Minimal Effort

“Can I help you?”

“I don’t know what I want yet”

“Okay, I’ll just stand here and look pretty”

“You’re doing a VERY good job”

“Yeah, I know.” wink

“What’s your name?”

“Sharon” [smile]

I am a terrible flirt when it comes to working at Starbucks. I tend to do it inadvertently. I figure, tips and good customer service.

Well, today I actually fell in love with one of my customers.

I don’t really pay attention to customers but this guy has been coming in a LOT and I commented on it.

“Dude, you come in here a LOT”

“Actually, I’ve only been here like three or four times”

“Oh…I—“

“But I recognize you too. You work EVERY single time I come in”

“That’s odd, because I don’t work here all that much. I only work nights and only a couple times a week”

“I only come at nights and I come every so often but you are always working when you are here”

so, this conversation ended up being a lot longer then usual. He ended up telling me he was a grad student at UCSD, he worked at another coffee shop (but came to starbucks to get his after work coffee), he was studying physics and he had a lot of sweaters. I actually teased him that the reason he looked so familiar was because he wore the same damn sweater all the time. heh heh. His name is Paul, like 5’10 or 5’11, Curly strawberry blonde hair (which is ADORABLEE) AND…in grad school??

what a catch.

I told him that I wouldn’t be working at Starbucks for very long and he asked why and I explained and then he said “Well, that sucks, I won’t get to see you”

awwww.

Knowing my luck, he’ll probably keep coming in to see me, ask me on a date, we’ll fall madly in love and we’re soul mates and then,

I’ll have to move.

I already made my montage of us dating in my head:

–we’re sitting at a cafe and he tells me a joke and I laugh and laugh and smile at him

–we’re at an amusement park and we’re on the ferris wheel and he kisses me. I’m holding cotton candy and he wins me a stuffed animal

–we’re in the car and I’m talking, waving my hands around, and he grabs it and we start fighting (adorably) [dude, I totally stole that scene from Singles]

–we’re reading together in bed

–we’re having a picnic at a park and he embarrsingly serenades me with a Chicago song or something.

–oh god, what if he plays piano? He plays piano to me, while I am lying on top of the piano, propped up on my hands.

and the best one:

–we’re at the beach and he runs after me (in his khaki pants and like, rustic type j=crew shirt thing) and splashes water on me and I squeal. Hmm..the he picks me up and carries me, threatens to throw me in the water and I say I hate him.

Then we make out.[I think making out on the beach is pushing it a bit] and then he carries me by piggy back as we go back to the car.

and maybe a horse starts running in the background.

man, that is so pathetic.

Here’s the thing though, I go through these montages (I had computer guy montages as well) and the guy is NEVER anything like the montage. He ends up being like, ghetto or anal or crazy boring.

My REAL montage ends up being:

–we watch tv in silence.

–we are at a party and I’m on the other side of the room

–he’s peeing and I’m brushing my teeth

I think that’s about it.

Damn you montages! Damn you!

California has gone insane:

1. Firestorm galore/firestorm aftermath
2. the governator
3. highest gas prices in the country
4. 95% of all grocery stores are on strike.

I mean, we get a bad enough rap for having LA…but geez. I just want to buy some milk!

I went to Cost Co today. I have a love-hate relationship with Cost Co. Cost Co is all about bulk and whenever I shop at Cost Co and sort of reasoning or practicality goes out the window.

I mean, they have these GOOD deals for things that are useless to me.

I saw a 10 pounds of carrots for $2.59. ONLY $2.59?!?! They had 8 pounds of Laura Schudder French Fries for $4.59. My friend Jill was looking at it and I was thinking, GOD it’s such a good deal! And Jill (thank god one of us is practical) reasoned that it would take her 7 years to eat all those fries and furthermore that big of a bag would be impossible to fit in the freezer.

I like buying things in bulk. I like not having to worry about running out of toothpaste.

I saw 10 toothbrushes for 8 bucks or something. I wanted to buy it so bad and Jill was like “What are you going to do with 10 toothbrushes?” and I said “I have a lot of teeth, I need a lot of toothbrushes. Well, maybe I can use one for each day of the week”

Then it dawned on me

Christmas Presents!

How rad would it be if all my friends got toothbrushes for christmas? I can’t believe I didn’t think about it before.

I think the best part of giving toothbrushes as presents is people’s reactions. I totally have to take pictures.

Better yet, I should get everyone toothpaste. They were selling like 20 Aquafreshes for like 10 bucks.

Damn you Cost Co.!

I wished my future roommates were in Cost Co. with me. I’m sure we would collectively buy two gallons of ketchup and a gallon of maple syrup.

Alas, when I go out there to visit (I’m visiting soon) I will take down inventory and be their Cost Co. whore.

Okay, I should go to bed now but I want to watch ENOUGH. Apparently J.Lo has had ENOUGH of her husband or something. I mean, I personally had ENOUGH of J. Lo myself but I guess ENOUGH wasn’t ENOUGH.

I just like to put ENOUGH in capital. The title is so dramatic

Well ENOUGH of this entry.

I was working with one of my hot co-workers, Patrick, and I accidentally did something that needed the assistance of pliers (plyers?). He said “Oh, I’ll call Jessica” “Who’s Jessica?” “My wife.”

Now, I felt like an idiot, because I’ve met his wife before but I was introduced to her as JESS and Patrick always referred to her as Jess, I guess when he referred to her with her full name Jessica, I thought he was talking about another co-worker.

Which brings me to this: I really don’t know people’s names…or the plethora of names given to a person really confuses my simple mind.

Example one: My sister was dating this guy Ro-ro. After a couple of years, the amicably broke up. So, I’m talking to a friend of mine who knew the couple and asked me “Did they break up?” and I said, “Yeah, poor Ro-ro” and my friend said “She’s dating another person? What happened to Mike?” and I said, “WHAT?!” I was completely confused. Found out later, through a long debacle that Mike equals Ro-ro. Mike and Rr-ro were the same person.

Jesus.

Example two: I was on a road trip and I stopped over to Massachusetts to visit Kerbang for night. Kerbang, apparently, had no idea what to show us after midnight in Boston or whereever he lives, so he tells me on the phone that his friend, we’ll call him ‘Britney’ is coming along because he’s much better at tour guiding than he’ll ever be.

So my friend Kay and I meet Britney and I ask him “Are you named Britney after the pop star?” You know, I guess because I’m a dumbass and thought it was funny if he said “yeah, right after she was born, they renamed me.” However, he said “Nope” and I was like…okay. I thought it was funny he was named Britney.

Anyway, so Britney starts up an online journal and we start to correspond. He sends me an email and it says his actual name is not Britney but BOB! Actually, his name is Bob Britonnia..friends call him by his last name, Britney. So when I got the email, I was like, who is this?

So, Britney aka Gumphood, is going to be a roommate of mine soon, or should I say a roommate of his soon, and whenever I chat with one of the other roommate (the other girl) she always calls him Bob and I call him Brittonia because I can’t seem to call him Britney.

Kerbang is called ‘Cakes’ for some odd reason (which I found out later) and when I found this out, I said “what the hell. Do you like Cakes? Is it because it rhymes with your middle name?” and he said “No, it just matches my first name”…uh, okay.

Whenever I meet people and how they are named, I call them how I am introduced to them FOREVER. So, I will always call Britney Brittonia. I will never call Kerbang Cakes. I will call Mike, Ro=ro. My sister? They call her jazzhands. Yeah, right I’m calling her jazzhands.

That’s another thing. Whenever you are introduced to a person (especially gangster) there is no way in HELL I’m going to call you ‘shorty’ or ‘b-boy’ because, I just sound like I’m constipated saying it.

But then again, I start stupid things like “Let’s call you Bobo, just so when people ask you why your name is Bobo, then you can make some interesting story up.”
My friend Ryan, has a roommate who is French. I call him Germany.

Oh, Neneh Cherry, you tease me with your Buffalo Stance:

No moneyman can win my love
It’s sweetness that I’m thinking of.
We always hang in a buffalo stance
We do the dive every time we dance
I’ll give you love baby not romance
I’ll make a move nothing left to chance
So don’t you get fresh with me

I used to sing this song all the time when I was younger but I had NO FREAKING CLUE what the hell I was singing. I mean, I thought the Buffalo Stance was a version of the Electric Slide. I didn’t even know what a stance was. But then again, I used to sing “I Touch Myself” at the top of my lungs and I didn’t know what I was singing about then.

However, when I was a junior in high school, I actually did know what I was singing about then. Actually, a bunch of friends and I were at a bowling alley/billiards place and I was dared to go on top of the pool table and perform a “sexy” song.

Oh and did I perform. To up the ante, I sang “I Touch Myself” by the Divinyls. The things I did with the poolstick and the cue…yeah, we’ll let you use your imagination (what could I have possibly done?) I’m just the type of girl to do a dare and when I do a dare, I usually go all out.

Next day at school…what i did spread around like wildfire and…yeah, I’m the coolest, most badass chick ever.



So I have some interesting news. Or semi-news. Or actually news-that-I-can’t-believe-that-I-was…nevermind. let me explain:

So my best friend, we’ll call her “Sally” came down to visit from the LA/San Bernardino area with her friend, we’ll call him “Harry”. It was Harry’s birthday and he wanted to see San Diego.

I gave them the tour: beaches and houses. Sally and I love to go do house tours and dream about our dream homes and our dream husband(s) (She’s married already but…eh..it’s not going so well). Anyway, afterwards we went to Hooters.

SIDENOTE:I love Hooters. I can’t get enough of their chicken wings. YUM! Furthermore, I like to watch sports and have hot girls serve me. I think it’s a power thing for me.

Man, am I a guy?

Anyway, so the three of us start talking about sex. Now, I don’t necessarily ADVERTISE my sex life, however, if the topic arises and/or if you ask me a direct question, I will answer it honestly and with (not an excessive amount unless egged on) detail. So Harry is really interested about what I’m into and so on and so forth.

Later that night, they decide to call it a night and go back home (up north) and asks if I want spend the night at her house and gossip, hang out or watch movies. At first, I say, “sure,’ but decided against it because I had a lot of shit to do the next morning.

SOOOOO….

Today, my Sally calls me and tells me that Harry thought I was really cool and really open-minded.

Because of this, he wanted to ask me a question but chickened out.

You know what he wanted to ask me?

If I wanted to have a threesome with him and Sally.

OH

MY

GOD

First off, I think I’m pretty open minded and easy going, so that’s probably why he was thinking of asking if I wanted to participate.

Second of all, when Sally told me this, I said “OH MY GOD. Wouldn’t that be weird, if we were both having sex with the same guy? Like, your hand would be on my boobs and shit..I would hear your orgasm voice”

and she said:

“Well, if you were to be involved in a threesome, wouldn’t you want it to be with your best friend?”

and, dumbfounded (and astonished, I guess) I said “Yeah, you have a point. Hmm…I think I would have to be really really drunk to relax and to be really into it”

Here’s the thing that scares me. What IF he did ask me to be involved in the threesome? What would I say?

Things to consider:

Harry is nice
Sally is nice
I am not attracted to Sally nor Harry
My sex resume would look SO much cooler, if I had “threesome” listed.
I would be seen as a significantly dirty (dirtier?) wife from my future husband, Paul Walker, which I am not sure is a good thing or a bad thing.
*Would my cool meter go down if I refused to do the threesome?

So, I’m sort of relieved that he didn’t ask. I mean, I have NO IDEA what I would say.

I’m at this point that I think sex is a dream. I mean, did I really have it? Does it really exist? Did I dream my previous sex life? I might of done the threesome to prove that I, too, had sex in a time where Clinton was still president..in a once upon a time type of time

It seems so vague and so far away, like this made up fantasy. It’s like I rode the dragon-dog-thing in the never-ending story..but did I really ride the dragon-dog-thing? Am I really Atreyu and is Atreyu really me?

Should Bastian, Atreyu and I be in a threesome? Are Bastian and Atreyu the same guy? If the dragon-dog-thing watched, would that be voyeristic beastiality?

I think wearing this gas mask all day has driven me up into a weird dimension.

I am stuck at home today. Both of my jobs called–no work for anyone.

The sky is even more orange. I feel like I am on Mars.

The streets are COVERED in ash. I think this will be the closest thing to snow that San Diego gets.

So much for quitting smoking, the air is like permanent barbecue.

More details later (read my previous post for what the hell is going on here)

I woke up this morning and looked outside my window. The sky was orange.

Orange.

Then, I thought, “Wow, this pushing back an hour thing really screwed up my sleeping schedule.” I look outside my window and the sky is black and orange…I suppose the weather’s way to wish us Happy Halloween?

Turn on the television:

Southern California, more specifically San Diego, is on fire.

I ended up having a deja vu experience– I just watched the television for like 8,000 hours like I did when I was in Brooklyn during the 9-11 fiasco. I didn’t think I would have to go through a constant news thing like this AGAIN.

My family was hungry, so I volunteered to go get us some chicken.

Driving on the freeway was a bizarre experience. You see, most of the fires are mostly north of us (about 10 to 15 minutes north) and the chicken place is north. The more north I got, the blacker the sky got.

And it was raining ashes.

Everyone’s car was rolled up because the stink of burning, uh,something was permeating in the air.

So I go through the drive-through to get my chicken (I hate it when they spell it drive-thru) and the guy in front of me says ‘It’s the end of the world! It’s raining ashes!’

I guess him saying that, especially with the sky all black and stuff, it really freaked me out.

I wonder if it IS the end of the world? I mean, that would be unfair to me goddamnit. I haven’t even had sex yet! (okay, I have, but don’t I get one last mercy fuck before the end?) I still have to make my first film! I still have to sky-dive! I still have to have a make-out session in the backseat of a car!!!

Anyway, so I’m driving back home and on the freeway are all these people with trucks and vans–with all their worldly possessions. Weirdly enough, there was a lot of people with horses.

They ordered everyone to evacuate (we’re still okay. The fire near us is “low priority” but my dad was like ‘We’re low priority, eh? I guess our fire will receive some status when somebody burns to death’ p.s. long story short, if you think I’m sarcastic and/or hilarious– you should meet my dad. King of dry humor), all firemen that are off-duty are told to report to station #28, and there’s the concern of us running out of water. Sheesh.

I wonder if I have to go to work today?

I once read this short story about a little girl [if this short story sounds familiar to ANYONE, could you tell me what it is? I can’t seem to find it and I LOVE it], I think her named was Margaret, and if I remember correctly, she lived on Mars…or was it Venus?

Anyway, the story is, all the humans evacuated Earth because we humans destroyed it.

So, on Mars or Venus or whatever, this group of school children are celebrating the reemergence of the sun. It comes out every 7 years or something. Otherwise, it just rains, rains, rains, and rains.

Margaret was this little girl with glasses who was teased mercilessly and the other school children decided to play a prank on her.

So just when the sun was about to come out, the other school children lock her in a closet. She cried and cried (those bastards!). Then when she got out, she missed the sun. God, I loved this story. I think it was the first short story I read (I was about 7 or 8..it was in third grade) where it didn’t have the usual happy ending.

The reason I bring up this short story is because, the way the sky looked today is how imagine their world looked. Black and Orange.

Anyway, wish us southern californians/san diegans some luck. I having a feeling this is going to fuck us over.

Well, at least our governor wasn’t an ex-wrestler…right?

My cell phone is momentarily out of service and it is times like these you really don’t know how dependent you are on technology.

Damn you technology!

I’ll probably get it fixed next week. My laziness precedes me.

One time, in college, I was eating on a table in Weinstein (the freshman dorm/cafeteria) and across the way, a couple tables over, is a girl.

She is animatedly talking on the phone.

I was jealous yet, I hated her at the same time. I mean, jealous that she had friends (I didn’t really have any at that time) but hated her because people who talk on their cell phones are just plain annoying.

So, she’s talking on the phone blah blah blah blah.

“Yeah, so I’m going to store…and this guy said this to me…and I was like oh, my god…yiou know what else happened? I know! Man, I know!”.

And then the MOST embarrassing thing happened.

Her PHONE RANG.

….

….

….

I’ll end on that while I watch “Down to Earth”, a remake of Warren Beatty’s “Heaven Can Wait”

I am sick. I have the flu.

I only get sick for ONE reason really. When the weather goes bezerk. It’s been hot, cold, hot, cold, hot…hotcoldhotcoldhotcold.

If I were a guy, I would be in big trouble, because my balls would be big, small, big, small, big, small bigsmallbigsmallbigsmall…and then my sperm would be two headed or something.

I totally stole that from Lewis Black. I should mention that I am obsessed with stand up comedy and stand up comedians. There’s a deep dark ugly side of me that wants me to abuse myself…and become a stand up comedian.

I don’t have the balls for it though.


In other news…

so if you didn’t know already..and some of you don’t, I “found” an apartment.

On the other side of the world. That’s pretty fucking cool.

The place is so big, I feel that we would do one of the following:

1. Instant Message each other because we’re too lazy to rendevous in the middle floor.

2. Call each other cell phones instead of yelling for each other or going to each other’s room. My old rooommates Jesse and Adrian used to do that.

Jesse: What are you doing?
Me: watching Lord of the Rings
Jesse: Let’s go get Boba
Me: where at?
Jesse: over at Clairemont
Me: do I have to move?
Jesse: if you drive, I’ll pay for you.
Me: Okay, meet me outside of my door in two minutes.

Our doors were only about 5 feet away. We were not that far. Furthermore, we can HEAR each other through the door TALKING to each other.

Jesse and Adrian used to always prank phone call me as well. Those bastards. Or they would jump out of the kitchen whenever I would get home.

I wonder what my new roommates will be like.

And if they would be able to handle the fact that I kick ass in all card games and the majority of all board games with the exception of trivial pursuit.

I can’t get that damn brown slice. Whatever is history. I know SHIT about history.

Lastly, out of the five roommates, THREE of them will have diaryland diaries. I think that it would be interesting to have three diaries from the same household especially since we each begun our diaries in different households.

I can imagine it like this:

Gumphood: I am going to bake a cake for my roomies tonight.

Kerbang: Gumphood has declared he will bake a cake. Will I live? We shall see.

Me: Hey, at least it’s free food. Who cares if I die.

But it’s not like I’m REALLY living with them though because I will be on the top floor.

I’ll be like a flower in the attic.

I fucking hate diaryland.

I updated an entry that took me 30 mintues to write and I lost it.

I lost it.

I lost it.

I’m going to bite my Nintendo controller now (My entry was about Nintendo)

I have allergies. It’s driving me crazy. It’s fucking hot here. Like 90 or something. Some Santa Ana shit.

I notice the more uncomfortable I am about the weather the more I like to swear.

But, yeah, I took two showers today, electric fan is on and I am wearing like daisy dukes with a tank top.

I mean, wasn’t summer like a couple of months ago? Isn’t it going to be November?

I think global warming is only in California. bastards.

I went to the dentist today (oh god, this is going to be a super boring entry, I can feel it) and the office was like, ON THE BEACH. I was sitting in my dental chair and staring at ships and water. Ah, such is the life of California.

I spoke to my bf (best friend/boy friend) Cooper today.

He is an assistant location manager in San Francisco.

He was totally pissed and said “Sharon, I think I don’t like film anymore. Stupid film shoots”

Apparently, his location manager yelled at him in front of everyone about avocados.

Avocados.

Some talent needed avocados right then and there. All the PAs didn’t have cars or something, so they sent the assistant location manager–Cooper.

Cooper had to search all through San Francisco for these damn avocados and when he finally found some, the credit card they gave him.

Yeah, it had no money

I worry about my film friends and these crazy stories about these crazy crews they work on.

I mean, those people who are crazy on shoots…HAD to be normal at one point..right?

So I fear they might end up like them and forget what it is to be “normal” or have some sort of sanity.

And not to yell at you about avocados.