Opening Credits

I stare blankly; my mouth hanging open, drool testing the laws of gravity, like a single big toe testing the temperature of a steaming bathtub. Clearly intellect was the forty-sixth chromosome that jumped ship at my conception. I have a tendency to lose myself to my own thoughts, and I never looked attractive whilst in the moment. At least my jaw isn’t jut forth like some kind of ape, a look that I am known to illustrate when the there is no thought in my head to get lost amongst.
I have just described to you every attempt I have ever made at creating a blog. I’ve finally decided to give in to public outcry and give the people what they want. You should know now, I tend to exaggerate to make my life seem a bit more colorful. I live a life that is filmed in black and white. I write in Technicolor.
Over the three and half years I have owned my own computer, the file "My Documents" has been slowly filled with half-assed attempts at creating genious. Almongst the rows of abandoned projects are the first pages of several works that I had pretty much copied from some movie or book that I really liked. I have a tendency to do this. I watch or read something that sparks my creativity and I jump into a story. Usually the first few paragraphs are pure genious; poetry that flows from my fingertips like sangria when I'm not counting my Weight Watchers points. Oh, do not fret my friends; you will get to know my relationship with the scale; she can be a cold, hard, dirty bitch sometimes. However, I digress.
So, where was I? Oh yes, my attempts at genious usually continues for about five pages then it goes like this:

The author wipes her brow with a sigh of relief as she scrolls up and reads over her tireless work. A look of accomplishment disappears from the author's face; like nail polish that has been tested a bit too soon. The author scrolls up once more, this time a bit hurried. Her brow furrows as she disects her writing a bit more. She reads on, her lips mouthing the words with furvor. She finishes and looks up at the empty room. She sighs heavily, "This is fucking Twilight."

And so it goes, just insert different titles; Twilight, Harry Potter, the Bible, what have you. I have written my own version of many works, and as you can see; it has gotten me so far. So after several attempts at a novel, I tried to break into the world of film. Obviously, basing my writings on the works of others did not garner much success. So what other resource could I suckle to achieve literary infamy?! Well, the answer is always going to be my friends and family. They are a literal infestation of literary lice. And so I began my very first screenplay.
Locked and loaded with nearly 21 years of artillery, I put on my Diablo Cody a-line bob and set off on the yellow brick road to Oscar-town. God bless Facebook and my generation's obsession with recording every goddamn quote they find heart-warming and humorous. I must admit, I tend to skim over the countless Taylor Swift lyrics and any sentence that ends in a little heart. But this is where I found my most meaty lines of dialogue. To anyone whom I might of pilfered some of your most precious "Favorite Quotes", I will formally thank you in my acceptance speech for "Best Original Screenplay", if I ever return to my script. And so you might guess, the yellow brick road ending in a little culdesac called, "My Friends Are Going to Kill Me if They Ever Read This-Ville". I might have delved a bit too deep into reality. So the script was laid aside and I jumped to my next medium- poetry.
"Poetry for Shoetry" are wise words once spoken by a more lymric-lipped friend, whom obviously is more apt at the haiku. I do have a talent for turning nursery-rhymes into kick-ass raps, but that is where my talent for the rhyme ends.
And so the detour route is da blog. And so fellow readers, I must introduce myself. My name is Ellen Leah Kohart, but you may call me Elle for short. I am an over-ripe piece of fruit in the the refridgerator of life called my parents' house. Yes, yes, I am a victim of the so-called "boomerang effect", a term that I first became aware of in my darling parentals' AARP magazine.
I am a hair stylist at a salon in a mall, you can usually find me there, giving the stink-eye to the old-man amputee and his side-kick who like to sit outside the salon and rate the perkiness of my fellow stylists' bums. I hate to think that that's all I am; a hairdresser at a Northwest Ohio mall, where my sole purpose is to serve as some old bastard's eye-candy. Yes, I consider myself eye-candy; deal with it.
I'm often asked how I like working at the mall. I respond with the same glazed-over look that the interviewer has as they prompt me with said question. "Yeah, I really like it. The girls are really nice there." This is all true. I really do like working at Regis. I really do like the girls I work with, a couple in particular. It's the whole working at a mall, and working in a corporate salon that are real ball-busters. It's very much like being a chef whom studied in the very best institutions in Paris and Milan, and ending up being employed at Applebees. It's very disheartening. Pretty much that's where I work, the Applebees of hair. We're much better than McDonald's or our greasy cousin White Castle. But we're just not up to the cut of Douglas J, or Ken Paves. We've got the talent. I am Aveda-trained goddamn it. But I digress.
Another aspect of my life that has something to do with hair is my deep love of make-up. It is not just an accessory that we chose to wear to cover up a lone zit in seventh grade. It is an art-form, one that will be the basis of many future blog postings.
A few more of my deep loves are as follows: anything to do with Judy Garland and her eldest offspring, musicals, the works of Bill Bryson, critiquing films-I don't just watch 'em, I bitch about 'em too. Hmmm, what else? Well, I already mentioned Weight Watchers, but I'm also a rather recent member of the veggie-tribe. Yes, I am a vegetarian, and so far so good!
And this is where I leave you now fellow reader. Please do not fret, I am brimming over with tons of shit to discuss but it is Law and Order SVU time, and Chris Meloni has that smoldering look, so I must take my leave...

Salut.