Everyday Goddess

My neck is OK!

OK, well, it has actually been driving me crazy for the last few weeks.  Crack, crack, crack.

But the MRI shows only mild arthritic developments and the prescription is icing at night and Advil. (I've been taking Tylenol, but apparently I need the aspirin in Advil.)

I have an appointment in a weekish where I'll learn some strengthening exercises and we'll discuss the ergonomics of sitting at a computer in the morning before work, and then at work, and then all evening. I think if I can get through this and back into yoga, I'll be doing much better.

So no bizarre condition, no neck surgery, and not even steroid shots.

Can't really beat that outcome.

Now, if only my neck would stop cracking...

Saying Goodbye to Target

I haven't been to Target since January 17, 2008 when I blogged Bullseye crotch! Get your bullseye crotch here! It wasn't a resolution, and I certainly don't expect I'm leading a charge. I know that stupid ad isn't on par with atrocities in Darfur or the rape epidemic in our military.

But the thing is, when contacted by a blogger, Target blew her off saying, "we are unable to respond to your inquiry because Target does not participate with non-traditional media outlets.  This practice is in place to allow us to focus on publications that reach our core guest." And I've just got a thing about being told I'm not an important customer. It makes me not want to be a customer.

Now, to be fair, I was already beginning to wonder about other options for the things I buy. It's such an operation to go to Target: the parking, the crowds, the size of the store, the checkout lines. I always spend more time and money than I planned, and I almost always end up buying things I didn't go in for. It's a whole figgin' operation, and sometimes you just need Woolite, you know?

I'd been thinking, surely there are other places to get the things you need.

A new Walgreens opened up by my house, and I was able to easily park, grab the few things I needed, and check out in just a few minutes. But the selection wasn't great.

I also tried Rite Aid, but I found it difficult to find things.

I went to K-Mart for a scale and found it simply completely unpleasant.

Today, I was at Empire Center in Burbank to eat lunch at Sharky's, and I needed Woolite, tall kitchen garbage bags, and white paper. The Woolite most, because I wanted to wash bras today, but I also knew I was low on printer paper, and there's nothing worse than needing to print something and not having paper. Would a Rite Aid have printer paper?

The Target was right there.

But you know, I'm just over Target. My whole body simply didn't want to deal with  it. Maybe I was looking for an excuse to break the Target habit, but now that it's broken, it's just broken. I knew I would drive by a drug store on the way home, and they would probably have Woolite, and if they didn't have paper I'd do a Staples run on my lunch break next week.

And then I found it. I thought, hey, I've never been in that CVS, and it looks a lot bigger than the Walgreens or the Rite Aid. Could it be just right?

The florescent lights hit me like rays from heaven over the wisely low shelves. Great selection, easy to find things, easy parking, no crowds. Totally enjoyable experience, and they had everything I needed. On the way to check out, I finally spied the batteries at the exact right time to remember that I needed a battery for my complex gate clicker. They even carry wine and beer.

So goodbye, Target.

Hello, CVS.

Happy Anniversary to Me and Hunky Actor Boyfriend!

One year ago today, ten days after we met and on either our third or fourth date, Hunky Actor Boyfriend and I went exclusive and added the "boyfriend" to "hunky actor." (Which makes me wonder what we added the "girlfriend" to!) It was way too fast, and I knew the "right" way was something like, I'm with you, but let's give it a month.

Yeah, right. We were all about getting each other right off the L.A. singles market.

And speaking of L.A., dating here can be tough. Half this town, present company included, clearly, is crazy. It's a hotbed of dysfunctional single people in constant mingle.

But since I've been here, I've also known that this is the only place in the entire world that I could be. And if this was the only place for me, then certainly the person for me was here, too.

And there he was.

So on this, our one-year anniversary, I thought I would mush you all out with a list of Ten Things I Love About Hunky Actor Boyfriend. Ahem.

1. Hello!: Hunky. And all the yummy things that go with that.
2. Actor. As a director, I love the knowledge and experience of acting that he shares with me.
3. Boyfriend. I love that I've found him, and he loves me back!
4. His voice. When he calls me he always launches into something or another without saying hello, and it totally makes me laugh.
5. His hair. He's going to kill me, but I do love his hair. So cute. Which makes me think of...
6. Metrosexual - Serious. Must. Have. I love that he looks nice when we go out.
7. Geeky - Don't tell anyone, but Hunky Actor Boyfriend has a bit of a geek streak.
8. Music - Almost since day one, Hunky Actor Boyfriend has been sharing music with me, which rocks. I'm not sure if that's quite how he feels about my mix CDs for him, however.
9. Work ethic - We've got dreams, and we do the work. So Key. I love that Hunky Actor Boyfriend inspires me to work harder.
10. Conversation. I've never met anyone I enjoy talking to so much about so many different topics, including, of course, entertainment, entertainment, entertainment.

I feel like I should have a new picture of us, but I don't. We're celebrating on Sunday because of his work schedule, so maybe I'll snap one then.

In the meantime, Yay Us!

iMac, Come Home!

OK, the iMac has been in the shop since Monday evening, and I have had enough! Last night I blogged on the laptop, and it was fun, fun, fun with the whole, type a sentence and then wait for your words to appear game. Click on anything and watch the spinning lollypop of this-is-going-to-take-twice-as-long.

It's not doing that this morning, interestingly enough. I guess I had a lot of tabs open last night. Heaven forbid anything need to load images or animation.

I've been thinking that I need to get a new laptop before BlogHer so that I can blog pics and video during the conference. I'm staying in the conference hotel for the first time ever and also a nice hotel for the first time ever. The first two BlogHers I stayed at the Motel Six and last year I stayed at the hostel, so blogging options were light, particularly since it took forever to even post one pic.

So a new laptop is on the agenda for this year, but I was really hoping to wait to buy it until right before the conference. I sent my tax return to a credit card and was hoping to pay down a chunk more debt before spending some again.

I know my situation's getting better, but like blogging on this 2001 iBook, the speed of progress is killing me.

I cannot believe how long I did my BlogHer work on this laptop.

I cannot believe I dropped off my computer without asking how long it would take.

I'll have to call today.

I really don't want to buy that new laptop this month. For one thing, I want to find out what's going on with my neck. When I carry the five pound laptop, I always feel it in my neck and sometimes it even tweaks it out. I can't walk the mile to the subway and back with the laptop because I will end up with a tweaked neck. So if the doctor says I really need to be more careful about what I'm carrying, I'm thinking maybe a MacBook Air would be a wise choice. On the other hand, it's a lot more money to buy one, and the iBook is more powerful.

On the positive side, now that I've had to blog on the laptop I know I do need a new laptop before BlogHer so that I don't go insane. But, I'm flat out not ready to make the purchase.

If the iMac's not back by Monday, I'm going to just have to stay at work late to do my blogging work. This iBook is a trooper, but it just isn't up to the task.

Man, I hope the iMac is back before the weekend. I'm going to call The Apple Store this morning.

My iMac slept at the Apple Store last night.

Monday night, right as I was just about to put it to sleep, my iMac flat out died. As though I had yanked the plug from the wall. It's probably (hopefully) the power supply. I ran it over to the Apple Store after work yesterday. Man, that store is full of shiny temptation. I resist you, iPod!

The miracle is that I have a backup computer. It's my 2001 iBook, and it is slooooow. But functional.

In a who-needs-pictures-and-video kinda way.

With a keyboard I like *so* much better - I really need to get a new keyboard for my iMac. The new one that came with it was apparently never tested on anyone with fingernails. Lame.

I love my iMac, but the keyboard and the mouse blow. I tried the one-button mouse for a day, but had to change it right out. I'm too much of a right-clicker. Which the Macs work great with a two-button mouse. I wish Apple would release one that matches my iMac. Until then, I use my trusty Logitech mouse and dream of replacing my keyboard.

Speaking of dreaming, Oh Chumby, how I covet you!

"Things To Do" foiled by "My Room Is Driving Me Insane."

I live in a nicely large two-bedroom, two-bathroom split master with a roommate. This is good. This makes my Los Angeles rent affordable and my living room/dining room party-able.

On the downside, my bedroom is the size of a peanut.

Years ago, I wanted the bathtub, and I wanted it to be easier to find a new roommate when necessary, so I picked the small room. The small, small room. Where I live with all of my stuff.

I just tested, and I can reach out and touch my bed while remaining seated at my desk. Which sits facing out right in front of (tiny) closet doors, so that when I really need to get something out of that closet, necessitating the removal of half the closet jigsaw puzzle, I have to move my desk chair and make an effort not to accidentally knocks my iMac off my desk. (Oddly, I have two closets, but neither is very big.)

The biggest problem with a tiny living space is that if you let even five magazines pile up, or drop one outfit on the floor, suddenly the room is a disaster area. Anything, and I mean anything you bring in, means something has to move out. In particular, ever since the beginning of this year I have really felt like my room is busting out at the seams.

And it's driving me crazy.

So, Queen of the Room Puzzle, I sit on my bed and try to think of any ways I can finagle minor relief. This weekend, it was moving a small, two-shelf, cabinet that was tucked behind my desk and in front of the closet doors (on an angle against the wall) into the living room hallway, tucked underneath the bar. I went through it and finally parted with a bunch of movies on video tape and basically any video tape that I could possibly part with. Making way for some CDs that were piling up on another shelf. I should sell some back to Amoeba, but I'm not feeling confident about my music backup.

I've still got 15 floppy disks I'm hanging onto. They're marked like, "stories" and "essays," and who knows how or when I think I'm going to access what's on them, but I can't part with them, apparently.

And then I had to figure out what I could put my printer on, if not that cabinet, because it won't fit anywhere else. I ended up putting a small 17" wooden bench together that I used to use to exercise (sigh). Thankfully, it was disassembled under the bed. Now the printer is lower and the closet is more accessible, and I was able to move back a halogen light that was really not working where it was squeezed between my armoire and my bed.

And then I realized that I put the cabinet where I keep the vacuum, which I hadn't realized as the vacuum was in my bedroom because I was using it. Still haven't quite figured out that conundrum.

This is probably pretty boring. My hell is so boring.

The point, though, is that I have a million more productive things to be doing this weekend, but here I am playing "go through my stuff one more time and take stuff to the thrift store." Which necessitates trying on skirts that I love that don't fit and deciding whether to part with them or not, and that blows.

I'm really unhappy with my weight and my lack of exercise and my lack of time to exercise.

I'm really starting to hardcore long for a washer and dryer that's not down in a parking garage, and a bedroom that's just a bedroom. Like I may start crying, I'm so frustrated.

Which is ridiculous, because I might as well long for a private jet and an elephant to call my own, so I have no choice but to get over it.

I keep thinking about getting a storage unit, but I don't want to spend the money, or the time to deal with it.

Still, at least this weekend I'm getting organized, and throwing out magazines and getting rid of some clothes that don't fit, and any minute now I'm doing laundry. I did watch my Netflix, and read some of the book I'm going to review next (The Blue Star), and I'm downloading and listening to some music recommended in It's a Jungle Out There: The Feminist Survival Guide to Politically Inhospitable Environments. Last download: Cut by The Slits, which is superfun. So, although I'm playing "I'm not looking at you" with my email inbox and Script Frenzy, I am, at the very least, being productive.

I just desperately wish there was anywhere else I could fit my hamper.

My neck is not OK.

OK, so after another interaction with the less-than-great doctor's office this morning and being told (incorrectly) that all my X-rays were fine, wherein I requested that the doctor send me an additional note, I got a call from my doctor. Who said that when she sent the note, she only had my left hand X-ray.

I refrained from asking why her office is so lame, because I preferred to focus on what she was saying about my health.

And, in fact, my neck is not OK. Two of my vertebrae are fused, and there is muscle spasm. So, I need an MRI on my neck to see what else they can see.

She asked me if I'm claustrophobic. Which I am.

But usually it's in crowds, and always when it's warm. Sometimes in parking garages. When I feel trapped.

Like I will probably feel inside a noisy medical machine.

But she assures me that it will, at the very least, not be warm. And weird as it may sound, that's really key.

I mean, I really have no idea what it will be like, and I am pretty unhappy about finding out.

It is interesting to me that I've never been able to do neck poses in yoga (e.g. rabbit) because I am overcome with claustrophobia and panic. I've also always thought that my claustrophobia originates in my neck somehow, or that I feel it there. There must be a relationship to whatever's going on.

Anyway, I have to wait to get paperwork in the mail, and then go, so I'm thinking maybe next week? I'm thinking of seeing if Hunky Actor Boyfriend can take me, but then, that also seems kinda silly because it's not like I need him to drive me, it's just because I'm freaked out.

My hands wakeup about 15 minutes after I do.

My lifelong theory about going to the doctor has been this: If I'm unconscious or delirious, please feel free to take me.

For years, I went once a year to the OB/GYN for my annual so that I could get my birth control renewed, and that was it.

The only exception was once I had my mother take me in to get my hearing checked, because I sometimes have a difficult time understanding speech. I told the doctor that I specifically had difficulty understanding consonants, particularly when there's background noise. That it wasn't volume, but understanding speech specifically.

He gave me your basic hearing test where they play the tones in your ears. He told me that I wasn't paying attention when people speak. He told my mother that I wanted attention.

Except here's the thing: There's few things I could have possibly wanted less as an undergrad than to admit to my mother that I needed to go to a doctor, much less go. To go to that appointment was all the effort I could take, though, so I dropped it. To this day, I'm half figuring out what people say when they speak.

Cut to the plantar fasciitis episode of 2006. Searing foot pain. Not fun. Of course, I had ignored the problem for months until the day I couldn't walk.

So when I began to notice that my hands felt stiff and asleep when I woke up and that I had trouble gripping things first thing in the morning, I decided to be proactive. Well, I waited like a month, but I finally made an appointment and went to the doctor. My gut instinct was to ignore it for as long as possible, but it is disconcerting and annoying, so I made the appointment.

And, I don't know. I was surprised to be the last appointment of the day at 4:30pm, and I felt rushed out. Further, she's an older physician, and I got that vibe like I used to get in Florida, like I'm 36 and so much healthier than someone who's 60+, so what could possibly be wrong with me. I got that vibe like she thought I was being a hypochondriac.

When in reality, I DO NOT WANT TO EVER GO TO THE DOCTOR EVER. Seriously, it's clearly better to just wait until you have a heart attack, because then there's no doubt and no choice.

Plus, you've got to think, do I really want to find a pre-exisiting condition before it's absolutely necessary?

But I went.

Arthritis hadn't occurred to me - I assumed it must be circulatory or my thyroid or something. But she clearly thought arthritis and sent me to get blood drawn (including thyroid tests to humor me) and X-rays taken. And it was all really willy-nilly, like I wasn't sure where to go or how things worked and the office was so unhelpful. But I figured it out and dragged my ass around town.

And the X-rays completely freaked me out. They took x-rays of my upper neck with this huge machine and the operator was asking me questions and I was like, "I don't know. All I know is that my hands are asleep in the morning."

So. Then I don't hear anything.

And I'm really over the whole thing.

But today I call the office, because after all that and I'm thinking WTF, they don't even call me? And I'm told that I'll get a paper in the mail from the doctor. Which I got today.

It's a form letter with boxes checked, and it says the test results are all within normal limits. Except under X-ray she wrote "left hand." And I had a right hand X-ray and extensive X-rays of my neck, too.

I don't know what to do.

On one hand, my hands are stiff in the morning.

On the other, now I'd REALLY REALLY rather just wait to have a heart attack.

And the wrinkle is, now I have this piece of paper that only acknowledges that she looked at my left hand X-ray, so did she looked at the other X-rays? So now I have to call so at least I can have a piece of paper that says that she looked at all my X-rays. For whatever good that does.

At least I know I don't have arthritis (in my left hand at least) or thyroid problems.

Just stiff sleepy hands and absolutely no desire to ever go to the doctor again.

But if I'm unconscious or delirious, please feel free to take me. That's really the only way to go.

The haven't-blogged-in-6-days update.

You know, I just get busy and into my head lately. This whole first quarter is really packed for me.

It's been a lot of watching films nominated for Spirit Awards and working on my ABC/DGA application and a little TV and a little board gaming and a little knitting. And a lot of reading. I really want to do a video review for the book I just finished, but I'm having a difficult time finding the time.

I haven't been do as much screenwriting as I'd wanted to, but I am doing it, and I wrote my first webisode for a concept I'm developing. I think I'm going to tear through that project; I'm going for five/six episodes (written) to start.

I went to a *totally* inspirational meeting of GRIT meeting on Saturday morning, in the beautiful Pacific Palisades.

My tiny bedroom floor is covered in sorted papers; my business taxes need to be filed by the end of the month. Dreading doing my taxes.

I'm doing something totally cool and fun in March that I'll be blogging about over at Everyday Goddess Does... (I'll let you know when I post there.)

The strike ending... Everyone in my bit of the industry is kinda quietly waiting. I get the sense that it hurt so damn much, no one really has it in them to throw a party about it. We just want the work to start back. We're all just waiting.

In short, I've been a little buried, and so sometimes, I could find the time to blog here, but my brain is just fried. I vote for the Spirit Awards on Wednesday, and my ABC/DGA application is due end of the month, so after February, things should loosen up. I've got my eye on March 1st, I'll tell you that.

I'm thinking of doing two weeks of South Beach Phase 1 in March, but I'm not sure if I've got it in me. I'll see how I feel when I get through February.

I've probably said this before, but when you've got too much going on, and it seems physically impossible that you will get it all done, the trick is to just keep moving forward. Even on the days you're sick or exhausted and moving at half speed, just do something. I was sick last Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, but I got my laundry done and sorted that paperwork and got through a couple other things. The papers aren't all fully put away, but even just know that my 2007 receipts and my W2s/1099s are pulled out and I know exactly where they are is increasing my sanity level.

No matter what, just keep moving, you know?

Then there's last night, where one beer someone left in my fridge inexplicably completely knocked me out, and I just went to bed at like 8:30pm. You need those times, too.

Where the hell have I been?

Wow, have I really not blogged since last Wednesday?

Thursday night, I went to a screening at The Egyptian of film shorts by female directors.  My favorites of the night were Jennifer Aniston and Andrea Buchanan's "Room 10" and Michelle Hung's "Chinese Dumplings".

Friday night, I took Hunky Actor Boyfriend out for dinner at Spark. Yum! And I left my mobile phone on their floor.

Saturday, I played boardgames all day at SoCal Gamesday.  Hannibal, Pirate's Cove, Carcassonne: Hunters and Gatherers, and 1960. No wins, alas. I also increased my game collection thanks to peeps selling their used games. I got a couple fantasy games I'm looking forward to checking out (in my spare time). Now that I don't play Magic, methinks there's been a distinctive lack of fantasy in my gaming.

After Gamesday, I went and got my phone - what a relief.

And today, I woke up after an awesome night's sleep - first in over a week - and "vacuum up the pine needles" on my list of things to do became "clean the entire living room/dining room, under the sink, and the linen closet". There was a lot to dust and vacuum, and I did some carpet cleaning. Exciting, I know.

You know, I also put away games, and clothes, and did some knitting, and grocery shopping, and watched some TV. Oh, and washed all the kitchen and bathroom rugs.

So yeah, no writing, but the cleaning really needed to be done.

Living off a freeway, I often think that it's the noise level that disturbed my sleep for over two years until I finally (mostly) got used to it or the carbon monoxide that sucks the most - but then sometimes I think it's really the dust that's the biggest pain.  It's unbelievable how dusty everything gets.

But, clean now.

Monday already?