dont try to sell me that!

this is why you don't answer the door to strangers because on the other side will stand an out-of-breath highschool girl trying to sell you a subscription to USA Today and even though you explain to her that USA Today isn't a real newspaper she tells you that it will help her go to a school like UCLA one day so she asks if you would like to make a donation instead and because your parents made you go to church when you were younger this out-of-breath girl is making you feel guilty so you say hold on one minute and look for your purse but you don't feel that guilty anymore and you're not sure that you trust this out-of-breath girl, so you apologize and say you're going to close the door for a minute and you wonder if she'll think that you just found a way to get rid of her even though you are actually looking for your purse and you find your purse but you only have one dollar and you lost you checkbook 6 months ago anyways and you wonder if giving one dollar is worse than just keeping the door shut and hoping she walks away and this thought takes up the span of oh about 27 seconds and you say fuck it and go back out to the front door and the girl is still standing there beaming and she's not out of breath anymore and you say here you go and hand her the dollar and start to shut the door because the interaction is making you feel guilty again and the girl calls you "Miss" and that makes you feel old and then as you shut the door and head back to your room to continue reading the elitist memoir bullshit that you like to read so much you hear the doorbell of your neighbors house ring and a familiar voice chime out "Sorry to bother you but…"

-something that happened to me just now. the boring life of madi v.

"June is busting out all over"

I'd like to start this post off with a "Hello there. How have you been? It's been awhile hasn't it?" I've been reading up on a few different bouquins...mostly old plays that I once performed aka "The Heiress", "Steel Magnolias", "The Dining Room", and "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?", and more specifically, I've been reading them aloud.

That is to say, if one were to happen upon my room en route to the "main" bathroom, they would hear me speaking in different accents, voices, and characters. I'd seem a bit schizo to the passerby, but it's good to get into a groove and read the words of the playwright in the way they were supposed to be read.

I am also reading Tina Fey's "Bossy Pants" (which finally got to me, as Madison originally made the purchase and the book made the usual "roomate rounds" and I was last out of the four of us to receive it)--you can tell how poor our apartment is when we start to ration our book time. I'm also slowly getting through Marlon Brando's autobiography "Songs My Mother Taught Me", Marcel Proust's biography "Monsieur Proust" en francais, and lastly, a book that I absolutely love yet have been trudging through due to various external activities that have taken up most of my time, "What's Mine is Yours: Collaborative Consumption". You can guess what that one's about.

In regards to the telly, it is all "internet" and "my usual British shows" (aka The Inbetweeners, Misfits, Skins, Shameless, AbFab, Posh Nosh, Doctor Who) or the ever so classy "Keeping Up With the Kardashians" ...the latter being influenced by my girly roomates.

I've also started (now featured on Hulu.com) "The Book Group", an English comedy about a small book group that gets together and discusses whatever book they've chosen for the week--aka their messed up personal lives. So far it seems decent, though i've only watched the pilot episode and you-know-how-that-sort-of-thing-can-go.

Job-wise, Madison is now working at a gossip blog. She's finally putting the pen to the paper and though it may not be the wga-winning script she'll one-day write, it's a great start. And she's good at that "pop-culture, gossipy stuff". I would never have known about Blake Lively and whatshisface from the Titanic if it weren't for her. Oh. Leonardo DiCaprio. That's right.

On my end, I am about to travel to France for the third time in my life. I've quit my part-time serving job to pursue my full-time acting job, but i've kept my other part-time job at the Academy so that I can make some money while traveling this seemingly suicidal yet only worthy career path I have chosen for myself. Call it insanity, what you will, my plan is to finish up the play I'm in (oh yes, I'm also in a play which ends early July), go to Paris and truly live for a month, and then come back to L.A. and commit myself fully to get what needs to be done, done.

June gloom has been exiled from our apartment. It's all about the June buchachi, referring to the title of this post as this song lyric is not so subtly perverse. Yes, Rogers and Hammerstein, i'm talking to you! This was a real nice clam bake until you riddled your entire musical with sexual connotation...Polliwogs never turning into frogs?... My Boy BILL?--please tell June, from me, to stop busting out all over the meadow and the hills! It's disgusting and frankly my darlings, I could do without it.

Come see my play this weekend and the next, as posted via our joint twitter account that I secretly set up a few years back against Maddie's wishes, but which she now secretly enjoys because she gets the perks of tweeting without all of the responsibility . If not...I'll see you when I get back from France, if I do not end up staying there for the rest of my life.

A+++
Kimberley