Evagation

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Confession.

My entries here have been depressing, and long, lately. I am simply try to meander away from obsessing about quitting opioids, or mentioning the health scare that my Dad has been dealing with (since that would be really depressing) by confessing to all of the things I do/have done/watch/read that are maybe a bit embarrassing. Feel free to laugh at me all you want, that's why I'm doing this. 1) I obsessively watch Gilmore Girls and refer to it as "GiGi." I think giving it a pet-name is what really sent me over the edge into crazy fangirl status. Except I am NOT writing fanfic about any of it, which is a good thing. Since I've only ever written dirty, X-rated fanfic (we'll get to that later) and I really can't think of a great "GiGi" hook-up that would make for great, porny fanfic. Unless I did some cross-over stuff with some of the Buffy characters. I've also kept track of all of the books Rory has read on the series and I own most of them. Which must mean that I'm as bookish as a fictional bookish girl. 2) Yes, I have written porny Buffy fanfic. I love that show (there's no past-tense on that because I will never stop loving Buffy even though it all went to shit when Joss left to do Angel and, without Joss Whedon, the show was just crap). I was in love with Spike. In fact, I went to a few James Marsters (actor who played Spike) signings/appearances and the dude felt me up! Happiest day in my teenage life. I asked him to take a picture with me, then asked for the vampire-bite on the neck pose, and, as he was snuggling me closer to him for the pose to work right (I'm taller than James Marsters) he brushed his hand right across my boobs. My friend took the picture and James said something like, well, how about one more just in case? I damn near died because James Marsters didn't want to let me go! And then he felt me up again! Again. Happiest day of my teenage life. Afterwards, I asked my picture-taking friend if Spike had just felt me up and she looked at me like I was a moron, "Yes, Katie, Spike totally felt you up. Twice." I think my friend was a bit disgusted by it but I obviously didn't care about that, at all. I was thrilled. 3) In high school, I created, and ran, the pre-eminent Neil Patrick Harris website. Yes, that would be the Doogie Howser, M.D. guy. In high school, I used the internet to make fan sites. I had a few going but the Neil one was the biggest, and was definitely the best one around. All of the other piddly Neil fansites kept trying to steal my stuff and there was actually a bit of a war because I had a bunch of exclusive photos, since I started the site after I saw him in "RENT," at the Ahmanson in L.A. All of my RENThead friends would give me their Neil photos to put on the site. Seriously. The thing was huge. I had met him once after I saw "RENT" the first time, but every time I tried to catch him at the stage door after another "RENT" show, he would never show up. He had gotten tired of all of the RENTheads camping out at the stage door just to get autographs, and pictures, so he would have security open up some random exit door for him, just so he didn't have to deal with the fans. When I finally DID meet him again, after the site had gotten enormous, and I was THE Neil Patrick Harris Website Girl, he acted like a complete asshole. It was another stage-door thing (but for a performance of "Romeo and Juliet" at the Old Globe Theater in San Diego, and yes, he wasn't very good as Romeo). Someone had already told him that I was going to be there that night (being a theater kid in L.A. means running in a VERY small circle, since it's not really known for it's theater), and he had better come out and meet me after all of the goodwill I had created on the internet for him. So, he did shake my hand, and sign the playbill, and let me take one picture. Then made some really snide remarks about how the site was great but that I must have a really boring life and he'd only been to the site a few times but wasn't really impressed. Less than a week after that meeting, I had the site completely torn down. I let another girl use most of the stuff from my site for hers, and her thank you to me for it, is still there (that was back when I still owned the chuckie.org domain, which was bought by a "Rugrats" guy). You've got to scroll down but it's there--and I must not have let her have my picture of me posing with Neil, since it's not there. I didn't know, at the time, that a friend was talking with Neil's management and they ended up approaching me about making the site an Official Neil site, except it was gone by then, and I had no desire to bring it back to life. Have to say that I'm a little glad that Neil is such a jerk. Had he not been a jerk, I would have been known as The Girl Who Runs the Official Neil Patrick Harris Website and that would have been BAD. 4) I sucked my thumb until I was nine years old. This is random but hey, it's still embarrassing. My parents tried everything to get me to stop. They started with coating my thumb with something that promised to make the thumb taste so bad that no thumb-sucker would stand for it. All that did was make me really, really sick in the morning, since I had still sucked my thumb during most of the night. Then they covered it with that stuff that will turn your thumb, and mouth, bright red if you suck it during the night. Which simply led to me freaking my teachers out and having them send me home because they thought I had some strange, contagious pathogen that had turned my tongue, teeth, and lips bright red. After that, I started going to bed with really thick mittens on, and since I couldn't fit my thumb in my mouth because the mitten was so big, I eventually stopped sucking my thumb. Even though I would still turn to the comfort of thumb-sucking while I was in the hospital, although that eventually stopped, as well. As you have probably already guessed, sucking my thumb for all of those years completely messed with my teeth. One tooth in particular had gotten seriously fucked up. It was one of the two biggest front teeth, on top, and my thumb had made it grow in completely horizontal. After a few years dealing with braces, my orthodontist admitted defeat when it came to that tooth, since the braces hadn't really moved it at ALL. I had gotten used to smiling with my mouth closed, since kids always made fun of the freakish tooth. So, the dentist did a root canal on it, and then began extracting it from my mouth. It was HUGE. The dentist called everyone into the room just to show them how ginormous the root on the tooth was--I still have it in a keepsake box, somewhere. After the extraction, I got a fake tooth, and spent the next few months running my tongue over my newly flat, front teeth. It felt so weird. 5) I am addicted to bad reality shows. Which is what happens when a generation has been raised on MTV's "Real World." Even though nothing will ever top Puck, and that guy from the London "Real World" who got the tip of his tongue bitten off by a fan, and this was around the time his girlfriend sent him a dead animal's heart in a box (it had to have been a heart-shaped box). And what about that crazy Lyme Disease girl in Seattle? Good times. So, now I watch things like "America's Next Top Model," even though I promised myself I would stop a few cycles ago when the title went to that awful Naima over Kahlen. Now I don't care who the hell wins, since the judging is completely arbitrary, anyway. (Last cycle being a good example of this--bitchy Melrose was actually the better model, she took great pictures, she handled fashions shows like a pro and not like an insane monkey but, alas, the title went to the insane, but cute, monkey.) And, honestly, if you are not watching the show this cycle then you need to get your ass over to TWoP and read the re-caps. They are glorious. Between the mail-order Russian bride, and Wholahay, the show is campy, comedic gold. I'm also obsessed with "The Girls Next Door" on E! It's a bit odd, in the sense that it's Hef's mansion, and these are his girls, but poor old Hugh just wanders around like the geriatric he is while his girls talk about how much they love him. Although those aren't the funny parts. The funny parts happen in-between the talking about Hef. I really love those girls. Even Kendra, who is undoubtedly the stupidest one in the bunch (Holly has more brains that I used to give her credit for, and Bridget is actually quite intelligent, it's simply hard for a grown woman who loves pink and takes dogs on romantic, Valentine's Day strolls to be perceived as being pretty damn smart). Kendra is great because she does wonderful things like sitting in Holly's birthday cake. She also invites her family (they live in California, so it's easy for them to visit--the other girl's families rarely show up) to every major Mansion function, and then proceeds to try and find Playboy girls for her newly-18 year old brother (he needs to get laid, according to Kendra). Once she's done with the brother, she moves on to try and find a man for her Mom (who also needs to get laid). She's also the "sporty" one (I can't help but think of a group of girls in old Spice Girl terminology), except when she went snowboarding in Vail, CO with Shawn White, she crashed into him and sent him flying, and rolling down the mountain. Way to go, Sporty Girl. The Vail trip was great for another reason--elk meat. Apparently, Holly (that's the main Girl) was raised in Alaska. When Kendra starting talking smack about how gross elk meat must be, Holly quietly said that it's pretty good but she's been eating it her whole life. Then she said something about how they used to have to hunt and kill their own elks for food in Alaska, and Kendra looked like she was going to puke on the dinner table. Then the elk was served! Holly daintily dug into it and began contentedly chewing away, while Bridget shaved off a tiny sliver of elk meat, ate it, made a face and said it wasn't THAT bad. And Holly was still working away at her own elk meat, loving all of the fond memories if brought back to her of her childhood in Alaska. And any episode that ends with a Playboy girl, and the main girlfriend of Hugh Hefner arriving back at the mansion, telling the mansion chefs that she now has a major craving for elk is FABULOUS. Even some of the best comedy writers in the world wouldn't have been able to come up with that little gem. (Holly had another stellar line in the newest episode, which ended with a big Mansion Mardi Gras party. For Mardi Gras, Hef has a bunch of naked Playboy girls painted as if they have skimpy clothes on, and Holly designed a few new painted "outfits" and Hef actually chose one. The peacock-painted girl was a huge hit and Hef told Holly that she should sign her creation. So, Holly confessionalizes to the camera that she signed her name right on the girl's ass, and followed that up with a glorious, "Classy." You all should really be watching this show.) I've also watched the horrible "Search for the Next Pussycat Doll" thing. It's not even funny-bad (well, not anymore, it used to be hilariously bad, now it's just bad). The whole thing makes no sense to me. The only girls left are these midget teenagers, none of whom would fit in with the real Pussycat Dolls because most of them are fairly tall and OLD. At least, old when compared to teenagers. The show is crap and Robin Antin gives me the creeps. But I'll probably watch the re-run of it tomorrow just to see which midget teenager won. I hope it's the one who can't dance because that would be great. Since the opening credits include Robin screeching that "If you don't dance like this, then you're outta here!" Which is why I want the baby doll who can't dance to win because then there will be no question that Robin Antin is insane.

Posted by Katie. on Wednesday, April 18, 2007 at 9:57 AM | Permalink | 2 comments | links to this post   

<< Home