P.I.M.P. this, tool

I have had horrible, horrible rap music stuck in my head all day, except for the few hours when Ever of Thee took over. But even then, it was looped with freaking P.I.M.P. Man, I hate Fity. Or whatever his name is.

I wish I had more ambitious fantasies. I mean, Jaya had a good idea... subtract one person, of course... but I didn't make that up. And I probably will never actually fantasize about it. Because honestly, I don't fantasize sexually. I fantasize about being famous or making friends or meeting people or flirting or kissing or writing or directing or... or... or...
I don't think I'm a very good assistant director. However, I know I am a fatabulous stage manager, and that is why I am going to apply for a job as a stage management intern at some theater company this summer. Plus, I could possibly schedule it around Chotiner's hypothetical class, which is the schedule-around event of the summer.
If I love him so much, how come it isn't his name I found myself scrawling in the margins?

(no subject)

My god, I wish Clone High were still on the air. I've gotta watch those episodes I've got downloaded.
Then, I have to marry Will Forte. The one funny bit left on SNL ("Pooooor Jesus") (Tina Fey excluded), a former producer on That 70's Show, Creator/Voice/Writer/Theme Song Singer on Clone High... Cool guy, that one.
I just wrote myself a résumé (where does that darn accent go?). I've got over a page an a half of theatrical experience, the majority as actress. (I started with my middle school credits, which was before I discovered the joys of being involved without having to wear silly costumes).