Yes, this is twice in one day. Deal with it.

I got a card today from Tammy for my birthday. Keep in mind that I can walk to her house in ten minutes. It basically said happy birthday, sorry our schedules suck, we need to get together for lunch or something. Which got me thinking about why the hell I'm so busy that I can't make a phone call. I honestly don't know how time's getting away from me like it is. I called Tammy just now, and we talked a little about how desperate we're getting to get the hell out of here (she's been talking seriously about going to Florida- she told me she actually opened a bank account down there and is saving up money for when she moves there). We're going to get together tomorrow to go work out, then we're going to go have lunch somewhere. It just kind of makes me feel bad that I can't even keep tabs on someone who is right there, the one friend I still want to keep after high school, especially when I used to complain about her not making an effort. Hey, it's fixable if you try, right?

So yesterday was my 22nd birthday. Everyone else seemed to make a bigger deal of it than I did. I just figure, between the ages of 21 and 30, I'm just another year older, so whatever. At least I got a giggle-fest in Farscape, though. It was also the first birthday in a few years that hasn't sucked. Definitely better than last year, when the MPD was raging and Tammy took me shopping, but I kept falling over (plus none of the clothes fit so I got all depressive on top of it). Or two years before that, when my friends threw me a party, but I was so sick with the flu/bronchitis/laryngitis that they also had to wake me up at 4 am to give me cough medicine. And so on.

Usually on my birthday I make some kind of goal, someplace I want to be before next year. The only year it actually turned out was when I turned 18 and decided I'd be in LA before June 1999- and came home from LA in March of that year. I'm gonna say the same thing this year, though. By next June 28, I want to be back in LA. I've just gotten really sick of living at home, of Illinois, of closed-minded people, of the guys I meet, and let's face it, I am not meant to live my life doing data entry. The only reason I haven't run screaming for Hollywood before this was because I didn't want to be that far from Scapers. That's my only stumbling block now, and it kills, but it's worth a shot, right? < shrug >

I'm becoming a gym junkie. I went yesterday for the first time in a while, and oh my God, do I miss it. I always seem to forget how much I absolutely love it. Was also getting checked out by this very not-my-type-but-kinda-cute guy there while I was working out next to the stick thin girl that I wanted to trade every physical characteristic with. Also managed to pull a muscle in my arm, otherwise I'd be there again, tomorrow. Tomorrow, however, is another story.

Oh, and I'm busy scouring TV listings to find out when Witchblade is on again. Watched it and started taping, but my VCR decided to just kick out on me at the beginning, so I decided to tape later. Of course, this is the ep featuring sweaty shirtless Danny doing martial arts for like ten thousand minutes and Ian's arms. I was this hormonal mess that developed this temporary oral fixation due to the mass of testosterone seeping out through the TV screen. AND I DON'T HAVE IT ON TAPE YET. This will change, God dammit! I need my Witchblade! I need my gorgeous guys with muscles! I need a cold shower...

Anyway.

I've always been one of those people who doesn't really need a guy. I'm very picky, and I'm a little bit paranoid. I'm fine with this.

But what I want to know is why I can't have a normal guy hit on me. I get the 40-year-olds with wedding rings and babyseats in the back of their cars hitting on me at the gas station. Today as I was sitting in my car reading on lunch, I had one of the customers, a total skeeze, start trying to talk me up. And then I get this guy at the end of the day, who looks a little like David Spade in his Joe Dirt role, who was doing the same thing, only sprinkling his comments with "baby". Constantly. < sigh > Where are the normal ones? Casey would have been nice if it was dealable. Then there's this Chris guy (I swear, it's always a Chris) that I got to lust after from afar on Friday at the open house who is a total hottie and apparently very nice. He'd be nice if I couldn't guarantee he'd be more interested in Beth or something. I don't even want a boyfriend or anything, I just wouldn't mind knowing that I can attract a normal guy. On the other hand, it's completely possible that I just have an overly high opinion of myself and these guys are actually all on my level. Whatever.

And on top of me grumbling about this, my mother is now convinced I'm mad at her. Okay, maybe I'm a hypocrite because I won't tell her it might be nice to be treated like I'm older than 13, but I also know that telling her that will end up hurting her feelings. She won't say anything to me, even though there is pretty much no possible way to hurt my feelings. Nick says she's afraid she's going to make me madder. It's not like I have this horrible temper. I'm a little bitchy sometimes, yeah, but it's no different from anyone else in my family. So I'm able to be feared, but not respected. Great. Call me, agents, I want an excuse to get out...

You know what's great? Losing weight. I've found my happy medium with those pills, and I liiiiiiike. I have my mother's neck. I never knew that before. I'm wearing a shirt I bought last year so I could wear it when I lost a few pounds. I'm actually wearing a bra that was just a little too small for me a couple months ago. Wheee! It's good. Now if I could just lose in my arms and thighs, I'd be completely happy. I'm hoping to be thin and pretty by ScaperCon instead of just pretty. < g >

I think I mentioned that I sent off half of my headshots last week, right? Still no calls. I'm climbing the damn walls here now. It's been a week! Call me! Hire me! Love me! Throw me a bone, please! < /begging >

Yeah, I'm babbling a lot lately. So shoot me.

So I'm going ahead and adding comments. Why? No freaking clue. I've always figured anyone who wants to talk to me about what I write about can just E-mail me.

But they look pretty, dammit. And I like new toys.

Happy Flag Day! And in other news, Mother Nature is a crack whore.

In the Hanniganite world, Flag Day has been an event for four years. It's our most important holiday. That's all the backstory you need. A couple weeks ago I got all huffy that Flag Day wasn't on the calendar at work, and so it quickly turned into my coworker Shawn declaring that on June 14 I would come in wearing nothing but a flag.

So here it is, June 14, and we had the open house for our company. I wore my one-time uniform instead of a flag, which Shawn ragged on me for. While I was filing, he had Gretchen come up to me with one of the flags that were hanging up for the open hours and give it to me as a present. Ha ha. I wore it in my hair instead. I took it out later, and so Shawn comes back to me with a roll of red, white and blue ribbon, saying "When I get back, I wanna see you wearing some ribbon!" I promptly turned it into a sash ala Miss America. My boss Jack saw this, and asked what was next. I said "Whatever Shawn gives me." Jack comes back with "Wait till he gives you the red, white and blue see-through plastic shirt." Dammit, he overheard all that. Oh, well, at least he didn't yell.

And I talked to Casey today. For just about anyone who's reading, Casey is a guy that I met at a training class for work and really kind of liked, and then I found out that he's the son of one of my bosses. Uh huh, yeah. It's one of those Only Me things. Casey called to talk to one of the guys, and he sounded really glad to talk to me for that minute or two. Which means he's a total Type B- a great guy who for one reason or another, just can't be around.

But there shall be no sighing. For it is Flag Day.

While I'm one who would much rather talk in E-mail than in a blog, Sarah's in Germany for the next couple weeks, so watch me blog!

I've gotten completely psyched for ScaperCon. Between Scapespeare talks, window shopping for dresses, trying to remind myself to reserve the freaking hotel room for Nick and Laurie, and all the other stuff... I realized today that I only have a month and a half. Which kicks so much ass I can't even describe it, but I do get to do a bit of freaking at how much I still have to do. I just need the drive to do it all. Plus there have been a lot of slow parts at work among the chaos, and so I spend a lot of time staring at the pictures I have hanging by my desk and wanting to be the hell back there. I miss the Scapers! I want to be back there! Especially since we have Shaye coming now! Wheeeeee!!! =)

In other news: mailed out half of my headshots Saturday before heading to my Scaper buddy Liz's goodbye party (she went off to boot camp Tuesday). I'm panicking because I haven't gotten a call yet. Logically I know that they might not have even gotten my pictures yet. Or maybe they haven't opened them. There are so many reasons why I haven't gotten a call, but I'm starting to freak. I have the utmost confidence in myself, but I have zero confidence in everyone else to see that. I just wanna do something already...

I love my mother. I really do. Sometimes, however... I went to see that Ya-Ya Sisterhood movie with my mom and her friend Cathy today, and I really shouldn't have gone. I was in a bad mood to begin with, really irritated and PMSy and dealing with a hell of an allergy headache. My mom gets really kind of obnoxious at movies, so that's bad enough. Now she's also taken to treating me like I'm 12 years old. i hate when she does this. I've never been very good at being parented, because I was always able to make my own decisions and go off and do my own thing. Since I moved back from LA she's been like this. It's not all the time, but it's happening a lot lately. I can't handle that. I don't like being told what to do, I don't like people checking up on me all the time. Just trust me to take care of myself and go on, just like you always did. Gah.

I think it's because things are going pretty well for me lately. I'm trying the acting thing finally (and watch me go into a career panic as I now wait for everyone I sent headshots to to call me back, which I doubt they will), I'm not broke anymore, I have a good job that I like... I'm hoping it'll all come together and let me finally move back to LA (as long as I have a way to get away for Scaper weekends, of course). So of course something has to happen. I'm just waiting for everything to fall apart on me at the last second. I honestly don't know what I'd do if things went right for once. The last good year I had was when I was about eight years old, if that tells you anything. Except for the end of my nervous breakdown in January, 2002's not going too bad. And I'm not sabotaging myself this time. I am ready for things to go good. I am ready and willing and able, and I freaking want something good to happen. I want things to go my way. Dammit.

Until then, I'm stuck being treated like I'm in junior high...

So this MPD (no, not multiple personality disorder) that I mentioned I have. This is what it is. My body's screwed up. What happens is that my body can't react well to stress. It gets stressed, puts me into a strong fight or flight reaction that results in jaw headaches, dizziness, nausea... So it's not only physical, it's also mental and biochemical.

I haven't had problems with it in a year, so naturally, I didn't think that taking something to speed my metabolism would affect me.

Yeah, so I'm home from work. When I went to sleep last night, I was wondering why I was all dizzy, then kind of had an "Oh, shit" moment. Woke up this morning and could barely get in and out of bed to hit snooze on my alarm clock. I'm staying in today, trying to get it out of my system a little, and taking this herbal distress remedy stuff that usually only gets broken out for my panic attacks. It's working and I can at least sit up now, but this stuff also tends to knock me out. I'm supposed to meet my friend Hap at the airport tonight, and so Nick will definitely be driving, cuz I'm going, dammit.

What sucks is that this stuff is working. I already lost five pounds, I was feeling great, I wasn't having any side effects beyond that first day's hyperactivity... And what gets me? My own biochemistry. < sigh > I think I have to give it a little time to get out of my system, and then try one more time by cutting the dose in half again because my body freaking sucks.

Haven't posted in a while. Why, do you ask? Because my computer is more or less dead. The screen started flickering, then it would just shut off and I couldn't get it back on. It stayed dead for a week, and on Thursday it miraculously came back to life. The screen still flickers, though, so it'll just die again. But until then...

So in the time that I have been gone:
-My headshots are being reprinted and will be ready next Friday after four. Then I get to go ahead and do my mass mailing, whoring myself out to agents.
-I have seen Star Wars four times. I'm looking for cows. Oh, and I love the movie and I really really like Hayden Christensen. He's pretty.
-ShipperCon! ShipperCon! ShipperCon! Had a lot of fun and I'm realizing that every movie I go to, I want Sarah and Cristin to be there.
-Preparing for ScaperCon. I really need to reserve that other hotel room.

I'm now on a weight loss drug. Long story short, I've been dealing with anorexia since I was eight, and bulimia since I was thirteen, and it hasn't worked for me. I discovered last summer that I can't starve myself anymore, and regular dieting doesn't work, so when I kind of realized last week that I was getting depressed and pissy cuz of my damn self-image, I picked up something from GNC. You're supposed to take 2 pills in the morning with breakfast, then at lunch with an eight ounce glass of water. The first day I took it, I was feeling like my blood sugar was nonexistent, at least until 3:30 when I started bouncing. Second day, I cut the dosage to one pill each time, and I'm much better. It's my third day and I've evened out. Thank God. I've got a lot more energy, but I need to eat more. If I don't, it feels like my body is actually eating itself, which even for an anorexic can be a scary thought. But it is working, and so I'm going to see where this takes me.

On the downside, I don't know what to do with all this energy. Gah...