Posts filed under: ‘J‘
We celebrated J’s birthday this past weekend. He wanted to spend the day in Oxnard, and then have dinner later that night in Studio City. I had worked roughly 70 hours last week, but I mustered up all the energy I could for J’s big day.
At around 1pm, after walking by the pier and doing some trinket and hat shopping, we found ourselves seated at the Mexican restaurant we love that overlooks the harbor. As I sipped the remainder of my margarita towards the end of the meal, J motioned for me to come around to his side of the booth. He scooted over, and pointed towards the harbor pier. “Look, a seal!” he exclaimed. For about five minutes, I saw nothing. I grew impatient as the waiter handed me the bill. “Wait, look, it’s got its head popped out!” This time, I saw the harbor seal/sea otter. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I had never in my life seen a seal outside of an aquarium.
A few moments later, J and I were on the dock, thanks to my insistence of getting a closer look at the big sea creatures. Every time a seal (there ended up being two!) popped its head out of the water I’d squeal with delight. I kept lamenting to J that I wish it would pop all of itself out of the water, but J shook his head and laughed at me, insisting that that would never happen. “I think you’re having more fun on my birthday than even I am!” He had a point. J had seen these Oxnard seals before, but it was a first for me. Suddenly I was five, completely in awe of the glorious sea. Seriously, its moments like these that keep me sane & young.
Add a comment March 23, 2009
I think Bette (pictured right) & Sammy (on left) will be spending much more time on the window sill for the next eight weeks starting on Tuesday. Why, you ask? BECAUSE I FINALLY HAVE A JOB. It’s a production gig on a TV pilot. It’s not as ideal as a long term job with benefits, but it’s work/$. The best news of all is that I’ll be working with my favorite boss ever, Karen. I found out today, officially, but J and I already celebrated last night with martinis. One martini and I was DRUNK. That’s what a low tolerance after hardly drinking for a few months will get ya, but I loved it! Cheers! Oh, and that’s J’s hairy arm in the pic above, not mine :).
1 comment February 12, 2009
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
After about a zillion fights last week, J and I managed to have a fantastic weekend. I don’t want to dwell on the past, mentioning all the details of last week’s fights, so instead I’ll focus on the good. Oh, and I have a hunch that there will be more good than bad from now on.
On Friday night, J surprised me with dinner at this fancy Italian restaurant down the street. Keeping with our New Year’s walking resolution, we peacefully strolled down the street to the restaurant, hand in hand. When we got there, J immediately ordered a bottle of my favorite French cabernet, and we munched on dinner rolls. We, at once, apologized to one another for all the fights and impatience of the past week, vowing to change some of our unwanted behaviors (God, I’m sounding like the Dog Whisperer!). When we got back to the apartment, full from all the delicious foods that we had just consumed, we watched The Soup, and went to bed in peace. Ahh, the first night in a while not going to bed angry.
Saturday morning was a lazy one. It was reminiscent of the kinds of Saturday mornings we had experienced in our first months of dating. We vegged out on the couch, there was no “nagging” on my part, and J listened to me easily, wanting to hear about all the jobs I had applied for during the week. Later in the day, we played racquetball. By the time the game was over, we were both on the floor, consumed by laughter. Leave it to us to finally being able to laugh again only after a competitive game where we’re both yelling at each other the whole time & wacking each other with the ball. Ha!
Sadly, we got a call from J’s dad around 3pm. J’s childhood pet, a kind-hearted German Shepherd, Duke, had died overnight. J was all chocked up. Although J had known that Duke’s time was running out, (he was eleven) it was still difficult. J and I both agreed that it was good that we had taken him for a walk the last time we saw him. We knew that it wouldn’t be the same anymore when we visited his parents again. Duke wouldn’t be the first one to greet us when we pulled into the driveway. You could tell that Duke always had a smile on his face once he saw J round the corner.
Once Sunday rolled around, we decided to check out the Farmer’s Market in Studio City, right smack dab down the street. Again, we walked. On the way to the market, I tricked J into coming into an antique shop with me, knowing perfectly well that there was a kitten adoption happening at that very moment inside the store. J threw me one of his annoyed looks once he saw what was going on. In a matter of seconds, I was holding a fifteen week old white kitten. He had eyes like blueberries. He squirmed quite a bit in my lap. I glanced up at J. His eyes said it all, “No more cats!” A volunteer lady kept asking me how serious I was about adopting a kitten, but I tried to stay vague, for my sake and J’s. If J hadn’t been with me, I would have whisked that kitten away, back to the apartment to meet Bette and Sammy. J, however, was not having it. He informed the volunteer that he was allergic to cats, and that we already had two as it was. The lady stopped pressing, and I reluctantly handed her back the kitten. Even though he couldn’t come home with us, I was grateful to have held him and smelled his irresistable kitten scent.
At the Farmer’s Market, J purchased the most yummy trail mix, and I bought the most succulent blood oranges. I also bought some exotic lemons for cooking & to flavor my teas and water. J also decided to stop in at the nearby sports store. He decided that we should start playing tennis, even though we both hadn’t played for years. After all, he contended, we had tennis courts just down the street from our apartment, why not take advantage? J bought me a pink racquet, and I decided that this was the perfect Sunday.
The moral of this story is that sometimes all it takes is a weekend to make amends with the one you love, with or without a kitten.
Add a comment January 26, 2009
OMG I cannot deal with my allergies today. I’ve been sniffling all day, blowing my nose to no avail, and not even “Clear Eyes” can get rid of the redness in my eyes. As a matter of fact, my eyes hurt. I just want to shut them for the rest of the day. A Claritin wouldn’t hurt right now. Damn, I knew I forgot to do something this morning. Now I’m itchy-eyed, and stuck at work for the rest of the day with no relief. Allergy season, I curse you!
I love… LOVE my new job. Everyone here is super nice & laid back, (I think I’ve mentioned this before). Today I went out to lunch with a bunch of my new co-workers. Now, mind you, this wasn’t the first lunch outing at my new job, but I’m still new here and, because of this, I tend to be a little less chatty than I normally am when I’m, for instance, with my girlfriends. I think Bri is struggling with this fact because she’s very familiar with Chatty Cathy friend Korlina, and does not much understand the ways of work Korlina.
Before she and I headed out with the group for lunch, she made a comment that was something along the lines of, “don’t be so quiet like last time!” She means well, I swear! Actually, I’m SO glad she’s here at work guiding me. I know that she is only looking out for me, and wants me to fit in & come out of my shell.
Once everyone was seated at our lunch table, munching away on our delicious pizzas, I thought about all the awesome conversation I would initiate throughout this gathering. I’d talk about the recent movies I’ve seen, tell everyone that I loooove fro yo, (the fro yo joint across the street was giving me this inspiration) ask engaging questions about current work projects, and be the life of the lunch! I must have zoned out in thinking about all the wonderful things I would talk about because, before I knew it, there were multiple convos flying across the table. I had to jump in… fast!
Somehow, between all the various chit chat, I was able to get in that I looove fro you (I think that was one of the first things I brought to everyone’s attention when someone else made a comment about the fro yo across the street). I also brought up a funny thing that was shown on The Soup last Friday. This funny thing was a cat eating spaghetti. Oh, and I shared my two cents on the latest Batman movie.
On the drive back to the office, I was satisfied with myself. Yay! I finally opened up to some of the people in my office! I am awesome! Wait… what was that? Oh, that’s what I thought she said. While making a left hand turn, Bri sighed and said that I hardly talked at lunch. Somehow, I had failed again!
Thankfully, there’s only an hour or so left of work today. I say this not because I’m at all unhappy, but because my boss is on vacation, (for 2 wks) and it’s been painfully slow. I’m not too fond of days that drag on and on and on and on. You get my point.
The allergies are also making me quite lethargic, but I think that it would be nice to make dinner for J tonight. He’s been completely stressed out of his mind about work lately & it breaks my heart every time I see that sad look on his face when I get home, and he tells me about his day. Hmmm… I wonder what I should make for him?
1 comment August 20, 2008
At first when my boyfriend, J, announced to me that we should quit drinking so much, I was shocked and dismayed. “Why now?” I thought. We’ve been dating for over a year and, frankly, during our time together thus far, there’s been a lot of drinking involved. A few glasses of wine at night watching TV, more than a few margaritas at our favorite Mexican haunts, and countless parties, or just nights out that we made into a big party, often resulted in too many drinks to count. With that, there were too many arguments and hangovers the next day. “I didn’t say that!,” and “I don’t remember throwing my cell phone into traffic on the street!” Also, stops to In ‘N Out Burger and Del Taco were getting frequent and, consequently, [my] hips were getting fatter.
The first week of not drinking was the hardest. Let me clarify, there was a little drinking. What was even harder was admitting to both J and to myself that, yeah, we needed to cut back. I’ve listened to Dr. Oz, I know the facts. Cutting back on alcohol so that we’d be at a “moderate” level, would add years to our life. Might as well start now before it gets harder.
On Monday, J and I decided to go cold turkey. I picked a great week to quit drinking because it also happened to be my first week at my new job. By Monday night, stressed to death by all the lingering first day nervous energy, I craved a vodka tonic, or at least a few Miller Chills. J, being so motivated to not cave in on Day I, triggered me to shut off those thoughts of alcohol bliss. My boyfriend is SUCH a good influence.
By Wednesday night, I didn’t have much of a desire to drink at all. However, my girlfriends were coming over that night for one of our “poker nights.” Being that it was Anne’s last week in L.A. (she’s moving to NYC) my friends urged me to at least have a few glasses of wine “BECAUSE IT’S ANNE’S LAST WEEK, KORLINA!” They had a point. I enjoyed my wine, and told myself, no more drinking for the rest of the week!
That was until Friday evening, officially Anne’s send off party at our very old stomping ground, St. Nick’s. Conveniently, I was DD anyway that night, forcing me to only be able to consume 2 beers. This experiment? Well, frankly, it sucked! I wanted to get a little out of control. I wanted to party like it was 1999 (well more like 2004-2005, when my girlfriends and I would literally drink from around 6pm-1:30am at St. Nick’s after work). Instead, I felt tired all night long. Yeah, it was the closing of the first week at my new job, but still! I felt bad I had no energy to party. The sad part is that I know I would have had more oomph if I had downed a few more drinks.
On Saturday, I have no excuse for what I did. J and I decided to go to Casa Vega (not one of our usual Mexican spots) for lunch. The food was excellent, btw. Anyway, I ordered one margartia (only one, I swear! and not a Cadillac!) I felt guilty about this later because I ordered one just because I wanted one. I didn’t need it, but it was a craving that I wanted to give into just the same. J didn’t shoot me a disappointed glance, or scold me for it. He probably was too busy basking in the glory of being the one with more will power.
I didn’t drink Sunday. I didn’t want to drink. My first week of [semi] not drinking was a success, in my eyes. J may have felt that he had to go cold turkey, but I chose to approach things differently. In comparison to the way I had been drinking weeks prior, it was a vast improvement. Last week I had only consumed a total of 7 drinks. Apparently this is the recommended limit of number of drinks that a woman should be drinking per wk in her twenties.
I was proud of my accomplishment, and proud of J’s as well. What’s even better, and something I had been fearing we’d be incapable of, is that we enjoyed our days and weekend just as much as we would have if we had consumed alcohol nonstop. In fact, cutting back on alcohol made the days and weekend even better. No more pointless arguments induced by too many Cadillac margaritas. No more hangovers followed by trips to fast food joints. What there was more of? There was more cuddling, more all-star racquetball sessions, and more clarity.
Last night J and I drank. Two beers each. J finally realized that he didn’t need to cut off alcohol completely (or maybe he did feel as though he had to that 1st week). Everyone is different about trying to cut back on something they know isn’t good for them. J and I are getting there. It just took over a year of us being together to figure that out. I’m sure there will still be drinks here and there, and a couple of rough nights every once in a while. All in all, I think the point is that we’re finally able to work on it… together.
Add a comment August 12, 2008
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!
1 comment May 30, 2008
The title of this post is rather fitting in describing last night. I had plans to meet up with a few of my girlfriends for a night of margaritas at a local joint, Mexicali. Mexicali isn’t the best restaurant in town for authentic Mexican food, but it’s gotta pretty chill scene, an array of pretty good 80’s music, pretty tasty fish tacos, and you don’t leave the place with your wallet screaming at you. Always a plus, always a pretty plus.
All the girls, myself included, started off with fairly standard, run of the mill margaritas. Shall we call them margs? I heart abbreviating, really. By the time I had finished downing my first marg, I was more than ready for my next. Yeah, hi, I’m Korlina and I finish my drinks really fast. Unfortunately, I’ve built up quite the tolerance as of late too.
Our server (don’t you love how PC I am?) came over to our table and, seeing my empty glass, asked if I’d like another. I hesitated for a sec, deciding whether or not I wanted to ask “Could I please have a ‘Skinny Girl Margarita?” but chose instead to ask for the drink in a way that states how it’s supposed to be made. I learned of this drink’s existence thanks to good ‘ole “The Real Housewives of NY.” Thanks Bethany! “Could I please have Silver Petron on the rocks with fresh lime juice, and a splash of Triple Sec?” See, I was trying to make things easier, I swear, BUT… I couldn’t have stumped Mexicali Server more.
“Umm, well, I dunno if the bartender could do that. Ummmmmmm, he can probably make it with sweet and sour mix though.” Umm, well, I was disappointed to hear this disturbing news, but I couldn’t think fast enough to argue with him (just as I couldn’t think fast enough to defend myself and my right to lunch yesterday to Badass Crafty).
“Ah, okay, that’s fine,” I retorted weakly. All my girlfriends were staring at me, visibly amused over this whole thing. “Is it just me, or was I asking for something very hard to understand?” Naturally, my friend Anne came up with the perfect response! “Korlina, of course he didn’t understand you. That’s why he’s a waitor at Mexicali!” Duh, I knew that. However, I still needed a friendly reminder from my girlfriend.
When the drink came back, I liked it. A little sweet, but fine. The sweet and sour mix didn’t make it a “skinny drink,” but what the hell? I didn’t care anymore. Who really cares if all their friends are dieting and debating how much of their food they should put in their mouths while you’re in the fast process of wolfing down your heaping portion of fish tacos? The nonskinny drink just added one more “who cares” to the evening.
We all left in happier spirits (merci beaucoup margs). I, for one, was exhausted at the god awful late hour of 9pm. As I got into my lil gold Corolla, I couldn’t wait to be relaxing on the couch with J, as he played online poker.
Once back at my apt, J told me he had a surprise for me. It took me a while to discover the surprise, but he had cleaned my shower! It had been a long time since I (well J, actually) cleaned it last, so to say it needed it would be an understatement. J, always a man of unexpected sweet jestures had done this while not feeling well! And in the midst of an online poker tournie! Have I told you how much he rocks & how much I loooove him?!?!?
We took a walk down to the liquor store. He wanted to have a glass of red wine before bed. I promised myself not to drink any of the bottle, no matter what he chose to purchase. I had had enough alcohol for one night. At the store, J grabbed his wine, and I grabbed some flaky British candy bar. I may have promised myself no more alcohol, but flaky British candy? Paaaaleeeeaaase! My will power’s not that strong… this week. Ask me next week though. I’ll probably be eating the candy bar and drinking wine I don’t need. I’m good like that.
3 comments April 22, 2008
J and I went to our favorite Mexican restaurant last night. It never gets old there & that’s why we love it. We ordered our standard Cadillac Margaritas, (seriously, they’re the bomb) picked at each others’ entrees, and kissed between sips of the Caddy’s. The waitress even gave us an extra martini glass of limes last night. I guess this is the new form of VIP status at said Mexican restaurant. I dunno, but we appreciated them just the same.
A few moments before the bill arrived, the same flower dude that saunters in every night, sauntered in, arms over-stuffed with bouquets of voluptuous flowers. He approached our table, as per normal, but this time J stopped flower dude in his tracks. He bought me the most beautiful bouquet, the prettiest of the bunch. I blushed profusely as I admired the perfect arrangement.
“I was planning this for the longest time. I wanted to catch you off guard,” J admitted. I gave him a big kiss. He was right- he had caught me off guard and, I loved it.
When we got back to the apartment, I pulled out a vase. I began the task of cutting off the ends. The flowers looked just as splendid in their new vase home as they had looked all wrapped up. Once I had placed the vase on the kitchen table, I clapped my hands in excitement. Yippee!
Cut to Bette Boop moments later, as I started to settle on the couch with J and catch up on TiVo. She rubbed up against the flowers, sniffed them, acted like she was on cat Ecstasy, and bit into a rose. I gasped, sprang to my feet, took the vase off the table, and scolded my evil cat. Guess I hadn’t been thinking back to the time when my old roommate received birthday flowers & all the cats had a field day (or feast) with the bouquet. She had to put her bouquet in a closet because certain flowers can be poisonous to cats. Damn these cats sometimes!
J made the executive decision to leave the flowers in his bathroom, with the door shut. Bette stared at us for the rest of the night, wondering where her flowers had disappeared.
For Valentine’s Day this year, J gave me a giant scratching pad for Bette Boop because she no longer had one after my roommate moved out with her 2 cats. It was an expensive present, but we both admit it was well worth it because Bette LOVES it. There are little plush balls attached to it via strings, so it gives Bette hours of playtime. In other words, Bette gets treated very well. J tells me all the time that she is spoiled & I always silently agree with him.
Dear Bette, I love you so, and you’re a very adorable cat, but why do you have to take my first flowers away from me??? Isn’t your extensive collection of toys enough? Isn’t your scratching pad better than my flowers? WHY, BETTE? WHHHHYYYYYY?
2 comments April 11, 2008
This is just awesome! It’s now official! At the end of June, I am flying to Aruba & meeting my family there for a week of heavenly & overdue vacation. Oh, and J is coming as well! He’s met my parents once before, but now he gets the privilege of meeting ‘Lil Sis. I have a feeling that they will hit it off for some bizarre reason. Why is that bizarre? Well, ‘Lil Sis and I have always had quite an… umm… tumultuous relationship. But yup. They’ll like each other!
As I sit and type at my desk, killing time & [trying to kill] my desire to snack, I giggle with anticipation about the trip, regardless of the fact that it’s months away. I try not to think about the “months away” part for I do rather prefer having something to look forward to (besides my birthday, also in the fun June month. presents are always welcomed!) that tops “The Hills” or “American Idol.”
Now my mission must entail getting fit and fab for the quickly approaching June journey. The clock’s clicking, Korlina! Okay, I know I have a penchant for talking in the 3rd person at times. I promise to [try to] monitor it, but note that often times it’s an involuntary reflex; a sneeze I cannot hold in.
One thing I have been “holding in” on my blog is elaboration on my “blushing disease.” I mentioned it many blogs back (specifically, in “The Skin I’m In”) and, yes, I know this post is entitled “Aruba! In June!” but thought I’d take the time to elaborate on it now on this fine Thusday that I wish could be a Friday.
Ever since I was a little girl, I had a
secret talent. I could blush at the drop of a dime! Noo, nooo, it wasn’t as simple as turning slightly pink when a teacher called on me in class. Noo, nooo, noooo, I didn’t (and I don’t) become Crimson Face only in the presence of crushes or folks who make me nervous. I unsuccessfully battle the blushes every day now, just as I battled them growing up. I will gladly give you an example of all the blushing I’ve done (that I can remember) this week. Here goes…
(INT. OFFICE. AFTERNOON- Korlina, at her desk, takes deep breath as she prepares to pour her soul out).
Monday: It’s morning. Naturally, there’s Starbucks. Naturally, the girl at the counter comments that she likes my shirt (what? it was a cute shirt!). Then, very naturally, I BLUSH before I can even say thanks. My blush grows deeper as I wait for my coffee at the far counter. Why can’t I get this under control? Why can’t I take a compliment without having to look like I’ve been out in the sun for 2 whole hours without sunscreen? Why? WHY?
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday: Whenever someone/anyone in my office building that I’m not too close with tries to engage in a conversation with me, I get so uncomfortable and blush. It’s not like I have crushes on these individuals, or that I crave their respect. I.just.don’t.get.it. This entire phenomenon forces me to be quite withdrawn at work because I’m so ashamed of my fire engine red face in these situations. One time I even went so far as to pretend to see something outside my office window, so that the person who was attempting a convo with me didn’t have to witness Big Red Korlina (damn, I hope that’s not kinky slang I don’t know about).
I saw an episode of “Grey’s Anatomy” once where a little girl had a medical condition that made her blush whenever anything set her off. Although it was sort of adorable the way she, like I light switch, would turn beat red whenever Dr. Alex Karev checked in on her, I also felt bad for the girl! Scratch that, I empathized with her! All she wanted was to be normal. She felt as though her blushing was getting in the way of her everyday life. Thus, she opted for surgery. I sometimes wonder if I have a similar or identical condition. I wonder if I need surgery (along with Acutane. weep.)
I also know that, despite the plethora of zits & the uncontrollable blushes, I’m a happy girl. I’m going to Aruba after all, the first time in 4 years I’ve been able to take a vacation! What’s there to bitch and moan about when you have that? Now I just need to get my ass to the gym!
1 comment March 27, 2008