Happy Monday!

Monday's suck (typically) so I'll try to provide some mindless distraction, with a little weekend recap.

1. I saw The Golden Compass this weekend. So disappointing. Then again, being a huge fan of the books I guess I am not surprised that it just didn't compare. Here's hoping the likely sequel will be much, much better.

2. I also saw Juno which was a fantastic movie and I recommend it to everyone. Michael Cera is brilliant, along with all of the cast, but once again, he proves his comic timing is perfection.

3. It was around 47 degrees in Santa Monica on Saturday night and I was really feeling the cold. This makes me incredibly nervous as I pride myself in being able to handle harsh temperatures. What am I going to do when I go back home? I am going to be such a wuss. This is very upsetting to me.

4. I had a fascinating experience at a bar over the weekend. Here's what happened: I was out with a few friends at The Gas Lite, a dive/karaoke bar that I actually thing is somewhat notorious for celebrity spottings or surprise performances. Being the ridiculous person that I am, I decided I wanted to sing a song (I am not going to reveal what it was because it's embarrassing--let's just say it was something in the country/pop/rock area). After writing down my request the karaoke lady informs me they probably wont get to my song (which, in retrospect is a very, very good thing). As I am about to head back to the booth my friends have claimed for the night some random guy starts chatting with me, asking me what song I was going to sing, and we are making some small talk, I'm thinking he's moderately cute despite his weird army cap (is he a surfer dude? a hipster? a punk? this is so beyond my realm of understanding...). Anyways, the following exchange takes place:

Moderately cute boy: "So, what do you do?"
Me: (awkward pause, in which I recall many a night in New York when I used to love to tell people I did nothing, or was unemployed, or a socialite-in-training, but realize that here in LA people might not be a shocked or amused by that response so I better come up with something quickly and the first thing that comes to mind is) "I'm a writer."

Okay... I'm a WRITER? HAH. This is such a sad, sad exaggeration of the truth and I cannot believe I just said this but at this point I am going to run with it. (I will say I do have a small history of lying to people in bars--it's fun.)

Moderately cute boy: "Oh so you are on strike! Yeah, I am in SAG, I get emails from your people all the time."
Me: (Oh, he's an actor, well that explains the hat and general demeanor) "Uh, yeah, well I am not actually in the WGA but I am really feeling the effects."
Moderately cute boy: "So what do you write."
Me: "I'm working on a variety of developments."
Moderately cute boy: "Yeah my buddy and I write as well, we are working on a pilot."
Me: "Oh yeah? Me too."

ME TOO? Oh my God, who am I? (Furthermore, what is this pilot I am working on? I'd really like to know!) The best part about this entire conversation, is that we are screaming over a very poor rendition of a U2 song. And the fact is, that every lie coming out of my mouth is very plausible to this guy, in this situation, in this town.

Ultimately, we chat for a little while longer and I am able to extract myself from what has become a ridiculous conversation without digging too deep of a hole. Although I do recall saying something about how I was looking for a more corporate job and how I was going to "sell-out to the man." (Oh this is just miserable.)

5. Without trying very hard, I have an immense talent for saying stupid things that make me look like a real jack-ass. Congratulations, me.