Bye Bye Trolls

Yesterday I turned off anonymous comments on my moblog (Enter My Picture Box) in an effort to keep the leeches at bay. Now you need to be logged into TextAmerica to leave a comment on any of my gorgeous, creative, and artsy pics and movie clips.

Been working great so far! Nobody wants to talk shiiiat when they're out in the open, but am I at all surprised? Of course not.

Rumor has it TA is going to adopt this setting across the board for all moblogs soon. It's time to take out the trash.

However, I hope my added security won't deter all you moblog buddies from continuing to offer your witty comments as you always have in the past. You know who you are. Just login and go to town.

Kisses, kisses, many airborne kisses....

PS- Lots more video clips coming soon!

For a Rainy Day

I love the rain, though it always keeps me inside- lazing around, watching movies, and drinking tea. Ah, if only it could rain every day.

I've become alarmed at the rate at which my novel reading has slowed. The last book I read was "Fast Food Nation," and while it was well worth my time and energy (utterly eye-opening and repulsive might describe it better), it didn't lend much to my desire for ficticious escapism.

Why do I read less? Is it because I'm too busy? Lazy? Have my interests shifted beyond books? Will the lure of the glossy mag keep me skimming, rather than diving into the written word forever?

I don't know, man. But frankly, it stinks. I vow to start a novel tonight. Damn whatever's on Bravo.

Ode to the Paperback: A Few of Sarah's Former Faves

1. "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" by Hunter S. Thompson

My dad's a huge fan. Once I was old enough to realize he has excellent taste, I borrowed his worn, tattered copy of Fear&Loathing for a weekend and laughed my ass off. I've tried to convert many people I know to the HST faith, mostly unsuccessfully. Easy read, but takes a certain humor to appreciate. Their loss!

2. "Me Talk Pretty One Day" by David Sedaris

Very self-depricating. Very clever. Very funny. Long live this book.

3. "She's Come Undone" by Wally Lamb

This was a violently moving story. I can't tell you how much. Probably more geared for girls than boys, but surprise me.

4. "The Picture of Dorian Gray" by Oscar Wilde

Poor, pretty Dorian. Actually, I thought this was a very scary book. I had to stop reading it at night and avoid looking at anything hanging on my wall. Creepy and fun.

5. "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho

This story was read to me over the course of a few lazy nights on Hayes Street. Such a warm memory. If you cherish the voice of your loved one, have them read you this book. I promise you'll both enjoy it.

This is a good start, though there are so many more books I've loved before. However, my story is about to take an ironic twist. Through the course of this blog entry, I've decided my former pledge to begin a new novel tonight must certainly be shelved to allow ample time to bake oatmeal cookies instead. It just seems like the right thing to do.

Time to preheat. And don't look at me like that, I'll read tomorrow.

I Require Efficiency!

Moving sucks. I know you know this, but I want to just state it once more for the record. I feel like I've been moving for a month, and I pretty much have. Heather and I have made our place a really cozy haven, but we still need dining room chairs. And a towel rack. And a shelf in the kitchen. And lots of plants. And more Christmas lights. And bathmats. And damn it if the sink isn't leaking again! And why are our landlord's 50 buckets of paint still sitting in the backyard? It can be an overwhelming experience.

Having said that, I love my new room, and roommate. I'm especially digging my new neighborhood (once a hippie haven to far-out folks like my dad, before he was my dad). Found the local health food store to be totally up to par and only blocks away. I'm feeling warm vibes all around, and I know now this was a good move. Now if my upstairs neighbor would just take off those stillettos before trampling around on the hardwood floor so I can get some mother$%^&@*! sleep.....zen, Sarah, zen.....

Oh, also for the record... my latest experience with Comcast cable installers has been nothing but pain and suffering. The first guy reeked of weed and couldn't figure out how to hook up my cable, after arriving one hour later than the cut-off time for my four-hour window. I'm not saying the weed was to blame, but he did just have that one task, after all. The second guy (the "supervisor") was an hour late for his prompt appointment the next morning and managed to get the cable working fairly soon. But then he proceeded to answer a phone call that involved a lot of cussing- he was shouting obscenities, actually- in the middle of my bedroom as I stood there in my bathrobe, needing some personal space and feeling just slightly put out. Just thought I'd share that little gem with you.

I'm glad the Playboy post got such a healthy debate going. More of that, please. I'm always listening.

They tell me it's time for a voice coach. I'm totally excited. It's such a bizarre job requirement that I can't help but be stoked to soon tell folks my pipes have been classically trained, dahling. Lord knows my voice could use a little expert advice anyway. The karaoke bars know the awful truth...

Watched the film "The Bachelor" last night on TV. Skip it. Why do they even make movies like that? Dumb premise, dumb flick. Also caught "When Harry Met Sally" on one of the rerun champ stations. That movie sure looks dated these days, but it's still a keeper. Billy Crystal rules.

It's time to go home and start measuring and cutting sheets of sticky-backed contact paper to fit inside small junk drawers so that little, unnecessary things can be stuffed inside them and I can feel better about never throwing anything away because the contact paper makes all the junk look more organized.

Yes, women are insane. I'm afraid of us too.

Have fun storming the castle!

Playboy

What do you think about Playboy? Is it lewd? Tame? A big deal? So not a big deal? Are the girls that pose for Playboy hot mamas, or wannabes? Tasteful or trashy?

Perhaps more importantly, can you guess why I'm curious? Opinions, s'il vous plait.

The Lomo and other short stories

I'm obsessed with taking pictures. I know you already know this if you peruse my sarah.pic moblog, but the photo thing has reached new heights with the addition of the Lomo cam.

Want to see a bunch of cool, wannabe-artsy pics I took with my Lomo?
Click here.

Moving right along, I went to Joe's Crab Shack last night for the first time. It's in Fisherman's Wharf, a really touristy trappy part of San Francisco. The name alone keeps me far, far away. But I "heard" from a "friend" that Joe's is simply the best fish and crab ever to meet your tastebuds. Ok, so we went. Yuck. Food was bland, and the wait staff did this weird dance to Will Smith's "Men in Black" for no apparent reason but to make the customers uncomfortable. Why do so many chain restaurants always have a moronic signature song/dance? You know the employees hate doing it.

Lastly, I'm moving on Sunday!! Moving is so exciting in theory, but such a drag when it's really time to go. I'm one of those frequent movers, so you'd think by now I'd have weeded out the useless crap. Au contraire, dahlings. I've only lived in this apartment for a year, but the bulging garbage bags tell another story. Such a little pack rat. What's wrong with me?

Well, it's time to tackle my closet... peace out homes.