can you go home again?

Sometimes Your Parents Are Wrong, But It’s Best To Approach It Delicately

Dear Dad,

Here’s the history of >77 Sunset Strip.

And, don’t get me wrong. I really love the barbershop quartet ending you’ve tacked on to the show, but… well, here, listen to the theme song of 77 Sunset Strip. I guess with the whole three points thing maybe that’s why you hear “Warner Brothers” as “Miami Beach.”

And this does prove that you’re in fact a songwriter, I guess.

No apologies necessary, as all I wanted was you home safely.

Not living in Miami Beach,
Pamie

You Can Go Home Again, But Only Some Of Them Are Happy To See You

I went back to Texas this weekend. I had a screening for City Hunter and my dad was sick and in the hospital. I flew into Austin and then drove immediately to Houston. I’m happy to report my dad is now back home. In any event, by Friday night I was exhausted and hadn’t eaten all day long.

Because my parents live in a crap-ass small town outside of Houston, the only place we could eat late on a Friday night was Chili’s. Sometime during the meal I noticed the girl sitting in the booth behind my mom was a girl I hadn’t seen since I was a sophomore in high school. At first I thought I should go say hi and find out how she’s doing and if she still knows some of the friends I had that I’ve lost touch with, but as I sat there I started remembering how we were pretty much enemies back when we were fifteen. I remembered how she had spread lies about me and how she was really really mean. I decided not to say hello, figuring she probably didn’t remember me anyway.

She got up to leave and turned back towards me when she reached the door. She stared at me, squinted and said to her friend, “Well, she still looks like a fat shit to me.” She turned around and left before she heard me yell, “NICE!”

My mother, who only curses on the most special of occasions, said, “What a bitch.”

“Ma, this girl is wearing tie-dye and a scrunci and her idea of nightlife is the Chili’s on Friday night. She’s already been punished enough.”

But as I was driving back to Austin I remembered a few things. Firstly, I remembered that girl’s last name. It was amazing to me how long people can hold grudges. Ten years and still all of that venom. And then I remembered that she wasn’t the girl that stole my boyfriend from me. In fact, she was dating that boy before I was. When he said he liked me I said I wouldn’t date him if he had a girlfriend. So he broke up with her and started dating me. A week later when I wouldn’t have unprotected sex with me he ditched me to fuck some girl in a van on the side of the road. I remembered this girl as the van girl, but she’s not. Maybe she remembers me as the van girl, too. Man, it’d be understandable if this boy was worth all of this girl-hate, but he really wasn’t.

Other than that, the trip was good. I saw almost everybody and had a really good time.

Your Beauty Products Can Be Too Much Emotional Strain

While washing my hair Friday morning, I had a horrible mishap. My conditioner comes in a strange tub that you have to unscrew and then shelter from the shower stream so it’s not ruined. You have to cup it and hold it to your chest as you gingerly scoop out just enough product. My hands were too wet and the tub slipped out and overturned, dumping twenty dollars worth of conditioner all over my shower. I started crying and wiping my head against the shower walls, trying to Ubercondition, since it was going to be a while before I could ship more conditioner in from Austin. I think it’s time to start buying Herbal Essences.

Taylor Likes Radiohead

That kitty cat missed me this weekend, thinking that I had abandoned him to boyland. He’s been very cuddly, and in my lap almost constantly. He also was completely captivated by a Radiohead concert I was playing on my computer. That cat has never once glanced at my laptop screen in the year and a half I’ve been on this machine. Since I think Taylor might be part alien, it makes sense that he was receiving messages from Thom Yorke.

It’s Gonna Cost Money To Get My Mail

My mailman is trying to get me to become involved in his pyramid scheme. Yesterday he wouldn’t hand over my mail until I promised to check out his webpage. I hid from him today, and had Ray sign for my packages. I think I might have to go to a seminar of his if I ever want anything shipped from Amazon again.

On A Clear Day

You can see the ocean on our porch. That’s very nice. We just found that out yesterday.

 

Some People Like to Touch Me

And some of these people don’t know me very well. I can understand the arm-slapping or thigh-touching that goes on when you’re just getting to know someone, but if I’ve only met you three times and you’re lowering your forehead to mine when you’re laughing at a joke? Dude. Back up. That’s my space your all up in. Let me decide if I even like you before you give me an invasion in sector 34D, okay?

If It Ain’t Broke, Don’t Fix It

So, I screwed up the index2.shtml page trying to figure out how to make a squishy graphic that didn’t have so much white space. Now it’s all jacked up and I’m tired of dealing with it. Man, if someone has an idea on how to have the squishy name and tag line at the top of the new entries but still have the “latest update” visible on a fifteen inch monitor, I’d be stoked to hear it. email me with any suggestions, please.

Then I downloaded Netscape 6 which screwed up my LIFE. It hated me, hated my email, crashed my system about a million times and then made my machine take twenty minutes to start each time. It erased this entry three times. It made me cry. I just now deleted it, finally, I think. I’m not sure. We’ll see the next time if my machine crashes again.

Then I removed a cat’s worth of hair from my laptop keyboard. I think perhaps Cal’s been writing his manifesto when I’m not home.

Some People Don’t Know Me Like They Think They Do

Y’all, for days people have been telling me that I’m going to be upset when I find out about his new Bring It On rip-off with Mena Suvari. I just saw a preview for it this afternoon. It’s about cheerleaders that commit crimes. I am so in love with it. Hello, Sugar And Spice. Where have you been?

Some Movies Can’t Do Everything

Dear Save the Last Dance:

Less Preachy, more dancy. Thanks.

Where was the “H-I-P’s” line?

Lookin’ for booty bouncin’,
Pamie

I Have Too Much To Do

Yesterday was spent catching up. Friday was spent getting ready. Now I’ve got tons of deadlines coming up before I leave for Vegas on Friday for Squishycon.

There’s a Gilmore Girls recap up from last week. I’m about to write the pilot recap for PopStars. There were some complications getting a tape of the pilot, but it arrived today. Then tomorrow night is another Gilmore, and then on Friday a new PopStars. There are other deadlines, too, but those are big ones. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot of typing to do, and I don’t know how much longer I have before this computer crashes again.

[db]

“YM Girlz Rule!”
Body Shop

Limp locks are no fun. Here, a few ways to pump up the volume:

• Look for volumizing shampoos with hydrolyzed proteins, panthenol, or humectants.This is how it gets started. My advice is to also look at the price tag. If something is way too much money, don’t buy it, or you’ll regret it when your hair needs it to look normal.
• Shampoo at least every other day to remove product build-up.Who isn’t doing this? Wait. Don’t tell me.
• Towel dry, then blow-dry hair. Bend over and aim the hair at the roots. Lift your hair away from your scalp as you go.YM, what would we do without you?