Addiction, Three-Day Weekends, and Equilibrium

I should quit coffee cold turkey. I have traded the kiddie cartons of milk for mocha lattes. My sixth grade math teacher with the horrible coffee breath would be so proud. I have had two coffee drinks today to keep me going, a bowl of pasta for lunch (yes, the white flour kind). So...refined white flour, caffeine, and sugar.
My addiction has materialized so tomorrow, November 13th, I will go on without a cup o' joe.
Vamos a ver.

Three-Day Weekends.
Glorious. Truly and incredibly, glorious. I've forgotten what holidays feel like - what a day off feels like. It's nice to be reminded.
America, we need more holidays - sure, we're a younger country than others, but we have plenty to celebrate - let's throw in a few Festival Days, Bank Holidays, Let's Not Think About The Economy Day or National Day of Chillaxation?
But until then, will have to return to the task at hand...finding quick little great escapes from L.A. ...

Equilibrium
I feel like the Heroes story composition - I've traded one set of problems for a new one. Breaking even, 'a la Jerry in that one Seinfeld episode where he lost twenty bucks that Elaine threw out the window of his apartment building and then he found a twenty spot in his coat pocket.
i.e. the apartment and roommate living situation, the family bugging me to being surprisingly harmonious, the overcharged initiative sparking friend to the apathetic exhausted one.

BTW, Heroes is getting a critical beat-ing if you haven't noticed. We all know the numbers are down, but what are the writers thinking? Not from a media standpoint, but as a fan - the show's focus feels shattered, storylines convoluted, and characters, well, just plain acting out of character. Heroes, you're our breakout friend we met that was a hit at that party, a couple of parties, and all of a sudden, we have no idea who you are trying to be anymore, since, you have no idea who you are anymore. Take the tried-and-true advice to the core: just be yourself.

14 days until Thanksgiving weekend...

Signs

There are certain events in life that stand out to me - things that remind me of the fact that I have very little power in this world, but someone up there hasn't forgotten about me. Sure, faith is personal, and I don't know if most people's beliefs in atheism, the supernatural, or modern world religions come into play, but for me, nothing happens in complete futility.

The specifics

Hot water pressure: the hot water pressure problem has been plaguing my roommate and I ever since we moved into our apartment. Nonexistent hot water pressure - resulting in more of a trickle-down effect of water in the shower, which sometimes isn't even that hot. Also, the water takes a couple minutes to warm up - shower, sink, and kitchen.

I killed a spider in my room. It was on my bed.

Our evil neighbors blocked my car in this morning and left a scratch on my bumper.

Our evil neighbors.

There is no heat in our bedrooms.

Any parking ticket issued in the greater Los Angeles area.

Paying for parking anywhere.
Alright, I'm noticing that this is becoming more of a list of cons about L.A., so let me return the focus to more relevant events.

The ongoing strike. This goes hand-in-hand with...

The neverending job search in this industry.

Temping gigs are also super-quiet these days.

There's no love in LA. Anyone else notice the heavy marketing efforts of Singles Awareness Day?

What's a struggling assistant, I mean temp, to think, say, do? It's been a tumultuous ride these past several months. I have gained a level of understanding with other friends that have experienced extended searches for jobs (six months to a year or longer). All of these educated, intelligent, well-spoken adults with plenty of ambition and maturity, yet they're in the job market for months. I think it's a miracle that anyone survives the months of self-deprecation, disappointment, and debt.
So I'm wondering if it's not the time for me. All these things add up and my heightened awareness of these signs are what trouble me of late. There's only so much a struggling assistant can take. Either my west coast experience is ending and I should take heed of another calling, or I should stick, and keep on keepin' on.
Ah, decisions. Don't you love those character-building years of your twenties?

Besides, those $3.50 designer cupcakes won't pay for themselves. (Sidenote: I wonder what the typical assistant salary affords in Los Angeles and how this lifestyle survives, on average. More on this later.)

COTW

Malibu con piña. Ok, anything with Malibu.

That guy at my neighborhood gym who looks kind of like Dane Cook. Except with an earring and tattooed.

People who treat you for stuff without you mentioning the fact that you're unemployed.

On the bright side

Reruns of Seinfeld.

Catching up on season three's eps of Veronica Mars. I'm still hurt, CW.

Finally got around to reading a few books I've been putting off.

Thank God for television, Blockbuster Online, and my roommate's kind offer to use her laptop.

Trader Joe's. Cheese plates and all.

More nights at the salsa club. Hopefully there will be more marketable twentysomething gentlemen there. Whom also love Jason Mraz, dark chocolate, and skiing. To start.