A suprisingly great place to actually get stuff done . . .

. . . The car dealership. Seriously. I’m getting my oil changed (oh the joys of adjusting your errands to LA traffic).

This place really sucks the fun out of life and therefore you’re left with doing stuff you haven’t had the attention span to actually accomplish—like blog posts for work, re-organizing your personal email box, and watching broadcast nightly news. Thank god for Wi-Fi.

Plus, they have ’90s-esque advertisements still hanging out. Keep your COOL, people! Good pun.

I think those designers who created those inspiration library posters handled this one.

I think the designers who created those inspiration library posters handled this one.

Okay, a re-run of Law & Order: Special Victim’s Unit is on. Gotta go, cause I’ve never seen an episode of Law & Order in the entirety of my life and I just spotted Rooney Mara in this one. What?!


Veronica Mars Movie: Back, Back, Back it Up!

Veronica Mars is the epitome of the female I aim to be: courageous, fierce, witty, quick on her feet, and humble enough to call for Backup if she needs it.

I’m sure you’ve heard all the hubbub around the Veronica Mars’ movie Kickstarter Campaign. If you haven’t—well, I hope that rock was comfortable to sleep under.

The whole shebang ends today, as in, today is the last day to pledge to fund the movie. And because I love the whole “Veronica Mars” series so very much (I mean, I am a Nancy Drew zealot, what did you expect?), I think every single one of you should spend a buck and pledge for this project. It will be the best dollar you’ve ever spent, I kid you not.

Can't believe the Veronica Mars Movie is happening. Pop POP.

Can’t believe the Veronica Mars movie is happening. Pop POP.

Am I backer? Well, of course. I’m at the $75 level, so I’ll be getting a buttload of Marshmallow news and swag (aka a script, a DVD of the movie, and a t-shirt). I WISH I could go to the premiere—either in Los Angeles or Austin, but of course, I’m not a rich bitch.

Here’s another reason to love Veronica. She sticks up for the little guys:


Veronica: Well, I want to congratulate you. Shake your hand. Congratulations! You’ve been named the world’s biggest cockroach. This award is given in recognition of your unparalleled lack of decency and humanity. Bravo! You’re gonna die friendless and alone.
Lenny: Hey, everybody knows you’re the biggest —
Veronica: Shut up! If I want you to speak, I’ll wave a snausage over your nose. If you use Mandy again to try to convince yourself that you’re not a loser, I will ruin your life — got it? You got it?

I started re-watching the series with the boyfriend a month or so ago, so all of this movie momentum couldn’t have come at a better time. So effing excited.

And of course, all of this almost matches my uncontainable excitement for Arrested Development coming up on Netflix next month.  I wonder what other of my fave shows will resurrect . . .


I decided to create a video that sort of documented my first time in Italy (and my first time in Europe in general) about halfway through the trip. This vid is solely dedicated to my bestie, who kindly showed me around, and is more of a “this is for you” rather than a I-want-about-a-million-views-on-this-vid-like-right-now. I had a lot of fun editing, and even more fun capturing this footage, which is really only about 10% of my overall trip.

My vacay in its entirety deserves its own post. Not sure when I’ll have time this week to rehash it. But it did happen about a month ago, so what’s another few days to wait to share it?


My Baby Cat is Sick.

The love of my life, Dany, has uveitis, which is apparently a common eye disease in cats.

After a hefty (I’m talking 400 fucking dollars) bill from her visit to the vet, I’m to give her two different eyedrop medications and two oral medications twice a day. All of which Dany hates with a fiery, fiery passion. So much so that I’m pretty sure Dany is the reason one of the eyedrops went mysteriously missing after two days.

I was also instructed to go to an animal opthamologist, which I certainly will do once I can afford to drop another very large sum of money. Ugh. I’ve read the uveitis could lead to chronic eye disease and maybe even blindness—it feels terrible to not be able to afford to go to a specialist right away. Can we all take a moment to pity my poor, poor kitty? (I could not restrain myself from that rhyme.) In all seriousness, I’m very worried. But I’m hoping the eyedrops and medication will do the trick.

See that cloudiness in her eyes? Ah. Breaks my heart.


Gamit thoughts while sitting on my balcony . . .

Look how fucking downcast it is right now. And look at the two broken pixels on my phone’s camera lens—perfect.

This post’s title makes my current setting a lot more bohemian than reality: I’m outside on my balcony, yes, decked in my favorite long-sleeved shirt (Texas Football across the chest) and in my top-notch, pink-checkered pajama bottoms. I’m sipping on the finest of cheap wine, Yellow Tail, and wanting the SoCal sun to please shine with its familiar brightness. It’s hiding today, which always subsequently makes me very, very sleepy. The wine probably doesn’t help.

I am, however, not wearing shoes, so I guess I’m acting mildly “boho”. But I am wearing Adidas socks, mind you.

Like the majority of posts on my good ole’ blog, I never really have a point to them. My thought process constantly moves like a river bank faced with a thousand courses, but writing does allow me to focus a bit more. And no, I don’t have ADD.

I do though, have to write blog posts that MUST have a point to them—as in work blog stuff. So I thought I’d write in my personal dormant blog so I can jump-start and re-oil my writing skills. Why does that sentence seem so contradictory? Whatever.

Last night I went to a good friend’s place, where a bunch of my close, post-college friends gathered to watch 2012 in retrospect, via 12 shorts he taped and cleverly strung together. Throughout January – December, these videos captured all the random, fun, party and non-party times we had, like a visual yearbook. These are memories to be filed under our “hip, early twenties,” when Los Angeles was still oh-so new and dancing to strobe lights on a drunken high with strangers was just as fun as playing a third round of Settlers of Catan. I hope that my thirties, forties, and fifties still feel like my twenties. But again, I’m a sucker for wishful thinking.

As I always do with in-retrospect posts, I can’t even begin to start on how my life has changed so much. Even if it was just a year ago. And it most definitely has: I still work at the same job and have the same title, but I do feel like my role has expanded, and I love it. I do live in the same apartment, but I’ve started a new romantic relationship majigger, and the standstill butterflies in my stomach are fluttering once again. (Okay, barf on that last sentence, but seriously, I’m knee-deep in like with one of the greatest guys in my life, and that’s a really good feeling.) And yes, I still drive the same car, wear the same clothes, and hang out with the same people. But there’s still a freshness to it, which I’m blessed to feel. And I rarely use the word “blessed” in writing, since it’s way too Hallmark and meaningless to me, but I can’t think of another word right now, so there.

Whew. I think the non-sun ray soaking has gotten to me today. Or maybe I should really get started on my “serious” writing tasks. Or maybe I’ve had more than a cupful of cheap wine.

Nevertheless, I hope you all are having a great February so far and that you won’t find yourself in a Bill Murray Groundshog Day repeat experience. Or that you’re getting attacked by wolves that make you listen to Lindsay Lohan’s covers of Prince’s hits. That would be the absolute worst.


Bye, 2012. I Will Kind Of Remember You.

I’m in the midst of packing up my giant suitcase and make my way back to Los Angeles tomorrow in the wee morning. Whenever I leave my room in Orlando, I always go through my old drawers and my closet to see if there are any items from my past that could possibly weave its way into my current lifestyle. And there usually is. Tomorrow I’m bringing home fake Wolverine claws and my Spice Girls watch. Spurts of childhood visit me often.

My face throughout the majority of 2012.

I’ll be up in the air as 2013 commences. And that means its brother (sister?), 2012, is giving me the deuces.

I’d recount all of my best times and lowest lows from 2012 on here if I could. Problem is that I have shit for memory and can’t really remember anything past what, September?

But do know that in retrospect, the good outweighed the bad in 2012 and I’m hoping 2013 will be just as mildly memorable.

My “resolutions” for 2013. FYI, they aren’t anything out of the ordinary:

+ Read. Just fucking read anything. I need to find my rhythm back into reading books and magazines on a daily basis. My writing needs more oomph, as it lacks inspiration.

+ Write for myself. Short stories, poems, songs. I miss writing for me and only me.

+ Give more. I really want to volunteer more consistently. Just haven’t found that right org yet.

+ Cook more. And I mean beyond what I already know how to cook.

+ Run more. Would be fun to train for a half-marathon or something of that calibar for the summer. Gotta get on that now!

+ Stress less. I feel like I said “I’m SO stressed out!” almost every single day. Calm the fuck down, Mel. You’ve been through worse.

What’re your resolutions this year? Let me know in a comment! Dig it.


Oh god, my throat hurts. (And other after effects of vacation.)

Got home last night from the big theme-parking trip with the roomies. I’m still feeling exhausted, and my throat feels like dry rocks layered with sandpaper. So wonderful.

I won’t go into detail about my trip, since I don’t have the energy to dive into or explain that wild time. But do know that I can now cross “Get super intoxicated at a Disney park” off my bucket list, and we’ll leave it at that.

I’m betting on this October to be a solid month. And here’s why:

• I’ll be starting to prep for NaNoWriMo. Okay, I am aware that NaNoWriMo is during November, however, the planning period is now! And since I’m terrible at plot development, I need all the planning time I can get.

• Halloween is on my mind. Last year I went all out and was Daria, and about 30 percent of people understood my costume. To prevent being mistakenly called “Ugly Betty” again, I’m thinking about wearing/being something less meta. Like a panda or monkey or peach. Maybe I’ll go as a sexy slug or whatever. People suck sometimes (actually, the majority of the time).

• I plan to buy this, and really, really, smash writer’s block with the intensity of Bruce Lee’s left fist.

• I’m going to catch-up on Downton Abbey. Hopefully.

• I’m excited to bake a bunch of random fall pastries, because it’s colder in Los Angeles now, and drinking coffee and eating a pastry is automatically romantic to me. My “romance” threshold is horribly low.

• I’m going to sleep.


Events, Travel

I’m tired. And it’s only Tuesday.

How I’ve been feeling so far this week (featuring Capt. Dany):

The people outside my window are shouting and coming down from their open-mic coffee shop high. It’s really obnoxious. I wish I had the guts to throw eggs at them. Soft boiled eggs. But then again, I’m not a 12-year-old boy.

I really should rest up though and get some sleep. I almost wrote “shut eye,” but I always feel so weird and ingenuine, and kind of like I’m about 70 years old whenever I use that phrase.  (“Oh, c’mon, Timmy, go on to bed and get some shut eye. Your old grandma is gonna finish up folding these socks here!”)

I’m going back to Orlando for a few days to take the roomies “theme parking.” I’m not sure if that’s an actual word, but I’ve been using it frequently since Sunday. I’m extremely excited, not only because we’re going to Epcot’s Food and Wine Festival, and I’ve never been, but because my roommates will get to experience the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. I cannot wait to count the gleams in their eyes. It’ll be fantastic!

Two more days.