I knew I probably shouldn't have been mocking the rain and all the crazy reactions people here generate from it. Now my toilet's stopped up and my bathtub is leaking too. Not the thing I wanted to find out after I had hoped to spend a relaxing night at home but instead was writing articles and trying to catch up on work stuff until midnight. Karma's a bitch, ain't it? At least I have a date tomorrow night... Hopefully, maintenance will fix the problem in time and I'll be able to use my bathroom to get ready for it.

And now, please join us for a special news bulletin... "No, it wasn't a terrorist attack, but the droplets of water falling from the sky had just about as much of an effect on Angelenos today, as many Southland residents cowered in their homes, afraid to leave because of the torrent of rain falling from the skies. Susan?" "That's right, Harvey, one can't tell the massive effect this so-called 'rain' will have on the Southern Californian economy. There was a run on grocery stores when the precipitation began as people wanted to stock up, fearing that it may last for several days, and gas stations reported lines and high demand earlier as drivers filled up their cars in anticipation of the possibility of having to flee the area. Cub reporter Tricia Takanawa is on the scene in West Los Angeles. Trish?" "Thank you, Susan. As you can see behind me, this Ralph's grocery store parking lot is virtually empty. Only the truly hungry would venture out into this storm, because this rain is making the roads mostly impassable. In fact, if the cameraman would care to follow me... yup, over there... Susan and Harvey, can you see that?" "We can see it, Tricia... what is that? It looks like a small lake in the middle of the road." "It's called a 'puddle,' Harvey. It's when the precipitation collects in a dip in the road, and drivers must go through it. It's only an inch or two deep at most, but you have no idea the kind of havoc it can wreak on both the physical condition of a car as well as whether the driver will be able to maintain control." "Trish, is that a shopper I see behind you?" "Yes, it is, Susan, let me go over and talk to her... Excuse me! Ma'am! I'm Tricia Takanawa from Channel 12, I was just wondering... what prompted you to brave the elements to come out to Ralph's tonight?" "Well, I had a craving for chips and salsa, I had the chips but I was out of the salsa." "That's all?" "That's all." "Well, I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you feel the trip was worth it. Back to you, Harvey and Susan." "Thanks, Tricia. Up next, Weatherman Chet is going to tell us just how long this 'rain' will last and how much of it we should expect. He'll give you his guaranteed Water-Stoptime so you'll know when you'll be able to venture safely out of your homes again! Stay tuned..." [Ed. note: While this newscast obviously was a satiric figment of my imagination, the whole "only the truly hungry would brave the elements" line and the salsa exchange actually took place and was aired on the local NBC station's 11pm newscast the last time it rained here, which was a couple of weeks ago. Wish me luck as I brave the elements and avoid all the other people who freak out on the roads here when it rains...]

Among some of the random things I've said recently: - "Pop Tarts are great-tasting... well, the frosted ones are... but the nutritional value is somewhere close to eating mayo straight out of the jar." - Co-worker: "Guess who I got an e-mail from today?" Me: "God?" - After I asked a question where the answer was right in front of me and the answer was pointed out to me: "I'm sorry, I was being blind just then." - "It may not be rocket science, but even the rocket scientists get things wrong from time to time." - "Mom says I'm a unique snowflake." - "Yeah, but you don't see me putting on a mumu and dancing in traffic just because it might be fun, do you?" I think there's a distinct possibility that my sanity may have come into question.

So, President Moron is saying that war with Iraq would lead to peace. Well, duh. There's always peace after war, you dolt! Hell, there's peace right now, given that peace is the opposite of war. So going to war would break the peace. What I want to know is, on September 12, 2001, John Ashcroft, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld and our Fearless Leader stood in front of our country and swore up and down that we would catch the terrorists responsible for the attacks against our country, that Osama bin Laden was Public Enemy No. 1. Well, it's a year and a half later, and I still don't see Osama bin Laden in our custody, and we've changed focus to Iraq all of a sudden. Where's the connection? What happened to the promise to capture Osama and bring him to justice for all those lives he took? I swear, that lunatic in the White House is going to get us all killed.

Okay, so today has gotten off to a really screwed-up start, and I'm finding out that it's not just me. I'm beginning to develop a theory that there's a warp the space-time-karma continuum in California today, though I'm looking for people outside of this state to confirm that it's not just us. For example, this morning alone: - My site crashed - My co-worker got his first speeding ticket - I found that work I had done was not saved, so I had to do it over again - Eve got a call from a long-lost ex-boyfriend - I had to cancel my appointment this morning with my physical therapist because after half an hour (when I should've already been at the office), I was still sitting in traffic several miles away and wouldn't have made it on time - Another co-worker got into a fight with management I think it's time to go home, climb into bed and cower there with the covers over my head until Friday.

The longest minute of the morning is the minute before your alarm clock goes off but you've already woken up, and you're lying in bed in that half-asleep/half-awake kind of haze and just dreading the inevitable click to signal the fact that the infernal machine will begin blaring at you and you realize you have to get out of bed and start your day. I hate waking up before my alarm goes off, especially when I don't have to. All I have to say is, I don't have to get up until 11am tomorrow, I better sleep until 11.

- Last night, I went to the Sunset Strip for the second time this week -- this time to see Ben Kweller. Rawk. If you had told me two years ago that I'd be doing now what I'm doing now, I'd have laughed at you and then said, "Really?" in a very interested tone of voice. I already know how I'm going to write my review of the show, and it's going to begin somewhat along these lines: "All of us radio geeks have an inner rockstar (hell, I admit it -- I have one too), one that was carefully kept inside in high school but we always wanted to let out to show our fellow classmates that we really were awesome and could kick ass like the cool kids. Ben Kweller is lucky enough to have made a career out of letting his inner rockstar loose. You'd have never thought it possible that this skinny little 21-year-old kid with long, scruffy hair that made him look like the main character from Almost Famous and wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the words 'Carlsbad Caverns' that would've gotten him beaten up had he worn it to school would take to the stage and rock so hard. He let his inner rockstar command the performance, and the crowd loved him for it." - I must rather like this girl who I went out with on Friday. After coming home at 12:45am from the show last night, I was dead tired and ready to just fall into bed. But there was this tiny little voice in the back of my head urging me to clean something, so I got up and scrubbed the bathroom floor with a sponge and cleanser and also cleaned the toilet. Yes, that late at night; yes, despite my fatigue. Damn it, old habits are rearing their ugly heads again, since I always clean whenever I get stressed about women. - My roommate is down in San Diego for the weekend at a bachelor party, so he asked me to feed his turtle while he was away. I have come to the revelation that turtle food pellets stink to high heaven. Like bad enough to be able to qualify for the description, "they stank." - On a serious note, the aftereffects of the club fire in Rhode Island could be felt all the way out here in California. Last night at the Roxy, the paths to the exits were clearly marked with white tape and the aisles were kept clear by security guys. I've been a fan of 94HJY (the station who was promoting the event, one of their DJs introduced the band and died in the fire) for around 15 years now. I didn't know the DJ who died, but I know the station's program director -- one of my co-workers spoke to him on Friday and said he, normally a very upbeat and even-keeled person, was very shaken, as was everyone else at the station. But HJY's afternoon guy had a good point (I was listening online on Friday): this kind of thing could happen anywhere, and do you automatically map out the exits to whatever enclosure you're in whenever you walk inside? When you walk into a Macy's or a Sears, do you know how to get out of the store in case of an emergency?

- Last night, I went to the Sunset Strip for the second time this week -- this time to see Ben Kweller. Rawk. If you had told me two years ago that I'd be doing now what I'm doing now, I'd have laughed at you and then said, "Really?" in a very interested tone of voice. I already know how I'm going to write my review of the show, and it's going to begin somewhat along these lines: "All of us radio geeks have an inner rockstar (hell, I admit it -- I have one too), one that was carefully kept inside in high school but we always wanted to let out to show our fellow classmates that we really were awesome and could kick ass like the cool kids. Ben Kweller is lucky enough to have made a career out of letting his inner rockstar loose. You'd have never thought it possible that this skinny little 21-year-old kid with long, scruffy hair that made him look like the main character from Almost Famous and wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the words 'Carlsbad Caverns' that would've gotten him beaten up had he worn it to school would take to the stage and rock so hard. He let his inner rockstar command the stage, and the crowd loved him for it."

- I must rather like this girl who I went out with on Friday. After coming home at 12:45am from the show last night, I was dead tired and ready to just fall into bed. But there was this tiny little voice in the back of my head urging me to clean something, so I got up and scrubbed the bathroom floor with a sponge and cleanser and also cleaned the toilet. Yes, that late at night; yes, despite my fatigue. Damn it, old habits are rearing their ugly heads again, since I always clean whenever I get stressed about women.

- My roommate is down in San Diego for the weekend at a bachelor party, so he asked me to feed his turtle while he was away. I have come to the revelation that turtle food pellets stink to high heaven. Like bad enough to be able to qualify for the description, "they stank."

- On a serious note, the aftereffects of the club fire in Rhode Island could be felt all the way out here in California. Last night at the Roxy, the paths to the exits were clearly marked with white tape and the aisles were kept clear by security guys. I've been a fan of 94HJY (the station who was promoting the event, one of their DJs introduced

I hate the fact that I always overanalyze things, especially when it comes to first dates. On a different note, many many thanks to Eve, who not only upgraded me to MT 2.62, she also manually imported every single one of my archived entries from Greymatter. So I have a past now, it extends all the way back to when I first moved off Blogger, and you can read all my archives. Eve rules!

Exactly one year ago tonight, I pulled into Southern California, driving a car full of my belongings, scared halfway to death about the prospect of finding a place to live and meeting new people in a strange and completely foreign city all the way on the other side of the country from where I had spent my entire life. It's a little hard to believe I've been here this long and weathered it so well, especially since people back East had confessed to me that they thought I was the kind of person who didn't like change all that much. I remember one of my friends (someone out here who is also a transplant from Boston) telling me that the first year is the hardest in L.A., and I have survived it with flying colors.

As a result, for a public service announcement, I have compiled this list in the usual genre of Things I Have Learned: The SoCal Edition.

- Traffic here really can be as bad as everyone thinks it is. But that's only because a lot of people out here don't know how to drive. When in doubt, avoid the freeways. Unless it's somewhere between 11pm and 4am.
- I wish they all could be California girls. Seriously. It's like survival of the hottest out here. There are a ton of gorgeous women here. And I want one.
- Stereotypes are true to some extent, and they wouldn't have been formed unless there was some truth to them. There are a decent number of plastic and rude people out here. But there are also a decent number of very cool people, and I'm very lucky that I've found a lot of cool people.
- Contrary to popular belief, things in Los Angeles are not open 24/7 like in New York as I had thought. The bars here close at 2am, just like in Boston, and some do last call even earlier, the losers. But at least the supermarkets are open 24/7.
- The liquor. Dear Lord. Coming from a Puritan-based society, being able to buy liquor in the supermarkets, the drugstores, the convenience stores, the gas stations... it's amazing. They even advertise it in the drugstore circulars -- "not only do we offer over-the-counter hangover remedies, we also offer more liquor to ease the pain!" And I can buy it on Sunday. Look, all you blue-law-abiding folks back East, I'm buying liquor on Sunday, and God isn't smiting me!
- It's pretty disorienting when it's sunny and 65-75 degrees every single day of the year. I was writing the date down the other day and wrote "June" instead of "February" because it felt like June. I have lost all track of time because there are no seasons here. Seeing Christmas lights on palm trees and Santas dressed in shorts was pretty odd, too.
- It's always a little surreal when you hear about things your entire life and then experience them on a daily basis. The Sunset Strip always seemed so glamorous... until I started going there weekly for shows.
- Yes, Virginia, there really is a subway here in Los Angeles. I've seen it. I've ridden it. I think it's the dumbest thing ever that they built a multi-million dollar subway and then didn't put turnstiles in because they just kind of figured on blind faith that people will buy tickets to recoop construction costs and use them rather than just walking on the trains without buying the tickets.
- I think I'm starting to develop That Fear that I will die in The Big One. (Earthquake, I mean, not the Bomb. Stop watching 24, it's warping your view of reality.)
- Did I mention the gorgeous women?
- Yes, I live three blocks down and one block over from the infamous O.J. house where he killed his wife. Oops, I can't say that he killed her because he was acquitted, can I?
- I still need to learn how to surf and play guitar in order to cross them off my Grandmaster List of Things To Do Before I Kick Off.

I'm sure there's more, but I was woken up at 7am this morning by someone honking their car horn out in the street, so my brain's not running on all cylinders at the moment. Happy anniversary to me...

I like musicals and I've seen a fair amount of them, I even acted in one. But I have to completely suspend reality when I see them because in what plane of existence do people really spontaneously break into song and dance in perfect harmony and choreography with an unseen orchestra backing them up?

My problems with The Bachelorette:

1. That "cute" voice Trista was using? It annoyed the fuck out of me. I was ready to punch a hole in the TV set after she spoke that way like twice. No more. Not a way to lure a guy in. If I were on the show, no matter how bad it would make me look, I'd tell her, "Look, you have to stop speaking that way. It's really aggravating."

2. The big problem I have with these shows -- all these love-based reality shows -- is that they spend maybe a couple of weeks together and they're in love? Ryan even admitted that he and Trista had four dates, and he's already in love with her. I can't honestly believe that a bunch of TV show producers can arrange such a perfect match between people so quickly. If they were really that good in the ways of romance, they should start a dating service. They'd make millions. Reality love-based shows are like dating for people with A.D.D. -- meet and fall in love in only four dates!

3. She is the star of the show, she's been narrowing down her selections, she chooses the final guy, and he has to propose? Helloooooooo, non-equality!

4. How many of these couples actually wind up together in real life? Marriage is an institution that I think is being taken a bit too trivially these days. Too many people are going into marriage with the attitude of "Eh, if it doesn't work out, we can always get divorced." The couple from the last Bachelor is already breaking up -- also on national TV.

5. Leave it to the Associated Press to ruin all the fun. They ran a story on the wire at 8:30pm Pacific Time with the results of the show, just like they did on Monday with Joe Millionaire when they posted the ending before the West Coast feed even began.

Scene.

Location: A Starbucks caffeinarium in Century City, CA
Setting: Late afternoon, Tuesday
Players: Me, a co-worker, and one of those metal Starbucks all-weather no-spill mugs that a third co-worker (who was not present) asked us to fill with a "fruity" drink (his words, not mine)

Me: Check this mug thing out. It's indestructible.
Co-worker: You could throw it at the wall, and I bet the wall would dent and not the cup.
Me: Yeah... I could probably fight crime with this thing. I may not look as hot as Jennifer Garner, but I could kick some ass with this mug. It's hardcore and superstrength.
Co-worker: I hear that NASA has contracted to Starbucks to build the next space shuttle out of these things.
Me: [laughing] ... we are so going to Hell for that. Thank you, you've guaranteed my entry into Hell for today. Let's do this again in a few hours and see if we can't work on tomorrow's daily affirmation of why I'm being sent to Hell, shall we?

End scene.

- What was the best thing before sliced bread? Why was sliced bread nominated to be the benchmark for the saying, "It's the best thing since sliced bread"?
- How pissed do you think Fox is that the Associated Press published an article at 7:30pm Pacific Time giving out the results of Joe Millionaire?
- I think I'm going to try to get some corporate sponsors. I figure it's a good way to get some extra money. I mean, I'll have to interrupt conversations every now and then with things like, "Oh, by the way, my participation in this conversation is brought to you by Washington Mutual," or I'll have to put things on my submitted work to my co-workers that read, "This article is brought to you by In-n-Out Burger."
- Speaking of corporate sponsors, who're the whiz kids who suggested, approved and hired Terry Bradshaw -- a balding man (and a damn annoying one at that) -- to hawk SuperCuts, a haircutting chain?
- I have no idea why car chases are so popular on Los Angeles TV news shows. It's not like people are watching the news in their cars on their way home and able to see what roads are being blocked off by police because they're chasing someone.

On mild hiatus, back in a little while. Regenerating. Resting. Regrouping. Relaxing. Rebuilding. Sleeping. Lots of sleeping. Catching up. Fixing. More sleeping.