Friday, June 22, 2012

yummy samoan

...Quick blog post, anyone?

I love Fridays! I'm sitting at my desk, eating an apple, and enjoying a little bit of Corinne Bailey Rae as I work on some development boards for our production company. Well, that, and planning my attack for this weekend.

Watch out Dan & Frasier... because I am HGTV-ing the crap out of the apartment this weekend. Finally my various Pinterest board inspirations and IKEA trips will come to a beautiful fruition. I've got notes on legal pads, packages arriving, and DIY projects lined up for the next couple of days. We'll see how much I get done/how unmotivated I will feel when I realize I have twenty-three episodes of Gilmore Girls to watch on my DVR...

Pictures to come.

Don't be surprised if this is what my place looks like! (...actually, be very surprised.)

Speaking of television...

I bought my first TV. Because I am an adult. And that's what adults do. They own televisions.

I finally got rid of the 27-inch big box TV that was rolling around in the back of my car. After living it's television-life for EIGHT MONTHS in the back of my Jimmy-- it was kicked to the curb--- literally. After pulling out of my garage at work, I stopped by a random apartment that is often home to unwanted furniture (and was unfortunately surrounded by a group of jogging UCLA students taking a break), dropped the television on the grass, and sped off. It was awkward for everyone. I guess someone wanted it... because the next morning by 9:30 it was gone! 

My NEW TV was delivered this morning and I cannot be more excited to get home and see it in all its' 40-inch glory. Heaven.

I mean... what are credit cards for anyways?

(...there was nothing on my credit card at the time... that was just a flippant irresponsible-twenty-something-joke... calm down.)

I decided last week to finally start watching Game of Thrones! This is really quite an accomplishment, as I usually like to watch series years after they have been taken off the air (see: Gilmore Girls). So at work during my lunch breaks, I started watching Game of Thrones on a co-worker's HBO GO account. At first I had the same visceral feelings that others have when watching it... "Oh my gosh! The blood! The humanity! The never-ending scenes of boobs!" Two episodes in and I was getting kind of into it. But to be honest all I really care about is Peter Dinklage. That man is a hero. Oh and the big yummy Samoan. (**Not to be confused with a girl scout cookie)

Then I watched episodes 3 and 4. And I was lost. I hated it. "Who's that? Oh gosh, what are they doing? What's going on? That guy died? When!? Boobs!"

Wednesday night I went to dinner with my very best friendtor, Gretchen, and explained my embarrassed anguish for being the only known human that doesn't get Game of Thrones. She, being the superfan that she is, took pity on me. 

Gretchen: Well... now that you're not going to watch it... it's too bad-- because there's this tall bad-ass warrior woman named... 
Me: Wait. I know her. I saw her.
...And then we realized I had watched episodes 3 and 4 of SEASON TWO. 

Turns out I hadn't scrolled all the way through the episode selections. Silly girl.

Then I started acting like I had seen the last episode of Girls (which I apparently hadn't). I had read an article that Judd Apatow had tweeted and even recited the line to Gretchen, "My favorite was when Hannah yelled at Marnie, 'I have been thirteen pounds overweight my entire life and it has been really hard!' Haha! Wasn't that hilarious?" 

...Then Gretchen pointed out that that was actually in an argument with her boyfriend... and then mentioned the plot of the final episode... and we realized, yet again, I hadn't actually seen that episode, but rather inserted that line I read into an episode I had thought was the finale. 

I am such a square.

Gretchen: Jenny ...Do you know how to watch TV?

...apparently not. I don't deserve a nice TV. (Yes I do and I love it).

By the way, Girls is the most important show for women on TV right now. Thank the Spice Girl-gods that brought Lena Dunham to the world of television. After watching a fantasized view of women on Sex and the City for so many years... I am comforted with a somewhat realistic depiction of the unfortunate situations that upper-middle class women in their early twenties face. Genius. And very brave. (...And just as many boobs as Game of Thrones, I might add-- but the real-life kind.) But yes, I do love having a show to relate to. As Gretchen said, "Life sucks. Even when it doesn't suck that much."

Alright... off I go to conquer my commute.

Kisses, all!

Monday, June 18, 2012

june gloom

In the last week and a half I have uncontrollably cried in front of a parking attendant, watched a 73-year-old man in assless-leather-chaps sing Like a Rhinestone Cowboy ten times, chopped off seven inches of hair, and played my first round of real-life-not-on-a-Sega-Genesis roulette game.

I am living the life.

Then FLASH, BANG, ALACAZAM--- Jenny was back yet again, writing away. (Didn't she say she wasn't going to write anymore? buzzbuzzbuzz). I listen to Aretha Franklin and Chaka Khan, you guys. I'm a woman. It's my prerogative to change my mind. 

You may notice my lovely new blog update. Simple, sophisticated, and understated... wouldn't you say? My dear friend Belinda took it upon herself to re-design my look and I couldn't be happier. She specializes in website design so you can imagine how endlessly unamused she was with my choice of generic fonts, colors, backgrounds, etc. Belinda's the best. It's important to have classy friends. Classy friends keep you classy. 

Time for some stories!

Story #1 Update #1 My hair. It's short. Shorter than I prefer, but long enough to still feel like myself. I am seven-inches-of-hair lighter and I do feel great. 

Me and my good friend, Peach Bellini in Caesar's Palace this weekend. 
Story #1 I have bizarre crying tendencies. I do not cry when I am in heated arguments. I do not cry in front of people when they decide to trample on my heart for whatever sort of reason -- be it ending relationships or being told sad news. I'm a regular ice queen in the heat of confrontation and empty promises. But if I break a rule... or if someone tells me I did something wrong... and I DON'T KNOW THEM AT ALL.... I will cry. And it will be completely involuntary and I will be inconsolable. 

Exhibit A: A few months ago I cried at my new optometrist because he told me I owed him $110 instead of the $40 I expected to pay. Thinking he was taking advantage of my naivety and sweet demeanor, I broke down in tears at the welcome counter and expressed my distaste for his 'LA slick talking' and lack of concern for my budget. 

...He then explained that this was a new optometry rule effective everywhere: a contact lens fitting is required in order to get a contact lens prescription and the mandated cost is $70. 

Ahem. Right. The good news? He gave me a free box of contacts because I cried. Like I was a five-year-old who just got a shot or something. I'm okay with this.

Exhibit B: Last Friday morning I had an early breakfast date with my friend Beau. I found a cheap place in Century City-- that was only cheap because the parking around it started at $3 for each 15 minutes. After zooming in and out of various parking structures and lingering too long in one of them (an unfortunate $2 for a whole 2 MINUTES later), I quickly messaged Beau to meet me in Beverly Hills instead, as there are several structures that give you two free hours of parking. 

I pulled into the structure, grabbed my ticket, and met Beau at Le Pain Quotidien-- one of my very favorite cafes. An hour and a cappuccino later, Beau and I headed out to go our separate ways for work. And I had lost my parking ticket. In an hour. I got to the window and I was a pressure cooker of emotion. And then I just sat there. And cried. I'm not sure why, but I just cried. It was probably a combination of my realization of the irony of paying $24 for parking in order to avoid what would have been $10-12 in Century City. That and the fact that I paid $24 to park my car. For an hour. 

The guy felt really bad and was very nice to me, explaining that he would let me go if he could. I made sure he understood that I am only a cry baby when (a) I'm in trouble and (b) when I know I will never see the person again-- which he said he regretted--- with a wink. 

Thanks, parking attendant. 

Story #2  I attended my first awkward work outing. Not awkward because I was with work colleagues, but rather the content of the evening. We went to see a Tony Clifton show in Hollywood. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Tony Clifton, he's an old Las Vegas lounge singer character that Andy Kaufman originated in the 70s. Tony Clifton is loud, obnoxious, rude, and incredibly inappropriate. Andy Kaufman insisted to audiences that he was not Tony Clifton, and had his friend Bob Zmuda play Tony Clifton on stage so that he could interact with him. After Kaufman's death, Zmuda continued to perform as Tony Clifton as an homage to Andy Kaufman and to keep the character alive. Here's a link to a clip from Man on the Moon with Jim Carrey as Andy Kaufman interacting with Zmuda as Tony Clifton. Pretty interesting. 

Now Bob Zmuda is in his seventies and still performing Tony Clifton in LA-- and the show is as raunchy as ever.  Our production company is close with Zmuda and got some great seats at the Comedy Store on Sunset. I was thrilled to be invited. We knew it was going to be inappropriate and slightly uncomfortable... but it was ten times worse than I expected. Every song that Clifton performed was partnered with a girl who stripped down completely to pasties on stage... then followed with some of the most horrifying jokes I have ever heard. I don't mind risque humor, it's just that it's a bit shocking in a work environment... with me in my I'm-out-with-bosses-taking-myself-seriously-outfit complete with blazer and my hair pulled back in a tight Spanish au-pair-esque bun. 

The second act started off with a bang with assless-leather chaps and a matching thong, and Clifton singing Like a Rhinestone Cowboy on repeat between pelvic thrusts and multiple shots of Jack Daniels. It... was... a very bizarre evening. 

So, old men in chaps aside, life has been relatively wrinkle-free. (...too much?) Alison and Connie visited from Arizona last weekend and we had a BALL eating and flea marketing and laughing and movie-watching. I really wish they were closer, I miss them everyday. 

Alright, I should go. I'm exhausted sitting at my desk right now... I had a quick little turn around trip to Las Vegas this weekend to visit my friend and see her show. It was bloody hot there and reminded me how glad I am to NOT be in Tucson for the summers anymore. Have I mentioned how much I LOVE Los Angeles weather? Because I do. I'm in love with June Gloom and I don't care who knows it!! 

Happy Monday, friends! Kisses!

Monday, June 4, 2012

long bob lob

Today is my one year anniversary with Los Angeles.


How did that happen!? Part of me feels like it went by so fast and the other part is thinking... "dear God, it's only been a year?!"


It's been one of the greatest years of my life, that's for certain. Truly being out on your own in the world is the most delicious feeling. Not owing anything to anyone--- just doing what feels right and making yourself proud. And hey, I am certainly proud of myself. 

I came out here, lived on a couch in West-Hollywood for two months, got my first apartment in Studio City, interned with a fabulous comedy theatre and made lifetime friends and "friend-tors", became the assistant director (Über) at the best darn theatre summer camp in the world and was lucky enough to travel to different states and high schools to tell everyone about it, joined an all-female sketch group with some delightfully hilarious women, fell a little bit in love, helped consolidate loan debt for the silliest job I have EVER worked, got my teenage-dream-job at LUSH and pampered myself with yummy products and sweet ladyfriends, went to my first NFL game, made it onto the most RIDICULOUS musical chairs game show ever with one of my best friends, wrote dating advice for a relationship website, helped pull together a successful social media campaign for the SAG Awards AND got to experience all of the glamour of the red carpet and live show and after party, and have now successfully landed my very first real job on salary that I love. 

It's been a great year and I am a lucky girl. I've got lots of big plans for the next LA chapter... Among some---

  • Run a half marathon ("Wait a second... didn't she say she was going to do this last year?" Yes yes, I did. but I was a little preoccupied... or some other grumbly excuse)
  • Help with development on new projects with producers at work
  • Go all interior-designer-crazy on my apartment
  • Start saving for a newer-used-not-stick-shift-car (my left leg has about 48% more muscle density thanks to my clutching up and down the Hollywood hills all the time)
  • Visit my sister in BOSTON!
  • Audition for Groundlings--- start taking classes
  • Pull together my first stand-up set
  • Go sailing
  • Visit wine country

...Alright, now I'm just throwing random things in. But you get the picture. And of course, I plan on continuing all my other silly little loves and favorites along the way (laser tag, popcorn, San Francisco, Frasier the cat, the list goes on). 

So anyways, LA! I live here, you guys. Just last night after a very hot date seeing Moonrise Kingdom (with my mom), I was driving back through Hollywood on the 101 in disbelief that this is home. It's been very bizarre realizing I am staying in LA. I'm so used to moving around all of the time and switching jobs, etc. and now I've hit that adult point where I'm supposed to start settling down a bit. 

WHOA there! I don't mean settling down. I just mean this is when you stay in jobs longer and build little adult-friend communities. My roots are now a little less nomadic than usual. I still want to live in NYC and San Francisco before all that settling nonsense shows up so don't worry. I'm still up for a few good years of wild adventuring. (Though I fully plan on lifelong traveling and adventures. Hopefully just with a handsome old man who likes to dance by my side). (P.S. He'll only be old because I, too, will be old. Just to straighten that out). 

Just as a heads up, I'm not 100% sure if I'm going to keep writing frequently on this blog or not. I've been spending my free time reading these days instead of writing. But we'll see. I don't like making writing rules, so I just write whatever and whenever I feel like it. Which I realize isn't very fun for avid blog readers (like myself). No one likes a flighty blog writer. I may pop in every now and then to fill you in on dumb stories.

Speaking of dumb stories... who wants to hear how I fried my hair?

Yup. You do. 

I'll say it -- I have some free time at work from time to time. Sometimes I spend it catching up on emails, reading books on my handy dandy iPad, browsing through my favorite blogs... and sometimes--- sometimes I watch hair how-to videos.

For those of you who are familiar with my hair you know that a) it's never been colored b) it's very fair and c) it's very long and flowy. Or was.

In my daily blog perusal, I stopped by Gwyneth Paltrow's website GOOP and watched a video that outlined how to do your own "blowout" on your hair. Now, I realize that my hair is already straight as can be. I was just hoping for a little more glamorous OOMPH and volume.

So Friday morning after my cycling class, I washed my hair like normal and put plenty of mousse and heat protectant spray in it. Then I sectioned it off and while it was still very damp, started blowdrying the crap out of it. I was using the same brush I always use and snapped the adaptor onto the hair dryer. This is when the smoke started--- or what I thought was steam. I mean... it didn't smell like burning hair... just burning product, like what all salons smell like. And boy was I getting a lot of volume! It looked pretty great. Until I got to work... and realized that the ends of my hair smelled like Nair and were completely crispy. That night when I showered bits of my hair were breaking off into my hands. I was horrified.

Horrified and smelly. And sad. I've got at least two inches that have got to go and I am not happy about it. Hmph.

My hair appointment is on Friday. I'm hoping I can keep it as long as possible but at this point it isn't looking good. My hair currently goes more than halfway down my back and I'm thinking my new 'do may be just below my shoulder-- just to make everything look fresh and healthy. I'm warming up to the idea now. I could use a new look. And hey-- I like being different. Here's what I'm thinking:

Apparently this is called a 'lob' or a long bob. Which of course made me chuckle when I was searching "long bob lob", for any Arrested Development fans out there. Friday can't come soon enough... I'll post an updated hair pic later. (...I'm sure you're all sitting on the edge of your seats). Bye long hair!

(this was taken in January, too. So you can imagine how long it is now. Obviously all this hair business is incredibly important to me...blahblahblah)

In other news, I literally have the most epic story of all time... ANDDDD I can't tell you anything about it. It's been killing me. I can say that I will be on national television though. And that it will be the most ridiculous thing you have ever seen. It was one of the most amazing days of my life. ...And I promise I'll tell you when it's time to tune in! It's good. Trust me. 

Becca (my roommate) just got this crazy great job in Santa Rosa! She's actually going to be moving out in less than two weeks... so my dear friend Dan has moved in to our humble little living room for his summer internships in LA. Dan and I have known each other five years now thanks to the Charles Darwin Experience at the University of Arizona. After years of performing with each other we are now braving the land of roommate-ship. It's been an easy transition though-- kind of like living with a brother. Dan will take over the lease for Becca for the rest of the summer after she moves out! Lots of changes happening. I've also really been trying to make the place look chic, too, now that I know I'm staying put. Lots of IKEA shopping and Etsy-artwork-ordering going on!

This weekend I'm heading back to the Rose Bowl Flea Market to grab a couple more things for the apartment. My best friend Alison and my second mama Connie will be visiting! I'm incredibly excited. I love when family comes to you.

So that's what I'm up to! Just a quick little update... Thanks for reading along over the last year!

And thanks LA for giving me quite the love/hate relationship. My favorite.