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Today I woke up around 11 or 12ish…that was fun. Just as I was getting up Mom wanted to know if I’d like to go to see that one Tom Clancy film that opened today. Why not, right? So, I went with her, my brother and his little friend to see it, and was totally wowed. The movie was just fantastic. Morgan Freeman totally outstaged Ben Affleck (which isn’t too hard to do; I hate Affleck), and James Cromwell made a totally convincing/riviting performance as the President of the United States of America. I also thought Ciaran Hinds made an awesome Russian president, and he and Cromwell worked really well together. The only two things I didn’t like were 1. Affleck (like I said earlier, I hate that man—he can’t act and he reminds me strongly of the dumbjocks at CDO), and 2. the girlfriend (she had little or no point in the movie).

Let’s see…after that I didn’t do much, aside from hanging around. I had a terrible headache—I think it might be from the Mt. Lemmon fire, there’s debris everywhere here. I got/read a letter from Cristal, which was funnay because of her description of that fat chic (though it’s sad, really…). And, umm, I played the Sims for a bit. My Sim can play the piano and likes making out in the bathroom or library with her husband~

How sentimental our world is! After supper, I took Grant for a walk—and outside it was hot, I’m the first to admit it. And, admittedly, the heat in Arizona was probably the reason I was the only one outside, walking through a ghost-town neighborhood, yet in my opinion, the sunset atmosphere is the best part of the day. Yet the foliage, the gorgeous sunset, the view of the mountains, as I took it all in and thought how grateful and lucky I am, my headache seemed to evaporate. As we walked around, no one was in site. I looked from house to house—how prim and perfect they were, in such an upkept manner! One house had chairs sitting under a made-up porch, chairs facing the sunset, in the open, obviously there for show only. Another house had a fountain, lion statues, and a paved driveway up front, and it only looked nice. Yet another house had a porchswing, bought at Fry’s Food and Drug Store for $129.99 recently, yet no one was outside sitting there, enjoying it. But to Grant and me, these ornaments seemed like cleared desert. Nothing more.

The wash was so pretty, so tangible, so real. But underneath this surface were cardboard houses, people watching tv or playing on the computer, blocking out this beautiful, endless nature which surrounded and carressed Grant and me. And, we were the only ones outside to enjoy it~

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Jenn: What’d you do?
Jess: They played b-ball while I threw an orange thingie in the general vicinity of the net.

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[Talya is trying to explain to Jeff how to nail another person in croquet---a process in which you line your ball against the opponent's, put your foot over your ball, and whack your ball with your mallet, thus throwing your opponent way-the-hell-out there.]
Jeff: Yes, Talya, I too have passed high school physics.
[Jeff swings with his croquet mallet and totally misses the ball. Instead he hits his foot.]
Jessie: You obviously haven’t passed high school P.E. though.

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Bob Barker [on The Price is Right]: James, we’d like to give you this…
Announcer: A new dining set!
Jimmy [from the couch]: Oh, boy, a new dining set! I can imagine James at home…before the show, talking to his wife….”Ima gonna git you a new dining set! Nope, ferget a new car fer meself; I want to git you a dining set!”

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*doink*

No, I do not know why I just said that. Yay randomness.

Today I slept in until someone woke me up at a quarter to ten…then the brother-types had The Price Is Right on, so we watched that. It was like I told them, what is summer break without The Price Is Right? Nothing says summer like Bob Barker.

So, you want to know how to occupy Talya for five hours or more? Give her a puzzle to work on! Well, it only took me so long because it was a Puzzle 3-D—a lighthouse! I finished it and everything. I think tomorrow I’ll put it back in its box. While doing the puzzle I was playing all sorts of CD’s in the DVD player—mostly Moby, of course. While “Bodyrock” was going on, my mom came in.

“What group is this?” she asked.

“Moby.” Errk he’s only my all-time favorite musician…

“Who?”

“Moby.”

“Moody?”

“MO-BY!” I bellowed.

“Oh.” She listened some more. “I don’t like it.”

Well, gee, I didn’t ask for your opinion. And, you did like him last week when he performed on SNL. Ah, well. She did like my puzzle, though.

After doing the puzzle, we couldn’t stargaze, as planned because of the fire on Mt Lemmon, so we went and played croquet at Dennis Weaver instead (”we” being Jessie, Sean, Leeann, Jeff, and Grant. Sarah and Tasha were coming too, but we never saw Tasha, and Sarah showed just as we left). Croquet was fun. Funny, that is. I think we all enjoyed ourselves silly, and Leeann had the bright idea of us all going to Eegee’s afterwords (for those of you not in Tucson, it’s this business franchise all over the city…someone had the bright idea of coming up with a smoothie/ice drink thing that really hits the spot known as “Eegee’s slushies”). We all got the same thing, and had loads of fun there, too, except for an episode in which the people working there tried to lock us in. Bastards.

Then we all went home. So strange, it all is. Yoda I am~

Bug bites. Yes, it is summer here, and you know summer has officially started because so have the bug bites. You see, I am an unfortunate one whose epidermis is apparently cursed with a misquito’s idea of a feast. So, would you like to know how many bug bites are on my body as of yet? Let me count….1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11…plus the two on my foot, 13! :Oh wait, I forgot about the one that was on….umm, we’ll not count that one.

Sabb believes that misquitos came to Arizona with the introduction of CAP (Central Arizona Project) water (basically what they do is “purify” [meaning loading the water with chemicals so it can travel safely down dirty pipes only to get soiled again, except to a greater degree] water from the Colorado River). CAP water is so nasty; it usually comes out brown, and when Arizona first introduced it, our house pipes spontaneously combusted. CAP water also kills farmers’ crops, kills fish, bleaches pools, and messes with plumbing; and yet the bureacrats running the system refuse to at least try anything else (or simply can’t—we are in a desert, after all). I think they might want to introduce CAP to L.A., too, which means I’ll never escape it. damn. So, will the misquitos be there, too? Because I think I have enough scars from past summers to last me a lifetime~

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Jimmy [talking to Joey about job hunting]: You could work at that store [pointing at a langerie store]! That’d be a great job…and it’d be cool if they let you keep that maniquin on display and all [stares at maniquin]. Wow. Mom, do you think I could try there?

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Some of you are probably wondering why I didn’t blog last night. Well, last night I was so friggin frustrated that by the time I was turned off the computer and realized I still hadn’t blogged, the last thing I wanted to do was turn it on again. So, I didn’t.

You see, I’m trying to work on web design. And I don’t know a word of html (well a few common tags, but I swear, that’s IT). So now that I’m trying to turn THE BOOK into a full-fledged website, you can imagine what sort of toils lay before me. It’s friggin annoying, to say the least, and yet I’m probably about to go battle it out again! Sigh.

Last night I also finished The Inferno and started The Nanny Diaries. Actually I’ve been spending most of today reading The Nanny Diaries. Go read that book! It’s so fecking hilarious. This senior at NYU becomes a nanny for this upper-class, snotty New York family with one four-year-old son, and it’s just loaded with satire. Allow me to demonstrate:

I glance at the schedule and she’s right—I’m a veteran of every activity on the list.

Monday
2-2:45 Music lesson, Diller Quaile, 95th Stree between Park and Madison
(Parents pay an astronomical sum for this prestigious music school where four-year-olds usually sit in stone-cold silence as their caregivers sing nursery rhymes in a circle.)

5-5:45: Mommy and Me, 92nd Street Y on Lexington
(As the name implies, mothers are expected to go. Nevertheless, half of the group is nannies.)

Tuesday
4-5:00: Swimming lesson at Asphalt Green, 90th Street and East End Avenue
(One emanciated woman in a Chanel swimsuit and five nannies in muumuus with toddlers to “Get in the water!”)

Wednesday
2-3:00: Physical education at CATS, Park Avenue and 64th Street
(Deep in the bowels of a cold, dank church that smells like feet, thoroughly choreographed games for the pint-sized athlete.)

5-5:45: Karate, 92nd Street Y on Lexington
(Kids who quake with fear do fifty push-ups on their knuckles as a warm-up. The One class daddies attend.)

Thursday
2-2:45: Piano lesson at home with Ms. Schrade
(”Music” to be tortured by.)

5-6:00: French Class, Alliance Francaise, 60th Street between Madison and Park
(Standard afterschool activities conducted in another language.)

Friday
1-1:40 Ice skating, The Ice Studio, Lexington between 73rd and 74th Street
(Cold as fuck—and damp. Struggle through a thirty-minute “Change of Terror,” sharp metal blades flying everywhere so children can get on ice for forty minutes and come back out to change again.)

I will let you know when he is scheduled for the:
Optician
Orthodontist
Orthodic fittings
Physical therapist
Ayurvedic practictioner.”

LMAO! Well, for those of you who don’t get it, whatever. I think it’s great. There is a certain pleasure you can get out of reading that I can’t really explain. Those who are passionate about reading understand what I’m talking about.

This morning we rearranged my brother’s room furniture, which took a lot of work but at least the room looks a helluva lot better. There is more light now, which didn’t happen before. Erin came over in the morning and came up with the nicest idea for us going out-of-state: a correspondence kit. Let’s see if I can get you people here a linky….lookit that, my first hit!This is exactly what it is, though our book cover is green. Isn’t that kewlish?

In the afternoon we ran errands. We went to Target, the Director’s Chair (I picked out Alfred Hitchcock’s Lifeboat, or whatever it’s called—hey, it looked good), McDonald’s for a pick-me-up, and, er, I think that’s it. The part that took forever was Target because my brother had a run-on with goggles (don’t ask…dear Lord, please don’t ask…).

A veces…I don’t really remember what happened after that. I played a bit of Zoo Tycoon, read a bit, had dinner, and, er, that’s my life~

No, I have not gotten the stinking Harry Potter DVD yet. Sorry to bust your buttons, but I frankly did not enjoy the movie, and for me to get it would be hypocritical. I mean, I enjoyed certain aspects of the movie (e.g. Chris Rankin), but I felt like they fed way too much into the hype and shouldn’t have stayed so close to the cannon. Harry Potter may make a wonderful book but not necessarily a wonderful movie. I’ll go see the movie in theaters, but as for me to own it on DVD for it to only sit there and collect dust on my shelf—no thanks! I’ll prolly go rent it with some friends or something, however~

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Errk. I’m so disgusted at myself. Today I woke up, read a bit of Dante, played some Roller Coaster Tycoon for…I dunno how long, but eventually Jessie came in around 2p and liberated me. Then we spent the day watching more screens, playing The Sims, downloading stuff, playing DVD’s…well, it was a day of electronics, to say the least. I just know our generation is going to die as 40-year-olds of brain cancer from electromagnetic radiation. And I understand we are going to be aggressive pricks in our adulthood thanks to daycare.

But, hey! Jillian r/red Jerry’s story, and here is what she had to say:

“*YAY!*

I always loved that idea, Talya. Really makes you think. And the last line… ‘i gtg, c-ya!’ gives me a chill lol. I love these kind of outlandish-but-could-happen stories XD Bravo!”

XD Jill’s such a sweetie; she always encourages me and everyone surrounding her—those she believes in, that is. Ummm, if you want to read my story, just email me or something~

Mt. Lemmon, as any Zonie would know, is home of an idyllic setting for hiking, bicycling, walking, climbing trees, touring, &c. Mt. Lemmon has a tiny town situated deep into its mysterious woods, located at the end of the endless Tucson road. My family used to visit Mt. Lemmon frequently, more often in the summer or on a random Saturday than any other day. We’d make a day trip of it, taking our dog, eating at a little resteraunt or picnicking nearby, walking around and looking at the various cabins, and enjoying a small stream which would run parallel with the town. Twice in my childhood I had seen real, deep snow, and it was while atop Mt. Lemmon. I froze both times.

The fire cannot be stopped! Already it is heading its way to the tiny town, and with it, all of Tucson’s childhood memories will be consumed in the flames. ~May our pyre of memories burn hard, and burn rapidly, and may they die, die along with all the beauty that ever was there~

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Last night I cut down this story of Jerry’s for some editor who wanted it cut down to 1,500 words instead of 1,600. Maybe sometime on Tuesday I’ll remember to send it off, if I can finally remember to get off my lazy ass and find a stamp. Well, two stamps if you count the SASE.

Jerry also decided to torture his slave a little more and put his cruel whip down on getting another story done, which Jillian’s still in the process of reviewing. I promise I will put her review up ASAP.

Today I started work. Started? Boy, that was a fluke. You see, when they scheduled me in for 12.30p today, they sort-of meant 12.30p last Sunday. But, apparently it was not my fault, it was the stupid managers’, so my boss wasn’t mad at all—not mad at me, that is. Hey, I put on my application/resume thingie that I could not start until after May 23, and anyone who lives near CDO knew that graduation was going on last week, too. He was frankly furious with the managers, though, because they assumed I quit and did not schedule me in for this upcoming week. So, I get another week off because the managers screwed up. I love my job.

By the way, my boss still had me work today, because apparently someone else got messed up on the scheduling, so I got to do concession today, making the big bucks in commissions. SUPER COMBOS! I still got the salesmanship skills. But, whatever. It’s a summer job, and it’s money, which is good~

I went on moby.com and went on their message boards. Message boards are so predictable now, it seems—you have your flames, and you have your random posts. You have your trying-to-be-intelligent-but-nonetheless-trite posters (that would be me), and you have your moderators who everyone knows, even the newbies. It’s a never-ending cycle. Except in this case, the cycle seems unusually quick, which bothers me—how is someone who barely spends a few hours online a day expected to keep up with the general discussion? These Moby-boards strike me as rather fast for simply message boards—I suppose they’re rather busy because it is, after all, a mainstream website. Whatever.

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Some of you were wondering where I dissapeared to yesterday. Well my family decided to hitch off and go to a resort in Phoenix. We’ve stayed there before, it’s very nice—swimming, mini-houses for suites, croquet, nearby golf courses, yep, your basic old-people metropolitan.

While there we went out to dinner at a Persian shish-ka-bob which had curly Arabic hand-writing all over the windows. I felt like one of the kids in National Lampoon’s Vacation series, because we were the only ones in the Middle Eastern-themed restaurant. The waiter spoke with a definate accent, and he had a burlish demeanor. He was still smiling though, as though happy that there was still some degree of business out there, yet I felt a definate tension there, tacit as it was. There was a tv in the corner, playing the Middle Eastern channel or something, because it was all in Arabic and was playing some psycho Arabic music. Eventually it switched over to the news, and there were two announcers, a man and a woman. The woman was wearing one of those hijabs. I couldn’t believe it; they were doing some undercover story of Sept. 11, so our family witnessed the airplanes crash into the buildings over and over again.

The food was actually quite good, and I for one tried to make the best of the situation. When we walked out, though, my mom was saying how she felt so sorry for those people. I did, too. We’re not at war with the Persians, you know, and these people are suffering for it (though I will be the first to say that if they were smarter, they’d turn off the news). Even if we were at war with the Persians, I do not see how there can be any prejudiced emotions against immigrants who live in America and eat our food, just like us, and are trying to make a living~

Today I got the new Moby CD, 18, and I highly enjoy it, so go get it and listen. If not, download his soon-to-be big hit, “We Are All Made of Stars.”

Did any of you see how big and pretty and full the moon in my city was tonight? Oh, it was marvelous, but it was shy too, hiding behind the purple clouds. Why is it that just as the moon chooses to be big, it decides to hide as well? That pretty shy thing. It needs to be more competent of its natural beauty~

Lament for My Wristwatch.
At 10.14p and 40 seconds on May 23, my wristwatch finally passed away. It was a decent wristwatch—a brown leather band, and it told the time, date, and moon phases. It was a Wrangler, which I bought at Walmart four years ago for $19.99 (plus tax). It lasted on my wrist all this time (I only had to change the batteries twice and the band once) until last Thursday, when I happened to bang it into the door while walking out of the bathroom. I probably could have fixed it, had I found this integral peice which went into the watch. But, I hardly checked it until I looked at my watch yesterday to see what time it was. And it was then I thought it was 10.20 and 40 seconds in the morning, but when I looked at the clock hanging in Marshall’s, I found I was wrong. I realized I thought I got up at 10.20 and 40 seconds in the morning as well. And, my watch said it was still May 23. So it was—my watch died.

So, my watch is gone forever. I may have this one on my wrist, but it still feels foreign, and though it may tell the time, it will never replace the beautiful watch I wore every day for four years~