START SPREADING THE NEWS....

Last Friday I turned Thirty... Three. Considering there are so many shifts and changes in my world, including a show/job that has taken me to New York this week, my birthday was really wonderful, sweet, and happy....

It's hard to believe that 15 years ago, I moved to this city in the hopes of becoming an "act-toorrr." I wanted to do "theee-Ate-er," wear black, smoke cigarettes, and "act from my soulllll...." Okay, I wasn't that affected, but I did smoke cigarettes... a habit I picked up after my freshman RA at NYU introduced us to the Silver Bullet Deli that would happily deliver cigarettes and a bottle of water at any time of the day...

Overnight, I found my bearings, my bars, and my ballsy side...

I was a New Yorker.

As a child growing up in Los Angeles, I'm sure it seemed odd to my parents that I would adopt an imaginary friend named Bodice and her "cousin" Beem-Beem. I don't think anyone would have suspected that come college time, I would follow my "friends" to the big apple... After all, just because Bodice moved to New York to be an actress (and "Beem Beem went with her") didn't necessarily mean I should too... But I did. I was going to go to NYU's Tisch School of the Arts to become the world's most famous actress and do interviews with Barbara Walters (in a British accent... don't ask) and talk about my life, my loves, and the many many children I had adopted and saved....

Well, 11 years post graduation, I'm hardly famous and my accent is hardly British (think Eliza Doolittle meets Sarah Palin). I would have never guessed, standing on the stage of Carnegie Music Hall, receiving my diploma, that I would one day give up acting, move back to Los Angeles, find myself working in a field known as "reality television," fall in love with writing (and become a "blogger")... and I certainly wouldn't have imagined my heart could get completely stolen by a 25 pound little man who's smile is so contagious and tush is

so delicious I would actually consider (and have tried) eating it.

But here I am.... On the 30th floor of an office building overlooking a city (well not so much overlooking... more like wedged in)... in a city that I once swore I'd neeeever EVER leave... down the block from theaters I dreamt of performing in... NOW I'm behind a desk and behind the cameras...

And while my dreams of bantering with Ba-Ba-Wa may never come to fruition (unless I'm producing the famous actress who has actually adopted many children and saved many lives), it feels good to be back here... I'm a real "Working Girl...." with a real head for business and a bod for sin (if I can manage to stay awake)....

But alas, I must sign off. Get back to work and to this show... I've got a deadline.

"Katherine's" on my ass. Let the river ruuuuuunnn......

HAND-ME-DOWNS!

A long time ago, I wrote a post for Momlogic about the Handmedown dilemma that I think every mom experiences. Whether you're the Hand-me-down "Pitcher" (offering your kid's puke stained bouncer and onesie), or the Hand-me-down "Catcher" (receiving your friend's kid's puke stained bouncer and onesie), knowing and understanding the HMD protocol can be a little anxiety provoking.... At least for me. (Shocker).

My dear friend Norah and her partner Jane, however, have created a website that I think takes the anxiety out of what to do with that ridiculously annoying swing (that you secretly let your child sleep in for 9 months because you swear that sleep experts really don't know shit). Handmedowns.com is a PG, mom-friendly CraigsList, if you will, that I think can help those of you who are looking to either de-clutter your closets, make some money, or even help others in need!

Plus, right now, they're giving away TWO tickets to MILEY CYRUS with a BACKSTAGE PASS!!

Ok, Here's How you Post

1. Go to handmedowns.com and choose SELL
2. List your item, design it with a picture if you want and check out!
3. Someone will contact you via email and the rest is up to you!

Plus, the more times you post, the more times your name is entered
into the sweepstakes (Miley, here you come!)

SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE

Well, if you haven't noticed by now, I've had a face lift.... I know I'm a little young, but it was time. This new look is waaay cuter and frankly, makes my butt look fantastic. Ha. Okay, fine. My butt's still well, butt-y, but I am digging the blog revamp thanks to the Design Girl who did an awesome job.

With a new blog design and my 33 birthday just a few days away, it's only fitting that my driver's license expired and it was time for a renewal (i.e. New Photo baby!) Taking your photo at the DMV can be very stressful. First of all, the people working there hardly tell you to "say cheese" and could give two shits whether you come out looking like you have a fat diseased neck. Second, you step up to the line and because you have no idea when/if they're going to snap the photo (because they're busy talking to their coworkers, and I'm pretty sure not even looking at the colossal size camera they're supposed to be operating), you kind of have to just take your chance and start smiling.... which potentially could result with you looking like Chandler Bing.

Fortunately, thanks to the gods of state identification, my new drivers license happened to turn out pretty good. Though my hair was teetering on the wavy side (i.e. unwashed/unbrushed/unblown), I actually look kind of happy and not like I'm being booked for something I didn't do. While I do agree that driving and eyesight go hand in hand, I must admit, it is a very good thing that no one wants to accurately report or take in to account my actual weight. I mean the weight I claim is probably only a few pounds off from the weight I am, but still... I'm not quite sure why I (we... admit it, you do it too)- why we always lie about our weight when we go for our driver's license. But bottom line, it's nice to know that seven years and 1 baby later, some things, yes, some things can always stay the same.... No matter how you look.... and how you pose...

ALL SMILES

I imagine that in most cities, like Wichita for instance, you'll probably get a "Hello!" or "Well, good morning, Bob!... Good morning, Jan!" as you pass a stranger or neighbor on the street (or farm). But here in LA, it's very hit and miss. Occasionally, there's a "Hey" or a head nod if you're on a hike or doing the Santa Monica Stairs and see the same (gorgeous, out of work actor) person 14 times in a row (Please. Who am I kidding. 7. My max on those effing stairs has been 7. So?)

It's not that I'm cold and aloof. I want to be a sweet citizen... a part of "the community." I just don't notice and am typically the jerk guilty of not looking up or saying hello unless it's time to pay for my grande drip. But today, my inner Kansas must have come out...

After I dropped Baby-Ko off at day care, instead of heading up the block to make a pit stop for said grande drip, I decided to kill two birds with one (cheaper) stone and go to 7-Eleven since I also needed cash from the ATM. For whatever reason, as I waited in line with the 99 Cent breakfast sign next to me, thinking about the ten dollar oatmeal I might have just spent at S-Bucks made me laugh.
I whipped out my new iPhone and took a pic. I know. I'm sooo LA, I thought to myself and smiled to the guy standing behind me.

As I plopped my coffee, bottle of water, and the new InStyle Magazine (hello, Fall Fashion) on the counter, the clerk and I bumped hands.

"Sorry," she said.

"No problem!" I said right back.

"$9.06, please."

I handed her a 10 dollar bill. "I think I have 6 cents" I said (I guess nicely).

"Wow," The Guy behind me says, "We don't get enough like you."

"Huh?"

"You smile at me, you're pleasant to her.... There's not enough people like you in LA."

"Oh, well, uh, thanks..."

"We need more like you."

"Ha. You just caught me on a good day," I said grabbing my stuff.

"Bye," said the clerk. "Have a good one."

"You too," I say to my new 7-Eleven friends. "You too...."

Hmm. They need more like me. Like me. That's so nice....

***

Ten minutes later, I entered Sofya's- the goddess of waxing/torture and all things Russian....

Needless to say, you can say goodbye to the "sweet" hello for this portion of the story....