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Sunday, May. 08, 2005 / 11:19 p.m. ~Did We Really Need Another Elvis Biopic?~ I watched most of the newest Elvis biopic tonight, missing some due to laundry folding, and email checking, and getting up every time commercials came on screen, etc., and it was good, mostly, but I questioned why in hell I was watching. I know the Elvis story inside and out, hell, I even dated an Elvis lookalike. Well, he looked a lot like him, was a huge fan, an obsessive fan, and was trying to start up his own musical career. I wonder where he is now. Last night I was thinking of him, considering Googling him. Hmmmmm... Also last night I decided to sleep in my bed again, which was sort of a mistake, mostly due to the fact I've not yet changed the comforter - the down is still on, and it's way hot under that thing, and I'm sort of 'hot flash'-y, not due to menopause, nor pre-menopause, but the PMS (yep, another glorious symptom), and because I'm not used to sleeping there, I couldn't fall asleep. So, I watched "Looking for Mr. Goodbar", again, and mostly because I couldn't remember who the guy was in the end. I remembered the end, and I sort of wanted to see it again, in a sick way, but mostly I just couldn't remember which actor it was, and then I couldn't exactly turn it off. Diane Keaton is mesmerizing in that role - and I read the book in college, before finally seeing it for the first time - so I know the story inside and out. Or so I thought. I read today, on the ever trusty Internet Movie Database (IMDB.com) that the book and movie were based on a true story, and somehow that I had missed. But, I woke up too early, after not sleeping well at all, the movie over around 5:00 or 5:30, and getting up to pee all night, and managed to get most of a full eight hours, only to spring out of bed with another bang, and I was cleaning my porch of two season's worth of pollen (Ew!) before even considering having my morning coffee. Oy, I vacuumed and cleaned, soapy water and sponge, paper towels and Windex, and it was filthy, just filthy. Pollen is nasty stuff - oh sure, all pretty and yellow at first, but it turns to dirt over time, gritty dirty dirt. It's nice now, and I've got the sliding glass door open still. I have an urge to go sit out there, just smell the night air, as it's been so beautiful all day and is beautiful still. I don't get how people already have their a/c units cranking when all they'd need to do is open a window and insert a fan to enjoy this weather. Lovely. (The Elvis wannabe I dated liked it cold inside, kept his a/c running continuously in summer, really, it never stopped.) Big day. Cleaned the porch, whoo hoo and such. Took pictures even. Couple loads of laundry, yawn, wrote a letter to the hiring person at TCM, attached my resume, and then re-read it, and re-read it, proofreading, sent it, read it again and found two typos. And I extol my auditing virtues right there on my resume, oh yeah, I'm so good, yada, yada, yada, hire me, and then I can't write a stupid cover letter. Ah, but my cover letters are unusual, no form letters here, nope, sincere, from the heart, I really want to work for YOU letters. Can't beat that. Can't hire that either. I'll find something, surely. My horoscope has been all about this new moon in my house of finance or some such, and today was supposed to be a prime day for venturing out to seek the riches I so deserve, which is why I bit the bullet and wrote the letter. No waiting around to see, it shall be off to the unemployment office tomorrow, separation letter in hand, and I really must research to find out where exactly it is I'm going. But for now, I have too much energy, which is weird, and three more "Guiding Light"s to watch. Oh, I wish I didn't have to work, I wish I didn't have to work, I wish I didn't have to work... she wrote, clicking the heels of her ruby red slippers together as she typed. Can't I have a Sugar Daddy or something? Or, I don't know, can't someone offer me a book deal, or pay me to sit here and type or something? I type fast. And I am normally good at proofreading, really. Especially if it's someone else's writing. I can edit too - I'm harsh, but a constructive critic. Ack. Okay, time to walk away again, I'm tired of sitting here - restless, antsy, only slightly worried, but this is the week I start to focus, and I'm trying to ready myself for the hunker down aspect. It's not like me, I'm a lazy ass. Which is why I spent seven years working a job I basically hated. Man, I can't believe that thing is over. Still, can't believe it. Cost of the War in Iraq
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