NEWLOVE

I could not sleep last night.  Could.  Not.  Sleep.  It was infuriating.  After 2+ hours of staring at the clock, I finally got some shut-eye.  Thank the Lord.  But this morning, although I woke up in plenty of time and got out the door with time to spare, I found myself behind garbage trucks the entire way to work.  I was a little panicked thinking Jacob was going to be annoyed if I showed up a couple minutes late.  But, even though I was 3 minutes late, when I walked in, Jacob said nothing.  "I love you Jacob!"

We proceeded to have a hellish day which I won’t even go into.  But at the end of it all, we all decided to go to dinner.  Me.  Jacob.  Liz.  Josh and Justin Wade.  Check out my photos on Ringo - we had fun.

I woke up to Brad thinking he was going to get lucky. Normally, this would been a good thing - a REALLY good thing. Only, I couldn’t move. My legs were aching from Friday’s hike and my arms were immobile - completely useless, no joke, due to all the heavy lifting I did Saturday. Damn it all to hell. The one day I’m going to get some and my body has to go on strike…

Not to mention that I drank waaaayyyyy too much last night. Ugh. So my head was pounding on top of it all.

We ended up having a nice, leisurely morning in bed with the Times and Brad made me a delicious breakfast (also in bed) before we rolled out the door around 3:30pm to catch a screening of Munich at the Arclight after which we saw Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgewick leave the theater, each talking on their respective cell phones. I pointed at them proud to have even noticed and Brad remarked that he used to wait on them a couple times a month at Rain in New York. I was like, “I know, Brad. I know. I’ve heard the story a FEW times before.”

Munich was loved by Brad. I thought it was pretty good. I’d recommend it. Spielberg makes an interesting subtle political statement about violence and what it begets. You should check it out.

Later that night, I was at home eager to catch Desperate Housewives and Grey’s Anatomy. I turned on the tube to find “Dancing with the Stars” instead of DH. Now, I don’t know why I’ve never watched it before, it was moderately interesting. But 2 hours for a season finale?!?!?!?!? Are you freaking kidding me???? Nothing happened whatsoever in this show!! Nick Laché’s brother Drew ended up winning and what a surprise. Yeah.

I woke up this morning and wanted to send a text message from my computer but when I pressed the space bar to wake it up, the computer was dead. Would not turn on. I started to hyperventilate.

OH NOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo…….

I called Apple Support. Nothing they could do over the phone but set up an appointment with the nearest Apple Store. So I went to my appointment and right as I walked in, some nice boy asked me if I needed help carrying my ten ton computer that I’d been lugging five miles by now. “Yes, please!” As we got to the top of the stairs, they called my name. “Here I am!” Yes!

As it turns out, my power source was shot but it was an easy fix and I left with my computer fixed within 30-45 minutes. Yes!

I worked all day lugging shit around and decided at the spur of the moment that I deserved new shoes. So I went to Niemen’s to get a pair of calf skin zebra print open toed Manolo’s but they didn’t have any. I chose a cute beige and pink pair of Gucci’s instead. Beautiful. I handed over my Visa Check Card and the salesman tisked me. “We only take the Nieman’s card, American Express or personal checks.”

What?! I’ve shopped at Niemen’s for years and how do I never remember this important tidbit of information?! So I casually say that I’ll have to send Brad by one of these days to put it on his AmEx. The helpful salesman said, “If you can call him, we can take his card number over the phone.”

“Touché,” I say. “I have his card number right here!”

But I didn’t have his security code. So, I called Brad and woke him from a nap to get the four magic numbers and he asks, “Don’t you need my card number?”

“Is it 4567.4567.4567.456,” or whatever and he exclaims, “How did you know that?!”

Please, I’m Kathleen mother-fucking Newlove in the HIZ-OUSE! Who do you think I am? Of course I have the number!

I left with yummy new shoes. Yay! And let me tell you, they are SUPER DUPER CUTE!

First of all, let me just tell you that the LA is covered in fog tonight. Weird, I know.

Secondly, I took the day off today. Earth-shattering, I know.

Thirdly, I took Michelle Jannone up on her invitation and hiked Runyon Canyon today - my ass and calves already hurt/burn/feel like jelly. (I think Michelle is secretly trying to kill me.) Yes, Chicken Little, the sky IS falling.

This evening as I sat idly in my apartment reading an entire book in one sitting, I was all-of-a-sudden snapped out of the fictional world of the novel in which I was completely engrossed by an unending series of loud honking.

Finally, as I was about to explode, I put down my book and grabbed a jacket and stormed outside to see who was disrupting the lives of everyone on my block. “Puerto-Rican Doorbell,” as it is known to some, is the refusal to use one’s cell phone to let someone know that one is waiting outside to pick someone up.

As I stamped through the entryway of my building and realized I should prop open the front gate because in my haste I’d forgotten to grab my keys, a thirty-something white man hurried behind me. “Is that one of YOUR FRIENDS honking?” I barked at him ready to give him a piece of my mind.

It turns out he is not the enemy but a fellow peace-keeper like myself. In fact, he is the same guy who stormed out to battle alongside Brad some months ago at 4am when this same honking business interrupted us in a late night chat over bottles of wine (not glasses of - I’m inclined to believe.) As I would’ve gone out there and shouted at the offender in a voice louder than any car horns, we thought it’d be a smarter idea if Brad went out there and I stayed on the balcony to watch from a very safe distance in case there was a fist fight (which there almost was. My friendly neighbor is on a crusade against rudeness just like we are.)

I have only seen this thirty-something white man on these two occasions although I suspect he’s lived in this building as long as I have. But with the Armenians taking over all the common areas, we less colorful cultures of people in the building seem a lot less noticeable by comparison.

I guess that although super annoying, the honking has brought two neighbors closer together.

And you always thought I was a pessimist!

Grandparents exist to spoil their grandchildren.  Grandparents are retired and many times lonely so they welcome any sort of interaction even if it is with a 2 year old, 5 year old, 10 year old, etc.  Now normally, spoiling your grandchildren is easy - give them noisy toys that will instantly sound shrill to the ears of the parents or load the kids up on candy and have them running around hyperactive.  But when you all live under one roof, like my friendly Armenian neighbors, what do you do?  Any annoying, noisy toy you buy them will annoy not only their parents, but you too.  Any hyperactivity due to the candy you stuff in their little faces, you have to endure as well as their parents.  And if you don’t discipline them, their problems will become your problems because you have to live in the same 900 square feet.

Well, in my building, these live-in grandparents spoil their grandchildren like all other grandparents and then they sit outside in the courtyard drinking Turkish coffee, playing backgammon/chess and chatting with their other grandparently friends at a noise-level louder than the grandchildren they’re trying to escape as they are old and deaf.  So that leaves the rest of us who live in the building not only having to deal with the loud screaming, sugar-overdosed grandchildren in the apartments beneath us but with the old cronies chatting at a level even louder than the grandchildren’s screams in the courtyard outside our living rooms.

Lovely.

Brad is quite the snoring machine. Sleeping with him is a strange combination of love and cuddles and spooning and FORTHELOVEOFGODCOULDYOUPLEASEROLLOVER! He not only snores, but sweats, slobbers, drools and on a really lucky occasion, will steal all the covers as well.

A week or two ago after a few restless nights, I very sweetly asked Brad if he could possibly make a trip to the drug store and purchase the anti-snore nose strips. He went that very day. I love him. Now, apparently the strips only work if you apply them properly.

Let me just tell you that last night, I don’t think Brad applied it properly because as I laid in bed working on a sudoku, I started hearing some very strange growling noises. I ignored it for awhile realizing I live on the top floor of my buildings and no wild animals would be able to get me up there. Then I noticed it was coming from within my bedroom - from within my bed as a matter of fact. It was Brad, of course. The mis-application of the nose strips turns the snoring into a growl.

Great.

After work last night, I stopped over at Brad’s. I had some goodies to drop off - Chinese food, dessert, etc. and I decided to sit down and work on a couple of crossword puzzles and a sudoku. Then I spotted the Nano I gave myself Brad for Valentine’s day and realized it was feeling neglected and decided to give it some attention. So I was sitting there at the kitchen table jamming to some tunes when I heard a door slam now and again. I kept thinking it was Brad coming home from work but they were all false alarms. I had the earbuds in and wasn’t able to hear much but when a door was opened or shut, I could at the very least feel some sort of vibration to clue me in. Finally, I felt/heard a door shut and thought it might be Brad but didn’t see any signs of him. All of a sudden, he walked into the kitchen and I let out a minorly startled gasp (it was less of a gasp and more of a quiet intake of breath as I had expected him to come around the corner and was ready but not maybe at that exact nano-second.) Brad danced for joy as it was finally his turn to sneak up on me “successfully.”

Okay, Brad, you scared me to death. I was falling over from the shock. You got me back. Now we’re even. It’s my turn to get you back again.

(For the blog posts previously referencing this, check out “Rubber Tarantula,” and “Ha! Thought you could ruin my fun, did you?!”)

I’m sitting at home tonight after a long, arduous day of casting. Brad and I both worked at the studios today although we were on opposite ends of the building and barely saw each other all day.

He called me when he got home and he was talk talk talking away to which I was barely listening as I was reading/writing something online at the same time (as per my usual - hey, I’m a freeking multi-tasker, okay?!) and at some point in the conversation (he may have been saying goodbye or something, who knows) he said, “I love you.”

As I wasn’t really listening or paying attention to my response, I said, “I love you tomorrow.” Not, “I love you too,” but, “I love you TOMORROW.” (Who knows where that came from. Maybe I had a zillion thoughts in my head. Maybe I was reading/writing something with the word tomorrow. I have no clue.)

Now, I didn’t even realize that “too” became “tomorrow” until he said, “What?!”

I snapped back into the conversation, detecting a questioning tone. So I replied, “What!”

“Did you just say, ‘I love you tomorrow?’” He laughed a little.

So I said, “Yeah, I love you tomorrow,” as if it was the most natural, normal response in the world. He laughed some more, like I’m the funniest person in the world.

I do love him so very much. Tomorrow.

Casting is fun at times. Check out our website if you want to see some of the commercials we’ve worked on. www.spotcasting.net

Today is Valentine’s Day and Brad started a new job a few weeks ago running camera and directing sessions at the Casting Studios, where I work when I’m in the casting world. Today was the first day we worked there at the same time. And wouldn’t you know, we ended up in the studios next to each other. It was nice seeing each other in passing all day, like we had a little secret. (Although it’s no secret - everyone knows.)

Now we’re at home with no big plans. I made dinner and chocolate covered strawberries and we’re watching the Olympics. Brad thinks he might be fighting off a cold so we’re not even really kissing. Grrrrrreat. I guess I won’t be joining all the people at the Pleasure Chest getting naughty little somethings for a crazy Valentine’s night with their sweeties. Oh well, there’s always next year! Ha ha.

One thing is for certain, it’s nothing like our crazy night out with Michelle, Dana, Marshall and his sister last Friday!

So, since I said no to making a bucket of money on that last job offer, I’ve found saying no is not as hard as I once thought. I decided to turn down all work and take this weekend off. I think I slept 30-40 hours. Wow. I was a sudoku machine - pages and pages of sudoku were done in bed. I read a book and a half. I took a shower, only that wore me out so I went back to bed. Then, I went shopping. I had lunch with my boyfriend at an outdoor café and we sat up late-night watching the Olympics! (Apparently the opening ceremonies took place right about at the same time as my last posting.) I even went to a Mardi Gras/Valentine Party. It was a great weekend!