Lunch fell through. Alas. The Japanese joint I frequent usually tops out at about $20 per person and I have to be honest with myself; until I rake in that first paycheck, I can't even afford to buy a pack of smokes every two days, let alone splurge on food.

So I had oatmeal instead. It was highly inferior. Woe.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering about sordid office affairs. I used to joke with my friend Jeremy about being his secretary and slinking into his office only to have him take me on his desk, his name-plate imprinting his name into my ass, business cards flying, sticking to our sweaty bodies... it's hilarious in my head.

But there will be none of that. I love my boy. Besides, why would I settle for an inferior product? No one will ever match up to him sack-wise. He is the Japanese food to their oatmeal.

My parents are leaving for seven days tomorrow morning. Now, if only my sister would choke on prozac and die, maybe I could finally get some peace.

Fantastic.

Finally heard back from them yesterday, four days after they were supposed to call me. Apparently they were in the middle of a hiring freeze.

The first call was "We like you but we're in a hiring freeze right now; can we call you when it's over?"

Second call was, "Nevermind. We talked about it and we want to hire you now."

Because, you understand, I'm pimp like that.

I go in on Tuesday morning to fill out some paperwork and get started.

Is it pathetic and utterly girlie that the main reason I'm excited about this job is because it means I can finally go clothes shopping again? All I want are cute skirts and heels. Fuck being a grown-up and learning responsibility; I want a black & white flared skirt and blue pointy-toe snakeskin stilettos.

And a blazer. I want a cute blazer.

I want to go shoppies. Who wants to go with me? I have gift cards.

Allergies?

Either I developed yet another new eye-related allergy or something crawled into my bed last night and made intimate with my left eye. The lid is slightly swollen all along the lash-line, so when I stare straight ahead I have the look of a drug-addled miscreant.


Oh yes, I'd hire me.

Here's Hoping :)

I finally talked to Phone Tag Lady. She'd been out of town at a conference which is why she hadn't returned my calls. Totally understandable. The position I'd applied for had been filled, but she offered me another position (Which I was considering applying for anyway) which seems to be a better position which means (Maybe) more money :)

I have an interview Monday at 10:00am. Wish me luck!

Housesitting.

I'm still playing phone tag with the lady who rang me about the job. Since Friday. She called me Friday. Voicemail. I called her Saturday. Voicemail. She called me this morning. Voicemail. I called her about 45 minutes ago. Voicemail.

I mean, really. Come now. I would like this job, thank you. I'll answer the phone if you will!

So Jesse and I are housesitting for a couple that he is friends with. They were married in February and just now finally got the chance to take their honeymoon, so we get so lounge around in their place (And eat their food and steal their AC and make naughty in their living room) for ten days.

Fortunately, their cat Zeus is allowing us to stay.

It's nice. It's nice to be away from family. It's nice to have some peace and quiet for awhile.

Jobbish Stuff pt. 2

Huh. They called me back already (Left a voicemail, because I don't pick up the phone for numbers I don't know). The lady sounded nice enough. She actually sounded interested to hear from me. She might... want to give me a job.

Give me a job. O_o

...

now i'm scared to call back! *flappy hands*

Job searching.

I just applied for a job. Yeah, big deal right?

Well you see, it really is, seeing as the last time I applied for a job was at this wanky Halloween store when I was 16. That was, well, um, a decade ago. I like to think I'm growing as a person.

This job is right up my alley and it's something I'd really like to get. It seems a good place to get my sheltered and afraid-of-life feet wet. Just an entry-level position maintaining a website for a plastic surgery clinic right down the street from my house. My only worry is the fact that the Monster.com entry listing was dated almost two months ago. I don't know if they may have already filled the position and just not taken the inquery down yet... but I hope not. Maybe no one else wants it and my application will be like a shining becon of love and light to them.

Maybe I can get lipo instead of a holiday bonus.

I'm back.

Yeah, I knew I'd be back someday.

Turns out that being broke means you have to give up silly things like domains that you never really used for anything other than webcam picture storage and a pathetic attempt at a blog (Yes! Hi!).

So, four-am.com will be no more as of mid-July.

It's heart-breaking, really. That webspace has been mine for five years. Five years. That's a long time. I literally feel sick to my stomach at the idea of someone buying it out and turning it into some skanky porn site or something.

I miss it already.

Okay, this blog is now closed. I've moved my main blog back over to my domain, so... see you there!

*smooches*

Just FYI for everyone:

I'm going to be integrating my blog back in with my domain fairly soon, so keep an eye out :)

I live, and yet still excel at being the most singularly boring person in existence to believe their life actually blog-worthy.

It's 4:00am. It's nights like this that I named my domain after. Yawn. I think I'll stay up all night reading Harry Potter fan fiction.

Please don't judge me.

Today is the beginning of the end.

The beginning of the "holiday season"; those six wretched weeks of torture. The holidays are utter crap if you're unemployed and prone to fits of guilt when people get you things.

Re: Above.
See: Me.

I hate Thanksgiving. We don't give thanks for anything. It's just an excuse for my family to get together, eat a boring meal, and talk about nonsensical crap that no one cares about. The meal hasn't changed one iota since my great-grandfather died. Every year we have two turkey breasts (my great-grandpa and I were the only ones in the family that liked dark meat, so since he died, I have to try and choke down dry white meat turkey), canned green-bean casserole, over-onioned baked beans that only two people eat, canned cranberry sauce (yeah, you know, the Jello-y stuff, unless my aunt is feeling compelled to cook a couple cranberries, but the way things are going, I don't think I'll be that lucky this year), mashed potatoes (cold), baked stuffing (usually dry), and a sad veggie tray. Desert is always the same thing as well: Your choice of pie from Marie Calendars; pumpkin, chocolate, or coconut cream. That's it, end of story.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love my family... they're just so. fucking. lazy. and terrified to try new things. I'm thinking of taking over Thanksgiving dinner next year. This madness has got to end.

As for Christmas, well... I could buy Christmas gifts for people, but why? I don't know what people want, and to be honest, if no one got me anything, I wouldn't cry about it. I hate gifts. I just do. The idea of giving and receiving gifts because it's expected just sits badly with me; it always has. Every year, I beg my parents not to get me anything, but they always insist. "It makes us happy." Well, happy to oblige, you sadists. Gifts should be given when a person feels the desire, not the obligation.

I just really dislike the holidays. I'm terribly jealous of the people who love the holiday season. I want to wear stupid Christmas sweater and drink eggnog and be flushed and sing carols too, damnit. Instead, I get this -->

Scroogey McScroogerton.

Meh. Happy Holidays.

Just testing this blog's LiveJournal syndication for my own edification. Thank you, Siria! Smooches!

Yay for winter fruits!

I love persimmons. They are such an acquired taste. They have a scent that lies somewhere between old socks and moldy underwear.

...

(You guys have to hate me. Why do you read this blog? I am so vulgar.)

Anyway. Moving on.

So, there's this woman – Mrs. Woo – that works with my mother, and Mrs. Woo loads my mother up with persimmons every years. I love Mrs. Woo, though I have never met her. But I love her, for she brings the persimmons. She grows Jiro persimmons, and this year they were huge, but alas, not as many as in the previous years before.

I only have four left, and my heart is sad.

The guavas were given to us by another family friend, but I feel we've been had. I keep reading that they continue to ripen off the tree but... no? Not so much? They're still just as icky and puckery as they were two weeks ago when we got them, and not at all nice and pink and faintly strawberry-ish like they should be. I am so guava-gipped.


Breakfast: Two persimmons, one guava & toast with raspberry preserves.

Last night, Sarah gave me a cell phone.

Now before you think, "Aw, how sweet!" No, no – this was not out of the kindness of her heart, this was because she owes me $110 and she's doing everything in her power to avoid giving me cash. A few weeks ago, she tried to fob off a $50 Old Navy gift card on me. As much as I love Old Navy, I love cash more.

I almost refused the phone, but then it occurred to me that I actually need a cell phone. So here I am, 26 years old and my sister has just taken my cell phone virginity.

It's a cute little phone. Verizon. Takes pictures, plays songs, has an Internet connection and junk. Only thing that sucks is that she had originally purchased the phone for her boyfriend, but apparently he "hasn't been behaving" lately, so she didn't want to give it to him, so all but two of the free music credits had already been used downloading music/ring tones for him. Her boyfriend and I don't exactly have the same taste in music. Heh.

But other than that, it's neat, even if it does have one of those hideously annoying leather phone condoms that I hate. I'm sure I'll obsess over it for the next few weeks, wondering if I've lost it every ten minutes, like I do every time I have a cell phone near my proximity.

Oh yeah, and I broke my bed last night. Yeah, I wish it had been in a sexy, sexy way. No, I just leaned my full weight on a joint in just such a way that it must have hit a weak point in the wood (I have a wooden bed frame) and one of the posts just splintered at the bottom.

I'd take a picture of the woody, splintery carnage but, well, I'm lazy and I don't want to get up.

I started watching this movie earlier today called 'Intermission'. The brief description Showtime gave me was, "Lehiff (Colin Farrell) and John (Cillian Murphy) are Dubliners seeking love in this ensemble romantic comedy."

Obviously the Irish have fairly different views on what constitutes as a romantic comedy since, having watched about an hour of it, so far Lehiff has punched out a skinny little barista after telling her they could be soul-mates and then robbed her till (That happened within the first three minutes of the film), Lehiff was punished for "being bold" by getting pissed on in the gentlemen's loo, Deirdre told her boyfriend about her sister's former boyfriend who stole all of her money, tied her to a bed, took a "poo" on her chest and then left her tied there for three days until her mother found her, and a double-decker bus flipped over, covering said "poo-girl" and her mother in bloody survivor hand-prints. Not to mention the over-abundance of scat and urine porn jokes.

Is this love? Is this romance? Ireland, you have my mark. Today, you are more pervy than Japan.

I've also decided that Cillian Murphy has hypno-eye-beams. I had to rewind the first scene he was in three times before I could follow what he was saying, because every time I saw his eyes, I was drawn into their creepy, ice-blue, I'm-going-to-set-Denver-on-fire-with-the-power-of-my-mind gaze.

Jesse and I loved it so much that he made me swear I wouldn't finish it without him. That will happen tomorrow. I expect much more peeing, pooing and blood before the movie is through, or I will be sorely disappointed.

I'm alive.

I was supposed to go to Disneyland tomorrow to renew my season pass, but I have cramps like there's a mack truck pummeling my uterus and so I hate Disneyland, bunnies, the baby jesu and you. So it looks like I'll be staying in for the next few days.

Damnit. I wanna see the Christmas fireworks and Haunted Mansion Holiday. SOAP SNOW BECKONS ME.

I win at procrastinating at life.

Oh my goodness. Last night was more fun that I've had in a long time, all rolled up into one evening.

I went to go see The Poxy Boggards perform at The Galaxy Theater in Santa Ana, CA. As all of you know, I work Renaissance Faires and the Boggards started out over ten years ago as a small, six-man group playing at my home Faire (The Southern California Renaissance Pleasure Faire) and have now grown to a, I believe, fourteen-man group who are one of the most popular draws at Faire. They got a lucky break just over a year ago; the chance to open for the group The Fenians at one of their shows.

They did so well and drew so many people, that the Fenians asked them back again and again, and they kept doing so well that they were asked to headline their very own show at the Galaxy last night. The Galaxy holds approximately 620 people at it’s capacity, if standing-room only. I believe the Boggards sold 550 tickets. To almost sell-out your first headlining show... That’s just an insane accomplishment.

They are an amazing group of guys. The range of talent in that group is just astounding. From traditional Renaissance madrigals to epic ballads that will make you cry to the bawdiest and most offensive songs that you can't even take the time to be horrified at because you're laughing so hard... they do it all, and they do it well.

I am so proud to know them and I am so proud of them and I can't wait to see where they go from here... I just hope they never, ever go too far from Faire.

Here are some of my favorite images from the evening:













The rest of the pictures are uploaded here, if you're interested.

I was just about to start typing up an entry when the phone rang, so give me a few. I'm off for a smoke and a chat. Back in a few.

...

Okay, I'm back.

So, yesterday was Halloween. It was uneventful, as all Halloweens have been for the past ten years, ever since I was sixteen and that really mean man told me I was too old to be trick-or-treating. It really bummed me out. I mean, if I'm going to put work into a costume and then prostrate myself in front of people for free candy, then you're damn well going to give me candy. That bastard. He ruined it. I hope he burns in his banal hell for all of eternity.

On a random note, my mother spent upwards of two hours yesterday afternoon carving a pumpkin that remained on the kitchen counter all night. It never got to see the front porch, nor did it ever get a candle shoved inside of it. It just... sat on the counter, all cut up and un-used, much like the ugly victim of a snuff film.

Wow. Hi. Am I in a mood today.

Moving on.

Spent the evening hiding away at Jason's house with Jesse, watching 'Advent Children'. For those of you not in the know, 'Advent Children' is a movie that takes up two years after the end of Final Fantasy VII. I, myself, have no idea what Final Fantasy is about at all. I've never played any of the games, nor do I plan to any time in the future. I have no love for console or PC games. I'm an old-fashioned, pencil-and-paper, table-top, dice-rolling gamer. All I know about Final Fantasy is what I hear from the chattering of friends that play it. The only reason I got roped into watching 'Advent Children' was because of the promise of pretty bishonen boys. I was not disappointed.

I am currently obsessed with the pretty that is Kadaj and Sephiroth, and Limewire has just finished my 'Advent Children' download (Shh, don't tell, okay?), so I know what I'm doing for the rest of the day.

Hm. I should probably jump in the shower sometime today, as well.

Have a lovely Tuesday, everyone.

Oh, right - And there are pictures from closing weekend of Northern Faire up at my Photobucket account, if anyone is interested.