We are a band from Wisconsin, check us out.

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kirsty! said, (3 minutes ago)

you know what, guys? I FUCKING LOVE WILL SMITH. he is so down to earth and hilar, i love how he basically YELLED at everyone getting an award from him. he doesn’t give a FUCK about ‘oscar manners’, HE IS SO NICE

Celisse said, (2 minutes ago)

when i was really small i had an imaginary friend whose brother was will smith NO FUCKING JOKE

i was an only child shut the fuck up

I just read an article called “The Autumn of the Multitaskers” for my Social Communities and Virtual Media Class, and it scares me how much I can relate. The author of the article gets in a car crash because he’s texting with his girlfriend – which is obviously retarded, yet something I do all of the time when I’m at home in LA, because I get bored while I’m driving in the car, even if it’s only for ten minutes. I rarely walk to class without calling someone or looking something up on my cellphone. When I’m in class, I’m constantly checking my phone or looking at a billion different websites. I hate being this way – always so manic – and I’m trying to stop. I’ve started going to yoga, which helps, but only for a few hours. I get all these zen thoughts when I’m doing downward dogs etc, like “wow life is so short I should be vegetarian again and delete my facebook and explore the berkeley hills” (I’m serious, yoga makes me oddly zen) but then I come home and the peace and calm fades away and I turn on my computer. 

I guess yoga is a start. Reading also helps – I can still read a book for hours without wanting to stop and check my phone or my gmail. Obviously this only pertains to books I’m not reading for school, but I don’t really care. My REAL goal for this semester is not to be nicer to Cuervo, but to be less manic and less connected and find some semblance of inner peace (and seriously, you should talk to me in the hour or so after I come back from yoga, it’s pretty funny).

But in the meantime, read this article from the Atlantic, quoted below:

But on to the next inevitable contraction that everybody knows is coming, believes should have come a couple of years ago, and suspects can be postponed only if we pay no attention to the matter and stay very, very busy. I mean the end of the decade we may call the Roaring Zeros—these years of overleveraged, overextended, technology-driven, and finally unsustainable investment of our limited human energies in the dream of infinite connectivity. The overdoses, freak-outs, and collapses that converged in the late ’60s to wipe out the gains of the wide-eyed optimists who set out to “Be Here Now” but ended up making posters that read “Speed Kills” are finally coming for the wired utopians who strove to “Be Everywhere at Once” but lost a measure of innocence, or should have, when their manic credo convinced us we could fight two wars at the same time.

The Multitasking Crash.

The Attention-Deficit Recession.

- Katie

Here are a few things that went down on this rainy February Friday.

1. I took an hour nap with the cats on the bed when I had already had a thirteen-hour night’s sleep. I include the cat detail because the cats are not supposed to be allowed in the bedroom ’cause J is allergic. However, this wasn’t the first time in recent weeks, days.

2. For the billionth time in my life, a Starbucks barrista spelled my name on the cup “Christan” when I popped in to order a piping hot green tea latte. Okay, now you know my name… Kristen. Only in Cali have people chosen to spell it “Christan.”

3. Last night I had a dream that I was sleeping in a puddle. I woke to find a wet spot in the bed. I tapped J on the shoulder to demand how this could have happened. He said he was sweaty, so maybe the bed got a ‘lil wet. I know, I know, gross. Just the same, I accepted this explanation, and managed to drift off. Well, tonight, I collapsed onto the bed next to J and, lo, there was a gigantic wet spot AGAIN. It hadn’t been there when I had napped earlier in the day. I looked up at the ceiling. Sure enough, there was a leak. “Shit!” J and I exclaimed in unison. Now, instead of sleeping soundly next to my boyfriend, I am wide awake writing this post. Of course it was my side of the bed.

4. I like all Nicolas Cage movies, I’ve decided, officially and all. Tonight I watched “Bangkok Dangerous” and enjoyed it thoroughly.

5. Since it was pouring buckets, J and I decided to stay in and order Chinese. I had three helpings and could have had four.

6. I ordered an $8O Dr. Denese SPF 30 tinted facial lotion this evening, despite the fact that I promised myself to STOP ORDERING FROM QVC. What truly sold me were not only the before & after models, but also the ultraviolet fluorescent photos. It brought me back to high school, when I went under one of those buggers during “Skin Cancer Awareness Week.” The damage was bad enough then, so it made me panic & ask myself, “HOW MUCH DAMAGE IS THERE NOW???”

7. I embarked on a new book today, “Dewey.” Yup, the cat book. By the time I got to page 30, I had already cried 5 times. I shared this w/J when he got home, assuming he would find this amusing. Instead, he flashed me a concerned frown.

8. I didn’t hear from the place I interviewed with on Monday. My heart sunk a ‘lil.

9. I still don’t know for sure if I have a job with my former boss on a pilot that’s starting soon. I despise uncertainty.

10. A cricket has resided somewhere behind our fridge for the past 3 weeks. It never bothered me one bit. As a matter of fact, it reminded me of the time when I lived with a roommate who had a pet lizard and fed it crickets. I loved that roommate, (not as much as J, but still, she was awesome) and her cute ‘lil lizard. Sadly, the lizard fell ill, and the crickets began to eat it, but that’s a story for another rainy day. Getting back on track, although I took comfort in the cricket’s chirping, (I love nature, what can I say?) J wasn’t so fond of it. He tried killing it with a broom handle, blowing a fan under the fridge, and pounding on the fridge furiously, but it was all no use. The cricket was invincible. I secretly chuckled to myself, but J was mad. Tonight, J’s wish finally came true. While reading Dewey, I heard some pouncing. Sammy and Bette were up to something. Then, I realized that I hadn’t heard our pet cricket in a while. Next thing I knew, Bette was torturing a big tan colored cricket. She taunted it until she couldn’t take it anymore, and then proudly chomped it to bits. Sammy looked on in awe and in jealousy. I woke J up to inform him of the good news. “You let her eat it?” he proclaimed in disgust, “You could have just let it outside!” Yup, I thought to myself. Yup, the girl who didn’t want her boyfriend to kill the cricket had let BetteBoop eat it to death. I was proud of her even. Yup, and the boy who had tried everything to murder the little chirper was now upset that I had had the black heart to let Bette commit such an act. I know what you’re thinking. J and I are the perfect pair full of contradictions.

It’s official. I am bored to tears. I had my first interview on Monday and, really, I forgot how exhausting interviews can be at times, let alone how exhausting driving in L.A. can be at times. Seriously, I went from around December 2oth, 2008- February 3rd, 2009 without filling my gas tank. That’s what walking everywhere, and having no where to go will get ya. At least I’ve saved money on gas.

The interview went well, and a day later a former boss told me that she may have a production gig for me soon. See, there are things in the works… maybe. I.will.do.anythiiiing. All I want is to work and get out of my dreary apartment. My friend Bri suggested I paint a wall in my place, but I can’t fathom spending money I don’t have on that right now when I need to eat. Sure, J has been great and always pays when we go out to dinner, and gives me cash for groceries, but still. A few days ago I was counting the one dollar bills in my wallet, (there were about 3) and I held up one of the dollar bills and just stared at it for five minutes. I felt the need to share that with you guys. Yes, I’m broke, desperately need a job, and am GOING CRAZY.

At the present time it’s almost midnight, J is sleeping soundly in the next room, and I am watching a show on Animal Planet called “Cat People.” These people are even more nuts than they sound. Think the movie “Best in Show” times one million with cats in place of dogs. My biggest fear is becoming one of these folks. Oh, and there was something I did last weekend that I’ll fill all my millions of readers in on in my next post. This “thing” that I did even further illustrates my loony cat lady antics.  I know, the intrigue!

According to my iGoogle homepage it is currently 40 degrees (does anybody know the keyboard shortcut for the degree symbol?) outside right now. Um, that’s cold. Yes, you Midwesterners who live where it snows and gets much colder, it’s not that cold. But for warm blooded Californians like me, it might as well be freezing.

The cold and I are not friends. I hate the snow (though a recent trip to Truckee to visit family (where there was two feet of fresh powder over everything) wasn’t so bad). I hate being cold. Static electricity and dry skin are no fun. Don’t even get me started on the sleepiness. Last night I got home from work to a freezing (56 degree) house, turned the thermostat up to 62 and crawled under the covers until it was safe to get up and make dinner. Of course I fell asleep. An hour later, I was starving and wide awake. When Monkey called at 9:00 I was so chatty that she asked me if I had had coffee, no. Just a nap. Of course that meant that when I tried to go to bed at 10:30 I couldn’t sleep at all. And ended up watching Golden Girls reruns until 11:30. Damn you Sophia, why do you have to be so funny?

When the alarm goes off at 5:48 am the next morning, of course it is freezing cold again. I have the thermostat sent to kick on at 5:45 to 62. It is always blowing away when the alarm goes off but take a few minutes to actually blow out warm air. In the meantime, I reset the alarm for 6:15 and catch a few more winks. At 6:15 the extra sleep has done nothing but make it even harder to get up so I re-reset the alarm for 6:30, giving me 10 minutes to let the dog out, grab my toothbrush and start brushing while the dog is outside, feed the cats, let the dog in, grab lunch (last night’s leftovers) put it by my laptop bag next to the door, rinse, get dressed, run a comb through my hair, throw on a jacket and scarf, fight with the dog over whether or not he gets to come to work with me (not today) grab my stuff and get on the road to work, be in the office by 6:59.

I need a new job. One where I can work from home. Any ideas?

this morning i woke up in a panic at 6am. i felt like a kid again on the first day of school. but, i was not. today (for some DUMB) reason, we had to go back to work. because it makes sense to do that? work one day and then have a weekend off? no. but my job is silly sometimes. i made it to work by 8:15 and cleaned my desk. literally, scrubbed the thing. it was dusty and i wanted to start the year clean. minus that huge pile of work i’ll be going in to tackle over the weekend. oh, joy.

after work i went with a couple of girls to try on engagement rings. one of them is fairly close to getting engaged and she wanted to try on rings so she could drop some hints, like any girl would. we tried on rings and laughed and for the first time in awhile, i realized i have close girlfriends here in town. since the moves from fenway and southie, i broke some friendships. two of my best gals moved away so it has been awhile since i had someone to do dumb things like this with. so when the opportunity arrised, there we were. rushing through the doors of tiffanys. most hilarious experience ever. sad note? my dream ring, with the emerald cut diamond? looked AWFUL on my hand. (hi, can i be more of a bratty girl?) but since i’m single (awesome) i guess i have plenty of time to find a ring that is perfect for me. right? right. new dream? this in platinum. hello antique, lover.

what i should have done tonight is found a space heater for my room. the heat doesn’t make it down this end of the hall and i’m typing with 2 blankets on my legs and my hood on my sweatshirt up. my fingers are freezing! really brookline, i love you. but i need it to be spring. i need tulips and warmth. my friends found a cheap all inclusive hotel for the end of the month and my DUMB self doesn’t have an updated passport. i guess i’m still wishing it was 1997. but why would i need a passport? i don’t have money to travel like i’d like. maybe if i could get on that boyfriend bandwagon, they’d take me somewhere nice. right? haha. a girl can dream.

i’ve re-fallen in love with ray lamontagne in the past two days. i haven’t stopped listening to all three albums – SO GOOD. and she&him – look them up. it’s zoey deschanel and m.ward. i’m in love with their album.and maybe the second lifehouse album. it’s so 2003 when i was flying to california to see about a boy (hence the not listening to it since 2005 – new years. ugh.) but i forgot how good it is. maybe i should stop being so sad with the tunes. hm. in other music news, my favorite r.star (now ryan star) is coming to allston in 2 weeks. $10 tickets! so excited! he’s pretty damn dreamy.

in other news, i have zero plans and about a million things to do this weekend. i need to go into work. grocery shop. clean my closet. clean my room. take down the tree/find a place to store the tree. but really, i just want to go see my family. they’re moving the rest of the stuff from my sister’s house (she moved home, looooong dramatic story) and i feel like i should be there. but i don’t know if i have it in me. mehhh.

hope you all have lovely weekends and enjoy it when the weather gets above 5 degrees, for you bostonians! xo

Hello there lovely blog readers! Again let me reassure you that I’m not dead, just busy and lazy. Maybe the new year will trigger an upswing in my posting frequency?

The last couple of days at work have been dead. Yesterday, I got all caught up on Chuck thanks to Fancast today I’m thinking I’ll have an Ugly Betty marathon. I know you hate me right now.

Coming sometime in the next 12 hours will be a new podcast over on Cate & Tobie. The lovely and amazing Cate did all of the hard work this week editing it for you and will be posting it when she wakes up. I think you’ll like it, we changed up the format a little let us know what you think.

In two days it will be Christmas! One of my favorite times of the year.

I got to pick where my Dad/Boss is taking us for lunch tomorrow. Yay! I chose BJ’s. Can’t wait, its going to be so yummy. Though I may skip lunch and head right for dessert. Pizzookie… yum!

I’m getting a Wii for Christmas! At least I’m pretty sure I’m getting a Wii. Like 99.9% sure I’m getting a Wii. I’m so excited!

It’s been super rainy the last few days. My front tires are ridiculously bald and driving  on them is giving me an ulcer. I’m waiting until after the holidays to ask my dad to replace them (I never have any money). In the meantime I’m slowing down and avoiding slamming on the brakes. Oh, and praying, lots and lots of praying.

Awesome. Dad and Brother are arguing right behind me. The shiny new bazillion dollar machine we got last week is having fits and not working properly. So maybe bazillion isn’t actually a real amount but it was expensive, far too expensive to be having this many problems right out of the box.

OK, signing off now. I can feel the sugar crash coming on, must prepare myself for the landing.

About ten minutes after the last post I ran across this blog post. Which then necessitated the stoppage of anything other than spending the next hour and a half making paper roses so I can add them to my office decor.

I may need professional help.

P.S. They look much better in person, my cell phone doesn’t take very good pictures.

Picture this:

Friday night around 6:00, after a full day of color schemes floating through my head I make a break for the paint section. An hour later I’ve spent all (an then some) of my weekly food budget on two gallons of paint, a plastic drop cloth, rollers and a couple new paint brushes.

Of course as soon as I got home I unloaded all my loot and broke into the first gallon. Luckily, I still had the handle extender for the paint roller so I began to paint the ceiling and top 1/4 of te walls in the not quite white color I’d picked to complement the dusky lavender. Did I mention that I’m having a party next weekend? AND the new roommate move in next weekend? AND the house is a mess? OR that I’m so completely out of money that I’m considering selling blood? OK, maybe not that as I completely detest needles. But I’m getting a bit desperate.

And I thought June was an expensive month.

Pics to come!

It is hot.

According to Yahoo! weather it is 92 degrees (I can’t find the degree symbol on my laptop. Do you know where it is?) outside right now and as I sit in my office with the door open to the outside for light, a fan aimed at my legs and the wall unit air conditioner I’ve got set on low pumping in slightly cooler (if oil scented) air from the shop, it feels only about ten degrees cooler in here.

So, yeah. I’ve not felt like doing much of anything. Even blogging takes energy (not that you’d think so reading some of my latest posts – bad-um-bum!) that I need just to remain upright at my desk halfheartedly pretending that I’m not really reading a novel or watching classic movies (I love you Netflix, will you marry me?) on the computer.

I’ll probably have to turn the A/C to cool in a little bit as my legs are beginning to stick to the leather of my desk chair.

Back to the heat. My house is a mess. I get home from work, change into my swim suit and get directly in the pool. Sadly, I get bored pretty quickly swimming alone so I usually drip dry while watering my poor wilty tomatoes and squash before heading in to lay prostrate on the couch falling into an exhausted nap. I’ll typically wake up an hour or so later starving and ready for another round of swimming. Depending on what I have readily available dinner is usually a bowl of cereal or ice cream. Who wants to actually eat real food when it is this hot. Also one has to have food in order to cook it and my cupboards and refrigerator are almost embarassingly bare right now. Two consecutive months of $200+ electric bills will really put a dent in an already tight – to the point of cutting off circulation then tightening some more – budget.

Did I mention that I thought it would be a good idea to move Buster in permanently? Still no dog run. I just love him so much and have found myself scouring Craigslist for free puppies. Because why? Oh yes, I’m INSANE! I figured it would be a good idea to actually try living with my dog before getting another. I know I’m brilliant.

I picked him up from the ‘rent’s house yesterday (after leaving work an hour early) and while I was liberating a six pack (actually only four because I didn’t want to be greedy) and looking for his leash I forgot to get any of his food. I didn’t think it would be a big deal as he had a bowl full at my place from the last time he stayed over. I didn’t take into account that he might eat every bit of it as soon as we got home. Crap. It was too late for me to run to the store because I was expecting people over to swim (Treble, GrumpyBear & Fam, and Treble’s cousins (who I’ve decided will be my new friends as they live in this town and I like them)) any minute. Luckily, I had hamburger defrosting for the spaghetti I had planned on making for everyone that didn’t get made because GrumpyBear thought she owed me dinner and her husband really wanted pizza so we ordered pizza, so I was able to throw in some rice with the browning hamburger and whip up some home made dog food. I think he’ll have enough to last until I can get him food on the way home from bible study tonight.

Oh my after rereading that paragraph I think I’ll go now. Apparently, the heat also make me wordy and a little bit stupid.

Enjoy!

* Taking a page from the Kitty’s Book of Spelling.

I’m sort of big on planning. I like the security of knowing what is going to happen and being able to prepare for unexpected eventualities.

This week I’ve been on planning over load. There is so much to do in so little time. I spent twenty minutes this morning inputting any and all destinations into my little GPS device so that when my cousin or aunt are left driving themselves to the various events they won’t have to worry about looking things up. Which reminds me, I should input my parent’s address since they may need to help ferry all the relatives over to the wedding.

Monkey, I can hear you now. Asking me the pointed questions that make me realize that the world will not come screeching to a halt because I cannot personally oversee something. I’ve also come to the realization, that I sort of thrive on the manic rush of NOT being in control and then gaining control.

I suspect I have issues.

I couldn’t sleep last night even though I was exhausted. My mind kept thinking about the clean laundry that was still piled on the guest bed, the kitchen floor that needed mopping, the guest bathroom that needed a bit of scrubbing… the list went on.

I’ll have roughly 5 hours after work before my dad and I have to leave for the airport. Plenty of time to get my chores done. I’ve even crossed off the non essential chores, like get my car washed, because no one will care that my car is a little dusty. The inside is still clean and dirt free from the car wash I got two weeks ago.

Then we have the excitement factor of seeing my family. I just love them all. Great Aunt Mildred and Great Uncle Kurt (in their 70s, maybe even 80s) three of my dad’s four sisters, one uncle, two cousins and one cousin’s son are all flying in from Missouri for the festivities. For one of my aunts this will be her first time on an airplane, several of them have never been to California before. I think it has been over six years since my brother has seen any of them. I really hope he appreciates them coming.

OK, Tobie, STOP!

Just take a few deep breaths and stop. I am not in charge and that is OK. I may have to write this on my wrist to keep reminding myself.

I love First for Women Magazine. I can’t help but grab a copy when I’m standing at the checkout line. With headlines like, “Drop 45 LBS By July 4th” and “Happy Energy Every Day” how can I resist?

I’ve always known that a person is supposed to drink a lot of water through out the day and I though I do like water, I know I don’t drink the 8 glasses a day everyone should try to do. I think it meant 8, 8 oz. glasses a day so 64 oz of water. That is the equivalent of half a gallon or 5 1/3 soda cans of water. That’s a lot of water.

Back to First Magazine (sorry for the lame link, it seems First doesn’t have a website. How is that even possible?) I picked up the latest issue two nights ago and started flipping through it yesterday at work. I didn’t get very far in when I came to an article titled, “The tiredness cure so simple, it’s shocking!” First magazine, are you spying on me? I’ve been exhausted lately. I hit snooze until I have only 20 minutes left to get ready for work every morning. I slog through my day tempted to try and nap at my desk. I get home from work and crash out on the couch or bed and am asleep (a deep sleep) in minutes only to wake up hours later groggy and even more tired, with the added stress of feeling like a lazy bum because I didn’t get any of my chores done and now it’s dinner time to be followed shortly by bed time. In the morning the cycle repeats itself.

According to the article, I may be dehydrated. the formula is this: Divide your weight by two, the resulting number is the number of ounces of water you should be drinking a day. I guess if you weigh around 128 lbs. 64 oz would be your number.

Who wants to join me on my endeavor? I’m going to look into things a bit to make sure I don’t OD on H20 and mess up my electrolytes but so far today I’ve had 47 oz. and I’ve only had to make 4 trips to the restroom. That’s about once an hour. Not too bad, as long as my dad doesn’t send me to Sacramento or the East Bay.

I can’t wait to see how my skin reacts to all of this water! It’s supposed to be very good for it. I’ve been extra nice to my skin lately. I’m in my 30s now. I don’t have any wrinkles yet, but I can see where my laugh lines are just waiting to settle in. I’ve been religiously using my Vitamin C skincare products and slathering on the anti-aging, sun damage reversing sunblock every morning. It has only been a couple of days but I swear my skin feels soft and dewy.

Another 10 oz. down. Awesome!

Excuse me, I’ve got to take a powder.

ETA: Coffee does not count as water. Caffeine is a diuretic. Basically, coffee is the anti-water. Unless you drink decaf, and really what’s the point of that?

::Warning::

Turns out that drinking too much water can KILL you. I seem to remember this happening on an old episode of ER. So um, remember I am NOT a doctor. In fact, anything I say should be taken with a ton of skepticism and your own research.

I’m jumping back into church life. It has been quite a while since I felt ready to give it another try and the people who hurt me so much that I stopped going, are still there. After three years of church hopping and never finding one that felt right I went back, and it was awesome. Sort of.

As I said, the people I ran away from still attend, but I can’t let lame-o people keep me from doing what I know I’m supposed to be doing. Tonight was preview night for one of the summer studies. The book we’re doing is one Teach came across months ago that we had planned on reading together, but the holidays and life got in the way. We never even bought the book.

I’d been getting emails from the small group leader for a couple of months and even planned on attending a few of the studies, but I saw a familiar name in the mix of addresses and chickened out. Then I got the email about the book for the summer and I figured the Big Guy may be trying to tell me something like, “Get back to church, you big wuss!”

Teach couldn’t come with me tonight because she was too busy finishing up her grading for the last day of school tomorrow. She assigned me a solo mission, reconnoiter the meeting and make sure a certain someone wasn’t going to be there. She’d had her own encounter with the same individual and wasn’t eager to  commit to spending her summer with someone she couldn’t stand.

On the way to the house where the meeting was taking place I started freaking out. My heart was beating so fast I could hear it in my ears, a vein above my left eye was throbbing and I actually worried that I was going to have a full-on panic attack in the car. I managed to contain the madness by reminding myself that it was only going to last a few hours and I just might have fun. I knew the girl whose house I was going too. In a weird tangle of acquaintances, we’ve been bumping into each other since our freshman year of college (12 years, holy crap, I’m old!) and I’ve always been struck by how awesome she seemed. So there was that draw.

Fast forward to now. I survived! I didn’t know a single person there aside from the hostess and everyone was super nice. There were even a couple of bloggers, and a couple of soon-to-be bloggers. It will be interesting to have people I can talk to about blogging. When I get together with the Blog-Girls we have way too many more important things to talk about than what actually brought us together in the first place.

I almost didn’t admit to being a blogger. I’m certain I’m not the first person to say this, but meeting people through blogs is fun, letting friends who already know and love you read your blog is fun, but inviting people you plan on seeing on a regular basis to peek into your mind and see just how crazy you are is a little bit scary.

Hello, bible study peeps. I’m strange, welcome to my blog.

P.S. I traded in my puppy obsession for volunteering at a different animal shelter that actually has hours I can fit into my schedule. I start tomorrow and I CAN’T WAIT to get my hands on all of the kitties and puppies!

I’m obsessed again. A couple of months ago, my obsession was chocolate chip pancakes, after a lifetime of hating pancakes I suddenly had to have them for dinner every night for two weeks. A couple of weeks ago, I couldn’t stop baking banana nut bread and eating beet salad. I think I went through five pounds of flour in a week and a half. Don’t even ask me how many cans of beets.

For the last three days all I can think about are dogs. Buster needs a playmate! Buster doesn’t even live with me full-time yet, but I’m so worried about his mental health, that I actually went and looked at some puppies Monday after work. It’s all McGee’s fault. She had to go and get the world’s cutest puppy and now I must have one!

I can’t really pin the blame on McGee though. I have a terrible suspicion that the majority of my puppy obsession stems from the weekend of baby-lovin’. I spent most of Saturday with Jillicious and her handsome little Dexter. A cuter, more well behaved little guy would be hard to find. I got to feed him, and love on him and just marvel at the awesomeness of babies all day! I went home wanting one. Until I remembered that I didn’t have to change a diaper at all. The wanting faded to a nice pleasant memory.

On Sunday, my mom and I went to visit Grumpy Bear and the now gigantic Francesca. She turned six weeks old yesterday and she already looks so much bigger than the last time I saw her, the day after she was born. She’s got all this black hair that sticks up on the top of her head like a crazy mohawk-mullet. I held her for a while and I swear she smiled at me! I swear my uterus started aching, just to remind me it was there, I’m sure. Not long after I handed Frankie over to my mom for some cuddles, she needed a diaper change.

My roiling stomach then bitch-slapped my uterus and that was the end of the baby wanting for the time being.

But puppies don’t wear diapers!

Someday, someday. I’m constantly telling myself that, yes, I will have a big, droopy-eyed, long-eared, 1 part chubby & three millions times sweet badass basset hound someday. I can’t help it! I grew up with these adorable thangs. Seeing Sadie, (Aka, Sadiepants) my parents’ aging basset, a few times a year is.just.not.enough! I want my own basset to shower with love and to spoil rotten. It would have to be a girl. I would love to adopt her, (as I did with kitty Bette Boop) and I would love to take her for walks, pet her & talk to her in my doggy voice, and I would love for her name to be Mona. She’d also be BFF’s with Bette Boop.

I’ll pour my heart out more tomorrow about this subject. Oh, and because I’m in the mood to speak in French (en francais)…. AU REVOIR!

No, I’m not talking about the ‘ole back in the day MTV reality show. I’m talking about today, on stage, at work, in the crafts service area. On most days, my office orders lunch out with the writers. However, on certain days, my boss instructs the production team to go down to the stage & eat the crafts service lunch.

Now I’ve worked on numerous shows & every show has their own drill. Most shows I’ve been on in the past are used to the concept of sometimes production being able to eat on the stage, and, as such, the crafts service person is supposed to order more lunch for the days when production will be eating on stage. It’s all about the word inclusion. Try saying it to yourself a few times before you go to sleep tonight, Crafty on My Show. Oh, yeah, and did I not mention that said crafty has worked on another show that I worked on in the past (canceled, of course) and even the WRITERS ate on stage?!?!? He still hasn’t learned this pretty friggin’ 3rd grade level concept. Ahem!

So today I had to go down to stage after the production lot meeting. Side note: I used to kinda loathe these meetings, but now I heart them thanks to my winning streak at the trivia that starts off every meeting. But I digress… Once I’m done doing my thing on stage, (that “thing” being giving the stage PA vouchers for tomorrow) I saunter over to the crafts service area to check out the crappy food I’ve been ordered to eat on the stage today. Shall we pause this clip for a second? I.am.not.even.eating.a.thing.I.am.glancing.over.everything.not.one.bit.impressed.with.the.presentation.of.shit WHEN…

Camera dude that I don’t even know the name of begins dissing me. “You guys from production and the writers office always take all of our food on stage,” WAH WAH WAH! “You guys have to stop taking all of our food!” WAH WAH WAH. He says this very loudly, in front of a group of people. All eyes turn to me, Fatty Korlina (or at least that IS how it made me feel at the time). I turn bright red, beyond embarrassed. If Ramona had been in my shoes during this awkward “scene” she would have laughed at everyone and demanded, “Got a problem?!?!?” Korlina stutters, “Well, I…I…I… never eat on stage and was told to do so today.”

Crafty got all “Ohhh, do you have a sunburn, Honey?” I reply, “No, you guys have just really embarrassed me. I haven’t even taken any food.” Then crafty mock-yells at camera dude for making me feel bad. He demands that I take the food since everyone else has eaten. I feel like spitting out the words, “Fuck you for not sticking up for me! Fuck you for making me feel 100 times more awkward now! Fuck you for not remembering the million and one times I went out of my way for something for you on this show, and now you’re helping to make me feel like shit! Fuck you for acting like I should only be able to eat once everyone else has. Fuck you for being just another person who uses me as the easy target that I am!” Instead, I grabbed tongs, placed 2 watermelons in a paper bowl, and got outta there.

I immediately tossed the lousy watermelons into a trash barrell outside of stage.

For reasons I cannot fully articulate, this whole incident made me feel (at the time) more lousy than I know I should have let it make me feel. I pass a writer going down the hall on my way back to my office. He says hi in a genuinely nice way. I say my hellos as well. Afterwards, I want to cry. I have to go into my boss’s empty office to get a hold of myself, to stop the nascent onflow of tears.

Luckily, I snap out of my craziness pretty fast. I just needed a moment. I know that. I know I can pick up from where I left off in my day if only I take a few deep breaths and find a space where I can temporarily be alone in my thoughts. I only wish, at times (too many times in my life) that the awkwardness that’s a part of me would go away and never return. If it simply can’t & I’m stuck with it the way one is stuck with their freckles, then I wish I could get a grip. Once again, I wish I could handle situations like Ramona, only with more class.

You guys won’t believe what happened this morning! Omigawd, I saw my future in this town flash before my eyes. I blame it on the fact that I overslept this morning and, thus, couldn’t get Starbucks on my way into work. Okay, FINE, I’ll blame it on my own craziness.

Shall we cut to my “incident” this morning? Good! Well, it all began as innocently as any crisis begins. Brian, the showrunner’s assistant, waltzed into my office (yes, he waltzes) with none other than little Leo the cocker spaniel. Leo doesn’t only happen to be cute, but he also happens to be the showrunner’s dog. I enthusiastically told Brian that I’d watch him like a hawk during the table read, since I’d be bound to my desk. Hello, Korlina loves dogs!

All was going swimmingly until the phone calls poured in. A guest actress who plays a fortysomething in the script this week (we later learned that she is 75 in real life, which explains like, a lot) was MIA. Everyone was in a state of panic. The casting associate, the 2nd AD, the stage PA… basically everyone and their mother who works on this show was up in arms. One of our PAs was out in the golf cart, aimlessly searching for this woman (sans cell phone, ahem) and, according to the lot’s security records, this guest actress had arrived through the gate (so she was here, somewhere).

 Nevertheless, they couldn’t start the table read without this woman. “KORLINA, DO SOMETHING!” an unnamed person spit into the phone. Desperate for a [crappy] solution, I sent another PA on foot (there were no spare golf carts) to find the woman. Finally, PA on foot found her. Yeah, she’s senile and, yeah she got herself lost on the lot as she spaced out, reminiscing about “the good ‘ole Fox studio days,” and about how “so much had changed!” That also explained why D, the PA who found her, was scratching his head all confused-like when he returned to the office and, exclaimed, ”That lady was nuts!”

Somewhere between a call from the casting associate (he’s my favorite… NOT) & a call from the 2nd AD, little shy Leo who had been so docile, flew from my office. My grasp on his leash must have loosened with all the “missing actress! omigod!” stress. Next thing I knew, Leo was out of sight. Everyone in the office was freaking out, which meant I.was.REALLY.freaking out!

I threw open the front door to our building, scanning in every which direction for Leo and, NOTHING! A wardrobe girl, who had witnessed the whole thing, declared matter-of-factly, “He got outside. He’s lost.” Thoughts of being fired, thoughts of being blacklisted from this lot, and thoughts of being sued whirled through my head. Additionally, thoughts of valuum.

Luckily, I was snapped back into reality when K, another PA, ran towards me & calmly informed me that Janet from accounting had found Leo at the front door. Thanks, Wardrobe Girl, for dramatically declaring that Leo was out on the loose and, in essence, being consumed by mountain lions.

Of course, I was relieved when I saw Leo in Janet’s arms. She was all squeals and “Leo, you’re such a troublemaker!” Although I was relieved, I wanted to shout, “Leo, you’re an asshole,” but somehow, I found the strength to keep it to myself.

At 11:30 am I had my daily production meeting. The best way to describe these meetings is to say it’s kind of like a gathering of the Village People sans “YMCA.” You have your fire safety officer, you have your security guards, you have the electric guy, you have the woman from the grip department who swears by all that is L.L. Bean, you have your air conditioning dude, you have your medic, and then you have all the people who represent their shows on the lot. In other words, everyone looks the part, and fortunate me gets to attend these meetings daily & represent our show. We all go around in a circle, after a trivia game, (I’m serious) and tell each other what our show’s plans are for the following day. Yeah, it’s fun.

On a usual day, I find these meetings rather pointless and boring. I get a slight kick out of the meetings if and when I win at the trivia game (which has been a rare occurrence as of late). The prize today wasn’t that great anyway since it was a mini Sports Illustrated calendar. However, the security guy who won it loved it! Fine, I’ll press the “off” button on this tangent right now and get to my point. Today, TODAY, I LOVED the meeting. I had this crazy person look on my face the whole time. You know, crazy smile, and eyes kinda like Tom Cruise (k, not THAT crazy). I participated in all the American Idol chit chat and recap. I laughed at every one of L.L. Bean Grip Girl’s lame jokes. Why?? Because I wasn’t gonna be banned from the lot! I wasn’t gonna be fired! Leo was safe! I had seen darkness (& Mountain Lions) and now I saw light! Thus, most outstanding lot production meeting… EVER!

I later told my boss about what had happended with Leo, mainly out of fear that word would eventually get to her about the damn dog anyway. Her eyes grew wide like saucers, and her skin turned a ghostly color. “Korlina, if anything had happened to that dog, you would have had to change your name & flee this town,” she whispered, about to lose her lunch over my story. 

Folks, welcome to my world. Welcome to Hollywood. Hey, but I’ll look on the bright side. At least tonight is Girls’ Poker Night where I will be getting very drunk in an attempt to fade out the memory of the day I almost lost my job & almost had to leave town (on a submarine).

Moments ago, I stood in the writers food kitchen & wolfed down chocolate covered orange thingys from Trader Joes. I spaced out for what may have turned into 5 whole minutes, just stuffing my face, not a care in the world and, for once not counting the number of chocolate diet destroyers I was consuming. That was until a horde of writers swarmed past me, and a few shot me questionable glances. Yup, just the weird girl from the production office who typically stays out of our way, (which we love!) but today she must have lost it. Did you see what she was eating? Gross! Only we writers are allowed to eat that way!

I’m not knocking the writers per se. In fact, one writer (my favorite one! he actually acknowledges us production people! i know! i’m blown away too!) is treating my office to Coffee Bean today. Anyway, the only person I’m knocking here is myself. Here’s the girl, here’s the Korlina, who last week was all “must.start.diet.NOW!” who finds herself scarfing down chocolate rather shamelessly. Ugh, so out of character! I’m usually overly aware of my surroundings & who or what routinely lurks around the corner. For whatever reason, today I wasn’t myself. Today I forgot my cardinal rule of not being a pig openly, ever. 

Last night I wasn’t myself either. Nobody likes laundry, but I almost had a panic attack over it. There was just so much! Oh, and the pudgy girl in my apartment bldg, the one who no one cares much for because of her lousy “hate the world” attitude, was hogging one of the washers. If J hadn’t been around to calm me down, I would have been SO done. If anyone had witnessed the way I was on the verge of meltdown, they would have thought I had just been diagnosed with some rare disease. Nope, just laundry folks! Come back next week and I’ll probably be in panic mode over not having enough butter in the fridge to use for mac and cheese!

My stress must stem from some other unknown source. Perhaps I’m repressing what’s really bothering me. Oh, that’s right, the finances. Yeah, perhaps it’s the finances. Perhaps it’s because I’ll be working later than usual this week, which means no time for the gym. I swear I was getting back on track too!

I better go. Some Staples supplies just came in (for realz) and I must must must deliver them to the proper persons in this office. Did I mention some of my tasks at this job drive my crazy? I can’t wait to be snuggled in bed tonight, dreaming of Aruba. Dreaming of not having to pass out Staples supplies. In the meantime, I’ll continue being so done with this day and, I’ll savor the Coffee Bean that just arrived (as I pass out supplies).

Friday, oh Friday. I should be all smiles as I type at my desk. I should be anticipating the weekend, only hours away. Instead, I sip coffee (it’s delicious, whoever made it in my office) & fight the urge to tear up because crying at work, well, just sucks.

Moments ago, I stumbled upon a basset hound blog, thanks to good ‘ole Google! Immediately, I added this cute blog to my blogroll. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but I ADORE basset hounds. I grew up with them & became a fast basset lover. Who really can resist their long droopy faces, the ears that they trip over repeatedly, or the way in which they love EVERYONE they come across? (warning: don’t invest in a cute basset pup with the thought in the back of your minds that it will grow to be one hardcore watch dog. not.going.to.happen).

When the first family basset, Millie, died, everyone (especially my mom) was devestated. I was a junior in high school. I recall being obsessed with the Sarah Brightman CD, “Time to Say Goodbye,” at the time. Whenever I would play a track my eyes would swell and, of course, I’d remember Millie. I can honestly say, after encountering countless dogs during my lifetime, that she was the sweetest thing in the world. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. My mom used to say that Millie was a “hippy basset” because all she wanted to do was love and be pet. We had to put her down because she was suffering from cancerous mass cell tumors. She suddenly wasn’t interested in food. This was a HUGE red flag ’cause bassets (especially pleasantly plump Millie) heart food! Running out of ideas, I set a single green bean in front of Millie one evening after supper. I was hoping she’d eat it and that the green bean would miraculously cure her because it was a veggie. I was either extremely stupid or extremely delusional. Perhaps both.

 ’Lil Sis, since she’s the brave one, carried Millie to the car on the day we’d all have to say farewell for good. The next basset was Sadie (otherwise known as SadiePants & still going strong at 9 years old). She is nothing like Millie. As a matter of fact, she’s kind of evil. Thankfully, we all love her anyway (she’s lucky she’s so darn cutesy cute).

So anyway, when I discovered Basset Blog and, found a story about losing a basset hound, (a story I can relate to) I wanted to crawl under my desk and sob. What’s wrong with me? I’m not even PMSing!

Maybe THIS is my true, deep rooted crazy Korlina problem that makes me depressed on this Friday at work… 

On the way out the door this morning, I lamented to J that I didn’t feel great about myself (my body and, thus, myself to an extent). I’ve probably gained about 10 lbs from the weight I was at last year. I know I can get a handle over it if I just work out more, but I dunno… it has just been so damn hard lately. Oh, and the days where I try to limit my calorie intake, I feel lethargic, mopey, irritable, and mad at the universe. I swear, I don’t know which is unhealthier, being a bit overweight now or being insanely stressed to the bone. I was 10 friggin sexy pounds lighter when I was a stressed out wacko. I was too busy to think about food. I know, shocking!

J, being J, told me that I still look great and, that yes, I will get back on track. The past weekend trip to Vegas where I ate myself silly probably didn’t help in my current state of ”Oh, whoa is me, I’m fat” this week.

Being a girl and having body image issues is no fun. I’m not always like this. I’ve been confident in my body plenty of times during my life. I’m just going through a phase. I suddenly really care. I care the moment my jeans start not fitting and, the moment when doing cardio at the gym feels hellish.

Once the weight commences to drop, my ego will get the boost it desperately desires. In the meantime, I’ll ignore (yeahhhh right) the guy in my office eating the chocolate cookie ice cream sandwich at the moment.