Bathroomgirl.net

I’m still alive.

This week has been hella busy. Last Monday I submitted a resume for a production assistant position on a film that’s being made in Savannah. I still haven’t heard back. I’ve got a bad feeling. Nevertheless, I’ve assembled the cutest outfit for the job interview, which calls for a pair of black ballet flats. Problem is I don’t actually own a pair of black ballet flats. Turning to eBay, I’ve got it narrowed down to three adorable pairs, but I just can’t choose which ones I like best. Seeing as the prices are all quite reasonable, hell, I think I’ll just buy them all! A flat for every occasion!

I’m my house’s new cleaning lady. Once a week I get to kneel on all fours and scrape grunge out of tile grout, among other exciting things. I work for five hours and bank $50. Not bad, me thinks.

I’m trying desperately to get Katherine’s Diary (my screenplay) finished, but I have writer’s constipation. I sat at the Swainsboro Library yesterday staring at my notebook for at least three hours, and managed to strain out half a page. How does writer’s constipation differ from writer’s block, I hear you inquire. Well, with writer’s block, there are no ideas or story to begin with. With writer’s constipation, however, the story is definitely there — it plays over and over in your head ad fucking nauseam — but no matter how you try, you just can’t get it out. And your stomach feels like it’s going to explode. Ever had a thought that you just couldn’t verbalize? You know that frustration you feel? Multiply that times twenty. It frigging sucks. The dialogue scenes are the worst. Adderall isn’t even working anymore. (Maybe I should increase my dosage?)

Feeling decidedly behind the times, I’ve opted to increase my display resolution to the highest available setting: 1280×1024. Everything looked so freakishly small at first, but I’ve gotten used to it. Now I kind of like it. My site looks funky with it, though. There’s a weird gap of nothingness down the middle of the page between the two columns. I’ll fix it someday.

I’m gonna go grapple with Katherine’s Diary a little bit more, then I have to shower and get ready for a visit from my dad tomorrow morning, and the inevitable lecture about my life choices. I’m quaking with anticipation.

Comments, comments! Thank you Calítoe and Antoinette for your comments! Woohoo!

Let’s get outta here… Word to ya mutha.

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Spam guestbook entries are driving me effing crazy. Seriously, I get, on average, 20 entries a day. No, I do not want Antabuse, generic Cialis, or a larger penis. So eff the hell off.

When I logged into my WordPress and saw “0 comments awaiting moderation,” I became very sad. (Shame on you all!) However, my chagrin was forgotten in the next moment when I checked my email and found a PayPal notice with the subject: “Notification of Donation Received.” At that moment the clouds opened up and angels began to sing. I am elated. Calítoe, thank you so much for your generosity! Everyone else, please follow suit!

I woke up way later than I should’ve today, and felt like crap. I was supposed to go to a friend’s sex toy party (haha), but when I stumbled into the den my mom took one look at me and said I was in no shape to be operating buzzing weenies and nubby finger gloves, so I called in sick. (She didn’t actually say that, but wouldn’t it be awesome if she did?)

I want french fries.

I saw my website on Mom’s computer and ’bout shat myself. It looks awful! It side-scrolled to infinity, the sidebar was in the middle of the page (?!?!) with the main content at the bottom, all the image headers were missing, the cute little Space Needle rollover on the donate graphic didn’t work (I don’t even remember seeing a PayPal donate button), and the main navigation ran off the left side of the page, making it pretty useless. Granted, she uses IE 6 on a 800×600 res but still… I think a major optimization is in order. I use Firefox 3.0.10 on a 1024×768 res and the site looks great. I’m worried now. How are things on your computer? Please let me know!

The kooky neighbor across the street is really getting on my nerves. You know who you are, asshole! Restraining order!

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So, there was an accident in front of my house today (pictures below). Now, I had a voyeuristic streak before, and always did a 360 when our Dodge Durango would pass a wreck on the road, but ever since I changed bedrooms and now sleep in a room at the front of the house it’s gotten a little out of hand. My house is situated on a main Georgia highway, the busiest street in Metter. As you can see, behind my bed is a huge window which gives me a widescreen, high-def, IMAX experience of all the shit that goes down on a highway—including police action. I affectionately call it Cops Live.

I’m an insomniac. I seldom go to bed earlier than two in the morning. (When I try I can’t go to sleep—and why lay staring at the ceiling when you can get back up and get some shit done?) That’s how this sick fetish got started.

In the day, the sun overpowers any flickering intrusions from outside. At night, however, I’m a captive audience. Hubs lets out, some happy dipshit going down 121 in two lanes gets pulled over, those telltale red-blue lights start a-blinkin’, and my room becomes Studio 54. If that’s not an open invitation to look out the window, I don’t know what is. This can happen outside my window three or four times in a weekend. On Mardi Gras it happened three or four times in a night. I’m sure you can imagine how this could be addictive… the hypnotic lights, the distant feedback from the police radio, the sheer voyeuristic thrill. Look! That dude can barely stand up. Oh my god, they’re arresting him! Look at the crater in that guy’s car! There’s an ambulance! Oh my god, there’s a FIRE ENGINE!! I almost had a fit late one night when, I swear to god, every fire engine/ambulance/deputy/squad car in Metter was swarmed around a house three doors over like flies on excrement. Lights, water hoses, nosy insomniac neighbors standing in their front yards. The firemen even gathered in a morale huddle after it was all over. The newspaper made no mention of it. I still can’t pass by that house without looking for damage (amazingly, there is none that I can find). What the hell happened?

Now, by night or by day, the sight of oddly slow traffic outside, or a police car parked in the ditch, has me rummaging like a wild woman for my binoculars and darting to the nearest window. Today’s accident wasn’t so exciting, but while watching it I remembered this blog and thought, get the camera!

I’m so disappointed in myself. I didn’t do a damn thing today. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow, I suppose.

Comments, people, comments! Give me a warm hearty welcome back into the world of vanity web pages!

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YES!!!!  The day has finally come!

After five years on hiatus, Elly has returned to the blogosphere!  Things have certainly changed since then.  It feels weird writing this.  I’ll have to get back in the swing of blogging again.  But it will be better than it ever was.  *crosses fingers*  Count on it.

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