Recently I won this amazing radio station contest that claimed it would "change the life" of the winner. Prizes included a new car, dinner one a month for a year, lunch once a month for a year, weekend getaway once a month for a year, two watches a month for a year (? weird, I know), new wardrobe, cell phone bill paid, golden ticket to see all the live in-studio performances over the next year (arguably the coolest prize in the package), and an apartment ("loft") to live in for a year. There's video of me going crazy winning this package, but in the days following the win, I've been going crazy trying to figure out a way to keep it all
On top of the fact that I have to report the prize value as earned income on my taxes and have it leined at an increased rate, the Stadium Loft Anaheim people are claiming the value of the apartment at $4400 a month. $4400 dollars! Not pesos, not units, not cents, DOLLARS! Ridic! I looked up comprable units in the surrounding area and the median rate for a comprable space is $1900. At a modest 30% taxation, I would pay over $1300 a month for my "free" apartment....that I am not allowed to sublet, transfer or add additional persons to the lease of
It would be easy enough to just decline the prize, but I'm so pissed that the company offering the apartment clearly entered it as a prize with an inflated valued knowing no one would ever live there. When I called the marketing company representing the property managers and expressed my views on the situation- citing the fact that the very unit they had told me would be mine was listed on their website for sale at $289,000 (making a year's rent worth about 1/6 of the total cost to OWN), showcasing some lack of seriousness at renting the unit- she took a pregnant pause, exhaled and admitted the units were never really intended to be rented
At this point, I've contacted the radio station, the Loft people, the marketing firm and several tax attorneys about the situation and am still without a resolution. The radio station has bounced it back to their legal department for review, but I'm not holding my breath
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Deleting pictures is not nearly as cathartic as tearing them up...
Anybody else have the screensaver application that cycles through all the pictures on your computer? Except maybe that certain subfolder that has the pictures you don't accidentally want filling your 17" screen while your nieces and nephews are watching? Yea! That one!
Well, I often let my computer go to screensaver just to get the G (ish) rated photo show and I've been finding myself turning away lately when pictures of my most recent ex-idiot (the one who- among other things- spent $200 on a dog after I bought him a plane ticket to come visit and then declined to spend money on anything the whole time he was here) flash across the screen. Watching the show today I decided that I should delete the pictures but found that I couldn't do it
Problem 1) too sentimental. Bad as some of the times were (he didn't shower for three days and actually put on deoderant before getting into bed), there are good memories, and more importantly, good lessons, in there somewhere
Problem 2) what's the point? I don't get to drag and drop him from my life; can't clear the cache of locations visited with him. There's not enough memory that would be freed up in my attempt to rid myself of his memories so I've left the pictures...for now.
I'm sure one night I'll have one too many tumblers of Diet Pepsi & Gelson's brand Canadian whisky and scour my computer for all related files, send them to the garbage and permanently delete them. But c'mon...I know myself too well. Should that stage of drunkenness ever be reached, I'll run to the geek squad the next morning, claim to have no knowledge of their disappearance and get them recover my shitty pictures...only to delete them again two months later!
However, I don't see it happening any time soon, because there's just no passion exerted, no finality, no point achieved from point, click, delete.
PS- I never EVER tore up a picture of David Duchovny. Even when he married Tore-up Leoni. Bet y'all have torn up a picture or two...
Well, I often let my computer go to screensaver just to get the G (ish) rated photo show and I've been finding myself turning away lately when pictures of my most recent ex-idiot (the one who- among other things- spent $200 on a dog after I bought him a plane ticket to come visit and then declined to spend money on anything the whole time he was here) flash across the screen. Watching the show today I decided that I should delete the pictures but found that I couldn't do it
Problem 1) too sentimental. Bad as some of the times were (he didn't shower for three days and actually put on deoderant before getting into bed), there are good memories, and more importantly, good lessons, in there somewhere
Problem 2) what's the point? I don't get to drag and drop him from my life; can't clear the cache of locations visited with him. There's not enough memory that would be freed up in my attempt to rid myself of his memories so I've left the pictures...for now.
I'm sure one night I'll have one too many tumblers of Diet Pepsi & Gelson's brand Canadian whisky and scour my computer for all related files, send them to the garbage and permanently delete them. But c'mon...I know myself too well. Should that stage of drunkenness ever be reached, I'll run to the geek squad the next morning, claim to have no knowledge of their disappearance and get them recover my shitty pictures...only to delete them again two months later!
However, I don't see it happening any time soon, because there's just no passion exerted, no finality, no point achieved from point, click, delete.
PS- I never EVER tore up a picture of David Duchovny. Even when he married Tore-up Leoni. Bet y'all have torn up a picture or two...
Saturday, September 20, 2008
If I couldn't have a healthy relationship with a man...
Oh wait. I can't. Let's revisit that later.
If I were a desperate c-rag in love with my roommate and had never been within 20 feet of a human penis....
What would I do with my day?
Oh, I would get up and tag pictures of the roommate I'm hopelessly in love with on facebook. And then I'd hump my teddy "bear".
God, I'm so happy I can get laid by flesh and blood and not plush and buttons.
If I were a desperate c-rag in love with my roommate and had never been within 20 feet of a human penis....
What would I do with my day?
Oh, I would get up and tag pictures of the roommate I'm hopelessly in love with on facebook. And then I'd hump my teddy "bear".
God, I'm so happy I can get laid by flesh and blood and not plush and buttons.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Ooohhhhhh Duchovny...
I have loved you for...many years; spent half my life pining for you. Would give to you many of my rings and then some. But alas...you've gone and become a sex fiend with/for somebody else. This would hurt less if I weren't watching Californication right now and realizing how damn hot you are. Really hot. 40 whatever and going hot. Shit. Thank god for Fat Jack or I really might wade through the pervies and find you in sex rehab. Heart, DD
Friday, August 22, 2008
Idiot #3
The Flying Idiot.
I met this idiot at camp. The Poconos. Summer of....'02. I was just 21. And this awkward Welsh bastard catches my eye. We competed in a decathalon over the second half of the summer (the first half was spent chasing a bisexual canadian...again, another blog) which I don't think anyone won. Anyhoo...wooed this bastard like crazy and failed to make any progress until the last days of camp when we...made out for 20 minutes in front of my cabin.
This guy didn't have a girlfriend to go back to. No job to focus on. I think he was just...indecisive? Who knows. But, um, at the end of the summer we all left camp and went to NYC and spent the night at the Milford Plaza hotel where I planned to, um, have him fly his plane into my hangar. unfortunately, as the deed was about to be done, our friend Beth wanders in drunk and wet from splashing in central park fountains and starts chattering away in the bed next to us. As we try- unfruitfully- to shut her up, other people start wandering in and there is no sex.
Later I travel to the UK- not JUST to make sext w/ the flying idiot...though it was a big priority- to hang out. On NYE '02/'03, we spend the night at our friend Nic's and....do not make sex! How does a girl as horny as me allow this?? I do not know. I later go to Wales, where this idiot lives with his mom, break his shitty Ikea bed, and have no sex.
A year-ish later, I go- primarily- to visit the gay but doesn't know it idiot, and end up visiting with THIS idiot at another friend's house in Manchester. We get hot, and drunk, and in the same bed...and did not make sex. It's unbelievable. I still think about this idiot- in many ways, including romantically- and am sad that all our "romantic" encounters ended so innocently.
So the song, "Do you wanna make love to me?", is for you, not because i wonder as much, but because a part of me still wants to.
Oh, flying idiot, I miss you. Didn't you say that you were coming to the states this year? Can't we add LA to the list of no-sex stops? just asking...
I met this idiot at camp. The Poconos. Summer of....'02. I was just 21. And this awkward Welsh bastard catches my eye. We competed in a decathalon over the second half of the summer (the first half was spent chasing a bisexual canadian...again, another blog) which I don't think anyone won. Anyhoo...wooed this bastard like crazy and failed to make any progress until the last days of camp when we...made out for 20 minutes in front of my cabin.
This guy didn't have a girlfriend to go back to. No job to focus on. I think he was just...indecisive? Who knows. But, um, at the end of the summer we all left camp and went to NYC and spent the night at the Milford Plaza hotel where I planned to, um, have him fly his plane into my hangar. unfortunately, as the deed was about to be done, our friend Beth wanders in drunk and wet from splashing in central park fountains and starts chattering away in the bed next to us. As we try- unfruitfully- to shut her up, other people start wandering in and there is no sex.
Later I travel to the UK- not JUST to make sext w/ the flying idiot...though it was a big priority- to hang out. On NYE '02/'03, we spend the night at our friend Nic's and....do not make sex! How does a girl as horny as me allow this?? I do not know. I later go to Wales, where this idiot lives with his mom, break his shitty Ikea bed, and have no sex.
A year-ish later, I go- primarily- to visit the gay but doesn't know it idiot, and end up visiting with THIS idiot at another friend's house in Manchester. We get hot, and drunk, and in the same bed...and did not make sex. It's unbelievable. I still think about this idiot- in many ways, including romantically- and am sad that all our "romantic" encounters ended so innocently.
So the song, "Do you wanna make love to me?", is for you, not because i wonder as much, but because a part of me still wants to.
Oh, flying idiot, I miss you. Didn't you say that you were coming to the states this year? Can't we add LA to the list of no-sex stops? just asking...
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Pick my scooter (color)!
I'm getting a scooter. I already have a helmet
Now I need something to wear it on. Besides the pitching mound. So which one?
Monday, August 18, 2008
The Idiot List
If you live in LA, you may know about Indie 103's coup d'etat- one hour a week where an Indie listener gets to play 12 songs of their choosing and talk about all things not pertaining to the word "tits" (another blog, sorry)
If you have talked to me at all in the last five years, you know about my 'idiots"- the men in my life who are not my boyfriend (but perhaps should be)
The Idiots- a few of them more than others- have been tremendously influential in my life. My political views. My DVD collection. The stamps on my passport. The amount of time spent at the post office. The slow/rapid pickling of my liver. And of course: My taste in music. So here it is, Idiots; this is your list
12. Scissor Sisters- Filthy/ Gorgeous (Brooklyn Idiot)
11. Of Montreal- Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse (Roommate Idiot)
10. Presets- Are You the One? (Duchovny, the Should-Be Idiot)
9. Porterville- Humankind (Comic Book Idiot)
8. Hot Hot Heat- Not a Secret Now (Gay- But Han't Yet Admitted It- Idiot)
7. Kaiser Chiefs- Every Day I Love You Less and Less (Almost Married Idiot)
6. Cake- Arco Arena (Canadian Idiot)
5. The Fizzies- Smack Davis (Chorizo Idiot)
4. Dogs Die in Hot Cars- Paul Newman's Eyes (The Original Idiot)
3. Kooks- Do You Want to Make Love to Me? (Flying Idiot)
The pentultimate Idiot has requested, nay, demanded, that he not be referred to as an Idiot. Therefore these are the Cutlets cuts
2. The Leevees- Applesauce vs. Sour Cream
1. Gogol Bordello- American Wedding, but only because Think Locally, Fuck Globally can obviously not be played on the radio
Left off the list were the First Time Idiot (because he's really more of a schmuck) and the one, and only, boyfriend who had the BF title and thus could not be classified as an Idiot. There are stories that connect the Idiots to the songs. Stay tuned
If you have talked to me at all in the last five years, you know about my 'idiots"- the men in my life who are not my boyfriend (but perhaps should be)
The Idiots- a few of them more than others- have been tremendously influential in my life. My political views. My DVD collection. The stamps on my passport. The amount of time spent at the post office. The slow/rapid pickling of my liver. And of course: My taste in music. So here it is, Idiots; this is your list
12. Scissor Sisters- Filthy/ Gorgeous (Brooklyn Idiot)
11. Of Montreal- Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse (Roommate Idiot)
10. Presets- Are You the One? (Duchovny, the Should-Be Idiot)
9. Porterville- Humankind (Comic Book Idiot)
8. Hot Hot Heat- Not a Secret Now (Gay- But Han't Yet Admitted It- Idiot)
7. Kaiser Chiefs- Every Day I Love You Less and Less (Almost Married Idiot)
6. Cake- Arco Arena (Canadian Idiot)
5. The Fizzies- Smack Davis (Chorizo Idiot)
4. Dogs Die in Hot Cars- Paul Newman's Eyes (The Original Idiot)
3. Kooks- Do You Want to Make Love to Me? (Flying Idiot)
The pentultimate Idiot has requested, nay, demanded, that he not be referred to as an Idiot. Therefore these are the Cutlets cuts
2. The Leevees- Applesauce vs. Sour Cream
1. Gogol Bordello- American Wedding, but only because Think Locally, Fuck Globally can obviously not be played on the radio
Left off the list were the First Time Idiot (because he's really more of a schmuck) and the one, and only, boyfriend who had the BF title and thus could not be classified as an Idiot. There are stories that connect the Idiots to the songs. Stay tuned
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