Last Friday I found out from the place where I interviewed at the week prior that I got the job. Wahoo! Only… only… I am still wishing I hear from the other place I interviewed with & get an offer there. Why? Well, it would be a long term corporate gig. Even so, both gigs are a mere 5 minutes away from my apartment. I know! Score! Really, I’ve never had the luxury of working close to home and avoiding horrible traffic, so this is a welcomed treat fo sure!

In cuter news, J and I have a new cat. In fact, it’s technically J’s cat. His name is Sammy. He is completely and utterly adorable. He loves to cuddle, follow you around, and find cozy spots to lounge in. By the way, it was J’s idea to get a new cat because he had started to feel bad for Bette Boop. What with her being alone all day long and getting plumper, he decided it was time. Bette had grown accustomed to being chased around by cats all day when I had a roommate with two cats. The day those 2 cats hit the road, along with my old roommate, the plump by the minute version of Bette Boop was created.

Moving on, on Sunday morning J and I decided to check out an animal shelter in San Gabriel. To anyone out there in the Southern California area, this place had the cutest cats and kittens. Therefore, if you’re contemplating adopting a cat (the only way to do it I’ve decided), check this place out. They also had plentyof dogs desperately in need of good homes. At one point I glanced over at a boarder collie & seriously just wanted to take him from his poopy cage, (I love how these shelters are trying to save animals, but HATE the poop everywhere. I mean COME ON!) and hope that he liked cats. I’m sure he did. He was an old male. You could tell he knew what love was, and that perhaps he once was loved by the owners who he strayed from by accident. To me, that’s what all these abandoned, homeless animals are victims of- accidents. Accidents brought on by the universe. Too many animals, too few people. I’ll wipe a tear away now & apologize for this tangent. What can I say? I loooooove animals. I love all animals. Nope, no basset hounds to be found at this San Gabriel facility. However, there were many bigger dogs and an insane amt of pit bulls as sweet as any other dog a person could hope for, I swear! Damn, that was another tangent, wasn’t it???

Moving on again, a sweet lady named Pat greeted J and I when we arrived at the shelter. She showed us to the girl cat room. It was about 17 girl kitty cats all existing together in one small space, but none of them seemed to mind all too much. I feel as though they were just glad to all be together. The cat I had originally wanted, Yammie, was sitting on a perch. I had seen her pic online and had thought she was the cutest. As cute as she was though, she was incredibly shy. Something about her made me feel as though she wouldn’t be the right fit for Bette Boop. It was as though she was too docile. Anyway, I couldn’t say I was falling in love with any of the cats in that room. One white cat was VERY aggressive, and would interfere whenever J and I tried to pet another cat. At one point she even jumped on J’s back! I think after that he had had enough, and asked Pat if he could check out the boy kitty room just across the way. J must have some kind of charm with the ladies because the girl cats were not too pleased when he left them. Just the same, they settled on my presence as I continued in my quest to “discover” and fall in love with a new girl kitty, just as I had fallen in love with Bette Boop when I adopted her. Unfortunately, in this instance, it just wasn’t happening.

Next thing I knew, Pat returned to the girl kitty cat room without J. I looked across the way & I saw him socializing with the bigger male kitty cats. I continued to ask Pat the standard questions about each and every cat. Is this one good with other cats? Is this one overly aggressive? Is this one better for allergies? Is that one spade? Moments later, J walked in with a glowing face. “I found a really cool cat.” After he uttered those words, I knew we’d be bringing this cat home before I even saw him.

Sammy has the most gorgeous emerald green eyes. He also has the softest patch of white fur on his chest. His body is a lot longer than Bette’s, and his fur a little lighter than Bette’s more severe gray. Right now, the poor little guy has a bad cold and an eye infection, but he’s taking meds & will be just fine.

Of course Bette Boop, being the rather token snobby-pants girl at times, is not being the best to Sammy… yet. I know in my heart that they will get along in time, but for now she will NOT stop with her hissing and showing her teeth whenever he’s near her. She’s also sleeping on top of the fridge, not on her normal pillow on the couch. In fact, Sammy took over this pillow moments within being in our apartment. Perhaps he thought Bette was keeping it warm for him. All I truly know is that I’m thrilled to have a new cat in the apartment! AND now all you guys truly know how much of a cat lady I am!

Sorry, guys. I haven’t been writing all too much on the blog because wrapping this show… is hard hard work. I shall be back… soon. I miss the blog. Oops, but now I better go so I can make sure an IT dude signs a “pick up slip” saying he picked up a computer. Grrrrrr. Yup, that’s been my life for the last few weeks and, yes, these bastard pick up slips haunt my dreams. Again, GRRRR!

On Saturday I found out that my show isn’t picked up for a 2nd season. A friend at a network texted me the news. Unfortunate? Yes! Am I freaking out like whoa? No, not at all. Ask me in a few weeks when I don’t have a job. I accept the fact that my “profession” is unstable. Why oh why didn’t I go into PR or advertising? Well, aren’t jobs in those fields supposed to be more consistent?

I haven’t told my parents yet because, frankly, their reactions always trigger me to freak. Also, I didn’t wanna tell my mom anything upsetting on Mother’s Day weekend. I can be a rotten daughter, (although I swear I never mean to be) but I’m not that mean. “Yeah right!” you snicker. “No really, I’m being serious,” Korlina. Wink.

Luckily, I have friends who are connected, and I’m sure I’ll land a job soon. I’m not too worried about that. However, I wish I could just walk off this current “not picked up next season job” now. Everyone is in not necessarily bad spirits, but definitely “weird” spirits and, I can’t say I’m all too fond of the vibe in the office. What I can say is that I know when to move on (like I have a choice in this instance…) Even so, I’m comforted by the fact that I can recognize this FINALLY at age 26.

Right now I’m praying that I don’t have some kind of throat infection. It hurts when I swallow, I feel run down, and I cannot stop clearing my throat. It’s baaaad. I’m sure the people in my office are sick of hearing Korlina clearing her throat nonstop.

Regardless of how shitty I’m feeling, I PROMISED myself that I would go to the gym today no.matter.what. Guess it’s gonna be a rough one on the eleptical machine because this day is already a doozy. You know what I think this sore throat thing is from? Saturday flip cup. It seems as though every time I either play flip cup or beer pong I end up sick about a half a week later. Hmmm. Something to ponder, but I’m sure it’ll be a mistake I’ll make again at some point or another.

So, I finally went where no girl has gone before, (geeze, who am I kidding? any girl who watched The Real Housewives of New York City probably sampled this form of booze) and tried a Skinny Girl Margarita last night. This was the real deal, people. Petron Silver on the rocks, 4 limes, and a little teeny bit of Triple Sec. It wasn’t the impostor Mexicali cocktail this time. Anywho, can.we.say.naaaasssty?

Seriously, this drink packed too much of a punch for (gasp!) even moi! Every time I took a ‘lil sip through my straw, I shivered uncontrollably. J had one too and, of course, handled the gasoline drink like an ‘ole pro. Give me straight vodka, I’m fine. Even shove straight whiskey in my face if you must. I can down it and feel nothing (alchy much, Korlina?) But straight Tequila? Not.so.much. I don’t know why I suddenly thought I could handle a drink that consists of 99.9% tequila. Shudder. Not even old strawberry margarita mix lessened the shiver-inducing effect.

Moral of this story: Whip yourself up a Skinny Girl (or Guy) Margarita if you wanna be good and drunk after 3 sips of the thang. Oh, and if you can handle a drink that tastes like a beyond potent tequila shot that never ends, then more power to ya!

Since I’ve been drinking myself silly all weekend long, I’m promising myself that I won’t be drinking any margaritas tonight. I need to give my body a break from the booze. Yeah, I know, we’ll see how long this lasts. Depending upon how my day goes, who knows, by this evening I may be downing the bottle of Petron my bf bought yesterday at Sam’s Club.

Sorry I lied in my last post. Obviously, I wasn’t a woman of my word & decided not to write about how much I want a basset hound in a 2nd post dedicated to the subject. Why? Honestly, it’s just impossible to have a doggy right now & it makes me depressed to think about how I can’t have a ‘lil basset pup in my life at the moment. Sigh.

We’re on hiatus at work until Wednesday and, man oh man, the paint on the wall can’t dry fast enough! It’s nice to have some time to recoup, don’t get me wrong, but this is boredom on a whole new scary level. I used to be, back in the day, the kind of [little] girl who could entertain herself easily, any time of day. I would go hunt for treasures in the woods of my backyard, read another edition of “Sweet Valley Twins,” would raid my mom’s jewelry drawers and pretend to be a QVC host, and would make believe I ruled my very own land in my father’s garden. Yup, I would boss around all the porcelain gnome figurines that lingered between the rhododendron and the tomatoes that never compared to the tomatoes of our Italian neighbors. If only I had a little gnome garden at work. Although some would argue I do a pretty good job bossing around real actual people. Anyway, I’m just a girl rambling & wishing she was a lil girl again ’cause ohhhh the boredom!

I played flip cup at my friend’s Cinco de Mayo extravaganza this weekend. Really and truly, I haven’t lost my college day skill at the game. Not surprisingly, I haven’t had so much fun at a party since college! No, there weren’t any Skinny Girl Margaritas at the party, but there were plenty of frozen strawberry margaritas, a variety of Mexican beers, homemade Mexican food, and watermelon balls containing some kind of alcohol. By the time I got home, I wasn’t able to stand on my own two feet very well. According to J, I kept tumbling down. Apparently, he even had to carry me back from our dive seafood restaurant. Oh, yeah, and did I mention that I probably ate my body weight in Mexican food, watermelons, and then later seafood? No? Well, true story. Next weekend I’ll stick to Skinny Girl Margaritas… the real thing, not Mexicali ones.