Linds-Eye

A few things I caught via Flip Cam while in Indy and Chicago

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 01:41:51 -0500

A few things I caught via Flip Cam while in Indy and Chicago

A little short made with the lovelies Rich Talarico and Andy...

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 01:34:26 -0500

A little short made with the lovelies Rich Talarico and Andy DeYoung. Inspired by the nearly year old break in of my poor Civic.

Tonight

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 01:01:10 -0500

It’s been nearly a year, blog.

Hi.

How have you been? Tonight I needed a confidant, so i came to you. You’re perfect in that way. You don’t talk back. You just listen. You wait patiently for me to come back after taking long hiatuses, and you don’t judge me. You’re just here waiting. Waiting for my shitty little emotional breakdowns that seem life altering, but in actuality are nothing more than a simple blog entry.

Here we are. It’s a Sunday night, and I’m alone in my odd smelling apartment with two dogs. One that scratches his ass on the carpet and the other that barks at a flea fart. I’ve had a little wine, but not enough for this to be embarrassing and I sit staring at my computer with three tabs open. One for Facebook (as per usual), another for gmail with Barak chatting with me to say not give up, and Craigslist telling me what jobs and apartments are available in Chicago.

I’ve recently come back from a trip to the midwest, and it’s left me questioning a lot of what I’m doing with my life. What am I doing after all? I’m working at a shitstorm of a dead end job with a boss that didn’t even know my name for the first year I worked there (mind you, there are eight employees in this company), my love life is in shambles for reasons that are both in and out of my control, the few auditions I get called in for I certainly do not book and I have no sense of home here.

Is what I leave there worth coming back to what I have here? I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe it’s the holidays. Maybe it’s realizing the amount of unconditional love I have waiting for me between Chicago and Indianapolis. Maybe it’s being a twenty something that is nowhere near having it all figured out.

The only thing that isn’t a maybe at this point is that I don’t know. I just don’t know.

Reading this now. David Sedaris is by far one of my favorite...

Thu, 08 Jan 2009 20:00:20 -0500

Reading this now. David Sedaris is by far one of my favorite writers. I want either his or Amy’s career.

I’m trying to get off of my Sia kick before it becomes...

Wed, 07 Jan 2009 14:45:37 -0500

I’m trying to get off of my Sia kick before it becomes worrisome to friends and family. Or makes me roommate want to kill me. So today is a Ben Folds day.

Dirty Pants & Fake Phone Numbers

Wed, 07 Jan 2009 13:25:00 -0500

Traveling during the holidays sucks. That’s not news to anyone. So when the worst thing that happened to me was having to wait at LAX for seven hours to get back to Indianapolis, I was actually quite relieved. For days leading up to my travels, I had intense anxiety that I would get stuck at the Detroit airport (where my layover was originally scheduled). I’m not entirely sure why I was so concerned. After all, Detroit isn’t all that far from Nap-town, and I could have probably gotten a ride there, or, at the worst, spent a couple of hours riding the little shuttle tram thing around that ginormous airport (I decided everyone that is still gainfully employed in that city must work at the airport because it is HUGE), but I digress. Long story short, my flight to Detroit Rock City was delayed which would have caused me to miss my connection. Luckily for me, I got bumped to a direct flight leaving LAX at 4:50. The bad news? I found that out at 10:00.

Having taken the bus and shuttle to LAX, and not having any friends that were still in town to pick me up, I didn’t have any other options than to find myself some breakfast, a corner to hide in and an internet connection of sorts. It wouldn’t be so bad, I could listen to some music, mess around on Facebook and maybe do some reading. In other words, I would act like I was at work, but without that little nuisance of job responsibility.

By hour three, my butt was asleep, the mass of people crowding in around me was making me claustrophobic, my book about Dorothy Parker was considerably less interesting the third time around and the Internet was just a big tease. My computer detected a wireless signal, but refused to connect. So I sat. I, who hates talking on the phone with a slow burning passion, called anyone that I knew wasn’t traveling. Surpisingly, they didn’t seem all that interested in listening to me gripe about greasy skin and numb butt.

When all of my phone resources were used up, I tried to see if I remembered how to make paper cranes. I don’t. I people watched. However, it wasn’t all that interesting considering they, like me, all looked like hopeless zombies in need of a shower. Well, I guess that’s kind of redundant considering most zombies look like they need a shower. Unless, of course, you’re into that sort of thing. I finally decided to try to nap.

By hour 6 I had spent and hour spooning my computer bag and purse against a wall without dozing off for a second. Seeing sleep as futile, and finally seeing a ray of light at the end of the terminal, I decided to go wait at my gate.

A10 was even more packed than the seating area from before, and it took me three laps to finally find an open chair. I squeezed between an adolescent who constantly picked at his red, chapped skin and an old man dozing off while holding an apple core. Replacing my earbuds and turning on my computer I began to zone out once again, and hardly noticed when the bad skinned boy got up only to be replaced by a trench coat wearing twenty-something guy with a ratty ponytail and facial hair that made Keanu Reeves’ beard look awesome. Out of the corner of my eye I could see trench coat guy looking in my direction multiple times, but tried to appear to be typing something very prophetic and important.

“Please don’t talk to me. Please don’t talk to me. Please don’t talk to me,” was all that went through my head by the third time he glanced my way. Trying to keep up even remotely clever or interesting conversation sounded about as appealing as a hug from a urine soaked transient, and as he tapped my shoulder it was a struggle to put on my friendly face and turn to see what he wanted.

Pointing to his ticket he said, “Did I just get hooked up?” Looking at it, I realized he was sitting in first class.

“Looks like it.” I replied. In reality I wanted to keep my earbuds in and answer with a monotone, “I’m sorry, you must have me confused me with someone who cares.” Simple. Effective. To the point. But I’m a pussy. So he kept talking, and somehow I fained caring.

“Man, this is like the third time this year I’ve gotten hooked up with a first class flight.” He gloated.

“Wow. I’ve been here for seven hours.” I stared blankly at him.

Realizing I wasn’t impressed by his first class upgrade, scruffy trench coat dude decided to change the subject. He chatted away, telling me he was an aspiring actor/model (ew) who grew up one town over from mine. He possessed the same forced charm and, come to think of it, facial hair that my senior year boyfriend had. Had this scenario happened five years before my heart would have probably been aflutter with hopes of a date with a new boy that my mother would have found repulsive, but this was five years, many dates and skeezy guys later. Not gonna work. Oh well, at least it helped pass the time.

As he rattled on about whatever he was talking about, I looked down to notice his hands were extremely dirty. Not just the gunk under the nails that happens to everyone, but legitimately dirty. Like he had robbed a grave just hours before. Maybe that’s where he got the trench coat. Looking past the grave digging hands I noticed his jeans were equally as filthy. I couldn’t help but stare, and go through scenarios in my mind for such an appearance. Grave robbing was really all I could come up with. Definately grave robbing.

After a solid ten minutes of “Guess That Filth” in my mind, it was finally announced that our flight was boarding. As we stood up, I was hoping we would have to separate as he boarded with first class. No such luck. He walked by my side as I fidgeted with my phone like I usually do out of nervous habit. He read that as me hinting to him that I wanted his number. I didn’t. He gave it to me anyway, and asked me to call it so he could have mine. Shit. No faking my number with him. Clever dirty bastard.

After I made it to my seat I didn’t see trench coat dude again, and eventually made it to my parents’ house where I soon forgot all about him. (By the way, I googled his name today to see if I could find some of his acting/model photos. The photo at the top of the post is all I could find.)

A few days later, I received a text from him asking if I was the girl that was at Clancy’s the night before. Clancy’s is a southside bar that I’d never go to for good reason. Not remembering who he was I answered with a simple “No. Not even a little bit.”

“Then who is this?” He asked.

“Lindsay Harbert. Who is this?”

“James Cook.”

“Sorry James, but I have no idea who you are.”

That was that until the next day.

“Oh! We met at the airport!” Arrived in my inbox shortly past noon. My stomach sank. I couldn’t think of what I could say to him to be nice while showing him i wasn’t interested, so I didn’t say anything at all. He’d get the clue, right?

The next day I awoke to find a text from the night/morning before. “Seem chill. We should hang in the city. Myspace?”

I hoped he didn’t still have the text with my full name, and ignored him once again. I felt kind of bad, but my freaked out feelings won that battle. Another day passed, and I didn’t hear from him, so I figured he got the hint.

On my fourth day in Indy I flipped open my phone to see. “This is {Trench Coat Dude’s Real Name}. The guy that got moved to first class.”

You guessed it. I didn’t respond, so the next day I awoke to, “FROM THE AIRPORT!!!”

Ya know Trench Coat Dude, you almost convinced me to respond by adding that third exclamation point. Nice touch.

I didn’t hear from him again after the capstastic exclamation, and thought I was finally in the clear. I’ve been back in LA for about a week now, and he and his dirty jeans had easily become a distant memory. That is, until last night. Sarah and I decided to grab some sushi and see Rachel Getting Married. Which was, on a side note, amazing and gut wrenching. As we sat chatting at dinner my phone rang. Usually Donny calls around that time, so I thought nothing of it. As I glanced down at the phone I stared stunned at the name that appeared.

Really? Really?!? How could calling me possibly seem like a good idea to him? How is that possible? I mean, I’m about as clueless as they come when it comes to dating/calling/texting, especially after a couple of drinks, I’ll be the first to admit, but even I know you don’t call a perfect stranger that has been ignoring your texts for days.

He left a voicemail. I’m scared to listen to it. Maybe I should be more sympathetic. Or maybe his pants were dirty because he was digging, not robbing, a shallow grave. Just saying.

Drinking a glass of wine…Listening to Sia…While...

Sun, 04 Jan 2009 06:07:55 -0500

Drinking a glass of wine…Listening to Sia…While Chunk sleeps on my lap…Crazy dog lady What?!?!?

Something really got my goat on New Year’s Eve. Yes, I am...

Fri, 02 Jan 2009 17:00:39 -0500

Something really got my goat on New Year’s Eve. Yes, I am unabashadly using a bad pun, it’s my blog leave me alone. Let me preface this by saying, I had a really good time on NYE. My buddy Justin threw quite the shindig, and I happily had a reason to get dressed up and wear lots of makeup. Not to mention cutting a rug, hanging with some girlfriends, meeting Allegra’s new man and enjoying some all around mindless tomfoolery.

However, after an abundance of fun was had, and I was walking around aimlessly (my friends had mostly left) drinking loads of water before my journey home, when I noticed a less than attractive, I’m being nice, tall lanky man with a big bushy goatee following me around. Spotting a friend sitting on a couch, I quickly beelined there and allowed them to drunkenly chatter at me while trying to look deeply interested in what they were saying in attempt to give this guy a clue.

It didn’t work. He proceded to stand directly in my line of vision in a way that I had to really try to not look at him. Staring at me, he made come hither motions with his hands while I pretended not to notice, then not to care, then to be utterly annoyed.

Did it register? Not even a little bit. Mind you, he never said a word to me. He apparently thought playing the part of Creepy McCreeperson would get him further.

I realize it’s New Year’s and most people tend to leave their inhibitions at the door. Not to mention this guy had probably been abliterated for hours by that point, and my being sober and annoyed may have come off as desperate to make out with anyone, but come on! If this guy has ever picked up a girl, ever, or with these methods, I would be greatly surprised. So why on earth was he so confident I would fall for it?

Finally, I got fed up enough to say very loudly that I was going to the bathroom, (oooo look at me. Quite the trickster!) and practically ran to my car. Hopefully that’s the last time I see goatee dude, but for all of you facial hair officianados (I’m not entirely sure what I mean by that, but it sounds good) if you have the guts to try to get the attention of a girl more power to you! I encourage it in fact! But keep in mind, following them around creepily and not saying a word isn’t the best way to go about it. In fact, you’re running a high risk of getting pepper sprayed.

Luckily for him mine wouldn’t fit in my cute beeded bag.

Oh, and invest in beard trimmers.

Learning About The Union and Non Sequiturs

Wed, 31 Dec 2008 02:37:52 -0500

It's always scary when an old acquaintance from high school randomly strikes up an AIM chat. Tonight was a prime example of that. Screen names have been changed to protect the drunk and or high...
Here are a few of my favorite exerts.

RandomHighGuy: sry damn
me: sorry for what?
RandomHighGuy: wow you are doin it huh
me: I'm confused
RandomHighGuy: i pushed a talk buttion
me: I really don't know what you're talking about
RandomHighGuy: me too

RandomHighGuy: whats gonna happen in iraq
me: huh?
RandomHighGuy: with a new prez
me: I dunno
RandomHighGuy: me neither

RandomHighGuy: i always thought it would be cool to be invoved in photography
me: well I don't actually take the photos I just choose the best ones from a set
RandomHighGuy: hows photography pay
me: I don't do photography
but my job pays well enough.
RandomHighGuy: union pay is like 14 non union / 22 union, operatior 19 nunioin, 30 nion
me: ic

I took Chunk to the office with me tonight, as I usually do when...

Wed, 31 Dec 2008 02:25:57 -0500

I took Chunk to the office with me tonight, as I usually do when I work the graveyard shift, but it’s a little different than usual. In the past he would just walk around for a bit, then fall asleep, as any good guard dog would. However, tonight he’s strangely attentive and following me with his eyes constantly.

I think he thinks I’m going to leave him again.

Learn from others' mistakes...

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 15:28:00 -0400

Learn from others' mistakes...:

John Mayer Doucheometer ranking: 9.5

If you look and pose anything like this. Chances are,...

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 15:14:54 -0400

If you look and pose anything like this. Chances are, you’re trying too hard and it shoes. There’s a little thing called a doucheometer that I like to reference in cases like these. He registers at a ten. If not higher.

It’s okay to say no to an invitation to the ballet. I...

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 13:37:59 -0400

It’s okay to say no to an invitation to the ballet. I would too.

If a girl presents the opportunity, dance with her! You’ll...

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 13:35:00 -0400

If a girl presents the opportunity, dance with her! You’ll look like more of a jackass if you say no out of embarassment rather than getting out there and embarassing yourself.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive...

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 13:17:24 -0400

Ask and Ye Shall Receive...:

I’ve had a pretty crappy week so far due to a couple of circumstances out of my control. Just a few moments ago I said “I really need some good news,” outloud to myself. Whatdaya know. The next click, and there was news of a new live action TMNT movie potentially being made. I’d still like to get maybe some more personal good news, but this will satisfy me for right now.

Happy Hump Day Everybody!

It’s funny until you realize you just shaved your...

Tue, 02 Sep 2008 19:53:03 -0400

It’s funny until you realize you just shaved your friend’s ass crack.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Tue, 02 Sep 2008 00:34:04 -0400

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

In Honor Of Labor Day.

Tue, 02 Sep 2008 00:31:54 -0400

In Honor Of Labor Day.:

If this is true Annie Leibovitz gets an 8.3 on the douchometer.

I Hope McCain Keeps Digging Himself Into A Hole!

Fri, 29 Aug 2008 11:45:54 -0400

bryanmckay:

I guess the best thing you can say about Sarah Palin is that she barely has a voting record for anyone to attack.
Wait, what’s that? Obama lacks experience? Guess you can’t go around calling him out for that anymore.

And for the record, her experience consists of two years as governor of Alaska and a few years as a City Council member and Mayor in a town with a population around 5500. Prior to that, she was a local sports reporter, worked on her husband’s commercial fishing boat, and won some beauty pageants.
Boy, McCain sure knows how to pick ‘em!

Go here for GREAT Mexican food. Try the ceviches or fish tacos, or anything else from what I hear. Thank me later.

Thu, 28 Aug 2008 22:00:07 -0400

Go here for GREAT Mexican food. Try the ceviches or fish tacos, or anything else from what I hear. Thank me later.