Kristabella: Full of Snark Since 1977

Posted By Kristabella on February 26, 2007

People. People! Peeeee-pull. I joined a gym. Me! I joined one! For fuck’s sake!

Shocking, I know.

So the money/gym gods must have been looking down upon me today. (Like the satellite TV gods were looking upon me last night, turning my TV back on right before the telecast.) See, I really need to join a gym. What with that stupid running thing I got myself into. And running outside in the snow and cold so isn’t going to get me motivated.

I had all intentions to join after I got back from Seattle.

But then? They made me pay for that hotel room. And as you saw, it ain’t a cheap room. Now granted, we get the room at like half price (let me know if you’re going to Seattle!), but still, it’s a lot of money. And I? Do not have any money. So I had to put that room on my debit card. Which meant, there went all my cash until payday. Which is this Thursday. (Thank God!)

Anyway, so with the prospect of no money. And not wanting to put it on my credit card, (that would be no way of getting out of debt) I was putting it off. And NOT running. Which, lose-lose for me. (Or win-win. Depends on how you look at it.)

But today, when walking past the gym, I saw a beacon of light. Shining down on the sign out in front of the building. And a choir of angels, singing. “$0 Initiation Fee.” My first thought? Cool, I’ll do it tomorrow. But seriously, how many times have I said that. So I went in. And I signed up. For a gym! And hell did not freeze over. Not yet anyway.

And since they bill on the 3rd of the month, I had to pay $2.06 for Feb. Two dollars. That? I can do. And then they’ll take $64 out of my checking account on the 3rd. Which is after payday. (Hallelujah!) (There’s that damn angel choir again.)

I know what you’re saying, “$64 for a gym membership? Have you gone bat-shit crazy, woman??”

The answer? Probably. But here’s the deal. I have no motivation. I will sit on my ass and not run and then that f’ing Shamrock Shuffle will come up and Kah-pie-ow! I fall dead of a heart attack running. And DON’T get the free beer. (Travesty. A damn travesty.)

Now there are other gyms. But those ones either A) cost over $100 a month or B) require me to get on the train and then get off to go work out. Let me keep it real, yo. That won’t happen. If I get on the train, I’m not getting off until it is the stop by my house. Word.

So my new gym, well it’s right by the red line stop. I have to walk past it every day. Yes, I could take the long way to the train, but since I am the epitome of laziness, I will walk past it every day. And I will be guilted into going inside. Because I’m a ginormous fucking pushover.

Don’t believe me? I signed up for the free personal training session. And am already dreading having to not take any more personal training sessions. Know why? They’re expensive. There’s a reason only rich people have personal trainers.

But how am I going to walk past that chick every day? Knowing, full well, she could make me look like this. For the low, low price of $1800.

Well, minus the dress and the fine-ass hair. Daaaaaammmmmn. Ryan Phillippe is such an ass.

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Posted By Kristabella on February 25, 2007

Oh. My. Oscar.

I lurve the Oscars. It’s like my second favorite TV day behind the Super Bowl. It’s like pop culture’s Super Bowl.

The red carpet! And the celebrities! And the fashion!

I was thinking of writing a timeline of my watching of the Oscars tonight. But then I started writing it, and it got really boring. Especially if you’re reading tomorrow and are all “what the fuck is she talking about? I don’t remember Kate Winslet’s dress. Skank! Write something worth reading.”

So instead, I’m going to re-cap it. Because really, people have stopped really wearing horribly ridiculous things to award shows, so there isn’t much to talk about. And, I’m a fat ass with no acting talent, so really? No room to judge.

I do seriously love this night. Like I’ve been watching the E! red carpet stuff since 5. (And no, I didn’t start watching the E! coverage that started this MORNING! See, I told you it was like the Super Bowl. With prettier people.)

But I figure I should share some of my thoughts. Because I’m usually yelling things out at the TV. To no one but the cats. So now you’ll get a lovely insight into my opinions. The only ones that matter. Duh.

(This totally reminds me of the year in college I watched alone and that ended up turning into Amber and I trading phone calls. The best one being about Madonna’s man arms.)

5:43 Emily Blunt just showed up with Michael Buble. Love Michael Buble. That Emily Blunt is a lucky bitch.

5:44 The satellite dish just went out for like 2 seconds. F’ing snow! Get it over with. Now!

5:46 Still going in and out. Which is fine during the commercials. E! Is playing that new Fergie song in and out of commercials. Why does she have to spell in every song??

5:47 Seriously, satellite dish? Fuck you! You’re on notice!

5:48 OK, fine…I’ll go pick up the pizza I ordered. You better work when I get back. Bastard. 

6:30 The damn dish JUST came back on. Just in time, bitches!

6:33 Forest Whitaker. I just keep thinking of him as the creepy dude on ER. And seriously, I hope you prepared a speech. I can’t take much more award acceptance speeches of you blubbering through it. You’re the front-runner. Get yo ass prepared!

6:35 Ryan Seacrest has to keep telling people that they’re “Live on E!” I wish he wouldn’t. It might be more entertaining.

6:37 Beyonce. Yawn. I think she has grapes tied around her neck. (So much for the non-timeline thing.)

7:02 I took a long break, because I didn’t have much to say. And was eating pizza. Because stuffing my face makes me feel better about snarking about skinny, beautiful people.

7:04 So Lisa Ling on ABC has this totally 80 dress on. It’s like short mini-skirt in the front and long in the back. It’s a mullet dress.

7:05 And Nicole Kidman (who I don’t like) looks OK, except for the huge bow right by her neck. Blech.

7:06 Jennifer Hudson, WHAT. ARE. YOU. WEARING??? That space coat? Dress? Cute. Half-jacket? Not cute.

7:06.5 And HOLY SHIT it has pockets!! U-G-L-Y you ain’t got no alibi.

7:08 Anne Hathaway’s dress is like some backwards-ass tuxedo or something.

7:14 Cameron Diaz. Much better choice than the Golden Globes, honey. This is more like it. Your hair looks like a rat’s nest. But you’re doing a lot better than that train wreck of a dress at The Globes. Not much better. Baby steps.

7:17 I thought the people on E! were annoying. Thank God ABC’s pre-show shit is only 30 minutes. When did that dude move from MTV?

7:26 I hope I’m as hot as Helen Mirren when I’m old. Hell, I hope I’m that hot now.

7:42 Nice Al Gore joke, Ellen. Ha! America didn’t vote for Jennifer Hudson, but voted for Al. Heeee.

7:45 I do not like that little girl from Little Miss Sunshine. And her dress is ugly. I know you’re young. But someone should know better and tell you that this? Not cute.

7:50 I’m not sure I like Maggie Gyllenhaal. I don’t know. She just annoys me.

7:53 Will Farrell singing! Hilarious! And Jack Black!

8:02 Boring awards. Let’s get to the good stuff. And that annoying Little Miss Sunshine girl presented. With Will Smith’s cute, funny little boy. He’s all “take your damn Oscar nomination and stick it up your ugly dress. Am far better actor. And dude, my dad is Will Smith.”

8:03 Except that annoying gir’s dad is an IT consultant. Heeeee…

8:05 I miss the old format where they at least teased us with the supporting actor and supporting actress awards. And then made us sit through this BS. Shouldn’t this all be taken care of in that other Academy Award thingee held like last weekend?

8:10 In the meantime, more pretty people photos. I heart Kate Winslet. So awesome.

8:15 They just made the sound editing award funny. Steve Carell should present everything. He’s one funny-ass dude.

8:16 This is going to be one long-ass post. This should make up for my lack of posting lately. Which, as you can tell, I’m really upset about.

8:17 I hate Jessica Biel. You shouldn’t be allowed to be this hot.

8:20 I’m totally stoked that my satellite dish came back on. I was sad. And ready to go up on the roof and clear the damn snow off of it. And probably fall and break my neck. Would have been a hell of a blog. Once I got all the use of my limbs back.

8:21 FINALLY! REAL AWARDS! SUPPORTING ACTOR! Which is just going to go to Eddie Murphy so I don’t know why I’m getting so excited.

8:22 I wish it would be Mark Wahlberg, though.

8:23 HOLY SHIT! It went to Alan Arkin! Holy SHIT! Seriously! Wow! Wow.

8:26 I think Ellen is doing a good job. She started a little rough, but is doing well now. (I sound like an American Idol judge. Except she’s not pitchy.)

8:32 James Taylor is singing a song from Cars. (Which I haven’t seen. Have I mentioned I haven’t seen any of these movies?) Cars made my brother cry.

8:42 Dude, I’m bored already. Maybe I should have opened a bottle of wine? Hmmmm…

8:44 Wow! Again, the favorite didn’t win. I thought Cars was supposed to win? The dude accepting looks like a fucking penguin.

8:51 The closest I came to seeing any of these movies was reading Little Children for book club. I used to see movies all the time. In 2005 I saw every nominated picture. I was also unemployed. That would be the reason. Now I have like work to do and work events to attend. Such a grueling life I lead. I know.

9:05 Seriously? You let fucking Tom Cruise come? Why? Whyyyyyyy? Humanitarian, schumanitarian. You’re a douche bag, Tom.

9:22 Wow, Pirates of the Caribbean just won an award. Dude, if Eminem and 36 Mafia can win Oscars, anyone can.

9:23 I’m sooooo bored. The Globes are much better. People drink. Say funny things. And they throw in TV awards too. Yawn.

9:29 Just perked up. Oh my. Clive. Freakin’. Owen. Love him. Eat him up, yum.

9:33 Yes! More hot men! George Clooney! (wiping drool off keyboard) And he’s presenting a real award. And Jennifer Hudson took off that ugly jacket. Oh, and she may have won an Oscar. Chi-town represent!

9:37 Dudes, Jennifer Hudson didn’t even realize that George Clooney (GEORGE F’ING CLOONEY) gave her that award. Oscar Schmoscar. I would have stuck my tongue down his throat.

9:39 My friend Sasha used to throw this kick ass Oscar party. She’d make like “theatre” food, like popcorn, nachos, pretzels, red vines, hot dogs. It was a good time. And there was a pool. And I won one year. Which made it even better.

9:47 Jerry Seinfeld! Come back to TV Jerry! Come back!

9:48 I entered the Oscar pool over at Mama Pop! I will not be winning. I really wanted to win for a copy of Jen’s new book. Guess I’ll have to buy it. Which I’m pretty sure is how she wants it.

9:49 Dude! Al Gore like kinda just won an Oscar. Al Gore! He’s like the inventor of the internet. And an Oscar winner. Apparently. (Haven’t seen that movie either.)

9:52 Clint is giving an honorary Oscar to some guy who writes music. Time to use the urination station.

10:02 Dude. Clint Eastwood can do all. Honorary music writer is accepting his award in language I don’t know (Italian, maybe?) and Clint? Is the mother fucking translator.

10:06 More eye candy on the screen. Penelope Cruz AND Hugh Jackman. I’m a sucker for an accent.

10:07 Not only have I not seen any of these movies, but what the hell is Pan’s Labyrinth? And everything you show makes me not want to see it.

10:10 Jack Nicholson shaved his head. It does NOT look good.

10:12 Kirsten Dunst = bad dress. And pairing her with Tobey Maguire probably pisses her off. They do not heart each other.

10:27 This is never going to end. It was supposed to end at 10:30. And I’m tired. Me need sleepy.

10:44 Seriously, let’s end the damn thing! I can’t take it anymore!

10:52 FINALLY! Real Awards! We’re on like the final four now. I can go to bed soon. Soon!

10:55 The shockers are over. Helen Mirren won. Best Actress. Good for her. (Short speech. Short speech.) (She’s such a class act.)

10:56 These shadow dancers are really cool. This is a good effect. It was awesome when they did Snakes on a Plane.

11:01 This is getting ridiculous. But it’s Reese! Being single looks good on her.

11:04 Another Forest Whitaker annoying acceptance speech. He seems more prepared this time. Thank God!

11:07 That was a good speech. I take it back. It took you 17,328 award shows to get it right.

11:12 Finally. The last award of the night. My bed looks so comfy. And I don’t even care who wins. But I had to see this bitch to the finish.

11:14 The Departed won. Wow. I think that was a shocker. I think Babel was favored.

And I don’t care. Good night, kiddies.

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Posted By Kristabella on February 22, 2007

So for most of my time in Seattle this week I sat in a conference room for 8 hours and learned all about this new system we’re launching. The best part, though, was yesterday when we were chatting about Anna Nicole and Britney and all things lovely when it comes to pop culture. (Way better than portfolio management and the like.)

So I was talking about this crazy Anna video. And the one chick, who is a kind of higher up, was all interested in it. I told her I would send the link to the video. Which I did. And told her “it’s a good blog, if you’re a blog reader.” Which she said she was.

And then as I was sitting on the plane last night, I was all “Shit! Maybe not a good idea.” Because I comment on there. And she may accidentally click the link to one of my many comments. Because they’re all witty and such.

And BAM! There the fuck goes my whole cover and no one seeing my blog from work.

I might as well just send out an all-staff e-mail now.

And no, I never overreact.

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Posted By Kristabella on February 19, 2007

So I’m sitting here in my room blogging. (Wow. That sentence makes for an interesting post.) Oh, and did I mention I just worked out downstairs? And that included running? RUNNING! I’m quite proud of myself. It wasn’t so bad. Jenn sent me some training guidelines. And I’ve been reading up on it. The key is to not do too much too soon, otherwise you’ll end up hating it. So I’m taking it slow. But I took the first step. And I feel good. And I need to keep it up.

The treadmills in the hotel have a TV built right in. That’s pretty damn cool. Because usually I don’t like to watch what they have on in the gym. Like my last gym, which showed the Food Network. Sorry, I’m already fat and hungry, don’t make me even hungrier. And I hate Rachel Ray. Working out = already not fun. Add that squeaky bitch into the mix, making meals in 30 minutes that would normally take a normal person an hour, and now you see why I never went. And let them take money out of my account every month.

Last night after I landed, Amber, Rich and I went out in Ballard for dinner and drinks. We had a good time. They had PBR on tap. Which is good. And they also have Olympia beer in cans. Which is like Washington’s version of Old Style or Old Milwaukee. $2 a can, bitches.

And also? They have the best fries. And they serve them with French onion dip. Which rocks! It tastes so good! Ranch has nothing on French onion dip people. French onion dip for fries. Who knew?

Rich and I stayed out until about 1ish and I totally left him at the bar when he was paying the tab. I was so tired. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. And I knew he was going to drag me into the club next to the pub. So I just went home. And good thing. Because he’s hurting today. Can’t even rally himself up to drink tonight. (Which, oh my, thank God! I just want to watch TV, take a bath and get to bed early.)

And that’s all I got. Because training was training today. I didn’t see any of the consulting people. They are on another floor. Which is fine. Most of them work out of the office anyway.

But I wanted to share the awesomeness that is the Hotel 1000 in Seattle. Check out this room.

Two words – Flat Screen

Comfy bed

This is the world’s greatest tub. With the water. That comes from the ceiling.

And while you’re in the tub, you can look out into the room through the glass. And watch TV on the 40-inch flat panel. (There’s a power shade that goes down too, if you want some privacy.)

Awesome room. And finally…

Mmmmmmm beer…

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Posted By Kristabella on February 19, 2007

Because I went out right when I landed, I didn’t get to post this yesterday. Which I suppose isn’t so bad because A) this post blows and B) you all wouldn’t have read it until today so it would have been past tense anyway. Oh and C) pretty much the rest of the world has today off. But without further ado, I give you my post that was meant to be posted yesterday in all its crapiness.

It is fucking hot in O’Hare Airport right now. I’m sitting at my gate waiting for my flight to depart. (Obviously after you’ve all read this I will have already taken off and landed. Hopefully. My flight is delayed 25 minutes right now. Which isn’t too big of a deal because, well, it’s O’Hare and nothing is on time from here and they always overestimate how long the flight takes. So I might still be on time. Which, again, you all don’t care about because really? I’ll already be in Seattle when I post this. Because I’m not paying $7 to access the WiFi in the airport when it’s only going to be for an hour.) (Can you tell I’m hung over and I just am rambling a whole lot of nonsense?) (Hung over and fucking sweating my ass off because it’s hot as a Mo Fo in this damn place.) (And hot and hung over do not make for a good time. Especially if you’re sitting next to me and my sweat smells oddly like beer.) (Miller Lite to be exact.)

So last night was the first of many 30th birthday party celebrations I’ll be having this year. Schwerer kicked us off in style last night (her real birthday is Wednesday, which happens to be Ash Wednesday, which is funny to me. Because that’s like the one day you’re not supposed to drink. Mostly because you’ve consumed like a human sewer the night before.) So we had a great party, which started with dinner and drinks at Lou Malnatti’s pizza. Which, you could have stopped there and I would have been good.

The pizza was awesome. The cake, shaped like Wrigley Field, complete with famous sign and scoreboard, was awesome. Even though it had a layer of banana in it. Fruit does not belong in cake. Chocolate? Good. Vanilla? Good. Frosting? Good. Fruit? BAD. But I ate around it, even though the layers around it had that distinctive banana taste. Which, could make me gag. Even if I wasn’t hung over and steaming.

(Have I mentioned how fucking hot it is in here? And seriously, I may pass out any second. Must get away from window. And sun. And holy Christ, pull the fucking shade down.)

(Oh, and I’m in the middle seat. That’s not going to turn out well for the people on either side of me. Mostly because of the fumes emitting from my body. And because I’ll be typing about them as they read over my shoulder.) (Although if it is the cute boy I just saw, I’m all for that.) (Edited to add: It wasn’t. Was a pilot (not our pilot, thank God) and a short woman. Short people should not be allowed in the exit row. Waste.)

(They just moved gates. And it’s a little cooler here. Not much. But the sun isn’t scorching my extremities now.)

So yeah, where was I? Right, last night. Dinner. Pizza. Mmmmmmmm pizza. I could so go for some pizza right now. So it was all fine and good. Except until the end. When Schwerer’s sister wasn’t feeling too hot. She said her stomach was not feeling good at all. And then BAM! She was puking in an empty beer pitcher. At the table. The table FULL of people. And thought nothing of it. Granted, there was one stall in the bathroom and a long line, so she had not other option. But seriously? We got out of there like lightning fast because people puking tends to make others puke. Haven’t you seen Airplane? Or some other movie that I’m sure I’ve seen that in.

That got us to thinking. Because there is an infamous story of Schwerer in
New Orleans, puking in an empty cup at Pat O’Brien’s. Somewhat inconspicuously. (According to the drunk people with her.) So what is it with the Schwerer sisters that leads them to puking at a full table of people?

(Oh my. Some chick just sat down and is eating pizza. I may tackle her. She’s totally like 18. I could so take her.)

After dinner we went out to some bar, which used to be a bar you could smoke in AND buy cigars, but they went smoke-free on January 1. So maybe they should change the marquee outside (OK, not a marquee. Just a sign on one of many entrances in a strip mall.) The marquee that says “Smokehouse and Tavern” or something. I just know it says Smokehouse. Which it is no longer. And I really needed a stogie last night.

After Fake Smokehouse, we ended up at the country line dancing place. Cadillac Ranch. Or The Ranch as it’s known by probably no one other than us. This marked my third time there. Ever. And it’s not so bad. I mean the people watching alone is awesome. The people who frequent The Ranch range in ages from 21 to 65. And they all know all these dances. It’s totally like the Nazis marching. (Which I’m pretty sure I say every time I’m there. And think I’m so genius for coming up with that every time.) They all get out there and do these synchronized dances with absolutely expressionless faces on. Like they totally aren’t enjoying it. I must have missed out that day when they implanted the robot country line dancing chips. And I’m totally OK with that.

And they all know how to two-step and do all those dances. It’s just bizarre to watch. And the best part? After 2 AM it switches into a hip hop club. So I was really enjoying myself after that. But since we’d been drinking since 6, we didn’t do much dancing. Since we were butt-ass tired.

But all in all, it was a great way to ring in our year of the 30th birthdays. Mine is in September. And I’ve already sent out the evite. I’m a planner and shit like that. And I lurve my birthday.

(This is like a totally combo post. And I’m tired of the parentheses. So you’re just going to have to think like me and jump from topic to topic.)

So I went into the little airport store, Hudson News, and I bought a sweatshirt that said Chicago. No. I didn’t. Who buys those? Cubs, Bears, Bulls, those make sense. I don’t need a shirt that just says Chicago. Unless it says some sort of smart ass thing underneath CHICAGO. (Actually no, I probably still wouldn’t buy it.) Anyway, so I was getting my water and some snacks because although I land in Seattle at 7:30, that’s 9:30 my time and I’m going to be hungry a lot earlier than that. But I can’t eat a big meal because I’m supposed to go to dinner with Amber when I land. So anyway I’m in there buying my stuff and there’s this kid. Like seriously, can’t be older than 16. And he’s trying to buy a Playboy. (Did you know they sold Playboy in airport newsstands? Cause I didn’t and it’s a little disturbing.) Anyway, the store dude is all asking him for ID. And he asks the young one his age. And he says 18. And he looks so guilty. Like it’s written on his face that he’s trying to get away with something. I know. I’ve had that face many a time. Mostly when I was using a fake ID in college. I don’t know if he ended up letting the kid buy it. I didn’t stick around. And yes, I’m kicking myself.

There are no aisle or window seats. The bitchy United worker told me. It’s a simple question lady. I’m not asking for a pot of gold. Just to see the availability. I hate United. Seriously. I really do. I’ve stopped flying it in recent years because they suck. They are always late. Their seats are cramped. They want you to pay extra to nothave your knees shoved up your nose. And that’s just redonkulous. But I had to get this flight last minute, and this was the cheapest by far. Damn you United.

I forgot to mention one interesting part about last night. (This has turned into stream of consciousness. Or like an e-mail. To the small voice inside my head. Who is really horrible about returning e-mails.) So last night the coat girl was there. It was the first time we’d all seen her since “the incident.” And none of us were looking forward to it because we were worried about the ramifications. And it was fine. And I’m glad we all moved on. Especially since really? Not that big of a deal.

So our plane just arrived at the gate. From wherever it came from that delayed us. Maybe I can tell by the people who get off. Hmmm… Maybe one will come off in an Albuquerque sweatshirt. Here comes an old man – could be AZ or Florida. Woman in turtleneck sweater – East Coast? These people gave me no clues. That was not a fun game. I’m sorry we had to go through that together. And I wish I could give you those moments of your life back. But I can’t. Apparently none of these people are sports fans.

Boarding time! I must go now and ride bitch. And probably drool on myself. Or the person sitting next to me.

P.S. So United doesn’t suck so bad. Or at least bitchy gate attendant isn’t as horrible as I may have made her out to seem. She got me a new seat. Not an aisle or a window. But she moved me up to Economy Plus, which has more leg room. AND it was in an exit row. So yeah, stuck in the middle, but no knees in the nose for four hours.

P.P.S. I didn’t get to sleep as much because I kept jerking myself awake every time I was really falling asleep. And since Schwerer told me last night that I talk and make noises in my sleep, I was really worried about it. I will now never be able to sleep around another person again. Which is maybe not too bad because I like to sleep smack dab in the middle of my bed.

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