A few months ago I wrote a series of posts complaining about how incredibly exhausted I was in many, many ways. Right now, I’m only exhausted in one way – Julie need sleepy. But I’m doing it to myself, and the thing is, I feel great about it.

As I’ve mentioned, late nights are my forte. I do my best work between midnight and sunrise, when the rest of the world seems to be asleep and it’s just me, the quiet, and some major doses of caffeine to keep me going. Last night I stayed up ’til about 4:30am, starting some major projects and doing my first solo aquarium water changes (weeks overdue) while Adam got a few hours of sleep before leaving for work at 5am. Evey and I crashed out for a few hours, woke up once to the incessant grinding of an aquarium filter that had, for some reason, stopped sucking in water (not good, not good), then got up for the day around 10:30.

And I’ve been going ever since.

I’ve actually accomplished a lot in the past 36 hours. I bought my plane tickets to New York for a private gig I’m playing, replaced the air filter in my KIA, paid bills, sent some important mail, ordered heartworm and flea/tick meds for Evey, sent some overdue emails, etc. The list isn’t any shorter, of course, because as soon as you start working on one thing you think of 5 more that are probably more important.

But my one great weakness isn’t the list, and it isn’t my penchant for sleep deprivation.

It’s frickin’ Text Twist.

I’m a sucker for puzzle games – Dr Mario, Snood, Pop ‘n Drop, Bounce Out, Brick Breaker, Solitaire, anything that lets me set myself on auto pilot while my brain shuts down for a necessary break. But there’s a strange phenomenon with me and Text Twist, and I’ve only ever encountered it in one other mind-blanking game – Pipe Dream. And the phenomenon is that I cannot get it out of my head.

Not kidding. I actually had to quit Text Twist cold turkey last fall because I couldn’t fall asleep. 5- and 6-letter groups would form in my head of their own volition, and I’d find myself spinning them into 3-, 4-, 5- and 6-letter words before I realized what was happening. I couldn’t shut them off. And worse, the sets were never consistent – I’d start with “WANDER” and before I realized it, the letters had shifted to “FLIGHT.” Hours of lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to shut off the letters.

Pipe Dream used to do it to me, too – I’d get trapped in a cycle of ill-fitting pieces, trying to fit them together into a smooth path for the green goo seeping slowly toward the exit. It was pretty sad. It is pretty sad – some people can’t sleep because they’re trying to solve a major crisis at work, or because the state of starving children in Africa is overwhelming them. I get green goo and scrabble.

Just, um, one more game…

I went to Office Max today to pick up photo paper.

I left with 2 packs of photo paper, a pack of silver Sharpies, a Rolodex folder, and a new storage unit for my office supplies. And this was after several acts of restraint.

There’s just something about office supplies that gets me ridiculously excited. They inspire me, they motivate me. Some people go shopping for new shoes or a new TV to cheer themselves up – I head straight for the big racks of pens and markers and paper. And when I’m not in need of cheer, like today, it’s even worse, because I’m already feeling motivated and inspired and then suddenly I’m presented with tools to act on my plans! Hooray!

It sounds trivial, I know, but I don’t think you realize the extent of my obsession (though I’m not as bad as these people). Most people have some kind of home office, usually containing letter-sized paper for their printer, a few spiral notebooks, a stack of Post-Its, and a small selection of pens and pencils. Occasionally there will also be scissors, a stapler, and markers, if they’re thorough.

My home office currently has the following:
* sheafs of paper – letter, legal, photo (8.5×11 and 4×6), stylish cotton, heavy weight, Levenger Circa inserts, and assorted colors
* 5 pairs of scissors
* a paper cutter
* 2 hole punches (one regular, one Levenger Circa punch)
* assorted fasteners (Circa rings in multiple sizes, Levenger paper clips in multiple sizes, rubber bands, paper clips, staples)
* paint pens, Sharpies, markers, highlighters, colored pencils, pencils, pens
* 9 different colors and sizes of Post-It
* 4 kinds of tape (Scotch regular, Scotch magic, black duct, silver duct)
* stacks of notebooks in assorted sizes and bindings
* florescent sticky flags in assorted colors and sizes
* and…a stapler

I’m sure I’m missing something. And the sad thing is…I want more…

I’ve missed LA. There are things that happen here that simply don’t happen elsewhere. For instance, the Rite-Aid story I referenced last night – make that two Rite-Aid stories. 9am yesterday I stopped in at Rite-Aid to pick up Band-Aids for my rapidly blistering feet (do not buy shoes at DSW – just don’t do it), and got in line to pay behind two other women. The one in front was probably in her late 30s, pretty average chick; the one between us was apparently a prostitute, wearing super tight low jeans with her ass pushed way out at what must have been a painful angle for her spine and an ice cream cone serving as a prop to demonstrate her, um, skills.

Anyhoo… Who knows what really happened, but at some point while we waited in line, the hooker decided that the woman ahead of her had looked at her funny, and started freaking out. “What’s yo problem, beeyatch? Yeah I seen the way you was lookin’ at me, what the…” yada yada, you get the picture. For about five minutes. She got more and more aggressive, ’til they finally opened up another lane so the two of them would be physically separated; the first chick paid and left, but was dumb enough to throw a few insults back as she walked out, and the hooker was right on her heels out to the parking lot. Somehow she didn’t manage to catch up and the first chick (a big Hillary Clinton fan, according to her bumper stickers) got away.

The thing is, this was at Rite-Aid at 9 in the morning. And the whole time, I was standing right behind the two of them trying not to laugh loudly enough to be heard. Hooker chick would not have surprised me if she had pulled a gun out of her bag, and yet I could not help but find the whole damn thing just ridiculous.

Rite-Aid story number two? Same Rite-Aid, at the end of my day, when I stopped in on the way back to my friend’s apartment. I was the only one in line this time, and was just paying for my beverage and chatting with the sales clerk when a young woman who looked like she hadn’t bathed in a few weeks walked in. She headed straight for the counter, and approached me, apologizing for interrupting but did I have a cell phone with me? I said yes but didn’t reach for it, asking her what she needed it for – I assumed she needed to make a call, which happens, but I also don’t just hand my phone to strangers.

Sure enough, she didn’t give the obvious answer (i.e. “I need to make a call, it’s an emergency”), instead just asking if I could let her hold the phone. Now seriously, when a random stranger asks you to hand her your phone, who’s dumb enough to hand it over? I may look like a ditzy midwestern tourist but – what am I saying, I didn’t look ditzy or like a tourist. I looked like I did when I lived here. I pulled out the phone on the opposite side, away from her, and held it up, asking what she needed it for. “I’m trying to figure out a technical problem,” she says – I think, “Sure, technically you have a problem trying to figure out how much you can sell my phone for.” She finally mumbled something about wondering what the date is, I told her it’s the 10th, she said that’s good because something happened on the 12th five years ago and she’s been counting down since April 1 but didn’t think that was a good idea. Then she left.

Me (to the clerk): “She was trying to steal my phone, right?”
Clerk: “Yeah, I’d say so.”
Me: “Okay, just making sure. Have a good night.”
Clerk: “You too, drive safely!”

But even with all that, I’ve gotta give the top most ridiculous LA story of the week (so far) to Heidi Montag. If you don’t know who Heidi Montag is – don’t worry about it, I had to Google her. She’s a blip on the fame radar, one of the stars of Laguna Beach and now The Hills, with a crappy CD, a bomb of a music video, and, well, at least a decent boob job.

I don’t care about any of this.

The only reason I even bothered to find it out is because today, as we went about day 2 of the Expo, there was a crew setting up a runway for what looked to be a fashion show. I checked out the signs and then looked online, and discovered that dear spoiled Heidi had added fashion design to her many, um, talents, and her recently launched clothing line – Heidiwood – would be on display tonight.

None of this is too remarkable. What is remarkable is how fricking retarded this chick is. She actually requested that the City of Los Angeles, in honor of her fashion show, change the Hollywood sign to say HEIDIWOOD. I’m not kidding.

Surprisingly, the LA City Council denied her request. I know, tough to believe.

Fun stuff happened today at the Expo, I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now, I’m so exhausted my eyes are closing on their own.

[Probably best to watch these somewhere besides your office. Unless you have a door to close, or a really cool boss.]

Adding on to South Park’s recent mockery of some of the most famous YouTube videos (and Patton Oswalt’s successful prosecution of YouTube on Lewis Black’s The Root of All Evil), here are some of my favorites.

* G-RATED *
Star Wars according to a 3-year-old (just too adorable for words)
This kid freaks me out (and makes me wish I had practiced more when I was little)
sneezing panda
Ever see a baby panda sneeze? (oddly enough, one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen…)
You’re going to coo before you can stop yourself (just go with it)

The Best 5-second Video EVER

* PG-13 (for adult themes and strong language) *
Slow motion water balloon (with a little, um, surprise at the end)
I’m F*cking Matt Damon (Sarah Silverman’s live on-air prank on her boyfriend, Jimmy Kimmel – frickin’ awesome)
I’m F*cking Ben Affleck (Jimmy’s retaliation, featuring Josh Groban, Robin Williams, Harrison Ford, Don Cheadle, Cameron Diaz, etc)
I’m F*cking Obama (okay, I know, I know, but come on, it’s funny)
What What in the Butt (and of course, South Park’s contribution to the insanity that is YouTube)

If you’ve been unaware of the LOLcats phenomenon, click the link and be prepared for really awful grammar and really cute pictures.

Not to be ignored, dog lovers have joined in with LOLdogs (for some reason, the link is “ihasahotdog.com“). A few choice samplings from today’s page:

And my personal favorite, a tribute to Richard Gere:

During SXSW – and less noticeably during the rest of the year – everything changes as you near Austin.

At O’Hare, it is a novelty to be seen carrying a guitar through the terminal. I often find myself engaged in the same conversation over and over:
“Yes, I play guitar.”
“Really, you played guitar in (high school / college / your brother-in-law’s band)?”
“Yeah, I play piano too.”
“My music? Well, it’s usually compared to (Norah Jones / Fiona Apple / Jewel / Sara Bareilles).”
“Haha…no, I won’t be playing the guitar on the plane, but if I do, I promise I’ll play Freebird.”

Little girls gaze shyly at me in the hallway. People are friendly.

In the transfer airport, this mood experiences a sharp shift as soon as I approach my gate. Everyone on my plane is a musician, or an A&R guy, or a sound guy, or at the very least is so desensitized to music and the whole music scene that I am not only no longer a novelty – I may as well be back in high school. At best, I am completely ignored; more often, I am regarded with an air of disdain, other musicians/A&R guys/sound guys sizing me up, determining with a focused sweep whether or not they know me and if I look like someone who will threaten their status.

I find it completely amusing, not threatening, but it certainly takes away much of the welcome vibe I used to feel whenever I visited Austin. I have friends here, and I love the weather and the city, and for quite some time I was planning to move here, before I landed in my much-loved current home. Now, though, I can’t imagine why I’d want to take myself out of the larger world where my chosen career is still something to be intrigued by or even admired and force my way into this hyper-competitive population.

Besides – I simply cannot understand why there aren’t any attractive, decently groomed men in the music scene around here. The guys headed to SXSW were blatantly obvious: tallish, extremely skinny, dressed in dull ill-fitting clothes (usually including a ratty blue hoodie) and hiding lazily under a curtain of shaggy, dirty hair. Do what you want, present yourself however you see fit, and if that’s the way you think your music is best represented, then fine.

But yuck.

I love flying. I know some people hate it, and I won’t lie and say I even love the security check lines or the dry recirculated air, but the truth is…I kind of do. I spend so much of my day isolated in the apartment, with just a puggle and TiVo for company while I work, that the novelty of the airport and all its quirks is invigorating.

And thank god for that, because I am a zombie today. I’ve spent the past 5 days working nonstop to create a new press kit – an idea Adam and I had almost a year ago but, being the procrastinator I am, I didn’t start until last week – and slept an average of 5 hours a night, with no sleep at all last night.

Caffeine no longer has any effect on me. No, that’s a lie – caffeine actually puts me to sleep, completely knocked out within half an hour of drinking it. Whatever that means is happening in my brain can’t be good.

Case in point:
I arrived in Atlanta for a long layover a few hours ago, and went wandering toward the shops in a sluggish haze, having consumed half a latte at O’Hare before boarding the plane and promptly passing out cold. I went to Bath & Body Works, hoping for something to both refresh my senses and nourish my cracked, dehydrated hands (dessicated, that’s a good word for my skin right now – I rocked the GRE).

I was in Bath & Body Works for close to half an hour, rubbing different creams into my hands and breathing in peppermint and lavender to wake my ass up. Eventually, I left, got a piece of pizza, and played around on the internet for a while. Then I decided to head toward my gate, and as I passed the Bath & Body Works again, a strong sweet scent caught my attention.

Looking into the front of the store, I couldn’t miss the giant purple Sweet Orchid display – two tables decorated with lotions, scrubs, creams and sprays all in the newest B&B scent, topped off with a giant (not kidding – towering at least 3 feet over my head) slowly twirling faux orchid plant.

This wouldn’t have shocked me so much if I hadn’t just been in the store an hour earlier and not seen any of it. So I went in and asked the woman at the counter, who recognized me (guitar cases make it very difficult to travel incognito), how long ago they’d set up the display.

“Um, over a week ago,” she replied, looking at me suspiciously.

I am so tired that I am completely oblivious to my surroundings, even when they involve giant spinning bouquets of flowers.

I will now enjoy my Ben & Jerry’s Mint Chocolate Chunk hot fudge sundae.

A few of my favorite things:

Having my ass rubbed with mint lotion by a man named Klaus
The new Gibson Robot Guitar
Watching Evey drink water out of a Dixie cup

…Realizing that the man named Klaus who was rubbing my ass a few hours ago is not listed on the spa website…

Just scroll down to the video of the “spoiled rotten 15-year old beauty queen”. And brace yourself. I think this might be real.

I just realized that I hadn’t posted here since before the FameCast announcement. Wow. I’m slow.

Well to be honest, I just decided that winning that kind of a competition, with all the hours I’d put in and all the energy expended, merited a bit of a holiday. And with Christmas and New Year’s shortly to follow, I felt like it was the perfect time to stop working. Completely. For almost a month… Yeah, okay, I probably should have at least kept up with a few things, but when I finally let myself relax, it’s all or nothing!

So now it is 2008, and I am recovering from last night’s shenanigans in downtown Chicago, curled up on the couch with my puppy gnawing on a Nylabone next to me and Predator 2 on the big screen. Yes, I said Predator 2 – I saw the new Alien vs Predator: Requiem last week and realized that I’d never seen, well, any Alien or Predator movie. And I love Bill Paxton, for some odd reason. So here I sit.

I actually saw some really great movies over the holiday, and I’m recommending them to you now unequivocally – go, watch, enjoy, laugh those holiday party pounds right off. You will not regret it.

Anyway, I’ve been on vacation long enough, I think. Time to kick things back into gear! Happy New Year, everyone. And watch out for big ugly creatures with more than one mouth.