caroworld

I have to get a longer phone jack. The one I have is stretched to its very limit, as taut as it can be around the bed, my elbow, and bended over the laptop. This is because I'm practicing the splits right now. I can't get any closer to the wall and the desk is in the way. So if -- I mean, when -- I start improving, I'm not going to be able to blog and stretch at the same time. Not a good situation. I wonder where I can get a long phone jack. A very long phone jack. Are they called phone jacks anyway? Phone jack extension? Wire-thingy. Maybe at Home Depot. Darn. I hate how work just gobbles up your hours. So I'll go to Home Depot after work tomorrow. One more thing I have to do after work tomorrow. Other things include: write thank you note for Aunt Marie (she hemmed my black pants. Very nice of her.) Buy, write, and send out Christmas cards. Wrap a few last presents. Oh, and tomorrow's the 2nd, so buy Pirates of the Carribean for my dad from Target. Also, shrink wrap this DVD I bought called American Movie which absolutely sucked and return it to Target. If they won't take it back I'll try to sell it on half.com.

Let me tell you how bad this movie is ... it was a bummy movie. I guess I don't have much to say about it except I didn't like the main character -- a real person. He was annoying. The whole movie was annoying, actually. It's supposed to be about making movies, a topic that, as anyone who's known me a minute can attest, is very close to my heart. Well, this movie goes and makes that boring. I don't know how they did it, but I hated it. And his movie, the guy who was making a movie -- it was called Covin -- from what I saw of it, it sucked. Oh, I liked some of the cinematography, but generally it sucked. And there was some very disturbing directing going on. The guy kept harrassing his (I guess) rich uncle. OK, the uncle could not have been rich, the poor guy lived in a trailer. So this director guy wants the old uncle to finance his sucky horror movie that no one can relate to. Well, at least he's somewhat decent to his uncle, but overall it was sad. I think I couldn't relate to him. His life was a mess. But my life's a mess and it just depresses me to see someone only want to get drunk and cheat on his ex-wife he's trying to get back to and keep pestering old people for money. Although he did have this idealistic enthusiastic side I liked.

What a long, probably boring paragraph. I am practicing the splits, you know. I'm trying to occupy my mind so that I forget the pain. I wish it would go away by now. I just got out of the shower before this, too. (Keep your mind clean, I'm here in my pjs.) Warm muscles stretch better. So I should stretch after I exercise or after a hot shower/bath. My usual exercise is when I skate to work, so that's hardly appropriate. Practicing the splits at work. I don't think I could live that down.

Tonight I was supposed to meet the acting group.

So I met Tina. It was at her house. That's it. That's the group. Me and Tina.

Tina and I talked for a while. She's into theatrical stuff and wants to get more into film stuff. She's got a lot of experience with opera and directing. But she got what I was trying to do. After a bit I left. We said we keep in touch.

So now what? No group. No weekly monologue practice sessions. I guess I'll just have to do it on my own. The whole point of the group was for the incentive, the regularity and consistency, basically so I had to have a monologue ready and study it, practice it, get it good.

I guess I'll see if any of them have an excuse for not showing up and not letting me know they weren't going to be there. I hate flakes.

The good part was the drive to SF was long, rainy, and conducive to entertaining mind-wandering. I listened to my Nat King Cole CD. The new one I got from Best Buy, not the one they sell at Starbucks. This one has his 10 best hits. It's great. All these great songs, I really like them. It was a nice drive.