Entries from September 2005 ↓

I just opened up a bottle of cabernet to go with the fresh marlin the boyfriend picked up at the farmer’s market. I cut the foil presicely along the lip and centered the screw dead in the middle of the cork. I gave it four hard twists and slid out the red-kissed cork without making a sound.

And for a split second, just a fraction of a moment, I missed waiting tables.

Look at that I took the week off.

• She’s incredibly affectionate. She likes to lie in our laps. Or stand on us while we lie in the floor. She is as sweet as she wants to be. (I wrote this last night on the couch and had to use just one hand because if I stopped petting her she grumbled and pushed her head into me.
• Girlfriend’s vagina is an outtie.
• She is very much like a cat. I was on the couch and my sister was sitting in the floor when Tootie jumped up over the back of the couch. That is like four and half feet. She didn’t even get a starting run, because we heard nothing until we heard the digging of her claws into the back of the sofa. Amy was facing her and said she had a look of sheer terror on her face.
• She likes to dig. They told us that when we adopted her. "Likes to dig. Hates cows." (It was written in three different places–"Doesn’t do well with livestock.") They didn’t lie about the the digging part. In her sleep she, out of nowhere, just starting digging as hard and as fast as she could on the back cushion. There are now two big gashes in the fabric. Good thing I hate this couch and am dumping it as soon as possible. (We’ll be sure to let you know what happens if we ever happen across a field of cattle.
• The bitch snores. The shitty couch is her domain. We come in from outside and she straight hits the sofa.
• She’s a snuggler. She loves to spoon. Or she’ll shove her head between my leg and the arm of the couch and just snooze. She loves to sleep spread eagle. No wonder she got knocked up, what with the outtie vagina to boot.
• The boyfriend said she saw a rabbit on her last pee trip outside last night, and she took off like rocket. We weren’t sure if she would do anything but lie around, but she darted after the rabbit who cleverly found its way through a small opening in the fence. Tootie, not so clever, followed suit and got her head stuck in the fence.
• Have I mentioned she sleeps all the time?
• She likes the hedgehog we bought her, but not the squeaky bit inside.
• She pees and poops outside no problem. She doesn’t jump up when you ask her not to. She rarely barks. Her only problem is wanting on our bed. The boyfriend says this isn’t a good practice baby and that we have to get another dog.
• We put her outside when we are eating and she’s totally cool with it. She can’t stand to not be touched when she’s inside, but I left her alone today for the first time and she was fine.
• She has a fluffy, curly tail and short hair. She stands like a pointer with her front paw lifted. We’re thinking pointer and golden retriever mix.
• She’s not so fond of the bath. She dealt with it but you could see the disdain in her eyes.

Our new dog has done nothing but sleep since we brought her home. Mostly on her back with her legs spread wide apart. The boyfriend thinks we should take her back, tell them we got a broken one.

Too bad he’s all in love with her already and can’t stop kissing on her. They are snuggled up on the couch right now watching Meet the Press.

Click the picture for more.

I am lazy and apathetic about many things. I put off the simplest of chores and am often caught without anything to write on. I’m a writer. I’ll have eight or nine pens in my bag (I don’t have a pen that I use all the time. I haven’t found a pen I’ve wanted to commit to just yet.), but not a single sheet of paper or a notecard.

But I always have stamps. You can count on it. When I get down to two or three stamps I make a special stop at the post office and by a new pack from the machine. It’s cost under eight dollars. But it makes me feel responsible and prepared and ready to mail anything. I even buy the one cent stamps for odd sized letters or postcards.

I don’t even do that much mailing. A packet of stamps lasts six months or longer. But I love having them, keeping them in that same pocket, always knowing that they are there when I start to address that envelope.

I don’t think I would ever collect stamps, but I do enjoy them. I very much liked it when you had to lick them. I never thought it tasted bad. Only when you licked in bulk did it get kinda nasty. I liked the perforation, it was like a tiny little frame. I would always try to line it up just right. The sticky ones are too easy. But I do like peeling them off of their super-slick backing. They are quality stickers that, for some reason, are pleasing to adhere to an envelope.

I always liked getting the mail when I was younger, before the bills and student loan letters. I would wait for it inside the house, peeking out the window through the curtains. And it wasn’t like I ever got anything. On a rare occasion something would have my name tacked onto it. I think I just liked the consistency of the mailman. When the mailman came it was a confirmation of sorts. Of what I’m still not sure.

I just mailed off two bills. Filled out the change of address box with a rollerball pen that bleeds just a bit too much for my taste. Still I found satisfaction in sliding the torn portion of the bill snugly into the provided envelope with see-thru window. And pulling out my stamp pack, finding it there where I knew it would be. For 74 cents I get a little thrill. The mail kicks ass.

• No puppy yet. This weekend I think.
• Mates of State is my new favorite band. I sing, "AND WHERE’S MY ARM?," all day in my head.
• My mother bought the boyfriend and I a 5-piece dining set and a new coffee table. How do you say thank you for gifts that big? The table is nice, cherry finish and black padded chairs. We hope the dark woooden table will be a nice contrast to our medium brown hardwood floors. (If not, we’ll get a large rug.) Best of all the table has a pistol drawer at the head of it. It’ll be delivered in a week or two.
• I’m really excited about "The Biggest Loser" coming back on. But not as much as "Lost." Everything else? Eh, not so much.
• The boyfriend has mowed the grass twice since we moved in a week ago.
• Autumn is just around the corner, and I feel like I live in a new city. I got my GED in VJ training (Good Enough Diploma). A new house. With a puppy on the way. And two new tables and padded chairs to match my padded ass. Life is good.
• I can’t wait to take pictures of my new neighborhood. The bars on the windows will make for a nice foreground/background photo. Heh.

Okay, here it is. My first ever t.v. news piece. Please overlook my unsteady hand and the out of focus faces.

Training has gotten better. Considerably so. I was held back in class and given some one-on-one attention. That helped immensely. I actually completed a one minute piece that hasn’t a single jump cut and, I have to admit, is kinda good. For a beginner anyway.

I think the trainers can help me compress the video. Maybe I can post it later today.

Oh, and internet access happens today at the new house (WHICH I LOVE). The boyfriend and I actually talk to each other when there is no internet access. And we can’t have that.

I have fourteen minutes to tell you how VJ training is going. Class begins at 9 o’ clock.

Yesterday I cried. That’s right, broke down in tears right there in front of the trainers and my other three classmates. How about that shit? I later asked the trainer who made me cry if that had ever happened before. It never had.

You see, my first day of shooting was sort of abysmal. I went out thinking I had my head wrapped around what I was supposed to do, but I was all wrong. I came back with seven minutes of footage when they asked for twenty. Except I don’t remember that part. I think I must have been in the bathroom. I made the best of that footage with the editing software (which is easy to use and fun) and was kind of proud of the crappy one minute piece I produced. Especially since I had never done any of that before. After the trainer watched the finished product I looked at his face and it was pitiful. He was shocked by the badness of what he’d seen and was trying to come up with anything constructive to say.

"Pitiful, isn’t it?," I said. "Yes, it’s pitiful," he replied.

But I went home excited. I had learned so much. I went home and thought up great people for my profile the next day. All of whom turned out to be off, indisposed or in Atlanta.

So at the last minute I thought I’d shoot a barista. Making coffee can make pretty pictures, so I barged into Portland Brew and asked this girl if I could basically get in her way and piss her off.

See, I don’t like bothering people. I certainly don’t like making them feel uncomfortable. And our trainers say DNZTFC (Do Not Zoom The Fucking Camera), because it makes shakey hands more evident. So they want you to get all right up in people’s grill and shit. And I just can’t do that.

When I write it can involve as little as a pencil and a piece of paper. I’ve never had to worry about whether the microphone is on or if I have a tape in the camera (had to drive back to the station once). I can barely hook up a DVD player, so you can imagine how I look with this camera in my hand. I hold it like it is covered in poo. Which is to say very carefully. Anyway, my mind is on a hundred different elements or technical glitches and all those rules from class and trying to get any sort of story goes right out the window. It is so overwhelming.

So I get back with my barista footage and I’m pretty pleased. At least I got the requisite 20 minutes this time. I pruned it to what I thought was a much improved 1 minute 20 second piece. I went to pee while I let the trainer look it over.

I came back to hear, "Well, it is almost exclusively jump cuts." What?! No way! I know what a jump cut is and those ain’t it! I mean, sure the first day I had jump cuts because I didn’t have enough material, but those are not jump cuts! I thought all of that in my head.

But apparently you can have a medium shot of someone in Canada then a medium shot of someone in Mexico and that is considered a jump cut. Who knew?! So I didn’t have good closeups or POV shots (point-of-view) because a) I hate being pushy and b) I’m not tall enough to get over someone’s shoulder. I am afraid I am going to drop that many thousand dollar camera.

The trainer suggested I go out and shoot new footage and start over. At 6 pm. That is when the tears came. I couldn’t help it. My eyes just got hot and wet all the sudden and eventually I had to blink and so the tears came. I just couldn’t take the thought of all that hard work wasted. I’m not used to busting my ass on something and STILL it sucks.

Lights are on in the classroom. Gotta go. Oh God.