I am stuck inside. I have more than one reason for being here, and granted, with a little applied problem solving I would probably realize how easy my situation would be to resolve, but then I wouldn’t have a blog.
Reason number one for being stuck inside on a beautiful sunny day in California:
I have 5 phone numbers in my entire phone. Of the five contacts, three of them are named Mike. This backs up my long held hypothesis that Mike is the most popular name for people who love naked women and the industries they might find them in. When I was eighteen and working as a house dancer I used to forget names constantly. I still do that, but technology aids me now. Anyhoo, back then, I would ask someone’s name and then forget it before my brain could even register it. I did this because the music was too loud and it was hard to hear over it, and because it was dark, and for some reason I don’t process things well in the dark, and also because I was 18 and the world revolved around me so I wasn’t interested in outside details. But no one caught on. No one caught on because if I was put on the spot I would guess that the stranger at hand was named Mike, and I would mostly be right. My second guess would be Richard, or Robert. I usually got it in three guesses. A study on why this is the case would be fascinating. Maybe we just have no imagination with our baby boy names in Sacramento.
But let’s talk about why there are five numbers in my phone. There are five numbers in my phone because I am retarded. I cannot multitask, and neither can you. Not effectively anyway. Don’t fool yourself. I read the studies. But that doesn’t keep me from doing it. So I had three windows open on my desktop, and I was doing research on chat boards, and I had two windows open on my laptop, and I was toggling between email accounts, and then I decided I needed to sync my phone to both my laptop and desktop, and I needed to make everything streamlined on iCloud, and I plugged it in to one or the other and clicked the mouse on something but the mouse was connected to the desktop and not the laptop and things imploded and I realized I had restored my phone to factory settings. This happened of course just two days after I got a new phone, because I smashed my last one to shit when I decided to try to drunk text and instead let the phone slip between my fingers right into an elegant and nearly unreal faceplant into the asphalt I was stumbling across. I had not synced that phone effectively either. I spent the past two days tracking down all of the numbers I just lost again. So I am rebuilding again, and so far only the Mikes of the world are thinking to text me. To bring it full circle, I am inside because I can’t call anyone to make plans.
Reason number two I’m stuck inside:
I’m supposed to be in Bulgaria. I will be flying out there on the 26th to shoot one very awesome Indie movie. I will be there for three months with a quick trip home for thanksgiving. I have scheduled my life around this, naturally. The first part of my life that required scheduling for a long-term absence was my horse. I couldn’t just leave him sitting in a stall while I flitted around Europe, so I spent Thursday getting him settled in a sweet pasture situation near Santa Barbara. I rode him through some tomato fields. We stopped at a fruit stand. I played at the beach. All in all a good day. And that’s how I would normally spend a sunny day off. Outside. Conquering the world with my horse. Who I just shipped too far away to see regularly. The other thing about the Bulgaria shoot is that I was supposed to fly out on the 10th, before things got moved around, and without enough time to book up the days in between the original departure date and the new one. Blah.
Reason number three I am stuck inside:
I am trying to not get any more freckles. I started swimming every day about a month ago, right after a week running around the desert in the white hot sun at Burningman, and now I look like orphan Annie. Shit’s gotta change. So I got some fun lotion that lightens freckles and was told not to go out in the sun while I’m using it. It’s ok though. The pool is heated. I swim at night, stealth style. But it’s still not ideal. Pre-Africa-trip it might have been more bearable because I was sleeping late and staying up half the night, but adjusting to a 9 hour time difference on the bottom of the globe and then coming back somehow reset me to something resembling healthier. 7am is painfully far from dusk.
So aside from the fact that it just sucks to be inside when the sun is out, I have made an extended list of other reasons it sucks to try to pass time at home, based on data gathered in the past 48 hours:
Things I’ve paid: parking tickets, car registration, property taxes, 2010’s income taxes, my tax guy, horse board for three months, my sister’s tuition for the spring, and an IRA contribution. I did this because of the aforementioned Bulgaria trip. I needed to tie everything up ahead of time. I am not complaining about the money though. The money was gonna be spent on these things anyway. I am complaining that there is literally nothing left to do that would make me feel productive.
Things I did to make me feel productive that will only result in me having to follow through with things I don’t actually want to do:
Things I did after I did the other things to be productive:
But then I had an idea. I realized I could share this experience with you lovely people. Because you know what else I’ve been meaning to do? Blog. And I’m sure you’ve been meaning to waste time reading it.