Don't judge a book by its alcohol content

Ahhh Christmas.  A time for drinking.  I always become slightly alcoholic at Christmastime.  What ever did I do before I turned 21? I'm sure I was miserable, although I can't really remember so I must have blocked it from memory.

my glass is on the left

This Christmas was a bit different.  No, not any less boozy.  In fact, maybe even more boozy. But usually it is just me, my folks and my brother.  This year, we had nearly a dozen including some soon-to-be extended family.  Recently my brother got engaged; I was going to meet her for the first time and also meet her brother.  Before the trip I was asking my bro about her bro and even though I must have gotten a pretty good description (the two boys are such good friends they braid each other's hair), for some reason the only two things that stuck in my memory banks were "smokes" and "likes to shoot guns." Now, I actually like to shoot guns (I've only done it a couple of times but boy was it strangely fun) but for some reason I created this vision of him in my head:

Now maybe this is the booze talking, but the guy I met was really smart, funny, sweet, charming and quite handsome.  What the hell kind of description did my brother tell me? Who knows, but it coulda been better.  I'd have packed something other than my usual bright-red-christmas-leftover-from-the-early-90s pants and light-up antler headband. Wait, now I'm feeling like a back woods country hick... Trying to impress my soon-to-be-brother-in-law-twice-removed? *shakes head* Time to detox my liver and get back to LA. ...Juuust in time for new year's eve, the last booziday (for those of you on the short bus that's booze and holiday combined into one word) of the year.  Which, incidentally, makes the first day of your new year one of headache, nausea, and laying on the couch cursing that sweet devil-friend alcohol.  Where's your resolution now, huh? Now go fix mommy a drink.

just puked in my mouth a little

here's an excerpt from an online dating profile of a real winner:

The six things I could never do without Sparkling water, internet, blow jobs, music, Jack Purcell's, white t-shirts, side boob (oops that's 7)

lord give me strength... telling me that you can't live without BJs doesn't exactly entice me to give you one. and side boob? somehow that makes it all even worse.  eww...

***

Please, pretty please put your dick back in the box.

you're listening to radio KWTF

I hope I'm not bursting anyone's bubble, but one of my favorite gigs is "live" radio shows.  You know on morning shows when they have listeners call in and air their dirty laundry? Many times that is not real... those are actors improvising a setup thought up by some producer.

*POP*

Today I got to "call in" to a radio show in Southern California and say that my "husband" bought me a treadmill on Amazon for Christmas and I know this because the confirmation email came to me and I am upset because I don't want a treadmill.  Now sometimes you get to chat with the DJs for a while and sometimes it is quick.  I had a whole back-story planned: I mentioned to my sister that I was thinking about starting to workout and my husband must have overheard.  I can appreciate the lengths he went to to find an original gift that I might actually like, but does he secretly think I'm fat? Is he giving me a hint? He must not be attracted to me anymore. Doesn't he know that treadmills are expensive and I would rather have had a vacation??? And does he not know that our place is small??  We don't have room for a treadmill.  If he really wanted to buy me something insulting a gym membership would have been better; at least that is something that I would use. Jeez.

Ooooh snap. (sassy hair whip)

Sadly, I think the bit was about 90 seconds and I barely even got out the explanation of why I knew that he bought me the treadmill.  All that back story for nuthin'.

Well, if any of you are in SoCal tomorrow listening to morning radio and hear a familiar story, you'll know it was because my husband is a complete ass and doesn't realize you never buy a woman an appliance for christmas.

that's a fake smile if I ever saw one/going to withhold sex for two months

mmm... cake.

there's always those random jobs, where you think, how on earth does a person find out about that opportunity?? Things like this:

I imagine the interview process is something like this:

Interviewer: It says here on your resume that you have experience attending surprise parties, pulling the old "tap-someone-on-the-other-shoulder gag," and have frequently use the word "sike!" in your vocabulary, but I don't see any experience with baked goods.  How would your previous experience lend itself to your having success in this position?

Potential hire: Well, I know I'm rather inexperienced in this exact position, but I feel that the cumulative results of my previous work will give me a solid platform on which to build a new skill set and enhance my current skills.

Interviewer: Let me ask you how you would react to this situation, because this has actually happened before.  You pop out of the cake, and you get icing in your eye.  What do you do?

Potential hire: Oh wow, that's a tough one.  Well, I am a huge proponent for follow through.  I don't let a little something such as a hiccup in the plan get in my way.  I would simply close that particular eye and let the tears do their work.  I would rather have a few streams of ocular-aquatics down my face than ruin someone's special moment.  I am deeply committed to a strong work ethic.  The show must go on, as they say.

Interviewer: Wonderful! Well, we are seeing a few other applicants this week.  I can't say anything officially, but let's just say I have a good feeling about you.  We will be in touch.  ...

bragging rights

Can I just say that I LOVE being in "the industry" this time of year? Free movies galore! Oooh-la-la!

You fancy, huh?

Here are some highlights:
- screening of the tv show Revenge followed by a Q&A with the cast (I heart Madeline Stowe!!)
- screening of the movie The Sessions followed by a Q&A with John Hawkes and Annika Marks. Do yourself a favor and watch this movie.  Helen Hunt and John Hawkes give award-worthy performances.  Like whoa. (Plus Helen Hunt gets all nakies and she is hottt for 49 years old.  She's hot for 29. Damn. I only hope I can look that good someday...)
- screening of the movie Argo followed by Q&A with Bryan Cranston (who you might know from Malcolm in the Middle or Breaking Bad ).  He just seems like the nicest guy you'd ever meet, like the guy you'd always want to have at your dinner party because he is so smart, humble, funny and could even hold a conversation with your persnickety old Aunt Myrtle.

- and my piece de resistance, where I literally almost had two friends stop speaking to me because I did not invite them as my plus one... Les Misérables followed by a Q&A with the director Tom Hooper and the actor that played Marius Eddie Redmayne. I die! I die!!!!!! I could just go on and on about how AMAZEBALLS this movie is.  Just you wait it will clean up at all of the award shows.  So good! (Remember to bring a kleenex.  Or three.)

Don't hate

On a side note, the idiot moderator kept referring to Eddie as the "breakout star" of the movie.  Uhmmm he's already won a Tony and been nominated for an Emmy. Not to mention he's also won a Critic's Circle award and way back in 2004 won something called the Evening Standard Outstanding Newcomer Award. *eyeroll*

Here's what I love about Q&A's.  You get to "meet" some of your idols and see what they are like in "real life." Here's what I dis-like/hate about them.  The moderators are (almost always) idiots and say really stupid stuff either fluffing the ego/embarrassing the person being interviewed or ask some equally stupid question nobody in the audience gives a shit about.  And there's always at least one person in the audience who doesn't really have a question to ask, but just likes the sound of their own voice and so they just blather on with nondescript compliments "that was really great" or "you were awesome" until they finally come up with something to ask or the moderator finally cuts in with "did you have a question?"  Or, their dad/mom/auntie/great-grandpa/friend-from-elementary-school was famous once and they want to tell everyone in the audience. Either way, completely annoying.

*side-side-note I did not get the weemen's gym job.  She said she would call me to let me know; she did not. I called and left a message to follow up and got no reply.  Meh.  Whatevs. 

well hellooooo ladies...

Got myself a job interview at a women's only gym.  (or as my dad would say, 'weeeeemen's gym,' pronounced like Oscar Mayer's 'wiener')  even though the last time I worked at a gym I gained weight and was completely micro-managed.  I interviewed with the assistant manager lady and seemed to win her over, although the interview was über-short and felt like she was rushing through it.

She ended the interview by letting me know she would be seeing some other applicants, and would let me know by next Monday.  Why do I feel like I shouldn't be holding my breath?

On a side note, I had to wait a bit in the lobby before my meeting, and I got a look at the clientele... let me just tell you it is most certainly NOT the ladies-only gym of men's fantasies.  The women I saw coming and going were mostly average-sized to overweight and with a few exceptions, all over 40.  PLEASE know that I am not hating on these women! Good for them that they are taking care of themselves and making time for their health.  I'm just saying it's ... well, it is what women would expect a women's only gym would be.

Bahahahahaha! Ha! Ahem. 

Yes.  but maybe less makeup and hairspray.  and after a year's membership. 

Who knows, maybe I'll get the job and look like the lady in the first picture.  Gills and all...

lets all give thanks

Thanksgiving this year meant my brother (once again) got off scott free since he lives in BFE and "has to" work during the holidays.  Lucky bastard.  I cannot remember the last thanksgiving he actually had to spend with the family.

I know, I know, this is supposed to be a time we are all thankful for the time we get to spend with our loved ones, but as every family sitcom ever told us, it is actually a time of eating our feelings and overexposure to people you love because you have to.

"The Neighbors"

"The New Girl"

"The Middle"

Now, my mother is what I affectionately call the "Tour Guide." Every time she comes to town she is armed to the hilt with a file folder full of magazine clippings, printings from the internet, newspaper articles, and scribbled notes of things to do in town.  I've lived in Los Angeles for a decade, but Tour Guide always seems to find things to do here that I've never done and/or never heard of before.  When she arrives, she goes through the litany of ideas for things to do, Dad and I veto the ones that sound gawd-awful-boring and end up with a list of things that if we really hurry, we can do them all.  Tour Guide plans our days, and we are off! 

We went on hikes, visited the self-realization center/temple/garden, picnicked on the beach, shopped in Malibu, went to the farmer's market, and a ton of other things I've already blocked from my memory.  We basically traipsed the city from morning till night.  Somehow, even with all the activities, I still managed to get grilled by both parents together and individually about my employment status and my relationship status.  You'd think with how busy we were there would be less time for scrutiny. Not so.  (sigh... because I don't feel like enough of a loser already)

Silver lining... we filled my gas tank and went to Trader Joe's to stock the larder and my wallet never left my purse.  I guess now that they are gone and I'm sitting here eating a sammy made from food they bought me I can see that we all pay a price - theirs is a charge on the credit card and mine is listening to them harp on about "aren't you tired of being poor and single" and "you could just move back home" and "what about that nice boy you used to date" and "you're a smart girl; surely somebody will hire you." 

Surely somebody will make me another sammy.  No? Guess I'll have to do that myself. 

aaaand SCENE.

thank you ladies and gentlemen, but joanna has left the building.

AhThank HYew, thank yew vrry much.  Uh huh.

Yeah so remember when I had a momentary thought that I might actually make decent money at that horrible job doing demos of a slice/dice kitchen tool in stores? Bahahahahahahaa! Yeah, about that. What I thought was maybe an upswing in my income was just a small blip in an otherwise flat line.

DOA

Anyway, I most certainly did NOT rescind my resignation so I am once again unemployed... sigh...

Lucky for me, both Mom and Dad will be coming out this week for Thanksgiving.  That should be fun exciting ... interesting.  Thankfully they stay in a hotel when they both come to visit so I will at least be spared from their scrutiny for a few moments of each day about why I cannot seem to find gainful employment or a boyfriend. The good news is I don't have to cook a Thanksgiving dinner and they'll pay for meals.  Whoopee.

Charles Manson isn't dead...

He is looking for a date.

And giving rides to felines as though he were one of Cleopatra's pack mules.

Ha! 

... I think it might be time to try out a different dating site.

fingers crossed

So I only have two days left at this horrible job, and of course, today of all days, I actually make some decent money on my shift.  Granted, I'm not exactly bringing home name-brand bacon , it is more like government ration pork rinds, but it is at least (almost) worthy of the time I put in.

bringing home the bacon

Have I made a mistake in quitting? Have I finally just now gotten the hang of this damn job? Maybe I should rescind my resignation?

...OK, let's not be too hasty.

(I don't know what this is, but I love it.)

Let's see how the next couple of days go and then make our final decision.

NO, Regis, it is NOT my final answer.  Jeez. 

If I make a decent amount of money again even one time in the next two days, I will consider staying on.  My trainer wants me to stay, my boss wants me to stay, but I cannot put in more time without being compensated.  Especially when the circumstances around the job are not what they were advertised to be. Crossing fingers (and toes) that this could actually work out.  I really really really don't want to have to look for a job again....

fun with pix part 5? 6? what number are we on?

Dear men,  

Please do not ever ever ever ever make the ducklips fish face in your online dating profile.  Unless you want to turn off every woman that looks at it... 

this is just NOT ok.  

Sincerely, 

Who-am-I-to-be-giving-dating-advice-clearly-I-haven't-found-a-man.

BGP

There comes times in life when one must hoist up her big girl panties from where they had started to sag around her ankles and be the bigger man. (somehow talking about being a man and wearing panties in the same sentence just happened, and wasn't intended to be ironic.  how ironic.)

I have been invited to an event hosted by my former employers.  I felt that not going would send a message that I was afraid to be in the same room with the woman who essentially fired me (it was a requirement to "re-hire" me/all employees when they were moving locations and she didn't re-hire me. so, basically, fired) and going would mean I had to pretend to have a fabulous life that is so much better than had I been "re-hired."  And clearly my life is not fah-bulous right now as I shiver between frozen foods and the meat cooler slicing and dicing with hands that perpetually smell like onions no matter how often I was them.  Hmmm.... ok, well despite the likelihood of awkwardness this should be a fun event.  Like, at least as fun as a trip to the dentist.  And I want to show them that I don't need their stupid job and that being un-hired was the best thing that could have ever happened to me.  I don't know why I even care, but I do.  So what do I need to succeed? 

First, a wing man. Someone I can count on to be there for me, to mingle with, to be an escape plan for the end of the evening, a bolster of support while we're there, and maybe would even have some fun themselves.  (Damn, this is where having a boyfriend would come in handy. grrrr...) Texted a few peeps and got one that is free and will come and be an amazing support system! Yes!!! 

Next, a way to spin this current hellhole job so that it sounds fun and easy-breezy.  Hmm.  Ok, well we will call it "part-time" so as to sound less committal as a career move and less essential for cashflow.  And hey, it was advertised as part-time so even though it is basically full-time we don't have to say that.  And we'll call it "wacky" and "fun" even though it is "horrendous" and "makes me want to stab someone in the eye." I can also say it's just a little "side-gig" for a "few extra bucks" as though my acting and writing work is providing me with enough and this is just vacation/nicer car/designer jeans/expensive handbag money.  And then we'll quickly change the subject.

Finally, the last key components.  Arrive juuuuust as the event is starting and leave before it is over.  Minimize risk of crying, embarrassment, and all-out lies.  "Oh my gosh, I'm so glad I don't work there. Who has the time?? My book publisher would kill me if I pushed one more deadline."  ... "Goodness! I just don't know how you still work there.  I mean, aren't you an actor like me? And you're still not on a TV show??? Honey, I'll talk to my producer and see if we can get you on as an extra." ... "Oh I never worked at any job for money.  Hahahahaa! Sweetie, that's what trust funds are for! I just like to discourse with the commoners so I know how to play one on TV."

Dah-ling! So good to see you... beneath me. 

*deep breath* (hoists BGPs) here goes nuthin. 

rude boy

no, that's not an insult, that's his username.  "rudeboy" emailed me the other day on the dating site.  With that username, you know I had to check him out.  Who on earth would advertise their rudeness? For starters, someone who is 33 years old, lives in suburbia, is really good at "grilling, drinking, being whitty [sic], slappy ass banter, stirring up some humor, posting and roasting" and the first thing people notice about him are his "top notch social skills." One of the six things he could never do without is "herbs" and he spends a lot of time thinking about "blazing a fire."  Something tells me this guy might be a total pothead.  And by "might be a total pothead" I mean "definitely is a total pothead." He sounds like a real winner.  And by "winner" I mean "loser."  Here's a picture he used to advertise himself.

Its funny because he's pretending to drink the beer in the poster.  Ha...

To his credit (possibly the only one) he states, "My sister is gay and if you think she is going to hell then you can fuck your face." So he's not a complete ass/is not homophobic.

My curiosity got the best of me and I emailed him back asking about his username.  I just couldn't believe that someone would actually A) be cognizant that they are a rude person and B) promote that feature of themselves as a username.  It turns out that Rudeboy is one of the many names that Rastas call each other.  He apparently has been "into the movement" since he was a teenager and assured me he is not actually rude.  Mmmyeahh.... someone's gotta tell this guy that 99.99999% of the women on this site are not going to know that particular Rastafarian term of endearment and are just going to ignore you because they think you're rude.  Or they will look at your profile and realize you're a suburban wastoid pothead who wishes he were cooler than he actually is and still ignore you.

*feeling the slightest bit guilty about the name-calling, but he started it.  :-p

wishful thinking

When I applied for this job they indicated that I would be working five hour shifts comprised of twenty-five minute presentations followed by twenty minute breaks.  So there was no lunch break scheduled in.  No big deal because it would only be five hours total and several large breaks in between, right? uhm, NO.  They also said I would average between $600-800/week.  BHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!! hilarious. except, not.

:/

First, if you're the morning shift you're expected to get there about 45 minutes to an hour early to set everything up for the day or conversely if you're an evening shift stay about 45 minutes or an hour after to close everything down for the night. Plus about 30 minutes on the opposite end of your shift for the shift-change duties.  Second, these "20 minute breaks" are actually time in between presentations where you spend at least 15 of those minutes cleaning up from your last show/setting up for your next show.  You may or may not have five minutes to use the restroom, eat, or send a text message. Your total day is closer to 7 1/2 hours with no break.

Let me paint a picture of what this looks like.  You arrive at your national chain grocery store and find where there is a large booth.  Usually it is in the coldest part of the store near the meat or produce sections.  You turn on a GOBO light that flashes the company logo in multi-colored 80's-ness all over the ceiling. You find the produce cooler and get your pesticide-ridden grossly oversized produce (have you ever seen a carrot the size of a coke can?) that has been purchased from somewhere that is obviously downwind of a nuclear power plant and bring those to the booth.  You count stock, buy a cantaloupe and make a melon basket (for the show; don't ask), fill your water pails, and a few other tasks to get ready.

Then, you go over the store's pager system and try and hustle up some people to watch you slice and dice.  "Ladieeeeees and gentlemen.  May I have your attention please! I'm going to give you a free gift in order to entice you to let your ice cream melt for 20 minutes while I show you a kitchen tool that you don't need, didn't come here to buy, but is really handy if you have an extra thirty bucks! Head on over to the white booth where you see the flashing light on the ceiling and wait for my to get my butt from one side of the store to the other. I'll be there once I make one more annoying announcement over the PA system."  (wait about 30-45 seconds) "This is your second annoying announcement! If you want a free piece of plastic, pretty please come to my booth so I can try to sell you something so I can hopefully pay my bills! Pretty please! Ok, I'm on my way over there now! Are you there yet? Please be there.  Thank you."

Of course the phone that you have to use for the announcement invariably is on the other side of the huge conglomerate store so you race over and with any luck greet a group of people (usually around 5-10 shoppers) that hopefully aren't completely annoyed that they've been waiting two whole minutes for you to get there.  You greet them, and then one more announcement at the booth to try and get one or two more stragglers to watch you slice and dice.

Finally.  You're ready.  You show them the free gift and how to use it.  You hope that everyone at least stays for the free gift. You hand out the free gift and beg them to stay for the main part of the presentation.  You present the slicer-dicer.  Most people oooh and ahhh, and usually at least one or two leave during the presentation.  Now, remember not to be too nice.  People don't like you if you're nice.  (WTF???) They think you're trying to sell them something. (duh) So be kind of bitchy.  Now you've chopped and diced nine different pieces of produce and displayed them nicely on your cutting board. Deep breath.  Now you've got to sell them on the price.  Make sure you go slow.  Like, so slow you feel more uncomfortable than you've ever felt.  People are dumb (remember they don't like nice people; how smart can they be) and cannot make a decision so you've got to give them time.

this is not me.  

By then end, hopefully you've got a few takers. The worst is when they all  stay for the whole 25 minutes and then say "thank you" and leave.  You know you were too nice if they do that.  Quit being so nice!!! (side note, why the hell would you stay for a presentation for 25 minutes in the grocery store if you weren't going to buy the thing! honestly. who throws a shoe!?!)

Anyway, lets just say this second week of presentations hasn't exactly been going great.  I have sold some, but not nearly enough to make ends meet or even point in the direction of meeting.  I think I'm going to turn in my two weeks notice. That will give me one more week of guaranteed money and then one week of "you're on your own" commission-only money.  If by some stroke of luck I learn how to not be nice (but not toooo much of a bitch either) and can start to sell a reasonable amount, I'll rescind my two weeks.  And I'll use that money to buy a parka because hell will surely have frozen over.

first weak, I mean, week.

You know what disease is right? Dis-ease.  Like when your life is so shitty you make yourself sick so you don't have to face it. Well, I stressed myself out so badly about this stupid job that I actually made myself sick.  So what was supposed to be my first day in-store with all the other trainees, I called out sick and was feeling just awful. Like actually sick with green boogies and everything.

(hope this isn't copyright infringement)

I laid around all day sleeping and watching TV, and by the evening I was feeling a bit better.  I should have tried to spend some time with my script, but I felt so tired and crappy that I barely glanced at it.  The next morning I wake up and am feeling slightly better.  Except that since I missed the day before, I now have to work a double shift to make up for what I missed. So I am at this store from 8AM - 9:30PM.  By the end of the day I am beyond exhausted.  BUT victorious, as I have done my first official presentation! ...After spending 20 minutes in the produce cooler of the grocery store practicing my script.  No one bought anything, but I made it through without any major mishaps.  Wahoo!

The next day we are back at the same store and I'm there for a regular shift.  I do a two more presentations.  I actually sell something! I am NOT A TOTAL FAILURE!!!!! Let me tell you a little something about this store.  It is in da' hood.  I stick out like a white thumb.  And the people that are watching my presentations, they don't know that my nickname in some circles is "blackness," or that when I was a kid I wished I had hair like the black girls in my class because unlike my super-fine-listless-hair those girls were always beautiful in plaits or braids or twisted ponytails, or that in high school I went to leadership camp (and later was a counselor) that taught teens how to fight prejudice and bring tolerance and peace into our schools and neighborhoods. Maybe I was projecting (and by "maybe" I mean "totally"), but I felt like they looked at me as this crazy white lady trying to swindle them into buying something.  And maybe that's because I am a crazy white lady and I was trying to swindle get them to buy something.

found under google images of "crazy white lady"

Anyway, I seem to improve with every presentation, so I'm going to collect my guarantee money from this week and head into next week with an open mind and hope that things get better from here.  Because they surely can't get worse.  Right??

Bitch better have my money

Smartypants girl that I am, when I went to open a new savings account early this year, I researched online and I found the one that had the highest interest rate.  (I wanted a savings account as opposed to some other kind of account so I could very easily get to my money.) The winner was CIT Bank because its rate was about 1%.  This is still pretty small I know, but it is higher than anything else I found and I'd rather have more interest than less. Right? 

WRONG. These jerks have been politely taking my money as I deposit it into the account every month, smiling all the way.  I should have known something was up when their website (which has all of the modern day security measures) looked like it was from 1994.  I mean, seriously.  Trying to navigate this thing I felt like I should be using dial-up. 

And now that I try to take my money out and put it right back into my checking account (oh yes, the very same bank account they have been oh so happy taking money out of) they have to get approval from the Commissioner or some sh*t like that.  

What does Batman think of this money transfer? Is Evil afoot? 

So I call them to say WTF where is my money? And they say sorry little girl, your money is being held captive until we say so.  And no, you cannot wire the money. No, you cannot have it until maybe a few more days have gone by. Yes we know your first request to transfer the money was over a week ago.  It will just be a little longer, dearie.  Muah-ha-hahaaa...

Dear Mr. President, 

Please pretty please with sugar on top, REGULATE THE F*CKING BANKS ALREADY! 

Thank you.

Sincerely, 

A Fan

Nerves of Steel. Yeah, Steel.

Remember that new job I just got? Holy hell, batman.

I've spent the last week memorizing (well, trying to memorize) this seven page script I have to know.  Now, I'm an actor, and I usually have no trouble at all memorizing stuff! I'll get a scene for an audition and look at it a couple of times and basically have the thing memorized. But this... this is probably the hardest thing I've ever had to memorize.  Harder than Shakespeare or Chekhov .  What usually makes a thing easy for me to know - emotions, dialogue cues, natural ways of speaking/train of thought - yeah there's none of that here.

So we're supposed to be "off book" for our two days of in-house training.  Mmmyeahh... that didn't quite happen. I got about half of it memorized.  Thankfully, they didn't fire me.  :)  Tomorrow we will be in a store... actually presenting.  fuckfuckfuck I'm so effing nervous I don't know what to do with myself.  I am having the worst performance anxiety I've ever experienced.  WTF.

Nerves of steel.  And by "steel" I mean "jello. "

I think I'm going to vomit.

Who is this person that gets nervous??? Not this girl.  I don't EVER have a fluttery stomach when I am about to perform.  I can improv my way through anything!!  *sigh...*

Maybe I should just quit.  I could just not show up.  It's only been a couple of days, right? But then I won't get my guaranteed money... Ok, Joanna, suck it up.  No matter how bad you are, they will still pay you if you just show up. So... you can do this.  Spend a few more hours with your script.  You'll be fine.  Just like Aerosmith says, you're gonna be F.I.N.E. Fine. (F*cked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional)

*SOB*

Is it possible tomorrow will not come for it's regularly scheduled programming?