Lately.

7 Jan

Alright, sorry for the break in posts… it was the holidays! I’m back in my office now and starting 2011 with huge hopes, a great start, and definitely secret panic. I will for sure be renewing my anti-anxiety prescription ASAP.

On my way to the Portland Airport Sunday night I received a call from a psychic.  She had gotten my number from my boss’s friend a month ago when he was trying to find someone to take over the studio he was vacating. The psychic is the property manager and my new best friend I’m pretty sure.

I’m getting ahead of myself.

So I answer the phone and she introduces herself and explains why she is calling. She has an awesome studio apartment in West Hollywood, three minutes from where I work for a very ,very low price.

“What is your full name?”

Kate Thornton

“What is your full birthdate?”

I tell her.

“What city were you born in?”

Bakersfield.

“What time were you born at?”

No idea.

So basically she was doing my charts.  This was weird to me until I met her. Part of my application/interview process for the apartment was my natal chart. That is not something you can change or fake. Apparently I am destined to start making more money soon, I am as equally an introvert as I am an extrovert, which is true. With all the energy I expend daily being loud and laughing, I need an equal amount of alone quiet time to balance out my energies.  She also asked me, looking at my chart in her hands, if I was going to have visitors at the apartment. I said no, except for my sister. She looked at me, and said no- are you going to have any… visitors… with a little twinkle in her eye.  I told her that I am single and that the only men that I know right now who might be over are my gay roommate and my gay boss.

She then let me know that she forsees many visitors… weeeeee! A life!

Naturally, I’ve been sitting at my desk, imagining myself drinking some herbal concoction at her house while she has one of her poodles on her lap and I have the other on mine while we talk about the planets and energies together late at night. We’d share a wall. Pretty much roommates. And I’m okay with that.

Tuesday night I stopped by to drop off my deposit check on her screen door, and it turned out she was home! I left an hour later after learning what was on each channel, and many many other things that I don’t have the energy to list right now…

2011. New studio, new writing class (Sunday!), no new job yet (yikes!), and a psychic as my new BFF. Yes please! All I need is a job and I will feel pretty satisfied with my life… for now. I had an interview yesterday at a fashion agency, so I hope that works out… I find out next week!

Obviously I started looking at furniture online to furnish my new room. Which is what the whole place is. A room. Three closets (thank god!), a mini fridge, and a bathroom. Yup, that’s right, no kitchen. But let’s be honest, I don’t cook anyways. My last place in New Orleans was a studio, albeit much, much larger and had a little separation from the bedroom from the rest of the place, so I am more or less used to the idea.  One cozy nook for my cozy little life. No dinner parties, no ‘I’ll do this’ while you sleep.

In other feelings, I’m suppressing my nervousness for my writing class that starts Sunday. I’m basically acting like it’s not happening, and then BOOM I’m supposed to be writing funny things with strangers. Maybe these strangers will end up being my visitors?

I got back to L.A. on Sunday from spending a little over a week in Portland with the fam… Stay tuned for the HILARIOUS photo we took… My mom sent it to me in the smallest possible format, which was such a tease… (p.s. I’m starving.)

One night we went and got happy hour food at Ringside Steakhouse, one table over from my mom’s good friends.  We laughed and joked for a while, which was hard for me because I could hardly breathe through my plugged nose and lungs. At one point, Nancy was explaining to us what mom was like at her favorite Zumba class.

“I can’t figure out how to do this move, so I just do this instead,” awkwardly twirling her hands above her head. I can just picture my mom… Can’t figure out how to simultaneously roll her hips while spinning around and clapping so instead she just stands in place with a cheesy, toothy smile, rolling her wrists while doing some knee bop or something.

On our way out of the restaurant, I was waiting for my mom to come outside.  Her and friends burst out of the door cracking up, and I hear one of them exclaim,

We need to get her a rabbit!

I had a rabbit in college!!!” I exclaim.

Their smiles started fading, the awkward looks settling in, energy gone.

“But, it gave me hives so I had to return it…I was so bummed out! I really wanted to keep it…”

The smiles gone now, pure uncomfortableness had set in.

Oh. They’re talking about a vibrator.

That night my mom had a dream that a ‘snake’ attacked her friend and she murdered both on accident with a ‘hoe.’ Penis bias in full force. But then she put the body parts in a garbage bag under the stairs and when she couldn’t keep the secret any longer she told her realtor about it and together they solved the mystery of why the snake was there in first place.

Her ex-husband wanted her frequent flyer miles.

Great Lifetime Original movie, huh?

(Speaking of Lifetime Original movies… In 7th grade my bff Michelle and I had science together with the weirdest teacher in the planet. Mr. Weidland. I lost my book so Michelle I shared. One day he noticed that I didn’t have my book, so I told him that my mom married her dad and we live together. He was like, oh, ok. Then we decided later that we really didn’t want to stay for the whole class, so I told him that we had just booked acting jobs in a Lifetime Original movie called Take My Hand, starring Michelle Pfeiffer.)

So I’m back at my desk at SWTS. Having a blast and sad that it will be over soon. Last night my coworkers were making fun of me and the things that I wanted to get as ‘essentials’ for my new apartment.

Wallpaper.

A fancy bed.

A butcher block with pull out trash can. (Which is actually awesome and, I feel, necessary. If you don’t have a kitchen and what you call your ‘kitchen’ is an area next to your bed, you don’t want just any trash can lying around. You want it to be enclosed in a cupboard like in a real home. I’m not trying to live in trash smell for one second.)

Obviously it’s not crucial for life to have a wallpapered accent wall, but I’ll make that happen in February because it’s crucial for my happiness.

I Love Wallpaper.

I’m making a headboard out of a fence (shout out to Sharime and her friend Lindsey, whom I’m getting my inspiration from!)

Alright, I need to go. This post is schizophrenic. Organized post to come soon…

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