Pillowcases and Actresses
I wish I could one of those bloggers who just writes little tidbits all throughout the day/week, getting the thoughts down as they come. But I can't. For me, it's generally spew out a ton of thoughts at once or clam up. I'm like that in real life, too. Well, except for the clam up part.
The more there is to blog about, generally the less time I have to blog. It's been a busy few days. Of course, often the stuff that is most interesting, I don't blog about. In case folks are wondering how I can go on and on about the inconsequential tidbits of my life and ignore the big picture stuff, it's because some things I like to keep private. I admire folks who can pour out their hearts about things such as the Columbia tragedy or go on in great detail about their personal life, but I'm not comfortable spilling those kinds of things out. So instead, you get to hear inanities such as:
Why I'm Annoyed at a Certain Prime-Time Actress
There's a certain actress, who I shall not name, who is on a certain NBC sitcom, which I shall not name, whom I was assigned to write a story about. After a first PR person wouldn't call me back, I randomly chose another name off the NBC menu, and voila! She was pleasant and nice and hooked me up with said actress's personal publicist. We arrange for an interview at 6 p.m. my time on Tuesday. I'm a little stressed about being late for my 6:30 sewing class because that is the night we were making our first project. Pillowcases! Very excited about the pillowcases. Especially because my parents gave us those super comfy Tempur-Pedic pillows and none of our pillowcases fit on them properly. I picked out this lovely ivory fabric with tiny white flowers on it, so I could finally make pillow cases that fit! Am I digressing? I think perhaps I am. But, I figure, 6 p.m., interview for about 15 minutes, I can get to class no more than five minutes late. So the office is empty. And I mean empty. I'm sitting at my desk. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting more for the phone to ring. I'm doing a little Web surfing, looking for information on her shows. Waiting. I'm IMing Adam my intense frustration that the phone isn't ringing, because I don't want to call out, as our phone system shoots a caller straight to voicemail if you're on another call (wasn't I supposed to stop having problems like the phone not ringing once I got married?). Finally, at 6:20, I call the publicist. "Oh, let me get X on the line for you." So now I'm sweating, thinking, "Oh my gosh, was I supposed to call her?" But no, I'm 99 percent sure the publicist said she'd call me. Anyway, Publicist gets back on the phone after a few minutes and says, "I'm sorry, can X call you back? She's still in production." Not wanting to miss pillowcases, I ask, "How long?" Publicist says, "Oh about ten minutes. If you like, she can call you on your cell," which doesn't work for me because a) I can't talk and drive. Hell, I can't do anything and drive; b) I can't hook up my tape recorder to my cell phone, and c) I want to make friggin' pillowcases, not sit in the hall whispering a phone interview. So I wait. And wait. And wait. La la la. I'm starting to look up all the negative reviews about the show. It's making me feel a little better. Finally at 6:52, the phone rings. I answer in my perky voice, because that's what I'm paid to do, only I don’t hear Ms. X’s voice but Publicist. "Jenny, I am so, so sorry. Would it be possible to reschedule this for tomorrow?" I grit my teeth and work on cheerful as I agree, jotting the time in my calendar and running--I mean running--to class. I made it 45 minutes late with a lot of huffing and puffing, but the teacher was cool about it, which brings me to...
My Pillowcase
It is beautiful. I mean beautiful. Okay, the hem isn't that straight and don't look too closely at the interior zig zag stitches 'cause I don't want you to notice that there are two sets, because I messed up the first one, but it's a beautiful pillowcase. It's on my pillow right now as we speak. It would have been on Adam's pillow, because I can be nice like that, but he was at a sports bar watching basketball with friends and when I called at 9, he said he'd be home soon, but he didn't get home until close to 11, which is so not soon, so I kept the pillowcase for myself, because I can be vindictive like that. But I had a good night's sleep, which is a fine thing, because I had to interview Ms. X the next day, which brings me to...
Why I'm No Longer Annoyed with a Certain Prime-Time Actress
She called right on time on Wednesday morning and she was as nice as nice could be. God forbid, she was the kind of gal that I think I'd actually want to hang out with if I knew her in person. Terribly goofy. Said things every now and then that made me want to say to her, "Um, you do know I'm a writer? That I'm going to be writing this stuff down?" but I found that all the more endearing. And it's not like I write for the Globe or anything. I'm not exactly looking to dig up dirt. I wish I could name her, so you could all watch her show, but since I don’t write about work, I can’t do it. Although maybe one of these days I’ll post the link to her interview on my work writing page and you’ll be able to figure out who she is.
(Not so interesting fact I learned while writing this blog. Pillowcase is actually one word! I didn't realize that!)
More inanities to come as they happen....
The more there is to blog about, generally the less time I have to blog. It's been a busy few days. Of course, often the stuff that is most interesting, I don't blog about. In case folks are wondering how I can go on and on about the inconsequential tidbits of my life and ignore the big picture stuff, it's because some things I like to keep private. I admire folks who can pour out their hearts about things such as the Columbia tragedy or go on in great detail about their personal life, but I'm not comfortable spilling those kinds of things out. So instead, you get to hear inanities such as:
Why I'm Annoyed at a Certain Prime-Time Actress
There's a certain actress, who I shall not name, who is on a certain NBC sitcom, which I shall not name, whom I was assigned to write a story about. After a first PR person wouldn't call me back, I randomly chose another name off the NBC menu, and voila! She was pleasant and nice and hooked me up with said actress's personal publicist. We arrange for an interview at 6 p.m. my time on Tuesday. I'm a little stressed about being late for my 6:30 sewing class because that is the night we were making our first project. Pillowcases! Very excited about the pillowcases. Especially because my parents gave us those super comfy Tempur-Pedic pillows and none of our pillowcases fit on them properly. I picked out this lovely ivory fabric with tiny white flowers on it, so I could finally make pillow cases that fit! Am I digressing? I think perhaps I am. But, I figure, 6 p.m., interview for about 15 minutes, I can get to class no more than five minutes late. So the office is empty. And I mean empty. I'm sitting at my desk. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting more for the phone to ring. I'm doing a little Web surfing, looking for information on her shows. Waiting. I'm IMing Adam my intense frustration that the phone isn't ringing, because I don't want to call out, as our phone system shoots a caller straight to voicemail if you're on another call (wasn't I supposed to stop having problems like the phone not ringing once I got married?). Finally, at 6:20, I call the publicist. "Oh, let me get X on the line for you." So now I'm sweating, thinking, "Oh my gosh, was I supposed to call her?" But no, I'm 99 percent sure the publicist said she'd call me. Anyway, Publicist gets back on the phone after a few minutes and says, "I'm sorry, can X call you back? She's still in production." Not wanting to miss pillowcases, I ask, "How long?" Publicist says, "Oh about ten minutes. If you like, she can call you on your cell," which doesn't work for me because a) I can't talk and drive. Hell, I can't do anything and drive; b) I can't hook up my tape recorder to my cell phone, and c) I want to make friggin' pillowcases, not sit in the hall whispering a phone interview. So I wait. And wait. And wait. La la la. I'm starting to look up all the negative reviews about the show. It's making me feel a little better. Finally at 6:52, the phone rings. I answer in my perky voice, because that's what I'm paid to do, only I don’t hear Ms. X’s voice but Publicist. "Jenny, I am so, so sorry. Would it be possible to reschedule this for tomorrow?" I grit my teeth and work on cheerful as I agree, jotting the time in my calendar and running--I mean running--to class. I made it 45 minutes late with a lot of huffing and puffing, but the teacher was cool about it, which brings me to...
My Pillowcase
It is beautiful. I mean beautiful. Okay, the hem isn't that straight and don't look too closely at the interior zig zag stitches 'cause I don't want you to notice that there are two sets, because I messed up the first one, but it's a beautiful pillowcase. It's on my pillow right now as we speak. It would have been on Adam's pillow, because I can be nice like that, but he was at a sports bar watching basketball with friends and when I called at 9, he said he'd be home soon, but he didn't get home until close to 11, which is so not soon, so I kept the pillowcase for myself, because I can be vindictive like that. But I had a good night's sleep, which is a fine thing, because I had to interview Ms. X the next day, which brings me to...
Why I'm No Longer Annoyed with a Certain Prime-Time Actress
She called right on time on Wednesday morning and she was as nice as nice could be. God forbid, she was the kind of gal that I think I'd actually want to hang out with if I knew her in person. Terribly goofy. Said things every now and then that made me want to say to her, "Um, you do know I'm a writer? That I'm going to be writing this stuff down?" but I found that all the more endearing. And it's not like I write for the Globe or anything. I'm not exactly looking to dig up dirt. I wish I could name her, so you could all watch her show, but since I don’t write about work, I can’t do it. Although maybe one of these days I’ll post the link to her interview on my work writing page and you’ll be able to figure out who she is.
(Not so interesting fact I learned while writing this blog. Pillowcase is actually one word! I didn't realize that!)
More inanities to come as they happen....
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