me and my momma hopped in a u-haul van

Two parents, a 14' U-haul truck, three hours after work, and I was out of that stupid yellow-walled "space for a bed" in that dilapidated orange house forever.

So now I'm a resident of Anaheim, living in a giant two-story apartment a few blocks north of the resort. I'm living with Katie and Tom, both CMs and two of the nicest, laid-back people I know. In two days, their old roommate is gone for good and I get my own room. As humongous a part of my life as it's been, I'm jacked about sharing the same ZIP code with Disneyland, and even more excited about finally having four walls to call my own.

Mousetrap's shirt sales to date quadrupled over the weekend: Lyndsay bought a shirt, and Liz bought two! So far the "Courtesy" ladies' ringer and the "can I ER?" baseball jersey have sold two apiece. I ordered the "Mousetrap" black logo and the "I dated a face character" shirts, so I can get a first-hand look at the quality of these things.

Master services' new contract got approved over the weekend. I'm surprised that 40% of CMs made it on Saturday to vote "no" on the thing. I work my butt off so I'm happy about the pay raise (and the pro-rated back pay I should be getting). It's well deserved. I'm only sorry for the future CMs who didn't have a say in the contract. Maybe one day our company will remember that to attract talented employees, you have to be an attractive employer first.

It annoys me that I work harder and longer every day, every week, than many of our firmly entrenched full-time CMs who manage to hang onto their wealth of benefits despite their terrible performance and poor attendance records. But then I remember that part about how I make more money than they do, and that I'm way happier with my life than they are.

And everything is okay...

notice how you celebrate success

Wherever she is, whatever she's up to right now, remember one thing: Amanda P. is awesome. She bought the first Mousetrap shirt last night, a ladies' "COURTESY" ringer.

In just three days on MySpace, Mousetrap has officialy accrued more friends thatn I have. It's growing, ever so slowly. 

it ain't no lie. bye-bye-bye.

a little bit out there.

Adam the fashion designer. Surprised? Me too.

I told a couple friends about my idea, went home and slept on it, and first thing the next morning procured and installed Photoshop. I had four shirts designed that night, did five more the next night, then threw in a bumper sticker, pin and mug for good measure.

On Sunday I posted a bulleting annoucing "Mousetrap" to my MySpace friends. On Monday I set up Mousetrap's own MySpace and on Tuesday asked over 150 people we know to "friend" us. At last check, we're at 81.

The feedback so far has been overwhelmingly positive. I have people telling me what a great idea this was, giving me their own ideas for merch, even volunteering to be models. The only thing they're not doing is actually buying my stuff. I can guess at a couple possible reasons, but I'm not sure why. Maybe it's the price (shipping's a lot), maybe they're doing the same thing I do when I see a shirt online that I like (they're like "ooh, I that's cool, I'll definitely buy this later!" and then they never do). Either way, this needs to be seen through from the "hey that's a good idea" phase to the "hey I'm buying that right now" phase.

I found new living arrangements with Katie and Tom. They have a huge apartment. Two stories. Bigger than this house for sure. I get my own room, and the rent's only $25 more a month than what I pay now. The plan is to pack everything on Thursday and Friday, move out Saturday night after work, and move in on Sunday morning. Can't wait. I've had it with this place.

I didn't get the job I interviewed for. The usual reason.

In the time it took to write this, Mousetrap now has 83 friends.

"courtesy."

I'm shut behind closed doors but I can't hide from the smell of burnt microwave popcorn drifting through the cracks from the next room. Nor can I think of a good reason why two well-paid desk jockeys would be too scared (or maybe too good) to leave their cubicles and come play at Splash Mountain.

Inspiration strikes at the strangest times. Aboard the shuttle this morning I had a sudden brainstorm so brilliant that it made me smile all day long, even after my new trainees didn't show up. Every little thought, every sudden idea kept developing it into something even bigger.

Then I realized I didn't know the first thing about bringing this idea to fruition. But if I went into anything new knowing exactly how to do it, then what would be the point?

so I'll let you know, if you need somewhere to go

She's sitting in the living room watching her second Star Trek rerun of the afternoon and I'm hiding in the office where she supposedly did me a "favor" by allowing me to put my bed here for two months. My desk collects dust in the garage, along with plastic containers filled with my belongings. They've waited since January to be unpacked, but my things aren't allowed in her office.

Little does she know, I've already made alternate living arrangements with new roommates, will check out my new home after work on Thursday, and if all goes according to plan will start moving out by this weekend. I hope she finds these things happening awfully fast.

Her blogs are sheer comedy. She describes herself as easy-going. A few months ago I would have agreed, but now I know better. She calls herself "happy-go-lucky," yet just last week considered herself "probably clinically depressed." I don't know who she'll be next week.

She says her friends "ROCK!" for getting her through her misery. There's nothing wrong with friendship. Friends are great. But family trumps friendship every time.

You'll know why when you arrive home late at night and your family stayed up to talk and watch SNL with you. When your sister breaks down what an asshole your roommate is over Thin Mints in the living room. When your mom takes you out for groceries and makes you awesome fajitas. When your dad hands you a beer, tells you his theory about your roommate stealing the rent money, and reminds you help's always a phone call away.

When your whole family says they'll drop everything to come and help you move, just name the date and time. That's when you'll know -- or be reminded, like I constantly am -- how amazing your family really is.

so I'll just drive and disappear

My bag is packed, the bed is made, I'm dressed and ready to go. I'm leaving for home straight from work tonight, and I won't be back until Monday afternoon. No one here knows about it. It's like I'm planning my escape from prison, and I love every second of it.

I'm the most impatient person you know. I hate waiting for anything, which is ironic since I work at Disneyland. But here I am, waiting to hear if I've landed a new job, abd if there'll be a spot available for me at another apartment. Normally, waiting drives me crazy. But I work so much right now that I'm barely thinking about it. It doesn't speed up the time, but it takes these giant, looming things off my mind for a tiny little bit. 

So that's something to be grateful for. That, and daring jailbreaks down the 5 freeway.

the orange house in orange

...didn't work out, for many reasons. It's disappointing.

Your friends will get new jobs, buy new clothes, meet new people. They'll find other interests, make new friends, take their old ones for granted, and become too good for all the places you used to hang around. Your friends will change. They can't not, it's like resisting gravity.

Not that you're not changing either. But if there ever comes a day where the way you've changed can't be reconciliated with the changes you see in someone else... then perhaps it's time to move along. So that's what I'm doing. I hope it works out.

Oh, and don't trust your friends with money. That seems to complicate things.

in 30 days, we'll get the old heave-ho.