Posts filed under: ‘I’m Insane‘

Rainy Friday Confessions… This Sounds Kinky, But It Ain’t

Here are a few things that went down on this rainy February Friday.

1. I took an hour nap with the cats on the bed when I had already had a thirteen-hour night’s sleep. I include the cat detail because the cats are not supposed to be allowed in the bedroom ’cause J is allergic. However, this wasn’t the first time in recent weeks, days.

2. For the billionth time in my life, a Starbucks barrista spelled my name on the cup “Christan” when I popped in to order a piping hot green tea latte. Okay, now you know my name… Kristen. Only in Cali have people chosen to spell it “Christan.”

3. Last night I had a dream that I was sleeping in a puddle. I woke to find a wet spot in the bed. I tapped J on the shoulder to demand how this could have happened. He said he was sweaty, so maybe the bed got a ‘lil wet. I know, I know, gross. Just the same, I accepted this explanation, and managed to drift off. Well, tonight, I collapsed onto the bed next to J and, lo, there was a gigantic wet spot AGAIN. It hadn’t been there when I had napped earlier in the day. I looked up at the ceiling. Sure enough, there was a leak. “Shit!” J and I exclaimed in unison. Now, instead of sleeping soundly next to my boyfriend, I am wide awake writing this post. Of course it was my side of the bed.

4. I like all Nicolas Cage movies, I’ve decided, officially and all. Tonight I watched “Bangkok Dangerous” and enjoyed it thoroughly.

5. Since it was pouring buckets, J and I decided to stay in and order Chinese. I had three helpings and could have had four.

6. I ordered an $8O Dr. Denese SPF 30 tinted facial lotion this evening, despite the fact that I promised myself to STOP ORDERING FROM QVC. What truly sold me were not only the before & after models, but also the ultraviolet fluorescent photos. It brought me back to high school, when I went under one of those buggers during “Skin Cancer Awareness Week.” The damage was bad enough then, so it made me panic & ask myself, “HOW MUCH DAMAGE IS THERE NOW???”

7. I embarked on a new book today, “Dewey.” Yup, the cat book. By the time I got to page 30, I had already cried 5 times. I shared this w/J when he got home, assuming he would find this amusing. Instead, he flashed me a concerned frown.

8. I didn’t hear from the place I interviewed with on Monday. My heart sunk a ‘lil.

9. I still don’t know for sure if I have a job with my former boss on a pilot that’s starting soon. I despise uncertainty.

10. A cricket has resided somewhere behind our fridge for the past 3 weeks. It never bothered me one bit. As a matter of fact, it reminded me of the time when I lived with a roommate who had a pet lizard and fed it crickets. I loved that roommate, (not as much as J, but still, she was awesome) and her cute ‘lil lizard. Sadly, the lizard fell ill, and the crickets began to eat it, but that’s a story for another rainy day. Getting back on track, although I took comfort in the cricket’s chirping, (I love nature, what can I say?) J wasn’t so fond of it. He tried killing it with a broom handle, blowing a fan under the fridge, and pounding on the fridge furiously, but it was all no use. The cricket was invincible. I secretly chuckled to myself, but J was mad. Tonight, J’s wish finally came true. While reading Dewey, I heard some pouncing. Sammy and Bette were up to something. Then, I realized that I hadn’t heard our pet cricket in a while. Next thing I knew, Bette was torturing a big tan colored cricket. She taunted it until she couldn’t take it anymore, and then proudly chomped it to bits. Sammy looked on in awe and in jealousy. I woke J up to inform him of the good news. “You let her eat it?” he proclaimed in disgust, “You could have just let it outside!” Yup, I thought to myself. Yup, the girl who didn’t want her boyfriend to kill the cricket had let BetteBoop eat it to death. I was proud of her even. Yup, and the boy who had tried everything to murder the little chirper was now upset that I had had the black heart to let Bette commit such an act. I know what you’re thinking. J and I are the perfect pair full of contradictions.


Add a comment February 7, 2009


It’s official. I am bored to tears. I had my first interview on Monday and, really, I forgot how exhausting interviews can be at times, let alone how exhausting driving in L.A. can be at times. Seriously, I went from around December 2oth, 2008- February 3rd, 2009 without filling my gas tank. That’s what walking everywhere, and having no where to go will get ya. At least I’ve saved money on gas.

The interview went well, and a day later a former boss told me that she may have a production gig for me soon. See, there are things in the works… maybe. All I want is to work and get out of my dreary apartment. My friend Bri suggested I paint a wall in my place, but I can’t fathom spending money I don’t have on that right now when I need to eat. Sure, J has been great and always pays when we go out to dinner, and gives me cash for groceries, but still. A few days ago I was counting the one dollar bills in my wallet, (there were about 3) and I held up one of the dollar bills and just stared at it for five minutes. I felt the need to share that with you guys. Yes, I’m broke, desperately need a job, and am GOING CRAZY.

At the present time it’s almost midnight, J is sleeping soundly in the next room, and I am watching a show on Animal Planet called “Cat People.” These people are even more nuts than they sound. Think the movie “Best in Show” times one million with cats in place of dogs. My biggest fear is becoming one of these folks. Oh, and there was something I did last weekend that I’ll fill all my millions of readers in on in my next post. This “thing” that I did even further illustrates my loony cat lady antics.  I know, the intrigue!

Add a comment February 6, 2009

I Really Want a Basset Hound. Now.

Someday, someday. I’m constantly telling myself that, yes, I will have a big, droopy-eyed, long-eared, 1 part chubby & three millions times sweet badass basset hound someday. I can’t help it! I grew up with these adorable thangs. Seeing Sadie, (Aka, Sadiepants) my parents’ aging basset, a few times a year is.just.not.enough! I want my own basset to shower with love and to spoil rotten. It would have to be a girl. I would love to adopt her, (as I did with kitty Bette Boop) and I would love to take her for walks, pet her & talk to her in my doggy voice, and I would love for her name to be Mona. She’d also be BFF’s with Bette Boop.


I’ll pour my heart out more tomorrow about this subject. Oh, and because I’m in the mood to speak in French (en francais)…. AU REVOIR!


3 comments April 30, 2008

Singled Out

No, I’m not talking about the ‘ole back in the day MTV reality show. I’m talking about today, on stage, at work, in the crafts service area. On most days, my office orders lunch out with the writers. However, on certain days, my boss instructs the production team to go down to the stage & eat the crafts service lunch.

Now I’ve worked on numerous shows & every show has their own drill. Most shows I’ve been on in the past are used to the concept of sometimes production being able to eat on the stage, and, as such, the crafts service person is supposed to order more lunch for the days when production will be eating on stage. It’s all about the word inclusion. Try saying it to yourself a few times before you go to sleep tonight, Crafty on My Show. Oh, yeah, and did I not mention that said crafty has worked on another show that I worked on in the past (canceled, of course) and even the WRITERS ate on stage?!?!? He still hasn’t learned this pretty friggin’ 3rd grade level concept. Ahem!

So today I had to go down to stage after the production lot meeting. Side note: I used to kinda loathe these meetings, but now I heart them thanks to my winning streak at the trivia that starts off every meeting. But I digress… Once I’m done doing my thing on stage, (that “thing” being giving the stage PA vouchers for tomorrow) I saunter over to the crafts service area to check out the crappy food I’ve been ordered to eat on the stage today. Shall we pause this clip for a second? WHEN…

Camera dude that I don’t even know the name of begins dissing me. “You guys from production and the writers office always take all of our food on stage,” WAH WAH WAH! “You guys have to stop taking all of our food!” WAH WAH WAH. He says this very loudly, in front of a group of people. All eyes turn to me, Fatty Korlina (or at least that IS how it made me feel at the time). I turn bright red, beyond embarrassed. If Ramona had been in my shoes during this awkward “scene” she would have laughed at everyone and demanded, “Got a problem?!?!?” Korlina stutters, “Well, I…I…I… never eat on stage and was told to do so today.”

Crafty got all “Ohhh, do you have a sunburn, Honey?” I reply, “No, you guys have just really embarrassed me. I haven’t even taken any food.” Then crafty mock-yells at camera dude for making me feel bad. He demands that I take the food since everyone else has eaten. I feel like spitting out the words, “Fuck you for not sticking up for me! Fuck you for making me feel 100 times more awkward now! Fuck you for not remembering the million and one times I went out of my way for something for you on this show, and now you’re helping to make me feel like shit! Fuck you for acting like I should only be able to eat once everyone else has. Fuck you for being just another person who uses me as the easy target that I am!” Instead, I grabbed tongs, placed 2 watermelons in a paper bowl, and got outta there.

I immediately tossed the lousy watermelons into a trash barrell outside of stage.

For reasons I cannot fully articulate, this whole incident made me feel (at the time) more lousy than I know I should have let it make me feel. I pass a writer going down the hall on my way back to my office. He says hi in a genuinely nice way. I say my hellos as well. Afterwards, I want to cry. I have to go into my boss’s empty office to get a hold of myself, to stop the nascent onflow of tears.

Luckily, I snap out of my craziness pretty fast. I just needed a moment. I know that. I know I can pick up from where I left off in my day if only I take a few deep breaths and find a space where I can temporarily be alone in my thoughts. I only wish, at times (too many times in my life) that the awkwardness that’s a part of me would go away and never return. If it simply can’t & I’m stuck with it the way one is stuck with their freckles, then I wish I could get a grip. Once again, I wish I could handle situations like Ramona, only with more class.

Add a comment April 21, 2008


You guys won’t believe what happened this morning! Omigawd, I saw my future in this town flash before my eyes. I blame it on the fact that I overslept this morning and, thus, couldn’t get Starbucks on my way into work. Okay, FINE, I’ll blame it on my own craziness.

Shall we cut to my “incident” this morning? Good! Well, it all began as innocently as any crisis begins. Brian, the showrunner’s assistant, waltzed into my office (yes, he waltzes) with none other than little Leo the cocker spaniel. Leo doesn’t only happen to be cute, but he also happens to be the showrunner’s dog. I enthusiastically told Brian that I’d watch him like a hawk during the table read, since I’d be bound to my desk. Hello, Korlina loves dogs!

All was going swimmingly until the phone calls poured in. A guest actress who plays a fortysomething in the script this week (we later learned that she is 75 in real life, which explains like, a lot) was MIA. Everyone was in a state of panic. The casting associate, the 2nd AD, the stage PA… basically everyone and their mother who works on this show was up in arms. One of our PAs was out in the golf cart, aimlessly searching for this woman (sans cell phone, ahem) and, according to the lot’s security records, this guest actress had arrived through the gate (so she was here, somewhere).

 Nevertheless, they couldn’t start the table read without this woman. “KORLINA, DO SOMETHING!” an unnamed person spit into the phone. Desperate for a [crappy] solution, I sent another PA on foot (there were no spare golf carts) to find the woman. Finally, PA on foot found her. Yeah, she’s senile and, yeah she got herself lost on the lot as she spaced out, reminiscing about “the good ‘ole Fox studio days,” and about how “so much had changed!” That also explained why D, the PA who found her, was scratching his head all confused-like when he returned to the office and, exclaimed, “That lady was nuts!”

Somewhere between a call from the casting associate (he’s my favorite… NOT) & a call from the 2nd AD, little shy Leo who had been so docile, flew from my office. My grasp on his leash must have loosened with all the “missing actress! omigod!” stress. Next thing I knew, Leo was out of sight. Everyone in the office was freaking out, which meant I.was.REALLY.freaking out!

I threw open the front door to our building, scanning in every which direction for Leo and, NOTHING! A wardrobe girl, who had witnessed the whole thing, declared matter-of-factly, “He got outside. He’s lost.” Thoughts of being fired, thoughts of being blacklisted from this lot, and thoughts of being sued whirled through my head. Additionally, thoughts of valuum.

Luckily, I was snapped back into reality when K, another PA, ran towards me & calmly informed me that Janet from accounting had found Leo at the front door. Thanks, Wardrobe Girl, for dramatically declaring that Leo was out on the loose and, in essence, being consumed by mountain lions.

Of course, I was relieved when I saw Leo in Janet’s arms. She was all squeals and “Leo, you’re such a troublemaker!” Although I was relieved, I wanted to shout, “Leo, you’re an asshole,” but somehow, I found the strength to keep it to myself.

At 11:30 am I had my daily production meeting. The best way to describe these meetings is to say it’s kind of like a gathering of the Village People sans “YMCA.” You have your fire safety officer, you have your security guards, you have the electric guy, you have the woman from the grip department who swears by all that is L.L. Bean, you have your air conditioning dude, you have your medic, and then you have all the people who represent their shows on the lot. In other words, everyone looks the part, and fortunate me gets to attend these meetings daily & represent our show. We all go around in a circle, after a trivia game, (I’m serious) and tell each other what our show’s plans are for the following day. Yeah, it’s fun.

On a usual day, I find these meetings rather pointless and boring. I get a slight kick out of the meetings if and when I win at the trivia game (which has been a rare occurrence as of late). The prize today wasn’t that great anyway since it was a mini Sports Illustrated calendar. However, the security guy who won it loved it! Fine, I’ll press the “off” button on this tangent right now and get to my point. Today, TODAY, I LOVED the meeting. I had this crazy person look on my face the whole time. You know, crazy smile, and eyes kinda like Tom Cruise (k, not THAT crazy). I participated in all the American Idol chit chat and recap. I laughed at every one of L.L. Bean Grip Girl’s lame jokes. Why?? Because I wasn’t gonna be banned from the lot! I wasn’t gonna be fired! Leo was safe! I had seen darkness (& Mountain Lions) and now I saw light! Thus, most outstanding lot production meeting… EVER!

I later told my boss about what had happended with Leo, mainly out of fear that word would eventually get to her about the damn dog anyway. Her eyes grew wide like saucers, and her skin turned a ghostly color. “Korlina, if anything had happened to that dog, you would have had to change your name & flee this town,” she whispered, about to lose her lunch over my story. 

Folks, welcome to my world. Welcome to Hollywood. Hey, but I’ll look on the bright side. At least tonight is Girls’ Poker Night where I will be getting very drunk in an attempt to fade out the memory of the day I almost lost my job & almost had to leave town (on a submarine).

1 comment April 2, 2008

So done with this day!

Moments ago, I stood in the writers food kitchen & wolfed down chocolate covered orange thingys from Trader Joes. I spaced out for what may have turned into 5 whole minutes, just stuffing my face, not a care in the world and, for once not counting the number of chocolate diet destroyers I was consuming. That was until a horde of writers swarmed past me, and a few shot me questionable glances. Yup, just the weird girl from the production office who typically stays out of our way, (which we love!) but today she must have lost it. Did you see what she was eating? Gross! Only we writers are allowed to eat that way!

I’m not knocking the writers per se. In fact, one writer (my favorite one! he actually acknowledges us production people! i know! i’m blown away too!) is treating my office to Coffee Bean today. Anyway, the only person I’m knocking here is myself. Here’s the girl, here’s the Korlina, who last week was all “!” who finds herself scarfing down chocolate rather shamelessly. Ugh, so out of character! I’m usually overly aware of my surroundings & who or what routinely lurks around the corner. For whatever reason, today I wasn’t myself. Today I forgot my cardinal rule of not being a pig openly, ever. 

Last night I wasn’t myself either. Nobody likes laundry, but I almost had a panic attack over it. There was just so much! Oh, and the pudgy girl in my apartment bldg, the one who no one cares much for because of her lousy “hate the world” attitude, was hogging one of the washers. If J hadn’t been around to calm me down, I would have been SO done. If anyone had witnessed the way I was on the verge of meltdown, they would have thought I had just been diagnosed with some rare disease. Nope, just laundry folks! Come back next week and I’ll probably be in panic mode over not having enough butter in the fridge to use for mac and cheese!

My stress must stem from some other unknown source. Perhaps I’m repressing what’s really bothering me. Oh, that’s right, the finances. Yeah, perhaps it’s the finances. Perhaps it’s because I’ll be working later than usual this week, which means no time for the gym. I swear I was getting back on track too!

I better go. Some Staples supplies just came in (for realz) and I must must must deliver them to the proper persons in this office. Did I mention some of my tasks at this job drive my crazy? I can’t wait to be snuggled in bed tonight, dreaming of Aruba. Dreaming of not having to pass out Staples supplies. In the meantime, I’ll continue being so done with this day and, I’ll savor the Coffee Bean that just arrived (as I pass out supplies).

3 comments March 31, 2008

One of those days.

Friday, oh Friday. I should be all smiles as I type at my desk. I should be anticipating the weekend, only hours away. Instead, I sip coffee (it’s delicious, whoever made it in my office) & fight the urge to tear up because crying at work, well, just sucks.

Moments ago, I stumbled upon a basset hound blog, thanks to good ‘ole Google! Immediately, I added this cute blog to my blogroll. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but I ADORE basset hounds. I grew up with them & became a fast basset lover. Who really can resist their long droopy faces, the ears that they trip over repeatedly, or the way in which they love EVERYONE they come across? (warning: don’t invest in a cute basset pup with the thought in the back of your minds that it will grow to be one hardcore watch dog.

When the first family basset, Millie, died, everyone (especially my mom) was devestated. I was a junior in high school. I recall being obsessed with the Sarah Brightman CD, “Time to Say Goodbye,” at the time. Whenever I would play a track my eyes would swell and, of course, I’d remember Millie. I can honestly say, after encountering countless dogs during my lifetime, that she was the sweetest thing in the world. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. My mom used to say that Millie was a “hippy basset” because all she wanted to do was love and be pet. We had to put her down because she was suffering from cancerous mass cell tumors. She suddenly wasn’t interested in food. This was a HUGE red flag ’cause bassets (especially pleasantly plump Millie) heart food! Running out of ideas, I set a single green bean in front of Millie one evening after supper. I was hoping she’d eat it and that the green bean would miraculously cure her because it was a veggie. I was either extremely stupid or extremely delusional. Perhaps both.

 ‘Lil Sis, since she’s the brave one, carried Millie to the car on the day we’d all have to say farewell for good. The next basset was Sadie (otherwise known as SadiePants & still going strong at 9 years old). She is nothing like Millie. As a matter of fact, she’s kind of evil. Thankfully, we all love her anyway (she’s lucky she’s so darn cutesy cute).

So anyway, when I discovered Basset Blog and, found a story about losing a basset hound, (a story I can relate to) I wanted to crawl under my desk and sob. What’s wrong with me? I’m not even PMSing!

Maybe THIS is my true, deep rooted crazy Korlina problem that makes me depressed on this Friday at work… 

On the way out the door this morning, I lamented to J that I didn’t feel great about myself (my body and, thus, myself to an extent). I’ve probably gained about 10 lbs from the weight I was at last year. I know I can get a handle over it if I just work out more, but I dunno… it has just been so damn hard lately. Oh, and the days where I try to limit my calorie intake, I feel lethargic, mopey, irritable, and mad at the universe. I swear, I don’t know which is unhealthier, being a bit overweight now or being insanely stressed to the bone. I was 10 friggin sexy pounds lighter when I was a stressed out wacko. I was too busy to think about food. I know, shocking!

J, being J, told me that I still look great and, that yes, I will get back on track. The past weekend trip to Vegas where I ate myself silly probably didn’t help in my current state of “Oh, whoa is me, I’m fat” this week.

Being a girl and having body image issues is no fun. I’m not always like this. I’ve been confident in my body plenty of times during my life. I’m just going through a phase. I suddenly really care. I care the moment my jeans start not fitting and, the moment when doing cardio at the gym feels hellish.

Once the weight commences to drop, my ego will get the boost it desperately desires. In the meantime, I’ll ignore (yeahhhh right) the guy in my office eating the chocolate cookie ice cream sandwich at the moment.

4 comments March 28, 2008






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