I, like most of the female population of Los Angeles, went to see the Sex and The City movie Saturday morning. I went with a female friend (who was wearing great shoes) and her boyfriend (yep, you know that’s love) to a 10:10am showing, and it was packed. I mean, packed. It was probably 95% women, but there were some men there with dates. I can safely say there were no single, straight dudes out with other single, straight dudes who decided that the movie sounded like fun, but an amazing crowd nonetheless. And, as Kevin and Bean (and Ralph) pointed out on KROQ, it was probably a banner weekend for cat sitters everywhere.
I enjoyed the series. I thought it was an interesting take on the dating scene, and it showed that no matter how successful you were in your career, no matter how smart, no matter how motivated—love was always going to leave you befuddled and confused, at least temporarily. Plus, the shout-out to urban families in the form of close friends was always something with which I could identify.
Despite that fact that I liked the show, I was not actually looking forward to this movie. First, I was sick to death of the promotion. It seems like it has been everywhere for months. I’m so grateful that the movie is out now because maybe that means we can stop hearing about it on TV—and start hearing about The X-Files (mwwwhaaaaa haaaa haaa).
Plus, I thought the series ended well, and that the movie wasn’t necessary. After seeing it… well, it still wasn’t necessary, but it was fun. I don’t know that it broke new ground, in fact, we covered some of the same ground again, but there were many moments throughout the movie that were genuinely emotion provoking. And no, it wasn’t only when they showed all those amazing shoes. There were, alas, also moments where you felt like you were reading a fashion magazine—all ads, no articles (how many clothing montages did we have?). Thankfully, if you were a fan of the show, there was enough of a story for you to stay invested in the 2 ½ hour running time (which didn’t feel nearly as long as it sounded when I went in there).
There is another plus to the movie, ladies. I won’t give away the plot. I’ll only say two words: Dante, Shower. Enough said. You’ll understand when you see the movie.
What’s really interesting to me is that the pundits seem to be stunned that this movie did well (the movie is already the most successful romantic comedy debut of all time). All the articles are pointing to the power of the “older woman viewer with a disposable income” and the fact that the summer is rarely a place to find films that target adult, female audiences. Shocking! Shocking! Who knew adult women wanted entertainment? Oh, wait. I did – and anyone who reads this blog and the thousands of others floating through cyberspace like it. And those Moonlight fans. And all those women who keep the chick lit genre going. And all those women who are over 25 and live anywhere in this country. But other than for those people, it is quite shocking, I’m sure.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Saturday, May 31, 2008
New Love
You saw that title and got excited, didn’t you? You were about to accuse me of holding out on you, weren’t you? Never fear, once again, I’m not talking about a man. Only this time, I’m also not talking about ice cream or an actor. No, this time, I’m talking about Netflix, and I think this could be “the one”.
Unlike the rest of the country, I had never used Netflix before last month. I’m an instant gratification kind of girl, and waiting a day or two to see a movie sounded like a bad plan. I know you can download from Netflix now, but I don’t love watching movies on my computer, and I don’t yet have the hook-up to transfer it to a TV. So, I had set my mind against Netflix. Picture me as Veruca Salt singing “I Want It Now” from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (by the way, you can get that song as a ringtone, which cracks me up).
But after I offered to sign up for my free two week trial to help my friends get “Pool Party” orders (order now, order often), I have fallen in love. Right now it is the perfect relationship. It doesn’t bug me when I’ve got more important things to do (ie television, movies, sleeping and the aforementioned ice cream eating). It’s always a little bit of a surprise when it shows up in my mailbox. Its sole purpose in life is to satisfy my wish list. Seriously, I give it a list, and click a button to make it so. And really, don’t more things in life need a make-it-so button?
I haven’t been this excited since Brad brought my groceries to my door after I ordered through webvan.com.
What’s next on my queue? The entire Square Pegs series on DVD! That’s right, possibly one of the most awesome and inspiring television shows of the early 1980s is now available on DVD. Let’s just say I identified with the feeling of not quite fitting in with the crowd as a youngster. Oh, hell, I still feel that way as an oldster. Plus, I’m pretty sure I still have a pair of jean overalls somewhere in my closet (hey, don’t judge, I didn’t say they were next to my Jimmy Choo boots….oooh wait, I could so rock that outfit, right? Right? Hello?)
It’s not that this new relationship isn’t fraught with pitfalls. It could stand me up, and you could find me forlornly staring into the great abyss of mailbox, alone and misty. I could be anticipating “P.S. I Love You”, and end up with “Final Siege 42”. It could become more expensive—but really what relationships don’t have their price?
Kate
Unlike the rest of the country, I had never used Netflix before last month. I’m an instant gratification kind of girl, and waiting a day or two to see a movie sounded like a bad plan. I know you can download from Netflix now, but I don’t love watching movies on my computer, and I don’t yet have the hook-up to transfer it to a TV. So, I had set my mind against Netflix. Picture me as Veruca Salt singing “I Want It Now” from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (by the way, you can get that song as a ringtone, which cracks me up).
But after I offered to sign up for my free two week trial to help my friends get “Pool Party” orders (order now, order often), I have fallen in love. Right now it is the perfect relationship. It doesn’t bug me when I’ve got more important things to do (ie television, movies, sleeping and the aforementioned ice cream eating). It’s always a little bit of a surprise when it shows up in my mailbox. Its sole purpose in life is to satisfy my wish list. Seriously, I give it a list, and click a button to make it so. And really, don’t more things in life need a make-it-so button?
I haven’t been this excited since Brad brought my groceries to my door after I ordered through webvan.com.
What’s next on my queue? The entire Square Pegs series on DVD! That’s right, possibly one of the most awesome and inspiring television shows of the early 1980s is now available on DVD. Let’s just say I identified with the feeling of not quite fitting in with the crowd as a youngster. Oh, hell, I still feel that way as an oldster. Plus, I’m pretty sure I still have a pair of jean overalls somewhere in my closet (hey, don’t judge, I didn’t say they were next to my Jimmy Choo boots….oooh wait, I could so rock that outfit, right? Right? Hello?)
It’s not that this new relationship isn’t fraught with pitfalls. It could stand me up, and you could find me forlornly staring into the great abyss of mailbox, alone and misty. I could be anticipating “P.S. I Love You”, and end up with “Final Siege 42”. It could become more expensive—but really what relationships don’t have their price?
Kate
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Two More Things
On this journey of self-discovery (sounds better than a mid-life crisis), I’ve discovered that there are two more things that I don’t understand about my life. And because I’ve dragged you kicking and screaming through this wonderland called my life, I felt like I needed to share. Fear not—nothing has been bleached.
Dry Cleaning
I appear to be allergic to my dry cleaning. I don’t mean that I’m allergic to the chemicals. I don’t mean that I’m allergic to a scent that might adhere to the clothing after they have been cleaned. I don’t mean that the facility itself gives me hives, or that I have a phobia of the plastic garment covers. No, I mean I seem to have a complete and absolute mental block when it comes to picking up my dry cleaning.
“Well, it’s probably far away from you”, you say.
Generous of you, but wrong. I work in the same building as my dry cleaner. I pass it twice a day. I walk right by it on my way to my car every day.
“Well, it isn’t open during the times you pass it”, you say.
Yes, it is. When I leave my job and head to my car to begin my arduous 15 minute drive home (as compared to my 2 hour each way commute in New York), it is open. The cheery man who runs it is ready to do my bidding with a smile. But no, I just keep going.
“Well, you probably just forget that it’s there because you are so distracted”, you say.
Oh, no. I know it’s there. I can feel it calling to me. And I keep walking. I don’t understand. It’s as though the hassles of the day have been too much for me. I can’t take 3 minutes to deviate from my straight-to-home trajectory, even if that deviation is just a slight turn to the left. How does this happen? How did I get to the point where even small inconveniences are too much for my brain to process?
So, I’m setting a new goal: from now on, I’ll pick up my dry cleaning within the same month that I drop it off. Probably. You know, usually. Unless I’m busy, or something good might be on TV.
Communications
I was going over my monthly bills last night, and I came to a stunning revelation. I pay nearly $300 a month on communications devices. Between my cell phone and cell internet access, my two phones lines, my DSL and my wireless laptop card, I pay nearly $300 a month to communicate with the world.
Huh. You’d never know that I hate people.
Of course, I’m kidding. Largely. Mostly. Some days. Ok, I don’t hate everyone, but I’m not exactly the most loquacious person in the world. I essentially have three phones, but when a phone rings, I don’t answer it (because honestly, it’s usually telemarketers, and my cell phone is always turned to quiet). I rarely make phone calls. I call my family, but otherwise I’m not really chatty person. I can go for weeks without actually having a non-familial personal call.
This is insane. Most of the time I want the world to leave me alone—why am I spending a fortune to let it in? Email and internet are obviously essentials because they represent communication on my terms. But this phone thing? Yeah, that’s got to go.
$300--that’s a whole lot of missed shoe buying opportunities.
Kate
Dry Cleaning
I appear to be allergic to my dry cleaning. I don’t mean that I’m allergic to the chemicals. I don’t mean that I’m allergic to a scent that might adhere to the clothing after they have been cleaned. I don’t mean that the facility itself gives me hives, or that I have a phobia of the plastic garment covers. No, I mean I seem to have a complete and absolute mental block when it comes to picking up my dry cleaning.
“Well, it’s probably far away from you”, you say.
Generous of you, but wrong. I work in the same building as my dry cleaner. I pass it twice a day. I walk right by it on my way to my car every day.
“Well, it isn’t open during the times you pass it”, you say.
Yes, it is. When I leave my job and head to my car to begin my arduous 15 minute drive home (as compared to my 2 hour each way commute in New York), it is open. The cheery man who runs it is ready to do my bidding with a smile. But no, I just keep going.
“Well, you probably just forget that it’s there because you are so distracted”, you say.
Oh, no. I know it’s there. I can feel it calling to me. And I keep walking. I don’t understand. It’s as though the hassles of the day have been too much for me. I can’t take 3 minutes to deviate from my straight-to-home trajectory, even if that deviation is just a slight turn to the left. How does this happen? How did I get to the point where even small inconveniences are too much for my brain to process?
So, I’m setting a new goal: from now on, I’ll pick up my dry cleaning within the same month that I drop it off. Probably. You know, usually. Unless I’m busy, or something good might be on TV.
Communications
I was going over my monthly bills last night, and I came to a stunning revelation. I pay nearly $300 a month on communications devices. Between my cell phone and cell internet access, my two phones lines, my DSL and my wireless laptop card, I pay nearly $300 a month to communicate with the world.
Huh. You’d never know that I hate people.
Of course, I’m kidding. Largely. Mostly. Some days. Ok, I don’t hate everyone, but I’m not exactly the most loquacious person in the world. I essentially have three phones, but when a phone rings, I don’t answer it (because honestly, it’s usually telemarketers, and my cell phone is always turned to quiet). I rarely make phone calls. I call my family, but otherwise I’m not really chatty person. I can go for weeks without actually having a non-familial personal call.
This is insane. Most of the time I want the world to leave me alone—why am I spending a fortune to let it in? Email and internet are obviously essentials because they represent communication on my terms. But this phone thing? Yeah, that’s got to go.
$300--that’s a whole lot of missed shoe buying opportunities.
Kate
Monday, May 26, 2008
Remember When?
Remember when you just watched television and movies? Maybe this is just an LA thing that happens, but at some point, I stopped being just a viewer and became an analyst (hazards of my day job, maybe?). Now I know the ratings. I know the demographics. I know if a TV show has won its time slot. I know the box office for movies. I know what a movie needs to make in order to be considered a success, and I know what their advertising budget is going to be based on their production budget—which somehow I also know.
Is that just living here? Is that an example of LA industry-based osmosis? Do you guys do this, too?
Unfortunately, it doesn’t make me any better at guessing what networks are going to do, or what movie ideas will sell (and conversely, which ones won’t). For instance, I don’t really understand CW’s seeming disinterest in picking up Moonlight. Obviously, I’m a recent fan of the show, so there is a bias there, but I don’t get how CW doesn’t benefit. Even if only half of Moonlight’s CBS fanbase migrates to the CW, they’ll outscore all of the CW’s current shows. It’s not like they don’t do genre programming.
What really worries me is the persistent rumor that the reason CW doesn’t want any portion of the 7.5/8 million Moonlight viewers is that the fanbase is too old—that the lead (at 31 years of age) is too old. It’s not that I don’t comprehend wanting to build a tween/teen network—Nickelodeon has done the even younger demographics for years. But I don’t understand not wanting to grow your network beyond a certain age range. If you only market to 12-22 year olds, then what happens when your current viewers age? I guess they don’t care about holding on to them, and assume they’ll pick up the kids entering their age range.
So, they are targeting tween/teens, and a 31 year old male isn’t appealing? Let’s forget for a second that when I was in my mid-teens I was absolutely head over heels in school girl infatuation for Pierce Brosnan’s Remington Steele and Richard Chamberlain’s Father Ralph. What about Alex’s primary co-stars who are all under the age of 30?
As you know, I love Gossip Girl. It is just a little horrifying to realize that they aren’t in their mid-30’s, but actually portraying school age kids. And now the new 90210 2.0 is coming out, and from the early photos/info it is going to be every bit as sexualized. As much as I want to once again yell out “Donna Martin Graduates,” the whole movement is starting to make me cringe. Perhaps the reason that they haven’t picked up Moonlight isn’t because the lead and the fanbase are too old, but rather the series itself is too chaste: not a lot of drug use, very little naked-time, and no random let’s-try-being-a-lesbian-for-a-week scenes. If it helps at all, I’m perfectly willing to sit through a few nearly naked Mick and Beth sex scenes. No really… I’m a giver that way.
At any rate, let’s hope the Sci-Fi Channel decides that they would like a several million more people watching their programming and that the licensing fees aren’t too high for the show. And if you are a spirited fan who wants to get involved in the Moonlight campaign, head over to http://moonlight-united.com/ for information on how you can help keep the “old folks” employed.
Oy.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Is that just living here? Is that an example of LA industry-based osmosis? Do you guys do this, too?
Unfortunately, it doesn’t make me any better at guessing what networks are going to do, or what movie ideas will sell (and conversely, which ones won’t). For instance, I don’t really understand CW’s seeming disinterest in picking up Moonlight. Obviously, I’m a recent fan of the show, so there is a bias there, but I don’t get how CW doesn’t benefit. Even if only half of Moonlight’s CBS fanbase migrates to the CW, they’ll outscore all of the CW’s current shows. It’s not like they don’t do genre programming.
What really worries me is the persistent rumor that the reason CW doesn’t want any portion of the 7.5/8 million Moonlight viewers is that the fanbase is too old—that the lead (at 31 years of age) is too old. It’s not that I don’t comprehend wanting to build a tween/teen network—Nickelodeon has done the even younger demographics for years. But I don’t understand not wanting to grow your network beyond a certain age range. If you only market to 12-22 year olds, then what happens when your current viewers age? I guess they don’t care about holding on to them, and assume they’ll pick up the kids entering their age range.
So, they are targeting tween/teens, and a 31 year old male isn’t appealing? Let’s forget for a second that when I was in my mid-teens I was absolutely head over heels in school girl infatuation for Pierce Brosnan’s Remington Steele and Richard Chamberlain’s Father Ralph. What about Alex’s primary co-stars who are all under the age of 30?
As you know, I love Gossip Girl. It is just a little horrifying to realize that they aren’t in their mid-30’s, but actually portraying school age kids. And now the new 90210 2.0 is coming out, and from the early photos/info it is going to be every bit as sexualized. As much as I want to once again yell out “Donna Martin Graduates,” the whole movement is starting to make me cringe. Perhaps the reason that they haven’t picked up Moonlight isn’t because the lead and the fanbase are too old, but rather the series itself is too chaste: not a lot of drug use, very little naked-time, and no random let’s-try-being-a-lesbian-for-a-week scenes. If it helps at all, I’m perfectly willing to sit through a few nearly naked Mick and Beth sex scenes. No really… I’m a giver that way.
At any rate, let’s hope the Sci-Fi Channel decides that they would like a several million more people watching their programming and that the licensing fees aren’t too high for the show. And if you are a spirited fan who wants to get involved in the Moonlight campaign, head over to http://moonlight-united.com/ for information on how you can help keep the “old folks” employed.
Oy.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Saturday, May 24, 2008
The Bed
My bed and I aren’t speaking, and it is Feng Shui’s fault.
Let me start by saying that I’m not a big believer in the practice of Feng Shui. I read a story about a guy who lost his job because of his strict adherence to the principles. It took him two hours to get to work every day because he refused to make turns in a particular direction. Seems to me the direction he was headed in wasn’t all that great either.
I know a girl who wholeheartedly believes in Feng Shui—she has many books on the subject to prove it. You would see them if you visited her because she’s a hoarder, and they are probably stacked and blocking the entryway as I type.
Despite this, I’m starting to think that I need to review the rules again because if anyone has a wastebasket in their love/marriage/relationship corner, it has got to be me. In fact, it feels like my apartment building’s dumpsters are in my relationship corner. Seriously, I’m betting that the random garbage belonging to 300 people is choking the life out of my relationship corner. I wonder if I can get the city to move the dumpsters. It’s probably not the strangest request they’ve ever gotten. In all likelihood, it’s not even the strangest request they have gotten this week.
But even though I’ve now decided to banish all the waste bins from all the corners of my world (because, really, I don’t want my prosperity corner to take a hit either), I’m still left with the bed conundrum. And it’s not the standard question that everyone asks every day: are my feet pointing in the right direction to bring harmony to the world? I mean, that’s obvious. The pioneers even asked that one.
Apparently, you aren’t supposed to have anything under your bed. If you have stuff under your bed, it blocks the flow of energy. If the love energy isn’t flowing in tornadic fashion, you’re screwed (or, evidently, not). It’s obvious that the person who came up with these love energy rules was not a single woman living in a tiny apartment with an entire lifetime of “woulda”, “coulda” and “shoulda”, not to mention “will-look-great-once-I-own-a-home-a” stored there. But if I pull the stuff out from under my bed, then I’m blocking some other energy passageway in my “earth” space.
And there is one more problem: if stuff under a bed creates a problem, what kind of energy blocking occurs when you bought the bed with The Ex in the first place? That can’t be good, right? Do I need to perform some sort of bed exorcism? Get a medicine man in here to cleanse the bed? This is Los Angeles, that service is probably listed in the yellow pages (do you think it’s under household items or spiritual growth?).
So, it’s obvious, my lack of love life is actually not my fault at all. It’s the bed’s fault. And it’s Feng Shui’s fault. Clearly. It’s the possessed bed of love life past that probably even has a wastebasket under it, and is obviously in the wrong corner thus point my feet into a deranged, solitary future, and it’s cursing all my current prospects. There are probably tens of … uh.. well, ten men… or one man that has woken up and thought “today is the day that I will finally meet the Kate of my dreams”, but instead, I wake up in the cursed bed and ruin it all.
Exorcism it is.
What do you mean buy a new bed? That would just be weird.
Kate, who is currently blaming her bruised tailbone on the possessed, bad feng shui bed
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Let me start by saying that I’m not a big believer in the practice of Feng Shui. I read a story about a guy who lost his job because of his strict adherence to the principles. It took him two hours to get to work every day because he refused to make turns in a particular direction. Seems to me the direction he was headed in wasn’t all that great either.
I know a girl who wholeheartedly believes in Feng Shui—she has many books on the subject to prove it. You would see them if you visited her because she’s a hoarder, and they are probably stacked and blocking the entryway as I type.
Despite this, I’m starting to think that I need to review the rules again because if anyone has a wastebasket in their love/marriage/relationship corner, it has got to be me. In fact, it feels like my apartment building’s dumpsters are in my relationship corner. Seriously, I’m betting that the random garbage belonging to 300 people is choking the life out of my relationship corner. I wonder if I can get the city to move the dumpsters. It’s probably not the strangest request they’ve ever gotten. In all likelihood, it’s not even the strangest request they have gotten this week.
But even though I’ve now decided to banish all the waste bins from all the corners of my world (because, really, I don’t want my prosperity corner to take a hit either), I’m still left with the bed conundrum. And it’s not the standard question that everyone asks every day: are my feet pointing in the right direction to bring harmony to the world? I mean, that’s obvious. The pioneers even asked that one.
Apparently, you aren’t supposed to have anything under your bed. If you have stuff under your bed, it blocks the flow of energy. If the love energy isn’t flowing in tornadic fashion, you’re screwed (or, evidently, not). It’s obvious that the person who came up with these love energy rules was not a single woman living in a tiny apartment with an entire lifetime of “woulda”, “coulda” and “shoulda”, not to mention “will-look-great-once-I-own-a-home-a” stored there. But if I pull the stuff out from under my bed, then I’m blocking some other energy passageway in my “earth” space.
And there is one more problem: if stuff under a bed creates a problem, what kind of energy blocking occurs when you bought the bed with The Ex in the first place? That can’t be good, right? Do I need to perform some sort of bed exorcism? Get a medicine man in here to cleanse the bed? This is Los Angeles, that service is probably listed in the yellow pages (do you think it’s under household items or spiritual growth?).
So, it’s obvious, my lack of love life is actually not my fault at all. It’s the bed’s fault. And it’s Feng Shui’s fault. Clearly. It’s the possessed bed of love life past that probably even has a wastebasket under it, and is obviously in the wrong corner thus point my feet into a deranged, solitary future, and it’s cursing all my current prospects. There are probably tens of … uh.. well, ten men… or one man that has woken up and thought “today is the day that I will finally meet the Kate of my dreams”, but instead, I wake up in the cursed bed and ruin it all.
Exorcism it is.
What do you mean buy a new bed? That would just be weird.
Kate, who is currently blaming her bruised tailbone on the possessed, bad feng shui bed
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Sunday, May 18, 2008
The Grocery Store
If you asked people to describe the real life me, they are likely to come up with many different characterizations: uptight, strange, hermit, furtive, midget-like, etc. And if they were forced to try to figure out what I do with my time, they would hasten to point out that grocery shopping is unlikely to be on the list.
Food and I have a love hate relationship (unless it involves ice cream or chocolate or really anything that can make my ass expand), so it’s not really a surprise that I have only a passing regard for the place that food calls home. Needless to say, when people advise me that the grocery store is a great place to meet men, I cringe. Spending more time there is not a goal.
Well, I have to say, the people on “Team Kate” may have been correct. I did meet a boy at the grocery store today. He even made the first move. I was staring at the meat section (always a turn on for men), and I believe I was looking quite fetching. Perhaps it’s the way my t-shirt was wrinkled just so. Perhaps it was the way the alluring shade of gray of my sweatpants set off my ankles. One can never really know what sparks attraction. Whatever it was, he decided to stop and chat.
Yeah. The damaged ones find me.
I couldn’t swear to him being inebriated—it’s entirely possible that the alcohol was simply seeping from his pores from the prior evening’s activities. It was only 8:30am. I’m not entirely sure that I believe that he was the one who told a certain rehabbed actor where to get the crack that sent him to prison, but it was an interesting and well-told story. I’m also not sure how I was supposed to react to him telling me that he met said actor in prison. Because I’m guessing prison doesn’t give a lot of tours for fun, so that would mean… Boys, just a tip, “yeah, I was in prison with him” is not the celebrity pick-up line you want to use in all situations. Or maybe it’s just me.
Honestly, I kid about this, but this man was in a lot of pain. He’d been in an accident, and was still recovering. I’m not sure how the alcohol or the prison fit into the situation, but I’m pretty certain telling me that he had to leave the movie he’d just seen for a bit to grab a beer may have been a sign that all is not well.
Meanwhile, the security guard is trying to figure out if I’m ok because this conversation had gone on for quite a while, and wasn’t really quiet—but I couldn’t figure out if I was ok, either. Part of me was thinking, “all I’m trying to do is pick up some chicken and get the hell out of here—why does this always happen to me?” While the other part of me felt terrible for this person who clearly needed help and was thinking “this poor man, I hope he—hang on, is he staring at my breasts? He is! He’s staring at my breasts.”
The entire thing left me feeling sad. I hope he gets things worked out and that he recovers well from his injuries. Oh, and I also hope that I have my lethal spork in hand should be meet again, just in case.
“Team Kate” is so fired.
Kate, confused with these alien feelings of sympathy mixing with my comfortable feelings of annoyance
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Food and I have a love hate relationship (unless it involves ice cream or chocolate or really anything that can make my ass expand), so it’s not really a surprise that I have only a passing regard for the place that food calls home. Needless to say, when people advise me that the grocery store is a great place to meet men, I cringe. Spending more time there is not a goal.
Well, I have to say, the people on “Team Kate” may have been correct. I did meet a boy at the grocery store today. He even made the first move. I was staring at the meat section (always a turn on for men), and I believe I was looking quite fetching. Perhaps it’s the way my t-shirt was wrinkled just so. Perhaps it was the way the alluring shade of gray of my sweatpants set off my ankles. One can never really know what sparks attraction. Whatever it was, he decided to stop and chat.
Yeah. The damaged ones find me.
I couldn’t swear to him being inebriated—it’s entirely possible that the alcohol was simply seeping from his pores from the prior evening’s activities. It was only 8:30am. I’m not entirely sure that I believe that he was the one who told a certain rehabbed actor where to get the crack that sent him to prison, but it was an interesting and well-told story. I’m also not sure how I was supposed to react to him telling me that he met said actor in prison. Because I’m guessing prison doesn’t give a lot of tours for fun, so that would mean… Boys, just a tip, “yeah, I was in prison with him” is not the celebrity pick-up line you want to use in all situations. Or maybe it’s just me.
Honestly, I kid about this, but this man was in a lot of pain. He’d been in an accident, and was still recovering. I’m not sure how the alcohol or the prison fit into the situation, but I’m pretty certain telling me that he had to leave the movie he’d just seen for a bit to grab a beer may have been a sign that all is not well.
Meanwhile, the security guard is trying to figure out if I’m ok because this conversation had gone on for quite a while, and wasn’t really quiet—but I couldn’t figure out if I was ok, either. Part of me was thinking, “all I’m trying to do is pick up some chicken and get the hell out of here—why does this always happen to me?” While the other part of me felt terrible for this person who clearly needed help and was thinking “this poor man, I hope he—hang on, is he staring at my breasts? He is! He’s staring at my breasts.”
The entire thing left me feeling sad. I hope he gets things worked out and that he recovers well from his injuries. Oh, and I also hope that I have my lethal spork in hand should be meet again, just in case.
“Team Kate” is so fired.
Kate, confused with these alien feelings of sympathy mixing with my comfortable feelings of annoyance
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
OMG!
I have a guilty pleasure that I must confess: I love Gossip Girl. I love the clothes. I love much of the music. I love the intrigue and machinations. And much like after the first year of “The Facts of Life”, I wish I looked like a character named Blair.
I don’t love that they are supposed to be playing teenagers. In fact, it bothers me quite a bit. So, in order to watch my guilty pleasure, I merely think of them as manipulative 35-year olds who are amazingly well preserved. That way the show is more like Dallas (but without the shoulder pads). It’s like Dynasty (without the shoulder pads). It’s like Falcon Crest (without the… yeah, you get the idea).
(In the spirit of true confessions, I’m actually a bit more interested in Rufus and Lily (the parents) than any of the kids, most of the time. Plus, Rufus is ridiculously thoughtful and adorable.)
But all I really want to know is are we going to spend season two trying to figure out who shot Georgina? Because you know that girl is working her inner J.R., and it’s only a matter of time.
Think anyone at work would notice if I started signing internal memos with XOXO?
Kate, who thinks it is remotely possible that I’m experiencing a true phase of arrested maturity
I don’t love that they are supposed to be playing teenagers. In fact, it bothers me quite a bit. So, in order to watch my guilty pleasure, I merely think of them as manipulative 35-year olds who are amazingly well preserved. That way the show is more like Dallas (but without the shoulder pads). It’s like Dynasty (without the shoulder pads). It’s like Falcon Crest (without the… yeah, you get the idea).
(In the spirit of true confessions, I’m actually a bit more interested in Rufus and Lily (the parents) than any of the kids, most of the time. Plus, Rufus is ridiculously thoughtful and adorable.)
But all I really want to know is are we going to spend season two trying to figure out who shot Georgina? Because you know that girl is working her inner J.R., and it’s only a matter of time.
Think anyone at work would notice if I started signing internal memos with XOXO?
Kate, who thinks it is remotely possible that I’m experiencing a true phase of arrested maturity
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Cute
You know what’s cute – a little boy singing all the words to “It’s a Small World”. Totally adorable. It’s the kind of free-wheeling joy in life that people don’t exhibit after a certain age. We hide. We run away from open expression in Starbucks. Unless someone has dropped hot coffee on us, of course, and then we actually do freely express many, many things. But this young man is just having a good time.
Still. He’s still having a very good time. Still singing the words to that song. Still.
Um…yeah.
Still. He’s still singing. What a blessing…in disguise…a very hidden blessing.
Kate, trying to write a press release, but focusing on trying to find something that rhymes with vexing instead
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
Friday, May 16, 2008
Moonlight Call Now!
Sorry for the short notice. I just received this from a friend. If you watched Moonlight, go ahead and give them a call. They are actually soliciting this information, but I have no idea why, or if it relates to the show being picked up elsewhere.
http://moonlight-united.com
URGENT: Call CBS Before 6PM Friday
CBS is polling Moonlight fans for demographic information. We don’t know their ultimate goal here, but we are cautiously optimistic. All you need to do is call 818-655-1779 and leave your age, city & state on voice mail. They will stop taking calls at 6PM Pacific EASTERN today (Friday, May 16), so make sure you call in ASAP!
http://moonlight-united.com
URGENT: Call CBS Before 6PM Friday
CBS is polling Moonlight fans for demographic information. We don’t know their ultimate goal here, but we are cautiously optimistic. All you need to do is call 818-655-1779 and leave your age, city & state on voice mail. They will stop taking calls at 6PM Pacific EASTERN today (Friday, May 16), so make sure you call in ASAP!
Monday, May 12, 2008
That Aging Thing
I’ve always thought of aging as a linear thing. I’d grow older and the body/mind/spirit would grow older as well. The body would grow out, and the emotions would grow up. Well, I think we can definitely rule out that last one. The body is definitely growing out, but mentally and emotionally, I think I’m trapped where I was at 25—only minus the whole hopeful, happy outlook with the kicky, cynical edge for flavor. Now it’s just the kicky, cynical edge.
My brain is having a hard time accepting my age. At this stage of the game, no one is ever going to refer to me as precocious again. The “firsts” seem few and far between for me. Well, I suppose I could be among the first of my friends to go through menopause, but I’m not sure I really want to win that race.
I’m still contemplating what I want to be when I grow up. And then it strikes me that I am a “grown up” and that ship is sailing. I have a job. I have a good job. I have a job I’ve been doing for years despite the fact that it was just supposed to be something to tide me over until my graduate school loans were paid off. It was a transitional job that would allow me to pay the bills and give me time to figure out what I wanted. That was nearly 15 years ago. Either I’m the slowest decision maker known to man, or at some point I started sleepwalking. I suppose it’s no wonder that I still think of myself as a carefree 25 year old—it’s probably the last time I really tried to make a plan for my life.
Of course, I may be a mental 25 year old because I actually felt like I had a handle on my life back then, and I’d like to get back there. I was out of school. I was making money. I was living with The Ex, and absolutely believing that my audition for the part of “wife” was going well. Perhaps I’m unwilling to really look at what went wrong, so I’m living in a state of suspended animation—embracing my apartment, lack of emotional ties or obligations and Ikea furniture.
The body… well, the body is what it is—confused. I’m getting acne now. Now?? You should not have to worry about breaking out and breaking a hip all in the same year (ok, so the hips aren’t that bad, but you know what I mean).
So, does this change? Will I suddenly see the world as an advanced thirty-something rather than an insecure and befuddled post-grad? Perhaps the only way I will actually feel like a thirty-something is by dating someone who actually is 25. Well, ok. If that’s what I have to do, I have to do it. Fine. The things I do in the name of advancing mental health. Sigh.
Kate, enjoying the X-Files resurgence that was part of my 25th year, as well. Can't wait for ET tomorrow.
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
My brain is having a hard time accepting my age. At this stage of the game, no one is ever going to refer to me as precocious again. The “firsts” seem few and far between for me. Well, I suppose I could be among the first of my friends to go through menopause, but I’m not sure I really want to win that race.
I’m still contemplating what I want to be when I grow up. And then it strikes me that I am a “grown up” and that ship is sailing. I have a job. I have a good job. I have a job I’ve been doing for years despite the fact that it was just supposed to be something to tide me over until my graduate school loans were paid off. It was a transitional job that would allow me to pay the bills and give me time to figure out what I wanted. That was nearly 15 years ago. Either I’m the slowest decision maker known to man, or at some point I started sleepwalking. I suppose it’s no wonder that I still think of myself as a carefree 25 year old—it’s probably the last time I really tried to make a plan for my life.
Of course, I may be a mental 25 year old because I actually felt like I had a handle on my life back then, and I’d like to get back there. I was out of school. I was making money. I was living with The Ex, and absolutely believing that my audition for the part of “wife” was going well. Perhaps I’m unwilling to really look at what went wrong, so I’m living in a state of suspended animation—embracing my apartment, lack of emotional ties or obligations and Ikea furniture.
The body… well, the body is what it is—confused. I’m getting acne now. Now?? You should not have to worry about breaking out and breaking a hip all in the same year (ok, so the hips aren’t that bad, but you know what I mean).
So, does this change? Will I suddenly see the world as an advanced thirty-something rather than an insecure and befuddled post-grad? Perhaps the only way I will actually feel like a thirty-something is by dating someone who actually is 25. Well, ok. If that’s what I have to do, I have to do it. Fine. The things I do in the name of advancing mental health. Sigh.
Kate, enjoying the X-Files resurgence that was part of my 25th year, as well. Can't wait for ET tomorrow.
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Sunday, May 11, 2008
A Madness Shared By…
You know what I’m doing right now? I mean besides typing, of course. I’m online at a place called The Haven. There are a lot of people in this one thread right now (so many that we’re likely to crash it), from all over the world, waiting to hear something about the new X-Files trailer that should be released at midnight PST (http://www.xfiles.com/). Actually, we just recently figured out that it was supposed to be midnight PST. Some people, quite inspired really, tried to change their time zones to some remote locale in Russia to try to fake out the release time early this morning (I love the ingenuity!), but when that didn’t work, we began to oh-so-patiently await the legitimate release.
Ok, patiently is a bit of a lie. These people are pretty inventive, though. For instance, I just got a kick out of watching a video on youtube of a girl waiting for the trailer to be released. Yep, it’s a video of her waiting. There are also videos of people reacting to the short promo “therapy” videos that were released this weekend (if you haven’t seen them, go to aintitcool and refresh so that you can see both promos in the top right hand corner). These are my people! Now, a whole bunch of us appear to be watching the first X-Files movie to kill time.
I have to be functional at 5am. I can’t stay up until midnight just to see a trailer that I can watch all day tomorrow (provided work doesn’t block the stream). But there is something about sharing the madness, about reading the reactions as they happen that make this experience much more entertaining than can possibly be explained to non-fans. You know, also known as sane people.
Can you imagine what would happen if I turned this kind of energy onto a guy? Honestly, my not dating is probably a public service. Think of the damage I would do.
“I had you big time”
Kate, humming the X-Files theme song and wondering when the intervention will be scheduled
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Ok, patiently is a bit of a lie. These people are pretty inventive, though. For instance, I just got a kick out of watching a video on youtube of a girl waiting for the trailer to be released. Yep, it’s a video of her waiting. There are also videos of people reacting to the short promo “therapy” videos that were released this weekend (if you haven’t seen them, go to aintitcool and refresh so that you can see both promos in the top right hand corner). These are my people! Now, a whole bunch of us appear to be watching the first X-Files movie to kill time.
I have to be functional at 5am. I can’t stay up until midnight just to see a trailer that I can watch all day tomorrow (provided work doesn’t block the stream). But there is something about sharing the madness, about reading the reactions as they happen that make this experience much more entertaining than can possibly be explained to non-fans. You know, also known as sane people.
Can you imagine what would happen if I turned this kind of energy onto a guy? Honestly, my not dating is probably a public service. Think of the damage I would do.
“I had you big time”
Kate, humming the X-Files theme song and wondering when the intervention will be scheduled
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Saturday, May 10, 2008
"Pool Party"
Please go add the following movie to your Netflix queue: “Pool Party” by Farmview Films. If you accidentally happen upon something pornographic—that’s not it. I promise you, the actual film “Pool Party” isn’t even spicey enough for Cinemax early evening. Oh, wait...
Now, I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that “Pool Party” doesn’t really sound like a “Kate Movie” given my rants, of late. And you would be right, of course. A “Kate Movie” would involve David Duchovny playing some sort of heroic character declaring his undying devotion to my character. Because in this little fantasy, I am a celebrated and respected actress currently playing his love interest in a series of blockbuster, critically acclaimed films. And no, the fact that I’m not currently working as an actress does not diminish the odds of this little fantasy coming true in the least, but thanks for pointing that out none-the-less.
Despite the non-“Kate Movie”-ness of “Pool Party”, put it in your darn queue anyway. And it really doesn’t matter if you don’t currently have Netflix because Netflix gives you a free two week trial. Go! Go now!
I could say that this is a brilliant satire—a play on the ego sport sex culture we find ourselves in (borrowing the best phrase ever from “Made of Honor”), but that would be a lie. There are some good performances, and some moments of hilarity. But in reality, I’m asking you to do this as a favor because I know the filmmakers and the actors, and I’d like to see this whole independent filmmaking folly work out for everyone. Also, how many times do you order a movie that features a monkey clown? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Thank me later.
As I’m sure you can tell by the cover, it’s not really a family film. But the reviewers have recommended it to drunk frat boys everywhere, and since that’s absolutely the demographic the filmmakers were going for—I think they are taking that as a win.
Also, I’d like to point out that nothing was bleached, as far as I know, for this production.
Bonus points if you can find me in it, since I am in the movie (although I wasn’t supposed to be—long story). And no, I won’t tell you which scenes. Or what I look like. That would be cheating.
Kate, who seems to write in bursts these days
http://cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
Now, I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that “Pool Party” doesn’t really sound like a “Kate Movie” given my rants, of late. And you would be right, of course. A “Kate Movie” would involve David Duchovny playing some sort of heroic character declaring his undying devotion to my character. Because in this little fantasy, I am a celebrated and respected actress currently playing his love interest in a series of blockbuster, critically acclaimed films. And no, the fact that I’m not currently working as an actress does not diminish the odds of this little fantasy coming true in the least, but thanks for pointing that out none-the-less.
Despite the non-“Kate Movie”-ness of “Pool Party”, put it in your darn queue anyway. And it really doesn’t matter if you don’t currently have Netflix because Netflix gives you a free two week trial. Go! Go now!
I could say that this is a brilliant satire—a play on the ego sport sex culture we find ourselves in (borrowing the best phrase ever from “Made of Honor”), but that would be a lie. There are some good performances, and some moments of hilarity. But in reality, I’m asking you to do this as a favor because I know the filmmakers and the actors, and I’d like to see this whole independent filmmaking folly work out for everyone. Also, how many times do you order a movie that features a monkey clown? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Thank me later.
As I’m sure you can tell by the cover, it’s not really a family film. But the reviewers have recommended it to drunk frat boys everywhere, and since that’s absolutely the demographic the filmmakers were going for—I think they are taking that as a win.
Also, I’d like to point out that nothing was bleached, as far as I know, for this production.
Bonus points if you can find me in it, since I am in the movie (although I wasn’t supposed to be—long story). And no, I won’t tell you which scenes. Or what I look like. That would be cheating.
Kate, who seems to write in bursts these days
http://cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com/
katedating@yahoo.com
This Week
Things this week that made me go, “hmmmmmm”:
1. The bank near my building has two walk-up ATMs and a drive-thru ATM. The theory behind this doesn’t seem all that complicated: if you are in a car, you drive up to the ATM, and if you are on foot, you walk up the gradual incline to use the walk-up ATM. Does this seem really confusing? Am I losing anybody here? No? Well, you are officially at least 10 steps ahead of the woman I encountered earlier in the week who kept three cars waiting while she stood at the drive-thru ATM doing about a month’s worth of banking. Did I mention that both walk-up ATMs were empty?
2. Pedestrians in LA clearly have a death wish—there can be no other explanation for holding a conversation with another person while standing the middle of crosswalk. In fact, if you continue to have conversations while standing nearly motionless while a car is desperately trying to finally get through a traffic light, it’s actually entirely legal for that car to hit you just for being stupid. No, seriously, that’s an actual law now. I totally did not just make that one up. Nope. Not me.
3. Cars that stop right after they’ve gotten through an intersection just because they can confuse me. This woman in a big black SUV got through a stop sign, made a turn and then just stopped leaving the car that turned behind her in the middle of the intersection (because that driver did logically believe that her car was going to keep going). Since that second car was stuck in the intersection, the car behind it couldn’t proceed and so on. There were probably 6 cars involved in this little backup, all patiently (no horns, but I’m sure wild, internal, Chloe-style swearing) waiting for the SUV to move, again.
Did the SUV breakdown? No. Was it making another turn? No. Was it trying to avoid hitting someone crossing the street? No. It was just stopped. The driver appeared to be having some sort of a thought, and that was clearly too much for her. Everyone knows you shouldn’t multitask while driving and the act of contemplation must have been so rare for this woman, that she was stymied by it. Either that, or it was actually this woman stopping again so that the paparazzi could get a “surprise” shot of her driving. And for the record, I have idea who she is, or why anyone would give a damn about her driving somewhere.
4. Why is it legal to shove a camera up someone’s dress on a public street? Look, these pantyless, rehab girls might be asking for some attention, but it seems like the paparazzi are constantly going for the crotch shot now. I swear to you, I saw a photo of Jessica Alba (pregnant Jessica Alba) walking down the street. She was wearing a long-ish skirt. And there was a photog behind her trying to get his camera under the skirt. He was practically on the ground behind her to try to get this shot. What the hell? How is that legal? For that matter, why is it legal for tabloids and the like to make money off of someone else’s image? Surely if someone is making money off of you, you should be entitled to some of that coin. A lawyer I know explained it as the difference between entertainment and news. Now all I need is to explain to me why someone walking to Starbucks is news.
5. Nearly all the covers of the glossy entertainment magazines confused me. Who are these people? How does one end up on a non-reality, reality show? I mean, other than through a sex tape? It’s funny because when acting teachers used tot tell me that it was important to get “tape on myself” for casting directors, I don’t think they had the new “stolen” sex tape craze in mind.
6. Don’t worry. Anal bleaching and vaginal rejuvenation still have me confused, as well.
Kate, perpetually confused and cheering for the Cavs!
http://katedating.blogspot.com
http://cafepress.com/katedating
katedating@yahoo.com
1. The bank near my building has two walk-up ATMs and a drive-thru ATM. The theory behind this doesn’t seem all that complicated: if you are in a car, you drive up to the ATM, and if you are on foot, you walk up the gradual incline to use the walk-up ATM. Does this seem really confusing? Am I losing anybody here? No? Well, you are officially at least 10 steps ahead of the woman I encountered earlier in the week who kept three cars waiting while she stood at the drive-thru ATM doing about a month’s worth of banking. Did I mention that both walk-up ATMs were empty?
2. Pedestrians in LA clearly have a death wish—there can be no other explanation for holding a conversation with another person while standing the middle of crosswalk. In fact, if you continue to have conversations while standing nearly motionless while a car is desperately trying to finally get through a traffic light, it’s actually entirely legal for that car to hit you just for being stupid. No, seriously, that’s an actual law now. I totally did not just make that one up. Nope. Not me.
3. Cars that stop right after they’ve gotten through an intersection just because they can confuse me. This woman in a big black SUV got through a stop sign, made a turn and then just stopped leaving the car that turned behind her in the middle of the intersection (because that driver did logically believe that her car was going to keep going). Since that second car was stuck in the intersection, the car behind it couldn’t proceed and so on. There were probably 6 cars involved in this little backup, all patiently (no horns, but I’m sure wild, internal, Chloe-style swearing) waiting for the SUV to move, again.
Did the SUV breakdown? No. Was it making another turn? No. Was it trying to avoid hitting someone crossing the street? No. It was just stopped. The driver appeared to be having some sort of a thought, and that was clearly too much for her. Everyone knows you shouldn’t multitask while driving and the act of contemplation must have been so rare for this woman, that she was stymied by it. Either that, or it was actually this woman stopping again so that the paparazzi could get a “surprise” shot of her driving. And for the record, I have idea who she is, or why anyone would give a damn about her driving somewhere.
4. Why is it legal to shove a camera up someone’s dress on a public street? Look, these pantyless, rehab girls might be asking for some attention, but it seems like the paparazzi are constantly going for the crotch shot now. I swear to you, I saw a photo of Jessica Alba (pregnant Jessica Alba) walking down the street. She was wearing a long-ish skirt. And there was a photog behind her trying to get his camera under the skirt. He was practically on the ground behind her to try to get this shot. What the hell? How is that legal? For that matter, why is it legal for tabloids and the like to make money off of someone else’s image? Surely if someone is making money off of you, you should be entitled to some of that coin. A lawyer I know explained it as the difference between entertainment and news. Now all I need is to explain to me why someone walking to Starbucks is news.
5. Nearly all the covers of the glossy entertainment magazines confused me. Who are these people? How does one end up on a non-reality, reality show? I mean, other than through a sex tape? It’s funny because when acting teachers used tot tell me that it was important to get “tape on myself” for casting directors, I don’t think they had the new “stolen” sex tape craze in mind.
6. Don’t worry. Anal bleaching and vaginal rejuvenation still have me confused, as well.
Kate, perpetually confused and cheering for the Cavs!
http://katedating.blogspot.com
http://cafepress.com/katedating
katedating@yahoo.com
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Who Do They Have?
Out of curiosity, who are the television/film role models for teen and tween girls? Are there young characters out there that are smart and honorable… and clothed?
When I was quite young, I wanted to be Nancy Drew. Grant it, she did seem to have some very cute Hardy boy friends, but it was the sleuthing that I admired. Not only was she savvy, but she was also unfailingly polite. What’s not to like about that? She had my priorities—school, righting great injustice and solid friendships. You know what else she had in the later years? A boyfriend named Ned who admired her for her intelligence and her persistence. He never once said (at least out loud), “damn, I want to hit that”.
As I neared the training bra years, I’ll admit that I wanted to be one of Charlie’s Angels. Guess which one? Sabrina. I wanted to be Sabrina. My hair may have been feathered, but I wanted to be Sabrina. She was smart and kind, and always managed to save the day. She was extremely capable and admired for her intellect—pretty much the only qualities I aspired to have. Also, she very rarely had to do any of it in a bikini (although to be fair, I do wish I looked like Jaclyn Smith).
My mid-teen years were spent with dreams of becoming Laura Holt. She had a wild side (tales of live-in boyfriend kept Steele guessing), but also an unwavering moral center. She was a strong, opinionated, inventive woman with a penchant for the tall, dark and mysterious. She was a crusader with a weakness for chocolate. While often dismissed by male colleagues, she made the world safe for all of us rebels. Plus, she looked great in hats.
And then there is Scully. While I’d like to avoid her abductions and health problems, no one can deny the character was as smart and tenacious as they come. Again, her intelligence was admired. You never felt like Scully thought, “hmmm, maybe something with a higher slit, more cleavage—and today, when I know the right answer, I wont speak up… I’ll just tilt my head winningly and let Mulder think he’s right.” Hell, no! People noticed Scully—all 5’2” of her. Not because she was beautiful (although she was), but because she was astonishingly clever, tirelessly dedicated and loyal. If anything, Scully (and Mulder) proved that smart is sexy and that insightful debate can make for some arousing foreplay. How could he help but be fascinated? How could anyone?
Who do young girls/women have now? Bratz dolls? Reality shows full of girls who are becoming famous for sex tapes, vapidity and breast implants? I hope against hope that they are looking to Hermione Granger rather than the current crop of panty-less rehab girls. Where are the crusaders? Are they being held hostage by the sex kittens (and have I inadvertently given Fox its next sitcom)?
Or am I just old?
Kate, who has suddenly realized that she was destined to become a detective and went radically wrong somewhere
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
When I was quite young, I wanted to be Nancy Drew. Grant it, she did seem to have some very cute Hardy boy friends, but it was the sleuthing that I admired. Not only was she savvy, but she was also unfailingly polite. What’s not to like about that? She had my priorities—school, righting great injustice and solid friendships. You know what else she had in the later years? A boyfriend named Ned who admired her for her intelligence and her persistence. He never once said (at least out loud), “damn, I want to hit that”.
As I neared the training bra years, I’ll admit that I wanted to be one of Charlie’s Angels. Guess which one? Sabrina. I wanted to be Sabrina. My hair may have been feathered, but I wanted to be Sabrina. She was smart and kind, and always managed to save the day. She was extremely capable and admired for her intellect—pretty much the only qualities I aspired to have. Also, she very rarely had to do any of it in a bikini (although to be fair, I do wish I looked like Jaclyn Smith).
My mid-teen years were spent with dreams of becoming Laura Holt. She had a wild side (tales of live-in boyfriend kept Steele guessing), but also an unwavering moral center. She was a strong, opinionated, inventive woman with a penchant for the tall, dark and mysterious. She was a crusader with a weakness for chocolate. While often dismissed by male colleagues, she made the world safe for all of us rebels. Plus, she looked great in hats.
And then there is Scully. While I’d like to avoid her abductions and health problems, no one can deny the character was as smart and tenacious as they come. Again, her intelligence was admired. You never felt like Scully thought, “hmmm, maybe something with a higher slit, more cleavage—and today, when I know the right answer, I wont speak up… I’ll just tilt my head winningly and let Mulder think he’s right.” Hell, no! People noticed Scully—all 5’2” of her. Not because she was beautiful (although she was), but because she was astonishingly clever, tirelessly dedicated and loyal. If anything, Scully (and Mulder) proved that smart is sexy and that insightful debate can make for some arousing foreplay. How could he help but be fascinated? How could anyone?
Who do young girls/women have now? Bratz dolls? Reality shows full of girls who are becoming famous for sex tapes, vapidity and breast implants? I hope against hope that they are looking to Hermione Granger rather than the current crop of panty-less rehab girls. Where are the crusaders? Are they being held hostage by the sex kittens (and have I inadvertently given Fox its next sitcom)?
Or am I just old?
Kate, who has suddenly realized that she was destined to become a detective and went radically wrong somewhere
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Brief Injury Update
I just injured myself lying in an inert lump. I was completely motionless while watching a baseball game. When…WHAMO…I got a cramp in my foot.
No seriously, it was a blinding pain, almost as though my foot picked up on the vague suggestion of movement brought on by my breathing.
I’m fairly certain the end is near.
No seriously, it was a blinding pain, almost as though my foot picked up on the vague suggestion of movement brought on by my breathing.
I’m fairly certain the end is near.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
How the...
I have broken my ass.
I don’t mean I danced it off. I don’t mean I’ve been working it off. I don’t mean I’ve busted my butt to accomplish something. No metaphors here.
I have broken my ass. And I don’t know how.
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve noticed a persistent tailbone ache. If I sit a certain way, particularly when working at home on the computer, it’s mighty uncomfortable. I went to the movies this weekend, and had to keep shifting my weight. Driving my car has moments of twinge.
Now most people bruise their tailbones because they are doing something creative and naked, and something goes wrong (or very right, depending on your take of things). I can guarantee you that not only is this not the case in my situation, but that I can barely remember the last time my tailbone was actually in any real danger.
I have not fallen. I have not backed into anything. No one has tried to beat me senseless either with a 2x4, or with their wit in weeks.
Dee thinks I have a secret life. If I do, it’s news to me. Perhaps, my ass is having a better time than I realize. Although I do try to keep it with me as often as possible, so I’d like to think I’d notice something like that. Then again, I’ve been very distracted lately.
No, I think that I’ve sat on it for so long, that it has finally had enough. I have this visual of my ever expanding cheeks angrily trying to strangle my tailbone. Seriously, as they get bigger, they are actually growing inward. And now the tailbone is striking back! I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that I’ve reached a stage in life where my bones are actually bruising from inactivity. Careful kids, sitting on the couch can be bum-deadly!
Swell. I was worried that it would take years to get to this level of decrepitude.
Now I have to figure out how to explain to work that rather than propping myself upright while feigning interest, I will spend the next few weeks supine. I’m sure people can just step over me.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
I don’t mean I danced it off. I don’t mean I’ve been working it off. I don’t mean I’ve busted my butt to accomplish something. No metaphors here.
I have broken my ass. And I don’t know how.
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve noticed a persistent tailbone ache. If I sit a certain way, particularly when working at home on the computer, it’s mighty uncomfortable. I went to the movies this weekend, and had to keep shifting my weight. Driving my car has moments of twinge.
Now most people bruise their tailbones because they are doing something creative and naked, and something goes wrong (or very right, depending on your take of things). I can guarantee you that not only is this not the case in my situation, but that I can barely remember the last time my tailbone was actually in any real danger.
I have not fallen. I have not backed into anything. No one has tried to beat me senseless either with a 2x4, or with their wit in weeks.
Dee thinks I have a secret life. If I do, it’s news to me. Perhaps, my ass is having a better time than I realize. Although I do try to keep it with me as often as possible, so I’d like to think I’d notice something like that. Then again, I’ve been very distracted lately.
No, I think that I’ve sat on it for so long, that it has finally had enough. I have this visual of my ever expanding cheeks angrily trying to strangle my tailbone. Seriously, as they get bigger, they are actually growing inward. And now the tailbone is striking back! I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that I’ve reached a stage in life where my bones are actually bruising from inactivity. Careful kids, sitting on the couch can be bum-deadly!
Swell. I was worried that it would take years to get to this level of decrepitude.
Now I have to figure out how to explain to work that rather than propping myself upright while feigning interest, I will spend the next few weeks supine. I’m sure people can just step over me.
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Saturday, April 26, 2008
They’re Stealing What?
http://www.reuters.com/article/oddlyEnoughNews/idUSN2319603620080423?feedType=RSS&feedName=oddlyEnoughNews&rpc=22&sp=true
“Penis theft panic hits city…”
I swear to you, this is a real headline. It’s from a Reuters article, so I don’t think it’s a hoax, either. Obviously, this is a very serious news story…very serious… stop laughing…I’m not laughing. Those tears streaming down my face and the shaking are all elements of fear for the men of Democratic Republic of Congo.
To summarize, the men of DRC believe that sorcery is behind rampant cursing of the always magical male equipment. In short (bada bum), men claim to be having encounters with people (strange men in cabs wearing gold rings are always good to avoid) capable of making the genitals “disappear”—as in making them either impotent, or leaving them with a very tiny package. People who have actually been arrested because the last time there was penis panic, 12 people were beaten to death after being suspected of the hexings.
Sure, it’s probably not health concerns, diet, steroid use, drug use, age, a sudden cold snap or genetics. I’d go straight for the witchcraft angle, too. It’s fascinating to read about a widespread panic based on male insecurity. Then again, there is this quote:
“It's real. Just yesterday here, there was a man who was a victim. We saw. What was left was tiny”
I’m not sure how this stranger at the phone card stand saw this guy’s… uh… problem, but I guess I might want to blame others to if this was the case. How are the police substantiating the claims? Are there before and after photos? That’s bound to be one hell of a police report.
Look, it’s not as if I don’t understand these concerns. I’ve had more than one penis stolen from me over the years. If I were the DRC police, I’d be looking for blondes, usually in their 20s.
Never say I’m not all about public safety.
Kate, who swears this won’t become a private parts blog… unless I keep reading stories like this
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
“Penis theft panic hits city…”
I swear to you, this is a real headline. It’s from a Reuters article, so I don’t think it’s a hoax, either. Obviously, this is a very serious news story…very serious… stop laughing…I’m not laughing. Those tears streaming down my face and the shaking are all elements of fear for the men of Democratic Republic of Congo.
To summarize, the men of DRC believe that sorcery is behind rampant cursing of the always magical male equipment. In short (bada bum), men claim to be having encounters with people (strange men in cabs wearing gold rings are always good to avoid) capable of making the genitals “disappear”—as in making them either impotent, or leaving them with a very tiny package. People who have actually been arrested because the last time there was penis panic, 12 people were beaten to death after being suspected of the hexings.
Sure, it’s probably not health concerns, diet, steroid use, drug use, age, a sudden cold snap or genetics. I’d go straight for the witchcraft angle, too. It’s fascinating to read about a widespread panic based on male insecurity. Then again, there is this quote:
“It's real. Just yesterday here, there was a man who was a victim. We saw. What was left was tiny”
I’m not sure how this stranger at the phone card stand saw this guy’s… uh… problem, but I guess I might want to blame others to if this was the case. How are the police substantiating the claims? Are there before and after photos? That’s bound to be one hell of a police report.
Look, it’s not as if I don’t understand these concerns. I’ve had more than one penis stolen from me over the years. If I were the DRC police, I’d be looking for blondes, usually in their 20s.
Never say I’m not all about public safety.
Kate, who swears this won’t become a private parts blog… unless I keep reading stories like this
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Moonlight at Paley Recap
Another Paley evening means another tired and slightly bemused morning—but it was worth it. As I mentioned earlier, last evening I attended the last in the drama screening series at the Paley Center. It was a night with the cast and the creators of the CBS drama, “Moonlight”. The panel included Harry Werksman (Executive Producer), Brian White, Gabrielle G. Stanton (Co-Executive Producer), Jason Dohring, Eric Winter, Sophia Myles, Alex O'Loughlin and Joel Silver (yep, that Joel Silver).
To say the Moonlight fans were enthusiastic would be a huge understatement. They are very invested in the success of this show, and had a really interesting give and take with the panel. Kristin (from E!) was the moderator, and even she remarked that she had never seen a crowd so excited before one of the Paley events (LOL! She should have attended the X-Files event, which was probably close).
Disclaimer here: I watch Moonlight, but wasn’t there from the beginning. My friends PT and M were already big fans, and their interest made me go online to watch the first four episodes that I had missed. So, relative to the crowd on hand, I’m a novice. As one fan humorously told the panel (specifically, Alex, I think), “[we] know more about the episodes than [you] do.” This is a good environment for me to observe rather than participate because I knew any question I might have had for the panel would have been stupid, and clearly something discussed already on a message board somewhere. I kept my head down, and tried not to embarrass PT.
PT had two goals: Meet Alex O’Loughlin and not get arrested. Good solid goals for the evening, particularly since I had limited funds to extract her if she got arrested. I assume she would have needed no extraction from Alex, if that had worked out. Alas, she did not get to meet him one on one. Normally, the clips are shown before the panel, and then the fans get a chance to meet with the cast/creators after the event. For this one, they showed a full episode (fans who weren’t there—you’re going to be pretty pleased with Friday’s ep) at the end, and the panel left. PT did go down as the screening was starting in hopes of a glimpse, but sadly, not meant to be. I heard somewhere that some of them were heading back to set, so that must have been a long, long evening for them.
Some of my favorite moments from the evening:
1) Sophia Myles on why she couldn’t give blood at the blood drive that was being held in conjunction with the event (long story—fan driven event): Apologies, I’m not able to give Blood because I’m from England. Apparently, we might still have mad cow disease [much laughter], so I did try, but they said no.
2) The accents! Intellectually, I knew that Alex O’Loughlin was Australian and that Sophia was English, but it did throw me a bit when they began speaking. Joel Silver joked as each of them started “he’s Australian, he’s not doing an accent” and “English, she’s English, another accent”.
3) The crowd reaction to Eric Winter talking about joining the cast was very entertaining. Look, this guy is hot. As an observer, I can see why having a very attractive man add some sexual tension to the story could be a good thing. But I know any time a woman showed up on The X-Files, I got a little tense, too (Diana Fowley, anyone?). Kristin kept mentioning that she missed Eric on Brothers & Sisters. He pretended to use the big scales: “Kevin or Beth, Kevin or Beth” – which actually got him booed (but not in a mean way) because fans are always going to be protective. Kristin explained, “If you are moving in on Beth, I think they want you back on Brothers & Sisters”.
4) The interplay between Alex and Sophia was very entertaining. While discussing their on-screen chemistry (which they both think is hot on camera):
Sophia: “I think because our relationship is so strong and platonic—I often think when people get involved outside of work, chemistry onscreen goes—but because we’re like brother and sister…”
Alex: “Which is why I just say, No, Sophia” [laughter] “They are friends, they can know”
5) Listening to Joel Silver talk about the process with his other producers was enlightening. I’m sure there is a certain level of frustration with not really knowing what the show’s fate is, but they seem to be planning for an engaging and intense second season should they (when they) get that pick up.
It was a really entertaining evening, and if you have been a casual fan (or if you are a new fan because of Eric Winter), now is the time to check out the show.
As a side note, for those of you keeping score at home, I’ve spent time in the company of 4 of my 5 men of distraction in the last two months. Duchovny in February. Nick Lea in March. George Clooney in March. Alex O’Loughlin in April. Sure, there were hundreds of other people there, but I think it still counts. I even had the opportunity to add #5 (Jon Hamm), but I was so exhausted from The X-Files Paley event, I didn’t go to the Mad Men one the next day. Still—not a bad spring, distraction-wise. I have to hope my late spring/early summer is equally enticing!
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
To say the Moonlight fans were enthusiastic would be a huge understatement. They are very invested in the success of this show, and had a really interesting give and take with the panel. Kristin (from E!) was the moderator, and even she remarked that she had never seen a crowd so excited before one of the Paley events (LOL! She should have attended the X-Files event, which was probably close).
Disclaimer here: I watch Moonlight, but wasn’t there from the beginning. My friends PT and M were already big fans, and their interest made me go online to watch the first four episodes that I had missed. So, relative to the crowd on hand, I’m a novice. As one fan humorously told the panel (specifically, Alex, I think), “[we] know more about the episodes than [you] do.” This is a good environment for me to observe rather than participate because I knew any question I might have had for the panel would have been stupid, and clearly something discussed already on a message board somewhere. I kept my head down, and tried not to embarrass PT.
PT had two goals: Meet Alex O’Loughlin and not get arrested. Good solid goals for the evening, particularly since I had limited funds to extract her if she got arrested. I assume she would have needed no extraction from Alex, if that had worked out. Alas, she did not get to meet him one on one. Normally, the clips are shown before the panel, and then the fans get a chance to meet with the cast/creators after the event. For this one, they showed a full episode (fans who weren’t there—you’re going to be pretty pleased with Friday’s ep) at the end, and the panel left. PT did go down as the screening was starting in hopes of a glimpse, but sadly, not meant to be. I heard somewhere that some of them were heading back to set, so that must have been a long, long evening for them.
Some of my favorite moments from the evening:
1) Sophia Myles on why she couldn’t give blood at the blood drive that was being held in conjunction with the event (long story—fan driven event): Apologies, I’m not able to give Blood because I’m from England. Apparently, we might still have mad cow disease [much laughter], so I did try, but they said no.
2) The accents! Intellectually, I knew that Alex O’Loughlin was Australian and that Sophia was English, but it did throw me a bit when they began speaking. Joel Silver joked as each of them started “he’s Australian, he’s not doing an accent” and “English, she’s English, another accent”.
3) The crowd reaction to Eric Winter talking about joining the cast was very entertaining. Look, this guy is hot. As an observer, I can see why having a very attractive man add some sexual tension to the story could be a good thing. But I know any time a woman showed up on The X-Files, I got a little tense, too (Diana Fowley, anyone?). Kristin kept mentioning that she missed Eric on Brothers & Sisters. He pretended to use the big scales: “Kevin or Beth, Kevin or Beth” – which actually got him booed (but not in a mean way) because fans are always going to be protective. Kristin explained, “If you are moving in on Beth, I think they want you back on Brothers & Sisters”.
4) The interplay between Alex and Sophia was very entertaining. While discussing their on-screen chemistry (which they both think is hot on camera):
Sophia: “I think because our relationship is so strong and platonic—I often think when people get involved outside of work, chemistry onscreen goes—but because we’re like brother and sister…”
Alex: “Which is why I just say, No, Sophia” [laughter] “They are friends, they can know”
5) Listening to Joel Silver talk about the process with his other producers was enlightening. I’m sure there is a certain level of frustration with not really knowing what the show’s fate is, but they seem to be planning for an engaging and intense second season should they (when they) get that pick up.
It was a really entertaining evening, and if you have been a casual fan (or if you are a new fan because of Eric Winter), now is the time to check out the show.
As a side note, for those of you keeping score at home, I’ve spent time in the company of 4 of my 5 men of distraction in the last two months. Duchovny in February. Nick Lea in March. George Clooney in March. Alex O’Loughlin in April. Sure, there were hundreds of other people there, but I think it still counts. I even had the opportunity to add #5 (Jon Hamm), but I was so exhausted from The X-Files Paley event, I didn’t go to the Mad Men one the next day. Still—not a bad spring, distraction-wise. I have to hope my late spring/early summer is equally enticing!
Kate
http://www.cafepress.com/katedating
http://katedating.blogspot.com
katedating@yahoo.com
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Moonlight at Paley
Another night in Los Angeles surrounded by handsome men. I know, you'd think I'd be tired of this by now. Oh, wait, no that's crazy talk. But I did enjoy another night at the Paley Center. Tonight's screening and Q&A was with the cast and creators of the CBS show "Moonlight". I'll write more on this later, but for the moment, I'm loading some of my favorite photos from the event (all thanks to Dee who sacrificed her camera to the cause!).
(as always, click on the small photo for a much, much, much larger version)
(as always, click on the small photo for a much, much, much larger version)
Sunday, April 20, 2008
NSFW: Only in LA
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
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
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
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