THE ONE THAT'S MEANT TO INSPIRE.

Of late, the only times I've bothered to update this thing is when I had a particularly irritating conundrum to ponder or when I feel bad for only updating negative things, so I post a positive update.  

Not today. 

Although I could easily bitch, bemoan and pity myself to the end of Manhattan and back, I won't.  

Equally I will not be ranting, raving or spewing unicorn shaped particles of fairy dust over my life story. 

No.  Today (slash tonight, since it's almost midnight) I want to write just for the sake of writing. 

That's why I started this thing.  I had thoughts, people seemed interested in my thoughts and this is a forum when I can think out loud to as many people as there are on the internet (or as few as the ones actually interested) 

Well today I'm going to talk a little bit about movies.

Sort of. 

See, I have this thing where whenever I'm too still, too bored, too mad, too upset, too stressed, too stuck or too nothing, I go to the movies.  It started because I was sitting in my producing for film class and I realized I hadn't seen a single movie the kids around me were talking about.  They were throwing out producer names and budget figures and net income and box office ratings and... a lot of crap that I had no idea about.  So I thought, okay, I'll go to more movies.  

Two months later I have now seen 9 movies in theater, rented two movies on DVD, watched 11 movies on Netflix Instant and rented all four seasons of Wildfire (the abcFamily show about horse racing, woohoo!) My Netflix Instant queue has 38 movies ready to be watched and my DVD queue is up to 14.  

But I still know nothing about net incomes or budget approval or whose in the red or in the black (there's such a thing, did you know that?) and frankly I couldn't really care right now.  A movie should make you forget that crap.  

When you see a good movie you should forget that you're in a smelly theatre and you shouldn't notice the text message that the idiot in front of you is typing.  You should forget everything that came with you when you walked through those doors; the stress, the failed midterms, the boy problems, everything.  A movie should let you drop those worries at the concession stand.  

Don't worry, they'll still be there in 186 minutes when you get out.  

Anyways, I'm getting off track.  

The point is, movies should be good.  And I saw one tonight that was... surprisingly great.  I went to Morning Glory because I was tired at 8pm and I couldn't bear the thought of putting myself to bed before pm.  Just because my knees are shot and my back is one slipped disc from a lifelong vicodin prescription, doesn't mean I should be in bed before my 10 year old cousin.  I'm still a youthful kitten, not yet a bitter old sourpuss. 

Anyways, I go to see Morning Glory and it's sort of a RomCom (but less Rom then Com) and it's relatable because it's about a girl trying to make it in a shitty economy (although I've never had to search for a job so that relate-ability not hitting me) and her dream job is producing for daytime TV (which I hope to never have to do) and despite all these things that should turn me off, I am so sucked into the world of Daybreak that by the end of the show I had abandoned my giant diet coke and was perched on the very edge of my velveteen seat waiting to hear the next word. 

Literally perched. 

And the plot is predicable yet the actors are so good that you forget about that and you are with them in the moment and the editing is so good that you are racing to keep up and no line falls flat and you're literally laughing out loud because they didn't just put the best parts in the previews, they saved those nuggets for you, the ticket holder.  And it's just... 

Great.

It's truly great.

And I get out of that theatre and I'm not tired anymore.  I don't want to start producing for Daytime TV or date whats-his-face from the movie.  I just want to be great.  

I want to know who produced this movie and what their budget is and how much net versus gross they got and how the box office is doing and all those details because this was a great movie and I want to be a great producer who makes great movies so I want to know what these people did so I can learn to be as great as they are. 

And that's corny and cheesy and so silly and I still am realistic, I know that there's a 1 in 304,098,070,230,001 chance that I will actually make all of my separate, and very lofty, dreams come true.  But I don't care because I leave that theatre and my brain feels like its turned on for the first time in days and I have all these ideas flooding in and they have nothing to do with what I just watched for 95 minutes but they're there because of what I just watched for 95 minutes. 

So I'm going to jot down a few of these ideas, continue to mull over them (at the gym tomorrow!) and start being great.  Even if I have to take greatness in the form of little itty bitty baby stumble steps.  Because right now being great doesn't mean being on Broadway or producing a blockbuster or writing the next best seller.  Right now, great is knowing what the gross profit of Morning Glory is, and passing y GenEd classes, and graduating on time, and getting an applause at the end of the student play I'm doing right now and writing a blog about being inspired instead of about what a bitch my MugWug has been lately.  So here I am. 

Where are you? 

Now I should put myself to sleep.  Grandma still needs her beauty rest, especially if she's going to wake up in time to get to her GenEd class at 9am and remember to pack her sneakers for the gym after. 

Hello Greatness. 

Goodnight World.

xxKK.

p.s. MugWug actually isn't being a bitch this week.  We're back to loving each other unconditionally. Marie on the other hand... 

love you kittens. Be great. 

KITTY KAT IS A SAD PUPPY

 So I woke up this morning with a cough like the rattle of death. 

After several hacks I texted my friend to let her know I would not be in class and went back to sleep for several hours. 

Woke up, hacked a lung. 

Went back to sleep

Woke up, hacked a lung, drank some tea and tried to sleep again but decided that since it was 5pm I should probably get dressed and get my butt to my 6pm rehearsal. 

Somewhere in the middle I had some wonderful dreams that pretty wonderful. 

And once awake I felt pretty much okay.  Other than the occasional booming chesty cough, I felt fine. 

Sounds like my day was going pretty decently right? 

Wrong. 

So. I'm in rehearsal. And the phone rings. But I miss the call... because I'm in rehearsal. And I always silence my phone in rehearsal. It rings again. Missed again. And then I get a text accusing me of sending the calls to voicemail.

Psycho.

Anyways I reassure my friend Belle that I'm not ignoring her I'm just busy (hey look at that, my life doesn't stop when you aren't in it, shocker) and let her know I should be out of rehearsal by 9 or 10.
So I ask her whats up (i.e. why are you calling me after us not talking for ages?) and she says she wanted to get dinner but now it's too late. (to be specific she said "Tooooo lateeeee")

Okay, fine.

So I ask what she's up to later (look at me, being all mature and trying to still hang out despite her accusing me of being a bad and neglecting friend and etc etc) and she tells me she's going to a movie with MugWug.

My MugWug.

The same MugWug who I haven't seen since I had that "heart to heart" 9 days ago.

The same MugWug who doesn't understand why I think that he's been slowly replacing me with Belle despite the fact that he hasn't talked to me about anything but work or school for quite some time but sees her every damn day.

Did I mention that Belle is the same girl who used to go on and on about how she didn't respect my friendship with MugWug and how she didn't think it would last because we met by chance and not based on any common thing.

The same Belle who tried to get with MugWug and then talked shit about him for ages.  The same Belle who made me pick sides between her and him (I took his)

But now he's taking hers.

But apparently he doesn't see why that hurts.

Anyways.  She tells me theyre going out so, after rehearsal due to the fact that I feel like death from my sickness rearing its ugly head, and shitty from my "best friend" not talking to me for a week but seeing her every night and going out and because I HAVE NO OTHER PLANS, I go home.

Sit at home feeling shitty for a while.

Bemoan to my ever understanding and wonderful friends Siobhan and Lizz and then

dundundunn

MugWug calls.

And it goes something like this:
MugWug: "What are you doing?"
Kitty:         "about to go to the grocery store" (for hot chocolate materials)
MW:         "Why'd you leave?!?!?!" (you might think my punctation is crazy but you should have heard him)
K:             "Leave? Leave where?" (genuine confusion)
M:             "Belle told me you had rehearsal"
K              " Yeah?"
M:             "Where?"
K:             "Downtown..."
M:            "Then why'd you leave" (he lives downtown, I live midtown)
K:             "I got out of rehearsal 3 hours ago...."
M:            "Belle said you would get out at 11" (which would still be an hour earlier fyi)
K:             "No I told her 9 or 10... I got out at 9"
Belle:       "She definitely told me 11" (me = rage that once again he's put me on speakerphone without telling me)
K:            "check your damn messages, I said 9 or 10"
M:            "Oh. well okay."

We talked a bit more but nothing of substance. No apology from him for excluding me from him night plans / acting mad that I didn't stay downtown when he never gave me reason to / believing Belle over me / not talking to me for ages / putting me on secret speakerphone / etc.

And now I'm like pissed at Belle because I can't be sure if she did it on purpose but she drove a wedge between us that didn't need to be there. Especially after she'd already pushed such a large wedge between us already. Like did she really think I didn't get out til 11? Probably not... we went to the same acting school for 3 years, she knows we don't have rehearsal any later than 10 any day... ever.

Whatever.  I'm trying not to be paranoid.
I'm trying not to be annoying and over react and turn this into a big deal.

But I can't help feeling like a tiny labrador puppy that's been kicked multiple times by the bitch her owner replaced her with and then put to the curb without a collar.

Kitty is a sad puppy.

I don't know.

I know this is partially the drugs talking and partially the deep psychological damage of many people abandoning me in my life and partially my need to be wanted but knowing that doesn't make it hurt any less.

Going into a nyquil induced coma now - hopefully something funny for you tomorrow.

xxKK

WELL AT LEAST THE SHARPIE CAME OFF...

So today I had a midterm.

No big deal right?

Wrong.

See, I'm smart.  Not to toot my own horn or anything but I'm not stupid.  I love tests because I'm good at studying and learning and all that crap.

However today I was stressed for my test.

Why? (you might ask) Considering my IQ, great memory and my extensive knowledge of how to write all the answers on my pants without anyone noticing, why would I be stressed?

Well it started with n altercation with MugWug, two days before the test.

Okay, altercation is the wrong word.  The altercation came later. See he called and wanted to hang out (which I was like woohoo! All my worries were unfounded! yay!)

So the next day (which was yesterday) I woke up all fresh faced and eager for the world and I made a yummy breakfast fauxlogna sandwich (fake sandwich meat yummmm) and I looked at my textbook, color coded flash cards and pile of fine point sharpie on my desk waiting to be made into an unstoppable study device.  But then I remembered MugWug was coming over and, since he is one of the most judgemental people I know, I decided to tidy instead.

I loaded the dishwasher, took out the trash, swept the livingroom, put away my clothes, wiped down the counter tops and a whole other pleothra of chores.  Quite pleased with my newly tidy home I turned back to the flashcards.

But...
then...

I played xbox instead.

Look.  I'd just finished my chores it was time for a break.  But after the break it was time to eat lunch.  And then it was time for Law&Order: SVU (because I love Benson and Stabler and I get crabby if I go too long without seeing them) And then it was 4pm and... no sign of MugWug... a while later I get a message from him saying sorry, he got busy  (which is fine, I totally understand that) and that he couldn't make it today (which is annoying but understandable still) and that maybe we could have a meeting later.

Meeting?

MEETING?

Here  I was trying to clean up and get into a hang out mood for my "best friend" but the only reason he wants to see me is for work.

LAME FUCKING BALLS.

So I got a litttttle mad.

I didn't respond immediately because if I had I would have said something like "Fuck you and your fucking work you goddamn useless man-being, thanks for making me feel like we were friends again in order to use me to do more work. Next time you want a fucking meeting tell me that instead of tricking me by saying you wanted to hang out you goddamn motherfucking asswipe" instead of the diplomatic "oh no problem... didn't even know we were meeting today."

GRRRRR.

He's sick and tired and busy and I understand it's hard to make time for friends but don't trick me into doing work on our friend time and don't pretend we're friends if you can't ever make time for me.  This isnt that big of a deal and I'll get over it in a few days it just rubs me the wrong way.  Hard.

Think: Indian burn on your hoohah.

Anyways.  I got mad.

So I decided to make myself a giant bowl of froyo, sorbet, pomagranant seeds and chocolate chips and sulked in front of the TV for several hours.

At 7pm I realized I had not done anywork for my midterm and I went into a panic.

I started to make flashcards but between my anger, my sugar coma and the distraction of SVU, NCIS and Hairspray (the movie) I got more sharpie on my body (ALL OVER MY BODY) then on the flashcards.

I finished making the cards at 2:30 am, showered, got into bed at 3:30am, was asleep by 4:00am and at 8:30am I left my house (luckily sharpie free) with sloppy flashcards, a fauxlogna sandwich and still wearing my pajamas.

So. Cute.

Anyways I think I aced the test but now I'm going to go home and sleep so hard and long that it will put bears in winter, coma patients AND dead people to shame.

xxKK

WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF?

So sometimes I make bad judgement calls...

...like that one time I slept with a 30yr old dressed up like Justin Beiber on halloween...

and sometimes I make bad life decisions...

...like skipping the only class I really care about and love in order to hang out with a boy who is, by definition, a douchetard.

I mean... serious douchetardiness.  In case you're curious we are indeed talking about the one formerly known as Main Squeeze.  He's here in the city I call home with several of his closest douchtardy friends (including Joe Blow and a few I may have had uhhh interactions with....) and despite the fact that he has a girlfriend (not that that's stopped us in the past) and the fact that our last interaction involved him duping me into coming over and then suggesting we call a cab before we started anything so that I wouldn't be stuck on his doorstep when he was finished.

Claaaaaaassy.

Despite that I am still not in my favorite class and not at home cleaning or at the gym or doing ANYTHING productive.

I am downtown like a little bitch waiting for this bitch to call me.

I didn't want to wait for him to call to head down because then I might be late and clearly I wouldn't want to miss out on anytime with such a stand up bloke.  So I came downtown. Far Downtown.

No call.

Just waiting.

Sitting in a starbucks nursing a chai tea and hoping that I'm not a pathetic loser whose getting stood up but instead just a pathetic needy loser with thing for bad boys.

Oooh.  And he is bad in all the right ways.

No! Stop it Kitty! No bad boys for you!

Must resist the lure of his sexy tattoos and sexy grin and sexy laugh and sexy sexiness.

Not to mention the blow your mind sexy sex.

Must resist!

Although... the more pathetic I am and the more trouble I get in the more material I'll have for this blog... so really I'm thinking of you, my readers, when I consider going down the street, into his hotel, knocking on the door (kicking his roommate out) and taking full advantage of the two hours he has left in my city.

Clearly just thinking of the good of you guys.

Clearly.

Okay... its 1pm. They probably won't call. And I probably already knew that, deep down inside, when I made the journey here.

Sad Kitty.

xxKK