In college, I was always the designated driver.
I have just never really been a drinker.
I like to have a buzz and alcohol definitely affects me. But because it doesn't take much for me to feel tipsy, I never drink enough to get sick.
I have been sick from drinking a total of 6 times. It was 5...until this weekend.
I am thinner than I have been in 8 years. It was my first Halloween in a long time where I was going to look cute...or sexy. Either way, I was going to look gooooood.
Mads helped me find a costume on Saturday.
I am always a cat.
But I never committed to buying anything for it. I would make the ears out of construction paper.
It kind of looked sad.
But this year I went as a Magicat. Like a cat that is a magician.
I wore fishnet tights. I had sparkly heels. I had a magic wand. I had a short skirt.
And I had real costume cat ears...and a tail.
I felt shiny and new.
Mads went as a vampire's new bride and Zapato went as a Jersey Girl. They looked awesome. Mads looked sooooo elegant for a newly dead.
Mads told Gamby, "We are accentuating all our strengths...Kirsten's legs, Zapato's hair, and my deathly pallor"
That Mads is also very funny for a newly dead.
We went to our party all excited with the promise of a night filled with possibilities.
I hadn't eaten dinner.
I had some straight vodka.
I started talking to a man dressed as Owen Wilson.
We really hit it off.
Mads was like, "Owen Wilson LOVES you".
I had to agree.
He went to get me another vodka.
Mads was talking to Owen's cute cute friend.
When Owen came back, I asked him how he knew his friend...
"Oh, his boss is my boyfriend"
Me: blink blink..."Oh, that's cool"
"He didn't tell you that part?"
"Nope, nope he did not."
Mads taps me on the shoulder and whispers, "Did he just say BOYfried?"
"Yes, yes he did."
But it was okay. Before this boyfriend, he had always been attracted to women. In fact, were he not in a committed relationship, he said he would have been all over me.
I told him, if he were not in a committed relationship and GAY, I would let him be all over me.
But that is about all I remember in a coherent manner.
The rest of the night involves me being fed grilled cheese sandwiches and water from Gamby's frined Dana who was babysitting me.
Watching drunk people in college, I never had that kind of patience to watch people who were a mess from overindulgence.
And here, this complete stranger is looking over me in the front yard of the house where the party was still rallying on.
"Drink your water."
"I finished it."
"There is another one at your feet...by your wand and your purse"
I STILL had my wand...and my purse. I was so thrilled to hear it. I had lost my tail and gloves sometime earlier.
Men would come to hit on Dana and she never lost her focus on getting me better.
The men would notice me slumped over and go, "Is she okay?"
Some men called me princess and allowed my head to rest on their arm.
In fact, I rested my head on many arms that night. I don't even know whose arms they were.
I threw up. It was embarrassing.
Dana convinced me that no one saw.
I finally thanked her and went out to the street. I needed some space. I needed to sit on the curb. I actually wanted to curl up in a ball and fall asleep on the curb.
I threw up some more.
I still had my purse and my wand. But my whiskers had changed from three on each cheek, to one and a half. People who couldn't even walk themselves, would walk by me and ask if I was okay.
I would say, "Yes, I am just chilling".
I must have looked like a sad little kitty all slumped over the curb with my wand.
I don't know how long I was out there but I finally went back inside.
Amazing. When I don't care about people approaching me, they all do.
I just sat in a chair and tried to keep my vision focused.
Many men would talk to me.
I remember one.
His name was Joe.
He was so nice.
Then Owen walked up and I was surrounded by the nicest people who were very concerned with my state.
It was four am when I got to Mads.
We talked for awhile about the night.
I have to say, that although most of the faces are fuzzy and the way things happened are out of order, the people that I met this Halloween, the year I looked hot, were some of the nicest strangers I have ever met.
I feel all warm inside....and that is definitely not the vodka.
Happy Halloween.
Today, I moved my desk to the other side of the floor.
My bosses moved with me.
And although that may not seem like a big deal, when you work in a department where gossip and rumors are the staple, it is like I moved to a different neighborhood.
It is called the "fun side". I used to work on the fun side at our old building and I always had a hub at my desk and would get in trouble for all the noise even if I wasn't making it.
I have moved to the new fun side.
It is like moving an alcoholic into a bar.
Except that the fun side for all its frivolity and social gatherings is littered with unhappiness.
I am feeling a little spent trying to walk that line of being with them but not being of them.
The people of the fun side I mean.
I am tired.
Mads and I are going to the Gagosian tonight.
Well, pending the arrival of an old friend of hers.
We will see.
If it is supposed to be the fun side, how come my tummy is in knots?
I have rere who is still on the "other" side and who keeps me grounded.
She is like my sponsor.
Since she used to be on the fun side at the other building too.
I could really use a drink...which is nothing like moving a former socialholic into the middle of a social milieu.
Sometimes, a drink is just a drink. But a "side" has so many points.
Sharp, dangerous points.
What I love about LA is that you can meet people who you may eventually see on tv or the movies.
It is all around us.
It is way more exciting for me to see people who haven't made it yet, begin to make strides.
I guess it is the underdog effect.
You want to root for them. Like, "yeah, you are on your way...go go go!!!"
There is a guy that Mads and I randomly met a few years ago at a Sunset Plaza restaurant.
He was late for a birthday party that had already disbanded, so he joined our table.
He is very very funny.
He was married and had a kid and showed us pics of his son.
He is a comic and an actor.
I see him at the gym quite often.
His name is Justin Wade.
I have seen so many commercials of this guy.
Mads and I always say that he has a great agent.
I mean, a lot of people are talented and don't get the exposure that he does.
But whatever it is, I just love seeing someone make the climb from obscurity to visible.
And from visible, the possiblities are endless.
Trust me, you will be seeing more of him in the future.
And what I also love about LA is that the chances for me to make that same climb are the same and trust me...I will make it too.
In class, I was reading the last portion of my woman show out loud.
The teacher liked what I was saying until I got to a cliche.
He said that the reason anyone is interested in my piece is because of the details that I create that make it unique to me.
In using a cliche, it almost betrays what the audience has been waiting for.
So he asked me to come up with another way to define the phrase:
"Home Sweet Home". (that wasn't in my show...he was just trying to make me do an exercise).
So I said, "Home is where the heart is"
"EHHHHH," like a game show error buzzer came out of him. "Try again".
"Um, there is no place like home" nervous beads of sweat forming on my temple.
He wants me to try another one. The same result occurs.
I. Am. A. Walking. Cliche.
And the worst part is all I want to say to that is..."how cliche". Groaner.
I know.
How did this happen?
I love words. I love dissecting phrases and emotions and feelings.
I love language.
And somehow, all I can come up with to define a cliche is another cliche.
Have I become a product of a USA today society? A blip in a blog mentality?
My thoughts, somehow, just fragments of something I heard a long time ago. Nothing original.
Nothing new.
Just a regurgitated version of another version of a thought.
Finally, with some work, my teacher got a new idea out of me.
I was happy. Happy like a clam.
I was finally able to think without a cliche...out of the box, if you will.
Thinking without a net.
Free from the monkey of cliche that was on my back.
And that felt good. Even if it is just a start to reclaiming my language skills.
I always say...one step at a time, rome wasn't built in a day, and avoid cliches like the plague.
See, much better, huh?
I see psychics.
It is the subject of my one woman show.
Well part of it.
I usually believe them.
There is a part in my show where I am disilluioned by the psychic stuff and the horoscopes and all that.
But in real life, I was being more and more drawn to it all.
I am learning to do tarot cards even.
So, when class for the one person show resumed, I reread my pages that I hadn't touched since June and I realized that I don't really feel connected to the piece I wrote.
I have an amazing teacher who somehow sees something in the piece that I don't and he keeps me motivated when I would have normally bailed.
Today, i saw a psychic that I have recommended to many people. She isn't particularly nice and her energy isn't the calmest, but her readings are pretty accurate in terms of the information she is given.
Except for today.
This was the worst reading I have ever had in my life.
I felt like such a fool for having ever believed her about anything.
She was stressed out, and all her information that she was reading was a information on a friend of mine who wanted to go today but couldn't.
I left feeling very disgusted with everything.
That all that I believed in is a sham.
And then...my writers block for the piece sort of cleared up.
What my character is feeling that I couldn't connect to was what I was feeling.
I just noticed that it was midnight. And my feet are icicles because the windows are open and I haven't moved since it was light out.
the laptop has been attached to my legs since then and my typing has become amazingly fast.
And instead of feeling stupid like I did earlier today, I feel like I was given a huge gift of finding the window when the door closes.
Cuz, my way is to usually kick at that door and cry at that door and be pissed at that door.
My way today was a new direction and I feel very peaceful.
And it didn't take a psychic reading to tell me that...but strangely it did take the reading to get me here.
I went to Subway for a sandwich.
It is the one near my house.
I always order the same thing.
And there is a guy that works there that just seems so bored.
But sort of stupid too.
But not in a retarded way, but more in a bored-so-not-noticing stuff way..
I call him Bored Guy
I always order the same thing.
He never seems to remember me.
He never charges me for the avocado that I order.
He is very particular about starting the dang sandwich. He takes a long time putting on the plastic gloves. And stretching out the wrap. he cuts the turkey with the care that I hope my boyfriend takes when paying attention to any part of my body.
He looks up only to sigh and almost say something but then doesn't. He is soooo bored. But strangely has OCD about making the sandwich perfect.
He almost flirts with me but I am pretty sure that he is gay.
He confuses me.
He tried to give me cookies when i was on the diet and it was difficult to say no but I had to.
And he was pretty persistent.
I don't even think he was going to charge me.
The guy working with him tonight has helped me before too. He does everything by the book. Charges me for all the extras I order.
And he is very quick.
I think he hates working with Bored Guy.
Bored Guy took like an hour to put my sandwich in the to-go bag and I watched the by the book guy watch him with painful impatience.
He snatched the bag out of Bored Guy's hands and finished the transaction.
Bored Guy just sort of walked away into the back. But not with any anger or acknowledgement that Impatient Guy had non verbally told him he was too slow. Nope, he just walked away like he was walking from one room to another looking for the remote but not really wanting to find it.
Bored Guy would make me sad if he didn't seem so bored and a little arrogant. And it is his arrogance that makes me feel that he will be okay in this world and not be beaten down by it.
Patronizing? Maybe a little.
But it is what my mind thinks when I watch strangers.
My sandwich was good. It always is, no matter who makes it.
I think I want to meet a Scottish man.
Whose accent makes me swoon.
And I would like him to be called Seamus. I don't know if that is a scottish or irish name but I don't give a rat's bleep.
I would love to say...
"Seamus, darling, would you please let the dog out?"
"Seamus, where do you want to go for dinner?"
"Seamus, how many people mispronounce your name and call you C MUSS?"
"Seamus, oy how your accent is not cute when you condescend to me."
Things like that.
I know many of you think I will end up with a David, but I do not.
I shall end up with a Seamus.
And he shall be wonderfully quirky and adorable.
Maybe because Mads's bday party was abfab fun.
Where I was able to talk to many people and dance and drink and leave the party (at 3:30am) feeling incredibly full of confidence and satisfaction of being surrounded by many good friends.
Maybe because Saturday night, I went with friends to the Orpheum (newly restored) to see vaudeville shows and have free wine.
Where I was able to right after saying that I am not looking for love or a crush, fell madly in crush with Owen Morse. He is one of the two juggling comics that make up the Passing Zone. So much in fact that I hadn't felt that kind of pip in my tummy since Ghost and that is at least 2 and a half years ago.
I even went up to him after the show and said something insanely stupid and fan-like, such as, "I think you guys are amazing. Soooo funny. And your juggling wasn't bad either". I was making some good eye contact until some woman ready to give them a job took away my thunder. That bitch. He and I could have been an amazing couple. Except Ennui thought we all were missing the whole gay vibe. Don't talk about my future imaginary boyfriend like that.
Maybe it was because I spent Sunday morning in class with my supportive classmates (first time since June) and my brilliant teacher.
Where I was told to trust the process of writing this one person show.
Maybe because I spent the evening with an old friend and we made amazing food and laughed and drank and played board games and made up new rules and my dad stopped by on his way back to san diego and I felt like my weekend was mine and not some rope that was leaving my fingers at fast pace.
Maybe because of the thunder that woke me up and made me relish my bed and my warm sox on my feet and the smell of fall in the air.
Maybe it was all of those components making the weekend seem like a vacation that made me NOT want this Monday to be here.
That made this day feel like it was an accident and that we should have all stayed at home drinking hot cocoa and eating pumpkin bread.
In my head, that is what I am doing.
I hope my bosses don't think that is counterproductive to what I should be doing in the harsh light of my cubicle. Who cares.
It is what I am doing anyway.
Today is Mads's birthday.
Yesterday was her mom's birthday.
In a few days it will be my aunt's bithday.
A week from today it is my dad's birthday.
This sunday is my cubicle mate's birthday.
Libras are all around us.
Being fair and just when they are in a good place.
Being a bit barby-toungued when they are in a bad place.
Libras are pretty darn cool either way.
Happy birthday to you all.
Tonight's birthday party is loosley themed all things italian since Mads and Jazzy just returned from their trip from the great country. Now if they would bring some hot italian men just for party favors I for one would not complain. Nope not me. I am just courteous like that.
I got a gelato cake. Like an ice cream cake but with gelato. MMMMMMMmmmmmm.
I tasted the flavors I am using and all I can say is HEAVEN. Well, the name of the place I am getting it is called Gelato Paradiso so that makes sense.
In the Lars Von Trier film, "Dancer in the Dark", Bjork plays a woman who is going blind and imagines big busby berkely scale musical numbers to help her escape the drudgery of her boring pathetic life.
By the end, when life is soooo bad and horrid her imaginary life barely escapes being as sad as her real existence. It is just a step up from reality.
It is like when you have nothing to compare your life to, your fantasies reflect that.
Lately I have been noticing how much I used to covet everyone's life.
Almost everyone I met, I thought had a more interesting life than I did.
Even the boring ones.
Mostly I coveted their lives because those boring people were at least content in their lives; something I was not. So I coveted that. Simplicity in life.
But that didn't work. Coveting never did. It only made me feel like an outsider to life.
I have realized that recently, my past fantasies of what I wanted from life were directly proportionate to what I thought I deserved.
Now, I have a lot of wonderful things and people and events in my life.
I still want more.
I still need more.
Things are hardly as good as they could be, in fact, life has been quite difficult lately. And I have been having a hard time trying to be grateful.
But I am learning not to covet anyone's life.
I am learning that the way I will make this whole "life" ride work for me is to figure myself out and then go with that.
It is weird when I come across a memory of what I thought would be amazing or make me happy. It was such a sad little scrap.
And I feel so much better about where I am today when I think of that.
My fantasies will become my reality.
And they are directly proportionate to what I think I deserve.
And for the first time in a long time, that is a lot.
My mind has been a jello-ish mushy pool of goo.
I think I have a touch of the blues.
So I have really been concentrating mostly on working out and sleeping.
But last night, I went to Mads's mom's photo exhibit at the Arclight.
Her photos are amazing. I am her biggest fan. But not her only one.
The exhibit is called "Walking in LA" and they are great. It is located upstairs in the hall where the theaters are. You should check it out if you are in the area. When I make my $$, I am going to have my entire house outfitted with her photos.
So as I am there with Mama Mads, Papa Mads, Jazzy, Frenchie gal and Greeky, we are standing around the photos and a slew of famous people come out of the theaters. I was like, "What is up on Wed nights at the Arclight?"
Turns out there was a film festival going on.
Alison Janney, Marilu Henner, Tony Shaloub, and others we couldn't remember the names of were watching us watching them.
It was kind of cool. Marilu Henner looked amazing. I think she eats macrobiotic or something like that. Anyway, it is healthy.
Then Jazzy and Mama Mads and I went to Lala's for some dinner. That place always feels like a party.
The service was unusually bad last night which was a shame but there were so many beautiful men for me to stare at that I almost didn't care.
The best way out of the blues is to see famous people, hang with good people and stare at beautiful people. At least it helped for me last night.