I’m a prude. Rather than pretend otherwise, I’m just going to embrace my more brilliant, uptight qualities. I still blush. I’ll still exclaim “Oh, my” when I see things like the full frontal shots in “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” (although, Jason, you are a brave man with nothing to be ashamed of—well done.)
Having said all of this, you must understand that Los Angeles, much like New York before this, has been a learning experience for me. I honestly believe I’ve had conversations here that people elsewhere probably do not have, or am I just out of touch in addition to being rigid?
For instance— how many of you have had conversations about vaginal rejuvenation? I’ll be honest; I wasn’t entirely certain what it was. It sounds sort of relaxing – perhaps a form of really intriguing massage, or herbal cleanse? Or it could some form of pep talk specifically designed for the zone—although someone yelling you are good enough, strong enough and darn it, people like you, to my vagina would probably traumatize me more than rejuvenate me.
Then I found out what this actually was. Apparently, you can surgically tighten up all the related areas south of the border. One ad I saw indicated that you could be “tight as a virgin” again for your man. Well, yippee. Hands up if that actually sounds good to you because I’m finding the phrase “hell, no” rolling around my brain. Once was quite enough, thank you.
Obviously, if you’ve had trauma, I get why this kind of reconstruction would be important. But as a way to give your man a special surprise? I don’t think so. Again, leaving out the possibilities of having many children or trauma, who came up with this? I’m willing to bet it was not a woman. Apparently, the procedure has come a long way, but initially it was difficult to control. So much so that normal sexual function was excruciating afterwards—but hey, as long as things were tight for the guy, who really cared, right?
Men have sagging issues, right? Gravity pulls certain sac like structures southward, too, right? Are there men lining up for sac lifts?
I will say one thing, though; I may have found one of two really great ways to get out of work without any further questions. Seriously—the first time someone questions why you are taking so much sick time at work, just throw out the following: “I’ve had complications from my vaginal rejuvenation surgery”. If anything other than silence or sputtering follows, you must be in LA.
The second “no questions asked” reason for calling out of work: complications from anal bleaching.
This is another topic of conversation so rarely heard outside of Los Angeles. I swear to you, I have heard the following sentence uttered: “Oh, he won’t date anyone who hasn’t had her asshole bleached”.
Let that sink in for a moment.
I have a number of questions, the first of which is, how the hell does someone you’ve just met know one way or another? Is it the way you walk? Because I can see how you might walk funny for a couple of days. Is this a question I’m going to face on a first date? When I’m filling out my online forms, should I not be shocked when this rolls by among the top five questions that my potential date wants to know? In addition to the war on pubic hair, do the women of Los Angeles now have to wonder if the color of their anal ring is pleasing? Should we be shooting for pearl, or something so white that the glow can be seen from space?
Normally, I’d say that my ass is not in play. But if it were in play—you know, after 20 years of begging from my loyal and dedicated husband—there better be nothing but obsequious gratitude directed my way. What should not be directed my way is the following: “Uh, so, you gonna keep it that color?”
I’m not here to judge. Goodness, who among us hasn’t thought, “Gosh, I’d love to burn my anus with a highly caustic agent tonight”? But seriously—what are we doing to ourselves?
Kate, re-thinking the whole convent thing
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Dating by Michael Scott
For those of you who did not see The Office last night, this quote will make no sense. But I think it pretty much sums up my thoughts on being single, as well:
"I like it. I like starting each day with a sense of possibility. I'm optimistic, because every day I get a little more desperate, and desperate situations yield the quickest results." Michael Scott
God bless the writers of The Office because not only did they provide us with an incredibly warm and fuzzy Jim and Pam moment (hands up if you squealed when he said he bought that a week after they started dating?), but it provided me with a sure way of actually getting a date—forever known as The Michael Scott Method.
In fact, I think I’ll employ MSM today. When I get to work, I’ll hand everyone a 3x5 index card and threaten to fire them (or have them fired if they don’t actually work with me), if they do not provide me with the name and phone number of an eligible man. Sure, the Draconian measures might slide dangerously close to illegal, but it could be time to step up and do the unexpected.
Why didn’t I think of this before? It’s brilliant. I’ve been reluctant to let people set me up on blind date’s, but I have said yes. Oddly enough, both men disappeared and were never heard from again, but that wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t even met them yet. It couldn’t have been me… or the prospect of meeting me. Probably.
Just put aside a little bail money—that’s all I’m asking.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
"I like it. I like starting each day with a sense of possibility. I'm optimistic, because every day I get a little more desperate, and desperate situations yield the quickest results." Michael Scott
God bless the writers of The Office because not only did they provide us with an incredibly warm and fuzzy Jim and Pam moment (hands up if you squealed when he said he bought that a week after they started dating?), but it provided me with a sure way of actually getting a date—forever known as The Michael Scott Method.
In fact, I think I’ll employ MSM today. When I get to work, I’ll hand everyone a 3x5 index card and threaten to fire them (or have them fired if they don’t actually work with me), if they do not provide me with the name and phone number of an eligible man. Sure, the Draconian measures might slide dangerously close to illegal, but it could be time to step up and do the unexpected.
Why didn’t I think of this before? It’s brilliant. I’ve been reluctant to let people set me up on blind date’s, but I have said yes. Oddly enough, both men disappeared and were never heard from again, but that wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t even met them yet. It couldn’t have been me… or the prospect of meeting me. Probably.
Just put aside a little bail money—that’s all I’m asking.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Sunday, April 13, 2008
A Dinner Dare
Please enjoy the following excerpt of a conversation I had with my male friend, O, about bidding on a charity auction to have dinner with David Duchovny and Nick Lea (it’s loosely reconstructed, but you’ll get the idea).
O: “$4,000 for dinner? “
K: “Yes. But it’s for charity.”
O: “$4,000 for dinner??????”
K: “Yes.”
O: “But, you’d rather be tortured than go to dinner.”
K: “True.”
O: “You’d spend $4,000 to be tortured?”
K: “Uh…”
O: “Is someone naked?”
K: “Excuse me?”
O: “Is someone naked? As in, are you eating dinner off of someone?”
K: “Um, I don’t think David or Nick have added that to the description of the evening’s activities.”
O: “Do they expect to be eating stuff off of you?”
K: “What kind of restaurants do you go to?”
O: “$4,000 for dinner?”
K: “It’s for charity.”
Sigh. It’s very difficult to explain the temptation to other people who are actually sane, and who don’t actually face the reality of this particular enticement.
The conversation started with a simple question: what would you pay to win an auction for dinner with someone you admire (or desire)? For me, the limit appears to be $4,000. It’s probably actually much less, but $4,000 is the top of what I could justify for curiosity masked by the guise of charitable giving. It’s also the rough amount of my refund, so it’s not something that I would miss. O never did give a number for how much he’d be willing to spend on Jessica Alba (or would have spent before the engagement and pregnancy aspects arrived).
I’m curious what your number would be? If David Boreanaz, or George Clooney, or Alex O’Loughlin, or [fill in the blank here with your most appropriate distraction] were up on the block for dinner (wait, why does that sound like you are actually eating them? Yeah, that’s not right. Also, gutter minds, I can see you) what would you spend?
Oh, and before you ask, no, I haven’t bid on the auction. Why? Please let me illustrate with this handy equation:
Dinner + Stress + Night = Disaster!
There was a small problem with the eBay auction, and they had to re-list, but the high bid before that happened was in the neighborhood of $3,000, so it was within my “drop-dead-and-hide-my-face-with-shame” bidding range. But I haven’t done it. I just can’t. I seriously don’t think I’d ever live through it.
If you know me, you know that dinner is not something I enjoy doing normally, particularly on someone else’s schedule. Dinner at 4pm is a lot more palatable (pun intended) than dinner at 8pm. My body just finds food after a certain hour unacceptable even under the best of circumstances, and my life of early wake up calls has left for even less wiggle room. I mean, Wolfgang Puck catered the Leatherheads after party, and I still didn’t eat (Chloe said the food was beyond wonderful). Dinner has the potential for physical complications, so I avoid it. Bidding a lot of money on dinner seems vaguely suicidal.
Did I mention that dinner combined with stress is rarely a winning combination for me? There is more than one reason that I fear a return to dating. First dates are stressful—except for the handful of you (like the Ex) who find getting to know new people “exhilarating”. Sure, it’s exhilarating—much like being thrown off a bridge without the benefit of crash mats below, or the limited comfort of a bungee cord. If you thought my clothing dramas were bad when trying to figure out what to wear to Leatherheads (an event that was essentially watching a movie in the dark if you forget the party portion), can you imagine what I would go through in order to dress myself for something like this? Hell, I’d spend another $4,000 on possible wardrobe options alone.
Also, dating should never involve food—at least not in the early stages. Even if you love to eat and don’t risk the possibility of violently re-introducing your dinner to your date, you do risk the threat of embarrassing yourself. Who wants to embrace spaghetti on a first date? The sauce alone is a high-wire act. Ever start carving into your nice, juicy steak only to find out that your new date is a vegetarian and can barely conceal his horror?
Yes, I realize that I wouldn’t be buying a “date” with David and Nick. First off, I don’t love the idea of dating two men at once in general terms—I certainly wouldn’t be comfortable with the literal sense. Second, even in my most hazy star-filled dreams, I don’t play those reindeer games with men who are married, or are in committed relationships. Also, I’m pretty sure paying for a date is edging closer and closer to the whole “prostitution” thing which is rarely linked to charity (although now that I think about it, I bet the charity would end up with a lot of money that way). Lastly, men don’t look at me for any reason, so even if these two men were single, reality would never be that kind.
I know what you are thinking, “if you hate the idea and don’t think you’ll live through it, why do you keep checking the auction site?”
Well, it’s not like I don’t appreciate every opportunity to beat myself over the head with the possibilities. It’s only the very real chance of having to finish the event in the hospital that keeps me from clicking on that “bid now” button.
DM did bring up an interesting point: if I could live through this kind of evening then actual dating won’t be nearly as painful. That’s a hard one to argue. I could look at this as extreme practice dating. We’d have the painful elements of dating, night, inferiority complex and stress, but without the other issues like having to return a phone call, or the threat of ever seeing the date again.
I know, I know—you well-adjusted types are yelling “how do you know this would be a bad thing?” or “this could be a great opportunity to network, increasing the chances of working with these guys someday”. To all of you, I just shake my head and laugh. No amount of daily affirmations ending in “and darn it, people like me” is going to erase a few decades of ineptitude when it comes to relating to men.
Regret? Now, that could be a winner. I’m looking at a mental scale with all the dangers associated with this type of reckless hopefulness on one side and the prospect of regretting inaction on the other. And right now, they are dead even.
What would you do?
Bid early, bid often: http://search.ebay.ca/_W0QQfgtpZ1QQfrppZ25QQsassZ123Q5fgoodQ5fthings
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
katedating@yahoo.com
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
O: “$4,000 for dinner? “
K: “Yes. But it’s for charity.”
O: “$4,000 for dinner??????”
K: “Yes.”
O: “But, you’d rather be tortured than go to dinner.”
K: “True.”
O: “You’d spend $4,000 to be tortured?”
K: “Uh…”
O: “Is someone naked?”
K: “Excuse me?”
O: “Is someone naked? As in, are you eating dinner off of someone?”
K: “Um, I don’t think David or Nick have added that to the description of the evening’s activities.”
O: “Do they expect to be eating stuff off of you?”
K: “What kind of restaurants do you go to?”
O: “$4,000 for dinner?”
K: “It’s for charity.”
Sigh. It’s very difficult to explain the temptation to other people who are actually sane, and who don’t actually face the reality of this particular enticement.
The conversation started with a simple question: what would you pay to win an auction for dinner with someone you admire (or desire)? For me, the limit appears to be $4,000. It’s probably actually much less, but $4,000 is the top of what I could justify for curiosity masked by the guise of charitable giving. It’s also the rough amount of my refund, so it’s not something that I would miss. O never did give a number for how much he’d be willing to spend on Jessica Alba (or would have spent before the engagement and pregnancy aspects arrived).
I’m curious what your number would be? If David Boreanaz, or George Clooney, or Alex O’Loughlin, or [fill in the blank here with your most appropriate distraction] were up on the block for dinner (wait, why does that sound like you are actually eating them? Yeah, that’s not right. Also, gutter minds, I can see you) what would you spend?
Oh, and before you ask, no, I haven’t bid on the auction. Why? Please let me illustrate with this handy equation:
Dinner + Stress + Night = Disaster!
There was a small problem with the eBay auction, and they had to re-list, but the high bid before that happened was in the neighborhood of $3,000, so it was within my “drop-dead-and-hide-my-face-with-shame” bidding range. But I haven’t done it. I just can’t. I seriously don’t think I’d ever live through it.
If you know me, you know that dinner is not something I enjoy doing normally, particularly on someone else’s schedule. Dinner at 4pm is a lot more palatable (pun intended) than dinner at 8pm. My body just finds food after a certain hour unacceptable even under the best of circumstances, and my life of early wake up calls has left for even less wiggle room. I mean, Wolfgang Puck catered the Leatherheads after party, and I still didn’t eat (Chloe said the food was beyond wonderful). Dinner has the potential for physical complications, so I avoid it. Bidding a lot of money on dinner seems vaguely suicidal.
Did I mention that dinner combined with stress is rarely a winning combination for me? There is more than one reason that I fear a return to dating. First dates are stressful—except for the handful of you (like the Ex) who find getting to know new people “exhilarating”. Sure, it’s exhilarating—much like being thrown off a bridge without the benefit of crash mats below, or the limited comfort of a bungee cord. If you thought my clothing dramas were bad when trying to figure out what to wear to Leatherheads (an event that was essentially watching a movie in the dark if you forget the party portion), can you imagine what I would go through in order to dress myself for something like this? Hell, I’d spend another $4,000 on possible wardrobe options alone.
Also, dating should never involve food—at least not in the early stages. Even if you love to eat and don’t risk the possibility of violently re-introducing your dinner to your date, you do risk the threat of embarrassing yourself. Who wants to embrace spaghetti on a first date? The sauce alone is a high-wire act. Ever start carving into your nice, juicy steak only to find out that your new date is a vegetarian and can barely conceal his horror?
Yes, I realize that I wouldn’t be buying a “date” with David and Nick. First off, I don’t love the idea of dating two men at once in general terms—I certainly wouldn’t be comfortable with the literal sense. Second, even in my most hazy star-filled dreams, I don’t play those reindeer games with men who are married, or are in committed relationships. Also, I’m pretty sure paying for a date is edging closer and closer to the whole “prostitution” thing which is rarely linked to charity (although now that I think about it, I bet the charity would end up with a lot of money that way). Lastly, men don’t look at me for any reason, so even if these two men were single, reality would never be that kind.
I know what you are thinking, “if you hate the idea and don’t think you’ll live through it, why do you keep checking the auction site?”
Well, it’s not like I don’t appreciate every opportunity to beat myself over the head with the possibilities. It’s only the very real chance of having to finish the event in the hospital that keeps me from clicking on that “bid now” button.
DM did bring up an interesting point: if I could live through this kind of evening then actual dating won’t be nearly as painful. That’s a hard one to argue. I could look at this as extreme practice dating. We’d have the painful elements of dating, night, inferiority complex and stress, but without the other issues like having to return a phone call, or the threat of ever seeing the date again.
I know, I know—you well-adjusted types are yelling “how do you know this would be a bad thing?” or “this could be a great opportunity to network, increasing the chances of working with these guys someday”. To all of you, I just shake my head and laugh. No amount of daily affirmations ending in “and darn it, people like me” is going to erase a few decades of ineptitude when it comes to relating to men.
Regret? Now, that could be a winner. I’m looking at a mental scale with all the dangers associated with this type of reckless hopefulness on one side and the prospect of regretting inaction on the other. And right now, they are dead even.
What would you do?
Bid early, bid often: http://search.ebay.ca/_W0QQfgtpZ1QQfrppZ25QQsassZ123Q5fgoodQ5fthings
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
katedating@yahoo.com
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Bones at Paley
I went over to the Paley Center this evening to see the seminar and screening for the television series "Bones". This was the first in a three part drama series that is going on in April. I’ve always enjoyed the show when I’ve seen it, but I’ve really just been a casual viewer.
I have to say, the rapport of the cast and creators was so amazingly entertaining, that I’m going to have to really start paying attention to this show. There is a genuine affection and respect among this group, and you can see why the banter works so well on screen—it’s because it works pretty darn well off screen, as well.
As with most shows, Bones was hit hard by the strike. It derailed (or at least delayed) some character exploration for “Zack” (Eric Millegan) relating to his character’s time in Iraq. Oddly enough, Eric’s real life brother is starting his second tour of duty in Iraq. The executive producers talked about how difficult it was to get the show geared up again after the strike, and about how they were very much hoping that a SAG strike can be avoided (well, except for John Francis Daley, aka Dr. Sweets, who joked “Oh, it’s happening” to hilarious effect for the audience).
The banter between Emily Deschanel and David Boreanaz was priceless. At times, it was easy to get lost and end up seeing the characters rather than the actors given some of the back and forth. I can’t even begin to explain how we got from the possibility of Bones and Booth getting married and having six children (remarkably slim, by the way) to David claiming that he wanted to have children with all the women on the show—but we got there, and it was pretty damn funny. I sincerely hope the footage ends up as one of the highlights featured at the Paley website.
They also spoke a bit about Kathy Reichs’ involvement. Apparently, she does review scripts and gives notes. They did hasten to note that Bones is not reflective of Kathy’s real life.
All in all, it was a really fun evening. I wasn’t able to stay for the screening after the panel, but I am looking forward to seeing the new episodes starting next week.
Check the paleycenter.org website for highlight clips and photos!
Kate, who discovered if you stand downstairs at Paley rather than taking your seat right away, you can see the stars as they come in for the press call (helpful tip for those traveling in to see the Moonlight panel in two weeks)
I have to say, the rapport of the cast and creators was so amazingly entertaining, that I’m going to have to really start paying attention to this show. There is a genuine affection and respect among this group, and you can see why the banter works so well on screen—it’s because it works pretty darn well off screen, as well.
As with most shows, Bones was hit hard by the strike. It derailed (or at least delayed) some character exploration for “Zack” (Eric Millegan) relating to his character’s time in Iraq. Oddly enough, Eric’s real life brother is starting his second tour of duty in Iraq. The executive producers talked about how difficult it was to get the show geared up again after the strike, and about how they were very much hoping that a SAG strike can be avoided (well, except for John Francis Daley, aka Dr. Sweets, who joked “Oh, it’s happening” to hilarious effect for the audience).
The banter between Emily Deschanel and David Boreanaz was priceless. At times, it was easy to get lost and end up seeing the characters rather than the actors given some of the back and forth. I can’t even begin to explain how we got from the possibility of Bones and Booth getting married and having six children (remarkably slim, by the way) to David claiming that he wanted to have children with all the women on the show—but we got there, and it was pretty damn funny. I sincerely hope the footage ends up as one of the highlights featured at the Paley website.
They also spoke a bit about Kathy Reichs’ involvement. Apparently, she does review scripts and gives notes. They did hasten to note that Bones is not reflective of Kathy’s real life.
All in all, it was a really fun evening. I wasn’t able to stay for the screening after the panel, but I am looking forward to seeing the new episodes starting next week.
Check the paleycenter.org website for highlight clips and photos!
Kate, who discovered if you stand downstairs at Paley rather than taking your seat right away, you can see the stars as they come in for the press call (helpful tip for those traveling in to see the Moonlight panel in two weeks)
Monday, April 07, 2008
Quick, Call a Doctor!
Arguably, my most successful relationship, certainly in the last few years, has been with television programming. My TV shows and I are very close. I’ve been through the ups and the downs: plane crashes, mysterious islands, surprise pregnancies for a barren mother, abductions, demon possessions, vampires and amnesia—and those were just my own personal issues last Tuesday. But I love television. I love getting wrapped up in stories and seeing characters really develop.
I should be ecstatically counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until all my shows return from the strike-imposed hiatus. But I’m not. The thrill is gone. It’s as though I don’t care. Clearly, this is an indication of some sort of imminent breakdown. Do I need a prescription of some sort?
At first I thought it might be because there has been such a long interruption, that absence has made me forget the rush of a new episode. But then I remember that I watch a lot of television on cable where nine months to two years can come in between seasons. So, it can’t just be interruption.
Is it disenchantment? Perhaps. I’m reminded of the baseball players strike back in 1994-1995. It took years for the fans to come back.
Is it an acknowledgment that this is just a short-term reunion? Probably. It’s not that it wont be great to see 4-8 episodes of whatever shows come back, but it’s not enough for me to care about getting re-involved in shows that held only moderate interest before the strike. Also, with all the concern of a potential actor’s strike looming, I think the back of my mind has already written in delays to the fall season, as well.
It’s not as though I’ve been without stories. I’ve just turned to books, fanfiction and in some cases, cable has provided new visual entertainment. And while I am looking forward to The Office and Moonlight, I’m not even sure I could tell you the names of the other shows I was watching in the early fall.
How do I get the feeling back? What will make me put down the books? How do I rekindle my love affair?
Kate, feeling very “eh” about the whole thing
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
I should be ecstatically counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until all my shows return from the strike-imposed hiatus. But I’m not. The thrill is gone. It’s as though I don’t care. Clearly, this is an indication of some sort of imminent breakdown. Do I need a prescription of some sort?
At first I thought it might be because there has been such a long interruption, that absence has made me forget the rush of a new episode. But then I remember that I watch a lot of television on cable where nine months to two years can come in between seasons. So, it can’t just be interruption.
Is it disenchantment? Perhaps. I’m reminded of the baseball players strike back in 1994-1995. It took years for the fans to come back.
Is it an acknowledgment that this is just a short-term reunion? Probably. It’s not that it wont be great to see 4-8 episodes of whatever shows come back, but it’s not enough for me to care about getting re-involved in shows that held only moderate interest before the strike. Also, with all the concern of a potential actor’s strike looming, I think the back of my mind has already written in delays to the fall season, as well.
It’s not as though I’ve been without stories. I’ve just turned to books, fanfiction and in some cases, cable has provided new visual entertainment. And while I am looking forward to The Office and Moonlight, I’m not even sure I could tell you the names of the other shows I was watching in the early fall.
How do I get the feeling back? What will make me put down the books? How do I rekindle my love affair?
Kate, feeling very “eh” about the whole thing
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Auto Trader Commercial?
Has anyone else seen the new Autotrader.com commercial? The commercial takes place in a bar. A lovely woman goes up to a guy and introduces herself. The guy immediately asks her how old she is. She replies, uncomfortably, that she is 37. And that's the end of the conversation. He tells her that he's looking for something younger-- much younger, and then leaves.
The point of it is that for autotrader, you can now choose the "age" of your used vehicle.
It's funny, in a painful, tragic way. Always nice to know that if I were a used car, I'd be headed for the junkyard.
Oy.
Kate, thinking it's time for a new paint job
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
The point of it is that for autotrader, you can now choose the "age" of your used vehicle.
It's funny, in a painful, tragic way. Always nice to know that if I were a used car, I'd be headed for the junkyard.
Oy.
Kate, thinking it's time for a new paint job
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
The Email and Other Thoughts for the Weekend
The Email
Back before my life took an unexpected George Clooney turn, I committed the text message sin. We had the big, dramatic goodbye scene at the reunion, and for reasons I cannot fathom, I decided to add a “to be continued” to it. Seduced by the informality of the medium, I sent birthday greetings into the ether in the direction of the Ex, only to yell “wait, no!!!!” when I sent it. When I got a reply email, I chickened out and couldn’t open it. I decided to wait for the weekend. Friday night is date night, so I got a glass of wine, and opened it. No drama. It was lovely, chatty and informative with just a touch of groveling to excuse his missing my birthday (as well he should!). While I still haven’t written him back, I’m sure I’ll get my fingers moving soon. So, the result is no harm, no foul and no tension with the situation. And I’ve started breathing again, so that’s a plus.
Baby Mama
Have you guys seen the ads for the new Tina Fey movie? She’s had no luck with relationships, and she is in her late thirties and has decided that she wants to have a baby. Hilarity ensues as she chooses her surrogate. Normally, I probably wouldn’t be all that into going to the theater to see this movie, but Tina Fey’s hapless character is named Kate. How can I not go? Characters named Kate are apparently always romantically-impaired, and it’s time I embrace the legacy.
Enchanted
Despite being preternaturally cynical when it comes to the whole concept of love and Prince Charming, I’m quite enamored with the movie Enchanted. So much so, that I had to buy it on DVD. I love that the little girl thinks she’s going to have to give up her bedroom after learning that her dad wants to get remarried and have the wife live with them. Plus, there’s nothing like singing along with “I’ve been dreaming of my true love’s kiss” while scrubbing the toilet.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Back before my life took an unexpected George Clooney turn, I committed the text message sin. We had the big, dramatic goodbye scene at the reunion, and for reasons I cannot fathom, I decided to add a “to be continued” to it. Seduced by the informality of the medium, I sent birthday greetings into the ether in the direction of the Ex, only to yell “wait, no!!!!” when I sent it. When I got a reply email, I chickened out and couldn’t open it. I decided to wait for the weekend. Friday night is date night, so I got a glass of wine, and opened it. No drama. It was lovely, chatty and informative with just a touch of groveling to excuse his missing my birthday (as well he should!). While I still haven’t written him back, I’m sure I’ll get my fingers moving soon. So, the result is no harm, no foul and no tension with the situation. And I’ve started breathing again, so that’s a plus.
Baby Mama
Have you guys seen the ads for the new Tina Fey movie? She’s had no luck with relationships, and she is in her late thirties and has decided that she wants to have a baby. Hilarity ensues as she chooses her surrogate. Normally, I probably wouldn’t be all that into going to the theater to see this movie, but Tina Fey’s hapless character is named Kate. How can I not go? Characters named Kate are apparently always romantically-impaired, and it’s time I embrace the legacy.
Enchanted
Despite being preternaturally cynical when it comes to the whole concept of love and Prince Charming, I’m quite enamored with the movie Enchanted. So much so, that I had to buy it on DVD. I love that the little girl thinks she’s going to have to give up her bedroom after learning that her dad wants to get remarried and have the wife live with them. Plus, there’s nothing like singing along with “I’ve been dreaming of my true love’s kiss” while scrubbing the toilet.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Leatherheads from Variety
I thought this was cute. How adorable is John in this? Also, I'm scanning for me and for Chloe because the cameras are pointed right at the door.
P.S. You'll have to manually remove the mute on the player.
P.S. You'll have to manually remove the mute on the player.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
For a Good Cause
If I could figure out how to link directly to the relevant page, I would. But I'm technically moronic, so that's not happening. Instead, I will paste in this letter from Nick Lea (aka The X-Files Krycek and hottest religious figure (on Men in Trees) since Father Ralph in The Thorn Birds) and tell you to check out his site for more details.
As an aside, I will now be contemplating how to crack open my piggy bank for this auction. Plus, I seem to recall the government say that there is totally no tax penalty for accessing your 401k early for important things like dinner with David Duchovny and Nick Lea. No, really. I'm 99% sure that's in the literature. Would I lie to you? Of course I would, but this time I'm really pretty sure.
=====
http://www.nicklea.com/index.htm
A Letter From Nick
Hi Everyone!
Myself and some other friends have a very close compadre that is suffering through a life threatening bout of cancer. She was diagnosed with breast cancer 2 years ago and it has now spread to her liver. Our friend Babz Chula is a widely unique and wonderful person. She is a highly respected and talented actor. She has a heart the size of Texas.
She has chosen a particular course of treatment that is not covered by our medical system in Canada and we, her community, have gathered in an attempt to help her through a very scary part of her life. To this end we have organized a number of fund raising events to help cover the cost of this very expensive undertaking.
Beginning on April 2nd 2008 people will be able to bid online for dinners with some of their fan faves from in front and behind the camera. David Duchovny and I will be available for dinner with the person who wins the bid. Chris Chris Carter is also up for grabs. I've put up some of my favorite articles of clothing from the X Files, etc. There is a complete list of actors available for dinner bids as well as other great memorabilia.
This is something that we are behind passionately. Babz is a close friend. She needs our help now. I ask you as a favor to not only take a good look at the website but to also consider a manageable donation or if the spirit moves you to bid on a dinner with David D. and I and others.
It should be fun.
Thank you so much for ALL your support. Thank you for your kindness. Please spread the word as far and wide as you can. Babz is a stranger to you all but believe me when I tell you that this is a worthy cause. You can find out all you need to know at babzchulasociety.org.
Thank you. Lots of love. See you at dinner.
Nick
===
Auction is now live at: http://search.ebay.ca/_W0QQfgtpZ1QQfrppZ25QQsassZ123Q5fgoodQ5fthings
As an aside, I will now be contemplating how to crack open my piggy bank for this auction. Plus, I seem to recall the government say that there is totally no tax penalty for accessing your 401k early for important things like dinner with David Duchovny and Nick Lea. No, really. I'm 99% sure that's in the literature. Would I lie to you? Of course I would, but this time I'm really pretty sure.
=====
http://www.nicklea.com/index.htm
A Letter From Nick
Hi Everyone!
Myself and some other friends have a very close compadre that is suffering through a life threatening bout of cancer. She was diagnosed with breast cancer 2 years ago and it has now spread to her liver. Our friend Babz Chula is a widely unique and wonderful person. She is a highly respected and talented actor. She has a heart the size of Texas.
She has chosen a particular course of treatment that is not covered by our medical system in Canada and we, her community, have gathered in an attempt to help her through a very scary part of her life. To this end we have organized a number of fund raising events to help cover the cost of this very expensive undertaking.
Beginning on April 2nd 2008 people will be able to bid online for dinners with some of their fan faves from in front and behind the camera. David Duchovny and I will be available for dinner with the person who wins the bid. Chris Chris Carter is also up for grabs. I've put up some of my favorite articles of clothing from the X Files, etc. There is a complete list of actors available for dinner bids as well as other great memorabilia.
This is something that we are behind passionately. Babz is a close friend. She needs our help now. I ask you as a favor to not only take a good look at the website but to also consider a manageable donation or if the spirit moves you to bid on a dinner with David D. and I and others.
It should be fun.
Thank you so much for ALL your support. Thank you for your kindness. Please spread the word as far and wide as you can. Babz is a stranger to you all but believe me when I tell you that this is a worthy cause. You can find out all you need to know at babzchulasociety.org.
Thank you. Lots of love. See you at dinner.
Nick
===
Auction is now live at: http://search.ebay.ca/_W0QQfgtpZ1QQfrppZ25QQsassZ123Q5fgoodQ5fthings
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
The Clooney
My goals for the evening were pretty simple: 1) live through it, 2) enjoy the movie, and, if possible 3) see Clooney at the event. Oh, and not get arrested. That one was important, too. I’m happy to report success on all fronts—although that gleam in her eye could have meant trouble for Chloe had she not decided to keep her hands to herself. ;p
Hollywood Blvd. was pretty much shut down on one side so that the limos could drop people off on the red carpet. Our limo (aka my 10 year old car) was parked in a parking garage, and we walked up to the event from there. First of all, there were a lot of people behind the barricades cheering. Naturally, I thought they were cheering for me, and I was tempted to yell back, “I know! Can you believe I’m here?” But I didn’t. Plus, at some point I realized they were probably yelling for one of the stars walking the press line (nah, it was probably me). It’s a very interesting feeling to see and hear all these people, and then be one of the people ushered in by security. While I generally don’t love “ma’am” to be directed at me, I did love “right this way, ma’am, enjoy the evening” as security guided us safely inside.
Alas, this might have been a tactical error. We should have stayed outside a bit with the press to see some of the people working the press lines. Instead, we were pretty business-like. We found a bathroom. We checked our make-up. Then we hung around in the lobby trying to look calm, cool and collected—ho hum, we do this every day. That probably would have worked, if Chloe and I hadn’t squealed when we recognized Hiro from Heroes walk in the door.
Having our “we do this all the time” covers blown, we went in to take our seats. We had followed the rules to the letter because we didn’t really want to be tossed out before the action started—oh, and we wanted to see the movie, too. ;) The invite instructions said “no cameras or recording devices allowed”. So, we left the cameras at home (note: we actually went to an event where they confiscated cameras and cellphones with cameras for later pickup, and we wanted to avoid that). Sure enough, we take our seats, and every other person in the theater had cameras with them. Lesson learned: ignore directions and pick up spy camera to wear as glasses.
While we were sitting there we saw a number of celebs come in (you can see them all at www.wireimage.com), and right before the AFI presentation started, we noticed John Krasinski take his seat. He’s hard not to notice, actually. Obviously, he’s boyishly attractive and charming, but he’s also really tall. That one is going to stand out in a crowd no matter what.
It was 7:30, but no George.
My friend LD had warned me that the celebs frequently do the press line, but don’t stay for the actual movie, and opt to head directly to the party instead. I figured George might have made the move to martini a bit earlier—if for no other reason because he directed this movie, and he might be nervous about the reaction. So, I settled in to see the movie. The AFI presentation was lovely, and the introduction of the movie was made.
And then there was a pause.
For before the movie rolled, AFI wanted to take another small moment of recognition for the inspiration, “your quarterback”, the director, Mr. George Clooney.
And there he was—looking chagrined, yet pleased; the delightful Mr. Clooney was being treated to the simultaneous swiveling of 999 heads in his direction. Now, I’m not one to wax poetic about an attractive man (shhhhh, that epic Duchovny piece was just between us), but I might just be inspired at some point to write a sonnet, or two, for George. This man is a star. For all I know he’s a complete jerk on a personal level, but his public persona is pretty darn charming.
An aside for a moment about Leatherheads—it’s a fun movie. It’s very stylish. The banter is in the tradition of the 20’s/30’s movies and the performances were solid. It never takes itself too seriously. It’s just a good time.
He stayed until everyone left the theater. He stood on the aisle and spoke to anyone who attempted to talk to him. So, naturally, we stopped to speak with him, and now we’re doing lunch next week. OR we remember this is my reality, so I didn’t actually speak to him at all.
Now before you throw stuff at your computer screen, let me explain. When we came up the aisle he was talking to several young children. The girls were dressed in formals, and they looked like little princesses. The boy was dapper complete with styling hat. So, the talented and enchanting Mr. Clooney is also nice to small children. I realize that we were standing right next to him, and he was practically done speaking to them anyway. However, I distantly recall my parents mentioning that shoving small children out of the way to babble incoherently at a dreamy star, is actually bad form. So, I resisted the urge. There was a brief moment where Chloe contemplated pinching him, since she was awfully close to his hindquarters, but she also refrained. Please feel free to admire us, and throw large sums of money our way for adhering to some of the niceties of polite society.
Plus, we thought we’d get another shot at finding our courage at the party. Unfortunately, we never did see him there. He may have only stayed a short while, and departed through one of the side doors. But we did see tons of actors from The Office who were there to cheer on John. We also saw Goran (plays Luka on ER), who was pretty dreamy in his own right. And I think, with 99% certainty, that we saw Kid Rock.
All in all, it was a good evening. I only got 4 hours of sleep between the party and having to get up for work, but going a little sleepless every once in a while is probably good for the soul. However, I may need about a month to recover from all this social time. I wouldn’t want it to warp my otherwise normal, hermit-like psyche.
Kate, already thinking of sleep
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Hollywood Blvd. was pretty much shut down on one side so that the limos could drop people off on the red carpet. Our limo (aka my 10 year old car) was parked in a parking garage, and we walked up to the event from there. First of all, there were a lot of people behind the barricades cheering. Naturally, I thought they were cheering for me, and I was tempted to yell back, “I know! Can you believe I’m here?” But I didn’t. Plus, at some point I realized they were probably yelling for one of the stars walking the press line (nah, it was probably me). It’s a very interesting feeling to see and hear all these people, and then be one of the people ushered in by security. While I generally don’t love “ma’am” to be directed at me, I did love “right this way, ma’am, enjoy the evening” as security guided us safely inside.
Alas, this might have been a tactical error. We should have stayed outside a bit with the press to see some of the people working the press lines. Instead, we were pretty business-like. We found a bathroom. We checked our make-up. Then we hung around in the lobby trying to look calm, cool and collected—ho hum, we do this every day. That probably would have worked, if Chloe and I hadn’t squealed when we recognized Hiro from Heroes walk in the door.
Having our “we do this all the time” covers blown, we went in to take our seats. We had followed the rules to the letter because we didn’t really want to be tossed out before the action started—oh, and we wanted to see the movie, too. ;) The invite instructions said “no cameras or recording devices allowed”. So, we left the cameras at home (note: we actually went to an event where they confiscated cameras and cellphones with cameras for later pickup, and we wanted to avoid that). Sure enough, we take our seats, and every other person in the theater had cameras with them. Lesson learned: ignore directions and pick up spy camera to wear as glasses.
While we were sitting there we saw a number of celebs come in (you can see them all at www.wireimage.com), and right before the AFI presentation started, we noticed John Krasinski take his seat. He’s hard not to notice, actually. Obviously, he’s boyishly attractive and charming, but he’s also really tall. That one is going to stand out in a crowd no matter what.
It was 7:30, but no George.
My friend LD had warned me that the celebs frequently do the press line, but don’t stay for the actual movie, and opt to head directly to the party instead. I figured George might have made the move to martini a bit earlier—if for no other reason because he directed this movie, and he might be nervous about the reaction. So, I settled in to see the movie. The AFI presentation was lovely, and the introduction of the movie was made.
And then there was a pause.
For before the movie rolled, AFI wanted to take another small moment of recognition for the inspiration, “your quarterback”, the director, Mr. George Clooney.
And there he was—looking chagrined, yet pleased; the delightful Mr. Clooney was being treated to the simultaneous swiveling of 999 heads in his direction. Now, I’m not one to wax poetic about an attractive man (shhhhh, that epic Duchovny piece was just between us), but I might just be inspired at some point to write a sonnet, or two, for George. This man is a star. For all I know he’s a complete jerk on a personal level, but his public persona is pretty darn charming.
An aside for a moment about Leatherheads—it’s a fun movie. It’s very stylish. The banter is in the tradition of the 20’s/30’s movies and the performances were solid. It never takes itself too seriously. It’s just a good time.
He stayed until everyone left the theater. He stood on the aisle and spoke to anyone who attempted to talk to him. So, naturally, we stopped to speak with him, and now we’re doing lunch next week. OR we remember this is my reality, so I didn’t actually speak to him at all.
Now before you throw stuff at your computer screen, let me explain. When we came up the aisle he was talking to several young children. The girls were dressed in formals, and they looked like little princesses. The boy was dapper complete with styling hat. So, the talented and enchanting Mr. Clooney is also nice to small children. I realize that we were standing right next to him, and he was practically done speaking to them anyway. However, I distantly recall my parents mentioning that shoving small children out of the way to babble incoherently at a dreamy star, is actually bad form. So, I resisted the urge. There was a brief moment where Chloe contemplated pinching him, since she was awfully close to his hindquarters, but she also refrained. Please feel free to admire us, and throw large sums of money our way for adhering to some of the niceties of polite society.
Plus, we thought we’d get another shot at finding our courage at the party. Unfortunately, we never did see him there. He may have only stayed a short while, and departed through one of the side doors. But we did see tons of actors from The Office who were there to cheer on John. We also saw Goran (plays Luka on ER), who was pretty dreamy in his own right. And I think, with 99% certainty, that we saw Kid Rock.
All in all, it was a good evening. I only got 4 hours of sleep between the party and having to get up for work, but going a little sleepless every once in a while is probably good for the soul. However, I may need about a month to recover from all this social time. I wouldn’t want it to warp my otherwise normal, hermit-like psyche.
Kate, already thinking of sleep
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Monday, March 31, 2008
T-Minus 3 Hours to Clooney
In preparation for this evening, I thought I’d do laundry. The card didn’t work.
I bought a new smartcard.
In preparation to do laundry, I gathered all my laundry into a huge basket and lugged it all to the elevator. The elevator didn’t work.
In preparation for this evening, I thought I’d dig out the base, and think about applying make-up—only to notice that somehow in the middle of the night, I’d been maimed. Apparently, I had rubbed my left eye too fiercely, and one of my nails must have been jagged. All I really know is there is a red, puffy scrape that makes me look like I’m undergoing the same affliction as one of the characters in the trailer for X-Files 2.
And I still don’t know what I’m wearing.
For her own safety, I think Chloe should really reconsider having me drive.
Kate, staring into her closet hoping for a magical designer genie to grant her three wishes in the next three hours
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
I bought a new smartcard.
In preparation to do laundry, I gathered all my laundry into a huge basket and lugged it all to the elevator. The elevator didn’t work.
In preparation for this evening, I thought I’d dig out the base, and think about applying make-up—only to notice that somehow in the middle of the night, I’d been maimed. Apparently, I had rubbed my left eye too fiercely, and one of my nails must have been jagged. All I really know is there is a red, puffy scrape that makes me look like I’m undergoing the same affliction as one of the characters in the trailer for X-Files 2.
And I still don’t know what I’m wearing.
For her own safety, I think Chloe should really reconsider having me drive.
Kate, staring into her closet hoping for a magical designer genie to grant her three wishes in the next three hours
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Festive Dress?
Say I had an invitation to an event and an after-party. Say that event was a movie premiere tomorrow night. Say that event’s invitation indicated that the dress code was “festive dress”. What the hell would that mean? I’ve looked it up online, and unless this party is actually being held on Christmas (which it is not), it’s been very little help.
So far I’ve heard: casual, but not jeans casual, unless they are really cute jeans paired with amazing shoes and designer shirt—or you are a star, then you can do what you want (just for the record: no one has ever confused me with a star). I’ve also heard: slightly less than cocktail; informal cocktail. Um… cocktail to me means the classic little black dress. I’m from the eastern part of the country where little black dress is appropriate for every event except, possibly, a morning wedding, or a marathon.
Look, I can barely dress myself for my day to day work existence, and I feel quite festive in sweatpants. “Hollywood” life is mind-numbing. I’m all for casually flouting the dress code rules, but I’d like to at least have a vague concept of what they are. I have loads of semi-formal clothing—a bit of irony really considering how much I avoid leaving the apartment. What I don’t appear to have is the “oh-this-old-informal-yet-festively-not-quite-cocktail-thing-that-I’ve-just-thrown-on”, which is apparently required.
I’m not a D-lister. I’m not a Z-lister. I’m no where near the freakin’ list. Hell, I couldn’t find the list with a GPS. And yet, I feel like I need a stylist—someone special who can explain to me what is appropriate for this kind of situation. All of this fretting is going on inside my head despite the fact that not a single person will actually look at me (it’s that fact which is keeping me semi-sane… shhhh… am so).
Sorry? What premiere/party is it?
Leatherheads.
Not kidding.
Perhaps Mr. Clooney will find my sweatpants a refreshing change of pace.
Kate, who is trying to figure out how to bring a ficus with her, so she can hide at the event. Run away!!!!!!
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
So far I’ve heard: casual, but not jeans casual, unless they are really cute jeans paired with amazing shoes and designer shirt—or you are a star, then you can do what you want (just for the record: no one has ever confused me with a star). I’ve also heard: slightly less than cocktail; informal cocktail. Um… cocktail to me means the classic little black dress. I’m from the eastern part of the country where little black dress is appropriate for every event except, possibly, a morning wedding, or a marathon.
Look, I can barely dress myself for my day to day work existence, and I feel quite festive in sweatpants. “Hollywood” life is mind-numbing. I’m all for casually flouting the dress code rules, but I’d like to at least have a vague concept of what they are. I have loads of semi-formal clothing—a bit of irony really considering how much I avoid leaving the apartment. What I don’t appear to have is the “oh-this-old-informal-yet-festively-not-quite-cocktail-thing-that-I’ve-just-thrown-on”, which is apparently required.
I’m not a D-lister. I’m not a Z-lister. I’m no where near the freakin’ list. Hell, I couldn’t find the list with a GPS. And yet, I feel like I need a stylist—someone special who can explain to me what is appropriate for this kind of situation. All of this fretting is going on inside my head despite the fact that not a single person will actually look at me (it’s that fact which is keeping me semi-sane… shhhh… am so).
Sorry? What premiere/party is it?
Leatherheads.
Not kidding.
Perhaps Mr. Clooney will find my sweatpants a refreshing change of pace.
Kate, who is trying to figure out how to bring a ficus with her, so she can hide at the event. Run away!!!!!!
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Friday, March 28, 2008
And Now a Moment With…
If you read this blog with any regularity, you know: a) my love life has replaced the standard definition of "ridiculous" in Webster’s; and b) I’m not really what any sane person would refer to as a social butterfly (more like, "girl-who-blends-with-ficus"). In fact, if I could cocoon myself away from the rest of the world, I’d probably give it a shot—most of the time. So, the project I assigned myself at The Paley Fest might seem like an odd choice.
I talked to people—a lot of people. I walked up to perfect strangers and asked them questions about what they wanted to say to Chris Carter and Frank Spotnitz (on the chance that they didn’t get to ask their questions during the evening), and for their thoughts on the upcoming movie. This act was, in fact, so remarkable for me that Dee actually took a picture of me talking to people. She felt she needed proof of the pending apocalypse (hang on, are those horsemen, I see in the Dome?).
Much like the experience at WonderCon, I was struck by how genuinely excited people were to not only reconnect with the characters, but to express their gratitude to the creators, writers, directors, production crews and actors of this show. I’ve cut together some small videos of a group of fans I interviewed that night. I swear to you, I tried to interview some men, too, but they all refused (see, even with a camera and a chance to talk to The X-Files creator, men in Los Angeles wont talk to me!).
I’m not an editor, and there was no post-sound mixing, but I think you’ll get the idea. Next time—I’m bringing a film crew. And yes, I realize I use the word “excellent” far too often. Perhaps I should rule out “on-air reporter” as my next career? Well, at least it's still slightly more likely than "relationship counselor".
Video 1: What would you like to say to Chris and/or Frank?
Video 2: Are there any "deal-breakers" for you? What needs to be in the movie? What do you not want to see?
I talked to people—a lot of people. I walked up to perfect strangers and asked them questions about what they wanted to say to Chris Carter and Frank Spotnitz (on the chance that they didn’t get to ask their questions during the evening), and for their thoughts on the upcoming movie. This act was, in fact, so remarkable for me that Dee actually took a picture of me talking to people. She felt she needed proof of the pending apocalypse (hang on, are those horsemen, I see in the Dome?).
Much like the experience at WonderCon, I was struck by how genuinely excited people were to not only reconnect with the characters, but to express their gratitude to the creators, writers, directors, production crews and actors of this show. I’ve cut together some small videos of a group of fans I interviewed that night. I swear to you, I tried to interview some men, too, but they all refused (see, even with a camera and a chance to talk to The X-Files creator, men in Los Angeles wont talk to me!).
I’m not an editor, and there was no post-sound mixing, but I think you’ll get the idea. Next time—I’m bringing a film crew. And yes, I realize I use the word “excellent” far too often. Perhaps I should rule out “on-air reporter” as my next career? Well, at least it's still slightly more likely than "relationship counselor".
Video 1: What would you like to say to Chris and/or Frank?
Video 2: Are there any "deal-breakers" for you? What needs to be in the movie? What do you not want to see?
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Paley Fest: The Recovery
Thank God I didn’t have to go to work today. I would have just spent all day online checking out fan reactions to the trailer, the montage, the panel, how incredibly hot Nick Lea is (please add him to my list of favorite distractions), and to see if Paley (paleycenter.org) had added their highlights video yet. Happily, I can do that at home, instead. J
Some things I probably forgot to mention in my delirium last night (did you notice I was up way past my bedtime?):
1. Mitch is really funny (and pretty darn attractive himself). There was one exchange early on that went something like this (not exact quotes, sorry, my note taking skills need work!)
Cynthia: Why now for the follow up feature?
Carter: Because Fox said now or never. So, we said now. And we’re really glad we did. We just finished filming 10 days ago, and that was a huge undertaking. We were running for our lives.
Mitch: You guys are doing another movie?
Carter: We only asked the popular characters (quite obviously kidding)
Bowman: Well, if I didn’t direct it, and David [Nutter] didn’t direct it, who directed it?
It was a pretty funny exchange all the way through, and it remained a running joke throughout the evening.
2. The love these writers, directors and actors have for the show was really something. It’s almost as though they had come through some sort of great battle together. I’ve certainly read theories by fans about the relationships of the behind-the-scenes people and Carter, but there seemed to be a genuine affection and bond based on what they created together. Also, Carter gave some serious shout-outs to the Morgan and Wong team, as well as some incredible production teams. He seemed absolutely sincere in his appreciation for everyone’s contribution over the years. Rob Bowman at one point said that “everyone up here was Chris’ biggest fan”.
3. I liked the moderator. She got in some pretty good one-liners during the evening. I mentioned the one about William last night. I think one of my favorites was during a conversation with Chris about where we are going to “be” in the movie.
Carter: You’re six years down the road, and we’re true to the passage of time. Mulder and Scully would have lived those six years since the show ended.
Cynthia: In a New Mexico hotel room?
It got a pretty big reaction because it seemed like the majority of the people there would be just fine if most of the movie took place in that hotel room.
4. I feel an irrational need to apologize to Glen Morgan. I wasn’t online back when the show started. In fact, I didn’t really discover the fandoms until long after the fact. And while I did loathe (with the rage of a thousand burning suns) the episode Never Again, I felt badly that the online fandom could, at times, be vicious. I hope at some point, he felt the love, too.
5. Pretty amusing exchange between Nick and Dean. Nick had been talking about how great the show was for giving him a chance to do things he’d never done before (and somewhat since).
Nick: (after describing his scene running from the exploding car) It’s not every day that you get to do that kind of stuff.
Dean: You don’t get to do that on Kyle KY?
Nick: (after much laughter) Yeah, I do porn now.
6. How much did you guys want to hug Paul Rabwin? He spoke a number of times about how everything came down to Mulder and Scully—that an episode worked, or didn’t work, based on the quality of their story within the episode.
7. Carter: “I’m not going to admit to my regrets.” LOL! Chris, it’s the same thing I say about my love life.
8. Me to Dee: “OMG, this is the real trailer” and then the screaming as the little piece of the theme music started to play. The trailer definitely leads you through a dark and scary story with some very intense Mulder and Scully action. Of course, it immediately sparked debate about the state of their particular union, but I’m absolutely still taking the day off on the 25th of July to find out more.
9. It was very cool to see Bill Roe in the audience. I’d love to be able to hire this guy one day. Let’s start a collection now!
10. As much as we can get caught up in whatever issues we may have had with the show, Paley and WonderCon events really do show that we love them. We are so incredibly grateful to them for creating the show and for continuing with the story of these two amazing characters.
More pictures once my brain un-fogs.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Some things I probably forgot to mention in my delirium last night (did you notice I was up way past my bedtime?):
1. Mitch is really funny (and pretty darn attractive himself). There was one exchange early on that went something like this (not exact quotes, sorry, my note taking skills need work!)
Cynthia: Why now for the follow up feature?
Carter: Because Fox said now or never. So, we said now. And we’re really glad we did. We just finished filming 10 days ago, and that was a huge undertaking. We were running for our lives.
Mitch: You guys are doing another movie?
Carter: We only asked the popular characters (quite obviously kidding)
Bowman: Well, if I didn’t direct it, and David [Nutter] didn’t direct it, who directed it?
It was a pretty funny exchange all the way through, and it remained a running joke throughout the evening.
2. The love these writers, directors and actors have for the show was really something. It’s almost as though they had come through some sort of great battle together. I’ve certainly read theories by fans about the relationships of the behind-the-scenes people and Carter, but there seemed to be a genuine affection and bond based on what they created together. Also, Carter gave some serious shout-outs to the Morgan and Wong team, as well as some incredible production teams. He seemed absolutely sincere in his appreciation for everyone’s contribution over the years. Rob Bowman at one point said that “everyone up here was Chris’ biggest fan”.
3. I liked the moderator. She got in some pretty good one-liners during the evening. I mentioned the one about William last night. I think one of my favorites was during a conversation with Chris about where we are going to “be” in the movie.
Carter: You’re six years down the road, and we’re true to the passage of time. Mulder and Scully would have lived those six years since the show ended.
Cynthia: In a New Mexico hotel room?
It got a pretty big reaction because it seemed like the majority of the people there would be just fine if most of the movie took place in that hotel room.
4. I feel an irrational need to apologize to Glen Morgan. I wasn’t online back when the show started. In fact, I didn’t really discover the fandoms until long after the fact. And while I did loathe (with the rage of a thousand burning suns) the episode Never Again, I felt badly that the online fandom could, at times, be vicious. I hope at some point, he felt the love, too.
5. Pretty amusing exchange between Nick and Dean. Nick had been talking about how great the show was for giving him a chance to do things he’d never done before (and somewhat since).
Nick: (after describing his scene running from the exploding car) It’s not every day that you get to do that kind of stuff.
Dean: You don’t get to do that on Kyle KY?
Nick: (after much laughter) Yeah, I do porn now.
6. How much did you guys want to hug Paul Rabwin? He spoke a number of times about how everything came down to Mulder and Scully—that an episode worked, or didn’t work, based on the quality of their story within the episode.
7. Carter: “I’m not going to admit to my regrets.” LOL! Chris, it’s the same thing I say about my love life.
8. Me to Dee: “OMG, this is the real trailer” and then the screaming as the little piece of the theme music started to play. The trailer definitely leads you through a dark and scary story with some very intense Mulder and Scully action. Of course, it immediately sparked debate about the state of their particular union, but I’m absolutely still taking the day off on the 25th of July to find out more.
9. It was very cool to see Bill Roe in the audience. I’d love to be able to hire this guy one day. Let’s start a collection now!
10. As much as we can get caught up in whatever issues we may have had with the show, Paley and WonderCon events really do show that we love them. We are so incredibly grateful to them for creating the show and for continuing with the story of these two amazing characters.
More pictures once my brain un-fogs.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
That Worked
Random X-Files gushing interruption.
Remember that "idle hands lead to the devil's test messaging" incident? Yeah, I can now officially say he got the text message. I have an email from him that I think I'll save for a time when I've had more than 4 hours of sleep.
Kate
Remember that "idle hands lead to the devil's test messaging" incident? Yeah, I can now officially say he got the text message. I have an email from him that I think I'll save for a time when I've had more than 4 hours of sleep.
Kate
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Paley Photos
I'm starting to upload. :)
All of these were taken with Dee's camera (which is very cool). There are a ton of pictures, so if you want to see more, just let me know who you'd like to see more of.
Paley 2
Just got back from the fest, and I had a great time. I met so many people, and I hope to put the fan video interviews up later tomorrow.
The highlights:
1. Got to see the full trailer. I'm sure it's up on the web by now which is key because it was very intense. I can't wait to see this movie!
2. The William question was addressed (God bless Cynthia). Chris Carter's answer to the question:
Cynthia: Baby William. Happy go lucky kid in Wisconsin, or is he setting cornfields on fire with his eyes? Give us a hint.
Chris: "It will not go unconsidered in the movie". To me, this means that the William issue wont be ignored.
3. You can't imagine our reaction seeing Mitch, Nick and Dean, again. In fact, I may have girlie screamed when I realized Nick was sitting behind us (across the aisle so when I turned my head, there he was). And I so do not girlie scream.
4. We got an amazing chance to see and hear about the process of creating the show which was a huge thrill for me.
5. They showed a montage of X-Files moments over the years, and the audience went absolutely mad for the more... um... personal moments between Mulder and Scully. You certainly couldn't tell where our minds were. ;)
I'll start pulling down pictures and post them just in case you guys are interested.
The highlights:
1. Got to see the full trailer. I'm sure it's up on the web by now which is key because it was very intense. I can't wait to see this movie!
2. The William question was addressed (God bless Cynthia). Chris Carter's answer to the question:
Cynthia: Baby William. Happy go lucky kid in Wisconsin, or is he setting cornfields on fire with his eyes? Give us a hint.
Chris: "It will not go unconsidered in the movie". To me, this means that the William issue wont be ignored.
3. You can't imagine our reaction seeing Mitch, Nick and Dean, again. In fact, I may have girlie screamed when I realized Nick was sitting behind us (across the aisle so when I turned my head, there he was). And I so do not girlie scream.
4. We got an amazing chance to see and hear about the process of creating the show which was a huge thrill for me.
5. They showed a montage of X-Files moments over the years, and the audience went absolutely mad for the more... um... personal moments between Mulder and Scully. You certainly couldn't tell where our minds were. ;)
I'll start pulling down pictures and post them just in case you guys are interested.
Paley Center
One of the more interesting things about living in Los Angeles is the amount of access you have to film and television cast/crews/productions. I was a big fan of knowing the “behind-the-scenes” type of information long before I headed out here to the land of the perky 22 year old blond. One of the best venues for this kind of thing has always been the Museum of Television and Radio/Paley Center. Each year, the Paley Fest brings on the cast and creators of television shows to talk to fans about how that show was created. In some cases, it is a chance to get fans and potential fans interested in upcoming story lines, guest stars, etc. Tonight, it’s a chance to relive the glory that was The X-Files.
I’d like to point out, that I did not know there was going to be this X-Files retrospective before I took my butt up to San Francisco—which I don’t regret at all because I got a chance to see David and Gillian, along with Chris and Frank, and I met some incredibly cool people. Tonight’s event is actually in Los Angeles. Naturally, that means that I’ve been uncertain about whether or not I’m going to go—I mean it’s so far. Sadly, I’ve been feeling like 6 different kinds of hell, but some things are more important than clutching my blankie and moaning “why me”.
Plus, I think we can all agree that idle hands lead to the devil’s text messages.
At this moment, I plan to be there. I might even reach out and meet some more very cool strangers if I go. No! Not like that. Gutter brains, all of you.
I can’t guarantee that there will be photos—most of the time you can’t take them during the panels. But if I go, I will try very hard to ask Chris Carter and Frank Spotnitz something... I was going to say something interesting, but in reality, I’ll just try not to pass out. Or I promise to force my friend to do it, instead. Oooh, the second option, definitely.
If you are curious about the panel, check back tonight, and I’ll let you know if I made it, and whatever details I retain after the drive. Maybe I'll even learn to blog from my phone. :)
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
I’d like to point out, that I did not know there was going to be this X-Files retrospective before I took my butt up to San Francisco—which I don’t regret at all because I got a chance to see David and Gillian, along with Chris and Frank, and I met some incredibly cool people. Tonight’s event is actually in Los Angeles. Naturally, that means that I’ve been uncertain about whether or not I’m going to go—I mean it’s so far. Sadly, I’ve been feeling like 6 different kinds of hell, but some things are more important than clutching my blankie and moaning “why me”.
Plus, I think we can all agree that idle hands lead to the devil’s text messages.
At this moment, I plan to be there. I might even reach out and meet some more very cool strangers if I go. No! Not like that. Gutter brains, all of you.
I can’t guarantee that there will be photos—most of the time you can’t take them during the panels. But if I go, I will try very hard to ask Chris Carter and Frank Spotnitz something... I was going to say something interesting, but in reality, I’ll just try not to pass out. Or I promise to force my friend to do it, instead. Oooh, the second option, definitely.
If you are curious about the panel, check back tonight, and I’ll let you know if I made it, and whatever details I retain after the drive. Maybe I'll even learn to blog from my phone. :)
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Loser
Today’s topic for conversation: why is Kate such a loser? What compels me to do stupid, stupid things? I’m incapable of leaving things alone if I care at all about the individual in question. I can’t just embrace the status quo and move along my merry way. If a situation is tense, and I give a shit about the person, I have to reach out and try to make it better. And to top it off, I did something that only made things more complicated. Which is shocking, frankly, because I didn’t think that was possible.
What did I do? After 10 months of zero contact, I was compelled to send The Ex a birthday text message. We’ve had no contact at all for the first time in 17 years. He didn’t acknowledge Christmas. He didn’t acknowledge my birthday. To normal human beings, this means “I’m not really interested in maintaining this friendship any longer, love ya, bye”. To me, all I saw was “hey, today’s The Ex’s birthday, awwwww”.
I was doing so well! I didn’t buy a card. I didn’t send an e-card. I was full of righteous indignation at the “well-if-that’s-the-way-he-wants-to-be-about-it”-ness of it all. I was good to go. But instead of our weekly staff meeting this morning, we had an e-meeting. This freed up some time for me. Time on my hands is apparently a bad thing because my tiny, little, infinitesimal brain was allowed to recall that I still had his cell phone number. And before you can say “Wow, that Duchovny should be naked more” my fingers were flying over the keypad.
You want to know what’s worse than me actually doing this? The text disappeared out of the outbox. I don’t know what that means. I don’t even know if his phone is text enabled. Why didn’t I just send him an email? At least that way, I could be relatively sure he got it. But nooooooooo, I had to send the text. So, now I can’t send an email on top of that because that’s just a Swingers moment waiting to happen. Nothing says “more desperate than you already look” like sending a follow-up “casual” email to confirm that receipt of text message. So, I can’t email him. And unless he responds for some reason, I wont know if he got the text. Which I shouldn’t have sent. And I shouldn’t think about. Ever.
Ugh.
Kate, banging head on desk yelling “why?” over and over again
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
What did I do? After 10 months of zero contact, I was compelled to send The Ex a birthday text message. We’ve had no contact at all for the first time in 17 years. He didn’t acknowledge Christmas. He didn’t acknowledge my birthday. To normal human beings, this means “I’m not really interested in maintaining this friendship any longer, love ya, bye”. To me, all I saw was “hey, today’s The Ex’s birthday, awwwww”.
I was doing so well! I didn’t buy a card. I didn’t send an e-card. I was full of righteous indignation at the “well-if-that’s-the-way-he-wants-to-be-about-it”-ness of it all. I was good to go. But instead of our weekly staff meeting this morning, we had an e-meeting. This freed up some time for me. Time on my hands is apparently a bad thing because my tiny, little, infinitesimal brain was allowed to recall that I still had his cell phone number. And before you can say “Wow, that Duchovny should be naked more” my fingers were flying over the keypad.
You want to know what’s worse than me actually doing this? The text disappeared out of the outbox. I don’t know what that means. I don’t even know if his phone is text enabled. Why didn’t I just send him an email? At least that way, I could be relatively sure he got it. But nooooooooo, I had to send the text. So, now I can’t send an email on top of that because that’s just a Swingers moment waiting to happen. Nothing says “more desperate than you already look” like sending a follow-up “casual” email to confirm that receipt of text message. So, I can’t email him. And unless he responds for some reason, I wont know if he got the text. Which I shouldn’t have sent. And I shouldn’t think about. Ever.
Ugh.
Kate, banging head on desk yelling “why?” over and over again
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Monday, March 24, 2008
Random Letter of Complaint to Hollywood
This is just a random letter of complaint to the Hollywood powers that be. Why doesn’t Bonnie Hunt write and direct more? I find it hard to believe that she’s out of ideas. I find it even harder to believe that Hollywood doesn’t have the money to send her way. So, what’s up?
I’m watching the movie ‘Return to Me” for the first time in a long while, and again, I am struck by how much I love this romantic comedy (comedy heavily mixed with drama, of course). It’s easily in my top 10 of all romantic comedies. One of the ones I would take if I were stranded on an island (which mysteriously has power, television and a DVD player).
It is not just because I want a Bob Rueland of my very own—although, who wouldn’t want Bob Rueland: smart, sexy, caring, dedicated and disease free? Our romantic comedies these days seem to be stuck permanently on the 20 somethings with minor forays into the early 30s if one of the actors accidentally ages while filming. Return to Me crosses generations with some excellent performances being given by the older characters—who are actually integral to the storyline, not just throwaways—including a brilliant final film performance by Carroll O'Connor. Plus, it accurately portrays how I would react if I thought a guy was looking down my shirt (THWAP!).
The movie made money. It’s charming and actually relatively appropriate across generations (minus some suggestion comments and language). And to top it off, it gave us one of the greatest dating tips of all time: “Hairy legs are your only link to reality”.
So, why doesn’t Bonnie work more? Give this woman a vehicle! Write her a check! Or write me a check, and I’ll hire her. Win-Win.
Kate, wondering why America's Prom Queen has a slot on prime time, but none of my ideas are out there, either-- for instance, the all naked George Clooney hour has real promise :)
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
I’m watching the movie ‘Return to Me” for the first time in a long while, and again, I am struck by how much I love this romantic comedy (comedy heavily mixed with drama, of course). It’s easily in my top 10 of all romantic comedies. One of the ones I would take if I were stranded on an island (which mysteriously has power, television and a DVD player).
It is not just because I want a Bob Rueland of my very own—although, who wouldn’t want Bob Rueland: smart, sexy, caring, dedicated and disease free? Our romantic comedies these days seem to be stuck permanently on the 20 somethings with minor forays into the early 30s if one of the actors accidentally ages while filming. Return to Me crosses generations with some excellent performances being given by the older characters—who are actually integral to the storyline, not just throwaways—including a brilliant final film performance by Carroll O'Connor. Plus, it accurately portrays how I would react if I thought a guy was looking down my shirt (THWAP!).
The movie made money. It’s charming and actually relatively appropriate across generations (minus some suggestion comments and language). And to top it off, it gave us one of the greatest dating tips of all time: “Hairy legs are your only link to reality”.
So, why doesn’t Bonnie work more? Give this woman a vehicle! Write her a check! Or write me a check, and I’ll hire her. Win-Win.
Kate, wondering why America's Prom Queen has a slot on prime time, but none of my ideas are out there, either-- for instance, the all naked George Clooney hour has real promise :)
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Sort of
I used to have this friend who primarily dated men who were married or otherwise attached. Needless to say, this friendship was not destined to last for long (she got mad at me for being judgmental, and I got mad at her for having no judgment at all). Her reasoning for pursuing only men with attachments was that it made her feel better—more desired, more appealing—because the men were risking something to be with her. I often thought her entire self-esteem was based on how much a man was willing to risk. Must have been a banner day when the father of a guy she was dating made his first pass.
She could never understand why women hated her. She felt like she was providing a kind of public service. If the guy got caught, she felt like the woman should thank her for exposing his tendencies—even when the guy she went after was dating a friend. On a scale from one to 10, how often do you think women thanked her for this act of generosity? Yeah, not often. I’m not saying that this girl was entirely at fault—clearly the men involved made the worst possible choices, and should be beaten with 2x4s. But there is something about the dedicated pursuit of the married/attached man to judge your own self-worth that sets my teeth on edge.
I find myself thinking about this more and more as I try to re-enter the dating world. I’m not sure why because I’m fairly certain that I wouldn’t pursue a married man (my fantasies regarding Mr. Duchovny aside). But after all these years of watching the Machiavellian machinations of daters, I do worry about what is out there.
For instance, is this very, very cute just-rolled-out-of-bed guy standing in Malibu Starbucks right now a player? Is he among the “sort of” married demographic—the guys who are technically married but seem to believe that there was a rider added to the vows along the lines of “I promise fidelity unless a really hot girl in a tight skirt wanders by me”? Did he leave his girlfriend sleeping at home thinking he’d surprise her with coffee, but in truth he’s willing to surprise her by not coming back for several hours while he romances a writer he’s just met? So many questions, so little time in between him ordering and him picking up his grande.
Dating is such a huge leap of faith—even bigger than that time when I bought the orange skirt thinking that this was the year that I’d introduce color into my wardrobe. And that was huge.
Kate, thinking that Malibu has some very attractive people, and that I need to spend more time up here
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
She could never understand why women hated her. She felt like she was providing a kind of public service. If the guy got caught, she felt like the woman should thank her for exposing his tendencies—even when the guy she went after was dating a friend. On a scale from one to 10, how often do you think women thanked her for this act of generosity? Yeah, not often. I’m not saying that this girl was entirely at fault—clearly the men involved made the worst possible choices, and should be beaten with 2x4s. But there is something about the dedicated pursuit of the married/attached man to judge your own self-worth that sets my teeth on edge.
I find myself thinking about this more and more as I try to re-enter the dating world. I’m not sure why because I’m fairly certain that I wouldn’t pursue a married man (my fantasies regarding Mr. Duchovny aside). But after all these years of watching the Machiavellian machinations of daters, I do worry about what is out there.
For instance, is this very, very cute just-rolled-out-of-bed guy standing in Malibu Starbucks right now a player? Is he among the “sort of” married demographic—the guys who are technically married but seem to believe that there was a rider added to the vows along the lines of “I promise fidelity unless a really hot girl in a tight skirt wanders by me”? Did he leave his girlfriend sleeping at home thinking he’d surprise her with coffee, but in truth he’s willing to surprise her by not coming back for several hours while he romances a writer he’s just met? So many questions, so little time in between him ordering and him picking up his grande.
Dating is such a huge leap of faith—even bigger than that time when I bought the orange skirt thinking that this was the year that I’d introduce color into my wardrobe. And that was huge.
Kate, thinking that Malibu has some very attractive people, and that I need to spend more time up here
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Phase 2 and Casting
Phase 2
Does your personality change with your hair color? This is the first time I’ve actually done major alterations to my appearance. Now that I’m firmly in phase 2 (aka Holy Crap 2: The Reckoning), I’m beginning to wonder.
I’m queen of hiding my “light” under a bushel to the point of acknowledging my near invisibility—certainly to the men of Los Angeles. But since I’ve turned my hair into a glow stick, men have started to acknowledge me. Make no mistake—I have not suddenly turned from troll to starlet. I’m still me, just with much brighter hair. There hasn’t been any amazing makeover magic. Yesterday, a guy at a stop light actually smiled and waved to me. I waved back out of habit, assuming I knew the man. Nope, didn’t know him. He just decided to wave and smile at me. Actually, it was more like grin… a big grin… Alright, I suppose it’s possible that he was actually laughing at me. But at the time it seemed on the friendly side of the spectrum rather than a grin born of malice.
Perhaps it’s just that the human eye immediately goes to the lightest thing on the screen, on a painting or in the car next to you. Had there been a blond on the other side of him, she would have gotten the wave.
Anyway, I’m not quite sure what to do with this. I’m pretty sure the first step is to stop looking over my shoulder for the person the guy is really trying to attract. Although, admittedly, I do tend to assume that there is a clock over head.
Who Should Play You?
Friends of mine have suggested that this blog should become a book or webseries. I like the idea of the book quite a bit, but since I’m fairly bad at writing with any consistency—and I have no clear direction, it could take me several decades to get the accomplished. The web series would be more immediate, but it would cost money. But I’ve started thinking about who I would hire to play the main “characters”. So far, my friend Chloe thinks that Paul Walker should play her boyfriend. I’m not sure Paul is doing web work right now, but I’ve noted the suggestion.
If you were to be portrayed in a movie, TV show or webseries, who do you want to play you? The only thing I know for sure is that I’d like the person who plays me to have a better ass. Sounds reasonable, right? It’s a given that she’ll be taller.
Kate, trying decide who among the fab four will play my boyfriend--- oooh maybe a rotating cast to keep fans guessing
Katedating@yahoo.com
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
Does your personality change with your hair color? This is the first time I’ve actually done major alterations to my appearance. Now that I’m firmly in phase 2 (aka Holy Crap 2: The Reckoning), I’m beginning to wonder.
I’m queen of hiding my “light” under a bushel to the point of acknowledging my near invisibility—certainly to the men of Los Angeles. But since I’ve turned my hair into a glow stick, men have started to acknowledge me. Make no mistake—I have not suddenly turned from troll to starlet. I’m still me, just with much brighter hair. There hasn’t been any amazing makeover magic. Yesterday, a guy at a stop light actually smiled and waved to me. I waved back out of habit, assuming I knew the man. Nope, didn’t know him. He just decided to wave and smile at me. Actually, it was more like grin… a big grin… Alright, I suppose it’s possible that he was actually laughing at me. But at the time it seemed on the friendly side of the spectrum rather than a grin born of malice.
Perhaps it’s just that the human eye immediately goes to the lightest thing on the screen, on a painting or in the car next to you. Had there been a blond on the other side of him, she would have gotten the wave.
Anyway, I’m not quite sure what to do with this. I’m pretty sure the first step is to stop looking over my shoulder for the person the guy is really trying to attract. Although, admittedly, I do tend to assume that there is a clock over head.
Who Should Play You?
Friends of mine have suggested that this blog should become a book or webseries. I like the idea of the book quite a bit, but since I’m fairly bad at writing with any consistency—and I have no clear direction, it could take me several decades to get the accomplished. The web series would be more immediate, but it would cost money. But I’ve started thinking about who I would hire to play the main “characters”. So far, my friend Chloe thinks that Paul Walker should play her boyfriend. I’m not sure Paul is doing web work right now, but I’ve noted the suggestion.
If you were to be portrayed in a movie, TV show or webseries, who do you want to play you? The only thing I know for sure is that I’d like the person who plays me to have a better ass. Sounds reasonable, right? It’s a given that she’ll be taller.
Kate, trying decide who among the fab four will play my boyfriend--- oooh maybe a rotating cast to keep fans guessing
Katedating@yahoo.com
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
Friday, March 21, 2008
Fire Sale
I’m completely fascinated by this guy who is selling his life on eBay. You heard me correctly—he is selling his life (minus his physical person and name) on eBay. He’s an Australian 44 year old man who has recently gone through a divorce. He wants to get rid of the old and start over, again. The most amazing thing: he’s not just selling his stuff. You don’t just get to buy his house, spa and big screen TV. No, you also get his friends and his job!
He is looking for people who want to step into a new life. It sounds amazingly tempting in theory. Sure, you would still have to solidify your relationship with his group of “amazing” friends, but what an incredible head start if you are new to the country. My friend PT loves at least one Australian (bring on Alex O’Loughlin), so she might actually consider this. I’d consider it, but his life seems to come with an adventure package, and my idea of adventure is eating after 4pm. So, maybe not a great fit for me. Plus, there is that lengthy plane ride to Perth. I’m not sure I have that many hours of distracting Clooney/Duchovny/O’Loughlin/Hamm goodness stashed on my iPod (not to mention the battery would die before I got even half way there). Other than that, a new life might be tempting right now.
The whole thing got me thinking about how I would go about selling off my life. Frankly, I’m not sure I could give it away. I quite like my friends, and I’m wondering how they would react to having a new person dropped on them. Come to think of it, they’d probably be fine, as long as the person was more social. Would I sell off each individual item and/or friend, or is it more of a collective sale? If x friend is a novelist, y friend is a producer and z friend is an actress, would they have to be willing to incorporate this new person into their work, too? Hmmmm. What about my friends who are really entertaining, but can't make this new person famous? Ok, friends, you need to start marketing yourself so I can sell you to the highest bidder. MWHAA HAAA HAAA. Sure, that sounds illegal, but apparently, you can sell the concept of friendship, just not the actual person in an auction.
I’m not sure I have anything else to sell. I don’t own a home. My car is 10 years old. I have those Jimmy Choos, but otherwise, I’m not sure the bitchin’ Banana Republic/JCrew wardrobe is going to be a big seller. Also, I’m fairly certain that my job might object if I just did a swap with someone—something to do with the confidentiality issues, I think.
I can’t wait to see how much someone is willing to bid for this person’s life. Would you ever consider this? And what would the auction reserve price be for your life?
Kate, I'm thinking I wont take less than $1.50 ;)
http://katedating.blogspot.com
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
katedating@yahoo.com
He is looking for people who want to step into a new life. It sounds amazingly tempting in theory. Sure, you would still have to solidify your relationship with his group of “amazing” friends, but what an incredible head start if you are new to the country. My friend PT loves at least one Australian (bring on Alex O’Loughlin), so she might actually consider this. I’d consider it, but his life seems to come with an adventure package, and my idea of adventure is eating after 4pm. So, maybe not a great fit for me. Plus, there is that lengthy plane ride to Perth. I’m not sure I have that many hours of distracting Clooney/Duchovny/O’Loughlin/Hamm goodness stashed on my iPod (not to mention the battery would die before I got even half way there). Other than that, a new life might be tempting right now.
The whole thing got me thinking about how I would go about selling off my life. Frankly, I’m not sure I could give it away. I quite like my friends, and I’m wondering how they would react to having a new person dropped on them. Come to think of it, they’d probably be fine, as long as the person was more social. Would I sell off each individual item and/or friend, or is it more of a collective sale? If x friend is a novelist, y friend is a producer and z friend is an actress, would they have to be willing to incorporate this new person into their work, too? Hmmmm. What about my friends who are really entertaining, but can't make this new person famous? Ok, friends, you need to start marketing yourself so I can sell you to the highest bidder. MWHAA HAAA HAAA. Sure, that sounds illegal, but apparently, you can sell the concept of friendship, just not the actual person in an auction.
I’m not sure I have anything else to sell. I don’t own a home. My car is 10 years old. I have those Jimmy Choos, but otherwise, I’m not sure the bitchin’ Banana Republic/JCrew wardrobe is going to be a big seller. Also, I’m fairly certain that my job might object if I just did a swap with someone—something to do with the confidentiality issues, I think.
I can’t wait to see how much someone is willing to bid for this person’s life. Would you ever consider this? And what would the auction reserve price be for your life?
Kate, I'm thinking I wont take less than $1.50 ;)
http://katedating.blogspot.com
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
katedating@yahoo.com
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Frustration
My life has been an exercise in frustration lately…more than lately… say, for the last decade. And I don’t mean sexual frustration—although if they could figure out how to harness that, I’d single-handedly eliminate the country’s dependence on foreign oil. It just seems as though very little is easy right now. Relationships, my job, my hair, even my television watching has all been absurd.
It’s obvious what I have to do.
What? Pursue my hobbies to a point where I could leave my job and potentially meet more people leading to a successful relationship? Well, yeah, alright, that’s one way to go—if you’re sane. I think we’ve established on which part of the whole “sane” spectrum I land.
Instead, I believe in taking solace in a little bit of fantasy. I don’t mean I’ll be wearing a French maid’s costume to work any time soon—although it would be very funny given how staid and reserved things are. No, I believe in indulging in some fantasy boy time.
If you’ve been reading this blog at all in the last few weeks, you know that I find David Duchovny to be a very pleasant distraction (very, very, very, very pleasant). For instance, I hate flying. If you add a rainstorm and turbulence so bad that the flight attendants stay belted in for the entire flight, and normally, I’d be having a rough time of it. That perfectly describes my flight back from WonderCon. Did I freak out? Nope. I just put my headphones on and listened to the recording of The X-Files panel on my iPod. The dulcet tones of the whole X-Files gang kept a grin on my face nearly the entire way.
Distraction is a good thing when frustration bombards me. It keeps me from trying to dye my hair red in stages so that I look like a mutant zebra. So, I propose distraction in the form of the fearsome foursome: Duchovny, Hamm, O’Loughlin and Clooney. Technically speaking, the Duchovster has already done his job. We can check him off the list (although if he feels the need to pop up any time soon and offer me a position on Californication, he should feel free to do that). That leaves three potentially entertaining distractions to be experienced. The situation has to be live action (no movie watching will count). I don't have to talk to them, just encounter. Also, I tend to like to avoid illegal things, so I'm invoking happenstance (just in case that's actually possible)!
It doesn’t matter that I’ve never seen these three men walking down my street. It doesn’t matter that I’ve never been on set with them (as opposed to Duchovny). The only thing that matters is that I am determined to have a little fun. Instead of dwelling on aging and what gravity is doing to my breasts, bring on the boys!
Kate, hoping that this means these three will be wandering through my living room because I hadn’t banked on actually leaving the apartment for this adventure.
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
It’s obvious what I have to do.
What? Pursue my hobbies to a point where I could leave my job and potentially meet more people leading to a successful relationship? Well, yeah, alright, that’s one way to go—if you’re sane. I think we’ve established on which part of the whole “sane” spectrum I land.
Instead, I believe in taking solace in a little bit of fantasy. I don’t mean I’ll be wearing a French maid’s costume to work any time soon—although it would be very funny given how staid and reserved things are. No, I believe in indulging in some fantasy boy time.
If you’ve been reading this blog at all in the last few weeks, you know that I find David Duchovny to be a very pleasant distraction (very, very, very, very pleasant). For instance, I hate flying. If you add a rainstorm and turbulence so bad that the flight attendants stay belted in for the entire flight, and normally, I’d be having a rough time of it. That perfectly describes my flight back from WonderCon. Did I freak out? Nope. I just put my headphones on and listened to the recording of The X-Files panel on my iPod. The dulcet tones of the whole X-Files gang kept a grin on my face nearly the entire way.
Distraction is a good thing when frustration bombards me. It keeps me from trying to dye my hair red in stages so that I look like a mutant zebra. So, I propose distraction in the form of the fearsome foursome: Duchovny, Hamm, O’Loughlin and Clooney. Technically speaking, the Duchovster has already done his job. We can check him off the list (although if he feels the need to pop up any time soon and offer me a position on Californication, he should feel free to do that). That leaves three potentially entertaining distractions to be experienced. The situation has to be live action (no movie watching will count). I don't have to talk to them, just encounter. Also, I tend to like to avoid illegal things, so I'm invoking happenstance (just in case that's actually possible)!
It doesn’t matter that I’ve never seen these three men walking down my street. It doesn’t matter that I’ve never been on set with them (as opposed to Duchovny). The only thing that matters is that I am determined to have a little fun. Instead of dwelling on aging and what gravity is doing to my breasts, bring on the boys!
Kate, hoping that this means these three will be wandering through my living room because I hadn’t banked on actually leaving the apartment for this adventure.
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Saturday, March 15, 2008
What Would You Call That?
Different is nice, but it sure isn’t pretty.
Pretty is what it’s about.
I never met anyone who was different.
Who couldn’t figure that out?
“At The Ballet”, A Chorus Line
I’ve learned a couple of things so far in life, but one of the most important is: when the hair dresser says “well, it will certainly be different” that’s not necessarily a good thing. When she says it after looking at the sample photos and then looking at your face, it’s time to rethink. You’ll be proud of me for my intent to evolve. But I’m not stupid. So, rather than stripping the hair, we’re taking this magical butterfly-like metamorphosis in stages. My hair is (was) really dark, so we’re somewhere in Stage 1now: the launch.
When she said she was going to add highlights to start lightening process, I figured you wouldn’t be able to see much difference. Ha! Shows you I never made it to beauty school. Before my hair was dark brown with a roan base, now it is many, many different colors. Part of it is a light copper color, and I think that’s how the red will start showing up. It’s sort of Monet-like at the moment. When you get too close, it’s this weird jumble of all these different colors. But if you step back (a mile, or two) it isn’t too bad. Stage 2 comes next month, I think-- right before Alex O'Loughlin night. Frankly, the only thing keeping me from freaking out entirely (you know besides the “holy crap” exclamation when I first saw it) is that I can always dye it darker all at once.
Progress. Slow, but steady progress.
Kate, who jumps every time she looks in a mirror
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Pretty is what it’s about.
I never met anyone who was different.
Who couldn’t figure that out?
“At The Ballet”, A Chorus Line
I’ve learned a couple of things so far in life, but one of the most important is: when the hair dresser says “well, it will certainly be different” that’s not necessarily a good thing. When she says it after looking at the sample photos and then looking at your face, it’s time to rethink. You’ll be proud of me for my intent to evolve. But I’m not stupid. So, rather than stripping the hair, we’re taking this magical butterfly-like metamorphosis in stages. My hair is (was) really dark, so we’re somewhere in Stage 1now: the launch.
When she said she was going to add highlights to start lightening process, I figured you wouldn’t be able to see much difference. Ha! Shows you I never made it to beauty school. Before my hair was dark brown with a roan base, now it is many, many different colors. Part of it is a light copper color, and I think that’s how the red will start showing up. It’s sort of Monet-like at the moment. When you get too close, it’s this weird jumble of all these different colors. But if you step back (a mile, or two) it isn’t too bad. Stage 2 comes next month, I think-- right before Alex O'Loughlin night. Frankly, the only thing keeping me from freaking out entirely (you know besides the “holy crap” exclamation when I first saw it) is that I can always dye it darker all at once.
Progress. Slow, but steady progress.
Kate, who jumps every time she looks in a mirror
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Friday, March 14, 2008
Mid-Life Crisis Day 3
Mid-Life Crisis Day 3
I just took a test, and it is official: I am entering an official mid-life crisis. No, seriously, it was a test called “Are You Headed for a Mid-life Crisis” by Mary Kearl. I scored a nine out of 10. The only one I missed was the suicide question. Apparently, I’m too apathetic for suicide. Which I guess is a good thing? Sort of sounds like a backhanded compliment to me, but whatever…
The test results didn’t really give a clear answer on what to do to get out of this particular situation if you aren’t a guy (ie have affair with 25 year old blond and buy sports car). So, I’m sticking with my current plan: somewhat frequent flights of fancy. Tomorrow, I will become a redhead. No worries—several of you expressed concerns about me going strawberry blond. That will not happen. Also as gorgeous as Gillian looks, I will not be going Scully red. Sadly, I could never pull that off. But never fear, change is coming, and I’m sure people at work will be entertained. Maybe I need to change my hair color every couple of months just to keep them guessing. Perhaps I’ll find red to be too sedate and show up at the office rocking some electric blue.
An Awkward Thing About LA
If you are in Ohio and jamming along to Bree Sharp’s “David Duchovny” song, the people around you might think you are strange (well, ok, definitely), but for the most part, you’ll be fine. If you are singing it at the top of your lungs in Malibu, you might want to think twice. I was tooling up the coast line yesterday (reveling in my birthday vacation days). It was in the mid-70’s, so the windows were open, and I was singing along (badly), and then I thought… the person driving next to me might actually know this guy. And God help me, if he had pulled up next to me at a stop light. Can you imagine how strange that would be—to have total strangers singing about you not loving them on the way to Starbucks? Yeah, it was just an odd feeling. I quickly turned to the far hipper “Love Will Keep Us Together”. It’s just much less embarrassing to be caught singing along to Captain & Tennille.
Kate, we who are about to dye salute you!
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
I just took a test, and it is official: I am entering an official mid-life crisis. No, seriously, it was a test called “Are You Headed for a Mid-life Crisis” by Mary Kearl. I scored a nine out of 10. The only one I missed was the suicide question. Apparently, I’m too apathetic for suicide. Which I guess is a good thing? Sort of sounds like a backhanded compliment to me, but whatever…
The test results didn’t really give a clear answer on what to do to get out of this particular situation if you aren’t a guy (ie have affair with 25 year old blond and buy sports car). So, I’m sticking with my current plan: somewhat frequent flights of fancy. Tomorrow, I will become a redhead. No worries—several of you expressed concerns about me going strawberry blond. That will not happen. Also as gorgeous as Gillian looks, I will not be going Scully red. Sadly, I could never pull that off. But never fear, change is coming, and I’m sure people at work will be entertained. Maybe I need to change my hair color every couple of months just to keep them guessing. Perhaps I’ll find red to be too sedate and show up at the office rocking some electric blue.
An Awkward Thing About LA
If you are in Ohio and jamming along to Bree Sharp’s “David Duchovny” song, the people around you might think you are strange (well, ok, definitely), but for the most part, you’ll be fine. If you are singing it at the top of your lungs in Malibu, you might want to think twice. I was tooling up the coast line yesterday (reveling in my birthday vacation days). It was in the mid-70’s, so the windows were open, and I was singing along (badly), and then I thought… the person driving next to me might actually know this guy. And God help me, if he had pulled up next to me at a stop light. Can you imagine how strange that would be—to have total strangers singing about you not loving them on the way to Starbucks? Yeah, it was just an odd feeling. I quickly turned to the far hipper “Love Will Keep Us Together”. It’s just much less embarrassing to be caught singing along to Captain & Tennille.
Kate, we who are about to dye salute you!
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
How to Start a Mid-Life Crisis
Today is my birthday, and I’m happy to report that my mid-life crisis has begun in earnest. I find the best way to get a head start on one of these things is some sort of explosion, or mechanical (swiftly followed by a mental) breakdown. So, naturally, my birthday began when the power went out at 3:30 this morning… and then I eagerly took a cold shower when the power still wasn’t on five hours later. Not to worry, though, the power absolutely came back on two minutes after I got out.
As you may recall, the last time power failed in my neck of the woods, it was the day I found out The Ex was getting married. I’m willing to concede that my level of psychosis that day may have blown out the grid. Apparently, the rising tide of unfounded feelings of betrayal somehow contributed to the blowing up of a local transformer.
Now, while I haven’t exactly embraced this birthday (please picture my nails scraping against the precipice as I claw against the gravity pulling me ever closer to the end of my 30s), I don’t think I can be held responsible for the power outage this morning. Unless, of course, it was one hell of a dream I was having. I have only a vague recollection of both Duchovny and Clooney fighting over me (boys… boys… don’t fight. I’ll just date both of you until we work it out).
It’s not that this birthday hasn’t had some upsides: lovely celebrations with friends and The X-Files gang very generously held a press conference for me today (really, guys, above and beyond giving me new footage to obsess over… what? Had something to do with the movie, and had nothing to do with my birthday? Why are you always so negative?).
There is really only one thing that nudged me closer to the cliff: for the first time in 17 years, I didn’t hear from him. It’s not exactly a surprise: he is married, and we haven’t had contact since we said goodbye at the reunion last year. I’m not suggesting that I was looking for some romanticized gesture, but despite the fact that we’ve stopped corresponding, I still believed he would reach out—some gesture that said “I’m still out here, and I give a shit”. It’s left me feeling bereft, wondering how I managed to be relegated to just someone he used to know.
Never fear, though. I will not backslide. I will not wallow (much) in self-pity and ice cream. I will not start singing from the Gloria Gaynor songbook. I will, instead, dye my hair mid-life crisis red. I have an appointment Saturday, and I think I’m going to do it. If you know me in real life, by Saturday afternoon, you won’t recognize me. In fact, I won’t recognize me. And I think that’s the point.
Kate, planning on looking like Amy Adams by Saturday (but will end up looking like Scooby Doo’s Thelma if she stole Daphne’s wig)
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
As you may recall, the last time power failed in my neck of the woods, it was the day I found out The Ex was getting married. I’m willing to concede that my level of psychosis that day may have blown out the grid. Apparently, the rising tide of unfounded feelings of betrayal somehow contributed to the blowing up of a local transformer.
Now, while I haven’t exactly embraced this birthday (please picture my nails scraping against the precipice as I claw against the gravity pulling me ever closer to the end of my 30s), I don’t think I can be held responsible for the power outage this morning. Unless, of course, it was one hell of a dream I was having. I have only a vague recollection of both Duchovny and Clooney fighting over me (boys… boys… don’t fight. I’ll just date both of you until we work it out).
It’s not that this birthday hasn’t had some upsides: lovely celebrations with friends and The X-Files gang very generously held a press conference for me today (really, guys, above and beyond giving me new footage to obsess over… what? Had something to do with the movie, and had nothing to do with my birthday? Why are you always so negative?).
There is really only one thing that nudged me closer to the cliff: for the first time in 17 years, I didn’t hear from him. It’s not exactly a surprise: he is married, and we haven’t had contact since we said goodbye at the reunion last year. I’m not suggesting that I was looking for some romanticized gesture, but despite the fact that we’ve stopped corresponding, I still believed he would reach out—some gesture that said “I’m still out here, and I give a shit”. It’s left me feeling bereft, wondering how I managed to be relegated to just someone he used to know.
Never fear, though. I will not backslide. I will not wallow (much) in self-pity and ice cream. I will not start singing from the Gloria Gaynor songbook. I will, instead, dye my hair mid-life crisis red. I have an appointment Saturday, and I think I’m going to do it. If you know me in real life, by Saturday afternoon, you won’t recognize me. In fact, I won’t recognize me. And I think that’s the point.
Kate, planning on looking like Amy Adams by Saturday (but will end up looking like Scooby Doo’s Thelma if she stole Daphne’s wig)
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Monday, March 10, 2008
Blog Tagged
Apparently, I’ve been blog tagged (http://danielletbd.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-tag.html). I don’t exactly know if I’m doing this correctly, or not, but I figure I’m allowed to alter some of the rules because I’m adorable, and my mid-life crisis can’t take any more drama. As far as the rules go, I’m supposed to tell you seven odd or previously unknown things about me, and then I’m supposed to tag seven other bloggers. We’ll ignore the fact that I’m not sure I know seven other bloggers for the moment.
1. If George Clooney really is engaged to Ms. Larson (as reported by Perez Hilton), I’m actually happy for him. I know the first marriage didn’t work out, but I’m willing to bet he’s a bit more mature this time around. Good luck to them! And George, if you aren’t engaged, call me.
2. I look upon high school reunion news emails with more than a little trepidation. Actually, I look at them as though they are harbingers for doom. Right now the girls are exchanging “survey” emails about their 2.3 kids and their virile (yet sensitive) husbands. It’s not that I’m not thrilled to receive word from people I barely remember. I’m actually beside myself with joy. But the urge to screw with these people is almost overwhelming. I was valedictorian of my class, so it should be something good. Spreading a simple dot com billionaire gone bust story won’t cut it. I’m seriously contemplating a masterful work of fiction—or stabbing the next person who sends me a survey with the question, “when was the last time you were decently kissed”.
3. While disgusted by Mr. Spitzer’s possible “Client #9” status, I did take a moment to seriously contemplate the allegation that he paid for a “4 hour sex romp” with a call girl. Four hours? Sure, it’s probably not the truth and just one of the many rumors that will float, but I will admit that there was a second of admiration there. I can’t remember the last time I had a four hour sex romp. Actually, I can’t remember the last time I had sex. Have no fears though, the admiration lasted about a nanosecond before I went back to being disgusted on behalf of his wife and three teenage daughters. Thank you, “Mr. Clean”. Hope that ethics reform campaign works out for you.
4. I’ve been stood up more than once. I’ve learned that by hour three, you can officially stop justifying the missing date with “must have hit some rough traffic”. Only one of the dates had a good excuse: he was in jail. Not kidding.
5. I consider myself a pretty big X-Files fan (no, that’s neither the surprise, nor the thing about me you didn’t know). This factoid will only make sense to other X-Files fans. I loathe, loathe, loathe (with the raging fire of a thousand burning suns) the episode “Never Again”. It’s not the acting: Gillian Anderson is absolutely brilliant in it. It’s not the voice over: who doesn’t love Jodie Foster? It’s not that I don’t understand a story of rebellion and character development. It’s not that “Ed Jerse” isn’t hot: Hello! It’s that this episode’s intent was to destroy the Mulder/Scully relationship (not romance, relationship). The stated purpose of this (and another episode I loathe: The Field Where I Died) was to continue to create an atmosphere of betrayal (culminating in Mulder being institutionalized for his own good) which then would have led to a rebuilding year. What, in the midst of her cancer arc? Didn’t Morgan and Wong get the memo about the cancer arc? Do this in season 2, and I could have handled it. Doing it in season 4 after all the characters had been through—unacceptable. I will, however, still be friends with you even if you find redeemable qualities in this episode. Want to read more from the writers themselves? http://web.archive.org/web/20060327040940/http://www.morganandwongonline.com/paula14.htm
6. For years I kept pictures up in my apartment of people I couldn’t stand. They weren’t solo shots, or wanted posters, they were group photos that included people who were no longer in my life. I think I kept them as reminders, warnings of situations and personalities to avoid. Either that, or I was just really lazy.
7. I once went out on a date with a guy (no, that’s not the shocking part) who was gorgeous, smart and willing to spend a lot of time engaged in deep, meaningful conversation. I must admit, I was smitten despite my already unfortunate track record with men. He spent a significant portion of our time on this date convincing me that his mission was to restore my faith and ability to trust in men. As we were saying goodnight, I told him that I thought I might like this particular mission of his. He never asked me out, again.
I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.
And now for my tags:
Because Life Is Short, ADD Theater, KissyBoots, Anna, Stephanie, Mel, We Are Not A Muse
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
1. If George Clooney really is engaged to Ms. Larson (as reported by Perez Hilton), I’m actually happy for him. I know the first marriage didn’t work out, but I’m willing to bet he’s a bit more mature this time around. Good luck to them! And George, if you aren’t engaged, call me.
2. I look upon high school reunion news emails with more than a little trepidation. Actually, I look at them as though they are harbingers for doom. Right now the girls are exchanging “survey” emails about their 2.3 kids and their virile (yet sensitive) husbands. It’s not that I’m not thrilled to receive word from people I barely remember. I’m actually beside myself with joy. But the urge to screw with these people is almost overwhelming. I was valedictorian of my class, so it should be something good. Spreading a simple dot com billionaire gone bust story won’t cut it. I’m seriously contemplating a masterful work of fiction—or stabbing the next person who sends me a survey with the question, “when was the last time you were decently kissed”.
3. While disgusted by Mr. Spitzer’s possible “Client #9” status, I did take a moment to seriously contemplate the allegation that he paid for a “4 hour sex romp” with a call girl. Four hours? Sure, it’s probably not the truth and just one of the many rumors that will float, but I will admit that there was a second of admiration there. I can’t remember the last time I had a four hour sex romp. Actually, I can’t remember the last time I had sex. Have no fears though, the admiration lasted about a nanosecond before I went back to being disgusted on behalf of his wife and three teenage daughters. Thank you, “Mr. Clean”. Hope that ethics reform campaign works out for you.
4. I’ve been stood up more than once. I’ve learned that by hour three, you can officially stop justifying the missing date with “must have hit some rough traffic”. Only one of the dates had a good excuse: he was in jail. Not kidding.
5. I consider myself a pretty big X-Files fan (no, that’s neither the surprise, nor the thing about me you didn’t know). This factoid will only make sense to other X-Files fans. I loathe, loathe, loathe (with the raging fire of a thousand burning suns) the episode “Never Again”. It’s not the acting: Gillian Anderson is absolutely brilliant in it. It’s not the voice over: who doesn’t love Jodie Foster? It’s not that I don’t understand a story of rebellion and character development. It’s not that “Ed Jerse” isn’t hot: Hello! It’s that this episode’s intent was to destroy the Mulder/Scully relationship (not romance, relationship). The stated purpose of this (and another episode I loathe: The Field Where I Died) was to continue to create an atmosphere of betrayal (culminating in Mulder being institutionalized for his own good) which then would have led to a rebuilding year. What, in the midst of her cancer arc? Didn’t Morgan and Wong get the memo about the cancer arc? Do this in season 2, and I could have handled it. Doing it in season 4 after all the characters had been through—unacceptable. I will, however, still be friends with you even if you find redeemable qualities in this episode. Want to read more from the writers themselves? http://web.archive.org/web/20060327040940/http://www.morganandwongonline.com/paula14.htm
6. For years I kept pictures up in my apartment of people I couldn’t stand. They weren’t solo shots, or wanted posters, they were group photos that included people who were no longer in my life. I think I kept them as reminders, warnings of situations and personalities to avoid. Either that, or I was just really lazy.
7. I once went out on a date with a guy (no, that’s not the shocking part) who was gorgeous, smart and willing to spend a lot of time engaged in deep, meaningful conversation. I must admit, I was smitten despite my already unfortunate track record with men. He spent a significant portion of our time on this date convincing me that his mission was to restore my faith and ability to trust in men. As we were saying goodnight, I told him that I thought I might like this particular mission of his. He never asked me out, again.
I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.
And now for my tags:
Because Life Is Short, ADD Theater, KissyBoots, Anna, Stephanie, Mel, We Are Not A Muse
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Saturday, March 08, 2008
An LA Story
I went to the movies today with friends to celebrate my impending mid-life crisis, and I noticed some things that seemed uniquely L.A. to me.
First, what does it say about the state of our society when “no weapons allowed” is a sign on every door at the local AMC? Sure, during the great “bee” incident during the first X-Files film, I might have been inclined to start shooting, but I refrained. I had self-control. How often do people think to themselves “ooh, I’m going to see a romantic comedy, better bring the Glock”? Do the concession people routinely find people trying to stab them when they realize that a small popcorn and drink cost more than the movie? How did we get to a point where we need the “no weapons allowed” warning at the front of a theater? I know everyone’s a critic, but I think bringing ammunition is a little extreme.
The second thing I noticed today: a woman with a leashed dog. Did I mention that she was in the theater? Look, I love dogs. I’m even mildly entertained by people who bring their dogs shopping with them. Most of the malls here have outdoor elements to them, so it’s not wildly unusual. As long as they aren’t lifting their legs in Bloomingdales, I’m good. But I’ve honestly never considered bringing a pet to the movies with me. Obviously, I don’t know the dog, so perhaps he really did have a thing for historical fantasy, and 10,000 BC was a treat.
We’ve embraced small, adorable dogs. What about bigger, adorable dogs? If I want to bring a bullmastiff in, is that all good? Have we fully drawn the line at farm animals? Ponies are fine, but the cow needs to remain outside?
So, two very important tips for those of you considering trips to Los Angeles that involve local movie theaters: 1) leave the weapons at home and 2) feel free to bring your pony.
Kate, just a tiny bit giddy after seeing the Indiana Jones trailer
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
First, what does it say about the state of our society when “no weapons allowed” is a sign on every door at the local AMC? Sure, during the great “bee” incident during the first X-Files film, I might have been inclined to start shooting, but I refrained. I had self-control. How often do people think to themselves “ooh, I’m going to see a romantic comedy, better bring the Glock”? Do the concession people routinely find people trying to stab them when they realize that a small popcorn and drink cost more than the movie? How did we get to a point where we need the “no weapons allowed” warning at the front of a theater? I know everyone’s a critic, but I think bringing ammunition is a little extreme.
The second thing I noticed today: a woman with a leashed dog. Did I mention that she was in the theater? Look, I love dogs. I’m even mildly entertained by people who bring their dogs shopping with them. Most of the malls here have outdoor elements to them, so it’s not wildly unusual. As long as they aren’t lifting their legs in Bloomingdales, I’m good. But I’ve honestly never considered bringing a pet to the movies with me. Obviously, I don’t know the dog, so perhaps he really did have a thing for historical fantasy, and 10,000 BC was a treat.
We’ve embraced small, adorable dogs. What about bigger, adorable dogs? If I want to bring a bullmastiff in, is that all good? Have we fully drawn the line at farm animals? Ponies are fine, but the cow needs to remain outside?
So, two very important tips for those of you considering trips to Los Angeles that involve local movie theaters: 1) leave the weapons at home and 2) feel free to bring your pony.
Kate, just a tiny bit giddy after seeing the Indiana Jones trailer
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Now What Does That Say?
I’m having lunch tomorrow with a man. Yeah, don’t get excited—he’s married, we’re buds, and it’s a college alumni thing. But I think I should still get points for being social with a guy, right? Fine.
I’ve mentioned before that with the exception of a radically uncharacteristic boot purchase in December, I’m not really a fashion girl...or a make-up girl…or a hair brush girl… or…. Actually, I’m the kind of girl who frequently forgets to look in the mirror. Sure, I glance in the mirror as an incidental thing, but I don’t really spend much time there. This could possibly explain why I’m periodically surprised to see random things growing out of my face. It can actually be quite scary because I will suddenly notice a random eyebrow hair that looks like it’s about to eat a major metropolitan area, and then I have to wonder how long it has been there.
What does this fascinating ride through my toilette have to do with lunch? I’ve now spent more time trying to figure out what to wear tomorrow than I have in the last 3 months combined. Since I shun all forms of actual self-analysis, I hesitate to really examine my motivations here (but since I’m temporarily out of new X-Files videos to download, I will).
What I can tell you is the state of my fashion distress probably has nothing to do with the fact that the guy I’m meeting is friends with The Ex and knows The Ex’s new wife. Yeah, that’s just silly. Why would I care? I so don’t care. That’s just… uh, crazy talk. Seriously, that hasn’t even crossed my mind more than once or twice or…. What are you people smoking? I can’t believe you even suggested it.
Ok, it might in a tiny, minute, absolutely infinitesimal way have something to do with it. It’s not like I’d come up in conversation. They probably haven’t even spoken all that often since the wedding. But there is a dark, unappealing part of me that wants to be even more fabulous than I already am. You know, in that special way that will result in him saying to The Ex (if they talk again at any point in the next 10 years), “How did you let that one go? Damn, she’s so spectacular—mysterious, chic with a dash of Laura Ingalls. I think even George Clooney has been calling. Plus, I’m absolutely buying my wife boots just like the ones she wore”.
How wrong is that? After all this time, why on earth would I care? And yet, those thoughts are swimming around in me as vicarious revenge fantasies. I can’t win the guy, so I want to “win” the post-break-up perception.
Brilliant.
Well, at least the Jimmy Choos will make it out of my closet.
Kate, standing in front of my closet singing along with Bree Sharp’s “David Duchovny, Why Won’t You Love Me” song
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
I’ve mentioned before that with the exception of a radically uncharacteristic boot purchase in December, I’m not really a fashion girl...or a make-up girl…or a hair brush girl… or…. Actually, I’m the kind of girl who frequently forgets to look in the mirror. Sure, I glance in the mirror as an incidental thing, but I don’t really spend much time there. This could possibly explain why I’m periodically surprised to see random things growing out of my face. It can actually be quite scary because I will suddenly notice a random eyebrow hair that looks like it’s about to eat a major metropolitan area, and then I have to wonder how long it has been there.
What does this fascinating ride through my toilette have to do with lunch? I’ve now spent more time trying to figure out what to wear tomorrow than I have in the last 3 months combined. Since I shun all forms of actual self-analysis, I hesitate to really examine my motivations here (but since I’m temporarily out of new X-Files videos to download, I will).
What I can tell you is the state of my fashion distress probably has nothing to do with the fact that the guy I’m meeting is friends with The Ex and knows The Ex’s new wife. Yeah, that’s just silly. Why would I care? I so don’t care. That’s just… uh, crazy talk. Seriously, that hasn’t even crossed my mind more than once or twice or…. What are you people smoking? I can’t believe you even suggested it.
Ok, it might in a tiny, minute, absolutely infinitesimal way have something to do with it. It’s not like I’d come up in conversation. They probably haven’t even spoken all that often since the wedding. But there is a dark, unappealing part of me that wants to be even more fabulous than I already am. You know, in that special way that will result in him saying to The Ex (if they talk again at any point in the next 10 years), “How did you let that one go? Damn, she’s so spectacular—mysterious, chic with a dash of Laura Ingalls. I think even George Clooney has been calling. Plus, I’m absolutely buying my wife boots just like the ones she wore”.
How wrong is that? After all this time, why on earth would I care? And yet, those thoughts are swimming around in me as vicarious revenge fantasies. I can’t win the guy, so I want to “win” the post-break-up perception.
Brilliant.
Well, at least the Jimmy Choos will make it out of my closet.
Kate, standing in front of my closet singing along with Bree Sharp’s “David Duchovny, Why Won’t You Love Me” song
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Friday, February 29, 2008
Maybe It's Me
http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/02/29/ricin.hotel/index.html
Like most 20 somethings I had a lot of hobbies, but only a few stuck with me into my 30s: dance, theater, The X-Files, my love of chick lit and all things Ben and/or Jerry – and my complete fascination with epidemiology and written accounts of biological and chemical warfare. You know, typical girlie stuff. Obviously, I’m not a scientist. I don’t work for the FBI and not a single living person can prove that I’ve ever been a spy. But the linked story seems awfully strange to me.
Sure, maybe Mulder and Scully would happen upon a tourist carrying some ricin with him, but ordinarily it’s not really on the list of Vegas activities. For instance, you rarely hear “oh, hey, honey, don’t forget to pack our bag-o-ricin for the trip”. I can personally guarantee you that my packing checklist never reads: Toothbrush? Check. Ipod? Check. Vial of Ricin? Got it!
I don’t mean to be a nudge, but can anyone explain to me why it isn’t illegal for random people to have ricin on them? I mean, I can’t buy more than 5 boxes of Sudafed at a time, but someone can carry a substance so lethal that even an amount the size of the head of a pin can kill an adult? Well, sure, I can see why that would be true. And by the way, the reports indicate that a random person happened upon a suspicious substance—which means there was far more than the size of the head of a pin in that room. How excited would you be to know that your room shared a ventilation duct with that one?
As for the terror angle, I’m sure I’m more paranoid than most (Plague Wars is bedstand reading for me), but unless one of the occupants of that room was a castor bean salesperson, or growing castor beans in his hotel room (for medicinal purposes like on the spot bone marrow transplants, or just for fun), I’m missing what the perfectly innocuous reason for having ricin would be. The reports say that it might have been left in the room by the previous occupants. Because if you are going to travel with your baggie of death, it’s perfectly plausible that you’d accidentally leave it behind along with that extra pair of socks.
I’m sure it’s fine. Nothing to worry about. But just in case, I think we should all hope that what happens in Vegas really does stay in Vegas.
Kate, who has an overwhelming urge to yell “Mulder!”
katedating@yahoo.com
cafepress.com/katedating
Like most 20 somethings I had a lot of hobbies, but only a few stuck with me into my 30s: dance, theater, The X-Files, my love of chick lit and all things Ben and/or Jerry – and my complete fascination with epidemiology and written accounts of biological and chemical warfare. You know, typical girlie stuff. Obviously, I’m not a scientist. I don’t work for the FBI and not a single living person can prove that I’ve ever been a spy. But the linked story seems awfully strange to me.
Sure, maybe Mulder and Scully would happen upon a tourist carrying some ricin with him, but ordinarily it’s not really on the list of Vegas activities. For instance, you rarely hear “oh, hey, honey, don’t forget to pack our bag-o-ricin for the trip”. I can personally guarantee you that my packing checklist never reads: Toothbrush? Check. Ipod? Check. Vial of Ricin? Got it!
I don’t mean to be a nudge, but can anyone explain to me why it isn’t illegal for random people to have ricin on them? I mean, I can’t buy more than 5 boxes of Sudafed at a time, but someone can carry a substance so lethal that even an amount the size of the head of a pin can kill an adult? Well, sure, I can see why that would be true. And by the way, the reports indicate that a random person happened upon a suspicious substance—which means there was far more than the size of the head of a pin in that room. How excited would you be to know that your room shared a ventilation duct with that one?
As for the terror angle, I’m sure I’m more paranoid than most (Plague Wars is bedstand reading for me), but unless one of the occupants of that room was a castor bean salesperson, or growing castor beans in his hotel room (for medicinal purposes like on the spot bone marrow transplants, or just for fun), I’m missing what the perfectly innocuous reason for having ricin would be. The reports say that it might have been left in the room by the previous occupants. Because if you are going to travel with your baggie of death, it’s perfectly plausible that you’d accidentally leave it behind along with that extra pair of socks.
I’m sure it’s fine. Nothing to worry about. But just in case, I think we should all hope that what happens in Vegas really does stay in Vegas.
Kate, who has an overwhelming urge to yell “Mulder!”
katedating@yahoo.com
cafepress.com/katedating
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Welcome, A Plug and Why
Welcome
First off, I have to give a big welcome to the more than 6,000 people who have stopped by the blogspot site since Saturday. Please picture me waving to you all. That’s about um… 5,980 more than normally visit. Ok, that’s a slight exaggeration, but still it was a quite a pleasant surprise. Generally, this blog is about starting over in Los Angeles—you know, the dating failures, the dating non-starters, the dating disasters… all the things that make finding a mate in Los Angeles about as likely as understanding The X-Files mytharc. It’s possible, but it is going to take a lot of work.
So, while you probably wont find this blog as exciting as Mulder and Scully—hell, I don’t find it more exciting than Mulder and Scully — I hope you check back from time to time.
Plug
Now for my plug: the book Stars in Their Eyes is a really fun read, particularly if you enjoy “Hollywood” stories. It’s funny; it’s poignant and really gives you an interesting look behind the curtain. I enjoyed the characters generally, but I must admit a certain extra special affinity for Leah (my sister in Jimmy Choo). That girl is determined! It’s written by Danielle Turchiano, and it’s available through Amazon.com. Definitely check it out if you are looking for a new read.
Why
Shortly before embarking on my flight of fancy to San Francisco, I finished reading another book called “Insider Dating” by Jennifer O’Connell. It covers quite a bit of ground, but essentially it focuses on a now single woman (post-divorce) who sets up a confidential database of men in the Boston area. The database isn’t just name, address, etc. This database logs the good, the bad and the ugly. Would you like to know if your blind date has a mommy complex, or is a habitual cheater? Save yourself some time and log into her database.
Clearly, there are huge pitfalls in this idea if it were applied to real life. For instance, any bitter person could set up an account and make all sorts of unfounded accusations about why their relationship ended. But in her universe, the information is generally sound and based on referrals, etc. I know there is a part of me that should be appalled by this, and yet a much bigger part of me thinks: “I wonder if this really exists, and if so, how do I get a password?”
You see, the main character is just slightly obsessed with “why”. Why did her marriage end? If she had known x, y, z before getting involved, would it have made a difference?
In most of my earlier relationships I know why the end came. When a guy you are dating sleeps with three women—none of whom are you—it’s not that hard to figure out that the relationship is not destined for the long haul. Also, I find a guy not showing up for a date ever again to be a clear indication that he might be slightly ambivalent and lacking in the true devotion department. When you float down the steps in your gown (looking every bit the princess) to meet your prom date, his "how are you going to dance in that" does give you pause.
But what about a relationship that just ends? You both still love each other. Neither one of you did anything egregiously wrong. There is no other party involved. It’s just over.
Why?
Maybe relationships tend to have shelf lives, but “why” is starting to become important to me. When you start dating, people seem to exchange a degree of information (at least these are the rumors I’m hearing). “Have you been married?” Yep, that seems to be a standard, although it immediately leads to consternation for me. If I say “no” and move on, am I lying? Obviously, in the literal sense, I’ve never been married. But skipping over a relationship that has informed the better part of my life over the last 15 years (if you count the dating and the aftermath) seems like a fairly big omission. But admitting it, will lead to “what happened”. Admitting it leads to “why”.
I have no idea why. It seemed like the relationship timeline went something like this us: first date-together forever-lifetime-lifetime-lifetime-lifetime-over. It was a million little things that probably wouldn’t ever create red flags in the lead character’s database. It was a million little things and in retrospect, nothing important. Nothing.
Why?
And if I can’t figure out what happened, how do I keep it from happening again?
Kate
katedating@yahoo.com
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
First off, I have to give a big welcome to the more than 6,000 people who have stopped by the blogspot site since Saturday. Please picture me waving to you all. That’s about um… 5,980 more than normally visit. Ok, that’s a slight exaggeration, but still it was a quite a pleasant surprise. Generally, this blog is about starting over in Los Angeles—you know, the dating failures, the dating non-starters, the dating disasters… all the things that make finding a mate in Los Angeles about as likely as understanding The X-Files mytharc. It’s possible, but it is going to take a lot of work.
So, while you probably wont find this blog as exciting as Mulder and Scully—hell, I don’t find it more exciting than Mulder and Scully — I hope you check back from time to time.
Plug
Now for my plug: the book Stars in Their Eyes is a really fun read, particularly if you enjoy “Hollywood” stories. It’s funny; it’s poignant and really gives you an interesting look behind the curtain. I enjoyed the characters generally, but I must admit a certain extra special affinity for Leah (my sister in Jimmy Choo). That girl is determined! It’s written by Danielle Turchiano, and it’s available through Amazon.com. Definitely check it out if you are looking for a new read.
Why
Shortly before embarking on my flight of fancy to San Francisco, I finished reading another book called “Insider Dating” by Jennifer O’Connell. It covers quite a bit of ground, but essentially it focuses on a now single woman (post-divorce) who sets up a confidential database of men in the Boston area. The database isn’t just name, address, etc. This database logs the good, the bad and the ugly. Would you like to know if your blind date has a mommy complex, or is a habitual cheater? Save yourself some time and log into her database.
Clearly, there are huge pitfalls in this idea if it were applied to real life. For instance, any bitter person could set up an account and make all sorts of unfounded accusations about why their relationship ended. But in her universe, the information is generally sound and based on referrals, etc. I know there is a part of me that should be appalled by this, and yet a much bigger part of me thinks: “I wonder if this really exists, and if so, how do I get a password?”
You see, the main character is just slightly obsessed with “why”. Why did her marriage end? If she had known x, y, z before getting involved, would it have made a difference?
In most of my earlier relationships I know why the end came. When a guy you are dating sleeps with three women—none of whom are you—it’s not that hard to figure out that the relationship is not destined for the long haul. Also, I find a guy not showing up for a date ever again to be a clear indication that he might be slightly ambivalent and lacking in the true devotion department. When you float down the steps in your gown (looking every bit the princess) to meet your prom date, his "how are you going to dance in that" does give you pause.
But what about a relationship that just ends? You both still love each other. Neither one of you did anything egregiously wrong. There is no other party involved. It’s just over.
Why?
Maybe relationships tend to have shelf lives, but “why” is starting to become important to me. When you start dating, people seem to exchange a degree of information (at least these are the rumors I’m hearing). “Have you been married?” Yep, that seems to be a standard, although it immediately leads to consternation for me. If I say “no” and move on, am I lying? Obviously, in the literal sense, I’ve never been married. But skipping over a relationship that has informed the better part of my life over the last 15 years (if you count the dating and the aftermath) seems like a fairly big omission. But admitting it, will lead to “what happened”. Admitting it leads to “why”.
I have no idea why. It seemed like the relationship timeline went something like this us: first date-together forever-lifetime-lifetime-lifetime-lifetime-over. It was a million little things that probably wouldn’t ever create red flags in the lead character’s database. It was a million little things and in retrospect, nothing important. Nothing.
Why?
And if I can’t figure out what happened, how do I keep it from happening again?
Kate
katedating@yahoo.com
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Kate's Moment of X-Files Zen
I know I said I was done posting shaky video of the X-Files panel, but this one made me laugh. Turn down the volume. Frank Spotnitz is answering a question very seriously, and David and Gillian were talking amongst themselves. It's just a cute moment. Since they had been up shooting all night long, I'm guessing a certain amount of punchiness had made its appearance. So, turn the sound down and enjoy my version of a moment of Zen.
Kate
katedating@yahoo.com
Kate
katedating@yahoo.com
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