I aspire to be a cat burgler minus the cat and the burgler-ing

In the silence, come the answers.

If you really want to get an idea of how someone’s life is, you can just go inside their home and let the stuff do the talking. They say that you can tell alot about a person by their home.  What they don’t tell you is that this is a pretty good gage at how their life really is.

You see, things contaminate our every existance.  The collection of ones “junk” and organizational systems show you more than you would ever imagine if you only pay attention.

For me, today marks a new direction of sorts.  You see, I didn’t end up in Los Angeles originally because I wanted to.  At least, it wasn’t my first choice.

After leaving San Diego and on to Bakersfield (the armpit divider between southern and northern california) I vowed that I would move back to the one place, despite having grown up in an entirely different state, that I was able to call “home.”  I even kept the same area code on my cell phone.  If you see the 858, that would be me.  I will always be an 858 girl.  Except now, I will also be a 310.

After my divorce, I struggled quite a bit.  I had been that “stay at home mother” working jobs that I could do from home and then when I hit the ground running, he just stayed in place.  It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that had met us or even see us together.  I was that wild horse and he was just… not the running type.

I remember the day it happened… or well, the “it’s time to realize that no one is going to give a crap about you but you” moment.  After I got let go from my game mod job due to being late because of spousal abuse, he hit me again.  This time, it was with an eviction notice.

You see, my ex husband fled to be with his new girlfriend that he’d met in a video game while I was away at a conference trying to find my next job.  I wish I was kidding.  Unfortunately, I am not.

A little bit different than your average Love tap

A little bit different than your "average" Love tap

He’d promised me a lot of things when first got together.  And I believed every single one of them.  Why?  Because I was an idiot.  Even after all was said and done he’d made me yet another promise-to pay the rent for the remainder of the lease.

Liar liar pants on fire.

I guess I should have saw that one coming.

I had so little money then.  I was but a broke artist, though when I was with him, I rarely was able to create.  But that’s another story.

I was a victim then because I allowed myself to be one.  While it is a part of my past, and thus, a part of my identity, I’ve come to peace with it.  There are so many stories that proceed this.  So many tales that I am forever thankful for being able to experience.  Even if it took a man hitting me for me to wake up, get started on the road to independence, and really live life again.

Dead eyes. Lost inside.

Dead eyes. Lost inside. Circa marriage 1.

When I moved to Bakersfield, it was rushed.  I never wanted to move back there.  I fought it as much as I could.  But it wasn’t time for me to be home yet.  And at the time, San Diego didn’t feel like home anyway.

I remember how much disarray my apartment was.  I moved from a 2 bedroom condo in a upper middle class area of San Diego (Tierrasanta to the locals) to a studio hole in the wall in Bakersfield. Why there? Nepotism.  My cousin was the landlord originally.

While I wasn’t completely unhappy in my time there, you could tell that inside I was miserable and my apartment showed it.

I looked for things to make myself happier.  The things that had the greatest effect were those of which were most childlike in nature. One of which, won me the nickname of “the mermaid” as this curtain hung over my bed (which ironically, is still over my bed to this day) because, well that was the only thing I could find to cover up the institution-like window.

These are a few of my favorite things

These are a few of my favorite things

I found it in a box one day somewhat randomly.  It had been something that my dad had given me for my first apartment years before I got married.  My husband and I thought it was too ridiculous to ever use.  I’ve come to realize that he was just a stick in the mud.

That curtain got me into trouble too.  I hung it in the window of my street facing apartment.  When the blinds were open or up, it was no mistaking which unit was mine.  In the mornings the sun would shine through it and the colors would pop.  Trudging along in Bakersfield, it would make me smile to come home to my one piece of sunshine.  My landlord didn’t agree.  She thought it was tacky.  She also dresses like shes ready for the nursing home and she’s not even 30.

While living in the apartment, I serendipitously met a wonderful pair of friends- Drew & Leah.  (Ironically, they lived across from my soon to be future bat from hell landlord.)  They helped to make that place somewhat bearable.  But unfortunately, they couldn’t make that place home for me.

beach balls are serious business

beach balls are serious business

Because only the raddest dare rock bling on their coffee mug

Because only the raddest dare rock bling on their coffee mug

My grandmother is a packrat.  She has amassed a great amount of wonderful junk.  So much so, that she has 2 houses full of it.  They say this behavior is generally inherited.  Hands raised for being a statistic.  I wonder if there are meetings like AA.

I later made  a brief stop in Claremont- suburbia upper middle class Los Angeles near the dreaded 909.  It was my dad’s compromise to not sending me back to San Diego, despite challenging me to find an apartment there in a few hours and well, I won that bet.

Claremont was… alright.  The village was a bit like a mini San Francisco.  Except San Francisco has a ton more and is a place I would actually consider living.

City of numerology

It hosts… the number 5.  Looking around you will see that it repeats numerous instances throughout the town.  There are 5 colleges.  There are 5 movie rooms at the theatre.

This is where I started to get a bit of OCD cleaning traits.  Part of me believes it may have been a positive after effect from my volatile relationship that I had with Big (the obsessive compulsive cleaning emotionally unavailable guy from San Diego).

I dumped quite a bit with the last move, and this one as well.  My roommate was also an artist (read: slob).  But here I found myself cleaning up after her.  Frankly the mess bothered me.  That, and she had animals.

And while I was happier there than I had been in Bakersfield, you could tell in my eyes if you were paying attention, that it still wasn’t quite right.

Porch sweeper, dream sleeper

As my lease came to a close I knew that I no longer wanted to be there.  I was working my ass off and reaping nothing in return.  I barely had time for me.  It was work work work.

“When you pay your own bills you can live wherever you want to.” dad told me.

“I already do pay my own bills dad.  I’m going home.  I’m not happy here.”

He shoved a pennysaver in my hand.

“There’s apartments in your price range right here.  Do it.”

But I’d already met Steve (my roommate) then.  Another after effect from dating that same OCD douchebag many of you all know and sometimes love.  I’m only half joking of course.  He’s got a good heart when he choose to share it.

But enough about failed romances, back to my roommate!  Little did I know from that fateful night- the tweetup in LA hosted by Greg Barnett, that I was on the way home.

Why hi, nice to meet you soon to be roommate!

Why hi, nice to meet you soon to be roommate!

Yes, I said it.. home.

I’ve lived here a year and yet, you wouldn’t know it from my room.  There are still quite a few bins out.  Clothes strung everywhere.  My closet is full of hangers.  My dresser is near empty.

Today is the day that that changes.  Consider me booked with being boring for the interim.  I was due for a responsible day or 3.  Have to balance with the karma and all.  I secretly aspire to be more boring (but never really boring) anyway.

I didn’t want to move here when I first got here.  I wanted to be in San Diego.  It is the one place that I’ve been able to call home.  But I know now, that it will not likely be where I hang my… wigs.

Dear San Diego,

I must profess my undying love for you.  You are the lover I will always come back to.  But you are also the one where I won’t end up with until possibly the end of the movie when my ashes are sent among the city after I expire.

I have fallen capture to Los Angeles.  It’s “cesspool” of fun carried me away.  My childhood dreams and fantasies… never forgotten but evolved into things you just can’t give me.

I’m “unpacking” today finally.  It took me a long time to get here.  This is my home now.  You will always have… pieces of my heart, but I’m afraid you will have to share me.

Ours is a tale that will live on forever.  Written in granite amongst the waves and never to be washed away.

Yours Always,

Jennifer

***

Dear Los Angeles,

I just broke up with San Diego.  I let her down easily.  I think she bought it.  She doesn’t know I’ve just been toying with her.  She’s wonderful but it just wasn’t working out.  I’m a terrible person.  Comfort me?

By the way, I have something else to tell you:

You have yourself another lifer now.

Cheers,

Scandalous

It’s time to take more ownership of my stuff and not the other way around.  But hey, at least I’ll have plenty of junk to send my mother right?

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Comic-Con

As some of you may or may not know, I actually semi “hitchhiked” my way to Comic Con this year.   I found it only suiting that I write a “survival” guide on my adventure to Comic/Video Game/Movieland last weekend.  Here’s a snippet in video blog format where I interviewed con goer Aaron and he let me look at some of the amazing sketches he was able to get from the artists there.

For a full, more in depth list of my tips and things learned while at the Con, you can look over at the article I wrote for Girls Entertainment Network.  I hope you enjoy them both as much as I… had the fun of learning some of them the hard way.

Lasts.

“This is the last phone call I will make to you. I cannot do this anymore.  You are emotionally toxic to me and I do not like what you turn me into.  I think that it would be best if we did not talk to eachother.  I am very hurt and frustrated about the whole Comic Con mess.  You refuse to effectively communicate with me in a positive fashion. If we see eachother, I will smile and wave, but do not want to speak or otherwise interact with you. I do not feel that you respect me as a person- love interest or otherwise- because if you did, you wouldn’t do this.  It’s poor form and I won’t have it.  Goodbye.”

That was the voice mail I left the grip before heading down to Comic Con this week.  It felt overdue but needed to be done.  In the past I will admit: I wasn’t the perfect girlfriend to him.  I wasn’t good in many ways to him at all.  So many things that have transpired just in the last month, let alone prior that I just couldn’t handle it anymore.  Hense the pause to my blog and privatizing of my main twitter account.

This wasn’t the first conference fubar from him.  We talked about going to numerous cons together and none of them ever happened.

CES:

He was supposed to get the passes and make the travel and hotel arrangements.  I was working at EA at the time.  I requested the time off months in advance.  He assured me he would take care of it.  I was excited to go to my first real trip to Vegas with my then significant other.

A month before the event, I realized there was another major conference happening at the same time.  I asked him if he’d booked the hotel.  He assured me that he would take care of it, and that he’s waited to book before and never had an issue with it.

“It’s Vegas.  There’s always something.”

Two weeks pass.  I ask him again for another status update.  Did he get the passes as he said he was?  He still hadn’t booked the hotel. Passes still hadn’t arrived.

Days before the conference, the tickets still had not arrived.  He hadn’t booked the hotel.  I think you can see where this is going.  Vegas never happened.

E3:

This was one of two cons a year that is the most important for me to attend- from both a business and personal aspect.  We were going to go together.

I was told I couldn’t get into the conference using the site that I write for as my press credentials.  (That turned out to be wrong.)   He told me he didn’t think he was going to be able to get in either.

And then I saw the bragging tweets…

I did go to E3 this year, but I did so on my own accord.  We did not see eachother during that time.  Instead we argued and the day that we’d planned to see eachother, he left without warning for an out of state roadtrip for two weeks.  I found out when I got home via a blog post.  Thank you for the consideration.

Comic Con:

When I saw that one of the show dates had been sold out I immediately filed for another way in.  There was not going to be anything that would stop me from attending.  I wasn’t going to take a chance that I might not get in press wise.  This one was in the city that has my heart.

Again he told me he would take care of the hotel and transpo.  While I have been doing a few freelance gigs, the market is slow right now.  I had a microscopic budget and I was relying on him to follow through.

The long story short of it is that he didn’t. On Wednesday night I received a text telling me that I should get a ride down so I could be there for the panels I was supposed to cover for the site I was representing.  I needed to be there and this was now getting in the way of my work.

I realized I could not allow this to continually happen.  I was giving him too much power to hurt me, and it wasn’t good for anyone. I was turning into this person that I didn’t want to be around, let alone want to be around other people.  I had escaped in myself and disappeared off the radar to most everyone.

“This is the last phone call I will make to you. I cannot do this anymore.  You are emotionally toxic to me and I do not like what you turn me into.  I think that it would be best if we did not talk to eachother.  I am very hurt and frustrated about the whole Comic Con mess.  You refuse to effectively communicate with me in a positive fashion. If we see eachother, I will smile and wave, but do not want to speak or otherwise interact with you. I do not feel that you respect me as a person- love interest or otherwise- because if you did, you wouldn’t do this.  It’s poor form and I won’t have it.  Goodbye.”

A weight was lifted off my shoulders this week.  Miraculously, I was not only to attend the con, but thanks to people in my life- I not only did, but it was life changing.  I took a stand for myself again.  I got up and walked away.

I was told when I was little that I was a hopeless case.  Since then, I rarely can give up on people despite how much they fail me.  It has lead to many problems with being taken advantage of: from my ex husband raping me, to a girl stealing money from me, etcetera etcetera.

I’m no ones puppet.  My friends look to me for strength and I let some dude piss all over me emotionally.  It was time I did something about it.

I am a fighter and a lover.  I don’t deal well with additional drama.  It was not needed at all.  In a town I love and call home you will not do that to me.  The first half of the first day I let him bother me, but it was smooth sailing after that.  And then I started to feel guilty about it.

I called to apologize for being so abrasive.  I told him he’d hurt me and I just did not think his actions were things that I would ever want someone to do to me, weather it was a friend, lover, or even an acquaintance.  I texted him.  I was testing him.  He passed and did not contact me the entire time I was gone.

When I got home my curiousity got the best of me.  I looked at his timeline to see if he had gone.  This is a person whom I used to share my love of comic books with that I care deeply about.  I was curious how his trip had gone & if he’d gone.

Sure enough, he had.  We had somehow missed eachother at parties.  Fate would not let us see eachother.  I think it was a mixed blessing.

I messaged him a hello.  We talked a bit about the con.  He let me make the step.  I remained firm.  I did not want this vicious cycle to continue any longer.  Who would have thought that after all that,  I think there may have been some small steps towards progress into a potential friendship again.  I guess I really am emotionally masochistic sometimes.  Here’s to a closing of an old chapter and a start of a new one.  Finally, its about time.

Postal Project in found art

To Mr Cheng

To Mr Cheng

I’ve always been a little off.  This idea has been something that has actually done by my family at one point, but for a reason that wasn’t art.

The picture seen here is from Swedish Artist Eric Ericson.  He spent many years sending objects through the mail and these are a few of them.  I have every intention of copying it.  My mother does not know it yet, but she is about to get sent random miscellaneous objects from me.  So if anyone reading finds something quirky that they want me to mail (within reason), I will send it to my mother.  And when I say within reason, I’m talking stuff that she will likely just laugh at as opposed to something I will get a lecture about.  As it is I’m sure she’s going to mail me a list to therapists in the area and tell me to seek help after this.

I called my grandmother this morning and told her about it.  She is doing much better.  She told me she’d received the postcards I’d sent her and asked me about my weekend.  She was more curious about the things I was doing.  She told me many tales about her life.  We talked a little bit about the hospital and then I mentioned this.

My friend the dark prince said he will help me in the experiment if I want to send him things.  The project is for art as well as humor.

My grandmother reminded me of the time my grandfather did this.  He is far from being an artist though.

In a box somewhere is the muffler from my dad’s old Seabring convertible.  My dad was moving back to California from IL and wanted to try and get a trailer hitch on the back.  Grandpa’s brilliant idea was to saw off the muffler- which he did- take a permanent marker to it and some stamps and mail it to my dad’s new address in California.

It did indeed get there and has been a family joke for nearly 10 years now.

Seeing this post made me smile and so did my grandmother.  I told her I was going to send various objects to my mother and not tell her beforehand.  My grandmother didn’t help.  She actually encouraged the project.

“I found one of your shoes here.  Just one.  You should send it to him or your mother.” she said with a giggle.

“Oh really?  Which one?”

“Some black and white one.”

I told her some of the things I planned on sending my mother already.  Just miscellaneous crap that’s around the apartment that I really have no clue why it’s there.  I told my roommate to let me know what he finds while he’s cleaning to send to mom.

“I may be little but I’m odd.” I quoted Eddie Munster.

“I know.” he said and chuckled.

And now my postman is going to know too.  Yay!

Epilogue:  My grandmother thanked me for the cards I’ve sent.  I told her I will send her more.  She told me “Thank you for making me smile today.  Thank you for making me laugh and feel full of life again.”  I think this is the start of a beautiful morning.

Epilogue 2: I’m going to see if I can actually tape some of this but will need a partner in crime and would prefer not to do it at the post office near me as I’m there twice a week as it is already.  If you are interested in being said counterpart please send me an email to inquire about this position or I may just post it on Craigslist.

Vlog: I am a character!

Upon recently hearing about the 140 conference in New York next month, I was disappointed that I didn’t know about it sooner. I was talking to my friend Rachael (the other half of this video @1indienation on Twitter) who is one of the characters attending, and she told me I should go.

For those of you that don’t know what exactly it is, here’s a little bit about it taken directly from @jeffpulver ‘s site dedicated exclusively to the contest.

The 140 Character Conference (#140conf) will be taking place at New World Stages in New York City on June 16/17. Since announcing this conference, I continue to be humbled by the people who have come forward to be a part of it. I thank the worldwide twitter community for their interest and continued support. (Feel free to follow @140conf on twitter for updates)

While the original scope of the event was to explore “the effects of twitter on: Celebrity, “The Media”, Advertising and (maybe) Politics”, the scope of the event has expanded and we will be covering these topics and a lot more. #140conf will be taking a look at twitter as a platform and will be taking a look at some of the industries which have been disrupted by the advent of twitter.

The schedule reflects the great variety of the subject areas we will be exploring and discussing at #140conf. The speakers represent a “cast of characters” whose presence will help define this event. Our cast members are flying in from around the world to join us. And while not all members of the cast will have formal speaking roles, many will and their presence will be felt at the event. The cast members joining us will be coming from as far as away as: Perth, Australia and Doha, Qatar as well as from across North America, Europe and the Middle East. This will be a gathering of people with a variety of backgrounds and the one thing everyone who will be there has in common is twitter.

The schedule for this two day event will be unique and fast paced. It is my intention to provide a platform for as many people as possible to share their thoughts and engage in conversation with the attending delegates.

However, I am one of the many sacrificial lambs left wayside in our wonderful economic wake. While I’ve had some freelance work in the interim of that happening (by the way if anyone is looking for a copywriter or a personal assistant in Los Angeles- or anything that can be done remotely if not in LA, please by all means email me), I personally can’t afford the trip to go, let alone the conference and the rest of the sh’bang.

And so, a small video project came about. A day trip adventure to the promenade in Santa Monica, talking to random unusual strangers, toys, balloon animals, friendship, and, of course, foul language. This was just one day with me… and for anyone that reads my twitter stream, or either of my blogs, I am confident that I am indeed a character. I’m a whimsical and seemingly carefree, enigmatic woman fresh to the space and ready to make my mark.

I aspire to make the in person connections with as many as possible.

  • I want to hear your stories and have adventures with you.
  • I want to “lose virginities” with you. (Did I mention that I’ve never been to New York before?)
  • I think the trip would be excellent documentary fodder.

Life is all about the experiences and the people in your life that add to them.  I know New York would be something memorable.  So please, take a look, laugh a little, vote, and then twitter “send @scandalous to the #140conf !”

Cheating/ Mission complete

This is just a small blog to say… Horray!  I met the goal.  NaBloPoMo for the month of August.  And man what a ride it was.

I don’t think that I could have picked a better month to do it either.  The move to LA has been a rollarcoaster of adventure, heartache, passion, debauchery, and of course… lots and lots of business.

Who knew so much could be jam packed into 1 months time?  It really makes you take a step back and think.

I am making more commitments to myself on a daily basis.  Yes, that’s me trying out that other c word.  It’s a biggun.

I am finding that I am becoming more and more dedicated and focused as time goes by.  I am learning where exactly it is where I want to be, where my heart is, where I am headed, what I will or will not put up with.. etcetera etcetera blah blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

Love.

“Hate.”

I never really hate anything.  I honestly believe that that word should be abolished.

On that tangent, I also believe that the word love is overused too.

The things and people that I can say I genuinely love, I can count on one hand.  The fact that it’s more than 1 finger leads me to believe I am incredibly blessed, in as blessed as a non religious person can be.

Life is an adventure.  I am learning so much everyday.  I want to learn more.  I crave it.  It will happen.

NaBloPoMo was more than just a month of consistent blogging to me.  It was a dedication and personal commitment to myself.  I was successful. I am successful.  I have the potential to be even more successful in all areas of my life if I only work hard for it.

Is it bad to be your own number 1 fan?  Hell someone has to be right?  Scratch that.  I’m my number -4 fan.  For some reason I’m blessed by 3 beautiful children who rank higher than I could ever imagine…

</cheese>

When random is routine

Once upon a time…

I often get lost on purpose. There seems to be a comfort in the unknown. Of the excitement and fear of going missing in an urban jungle.

I told my friends I’d be there in 20 minutes, but once I saw the glow, I was drawn to it. Maybe it’s ADD. Maybe I’m just a constant tourist.

When I lived in IL there was a road that went past an oil field. Nothing but wasteland and metal and a straight stretch of road. Familiar.

I remember looking up at my daddy in pigtails and loose teeth…

“Is this a city? Is this where you work?”

My dad always worked downtown. Your stereotypical corporate banker. Horrible taste in any decor. Suitcase. Double breasted.. not pinstripe. Style and him were never paired, and he didn’t care. Hell all of his socks were the same color so he doesn’t have to make an effort making sock pairs.

Awesome. I always hated making sock pairs. It was the dreaded family chore we’d put off for months. 3 kids. That’s a shitload of socks. And that’s why the only ones I own have obnoxious designs and patterns on em. Well, not all of them. I went to a catholic school… I love argyle socks. I guess that makes me a bit weird. or cliche. or both.

But back to the tale.
Years later. I learn to drive. It’s actually a main road… or pseudo main road. It was somewhere I had to drive all the time. You could speed down that road. I love to speed. Bad bad bad.

A little secret. This was my piece of solace. This was my piece of… unconventional detox. Zen in a city of lights.

Sunday night on the way to my friends place for amazing homemade pizza, olympics ceremony endings (truth be told I really didn’t care but my friends found it gorgeous), booze, a favorite movie of the crew-beerfest, and Civ4.

I hate Civ 4. I love the Diablo series. But who the hell doesn’t. Not my style. But whatever. Give me an RPG or an MMO any day. Lan party? FPS it up. Frag frag frag.

I got consumed by lights. I don’t know this city. I’m constantly lost.

Which one of you cares to be my personal GPS or come along for the ride?  Srsly I would adore it if someone bought me a GPS- my roommate would love you too.  I need to start a fund.
I’ve been here 5 weeks. So much to blog about but not enough time.
I want to work with casting. (There’s a story coming about that too)

I want to be a suit. Omg I’m my dad… but with a much much cooler job. Or.. well um.

Broke artist. Rich in dreams though.

They say that people are in exactly the place that they should be.  Months ago when San Diego fell apart.. Wow.  I am just a vessel- taking the wheel to wherever it guides me.

Because I don’t have GPS 😉