“This is America. We shouldn’t be in this predicament,” A lovely working class woman exclaimed on the 6 o’clock news tonight.
While those assholes in tacky, expensive suits bicker about our budget, our brave soldiers in camouflage thousands of miles from home are worried their families in the very country they are risking their lives for might get evicted and go hungry.
Is that a run-on sentence?
I’m sorry….I am really not well versed in politics but this is a little insane isn’t it?
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| photo courtesy of The Silver Fox |
Dear Vons Cookies,
Why are you so delicious? Why do I feel the need to eat one, or two, or three of you after each and every meal including breakfast?
You’re kind of breakfasty right?
No.
You are delectable though! If I could marry a cookie I would marry you.
No prenup. Promise.
Karla
Dear Vons,
PLEASE STOP selling these delicious cookies. I BEG OF YOU!
I am gaining 4 lbs a week purely because of these treats.
I bought 2 boxes this past trip. I live alone.
Many thanks,
Karla
Dear Karla,
CONTROL YOURSELF!
Karla FattyBoBatty
Yes, my friends. This was my dinner tonight. The most delicious Cookies on Earth and a giant glass of cheap Chianti.
June 2, 1986…..
My first entry in the Diary above. I have been recording my thoughts, feelings, happy moments and crushing heartbreaks in some sort of journal since 1986.
Inside you can see plenty of little sparkly stickers…..love notes from random testosterone filled boys, candy packets pressed flat from years between these pastel pages…..blue pen, purple pen, pink ink…tear smeared writing, excited teen tummy butterflies as well as teen angst,…..loving my parents..and two pages later hating them. I even attempt to create some sort of code so that if my Mother happened to find my beloved confidant she wouldn’t be able to decipher my mysteries.
Except the code wasn’t all that elusive. It was downright easy to figure out once you look on the back cover to find the “key”. Silly girl. What was my 10 year old self thinking?! You are smarter than that Karlita! Argh.
Okay, back to the boys thing. Yes I had love notes from boys when I was 10. I’m flirty now, I was flirty then. In fact I was quite a tease leading to endless pages of a distraught teenager desperate for Phillip to come back to her, among others.
You see….good old pimply faced Phil dumped Karla because she didn’t french him at the roller rink. I swear people. It is written in baby blue ink right on these pages.
Jerk.
As I go through the thousands of pages in journal after journal I learned my lesson from that situation. Easy became my middle name. Thanks Phil.
JOKE. geez. Don’t get your Thursday panties in a bunch.
I cannot thank my young self enough for being so diligent about writing each and every night. I would have zero memory of my childhood had I not.
It drums up so many emotions going over my old scrawl. It is quite amazing how hurtful things can be at 12 years old. How 1 event can change the course of your life for the better or worse. How 1 snotty blonde popular girl can ruin your 11th birthday party by telling the entire 5th grade not to go, then only a year later end up as your best friend for the next 20 years.
My favorite quotes from my My Melody Diary…
“11/5/1985
I like this kid in my class his name is Dominic. He likes me too. What should I say to him? He has black hair, brown eyes, nice teeth, but a very stinky personality.”
Well that explains a lot.
“6/2/86
I’m so glad that I’m going to camp cuz my bratty brother won’t be there to bother me…plus I want to meet some guys.”
Yes, I literally wrote those words. I was 10 people.
Madonna was my idol so I guess this is not surprising.
My personal favorite….
“6/3/86
Mr. X likes me because in class he always gets yelled at for staring at me. I feel so embarrassed when he does that.”
Embarrassed? Yeah right. Holy ego Original Batman Show.
Oh and there are soooooo many more where those came from. Please comment if you would like to see more.
I have slacked on my Diary writing the past few years. I guess blogging is sort of a journal, right? Thing is……a true Diary is not meant to be read by anyone else. A diary is meant to be private so I feel as though I was more honest with myself than I could ever be with the rest of the world. Precisely why the writing was so pure and unself-conscious. (yes, that’s a word.)
All this blogging, and twittering is so narcissistic really. We all think we are so witty and clever. So funny and irreverent. Its so self serving in a way. It has not much to do with sharing our thoughts with others but to make ourselves seem interesting.
I digress.
Yes….the photo above includes a TELEGRAM. Or what was supposed to be a telegram.
Yes, I’m ancient. At Mineola Middle School On Valentines Day students sent Pink telegrams to one another to express their love and affection. We didn’t have texts, or emails, or twats…well we sorta did have those. We didn’t have immediate gratification. We had lined paper and pink telegrams. We had Hello Kitty Diaries. We had pens…..and paper and heartbreak.
If one more person tells me I need to twat or get on Facebook I will kick them in the belly.
Recently I heard that I basically lost a job to a woman who has a better “online presence” than I do. She has like a million followers so she is clearly more talented than I, right?!
Can someone please tell me how we got to a place where living your life on your portable device makes you more qualified for a job?
I have my face buried in my Blackberry most of my day answering emails, work and personal. I have no desire to then add to that beloved b-berry face time social networking sites where I have to tell everyone I know, and don’t fucking know at all, that I just picked up my dog’s poo, bought a loaf of french bread or hate Chris Brown.
Am I a hypocrite because I am blogging right now? This is much more cathartic for me than a short status update that’s supposed to be witty and clever in 180 letters.
Maybe I am old fashioned and need to get with the times but I have a severe aversion to the very things that producers are saying I need to do in order to get a job as an anchor/host/correspondent these days. (The very things I have been working as before FB was even invented)
Now you are no longer simply a host but the show’s PR department as well. They are too cheap to hire a publicist to get the word out about the show they need the talent to do the work.
My friends….what to do?
Do I get on my twitter and friend everyone I possibly can? Send totally insincere messages about how beautiful life is….and how the sky is blue, and how I knew all along that insane Charlie Sheen was? It is really so self- indulgent that we actually think other people want to know what we think every second of the day. Oh wait…..they do.
It all boils down to the fact that we are all basically voyeurs. We are all cyber stalkers who don’t want to admit it. There is no room for mystery anymore. No subtlety.
My problem is that I thrive in those worlds. I find them much more attractive in many ways. Personally and professionally.
Not W i n n i n g.
March rolls in like a lion and out like a lamb….
March is the month of my Birth.
I love the month of March.
Except for that fact that it means I have to do my dreaded taxes. I am very, very organized for a freelance stylist/actress/host/dancer..etc.
Still, every year the onset of panic starts around Feb 27th.
Most people don’t really enjoy doing their taxes. I am sure there are exceptions to the rule….if you know anyone who loves it I would be curious what kool-aid they are drinking because I need some.
I, on the opposite side of the spectrum despise doing tax stuff. It is really not all that bad when all is said and done but while I am crunching numbers and unfolding 365 days worth of tiny, crushed up receipts that have been squashed at the bottom of my purse for 6 months it is pure Hades. I hunker down for hours and sometimes days hiding behind a mound of paper and confusion.
My poor, poor accountant has dealt with me and my paranoid mania for many years. This year he actually paid me a “compliment”. He said it seemed as though something was different. I wasn’t wound as tight! So nice of him to notice.
I said…..well Mr. Reliable Audit Protector, “I didn’t have the best year financially but on a personal level it was a damn good one.”
He responded with, “Well, Client that I usually dread sitting down with each and every year, you can’t have everything.”
He is 100% correct- not in a literal sense….on a larger scale I mean. Looking back over the year, through all my disaster of chewing gum wadded torn up tiny receipts and 1099 forms I was fortunate to have worked at all. The money, as long as I was supporting myself was inconsequential because I was… happy.
Finally, truly, undeniably, beautifully, sincerely happy.
Happy is not always so attainable especially when things are tight on the fake Canal street Chanel wallet.
So 2010, thank you for being a great year….I was and still am, to say it simply, happy.
If it takes me going through the history of my life via small payments I made for anything and everything I needed for the year, to realize how great you were, then so be it.
So receipts, Thank you too.
“Old Black Water…..Keep on movin
Mississippi moon won’t u keep on shinin’ on meeeeee
Pretty Mamma come and take me by the hand…..”
I was so fortunate to have the honor of styling the world famous, legendary Doobie Brothers recently.
They are releasing new music in 2011 and I dressed them for their new music video “Far From Home”. We shot it at the historic Orpheum Theatre in downtown LA. The song was particularly heartfelt for me as it’s written about Pat Simmons’ daughter leaving home. It is sweet and nostalgic. I shed quite a few tears off stage as I watched them perform in awe. These guys are rock stars, tried and true. I was barely born and they were busy touring the world and drumming up debauchery.
Now, they are writing songs about their very own daughters leaving the nest. I guess time goes on and even rock stars grow up, huh?
I have NO idea how I could possibly wardrobe anyone as good as how they are dressed in this photo. Almost everyone I know is aware of the fact that I am obsessed with vintage clothes from the 70’s. This photo makes me swoon.
I worked to the best of my taste maker ability and shopped my tail off for these guys.
My stock of options was plentiful; from new to vintage, to vintage that wasn’t too vintage that they would feel old when they tried it on.
Regardless…..they loved my work on the video and I have been asked to personal shop a little bit as well. I have done some pretty cool jobs in my life, this definitely rates up very high on that list.
I mean, who doesn’t love the Doobie Brothers?!!!!
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| That’s me! Fixing drummer Tony Pia’s jacket. Freaking good times. |
I wrote this a few months ago...and was too chicken to post it for some reason. Bok Bok!
Maybe it was too personal? Maybe it struck up too many bad memories. Now I am saying....what
the heck.
Have u seen the show "Married to Rock"? On E!?
Its my new favorite thing. I want to bleach my hair blonde again and wear
a massive padded bra just to fit in with them. I can find myself an over the hill rocker!
Right? This is LA.
Anyway, one of the girls is basically experiencing exactly
what I did with her boyfriend. He refuses to marry her. And is quite frankly
pretty mean about it. He is even a jerk about attending other weddings w her.
She's always a bridesmaid and never a bride and has to be supportive of her
friends getting married and smile thru her tears.
She tries oh so hard to be enthusiastic for them and does a great job of it
even tho she's clearly pretty heartbroken.
It's a cheesy show but there was one very genuine, tender moment
when she watched her friend's first dance with her new husband.
Her eyes were so sad. She was broken. I could relate completely.
I've been there sweetie. Quite a few times in fact.
Try being a bridesmaid and
making a speech about 'true love' at your best friends wedding a few days after your own
long awaited engagement was broken. Hiding the broken promise from all of your
friends during the weekend of festivites
and wearing your diamond ring just so as not to create a stir.
Mind you, you and your ex (a groomsman) were the ones who set up the bride and groom
3 years into your own relationship.
Yeah, that's a blow.
This chick is actually one of the women that's quite stunning. Blonde, tall and rock 'n
roll but not over the top. Modelesque actually. She could walk the VS runway in my opinion
and this curt, rude, wrinkley snobby, jerk won't make her happy and just marry her.
Fine, he doesn't belive in marriage but stop being a downright asshole about it.
She's absolutely the most beautiful creature that man will ever find and she's
really good to him. He's irritable- watches soccer and ignores her....is he
really that bad? Or is the reality tv world just making him out to be so crabby.
Regardless, I had it that bad. I lived the reality of it. I kinda wish I had cameras following me.
My agents would be happy- cuz I would be a reality star and then could actually get a Host job in this business.
It seems as though you need to be a train wreck on reality to tv to host anything anymore.
That's a whole other chapter.