Discovery #1

I awakened with a start this morning, but not from a nightmare about Bette Boop escaping, hurray! Before I could control myself, I was giggling deliriously and, giggling like an obnoxiously loud schoolgirl. J groaned. The boy likes his sleep. “What’s so funny?” he slurred, eyes half shut.

“I…I….I…ummm,” okay I was getting there with a response. Ah, Bret Michaels! Now it was utterly hiiiilaaaaarious. Here’s the back story. One of my best guy friends (we’ll call him C Money because it’s his nickname) called me last night while I was nearly in a coma, watching none other than “Rock of Love with Bret Michaels.” C Money chatted about his new job, and I chatted about how much of a loser I was for watching this damn show.

However, C Money admitted without the guilt and embarrassment that I had had, “Oh, of course I’ve seen “Rock of Love.” How could someone not? How come he wears a bandana to bed though?” I had never heard C Money sound… so perplexed, and I had no idea.

 Maybe my job is causing me to lose more brain cells than even (gasp) alcohol, but I didn’t come up with the only reasonable explanation for the bedtime bandana until this morning and, in the process of my discovery, I not only uncontrollably cracked up, but also woke up my cute, sleepy bf. Bret Michaels must wear his bandana to bed to hide his balding. Shhhh, it’ll be our ‘lil secret. Actually, cancel that. Everyone out there smarter than me (it’s the job, I swear) must’ve known this from day one pilot. I’m still laughing about this as I type at my desk when I should be doing, ah, work, but I can’t help it! Something about Bret Michaels… balding. HAHAHA. Does this make me a bad person??

Discovery #2

Just today learned the meaning of quinoa. Oh, hello, I’m Korlina & run-on sentences are my PALS! I had it for lunch again today, the second time in my life since I had it for the first time ever last week. Can I just fuckin’ say that it is fuckin’ awesome? I don’t usually swear, but quinoa forces me to involunatarily swear because it’s so deserving of a metal of honor, given by Korlina, Queen of Yummy Food. I only wish I had known of quinoa’s existense, like, 15 years ago. Sigh.

Quinoa (pronounced /ˈkinwɑ/ KEEN-wah or /ˈkinoʊə/ KEE-no-uh, Spanish quinua, quínoa, or quinoa) is a species of goosefoot (Chenopodium) grown as a crop primarily for its edible seeds. It is a pseudocereal rather than a true cereal as it is not a grass. Its leaves are also eaten as a leaf vegetable, much like amaranth, but the commercial availability of quinoa greens is currently limited. Sigh.

Thank you, “Hugo’s” & “Newsroom Cafe” for providing plenty of plates of quinoa readily available to me whenever work orders out from your fine establishments. You’ve made my day. Eh, yeah, food can make my day.

Discovery #3

My dad would be so ashamed of me. I filled out an “about you” thingy on “LA Bloggers” today, (thank you, Bri ) and one of the points about myself that I mentioned was that I collect matches. Yes, you did hear that right. I.collect.matches. Am.lame.

Here’s a ‘lil back story for you. My dad, I love him so, collects tons of different groups of actual objects. He has had and maintained a stamp collection since the age of six. He has collected baseball cards since he was able to talk. He keeps a collection of dusty hummels in a glass hutch in my parents’ living room. He devotes another hutch, in the dining room, to a collection of steins.

He (and my mom is a part of this collecting phenomenon) collects Joyce Buyers Caroler dolls. Yeah, dolls. If you’re from the east coast, you most likely have seen these before. They are best described as dolls without legs, (just sticks for legs under skirts or pants) who have paper mache faces. On the paper mached faces are mouths, wide open, because they are caroling. They sport old fashioned New England-y, winter garb, fresh with ear muffs and poofy handwarmers. These figurine dolls come out to play at Christmas. They come out to play all.over.parents’.house. However, I love these dolls, despite their pervasiveness and, in my younger days, thrived on arranging them. “Night watchman, you go there! Violin dudes, you can stay in the kitchen with the sausage vendor… now move it, move it!” Yes, Korlina has a bossy streak!

My dad’s most recent collecting adventure consists of golf balls. He even has a special case in a hallway to show off all his golf balls. As ‘lil Korlina, my dad encouraged me to collect Barbie dolls. The Barbie dolls are sitting in my old childhood bedroom back in Boston, still in their cases (so not to de-value them by playing with them and then ruining them), in an oversized storage bin. Yup, Barbies, or what I like to call “Barbs.” Barbs made me feel fat & not so perky in certain places. Okay, now I get why I stopped the art of collecting anything other than matches. Dad, I think you should be proud. At least I collect something.