Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Puppy Snuggles Part Deux

I am the first to admit that I am often a Debbie Downer, Negative Nelly, and an Unpleasant Ursula. And having a crazy stressful job working with a community of close to one-thousand of LA's most wealthy and eccentric residents only accentuates my dramatic tendencies. But today rocked. Not unlike this day last year when I just felt the need to spread happiness and good cheer. Also like last year, I feel the need to make a list of the reasons why life is just grand, despite my incessant venting and frequent exclamations of "You're killin' me, Smalls!" Because making lists makes me even happier.

"You're killin' me, Smalls!" -Me on any other given day.

1. I woke up in a fabulous mood. It might have been the margaritas and True Blood the night before that gave me sweet dreams, (Oh Alcide...Why must you be a fictional character who also happens to be a werewolf with a savior complex? Otherwise it would totally work between us. He needs a special mention on this list too).

Mr. RamblingHutch

2. I got to listen to my customized Pandora station chock full of classic 70s rock, 80s hair bands, 90s grunge, and some random newer stuff mixed in. This lead to...

3. "Footloose" dance party with the maintenance guys. Can they cut a rug, or what?

4. Speaking of maintenance, my buddy Edi made us all killer orange julius type smoothies with fresh squeezed orange juice just for the hell of it.

5. No one yelled, tattled, or whined at me like a well-dressed, overgrown kindergartner. This is a big deal.

6. There were no crises of any kind, whether they involved Canadian and/or Mexican mafia, unstable porn producers, the wretched hellbeast I have unaffectionately nicknamed Big Mama, or flaming tacquito shrapnel.

An artist's rendering of "Big Mama,"
the Mother of all Muthereffers

7. We got to watch the end of Superbad and the beginning of Forgetting Sarah Marshall at lunch while eating McDonald's and making an unofficial, off-the-record list of hot, foreign male residents who may be interested in a sham wedding for green card purposes. Simple pleasures indeed.

8. And for the grand finale, my Costa Rican co-worker and I hijacked the golf cart and went on a joyride to 7-11 for a popsicle and candy run! Just because we could. It was terrifying since there is no buffer between you and certain death from the distracted driver of a mondo SUV. Plus, my co-worker insisted on pushing the little cart to top speeds of 25mph (It feels a lot faster when you're out in the open like that. Not to mention, I'm still terrified to drive the damn thing, even after all this time.) I kept expecting to get pulled over by the police who followed us into the store because of my unwarranted guilty conscience. But we were big damn heroes when we came back with supplies of cookies, chocolate, and ice cream for the troops.

I kept expecting this to happen, but all was well.

9. This may be anti-climactic, but I was also able to go home at 7pm on the dot. It's amazing that it was slow enough I could get all my work done on time and be out the door when scheduled. We're just so used to being bombarded by interruptions that we often can't even start our actual work until the doors are locked and phones are off the hook.

Who knows what tomorrow holds in store, but I'm not sure we could top today. Especially since I'm a lot more productive and content when I have popsicles in my system. Food for thought.

PS!!! Oh oh, I forgot one of the other awesome parts of the day! I got to give a tour to some USC grad students who want to film on the property. They brought when them a retired location scout who is old school Hollywood. He just talked my ear off with all kinds of stories about who's good to work for, who's terrible, and other great anecdotes about famous people. He wished me good luck with my career. It was nice to chat with fellow film people and hear all the juicy gossip!

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Posthumous Playlist

I'm feeling rather morbid this evening (cleaning your own dried vomit from your foul-smelling car door will do that to a person). So naturally I got to thinking about songs I want to be played at my funeral. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, you vultures, but I do think this is a very important issue that should be planned early on (just in case). I believe that you should be in control of this one small thing, if you can't choose when and how you're going to go (in my ideal world, it would be shot down in a blaze of glory!). I want my funeral to be the shindig of a lifetime. A hootenanny to shame all other hootenannies. I want there to be brightly colored Jell-O shots, a photo booth with silly costumes, and a buffet of all my favorite foods (which no one will be allowed to consume only in moderation.)

You guys. Only you'll be wearing electric blue beehive wigs,
fake Tom Seleck mustaches, and at least three different feather boas.

The one thing that absolutely MUST take place at my funeral is karaoke. And EVERYONE must take a turn. You can go in pairs or groups, if you experience stage fright. But the only way to truly honor my memory is to give me a heavenly (or awesomely bad) rendition of one of my favorite songs:

1. Freebird and/or Tuesday's Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd
2. Gimme Shelter and/or Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones
3. Think by Aretha Franklin
4. Anything by the Spice Girls (Except Wannabe)
5. House of the Rising Sun by the Animals
6. Burning Love by Elvis (in honor of my inaugural karaoke debut)
7. Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon and Garfunkel (for my Mom)
8. Carry on My Wayward Son by Kansas
9. Don't Stop Believin' by Journey (also a group singalong)
10. I'll Make a Man Out of You from Disney's Mulan (BONUS POINTS!!!)
11. Uptown Girl by Billy Joel
12. Livin' on a Prayer by Bon Jovi
13. Bohemian Rhapsody and/or Fat Bottomed Girls by Queen
14. Gimme Gimme Gimme by ABBA
15. Don't You Forget About Me by Simple Minds (for John Hughes)

For the most part, these are all songs that have special meaning for me. Or they are just freaking awesome. In any case, my funeral will be off the hizz-ook (that's a phrase, right?)! I just wish I could be there to party down with y'all. Sadly I'll be residing in a happy face cookie jar urn somewhere in Canada. But I'll be watching just to make sure you eat that extra piece of cake, or take that extra Jell-o shot. And I'll know if you never make it to the stage. Or if you try to sing a song you know I hate (ie anything country). I will haunt your spiteful ass till kingdom come.

I realize that this is slightly creepier than
an actual gravestone.

PS: If I die in the near future, I apologize for the prophetic and latent eerie tone of this post. Oooooh spooky! Aw, dammit. I just jinxed myself...