Lately there’s been something swimming around in my brain. Something I’ve heard about before but kind of forgot about, or didn’t pay much attention to. But I keep hearing it, and I’m starting to think it makes a lot of sense. It has to do with the power of want. Wanting something is the first step towards getting it. And if you keep focusing your mind on getting it, usually you will. That’s the theory, anyway. It’s something about energy, and changing the energy around us — weird invisible spooky energy stuff we don’t think much about. But we should, because it can change our lives.

Well, I want something really badly. It took me way too long to realize just how badly I want it, but I know now, and that’s the first step to getting it. So for the sake of getting what I want, I’m going to announce it. On the internet. I feel really silly, but I’m doing it, and if you all could take a second to think about me doing this thing I want — just one second, or longer if you want to — I would be forever grateful.

I want to be an actor. On TV. On a brilliant comedy show, like The Office or Arrested Development. I watch those shows over and over, and I know I was made to be on a show like that. So, I’m asking you to please just take a moment to picture me walking on the set of one of those shows, if you’re familiar with them. Picture me walking in, in character, taking off my jacket, and talking to one of the other characters, preferably saying something hilarious. If you don’t know those particular shows, just picture me on your favorite one, or even just showing up on your TV screen, waving and laughing and saying, “I DID IT! I’M ON TV!”

I think some people look at acting as a selfish job, because it’s so fun. I kind of used to think so, too. But now I realize it’s exactly the opposite. We all have a responsibility to do what we enjoy most, because only then can we be happy and whole, and until we’re whole, we can’t share parts of ourselves with others. Or something like that. I just want to get up every day and feel excited about going to work. I want to laugh a lot, every day, and be a part of creating something I’m proud of. I want to feel like I’m part of something that makes other people laugh, something people can relate to.

This is something I want, and I’m admitting it. I might fail. It might never happen. But I’m not going to pretend I don’t want it, because I do. I know I’m good enough, and I know it’s possible. And now I’ve got at least a second of your focused, positive energy in my corner, and I won’t be surprised if something happens sooner than we think, thanks to you.

In conclusion, since this post has been all about me, if you want something, leave a comment or email me, and I’ll picture you doing it, or getting it — as long as it has nothing to do with killing puppies.

I have a chest cold. So does everyone in my whole office. I’m coughing up gross green stuff.
***

I bought a cannister of chai tea on my lunch break, but it tastes like ass. Below is an IM conversation about it:

me: ugh, i just got a big cannister of chai from TJs and it tastes like ass
co-worker: ass chai?
me: yes, i thought it was vanilla but i guess it was ass
co-worker: damn, i always get those confused
me: me too

***

I woke up with a crink in my neck, and it’s still there. It’s so hard to drive with one of those going on, because you have to swivel your whole body to check your blind spot before merging. My morning commute is packed full of well-strategized merges, after careful study to determine which lane is fastest per every 20-meter stretch of road. But my rhythm was all off this morning because of the neck thing, and I got caught in the slow lane for a handful 20-meter chunks.

***

On my lunch break after I bought the ass chai at the market (I’ve always said “grocery store,” but “market” sounds more friendly to me, so I officially change my vocabulary, starting NOW), I went to the bookstore (OK, Barnes & Noble, but “the bookstore” sounds more cute and local, so let’s pretend).

Two things we need to discuss here. #1: Do you know how many Chicken Soup for the Soul books there are? Like a hundred million billion. There’s a Chicken Soup for the Cat Lover’s Soul, a Chicken Soup for the Dog Lover’s Soul, and even… a Chicken Soup for the Cat and Dog Lover’s Soul. Because you don’t just love cats or just love dogs, you love both, and your soul needs some very, very specific chicken soup. My favorite, though, is the one called Chicken Soup for the Scrapbooker’s Soul. I am not making this up. Since when does someone who makes scrapbooks need inspirational quotes about… making scrapbooks? I think if someone’s main sense of identity is that of a “scrapbooker,” well… their soul is gonna need a lot more than chicken soup.

#2: How did the Sedarises get all the funny in the USA? They are all SO Funny! I’ve always been a giant fan of David’s writing and Amy’s acting, and today in the cute family-run bookstore (we’re playing pretend, remember?) I saw a big, purty hardcover book Amy wrote called I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence. Just flipping through and looking at the pictures of her made me laugh aloud.

***

Yesterday a butterfly was chasing another butterfly outside my window at work. I work on the 10th floor, so it was kind of weird that they were up so high. I think they were playing a mating game. Maybe they flew up that high to try and get some privacy from the other butterfles. I guess they don’t mind if humans watch.

Speaking of my office window, sometimes a bird comes and sits on the windowsill and chirps to get my attention. And the minute I go, “Awwww, looook, Hi, Birdie!” he poops and flies away.

***

And Finally, Go Democrats! Go Britney! I think of the nation as a big ship that hit something and got jostled over kind of on its side, and all the furniture and people went skittering over all out of whack, but now, with the Dems taking over congress and Britney dumping K-Fed and washing her hair, the ship has popped back upright, and all the crew are dusting themselves off and returning the furniture back to where it goes, and the passengers are headed back to the bar for another cocktail, because whew, we thought the boat was sinking there for a while, and we’re still a little shaken, but it looks like the captain finally sobered up and we’re all going to be OK.

Saturday night was my big Halloween party night, and, well… I was kind of underwhelmed. The highlight of the evening wasn’t even the party, it was the preparty at my friend Mike’s house, where we played a drinking game. The actual party we went to was at a bar, and the costumes were so lame and unoriginal I wanted to die of visual boredom. Back in college there were always a bunch of really creative costumes, so it was fun to walk around and look at them all. But on Saturday night, aside from my friends, all it was was guys dressed up as girls or pirates (except for a few, who were all Steve Zissou from The Life Aquatic), and girls dressed up as “slutty fill in the blank.” There were 2 slutty policewomen in the same exact $50 store-bought costume and at least 3 slutty nurses in the same store-bought nurse costume. Only a few people even noticed what my friend Jonathan and I were (Jonbenet Ramsey and John Mark Karr) (See Appendix A). I put so much time and energy into that costume, and I feel like it got pretty much wasted.

So I guess the cool thing to do, even though, guess what? we’re not in college anymore, is to wear the most hookerish getup possible, then pretend it’s a legitimate costume. I guess Halloween is the one night when girls all have an excuse to dress like ho’s. But all the normal slutty things have been done. And done. And done. And done some more. So next year I’m going to be a slutty traffic cone, or a slutty table, or doorknob, or computer. The boys won’t know what hit ‘em.

Appendix A:

At my elementary school, we used to sing a fantastic Halloween song around this time of year. Don’t you wish we could still do that kind of stuff? I wish a bell would ring at my office at 2pm every day, and we would all go down to “Music,” and sit in wooden desks and on carpet squares, and sing season-specific songs, and if we were really lucky we might get a turn on the glockenspiel, and if we were the luckiest person in the world, we could bang the gong! (By the way, my Elementary school was called Bell School, and our music teacher’s name was Mrs. Bell. So a bell at Bell would ring, signalling time for Mrs. Bell).

Anyway, so then at Christmas in my ideal office environment, we would all take hours a day to go rehearse for the annual Corporate Towers Christmas program. Each company in the building would do one number centered around a theme, which would usually either be “Christmas Around the World” or “Christmas Through the Decades.” Also, we would all participate in one Hanukah song, which might also involve sign language, just to cover our bases.

Then on the week before Valentine’s day, we would all decorate little bags or boxes, write our names on them, and tape them to our desks, and then exchange Valentines and eat goodies! I would probably do Harry Potter Valentines this year.

Alas, something tells me my company does not plan to participate in such activities, but have hope! I remember the words to my favorite elementary school Halloween song, and I will show you the lyrics. If you ask me, I will also sing it for you.

Have you seen the ghost of John?
Long white bones with the skin all gone
Oooooooh, Poor John!
Wouldn’t it be chilly with no skin on!?

I was looking at some stuff saved on my computer, and I came across this IM conversation I had with my mom a while back:

me: i’m headed to san diego tonight for elise’s birthday shindig tomorrow
me: we’re going wine tasting in Temecula

mom: Isn’t that Mexico?

me: no, your’e thinking Tijuana :)

mom: PLEEEEEEEEASE be very careful with my daughter!

me: i will be!

mom: You driving alone? Wear a hat, so your profile will look like a man.

me: hahaha, i’m not going to mexico!!!!
me: hahahaha

I’m trying to be positive here. The truth is, last year I had a pretty sucky fall & winter. It wasn’t fall or winter’s fault, but the short days and gloom didn’t really help matters. I like the crispness in the air in fall, but not as much as I like warm sunshine. Too many gray days depress me, and I don’t have enough shoes that I can wear with socks. I would say I love the beautiful changing leaves, but in Southern California we have none.

But there’s good stuff about the changing seasons, right? I’m going to try to find some, and list them here. OK, here goes:

I can wear my cute wool winter skirts with my cute black boots and cute sweaters — oh, and scarves.

I can wear my favorite medium-weight corduroy jacket with a furry hood (not real fur, of course. It’s like teddy bear fur).

OK, something that’s not about clothes… Um, OK, this might sound weird, but I like the sound of a football game on TV in the background. It’s somehow comforting.

Shopping for Halloween costumes

Tasty holiday food

Fires in the fireplace (ooh, that was a good one).

Bubble baths (another good one)

Christmas songs, specifically from the Chipmunks Christmas album

Lights and snow at the Grove

Bears are hibernating and do not pose a threat

No cockroaches

I can go hiking, then go shopping afterward without being all sweaty and gross (I know, because I tried it yesterday)!

Hot chocolate with a dollop of butterscotch schnapps (Try it and you will not regret it. But just a dollop, mind you. Otherwise it’s too sweet).

Outdoor jacuzzis — It works best if it’s snowing on your head.

Skiing, or snowboarding if that’s your game

Again, I really can’t say enough about bears sleeping peacefully.

OK, That’s it! Happy Fall, Peeps.

Am I crazy for liking the song “Infra Red” by Placebo? It’s so catchy! BUT… As far as I can tell, it’s all about creepy stalker violence — um, not my usual cup ‘o tea. Have you seen the video? I like the beginning with the badass dude in the car, but as soon as they start showing bugs I have to stop watching. Watch it on You-Tube here, if you don’t mind disgusting bugs.

That brings me to the next seemingly out-of-character thing I’ve liked recently. A few weekends ago I had sat all weekend doing absolutely nothing. Jeff had been off jet-setting somewhere, so when he came over on Sunday to hang out, he wanted to relax, but I was stir-crazy and couldn’t wait to get out of the house. I wanted to go to a movie, and my first choice was naturally Little Miss Sunshine, but Jeff wanted to see the latest action-adventure blockbuster-y type of thing. I typically steer clear of that genre; car crashes and gratuitous violence = not my style. BUT, I reeeeally wanted to get out of the house, and so I eagerly agreed to go see Crank. And y’all, it was so good! Not only was the lovely and talented Amy Smart knock-your-socks-off adorable, the whole thing was hilarious! I felt like I was on a roller coaster the whole time — like a fun, old-fashioned amusement park roller coaster, where I just scream and laugh really hard the whole time.

And speaking of laughing really hard, my new favorite movie is, and you will not believe this: She’s the Man, starring Amanda Bynes. The whole thing is toooootally ridiculous, but so so so so funny. Amanda’s accent and facial expressions when her character Viola is pretending to be a boy are SO hilarious — I can’t explain it. And as a special treat, David Cross from Arrested Development (May it rest in peace) plays the ridiculous high school principal. There’s one scene in which he calls Viola (disguised as Sebastian) into his office and sings, “Welcome Welcome Welcome Welcome, Welcome Welcome Welcome Welcome Welcome Welcome Welcome Welcome to Ilyriaaaa!!!” At one point I had to pause the movie just because I was laughing so hard. And to add icing to the already tasty cake, if you watch the special DVD features, there’s a section where the director talks about little things from Twelfth Night they added in that you otherwise might not notice (because the movie is loosely based on that Shakespeare play, in case you didn’t know).

Aaaanyway, here’s to enjoying things, and laughing! By the way, I’m off to Chicago tomorrow for work. It’s my first business trip. Hahahaha! I’m taking a business trip! Man. I’m a grown-up.

You know what gets on my nerves? When people say they’re going to “give back to the community.” I don’t really know why it kills me so much, but it does. I mean, do people really even live in “communities” anymore? And when they say it, do they know what they’re talking about? Any time people mention charity, they say, “I’m so glad I’ve finally gotten the opportunity to give back to the community,” or worse, “Have you been looking for a way to give back to your community?” My question is, What community? And what did it give you that you’re giving back?

Don’t get me wrong, the giving part is awesome. I love giving. Giving is good. It’s very, very good. But I don’t know, just come up with a new phrase! I’m just sick of it. I’m sick of hearing it, OK?

Another thing I’m tired of? The name Jenn. Look. I know like 25% of girls in my generation are named Jennifer. That’s not their fault, and it’s a cute name if you just listen to the sound. Apparently it was so cute in the late 70s and early 80s that people couldn’t get enough of it when naming their babies. I’ve met some nice people named Jenn, and the name itself is fine — it sounds fine; I have nothing against it. But I’m just so tired of it! Everyone’s name is Jenn! Just… just… go by Jennifer, or Jenny, or Jenna, or your middle name. Sometimes I get stressed out because I currently have no close friends named Jenn, but I know it’s bound to happen, based on odds. And when it does, I’ll have to say the name all the time. I’ll call her Jenn when talking to her, introduce her as Jenn, and discuss her as “My friend Jenn,” and the whole time I’ll still be hearing about all the other Jenns in the world. I’m going to get so tired of saying and listening the word “Jenn!” I’ll be saying it in my sleep. Please! All you Jenns out there, it’s a fine name, but it’s SO done. Go by Jennifer! Please! Just give “Jenn” back to the community — maybe the community can use it.

Sometimes my life is too ridiculous to even deal with. It’s the kind of thing, if you were watching a movie about me in the movie theater you’d sink way down in your seat and partially cover your eyes, because you were just so embarrassed for me.

Sunday, for example. I woke up and realized 2 things. Thing One: my period had started, and Thing Two: I was all out of Advil. This is bad, because I have the most ridiculous cramps imaginable, and without any pain relievers I would probably consider killing myself. I know this sounds harsh, but let’s look at it this way: My worst fear about being kidnapped by refugees rebels (Why on Earth did I write “refugees?”) while traveling in a beautiful but unstable country and taken as a hostage for a year or two would not be getting beaten, raped, eaten alive by bugs, burned as a human sacrifice, etc. etc. It would be running out of pain relievers and having debilitating menstrual cramps. I think about it a lot, and I dread it. Really.

So anyway, Sunday I didn’t have any Advil, but I did find some Alleve, which doesn’t usually work as well, but I was like, “Oh, these cramps aren’t that bad, I’m sure this will be fine,” so I threw a couple of those back. Then like an hour later I was like, “Shit.” And the only other thing I had was Tylenol 3 with Codeine that I hoodwinked my doctor into giving me a prescription for a while back, and I figured what the hell, and took one of those, too. And I thought, Maybe I’ll feel better if I walk around a little bit, so I put on my sneakers and iPod and decided to walk up to the pharmacy about 10-15 mins. away and get some Advil, along with some of those Mr. Clean magic erasers to clean some pesky smudges off the walls. (Am I a walking ad right now, or what? Ahem, Someone needs to pay me for all this free advertising!) (From now on, any reference to a brand name will be accompanied by a “ding!” to signify that someone needs to give me money).

So anyway, anyway, anyway, I’m walking around Sav-On Drugs (ding!) just browsing, you know, taking my merry little time, and oh, I’d say it’s about 2pm, and all of a sudden my head felt really funny, like all the blood had just drained out of my face, and my vision got all wonky, and I knew beyond all doubt that I was about to pass out, right there in the household cleaner isle. So I squatted down on the floor and I don’t know if it was the panic or what, but then I started shaking all over, and felt hot/cold/hot/cold/oh man, I have mixed a lethal cocktail of pain relievers in my bloodstream and have only minutes to live! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I have to get out of here, but I have to get this Advil first, oh my goodness, there is no way I’m going to be able to walk all the way home without dying first.

So I sat it out for a while, and called my roommate (from the floor of Sav-On Drugs) (Ding!) to see if he could come pick me up.

“Hello?”

“HI, ADAM!!!” (chipperest voice I can muster)

“Hey, what’s up, Marce?”

“ARE YOU AT HOME?!!!” (I am ever so chipper, definitely not about to die on the drugstore floor!)

“No.”

“OH, OK, NEVER MIND, I’LL JUST CALL MATTHEW!!! I JUST HAD A QUESTION, BUT NO BIGGIE!!!” (I’m fine and most definitely not about to die! Sunshine! Flowers! Rainbows and puppies!!!)

(hang up. dial other roommate matthew. ring, ring, ring, ring, voicemail. hang up. thoughts a cloudy fog. call jeff. voicemail. shitshitshitshitshit).

After a minute I decided to try standing up. Maybe I’d go ask the pharmacist if perhaps I shouldn’t have taken the aforementioned combination of drugs, but there was an endlessly long line and I didn’t revel in the thought of fainting with a full audience of people. About that time Jeff called back. He was in Santa Monica but offered to come get me anyway, but I said, no, I was feeling better, and he said to go get some water, maybe I was dehydrated, and that seemed like a good idea, so I hung up and was feeling better, decided to get the Advil and water and try to walk home, and BOOM, it happened again.

So again I squatted and tried to look busy with something in my purse so as not to look like someone who was just squatting on the floor shaking all over for no reason, and a woman comes up and starts looking for something on the bottom shelf and asks me, as though I’m behaving normally, “Do you see any regular Milk of Magnesia in the normal sized bottle, or only in the big bottle?” And why wouldn’t she ask me? After all, I was eye level.

“Ummmmm, Oh, there’s some.” I must have misunderstood, because she ended up getting a giant non-regular bottle anyway. Normally I would have felt bad for being un-helpful, but at this moment I was concentrating on Not Dying. The good news here is that even though I was dizzy and shaking on the floor of the drugstore, I did and do not need to purchase a giant bottle of milk of magnesia for any reason.

Since I had nothing better to do, I called Matthew again, and this time he picked up and agreed to come get me, so I wobbled my way to the cash register to purchase my water, Advil (ding!) and Mr. Clean Magic Erasers (ding!), which I had somehow managed to still find in the midst of my dying. I went outside where it started to happen again, causing me to have to lean up against the filthy side of the building, full-on where homeless guys usually stand (I was probably infuriating some old bum by being in his turf), and then I sat down on a pipe (a horizontal one, not vertical — ouch!) and got some strange looks when passersby realized I didn’t fit the typical demographic of that particular hangout spot. While there, I called my dad, who, conveniently, is a pharmacist, and asked him if he thought I was about to die. No. He said I shouldn’t have taken all that on an empty stomach and that I just needed food and would probably live. Good news. And before long Matthew pulled up, just as my cramps were reaching an insanely painful level, and I went home and ate one of Adam’s bananas and got in bed with a Therma-Care (ding!) heat patch, and took some of the Advil (ding!) (because why not add one more type of drug to the mix?) and started feeling much, much better, and so ends the saga of me almost dying.

The End.

(Brought to you by Chiquita (ding!)) Don’t forget to eat.

Here is an excerpt from an IM conversation I had with my dad the other day. But first you have to know 2 things about him. One: He is obsessed with history, to the extent that several of our family vacations in my childhood were “Civil War Vacations,” consisting entirely of traipsing through battlefields and trudging through the homes of various dead generals. Two: Whenever he writes, he loves to put quotation marks around things for no apparent reason.

me: hey dad!

dad: Marcy, Just got back from Isle of Palms. Boated out to Ft.
Sumpter, where Civil War started. Ate at Poogan’s Porch and went on Buggy Ride around Charlston. We did a lot in 4 days.

me: wow, that sounds amazing!

dad: Your mom and I got “burnt” on our 1st beach day. My legs looked like a “red flamingo’s”. When your mom took off her bikini, she looked like she still had it on.

me: hahahahaha

dad: I believe you would have enjoyed the wedding reception. they had a rock band. Carol and Marcia wanted to dance. After 4 glasses of wine, If I’d said yes, the family would have been talking about me for a decade. I’m glad I had wisdom to say Nooooooo.

me: hahahaha, yes, probably a good idea ;) but you never know, you may have wowed them all.

dad: When your mom and I went into Charlston for the wedding, we took the wrong turn off the bridge. We ended up in the “hood” of Charlston. There were some tense moments until we found St. Michaels church. Built in the early 1700′s. George Washington once visited this church. Marcia and Janet couldn’t find the bathroom and went in the church cementary before the service. Each family had their own “enclosed pew”. After the service, bells were rung to announce the marrige.

me: wow, that sounds nice
me: wait, marcia and janet peed in the cemetery?
me: they probably gave a corpse or two a rude awakening

dad: Yes, It was “crazy” just before the ceremony. Also, the cemetary is so old. Rutledge family members are burried there. (signer of constitution) Aunt Grey is afraid any one looking outside nearby office buildings saw them. They claimed they just couldn’t wait.

me: hahaha

By the way, I feel the need to point out that he said I would have enjoyed the reception because they had a “rock band.” Classic.

So today was Labor Day, and yesterday morning at the grocery store I saw a woman in the parking lot wearing white from head to toe. White top, pants, shoes, bag, everything. It took me a minute to figure it out, but then I suddenly realized she must be wearing every bit of her summer white, sort of as one last hurrah before Labor Day, when it would become frowned upon. What a brilliant maneuver! I wish I had thought of that.

I’ve heard from multiple sources, though, that the white after Labor Day rule is antiquated. That’s good, because I never paid attention to it anyway. Especially in warm climates, it seems dumb to not wear cool white on a sizzling hot day just because it’s after a certain date in September.

I think maybe tomorrow I’ll wear all white to work and see if anyone makes any dumb jokes about it being after Labor Day. Then I’ll teach them a lesson by pointing out that that rule no longer applies. Boy, will they be sorry they messed with me!

I was thinking about what to write today, and in the back of my mind swirled all the things I have to get done this week, and I thought, “Boy, do I feel stressed,” and probably because I just looked at my last blentry’s title, Don’t Whine, Drink Wine, the first thing that popped into my head was, “Don’t Stress, Call Bess!” So that’s the title of this blentry.

As it happens, my late paternal grandmother’s name was Bess, short for Mary Elizabeth. While I can no longer call her up (I mean on the phone; I don’t mean I can no longer recall her), I do think of her when I say “Don’t Stress, Call Bess,” and how even when she was in her 60s and not thin, according to my mother she would dangle her legs over the arm of a chair and say, “Well, isn’t this the best looking leg y’all have ever seen?” And thinking of that does kind of reduce my stress, because it forces me to look at the big picture of Life, and family, and fun, and love. And if she could be chubby and old and still admire herself, that was something good.

P.S. My dad always used to say, “Don’t fuss, call Gus! He’ll fuss for all of us!” (For your use, “fuss” can be replaced with “cuss” where applicable).

You may remember when I was stressing out about being on that new game show, Starface, and then how I went and sat around all day and didn’t even get on. Well, I went back and taped the episode, and it’s airing this Wednesday night, August 9, at 9:30 P.M. on GSN. BUT PLEASE check your local listings, because that might be the wrong time. Apparently it’s on an East Coast feed, whatever that means, so maybe it will come on at 6:30 on the West Coast? I’m not sure. Also, when I was checking my TiVo last night, I saw another show called Star Face, two words. I don’t know what that is, but it was on a different station, so make sure you search for the one that is ONE WORD: Starface.

I’m not going to tell you what happened, but I will say there is more to the story. Maybe this will make sense when you watch it; maybe not. I’m not sure what I’m allowed to say right now (I signed some scary lawyery forms saying I wouldn’t disclose the results, etc.) But anyway.

OH, and can I just say, What the H was up with my hair?! I NEVER wear it parted in the middle like that, but that day that is ALL it would do. UGH! I tried and tried to force my bangs into their usual sidesweeping motion, but they were not having it. So, while I may or may not have won that day, in the competition between my hair and me, the hair came out a clear winner.

Hope you enjoy the show! I haven’t seen it, so I hope I don’t regret telling you to watch!

P.S. Did I mention that Danny Bonaduce is the host? Yeah.

Of what, I’m not sure. But just listen to this:

I’ve been wondering just how real or how fake The Hills (the spinoff of Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County) is. When I watched L.B. (religiously) for the last two seasons, I could tell it wasn’t exactly spontaneous, in that the producers would set stuff up, like L.C. would have a party and they would tell Kristin to go, even though she wouldn’t otherwise have gone — that sort of thing. But it did seem like, as they claimed, the “drama [was] real.”

However. After peeing myself with excitement to watch The Hills, I was bitterly disappointed in just how contrived the whole thing seemed. EVERYTHING seemed orchestrated. (For more on my outrage, click here). But then, the more I watched, the more I wasn’t sure. Heidi was really crying, for example, when she broke up with Jordan, and it actually seemed like Jordan was pretty surprised.

BUT: Yesterday I watched the most recent episode on Ti-vo, and Heidi and Audrina were at a cafe outside, having a naturally occuring conversation the camera just happened to pick up on… or were they? One second, there’s nothing on the table. The next second, they have two glasses of water. The next second, they don’t. And so on, and so forth, revealing that the “conversation” was actually done in several takes, and that whoever was in charge of maintaining continuity with the props is probably now unemployed.

Now, I’m not saying this proves the whole thing is entirely scripted. I was actually on a reality show one time that was indeed reality, but due to techical things, sometimes they had to ask us to repeat things we had just said and pretend it was happening all over again, thus doing a “real” scene in several takes, and thus causing the potential for some continuity mishaps.

So I guess what we’ve concluded is: nothing. I am no farther along in solving this mystery. If you have any clues, I’d love to hear them. Meanwhile, I guess I’ll just have to keep watching — for investigational purposes only, of course!

Hi friends! I’m a genius, and have installed WordPress all by myself! But while I’m fiddling around with it, please continue to visit my blog at www.baddminton.wordpress.com.

Update: Ignore the above message. www.baddminton.com is now officially the place to be!