Unexpected Is Expected

That's it. I have finally snapped. Upon looking of pictures of me from two years ago and realizing that I was, you know, THINNER, I am going to keep the New Years resolution (that I had no intention of actually keeping) and exercise. That's right, I, lazy maybe-i'll-do-it-later-just-kidding keely will actually get up from the computer that consumes my soul (and several thousand braincells per second) and go walking--because running is LAME--and do those exercises that make you look really really psychotic as you do them but completely tone you. I've even heard fresh air is good for you. Who knew!?

I'm not fat (well....by normal standards. If your anything more than a size 3 in Southern California, you are TOO FAT), but I need to lose weight. I suppose I have no excuse but laziness, because I actually lose weight much faster/easier than most people. I was lucky enough to be born with a fairly fast metabolism which enables me to do this easily--which often brings about dark mutterings from my friends.

I suppose I'm feeling this way in part because I'm just tired of feeling ugly. And I'm tired of calling and thinking of myself as ugly. I'm just....done. Its bad for me, and I don't really know where it comes from completely, because no one has ever called me ugly or even 'average' looking (even strangers say I'm cute, or have striking features; meaning my eyes). But somehow, for as long as I can remember, I just assumed I was regardless of what people said. And I'm tired of thinking of myself that way. So I'm determined to wake up every morning (around an early 9:30) and drag my miserable body out the door to walk (quickly of course). And I will eat better. I did it last year and lost substantial weight in two weeks. I will do so again. If all goes well, I will reach my goal weight of 110 by the end of March or early April.

I like to think of this as something that I'm using to promote change in my life and in my need to accept changing myself...you know, the whole 'move forward' idea. I know changing is going to take time, but there's nothing wrong with helping it get a jump start right!? I also bought three different kinds of pills. Each one promises a more healthier, glowing, heart attack free, peppy me! And really, who could beat that!? It DOES make me feel like an addict though, staring at those bottles. Is this how those health freaks get roped in? With the promise of being prettier, healthier, and thinner with these magic little pills?

Normally I'm a funny blogger. Normally I would charm you all with my wit and intelligence, but since very little has happened in my life to be comment worthy, I cannot in all good conscious be funny about nothing. Making up a story however, is a completely different story. I could make up ANYTHING and it would probably sound much more exciting than MY life. For instance:

'On Monday Petunia woke up with scaly hands. confused she went down stairs and asked her mother if anything seemed odd about her. Her mother, drinking her standard 7:30 a.m. burbon--no ice--squinted at the half empty glass and said,

'I love your hair.'

By Thursday Petunia was drinking water the way her mother drank her alcohol. By Friday Petunia feared the worst. She went to confront her mother, who was drinking her 8:00 a.m. taquila.

'Mother, I have bad news.'

'There's ice in this."

'I think I'm turning into a fish.'

'That reminds me, we're having salmon for dinner.'


Now doesn't that sound like just a fascinating girl!? Wouldn't you want to read a blog about a girl who has realized she's turning into a fish? I know I wait with 'baited' breath.




Coffee Please!

Pass the Tea Please!

Every so often I have a mild freak out. Its an inner thing, so the most people see as I have them is a strange look on my face followed by a 'huh' before I wander away pondering this new found information that freaks me out. At the moment, my freak out is about that oh so wonderful thing called life. Now don't worry, I'm not going to suddenly move to Japan (although, that doesn't SOUND like a bad idea to me....). I've just started to come onto something since reading a blog that I absolutely adore....mainly because she uncomfortably reminds me of myself and where I am at this point in my life.

I am twenty five, and in 8 months I will be 26. I'm beginning to look back and reflect on things that I don't always feel comfortable confronting or thinking about. Fears of my future, fears about myself, and fears of having to deal with the uncomfortable truth that I might actually be a good person. Its hard to believe good things when your constantly shoveled bad things into your head by people you had trusted, and its even harder to believe the good things (at least for me) because the bad things had to come from some form of truth. But I digress. Soul searching is a long process, and often times painful, and its something that I normally hash out with friends. But this time I've had to do it on my own...it feels right to do this on my own. I'm not out of the tangled, strange, slightly surreal forest that is me, but I feel that my chainsaw will soon meet with a clear forest.

At the moment the only things I can feel secure in is that apparently what I'm going though and how I'm feeling are quite normal--or at least felt by one other person. And the other is that while I look back on my early twenties, I don't regret things that happened to me as she did. I haven't gone the direct route of a four year college, or living in dorms, or studying abroad. It took me four years to get to school again, and while others were having children or getting married (or getting doped up) I was busy living and experiencing. Not all of the experiences were fun or pleasant, but they were the kind that helped me realize things about myself whether good or bad. It broadened my perception of people, of life, and of how to handle things. If I hadn't been on my own I wouldn't have been able to find out what I was made of, what I was capable of.

I was worried you see, that at 25 I hadn't changed. But really, I have. Its all in little ways of course, and I wouldn't have noticed the changes had I not gone back and read old entries in live journals of mine, or old dairies from years ago during my foray as a lone girl trying to make it in the expensive and over priced world of O.C. It wasn't easy. But sometimes it was fun. Now, as I realize there is no going back to who I was, it also occurs to me that I am moving forward with all the force of a jet engine. My life seems to have taken control of me; and I suppose for the better. But I'm left wondering; do I DESERVE it? Am I good enough? Have I learned enough to leave my state of California, my friends, my social life? Have I learned enough to make it on my own? Do I have enough experience to hold an actual job? Am I the person I need to be?

Its a confusing mix of answers that respond back to these questions as they circle my head like vultures. The one half of me says 'go young padiwan, you are ready'. The other says 'look at you, you screwed up last time, what makes you think you won't again?' That particular voice worries me because I do worry I'll screw it up again. Not watch my spending, or worse than that, letting people walk all over me once more. I can make friends, I can cook food, and I can fend for myself if I have to. But I DO worry about being lonely, about not finding REALLY good friends who get me and understand me. The friends I have here I've cultivated relationships with between 3 and 10 years. How on earth do I find friends like that? I know I sound silly, because realistically, I manage to draw people to me who are good for me now a-days. But it still lurks there in the back of mind.

I know as a person I will change and evolve, that right now especially its needed. When I was younger I thought 25....something BIG is going to happen. I had expected it to be like the universe starting. You know...LOUD. But it wasn't, as I am finding out. I was disappointed for a while until I started re-evaluating my life and realizing that I had several large things happen to me, which at the time didn't seem so. They're the sort of things that have an impact that has altered my path in the long run, that will carry with it the tone of my new life. In fact, I'm going through another slight shift in the world of Keely. Its time for my life to start whether I'm ready or not, I'm just hoping I'll be ready when it comes time to jump out of that airplane.

Tea please!

The Travel Bug

I have about *checks calender* six months until I move. SIX MONTHS. As the M-day draws closer I feel my feet begin to itch. And then it hits me like a bird hitting a glass window, I have been bitten by the Travel Bug. It's a familiar feeling, and my brain seizes up and says: "I need to travel. I need to do it RIGHT. NOW. I need to get out of California, out of America, ON MY OWN, and travel. If that means staying in a town in Nairobi for a month because I ran out of money, then bring it on!"

As you can tell, being bitten by the Travel Bug is a dangerous thing. The Travel Bug can affect anyone, in any country. Symptoms include but are not limited to:

-the desire to go anywhere. ANYWHERE.

-The need to meet new people

-You start buy different ethnic foods at local markets to dampen your need to taste exotic food.

-you begin to question if the money in your savings account is REALLY for moving out of the house.

-Hostels begin to look and sound like four star hotels.

-Any mention of any country has you checking how much a flight would cost to go to said country.

-Your mind constantly chants to you 'vacation! vacation! vacation!'

-Despite being terribly afraid of needles, you start to contemplate getting your vaccinations. You know. Just in case.

- The risk of Typhoid, tse tse flies, and malaria suddenly sound strange and exotic. Perhaps you'll get one tattooed to your arm....


If you suffer these symptoms or ones similar to them, then you have been bitten by the Travel Bug. Some Travel Bug's bites are small, and only make you slightly aware that you might like a vacation, or say, a need to go camping. Others are of a medium venom and you suddenly find yourself saying 'yes' to that crazy friend who likes to white water raft and has invited YOU to join him. And then you get THE Bug. This Bug bite forces you to go briefly insane and purchase a ticket and an overseas work visa before you think better of it. And as you wake up in a hostel room in Morocco riddled with bed bugs, you realize that once again the Travel Bug has gotten you, and what little money you had.

I Think I'm Joining The Dark Side.....

I have grown up in California my entire life. Of that entire life I have lived in the very VERY long shadow of LA. And it is the MOST annoying thing to live with when you're not a person who doesn't want to be in film or music. It affects every aspect of your life, from what you want to do (if you knit, your a freak. If you read, your even weirder), to who and how you date.

You see, in LA its all about who you know, who you date, and who you can make connections with. In fact, most dating in LA is done simply to make contacts and land a break; its a business deal with often times very little actual caring on one parties side (or perhaps even both). LA dating is NOT for the faint of heart. People there SAY they want love, but their love comes with "and so like...your going to make a lot of money right?" Its implied that you WILL become famous at something or another. And then it begins to dawn on those in the city that 'gee, maybe these girls/guys are only dating me because of who I know.'

'How would YOU know, if you don't like LA?' You're asking me.


Because, dear readers, somehow, some way, I have managed to find myself dating men in the industry. I blame it on the Stop Sign ticket I got. THAT is what started me on this downward spiral. I didn't WANT to date LA boys. They tend to have a hardness about them, and almost ALWAYS flaunt who they know and how many connections they have. Sadly, this is because THAT is what girls in LA expect and look for in their 'mates'. And that DOES make me feel bad for the boys of LA.

It started with a man who is a producer, who was also waiting in line to pay for a ticket. Apparently my knitted outfit was cool enough to lure him in (funny how knitted stuff does that...). We dated, but I couldn't bring myself to make it last. He name dropped too much and expected me to be impressed. I was not. Hollywood royalty or not, I really couldn't get past the fact that he liked talking about himself. The funny thing was, as he was telling me about himself he said:

"You know, dating in Hollywood is just getting old. I mean, all the girls there just want the same shit. I want a real woman. You know?"

He said that last part while looking me up and down. Flattering, but not enough to make me feel bad about dumping him. I just couldn't bring myself to tell him that NICE girls that weren't from Hollywood REALLY REALLY don't care who you know, because they don't want to be part of the industry (like me). The one time I DID try to tell him I didn't care he said "co' co'" and then proceeded to name drop some more AND not ask me one single thing about myself.

A few months later I ended up dating a film editor for big name company (how is a secret!). I actually really got along well with him. He wasn't originally from LA. Again, I was told by said date that dating in LA just wasn't fun; that girls expected you to be sooooo connected. And the second they found out you couldn't get them a break? Gone. No wonder they boys of LA with a brain are looking outside of Hollywood!

And now, presently, I am once again in the midst's of dating yet another LA man. HOW does this happen? WHY? I personally don't like LA, I never wanted to be in the culture, and yet some how it keeps luring me into its smoggy depths. I can't decide if the universe is trying to tell me something, or if I'm just attractive to the Big City boys. I have no idea. But I'll keep you posted on the progress! (I don't know who YOU are, but you must be pretty okay, because your reading this. Congratulations!)

I may sound a little judgmental. And maybe I am. A little. But its not without basis. In Hollywood men who move there to land a big deal or 'make it' spend several months to years chasing after girls whose faces blur together in one blond-blue-eyed mess. And then two things will happen. First, they either realize they need a girl with a heart and a brain and common sense and quickly start looking outside of Hollywood. Or they will realize what they're doing....and then keep doing it. Humans are human, and some men really do just like having the trophy wife/girlfriend.

And hey if they want it, LA is the best place on earth to get it. Just make sure you know some one who knows someone who works for MGM, Warner Bros, or Capitol Records. Then the girls will come flocking.

An Oldie but a Goodie

Hello fellow bloggers and lurkers that I don't know! Since I have very little interesting things going on in my life, I went through an old account of mine and found a great little story for you all! Now I should warn you, I am a storyteller. I come from a long line of them. And usually stories are not about me, its about the people around me. Because really, they're all much more facinating. But occasionally interesting things happen to me. And this particular one happened when I worked for place run by the Mafia.

I know you think I'm kidding. I'm not. And how cool is that?! So here is the old blog entry, for your amusement!

WORKING: A FASCINATING STORY ABOUT THE MAFIA


You know, working as a hostess to an Italian Restaurant/club/bar is not without its perks. Like, meeting new people who have interesting stories. Or the ones who have too much to drink and then talk really loud, enabling you, the person stuck behind a counter but in front of a bar, to listen quite easily. And because you work 'behind the scenes', are privy to more intimate details from the people who also work there.

For instance, on Saturday night I went into work expecting a club night. But it was not a club night. It was a private party. And they had a band playing. A great band with a Frank Sinatra Singer. And after playing some wonderful songs the band came to the bar to talk and drink. And I, being the friendly person I am, saddled up to the singer to tell him how great I thought he was. And after engaging him into this conversation he says to me,

"You know, I sang here about five years ago."

"Oh really?" Says I, fascinated.

"Yeah. 'Course, back then it looked a little different. You know, " Says Frank Sinatra Singer leaning in close, "Last time I played here it was for a Godfather."

"Nooo!" I say with proper amazement. He however, looks not amazed. "How did you know he was a Godfather?"

"Because they told me, that's why."

And there you have it. There is no secret handshake, no pinstripe suite or bodyguards that might hint that who you are looking at MIGHT be the Mafia. They TELL you. They do not fear you. They do not fear the system! And why should they? Any way, I couldn't help but imagine a man in a pinstripe suite, large and balding, with a fat cigar in his mouth sitting in the lounge. I mean...I know its cliche and also you know, 2008, but all those godfather movies and old black and whites of the mafia seemed to have branded into my head that THAT is how the mafia dress and look. Of course the DON'T, but still.




Stay tuned reader, my next post is also an oldie but a goodie, and it'll make you intrigued and appalled all at the same time! Doesn't that sound like fun!?

New Kid on the Blog

Hello to those who might or might not be reading this! This blog is a little like Sex and the City without the sex...er...or the city for that matter. Unless you count living 50 minutes away from LA as being 'in' the city.

I can't promise to be completely exciting at the moment, as this blog is starting at the beginning of the end for me. You see, I graduate college and from there, I will be on to the REAL exciting time in my life--moving to Seattle, WA. Now THAT will be and adventure! There will be tears, laughter, tea, and a very large cat named Soji.

But as I live in Orange County (now please, refrain from imagining me as a blond eyed, spray-tanned, stiletto wearing OC girl.), I figure I might as well give you a taste into the musing and insights of a girl who doesn't exactly fit into the mold in the Sunny Side of California. That, dear readers, is why I'm moving to Seattle. Well, and for a better job!

So, to be a positive person, here is what you CAN expect on my blog entries for the time being!

-Humor

-Sarcasm (used only for good!)

-Insights into life in the O.C.

-Musings

-Possibly rants (hey, I'm college, I'm entitled to act like a kid until I am forcibly removed!)

-pictures of tea, coffee, knitting, really anything I find pretty/interesting/cool (feel free to NOT look at them if you don't want to)

-possibly videos (I know, exciting right!?)

And there you go! Now don't you suddenly feel like your day is about to get so much better?