octobre 26, 2003

Important Papers...and Underwear

I woke up this morning, and there was no color but orange. Pure orange light flooded my room, and I was already disoriented by daylight savings. "Is there something wrong with my eyes?" I thought, and then drifted back to sleep.

Two hours later, the light was still orange, streaming in as flourescent bars through the blinds on all the windows in my house. No real daylight, just a dark orange glow. I opened the front door, and there was a bad smell, and a bad heat - heat that nobody should know at 10am on an october sunday. The sun was a hazy crimson color.

I turned on the news and there was an old german lady being interviewed about what she was taking with her, since she had just been asked to evacuate her home due to the 80,000 acre fire burning it's way toward her neighborhood. "Oh just some important papers... and some underwear. But don't you worry about me. The lord takes care of me!"

I decided to take the dog out, since the neighborhood was so quiet. I guess I wanted to make sure that everyone around me hadn't been secretly evacuated without my knowledge (those sneaky neighbors!) I think this is the closest I've ever lived to a fire of this size, and I'm a little scared. It's basically snowing ash, the winds are strong, and the fire may be moving in my direction. What if I have to evacuate? What should I pack? Should I quickly acquire renter's insurance? I suppose none of these questions will be answered by typing in my blog.

Posted by robyn at 12:20 PM

octobre 19, 2003

Ja Pan? Junior Pimp? John Pumpernickel?

Mister J.P.
You own 3 clothing stores in P.B.
Next time you come in, ask for me
Cause you tip exorbitantly.

Thanks for the dough, JP (whoever you are).

Posted by robyn at 03:52 PM

octobre 17, 2003

Give Me "Party Girl" Any Day...

I saw the film "Party Monster" the other night at the Kensington, San Diego's answer to the crappy Act I and Act II. It was Mr. Macaulay Culkin's first film in nine years. "Why", you ask, "did he go away for nine years and choose to return in a film that I haven't even heard of?" Well, I think Macaulay had a plan. Y'know, something like:
1. Star in "Richie Rich" and pound the last nail into the coffin of my career as a child actor.
2. Get married.
3. Get divorced.
4. Kickstart career as serious adult actor by starring as a murderous gay drug-addicted club kid in a small cult film that few will see.

But I digress. The film was basically good, albeit a bit depressing. It was based on a true story, about two kids in New York City in the eighties who apparently revolutionized clubbing and had a small hand in creating what we know today as the rave scene. It was kind of a dual narrative, by both Macaulay and Seth Green, who was by far the best part of the film. Actually, the best part of the film was Seth Green's costuming, specifically when he dresses up as a treasure troll. (Hmm...don't I know someone who did that?)

Chloe Sevigny and Natasha Lyonne also star, but the film disables either actress from developing any depth, and they both come off as mundane and cliche characters. Dylan McDermott plays a sinister club owner rather well, however.

I wanted to like this film so much, but I just left the theatre in a slump. It was well made, and pretty well acted, but I guess the subject matter was just troubling to me.

Posted by robyn at 02:03 AM

octobre 14, 2003

O Wet Pet

They say that, of all the reasons that couples break up, money is number one on the list. I don't know who "they" are, but I agree. I feel like I've had the following argument every day this week:

Ash: Can you pay for dinner tonight?

Me: (dully) Okay, but I did just spend $200 at the vet yesterday.

A: But I paid for the last two tuesdays! Come on!

M: You just spit on me!

A: I'm sick of you and your dry arguments!

M: Fine, I'll pay.

Oh yeah, I/we got a dog. His name is Miles and he has been ours for a week. He's great - so smart and cute. Unfortunately, there is one thing that Miles will not abide: having his picture taken. This is very unfortunate, being that I love to photograph things.

First, we thought it was the flash. Katie was trying to snap some shots of him with one of those disposable things, and he got so mad that he left the room and wouldn't return no matter how many times we called and dangled treats. It took him about 15 minutes to forgive her.

I thought I'd be clever and busted out my manual Nikon, for some shots incognito. But no dice. As soon as I lifted the camera up to my face, he took off. I followed him with some treats, but he nursed his grudge for a while.

This is a tragedy! Things as aesthetically pleasing as Miles must be photographed. And yet...I can't deny the fact that pet photographs, by their very nature, are chronically lame. So ultimately, his camera-shyness could be a blessing in disguise. When I become a famous photographer, I suppose they will have fewer lame pet pics to pull from my past and humiliate me with.

Posted by robyn at 10:25 PM

octobre 06, 2003

A Clean Getaway

I spent Friday night in the ER. I got this weird, ugly V-shaped cut on my wrist at work, and I decided I should get it cleaned and stitched up, since it was given to me by the jagged corner of a metal shelf, above an area where meat is often cleaned. And besides, it kinda sounded like fun.

I got there about 2am, and the waiting area didn't appear to be too full. I filled out some workers' comp paperwork, and hunkered down with my Atlantic Monthly. The lady said I would probably be waiting for about an hour - it turned out to be about three.

When I was finally admitted, I got my own room complete with a bed and "Rorschach inkblot test"-themed curtains. I saw an overweight mermaid in them. Then, out of nowhere, THE HOTTEST ER DOCTOR IN THE LAND came in to bandage me up. I had to get a Tetanus shot, and later Ash asked me if the doctor had given it to me in my ass. I can't say the thought hadn't crossed my mind...

Ultimately, I ended up being there until about 6am. It seems like a lot of stupid/sad people come into the ER on friday nights. Here are a few...

- Middle-aged, weathered woman, barely able to walk, who was beat up by her boyfriend. She refused to fill out a police report because she claimed the arguement was her fault.
- Token 15-yr-old gangsta with numerous stab wounds and blood soaked into his white wife-beater tank. Family members running amok.
- Frenzied hypochondriac, mumbling about heart palpitations and exaggerating the amount of time he has been waiting.
- And the sad one: a girl my age, hit by a car. The doctor told her unsuspecting friends that she wouldn't make it probably, and they crumbled right in front of me.

I suppose there's nothing like other people's pain to put your own in perspective.

Posted by robyn at 01:50 AM