Happy B-Day, Elvis!

And no, I'm not referring to my parents' mega-annoying, mega-yipping, abominable Jack Russell Terrier.  What has prompted this entry, you might ask?  A desire to let you all know that I am not dead!  I'm not!  Even though I have gone a revolting two months without writing.  I can blame the strike, I suppose, for I was caught shortly after I posted the mask photo below and fired via viciously polite memo from NBC.  I won't post the entirety here, but you know you're underappreciated when you recieve a memo whose subject line is "Services No Longer Needed."  I was tempted to send a response to NBC with the subject line "I Wouldn't Piss on you if you Were on Fire."  But I am lazy. 

Now that I am back from my world travels (if Japan and Kentucky can be counted as "traveling the world"), I am settling back to unemployed life in Los Angeles.  Unemployment is difficult for me.  I despise sitting around the house, no matter how many "Real Housewives of Orange County" marathons Bravo broadcasts to tempt me.  So this unemployment term, I have developed a set of daily rules:

1.)  Must get out of bed by 8:30 AM.

2.)  Work out.

3.)  Apply for at least five jobs, anything from juggler to Japanese tutor.  Note:  I possess neither of these skills, but I feel the need to paper the town.

4.)  Get dressed.  Sweatpants do not count.  Neither do belly shirts, Melissa, no matter how much you whine.  Yes, your abs look fabulous, but no!  Belly shirts do not count!

5.)  Take a walk around my neighborhood every afternoon.  Watch the happy families play on their lawns and converse with neighbors, or argue at the dinner table.  Still in their work clothes.

6.)  Let my friends and family know how much I appreciate their support and be careful not to take my frustration out on them.  Cliffhanger told me the other day that she couldn't tell if I thought she was a horrible person, and my eyeballs nearly popped out of my head just as my heart was in the process of breaking into a million pieces.  For me, it's always Opposite Day.  Maybe it shouldn't be.

In other news, I walked the picket lines at Fox (yes, I hate NBC more, but Fox is closer to my house - how's that for having principles?) yesterday and ran into H-Berts, G-Money, the Staff Writer, Entourage, and, well, I guess I didn't run into Prancers, since she picked my lazy ass up and drove me the two blocks to the studio.  But I discussed my single New Year's Resolution with H-Berts as we marched all militant-like:

H-Berts:  So how was the flight to Tokyo?

Me:  Fine, except for the landing, cause I saw this cockroach right as we were about to hit the ground.  And it was right above me.  And I couldn't scream, cause it's not good to scream when your plane is landing, so I kinda... flicked it on the sleeping Chinese girl next to me.

H-Berts:  (horrified, stunned)

Me:  But my New Year's Resolution is not to flick bugs on people anymore.

H-Berts:  Glad to see you've set the bar high for yourself this year. 

Happy New Year!