I have been asked to do a recap of the months missing from the blog. I assure you, it's really not that interesting. I am however working on it and should have one in a few days. However, just to clear the record, I didn't leave because of negative comments. Love me, hate me, think I suck at life, whatever, I can take it. The issue became the fact that someone used this blog and tried to ruin me. This person read the blog from beginning to end 3 times (thanks site tracker!) and pulled details. They used these details to in essence, fuck with my head, ruin my relationship and destroy me. Ergo, I stopped blogging. It was really hard but at the time it was the right decision for me. I am still hesitant to write and am basically just putting my big toe back in the water, testing things out.
The only reason I am back is this blog was mine. I loved it, still do. I loved the exercise of writing, the community of people here and making people laugh. Taking it down not only took away my outlet, but it gave her the power. If this person resurfaces I will deal with the ramifications, perhaps change who can add comments. I am not sure at this point. I am calling it the grand experiment, and thus far, I like it. Wish me luck.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
13 Going On...87
I am the first to admit I am a little weird. Perfect example is this week. Monday I went with a friend while she got some amazing tattoos, yesterday I went to a Christina Aguilera concert and today, today I took a cake decorating class.
The Christina concert was amazing. It's a given the girl can sing and that the theatrics were fantastic, but what made the concert was the section I was seated in. I have a knack of getting tickets in the most eclectic section humanly possible. Look for the section that looks somehow off, and I will be there dead center. So last night it was my friend and I, behind us were a 45 year old couple and in front of us were two men. The two men however, were very very straight. It was something of a head scratcher. I can't imagine a male friend of mine calling up his BFF and demanding they get expensive seats to see Xtina. I developed a theory that it was A) a dare or B) one of the dudes had broken up with his girlfriend and when she asked for the tickets he decided to stick it to her and screamed out, fuck you, I'm taking Steve! Poor Steve was obviously miserable. He was on his Blackberry most of the night, which isn't uncommmon in LA, but generally not in a 150 dollar concert seat. He did occassionally glance up and give a weak smile while the Pussycat Dolls performed but that was it. Side note, I want to have a serious sit down conversation with who ever makes their costumes. Really was 2 dollar hooker with a odd horse tail sown on ass the only original look they could come up with? Horrible. But I digress.
The couple behind us, on first glance, looked like parents who had accompanied their pre teen daughters to the show. That glance would be wrong. They were on a date, he knew every word to Genie in a Bottle which he sung loudly, and this fact? It turned her on. I know this because every time I turned my head I had to watch one of them feel the other up. I tried not to turn my head often. The dissappeared roughly half way through the show to "walk around the compound". They never returned. It is my theory they got caught somewhere doing very inappropriate things and not only scared some 13 year old who found them, but were escorted out. It was a night full of theories and I like 'em.
Tonight was my first cake decorating class. I somehow always find classes that are again, somehow off. Tonight was shockingly no different. After making the trek to Burbank I sat at the table with a bunch of other 20 something women and one married couple. I felt bad for the dude who would clearly rather be individually plucking out his eyelashes than be there, he looked pained. Who knew so many 20 year old women wanted to learn fancy cake techniques? I thought it would be me and a bus from the senior center. The best part was the instructor. She explained to us that her sister usually teaches the class but had been called away to volunteer with the Red Cross. She had never taught this class before. For an hour I watched her mutter into a bowl of frosting. She iced a cake and then served it to us. No fancy techniques. Just you know, put frosting on cake, smooth....ta da. The 2 hour class was thankfully cut down to just 45 minutes. It did however feel like 2 hours and that's what counts. Next week apparently we will actually learn something about cake decorating. The purpose of tonight's class is beyond me. On the plus side I am remarkably full of cake. Yay for cake.
The Christina concert was amazing. It's a given the girl can sing and that the theatrics were fantastic, but what made the concert was the section I was seated in. I have a knack of getting tickets in the most eclectic section humanly possible. Look for the section that looks somehow off, and I will be there dead center. So last night it was my friend and I, behind us were a 45 year old couple and in front of us were two men. The two men however, were very very straight. It was something of a head scratcher. I can't imagine a male friend of mine calling up his BFF and demanding they get expensive seats to see Xtina. I developed a theory that it was A) a dare or B) one of the dudes had broken up with his girlfriend and when she asked for the tickets he decided to stick it to her and screamed out, fuck you, I'm taking Steve! Poor Steve was obviously miserable. He was on his Blackberry most of the night, which isn't uncommmon in LA, but generally not in a 150 dollar concert seat. He did occassionally glance up and give a weak smile while the Pussycat Dolls performed but that was it. Side note, I want to have a serious sit down conversation with who ever makes their costumes. Really was 2 dollar hooker with a odd horse tail sown on ass the only original look they could come up with? Horrible. But I digress.
The couple behind us, on first glance, looked like parents who had accompanied their pre teen daughters to the show. That glance would be wrong. They were on a date, he knew every word to Genie in a Bottle which he sung loudly, and this fact? It turned her on. I know this because every time I turned my head I had to watch one of them feel the other up. I tried not to turn my head often. The dissappeared roughly half way through the show to "walk around the compound". They never returned. It is my theory they got caught somewhere doing very inappropriate things and not only scared some 13 year old who found them, but were escorted out. It was a night full of theories and I like 'em.
Tonight was my first cake decorating class. I somehow always find classes that are again, somehow off. Tonight was shockingly no different. After making the trek to Burbank I sat at the table with a bunch of other 20 something women and one married couple. I felt bad for the dude who would clearly rather be individually plucking out his eyelashes than be there, he looked pained. Who knew so many 20 year old women wanted to learn fancy cake techniques? I thought it would be me and a bus from the senior center. The best part was the instructor. She explained to us that her sister usually teaches the class but had been called away to volunteer with the Red Cross. She had never taught this class before. For an hour I watched her mutter into a bowl of frosting. She iced a cake and then served it to us. No fancy techniques. Just you know, put frosting on cake, smooth....ta da. The 2 hour class was thankfully cut down to just 45 minutes. It did however feel like 2 hours and that's what counts. Next week apparently we will actually learn something about cake decorating. The purpose of tonight's class is beyond me. On the plus side I am remarkably full of cake. Yay for cake.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Red, Red Wine
As much time as I spend hating LA, I also begrudgingly love it. It's something of an unhealthy relationship, but for now it works for me. This weekend was an excellent mixture of the two.
Saturday I picked up a friend who is in town and we hit the road to go down to Venice. By hit the road I of course mean sat parked on the 101 for 30 minutes. Parked. If I thought peeling off my own skin and running through the streets would help speed traffic up, hand to god, I would have done it. My friend sat beside me, open mouthed and shocked. She finally whispered "Is it always like this?" and I nodded, a tear in my eye and said, yes. Finally traffic moved and we were able to get up to a respectable 20 mph. An hour later we had driven the 15 miles and arrived at the beach. It was gorgeous. We went to one of my favorite restaurants, C & O Trattoria. The reason it's my favorite isn't because the food is all that good, it's because the atmosphere is great and they have free, unlimited garlic knots. And for those who know me I would go to the ends of the earth for bread, especially bread topped with garlic. We had a long and wonderful lunch, lots of wine, pasta and easily 19 lbs of garlic knots. Those are the best kind of lunches, hours spent with a good glass of wine and good conversation. It just feels decedant. Food comas set in and we took a walk down the pier and just stared at the water for awhile.
Later that night I met another friend to go to a photography exibition and meet her new boy. Ah, young love. The show was smaller than we expected so we were mostly standing around and decided we were starving. We hopped in our cars and went to fantastic tapas place. Since the restaurant is located in LA, and every restaurant here is a fusion, this was American tapas. The best one? Mac and cheese in a parmesean cup. Lots of wine and lots and lots of cheese. More cheese than I have ever consummed in one sitting which is quite possibly a new Guinness book record. I think today I am composed entirely of dairy. It's attractive, I assure you.
The best part of the evening actually happened when I was stuck in traffic on the way home. I was zoning out and looked in the car beside me. Inside the lexus were 4 guys dressed like pirates. They had gone all out, head scarfs, eye patches and swords. We stared back and forth for a moment and then traffic started to move. I saluted them and two of them took off their hats and did an elaborate car bow. It was impressive and the perfect nightcap.
Today has been spent lounging and recovering. It was an excellent weekend, and if my neighbor wasn't directy outside my window tuning up his motorcycle and revving his engine, I would have entirely forgotten why I hate LA. But that sadly wasn't meant to be.
Saturday I picked up a friend who is in town and we hit the road to go down to Venice. By hit the road I of course mean sat parked on the 101 for 30 minutes. Parked. If I thought peeling off my own skin and running through the streets would help speed traffic up, hand to god, I would have done it. My friend sat beside me, open mouthed and shocked. She finally whispered "Is it always like this?" and I nodded, a tear in my eye and said, yes. Finally traffic moved and we were able to get up to a respectable 20 mph. An hour later we had driven the 15 miles and arrived at the beach. It was gorgeous. We went to one of my favorite restaurants, C & O Trattoria. The reason it's my favorite isn't because the food is all that good, it's because the atmosphere is great and they have free, unlimited garlic knots. And for those who know me I would go to the ends of the earth for bread, especially bread topped with garlic. We had a long and wonderful lunch, lots of wine, pasta and easily 19 lbs of garlic knots. Those are the best kind of lunches, hours spent with a good glass of wine and good conversation. It just feels decedant. Food comas set in and we took a walk down the pier and just stared at the water for awhile.
Later that night I met another friend to go to a photography exibition and meet her new boy. Ah, young love. The show was smaller than we expected so we were mostly standing around and decided we were starving. We hopped in our cars and went to fantastic tapas place. Since the restaurant is located in LA, and every restaurant here is a fusion, this was American tapas. The best one? Mac and cheese in a parmesean cup. Lots of wine and lots and lots of cheese. More cheese than I have ever consummed in one sitting which is quite possibly a new Guinness book record. I think today I am composed entirely of dairy. It's attractive, I assure you.
The best part of the evening actually happened when I was stuck in traffic on the way home. I was zoning out and looked in the car beside me. Inside the lexus were 4 guys dressed like pirates. They had gone all out, head scarfs, eye patches and swords. We stared back and forth for a moment and then traffic started to move. I saluted them and two of them took off their hats and did an elaborate car bow. It was impressive and the perfect nightcap.
Today has been spent lounging and recovering. It was an excellent weekend, and if my neighbor wasn't directy outside my window tuning up his motorcycle and revving his engine, I would have entirely forgotten why I hate LA. But that sadly wasn't meant to be.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Here I Go Again
I wish I hadn’t stopped writing. Seriously. I miss it every day. I see something funny, such as Ron Jeremy driving a Maxima while eating a hot dog, and I want to write about it but I don’t. I tried once but, oof, it’s not like riding a bike and you don’t remember how. It came out stilted and awkward. I’m sure this will as well but you know, at this point I say screw it. Maybe the flow will come back with time. Maybe it won’t and I will forever be the awkward writing girl. As I am generally awkward in every other part of my life I feel like it fits.
So let’s get down to it. The last oh say 8 months of my life have been interesting, chaotic, transformative, horrible, gut wrenching and at times, wacky, how have you been? And thus the end of the formalities.
So here I am, your ODD, currently in a hotel room in Florida. I have relocated myself and my two cats to Los Angeles (more on why I am in Florida later). There is a boy in my life but out of respect for him I am not going to mention him or my relationship, maybe one day he’ll consent to it but for now he has asked that I delicately “keep him the hell out of this.” And so, I for one of the first times in my life, am obliging. I am trying to be less difficult, not sure how that will go, but we’ll call it a grand experiment.
I moved to LA in September and have not fully adapted. I am trying, really and truly, but it’s not my kind of town. Everything you see and read about LA? Yeah, it’s all true. The size 8 jeans I bought were the obese size, I have never talked more about film and Britney Spears in my entire life, and dear lord there are a lot of women with big breasts. This town, in short, makes me afraid for humanity. I actually feel myself losing intellect day by day. And still, I stay. I am something of a glutton for punishment.
My first job out here for was a cult. It wasn’t technically a cult just one of the “religious” organizations that all the stars flock to. Unfortunately the only star I met was one from Dawson’s Creek and no, it wasn’t her. The job was 2.9 miles from my apartment and was a 40 minute drive on bad days. I could have actually crawled on my face and made better time. I controlled their website and marketing and one day I realized that my job was in fact to get more people to join the cult and give up their life savings. This was not a good feeling. When the leader drove up in his new 95,000 dollar car and his wife emerged wearing Chloe head to toe, I knew it was time to go.
Now I work for a big time show biz company. You’ve heard of us, trust me. And this new job is why in fact I am in Florida. It’s also the reason I decided to go back to the blog. Tonight I had a business dinner that left me feeling, well, stupid. I was telling a story to the person seated next to me, we were laughing and having a good time, when suddenly all eyes were on us. The man next to me said something about how my story was funny and asked me to repeat it to the group. Let's just say, I didn't feel like it went over well with the higher ups at the table. For the first time in a long time I came home embarrassed of who I am. I will always be, to some, a little too loud, a little too gregarious, too animated, too fat, too blonde, too something. In New York that was ok. Because I think most people there are also a “little too”. That doesn’t really fly in the well-toned world of LA. And in front of this table, I felt like an ass. I cried on the phone to the boy and he reminded me that I am in fact not shit. That sure, my boss may chastise me tomorrow for dominating the conversation for a moment, and so be it, maybe it’s a lesson learned. But I yam who I yam, and who I am is a storyteller. Good or bad, it’s me, and so I return. There are probably no readers left and that’s ok, I just need an outlet, a place to tell a story and get it out.
And thus, let the story begin.
So let’s get down to it. The last oh say 8 months of my life have been interesting, chaotic, transformative, horrible, gut wrenching and at times, wacky, how have you been? And thus the end of the formalities.
So here I am, your ODD, currently in a hotel room in Florida. I have relocated myself and my two cats to Los Angeles (more on why I am in Florida later). There is a boy in my life but out of respect for him I am not going to mention him or my relationship, maybe one day he’ll consent to it but for now he has asked that I delicately “keep him the hell out of this.” And so, I for one of the first times in my life, am obliging. I am trying to be less difficult, not sure how that will go, but we’ll call it a grand experiment.
I moved to LA in September and have not fully adapted. I am trying, really and truly, but it’s not my kind of town. Everything you see and read about LA? Yeah, it’s all true. The size 8 jeans I bought were the obese size, I have never talked more about film and Britney Spears in my entire life, and dear lord there are a lot of women with big breasts. This town, in short, makes me afraid for humanity. I actually feel myself losing intellect day by day. And still, I stay. I am something of a glutton for punishment.
My first job out here for was a cult. It wasn’t technically a cult just one of the “religious” organizations that all the stars flock to. Unfortunately the only star I met was one from Dawson’s Creek and no, it wasn’t her. The job was 2.9 miles from my apartment and was a 40 minute drive on bad days. I could have actually crawled on my face and made better time. I controlled their website and marketing and one day I realized that my job was in fact to get more people to join the cult and give up their life savings. This was not a good feeling. When the leader drove up in his new 95,000 dollar car and his wife emerged wearing Chloe head to toe, I knew it was time to go.
Now I work for a big time show biz company. You’ve heard of us, trust me. And this new job is why in fact I am in Florida. It’s also the reason I decided to go back to the blog. Tonight I had a business dinner that left me feeling, well, stupid. I was telling a story to the person seated next to me, we were laughing and having a good time, when suddenly all eyes were on us. The man next to me said something about how my story was funny and asked me to repeat it to the group. Let's just say, I didn't feel like it went over well with the higher ups at the table. For the first time in a long time I came home embarrassed of who I am. I will always be, to some, a little too loud, a little too gregarious, too animated, too fat, too blonde, too something. In New York that was ok. Because I think most people there are also a “little too”. That doesn’t really fly in the well-toned world of LA. And in front of this table, I felt like an ass. I cried on the phone to the boy and he reminded me that I am in fact not shit. That sure, my boss may chastise me tomorrow for dominating the conversation for a moment, and so be it, maybe it’s a lesson learned. But I yam who I yam, and who I am is a storyteller. Good or bad, it’s me, and so I return. There are probably no readers left and that’s ok, I just need an outlet, a place to tell a story and get it out.
And thus, let the story begin.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Once Bitten, Twice Shy
I have the flu. I would not, in fact recommend this to a friend. I would also not recommend it while on vacation, which I am. I am visiting an old friend out west and am supposed to be living it up and stress free. Instead, I am home with a box of Kleenex, the pulpiest orange juice in the history of the world, and crappy DVDs. My friend is out, needing to escape the wonderful sneezing that is me.
Things are still insane and upside down. Some things have changed, others haven't. One that has, while seemingly small to others, actually isn't. The other week, after roughly 15 years of long, long hair, I cut it all off. I decided that the kids at Locks of Love needed it more than I. It was something I have always wanted to do but never had the balls to go through. One morning I just woke up and decided that it was a fresh start and that was my first step. The other steps are yet to come, but I guess only time will tell.
I had planned on writing more, but here's the thing. I like telling stories, I find it fun and it's a good way to space out my thoughts. However, the sharing the details of my life has come to really bite me squarely on the ass. I am trying to do this maybe, again, but without the truly personal stuff. But my sweet fancy moses, it's hard. I start one train of thought and then second guess myself. I don't know if this will work or not, I guess only time will tell with that as well.
That's all for now, more really poorly made movies need my attention.
Things are still insane and upside down. Some things have changed, others haven't. One that has, while seemingly small to others, actually isn't. The other week, after roughly 15 years of long, long hair, I cut it all off. I decided that the kids at Locks of Love needed it more than I. It was something I have always wanted to do but never had the balls to go through. One morning I just woke up and decided that it was a fresh start and that was my first step. The other steps are yet to come, but I guess only time will tell.
I had planned on writing more, but here's the thing. I like telling stories, I find it fun and it's a good way to space out my thoughts. However, the sharing the details of my life has come to really bite me squarely on the ass. I am trying to do this maybe, again, but without the truly personal stuff. But my sweet fancy moses, it's hard. I start one train of thought and then second guess myself. I don't know if this will work or not, I guess only time will tell with that as well.
That's all for now, more really poorly made movies need my attention.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Chaos
My life for the past 45 days or so has been chaotic at best. Things turned upside down, inside out and any which way imaginable. At times I feel like I can't catch my breath. Other times I feel like I am at the very end of my rope. It's scary, it's hard, it's life and currently, it sucks. But I am pushing on and focusing on the good things the future (hopefully) holds. Or at least I am trying to. When you are in the midst of the suck it's hard to be all positive. Let's just say I am really trying to focus on good stuff, wherever it may be.
I am still trying to figure out if I should return to blogging full time. I ,at times, miss it, and at others am glad my life is mine again. No one knows the inner thoughts but me. But these days, when my brain is spinning 145 mph, I need some kind of outlet. Trying to decide if this is it...I'll let you know. Especially as the address will surely change and there will be a password of some sort involved.
Word.
I am still trying to figure out if I should return to blogging full time. I ,at times, miss it, and at others am glad my life is mine again. No one knows the inner thoughts but me. But these days, when my brain is spinning 145 mph, I need some kind of outlet. Trying to decide if this is it...I'll let you know. Especially as the address will surely change and there will be a password of some sort involved.
Word.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Question
Does anyone know of a good password protected blogging site? If I were to continue blogging I think that's the only way I would ever consider it again.
Thoughts or suggestions anyone?
Thoughts or suggestions anyone?
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