Eeeeeeeeeew

Last weekend, I got a little survey on my door asking if I had termites. Having not seen any bugs besides a disturbingly large fly that got in when I brought my bike in from the porch, I checked no.

So of course, since my apartment was one of the few not sprayed by the exterminator, now I've suddenly gotten an infestation of the little bastards.

They're not terribly smart or terribly fast, which makes killing them fairly easy, but there's an awful lot of them, which will make eradicating them fairly difficult.

Unfortunately, they've concentrated in the kitchen, most of the ones I can see being in the light fixture, which is profoundly disturbing when trying to make food.

Oh well. The super's coming at some point in the next few days, so hopefully they'll be gone soon. Until then, I guess I'll just continue to shudder and squish.

Whoopee, I Was Wrong!

I'm employed! Not gainfully, but at least employed! I got an internship at the Ellen DeGeneres show, and I start Monday.

This was the job I was starting to lose faith in a bit last night. The guy finally called me this morning as I was having a violent debate with my alarm clock about whether I was gonna get up.

The pay is...well, nonexistent, but this is the best opportunity I've had in a very, very long time, and I'm sure as hell not going to pass it up, even if it means mooching, probably ending up working 7 days a week so I don't have to mooch quite as much, going on the all-ramen diet, and never going out.

The show is out in Burbank, which is kind of ironic, since part of the reason I ended up living in Venice and spurned the Valley was that I thought I was gonna be working in Santa Monica, and didn't want to live on the 405 freeway. Now I'm going to anyway.

However, it's a reverse commute and the northbound section of the freeway clears about two to three hours earlier than the southbound in the morning. And really, I'd much rather work in the Valley and live elsewhere than live in the Valley and work elsewhere. Like, totally.

But overall: YAAAAAAAAAAY!

Random Bits

Nothing major really happened today, but I did have a couple little things.


- I got woken up at 7am (after finally getting to sleep at 4) for the 2nd morning in a row by some fabulous folks I now call Circular Saw Man and Dropping Shit Dude.

CSM and DSD seem to be doing some work, but severe exhaustion has left me only muster enough energy to shake my fist at them through the drapes, the window, and from what I can hear of their actions, at least one floor.

We'll see if they're back tomorrow.


- I registered my car in California, and ended up getting my driver's license too, since the guy who registered my car pointed out that if I got pulled over and I had an Illinois license and a California registration, I'd get a ticket.

I wasn't quite sure why, but I figured, what the hell, I'm here already, and I always look like shit in my driver's license photos anyway, it'll be nice to have one to compare others favorably to.

The one problem was that when transferring a license from out of state, you have to take a written test, and there are certain little details that differ from state to state, like how far you have to stop in front of railroad tracks and such.

So I picked up a booklet on California's rules and whipped through about half of it while waiting for the guy to approve my application.

Despite the fact that a) I had not even planned to take the test today and b) I studied for a total of ten minutes, I got only one question wrong out of thirty.

Sadly, this is the best I've done on a test since high school. Happily, it means I should be getting my California driver's license one of these days.

For some reason here (perhaps to promote bureaucratic inefficiency and thus create jobs), they mail your license to you, instead of giving it to you on the spot like sane states (and D.C.).

I now have my old license with a hole punched in it and a piece of paper. I hope to god those will get me into a bar for the next month.


- I'm still waiting for a call back about something I interviewed for (which I will not elaborate upon so as not to jinx it any further than it already is).

I sent in my resume Wednesday, got a call Thursday, interviewed Friday, and the guy said he'd call back Monday.

No call Monday, of course. Left a message Tuesday morning. No call Tuesday or today, calling again tomorrow. I'm getting the sinking feeling this is gonna fall through.


- The big light in my kitchen seems to have been invaded by some rather large bugs. I can't tell what kind of bugs, just large, stupid, and often dead.

I'm calling the super in the morning to have him come investigate. Better go brush up on my Russian!

Baseball Update

Fucking fuck.

Lost In Translation

I am unduly amused by this.

Thanks to other Ellen.

Zzzzz...

I love days where I just keep falling asleep for no apparent reason, and no matter how much I sleep, I'm still tired. It's not narcolepsy, because it's not really sudden.

I think it's probably more laziness than anything else, but I'll call today's version Spanish Sleeping Sickness, both because it's alliterative and because it's Columbus Day.

Hopefully, I'll be busy enough soon that this will cease being a problem. I'd write more about that, but I'm about to fall asleep again.

D'oh

Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck....(note for easier reading: if you're registered at any Tribune paper, your password will work at LATimes.com)

I refuse to cross picket lines on principle (and especially on this one, because from what I've read, the owners are really trying to dick over the workers), but this strike's going to be a pain in the ass.

However, the owners are dumbshits to get into a fight with workers with such a heavily pro-union town as LA. Most people here work for one union or another, and won't cross a picket line, period.

And most people who aren't union know lots of people who are, and won't cross the lines unless demands are completely unreasonable, which these don't appear to be to me.

Hopefully the owners will fold like a cheap card table before I run out of milk again.

Film Nerds And Violence Aficionados, Unite!

And go see Kill Bill.

If you can stomach the violence, it fucking rocks. And even if you can't, bring a vomit bag, and go anyway. Because it still fucking rocks.