Let's Blog It Out, Bitches

When I went to see David Cross at The Paramount...when was it...last winter? Spring? Anyway, when I went to see him, he showed the audience the first five minutes of the first episode of the creatively and totally accurately titled series he'd just completed filming, "The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret." Those first five minutes nearly made me pee my pants (mostly because Will Arnett fucking CHEWS UP the dialogue and spits it out like a rancid sunflower seed), so I was SUPER excited for this thing to come out.

But then months and months and months went by, and nothing.

Until tonight on IFC when the series finally premiered. Oh. My. Sweetkittensinheaven, people. Watch this show. It is completely fucked up and clever and irreverent. It is The Ugly American hopped up on horrible Korean energy drinks compulsively lying and trying to get laid. In London. Yes, it really is that good.

Speaking of comedy, my writing workshop started last night, and I think it's going to be good. I think I'm going to write the great American memoir/novel/screenplay and earn jillions and jillions of dollars!! (Cue laughter. See? COMEDY!!) But seriously, the only reason I'm really taking this is to have an excuse (and dedicated time) to exercise my writing muscle. Who knows what (if anything) will actually come out of it. But I will say this: If you don't know Spike Gillespie, you should. She's pretty fucking cool.

Switching gears now: I guess since The Social Network  is premiering tonight, it is appropriate to state the following:

If you follow my blog (there are like 9 of you, I think) and aren't yet my friend on Facebook, please feel free to "friend" me. My name is Marla Camp. But there are two Marla Camps in Austin, so beware. (Even though the other Marla Camp is really cool.)

But please PLEASE don't friend me if you passionately agree with any of the following statements (because I am highly likely to offend you. Repeatedly.):

--Women are not funny and, in no way, know how to rock.
--People choose to be gay and should therefore be ostracized/vilified for their "decision".
--Your religion is the one "true" religion, and everyone else is fucked.
--No one should curse. Ever.
--George Bush was a phenomenal president. Maybe one of our best...and smartest.
--Hummers are awesome vehicles.
--Toby Keith and Justin Bieber represent the pinnacle of American musical talent.
--Whether or not a woman becomes pregnant and/or carries a pregnancy to term is NOT something she should be allowed to decide.
--Pot should never ever ever ever be legalized under any circumstances.
--Southerners are, for the most part, kind of retarded
--Women shouldn't be priests/cut their hair/wear pants or shorts/work outside the home/learn to drive/shave their legs/swim in public/wear makeup, or leave the house when menstruating. And they should probably just go ahead and wear a burka, just to be safe.
--Sarah Palin represents the exciting future of American politics.
--Botox is the answer.
--Evolution is bullshit.
--Texans suck.
--Kittens/Puppies and other animals are not worth getting mushy over and/or talking about.
--Fox News is fair and balanced.
--Celibacy for Catholic priests makes TOTAL sense.
--Assertive women are bitches.

Hope to see you on the interwebs!!

The Wind In My Hair And Snot In My Head

The purchase of Klaus (that's my new car's name) coincided with two things: the first cool front of the autumn season (Yay!) and a spike in the mold/ragweed that's in the air. So yes I've been riding around with Klaus's top down whenever possible, but the result is that I'm 80% dead due to hardcore seasonal allergies. From the neck up, I'm just a big ol' glob of snot encased in a skull. Sunday--the first day after enjoying Klaus--I woke up and, literally, couldn't speak because my throat was so fucked up. I got some OTC meds, dosed myself, and suffered through the day, only to end up going to bed at 5:45pm, full of NyQuil. It helped. I'm functional now, but really, really gross sounding.

Let's see, what else...

Oh yes! Last night Jaye and I went to Stubb's to see Pavement. We were so lame, we left about an hour into the show, and ended up getting home at 9:45pm. I've pretty much decided that, unless I truly, deeply, insanely love a band, I don't want to go to any more "sold out" shows at Stubb's. It's just NOT enjoyable being crammed into that venue with that many other humans. Especially when the humans you're crammed in there with are all smoking and fairly drunk. It was just an annoy-a-thon from the get-go. And although I really like Pavement, I don't LOVE LOVE LOVE them like I do some other bands, so it just wasn't worth the hassle to stay to the end of the show. Luckily, the next five shows I have tickets to are seated.

I am old. There, I said it.

When I arrived home in my neighborhood after last night's show (top down, of course), there were still news trucks, police cars, and rude-ass gawkers standing outside of this guy's house. Yep. He lived on my street. Sad story. All of it.

Tomorrow night, Bookhart and I are beginning a 6-week writing workshop led by the wonderful Spike Gillespie. I'm beyond excited. I'm hoping it will help me get (what's left of) my mojo back. Plus, the idea of just having 2 hrs. a week dedicated to being creative and getting to hang out with Bookhart as well just makes me way happy.

To celebrate our 2nd anniversary, I booked a little house on the river near the charming little town of Wimberly for a long weekend. It looks adorable, sits on 25 acres, and has 500+ feet of riverfront. Can't wait.

Finally, it looks like my mom and this man she's been dating for several months are getting pretty serious. They're talking marriage. I'm happy for her and am looking forward to getting to know him better. I'm not sure how well The Geej is going to take having to share her precious Dah's affections for the first time ever, but I'm sure she'll adjust. Speaking of The Geej, she is digging Klaus. She said she wantst to grow her hair long enough to put in a ponytail while she's cruising around in the back seat.

That kid...

The Devil Kicked That Angel's Ass.

I am so very weak.

But so very happy.

Good vs. Evil

I am not what you would call irresponsible with money. I sock away dollars from each and every paycheck for my 401(k), a Roth IRA, the Geej's college fund, a savings account for my goddaughter, my regular old savings account and a high-dollar life insurance policy that will take care of BH and The Geej should I ever kick the bucket. No one taught me to do this. It's just something that I've always done. I'm a "rainy day" kind of gal. But the very FEW times I've been an idiot with my money, I've had a helluva lot of fun.

Like this one time, pretty soon after I'd graduated from college, I was totally unemployed and had been for months. I was doing some lame ass temp work, but had no permanent prospects anywhere on the horizon. So what did I do? Pulled out the credit card and booked a trip to Seattle to visit my friend Julie who'd moved there a few months prior. I remember the distinct feeling of "I really shouldn't do this" followed quickly by the uncommon feeling of "You know what? FUCK it! I'm doing it!" I booked that sucker, and went and had a blast. We even took an excursion to Vancouver, B.C. (back when a driver's license could get you over the border and back in, no problemo). In fact, I was having so much fun (and had no real commitments to get home to) that I wasn't ready to leave when the time come, so I called and changed my ticket so I could stay a couple more days. And yes, I charged the change fee to my credit card. It took my unemployed ass a LONG time to pay off that trip, but I still remember it fondly.

And each and every time I've gone to Vegas and blown money gambling and on expensive dinners, it wasn't all that responsible of me, but I had a great time, so it didn't bother me too much.

I am by no means perfect, but I'm pretty damn solid when it comes to my finances, and that's something I'm proud of.

So when I start to struggle with something totally frivolous and impractical that I want--something irresponsible that will cost a pretty penny--it is torturous. It's literally like there is a cartoon devil sitting one shoulder and an angel on the other battling it out in my mind.:

"Don't do it Karla May! You'll be sorry!!"

"Dooooooo eeeeeeeeeeeet! It'll be so much fun. It's WORTH it, and you only live once."







The cause of my current struggle?

Yes friends: It's a Volvo C-70 convertible. Isn't it drool-worthy? Yes. Yes it is.

See, I've had convertible fever (CF) for some years now, but I've managed to keep it pretty much in check. I've been known to rent a convertible on occasion to get over a particularly bad spell of CF, and that usually works. For a while. But I'm worried that this current case I've got may do me in.

I'll admit I troll around on Carmax.com from time-to-time looking at what kind of convertible inventory they've got available. You know...just for fun. But this past weekend, I couldn't help myself. I went and took a test drive of a pale blue 2006 Volvo C-70 that had less than 30,000 miles on it. Now mind you, I am in NO POSITION WHATSOEVER to purchase a car. Plus, my current vehicle--which is awesome--is a 2008, so I knew going in that there was no way I was going to try to buy this particular car. But it was SO FUCKING GORGEOUS I had to go and take it for a spin. Which I did. And there are no words to describe how bad I've got the CF now. I am so in love with this make/model of car, it's borderline psychotic. I. Want. One. Like, NOW!! And the little devil just keeps whispering "Do eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet" in my ear. But the angel--practical, level-headed bitch that she is--keeps pulling me back from the brink by whispering disturbing things about "debt" and "lack of job security" and "double dip recession" and "mid-life crisis" in my ear.

I hate that damn angel. She's a real buzzkill.

So, for now at least, I'm going to keep driving and paying on my Practical Small 4-Cyl. SUV. BORING!! But someday, my friends. Someday the devil's gonna win this one.

Le Sigh

August is by far my least favorite month of the year. It's always so fookin' hot and (usually) everything is burned up and dying and brown and crispy. It's just part of living in Texas, but it sucks. Its days are long and relentless, and--as if to seriously fuck with me--it seems like the universe always ensures that August is also insanely busy (both personally and professionally). So I am never EVER sad to tear turn the calendar over and see September looking back at me. But it's an utter mind fuck. Even though the kids are in school and football has started and pumpkins and Halloween candy are appearing in the stores, it's STILL so damn hot.

August pisses me off, but September? September just depresses me.

And so here we are.

I am melancholy, tired, headachy, and generally disgruntled, and I blame it ALL on September.

At least I've got tickets to a lot of live performances by bands/comedians I love coming up between now and mid-November:
The Pixies
Pavement
Sufjan Stevens
Aziz Ansari
Ray LaMontagne/Levon Helm
Tim and Eric's Awesome Show
Louis C.K.

So...you know...yay.

I am not psychic.

There is a lot up in the air in my life right now, and most of it has to do with my work situation. I won't bore you with the gritty details, but basically the future of my small team--what we do and how we do it--is being discussed in Meeting Rooms by Head Honchos this week. We know change is coming, but we don't know how drastic the changes will be or what we'll look like as a team in two weeks...two months...two years. Normally, I would find all of this uncertainty very upsetting, but I'm actually pretty chilled out about it, and I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing.

Here's what I DO know:
--I have worked for this company for more than FIVE TIMES longer than I've worked anywhere else.
--Over the past two years, my team has been through some pretty intense shit team-dynamic wise. It was not fun or pretty. But we all learned a shit-ton from it, and we're all better and smarter because of everything went down.
--Since my team's creation (in late 2003), our company has never been quite sure what to do with us. Our existence was something that employees wanted, but not necessarily something the company leadership knew how to support. We've had to figure out everything for ourselves along the way. We've had some stunning successes and some dismal failures and some just-plain-meh outcomes, but thankfully, the successes have been the most plentiful.
--I am insanely proud of the people on my team and the work we've created.
--Sometimes I get to be very creatively engaged and challenged at work, and that is fucking awesome.
--I get to laugh a lot at work.
--My team has been with me through a foriegn adoption, two brushes with cancer, surgeries, illness, marriage and lots and lots of work drama. They've seen me at my strongest and weakest, and because of that, I feel like they're part of my family and would do almost anything to support them and keep them safe.

So whatever happens to this thing we've given our blood, sweat, and tears to to create, we'll be okay. I'm not psychic, but I'm sure.