iTunes My Mind Toward Politics!

In the iTunes store, search for "presidential candidate profiles" for an interesting series of short videos ABC News made on the biography each of the leading candidates. It's not entirely still applicable, since I found out right after watching them that Joe Biden and Chris Dodds have now dropped out of the race.

What is interesting is how almost all of these interviewees have had an inordinate amount of hardship in their lives, whether it was emotional (Obama's abandonment, Edwards's son's death) or physical (McCain's POW torture). Is the response of overcoming a hardship to strive for "success" only evident in extroverts (and how could you not be one if you were running for president?) or is this response universal? In other words, is it just circumstance that these men have had difficult lives or have their experiences caused them to achieve the places they are today?

"How dare you, D'Artagnan! And smack 'em"

Sonorus!

Seeing as how I'm pretty much a worthless void right now I might as well try to make myself useful. Listening to the Ricky Gervais podcast at work I heard that voice over acting is extremely profitable. Now, ever since I saw "The Little Mermaid" when I was five I've wanted to be the voice of a Disney princess. Every time I talk to Emily she says "Please Haley, do the voice for a Disney movie. Please!" (as though I can just walk in and accept the part). I don't think I'd ever land something that gargantuan, but voice over work does sound fun. When I worked at KCPR I think I had the most fun when I could read those little public announcements on air. Hmm. To find out more about it I typed "how to become a voice actor" into the google search engine. The first article stated steps to achieving this goal:
(Abbreviated)
1. As a child or teenager, take acting and voice lessons and do plays.
2. Work a few shifts as a disc jockey for a local radio station.
I could hardly believe my good luck. First two steps - CHECK!

La Vue de la Mer

I finally figured out what the area I live is called. Being categorized feels good:

The Ocean View district has always been intrinsically tied to transportation. Started as a community built around a railway station, the Ocean View grew from a valley of dairy and vegetable farms to a vital urban neighborhood.

Alemany Boulevard, the Interstate 280 freeway, and BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) took the place of the old steam locomotives, as the Ocean View continues to host the paths from San Francisco to the Peninsula.

Originally an Italian-Irish-German neighborhood, the Ocean View was one of the few places in post-World War II San Francisco where African-American families could buy property. During redevelopment in the Western Addition/Fillmore in the 1960s and 70s, more African-American families moved to this western neighborhood. In the past five years, relatively lower real estate prices have brought in a new influx of Asians, Latinos and Caucasians, making Ocean View one of the most culturally diverse neighborhoods in San Francisco.
--From the OMI Website

I think I am one of those "Caucasians" that they accuse of looking for cheap housing in the last paragraph. Seeing as my parents have been bugging me to put up some photos of my house, now might be as good a time as ever.

My house, right-side-up.

...Hill taken into account.

My street.

Muni stop where I wait every morning. The library is that yellow building across the street.

The hill looking up toward my house. Steeper than it looks here.

I Will be a Shooting Staaaar

Today I randomly came across this, my one foray into film acting, on youtube. This is hilarious, if you haven't seen it:

Ode to the Forgotten

At my internship about 15% of the work is copying or printing out galleys (basically, the book printed on 11x17 paper), filling out a form, and sending both to the Library of Congress - where the information will be registered. You know that page at the beginning of books that lists something like ISBN 978-1185733498. Travel > United States > Arizona > Grand Canyon. That's where they get that information to print in the book and keep on their files. Yesterday I printed out the galley for a book called Night Vision by Troy Paiva. It's a fascinating photography book of abandoned places in the Southwest. Check out the link to his website, Lost America under my links. Apparently Mr. Paiva is a leader in a movement called UrbEx, or Urban Exploration. These explorers seek out the forgotten, the deserted, the hauntingly decrepit places that were once full of life, but now lie silent. I became completely immersed in the book and read nearly the entire thing. The photographs were achingly lonely and made me want to steal a nice SLR and join the Urban Explorers pronto. It's so fascinating how nature reclaims these structures - left to their own devices like weeds. Plus, the idea of trespassing appeals to me. I remember when I was little reading in something like (but not necessarily) National Geographic, a story of the Salton Sea. It boomed as a lake resort in the '50s, but once it began to dry up, motels and gas stations were abandoned. The photographs gave me chills.

And so the mission to visit the Salton Sea, Bodie Ghost Town, etc, begins...once I get my camera, that is...

The Cave Mouth Shines by Pure Force of Will

In between paying off my student loan (Freudian slip - mistyped that as "load") and trying to find a gym (again, mistyped that as "guy") and applying to jobs, I forgot to be heartbroken. I don't know why I'm not sadder about breaking up with my first semi-serious boyfriend and constant companion since I moved here, but I'm not going to question it. I feel great, but there's also an overshadowing hesitancy that this could all come crashing down on my head at any moment. In the meantime, I will walk alone and explore and work at a radio station and maybe audition for a play and get a real job. Chronicle Books is hiring a publicity assistant and a marketing assistant and I'm going to apply for both this weekend.

This place is weird. I see transvestites and pimps (legit ones, if you can call pimps legit - not just frat boys dressing up for Halloween. I never knew people really dressed in those calf-length fur coats with a red-plumed hat) and human waste on the sidewalk walking back from work. Then again, today was strange in general. Once I got off the Muni the streets were nearly deserted compared to the normal 8:45am rush. Everyone is still savoring the plush glow of Christmas, I suppose, wrapped in a blanket watching new dvds or reheating a feast of leftovers that bloom deliciously from tinfoil buds.

I Wish My Smile Was Your Favourite Kind of Smile

There's a new trend, or maybe not so new trend, in English singers affecting a cockney London accent to appear more "common." I don't know if Kate Nash's is real or not, but I'm starting to love her. She's just so open and needy. I completely identify with it. Fine, I'm needy. I don't care. She looks like Jenny Lewis and is way cooler than Lily Allen. Take the following lyrics to "The Nicest Thing" - currently playing on repeat on my itunes. Isn't this exactly what every girl thinks? Some of us (unfortunately not me) are too grown up for sentimentality, but you know if you were thirteen you'd be listening to this and crying.

Kate Nash, The Nicest Thing

All I know is that you're so nice.
You're the nicest thing I've seen.
I wish that we could give it a go,
See if we could be something.

I wish I was your favourite girl.
I wish you thought I was the reason you are in the world.
I wish my smile was your favourite kind of smile.
I wish the way that I dressed was your favourite kind of style.

I wish you couldn't figure me out.
But you always wanna know what I was about.
I wish you'd hold my hand when I was upset.
I wish you'd never forget the look on my face when we first met.

I wish you had a favourite beauty spot
That you loved secretly
'Cause it was on a hidden bit
That nobody else could see.

Basically, I wish that you loved me.
I wish that you needed me.
I wish that you knew when I said two sugars,
Actually I meant three.

I wish that without me your heart would break.
I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake.
I wish that without me you couldn't eat.
I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep.

Look, all I know is that you're the nicest thing I've ever seen
And I wish that we could see if we could be something.
Yeah I wish that we could see if we could be something.