FYI...There's not a toilet paper fairy...

Help.

There's someone on the third floor of my building where I work who needs to be destroyed. Or at least taught a lesson in manners.

This person thinks it is okay to grab two feet (sometimes more) of toilet paper and throw it on the ground either before or after they use the facilities.

I can only imagine this person as being:
1) Handicapped to where they can't bend over to pick up said T. Paper
2) Handicapped, but more like the humpback of Notre Dame variety - i.e. live in the rafters of the parking structure, socially challenged, only speaks to rats, and enjoys rolling around in their own mess
3) Blind and think they are actually throwing the TP into the trash

If the person is any of the above, we should talk and I will teach, show, demonstrate what should be done with the toilet paper. Even if you are the Hunchback of building 154, I promise I won't bite and we may end up life long friends or at least Facebook buddies (if you can access wireless from the rafters of the parking structure).

If you aren't any of the above, you need to realize, even though I pick up after you, I am not the toilet paper fairy. I do this because I don't want the next person going into the stall to think it's me that's throwing the paper on the floor! And I hate that if no one picked it up, it would pile up until the janitor would have to get a new trashbag to contain all the toilet paper that you so carelessly throw to the side. And she already cleans up after everyone. Should she clean up after your laziness? I don't think so, it's the principal really.

And, the fact is, we are adults. Last time I checked the people who work at Warner Bros. are all reasonable human beings who get paid to work in the movie business and get paid well in fact.

We should all know how to pick up after ourselves.

And if you don't... like I previously stated... you will be destroyed. I will figure out who you are at some point and make your life miserable. Are we clear?

New Trend - Driving Gloves

I am by no means the most stylish person in LA. I do not pretend to be and I most certainly do not consider myself on the cusp of all that is fashion forward.

But I'm going to give you a leg up as to what is going to be "the next big thing" in fashion.

For years you will be thanking me that I got you on the "in" and you were the first of your friends to purchase this amazing accessory... driving gloves.

I'm not talking about old-lady, up-to the elbow, lace, 1947 ballgown attire gloves. I'm talking fierce, leather, bold colors (or at least the color of your car). And they should have ventilation, some sort of design that makes them stylish, breathable, and HAWT to look at.

All right, I can't do it. This is ridiculous. Driving gloves?! Why is this something that has become a fashionable item?

The three people I have seen wearing driving gloves the past week were all stuck in traffic - same as I was. We weren't racing across the Autobahn at 180 km/hour (roughly 112 MPH). We were at a stop light. I look over and see the gloves first, pull forward a little more and see that my eyes are not deceiving me. They really are wearing driving gloves.

I can understand wearing the gloves if you're participating in a cross country race. The leather would help your hands not get tired and you could grip the wheel better while making dangerous turns. I can even understand if you're driving up to SanFran for the weekend. That's a 6+ hour drive and your hands can get sun damage being exposed to the California sun. But driving two miles in bumper to bumper traffic to pick up some veggies at the farmer's market or grab a yogurt makes no sense to me!

So why don't we boycott this trend?! Let's not have wrist tan lines from wearing driving gloves and save some animals hides by not purchasing leather goods.

Or we can add to the craze by driving in helmets and full body race suits with sponsors and a big Gatorade emblem on the hood of our cars.

Hmmm, I could use the extra cash...

An Old-School Writer in a New School World

That beautiful piece of machinery above is the new typewrite I just purchased!

A 1958 Olympia SM 3 Deluxe. It's currently in the mail, being shipped to my work. It was something I've been wanting to get for awhile now - an old-school manual typewriter.

Why?

The first time I wrote each of all the following was done from a manual typewriter: short story, poem, play, script. I have such memories of sitting down in front of this device and having my fingers dance with the keys. At around five years old I sat at a big oak desk next to my grandmother's even bigger oak desk at the tax office she worked. These desks were miniscule compared to Uncle Rayford's massive oak desk that had tax papers, receipts, and envelopes neatly stacked a top it's impressive surface. Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and Baby Bear oak desks all in a converted garage next to my great-Aunt's house.

The manual typewriter also belonged to my great-Aunt, Aunt Sissy. Or, "Sister," as my grandmother calls her. Aunt Sissy is my grandmother's 10 year older sister. When I was young, she always had around fifteen indoor/outdoor cats (it got so bad if you walked into the living room you could count the fleas jumping around your socks), an interest in professional wrestling, and an old Lincoln she would whip into and back out of the the gravel drive-way (that had blind-sides on all sides) with the ease of a stuntdriver. Now at 87, she still drives, still has cats (down to 2-3 at a time now) and still watches wrestling everyday.

Back to her typewriter. Antique is a word so use, but I could also use ancient. Something from the late 20's, this typewriter weighed a ton and you really had to press the circular buttons pretty hard to get the letter to swing up and hit the page, leaving the ink behind on the eggshell paper. It was a work-out to type a paragraph.

But the sound was exsquisite! When I got to typing fast the rhythm was relaxing and kept my mind going. I would get lost in the motion and suddenly have three or four pages written.

When not visiting my grandmother I used my dad's newer plug-in model. It was very high-tech compared to Aunt Sissy's. I loved plugging it in and hitting the on switch, the way it quietly purred and then suddenly roared to life.

As I got older I moved from simple poems and short stories to writing papers for classes, a 3-Act play and even my first screenplay (which was a Western that my friends and I filmed for drama class). And then I moved on to a computer when I was about 16 (yes, I'm old enough to know what it's like to live without a laptop, cellphone or email address - which I didn't get email until my freshman year of college).

But there's always been a connection with myself and a typewriter. And for the last few years I've been feeling like I need to get one. A typewriter introduced me to my love of writing. And for that I am forever grateful!

I may be in a world of the internet, technology and iPhones, but this lady is also going to sit down and write some great, fulfilling and passionate things on that beautiful Olympia typewriter.

Or I could just write some bad poetry and call it a day!

Should I Name My Blog?

I've been posting to my blog for about a year and a half and it has just now occured to me that I don't have a proper name for it.

The problem is I started it as an excercise to get writing into my everday life, not just when I'm working on a particular project or script. I feel like I'm a funny person with good observational skills, so I wanted a creative outlet for me to get some of the silly things that I think of out of my head. Plus, my life can be a little crazy sometimes, so sitting down, taking a moment and just reliving an experience or moment kind of helps things become clearer.

But should I really name my Blog?

I didn't really have a theme when I sat down to start it and, truth be told, looking back at what I've written, there's still not a central theme. The topics have included: top 10 lists, goals to achieve, short stories, dating again, funny thoughts and ramblings. The only thing that strings them together is that they are completely and 100% from my mind and the typing of my wee little fingertips.

So should I name it something cheesy like "Rachel's Rants" or "Desperately Seeking Rachel?" Or maybe something completely off like, "Owl Feather and an Overall ASSessment of Life?"

Suggestions? Thoughts? Should I come up with a name or just keep it as is?

Hmmmmm.....

Pregnancy Portraits

There is a particular trend that's been gaining momentum ever since Demi Moore premiered her seven months pregnant belly on the cover of Vanity Fair in August of 1991 - the "Pregnancy Portrait." Annie Leibovitz shot the cover to make a statment on de-glitzing Hollywood and to show that even while pregnant, a sex symbol can still be sexy, provocative and alluring.

I came across a photographer's gallery today that has an entire section of "Pregnancy Portraits" - I'll give you her name if you ever need to get your bun in the oven photographed. Let's just say that most of the pictures just made me feel uncomfortable.

Recently I got into a conversation with a friend about how being pregnant really shouldn't be called a "miracle." I know that babies are wonderful and that it is special to be pregnant. But let's not call it a miracle. Miracles are supposed to be things that happen that aren't supposed to happen - like parting the red sea, turning water into wine or finding the image of Jesus in a watermelon seed. But babies are born everyday. Probably every minute of everyday. That doesn't sound too special too me. Miracle my ass!

So let's take a look at the three pictures at the top of the page and figure out why these couples thought getting a pregancy portrait was right for them.

#1 (Left) - I don't think this is the way you tell your family that your baby daddy is black. That's an awkward conversation just waiting to happen. But seriously - is this something you are going to put up in your foyer? This might have been the dudes idea as he seems to be looking at her breasts more than their intertwined fingers. He's probably just trying to get a peek since it's been awhile.

#2 (Middle) - "Honey, I have this old sword, a jean skirt with a front-zipper that I can strategically unzip to allow my entire pregant belly to show, a tube top and army boots. Let's go get a pregnancy portrait!" "Sure thing, dear. But I'm not going to smile. I don't want anyone to think I'm actually proud of that thing growing inside of you."

#3 (Right) - "You see, it's a miracle because when I make a heart symbol around my big pumpkin belly, a pink, magical heart glows around it!" Again, something you're going to put up in your house and make all your guests stare at uncomfortably? Imagine this kid when he/she turns fifteen and has a date over and old mom has this hanging in the living room. And is it just me or does grandpa in the back look like Will Ferrell with a bald cap on?

What do you think about pregnacy portraits? Should they be outlawed like clove cigarettes?

Online Dating and the Travesties of...

Profiles...

From my last post you learned that I had recently re-joined that online dating site that I decided we would call "LotsofBait.com." Mostly what I have been thinking about the last few weeks (besides the depressing rant that I won't bore your with) has been about getting back up again, riding that next wave, taking the bull by the horns, and basically trying to stay positive.

But now I feel like I'm just beating a dead horse... Moving on is hard. It's not as easy as just saying, "Alright, today I'm better and going to be okay!" The exclamation point is added to solidify the idea that all is good. But in reality being dumped is something that does take a little while to get back your footing... and as I mentioned, it's hard when you see your former-flame on "LotsofBait.com" or Facebook or everywhere you look because you are reminded of them.

But, I'm trying to use some of this as an exercise in my ability to observe. I've known since I was very young that I observe first, make my statement later, and end up coming out better because of it.

And what I am observing now is that I think one could write a masters thesis on the online dating profile.

First, how in the world are you able to say all that you want to say in your own profile without coming off sounding like you think you are the greatest thing since Uggs, jeggings (jeans that fit you like leggings), or Susan Boyle?

You just can't. So you have to be short, sweet, to the point. Reading back my profile I come off as assured of myself but maybe a bit cocky and also not very original - my screen name is funnyru2, who doesn't want to laugh and have a good time? So even though my favorite thing to do is laugh and make people laugh, I had to edit, move that down the page a bit. Writing, it's all in the rewrite.

Second, a lot of people are either too sweet, too short or not at all to the point. I've read profiles that are 14 paragraphs long but completely contradicting. Another says LOL or misspells every other word. Or they only list "hiking" and "sushi" as their interests. Really? Those are the only things you like in this entire world? Huh, we would not get a long. There are some that just have one sentence that says "message me." Wow, how many hits do you get out of that? Several profiles try to reel you in with an amazing description of themselves but in the last sentence she says, "I have been married for 10 years and we are both looking to take our relationship to the next level." Gross.

Third, can people please put pictures of themselves that actually look like YOU? No HUGE sunglasses, no pictures taken at midnight with a disposable camera from 40 feet away, no hot main picture then 15 other pictures with you and your really hot friends that you can't tell which one is you, no pictures taken before 2007, nothing with you making out with someone else, no self-portraits you took while driving through x-y-z-city with your baby visible in the car-seat in back, no random shots of sunsets or the beach, or hotels, or hikes, or cars, or anything that doesn't show me YOU!!! URGH!

Fourth, please don't message me saying that you'd like to take me to your ranch in the middle of nowhere. Or that you want to come and visit me when you live half way around the country. I've received about 6 of these type messages - all from women 45+ years old. Maybe it's worked for you in the past but when I delete your message without responding, don't try again, M-kay?

I promise... Even though I'm dealing with a break-up, I still have standards.

Check back in a few weeks though, I might just be lonely enough to move to a ranch and take up milking cows and getting frisky in a barn with my 55 year old soul mate named 2ht2hndl55.

A Very Small Pool for the Fish to Swim...

Getting back out and dating again can be difficult after you have your first love. Actually, it's hard to put yourself out there after breaking up with anyone, I just have to take people's words for it because I myself have only had the one heartbreak.

So we're going to take this as a "in my experience" kind of way. Which, even though I have had very little, it doesn't matter about the quantity, it's the quality that counts. And I can truly say I loved, lossed, and am trying to go back swimming again - mainly because my brain can get weighed down by the past and I try to stay pretty positive.

There's really no way you can say the exact amount of time is takes to get over someone. The question is, "Do you really ever get over someone?"

I don't think so. Take my ex-boyfriend from high school whom I dated for 2 years. I didn't love him. He was a nice, quality, gentle, quiet guy. I knew after the first few dates that he wasn't "the one." But I can still remember my feelings when we kissed the first time. I remember so many great, special, sweet moments. Those things don't go away because of time and space. They last... at least for me. They get carted away to the furthest compartment of your mind and the cobwebs collect. But sometimes when I pass a Marie Challender's I smile - we had our first date (that I actually don't remember what we did) and before he took me home we stop and ate a slice of pie. I was 16 and it was the nicest thing...

Okay, back to now, present, current Rachel... Getting dumped sucks. There is no other way to put it.

But I keep telling myself that no matter how many love poems were written about "death if I can't have you," "heartbreak means death," etc - no one has actually died from a broken heart. Not even Christopher Reeve in the movie "Somewhere in Time." I think he died from all that weird time travel!

So the fact is that whether two, six, 12 months from now I'm not over the former-flame, does it matter when I start trying to date again? How long should I cry? I don't know. I thought I was done crying, but this morning proved otherwise.

There's a problem though... LA is a very small pool for the fish to swim in! I joined a dating site (where I happened to meet the former-flame and we dated for 8 months) and we'll call it "LotsofBait.com"

The problem with the title is that there is NOT Lots of BAIT!

The crying session this morning was because of just that. I go to log out and two things pop up that I didn't expect to see:

1) The former-flame had been on the same site just in the last couple hours! And there was the profile picture and the daunting little green letters under it "Online Today!"
2) The former-flame's ex was the profile picture one over!

This pool is too small! How am I supposed to mingle in a sea that's full of the past?

Of course I didn't cry over being mad that I saw their pictures. I cried because that loss is still fresh.

But we are both moving on... and that's okay. That's life. That's why there's another day tomorrow and there will always be better days than today... At least I keep telling myself that!

Kidz Korner

I titled this "Kidz Korner" because years ago I saw a store (I think it was Dallas) that had this as their name. Why must we try to make things look and sound cute in order to be different?

Ummmm, hi. Let's not have a store where kids go to misspelled!

Our children today need to LEARN things, not be taught that corner is spelled with a "K"!

Businesses or products do this all the time in order to be cute. But why? If you want to name your company, business, store, product the same as something that already exists, just be creative and come up with something that is actually creative instead of changing the "S" to a "Z" (KIDZ), using "IN" instead of "ING" (Dunkin' Donuts), or jumbling the words together (Whataburger, Fatburger, Chick-Fil-A).

I know these are all catchy and a marketing team spent many, many hours testing these names out and brainstorming what would be the best "sell" for their product and their signage - but let's STOP IT!

The fact is that most people can't write a simple paragraph without using spellcheck. And if kids that are growing up today start using the misspelled words in everyday life, then we are going to have a country full of dummies. Do we really want a president someday to write a letter to the United Nations and say, "Dear United-Nahtionz?"

I didn't think so.

Let's all boycott products that are misspelled.

Now, I'm off to get a Krispy Kreme doughnut that's near the Toys R' Us in Burbank...

Why Facebook Can Be Dangerous to Your Health and Sanity

...Especially when breaking up with someone... Someone you spent many, many months confiding in, sharing thoughts and feelings... and some of them through facebook. If when you were together you would check their profile to see if they mentioned your date the night before or the trip you just got back from (and of course comment or "like" their status while wearing a smile on your face).

When you break up and decide to stay "friends" it's inappropiate politically to delete your former-flame from your facebook. And definitely not kosher when you have 10+ friends in common.

I happen to be at my computer 40+ hours a week. So sue me if I also end up updating my FB status several times throughout the day and also checking out the former's status too... It's the new form of stalking.

Here are signs you might have a problem:

1) You wake up listing in your head how you are going to update your status. This is not only when you first wake up though, you constantly think about it as a way to verify how "well" you're doing.

2) You WANT to update your status with things like "I used to really like Jon Bon Jovi. Now I think he's a douche." (which sucks because I really like JBJ, the former LOVED him, but I would get a kick out of what they thought of that plus other friends would comment that they agreed.) You END UP writing "Wow, Feeling like this week has gone by so fast." Not as much of a punch, right?

3) You accept every event that you are invited to because you want to look like you are busy.

4) You have to tell yourself you are going to check your FB only 5 times in a day. And then halfway though the day you say... okay, 10 times.

5) You constantly look up positive, happy, greater-than-anything quotes from famous authors, poets, and philosopher's in order to make it seem like you are doing well.

6) You post funny pictures of yourself with your friends having "the best of times" and put them in a new album entitled "Happiness" "Look at me now" or "THIS is the LIFE."

7) You ask your friends to comment on your status - popularity is always a plus in a break-up.

8) You Facebook flirt with people you have just "friended."

9) You make comments to mutual friends, on your status or put a link on your page about this or that great thing that you are planning on doing - that you know your ex would want to do too.

10) You force yourself to not do any of the above for an entire 3 day period - usually the weekend - and then at the end of it, write something like "This weekend was the best thing that ever happened to me ;)" The wink at the end is crucial because you could be winking at a friend... or maybe a new someone in your life...

So, what's the correct dosage of medicine to get over this and take back your sanity?

I don't know yet... do you?!