Archive | February 13, 2007

Better than SkeeBall

By on February 13, 2007 in The Biotch, The Diva

My current pet peeve?  Heeleys.  Isn’t that what they’re called?  The things that are the epitome of all that is lazy America?  The shoes with wheels BUILT RIGHT IN THEM SO CHILDREN CAN ANNOY ME WITHOUT HAVING TO BEND OVER AND CHANGE SHOES?

Here’s my deal.  Children have a hard enough time staying upright and not knocking things over.  WHY MAKE THEM MOBILE?  They cannot control themselves in the environment they’re in; can we not let Darwinism have SOME sort of say in thinning the herd?

And on a very personal, confessional note, here’s why I REALLY can’t stand them: I have an overwhelming urge to knock children down.  Just in general.  Children walking alongside me are in danger of me not being able to control my Godzilla-like height and OOPS! knocking them over.  But now you put wheels on them?  Making them, I dunno, like a challenge?  Mocking my innate hunting skills?

I feel like a dog at the racetrack with an electronic bunny whizzing around.  I have this natural urge to stick a leg out as they come whizzing by me.

Is this nice?  NO.  It is not.  I am clearly an individual with no morals.  I think we established that some time ago.  But it is, nonetheless, honest.  I hate those damn shoe-skate-thingies with a passion and think they should be outlawed.

They’re really only a step above Crocs, truly.

Now comes the part where you tell me what an old codger I am.

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I Post This Every Valentine’s Day

By on February 13, 2007 in The Blushing Bride

Please kiss me.

I don’t mean slobber on my chin because you’re drunk and think that counts as foreplay. I don’t mean a quick peck because you’re walking out the door and don’t have time. I don’t mean kiss.

I mean, KISS.

I want you to put your lips on mine because you want me. Don’t plan on moving past my lips. Just stay there.. linger. Breathe me in. Stop time. I want to be kissed until my lips are raw from your tongue, your teeth. I want you to pull back only long enough to lock your eyes with mine, and then dive back in.

Yes, I enjoy a good romp in the hay. I enjoy the peeling off of clothes, the sweat between bare skins, and everything else associated with it. But OH MY GOD.. please kiss me.

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Truth

By on February 13, 2007 in Uncategorized

Confession: Facebook is still totally gay, but I’m so hooked.

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S-L-O-W D-O-W-N

By on February 13, 2007 in The Diva

I LOVE today.

Granted, I would love today more if I were at home in bed.  But today, as a whole, is pretty durn awesome.

I have no idea why I’m so peppy this morning.  I woke up at 5:45, wide-awake.  I was ready early enough to crawl back into bed for a few minutes and snuggle, a treat I don’t remember having in recent memory.  And even though I trudged to work for two miles in a monsoon, I feel like I’m walkin’ on sunshine. (WHO-OA, AND DON’T IT FEEL GOOD!)

Our hell week is running pretty smoothly, I’d say.  Apart from your usual drama, and the fact that there are a LOT of kids in this show, I really think we’re in a good place.  There are things I, naturally, would fix, but you know.. I’m there to act and look pretty.  I’m doing one of those things MARVELOUSLY well.

Betcha didn’t think it was the looking pretty part, but it is.

I know that I have a problem with speaking quickly.  It comes from years of having to “hit a post”, or stop at a precise second, in radio.  It’s much easier to just get all the info in a :30 spot on one take than it is to end up with :40 of tape and have to cut it down.  So I speak a little fast.  Clearly, but fast.  I know this.

Apparently, I am driving my director NUTS with this.  He had FOUR notes alone last night that were “Godmother – SLOW DOWN”.  Thing is, I feel like I’m talking miserably slow.  Like, missing a chromosome slow.  Or speaking for the lip-readers in the audience.  In fact, last night, I made a point of actually breathing in between words, just to slow myself down.

And four notes later, I realized that I must breathe quickly too.

I joked that I may need a Xanex before shows, just to slow my synapses down. (I was only half joking: I need a xanex to not kill small children.  And Heeleys.  I hate them.  But that’s another post.)

Today, since I’m in this fantastic mood, I’m going to work on talking slower.  Very slowly, in fact.  I’m going to talk as if I’ve got peanut butter in the back of my mouth.  So if I talk to you today and sound like a freak, don’t blame me.. my director made me do it.

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I Don’t Know Why They Want Me Here.

By on February 13, 2007 in The Biotch, The Diva

Manager: And Sarah?  What do you think?

Me: Huh?  Oh, I’m sorry.  Your voice has such a drone to it, and you’ve been talking for so long that I just went to sleep with my eyes open and I sure didn’t hear a word you said.  What now?

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