Today in "Shuffle is Making Me Crazy"

"Shuffle is Making Me Crazy" follows my iPod/music addicted self and my jarring real life mash-ups while using the shuffle mode.

Today's adventure:

Monday morning rush hour on the 7 train

After waiting 25 minutes for a train I could wiggle and grunt and maneuver myself into, my 5'5 self attempts to hold the ceiling as to not to fall on the old woman with cane and massive backpacked student nearby.  As people attempt to squeeze past the wall of people near the door to exit the car at the next stop, shuffle plays:

 

Take me back! (a plea to my blog)

Oh blog of mine...I have neglected you so. I know, I used to barely have things to say (besides the epic cross country escapade captured in the August 2008 archive) but I think...we should try this again.

Sure, I wonder if we are going to be good for each other.   You are simple and I am a complicated girl.  I might end up posting things that make you sneer "Holy hell, how indulgent" but we won't know unless we give this another go.

Look at that face and those nifty MacBook Pro bluebirds. (PS Apple, why are there Cinderella inspired bluebirds in my photo booth? I want lightening or something epic. I want to look like I am either going to take over the world, conquer something or just plan super awesome at how I can manipulate nature. Who in the world needs a circular storm of bluebirds over their head?)

So blog, what do you say? I say we should do this. Let's jump back in.

Back to the grind...

Post graduate life= job search, a hungry pursuit for any kind of money, and nights free.

So I have time to start back up with this little ol' blog of mine but let's refocus it, shall we?

Bonsai!

Almost makes me wanna work at an office again...

I exist...again

I google myself. I admit it.

There used to be fewer "Angela Santillos" out there, but in the last year or so a whole lot more of them starting popping up, especially in the New York area. (Yes, there is more than one of me in the NYC area. I think we should dual, I think I will win. In fact I think I would win most duals. Without a doubt. I think my chances are heightened because I took karate for three years in elementary school, I am super flexible, and can quote "Rocky" from start to finish.)

A cast member of my show came up to me last night and said he googled me and found my blog. (Hi Kevin if you are reading this.)

And I realized that I am ashamed because 1) I have a blog and 2) I have not updated my blog since April. Which makes me not only pretentious but a failure. That is a heavy load to bear.

So I think I should start blogging again because for some odd reason, people enjoy it. (And I enjoy all of you that read it.)

Since I have been gone so long, I figured it is time to recap what has happened in the life of Angela since April:
-Angela has been busy
-Angela has done lots of theater
-Angela has gone to the gym
-Angela has been cooking more
-Angela kinda wishes she could really talk about herself in the 3rd person.

Currently Angela is:
-Getting ready for her show to open next week
-Is craving In and Out burger so badly she could cry
-Wishes she wore a warmer jacket
-Is killing time before her voice lesson in which she will kill her teacher with her horrible attempt at vocal scales
-Is wishing she slept more last night
-Really needs to stop thinking pumpkin spice lattes are a good idea.

Dear Mother Fucker,

Me and my Honda Civic thank you. We found it quite complementary and wonderful that you decided to run your car into us at some unknown hour. As I was sleeping, and my car was parked peacefully on the street, you must have decided to back and sideswipe the vehicle in the process. It was such a delightful gift on my Thursday morning to leave the house in a hurry and find that you ran into my car and didn't leave a note.

The new dents on her bumper, on her wheel cover, and the numerous white scratch marks are such a wonderful addition to her already wonderful appearance.

Cause the paint damage from the punks who egged my car randomly one night in Oakland is a little weak. I must admit. The entire left side of my car is not fucked up enough. Although, the egg damage (which oddly looks like the car was part of a mob shoot out) is now nicely complemented. Instead of the doors just being fucked up, you have completed the look with the front of the car. I just hope someone reams my end to make it the great work of fuckedupness it is so clearly destined to become.

And the dent in my hood from the random truck that backed into my hood at another unknown hour of the night as it was parked peacefully on the street, it looks far better now with the messy bumper. Now it is like a strange optical illusion. It almost looks like a game. A game of "count how many dents are on this Honda Civic."

I am sure just like the truck denter, the egg throwers, and the previous Mother Fucker who hit my parked car and took off my side view mirror, your failure to leave a note was just a way of being coy.

Oh, you tease you. I will think of you fondly, my random hit and runner, every morning as I go to my car and see those delightful new dents.

So thank you Mother Fucker. Actually, thank you all my Mother Fuckers for making my car so much more than ordinary.

Just like me, she is growing up to be an exceedingly beautiful marked woman.

Love,
-Angela and her Honda Civic

The most bitter horoscope ever...

A choice selection from my horoscope for this month:

"If you look over at the guy you're having dinner with and realize that he's just as rude, gassy and drunk as the idiot you divorced last year, excuse yourself, get a cab and go home. Pluto is all about learning from mistakes – not repeating them ad nauseam. The person that needs to make these inside out changes isn't the dumb date you chose – it's YOU! You may be better off alone. Ever thought about that? Your dog, cat or ferret might be a better companion – smarter and more loyal, too. It's time to make loads of peace with yourself – even if it means spending some time in the mountains in a private cabin. Actually, that sounds just about perfect."

Well, fuck April.