Overheard in TV World

Female TV Producer 1: You bought a 600 dollar pair of boots?!
Female TV Producer 2: (Pause) Yeah.
Female TV Producer 1: The ones with the buckle?
Female TV Producer 2: Yeah.
Female TV Producer 1: Oh. That's a good buy.

One-Day Weekend

It is finally Saturday, which is my Friday. I've been working 12 hour days, six days per week, with a 30-60 minute drive (each way) to work and back. I have about 1 hour of free time per day, which I spend getting ready for work and getting ready for bed. This work probably makes up for my brief lapse of employment. TV is hard work! But, I'm having fun, making a ton of friends and business contacts and learning a lot.

Tomorrow will be pure pleasure.

Quiet Disapproval

My Sister Has Diabetes: A fictional journal entry of a twelve-year-old boy

I’m sitting in the living room as my little sister (she’s 11) and mom are in the kitchen, listening to some loud, blond lady with glasses show my sister how to use a new “pump” for her diabetes. My sister thinks she’s sooo great because she has special needs. She always is putting insulin in her stomach after we eat and showing off.

All of my friends ask me about it and ask why I don’t have to put cool needles in my stomach. They say “Why don’t you have to do anything cool because of a disease? Your sister does.” I say, “Shut up! Anxiety and depression don’t require needles.” But nobody understands.

My sister gets all the attention because she’s so stupid. No one ever came over to the house to show me how to take my Prozac pills. Jeez. She’s such an attention hog. She’s so cool. She told me good job when I finally conquered Call of Duty 2 for the Wii. She knows things like carbohydrates and sucrose. She’s awesome. I hate that she gets all of the attention. I have a lot of good things that people should know about so I get attention, but my sister hogs it all like a hog in the family slopyard.

I can’t wait until this stupid, blond lady leaves our kitchen. I want to make peanut butter toast in there. She keeps talking to my sister and my mom like she knows everything. But there’s one thing she doesn’t know – that she doesn’t know everything.

My sister’s diabetes pump is so cool. It beeps like a video game or something. But I’m not jealous. I have a watch with the Froot Loops bird on it. That beeps too – when there’s batteries in it – and everyone likes that (or used to like it before my sister’s pump came along). I’m going to go put it on just to show her she’s not the only one with a cool beeping toy. CU L8R.

Looking Up

Today began in a way that let me know it could only get better. I awoke, stepped out of bed, and kicked over a full glass of delicious water onto my carpet. After relishing the science of a towel’s ability to soak up the spill, I walked into the kitchen and pretended it didn’t happen. And perhaps it really didn’t.

Hell's Kitchen, white Christmas and the first 48 hours

Once again, it has been so long since I have blogged. Why is that? I have a job! That’s right. I’m an outstanding Production Assistant for Fox TV’s “Hell’s Kitchen”. So far, it’s pretty darn good and should keep me employed through possibly the end of March. So, if you are planning on asking me for money, try to do it before the end of March, to increase your chances of great fortune.

Speaking of great fortune, I have the great fortune of being in Fargo, ND – my hometown – right now! I’m sitting next to a real Christmas tree by a bay window looking out at a bunch of beautiful whiteness. And that’s not just the predominantly white citizens of Fargo. It snowed three inches the day I arrived, so I’m guaranteed a white Christmas, which is exactly what I ordered from “Hutch”, the local weather man.

Thus far, I’ve played Scrabble, drank Guinness, slept with a cat in someone else’s bed, played a guitar, played a washboard (not my abs), played Mario Kart, jumpstarted a car with a British flag on the roof, argued about pizza, argued with a pizza, got bit by a dog and had fun with family and friends. And that’s just the first 48 hours! Looking forward to more!

Loose Thoughts: "Accidentally Stupid"

Sometimes I question whether some people with whom I spend my time think I'm as smart and skilled as I know I am. (Just the fact that I wrote such a complicated sentence should be proof enough.) 

So, I often act casually as I try to prove that I am indeed smart or skilled with this or that thing. In doing so, I frequently make mistakes that wouldn't have happened if I had not tried so hard to look casual. 

Therefore, I trip on the words I speak as I explain something complex or I tip over lamps while trying to accomplish daring dance feats or I cruise over curbs while taking sharp corners in a residential street. 

Sometimes my brain is a paranoid robot of insecurity that spins into an electric cyclone of dismayed gears. But most times it's not. I like those times the best.