Givin' it a go.

Wish me luck.

2011-07-25T13:08:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day...

I figured I'd start with something positive because when I go back and read my previous posts all I can think is, "Good God I whine a lot."

I don't think I ever did the brief summary of what life has been like back in sleepy little Charleston, SC since the beginning of the year. So here goes: New Year's came and went. Next thing I knew it was Valentine's Day. Right on the heels of VDay, came Easter...then mom's birthday, Mother's Day, Father's Day, mom and dad's anniversary, 4th of July and now my dad's birthday is right around the corner. In the midst of all this, I moved off the Isle of Palms and into a place near Daniel Island. That was the beginning of May. When I moved, I decided to redo my room. The picture you see is Orion the Hunter. I guess that's somewhat symbolic and represents my spot in life at the moment, although it hasn't brought me much luck in the bedroom so far.

You haven't missed anything big. My life is a series of early morning alarm clock rings...followed by stumbling around in the dark, cursing when I stub my toe, fumbling with the coffee maker, getting in and out of the shower, attempting to apply makeup and/or fix hair, walking the dogs and hitting the road by 4:30 a.m. Everyone thinks they'd like to have my job but the reality is far less glamorous than the fantasy. But there I go starting to whine again...

I did flex my creative muscles recently and decided to make a Youtube video in response to all of the marines asking celebrities to attend the Marine Corps Ball with them this year. I made a video of my own and it has kind of taken on a life of its own.

This is why I love what I do. Because I get to play with expensive cameras, recording equipment and just be me. What's interesting about this video, is that I've actually gotten several invitations to the ball. A bunch in Jacksonville, NC...a couple in D.C. and even one in Okinawa, Japan.

This past weekend I went to Wilmington (only for the second time since October) and spent time with my family. My brother was in Nicaragua so my parents and I stayed at his house. It was over the course of this weekend I realized my mom and I have the EXACT same nose. Only took me 30 years to see it.

Anyways, I've decided to start a new blog. This one will still be here but the "new blog" will be devoted almost entirely to a very specific cause. Curious? Check it out for yourself:

http://dateadj.blogspot.com/

Hopefully, those who read it will find it cute and funny...satirical but also somehow candid and honest. Wish me luck.

Hurry up.

2011-07-16T06:28:00.001-07:00

There's no way I could catch you up on the last 6 or 7 months in one post. It's simply not possible. But I'm still here and still feeling very much the same. Most days, everything's fine. I'm generally happy, pretty much content and very much optimistic about the future.

But then there are those days...like today...where I wake up feeling lost, sad, uncertain, worried and filled with self-doubt. I'm not sure where this anxiety laden antsy-ness comes from. It's like an untapped energy source I have no control over. It decides when and where it wants to rear it's ugly head. I don't know how else to describe it except to say that it makes me feel like I'm about to jump out of my own skin. I want to get away but don't know where to go. I want to be someone else but have no clue who that person is. I want to scream but I open my mouth and nothing comes out. The good news is, these moments of intense distress seem to pass pretty quickly and then I'm back to my normal self.

I'm also busy. Very busy. I've never worked so hard for so little in my entire life. I knew that coming back home was going to be an adjustment. I knew it I'd be working more and earning less but I had no idea I'd struggle as much as I have...to survive...financially.

I can also positively tell you that I'm getting closer and closer to feeling ready to settle...not settle for just anything (or the first thing that comes along) but settle down...should the right person come along. I see it happening to the people around me. My single friends are dropping like flies. And I'm happy for them...for the most part. I want what they have, but I also know that having it comes at a price. That price, is called sacrifice. In the past I wasn't willing to give up anything in my life to have a life with someone else. Now I see things a little differently. Maybe that has come with maturity or maybe it's just being more realistic about what it takes to "make it work." It's not that I don't think you can have it all. I'm sure you can. But I'm not sure I want (or need) to have it all. Sounds depressing, I know. What I mean is that as I get older my wants and needs have started to change. I'm willing to give up a little in one department of my life to have more in another. Does that make sense?

Now it's just a matter of sitting quietly, patiently and gratefully for the right thing to come along. I wish it would hurry up.

Where did she go...

2011-01-03T14:27:00.000-08:00

Where did she go? That little girl who thirsted for everything and wanted for nothing. Where did she run off to? Or did she abandon me long ago and I've been too wrapped up in everyday life to notice she's been gone for quite some time?

And if, in fact, she is gone where do I find her?

Should I try to lure her back with promises that she won't be neglected anymore? Or was she taken; preyed upon with malicious intent; stolen in the night while I slept (sans rest) in my bed.

If that doesn't work, maybe a missing persons poster.

LOST: Inner child who nourished my soul.
LAST SEEN: Can't remember.
If found, please call.
Reward offered on all legitimate leads.

To close out the year...

2010-12-31T07:04:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning and felt a mix of emotions. It's the end of one of the most tumultuous (not necessarily in a bad way) years of my entire life. Big changes. Bigger harsh realities. Biggest life lessons learned. I wouldn't trade any of it, but on some days I'm not quite sure how I survived it.

I know I need to thank my mom and dad for their consummate - although I'm sure it wasn't indubitable - support. I wouldn't have been able to tap into my inner prowess had it not been for knowing they'd stand behind me - even if everything went to hell in a handbasket. They took me in when I was an unemployed vagabond (literally) with no "plan B" and only softly strummed the guilt guitar when my tab really started adding up. I know I'll never, ever, ever be able to repay them monetarily or emotionally or verbally or otherwise for that which they have given me but I hope deep down they know that I adore them with all my heart. I'm forever grateful, indebted and in awe of their unwavering unconditional love.

Here are the rest of my wishes for the people (in no particular order) who matter most in the New Year:

AGS - My brother. Probably the most nonjudgmental person I've ever met, I don't know how you do it. Sometimes I can't even comprehend how it's possible for someone to remain so level-headed with all the madness that life brings. I don't think there's anything you couldn't handle or take on or accomplish...you're kind of like a superhero to me. Of all the people in the whole wide world, I feel like you get me and understand me the most (and like me despite it all). We don't talk every day (or every week) but you're always there - and I take great comfort in knowing that. I love you. May 2011 bring you what you deserve...nothing short of the absolute best.

SH (Y) - There are many miles between us now but we still talk like we see each other everyday. I'm so thankful I have you to call and text when things are either really good or really bad or somewhere in between. Whether it's a quick "Hi, how's your day going?" or "I really need to talk" you're my go-to confidant. I know 2010 was, at times, a rough year for you. I hope 2011 brings you more sunny days than gray skies...but should it not, you can stand under my umbrella =) I'm never more than a phone call away.

MBM - A baby is on the way and she'll be here soon! I can't believe we've been friends for 17 years. When did we get so old and grown up? Over the years we've kind of drifted in and out of each others peripherals (which tends to happen) but even as our lives have taken us in different directions, somehow we've managed to wind up closer now than we've been since middle school. The power of "the posse" is alive and well. I love that I've been able to grab your belly - as much as I'm sure you hate it - and spend time with the cutest peanut in the world - and experience Scarowinds - and be at your baby shower - and ring in the New Year with you tonight. My 2011 wish for you is (of course) to have a healthy, beautiful new baby to add to your already beautiful family. I also hope you experience as few sleepless nights in the coming months as little Sailor will allow and always remember that Aunt Megan is ready to teach your daughters how to drive - as soon as they turn 13.

GSM - You survived your first year of marriage in 2010. Well done. Then again, you snagged a good one. One of my favorite moments of this entire past year was driving you home from Blues, Brews and Barbecue. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my entire life (even if you don't remember all of the things you said). Loved our Christmas Eve talk at Target. It's now a tradition. You give so much of yourself to others, I hope that in 2011 you'll remember to take a little time out for yourself every once in a while. Don't worry, I'll remind you in case you forget. Stop. Slow down. Take a nap (I'll come take one with you).

HAAA - "The condor was a blockade runner, commanding the ship couldn't be more funner." I'm still holding out hope that someday we'll open our all-in-one doctor's office/pharmacy. We were really on to something when we came up with our 4th grade business plan for Fergusonville. Although, considering you're an engineer, who's relocating to Europe, and I'm a radio d.j. it doesn't look good for us. I could spend hours recounting my favorite memories with you: Shirley, Star Knopp, baby hamsters, TLC/Boyz II Men/MC Hammer, Mrs. Misenheimer, passing notes, we're not friends anymore, Vanessa Williams, Oogum Boogum, trampolines, fried bologna sandwiches...seriously, this could go on and on. My wish for you in 2011 is that you love your new life in Germany. I can't wait to come visit.

JMB - Your 2010 was full of ups and downs. Between your back surgery and car accident and job drama and breakup...you have an impenetrable optimism that is to be admired. I know you wonder why you've had to go through some of the things that have happened. I wish I had an answer (or explanation) that would make it all make sense. I'm going on the record, 2011 is going to be your year. Its got to be...no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Whether you wind up moving to Portland, going back to school, falling in love, or all (or none) of the above - I hope your 2011 roller coaster ride has more peaks than dips. Enjoy the ride while you're on it. Hold on tight when it gets bumpy and let go, throw your hands up and enjoy the view when you're on top.

TF - Good God do you have any idea how much I envy your ferocity? You attack everything in life boldly. You tell it like it is. You say what I need to hear, not what I want to hear. That trait alone is so hard to find in other people. And even when you're giving it to me straight, and let's be honest...the truth can be a tough pill to swallow...you do it with an articulation that remains unrivaled by anyone else in my life. My wish for you in 2011 is just to keep kicking ass and taking names. You're already so good at it that I can't imagine anything less for you. May you also continue to hone your craft and believe wholeheartedly in what you do and appreciate yourself for the Wonder Woman that you are.

JG - The Jew and the Catholic...the conservative and the liberal...we're about as opposite as two individuals can be. I always tell people you are the salt of the Earth. As I've said in the past, you're one of the few I would ever consider putting on a pedestal because I am confident that that's where you belong. You're so grounded, driven, full of big ideas and bigger dreams. You are firm in your faith and treat others with respect and compassion - even when you don't agree with them...and selfishly, I hope that 2011 brings you to Charleston so I can have you here...my concert buddy...and sushi companion...and all around inspiring presence.

TJ - One of the few people who knows exactly what I go through each and every day. There is no one else I can call when I have a professional question, problem, or issue I need to vent about. You get it. My wish for you in 2011 is, of course, continued success and stability (in a very unstable career). I hope you find what you're looking for in a partner, let go of that which is not worth your time - and never was - or perhaps, finally find the answers to the questions that have plagued you for many years. You deserve them. You need the truth, whatever it may be.

"Just" JG - Your mother. I'm glad you're here. You are neurotic and you drive me crazy...the pesky little brother I never had. But I know 2011 has big things in store for you. Who knows, maybe we'll finally get to collaborate. If not in the coming year, at some point. Do you think you could handle it? I would love to see you come into that $$$ and get those gigs and pursue some of the big dreams and side projects you have in the works (or simmering on the back burner).

DV - OPG forever and for always. I don't know how it's possible for someone to be as funny, smart, sensitive, kind and generous as you are. You're the triple threat of friends. Rock solid and as hard-to-come by as a bad Jack Handy quote. (There are so many good ones). I hope that now that I'm closer, we'll be able to spend more time together - which hasn't happened yet - but in 2011 my wish for you (and us) is to find a way to carve out a little piece, chunk, or section of our busy lives to devote to some one-on-one face (not Facebook) time.

HF - Girl, girl, girl. Sometimes I feel like we live the same life. I could write paragraphs about the unspoken bond you and I share and the inherent understanding that lies between us. But because it's so personal and deeply important to me, I'm going to keep this short and sweet. You are a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman (and mom) and you have so much to offer. You are a lioness, ready to roar. In 2011, I want to hear you ROAR. I know you can. Show the rest of the world what you're capable of.

RM - If I know you as well as I think I do, I know you probably won't read this...and if you do, you probably won't realize that this is about you. But it is. Sometimes I'm not sure whether you mean what you say...but I want you to have everything you say you want in the coming year.

RH - Way to go jackass. Thank goodness I have unlimited texting. I'm not sure why some people come into our lives when they do...or why their presence makes such an impact. But in my life, yours has. Thanks for that. Sometimes we get to meet those rare people who, only after a couple of months, we feel like we've known forever. I love that you color outside the lines. I love that you look at things a little differently. And I'm going to miss you when you're gone. I hope that your transition in 2011 is a smooth one. I hope you make the best of what lies ahead of you and always remember that I rely on my "goodmorning sunshine" - it helps get me through the day.

To the rest of you reading this right now, I sincerely apologize if I forgot you specifically. I truly do have the most amazing friends, family, co-workers, acquaintances, etc. If I were to try to tell each and every one of you how important you are to me, I'd spend the next few years of my life taking inventory and trying to express those feeling adequately...even then, I probably couldn't do you all justice.

Here's to everyone in 2011.

May green be the grass you walk on,
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.
May you always have work for your hands to do.
May your pockets hold always a coin or two.
May the sun shine bright on your windowpane.
May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near you.
And may love fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.

Rapture.

2010-12-19T10:14:00.001-08:00

People don't use the word "rapture" enough. It's such a great word and I never hear it used. Why is that? I'm bringing rapture back.

Christmas is officially less than a week away.

In less than two weeks (when 2011 arrives) I'll be starting the last few months of my 20's, as the dirty 30's creep closer and closer. I think there's something that happens to every woman - and perhaps person - when "milestone" birthdays start to loom. You start taking stock, comparing and contrasting your life against those of the people around you...you question, you second-guess, you panic, you simplify (or over-complicate) depending on what you're trying to accomplish in a mad-dash to beat the buzzer, you reflect, you worry, you plan (perhaps the most pointless of your endeavors) and you prepare for when the plans go in the exact opposite direction of where you wanted them to go. Whatever the inherent drive is, from wherever it derives, and whatever fuels it is starting to consume my every thought. I find myself in a constant state of madness, where random (and insane) ideas dart through my mind like a big game of pinball. They go ding, ding, ding...bump, di-di-di-ding...and I'm hitting the flappers as fast as I can to keep the ideas in motion so they don't fall through the black hole, the abysmal and abominable "game over" hole.

This, of course, can be quite overwhelming at times.

Lately I've been plagued with ideas about whether or not children are in the cards for me. I like kids but I don't feel that burning desire to be a mother...and if you're going to have them, shouldn't you really, really, really want them? Children change everything. I hate change. Am I too selfish to have kids? What happens if the window of opportunity closes and I regret (later) that I never had them? What if I do have them and then regret that I did it? There's no going back...it's a pretty permanent situation.

I don't blame you for thinking I'm crazy. I am crazy.

But sometimes I wake up on Sunday mornings and my mind is extra-full of neurotic notions and try as I may, there's no "turning it off."

Maybe I'll try to distract myself with a little Christmas shopping.

I just need a compass and a willing accomplice.

2010-12-12T13:33:00.000-08:00

I'm ready to move again because I'm a runner...not in the literal sense...but when things don't go my way, I want to pack up and roll out. I just need a compass and a willing accomplice.

I've only been in SC for about 9 weeks but in that time I've managed to find myself in a sticky situation. It involves a boy, of course. Long story short, I invested, let my guard down, put myself out there (for the first time in a long time) and then got burned. He took me to his work Christmas party last night and then spent the entire time texting some other chick. WTF? Well of course once we left the party I let him know that I thought it was rude and the argument escalated and the next thing I know we're going our separate ways.

It's for the best. I know that.

Next.

I've had some exciting things happen recently too. I won the 11th annual celebrity chili cook-off to benefit the Charleston Animal Society. I didn't realize how big of a deal (and accomplishment) this was until I returned to work on Monday and people actually applauded for me. It was like a scene from The Office. Here's the video:

I also scored an endorsement from a clothing store in the area. Instead of paying me a talent fee, they're giving me free clothes. I went over there this past Tuesday and had my very own "Pretty Woman" experience. I spent five and a half hours trying on dresses, fur coats, shoes, jeans, etc. I had $1800 to spend and when it was all over I was somewhere in the $1550 range. I loaded bags upon bags into my car and came home happy as a clam. The Tory Burch boots are my favorite.

Christmas is officially less than two weeks away, which is blowing my mind. I'm ready to start a new year and try to find some sense of balance and contentedness in my life. I'm hoping it will magically appear in 2011.

Aston Martin Music

2010-11-16T16:38:00.000-08:00

It's a cloudy and windy Tuesday night on the Isle of Palms. I'm sitting in my living room trying to decide what to have for dinner.

Just thought you should know.

Random thoughts for the night:

I can't believe Thanksgiving is next week.

I'm broke.

I want a new tattoo.

I need to start working out again, for real.

I would like to win the lottery.

Patti Stanger from Millionaire Matchmaker makes my skin crawl.

There's nothing on TV tonight.

I wish I had a jacuzzi tub in my bathroom. If I did I'd be in it right now.

I need to get my South Carolina driver's license.

Did I mention that I'm broke?

I don't understand the Glee obsession.

Watching the Biggest Loser should motivate me...instead I want to dip Doritos in frosting and stuff my face when it's on. Why is that?

My fingers are sore because I started biting my nails again.

I think I have PMS.

Is it bedtime yet?

I like the song Aston Martin Music.

Boo.

2010-10-31T13:19:00.001-07:00

So today is Halloween. I've been in Charleston almost a month. Am I still happy here? Kinda. Now before you roll your eyes and think "here we go again" let me try to explain this the best way I know how. Do I like my new job? Yes. Do I like living at the beach? Yes. Do I like being close to my friends and family? Yes. Then, what's the problem? (Sigh).

I don't know.

I don't know why it's never enough. I don't know why I don't know how to be content with anything in my life. I don't know why I'm always looking for something bigger, better, more exciting and/or more challenging.

I always want more.

I miss the life I had in CA (not the job) and I miss the paycheck I used to bring home. I miss the freedom and independence I had and I miss the promise of endless opportunities.

I have to keep reminding myself that there is a reason I'm here right now. If I'm going to make a life here and figure out how all of this fits into the big picture, then I have to let go of the coulda, shoulda, woulda's. I know that.

Maybe what they say is true. The grass is always greener...or at least looks greener from a distance. When it's really just an illusion. The grass is all the same. But in the meantime, here I am on a Sunday night, sitting in my living room on Isle of Palms and I feel sad.

Happy Halloween. Boo.

Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes

2010-10-16T06:17:00.000-07:00

Let me catch you up to speed because a lot has happened since I last checked in. Here's a blog I started almost a month ago...which helps to explain where I was and what I was thinking at the time:

Monday Sept. 20, 2010

Well, I made it home. I left my little house near downtown Sacramento on Sunday the 5^th. I drove to Salt Lake City and spent the night with TJ. We got up Monday morning (Labor Day) and had breakfast at a place in the mountains. In the early afternoon I picked my friend Rebecca up at the SLC airport and we drove the rest of the way across the United States until I landed in Lake Wylie, SC on Thursday afternoon, the 9^th.

So I’ve been here for 11 days. Suffice to say, it feels like a hurricane blew through my life and left a path of destruction in its wake. I’m searching through the ruins and remains, hoping to stumble across something that I can build off of. I can’t lie, I feel a little lost…well, actually…I feel a lot lost. I know I wasn’t happy in Sacramento. I know I wasn’t happy at my old station. But I’m not convinced this is the right place for me either.

All of my “stuff” is in my mom and dad’s basement. I stayed at their house for a week and a half and we all almost killed each other…things are still tense. They feel like I don’t appreciate everything they’ve done for me. They feel this way because for the past few days I’ve been kinda down…second guessing myself and my decision…feeling scared and overwhelmed…uncertain. I guess I haven’t been as happy and over-the-top as they think I should be. But see, I’m an internalizer. I think a lot and I hold it all in…I’m still processing everything that’s happened and I find myself becoming withdrawn because it’s just easier to keep myself quiet in times of chaos. That, and if people really knew the thoughts that ran through my head they’d think I was crazy…I find it better only to share those thoughts with people like myself who understand from whence they originate.

Yeah, so my parents and I are in the midst of one big misunderstanding right now. I don’t know how to make it better. Actually, I do know what I should be doing and saying to express my appreciation but acting has never been my forte. Could I fake it? Probably. It’s just not my style.

Anyways,

That's as far as I got. Things with my parents got a little tense towards the end. Luckily I was only home for a couple of weeks before an opportunity came along.

I was pretty convinced, upon moving home, that maybe radio just wasn't for me anymore. I didn't feel the passion for it that I had once been love-drunk with. But sometimes, just sometimes, you accidentally realize that it never left...it was there all along...it was just lying dormant...silent and undetectable...waiting for the right time to come back bigger, better and stronger than ever.

And that's what happened to me.

I got a call from someone I used to work for 6 years ago in Raleigh, NC. She told me about a radio station in Charleston, SC that was looking for some "fresh blood." This station needed someone young with a bold personality and even bolder ideas. In Sacramento, I felt stripped of having free reign over my creative freedom. I was told exactly what to do and say. It wasn't fun. And if you're the type of person who lives and breathes and thrives off of the ability to express yourself then you can see how that scenario would be less than appealing.

So I expressed an interest in the job my former boss told me about.

I came down on Friday, September 24th (just 4 days after I started the post above) and interviewed for the job. The interview lasted two and a half hours. I felt a warmer reception in the two and a half hours I was in that building than in the two and a half years I lived in Sacramento. After I had met with the higher-ups I went back to my hotel and got a call with an official offer about 5:30 that same afternoon.

I said yes.

I spent the next week traveling between Charlotte and Charleston, trying to find a place to live. I wanted to start my new job as soon as possible. I found a house on Isle of Palms (my station is actually located in Mt. Pleasant) and I now live directly across the street from the beach. I walk out my front door, cross Palm Blvd, and have my toes in the sand.

And the job is great too...actually, it's better than great.

I feel like I (somehow) found the perfect place...for me, at least. I may have not changed latitudes but I did change coasts to find real changes in attitudes.

That was a crazy game of poker.

2010-08-31T22:00:00.000-07:00

So far today I have ripped all of my fake nails off and bitten my real nails down so low that my fingers throb with every stroke of this keyboard. I also went and saw Eat Pray Love. I took my dogs to the park...oh yeah...and I quit my job. I guess I should rewind to the night of the Rihanna show and explain what actually happened. I know I made reference to something "ridiculous" that went down. I think you could probably use that night as a jumping off point to understand what lead to my resignation today. Although technically I'd have to say that there are a series of events reaching all the way back to September of 2008 which, when added together, culminated in my departure.

There are people who will say I'm crazy. With the current economic climate and stalled job market, why would anyone choose to be unemployed right now? The simple answer I have is that my sanity isn't worth a paycheck.

I could launch into some self-righteous diatribe about the whole thing but what good would that do? The reasons behind the decision aren't as important as the future so I'll keep that to myself. I know why, that's all that matters.

I'm leaving California on Sunday.

I'll be back in NC by Friday.

Sometimes, in the poker game of life, you have to fold a good hand to win the tournament.

That Rihanna Reign Just Won't Let Up

2010-07-13T20:51:00.000-07:00

Well I lied. I guess if you want to see my Alaska pictures you'll have to go check them out on my facebook page or something. I will, however, proudly post a picture of me and my new BFF...Rihanna...maybe you've heard of her? But I won't even launch into the story behind this picture because only T.J. will completely understand the true absurdity of it and she's already heard me lament about it over the phone.

Anyways, for those of you who thought I might have already gone back on the things I said in my last post, I assure you that that hasn't happened. I still firmly believe I did the right thing (in regards to the ex) and stand behind my decision 100%. In fact, I was down in Modesto earlier today hanging around my old stomping grounds for the afternoon and for the first time in years I didn't stop in to see him at work...or text him to let him know I'd be in town...or even think about him at all, really. Besides, it was a quick trip. I checked on my house, talked to my renters, dropped off a birthday present, hit a doctor's appointment and then drove straight back to the 916.

There's also a new boy in the picture. I won't spend too much time talking about him on here because I don't know yet how short-lived this is going to be...and if it only lasts a little while then I'm not going to waste too much energy thinking/obsessing over him...especially since I haven't heard from him since he left my house Saturday morning. Time will tell.

This weekend I really want to go to Lake Tahoe for the Rascal Flatts show but I'm committed to hosting and judging the State of California Karaoke Championships...try not to get too jealous. If anyone happens to be at the CA State Fair (Cal Expo) on Saturday, come find me. I'll be at the Promenade Stage starting at 10 a.m. Jesus help me.

Case closed.

2010-06-27T21:17:00.001-07:00

I've been home from Alaska for exactly one week and I'm ready to go back. I never thought I'd love it as much as I did. It was more than a vacation for me. Something happened on the trip that I never saw coming. The funny thing about leaving your everyday life...breaking the routine, blocking out the noise and detaching from it all...is that sometimes you gain a new perspective on things that have bogged your down for months (or even years). It's like someone takes a Polaroid snapshot of your life, hands it to you as you're boarding the plane and somehow, someway, in the few days you're gone you're able to step out of the stillness of the picture and look at everything around you from a third party viewpoint. Things you never noticed before become painfully obvious. This probably isn't making any sense so I'll try to explain it a different way.

Up until the day I left for Alaska I was contemplating my future with my ex. We were spending a lot of time together...he still has all those same boyish qualities I found so appealing when I met him 5 years ago. Now, let me pause here and say that I realize some of you reading this know my ex personally and some of you know nothing about him. For the latter group, here's a little background info. My ex is a male model. A real one. He's one of the most (physically) beautiful human beings I've ever laid eyes on. I remember the night I met him. I couldn't believe that someone so insanely gorgeous was really just a big goof ball. And he was equally intrigued by me. I was this homegrown southern spitfire with a million flaws but an honesty about them all that he embraced regardless. We gravitated to one another with such force...I'm not sure if I'll ever feel that again...as it was electric. I can't say I fully believe in love at first sight but it was the closest I had ever been to something slightly resembling it...or at least, it was definitely a classic case of lust at first sight.

So when he came back into my life a couple of months ago and apologized and admitted that he fully regretted what happened between us...I found myself getting sucked right back into that dangerous vortex of attraction, comfort, familiarity, genuine feelings and of course...a dash of aphrodisia. For those of you who have never experienced it, believe me when I say that concupiscence can be more addicting than the most addictive drug.

Anyways, the day before I left for my trip he was texting me incessantly. He wanted to "get together" which meant he wanted to hook-up. I don't know why the urgency struck him right before I left. Maybe it was a hint of the "what if, by some minimal chance, she decides not to come back and goes straight home with her family" that got to him. Maybe it was the weeks of innocent flirting back and forth that had finally taken its toll and re-ignited the desire. Or maybe it was a combination of things...I'm not really sure. Here's what's interesting about all this. My old self would have given in and told him to come to Sacramento for the night. But the new me, who still had bags to pack and errands to run, told him he'd have to wait until I got back.

And I meant it.

I had been holding out for a couple months. Maybe it was finally time to give in and be with him again...just to see if it was the same...if it would feel the same. I knew it was dangerous. There were any number of outcomes that could have resulted from us "going there" but still, something inside me told me to make him wait. So I left on Thursday June 10th with the intention of revisiting my old "stomping grounds" when I got back from my trip.

But this is where the story gets really interesting. Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean (and about half-way through Eat, Pray, Love) I made one of the most definitive and final decisions of my entire life. I literally just knew that it was time to let him go, cut it off, release him (or both of us) from the unseen hook that had snagged us both by the cheek and was reeling us in towards a place neither of us really wanted to go. I can't even really put in to words what I experienced or why it happened or how I knew it was time...but I just knew. There's a passage in Eat, Pray, Love that says:

"People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life..."

And listen, I'm not one to read a profound statement and instantly start to shape and mold my entire life around it but those words spoke to me. My ex did change my life for the better (which some of you already know about). He helped me arrive at that perfect destination at that perfect time six months ago. He did his job, played his part, and he changed my life forever. But on my trip I realized it was time to say goodbye for good. Part of me will always love him. Part of me will always wonder about what our life together would have been like 30, 40, 50 years down the road. But an even bigger part of me got smacked in the face by the realization that a pivotal moment was on the horizon.

I came home exactly 7 days ago.

He was ready and waiting to take me up on my offer. You know, the "you'll have to wait until I get back" offer...

But I told him I couldn't go through with it.

I explained that our friendship and fondness of one another meant more to me than sex. And of course he didn't believe me. He used every trick in the book to convince me otherwise. I stood my ground. I said, "I'm not going to change my mind later tonight, or in a couple of days, or next week...or six months from now. We have to let each other live our separate lives now. I'm serious."

Case closed.

He hasn't spoken to me since Tuesday. We've gone longer without communicating in the past but this time it's different. This time I dictated the terms of "us" and this time (instead of always giving in to him) I spoke with authority and a power I haven't unleashed in a long time.

And it felt really fucking good.

PS - I will post Alaska pictures tomorrow, I promise.

Kiss My Couture

2010-06-06T14:50:00.000-07:00

I spent my weekend preparing for my upcoming trip to Alaska. Yesterday was supposed to be all about picking up a few necessities to take with me. Today was all about returning the $600 worth of clothes I bought yesterday (none of which could be classified as necessary). I'm not usually a buy-and-return kind of shopper but apparently my body was temporarily possessed by some kind of shopping demon...or something...I don't know...I don't really remember. It was all such a blur. I think I vaguely recall floating from store to store splurging with the uninhibited spirit of high school seniors on prom night.

In any event, I woke up this morning in a panic. I got dressed and was literally standing outside the entrance to Nordstrom at 10:55 a.m. waiting for them to open at 11:00. In my state of delusion yesterday I purchased a $220 Juicy velor track suit that said Kiss My Couture on the ass of the pants, a pair of $190 True Religion jeans, an $80 pair of Vivienne Tam leggings and a couple of shirts. Let's start with the Juicy outfit. It was hot pink. I am a 28 year old woman who is entirely too old to be wearing a hot pink velor track suit with Kiss My Couture written across the ass...I know this. It looked like the kind of ensemble you'd see on one of the Jersey Shore cast members. It was loud, gaudy, and made me look like I was trying to pass (unsuccessfully) for 17 again. I returned it. I also returned the shirts and $80 leggings. Yes, you read and heard me correctly...EIGHTY DOLLARS FOR LEGGINGS!?!?!?

The only thing I kept was the pair of jeans because a girl, no matter how old, can never let a good pair of jeans go. And these jeans, somehow, someway, make my ass look like I've never seen it before...award-winning.

Anyways, after I returned all of my mistakes from yesterday I went to Barnes and Noble to get a book. I figured I might need a little escape. I love my family more than anything in the world, but 10 days with them could very well be the death of me. When I walked into the store I was immediately approached by a very ice looking guy. "Excuse me, do you have a minute?" he asked. I should have politely shrugged him off but he was cute. He was selling some new Kindle-like device which I had absolutely no interest in but like I said, he was cute. So I listened to his sales pitch and wasted a good 15 minutes doing that while I was thinking about what I'd like to read on my vacation. I had almost decided on The Carrie Diaries - the prequel to the Sex and the City franchise before I realized that that book is sold in the "Teen Reading" section next to the vampire books. I just couldn't, not after the near-disaster I had just avoided with the Juicy velor track suit purchasing incident.

So I went with Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I know it's over-hyped and I'm a couple of years late to the party but better late than never, I guess.

The only thing I really need to do now is get a better memory card for my camera so I can take lots of pictures.

Oh, and in case you were wondering. Yes, I am still hanging out with my ex. And yes, I am still undecided about whether or not I'm making a huge mistake. We went to the Tim McGraw concert together last weekend and the strangest part about being around him now is that it feels like we've started all over again...back to where we were 5 years ago. We don't kiss, we don't hook up, we don't sleep together...but he has let me know that all of those options are available should I so choose. And choosing not to has been difficult because I'm still more attracted to him than I have been to anyone else I've ever met. However, the innocence of our interactions is kind of nice. It's not complicated or messy. And I know that as soon as I allow myself to wander into that gray area again I'm in trouble...so for now, we remain two people who used to share our lives together...two people who haven't completely let go...but don't really know what we're holding on to. And I guess that's ok...

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

2010-05-17T08:47:00.001-07:00

Here's what I know about relationships: they're not based on Adam Sandler movies. When they're over you don't get chased on to an airplane where your (almost) ex sings "Grow Old With You" over the intercom system. I think those romantic comedies should come with alternate endings...the real life version...where the girl goes to leave and asks the guy, "Are you gonna chase me?" and he replies coldly, "Probably not." Now that's an ending I can relate to and I know it's a pessimistic view, but 99% of the time things end for a reason; people don't suddenly realize that they just can't let that certain someone get away, showing up at the last possible second before it's too late. So most of the time couples break-up, go their separate ways and eventually let go of old feelings thus moving on to new relationships. It's real life.

Why am I talking about this?

Well, because I thought my last "real" relationship was over. I had gotten on the plane, it had pulled away from the gate and even though my eyes were roaming over the other passengers hoping to see him sitting a few rows away (guitar in hand, ready to play) he wasn't there. So I moved and then I moved on even though, at the time, I didn't want to.

Then, a little over a month ago, I got a phone call...out of the blue. It came, the apology I had been waiting a long time for. What's happened since then has been interesting. I don't think either of us knows exactly what we're doing. My friends and family seem to fall into three distinct categories. There are those who think I'm an idiot...making a huge mistake (my parents are in this group). There is a group in the middle who abide by the "proceed with caution" credo and the remaining are the romantics, they see this as God's will. I have mixed feelings.

Does it feel good to spend time with him again? Absolutely.

Are things different now? Yes.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Both.

Where do we go from here? I don't know.

Sometimes I think I'm crazy. Sometimes I think people might deserve a second chance. The rest of the time I try not to over-analyze this the way I do everything else in my life. But enough about relationship drama...

I don't think I ever posted pictures of my new toy. I bought a Ford Escape Hybrid because I can't deal with my little matchbox of a car anymore...even if it was the convertible I had dreamed about owning since the time I was a little girl.

This SUV makes me feel socially responsible...I love it.

What's wrong with me?

2010-05-10T06:09:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day was yesterday. I called my mom when I woke up. It was 8:00 my time, 11:00 hers. I did it on purpose. I knew that calling before noon meant that my parents wouldn't be at my grandma's house yet and I wouldn't have to play the "pass the phone around to wish everyone a Happy Mother's Day" game. It gets redundant. If I call early enough, I don't have to deal with all the aunts and cousins...breeders, who all have children and therefore, are all mothers. I also get to avoid the dreaded question, "When are you going to settle down and have a family?" Little do they know...

Lately I've been feeling stuck, restless. It's time to go again. I'm anxious, like I'm about to jump out of my skin. I've had irrational thoughts recently. Maybe I should quit my corporate job, give up my corporate salary and go to work as a flight attendant. Travel the world and live life out of a suitcase. If the pay weren't so bad, I might actually consider it. I looked up the salary averages for women who work as cabin crews...are you ready for this? According to what I saw, in your 20th year as a flight attendant for Delta you can expect to earn around $42,000. I make double that and I'm not even 30 yet. I'm not bragging, just stating a fact.

This is what makes my predicament so fascinating. If I'm willing to give up the paycheck, I can do anything I want. The irony of my situation is that I (very foolishly) believed that by the time I reached this point in my career I'd be on top of the world. I thought that if I worked hard and established myself I'd have potential employers throwing themselves mercilessly at my feet, begging me to come work for them. What was I thinking? That naivety couldn't have been further from the truth. In reality, companies don't want to pay for large(er) market talent. They'd rather promote from within...the intern who has worked for free for 2 years...or hire someone inexperienced who can be low-balled into taking a smaller salary. I get it. I'm happy for the ones getting their foot in the door, their "break."

I have to stop and ask myself: Where is all this coming from? Am I always going to be one of those women who can't settle or stay put in one place for too long? Or is it just a natural reaction to the natural progression of getting older? I'm coming up on 30. Maybe that's making me a little nuts. Or maybe there really is something missing. I have friends who are married with children and they don't seem to wrestle with this nonsense.

Anyways, my schedule is still hectic. I've gotten through my two trips to NC. Weddings are NOT my thing so it was painful...which is putting it nicely. I seem to be missing the "females love weddings" gene because I'd rather go get a pap smear than attend a wedding. I don't know why that is...like I said, I'm pretty sure there's something inherently wrong with me. That's the best explanation I can come up with.

I'm heading to Tahoe this weekend. Next weekend is my boss' wedding in Carmel. The weekend after that I'm committed to San Francisco. First weekend in June might be another trip to Tahoe with the ex...he has suddenly expressed an interest in trying to rekindle our relationship...I probably won't go. And then it's off to Alaska for 10 days.

New Developments

2010-03-10T06:47:00.000-08:00

Here we are, almost half way through March. Interesting. Things got a little hectic there for a minute which is why I haven't checked in. The good news is that now I have a lot to talk about:

I'm back to doing mornings and middays at work. This time I got a 20% salary increase.

My brother and sister-in-law flew out here and we spent a few days at Lake Tahoe.

I got swine flu.

AND...

The roommate from hell.

1). WORK - New developments have occurred. Last time I did mornings and middays, I wasn't given a choice. I was told, "You have to do this or your job is probably at risk." I didn't get paid any extra for doing double the work and it left a bad taste in my mouth. On a lighter note, I took the show to #1 in the ratings and did enjoy my extra bonus money. Then one day they came to me and said I was being pulled off middays (which I suspect is because my boss needed to make room on the staff for his friend). Fine. I wasn't getting compensated for the extra work anyways so I might as well go back to doing one show. Well, the person who took over middays tanked it and as of right now, the show is in 8th place. So about two and a half weeks ago my boss came to me and this time (unlike last) made an official offer for me to return to the show I worked hard to build up last year. This time there's a better bonus structure and a pretty significant raise involved. I gladly accepted.

Anyways, as with any job there are reasons why I love what I do and there are reasons I hate it. Let's start with the positive. My job makes me laugh almost everyday. Our stunt guy had to go out promoting the new movie "Our Family Wedding" and we had him dress up like a bride.

Ridiculous.

On the flip side, I work with some of the biggest jackasses in the entire world. There's something about being on the radio that causes inflated egos and "dirty old man" syndrome. Case in point: my boss' friend...the one who was brought on to our staff when he got fired from his last station. He's almost 40, thinks he's 19. The other day I found this while looking for our station contact list because I needed to call my engineer with a transmitter question. I was flipping through a binder when I came across this little gem:

Now, there might be another explanation for this...but I can't think of what it might be. My best guess is that this tool decided to sit down and make a list of his sexual conquests for the week. Keep in mind he's almost 40 and these girls are probably in their early 20's. After I took a second to process what I was looking at, I had to take a picture of it because I doubt anyone would believe me if I tried to describe the list without proof. He thinks he's funny, he thinks he's smart and he thinks he's hot...none of which are words I'd ever use to describe him.

I think it's sad, pathetic and disgusting. I wish I could record some of the things he says. At least he's my friend on Facebook so I can read his status updates, roll my eyes and sigh out of sheer repulsion. It makes my stomach turn that this idiot is one of my peer's. He's the type of person who gives our profession such an obnoxious reputation.

2). TAHOE - Can I just say that Lake Tahoe is one of the most amazing places I've ever been? I love it there so much I can't stand it. If I do wind up moving back to the east coast, I will miss random weekends at LT. My brother and sister-in-law were here so we got a place for a couple of nights. They wanted to ski and I'm more of an extreme snow boarder...not...but I do like walking around, gambling, snow mobiling, and hanging out. It was gorgeous!

3). SWINE FLU - let me preface this by saying that I was never actually tested or diagnosed with H1N1 but I was put on Tamiflu which is what they prescribe to treat the swine. I thought I was dying. I hadn't been that sick in SO LONG. It happened the week before my brother flew out. I had to take a few days off work. I was given a sars mask and told to stay out of the general population and even now, over a week later, I still feel pretty bad. It's that last little part of a cold/flu that seem to linger forever.

And finally...

4). THE ROOMMATE FROM HELL - I don't have the time nor the energy to launch into this story right now. It'll have to wait until next time...but I promise it's good.

Who knows...

2010-02-01T06:58:00.000-08:00

Here's a question: where did January go? New Year's felt like it was yesterday. I literally woke up this morning and thought, "Holly shit...it's February?"

First up, the new bedding. I call the look "an introduction of color" as I've only really ever had warm, neutral, earthy tones in my room. This is definitely different...for me, anyways.

Next up, I bought my two tickets to N.C. for April and May to go home for Rebecca's wedding. I was hoping to be living in Charlotte by that time but I couldn't risk waiting too long (to see which coast I'd be on) and paying out the yin yang if I'm still in California. I also booked my trip to Seattle for the Alaska trip in June. At first I was dreading 8 days in Alaska but people keep telling me it's going to be amazing. Plus, it's for my mom and dad's 60th birthdays AND their 34th wedding anniversary so as long as I'm hanging out with them I'm sure it'll be all good. I'm a little worried about my mom and sister-in-law though. They're not really the outdoorsy types and I don't know how much high-end shopping there is in Seward.

All I have to do is make it through the end of March and then I've got a really busy few months.

In the meantime, I decided to try my hand at indoor rock wall climbing. I joined a place called Pipeworks Climbing and Fitness and so far I really like it. I don't know if it will turn into a lifelong hobby or anything, but this year is about trying new things and clinging to my youth like it's going out of style.

And finally, I realized yesterday that you know your life is taking a turn for "uninteresting" when the highlight of your weekend is successfully making spaghetti squash for the first time...and then bragging about it to my friends like it was a real accomplishment. In a quest to hone my culinary skills I'm also thinking about signing up for a "French Country" cooking class. It's either that one or the "All Vegetarian" (not because I want to be a vegetarian but because I'd like to learn how to make vegetables less boring, in general).

Anyways, I'm at work right now...and in case you're wondering how that's going...well, it's ok. I have nothing major to complain about. Things have been going pretty well. I think my aversion to this job comes down to two main deterrents. The first being that I don't want to live in Sacramento anymore. I want to be closer to home. The second being a sense of social responsibility...which scolds and nags me every time I read a story on perezhilton.com and reminds me that I should be doing something of substance...something that actually makes a difference. Radio is fun but it's far from humanitarian. Perhaps my next career path will take me into the non-profit sector. Who knows...

Come what may...

2010-01-14T21:09:00.001-08:00

Holy crap. It's almost halfway through January and I've definitely been neglecting my trusty friend here. It's been an incredibly busy year so far, and it just started so I'm excited that we're off to such an eventful couple of weeks.

I had surgery at the beginning of January and was in the hospital for a couple of days. My mom flew out and stayed with me for 6 days...and for those of you who know me (and my family) you know that that's a long time for me and my mom to be in each others company. I was worried we'd have a "Muir Wood incident" referring to the time she and my dad came out to visit and she screamed at me in the middle of the Muir Woods (in front of several terrified tourists). For such a petite woman, she can be pretty vicious. Anyways, all was well this time and I was relieved. She did tell me that I needed new bedding because my comforter was in "unacceptable" condition. Whatever. I have two dogs. They jump on my bed. It's not dirty, it's just a few years old. But she was right so I ordered new stuff. Pictures to follow shortly...

Work has been going extremely well...eerily well. After my surgery I took a week off work and my coworkers all seemed genuinely excited that I was back on Tuesday, even the ones I don't always get along with. I didn't quite know how to receive this at first...but decided to just enjoy it instead of suspiciously questioning their reaction to my return.

I feel optimistic about 2010 so far. I know this year is going to bring a lot of new adventures and I look forward to whatever comes my way. I realize this is a disappointing first post for the New Year...especially since I've been absent for a couple of weeks...but it's late and I've got to get to bed. Fear not, there will be plenty for me to talk about in the coming weeks - promise!

A Very Merry Christmas.

2009-12-25T14:11:00.000-08:00

Well I know I said that I probably wasn't going to be doing too much more blogging before the end of the year but it's Christmas and I'm at work and nobody else is in the building and since there's no one to talk to, I wound up turning to the one place where I feel I can be myself and speak candidly about anything I feel like talking about.

I just got off the phone with my family. They're all gathered at my Uncle David's house in Sanford. My younger cousin just got engaged and upon hearing the news I was instantly relieved that I wasn't there to feel like the familial leper...the one pushing 30, single and living a like an untamed savage on the west coast. Even if that isn't their opinion of me, sometimes it's easier to assume that it is.

So far, I've thoroughly enjoyed my quiet Christmas. The only thing that really sucks is that everything is closed today. If I could go get a cup of coffee from Starbucks and hang out at home watching old movies all day, I'd be happy as a clam. Last night I saw "It's a Wonderful Life" for the first time ever. My friend Jenny said that a lot of people cry upon watching it...but I didn't. It actually made me grateful for the life I have out here. Sure, I get homesick sometimes and sure I get lonely...but at the end of the day I can say that I did it. Poor Geroge Bailey. Even in his happy ending he never got to do all of the things he dreamed of.

Anyways, I brought my dogs to work with me because my IT guy still has my laptop (see last post) and as I'm sitting here I can tell they're starting to get antsy. I took a picture of Parker sitting in a chair across from me a few minutes ago and he might be hard to see against the purple chair...but I did find one thing particularly amusing.

Look at the magazine in front of him. I said, "Parker are those your homies?" and he cocked his head to the side like he understood. God, I love this dog.

Rock on.

2009-12-22T08:15:00.000-08:00

Christmas in California is an interesting experience. Besides Christmas lights on palm trees, I've also noticed an over-abundance of Raider nation themed Christmas paraphernalia. Case in point, our studio decorations. Please notice all of the liquor bottles under the tree. Classy.

Well, this will probably be my last post of 2009. I finished out the year with a pleasant little trojan virus on my laptop so my IT guy has had my computer for about a week now. I figure I'll be lucky to have it back sometime in January.

Last week I made a trip to San Francisco to see some friends. We had dinner at The Cliff House and it was the best night I've had in a long time. Years from now when I've long left CA and have a normal life back home I'll remember the four of us sitting at our table overlooking the Pacific...laughing and talking. For a moment, it felt like a scene from a movie. Three radio dj's and a Capitol Records rep (just hours after learning of her promotion) sharing our work stories...a bitchy Katy Perry, meeting Janet Jackson, and groping Lenny Kravitz. If you're ever in San Francisco make sure you have dinner at The Cliff House...it's majestic.

This past weekend we did a charity event with Danny Glover. It was a Christmas dinner giveaway for struggling single-parent families in Northern California. My biceps were burning after slinging 16 pound frozen turkeys for three hours...of course that's the job I would get. Every time the frozen turkey bin started running low, I'd grab three or four (if I could carry that many) from the truck parked outside in to where they were being distributed...yeah, I broke a sweat but it was worth it.

And finally yesterday was our ugly holiday sweater party at work. And yes, I tied for best ugly sweater with one of my co-hosts. We each got Rock Band 2 Special Edition bundles and I almost cried I was so excited. The only problem is that I don't own a Play Station (which I definitely have to have to play my Rock Band on). Never fear, I'll track one down somehow and I will spend my Christmas on a world tour!

Rock on.

Ms. Grinch

2009-12-08T07:00:00.000-08:00

We're having an ugly sweater holiday party at work this year. Everyone is acting like this is some amazingly original idea, which it is not. I don't have the heart to tell them that people have been doing these types of soirees for years. The impending party, however, presents a problem for me as I do not own a sweater of the Christmas persuasion...ugly or otherwise. So I've decided to make my own instead of purchasing one from God-knows-where. This is the picture I will be using:

These are actually two of my coworkers and this is the (photoshopped) picture used on the party invitation that has been circulating around our office. The guy in the blue is my boss and the guy in the red is our producer. I hope I win the ugly sweater contest...I think you get a $10 gift card or something for winning and if nothing else, I should get points or creativity. And if I'm not able to pull it off, I have a back-up plan. My plan B is a t-shirt which simply reads, "Happy Birthday Sweet Litte 8 Pound 6 Ounce Baby Jesus." I'm somewhat concerned that that shirt would offend some of the hardcore thumpers I work with...but I would think it was funny...and even if I didn't win with that one, I think it would be a nice conversation piece.

Well one of the things I will never get used to (living in California) is Christmas on the West Coast. They put lights on palm trees!

Not only that, but I saw a guy dressed up like Santa Claus...he was one of those sign holders who stands on a street corner advertising for stuff...anyways he had the beard, the hat, the glasses, the black gloves...and then he had on red gym shorts and flip flops. WTF...it's Christmas...put on some damn red velvet pants and black boots for Christ's sake!

One thing I have to admit, is that the holidays make me a little testy. It's got to be some kind of weird combination of holiday stress mixed with general exhaustion resulting from too many months of working with no vacation time...add in some cold weather and the obligatory gift-giving traditions with friends, family and coworkers...I tell you, it's enough to make me a little nutty. I gave some poor woman the "death stare" in Target the other day because she couldn't decide which Zhu Zhu pet to buy. Lady, it's a robotic hamster...it does not matter to little Timmy Tommy if you get Mr. Squiggles or Num Nums or Chunk or Pipsqueak...two weeks from now when these stupid little toys are irrelevant and your kid doesn't want anything to do with them anymore you'll regret wasting your time (and mine) deciding which one to buy...now move your damn cart out of my way before I hurl this economy size bottle of Ultra Tide 96 Load at your head!

See what I mean? Testy.

Well, I better get back to work now. I'm starting to get myself all worked up.

Cooled off

2009-11-30T17:54:00.001-08:00

Well the good news is that I'm feeling much better since my last post on here. I'm coming off of a four day weekend feeling recharged thanks to the Nintendo Wii and Beatles Rock Band. I'm just saying, whether you need a guitar player or a drummer...I always score in the 90th percentile...so think about it. I wish we had recorded video of the 4 drunken fools singing Come Together. It was epic.

Back to work today.

Now that I'm not doing middays anymore, I have something I can focus my time and energy towards. Every year our station picks a charity and does some kind of community service for the holidays. Last year we did a canned food drive in honor of Brenden Foster, we called it Brenden's Wish. Great cause...great intentions...complete cluster fuck when it came to execution. I wasn't going to let that happen this time around.

I pitched the charity idea at a meeting we had recently. Considering I was the most prepared, they kind of had to pick mine. So we're going to be doing a "Change for the Children" campaign for the Sacramento Children's Home. I went this morning and toured their facility...it reminded me of a run-down summer camp and made me sad for the kids who live there. Their residential program is for the extreme of extreme cases of abuse and neglect. The kids are in custody of the state and have been tossed around to several foster homes with unsuccessful placements...thus, landing at more of an institution than a home.

They are currently facing a $750,000 cut in funding due to the disaster that is commonly referred to as "our state budget."

So that's what I'll be focusing on until the end of the year.

Other things I'll be looking forward to: American Idol starts in January and that's all I can think of for now.

Used and abused.

2009-11-23T17:12:00.000-08:00

Well, well, well...here we are the week of Thanksgiving 2009. I started this blog approximately 11 months ago and I'm definitely feeling the end-of-the-year burnout. But alas, now is the time to rally the troops because the holiday season just seems to require extra energy...more so than any other time of the year. I won't be going home for Thanksgiving or Christmas because I need to save my vacation days for next year. More on *that* in a minute. So this week, as in weeks past, I will be hanging out in Sacramento with Parker and Moxie. I do not plan on cooking a turkey, nor will I be watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade...rather, I plan on consuming copious amounts of wine and trash TV.

But before we get too far into Thanksgiving details, let me back up for a minute.

Recently I was invited to attend my first NBA basketball game. The Sacramento Kings people decided that they wanted to forge a working relationship with some of the local radio personalities, fearing that without our help ticket sales for this season would be even more dismal than in seasons past. I mean, we're in a recession. Who can afford tickets to NBA basketball games...especially in Sacramento...with a team that's been struggling? The Kings PR people held a meeting with us to go over ideas about how we could build "personal relationships" with the players and invited us to attend the King's home opener against Memphis. They gave us great seats and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

But as great as the game was...by far...the best part of the night was finding out who we were sitting behind. Alright, see the guy in the black leather bomber jacket and the white hat...he's sitting courtside beside the guy in the purplish-blue shirt? Know who that is? That's Daniel "Rudy" Ruettiger, the guy that the movie Rudy was about!!! I just thought that was something special. He waved to us a couple of times and gave me the thumbs up when I got put up on the jumbo-tron (also a very thrilling experience) near the end of the game.

So that was fun.

Last week I went to two movie premiere's. I did The Blindside on Tuesday and The Twilight Saga: New Moon on Wednesday. They're not really premiere's...more like sneak peeks where you get to see it a couple of days before it officially opens in theaters. The radio stations in our company give away these screening passes so when you show up, everyone in the theater is "a listener." This can be quite the ego-booster because everyone treats you like you're a big deal...when in reality...it's just a movie theater in Sacramento on a Tuesday night. You stand up in front of the audience before the movie starts, you introduce yourself, thank everyone for coming, give away a few prizes, and then harvest a nice, big round of applause...all for you...and it feels good. I see why so many people who do this for a living, over time, start to think that they're actually the big cheese.

Anyways, Friday of last week is what I really want to talk about. If you've been reading this blog then you probably already know all about how I was initially hired by my radio station to be part of a morning show. Then, about 14 months ago, the guy doing middays quit to manage his wife's WNBA career (yes, she's that bad ass...Olympic gold medalist...the whole nine yeards) so I feel like I kind of got bullied into doing it...for free...meaning that I took on extra duties - which someone else was getting paid a full-time salary for doing - and got nothing in return.

At the time, I felt like it was more important to secure my position at the station than to fight about having to do an extra daily shift. Afterall, I was the newest on staff, I was the youngest AND I was the only female on-air personality. I was told at the time, by my boss, that there was NO ROOM in the budget for a raise...that I could either do the extra work for no extra pay and be safe from "the chopping block" if cuts came around or I could refuse and be the first person he'd have to eliminate if he had to get rid of someone.

Our morning show is 5:45 a.m. until 10:00 a.m. and the midday shift was 10:00 a.m. until 2:00 p.m. That's 8 hours and 15 minutes on the air everyday Monday through Friday which doesn't include the fact that I do all of the morning show website work as well. Keep in mind also that I arrive every morning prior to the 5:45 start time...normally around 5:15-5:30. Listen, I know it's not back-breaking physical labor...but it is a long time to sit confined in a little room...responsible for doing quality work for, what should be, two full-time positions. Oh wait, I take that back - I was allowed to voicetrack my show from 1:00 until 2:00 everyday...a whole hour I was excused from. Did I mention that NOBODY else on the staff EVER had to do double daily airshifts AND they made me work a few 5 hours Saturday shifts as well?

Well as much as I just complained about it, I'm not stupid. I accepted the midday show...a bit begrudgingly...because I felt like I wasn't being fairly compensated for doing two full-time airshifts for one salary...but what else could I do? Come to work everyday wondering if that would be the day they'd let me go? I felt like I had to prove that not only could I do it, but that I could do it well...take the midday show to #1 and be able to say, "I carried this station with my numbers because I'm good. I never got paid a dime for it." Now granted, they did offer me a bonus structure for my midday show, but I always saw that as a reward for the results...not payment for the actual work that was being done.

Not to mention, that over the summer my show was the only daypart on the station that was #1. I beat the morning show. I beat the afternoon show AND I beat the night show. Did I get my bonus for it? No. Because the contract they re-drafted for me which included my new responsibilites as a morning show co-host and midday host excluded the summer numbers. Let me break this down for you...the midday show was the only #1 rated daypart on the entire radio station and I didn't even get my bonus for it...so I did it, absolutely free and got absolutely nothing in return.

Please pardon the "diva tone" I'm using here. But facts are facts. I was their work horse. I did a good job. I stepped up (even if I only did it because I felt like I had to) and I did it well.

So what happened on Friday?

Well, my boss came in told me that he was taking me off middays. He tried to spin it like this was a good thing for me and you're probably thinking the same thing. If I wasn't getting paid for it and all I've done in this post is complain about the lack of compensation...then why would I possibly be upset that he would take me off the show?

Here's why. Remember when I was told that there was no money in the budget and that there just simply wasn't anything they could give me so I'd HAVE to do it for free...but if I didn't, I'd probably get cut from the staff? Well, the reason they took me off middays is so that someone else could do it...someone who's getting paid a FULL-TIME SALARY TO DO IT. Yes, you heard me correctly. The person who did middays before me got paid a full-time salary and the person who took over my show today is getting paid a full-time salary. Did I mention, that both of the people who came before and after me were/are getting paid FULL-TIME SALARIES to do what I was doing for free...getting #1 ratings for...for 14 months??????????????

Now, you might be asking yourself...that doesn't make any sense, why would your boss do that? Good question. I'll tell you why. It's because he had to make room on the staff for his ass-kissing friend. That guy got put on the night show (with a full-time salary)...the old night guy moved to afternoons...the old afternoon guy got moved to middays...and I got bumped back to just the morning show. But wait, I thought that there was no money in the budget to give me anything...and now there's an entirely new full-time position on our staff...who's paying that salary? If there was no money in the budget, then how is this new guy getting paid?

Oh that's right, it's because I was being lied to.

And even if they cut other people's salaries to be able to afford a new position on our staff, then it still doesn't make sense that they'd pull me off a show that I've excelled at...a show that I've invested a lot in and energy in...a show that they could still pay me to do for less than they're paying my replacement. Or am I crazy?

I feel like I just got used for the past 14 months. And as soon as my boss' friend needed a job, all of a sudden we needed to "reshuffle the deck." Please don't insult my intelligence. You forced me to do something I didn't want to do by threatening me with my job...leaving me no choice...and as soon as you waned to make room on the staff for your buddy...the one who has outperformed everybody else on the station is the one who has to give up her show, give up her midday bonus and go back to being the "low man on the totem pole." I got pushed aside without so much as a "thank you for stepping up to the plate." No "job well-done." No "we appreciate you being a team-player." Nothing.

When I told my boss, "My primary concern is that, per our conversation 14 months ago when you told me that I'd likely be the one losing my job when budget cuts came around unless I did both shifts for no extra pay, without middays I'm now vulnerable again. I mean, it goes without saying that I'm less valuable now." In response, he had the gall to look me in the eye and say, "Well that was a different time." BULLSHIT. You used me. End of discussion. Throw a period on the end of that sentence and let's call it a day. Period.

Does anybody else see this from my perspective? Am I the crazy one?

My lawyer friend said that I have a discrimination lawsuit on my hands. He also said that I could go after my company for breach of contract since, technically, my contract is for mornings and middays...but really, what would that accomplish? They'd just throw me back on the middays for no extra pay and I'd still feel like I was getting the raw end of the deal. I don't want to sue anyone. It's not even so much about the money (although I know that's what it probably sounds like it's solely about)...because it's also about the principle too. I just don't think you should be allowed to treat people that way. I don't think you should be able to bully someone into doing something and then take it away from them, spinning the story to make it sound good so that I'll say, "Oh ok...thank you so much for relieving me of the midday show."

One of the things I've noticed about my boss is that he always figures out a way to decide he's going to screw someone over...but then spin the story in such a way so that people don't realize what's really happening. I'm smarter than that. Please don't waste your time insulting my intelligence. I recognize an agenda from a mile away. Your friend needed a job, so everyone got moved around and I got screwed. If that wasn't the case then why not just switch the afternoon and night guys...I mean, if it was really about "reshuffling the deck" like he implied...putting the stronger personality in afternoon drive...then leave me out of it. But no, sadly this wasn't about what's best for our station. At least, not from where I stand.

If you're still reading this by now then let me just say WOW. I can't believe you made it this far. I just had to get all of that off my chest because it's been bothering me. And I have no one to talk to about it all. My parents don't really "get" the way things work in radio. My coworkers are the absolute worst people I could ever confide in and honestly, it just takes so much energy to try to explain it verbally that it helps me to write it all down...get it all out...purge it.

It's ok. I keep telling myself, "I'll be home soon. I'll be home soon."

I feel like I could keep writing...I could talk about my friend Rebecca's wedding how she's asked me to be the Maid of Honor...in North Carolina...six months from now. That's a little overwhelming but I'm glad to do it. I could also go into more detail about our family vacation to Alaska coming up in June (one month after the wedding) and how I'll be using almost all of my vacation time before the 4th of July next year...but I'll save that for another time. Not to mention, I'm suppoed to plan our 10 year High School reunion in N.C. next year because I was the senior class president but my schedule is just filling up too quickly.

The good news is, that if this blog survives into 2010 then I'll have plenty to tell you about when it all gets here. Until then, Happy Thanksgiving...be thankful that you don't work where I work.

There's a slug in my tub.

2009-11-16T06:38:00.000-08:00

"Home is where your history begins. Home is where they catch you when you fall." ~Where the Heart Is

A couple of weeks ago when I heard about two job openings...one in Wilmington and one in Charlotte...I thought, "Surely this is meant to be." I want to move home. I've been in CA for about 5 years now, I've been almost everywhere there is to go and I've done almost everything there is to do...Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, the Muir Woods, San Francisco, Sausalito, Monterrey, Nappa, Sonoma, Santa Cruz, San Jose, Oakland, L.A., Vegas, San Diego, Mexico and a bunch of places in between. I used to spend my weekends taking off to a new town, a new tourist attraction, in search of discovery in the wild west. After a while, the trips became less and less frequent. The weekend adventures turned into house-cleaning, errand running, domestic duty obligations.

I don't need to live in Northern California to stay home and vacuum my living room. I can do that anywhere.

Anyways, two jobs...both in North Carolina. My parents live in Charlotte. My brother lives in Wilmington. My mom and dad went so far as to say they'd buy me a house if I moved home. That's a pretty enticing offer and it certainly sweetened the deal a little. I think they just really wanted a ready-made house/pet sitter for when they jet off to Europe, or they legitimately want me back in NC that badly...either way, Charlotte was my first choice. Not to mention, three of my really good friends from growing up live there now...two members of the posse and one of my college roommates.

Then there was Wilmington. The sleepy little town that I couldn't wait to move away from. I swore it was too small and restrictive...I needed much more space for my overstated, larger-than-life ideas to roam free. I lived in Wilmington from 3rd-8th grade and then moved about 15 miles north to a little town called Hampstead for highschool. I left that area when I was 18 so it's been 10 years since I've spent any significant amounts of time there. The idea of moving back made me a little apprehensive. It's changed so much Had the town I couldn't wait to escape from years ago forgotten about me as well? Still, I found excitement in the prospect of reconnecting with old friends, and making some new...rediscovering the place I called home once upon a time.

So needless to say, the stage was set. Two jobs in two places I could see myself living...two jobs doing what I know I'm good at doing. It seemed (almost) perfect, like it was divine timing intervening to lead me back east.

Now let me state my disclaimer for the record: I knew I wasn't guaranteed one of the jobs...I'm not owed anything nor do I think that just because I have family in NC, the two potential employers should look more favorably upon me...however...I really felt like at least one of them was going to pan out. Not to toot my own horn, but when it comes to radio I know what I'm doing. I've done mornings, middays, I've been a music director, news/traffic reporter, I know production, Selector, how to write compliance letters, can do PSA's, I get good numbers and as long as you don't make derogatory religious comments, I tend to get along with everyone.

Well, this has all been a lot of build up to letting you know that I didn't get either job. And to add insult to injury, I found out that I had been passed over for both jobs on the same day. Listen, the job in Charlotte went to a girl who is more than qualified to do the job. She's worked in Philadelphia (market #8) and Portland (market #23). Her name is Kelly, she starts November 30th and I'm sure she's great. I don't know these things because I've stalked her, by the way...it was published on All Access (a website for radio people). So the job in Charlotte, the one I really wanted, went to someone else...but at least I lost to someone who's good...scratch that...better than me. I can accept defeat when it comes by way of someone with more experience.

The job in Wilmington is the one that really stung; like a Portuguese Man o' War. The girl they put on the morning show is nothing short of the equivalent of 10,000 nails on a chalkboard plus ten nasal New Jersey crack whores in a verbal smackdown mixed with fog horns and a thousand alley cats in heat. Their show should now come with a warning: Caution, listening to this show will make your ears bleed. I mean, maybe she's not that bad...I just know that when I was home about a month ago for Greta's wedding I heard her do a live break from a club and I thought it was a joke. Now she's on the morning show. But she's 20-years-old and has blonde hair...shocker.

So no moving home for me...at least, not yet. I'm trying to look at the bright side, the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel. I mean, I get to go see Twilight New Moon on Wednesday night, which doesn't open in theaters until Friday. That's kind of exciting...I guess.

Other than that, I can't think of much else to tell you besides that it's really cold this morning.

Also, there was a slug in my tub this morning.

Ayo Technology.

2009-11-09T07:22:00.000-08:00

Here's something interesting. Our radio station is located in the middle of a concrete jungle. We're about 2 miles from downtown Sacramento and we're surrounded by other industrial establishments...Interstate Plastics...Dome Printing and Publishing...a junkyard...you get the idea. There are no farms. There are no pastures or areas conducive to raising farm animals. So of all of the random animals that could have shown up in our parking lot, and are subsequently now declaring it their turf...no, not a stray cat...not a rabbit...but a rooster and a hen.

This morning we had a stand-off.

The problem with having them in our parking lot is that they hover by our back door like, "let us in, bitches." At 4:45 in the morning when I'm half asleep and clumsily trying to find my way from my car to the door at work, I don't expect them to be blocking the door. Not only do they scare the shit out of me, but they are mean little fuckers and they make noise at me when I try to shoo them away.

It's probably our own faults. We feed them and give them water. We've evern built them a makeshift chicken coop out of a cardboard box and some hamster cage shavings. I can't help it...I have a bleeding heart for animals. Now they rule the roost...in fact, when I pulled in this morning I'm pretty sure I heard them listening to Run This Town by Jay-Z, Rihanna and Kanye. We've even named them. Cledus and Shirley. Cledus doesn't treat Shirley well but she's loyal to him.

Anyways...

A lot has happened in the past 3 and a half weeks. I mean, a lot. I guess I should back up a little to the week before my birthday. Now, I'm not trying to play the "woe is me" card because I realize that there comes a time when you (i.e. me) have to stop expecting people to make a big deal out of your (my) birthday. While I recognize that I am past the big "milestone" birthdays, I still expect a select few individuals to, at least, acknowledge when it is. In Northern California I have 4 good friends...these are people I hold to a higher standard than other people in my life. I understand that they all have their own lives and nobody is perfect...people forget things sometimes...that's fine. But the 4 people I am close with, I expect to remember.

I'll make a long story short and just tell you that 3 of the 4 close friends I have out here...forgot. That's 75% of my good friends. Nevermind the fact that social networks like Facebook make it virtually impossible to miss friends' birthdays. In fact, I had friends from middle school (who I haven't seen or talked to you in years) acknowledge that it was my birthday and went out of their way to "write something on my wall" which is a Facebook term for those of you living under a rock.

I'm not going to lie, it hurt my feelings.

I spent my 28th birthday (a Friday night) watching a Lifetime movie with my dogs. And somewhere in the midst of feeling sorry for myself and recognizing that I have no life...in between Part 1 and Part 2 of "The Two Mr. Kissel's" starring John Stamos...I decided that it's time to officially quit California. I've been thinking about it for a year now.

I've applied for two jobs in North Carolina and Friday I had a great conversation with potential employer #1. In just under 20 minutes he seemed to have definitively made up his mind about me (which is either a really, really good sign or a really, really bad sign). Potential employer #1 is a job in Wilmington, NC. I haven't lived in that area for 10 years now...going back would be strange, but that's where my brother and sister-in-law are so it might not be that bad.

Potential employer #2 is in Charlotte. I don't want to jinx myself by making assumptions about either of the possibilities so I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens.

I also recently lost my cell phone. Not a good feeling when you don't have a home phone and your cell phone is your only means of communication. I dropped it in the parking lot at Trader Joe's...apparently...and some good samaritan gave it to a manager who then attempted to call every contact in my contacts. He finally got a hold of my friend Jenny in Seattle and she sent me a message on Facebook. Right before I was getting ready to go on a panic-stricken wild goose chase, trying to retrace my steps from the day before...I got an e-mail from Jenny that she had talked to the manager at Trader Joe's and he informed her my phone was waiting safely at their store for me to come pick it up.

Whew. The power of technology. I could have spent all day scavenger hunting my way around Sacramento looking for my phone...but one Facebook message and the problem was solved! Amazing.

Not so much.

2009-10-16T10:56:00.000-07:00

My birthday is one week from today. I'm normally really excited about birthdays but not so much this year. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot to look forward to and things are good...generally speaking...it's just the thought of turning 28 and not being anywhere near where I thought I'd be. I mean, I always assumed that sometime between 28 and 30 I'd be starting to think about having kids and starting a family. I know it's nothing to panic over and things will unfold for me exactly as they should...but still. Sometimes it's hard to find comfort in that which you have no control over.

In fact, if I'm being completely honest...sometimes I look at people with passionless marriages and unruly kids (people I know very well) and I think to myself, "thank God that's not me." I stopped at the mall the other day and as I got out of my car I locked eyes with a woman about my age (give or take a year). She was unloading a stroller from the trunk of her SUV and I could hear her kids screaming from the backseat...she looked at me like she was envious of me...like she couldn't remember the last time she was able to just get out of her car and go inside without the routine of loading and unloading a car full of kids and crap. I was relieved that I didn't have those "things" to worry about...and I felt bad for her.

On the other hand, I want what I think everyone ultimately wants...the handsome husband, a couple of crumb snatchers and a golden retriever. (It actually makes me laugh to admit that). Why is it funny? Am I that pessimistic? Or is it now that much of a stretch, the idea is almost comical? I'll have to think about that one for a while...

I'm starting to depress myself. Moving on.

I went home this past weekend for my friend's wedding. I know I was a little worried about going "home" and what it would be like. Besides the insane humidity (which apparently, I had completely forgotten about) I had a really good time...my hair, though...not so much. I managed to make it all around town in my sister-in-law's very expensive Mercedes without wrecking it AND I got to see a lot of my old friends. Oh, and how could I forget my run-in with the late great Michael Jackson (see picture below).

Anyways, today was picture day at work. Ugh. So you mean to tell me that I have to get up an hour earlier than the already-obscene time I normally get up to blow dry my hair and put on makeup? Oh, instead of 4:00 I'll just get up at 3:00...no problem...that'll be fun. Nevermind the fact that I was at the Jamie Foxx show until 11:00 (not by choice) last night. Am I having a great day so far? Not so much...

Celebrity Encounter at RDU

2009-10-12T07:55:00.000-07:00

I am happy to report that Michael Jackson is alive and well at the Raleigh-Durham International Airport.

Homeward Bound

2009-10-05T07:47:00.000-07:00

I'm heading to NC in three days. This will be the first time I've gone "home" in almost two years. I've been to my parents new house at Lake Wylie, but home home is Wilmington and I haven't been there since my brother got married in November of 2007. It's always strange for me to go back. It's changed a lot...there are new roads and buildings that weren't there when I was growing up. Sometimes I forget how to get from place to place and driving by the house I grew up in makes me sad. I don't know who lives there now...all I know is that they cut down the big tree outside of my bedroom window and took down my brother's old Carolina basketball goal. Generally it feels like the place I called home for so long, forgot about me a long time ago. This adds to an uncomfortable familiarity. I might drive by something that triggers a memory...the Amoco on College Rd. where Hannah and I would ride our bikes in 5th grade without our parents permission...Hugh McRae Park where my brother and I played on little league teams for years...the Bridge Tender where my friends and I went to dinner before prom when I was in the 10th grade.

Anyways, the point is that it's kinda weird for me to go back. But one of my really good friends is getting married there this weekend so I'm coming home. I'll be staying with my brother and his wife while in Wilmington. I know I don't talk about him all that much on here...we're not as close as we used to be. He's married and I live in California. Life gets busy and thus, we've kinda drifted apart. My brother lives in a neighborhood called Landfall. It's very pretentious and there are all kinds of rules. Last time I tried to go to his house I got stopped by the guard at the gate and he wouldn't let me in because I didn't have a visitor's pass. Whatever.

My brother used to own a bar in Wilmington called The Dirty Martini...of all his business ventures, the Dirty was my favorite because I could take my friends there and we'd all get free drinks all night long. It made me feel like a pimp. He sold the bar a few years back. He and his business partner Tom Reeves also owned a restaurant called Salty's. Now he owns a commerical real estate investment company. My brother is a pilot, entrepreneur, social guru, and (someday) politician...I'm guessing he'll be the mayor of Wilmington because it seems like he knows everyone. I call him the Donald Trump of our family.

My brother's wife is an ex-NFL cheerleader. Enough said.

And then there's me. The one with the inappropriate sense of humor who marches to the beat of her own drum and lives recklessly, with wild abandon. The one who throws up gang signs in pictures to be obnoxious (my mom does not approve) and wears flip flops almost every single day of the year (also something my mom does not approve of).

I don't know why I just went off on that tangent. I'm a little off today. Starbucks messed up my order this morning. I don't even remember why I started this post in the first place...probably just to talk about heading to Wilmington this weekend...and why it's weird for me. So we'll move on...

In other news, I have discovered the downside to living in a really old house...it is FREEZING cold in the mornings. I woke up yesterday morning and, no joke, it was probably 55 degrees in my house. My poor dogs had the coldest little noses.

I have to get back to work. That's all for today.

Testing, testing.

2009-09-29T15:02:00.001-07:00

If my day yesterday was a test...I'd say I probably got a C...maybe a C+. Don't get me wrong, I strive for A days but I inherited my mother's peppery disposition which, at times, gets the best of me.

It started with a letter that came in the mail...a notice of filing unlawful detainer complaint...an eviction notice, if you will. Basically, I'm being evicted from a house that I moved out of on August 15th. I called the attorney's office representing the Federal National Mortgage Association FOUR TIMES to let them know that I had vacated the premises well within the 90 days I was given...no return phone call...and then all of a sudden, an eviction notice in the mail...which the post office had to FORWARD to my NEW ADDRESS because I don't live in the foreclosed property anymore.

I tried calling the attorney's office for a 5th time and finally got a receptionist on the phone who told me that she's "not allowed to take messages."

"What do you mean you're not allowed to take messages?" I asked.

She said that that's why they have a voice mail system.

"But I've left 4 messages and nobody will call me back...and your firm is trying to evict me from a house I don't live in...and I want the case dismissed immediately so I need to talk to someone. If I can't get anyone on the phone then I suggest you go get a piece of paper and write down what I'm about to say because I'm taking notes on my end, including names and dates, and I'd hate to have to involve you in this if it turns ugly...do you really want to have to come to court and explain to a judge why you refused to comply with a simple request? Seriously, take the message." (Thanks for the gusto, mom)

She wound up taking my message and within an hour, someone called me back.

The whole situation is almost completely taken care of. I swear to God, if I get another detainer in the mail I'm going to drive down to San Diego and go postal on a). the receptionist and b). everyone else who works there.

So that was test 1. Test 2 came from my "antagonistic coworker" and by now, you should know who I'm talking about...it's pretty obvious if you've read any of my previous posts. We were in the middle of commercials when he decided to start talking about the Bible's reference to the "end of days." His comments were sparked by the story in the news about the 16 year-old in Chicago who was beaten to death...I won't quote him directly because what he said was pretty offensive. I guess I just thought that after the WWWord e-mail incident (explained in an earlier post) that it was pretty clear we shouldn't be talking about religion at work. It has nothing to do with the jobs that we do and it's not necessary. Everyone knows, at this point, that I'm the odd man out...that I don't share the same beliefs...can't we just kinda agree to disagree? His comments weren't even about Judaism. They had to do with homosexuality...you can see where this is going, right?

Anyways, I bit my tongue. I sat there silently all the while wanting to blurt out, "What ever happened to live and let live? If you really feel so adamantly against the way other people live their lives then, according to the Bible, it's not your place to judge. Stop worrying so much about things that don't have anything to do with you." His comments frustrated me so much that I had one of my little daydream/fantasies about quitting my job on the spot. Literally. Sometimes I spend hours at a time, about how good it would feel to walk into my boss' office and quit the bitch. In my head, I imagine mass hysteria erupting in our office as the word spreads, "OMG she just walked into his office and closed the door and very calmly told him that today would be her last day...WHAT HAPPENED?" Oh, the rumors. Why did she do it? Where is she going? Who will replace her?

I know it's not normal fantisize about that day you get to tell your company to suck it...I just can't help it...I find myself, almost daily, asking:

Why am I wasting my time dealing with an idiot? And more importantly, how stupid can he be? Did he not learn the first time that he should keep his narrow-minded comments to himself? But like I said, I sat there silently...it wasn't worth arguing with him.

My test yesterday included two other minor incidents. Hopefully those will blow over, I don't think they were that serious, but I could be wrong.

Aside from the aforementioned tests, things have calmed down quite a bit. I went to my partner's wedding out in Folsom. He got married at The Lake Natoma Inn. I participated in a little charity event. I started planning our family vacation next year...my dad wants to go to Alaska which should be interesting...and I told him I'd take care of planning/arrangements so that he doesn't have to go through a travel agent. Turns out, it's a little trickier than I thought.

That's all I got for now.

The WORLD WIDE web.

2009-09-18T07:06:00.000-07:00

I couldn't be 100% positive, but I'm pretty sure I wore the exact same outfit to work yesterday that I'm currently wearing. What do you want from me? I get up early and this morning my brain could not comprehend whether the clothes on the chair beside my bed were clean or dirty. So I put them on in my sleepy stupor...only to get to work and realize that I had made the wrong decision. Whatever.

This past week has been incredibly busy. First, I got my ass handed to me by a no-name comedian. I can't say his name because I suspect that he has one of those Google alert things where everytime his name is typed/written/published on the internet, he gets an e-mail with a link directly to the site...but I can tell you that his initials are M.M. and don't worry, even if I told you his name you probably wouldn't know who he was.

Here's what happened:

It was bound to happen. T.J. has been warning me for quite some time now that if I didn't start being more careful about naming names in my blogs that eventually someone would find out about it. She was right. It all started about a year ago. These were in my Myspace days, when I was even dumber than I am now and decided to write blogs on THE most public forum I could think of.

We had a guy come on the show...a comedian...and he was a dick. I get that sometimes offensive humor is part of their shtick. But I also know the difference between when you're joking and when you're not...and believe me, I can take a joke...as I have been the butt of many jokes. So when you come on the show and you're blatantly rude, I don't think it's funny.

Anyways, after he left I wrote a Myspace blog about him. I used his name. What I didn't know at the time is that he was going to find out about it...and read it...and wait an entire year before confronting me about it.

Yesterday he was booked on the show because he's in town doing stand-up this weekend (big hint) in a town not too far from Sacramento. I had long forgotten about the blog and decided that I'd be polite and cordial even though I remember, all too well, what happened the last time he came.

We do the interview, everythign seems fine. He's being very nice. As it's wrapping up I started thinking to myself, maybe I was wrong about him...he's being so cool. Then he did something a little strange.

He said, "You're not wearing glasses anymore. I like the look."

I said, "Yeah I got lasik about a year ago...wow, you have a good memory."

Then he goes, "Oh yeah, I remember...you're from North Carolina and you lived in Modesto for a while...see? I pay attention. I don't forget those things. I also read what you wrote about me on your blog."

Me: nervous laughter. "Ummmm, what?"

MM: "It was something like, how I'm an asshole that nobody's ever heard of...."

Picture a deer in headlights. My inner (panicked) dialogue: Shit, shit, shit. T.J. was right. It's all coming back to bite me in the ass. Right here, right now. He's going to lay the smack down and make me cry. My first instinct was to play dumb and deny, deny, deny. Clearly that wasn't going to work. He could all but recite my post back to me word for word.

Me: "I'm sorry about that. You have every right to be upset and it wasn't cool of me to do. I mean, I remember writing something I just don't remember exactly what I said so I apologize."

I guess he kind of accepted my apology. He didn't really have a choice. He could, in that moment, spit in my face or make amends. I mean, I feel like it was more of a "I'm going to confront you to let you know that I read your blog and think you're a bitch" move than a real "clear the air" effort because it's not like we're good friends or anything but I do appreciate that he was direct and called me on it, without being disrespectful. He made me add him as a friend on Facebook...it could be a trap...but hopefully it's water under the bridge.

Part of me was like, why does he even care enough about what I have to say enough to address it? I'm a nobody. But then I realized that he takes his career very seriously...and if someone...anyone...has something negative to say then he's not going to ignore it. I can appreciate that.

My morning show partner told me (after MM left) that having a comedian call me out for something I wrote about him on my Myspace blog upped my "bad ass" factor but I actually felt kinda bad about the whole thing. I guess this is a lesson learned...it's called the WORLD WIDE web for a reason.

PS - I tried to find the blog I wrote about him so I could immediately remove it from my Myspace page...and guess what, I can't find it!

Don't take it personal.

2009-09-16T17:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was not a good day. First, I noticed that I lost one of my five blog subscribers. That means 20% of my reading audience jumped ship! Damnit.

And while that hurts, it's not as bad as what I'm about to tell you. For the past couple of weeks I've been struggling with the decision to try to self-publish The Reusables or to try to get representation. From what I gather, there are pro's and con's to both sides. Self-publishing is expensive and without any experience in this department, you leave the door wide open to making the wrong decisions about everything from picking a printing company to marketing your product...and that's only if you get the funding you need to the project off the ground. But, when you self-publish you have complete creative control. You pick your illustrator. You keep all of the profits. You also assume a much greater risk than if you have someone in your corner pitching to major publishing companies...those same companies who will not accept unsolicited material unless it is submitted by a reputable agency.

Working with an agent ensures that the right people see your work and while you don't get to make as many of the decisions, you know that they will pick only the highest-quality professionals who will help make your work as marketable as possible. The downside, of course, is that even if they convince a big publishing company to get on board there's no guarantee you'll be successful. When you go this route, you get something like 15% proceeds from the sale of your book...and 15% of your 15% goes to your agent...so unless you're selling millions of units, you're not making very much.

Still, most people say that working with an agent is the way to go. Unfortunately, convincing someone to represent you is an uphill battle in and of itself. Agencies require query letters (a sales pitch) before they'll extend an invitation for you to submit your manuscript. Some agencies will allow you to include a sample of your work...but really, it's all about the presentation.

To date, I've written 11 query letters. I took the time to research each agency and personalize each letter I sent because you only have one chance to make a first impression. I spent hours...and hours...and hours on them.

Yesterday I got my first two rejections.

Listen, I'm not naive about this. I know that I might have to go through an awful lot of no's before I finally get a yes. It might not ever happen. Rejection is part of the game. I KNOW this to be the reality of the situation at hand. That being said, I guess deep down I was hoping that my letter...the query I spent so much time on...would be so attention grabbing...and so compelling...that the first agent to read it would immediately jump at the opportunity to take on my project for fear of losing it to someone else.

That didn't happen.

Rejection #1 came yesterday morning from the Heacock Literary Agency. Whomp, whomp, whomp:

At present, we are regretfully going to pass by the opportunity to consider your work for representation. The query must strike a chord which leads us to believe that we will not only resonate deeply with the material but also will be successful in selling it in the current market conditions. Out of necessity, we are frequently forced to pass by material which shows potential. We recognize that in doing so we miss opportunities to represent fine and worthwhile material, but we also trust that if you persist you will eventually connect with the right agent at the right time for your success.

Of all the agencies I researched, this was the one I felt the most strongly about. I really thought that if I got a positive response from any of the agencies, it would be them. Wrong.

Rejection #2 wasn't far behind the first. It came yesterday afternoon. This one was a little more direct:

Thank you for your query. Unfortunately, I did not connect enough with the description of your book to want to see more. I wish you the best of luck in finding the right representation.

Here's the problem. I take rejection personal. I always have. I can't help it. And it's only compounded by the fact that my writing is the most personal thing in the world to me. Up until recently, I never let people read anything I wrote. It was embarrassing. Blogs are one thing...but the rest...forget it.

The other agencies I sent query letters to, say that it might take up to 12 weeks to receive a response. Some even say that if you don't get a response within three months then you should just assume they're not interested in representing you. Oh ok, thanks...that helps. So yesterday I lost one of my few blog subscribers, got rejected...twice...and realized that this might be what I'm in for over the next couple of months. Fantastic.

The moral of this story is that I know I have to stop taking everything to heart. I think I care too much sometimes...not just about The Reusables, but about everything. I care if I get a piece of hate mail at work, I care if someone is mad at me, I care if someone's feelings get hurt...you get the idea.

In the words of Monics: Just one of them thangs, Don't take it personal...

Case in point.

2009-09-14T20:07:00.000-07:00

This hasn't been my month for blogging. It's either becuase I've been uninspired or nothing even remotely interesting has happened to me that would be worth writing about. As I sit here, I really don't have anything to say...but there's nothing on TV tonight besides America's Got Talent, which I don't find the least bit interesting, and The Way We Were which stands, to date, as one of the most devastating movies I've ever seen...move over Schindler's List.

I've spent the past couple of weeks hosting and judging the California State Karaoke Championships at the CA State Fair. I totally gave this one guy extra points for singing Amazed by Lonestar because he looked like Dennis Quaid...who I think is a total sweet potato and DILF...even though he wasn't the best singer. So what if I gave him a few extra points for being sexy? Whatever. The best person wound up winning the whole thing anyways. I had never seen people take karaoke so seriously. It was a $5,000 cash prize (cue the seriousness) and the winner advanced to the regionals in Seattle...ultimately hoping to get to the national level of competition.

I also threw my back out over Labor Day weekend. I tried picking up a big box full of books because it had been sitting on my living room floor since my move and I haven't tracked down a bookshelf that I can tolerate yet so I just wanted to put the box in one of my guest room closets to get it out of the way. I didn't realize how bad it was at first, I mean I definitely felt it when I tried to pick the box up...but I didn't fall to the ground in pain or anything. Once I determined that moving the box by myself was, indeed, a bad idea I decided to go take a nap. It wasn't until I woke up from the name Monday afternoon that I thought, "Oh shit...this is bad."

Ready for this to go from an uninteresting story to totally tasteless and wildly inappropriate? It's my forte, what can I say? So Monday night my back started to hurt pretty bad. I popped a couple of Tylenol and called it a night.

When I woke up Tuesday morning I didn't think I was going to be able to get out of bed because I couldn't move...literally. I almost started crying because I had to pee so bad I thought I was going to wet the bed. I couldn't even sit up. I wound up having to kinda roll out of bed to avoid trying to stand up...I crawled into the bathroom on all fours...very slowly...and somehow figured out how to pull myself up. Forget trying to wipe my own ass...it was torture. It took me 20 minutes to do what should have taken me 30 seconds to take care of. Getting dressed was a whole different story. Forget it. I thought I was going to have to call-in sick to work because I couldn't put my clothes on.

Lo and behold I made it through the day. Jay gave me some Vicodin to take which eased the pain but made me feel drunk. I almost fell asleep behind the board during my midday show and because I hadn't eaten anything all day, the pain medication also made me feel incredibly nauseas. Fun day.

Throwing your back out = all bad.

This past weekend was our station's 5th annual Tamales Festival. I was supposed to be in NY for the MTV VMA's...don't get me started on that story. I might get violent. Having to settle for working 9 hours on a Sunday, at a stupid festival, when you're supposed to be in NYC at an awards show is like being told that you won a head-to-toe makeover with a world renowned plastic surgeon but you show up and they tell you that all you're getting is a pap smear. Really? And I'm supposed to pretend like I'm having fun running up on stage every 5 minutes to announce that yet another child is wandering around looking for his/her parents.

At least tomorrow is Tuesdays with the Mayor. I always look forward to it because even though I rarely agree with his politics...we all just hang out and shoot the shit for an hour or so. I forget that he's an ex-NBA superstar and the Mayor of Sacramento because he really is a down-to-Earth, nice, respectful person. And he helped my Carver kids with their California Voices project a few months back...so he gets extra points for that too. When he comes in, he's always accompanied by his two "handlers." They're like his personal assistants, I would guess. They make me laugh because they are so invasive. Our mayor is such a pimp that he also has is own driver who waits for him outside in a black SUV (tinted windows, of course).

He (the mayor) always asks me about entertainment stories because I get the impression he has NO idea what goes on outside of Sacramento and I can't help but think...what if, someday, he goes to do more and be more than just the Mayor of Sacramento? Listen, I'm not saying he's going to be the next President of the United States...but I'd love to look back and have all of these stories to tell about the time I explained to Kevin (that's what he told me to call him after I repeatedly addressed him as Mayor Johnson) all about the Eric Dane, Rebecca Gayheart, Carrie Ann Prejean Gray's Anatomy sex tape scandal!!!!!

Anyways, I need go get in bed. It's only 9:10 but I like to read before I fall asleep. I'm an old lady, what can I say? And I'm a slow reader so I need at least an hour to make any significant headway. Otherwise it would take me years to finish a book. The current novela is "Official Book Club Selection" by Kathy Griffin and I highly recommend it...very entertaining, I've also become an obsessive hand-washer in my old age...but it isn't so bad that I carry hand sanitizer with me everywhere I go...yet...and I've also been getting really bad about going off on tangents...case in point.

The Falling Man

2009-09-11T07:41:00.000-07:00

I was a sophomore at UNC on September 11, 2001. I was asleep in my dorm room (class didn't start until 11:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays) when the phone started ringing.

I was so disoriented when I answered.

Sleepily, "Hello?"

My friend Rebecca was on the other end. She asked me if I was watching the news. At the time, I thought it was a ridiculous question. Why would I be watching the news at 9:00 in the morning?

I remember stammering (with a slightly annoyed tone...to let her know she had just woken me up) "Ummmmmm, no...why?"

"Holy shit. Just get up and turn the TV on" she said.

"What?" I asked, still very confused, but sensing that something big was going on.

She was adamant. "Get up and turn your TV on."

I remember watching the news for hours. My heart pounded and everything else in the world ceased to exist. I didn't go to class. I couldn't move. I felt so powerless as I sat on the concrete floor of my room repeating over and over again, "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God"

I remember when my suite-mate (a Carolina lacrosse player from NYC) was escorted into her room by three people I had never seen before. She was hysterical...screaming and crying in a complete state of panic because her dad worked in the Twin Towers and she was unable to get anyone on the phone who could confirm his whereabouts. She thought her dad was dead. Later I would learn that the three people were psychologists who spent the whole day trying (unsuccessfully) to console her until she finally got the call that her dad had been out of town on business at the time of the attacks. He was fine.

I'll never forget the sound of her uncontrollable sobbing while the news reports came in with pieces of information about what had happened. And I still get chills when I think about being in NYC with my friend Graham on August 25th...about two and a half weeks before September 11th. We were on our way home from a summer camp we had worked at for 10 weeks in upstate NY. We had stopped to visit a friend who lived in Brooklyn (a Pratt student) who had also been one of the counselors. He had promised that if we stopped to visit him on our way back to NC that he'd take us to this huge block party like the ones I had seen on the TV show Brooklyn Bridge...a show my dad used to LOVE that came on in the early '90's. Sure enough, the block party was exactly like I had imagined. Parents and grandparents sat in lawn chairs along the street, kids rode their bikes, there was food and music and it definitely had the "old NY" feel to it.

Now that it's been 8 years, I realize that as much as I thought I knew about the events that took place on September 11th, there's still so much I've yet to learn.

Before today I had never heard of "The Falling Man." When one of my partners mentioned a documentary that has been made about him this morning I decided to do a little research. I Googled him. What I read about The Falling Man is, perhaps the most powerful thing I've learned about 9/11 since it happened. For those of you, like myself, who don't know (or didn't know) his story...check this out:

Do you remember this photograph? In the United States, people have taken pains to banish it from the record of September 11, 2001. The story behind it, though, and the search for the man pictured in it, are our most intimate connection to the horror of that day.

By: Tom Junod

In the picture, he departs from this earth like an arrow. Although he has not chosen his fate, he appears to have, in his last instants of life, embraced it. If he were not falling, he might very well be flying. He appears relaxed, hurtling through the air. He appears comfortable in the grip of unimaginable motion. He does not appear intimidated by gravity's divine suction or by what awaits him. His arms are by his side, only slightly outriggered. His left leg is bent at the knee, almost casually. His white shirt, or jacket, or frock, is billowing free of his black pants. His black high-tops are still on his feet. In all the other pictures, the people who did what he did -- who jumped -- appear to be struggling against horrific discrepancies of scale. They are made puny by the backdrop of the towers, which loom like colossi, and then by the event itself. Some of them are shirtless; their shoes fly off as they flail and fall; they look confused, as though trying to swim down the side of a mountain. The man in the picture, by contrast, is perfectly vertical, and so is in accord with the lines of the buildings behind him. He splits them, bisects them: Everything to the left of him in the picture is the North Tower; everything to the right, the South. Though oblivious to the geometric balance he has achieved, he is the essential element in the creation of a new flag, a banner composed entirely of steel bars shining in the sun. Some people who look at the picture see stoicism, willpower, a portrait of resignation; others see something else -- something discordant and therefore terrible: freedom. There is something almost rebellious in the man's posture, as though once faced with the inevitability of death, he decided to get on with it; as though he were a missile, a spear, bent on attaining his own end. He is, fifteen seconds past 9:41 a.m. EST, the moment the picture is taken, in the clutches of pure physics, accelerating at a rate of thirty-two feet per second squared. He will soon be traveling at upwards of 150 miles per hour, and he is upside down. In the picture, he is frozen; in his life outside the frame, he drops and keeps dropping until he disappears.

The Wonderful World of Dating.

2009-09-01T17:28:00.000-07:00

Wanted to get one in before the end of the month...almost made it.

August kicked my ass.

That being said, I figured I'd start September strong.

I went on a date Sunday night. I know, I know...Sunday is an odd choice. Here's what happened: this past weekend I was hell-bent on getting the rest of my stuff from my old house. I got up Saturday morning and went over to Yaana's to see her new place and catch up a little before heading over to the house. While we were hanging out she told me about meetup.com - a website where you can find people with similar interests...then you join their group and go do things together. She knew that I had been looking for a writer's group and suggested that I check it out.

When I got home that afternoon, I logged on and decided to start my own group...I called it Transplants...for people who moved to Sacramento from other parts of the country. Almost instantly I got an e-mail saying that someone had joined my group. Perfect. His name was Elliot and he was 26 years old. I had set up a bounce-back message to anyone who joined the group saying, "Thanks for joining...looking forward to meeting you...if you can't make it to the first outing, let me know what days/times work best for you...blah, blah, blah."

He sent me an e-mail back within a couple of minutes. He said that he wasn't sure if he could make the first outing...had just started law school at McGeorge...didn't know anyone in the area yet...and at the end of his message he signed it, "Shalom." Now, I'm not a very diligent Jew but I do know what that means. So I e-mailled him back. Instead of beating around the bush, I went straight for the kill. The e-mail I sent him read, "Are you Jewish, by chance?" His reply, "Yes."

JACKPOT.

Keep in mind, I've never really had Jewish friends so I was taking this as a sign from up above. I responded with, "Awesome! Me too!"

From there, we wound up as Facebook friends...and all the while I was thinking to myself, maybe this is more than a coincidence. Sure enough, we chatted it up for a while and then he asked if I wanted to get together sometime. Now this is outside of the meetup.com rules because the point of the website is to engage in group acitivities. Whatever. I might have just found a future Jewish attorney and I sure as hell wasn't about to let that oppotunity pass me by. I agreed, but was unable to meet him Saturday night because I had to host the CBS suite at Arco Arena for the circus...yes, you read that correctly...I spent my Saturday night watching elephants take dumps inside Arco Arena. I told him that maybe we could meet up the next day and sure enough, after I finished running errands on Sunday we made plans to get together. Nothing exciting. Coffee. It's casual and safe...just the way I like it.

DISCLAIMER: I am not homphobic in any way. I love the gays. I love, love, love the fabulosity. That being said, I don't want to date a closet gay. The reason I'm telling you this will become important in a minute.

So we meet for coffee. He's cute...funny...and very nice....but the first thing I notice is that he's clearly gay. I'm not going to lie...I felt a little silly...I had shown up under the impression that maybe...just maybe...I was going to meet this young, educated, cute, Jewish, future attorney...we'd hit it off and live happily ever after (a bit of a stretch but you get the idea). When he got there, it seemed so obvious. It wasn't just the way he talked, but his mannerisms, body language, everything...and again, I hate to perpetuate stereotypes but c'mon...when it's obvious, it's obvious.

I thought to myself, Oh ok...he's gay, no big deal. In fact, I was more than excited to meet a new potential BFF who would enjoy watching old episodes of Sex and the City with me. Plus, thinking he was gay totally put me at ease. I was almost relieved that he wasn't someone I was going to have to work overly hard to impress.

He told me that he used to work for Wella (the shampoo/hair company) and that he loved romantic comedies and that one of his favorite pastimes was to sit around drinking coffee and "gossiping." Hello? What was I supposed to think? To me, that's not even metrosexual questionable...that's all the way gay. Nothing wrong with it...at all...like I said, I love the gays!

Then out of nowhere he starts telling me about his ex-girlfriend. At first I thought, maybe he's just not comfortable telling me yet. I nodded along and listened to the story. "She" is in law school in Washington DC. "She" broke his heart. "She" is the only person he's ever really loved. Sometimes he wasn't sure if he'd ever really get over it and move on with his life. I could relate. I had been there. As the night went on, he kept referring to this girl and I kept assuming that "this girl" was actually a guy.

We spent a good three hours talking at the coffee shop. When it was time to go we hugged and promised to hang out again soon. I had really enjoyed his company...and looked forward to our future as besties.

Then came the text messages.

Message One: I had a really good time with you tonight. I'd like to ask you out again and next time it will be a real date. We can go anywhere you want.

Wait, did I miss something?

I texted him back: Thanks...I had fun too. I'd love to hang out again sometime just let me know what works with your schedule bc I know you're going to be super busy with school.

Ready for the kicker?

Message two: I will sexy. Have a good week and get ready for the ride of your life. ;-)

WHAT? I died laughing when I read it and then immediately locked the message on my phone so it will never get deleted...who says that? It was so clearly not a date. It very clearly was a gay guy who is A). in complete denial or B). suppressing the homosexual urges like his life depends on it.

One of my coworkers told me that he probably wants me to be his "beard" (aka: the person he can introduce to his parents as his grilfriend while he gets blowies from other guys on the side). TMI? Sorry, I don't have much of a filter when it comes to discussing these types of topics. It's an interesting thought, but I'm in the market for a man's man. I can handle a little gel in the hair and some manscaping (if you know what I mean) but outside of that, we don't need to compare notes on Jennifer Garner's wardrobe or go get mani/pedi's together...that's what my female friends and gay BFF's are for.

And this, ladies and gentleman, was my reintroduction to the wonderful world of dating. It's good to be back...if for no other reason...than because my luck with men is nothing short of non-existent and that makes for great stories.

Whomp, whomp, whomp.

2009-08-26T07:55:00.000-07:00

Here we go...

I got a call from my promotions director last night. She said that our sales manager had submitted me for a possible endorsement and that they needed some information from me before the deadline (which was last night) so that's why she had to call me after hours. Well of course I got excited...there's no shame in this game...I'd endorse almost anything. Endorsements mean you get free stuff and they send you an extra paycheck every month just for saying that you like their products/services/etc.

Anyways, I was all amped up about a new endorsement...until she said that I probably wouldn't get it because the company is looking for someone over the age of 40. Ok, now I'm no mathematician but last time I checked, there was a big difference between being 27 and being 40. Am I right? I mean, we're talking a good 13 years (which is basically half of my life span up until this point). So why would they even call me and ask me if I'd endorse some kind of new joint-juice-daily-supplement-stuff? Don't get me wrong, I'd drink that shit everyday and tell everyone I knew how great I thought it was...Mmmmm, tastes just like the nectar of the Gods! I never start my day without it and you're gonna LOVE it too! But the point is, if I'm not what they're looking for and we all know I'm not what they're looking for then why call me and ask me 50 questions about my joint health and how many aches and pains I feel after completing streuous activities?

Got me all excited for nothing. Whomp, whomp, whomp.

Adding insult to injury...this morning we were giving away free buy-ins for this big poker tournament we've got coming up. To give the buy-in away we play a game called "Who's Bluffing Something" where we go around the room and each of the 5 members of our morning show says a statement about ourselves. The first person to get through who guesses which of us is bluffing wins. Simple enough.

Side note about me: I was salutatorian in high school...second place...which most people think is a significant accomplishment...excluding my mom who told me that if I had really wanted to be valedictorian (I lost by one one-thousandth of a point) I could have been, and that I obviously didn't want it badly enough. That was almost 10 years ago and no, I will probably never let that one go.

Anyways, this morning was my morning to bluff.

Jay went first: This is Jay and I am related to Bruce Springsteen.

Then me: This is Reagan and I was valedictorian in high school.

Next up, Wayne: This is Wayne and I once delivered a baby in a hospital parking lot.

Charlie: This is Charlie and I've never had coffee in my entire life.

Juan: This is Juan and I cried like I little girl when I met Magic Johnson.

The callers start calling. Keep in mind, only one of us is lying but all of our statements are kinda hard to believe. Right off the bat, someone calls in and instantly starts accusing me of bluffing. So I say, "why do you think I'm the one who's not telling the truth?" To which he replies, "Girl you're doing your thing and all but valedictorians actually go on to make something of their lives...you know what I mean...they're like doctors and lawyers and no disrespect but if you were that smart you wouldn't be doing what you're doing." Ouch. Stung a little but I'm alright. I was a little bitter so I snapped back, "That's funny because I make more money than my good friend who is a practicing attorney." (No offense, T).

I know most people think we're morons with big mouths and even bigger egos...idiots who are called obnoxious and annoying behind our backs...but to hear it put like that, I'm not gonna lie, it bummed me out a little. After I snapped at him I realized how defensive I must have sounded so I started laughing to play it off like I was joking when in reality, I was being dead serious. Granted, he was right...in more ways than one...I wasn't technically the valedictorian in high school but I came really close. If you were to ask my mom she would tell you that I could have been #1 if I had really wanted it. And after taking a brief moment this morning to lick my wound, I've spent the rest of the day wondering if I really am that much of an underachiever. I mean, really? You would believe that Wayne delivered a baby in a hospital parking lot before you would believe that I am a smart person? Really? No seriously, really?

Whomp, whomp, whomp.

Ready for more? Ok, so after we play "Who's Bluffing Something" we had this psychic come on our show. His name is Gary Spivey and my boss thinks he's ridiculous so he's only on once per month. I took the opportunity to ask him, while I had the chance, if I have a ghost in my house. I'm not saying that I'm definitely a believer in the super-natural but I'm also not a non-believer...I kinda feel like "I can't prove they do exist and I can't prove they don't exist." It might sound silly to some but until I see something with my own two eyes or have concrete scientific proof, I remain skeptical...however, I also don't think that people who have experienced paranormal events are lying. Anyways, my house is old. It was built in the 1920's. I love all of the vintage charm...it has real plaster walls, not sheetrock. It has an ironing board built into a kitchen cabinet. It has a mail slot instead of a mailbox that drops my mail straight into my living room and my garage is almost like a mini-farmhouse. I love it. But weird things happen sometimes. For instance, this a pretty decent-sized three bedroom house. The bedroom at the front of the house (facing the street) is a guest room and I keep the door closed so that the dogs don't go in there and crap on the floor. Well, on multiple occasions that door has opened itself and I'm always very careful to pull it tightly shut so that it won't open again...even if something were to push against it...yet somehow it winds up open. The thing is, it never freaks me out or anything. I just kinda figured that if there were a ghost in my house that perhaps he or she was a friendly ghost and didn't like that door being closed.

When I asked Gary about the ghost today I expected him to say, "Oh yeah...there's a ghost in your house but he/she is glad that you're there and wants you to know that you're welcome to stay." Is that what he told me? Oh no, no, no. He said that I have a Linda Blair panic-attack demon ghost in my house who lays down with me in my bed at night!!!!!!!!! WHAT???????? I was like, ummmmm that's really not funny and he said he wasn't joking. For the second time in one day I wasn't really sure how to react so I made a joke...I said, "I thought my room smelled like pea soup the other night." Everyone laughed, but deep down I was more than a little freaked out. I don't think I want to live here anymore...oh well, one more reason to move home.

Whomp, whomp, whomp...again.

Creepy Steve.

2009-08-24T15:21:00.000-07:00

I have to tell you...

I've been following this 'Skanks in NYC' debacle and it's got me more than a little freaked out. If you don't know what I'm talking about, here's the basic gist: some chick named Rosemary Port started an online blog called Skanks in NYC. On her blog, she wrote about this other chick named Liskula Cohen, whom she obviously didn't like. Liskula found out about the blog (probably from Googling herself) and demanded that Google tell her the name of the person writing the blog. At first Google said no...then Kiskula took it to the NY Supreme Court and they made Google give up the bloggers identity. Now, there's an all out cat fight between the blogger and the defamed and it's getting ugly!

As I've been following this story, I can't help but think about my own blog...that which you are reading right now...and what would happen if my coworkers found out about it. That being said, I'm seriously considering putting an end to my online confessions and behind-the-scenes commentary because the last thing I would ever want, is to get fired over some stupid blog...I come here to vent...not to put my job in jeopardy.

Listen, I'm not stupid...this is the WORLD WIDE WEB. It's not the 'only viewable by a select group of people' web. Anyone can read this, and by anyone I mean the people who are directly named as well as the rest of the human population (not that I'm arrogant or presumptuous enough to think that that many people care about what I have to say) but still...in theory...it could happen.

Maybe I should go back to the days of writing it all down, by hand, in a diary...tucked under my mattress or kept in my night stand like I did when I was a teenager. Or maybe I should censor myself more...only talk about things that happen to me outside of work...but then I think, if I did that then this blog wouldn't be what it is...a comprehensive look at my life from my perspective. I'm having a tough time navigating the waters on this one.

While I contemplate what to do...I might as well stay true to who I am and continue to write as I have been...at least for now.

Have I told you about my alcoholic neighbor yet? Didn't think so...

His name is Steve and lives across the street from me. Keep in mind that I've only lived in my new house for 9 days. Steve was the first person I met when I moved in. He told me that he's lived in this neighborhood his whole life (I'd guess he's in his 60's) and he owns an auto-detailing business that he's semi-retired from now. Today when I came home from work I walked my dogs down to the park, which is only a block from my house. When I came back Steve was standing in his front yard with a glass of orange juice. He walked over to meet my dogs and as he approached I could smell the vodka from about 10 feet away. Steve was downing screwdrivers at 1:30 in the afternoon!

He mumbled through most of the conversation, though he was trying to sound coherent, and I found myself inching closer and closer to my front door. I smiled and nodded along for about 15 minutes and after several failed attempts to gracefully excuse myself from the exchange he finally just started walking away from me...mid-sentence. It was very strange. I'm only telling you this because I want you to know where to look first if I go missing. Tell the authorities to check creepy Steve's house...closets, attic, garage, etc.

I've had some interetsing neighbors throughout the years...some have been very nice, some have been quiet, some have been loud and some have been anti-social...but I've never really had the creepy neighbor until now. On second thought, maybe I should be less worried about my coworkers reading this and more concerned with Steve finding out about it!!!

Oh, and before I forget...I've got to tell you the latest and the greatest goings-on with The Reusables. George (from Monkeyfeather Books) is going to have his company make a series of short workbooks (aka: supplemental matierals) based on my outlines and characters that we're going to test in school systems to see if the teachers/kids find them entertaining and educational. Based on the results, we might pursue a slightly different course with The Reusables...where the workbooks will be integrated into the school systems curriculum as part of the "going green" initiative in public schools. These workbooks will be way more interactive than a series of picture books and the kids who use them will do activities in the classroom and at home to reinforce the lessons being taught at school. I can't wait to see the finished product...

At this point, I feel like I have to be open-minded to other ideas even if they are slightly different than what I had originally envisioned. George said that the problem with children's books has always been (and will always be) that they're expensive to print, hard to get shelf space for (espcecially in the big retailers like Borders and Barnes & Noble) and extremely difficult to market. I think that considering all of the possibilities is the quickest way to build a successful brand. His company is putting together the test workbooks this week and we're supposed to have another meeting next week...wish me luck!!!

Two card ritual.

2009-08-23T16:51:00.000-07:00

Today is my dad's birthday. My parents started this ridiculous tradition when I was younger, where each year you have to buy two cards for someone's birthday...one is funny and the other is serious. For as long as I can remember this has been "the rule." Actually, this is my mom's rule...she's the only person I know who can spend an entire afternoon in the Hallmark store, reading card after card, in search of the perfect one (or two). I, on the other hand, am not a believer in spending $4.00 on a piece of paper that I am going to write my name on so that you can then, in turn, throw it away 5 minutes after I give it to you...it's wasteful and unnecessary. And then to double it up...two cards...plus tax...that's almost $10.00 that you might as well flush down the crapper. No thanks. I'd rather donate the money to a charity or buy myself two triple grande non-fat no-whip mochas from Starbucks or put $8.50 worth of gas in my car...I can't help it, I was an economics major in college and I still think of everything in terms of opportunity cost. But the two card tradition means a lot to my mom so I oblige...and let me state for the record, that my mom and dad are the only two people on the face of the planet that I'd participate in this silly ritual for. (Yes, I just ended a sentence with a preposition...deal with it).

So anyways, I got two cards this past week...threw a gift card in that he can use towards the new set of gold clubs that he wants...sent them priority mail to ensure they'd get to Lake Wylie on time...woke up this morning...and called my dad first thing to wish him a happy birthday. He was in the yard doing yard work with my mom when I called. He said that when they finished working outside they were getting cleaned up, going to a fabric store and then to go see Julie and Julia. My poor dad. He is 59 today and my mom has him pulling weeds and fabric shopping and watching lame movies on his birthday! When I got off the phone with him I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for not being there. My brother and his wife (who live in Wilmington) didn't come up for his birthday because they had company in town for the weekend. I wasn't there. And so, of course, I've spent most of the day today thinking about moving back to the east coast.

It comes and goes in waves. On days like today I realize that I can't get any of the time back. I realize that the people who matter most to me are the ones who I should be spending the day with...not talking to on the phone from across the country.

I have a plan.

The wheels are in motion and even though it's not happening as quickly as I'd like it to, I've learned that the universe always has a way of unfolding exactly as it should. For now, I live in Sacramento.

My boss told me last week that he's sending me to New York for the MTV Video Music Awards in September. That should be fun, right? Here's the kicker...Jay and I are supposed to go together since Wayne and Juan went to the Grammy's earlier this year but Jay is terrified of flying AND the VMA's are two weeks before his wedding. So, he said he doesn't want to go which means I have to fly to NY and spend the weekend with Wayne. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this yet. On the one hand, it might do us some good to spend time together outside of work. We've never really so much as attempted to "hang out" or get to know one another because for the most part, we're like oil and water. On the other hand, we don't have the best track record. He once told me he had a "swastika tattooed on his dick" (direct quote) and then he sent me Bible scripture which referred to non-believers as those "headed on a path of destruction." Can you blame me for not wanting to spend a weekend with him?

Here's how I look at it. Last year I went to the Grammy's with the person I was madly in love with. I know this is self-inflicted torture...but I still have the pictures from the Saturday night we spent on the beach in Malibu, drinking wine and watching the sun set. He wrote messages in the sand and I took pictures of them which I had planned on still having someday at our 50th wedding anniversary.

Less than a week after the above pictures were taken, he walked out on me without any explanation.

So this year, maybe I'll go to the VMA's with someone I'm less than thrilled about spending time with and who knows...maybe we'll come back with a newfound respect for one another??? And if not, then I'd be an idiot to let someone (anyone) ruin a cool weekend in NYC.

Other than that, not much else is going on. I'm all moved into my new house. My favorite part, by far, is the sun room:

Other than that, I can't think of much else to tell you. I'm still trying to get The Reusables up and running. I've been playing phone tag with the guy from Monkeyfeather Books for the past couple of weeks now. Patience is the key. Either that, or he's avoiding me like the plague.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Sweet Southern Pearls.

2009-08-12T15:12:00.001-07:00

One of the first things I learned when I moved to California is that a little Southern hospitality goes a long way...especially out here...because people don't expect it. When I get asked what the biggest difference is between Northern Caolifornia and North Carolina, I always tell them that while I love the palm trees out here the people aren't as friendly as where I'm from. I was taught to say yes ma'am and no sir, I went to Cotillion which is kind of like finishing school (for those of you who have never heard of it), I had a shirt that said GRITS: Girls Raised in the South and I learned to shag to "Carolina Girls" by General Johnson and the Chairmen of the Board.

People in my office eat it up when I throw out a "y'all" or a "bless your heart" or a "what in tarnation" and they go ape shit it when I say, "I reckon." As much as I joke about being a sharp-tongued super-bitch who stomps around spewing insults and cutting people down with my razor sharp rhetoric...it's all a facade...an alter ego...it's Reagan...because in reality, Megan is a polite, shy, sweet and well-mannered young woman. (So, that's a little bit of a stretch but I'm trying to make a point here). And don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about...we're all multi-dimensional. I just happen to go by a different name at work so I can get away with calling myself Reagan and not have to worry about my family institutionalizing me for it.

Anyways, the point of all of this is that I'm friendly. I talk to everyone at work...everyone from the receptionist to the big, big, big boss. Well last week we got a memo that this Thursday (tomorrow) there is going to be a little forced corporate bonding so we can all "get to know each other a little better." Keep in mind that we just moved into our new studios and there have been some growing pains between us (the new ones) and the people who have been working in that building for years. So I understand why they're making us do this. It's at a bowling alley. It starts at 3 p.m. and the memo from our big, big, big boss was signed, "Thanks in advance for your participation" which I took to mean, "Get your asses to the bowling alley and make nice."

Fine, I'll go...whatever.

Now this is where the story goes from, "Where is she going with this?" to "Whoa, TMI." I'm warning you in advance, you might not want to read any further.

You've been cautioned.

So, as a female, I've gotten really good at being inconspicuous when I need to take a tampon to the bathroom with me. I wear a long-sleeved shirt. I put my hand in my purse and I slide it up my sleeve so that I can excuse myself to the restroom without anyone knowing what I'm doing. It's way sneakier than if I were to take my entire purse with me...that would be too obvious. This little trick has always worked for me without any problems...until today.

With tampon up sleeve, I was on my way to the bathroom today when my big, big, big boss passed me in the hallway. Of course, I said hello to him and while I should have just kept going I decided to be my overly-friendly self and throw in, "I'm really looking forward to bowling tomorrow!" Criminy Christmas, holy Lord have mercy, why did I just do that? The big, big, big boss then stopped and started up a little conversation about the impetus behind the bowling party...why he thought it was necessary...what he hopes it will accomplish...etc, etc, etc.

I nodded along and agreed with everything he said.

Here's a little side note about me. I talk with my hands quite a bit. I make lots of gestures and motions...especially in the work environment...it's instinctual...although I'm not exactly sure why I do it.

Anyways, as I was making a broad sweeping motion with my hand (because I had apparently forgotten that I had a tampon stuffed up my sleeve) it came flying out...right in front of my big, big, big boss. At first he didn't know what it was...an ink pen maybe? As if this story couldn't get any worse, he bent down to pick it up for me!!!!! I had never moved so fast in my whole life. I practically dove for it. The panic-stricken expression on my face must have completely given it away because he definitely figured out very quickly that it wasn't, in fact, an ink pen...but a big 'ol hunk of cotton that I was getting ready to put up my vag.

Sweet Jesus. Hail Mary.

We both just kind of froze and as he jumped back (probably out of disgust) I snatched it up and took off running down the hallway...calling back over my shoulder, "Yeah so I'll...uhhhh...see you tomorrow at Country Club Lanes!"

Once inside the bathroom, I wanted to DIE. I had all but pegged my big, big, big boss in the face with my tampon! I had just let him know that I'm currently bleeding like a dead animal...I told you this was going to be TMI...but more importantly, I don't know how I'm ever going to face him again.

I can't think of a time when trying to be a polite southern belle has ever been more of an inconvenience (and utter disaster) than it was today. Please, someone save me from myself...bless my heart.

"Carolina Girls...Sweet Southern Pearls."

This side of normal.

2009-08-10T06:46:00.000-07:00

I had a minor freak-out yesterday. As you know by now, I have to move out of my house by Sept. 10th because the owner foreclosed on it. I've also been wrestling with the idea of moving home for quite some time now and I was hoping that, perhaps, the two happenings would coincide with one another but it doesn't look like that's going to work out. I'm not ready to make the move home yet...but I have to move. The problem is that every place I've found so far requires a one-year lease. Well that leaves me with no other option but to sign a one-year lease.

Crap.

Yesterday I bit the bullet and went with a house that's only 1 mile from our studios. I signed a one year lease and coughed up a $2400 deposit. Cue freak-out. As I was driving home it all hit me. I felt so trapped and locked-in. Granted, my contract here is through November of 2010...but still, I hadn't actually planned on staying that long. And while most people are searching for commitment and stability right now, I find the prospect of being here for another year...daunting.

I came to work this morning and told Jay that I had rented another house and how nervous I was about it when he made an interesting revelation. He said, "You don't like to be tied-down to anything do you?"

I was very quick to shoot him down with, "No it's not that. It's just that the house is really old and I've never lived in an older house and what if something happens and I'm in this lease that I can't get out of...what if the people who move into the guest house in my backyard are the neighbors from hell..."

"Exactly," he said. "You want to have the freedom to leave at any time without anything holding you back."

Again I told him that he was wrong, that it was just the house that makes me nervous...that I was having second thoughts about getting a place that was built in the 1920's. There are two houses on the property. The front house (the one I rented) is the main house but the back house is a 2 br/1 ba guest cottage and I don't have any say in who moves into it. Whoever takes it will be living in my backyard. What if it's a disaster? Jay said I'd have reservations about any house I found...and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that he might be right about me. I have so many big ideas and visions of what I want my future to be like. Unfortunately Sacramento isn't part of the equation so knowing, now, that I might have to invest another year here makes me feel uncomfortable.

Not to mention, I'm going to be on my own...living by myself...for the first time ever, really. I've had 19 roommates in the past 10 years. This is where I get a little finicky because as much as I need my space and know it's time to do my own thing, I also don't know if I can handle being all by myself. What if I get lonely? What if I get scared?

And more importantly, what in the hell is the matter with me?

Why can't I just be glad that I have a great job and a super cool new house to live in?

Please don't think I'm completely crazy...I'm not 100% gone yet...there's hope that I'll make it back to this side of normal at some point. I just can't help second guessing everything. Did I pick the wrong house or is there something inherent in my personality causing me to feel uneasy about my decision?

Anyways, enough about that. I went and saw G.I. Joe over the weekend (not by choice) and I have to be honest, I was entertained. I felt like a complete dumb ass when I said...out loud...that I thought G.I. Joe was the name of the main character Army dude. Apparently that's a huge faux pas because the G.I. Joe-ites were offended. While the people in my group were laughing at me, some guy sitting in front of me turned around and schooled me on the history of the Real American Heroes.

I'm now an expert in all things Joe.

We also had Tim Meadows on the show last week. I used to love his Ladies Man character on SNL...so I was excited to hang out with him for the morning. Unfortunately, Tim was upstaged by one of his improv apprentices from Second City...I don't remember his name but he was wearing a shmedium Jazzercise t-shirt and I got a good laugh out of it.

Jay ruined the picture, but you get the idea:

My Tahoe Epiphany

2009-08-02T19:36:00.000-07:00

So nobody likes the bedding I picked out. TJ hates them all and Jenny B said #2 was ok but that the others looked like something you'd see at your grandmother's house. That being said, the search continues.

Today is Wednesday. It has taken me almost three whole days to find the time to sit down and write this. This past week was interesting. First there was the trip to Tahoe...and don't worry...I've got plenty to say about that, then we have the Monkeyfeather update (which is starting to make me nervous) and last, but certainly not least, there's the huge milestone in my life that I've got to tell you all about.

TAHOE: The plan was for everyone to meet in Fair Oaks at 3:00 p.m. Friday afternoon so that we could beat rush hour traffic. I left work at 1:00 and went straight home to pack/let the dogs out. I had the house/pet sitter lined-up, I had my car cleaned out (so I could drive through the mountains with the top down) and I had approximately one hour to get the rest done. I figured that if I left at 2:30, I would make it with a few minutes to spare. Keep in mind, that I only knew one of the other six girls going on this trip so I didn't want to be late because I didn't want them to be sitting around waiting for me...it's not a good first impression. I wound up leaving at 2:40 and was already stressed because my GPS kept giving me an ETA of 3:07.

Like I said, I HATE being late. It doesn't matter if it's work or a movie or anything else...my mom was ALWAYS late to everything when I was growing up so now I make it a point to be on-time, if not early, to wherever I'm going.

I got to Fair Oaks and nobody was at the meeting place except for Katie's sister Jenny P. What? I thought I was a couple of minutes late but apparently, I had somehow arrived first. As I was sitting at Jenny's in-law's house (they were watching Jenny's son Carson so that's why we all met there) I watched the clock tick by...3:30 came and went...3:45 came and went...I started getting slightly annoyed because I realized that I could have taken my time but it wasn't the end of the world. The rest of the group arrived over the next few minutes and we hit the road around 4:15.

To get to Lake Tahoe from Sacramento, you take Hwy 50 east. It's a straight shot. However, Hot August Nights was going on in Reno the same weekend we were going to Tahoe and because of all the road construction on I-80 (which is how you'd get to Reno), there was double the normal amount of traffic on 50. Wonderful.

I drove my car separately because I knew I was going to have to get up Saturday morning and go to Bank of America to get all of my debit card crap taken care of...plus the idea of being stuck with a group of girls in a hotel suite for the weekend without an escape plan made me nervous...like I said before, I only knew one of the prior to the trip.

We finally made it to Tahoe around 6:45 which really wasn't too bad. It was still light outside and the weather was amazing. Once we checked-in, we decided to let Katie open all of her presents before heading to dinner. We were all told to bring Katie lingerie (it was a bachelorette party, afterall) and what I bought for her was...by far...the hottest. All of the other girls bought cotton tank tops with things like "Soon to be Mrs." written on them or some other lame stuff...which is all well and good as I respect the practicality angle...but I decided to get her something that she'll wear for 2.2 seconds before winding up on the bedroom floor and for that reason, I didn't think comfort and/or practicality were all that important.

After the panty party we went to dinner at The Naked Fish...a very trendy sushi restaurant in South Lake Tahoe. It wasn't until we were sitting at dinner, and everyone was talking about the weekend of events, that I started asking myself: When did I become so un-fun? No seriously, what the fuck happened to me? None of what they were talking about sounded remotely entertaining to me but I had to keep reminding myself that this was Katie's weekend, not mine. As we sat there I gave myself a quiet little pep-talk. I said, "Just go with the flow and try to enjoy yourself. If Katie's having a good time, that's all that matters."

Here's a fun fact about me...I'm allergic to avocado...which really sucks because I think it's super delicious...but when I eat it my chest gets tight, I can't breathe and I feel like I'm dying. Sushi restaurants put avocado on almost everything. So when I order sushi, I always have to specifically ask for "no avocado." Well, the group of girls thought it would be easier for us to order as a table instead of individually. I was trying to be a good sport so when the girl ordering asked if there was anything anyone didn't like, I said that I couldn't have avocado but that it wasn't a huge deal for me to just pick it off. I thought she would say, "Oh in that case, why don't you just order your own because everything I'm about to order comes with avocado." That didn't happen.

The sushi came. I picked out as much avocado as I could and thought, perhaps, I'd be ok. WRONG. I ate two pieces of sushi and almost instantly my chest started getting tight and because I felt like I was going into cardiac arrest, I passed on the sake bombs and other alcoholic beverages.

Then the bill came. Listen, I don't think I'm a cheap person...but...I wasn't too keen on paying $50 (my part of the bill) for two pieces of sushi that almost killed me and alcohol I didn't drink. Whatever, it's Katie's weekend.

After dinner, the group wanted to go to Cabo Wabo...my worst nightmare. When I was 19 I would have thought that Cabo Wabo was God's gift to the world. Now that I'm almost 30 I'd rather get a pap smear than spend my Friday night in a cheap well-drink serving, loud and crowded bar full of drunk, horny idiots. Keep in mind, too, my chest is still tight and I'm having trouble breathing...not emergency room worthy or anything...because I only ate a little bit...but I definitely should have gone back to the room and layed down so that I could be still and breathe slowly and deeply. So we're all standing in Cabo Wabo when a group of young(ish) guys decide they are going to "grind" up against us. The girls in my group seemed to be enjoying them so I tried really hard to tolerate it while subtly making my way to the perimeter of the circle. Too bad I backed right into one of them, which he mistook as a cue to start thrusting his pelvis at me. I tried to get around him, but he wasn't having it. Finally, through the pain of my avocado allergy attack and his obscene thrusting, I looked at him and said, "If you jab me in the hip with your hard-on one more time I am going to stab you in the jugular."

That's my sense of humor. I was, very sarcastically, letting him know to back the fuck off. Would you like to guess what he said in response? Go ahead, you'll never guess....

He said, "If you stab me I'll rape you."

WHAT???? I was speechless. Ummm, I know that what I said wasn't that funny (even though in my mind it was) but you threatening to rape me is even not funnier than what I said. I thought, "No, this fucker did not just give me a dose of my own medicine!?!?" I didn't stick around long enough to find out what the outcome of that situation would have been. I excused myself from Cabo Wabo to use the restroom...conveniently located on the casino floor...and while in the bathroom I texted Katie to let her know that I'd be at a Craps table and to come find me when they were ready to leave.

Saturday morning the girls wanted to go to Zephyr Cove but they wanted to leave early because it gets so crowded by 10:00. Well I had to go to Bank of America so I told them I'd meet them down there. For the first (and probably only) time in my life I was relieved when I got to the bank and found that there was only one customer service rep working. I was sixth in line...fine...great...take your time. No hurry. The guy in front of my had a similar story about his card getting stolen so we sat and talked about how annoying it was for almost an hour while the one person working helped the other people in line before us. Despite the night I had had before, I looked around the bank Saturday morning and realized, so this is where all of the good looking men in Northern California are hiding. They were everywhere!

Those who know me, know that I like 'em a little bit older and there was a straight up JFK Jr. who had me drooling...henceforth, I will be hanging out at the Bank of America in South Lake Tahoe every weekend...jk.

I left the bank and went to meet my group at Zephyr Cove but once I got there I called three times, left a message and sent a text, which all went unreturned, so I just hung out by myself for the morning. It was so crowded that there was no way I was ever going to find them. I wound up meeting some really nice people from the Bay area and took a little nap on the beach bfore heading to Harrah's to play some blackjack.

I won over $200. I was happy.

At 5:00 in the afternoon the girls called to let me know that they didn't have any cell reception at the cove and that they were so sorry they had missed my calls. Secretly, I was glad that I had gotten to have some "me time" without them. We all started to get ready in the one bathroom we were sharing among the 7 of us...which was not fun...Katie's weekend...deal with it. The problem is that I didn't grow up with sisters. I had an older brother and I never had to share anything with him. I always had my own bedroom, bathroom, wing of the house, etc...so sharing is not my strong point. But I did my best to be quick and stay out of everyone's way. I am proud to report that I was ready...start to finish...in less than 45 minutes while the other girls took over 3 hours to shower and get dressed.

Anyways, Saturday night the plan was to go to Club Vex. I wanted to go see the Chicago and Earth, Wind & Fire concert...I know, I'm an animal...Katie's weekend...Club Vex it is. We got to the club and I found myself thoroughly amused by the people in attendance. I did some people watching...and while I was distracted by some tool in an Ed Hardy shirt trying to flirt with one of the go-go dancers, my group left me! I turned around and they were gone. I looked in the bathroom...and when I didn't see them I went back to play more blackjack where I won another $100.

Sunday morning we checked out of the hotel and headed home. Katie rode back with her sister so it was just me, the gorgeous scenery and more amazing weather. I drove home with my top down and my music up...it might just have been my favorite part of the whole weekend. I find so much comfort in being alone with my thoughts...it gave me time to just think.

You know, as I've gotten older my life has become more boring...and I'm ok with that. I've mellowed-out. I'm more low-key and who cares if I don't enjoy loud nightclubs anymore...things change, people change and this weekend I realized how much I've changed...my Tahoe epiphany. I just hope this is where I plateau, otherwise I'll be playing chess with myself, in my living room, on the weekends by the time I'm 35.

The rest of the stuff I was going to tell you about will have to wait. This has gotten entirely too long and I've got to call it a night.

Short and sweet.

2009-07-31T08:20:00.000-07:00

I'm not a pastel person...pastel colors make me nauseous. In my house, I like bold colors. Moroccan blues, greens, golds and reds in the living room and Earth tones in the bedroom. I've had the same bedroom set-up for a few years now and I'm thinking it might be time to change things up a bit. Here's what I'm currently working with (it's like a sage green and dark brown):

It's alright, but I'm starting to get bored with it and I know it's hard to tell from the picture but I have a California King so sometimes it's a little difficult to find bedding that I like...that will also fit my bed. I mean, it's HUGE. Anyways, I've started looking around for new bedding ensembles and I'm thinking about stepping outside of my comfort zone a little. Nothing too crazy...just a little pop of color to brighten things up a little. Here's what I've found so far:

I'm not in love with any of them but they're kinda sorta along the lines of what I'm thinking. Your thoughts?

Anyways, I found out yesterday that someone has been using my debit card. I spent two hours on the phone with B of A reporting the "suspicious charges." I was looking at my bank statement and saw over $500 worth of charges in Utah and Nevada over the past week. What? I asked the lady on the phone how that was possible...I have the card in my possession...and she said that people are making counterfeit bank cards with other people's account numbers on them and when they go to use them at gas stations or whatever, they say that the magnetic strip doesn't work and that it will have to be entered in manually. It doesn't seem like it should be that easy but I guess it is. So annoying and so not cool.

I hadn't felt so violated since my parents found (and read) my diary when I was 13.

In other news, I booked my flight to NC for Greta's wedding in October. I'm flying into RDU on Thursday the 8th...and my ticket was only $277 roundtrip! Sweet. I'm saving those frequent flyer miles so I can go visit Hannah in Paris next year! (For those of you who don't know...one of my best and oldest friends from 3rd grade is an engineer for Areva and they're moving her to France!) She is a bonafide badass and I will fully take advantage of a free place to stay in Europe, Oui s'il vous plaît.

Well, that's all I got for now...keeping it short and sweet today!

The Reusables.

2009-07-29T06:32:00.000-07:00

I had my meeting yesterday with Monkeyfeather Books out of Salt Lake City. Things went really well, so far as I can tell. My potential publisher seemed really enthusiastic about my series...The Reusables. The owner of the company - his name is George - is currently working on projects with Michael Ward (former member of The Wallflowers) and Joel Harper (Ben Harper's brother). We're supposed to talk again at the end of the week, once he's had a day or two to read through all of the work I've done so far.

I don't want to get too excited because I'm all too familiar with the notion that rejection is a natural part of the creative process...which is hard...because this is very personal to me. I remember talking to Carlos Alazraqui when he came on our show a few months back. He played Deputy Garcia on Reno 911! and he's done character voices for dozens of cartoons...Family Guy, Rocko's Modern Life, Phineas and Ferb AND he was the "Yo quiero Taco Bell" voice of the Taco Bell Chihuahua. Anyways, Carlos told me that it would probably take years to get my idea - The Reusables - off the ground.

So for the past couple of months I've been brainstorming here and there, writing ideas down, bouncing things off my family and friends...but I haven't devoted my full attention to this project. That being said, when George goes through everything I sent him last night, he might come back and tell me that we've still got a long way to go...or he might politely pass on all of it.

Here are my sketches...and please keep in mind that these would be redone by a professional illustrator who will make mine look like kindergarten drawings, which is basically what they are right now. Oh, and please excuse the fact that the ones at the bottom are upside-down...that was an accident.

The series is about a (culturally diverse) group of recyclable products from a recycling plant who form a band and go on tour in a recycling truck, their tour bus, singing songs to kids about different environmental issues. Not only is the series about teaching kids how to be environmentally conscious and socially responsible, but it also promotes using problem solving strategies and team work to overcome obstacles. Think Berenstain Bears, Spongebob, Veggie Tales (minus the religious aspect) and Safety Kids...with a very clear and distinct voice.

Each adventure that the characters go on focus on a specific environmental "buzz" word or term in a way that is both educational and applicable to real world scenarios.

I think it has limitless potential and while I don't have any kids myself...if I did...I would want them to read books for recreational and educational purposes. If I could find a series of books with compelling characters that entertained my kids while spreading an important message...well, I'm pretty sure I'd jump on board. I hope George agrees.

Plus, there's nothing else like this on the market right now. I recently spent a Friday night at Borders and asked the lady working there if she could show me the children's books about environmentalism...she took me straight to the non-fiction section and not only were the books aimed at/geared towards middle school aged chilren (and above) but they weren't very interesting...they were non-fiction...educational...dry. There were no books for the 4-8 year olds. There were no cute stories with cute characters. I'm just saying...

Think about it. Environmentalism is one of the biggest issues in the 21st century. The books (printed on recycled paper, of course) with music/songs and well-developed story lines...I mean, the cross-marketing opportunities would be endless.

I've already written the first book in the series. It's an introduction to the characters and it sets the stage for the future of The Reusables. I'd love for my friends (ie - those reading this right now) to check it out and give me some feedback so leave me your e-mail address in the comments section and I'll send it out to you. Or even better, if you have a small child (or have access to one...or two) then read the story to them and see if they react to it at all. Then let me know what you find out. It will help me write the rest of the series...and I'll make sure to include you in the "special thanks" section!

PS - Just checked the weather in Tahoe this weekend...sunny with a High of 80...lows in the 40's...PERFECTION!!!

Double Bonus, Cha Cha Cha.

2009-07-24T06:46:00.000-07:00

First item of business: an update on the WWWORD situation. In the middle of the show Thursday (the day after the e-mail was sent) he leaned over to me and said, "So I understand you were offended by what I sent you yesterday." I looked him dead in the eye and replied, "Yeah...actually...it kinda did." I guess what happened next was to be expected. It started with a half-hearted apology. Then it morphed into a self-indulgent defense. That's his tactic. He has a really creative way of twisting the details to fit his version of the story...which was that he wasn't even thinking about the possibility of offending me when he sent it to me because the thought never entered his mind. He challenged me and wanted to know why I found it so offensive. He tried to dissect the situation and back me into a corner so I'd have to admit that I "overreacted" and ultimately wind up letting him off the hook. I'm sure most women fall for it because he's good at it...I'm not one of them.

And while I never got the sincere and/or genuine apology that I was hoping for, I had to stand firm and lay down the law to let him know that I wasn't going to change my mind. Listen, I get it. Perception is reality. If we perceive the situation differently then our realities are going to be different. He doesn't feel like he was in the wrong so he feels like he has no reason to apologize.

Keep in mind, this is the same person who once told me that he didn't "see anything wrong with being a Nazi" and that he "had a swastika tattooed on his dick," so like I said, why would I have reason to expect a positive resolution?

The good news was that almost immediately after the show Thursday we all became instantly distracted by the Arbitron ratings. Allow me to explain a little about how ratings work. There are over 1.9 million people who live in our listening area. Every month we get a trend. The trend is a market share based on the total number of people who listen to our station (the "cume") and the time spent listening (or "TSL" as we call it). At the end of three months, the trends are averaged into a book...our ratings. We have four books per year and they are, of course: Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall.

On each of the 4 days per year that ratings are published, we all come to work wondering if we're going to be on the chopping block. If we get a bad set of numbers, we're rarely given an opportunity to "wait and see" if the next set of numbers will be better. Our ratings determine everything: how much we get paid, our bonus structure, how many enorsements we get, our testimonials and basically, how valuable we are to our company.

So anyways, we just got our Spring book numbers back and our morning show came in #2, a far cry from 8th place...which is where the show was when I came to work for KSFM 10 months ago. I would never claim full credit for the newfound success...afterall...it's a team effort and there are 5 of us who have worked very hard to achieve what we've accomplished. So I got a bonus for our morning show numbers and I was excited. I guess it just goes to show that you don't always have to see eye to eye with your coworkers, and you don't always have to like them, or agree with them...but sometimes you do need them.

Middays, on the other hand, is a solo effort. I do the show by myself. Those numbers are mine and only mine. I came in 2nd in middays too, so I got another bonus for that. Say it with me now: DOUBLE BONUS, CHA CHA CHA. Thank you CBS. Oh, and mark my word...I will beat the guy who came in 1st...he works for a rock station...his name is Pat and he's been on the air here for over 20 years...he's the veteran and I'm the rookie...step aside old man, there's a new kid in town.

The week ended well. Not even my creepy caller stalker could mess it up. I hear from him from time to time. He calls himself General Patton and he thinks my name is Claire. I don't know what his real name is. A lot of radio people have creepy caller stalkers. It's weird because we're nobody's. We're not famous, we're not celebrities. We're not even remotely interesting. I guess that's why we attract the creme de la creme of crazies...the ones who don't have enough sense to attach themselves to real celebrities. It's people like General Patton who make make me realize why I don't use my real name at work. Check this out:

I hung up on him. That seems to be the best way to handle him and most of the time he leaves me alone after that, but it doesn't always work. On this particular day, he called back. He doesn't normally get belligerent with me...only when he hasn't taken his medication. Apparently he's schizophrenic and I've been assured that he poses no real threat to my personal safety or well-being. I'm almost embarrassed to let you hear our exchange in this next call...he definitely managed to fluster the unflusterable. Damn you, General Patton:

Hahaha...I'm not black?!?!?!? That's the best I could come up with????? Seriuosly????? Ugh, makes me cringe listening to it. At least he doesn't show up to my live events. I know this guy named Mike who works for a station on the east coast and his creepy caller stalker always shows up to his remotes. His is WAY funnier than mine:

Moving on. Yesterday (Saturday) I learned the downside of Freeze getting fired again. I had to work for him. Well I didn't have to, but I'm not stupid. I'm the youngest, I'm the newest on staff and I'm the only girl. I have to prove myself by letting my boss know that I'm a team player. I'm the go-to girl. I'll get the job done even if it means sacrificing my Saturday to cover for someone I really don't like. Call it what you want...ass kissing...brown nosing...or being incredibly smart (that's the one I like the best). I spent the morning broadcasting live from a Subaru dealership and then I spent the hours between 2 and 6 pm on the air doing a regular shift. I know, I know...woe is me...and yes, I would like some cheese with my whine.

Today, Yaana and I took a trip to Modesto. I had to finish cleaning out my house because I have new tenants moving in on August 1st. One of the many joys of home-ownership, I'm learning, is that you have to do a lot of un-fun shit...especially when you don't live in your house and you rent it out to people who don't take care of it the way you would. Anyways, the trip started with a stop at a U-Haul place and let me just say...I'm pretty sure I missed my calling in life. I was driving that truck like it was nobody's business. Are you supposed to get them up to 85 mph?

No? Oh well.

Anyways, Yaana and I were like Amazonian women. Between the two of us, we moved a couch, headboard, footboard, mattress, box spring, kitchen table, chairs, and big ass mirror all by ourselves...in the 100 degree heat. We said a lot of "f" words and got a little creative with a brick when we couldn't find a hammer (thanks for nothing T-Pain) but all in all, we laughed more than we worked. I know I have a great friend in Yaana when she shows me she's willing to spend an entire Sunday in Modesto...the arm pit of California...in the blazing heat...helping me move my crap...and for that, I shall be eternally grateful.

And now here it is, Sunday night. I've got a big week ahead. Some of you who know me really well, already know that my name is not synonymous with the term "child-friendly." I think I would really like my own kids, if I had any, but generally speaking I find other people's kids to be really annoying. Keep those things on a leash. In any event, I have a meeting on Tuesday with a publishing company out of Salt Lake City (thanks to my TJ the DJ) about a series of children's books I've been working on. Don't laugh, I'm being serious. His name is George and he owns Monkeyfeather Books. They've published a series called Mike and the Bike - with a forward written by Lance Armstrong - aimed at teaching kids about the Tour de France and I don't want to get too excited yet but I'm definitely anxious to talk to him.

Then of course, this coming up weekend I'm going up to Tahoe for Katie's bachelorette party...with my double bonus in my pocket. Say it with me again: DOUBLE BONUS, CHA CHA CHA!

LAWD HAMMERCY!!!

2009-07-22T14:26:00.000-07:00

WARNING: THIS IS A LONG ONE

Well, I've certainly gotten myself into a little "situation" at work. Before I launch into the nitty gritty, let me tell you a quick story about myself.

I'm Jewish. I grew up in the south and the entire Jewish population of North Carolina, where I'm from, is approximately 1% (according to Wikipedia). So I know what it feels like to be different. I was the only Jewish kid in my classes, I never went to vacation Bible school and I don't know the words to most Christmas carols. I had a Bat Mitzvah, I went to Hebrew School on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and I celebrated weird holidays. When Adam Sandler's "The Chanukah Song" came out in 1996, I thought it was the most brilliant thing I had ever heard. At 14 years old, I remember thinking, "Finally people understand that it's ok to be Jewish."

I've been told twice in my life, to my face, that I'm going to hell because I don't believe in Jesus. It happened once in Middle School and once in High School. I'll never forget those incidents for as long as I live. I guess you could say that religion is somewhat of a "hot button" for me. At times, I'm a little hyper-sensitive about it because of the experiences I've had in the past. But that's not to say that I don't crack jokes about religion and being Jewish - because I do - funny is funny and jokes are jokes. However, I'm used to being around people who don't share my beliefs so I think I'm very cognizant of what I say when in the presence of other people. I've learned that I have to be respectful and tasteful...and that there's always a fine line between humorous and offensive...harmless and malicious...especially when it comes to religion. On the flip side, I totally get that most people aren't used to being in the religious minority and don't realize that I'm as sensitive about it as I am.

You get the idea.

Anyways, at work this morning, a conversation (off the air) started in our studio about religious fasting. Wayne, one of my co-hosts, voluntarily fasts for 24 hours each week to represent his understanding of the sacrifice that Jesus made for his followers, as taught by Christianity. My boss (the program director) and our assistant program director were both in the studio along with the other 5 of us who do the morning show together everyday.

Side note: Wayne goes to church every Sunday and his father is a preacher. He also has pre-marital sex, watches porn, drinks, gambles and engages in various other forms of sin-like behavior...all of which I know to be true because he openly talks about. He would not deny any of what I've just told you. He is free to live his life in any way he chooses and it is absolutely none of my business...but I do find it to be ironic. I call it the "beat your wife on Saturday night, go to church Sunday morning" mentality. The notion that you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, as often as you want - as long as you ask for forgiveness at your convenience. He

And let me be over-abundantly clear about one thing...I'm no angel either. I have a devious side just like most other people in the world so I'm not trying to distinguish myself from Wayne by pretending that I'm holier than thou. I'm realistic. I think, for the most part, we all try to be good friends, family members, coworkers and contributing members of society...and we all fall short sometimes.

My APD (assistant program director) is the opposite of Wayne. His name is Randy. Randy walks the walk and talks the talk. He lives the straight and narrow. I find this to be equally as annoying (on a personal level) as someone who talks out of both sides of his/her mouth, but I respect that he practices what he preaches.

So the fasting conversation is taking place and my boss (who we'll call BK) said that he didn't understand the concept of religious fasting because he doesn't believe that God cares whether people eat or not. He said he thinks it's a little self-righteous to assume that God pays that much attention to any one person's dietary habits.

I didn't say anything.

Wayne and Randy seemed intent on proving their point, so the conversation lasted a lot longer than it should have. Finally I spoke up. I said, "Well, BK I'm Jewish so don't feel bad...I don't understand any of this." Everyone in the room already knew I was Jewish because I'm very open about it and have mentioned it, both on and off the air, on several occasions. Actually I take that back. The only person who didn't know about my religious beliefs before I made the comment was my boss. He didn't know because we aren't really acquainted with one another on a personal level. I've never seen or hung out with him outside of work, like the rest of my coworkers have. Like I've said in the past, it's a boys club...no girls allowed.

So after the conversation ended everyone pretty much dispersed in different directions. The show ended and that was that.

An hour or two later I got an e-mail from my co-host Wayne. The subject line read: WWWORD. I didn't know what it was so of course, I opened it. I'm just going to copy and paste the whole thing below because it'll be easier than trying to re-type it all:

From: KSFM Waynee Wayne
Sent: Wednesday, July 22, 2009 2:18 PM
To: KSFM Reagan
Subject: FW: WWWORD

1 Corinthians 1:18-23 (New Living Translation)
The Wisdom of God
18 The message of the cross is foolish to those who are headed for destruction! But we who are being saved know it is the very power of God. 19 As the Scriptures say,
“I will destroy the wisdom of the wise and discard the intelligence of the intelligent.”[a]
20 So where does this leave the philosophers, the scholars, and the world’s brilliant debaters? God has made the wisdom of this world look foolish. 21 Since God in his wisdom saw to it that the world would never know him through human wisdom, he has used our foolish preaching to save those who believe. 22 It is foolish to the Jews, who ask for signs from heaven. And it is foolish to the Greeks, who seek human wisdom. 23 So when we preach that Christ was crucified, the Jews are offended and the Gentiles say it’s all nonsense.

I read it once.

I read it again.

I went back and re-read it for a third time.

I sat for a moment and processed what the passage was about. Keep in mind, I've never read the Bible so all of the numbers were throwing me off a little bit. And then, in an unelicited response to the e-mail...I started crying. I was angry, offended, frustrated and hurt. I found it inappropriate and uncalled for. We work for a Fortune 500 company. William S. Paley, the chief executive who built CBS into one of the foremost radio and television network operations in the United States, was a Russian Jew. Not that that has anything to do with the scripture message I had just read...but loosely, the point is that using work e-mail for spreading Christian ideals and beliefs is neither professional nor appreciated.

It gets worse. The e-mail was originally sent by Randy (one of my direct superiors) to a group of people who work in our building. He sent it 15 minutes after the conversation we had in our studio about religious fasting...when I spoke up about being Jewish. Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe not. I do find it suspicious that the scripture he chose made direct references to Jews. Again, I haven't read the Bible so I don't know if that's a common occurrence or not. But I found out later in the day that Randy sends these types of e-mails out almost daily...from his corporate e-mail account...on company time. Tsk, tsk. He sends them to about 15-20 people in our office as a type of bonding-through-Christ kind of kinsmanship. Obviously I'm not on that e-mail list but Wayne decided that I needed to hear the message so he (as one of the e-mail recipients) forwarded it to me.

I had some irrational thoughts while I sat there crying. My instinct was to print it out and march straight to HR. I could picture myself heading down there (e-mail in hand) on a mission, with a vengeance...demanding reprimand...refusing to accept anything less. But I've learned not to react emotionally to work situations. So I did the next best thing. I called my dad...but not before forwarding him the e-mail so that he could read it while we were on the phone together.

Here's a little 411 about my dad...he doesn't get mad. He's cool as a cucumber all the time. He is even-tempered, he's methodical and he's VERY patient (afterall, he still puts up with me...and my mom). I've seen my dad get really worked up on one or two occasions. Honestly, the rest of the time he's exceedingly logical. I call him every time I need him to "talk me off the ledge" and no one can reason with me the way my dad can.

Well, I can tell you this...Dr. J was PISSED!!! I don't know if I've ever heard that tone of anger in his voice.

He kept saying, "If I found out this was going on in my organization I would be livid!!! This is grounds for termination...what the hell are they thinking???"

We talked about the options I had. I could:

a). Do nothing...let it roll right off...take the high road and shrug it off

b). E-mail Wayne back, addressing him directly, about my disapproval

c). Talk to my boss about the situation

d). Go to Human Resources

I chose to e-mail Wayne directly. Listen, I'm not trying to get anyone in trouble...I don't want anyone to get fired...and I don't want to "be the girl who ran to HR" over a stupid little e-mail and got everyone in trouble. That's not how I operate. Here's my response:

Hey Wayne,

I totally respect your beliefs and don't mean any malintent in saying this, but I'd like to ask that you please not forward me Bible scriptures in the future. I know sometimes I joke about being Jewish but at the end of the day, it's something I take great pride in...I am firm and secure in my beliefs and would very respectfully like to make it clear that I do not wish to receive scripture e-mails from you or anyone else here at work.

Thanks,

Reagan

I went home after I sent the e-mail and thought that should have been the end of it...but it wasn't. One of my good friends in the building overheard me talking to my dad on the phone and went to tell BK about the e-mail because he knew I wasn't going to. From what I understand, my boss flipped out. He panicked, thinking I was going to turn on everyone involved (and by everyone involved, I mean the entire WWWORD mailing list, of which BK is a member). As it stands, I don't know who knows what or what the public perception of the situation happens to be.

Further, it's not even the content of the scripture that upsets me as much as it's the intent and motivation behind Wayne's decision to send it to me. He was trying to put me in my place and show me the error of my ways. It was deliberate, premeditated and reeked of superiority. It's totally characteristic of the working relationship I have with him (which is an entirely different issue all together...kind of).

So, I'm going to show up to work tomorrow as if it's business as usual but LAWD HAMMERCY!!! You know, I've often said that if you're the kind of person who always has issues with people at work then the common denominator is you. I don't know if I'm the problem or if this is all being brought on by outside forces.

I have to stop typing now, I'm getting a hand cramp.

PS - Freeze got fired again and I stand corrected...this was the fifth time he's been terminated from his position with CBS. He's got to be setting a record or something...is that worthy of an award? I feel like I should make him a certificate.

Dear Freeze,

Congratulations on being the employee who has been fired more times than anybody else in the history of the Columbia Broadcasting System. Job well done...not.

Regards,

Reagan

Mix Mornings.

2009-07-21T05:59:00.001-07:00

We have this station in our building...I call it the Phil Collins station because it seems like that's all they ever play...with some Billy Joel and Elton John peppered in for good measure. And maybe a Kelly Clarkson "Breakaway" if they're feeling adventurous. Anyways, they're the same station that we had the newspaper ordeal with and they have a two person morning show called Mix Mornings with Dave and Jenn (or some variation of the such). I've spent the past month since we've been in our new building trying to decontstruct and dissect them. I'm a social interaction connoisseur and I take pride in tailoring my workplace camaraderies to the specific needs and personalities of those I'm trying to befriend.

Here's what I've learned so far:

Dave Thomson speaks in double entendre's. This morning I heard him say, "Oh yeah, I know what you need...I know what you want...and it starts with an 'f'...I'm talking about FUN...geez, that didn't sound so good did it?"

No Dave, it didn't. Your sexual innuendo's make me feel nauseas. Please stop.

Then he follows it up with, "What did you think I was talking about?"

Ummmm...oh, I don't know...fucking?

And then he plays Girls Just Wanna Have Fun...chuckling over the intro of the song like he's a comedic genius.

Dave drives a Toyota Previa and wears Jesus sandals every single day...you might know them as Teva's. I remember seeing people sporting them in the early-mid 90's but thought they had since been retired by the masses, along with hypercolor t-shirts and parachute pants. He also walks really, really fast which stresses me out. He flies through the hallways at mach 10...and just for fun, I thought about posting a speed limit sign outside of my office. I suspect that as "square" as he appears on the outside, deep down he's a freak nasty. I'm inclined to believe that he and his wife secretly engage in sadomasochistic rituals...and ultimately, I think that's why I like him even though it's safe to say that our presence in the building is a fly in his ointment. It's an adjustment for all parties involved.

Jennifer Steele is an entirely different story. Jenn is cougariffic. I hope I look that good at her age. The only things I'm not sure about with her are the hair extensions and her car-parking abilities. She used to have short hair. Then all of a sudden, she comes in one day with a head full of long blonde hair. She sets up an assortment of hair products in the bathroom (at work) in the mornings and since I'm the only other female in the building at 4:45 in the morning...and I know they're not mine...I can only assume that she comes to work to do her hair before she goes on the air. She has hairspray, curling irons, brushes, combs, mousse, clips and hair ties all over the counter. At first I thought she was just extremely vain and high-maintenance but then I decided that I could learn something from her. At least she makes an attempt...sometimes, I don't even try. I'm the queen of hooded sweatshirts and messy ponytails...it's radio...theater of the mind.

But enough about me and my disheveled unkemptness, my justification stands.

Jenn gets up at the ass-crack of dawn too and she is always dressed to impress. She is my inspiration to try harder.

She, unlike Dave, drives a really nice car (or at least it was 8 years ago). If I had to guess, I'd say it's a 2000-2001...Mercedes SLK...silver. I applaud her car choice. It lets me know that she spends $200 on oil changes without blinking an eye. The only problem I have concerning her automobile, is the way she parks it in the parking lot. My girl has no regard for the white lines and it looks like she let Stevie Wonder pull her car in. But nonetheless, I'm going to try to forge a friendship with her so that she can help me become a CIT (cougar in training).

They're both pretty set in their ways...which is seemingly what happens as people start to get older. I've noticed it in myself some. I'm a little OCD about certain things...I like bottled water, but not Evian (or any other kind of mineral water, for that matter). Mineral water tastes funny. And I'm definitely not a tap water drinker, it's not how I was raised. I like a certain kind of fabric softener/dryer sheets for my towels because I like them to smell a certain way. I like running errands on Saturday mornings or Sunday afternoons but never on Fridays. It's a little strange, I know.

I'm getting off-topic.

The point of all of this was to introduce you to the Mix morning show...so that when I refer to them in the future you'll know a little more about who I'm talking about. Background information. Reference points. We all work together now, there will be more Dave and Jenn stories to come.

"And not that you care, but now you know."

Holy Christmas.

2009-07-19T19:02:00.000-07:00

What, in God's name, is with the weather? Listen, I'm from the south and I can deal with a reasonable degree of summer heat but this is beyond my realm of comprehension. I've been out running errands for the better part of the afternoon and at one point, it was 117 outside. It was so hot that I could feel the heat radiating off the asphalt through my flip flops to the soles of my feet. As I was driving home I saw a sign-holder standing on a corner looking like the most miserable person alive...and I swear, I could literally see his flesh melting off of his face. Holy Chistmas it is SO HOT.

Side Note: Before I started writing this post I went back and read some of my previous posts...which I rarely do...and that was a mistake. I know sometimes it seems like all I do on here is whine and/or complain and/or bitch but I hope it's understood that this is why I started writing these entries in the first place. This is how I vent. This is therapeutic for me...it's how I outlet the emotions that I refuse to display in my everyday life because women who react emotionally to situations (both inside and outside the workplace) are labeled irrational. So I bring it here and it's cathartic for me to sit down and "purge it" all (for lack of a better term). Anyways, I hope it can go without saying that, generally speaking, I'm an optimist...and this blog should never be misconstrued as my always-angry-at-the-world, glass half-empty, bleak and dismal take on life. Are we on the same page here?

Well, I hate to keep it so short but 4:00 a.m. will be here in a few hours and my feet have to hit the ground running on Mondays...but I'll check in again soon.

The Adventures of Super Bitch.

2009-07-17T06:31:00.000-07:00

I've never really had an archnemesis so this is kind of a new thing for me. I'm in uncharetered territory. I'd like to think that, generally, I get along with everyone. So it's been interesting working with someone who genuinely doesn't like me...and trust me, the feeling is mutual. It's so ridiculously unneccessary, I almost can't even tell the story without feeling ashamed that I've let it get to this point. It all started back in May.

There's a guy named Freeze who works here. Nevermind the fact that he's been fired from CBS three times in the past...it's not an integral part of my story but it does shed a little light on the caliber of the individual I'm talking about. (Don't ask me why they've hired him back so many times, I don't make those decisions around here). Anyways, Freeze and I started out on good terms. We have mutual friends in common and have hung out in the same crowd/circle quite a few times in the past. I've never agreed with the way he chooses to live his life but fully understand that if it doesn't personally affect me, it isn't any of my business...so I've always kept my opinions to myself.

One of our friend's had a birthday a couple of months ago and we were all going to go out the weekend before (his birthday was on a Tuesday or Wednesday). Freeze couldn't find a babysitter so he pitched a fit that we were all going to go without him. Again, nevermind the fact that he has no problem leaving his daughter with his parents when he wants to go to Tahoe or Vegas for the weekend...or that he will trade days with his ex to suit his scheduling needs on other occasions...nonetheless, the group decides not to go so that we could accomodate Freeze.

This story is starting to run long...let me speed it up.

So Freeze decides that we should all go out the weekend after (which happened to be Memorial Day weekend) and he started sending out mass text messages and wanted people to text back confirming, yes or no, if they would be coming. I said that I'd help him out in any way if I was going to be in town...but I had plans to go to Lake Tahoe for the long weekend...and I wasn't alone. Most other people had plans too which is why we all wanted to do the birthday celebration the weekend before. As soon as Freeze realized that the majority of the group had other things going on, he started sending out mass text messages saying snarky things...accusing us of not being good friends, etc. After the third message I got, I couldn't bite my tongue anymore.

Finally I told him to stop making "dick comments" and he was so offended that he's now taken it upon himself to openly discuss his hatred for me in and around the workplace. Did I provoke him? Yes. Should I have ignored all of his asinine remarks? Yes. Do I share some of the responsibility for what has transpired? Of course. However, I thought it was all water under the bridge...nothing catastrophic...just a minor altercation. I was wrong.

Clearly, Freeze's contempt for me stems from something much more deep-rooted. I do not believe that our brief text message exchange could have caused this much of a stir, and if it has, then he is just as ridiculous of a person as I have believed him to be all along. I think I know what this is all really about but at the risk of sounding pretentious, I won't say it out loud...just like the other things I'd like to say about his moral fabric (or lack thereof) but have kept to myself.

I will say this: one of my coworkers has started a comic strip parodying my war with Freeze and it's called "The Adventures of Super Bitch." They are brilliant and hilarious...I get to stomp around the office cutting people down with my razor sharp rhetoric. Basically, it's the dialogue that runs through my head on a daily basis. I hope it gets to see the light of day...someday. If I can figure out a way to post some of them on here, I will.

In other news, to follow-up on my last post...I was running early for work today so I drove all the way over to the Starbucks by our old studio...because they know me there, they understand me and they certainly have enough sense to put a God damn sleeve on my coffee for me without me having to ask. Listen, I know it seems like I'm being demanding but the reality is that I get up at 3:45 in the morning everyday...you'd be cranky too if you're entire life was spent wandering around the world never feeling fully awake...a constant zombie-esque state of delerium resulting from many years of sleep deprivation. But this is the life I choose to lead, so I have no one to blame but myself. Anyways, I'd just like to point out that not only did my peeps at the OG Starbucks know to make my triple grande non-fat, no-whip mocha just the way I like it...but they went a step beyond the automatic placement of the brown sleeve on my cup and they gave me the little green plug that goes in the hole of the cup which prevents it from spilling out while I'm en route to work. It's the little things in life that make a big difference.

To hell with Craig...and his proverbial list.

2009-07-14T09:22:00.000-07:00

I spent two hours the other night trying to post an ad on Craigslist for my house in Modesto. In total, I made (and subsequently remade) the same ad about 5 times. As of this morning, none of them have shown up online. I don't know what the problem is but I say to hell with Craig and his proverbial list. I'll try again today.

Speaking of my house in Modesto...I need some big strong men to help me move a couple of things out August 8th or 9th...I'll bring the U-haul, buy you lunch and provide the beer if you'll lend me your muscles for, at most, an hour. I don't want to have to hire movers just to load up a headboard, footboard, mattress, box spring, washer and dryer but I will if I have to.

Well, the puppy went to go live with my mom and dad. I put him on a plane last Thursday and when I dropped him off at the airport I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. The guy at Delta was completely unsympathetic and threw a box of Kleenex at me when I started to hyperventilate...which is a little bit of an exaggeration...but not much. I had no idea how attached I had gotten to that dog until it was time to say goodbye. All I could think was, he doesn't understand why I'm sending him away.

But nonetheless he made it to Lake Wylie without any complications.

Everyone is still adjusting to life in our new studio. There have been some growing pains, to say the least. I can’t go into too much detail but let’s just say we’ve had this on-going newspaper debacle with the AC (Adult Contemporary) station…they told us that all 4 of the local newspapers delivered in the morning were theirs – even though they are only a two-person morning show – and given the fact that our company pays for the newspaper delivery service, technically the papers belong to all of us. Nobody who works in this building pays for them out of pocket…hence…they are community newspapers…so deal with it. Anyways, we took it to the higher-ups and the verdict came down in our favor. Here’s the breakdown: they will get two papers, we will get one (to share among the 5 members of our morning show) and the other station in the building will get one…btw – the last station I’m referring to runs a syndicated morning show so the local producer is the only one in that studio in the morning. So, to recap…the two-person morning show who claimed that they needed all four copies of the Sacramento Bee were forced to give us one…of the free papers…that our company pays for…because (for no other reason) it’s a control issue and they don’t really like that they have to share with us now.

Oh well.

And since I’m on a roll…just spilling beans, throwing mud and generally complaining…I might as well go ahead and throw in the diva working at Starbucks this morning. She tries to hand me my coffee through the window without a little brown sleeve thingy on the cup so as I take it from her and can feel the heat from the cup on my hand I politely ask, “May I have a sleeve for my coffee?” She doesn’t say anything, she just reaches for one and as she’s passing it to me she says, “Here you go, but it’s not that hot.”

Ok, listen trick. I didn’t ask you if the coffee was too hot…I asked you if I could have a sleeve for my coffee cup since every other Starbucks I’ve ever been to has automatically put one on my cup for me and I haven’t had to go out of my way to ask for one. I’m paying $4.30 for my damn triple grande non-fat no-whip mocha…now give me a freaking thingy for my coffee cup before I climb through your drive-thru window and beat your ass.

That’s what I wanted to say.

That’s not what I said.

I ignored her snarky comment and thanked her…but I definitely decided not to throw my $0.70 worth of change in her tip jar. Take that. I was going to hook her up with two whole shiny quarters and two whole shiny dimes...until she opened her mouth. No, I don't feel bad about stiffing her on the tip, I wasn't in the mood for a dose of Starbucks diva this morning...wasn't what I ordered.

And finally, I found a house I really like…hoping to move soon…but don’t want to jinx it so we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.

Happy Birthday Parker.

2009-07-06T08:13:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Parker's 6th birthday. I officially adopted him on July 5, 2003 and since none of my dogs have papers confirming the actual day they were born, I figured it doesn't really matter when we celebrate. My friends and I threw him a puppy party on Saturday the 4th because having b-day parties on Sundays is lame. Jay and Katie bought an edible doggie birthday cake from The Barkery, I bought the red, white and blue party favors and we all got together and pretended that Parker actually understood what was going on. Guests in attendance included: Parker, Moxie, Raffey, Sierra and Taz.

Anyways, yesterday morning I decided to let the dogs have the birthday cake leftovers for breakfast, because I'm a cool mom like that. It all started well, with each dog eating of their own plates.

However, as you can see...

Moxie wound up finishing hers early and then decided that she should eat off of the puppy's plate too. Speaking of the puppy, my mom and dad are going to adopt him. When they came to visit, they fell head over heels in love with him...which, secretly, is what I was hoping would happen. Mission accomplished, problem solved. He's going to love living on Lake Wylie...my parents have a huge yard, a big house and I know he'll be spoiled rotten!

Now that I don't have to worry about finding him a home anymore, it's time to find myself a new home. I've got until the end of August to get it all sorted out...which is plenty of time...but I'm having trouble finding a place that has everything I'm looking for. I can't remember if I ever explained why I have to move in the first place...the short version of the story is that the owner of the house I've been renting was pocketing my rent money every month and not paying his mortgage with it...so the bank foreclosed on the house and now I have to move out. The bank is giving us 90 days to move (from June 18th) so at least we didn't get kicked out on our keister's.

I went to an open house over the weekend and checked out a potential place. The owners of the property were nice but when they asked me if I was, "living in sin" I figured this probably wasn't the house for me. Their question startled me so much that I sort of laughed out loud...I thought, are you serious or are you messing with me? They were dead serious. I assured them that I wasn't and they seemed pleased to hear it...but they were totally creepy...like the kind of people who would set up hidden cameras to monitor for all sin-like behavior which might be going on without their knowledge. It's a shame too, the house was nice.

I have time...that's what I keep telling myself. I don't have to move right away. But it's inherent in my DNA to stress over the eventual, inevitable and impending things in life. Oh well, it'll all work itself out in the end, I hope.

For the next few days I've got enough to keep me occupied. The Beyonce concert is Thursday night, the American Idols Live concert is Friday night...hopefully I'll behave this year, unlike last, when I grabbed David Archuletta's thigh in a moment of temporary insanity. I'm still not sure why I did that. Poor thing, he looked terrified.

Three and a half month hiatus.

2009-07-04T22:44:00.000-07:00

I'm baaaaack! What, it was only a three and a half month hiatus! I don't have a good reason for falling off the map...just happens sometimes I guess. And since I'm home on the 4th of July watching Adventures in Babysitting on VH1, I figured now would be an appropriate time to get back in the game.

I suppose I should start by catching you up to speed a little.

My witness protection roommate moved out. She stayed in Sacramento but "relocated" to a one bedroom apartment on the other side of town. My new roommate is a Muslim from Somalia...which is interesting considering I'm a southern Jew. I always say that our house is a mini United Nations. We are proof that not only can Jews and Muslims coexist, but can actually be friends with one another. She's two years younger than I am, which is fine but I do question her judgment sometimes. Within the first month of living together she had befriended a bonafide prostitute and a convicted rapist. I am not making this up.

I'm also doing much better at work than I was. I was struggling for a while with trying to settle in at my new station. I've been there about 10 months now and sometimes it still feels like I'm the only girl amongst an all-boys club...but my numbers are consistently strong and at least for right now, I feel pretty secure.

About a month ago I rescued a puppy from a military family who had less than 24 hours to find a home for their dog before being deployed to Germany. I've had him since Memorial Day weekend and there's a picture of him (with my dad) posted below. I've fallen head over heels for this dog but since I already have two of my own, I don't know if it would be fair to try to keep him and adequately care for all three. Luckily, when my parents were here to visit, they fell head over heels in love with him too and he will soon be living the good life with my mom and dad on Lake Wylie, SC.

The screenplay I wrote back in January made it to the top 25% of an international competition I entered it into. In the back of my mind I thought I might actually have a shot at placing, however, they just announced the semi-finalist round (comprised of the top 10%) and I didn't make that cut. Still, I don't think it's all that bad for my first shot at screenwriting. They said there were 5,400 entries this year...I am proud of making it as far as I did...still, the competitive drive in me wishes I had gone further. I just started working on my next project. It's called "19 Roommates" about the 19 roommates I've had since I moved out of my parents' house at 18. I'm not giving up on the writing...I refuse.

As for the future...well, let's just say I've got some other big things in the the works before the end of the year. No other details are available at this time but I promise to disclose more once it gets closer.

Happy 4th.

Help.

2009-03-18T08:56:00.000-07:00

I'm such a slacker.

1). I've completely lost the motivation to keep up with a blog or start writing my next screenplay or stay on top of my e-mails.

2). My computer is still jacked-up and I've placed it in the hands of our radio station IT guy...now I'm scared I'll never see it again.

3). I think I have tendonitis and/or arthritis in my right hand from all of the texting and/or keyboard typing that I do.

4). I signed up for a damn Twitter account so now I have one more stupid social networking thingy I have to keep up with.

5). I have PMS.

6). The IRS is claiming they can't locate my tax return info when I try to check the status of it online which is starting to worry me.

7). And to top it off, the high school kids I've been workign with in the afternoons are being heinous brats right now...which I can only assume is attributed to a case of Spring Fever...and this makes me want to physically harm them all.

Help.

Beginning of the end.

2009-03-05T08:08:00.000-08:00

WTF, WTF, WTF!!! It's official. I found my first gray hair today. I'm 27 years old. This isn't supposed to be happening!!! I almost had a heart-attack. I was standing in the bathroom at work and as I was washing my hands when I saw something shimmer in the mirror. I stared at it for a second, refusing to accept that it was what I thought it was. Then I yanked it out and marched right back in to the studio to take a picture of it. I'm not sure why I felt the need to take a picture, it was an instinctive reaction to the situation.

All I have to say is GOD DAMNIT!!! It's the beginning of then end, for sure...

Wishin' on a Star.

2009-02-27T07:55:00.000-08:00

I saw a shooting star last night and for the first time in my entire life, I wished for money. I always swore I'd never be one of those people obsessed with making it, having it, spending it, or worshipping it but the one thing I know (right now) is that I'm miserable without it. Why does it have to be so stressful?

My roommate is moving out on Saturday so I've been spending the past two weeks trying to find a new roommate...the problem is...that the people who own the house I'm living in haven't been paying the mortgage and now the house is in forclosure. I can't move someone in knowing that we'll probably have to move out within the next couple of months. I'm trying to figure out if I should even pay my rent on March 1st. Isn't part of my rental agreement that I pay my rent every month (on time) based on good faith that the home owner is responsibly paying the mortgage which, in turn, provides me with a stable living environment?

The NOD (Notice of Default) was filed February 18th and it will probably be a month or two before it goes to auction. Once the house is sold I know they have to give me 60 days notice to vacate the premise but should I stay that long or should I move? I don't want to move. It's expensive to move and I drive a Beetle convertible...there's no way I could fit my California king bed, sectional sofa, TV cabinet, chest of drawers and loads of other crap in my teeny tiny car. This means I'd have to hire someone to help me move. Where does that money come from? My property management company won't give me my deposit back if I break my lease and move out early. I gave them a $1500 deposit...I need that back.

So that's one of my problems right now.

Then there was the botched lasik eye surgery debacle...my parents flew to San Francisco and while they were in Northern California I got my mom an appointment to have lasik done with the same doctor who did mine. They were only going to charge her $1,000 for both eyes. Great deal. The problem was that they were only able to do one of her eyes because she had a soft cornea in her other eye...but they didn't discover her bum eye until after they had cut into it. So basically, only one of her eyes is done which means she has to fly back out here in May to get the other one fixed after it heals. To make a long story short...it hasn't been the great experience I was hoping it would be for her. And let me make this clear: It wasn't the doctor's fault. There was no way they could have predicted that she had a soft cornea prior to cutting into her eye. That being said, I feel partly responsible for the discomfort she experienced while she was supposed to be on vacation. We spent the whole time they were on vacation going to and from the doctor's office, Lens Crafters, back to the doctor's office, back to Lens Crafters...we did this for three full days.

I came back to Sacramento this past Monday and started a second job. I work with a group of at-risk high school students in the afternoons and we're doing a program called the California Voices initiative. My students have to make a 4-6 minute documentary about a hero in their community so of course, they want to do their project on Kevin Johnson (the Mayor). This is turning into a very time-consuming second job. I have no idea how to use Movie Maker and all of the other video editing software so I've spent over 20 hours trying to get caught up. The good news is that I've been pulling every string I can to secure some time with KJ because if my kids are doing a project...they're going to do THE BEST project. What's so cool about the documentaries is that coming up in May, we're goign to have a big screening at The Crest Theater to show all of the projects.

And finally, I'm going to leave you with a picture of Moxie taking a bath recently...it makes me smile...and yes, I was in the tub with my dog. Is that weird?

Oh yeah and I decided to enter my screen play in two different contests. It's a longshot to win because they are both international competitions...but I paid a little extra to get judge's feedback. If I understand everything correctly, the judge's will take extra time to hand-write me notes about how I can make it better.

False alarm.

2009-02-14T19:16:00.000-08:00

I normally wouldn't let a stupid holiday like Valentine's Day get to me but I have to say, this year was particularly difficult to get through. It all started yesterday when one of the guys I do the morning show Valentine's Day present. He needed me to go because he doesn't have a license or a car (btw - he's 30 years old) and if I didn't take him then his fiance would have to drive him to the store...and that wouldn't be very romantic. So I went over around 7:00 and took him shopping. We spent two hours picking out a necklace, some bath stuff, two sets of pajamas, her favorite candy and a card. How awful!

When we got back to their house, I made a really stupid decision. I decided, for some odd reason, that as a 27-year-old woman I should try hallucinagenic mushrooms (also known as shrooms) for the first time in my entire life. So I ate one...a stem and a cap...nothing happened. I even put it in between two Eggo mini's and made a little waffle shroom sandwich out of it to make sure I chewed it up really well. I didn't feel anything and I was too scared to eat another one. It was Friday the 13th...stranger things have happened...and at least now I can say I tried it one time.

And I don't know if was the shroom or the fact that I was dead tired, but I got THE best night's sleep last night. I passed out at 11:30 and woke up at 10:00 this morning on top of the 3 hour nap I took when I got home from work Friday afternoon!

Then I woke up this morning and decided to let my dogs out into the front yard because all of the rain over the past couple of days flooded the back. As soon as I opened the door I saw a big box from Flowers Direct. I got all excited. Who could they be from? My mind was racing just thinking about it. I picked them up and carried the box inside and just as I was about to tear into it...whoops...I noticed they weren't for me. False alarm. My roommate got two dozen beautiful roses from some guy she met on the internet who lives on the east coast. Well, good for her.

Then I went to work. I know I've been bitching about it on here since I found out I was scheduled...so yeah...work sucked. It was a bunch of people wanting to give "shout outs" to their significant others. I did get one dinner invitation from a guy named Ricky. I said no. The rule in radio is not to date listeners. Listeners who call radio stations trying to hit on the dj's are usually pretty creepy.

Anyways, I'm home now and it just occured to me that my parents didn't even call today! It's 8:00 at night and I'm home with my dogs. So happy Valentine's Day to all of you who worked today, or did drugs last night or had a false alarm this morning. All I have to say is, thank God it's almost over!!!

Flo Rida in the hizzle.

2009-02-13T06:28:00.000-08:00

No one told me beforehand, that Flo Rida was coming in yesterday...and I have nothing substantial to base this on except my own intuition, but I suspect it was done on purpose. That's how chicks in radio are. Every other female that I work with came in all dolled-up which should have been the first clue that there was something I was unaware of...something I was missing. And when I casually mentioned: "Oh, I didn't know he was coming in today" our promotions director (who should have told me) pretended like she didn't hear the comment I had just made...and I was standing right beside her when I said it. If it legitimately had been a mistake, wouldn't she have apologized? That's what I would have done if I had legitimately forgotten to tell someone something that he/she should have known prior to it actually happening. Again, sometimes I get the feeling that radio chicks just like to hate on each other for no reason. I felt stupid. I was unprepared for the interview and my partner had to carry most of the dialogue...but whatever.

In other news, our studios are right down the street from the Arden Fair Mall so I drive past it on my way home everyday. There's a movie theater at the mall playing "He's Just Not That Into You" but I guess they couldn't fit the whole title on the marquee so it reads HE'S NOT INTO YOU. Damn, that's a harsher way of putting it. I got a good laugh out of the sign and I'm going to try to take a picture of it on my way home today so I can post it on here.

Other than that, there isn't much else to report. I have to work tomorrow (Valentine's Day) but I'm off on Monday. At least I'll have a reason to get out of the house for a couple of hours. I've got a lot to do before my parents get here on Wednesday.

I need a drink.

2009-02-11T19:09:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting on my ass watching the Carolina / Duke basketball game right now. It's reminding me of when I was a student at UNC. College feels like it was so long ago. It took me five years to finish my degree in economics...good thing I stuck it out...it sure comes in handy when I'm surfing http://www.perezhilton.com/ every morning at work (insert sarcasm here). Although, my time in college is what lead me to a life in California so I guess it wasn't all bad. My problem was that I couldn't stay focused. I had just finished 13 years of school...I had graduated from high school with a 4.75 GPA and a Salutatorian title to go along with it. I got straight A's most of my way through school and by the time college rolled around, I just didn't feel like doing any more homework, projects, papers or presentations. But it was important to my family so I went through the motions...

Anyways, I'm 27 now and I'm hoping someday I'll understand why I wrote a 30 page analysis about hyperinflation in Zimbabwe.

If you've read the other posts I've put on here then you may remember when I was telling you about my dad's idea for me to move home and start a business with him...a coffee shop, to be more specific. Well now he's changed his mind and he's thinking that a Chic-fil-a would be more profitable. He's probably right, but the thought of quitting my exciting radio job to go home and run a fast food restaurant...hmmmm...I don't know about that. I'm still in the pro's vs. con's stage of the decision making process. The question I keep coming back to is: at what point do my long-term goals of financial stability and family involvement begin to outweigh the "fun" of being on the radio? And if it's already begun, when do I walk away from my life here to pursue the other things I aspire to have in my life? I'm not going to lie...I want to make money. I want to make real money. Radio is NOT the path to financial wealth. It is only lucrative for a select few...a common misconception among those who think we get paid a lot. We don't; especially now that the radio game has changed and talent is regarded as less and less important. The music is the star of any radio station...the people who talk are becoming more and more useless. In fact, I'm not convinced that someday there might not even be DJ's on radio stations. Everywhere I look there's more syndication, voice-tracking and out of market programming.

I've been making myself crazy over this decision.

Oh and to top it off, I just found that I've been scheduled to work an air shift on Saturday from 2 until 6 - Valentine's Day - yay. I hope this doesn't come-off sounding completely arrogant and ego-maniacal (is that even a word?) but I do mornings AND middays Monday through Friday. I'm on the air from 5:30 in the morning until 2:00 in the afternoon...and I don't get paid a dime for doing my 10-2 midday show. I didn't even get a bonus for having the #1 rated midday show in all of Sacramento. If you listen to almost any other radio station in the country, you'll hear a morning show...and then you'll hear an entirely different person doing the 10-2 shift...and guess what...that midday person gets paid a full-time salary! So I'm already getting ass raped by the company I work for by doing two FULL TIME air shifts for one measly salary, not to mention - I do all of the morning show's website postings and book us interviews...like Katy Perry...which I got yelled at for because after I was given permission to book the in-studio my boss forgot he told me I could have her come in and then decided I should not have been talking to Katy's record rep about what time she'd be coming in. Does that make any sense to you? Yeah, me neither. So excuse my lack of "team" attitude for not wanting to come in on Saturday...Valentine's Day...to work while all of the other full-timers have the day off.

I'm bitching and whining...I know...but I can't help it. It's easy to say, "Oh you're lucky to have such a cool job. You get to meet celebrities and go to concerts." And everyone who says/thinks that is correct...but nothing is perfect.

I can feel my blood pressure going up as I'm typing this so it might be time to call it a night. I need a drink.

Summer Lovin'

2009-02-09T06:36:00.001-08:00

All I have to say is Fuck Monday mornings. It's 6:38 am right now and I've already been at work for two hours. The nice thing is that our studio is in a big tall office building so I get to watch the run rise every morning. That puts me in a good mood. We also face due east so we have a clear view of the Sierra Nevada's and on clear days you can see snow capped mountains in the distance...sometimes I look out at and realize how close I am to Lake Tahoe...the most gorgeous place I've ever been. That puts me in a good mood too.

I stayed up entirely too late last night watching the Grammy's. I was glued to the Chris Brown/Rihanna drama and it was in that moment, I realized how pathetic my life is...when I will stay up until 11:00 to find out all of the details about their fight even though I know my alarm will be going off at 3:45 the next morning. Needless to say, I'm hating life right now.

Anyways, it's a new week which means new and exciting goings on...we launched a new promotion this morning. It's a "Pay your Bills" contest where people can go on the website and sign up to have us pay their bills. That's the big news. Other than that, the only thing I have to report is that I received one of those random "blast from the past" e-mails over the weekend that pop-up every now and again. This one came from someone I dated when I was 19 years old...almost 10 years ago.

We met the summer we were camp counselors in upstate New York. I had just finished my freshman year at UNC and didn't want to move back home for the summer. So I applied to be a camp counselor. It was free room and board for 12 weeks plus you got paid like $1500. I definitely could have made more if I had gone back to the beach to wait tables at Blackbeard's Quarters but like I said, going home wasn't an option. So anyways, the counselors were brought up a full week before the first campers arrived. Half of the staff members were American college kids and the other half were international kids who came through a program called Camp America. Their deal was simple. They came to work at a summer camp for 3 months, earned a little bit of money and then they got an extra 3 months to travel the U.S. with the money they had earned. So basically, there were 250 staff members between the ages of 18 and 25...all with an appetite for foreign cuisine...if you know what I mean.

The Americans went straight for the internationals...an vice versa. I wound up with the 23-year-old Australian soccer coach. His name was Scott. He had such a thick accent taht when we'd have time off and we'd go out in town, I'd have to translate for him at restaurants because nobody could understand whathe was saying. What I remember most about our summer fling was the innocence. I lost my viriginity at 16 and at that time in my life I was pretty promiscuous...but Scott wasn't like that. We never slept together. It was just good, clean fun. Things got pretty intense for a lot of the couples and many of them remained together after the summer ended. In fact, a few years back two of the counselors who met that summer wound up getting married in Ireland (where he was from). Unfortunately that wasn't the case for Scott and myself. I was going back to school and I knew our time was fleeting. He came to me one night and suggested that he move to the United States so that we could get a place together. It kinda freaked me out because suddenly it all became really real...if that makes any sense...so I completely shut down on him. I treated him like shit and while I don't regret much in life...I do regret the way I treated him towards the end of that summer.

Well of course, life got busy and we'd keep in touch briefly through mass e-mails sent between counselors...but eventually those stopped coming and going.

To make a long story short, we lost touch for a while. Last time I heard from him was a couple of years ago and then a couple of weekends ago I was down in Modesto cleaning out my house when I found two letters he had written me the summer we were together. Memories came flooding back...there's nothing like a little summer lovin' from that past to make you all nostalgic...and then over the weekend I got an e-mail from him. I got all excited and e-mailled him back immediately.

The question is, now that we're both single...is it even worth exploring? It was so long ago...we've both changed so much...and we live half-way around the world from one another. Yet somehow I can't shake the memories of our summer together. It's probably just better to be cordial and check-in with another from time to time...

Personal Foul!

2009-02-05T08:21:00.001-08:00

The morning show I'm a part of is called Wayne, Jay and Reagan in the Morning. Technically there are 5 of us (we also have a producer/street guy and a mixer). Half of our show got to go to the Grammy's this weekend so Jay and I are here by ourselves. At first I was a little butt hurt about not being able to go but I went last year and really, once was enough. Trust me, going to the Grammy's is not as exciting as it sounds. You don't get to use the same entrance as the celebrities so you never see them...I sat in the 300's section of the Staples Center so the performers and presenters on the stage looked like ants...and the parking situation in downtown LA was a NIGHTMARE. It was definitely worth the experience of being able to say that I went but I had more fun that weekend doing other things. But for the record, I still don't think it's fair that half of our show got an exciting weekend in LA while Jay and I are here in rainy Sacramento. Personal foul!

Anyways, tonight we all got invited to the Sacramento Kings game in honor of Chris Webber retiring his jersey. Then he's having a retirement party afterwards at Center Court (his restaurant). Tomorrow I'm going to clean out my car if it kills me and Sunday I have ringside tickets to WWE RAW and ECW Road to Wrestlemania at Arco Arena. I don't really want to go but I saw that The Miz is going to be wrestling and I'm pretty sure that that's Mike from the Real World and Road Rules Challenges...which I think it pretty interesting.

In other news, you may have noticed that I took down a post I put on here earlier this week. It was an e-mail that I wrote my ex after we hung out on Super Bowl Sunday...after going back and reading it again, I decided that even I have some things I should keep to myself...plus, I don't want this to turn into a place where I come to vent about a relationship I got out of a year ago. What's the point? Moving on.

Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you that someone showed up at my house yesterday looking for my roommate. It was a younger-looking girl who had flown to Sacramento from Washington DC. When she showed up at my house, she said that my roommate was expecting her so I let her in to wait until my roommate got home from work...which in retrospect was probably not the right decision...but what was I supposed to do? Well, when my roommate came home, she went berserk! It was a mess...and now my roommate is upset with me. Like I said, she's in witness protection and the public defender's office wasn't supposed to be able to locate her but somehow they did. It was major drama in my house yesterday.

Needless to say, I'm glad that the weekend is here!

Bleh.

2009-02-02T06:09:00.000-08:00

Alright, let's get a little personal, shall we? I'm going to warn you now, this might be a little TMI for some of you as parts of it will be sexually explicit...but it's a real issue and I need to get it out. Here's what happened: my ex came up to Sacramento yesterday for the Super Bowl party I was telling you about (see last post). A few days before the game he tried to get me to engage in a little sexting...which as I understand it, is like phone sex executed via text messaging. I refused to participate because A). we're not together anymore and B). what good would it do? He was at work and we live an hour apart so it's not like the sexting would have or could have materialized into more. I told him that he needed to find someone he could have casual, meaningless, no strings attached sex with - but that that person wasn't me. It's not casual and meaningless to me...not when it comes to him...or when it comes to "us." I think that's a fundamental difference between men and women. So I turned him down even though it was extremely difficult. And I think he was surprised that I suggested he go search for ass elsewhere.

Then there was Saturday night...not long after I wrote the last post on here. We started texting back and forth to confirm times for Sunday and in a moment of temporary insanity...a complete lapse in judgment and common sense...I said that he could come up that night, after he got off work, and could stay the night. This was approximately 9:30 pm (around the time he was supposed to be leaving work...he's also a bartender on top of the modelling thing). He said had been thinking about coming up early but that the bar was still busy and he didn't think he'd be able to leave until more in the 10:30-11:00...then you'd have to add in an hour's worth of drive time...so we agreed that he should just come up Sunday morning before the game, but really he's the one who said no. Part of me felt rejected because I was the one who had thrown the offer out there and if he had wanted to come badly enough, he would have driven up no matter how late it was. I wasn't expecting him to say no but when he did, I figured it was a blessing in disguise because I knew (deep down) that it would have been a bad idea. I knew that one night of physical intimacy would have reversed some of the healing I've done since we split up a year ago. So I let it go and concluded that the window of opportunity had closed...the moment of temporary insanity had passed...and whether I felt slightly rejected or not, it was for the best.

Anyways, yesterday at the Super Bowl party it was just like old times. We were legitimately enjoying each other's company. I introduced him to my new co-workers...he held my hand and the more he drank, the more touchy feely he got. I was still a little bruised from being turned down Saturday night so I was determined to stand my ground on the "no hooking-up" rule, more than anything, just out of sheer spite. Plus, I didn't want to ruin the day we had just had...it was nothing short of perfect. We hadn't been able to hang out like that in a looooooong time. I felt like we made progress - real progress - towards building a friendship in the wake of our traumatic break-up.

When the game was over, we had both been drinking and as we were walking to our cars, he kissed me in the parking lot. Isn't it sad that that's all it took? He asked me if he could follow me back to my house to "make sure I got back alright" and of course, I said yes. It's almost painful for me to think about what happened after we left Center Court. It's something I'd rather just forget about at this point but I guess I might as well finish the story.

We got to my house and started watching Old School. By that point, we both knew what was going to happen next...

Next thing you know, we were upstairs going at it. He had had way more to drink than I had and even though I could taste the alcohol on his breath, he didn't seem out-of-control drunk. After about 30 minutes he lost all momentum...went totally limp...there, I said it. I felt like it was my fault. He kept saying that it was because he had been drinking but we have had sex in the past when he was way more intoxiacted than he was last night and that had never happened before...so it was weird. I couldn't help but think about the sexting conversation a couple of days prior that had failed to take-off and the night before the game when he had turned down my invitation to come to Sacramento and then, of course, the awkwardness of yesterday...it was messing with my head. He, on the other hand, was determined to keep it going so while I had completely checked out he was trying desperately to continue...which just made it even more frustrating. Finally I told him to stop. It wasn't working. We used to have such great sexual chemistry, we used to be so in-sync with one another...I kept wondering, had we lost all of that?

And just as we had arrived at a pivotal point in our day together, he did the worst thing I think he could possibly do...he just left. He didn't lay there and try to make conversation, he didn't try to console me or reassure me that it wasn't my fault. I can't say I blame him...I probably would have wanted to leave too. So now it's Monday morning and I haven't heard from him since he left last night. I guess, more than anything, I've realized that it's time to let go...I mean, really let go. Because I can't move on with my life while I'm still partially invested in the past and clearly the past has changed. We're not the same couple that used to be on fire for eachother. There's disconnect and awkwardness and rejection and once the system has been thrown out of balance, there isn't much than can be done realign everything. The sex was the one thing I knew we still had, the one good thing we could always come back to...which is a very unhealthy thing to cling to in a dying relationship...but it was something.

So I'm sitting at work this morning and I'm upset. I'm angry at myself for giving into the urge when I knew it was a bad idea and I promised myself I wasn't going to go there. I'm also sad that the last little spark from our flame has (seemingly) burned out. I know that if I'm going to let go, I have to let go 100% and not a single percent less. I owe it to myself to finally put the past three and a half years to rest so that I can focus all of my energy and attention on the future. But it's hard...just as hard right now as the day he left.

In life, sometimes we're the chasers and the clingers and the ones who will go down with the sinking ship rather than jump off to save ourselves. Other times we're the ones being chased. But whichever role we play, we have to know when it's time for the final curtain. And in all seriuosness, I know that that time has come for us...for the sake of my sanity and the sake of my happiness...for the sake of my future and for the sake of preserving the good memories I have from our time together.

And it also doesn't help that it's a Monday...bleh.

Just one of those weeks...

2009-01-31T20:35:00.000-08:00

On the morning show I do, we have a stunt guy named Juan Valdez. His job is to act like a moron and make people laugh. We sent him out on Friday with some High School Musical on Ice tickets and just because I think it's funny...here's a picture I took of him before he left to go out on the streets.

And speaking of work, here's a common misconception about radio personalities: that we lead very exciting and glamorous lives. The truth is that it's 8:36 on a Saturday night and I have no where to go, no one to hang out with. It's a lot lonelier than I ever thought it could be. I've lived here for 8 months and of course I've met some people...but I'm a homebody who likes being domestic...I miss having friends come over for drinks, dinner and movies on the couch. I miss sleep-overs and playing board games. Maybe it's the absence of the significant other that's left a gaping whole...a void...that I can't seem to fill. Or maybe it's just time to grow up and understand that in life you have to make sacrifices. I sacrificed the familiarity of home for the pursuit of a radio career. After four years, I still get homesick...especially on nights like tonight.

Anyways, speaking of the (ex) significant other...he's coming up here tomorrow to watch the Super Bowl. I have mixed feelings about it. We split up almost one year ago. Then a few weeks ago we spent Christmas and New Year's together which made me realize that we're past the point of no return...or so I thought. Then he started expressing an interest in coming to this Super Bowl Party with me. It's at a place called Center Court with an ex-NBA player named Chris Webber (he owns the restaurant). Anyways, I'm taking him to this event tomorrow, that I have to go to for work, which means he's going to meet all of my co-workers and he will officially exist in my "new life" in Sacramento. Up until this point, he's only been relevant in the context of my "old life" which was the life I had in Modesto. It's a bizarre collision...the past and the present. I don't know yet if taking him to our Big Game Party tomorrow is a smart idea. It could either go well...or...not well.

And to be completely honest, I have very selfish reasons for wanting him to come. For those of you who don't know, my ex is a male model. Not like an Armani underwear model...but like a McAfee Anti-Theft File Protection box model. Don't believe me? Check this out:

That's him. Walk into any Best Buy and you can pick up the box and see for yourself. He's also done work for GNC, Men's Wearhouse, Blue Marlin and a few other companies. Anyways, the point of all this is that the people I work with probably think I'm lying when I tell them what he does so I figure if he comes with me tomorrow, I can finally prove to everyone that I'm not making this stuff up. I can prove that he does exist and that, in fact, the chubby radio girl really did used to get it on with a hot tamale. I told you it was selfish. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Plus, I need to have a little fun...the past couple of days at work have royally sucked. I've had run-ins with rude callers (plural, as in there have been multiple), my boss, another co-worker and of course, then there's the information I learned about my roommate (see last post for that story)...so needless to say it's just been one of those weeks.

Go Steelers.

This is insane! Really, really insane!

2009-01-30T06:19:00.000-08:00

Just when I think my life can't possibly get any more crazy something like THIS (what I'm about to tell you) happens. Yesterday we had an in-studio with Katy Perry and before every interview, I try to do a little research...so as to avoid a run-in like the one I had with Jamie Kennedy. My Jamie Kennedy story is too long to go into right now but I will tell you this, it ended with me telling him that Punk'D was way better (and more successful) than the Jamie Kennedy Experiment, which is probably why people watched it and it didn't get cancelled the way his show did. I like to refer to that interview as the JK Smackdown. Whatever. He needed it.

Anyways, with Katy I was having to look a few things up to make sure I knew which Grammy category she was nominated for - it's Best Female Pop Vocal for I Kissed a Girl, in case you were wondering - stuff like that. I also had to think up of some new questions at the last minute because they sent over the list of off-limit-topics and of course, most of what I was going to ask her was on the list. No talking about Travis McCoy, no mentioning the Matrix cd on iTunes, etc...well, while I was doing my research I missed a call from an Unavailable number on my cell phone. After the interview I listened to the message and it was from the Public Defender's office in Washington DC.

Now, keep in mind...I got this call on my CELL PHONE. My heart stopped beating. My mind started racing. What the fuck have I done that I'm in trouble with the government for and an attorney is calling me on my cell phone for??? The message I got asked me to call them back and after a few moments of panic-stricken nail biting (see picture) .

BTW - My finger is sore today because I bit the nail so low. Anyways, when I called back the lady on the phone asked me to confirm that my roommate and I lived at 4239 Yadda Yadda Dr. I said yes and then asked if everything was ok. Keep in mind, she knew my name, my roommates name AND our exact address. She told me that everything was fine but that my roommate had been subpoenaed to testify in a hearing and she just needed to confirm our address.

After I got off the phone with her I sent a text to my roommate. I said, "Hey I just wanted to give you a heads up. I got a call from the public defender's office in DC and they wanted to confirm your/our address...everything ok?" She texted me right back with, "What did you tell them?" At that point, I knew something was up. I wrote her back, "They totally caught me off-guard...they knew our names and address so I said yes...that we lived there."

Then she called me.

Are you ready for what I'm going to tell you next? Hold on to your hats my friends...

She explained to me that she's in witness protection because she has to testify on behalf of the prosecution for a MURDER trial coming up in March. She explained to me the difference between federal witness protection (when you have to change your identity and cut-off all contact with people from your past) and just regular witness protection when the government pays for you to move somewhere and they help protect your identity so that if someone tries to look you up, they won't be able to find you...or at least, they'd have a hard time tracking you down. Unfortunately, my roommate just bought a car...they traced it to our address...then to my name on the lease...and then to my CELL PHONE number. How creepy is that? They aren't supposed to be able to find her but because she used her real name when she bought her car they traced her (through me) and now she said the District Attorney's office in DC might have to relocate her again. AND, to top it off, the public defender who is trying to prove the murderer's innocence (the person she is testifying against) knows where we live!

Someone upstairs must get a big kick out of putting me in awkward living situations. What am I supposed to do now? Seriously, what do I do? Part of me feels like she should have mentioned that she's in witness protection before she moved-in with me but then I guess that would kind of defeat the purpose of being a protected witness, right? Am I at risk? Am I in danger? Oh fuck me sideways with a wooden spoon! Don't get me wrong, I love her to death...she's a great roommate...but FUCK. What do I do? Nothing? Something? And if so, what?

Just when I thought I had gotten all of the psycho roommate situations out of my system! Not that she's psycho, but I mean the situation...it's kinda psycho. This is the kind of stuff you see in movies. And I've already survived one super duper crazy (like, mental) roommate...WTF?

Oh Holy Hell.

2009-01-19T10:58:00.000-08:00

I haven't checked in for a few days. The good news is that now I have a lot to talk about. The bad news is that most of it is going to be stress-filled whining and complaining. Take it or leave it. Honestly, I'm not even sure where to start. Might as well start with this morning. It was raining when I woke up. My other dog (not Parker) is named Moxie and she has been crapping all over my house when I leave to go to work...I guess she gets very nervous and/or anxious...anyways, I decided I probably needed to start crating her again when I leave and I thought that her crate was in the trunkof my car. When I went to get it, it wasn't there. So I decided to take her to with (it's just for one day, right?) and off we went. I stopped for coffee at Starbucks around 4:55 am and as I was sitting in line at the drive-thru...yes, there was a line at the Starbuks drive-thru at 4:55 in the morning...I saw the KCRA news van sitting not too far away. There as a reporter and a camera guy standing in the rain...obviously doing a segment about the rain....guess it was a slow news day. The whole time I was thinking to myself, "Oh holy hell! They better not think they're going to interview me with NO makeup on and a head full of unwashed hair piled on top of my head!"

Sure as shit, as I got my cup of coffee and tried to pull forward, the young perky reporter (in full makeup, in the rain, in her cute little rain suit) all but jumped in front of my car to flag me down. The camea guy ran up, shoving his camera in my face and she started asking me moronic questions like, "What does the rain mean to you?" and "I see you drive a convertible, guess you won't be putting the top down today, how else is the rain affecting your plans?" Keep in mind it was 4:55 in the morning, I had crusty's in both eyes AND saying that I looked like a homeless person would be an understatement. I probably looked more like someone who had just escaped from the insane asylum! I'm not kidding...I'm not one of those girls who can get away with not wearing any makeup. I applaud those who can, but I ain't one of them. When you work in radio, it gives youthe perfect excuse to say oh fuck it, I get up at the ass crack of dawn and I'm going to go to work looking like a looney tune if I feel like it!

So I continue on to work, praying the whole way that they'll cut out my interview...not likely considering they LOVED that I had Moxie in the car with me.

To make a long story short...I have no idea if they ever wound up airing it...but it was a nightmare, worst-case-scenario if I've ever experienced one.

Add in to the mix the fact that I feel generally overwhelmed right now...a feeling that always seems to coincide with PMS and comes close to invoking a full-blown anxiety attack. I bite all my nails off. I'm like a raging hormone-aholic. And to top it off, I just finished my bag of peanuts as I stumbled across an article about Salmonella in peanut butter. Oh holy hell. Wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake?

There is one little beacon of positivity I'd like to mention. I have successfully written my first screenplay. Don't laugh. I'm trying to find people (I trust) to read and help me revise it right now. Who knows, maybe someday I'll be brave enough to post it on here...

Anyways, the main reason I wanted to check-in on here is to get this out of my system. Here's the deal: I mentioned earlier that while I was living in Modesto I very stupidly bought a house there. This, of course, was right before the housing market crashed so I am upside down on it right now...and when I say upside down...I mean, like $65,000 upside down. Since I can't sell it, I've been renting it out. The two guys who were living there both decided to move out recently (one went down to San Diego and the other bought a house of his own). I've been looking for new tenants and the whole process is making me bat shit crazy.

The major problem is that my mortgage and HOA's are about $1450 per month but other places in my neighborhood are renting for $1000. Trying to be crafty, I thought I could get more bang for the buck by renting out both rooms individually and including utilities in the rent (since they're all still in my name) to make it sound like a great deal. I've been charging $700 for the master bedroom and $600 for the smaller one. It doesn't take a math whiz to see that even though I'm getting $1300 for the place, I'm still minus $150 per month PLUS all of the utilities on the place....so all in all, I'd say it's about $300 out of my pocket every month just to hold on to the place until the market turns back around.

Follow?

Anyways, I have found two females who want to move in on February 1st and so far they have managed to royally piss me off over petty, insignificant crap. It'll get me too worked up to go into all of the details of it right now so I'm going to stop....

And for the sake of your sanity and mine, I'm going stop bitching and I'm going to leave you with a picture I took of Moxie hanging out in the studio with me today...so damn cute!

And isn't it ironic...don't ya think?

2009-01-13T08:39:00.000-08:00

Well, of all the ironies in life...

A couple of months ago I was told that I'd be doing mornings AND middays at the new radio station I work for. I'm on the air from 5:30 in the morning until 2:00 in the afternoon. It's not manual labor or even slightly difficult work but it is double the hours I was previously working for no extra money. Our morning show ends at 10:00 and while I watch my partners head home between 11:00 and 11:30, I can't help but get a little bitter...knowing that I still have a couple of hours to go.

Listen, I'm not delusional. A monkey could do my job. It's not hard. And I'm employed, which I'm extremely thankful for right now...so I hope this doesn't come off sounding too whiny. I know this is part of the due-paying process and I'm prepared to pay them diligently.

Anyways, here in Sacramento we get our ratings every three months. Our ratings tell us "how good of a job we're doing" even though the data is semi-accurate (at best). I will have you know that my midday show, is the #1 rated midday show in all of Sacramento...which is great...but it would definitely be greater if it meant I'd be getting something for it! And isn't it ironic, don't ya think?

It was still exciting. I went out to celebrate last night by taking Parker to get his doggie enema (insert sarcasm here). It had been a whole week since he had taken a dump. When he finally crapped, it came out looking like chocolate pudding (enjoy your Snack Pack today) and I dry heaved all around the outside, dog-walking area at his vet's office. Another $70 spent and all they did was stick a nozzle up his backside and squirt some liquid in him...rip off!

So I guess the moral of the story is that sometimes being #1 is only good for a pat on the back...and sometimes you're better at the things you weren't hired to do...but at least my dog FINALLY had a bowel movement!

PS - I have discovered a major problem with my Snuggie. It generates/creates more static than a damn turbine! I still like it. I still get made fun of for wearing it. It's not about the fashion my friends, it's all about the comfort.

I love my Snuggie.

2009-01-12T06:37:00.000-08:00

Now, before you judge my decision to buy a Snuggie, let me explain how I got this ----------------->

We've all seen the commercial on TV and whether you're willing to admit it or not, at least a small part of you has thought, "Man...I could use that Snuggie when I'm _________" (insert laying on the couch, camping, at the game, or whatever other action verb you choose to partake in). Most of us, however, would never actually call the 800 number and buy one.

Flash forward to 5:00 this morning. I stopped at Walgreen's to buy a Diet Coke before work and wouldn't you know...there on the shelf...in all their glory...was a display of Snuggie's! It was early, the store was empty and no one would see me buy it, so I tucked one under my arm and marched up to the check-out. The guy laughed at me (which is exactly what I would expect him to do) and then I came to work. As I'm sitting here typing this, I'm wearing my Snuggie and I will not lie...I LOVE it. It's very warm. It's like a full body fleece poncho with sleeves to stick your arms through. I wish it clasped in the back somehow but oh well.

PS - Parker still hasn't taken a dump.

PPS - They also sell an assortment of other "As Seen on TV" products at Walgreens...Kinoki Foot Pads, Ped Eggs, Aqua Globes, etc. I will be going back after work today to buy more useless crap!

Parker Poop.

2009-01-11T17:23:00.000-08:00

Puppy is still pitiful. They took his cast off his leg this morning, which means they also took his Fentanyl patch off...a morphine pain patch which, incidentally, causes constipation. Parker hasn't crapped since Tuesday and now I'm having to give him canned pumpkin from the grocery store to try and make him poop. If that doesn't work, we're going to have to resort to a doggie enema!?!? I didn't even know those existed. I can tell his little tummy hurts because it's making all kinds of funny noises. I'm feeding him canned pumpkin at every meal because the last thing I want to do is put a nozzle up my dog's ass so he can spray poo all over the place. Gross. I get the willies just thinking about it. At least we're almost a full week into the "healing process" which means he'll be back to his old self in no time.

On a completely unrelated note, I'm faced with a big decision right now. I've been in California for almost 4 years now. Recently, my dad has proposed that we go into business together. He would be the investing partner and I would be the managing partner. It would mean leaving behind my life in the wild west to go back home. I've started making a list of pro's and con's on both sides. I'm looking for definitive clarity. It's nowhere to be found.

Since I've been working in radio I've met some of the most famous people in the world. I've been to the Grammy's. I've gone on two free cruises to Mexico. I've done New Year's in Lake Tahoe and run wild through the streets of San Francisco. I've met amazing people. I've gotten lots of free stuff. I've been in three TV commercials and I've seen Bobby Lee naked. I'd have to give all of that up. On the flip side, I've always dreamed of owning my own business and now my dad is offering me the chance to achieve that goal without me having to come up with all of the money I'd have to have (which I don't have) if I were trying to do it by myself.

I won't be making the decision any time in the near future. It's definitely something I'll be marinating over for the next couple of months. Life is about making decisions and the hard part is not knowing in advance if you're making the best choice. What if I get home and hate it? What if I pass on the chance to go home and the window of opportunity closes and I wind up kicking myself for not going? What if I walk away from radio and miss out on a huge career? I make myself crazy with these questions...

Well, tomorrow it's back to the grind. Let's all hope Parker has a bowel movement tonight!

Seriously, did that really just happen?

2009-01-09T18:12:00.000-08:00

Today was one of those very strange days that leaves you scratching your head and asking, "Seriously, did that really just happen?" We had a guy named Bobby Lee come in (he's one of the MADtv cast members) because he's doing a stand-up comedy tour and is performing at the Punchline in Sacramento all weekend. I've seen a lot of random things happen in the few short years I've been working in radio but the randomness of today left me speechless...literally.

I don't remember what provoked it, but out of nowhere, Bobby Lee decided to get naked in the middle of our studio. When he started taking off his shirt, I laughed. When he started unzipping his pants, I laughed harder. When he dropped his pants, I expected to see his chones but there were none. He stood there, BUTT ASS NAKED, in the middle of the room...and of course I grabbed my cell phone and started taking pictures!

I still laugh uncontrollably when I look at the picture...and I know I could never do the story justice, when I tell it in the future, without photographic evidence to prove that it actually happened. Seriously, did that really just happen?

I also learned a very important message over the past couple of days. I have learned that taking a small cute dog (Parker) with a cast on his leg (see picture in last post) to work with me has made me quite popular. I was riding up the elevator earlier today and there was a super hot guy who decided to tell me all about his Rottweiler (sp) who had a similar surgery due to a torn ligament in his knee. I decided at that point that, injured or not, Parker will wear his cast indefinitely and I will bring him to work with me everyday. When super hot guy got off on the 3rd floor, I looked at Parker and gave him a little mini high five for a job well done! Nice work, my friend.

The things we do for love...

2009-01-07T18:36:00.000-08:00

This is the reason (above) I sold my California King Sleep Number Bed by Select Comfort. The $6,000 bed I got FOR FREE when I endoresed Sleep Train Mattress Center was one of my most prized possessions...I had to sell one "love of my life" to pay for the other love of my life's surgery. The things we do for love...

I slept on the couch for a few nights before deciding that was not fun...at all...so I went to one of those factory direct warehouses and bought a new bed for less than I sold my old one for. The guys at the "store" were acting like shady used-car salesmen so I decided to threaten them to get them to act right. Now, I'm not a "you don't know who you're messing with" kind of person but in the face of feeling completely screwed with and taken advantage of, I pulled out my trump card. I said, "If you guys try to fuck me over, I swear to God I will go on the radio and tell all of Sacramento how seedy, sketchy and shitty your business is. If you think I'm joking, try me."

Needless to say, I wound up leaving with the bed I wanted at a price I was willing to pay.

I use the word "store" in air quotes because it wasn't really a store at all...more like some Mafia run, back-alley, illegal operation staffed with meat-head guidos accessorized in gold chains and other token bling items. I don't really care where all the stuff came from so long as I don't have to give my bed back without a full refund. If the police come knocking, I'm singing like a canary.

Anyways, not much is going on this week. I have to go to Modesto on Saturday to show my house to new potential renters. I found out today that my Homeowner's Association is suing the builder's of our neighborhood for faulty and/or negligent construction and I got forms in the mail today from an attorney's office about the situation. One of the things I'm hoping to learn how to do this year is get rich quick so I may be well on my way...who knows! A girl can dream...

And finally, in a strange turn of events...said "ex" who broke my heart (see last post) has seemingly had a change of heart...perhaps not fully, but I will explain more later. I don't feel lik getting into it right now.

Already late.

2009-01-03T19:25:00.000-08:00

It's January 3rd which means I'm already three days late starting this. I used to write posts on Myspace but I had to be careful about what I said. I guess there are just some things that not everyone needs to know...like my dad...more specifically...who began reading them. So I'm back to where I started - on here. It was this exact same site I used to come to, almost four years ago, when I first moved to California to write about my new life in the wild west. I wish I could find some of those old posts. They would probably be good for a laugh. It's hard for me to remember the first few months I spent out here. It all feels like a lifetime ago. It's like I have memories of certain events that took place...but I'm not convinced they were actually real.

Well, let's start at the beginning for the newcomers.

I'm a radio dj. That's why I moved to California in the first place. My real name is Megan but I go by Reagan on the radio. It's an alias (most of us use them) and sometimes an alter-ego. The very short version of a long story goes something like this:

May of 2005 - Graduated from college and moved to Modesto...yes THAT Modesto...to co-host a morning show on a radio station. It's a very smll town with a bad reputation, for good reason. I worked with two assholes who I didn't like very much. I didn't like them because they tried to get me fired. But of all the great ironies in life, their plan backfired. One of them got fired, the other got taken off of mornings and moved to afternoons. I got to start a new chapter with a new partner. He was much easier to work with and we took our show to number 1 in a very short period of time. I made more money, got a promotion, became a music director, bought a house, fell in love with a boy and subsequently, got my heart broken...not necessarily in that order.

This all lead to a job offer in Sacramento, CA.

(Side note: Modesto is #108 as far as radio markets go. There are approximately 317 Arbitron rated radio markets in the U.S. The lower the number, the bigger the market. New York City is #1 and the Florida Keys are #317, just to put it all in perspective. Sacramento is #27 which was a huge jump for me. I was beyond excited about making the jump.)

May 2008 - Accepted job in Sacramento.

June 2008 - Moved to Sacramento.

September 2008 - Company transferred me to a different station, still in Sacramento, just working with different people.

November 2008 - Was told I'd be doing mornings AND middays for no extra pay. This means I'm on the air from 5:30 in the morning until 2:00 in the afternoon. But hey, I'm lucky to be employed and sometimes I like doing both. I just wish pulling double-duty meant I'd be getting paid a double salary. So far, that's a no-go.

January 2009 - The present.

In the first three days of 2009 I have successfully read the entire screenplay of Revolutionary Road online, which is amazing. I also sold my California King Sleep Number bed by Select Comfort to pay for my dogs second knee surgery (which means I have nothing to sleep on right now) and I have entered to win the HGTV dream home three times at www.hgtv.com - I am harnessing the power of The Secret to help me win it.

This year is going to be interesting.