|
|
Living Life at the Speed of Squee
|
|
|
|
[16 Nov 2009|10:38am] |
OH MY GOD. Why do all my friends have jobs? D: I need advice and I need it now, PLEASE. Anyone who has my phone # can call, or you can comment on the post, or IM me.
PLEASE.
I got a request for an interview in NYC, and due to a slight miscommunication, I think the interviewer believes I live nearby, i.e. in driving distance of the metro area. I need to figure this out ASAP, because oh my GOD, do I want this job, you have NO IDEA.
HELP.
|
|
| LJ Idol Topic 3: Smile |
[06 Nov 2009|12:44pm] |
Smiling comes naturally to me, more than almost anything else.
I smile when I'm happy; I grin when I'm nervous. I laugh when I have to pass along sad news, not because I'm happy but because I'm so uncomfortable.
I had a smile I tried to hide the first time I quit a job. "I'm going to have to move on," I said, wanting all the time to burst out in a full-fledged grin.
I laughed when I broke up with my cheating ex for the last time. "Are you serious? You think *I'm* to blame?" I couldn't help the case of the giggles I came down with. I smile every time I think about her now, and all the things she taught me...to avoid.
I've always thought I get my smile from my dad--after all, he's the source of my twisted sense of humor, so it makes sense that my toothy grin comes from him. He's been gone for a year and a half now, but every time I think of him, I look up, smile, and blow him a kiss. It still hurts, but it's impossible to cry for long when I'm smiling up at him, hoping he's at peace.
I have, on occasion, fallen in love with someone based simply on their smile. My first girlfriend was ten years older than I, lived a thousand miles away and was a complete and utter nutjob (bless her heart). Yet the instant we met, when she flashed me a smile, I was hooked.
I did a little math. I was a pretty happy baby, and despite some childhood issues, I was a fairly content kid. So if we assume I've smiled at least five times a day, on average, that means my smile-o-meter reads about 56,000. My smile's been around the block, it seems.
Things Which Make Me Smile, In No Particular Order:
~ Christmas music in November
~ taquitos
~ Disney World
~ babies who 'talk' to me
~ staying in my pajamas all day
~ writing
~ fan mail
~ falling in love
~ learning how to win at Tic-Tac-Toe
~ IHOP at 2 AM
~ watching other people falling in love
~ getting a new idea for a novel
~ hot cocoa
~ a goosedown comforter
~ New York City
Babies are the best smilers, because they have no pretensions. They can't fake a smile to pretend they like your new haircut. They won't laugh genteely to spare your feelings when you tell a bad joke. If you tickle their tummies just right, you're rewarded with a huge, toothless grin, and you know you've done something right in this world. My niece's smile lights up my heart every time I see it, and I know that nothing else will ever make me feel the way I do when she looks right at me, smiles, and laughs.
 
|
|
| The stupid, it burns... |
[31 Oct 2009|03:00pm] |
I realize that the decision to accept or reject a commercial lies with the higher-ups at the network, and the decision about where (day, time, etc.) to place them is often made by people who don't watch the shows aired on said network. However...
I can't decide if it's irony or stupidity to have a commercial for a Bose stereo surround sound system playing during a television show whose central character IS PROFOUNDLY DEAF.
|
|
| LJ Idol Topic 2: Uphill, both ways, barefoot |
[30 Oct 2009|12:27pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 cheerful |
] |
I am an official Curmedgeon. I'm not quite sure when it happened, but ever since my 30th birthday, I've been sliding slowly downhill. Music is suddenly too loud. Kids are suddenly crossing my lawn without permission. And print is becoming smaller.
I've started telling stories to little children, that start with "When I was your age..." and usually end with "You don't know how good you have it."
"When I was your age, I didn't have an iPod. I didn't even have a Walkman. *pause to explain what a Walkman is* *another pause to explain what a cassette tape is*
I feel bad for the current generation...with mp3s and downloads, they'll never know the intense joy and torture of waiting for your favorite song to come on the radio, just so you could scream 'SHUT UP, I'M TRYING TO RECORD THIS!' and hit play+record on your hot pink tape recorder, which is sitting in front of the stereo to pick up a bootleg of 'True Blue'. And then you end up with your mom screaming 'WHAT?' in the middle but you hold on to that little formerly-blank Memorex for ten years because you can't afford the actual Madonna cassette, which is all of $5.99. This generation won't remember winding cassettes back up when the tape player tried to eat them, or VHS tapes.
There's so much they'll miss out on, you know? The comedian Sinbad talks about his childhood, when you had to drive around the block and wait for your favorite song to come back around on the 8-track. He thought we'd gotten spoiled with our fast-forward and rewind. Now look at us...instant everything. I'm not saying our generation was better, don't get me wrong. I love all this technological shit. I can't imagine how we lived without Facebook and cell phones. But, do kids still play M.A.S.H., or are they too busy instant messaging their friends? Do they practice doing dances on the playground, like we Vogued, or are they texting during recess? And for the record, Gen Whatever-the-Hell-Letter-You-Are, we didn't have "sexting" in my day. If you wanted to get down with someone, you had to actually be in the same room. Shocking.
Somewhere along the way, I'd forgotten the magic of the eighties. We had people like Phil Collins, singing songs we couldn't understand, like "Sussidio". I still have no effin' clue what it means, but by God, you could dance to it! We had idols like Paula Abdul and pre-slutty Madonna. Beat that, Generation Text. Sure, we only had rudimentary video games and no internet, but we had ANTHEMS, yo. We had "We Built This City" and "Cold-Hearted Snake". You have "Hit Me Baby One More Time" and "I Wanna F**k You". (No offense to Akon, I adore him, but it's not exactly Jefferson Starship.)
Our generation gave rise to boy bands and made them household names. We encouraged the gestation of punk music and embraced alternative sounds. I remember a time when I liked heavy metal, acid rock, classic rock, pop and adult contemporary all at once, and didn't see anything wrong with it. Yeah, we're the "Me" generation (or is that the one before us? I can never keep track), but that's because we were all about self-expression. I firmly believe that at least half my passion and love of life can be attributed to the era in which I grew up. I had Punky Brewster to teach me how to stand up for myself, and He-Man and She-Ra to show me that being gay wasn't a crime (come on, you know you thought it, too!). Our generation had COLOR and SPICE! And the power of the eighties is in its endurance. People still love "Flashdance" and "Fame". We still sing "Love is a Battlefield" as loud as we can. And say what you will about the fashion, it'll come back around. Good legwarmers never die! And if you're keeping track, you'll notice that they're remaking all the classic 80s movies and reviving the plays. John Hughes may have passed, may his soul rest in peace, but his movies influenced an entire generation of kids.
This generation, the one growing up now, is in for a life of relative ease. They'll probably never have to beg their parents to be allowed to stay up late to watch their favorite pop star on television, as most homes will have a DVR. They'll be able to carry their music around with them on mp3 players, and they may never have to face the heartache of a shared phone line, as cells become cheaper and more practical.
But they also might never cover their hearts and gasp with delight when they hear a certain song, crying out, "Oh, God, I remember the first time I heard this on the radio! I was doing my nails with Bonnie Bell polish (or 'driving my force of GI Joes up Skull Mountain for an ambush' if you were like me) and it was instantly my favorite."
I beg of you, fellow members of my generation, don't let the color die with you. Pass it on to the kids in your life. Play your music for them, teach them about Rainbow Brite and the Color Kids, and tell them about Betamax and vinyl records, cassette tapes and jelly shoes. Fill their lives with COLOR and SPICE! I'll do my part.
I wear my sunglasses at night and I'm a material girl. How 'bout you?
|
|
| LJ Idol Topic 1: Empty Gestures |
[20 Oct 2009|07:44pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 contemplative |
] |
I don't generally believe in empty gestures. If I say "I'm sorry", I mean it. If I offer to do you a favor, it's because I want to, not because I believe I'm supposed to. Sure, I've offered the occasional "Aw, that sucks" when I really can't empathize with someone's distress, but beneath that is a genuine layer of concern for their well-being. No, for most things, I believe in saying what you mean, and meaning what you say (and do). My empty gesture of choice, however, is the shrug. I've perfected the nonchalant, nothing's bothering me now let it go lift and drop of my shoulders. I can be boiling mad inside and still, you'll get the slightest shrug of my shoulders and nothing more.
I never used to be this cool--oh, no. When I was a teenager, the slightest provocation sent me into a passionate frenzy. I'd fight to the virtual death to prove I was right, and I spent a lot of my time seeing red, sometimes literally, so blazingly angry that I wasn't being taken seriously. Life got a lot easier when I realized that people take you much more seriously when you're not shouting at the top of your voice ALL. THE. TIME. ABOUT. EVERY. LITTLE. THING.
I still do my share of arguing, but I've learned the fine art of arguing productively, and I definitely know how to choose my battles now. So when I casually mention how it's ridiculous that drug companies double or triple the markup on malaria-fighting drugs before sending them overseas, and my aunt rolls her eyes and snorts condescendingly, "Where did you read THAT?", as if my newspaper of choice were the Tinfoil Hat Weekly, I manage to restrain myself from arguing with her until I'm purple in the face. I know she won't acknowledge the answer, anyway; like so many people, if it doesn't fit in with her narrow vision of the world, it doesn't exist. So I simply let my shoulders do the talking. I give a little shrug and put my headphones in my ears.
Sometimes an empty gesture is full of meaning.
|
|
| LJ Idol Topic 0: Introduction |
[08 Oct 2009|04:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
cheerful |
] |
Introductions are always so awkward, aren't they? Unless you have someone to smooth the way ("Jennifer, this is Cal. He's my lab partner. Cal, Jennifer is my mother's sister's cousin's dog's former wife. But you're both fans of Dr. Who, so you have lots in common. Discuss!"), you always kind of stand there, staring at the other person and nodding politely, wondering if you have spinach in your teeth or if your hair has one of those annoying little lumps in it even though you tried so damn hard to make it lie flat when you were brushing it that morning.
But since I don't have anyone to smooth the way, I'll just jump right in.
Just the FAQs
NAME: Nicole B. After 20 years of school, during which I was never the only Nicole in the class, I often still sign things as "Nicole B.".
RANK: Age 30. Still not where I'd planned to be at this age, but I'm finding as I go along that more and more of my friends say the same thing. (Even the one with a PhD, and if a bleepin' doctor doesn't have a lock on things, who am I to buck the trend?)
SERIAL KILLER: No. But I am fascinated by them. My goal at one time was to be a profiler for the FBI.
I like big butts and I cannot lie.
No, wait.
I like to move it, move it.
Hm. Still not right.
I like criminology, crappy TV movies, MST3K and proper grammar.
I hate commercials where snotty children get rewarded for talking back to their parents, people who don't know when to use you're vs. your and the fact that no matter how tight I close my eyes and no matter how hard I click my heels, this still isn't Oz.
|
|
|
[05 Oct 2009|10:56am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 nervous |
] |
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) blueashke made me do it! This is my official entry to declare myself IN LIKE FLYNN for the sixth season of LJ Idol. Wish me luck?
PS. Who the heck is Flynn?
|
|
| "Are you crazy? That's a three-waffle drive!" |
[08 Apr 2009|08:00pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 amused |
] |
I'm watching Bolt and I can't handle how adorable these animals are. They're making their way cross-country using a map marked with the location of Waffle Houses (a WH placemat). "I'm not giving up now. We're ONE. WAFFLE. away from her!"
From now on, I shall measure all trips in how many waffles it takes to get there.
|
|
| OFFICIAL VACATION SUMMARY...SQUEEING AHEAD! |
[02 Apr 2009|02:40pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 exhausted |
] |
Oh. My. God. This trip has been unreal, in both the good and the bad sense of that phrase. Since I can't really have one without the other, I'm just going to go in chronological order. Whoever gets through this gets a cookie. (Feel free to get up for bathroom breaks in between, I had to while writing it.)
( Thursday - Arriving: AKA, the day from Hades )
( Friday - If You Like Pina Coladas and Getting Caught In the Rain )
[[Pictures: Dawn in the city, and Central Park]]
[[Pictures: Wicked stagedoor]]
SPECIAL NOTE TO lfae: I got the new Wicked program that has all the productions in it, and the Australian cast are soooo cute. Just thought you should know. When I was sitting in the theatre flipping through it, I was giggling with the girl behind me that now I could see exactly who you were talking about when you raved. (Well, about the original cast, anyway.)
( Saturday - I'm So Excited, I Can't Feel My Toes )
[[Pictures: Idina's concert, meet-and-greet and standing in the rain]]
( Sunday - Opening Night Jitters )
[[Pictures: Midtown, Times Square, dusk in the city]]
[[Pictures: Guys and Dolls, Irena's Vow opening night]]
( Monday - I Managed Not To Inquire About 'Tiny Arceli' )
[[Pictures: Greenwich Village, Central Park, Happiness opening night]]
( Tuesday - Tuesdays Are All Right For Flying )
Summary
Total shows/concerts seen: 4
Total celebrities seen/met: 13
Total hours of sleep over 5 nights: 20
Total un-loseable items/places lost: 3
Total un-loseable items/places found: 2
Total souvenirs sacrificed to the City Gods: 2
Total hours spent waiting in the cold and/or rain: 9
Total score: 100% NEW YORK FUCKIN' CITY!
|
|
| A Conversation With Myself |
[05 Mar 2009|11:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 crazy |
] |
"Gee, Nicole, for only $170 extra, you could go see Idina in Wilmington, Delaware the night before you see her in NYC."
"..."
"Gee, Nicole, why don't you SHUT THE FUCK UP."
|
|
|
[03 Mar 2009|06:21pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 thankful |
] |
I'm going to meet Idina Menzel.
I'm going to meet Idina Menzel.
Maybe if I say it a few more times, it'll feel real.
I'M GOING TO MEET IDINA MENZEL.
...
Nope, still shaking.
|
|
| Fanfic: Private Practice - "Breaching the Keep" 1/1 |
[22 Feb 2009|01:12pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 giddy |
] |
UGH. Yeah, I so needed a new fandom. *rolls eyes* But (un?)fortunately, "Private Practice" sucked me in a few months ago, and Cooper/Charlotte is my OTP. (See evidence here.) It's something about the snark that I adore, plus hawtsex, plus will-they-or-won't-they?! drama. Also, when a male character can say "You're mine," and I melt, that's a sure sign I'm in trouble. And when I saw their last scene in this week's episode, I had to post-ep it. It was just GORGEOUS. (If you don't already watch PP, y'should. There's lots of pretty. Oh, and some kind of ... I dunno, medical drama or something? w/e. There's pretty!)
WARNING--HEREIN LIES SMUT. If your spouse is out of town, you're out of batteries and/or your hands are both broken, you might not want to click the link. I can't be held responsible if you do.
( My first PP fic. )
I'll probably cross-post to the PP fanfic comms as soon as I feel comfortable over there, and an R version to The Pit.
|
|
| Maya |
[30 Jan 2008|07:53pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 crushed |
] |
I'm heading out with Krisha in a couple of minutes to put my older cat to sleep. Maya is twenty years old; we've had her since she was about five. She's lived with my aunt while I've been moving around like a gypsy, and the two old biddies have become quite attached to each other. I'm not sure how Aunt Joan's going to take it, but we've agreed it's time to let her go. The vet thinks she's in renal failure, and she's clearly in a lot of pain, wandering the house mewing (and this is a cat who hardly ever speaks).
Sebastian's going to be so confused when she doesn't come home.
I hate saying goodbye.
|
|
| Comment to be friended |
[01 Jan 2000|01:01am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 complacent |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
"If You're Not The One" - Daniel Bedingfield |
] |
This journal is friends-only, but I love making new friends, so just drop me a comment.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
|
|
|
|
creative![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}