Wednesday, December 21, 2011

And They Say Romantic Comedies Aren't Realistic

I can't help but chuckle as I watch action movies or spy TV shows, etc.  There's almost always a scene in which a woman has to seduce a man while wearing a ball gown.  The men they're trying to seduce are almost always conveniently hosting lavish parties where it doesn't even faze them that someone they've never met is there - and usually stealing attention on the dance floor.

Reality check:  These are not the men that these women would really have to seduce.  They wouldn't be wearing white tuxedos and drinking 30 year old scotch, fyi.  No, the powerful men in reality would be wearing hoodie sweatshirts, glasses, and converse sneakers.  They could more easily pass for homeless than lavish.  The hot women seducing them would need to get an invitation to their exclusive arcade (where they have the original Ms. PacMan game, and you might even be able to touch it IF you wash your hands first).   If the girl has long, flowing hair, full lips, and a tramp stamp, and if she showed a passing interest in hearing stories of the first time the guy hacked into the Pentagon's server, she's golden.   (Yeah, that's right - Social Network.)

So, stop telling me I'm unrealistic in imagining that Colin Firth might find me charming for doing something as mundane as tripping over my heels.  (Note:  I would never trip over my heels.  That's just crazy talk.)  I'm actually just as realistic as the average writer, regardless of the genre.

Side note:  I'm reminded of a fun scene in Ocean's 13 when the gender tables are turned.  Finally, it's Matt Damon who must play the 'seductress' to Ellen Barkin.  For the record, Matt, the nose plays.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Me and Mindy Kaling

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) [Book]As everyone knows, Kelly Kapoor (as played by Mindy Kaling) loves Bridget Jones and impersonates her sometimes on customer service calls.  She likes ice cream.  She needs a boyfriend.

If you haven't read it yet, spoiler:  Mindy ALSO loves Bridget Jones as shown in her new book Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns)....which you should totally read, like, nowish.  She specifically talks about how a nontraumatic event has made her cry: when Mark Darcy tells Bridget that he likes her just the way she is as she's making an "Irish Exit" from the smug married dinner party.  (Ok, maybe it's not technically an Irish Exit, but we didn't SEE her say goodbye.  Same thing.)  Yes, Mindy.  It is fabulous.  It's not Ephrony, but that's kinda why it's so awesome.

The major take-away from her book (other than laughter and delight that we could totally be best friends - no seriously, I might stalk you, Mindy) is that I discovered I might be afraid of dating "men."  Eek!  I didn't realize it, but yes, Mindy, you're right!  I'm scared when guys have everything together and have all of these real grown up opinions about things.  I don't know if I'm ready for the medicine cabinet with Lipitor in it just yet.  If you want to see me squirm, have a guy mention how his stockbroker saved him some money, allowing him to take a week long vacation to Brazil where he went to museums by choice instead of getting drunk and scamming on half-naked babes on the beach.  What?  That should be drool-inducing, but I'd be scared to death!  Apparently, I want to be the more cultured, mature person in the relationship, and that is a P-R-O-B-L-E-M!  Note: not because I know a lot of guys like this and have been running for the hills upon meeting them, but because I'm apparently not even looking for them!

Eye opening.  I needed that.  Thanks, Mindy.  (That makes us totally BFFs now, by the way.  My closet es su closet.)

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Happy Holidays is not a "War on Christmas"

As a Christian, I have to come out with it already.  I say "Happy Holidays."  I buy two sets of cards - one with Christmas mentioned and one without.  Or else I just buy ones without, if my needs are small enough for one box of cards.  And for my money, that does not take ANYTHING away from Christmas.

War-on-Christmas people, you just can't have it both ways!  You can't win being the most popular winter holiday, expect everyone to respect your right to celebrate it with time off work, presents, and heck, even bonuses, AND then also claim that you are victims.  Sorry, doesn't work that way.

In sports terms (which I know absolutely nothing about), that would be like winning the Superbowl and expecting the losing team's city to host a parade for you that you aren't even going to attend.

By all means, wish EACH OTHER a very merry Christmas.  No one has ever said you can't.  I believe THAT is something your often misquoted 1st amendment would protect.  But what the heck do you care if people say other things?  I'm sorry, are we living in Nazi Germany?  Do we all need to start our conversations with Heil Hitler?

If you want to know what is the real war-on-Christmas, it's that you're AOK with people celebrating Christmas as a family tradition, about as religious as Thanksgiving.  (Note:  this is not something I have a problem with.)  Every time a non-Christian wishes someone Merry Christmas, that should be a little part of you dying.  It's certainly a little part of your argument dying.

I try my darndest NOT to wish Merry Christmas to anyone who doesn't celebrate it.  Some celebrate it as a religious holiday, some not so much.  If you celebrate it, you get a Merry Christmas.  BUT I completely respect everyone's right NOT to celebrate Christmas, and I would feel much more comfortable wishing those people Happy Holidays.  After all, we're talking about wishing well upon people, right?  So isn't this fight already a huge contradiction of intent?

The second part of your argument that I have a problem with:  The victim mentality.  Why, oh why, oh why do you CHOOSE to make yourselves victims here?  A) It's a stretch to even begin to see you as one.  B) Who on earth wants to be a victim?  (See previous post.)  C) If you really were victims - not legally allowed to mention Christmas in public - that would go against the constitution, you're right....but you're not, so shut it.

Summary:  I'm a Christian.  I'm not a victim.  And I say "Happy Holidays."  What would you prefer I say to you, f&*k you?  That's another option.

Bridget on Victimology

My #1 favorite thing about Bridget Jones is how she refuses to be a victim. 

I also try to refuse to be a victim.  I do strange things my friends don't understand to make sure I'm not a victim.  For example, I'll try to move a sofa out of a tight doorway so that if the paint chips off in the attempt, I have no one to blame but myself.  That's right.  I did that.  And guess what?  The paint chipped.  What of it?  See, I can handle that the choices I make in life lead to bad outcomes.  I can't handle blaming "the establishment" or anyone else for my suffering.  (In this case, suffering is looking at chipped paint in the doorway...I really should just get that fixed.) 

When words that resemble "excuses" come out of my mouth, a little vomit does as well.  I focus on making "explanations" not excuses, but it's a terribly thin line.  After all, some explanations are necessary in life.  For instance, "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings by leaving you out.  I sincerely thought you had other plans."  Without that explanation, you could have a Three's Company style 'misunderstanding' that can only be worked out by things getting much, much worse...until the Roepers sort things out.  Still, thin line.  I'm working on it, Bridge. 

Tell me, does Bridget Jones explain in great detail that she didn't know the mic just needed to be switched on?  Does she make a sign to hang around her neck explaining how she thought she was attending a Tarts and Vicars party because Geoffrey forgot to call her?  Does she whine and complain that Daniel cheated on her?  That she was given the wrong cue and that why she flashed (and then toppled) a TV camera?  Does she blame her crew when she misses an important interview whilst buying Polos and a packet of Wheat Crunchies?

Answer:  no, she does not.  Quite admirably so, I'd say.

So long as Bridget can have a good movie montage where she drinks a lot of vodka, throws away self-help books and falls off a stationary bike, she's golden.  She will not be defeated by anyone, much less a bad man and an American stick insect.  She will look for new jobs, telling them the blunt truth of why she's on the job market, land one, and then tell the bad man she'd prefer kissing Saddam Hussein's a$$ to working within ten yards of him.  Plan of attack - Follow through - Success.  R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to her!

So while a lot of Bridget's characteristics are, ahem, an acquired taste let's say, her dedication to not being a victim is one that can be admired by one and all.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Smug New Mothers

The story's out.  The third film will be about Bridget Jones, the new mother, entitled "Bridget Jones's Baby."

  • Colin Firth will most definitely be in tons of scenes, given that Mark Darcy had better be the Daddy. 
  • It would be quite challenging to fit in a scene of her doing drugs in Thailand, my least favorite scene of the sequel.
  • The weight gain and insecurities will be a proper theme for a new mother.
  • I can't wait to see the Joneses and the Darcys as grandparents.  Joy!
  • It's another chance for Bridget to be on the screen and go through an important life chapter, giving us possible quotes for when we go through it ourselves.  The new "eating the entire contents of one's fridge" after a break-up could be "the only thing worse than a smug new mother - lots of smug new mothers." 
  • Edge of Reason's best scene is a DVD extra where Bridget interviews Colin Firth.  This is a bit reminiscent of Love Actually's best scene being the extended version of Hugh Grant dancing that was also a DVD extra.  In other words, those movies stunk.  A fact which does not stop me from watching them when they come on television.
  • There's no drinking or smoking for a new mom....sigh.  But there can be "talking total nonsense."
  • We know Daniel Cleaver will make an appearance, but the stakes seem just a little too high for a rekindling of their romance.  I don't want to see him wrecking their home, complete with a BABY!
  • Oh please, dear God in heaven, don't let there be a projectile vomiting scene in which Baby spits up on Mark Darcy's barrister gown.  I will cry if you reduce yourselves to that level of comedy.
  • Will she have become a smug married herself?  The risk exists. Oy.
  • There is a chance that this actually will end with her delivering the baby in the hospital...oh how wrong they could possibly do that.  In fact, there's pretty much no way they could do it right.
  • If they even use the word paternity test, I'm walking out.  Full stop.
  • Everyone remembers there's no book this is based on, right? 

In short, Hooray for there being a new movie with Bridget and my two favorite Brits.  Boo for there being a v. g. chance that this will win tons of Razzies.
PS - does anyone remember when Renee Zellweger was actually nominated for an Oscar for Bridget Jones?  Thrilled me to the core.  Oh look how far we've fallen, Bridge.  I fear for your future, but only out of love.

Pssst.  Helen Fielding....ever thought about making a Daniel Cleaver spin-off movie instead of a sequel?

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

No Blue Soup! aka Suck it, Bridget!

The Spread
This is my spread sans dessert (which was in the fridge).  Not too shabby, aye?  Best meal ever, some might say.  (They might...they happened not to say it, but they might have not been the "some" who would.  That's all I'm sayin'.)  Though I must credit Crystal with making the salad.  Still, I chopped the tomatoes and "planned" to make it...I just ran out of time. 

The crowd favorite appears to have been the Sweet Potato Gnocchi with comments like "why can't you just make that every night" and "please make this again for Thanksgiving!"  Done!

 All I know for sure is that Sandy didn't get any scraps...and some went back for seconds too!

Rachel, Nick, Crystal, Kelly, Sarah, and Heather.  (Not pictured:  Sandy)

Here is the urban family after cleaning their plates.  Look at the happy faces, satisfied with the fact that they didn't have to ingest blue soup, omelette, and marmalade after hours of careful cooking!

As we watched BJD the second time, we added a bit more context to the film by "having our colors done" a la Color Me Beautiful.  There were a lot of tips in there that were, well, dated let's say.

I'm not sure if this is when Crystal plotted buying "Color For Men" for Nick.  But that happened.

I thought I had a picture of the tiramisu cake, but oh well.  I guess I'll just have to tell the story without the photo.  I got a 4 and a 3 candle for it as this would have been Movie Bridget's 43rd birthday....but it was also just 5 days after urban family member Nick's 34th birthday.  So, I switched them for him - and the party became a surprise party.  I'm not sure sharing a birthday party with Bridget Jones was on his bucket list, but if so, check!

*Mark Darcy and Daniel Cleaver did not show.  I blame Sarah for that.  She was supposed to bring them.  And apparently much plotting was done by Crystal and Kelly to make it happen as well.

Summary:  I made the better meal but got none of the sweet rewards in the form of British men fighting over me to the tune of It's Raining Men.  Sigh.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Happy Birthday, Bridget!

November 9th.  Cigarettes 3.  Birthdays 33.

Tonight is the night I promised long ago - the urban family dinner party commemorating Bridget Jones's birthday.  While a friend told me I should not actually make blue soup, omelet, and marmalade (after 4 hours of careful cooking), it was quite tempting.

Instead, tonight's menu includes mainly things I've never made before that could become problematic and represent the "blue soup" phenomenon.

The Menu:
Heirloom Tomato and Fresh Mozzarella Salad
Pesto Cheese Manicotti
Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Sage Butter sauce
Roasted Green Beans
And Wine of course.  Lots of wine.

I did a very un-Bridget like thing and did a lot of pre-planning and prepping.  I prepped for about 4 hours last night, so I can already report some disastrous results.

For instance, the tiramisu recipe I chose was based on it being much easier than actually making tiramisu from scratch.  My first recipe called for pre-made lady fingers, but having found none in stores, I opted for a recipe with a pre-made Angel Food cake instead.  Easy enough, no?  No indeed.  I was supposed to "whip" the whipping cream and marscapone cheese until it was "stiff."  That never happened.  I got to the point where I thought it was getting less stiff instead of more stiff and stopped.  In short, the tiramisu is a runny mess in my fridge, and it's the only completed item for the menu.  This bodes well for the meal.

But other prepping worked out much better.  I made the sweet potato gnocchi (I'm a big fan of both sweet potatoes and gnocchi) completely and totally from scratch, and I do think it's going to work out pretty well.  The only remaining obstacle will be when I make the sauce tonight and saute them.  Fingers crossed.

The cheese manicotti is the only thing I've successfully made before.  (I've roasted green beans, but they didn't turn out too well...I ended up throwing them away uneaten.)  To prove that this dinner would indeed fit the "blue soup" requirement, my manicotti shells split while boiling them, so they are pretty much a broken, folded pasta mess with cheese.  I happen to like a folded pasta mess with cheese.  I hope my urban family does as well.

Let me extend an open invitation for Mark Darcy and Daniel Cleaver to join the festivities tonight.  Please note you will be required to fight each other, preferably to the tune of It's Raining Men.  (Hallelujah!)  I have it on iTunes.  Not a problem.

In other news, Caperberries...apparently always a bad idea.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

"Featuring someone called Aghani-Heaney"

"Or two people called Kafir Aghani and Eleanor Heaney."  "Right, that's the one."

I'm fairly a-political, but in saying that I have to add that I'm also staunchly liberal.  (Contradiction!)

Still, I really hate extremes, and that's what I mean by being a-political.  I don't like the Tea Party, I don't understand Occupy Wall Street.  I would like to give the world a hug.

I've gotten in a few arguments discussions about politics with members of the other side.  I tend to be polite and try to find middle ground, hoping that the conversation will end sooner that way.  I don't think that I associate with evil people, so therefore I don't believe that the people I'm arguing discussing politics with who happen to have opposing views are {Satan, Hitler, Osama bin Laden}.  I figure we all want what's good for the country, but we just don't agree on what that is or how to go about achieving it.  Fair enough, right?

However, being "reasonable" usually makes the people I argue discuss with think that I'm not "really" a liberal or that I could be swayed to the dark other side.  They find out that I can't by my responding with this simple fact.  I've made my peace with the extreme liberals who have sit-ins and throw red paint on fur coats.  I will never make my peace with extreme conservatives who bomb abortion clinics.  So, that's a deal breaker there.  Not switching teams.

However, someone appears to have called my bluff!  I don't for the life of me understand this "sit-in" called Occupy Wall Street.  I know one side says they are just lazy people blaming others for their laziness in not having a job or money.  The other side says that they are protesting corporate influence on government.  (My question back to them:  is this really the best idea you had to do that?)

I hate to say it, but I think I don't understand the movement because it's an unorganized mess of people who don't know what they want.  Each side is right about SOME of the participants, but not all.  I can't really get on board with it because of that ambivalence.

But you know what I'm going to say next, right?  I still like 'em a hell of a lot more than the Tea Party.  So, not switching teams.

PS - Weight:  x+16, ridiculous ridiculousness.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Things I Wish Weren't True

Weight: x+17.5 - scale anomaly.  Believe new scale is one of those personal trainers that just yells at you and makes you feel bad about yourself until you work harder or commit suicide.  Plan on beating scale by standing on one foot tomorrow.  That'll teach it!

They really and truly are making a third Bridget Jones movie, complete with Renee, Hugh and (drool) Colin, but they don't have a director and start shooting in January.  That inspires a lot of confidence.

Let me list a few reasons that this seems like a bad idea:
1) There's not a third book.  So what is this based on?
2) The second movie....not a classic (unless you count such Razzie winners like The Blue Lagoon and Snakes on a Plane as classics, which is arguably true).
3) As mentioned above, they start shooting in January and don't have a director.  Wowza.
4) Did I mention how bad the second movie was?  Because Bridget lover that I am, I must finally admit it was quite painful.
5) How will Bridget randomly be falling into bed with Daniel Cleaver this time?  Will he rufi her?  Will there be, gasp, some kind of misunderstanding? 

Let me list one reason this seems like a good idea:
1) There will be a scene in which Mark and Daniel fight, right?  We've had an alley, a fountain...what could be next?  Parliament under Big Ben?  The London Eye?  In front of Buckingham Palace?

In summary, I need script approval for this project.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Weight:  x+17.8 (Yes, that counts as losing weight...)

Random thoughts in my head right now...

I took my first gym class in years, and yes, I still hate them.  A lot.  I was feeling so "open to new things" and positive that I made a big mistake.  I told the instructor my real name.  Whoops!  So for the full hour, all I heard was "Kelley, tuck your seat, roll your shoulders back, hold your abs tight" - I wish I had told her my name was Sasha.  Being the New Girl in class sucks.  However, I think I was the only one to do "real" push-ups.  Yeah, that's right, all 40 of them!  4-0!  I'm considering that a WIN!  (PS - how is it that I ran 8 miles straight without stopping yesterday, and I put my freaking leg up on a bar, and it's shaking uncontrollably after an 8-count, argh!)

If the class was designed to make me want to come home and jam as many pretzels dipped in nutella in my mouth in a minute, then mission accomplished!  (Also, Selena Gomez blamed nutella for some health issues recently, and I just want to say:  Selena, if you lied and are really on drugs, you're going down!  Why would you give nutella a bad name?  Moms have ENOUGH trouble getting their kids to eat a healthy breakfast of chocolate flavored toast!  Wasn't sullying the Bieb's good name enough for you?)

In other news, I freaking love Fox's New Girl.  I couldn't love it more.  I could try, but it might take some kind of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind procedure where I was forced to forget all of the other awesome shows I've loved before.  I'm hugging it in my mind.

And since I work in TV and have strong opinions about shows, I thought I'd give you my synopsis of the 2nd episode of Playboy Club:
Bunny 1:  Hey, remember what happened last week?
Bunny 2:  Yeah.
Bunny 1:  Darn, I was hoping you forgot so I could remind you for an hour.
Bunny 2:  Go ahead and act like I said I didn't remember.  We don't have any better ideas after all.
Bunny 1:  OK!

Wow, guys.  That was painful.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Weight:  x+18 - yeah, that running and dieting sure is paying off....

Ba-dum Bum, Ba-dum Bum.  Ba-dum Bum, Ba-dum Bum.  ("Rocky" theme music in theory)

I'm pumping myself up, NOT taking no for an answer, and going into the world to kick some major butt.  Beware, world.  I'm coming for you.


Tuesday, August 23, 2011


I feel a lot like the girl who's picked out her bridesmaids' dresses before the guy even know the girl.  Mine is job-related, but still annoying/exciting/nail-biting.

I spent summer of my freshmen year in college analyzing if a certain day was more likely to bring the intended (and already discussed) proposal with a certain reader that will remain un-named.  Not to say it wasn't exciting when she called me from the top of Stone Mountain - she certainly seemed excited, and I know I was - but still, there were equal amounts of relief that it had happened and there was no need to worry about whether it would anymore.

That's the summer I decided that I really hoped I'd be completely caught off guard by a guy proposing, so much so that I'd ask him politely if I could have a day to think about it so that I would be able to put my whole heart in it and know it was the right decision.  My friends say that is rude and would be a guy's nightmare, but it's still my dream.  I really hate the foregone conclusion.  The idea that you're so sick of waiting for something that it's hard to even enjoy it once it comes your way.   You're just relieved that the freaking waiting is over.

Aren't there a few people out there who still get carried away with luck and are surprised by their good fortune?  And if so, can't I dare to dream that I might one day be one of them?

Rant about Fashion

Fashion is something women created to make other women feel inferior.  Women do not use fashion to attract men as it's more than likely actually a turn-off.  No, it's a whole industry designed to keep others in their place and create a false stigma that "more expensive" is somehow "better." 

Anyway, as a person who is on the verge of falling into the fashion money pit, I just wanted to call fashion out on its own game. 

I'm still going to lug around my P&P kate spade book clutch (that I managed to buy on sale, woohoo), but when I do, I'm going to know that it's because I love it and just can't help myself....certainly not to impress anyone.  Because quite frankly, the only thing it should say to people is "here's a girl who is on her way to becoming a lonely cat lady."

And maybe they'd be right, too.

Friday, August 12, 2011

*May* have broken my scale...

Weight:  I don't freaking know, and it's KILLING me!  How do I know if I'm on track?  How do I know if I should feel guilty?  And worst of all, will I not get credit for running 10 miles last night?  EEK!

As the subject line says, I *may* have broken my scale.  While I could certainly feel bad about having put my heavy a$$ on it and thus breaking it, I believe it was something electronic since it just wouldn't power up today.  I plan on buying one immediately and starving myself until I get it so that I'll still have the residual running effect.  And I'm really doing well on the whole starving myself thing as I've already eaten 2 of my 3 meals today.  Oh well.... 

(Note:  Starving is always a bad idea.  That's why I'd never do it to myself.)

Monday, August 8, 2011

On Politics

Weight: x+17, scale is unaware of my having run 32 miles last week.  That's fine, I'm not bitter.....argh.

I was thinking about the debt ceiling crisis and how people don't approve of Congress as a whole right now, the one thing Democrats and Republicans can agree on.  It made me think of this:

It's like when Mark Darcy and Daniel Cleaver are fighting over Bridget, and she's on the sidelines debating who to root for.  Then, Mark wins the fight, but they both lose her. 

That's kinda how the debt ceiling debate went.  Only WAY less hot.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The Power of the "Send" button

Weight: x+18.6, are you kidding me?  Is this a prank?  Am I being punked here?  Scale: this is how it works.  When I exercise and don't eat candy and pizza, you say a LOWER number.  Got it?

As a writer, there's really no greater feeling than having just pressed "send" on an email with your script attached.  Even better when you've actually remembered amidst all of the excitement to actually attach the script!  I often have the elation to want to do everything all at once.  Sometimes, I want to watch every movie ever made while eating every food ever eaten while traveling to every place on earth!  Sadly, all of that is not possible.  But maybe you know the feeling.  Like when your senses are all off the charts at the same time, and your mind is going a mile a minute.

But this feeling doesn't just extend to writers.  There are a few times in life when you get an overwhelming feeling of relief from having sent an email.  Something said that needed saying.  Something that required you to really get your thoughts down on paper.  Something that you obsessed about until you finally resolved to just do it.  Click, sent.

I just sent an email like that.  Awesome.  There's no going back.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

I just ran....and ran...and ran some more.

Since I was sad Friday, I spent the weekend thinking how I could shake off my funk.  I spent loads of time with friends and also decided that if I could kick the a&$ of one aspect of my life into high gear, I would probably feel better.  At least momentarily.

So, I ran.  I ran about 3.5 miles on Saturday at a speed I certainly didn't think I could run for very long.  Then, I ran 10 miles on Sunday at a speed that was more in my comfort zone. 

So THERE, sadness!  BAM!  I am the master of the treadmill!

Did it fix everything for Monday morning?  Ok, not really, but it still has residuals of making me feel closer to one of my goals. 

*Note: Not this one... Weight: x+17.6  (Scale seems strangely unaware of my running.)

Friday, July 29, 2011

WWBJD: Real Life

Some days, nothing really has to change for you to see that your life sucks.  That you're never going to get what you want in life unless something changes, and nothing's going to change for a really long time.  Even if you've been promised it would.  Even if you deserve it.  Even if you have a very easy to implement way for it to change immediately.  Even if you have said as much multiple times, and not really gotten a good reason for why it's not changing in response.

I guess I didn't realize how much like my biological father I really am.  That I've constructed a world based entirely on my denial of reality.  That I actually kind of sort of believed this world was real.  That I really did forget the truths that I couldn't accept, couldn't face day in and day out.  But some days, they all hit you smack dab in the face, like the sliding glass door your dog thinks is open.  Bam, nose crunching, head smashing, on the floor knocked out.  Everyone's laughing, and you know you should be laughing too - if not for the fact that it hurts.

That's what I mean about nothing having to change.  The only real change is your own perspective.

So now, I'm sitting here, wondering how I can manage not to cry.  I have a book that I find thoroughly entertaining (I read books as a part of work - note: that's the part of work I like), and the 65 pages I have left to read could fill this little period of emotionally draining suckage. 

What would Bridget do?  Read the book or Cry?

I think she'd eat.  I'm going to track down some chocolate stat.

Update:  I hate it when I'm sad.  Sorry, guys.  But maybe someone will read this and know they aren't alone.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

On Seasons

Weight:  Eleventy million pounds and counting...

Dear Weather Men:
What did you think Summer was going to be like?  Yes, I know some summers, most in fact, people die from heat exhaustion, dehydration, etc.  It IS a serious problem, and I agree that the heat index is definitely worth telling people about.  It's what some, not Newsweek but some, might call "news."  It very well might affect their preparedness and safety under such conditions and therefore save lives.

But when it's Winter, you talk about "The Blizzard of the Century."  When it's Spring, you talk about "the Rain that made Waterworld a reality."  When it's Summer, you talk about it being "really, really hot."  Shocker.  You act like Snow in a place like Boston is always "record-breaking," when in reality, that's just a place where it snows a lot.  People should know that.  Summer = heat.  Winter = cold.  Cold places = cold winters.  These are all just facts.

When I was a kid (a million years ago, I know), we didn't talk about the weather being "THE END OF THE WORLD!"  We just said "the high will be in the mid 80s" (which is what it is here in Sunny, Deadly Burbank, by the way), and left it at that.  It was called "summer."  It lasted about 3 months, and then we all moved into what we called "fall."

So, come on!  Let's have a little accountability here!  If at age 5, you knew to wear shorts in the summer and to put on sunscreen, how did that fact escape you later on?  If at age 7, you knew not listening to your mom about putting on your coat in the winter would give you a cold - otherwise known as "a much needed week off from school" - when did you forget it?  Was it in your drunken 20s?  Kill too many brain cells, did you? 

California Girl who wants it to be hot enough to go to the beach.

PS - I was promised temps in the 100s this week.  You've only reached an 86.  86?  That's a B for you, weather.  I'm watching you.

PPS - Have theory that 9/11 is to blame for all this weather hype. Fear tactics, I tell you. I want no more of it!  That being said, please no one make this into a discussion about global warming...just let that opportunity slide this time.  I really would rather not politicize it with a party in mind.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

How Sexy is Self-control?

Weight: argh.  x+18.  If you didn't suspect that from the Starbucks treat yesterday.

Has any guy in the history of the planet uttered the following:  "Oh, wow, she's so strict with her's so sexy..."

Answer:  NO!  They have not!  And you want to know why?  Because it's not sexy to be a "rule follower," even if the rules are eating sensible portions of healthy foods.

No!  In fact, boys buy girls boxes of chocolates, CHOCOLATES!  That's because they WANT you to give into a little. 

Far more often, they'll utter the following:  "Mmm, how good is that milk shake?  How delicious is that chocolate chip cookie?  Can I split your brownie?  No, I can't?  Because you've already devoured the whole thing...scandalously hot..."

Now that's what I call sexy, dude.  So much for self-denying ritualistic torture of dieting.  Yeah, I will eat that cookie....mmm....and I'll LIKE it!

So, guess what, boys.  I'm about to be the JAMES DEAN of eating chocolates.  Totally hot.

*PS.  Boys, you'll just have to accept that with that giving-into-temptation lifestyle, we're going to be a little on the chubbier side.  You didn't want to hug a coat rack, did you?

Monday, July 18, 2011

Thanks, Starbucks

Weight:  x+17.  Nutella....100% nutella.

Today, I went to Starbucks to get a reduced-fat calorie-free treat that, in fact, has a zillion calories.  So, that's not a good thing to do if you're a girl keeping up the charade of being on a life-long diet. 

BUT!  I refused to get the iced grande chai latte I really did want to go with it.  The barista (not to be confused with barrister - the likes of Mark Darcy) asked if I was quote* "sure," and I admitted I was not - but that I wasn't going to get it anyway.  I do have SOME self-control, after all.

THEN!  He printed my receipt, stamped the back, and said "well, you can get a grande iced drink for $2 with this receipt if you wait 6 more minutes."

Six.  More.  Minutes....  The very thing that I wanted which would have cost $3.66 had I not resisted earlier....and now they tell me I can save 45% on the very same thing if I wait 6 minutes.  Eek, resolve, stay with me.

If I make it through the day with the receipt remaining unused, not only will I have saved $2, but I will have saved 200 calories.  So, THANK YOU, Starbucks, for testing me!  I'm stronger for it!
Where's that blasted receipt, I really want a grande iced chai with non-fat milk, easy on the ice!

*I know I don't have to type "quote" if I actually use quotes, but I just like it.  Sue me.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

HP 7.2: It all ended 7/15/2011

Burbank was quite crowded the night before Harry Potter 7.2 ifficially opened.  I had to park a million miles away from the theater so I could walk to the ticket box and buy tickets for the NEXT night's showing (because A) I'm too cheap to pay the extra $1 per ticket to order them online and B) I'm not THAT much of a freak to see it at midnight on Thursday night).

When I did go to see Harry Potter on Friday night, I got there an hour ahead of time and was made to wait outside in an unlit alley way (one floor up from this one) that circled the building in some kind of "emergency exit only" section of the theater that the cops should have busted.  It was, in a word, a scary place to be waiting.  Trapped between concrete walls, no light, the only other human beings around you dressed for Quidditch.  However, I soon realized that these were the least threatening teenagers on the face of the planet.  Much like snakes, I safely assumed they were more frightened of me than I was of them.  So I attempted to read my book by the light of my smart phone for the hour.

The logical question: was it worth it?  OF COURSE it was worth it!  It's Harry freaking Potter, the end of an era!  But I refuse to spoil anything for anyone.  So go see it yourselves!

So what, I've seen Harry Potter 7.2 twice already. How many times do you think THIS GUY saw it?

Friday, July 15, 2011


Since I didn't get to go to New York, and since I had purchased tickets to see Harry Potter, I mean Daniel Radcliffe in How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying on Broadway, there was one extra ticket for my friend to take another friend with her.

And she chose an adorable little 9-year-old named Lillie who happens to love horses.  It was her first show, and she definitely convinced me that she enjoyed it with this Thank You note and self-drawn picture of her favorite part!  Not to mention a cute
Broadway T-shirt for my collection!  (Yes, I collect
Broadway Tees, what of it?)

Thank YOU, Lillie, for restoring my faith in mankind!

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Carmageddon! It's upon us!

Weight:  legitimately forgot to weigh in, but last time was Sunday, and that was a very nice x+15.  Then, I proceeded to eat out a lot.  A lot, a lot.  Like my weight in bread, hummus and frozen yogurt.  So who knows.  I say this so that, should I post again tomorrow, I won't think "My GOODNESS, how could I have gained 5 pounds by RUNNING last night?"  That doesn't help my self-esteem very much at all.

Onto the subject at hand:  This weekend, the 405 is closing for the 10.2 miles between the 101 and the 10.
That means that "carmageddon" is only directly affecting those who travel from the 101 south on the 405 to the 10 (or the opposite route as well).  But in reality, it's affecting THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!! 

If you're not a - Los Angelean, Los Angelite, Los Angeleno? - Los Angeleno, this may not sound believable, but oh, it is.   I live a few miles east of the 405, and a few miles north of the 101, safely outside of the line of fire, right?  Answer:  WRONG, NO ONE IS SAFE FROM CARMAGEDDON!

*I've driven 11 miles and had it take 2 hours and 20 minutes.  I can and have run 11 miles faster than that.  (Circumstances: Hollywood & Highland was deemed "a crime scene" on 9/11/2008 due to a car accident killing a cab driver.)

*I've driven 6 miles to meet for dinner and had it take OVER an hour. (Circumstances:  I was stupid and forgot about the Griffith Park Holiday Lights Exhibit and should have taken alternate routes, but it was too late.  BUT as recently as last month on an average Friday night, it took me 50 minutes to do the same route - a route which should only take 20!  And even that doesn't make sense for 6 miles in most places!)

*Last night, I drove 5.6 miles, and it took me 55 minutes.  Yeah, that's right, 55 minutes.  It was a Tuesday.  Nothing special, just a Tuesday.  (And yes, I passed the Hollywood Bowl, but that part wasn't even bad - it was stupid Barham, folks who are in the know!)

You think you have seen bad traffic.  You have never seen anything that will top the feats of Los Angelenos.  And this weekend, this very weekend, we will top ourselves. 

I'm literally scared to walk my dog around our block this weekend.  I'm going to the grocery store to stock up on supplies.  Unless I know your middle name, I'm not going to share my dog's toast with you.  I have to protect us from the impending doom.  (Eek, I knew I should have bought a disaster kit when that infomercial was advertising them!)

In short, beware Carmageddon.  No one is one.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Lady Di would DIE!

Weight: x+16 - superb victory against a week of comfort foods and no time for exercise.  However, it does make me face up to the denial I unsuccessfully attempted to have on Monday.

Just finished Newsweek's article about Lady Di at 50 (her facebook page, iPhone, tweets, etc).  Wowza.  What a creepy article.  Truly mystifying that they called that news.  I felt like I was reading Vanity Fair at best. 

However, it's worth noting that Lady Di's top favorite movie on her facebook page was, of course, Bridget Jones's Diary.

In general, I tend to be liberal leaning, but the whole freaking magazine was actually so unabashedly liberal, fake (like the Di article), and un-newsworthy that I have to question my subscription. Not to mention a really strange chart on page 71. (If you read it, you probably know the one I'm talking about.)

In other news, I guess Prince William and Princess Kate will be here in California this weekend.  Who cares.  All that really means to me is there might be some really bad traffic.

Monday, July 4, 2011

"Happy Colonial Rebellion Day!"

Weight: x + 0.  Have decided that having no scale handy is quite freeing!  Who's to say I have NOT reached my goal weight?  Let me have my moment of denial.

The first year I studied abroad at Oxford, we arrived on July 4th.  Our RA was a Brit, and he proudly (with a bit of a drunken slur) wished us all "Happy Colonial Rebellion Day!" followed shortly after with "To the Jesus College Pub!"* 

I've always loved that idea - that Brits would call our Independence Day "Colonial Rebellion Day."  I've since learned this is not universally acknowledged, but I hope it infects all of the UK so that one day, every Brit will wish passers-by a "happy colonial rebellion day" on July 4th.  Maybe in response, we could plan an Evander Holyfield / Mike Tyson level match-off for their so-called "Boxing Day."

*I should confess that I was a monstrous prude that year.  I wasn't quite 21 yet, and I refused to drink a sip of any alcoholic beverage until I properly turned 21 and was US-legally allowed to partake.  This cost me wine tasting in France when I was 18, not to mention a summer of being the least comfortable American at Oxford.  I don't know how anyone could stand me, honestly.  It is with this explanation that I confess I didn't at all like the drunken slur or "To the Jesus College Pub" follow-up (how dare you name a bar after our Savior?), at least not at the time my new RA said it.  I was an RA at home, and I would *never* have done that, clutching pearls.  Someone should have really just punched me in the face.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Please Don't Ask Me About My Vacation

Weight: x + one zillion pounds... though I'm just guessing as could not locate scale.  The extra zillion is all compliments of necessary comfort foods.

Truly one of the worst vacations in the history of vacations.  I got off the first flight of my vacation to find out that my father-figure Jeff's mother was in the hospital and that he had arranged for my aunt and uncle to pick me up from the airport.  I asked to be dropped off at the hospital, and I found Jeff with his family.  Things weren't looking good.  I got home around 11pm that night and tried to sleep with limited to no real success.  (This would soon become the theme for the week.)

I spent the next day at the hospital until the family decided it was time to move her to the hospice.  Oh, did I mention it's the same hospice where my mom and grandfather died?  Yeah. 

So we went to the hospice.  That night, Jeff wanted to stay at my house, but when we got there, the power was out (thanks, storm), so we went to his mother's (creepy) house where I got to sleep in a room with some kind of strange discarded hospital bed that resembles a torture device, at least it certainly does when you wake up and are disoriented.

I dropped any idea of going to New York as I love the heck out of Jeff and would rather be miserable with him than worry about him from afar.  So, especially don't ask me about New York: I did not go.

Tuesday, I noticed my left eye turning pink, and I thought "wha?  pink eye?  really?"  I was scared to death that I was single-handedly going to be responsible for spreading pink-eye through the hospice - not a place for people with strong immune systems.  Not to mention Jeff's family!  How would that look at the funeral?  "Oh poor thing, have you been crying?"  "No, I just have pink-eye."  Jeff told me I was crazy for suspecting it was anything other than eye irritation, then he later changed his mind.  He apparently just didn't want me to leave him to go to the doctor's office.

Wednesday, I went to the doctor's office.  Sorry, Jeff, I'm not contaminating you knowingly!  I didn't have pink-eye.  (See references to being a wee bit of a hypochondriac.)

We spent the whole week in the hospice.  Those are places where every day just gets worse.  (Pray to die in your sleep, quietly and peacefully, at the ripe old age of 105.)  Each day, you realize that your nerves are progressively becoming completely shot, and the calm you manage to hold together in the room erupts when you get home, resulting in crying and screaming fits.  You pray that you will have the strength to just not contact people you care about so as not to fly off the handle over nothing and hurt the relationships.  It can be a very lonely time.

Today, I woke up at 5:45am, and I swear, whether anyone will ever know for sure or not, something in the cosmos woke me up.  When I arrived at the hospice, things had certainly gotten worse, and I just knew that I hadn't imagined the feeling that morning.  We all gathered around Jeff's mom, and her soul was released on her journey to heaven this afternoon.  A trip to the funeral home later, the funeral was set for Sunday afternoon. 

I leave Monday afternoon.  I plan on making the 24 hours between those two events the most wonderful vacation ever.  I have no idea how, but don't doubt me.  I will channel my inner Bridget, through which there's no time limit on fun.  I will do this.  For Bridget Jones!  (Cheers!)

Still, the moral of the story:  Please don't ask me about my vacation.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Coffee, Tea or Me, Sir. Which will it be?

Weight: x+18...I must be REALLY muscular right now, because other than one miniscule slice of paper-thin crust pizza that I ate last night, I have been a saint in the dieting world.  This is clearly one of the greatest travesties of all time.

As I'll be making a whirlwind tour of the East Coast starting Saturday, I'm reflecting on what an excellent opportunity flights can be for finding wonderfully interesting eligible bachelors.  I'll be taking a grand total of THREE flights, giving me THREE opportunities to sit next to a stud. 

When picking my seat, I always consider which one will most likely have a singleton seated beside me.  For instance, if it's a row of three, pick an aisle that only has the window seat full so far.  Thus, you know you're not on a row with a married couple flying to their honeymoon.  If possible, pick the most "normal" flight times - don't pick a red-eye when you'll be flying with business men rushing home to their families, etc.  I do my best.  But somehow, despite my efforts, I always wind up next to the smelly, fat, grandpa of a guy who wants to know if that's a script I'm reading so he can promptly pitch me an idea or talk about that one time he spotted a celebrity.

Will this be my lucky trip?

And yes, I know it's sad that all of this is only too true.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Run, Bridget, Run!

Weight: x+16.5 (yeah, I'm counting half pounds, what of it?)

I'm back to running a million miles a few times a week, but it has yet to pay off on the scale.  That's ok.  I'm sure it's just becoming muscle....or possibly I'm balancing it out by eating banana bread by the loaf.  Either way, I bring up the running so that someone will remind me why my knees and hips hurt later on.  (Note: nothing hurts yet!)

Since no real progress has been made this year, I'd like to send a little note out to any and all beach/pool parties that I'm invited to this summer:

I regret to inform you that my abs will not be able to make it to your party.  They have a prior engagement with nutella.  In their place, they will be sending blubber.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Bridget on ADD

Weight:  x+17.  Seriously!  I resisted SO MUCH YUMMY FOOD!  I only had one tiny little sliver of a THIN crust piece of cheese pizza....and a few pita chips in hummus....and a few slices of banana bread....made into a nutella sandwich.  (Just kidding on the last one, though I considered it.)

Bridget had a "boy" version of ADD.  As in her attention could only be held by boys.  She often would obsess over Daniel Cleaver, and most of the work day was spent limiting how many times she could think of him per hour - which, in turn, meant spending the whole hour thinking about him or thinking about NOT thinking about him, which was still just plain thinking of him.

Likewise, I get a little distracted while I work.  It's only made worse by there not being much work to do lately.  Still, in my free time (which I have some now, thanks to not working as much, yeay!), I should be writing.

When it comes to writing, everyone knows that the first step to writing is cleaning your apartment.  Then, cleaning out your closet.  Sorting the recycling, scrubbing the kitchen floors, dusting, vacuuming, taking out the trash. Then making sure you have watched everything on your DVR, because if that backs up, what a nightmare!  Then, getting your oil changed, obviously blogging (wink)...and the list goes on.  Writers have the cleanest homes and are the most organized people I know.  You know, except for the ones making a living at writing.  Except for them.

So, here's a moment in the life of my brain, as I delay writing.

I think the new flooring I picked out for my living room is going to be too dark.  Maybe I should look for light colored rugs on Overstock...hmm.  Or look at new paint.  New paint could definitely make the room feel lighter.  Damn, my painter's phone has been disconnected. - painters, Burbank....hmm.  None of these painters are answering.  Never mind.  Maybe the flooring will be ok.  If it's not, maybe I can paint when I get back and have time to think about it more.  I mean, I did make a snap decision on the current paint and have been hating it ever since.  But then, if I delay until I get back, I won't be able to put stuff back in the living room until even later.  Hmm.  Why was I on Overstock?  Oh, rugs.  Right.  Living room, Dining room, runner....where to start.  I hope they really will be finished with the flooring by Friday afternoon since I leave Saturday.  I leave Saturday...  While I'm in Georgia again, I should really get people together to watch the pilot since they won't see it otherwise.  Where would I screen it?  If I screen it, will people come?  It's already less than a week from the only weekend night I'll be in town.  And if I screen it at a house, my house is a wreck.  Literally, I think my aunt has called a demolition team...or perhaps organized a seance.  I'm not really sure, but she definitely thought that it was a wreck that needed to be dealt with via the phone last week.  (Note: it could not be dealt with via the phone.  I am not telekinetic.  I know this because I have tested my powers thoroughly.)  I could have the screening in the old furniture store building on the square maybe....but would people come to Henry County?  If I do it, what should I serve?  Google: McDonough, GA caterers.  Where would I get chairs, a big TV, food, beverages, etc....where would they park?  ....why am I on again? 


Maybe I should start writing.  It is midnight after all.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

More Tasty Fruits

Weight: x+15, but that's only after running a million miles...and today's eating is sure to destroy any and all progress.

Today's edition is a tasty fruit that I have no interest in eating at all.  But I think my friend likes them, so I made them for her birthday!  (Spoiler alert if you're Kelly, and you're reading this before your party.)  I don't know what it is about strawberries that I don't like.  Oh wait, yes I do.  It's the seeds on the outside that grosses me out.  So, maybe I WOULD like a chocolate covered one.  Who knows!

Of course, I also made my favorite tasty fruit again, but it didn't turn out quite as well as last time.  I did a better job mashing the bananas, so I opted out of using the hand mixer.  I thought that would add a nice level of texture instead of plain old "bread" consistency.  Well, not so much.  It's edible, and some might even prefer it, but I think I'll use the mixer next time personally.  Oh well.

Enjoy drooling.

Bridget says "Hmm.  So that's what ovens are for, not for drying clothes after falling into a lake where I was reciting Keats with Daniel Cleaver.  Interesting.  But I think I'd prefer my banana bread to have a bluish hue."

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Tasty Fruits

Weight: x+16, a little progress...and it only took a bit of running and a hike!  (And a bit of pizza eating, to balance out.)

I didn't finish eating all of my bananas this week, so I thought it might be a good time to attempt one of my favorite treats when other people (like Starbucks) make it for me:  Banana bread with chocolate chips.

Results!  And yes, it was missing the middle slice when I took it out of the oven.  It must be a pan defect.

This new diet of more fruits and veggies is really working out for me!  Mmm, bananas...

(What?  Bridget totally thinks this counts.)

Thursday, June 9, 2011

A Good Start

Weight: x+17...but not Monday's x+19 which went unreported for obvious reasons.  It was the result of two nights of eating pizza.  (Note:  That is not the good start I'm referring to.)

As anyone who has ever dieted knows, a diet requires two things:  change and will power.  So naturally, being light in the will power arena, the first step toward both requirements is to eat the entire contents of your fridge: everything, that is, which does not measure up to the new diet plan. 

Yes, the first step to dieting is eating all of your ice cream.  I repeat, eating ALL of your ice cream.

Carrot juice, yogurt with granola,
bananas, and baby carrots.  Oh my.
I've been off to a great start in that department.  :-)

But now, it's week 2, and I have to actually eat the new healthy replacements my credit card was only too kind to buy for me.

So please take a look at this week's snacks.  Notice how none of them are pretzel M&Ms.  Oh, the sacrifice.

PS - should also note that while typing up this blog, have been pumping up (with my foot, I kid you not, multi-tasking) one of those better posture core fitness work out balls (can you tell I have no idea what they are actually called) that I will now be sitting on for the rest of the day.  Or at least a few minutes.  Bridget would be proud.

* Dear nervous friends, please note that my diet is not actually to lose weight as I represent it here in my blog (for the fun of it).  It's actually so that I don't die of scurvy, blinded by glaucoma.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

June 1st - New shot at resolutions

Weight: x+18, but I'm only 24 hours away from an all eating-out holiday weekend, folks.  Be forgiving. 

To say I've stuck with my resolution to only eat one frozen meal a day is to take a very bold stance on the definition of a frozen meal.  For instance, does that include my frozen fake bacon strips if I make them into a fake bacon sandwich?  Is it possible that a frozen breakfast doesn't count as such if it's eaten for dinner?

Well, I'm going to vote no on both accounts...meaning I'm a failure.

Since I view each first of the month as a new opportunity to make a resolution, here goes.  Let's renew the eating better ones. 

See the water bottle, proving it
MUST really be my counter.

* Have at least one meal a day that doesn't come from the freezer and/or require the microwave.
*Remember that skinny girls do not eat pretzels dipped in nutella for dinner.
*Stop mistaking cereal for vegetable.
*Don't eat movie theater soft pretzel instead of meal.

I went to the grocery store, walked down all the aisles, and tried to get some new foods that I NEVER eat that would be semi-healthier.  Friends, I kid you not.  
Here are the results....

But now it's after 9pm, and I just think I'll eat a bowl of cereal and be done with it. (Yes, I do this knowing that cereal is not a vegetable).  Too much energy went into shopping.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Weight:  Forgot to weigh in...sue me.

Last night, I went to a Parks & Rec screening/Q&A.  My personal highlight was when I was waiting outside before it even started.  We had seen Amy Poehler going through the press for pictures and interviews.  I turned and said "Adam Scott WILL be here," to will it into being true.  And sure enough, the next thing that I saw was Adam Scott walking up.  What!  I control the universe!

Then, during the Q&A, I was brainstorming the best questions I could ask, knowing I would never ask any of my questions.
(1) Adam Scott, how are you so cute?
(2) Hi, Adam.  Um, whatcha up to later???
(3) Adam, on the show your character Ben seems to like Blondes.  Is that something you share with him?  (Twirl blonde hair)

One track mind, you see.

But it was interesting that one girl asked about Leslie Knope's unswerving optimism.  In truth, that's why I love the show.  Everyone else around her might be cynical, but she inspires them to see the world as she sees it.  A big lump of clay that can be molded into the most beautiful sculpture ever.  Love it.

Friday, May 20, 2011


Weight: x+17.  Must face facts honestly and attack them head-on.

Had great plan to get back on track, complete with following through on resolution to eat breakfast.  After all, it's the most important meal of the day.  Then, would be full from breakfast and not binge on Pretzel M&Ms all day. 

However, plan was just thwarted by Disney giving out free cupcakes for the premiere of Pirates of the Caribbean.  What! 

Is there any chance that "free" is short for calorie-free?  That seems logical enough.  Ok, maybe it doesn't, but I really want to eat this cupcake!

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Weight: bluh...

Ok, now they are just mocking me. I requested specifically that Kate Spade make a Pride and Prejudice clutch, AND send me one for free for giving them the genius idea that would make them so much money. And now I see this!?!?,default,pd.html?dwvar_PXRU2420-1_color=962&start=13&cgid=handbags-clutches

Kate, this hurts.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Bridget on Horoscopes

Weight: x+16, but fully believe all in good places.  Like chocolate, for example.  Maybe a little pizza, but mainly chocolate.

This Bridget wanna-be doesn't quite buy into the whole "horoscope" thing.  That is, unless someone reads it to me and it says something awesome that I want to hear.  Then, Bridget and I would agree whole-heartedly: it's obviously correct.

This month, that's exactly what happened.  My friend pointed me to my horoscope for this month which said I would have good news and reason to celebrate on May 17th (the day we find out if our pilot is getting picked up to series). 

It also said a whole lot of things about love and finding a soul-mate this month.  I told my friend "apparently I'm going to diet and exercise a lot this month, ha."  "Your horoscope said that?"  "No, but it said I was going to find my true love.  Same thing."

Taken from

Thursday, May 5, 2011

The Unbearable Kate-ness of Movies

It would seem that every year, Kate Hudson comes out with a movie that is unbearable to watch.  And I go to watch them in the theater.  This year, it's going to be Something Borrowed.  Or as my friend I'm going to go see it with calls it, "you know, that one with the blonde and the brunette, and that guy you like from The Office."  (Crystal, you might have said John Krasinski by name, I can't remember.)

For those of you who don't know, Something Borrowed is about a lawyer-friend (Ginnifer Goodwin) who doesn't have self-confidence so she never stands up to her "best friend" (Kate Hudson) about how she's stolen everything out from under her all of her life - most recently Kate's fiance.*  Oh, but don't worry.  Where we start, all we do is see Ginny get her groove back and steal Kate's fiance.  Yes, he's a chess piece, guys.  In 3rd grade, he'd be that glitter bracelet I let [X cheerleader, NS] borrow, and when I asked for it back, she said "ok, but then we won't be friends anymore."  (To which I said, "ok, can I have it back then?")

While talking to another friend about it, she just didn't understand why these people would be friends and treat each other so poorly.  (Score for being a better friend than them, Sarah!)  Or how you could be about to marry someone that's so horrible and KNOW it.  My only answer is that I kinda think that's more common in life than you'd think.  People don't stand up for themselves, girls and guys alike stay together and get married because they've been together so long, and "best friends" are sometimes the people that hurt you the most.  (Not mine, of course.)

On that happy note, I guess go see a horrible movie with Kate Hudson in it.  Or the terrorists win.

*Note: I really don't know how they got John Krasinski to be in this movie, and I think they are promoting him being in it because he's the only likable character.  Ok, so I read the book, what of it?

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Bridget on Shoes

Weight: x+16 and growing....left-over pizza in the fridge?  Yes please!

I firmly believe that my death will be caused by high-heels. 

I refuse to wear anything that is less than 3.5 inches high (at least out in public - and out in public included walking the dog, a funny picture when you remember that I walk my dogs in my pajamas).  In fact, it's walking my dog in high heels, specifically, that I fear will kill me.

My dog likes to loop herself around trees, take a step off the sidewalk into the street, and in general not mind me.  One of the streets we walk on has been known to have fast-moving traffic.  (In fact, Sandy and I walked past a motorcycle cop with a speed gun this morning.)  Sandy doesn't seem to be bothered by the traffic and still loops around every tree, street post, "Now Leasing" sign, and sprinkler that dares to spray her.  I follow her so as not to have to take her off the leash and lose what small semblance of control I have over her. 

One day, the perfect storm will occur:  Sandy loops around a tree, I follow her, I slip in recently-sprinkled grass due to high heels, my neck falls under car tires.  Eek!

I've lived a good life.  Let my tombstone read "if only she had been 5'8" without heels."

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Bridget gets Political

"What do you think of this situation in Chechnya, isn't it a nightmare?"
"I couldn't give a f^*&, Jones."

I'm sure Bridget would probably do this over drinks with Daniel Cleaver after practicing saying "Osama" a few times in the mirror to make sure she's nailing the pronunciation, but here goes...a very rare political comment from me.

I remember a day when a President I didn't vote for, who lost the popular vote while winning the electoral college, announced to us all that he was going to go after the ******* who killed 3,000 American civilians.  I remember cheering for him.  Didn't everyone?

So, now another President, one I did vote for, who recently proved he is in fact a US citizen, announced to us all that he got that ******* who killed 3,000 American civilians.  I'm cheering again.  Why isn't everyone?

Osama bin Laden was neither a Republican nor a Democrat.  He attacked us for everything that both parties hold dear.  If you want to let his death tear us up over party lines, then in the most over-used words of that former President, "the terrorists win."

It's a good day to be an American.

Bridget on The Royal Wedding

If I were truly Bridget Jones, I'm sure I would have watched the Royal Wedding Friday morning.  She'd have had friends over, and they'd all drink mimosas (and when she ran out of OJ, just straight booze).  Jude would have brought over lady fingers with raspberry jam. Shaz would have come over, under protest, to argue about how wasteful all of the fashion and ceremony (all of which she knew by heart and in great detail) were to the tax-payer's money.  No doubt, all three would be drooling over the idea of being a princess.  A real princess.

However, I couldn't have cared less about the whole thing and didn't set my alarm clock OR DVR so I could watch the ceremony.  Nope, I just went about life as if it were a normal day.  Because it was.  I wonder if I'll live to regret that one day.  I remember watching a tape my mom made of Princess Diana's wedding. (Gosh, is that possible, to have had a VCR then?)  I know she got together with a friend to watch it live and probably ate something very British while doing so.  Why is it so different this go-round?  I know plenty of people who were into the wedding, but personally, I didn't care at all.  And when I saw unavoidable clips in the news, all I could think was "I'd have fallen on my face or embarrassed myself in some way.  Thank goodness I won't ever be a princess."

Well, I guess Bridget and I have that in common at least.  Falling down a lot.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Bridget on Hockey

At work, overhearing talk about hockey games... (PS - didn't we all vow to stop caring about hockey when we lost to Canada in the Winter Olympics last year?)

"How about that game?"
"A real nail-biter."
"How about that [player I can't remember]?"
"Yeah, he used to be our closer."

At some point around this time, they notice me - silent in the corner of the room.

"Kelley, are you into hockey?"  (Sarcasm noted)
Me:  "Oh absolutely.  You know, with the hip checks and the three periods and, I'm not into hockey."

They do know that hockey players lose their teeth to stray pucks and that girls like boys to have ALL of their teeth when they smile at us sheepishly, right?

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

10 Year Anniversary of Bridget Jones's Diary! (Movie)

I must make you all aware that you've been thinking about Daniel Cleaver asking Mark Darcy if he should 'bring his dueling pistol or his sword' outside, Bridget sliding down a fireman's pole on national television (good thing it's a rather small country), Bridget's enormous panties/short skirt/see-thru blouse, and lastly Bridget's bunny suit (Bop-bop!) for TEN YEARS! 

How is that possible, you ask?  How could it possibly be only ten years that you've had those images in your head?  It's like trying to figure out what we did before the internet.  Or how we survived without cell phones.  It's impossible to figure out, and we just have to praise our respective deities for saving us from our lives before Bridget.

So, before the end of the month, PLEASE celebrate 10 Years of Bridget Jones by doing something that only Bridget Jones, "wanton sex goddess with a very bad man between her thighs," would do!  I expect the stories of your adventures in the comments section!  Either that, or your favorite Bridget Quote...

A few of my favorite Bridget Quotes:
(1) At times like this, continuing with one's life seems impossible, and eating the entire contents of one's fridge seems inevitable.
(2) Obviously will lose 20 pounds, number two...
(3) Will not be defeated by a bad man and an American stick-insect. This time I choose vodka, and Chaka Khan.
(4) The only thing worse than smug married couple: lots of smug married couples.
(5) Wait a minute. Nice men don't kiss like that.

A few of my favorite non-Bridget Quotes:
(1) Outside?  Should I bring my dueling pistol or my sword? (Clearly...)
(2) Just as you are? Not thinner? Not cleverer? Not with slightly bigger breasts or a slightly smaller nose?
(3) FIGHT. Come on, it's a real fight.
(4) There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm wearing something quite similar myself.  Here, let me show you...
(5) Bridget works in publishing and used to run around naked in my paddling pool.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Bridget on the 5 Stages

Weight:  x+15....sigh.

Have come to realize that I've entered the 5 stage of Being Fat.

Denial:  Am not fat.  Am big boned.  Also, jeans have shrunk in the wash.  Am not going to have to buy new clothes and/or wear fat jeans.  Just need to add hour into daily schedule to properly "stretch" jeans prior to wearing them out in public.

Anger: How dare doctor say I need to lose weight!  Maybe if weren't in LA where everyone is supposed to be a stick-insect, would not be considered obese.  Doctor needs to take a look in the mirror!

Bargaining:  Ok, let's be reasonable here.  If I do a few lunges, maybe a couple crunches here and there, and promise not to eat ice cream sandwiches anymore, I should still be able to eat nutella with pretzels as dinner one night a week.  That's fair, right?

Depression:  Ugh.  No one will ever love me.  Might as well embrace it and dive into Party-sized Pretzel M&M bag. 

Acceptance:  Whoever said 'nothing tastes as good as being thin feels' must be allergic to chocolate.  Chocolate will never let me down.  Bring on the fat jeans.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Bridget off the wagon

As a result of lots of wanting to stab people, I thought it might be smart to go back to my original plan and ask myself WWBJD.  Turns out, Bridget would turn to the bottle for comfort.  That and Chaka Khan.  Texted friend "Hey, you like to drink, right?"  Answer was affirmative.

First (and last) drink choice:  Margarita.  Very, very nice.  And none of that "skinny girl margarita."  What the heck is the point?  If I wanted something with no calories, I'd drink water, thank you.  After so long, no one will be surprised to hear that one drink was enough to knock me over.  I continued licking the salt off the rim past the point of there being any left.

*Math nerd moment - Last drink was over a year ago on birthday, which is the fifteenth day of the first month. Went exactly 15 months and 1 day.  Reciprocal relationship with sobriety...I'm not going to read into that.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Weight: x+16.  Wowza.  Current goal is to enter weekend back at square one.  Square one being x+15.  I think that sounds fair.

Ugh, why do I always want to stab people with my heels?  I'm wearing my cross necklace today which usually calms me down.  Rubbing it today has effectively led to no homicides...yet.  I'm thinking of shutting my door to the rude jerk that makes me want to stab him.  It's totally ok in a work environment to say "hey, you can call me, email me, IM me, but you CANNOT come down and stand in my personal space yelling at me while eating a bagel I BOUGHT," am I right?  I think I'm right.

In other news, did flirt, and it amounted to us both saying "you're cute" "you're cuter..."  Progress, I think.  No mention of non-existent skirt being off sick.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Bridget on Working Late

Weight:  Oh, give me a break already.  Can't a girl eat?  What am I supposed to do?  Eat healthier things than going-away cake and whatever snacks happen to be lying around the office?  Oh, right.  Supposed to do those things.  Does sound reasonable...hmm.

8pm on a Tuesday....was supposed to be at free screening of comedy movie, but instead, at work.  Remembering how just two short weeks ago, was at work all hours of the day and night.  One significant difference:  Stephanie and Johnny Mac fed me there.  I miss them!  Where's my Chick-fil-a sandwich?  I need my extra-hot mocha!

In other news, attempted very lame flirting technique (that is, not really flirting at all) that proved completely ineffectual.  Am not talented in the ways of flirtation.  I can only master being friendly.  Oy, must channel inner-Bridget.

Extra hot mocha reference...

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Bridget Over-Analyzes

Just realized Set Crush was revealed on April Fool's Day.  Am I an April Fool?  Hmm.  Bridget would agree, there is room to doubt.  Let's think about it daily for the next 3 months and go back and forth between decisions, never accomplishing anything.

In other news, freedom of not weighing in gave me the confidence to fully eat my feelings today!  Hooray!  Thank you, Disney commissary, for having Haagen Daz mini-cups of one of my favorite flavors - Caramel Cone.  I mean, had they been quarts, I would have eaten that too, but mini-cups...that hit the spot.  Will stop eating my hair now.

I think Bridget says it best: "At times like this, continuing with one's life seems impossible, and eating the entire contents of one's fridge seems inevitable."

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Bridget on the "Set Crush"

Weight:  x+17.  Thanks to bringing Porto's Pastries to the office Monday to welcome new neighbors I had never met.  Mistake.  They didn't show up, and with the help of the whopping TWO office-mates, we pretty much ate for TEN.

I've already talked a little about my experiences on the set of "X TV Show."  My official role on the set was the often overlooked role of "Head of Guest Services" as well as "Chief Twitterer."  In other words, I had no real responsibility.  Which left me PLENTY of time to chat with everyone, learn all 147 people's names, remember who had a twin sister, who won last year's fantasy football league, who likes white mochas vs. vanilla lattes, learn a new game that you can NOT be me at, research who was the prankster putting sandbags in someone's bag, break up a fight, and in all other ways "be social." 

Amid all of this "being social," I discovered a bit of male attention which is quite unusual for little me who barely interacts with humans.  Apparently, there's something called a "set crush," and on the last day on set, I was told point blank I was the subject of one.  I might be glorifying it a tad by comparing it to the "just a girl, standing in front of a boy" scene in Notting Hill.  Or better yet, the end of the dinner scene "I like you, just the way you are" in BJD.  But still, when was the last time that someone simply said "I like you?"  At our age, it's more like "if you ask me how I feel, I'll make a joke out of it to protect myself."

So, I ask you, universe, how is that fair?  Now I'm back in LA, and I'm sure the next male attraction I receive will be from a dog trying to mount my pup.  (She's quite popular at the dog park.)

Monday, April 4, 2011

Bridget on Saying Goodbye

Weight:  x+16 = still considering it an accomplishment not to have gained more....

So, I survived until April!  Hooray!  But I had no idea how much I was going to miss all of the folks who've been with me for the last month that I term "hell-month." 

We wrapped our shoot on Friday around 10pm.  I struggled for a good half-hour, thinking up things I needed to do that were NOT "pack my bag and leave."  I didn't want to go!  It was 10pm on a Friday night, and I did not for the life of me want to get into my car and drive away from work.  I missed everyone before I even left.  I missed long hours, I missed unhealthy food (and sometimes uncooked food).  I just missed it all.  Every day since 1/14/11, what I've really missed most is sleep.  But since 4/1/11, all I've missed is the 147 people who made my experience so fulfilling. 

In summary, I kind of want to move back to Georgia.  But only kind of.  This too shall pass.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Weight: x+16, which is actually quite impressive since I've been around the Craft Services table far too much.

An interesting thing has happened.  I had my first crush in a LOOOONG time.  It lasted almost a whole two days before I realized that the subject of my crush was exactly like all of the other crushes I've ever had in my life that led to exactly the same problem: the guy's secretly kind of a jerk.

Apparently, I have a type.  What I call "blond as babies" coloring, not overly muscular, well-spoken, professional, educated, and someone I can banter with.  Then, without fail, the combo leads to being a bit of a jerk. 

Exhibit A: within a few hours of conversation, having realized crush was semi-interested as well, I discovered he was a writer who wanted to talk about studying abroad in London in front of people who didn't have passports while talking about buying the new iPad 2.  What seals the deal is that he also wore running shoes that can track your heart-rate, etc, but he doesn't run.  Turn off...

So is this the sad truth: do I only like jerks?

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Drunken Thoughts: Volume One

*New series of which I label thoughts that I think are vaguely interesting "drunken" when I was, in fact, actually stone cold sober (as, sadly, always am stone cold sober).  The term "drunken" is being applied should you think it's far too trivial that I write these down while being sober.  Or should you think I'm a sick perverted b@$#@&d.

While hating someone, I realized that it's silly to hate the people around me who are, for the most part, not Hitlers.  I should instead hate people that I don't even know.  Or better still, not hate anyone I know because it's not worth the energy.  Sure, the people around me that I intensely dislike and would like to perhaps stab with my high heels do deserve those feelings.  But how much more does a terrorist that I've never met deserve it?  I should really save that kind of punishment for them.  And since I will probably never meet them, I should probably just forget about hating people and/or stabbing anyone with my high heels.  Let's see how long this lasts.  I'm wagering 2 weeks max.