything that you look for in a news anchor: the sense of humor that you get from a Daily Show/Colbert Report, the unapologetic eye candy that you get from the FOX Business Channel, actual recognition of current events not unlike what you see on MSNBC, and the gratuitously flashy and artificial set of CNN's Situation Room. The best part is she hasn't actually been corrupted by the 24-hour cable news networks! She's exclusive to those of us who have merely stumbled upon those internet videos.

And, because it bears repeating: she's so so pretty.

You guys don't believe me, do you? You've been jaded by my past bloggings. You don't think I'm actually in love Well...you're right. Love still alludes me. But I have never been happier to see somebody I didn't know since a certain little redheaded movie star turned coked out attention whore. Sigh, and sigh again.

The mask I wear: bouncy

I've exhausted many of my friends' ears worrying about the many bag things that entail moving to Los Angeles. So I can afford to be more positive. Here's a really good thing that comes with leaving Chicago to move to SoCal:

After 15 long years, I think I'll finally be able to break my pizza habit. And I think that'll happen pretty quick. And I'm much too picky to replace it with something like a Mexican food habit. I think it'll be much easier walking around with that monkey off my back!

I went to Best Buy Monday to buy a TV. It's a pretty sweet machine: 37" flat screen, LCD, sale price, best thing ever. The guy "assisting" me, on the other hand, couldn't seem any less interested in what was going on. I went up and asked for that particular TV and he just looked at me. I had to actually nudge him into the direction of the back of the store to get it. I guess saying that I wanted that specific TV wasn't enough of a clue that I wanted it now. But it's okay. He got on the ball, got the TV, and rung it up. But I also had a memory stick I wanted to buy. So before I paid, I asked him to ring that up as well. He did, I paid, and he started to help me move the TV to my car. But first I had to stop him to ask that he put the memory stick in a bag first. He did and we were on our way out of the store. On the way out, I passed that little stolen merchandise beeper, which beeped as I passed through. I looked back at him and he was just standing with the TV a couple of feet behind me talking to the security guy about something. I stood there as that stupid detector beeped for about 30 seconds before I just figured he knew what he was doing and I was okay. So I left the store, he put the TV in my car, and I went back home with one less errand to do.

Today I finally got around to wanting to use my camera, so I took the memory stick out of the bag only to be greeted by a less than pleasant surprise:

The genius never took it out of that protective plastic box!

No doubt this little situation is the result of some absent-mindedness on my part as well. But for god's sake, he rung it up, watched me paid for it, and put it in a bag! It didn't occur to him that he might want to use his little Magic Retail Employee Wand to open up that bullet-proof Popemobile casing? Sorry that my desire to buy an item at a store proved too much of a hassle for you to do things the right way.

So now I have to go back tomorrow and try to convince customer service to open up an item for me that I didn't steal. Fortunately, I still have my receipt so the conversation shouldn't be too painful. I'm just a little irritated by the sense of apathy that was radiating from this glorified toll-taker, the same apathy that forces me to make one more trip when I would love to have one day where I can just relax and settle into LA. Thanks a lot, jerk!

The mask I wear: annoyed

I'm worried.

It's bad enough that I've been so preoccupied with apartment business that I haven't been able to keep up with the NBA playoffs, let alone when the draft lottery would be held. I had to hear about it on the 101 when I, completely by chance might I add, was listening to ESPN radio and Mike Torico and Hubie Brown were acting like the Bulls did something good. Turns out that the lottery was today and those guys from the West side won the damn thing! By god, if traffic on the freeway weren't at a perpetual crawl, I might have done some damage.

(Just kidding, I'm always an excellent driver, even in a state of joy)

So why am I worried? Well, a little more than one day after I leave for California, the Bulls actually won something big. Lemme repeat that: one day after I leave the state, something good happened.

Could I...could I...could I be cursed...cursed!? So help me, if the Cubs win the world series this October, I might have to rethink my place in my home city.

(And Rachel, if you just so happen to be stalking me, I'm just kidding again: you know I'll be celebrating right here in SoCal if the Cubs defy 100-years of destinfail.)

Speaking of great things to come out of Chicago, happy birthday to my buddy femme_dramatica. Too bad we never got a chance to hang out before I left but make sure the city (in particular the South suburbs) are still awesome when I return.