Archive for July 31, 2006


July 31, 2006

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!

Pop Quiz, Hotshot:

July 27, 2006

You start to step onto the elevator at your office building, but it smells like a giant fart. What do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO??????


You’ve just arrived to work and innocently walk into the elevator, when you are assaulted with a stank most foul, an overpowering, dizzying stank. You immediately do a 180 and stand there weighing your options. It’s almost 8 AM, and you don’t have time to walk up the stairs to the 10th floor, and plus you don’t want to start off your day all sweaty from the exercise.

You can’t push the button to call another elevator, because this one is sitting with the doors open, and until it goes up, none of the others will open.

The last thing you would ever do is get IN the elevator and take it upstairs, because a) You’re not sure if you can hold your breath until the 10th floor, and even if you can, this is the type of fart that will probably stick to your clothes and hair and follow you around all day; And b) If someone else gets on the elevator at another floor, they’ll think YOU are the perpetrator!!! So…



In a moment, the fog created by inhaling the toxic fumes clears, and your brilliant instincts return. You hold your breath, rush into the elevator, and push “8,” then run back out. This will get it as far away as possible from you on the ground floor without getting it too close to the 10th floor, because you’re pretty sure the smell would carry up through the elevator shaft and permeate your entire office floor, making your office shut down for the day, thus causing the downfall of the entire company.

Once that elevator is safely headed up to the poor, unsuspecting 8th floor (snicker), you call another elevator, step inside, take a deep breath, and inhale the fresh air of your genius.

My Boyfriend Cannot Remember How to Say “Okra.”

July 26, 2006

It’s adorable. We frequently go to an Indian restaurant — So frequently that they always get excited and greet us, and comment if we haven’t been back for a while. Every time we go, we order the chicken korma curry (spicy), okra masala (medium), rice, and naan bread. Some people grew up eating okra. Jeff did not, and therefore didn’t grow up pronouncing it either. So, before we order, he always asks me to remind him how to say it. Then he orders, and says it wrong anyway. He either says it with a short ‘o’ sound, like “Ah-kra,” or “Orca,” like the whale.

I find this positively delightful. It makes me want to go to the other side of the table and sit on his lap facing him, which I have done before in a restaurant when the occasion warranted, and smother him with kisses. I hope he never figures it out.

Peeve Cannonball to you, too!

July 25, 2006

I got this in my spam folder last week. I was curious to find out more about the peeve cannonball that Rebecca Edwards was so keen on telling me about, but alas, my practical side kicked in, and I deleted it. I thought, “Do I really need a peeve cannonball? No, I have too much clutter as it is. Or… do I want to go peeve cannonballing, if it is a verb? Probably — it’s tempting — but I’m pretty busy this week.”


As for Jacinth Mathisen, I had just run out of lykex VIeAGRA, so it’s good that she emailed when she did.

Luckily, Dionne offers me the chance to be both leaner and slimmer by next week, which is good, because I can’t just be leaner, or slimmer. I must be both.

And it’s always good to hear from my old friend Graves. He was a little mad at me, I think. He always wishes me a happy day, but this time he caught himself, and said, “Do I want to wish Marcy a happy day? Let me think about this for a second. OK, yes, I think I do. I’m not mad anymore. Yes, I’ll go ahead and wish her a happy day.” Oh, Graves. (smiling and shaking my head).

Your Breath Smells… Musky

July 20, 2006

I’ve decided that the “Wall Street Cafe” downstairs in my office building buys all their food at a big discount warehouse that sells things nobody else wants. Like, they have Starburst, but only the tropical flavors. And they have Orbit gum, but only the two strangest flavors: citrus and sweet mint. I am actually quite fond of sweet mint, but that is a sheer coincidence. They also have Eclipse gum, but only “Cinnamon Inferno.” No other flavors. Personally, I do not want to put anything with the name “Inferno” into my mouth, much less chew on it for an hour. Yikes! They have two other brands of cinnamon-only gum, and then you stumble across the Beechies. Yes, the brand of gum called Beechies. The flavors are: strawberry (normal), violet (not normal — I smelled it, and it smells like a Glade Plug-In), Apricot Passion (didn’t smell this one), and the most baffling of all: Musk. Do you think I’m making this up? I’m not, and to prove it, I took a photograph:

Stuff2 003.jpg

I smelled this Musk gum, and as the name describes, it smells like cheap drugstore cologne mixed with a hint of B.O. Why, oh why would anyone want to put something that tastes like an awkward adolescent boy into their mouth? WTF?? Oh, and did you notice the “Stride” gum on the top left? Stride?? Have y’all ever heard of that? I might get confused and think I was at the 99-cent store, but unfortunately all of these things cost more than 99 cents.

OK, moving on: If you want some Corn Nuts, go to the Wall Street Cafe downstairs in my building, and you can get every flavor ever created. Surprisingly, many of these are actually missing, meaning people eat them. Even more surprisingly, the “chili picante” flavor (far right) seems especially popular.
Corn Nuts

I would say about 95% of the Wall Street Cafe consists of weird junk food. They even have several flavors of Warheads candy, which I’m pretty sure I haven’t eaten since I was 14. Is this an office building or a high school football game concession stand? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.

In fact, you know what it reminds me of? When I was in middle school, they built a supermarket nearby called the “Grocery Outlet.” My friend Devin aptly called it the “Groce-Out” for short. Here they sold food that was expired, dented, usually stale, and otherwise unappealing to everyone but my mother and people just like her. Somehow the moms thought it was the best thing to hit Asheville, North Carolina, and that it would be a good idea to drag their children along for two-hour-long shopping trips.

Anyway, I’m tempted to get a pack of the musk gum just to let you know what it’s like to chew on someone’s deodorant. If I get the courage I’ll keep you posted.

Blog Bless America

July 18, 2006

As much as I can shake my fist about current political problems here, reading this made me so thankful I live in a country with a constitution that protects free speech. India has banned access to all the blogs that use several popular blogging platforms, including Blogger and type pad. Apparently they did this because suspected villains used blogs to coordinate the recent Mumbai train bombings. (I love the word “villains.”)
Granted, the present regime in the U.S. has taken their power to a seriously annoying (and illegal) level by preying on fear, vis-a-vis all the listening in on private conversations, etc. (I also love the word “vis-a-vis.”) But at least we’re still clinging onto some form of checks and balances, and free speech for the most part still prevails. When all is said and done, the U.S.A. really is still the freeest (that can’t be the correct spelling, can it?) country in the world.

Joanna is 27!

July 16, 2006

Yesterday was Joanna’s 27th birthday. She is my oldest friend. Not oldest in age; don’t be ridiculous. Oldest in time I have known her. She and I have literally known each other since before we were born. Or, as much as one fetus can “get to know” another fetus in another uterus. I called her this evening, and she said, “I have high hopes for 27, because 17 was a good year for me, and it ended in 7.” This proves we’ve known each other for our entire lives, because although I haven’t seen her in years and we unfortunately seldom talk anymore, that is the exact thing I said when I was turning 27 in March. The exact thing.

Here is a photo of her 18th birthday. NINE years ago! She’s the one on the right. Oh, and it totally looks like we’re superimposed onto the background, but I promise we’re not! Because if I were going to superimpose us, I think I would put us against something cooler than an off-white wall.
I’ve made an album on my Flickr page of more old photos of Joanna and the good old days. These only date back to Senior year of high school, but our parents have oodles of pictures of us as adorable little kids. Hopefully I’ll get those on this blog at some point. Anyway, to view all the photos, click here.

Happy Birthday, Joanna Banana!

Two Birds, One Stone

July 14, 2006

Last Friday night I went to see The Shins and Belle & Sebastian at the Hollywood Bowl with Rebecca and her friend Emily. (Is that a record for most links in one sentence? If so, is there a prize for that? If so, where do I collect said prize?) The bowl is always an excellent time. Rebex and I found great parking and got there in plenty of time to see the Shins, even though we were terrified that we wouldn’t make it all the way from work on time. We had wine and delicious picnic food, including various cheeses, the most delicious strawberries in the universe, and chocolate bundt cakes, which I stubbornly insisted on calling butt cakes.

Bowl 001a.jpg

Despite the good music and great company, as the night wore on I found myself getting fidgety. The show went from 7:30 to 11, and everyone was staying seated. Well, I had been sitting down for over 12 hours already that day, counting the commute to and from work. I needed to move around, dudes! And suddenly the best idea ever appeared like a light bulb over my head. I thought, I’d be so happy right now if I was on an exercise bike or an elliptical cycle. I could be enjoying the live music while getting a workout! So I determined that the best concert hall ever would consist of a normal stage and layout, but instead of seats it would have cardio machines, circuit training machines, weights, and mats for stretching. Now, you might say “But what about just standing up and dancing to the music?” Well, I agree that dancing is often a good solution for fidgetyness, but along with that comes people banging into you, spilling drinks on you, jumping in front of you and blocking your view, and the general ruining of fun. If we each had our own exercise equipment, we could all maintain our own personal space! And we could spin, run, or lift to the music! We would all be healthy and have hot bodies, and also be well-rounded individuals, due to all the concerts we were taking in. By George, I didn’t become a certified genius for nothing!

Too Much of a Good Thing

July 14, 2006

The only thing worse than getting a bad song stuck in your head is getting a good one stuck. Remember when I went on and on about my new favorite adorable singer, Lily Allen? Well, I have listened to a few of her songs over and over, and now the catchiest one, “LDN,” which is a fantastic song, is on constant repeat in my head and will not leave me alone. All day Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday it was there. Finally, yesterday I was able to stave it off when I listened to some of my other music. Then, this morning at work, I felt it starting to creep back in. “NO!” I panicked. “NO! STAY AWAY!” But it didn’t. I fought it for a while, and then I allowed myself to sing through the whole thing in my head, and now it’s here to stay. Damn it!

You might say, “Well, at least it’s a good song!” But I say, No, that’s worse, because now that song is ruined for me. It might be years before I can thoroughly enjoy it again, and that makes me sad, because I like it! I ruined it for myself. This hasn’t happened for me since Aught-Three, when an ex-co-worker whose name I shant mention here listened to Coldplay’s “Clocks” album at her desk over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over, 2 or 3 times a day, every day for two straight years. You think I’m exaggerating, which sometimes I do, but I swear this time I’m not. If you don’t believe me, ask Rachel and she’ll back me up. I got to the point that if I ever heard even one note of “In My Place” outside of work, I would start involuntarily twitching and mumbling nonsense words, my eyes staring and unfocused. (OK, that part might (or might not) be a slight exaggeration). And that just f-ing sucks, because I really liked that song.

Ahhhhhh, I will never get back this day of my life!

July 13, 2006

I spent all f-ing day sitting around waiting to tape Starface, and they didn’t even get to me. Now I have to go back another day! I’m just glad I wasn’t there even longer. I guess it could have been worse. As it is, I got an extra couple hours of free time, compared to my usual workday. Whatever. Now I’m at Jeff’s house by myself waiting for him to get off work, because he lives right around the corner from the studio and we’re going out to dinner tonight. I think I’m going to go downstairs and get some Famous Amos cookies! I know he has some, because his grandma always gives him ginormous bags of cookies from Costco. I love that woman. BTW, there were so many contestants today who talked about celeb gossip ALL DAY LONG. These people are obsessed, and are virtual wells of useless pop culture trivia. Useless unless you are trying to win a dream vacation on a game show about pop culture trivia! Blast!

Welcome! And, Characteristic Last-Minute Panic

July 12, 2006

Welcome to my new easier-to-remember blog address. Right now all I can think about is how nervous I feel. Tomorrow I’m going to tape a new game show called “Starface.” It’s pop-culture trivia, and that’s about all I know. I don’t know the format, they didn’t give us anything to study, it’s just me winging it. I meant to study Entertainment Weeklys and Sports Illustrateds this week, but I haven’t had a blessed minute to sit down and read a magazine! I bought US Weekly yesterday but all it had was the same old stuff about Katie Holmes, Jessica Simpson, and Angelena Jolie. Are there any other celebrities in the world? Because I haven’t heard about anyone but those three for seriously the last year.

Anyway. One of the “interests” I listed on my Friendster and MySpace profiles is “losing on game shows.” Because a couple years ago I went on “Shop Till You Drop” with my friend Eryn, and we lost so hard we practically went down in flames. But this one, guys, This one I plan on winning. The prize is a vacation package (hopefully not to Lake Mead, which was one of the many Shop Till You Drop prizes Eryn and I did not win). I need a vacation. Bad. Therefore, I really want to win, and therefore I am nervous. The thing is, the nervousness is what will kill me if anything will. I can be an expert on something, but when I get nervous my brain goes into top-security lockdown and won’t release any information without a complicated finger-printing, retina-scanning process, which takes a lot longer than the typical amount of time you have to answer something on a game show. Like, even super duper easy questions, like “What is your name?” Anyway, guys. I need to stop being nervous, and I need to win this thing. Please think good thoughts for me!

P.S. I just returned from my lunch break, at which I rushed to Sephora at the Manhattan Village Mall and had a whirlwind session of looking for some foundation so my face doesn’t disappear on camera, and chose among 3 kinds that all looked bad to me, but the girl said the one I got looked good and I was out of time so I got it. I hope it looks good. Plus, and this is the worst thing, and it’s all my fault because I’m a horrible procrastinator: My eyebrows are a complete disaster. Like, awful. I called my lady today hoping to get an appointment tonight after work, but not only is she not available, my backup lady is also unavailable! What am I going to do? I’ll tell you, and it’s terrible. I have to pluck and trim them myself, which I am horrible at. No matter how thoroughly I think I’m plucking them, they never look neat when I’m done. What can I do? Do I trust someone new with my brows? They might ruin them! Can I go to my lady in the morning? It might work if my show gets taped in the afternoon, but if they tape it in the morning (and i have no way of knowing in advance), my eyelids will be all red. No, I don’t think either of those are options. I think all I can do is try and pluck them myself. Shoot, shoot, shoot!

P.P.S. Don’t forget to think happy, winning thoughts, and pray with all your might. I want this vacation!

Just to Make Things Complicated

July 7, 2006

They switched our phone system at work. The new phone system requires us to dial “8″ to get an outside line. Eight. Not nine, Eight. Every other phone system in the entire universe requires you to dial 9. Why did this phone company choose eight? Did someone get a patent or a copyright on 9? Or was this company just trying to be different? Are they trying to be hip and cool? Avant-garde? Ooooooh, y’all are soooooooo cooool, because you picked 8 instead of 9 . You guys are soooooooooo, like, un-mainstream. You’re really sticking it to the man, dudes.

Every time I pick up my phone I dial 9. This has been going on for about a week. Every time. I think once maybe I remembered to hit 8 first, but every single other time I have first hit 9. Do I think I will ever learn to use 8? Probably not. And even if I do, the next time I’m using a normal phone where you have to dial nine, I will inevitably first hit 8. Jerks.

Independence Is Fun!

July 6, 2006

I’ve just posted some new photos in my Flickr account from the 4th. Check ‘em out. I went up to the roof of the Bel Age Hotel with some friends to eat, drink, and watch fireworks. Although there wasn’t a huge fireworks display nearby, we were able to see them exploding all across the horizon, which was a cool new way to enjoy them. Jeff’s roommate Mike was our bartender, and we ended up getting away with lots of free drinks, as if it weren’t payment enough that we got to laugh at his funny little shorts and polo shirt uniform. Dang, why didn’t I take a picture of that?!


My British friend Virginia came to celebrate our country’s victory over hers, and pointed out how amazing it is that we’ve built all this in 230 years. (”We” including me, of course, because I have built a great deal of this country with my bare hands)!

In other news, Missy has moved to New York, which is sad for us, but happy because she booked a 3-year contract role on All My Children. She’s been in town this week packing up. On Sunday we all drank mimosas and talked while she packed. Here’s Jeremy and Missy doing a coreographed scene from a musical about packing. Good times.

In one last piece of news, This Just In: Working in an office sucks.

See my blog for now at

July 3, 2006

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

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