Today I went to the dentist for the first time in over 5 years, not because I thought it was finally time I go, not because my insurance covers it (which it doesn't), but because I got a groupon deal! 50 Bucks for an exam, cleaning, and x-rays.

Turns out the dentist world has some new high tech thing-a-ma-jig that allows a panorama x-ray of your whole mouth. I had to stand in a room by myself with my teeth biting this little nook as this full head scan happened. The girl told me to smile big so she could see all my teeth, which wasn't a problem as I continually laughed at how ridiculous I must have looked.

It wasn't too bad. The good news is my teeth are healthy and strong. Bad news is my back four aka wisdom teeth suck. Turns out I have cavities in just about all of them, mostly because they are so hard to reach. Not my fault! It's totally nature's fault. Also turns out I have to floss more often as I'm in the caution area for gum disease. It seems when your gums bleed from flossing it means you have to do it more. Or so they say...

Part of me hates buying into all these products and procedures that we didn't have for YEARS and wants to trust that nature has a way. The other part of me knows thanks to science we are living way too long and I'd like to avoid having English people teeth (OOOH! Slam!). Plus if nature did have her way I'd be way hairier than needed AND would probably wind up having to do some self dental work like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. Anyone got a pair of ice skates I can borrow?

Another amusing part of the trip was the dentist asking if I was an actress because I have the facial bone structure for it. According to this middle aged, slightly overweight man, I have "a good look." Only in LA do the dentists second as casting directors.

One of the things that stands out in my mind from my trip back home is the fact that my cat, Lucky, who I got in the third grade is STILL alive, but barely, as observed in the picture. She just turned 18 and my family is convinced she will outlive us all. In fact, my brother and I have a theory that she plans to sneak herself into our parents will and steal the house out from under us. She has outlived 3 of our dogs, done the Oprah weight gain, gone blind, mellowed into a lap cat, and most recently she's thinned herself into a Zombie. (She's so topical! - Notice in the picture the lack of weight and inability to keep her head up).

In many ways she's become a tragic metaphor of my childhood; not quite gone, but basically, it's over. She now just walks around in circles, eats, and pees in the fenced off section of the kitchen. Yet she's still as happy as a clam and purrs as soon as you pet her, probably because she knows she's so close to owning the house and when she does she'll pee where ever she wants! She's totally Charlie Sheen "winning!" on us.

I have felt very guilty for not writing, though I fear I have nothing really interesting to say. It's like running into a distant friend at the store. You feel obligated to say hello but you aren't really saying anything.

"How are you?"
"Fine, how are you?"
"Good."

For all you know I'm not good, I'm going through a terrible time but who wants to hear about that? You are always good. The only type of bad news we humans will stomach to hear in passing conversations is that you aren't feeling well. And even then we spin it, "well something is going around." It's not your fault. Although, let's be honest, it probably is.

This is not a passive aggressive way for me to say I'm not dong well. In fact, I'm great. Still enjoying the fruits of my non labor. Got back to my apartment today to deal with unemployment paperwork. Which was confusing so I avoided it for a good half hour. Upon doing some recon on how exactly to fill it out, turns out I have to shade the truth a bit. Especially since I can't elaborate on the form WHY I am not looking for work, so YES I am looking and NO there's no reason I'm not allowed to work. Any hiccups from the standard answers they want = more paperwork and no money. And I needs me some money!

Now see what I did? I didn't think I'd have anything to say and yet here I am rambling on. Though I usually avoid writing too much, it scares away readers. Or at least it can seem overwhelming to me when I'm reading which is why I only really skim or read headlines. Yeah, I'm informed.

"Ugh. Four paragraphs (and a mini convo)?! I'll read it later..."

Well it happened. I went home to Long Island and got sucked into the ability to sleep in, cable, and the most comfortable couch that seems to be made of tryptophan. Not many can resist it's napping powers. I've been here for a week and a half and only got to go outside to do more than get inside a car 3 times. Freakin winter! And I also developed an addiction to dark chocolate and severe case of procrastination. Not great.

There is always the battle of letting myself get lazy by enjoying a little R&R and then feeling lazy from all the R&R. It's what happens when you work all the time and are involved with sport teams and such. I'm more productive when I'm busy. Somehow my brain is better at doing 20 things verses 2. Let's just say the 1 bag I packed for 3 weeks might have been lighter if I just packed the sweatpants. That's all I'm really wearing.

ok I need to gear up for Amy Poehler on Letterman tonight. Priorities. Always priorities.

All libraries should just go ahead and change their names to "Internet Room." The Los Angeles Public Internet Room. It's got a nice ring to it, don't cha think?

And while we're on the subject, sorry Dewey Decimal System, but you are now basically pointless and therefore have given my elementary school "Internet Room" teacher nothing to teach. He's probably been fired. Poor guy. Though he did have an amazing sweep over that was fooling NO ONE.

Sometimes I think there are some aliens just parked outside our reach who watch as we launch some huge rocket that just barely gets us into outerspace. They sit back eating their space popcorn and mockingly comment, "aww, look at how cute they are."

It was my burfday this past weekend. I'm now 27 and have to start doing something with my life soon. Please, God, don't make me be an assistant forever.

Somehow I managed to come back from my snowboarding trip (free for your bday) with more food. Turns out the cabin my co-worker/friend hooked us up with was in use by her mom. Also turns out she likes to feed people and treat us like rock stars. Each room had a mini set up of a coffee maker, selection of teas/coffee, mini shampoos/conditioners, towels, and a little selection of fancy cookies (which I did eat all of). Then the entertainment room had a tray with wine, on ice, with glasses for either Red or White. I mean, really?! I felt like such a celebrity. I was tempted to trash the place and/or throw a phone at a maid.

Right before I left for the trip I got a package from my parents. This was after I told them not to get me anything except maybe a gift card or money (as I'm about to go into hiatus for the TV show I work on). I should have known better. Inside was an untold amount of mini gifts including: Star Wars cookie cutters, Green Tea with Brown Rice tea bags (so good), cookies (yum), PJs, Parks & Recs season 2 (hilars), pitchas of the fam, and perhaps the best gift of all...

Yeah that's right a Betty White Calendar! So far I think March is my fave month:

Does it get any better?! Actually as I say that I think, yeah if she was dressed as a Jedi and rocked a lightsaber. OR she's in a lightsaber fight with Chuck Norris - who by the way wrote an autobiography called "Against All Odds." And yes, it is as poorly written as every Walker Texas Ranger episode I've had the pleasure of viewing on TV Land could be.

So yeah, it's back. From the dead? I hope not. Though I think I am somewhat prepared for a zombie apocalypse, I def can't handle zombie spiders. That's like my nightmare. Seriously.

This morning I awoke and began getting ready. Upon fixing my bed so it wasn't a blatant hot mess, I spied with my little eyes another damn spider! Right by my pillow, SO not cool. This one was the same basic shape but slightly smaller. Makes me think I might have killed her husband and she's out for revenge a la some Lifetime Movie. Either that or it's the child of the one I killed. I image it to be much like Princess Bride, "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die."

GULP.

For the record, I did say sorry before killing the other one. But the worst part is, I ran over to the bathroom to grab a tissue, decided that wasn't enough, and opted for a paper towel under the sink - make that two...Upon returning to the bed, it was gone. Poof!

I moved the bed, pulled back the curtain, carefully checked the surrounding area. Nothing. I wasn't gone that long for it to fully disappear and I know I wasn't hallucinating. Then I spotted a cause for concern. Along the side of the box spring is a quarter sized rip which I never noticed because it faced the wall. Does the spider live INSIDE my bed?! File this thought under "Not Great."

All I know is I hope if it does crawl on me at night I remain asleep and perhaps even accidentally eat it like they say you do. That way I don't have to deal with it when I'm awake. Yet if I sleep eat it I wouldn't know it was really gone and it will probs still haunt my dreams. Either way I'm sure over the course of the next week I'll be waking up in a fit, swatting at my face when anything grazes me.

You win, spider. You win.

This past weekend was pretty damn awesome. You should not be surprised to hear that I'm both a mover AND a shaker. This weekend was no exception. Literally I helped a friend move and then later that night went to a house party WITH a DJ (DJ Tanner?) and danced my pants off. Well not really off but I was definitely "glowing."

Here's the deal. I'm not really into going out to "da clubs" as 50 Cent says, but I used to be a regular at PopStarz with my cousin Nate. He was my gay passport. I like the gay men because they aren't afraid to shake it, they appreciate dumb pop (it's true, I know lyrics to songs I just shouldn't), and when you dance with them you know they aren't trying to sleep with you. It's just nice to enjoy a Madonna song or two with a bunch of dudes.

Now Nate and I haven't gone out in a LONG time and I've been missing it. In a weird girly way I felt like. "I just want to dance!" And so the Universe made it so...

Sidenote: You may be aware, I'm like all into sports and whatnot. It's been said when you are in better shape you start to sweat faster because your body is trying cool down and if you are used to running around for awhile it will start to sweat right away in order to sustain the workout. Also turns out I'm sweatier than normal for a girl (thanks dad!). So the second we took a break from dancing in a hot room full of people to get some air outside I went from glowing to drenched in sweat. Susan Kraus can vouche as she was amazed by this. In her words, "I've never seen that happen to anyone before."

Additionally she was amazed I knew every single lyric to Mariah Carey's "Fantasy." To which I say, how could you not?! Needless to say, it was a night of wonders for her.

Ummm, gross.

The other day when I got home from work I entered my room and immediately spotted a rather large (about 2 inches) spider perched on my curtains right over my bed. Of course you went for the bed. Now for at least a week I'll hesitate before going to sleep. Way to play mind games. You are a worthy adversary.

So this jerk is hanging out in my room, uninvited, and I have to deal with it. As much as it disturbed me I didn't let him leave my sight. I called my roommate for backup. I then took off my shoe, held it firmly in my hand, pulled my bed away from the curtain before standing up on it. I was then eye to eye with my eight legged foe. There was a deep breath and a mini psych up speech involving a third person reference, "C'mon Colleen, man up!"

SLAM! SPLAT! and let's be honest, GIRLY SCREAM!

It was no longer there. Heart racing I checked. There was a crunched up hot mess of a spider on the floor but I wasn't taking any chances. I reached down and squished it some more, mumbling a half-hearted "sorry" under my breath. (This is done in case the spider is re-born into a murderer; I don't want any hard feelings).

Victory was mine! Now I know Indiana Jones didn't like snakes, but I still felt a little bit like him from the whole encounter. Next time I'll have to use a gun.

This evening when my roommate Tina and I were in our kitchen, one of the cats who has been posted about before regarding a certain "poop" incident started to meow at us. Her name is Onyx and despite being adorable and wanting some attention she's harmless. That being said, she also seems to forever be hungry. She will often try to con the two of us into double feeding her but we figured out a system. Take that!

Now her meow is rather quiet, almost like a whisper, but in succession it is very annoying, especially when she INSISTS on being fed. Once you grab her dish, watch out, she goes into double time. I believe she gets all "a tingle" with anticipation.

Today I was lacking the patience to hear it so as Tina filled her bowl I told Onyx to knock it off or I would, "kick your face off."

A cat with no face. I don't doubt my ability to kick it off so I started to think what that would be like. In my mind the facelessness would be a lil something like this:

Face: Off. Blam-o! I'm a fan of this cat because she knows her place. "What's that? You're hungry? See, I can't hear you because your face has been kicked clear off..."

The shame is that despite this rant, I actually enjoy cats. It turns out I just have to raise them in order for them to be awesome.

Recently I've been able to work from home. This has been "baller" as the kids would say. Translation: awesome.

Basically I get to sleep in, wear my PJs all day if I so desire, watch The Wire, and bake a ton of tasty treats from the array of cookbooks I got for Christmas.

Today I made apple cinnamon muffins, mini blueberry/pomegranate/orange scones, AND apple cinnamon granola. I tried to post pictures but the site was being lame times a million and won't let me. Another sign that technology is starting to think for itself, or perhaps it was a glitch in the Matrix?

ANYWAY - It's official, I'm no longer impressed by bakers. Watch out Martha Stewart because I will cut a bitch. After which I'll sit her down to try these wonders and then she'll understand why I did it.

Let me start this off by saying I love Betty White. The past year, so has everyone else, especially her agent. He/she has been "makin' it rain!" - as the kids say. (If you are unfamiliar with said term please refer to The Urban Dictionary online).

While my family was in town we took a stroll along the Walk of Fame in Hollywood. Not surprising that we'd find this:

A comedy legend, whom is the current "go to" for all funny/inappropriate old lady parts in TV and movies. I hope to follow in her footsteps and in many ways, hope she never dies (though not in the Dick Clark kind of way; that ish is getting creepy, stop going on camera!)

Additionally, I took some family over the the lovely Huntington Botanical Gardens in Pasadena. If you live in the LA area and haven't been, you need to go and pretend you are still a student because you will get yourself a discount. This is one of the few times I don't mind looking younger than my actual age. (Also there is a "jungle" section that makes you feel like you are in Jurassic Park, just saying). So we are enjoying the foliage of the Rose Garden section when BAM:

It may be hard to see but beyond my thumbs up is a sign declaring that rose bush "Betty White." Now I'm ALL for her being in the spotlight, but roses? Really?

Betty, thank you for being a friend but this is a little much. Don't get me wrong, I still give the idea of it a thumbs up, but do you need that much money? Are you really planning on living forever? What's your plan? Being frozen? Cloning another body? Funding to discover the fountain of youth? Something involving alien technology? No wait, that last one doesn't make any sense, you wouldn't need a ton of money for that, just government connections.

If it's gambling debts I'll be disappointed but at least I'll understand. Help me understand.

2011: "Hey, Colleen. Happy New Year!"
Me: "Thanks."
2011: "I got you a little something."
Me: "Oh you shouldn't have."
2011: "It's a pretty nasty cold."
Me: "..."

It can only get better!

To digress back to 2010 for a second and the Christmas season, it's important that you are aware the following cookie cutters exist.

Yoda Best!

Storm Troopin'!

Much like adding the red sprinkles, Bounty Huntin' ain't no joke!

And of course, "Luke, I AM delicious..."

I know I've been away, family in town and general laziness. What can I say? Tis the season.

However, I would like to give you all a visual gift from the city of Los Angeles, compliments of my cousin Pat:

Well I don't know about you but my New Year's plans have just been ruined! F the po-lice!

This weekend I watched Troll 2. It's known as one of the best worst movies of all time. So bad, it's great kind of thing.

IT. DID. NOT. DISAPPOINT.

First of all it's called Troll 2 not because it's the sequel to Troll but because another movie named Troll came out and had some kind of mediocre success and the filmmakers wanted to capitalize on that, despite their movie being about GOBLINS (or kids/midgets in bad Halloween masks as seen to the left). You are dealing with genius here.

It's not enough that there are Goblins in this town called Nilbog (Goblin spelled backwards - what!?). And it's not enough that these Goblins do a housing exchange program to get a family to come to their town so they can eat them. Oh no, these Goblins are vegetarians and they make people eat these big puffy green treats while they are disguised as humans with clover shaped birth marks. Once you eat these treats you morph into a plant so they can eat you. AKA have green food dye poured on your head.


Other personal highlights include (SPOILER ALERT):

1. The semi period piece opening of this Robin Hood like fellow being chased by these "Goblins" through the words to 80s movie montage music. Am I supposed to be scared?

2. A corn on the cob makeout scene where popcorn appears and buries the dude so much so that at the end he's covered in it and mumbles, "no more popcorn."


3. At one point the dad gets pissed at his son for not eating the goblin food and basically challenges him to a hunger strike claiming if he wants to go head to head with him he's got another thing coming because he has more experience with hunger pains from growing up and will tighten his belt to deal with the pain. Next morning, they are getting along fine. Bi-polar dad! Yaye!


4. There is a Stonehenge magical stone that wields, you guessed it, the goblins' magical power!

5, This woman's acting:


Deborah Reed is now on my radar.

Needless to say I loved every impossibly bad second of this and highly recommend. In some ways it's very inspiring to know someone wrote this whole thing down, convinced people to "act" in it, got a crew and money together and shot it. If THIS gets made, I actually might have a shot...

L.L. Bean gave me an early Christmas gift today. It's what I've always wanted: An ad for Mom Jeans!

Just $29.99?! You're right I CAN'T beat that price. Mostly because it's priceless. I know it's hard to read but they claim to have three types: Original Fit Relaxed (left), Original Fit Natural (center), and Original Fit Traditional (right). I've looked closely and the only real difference is how the model is half assedly posing.

Though they do explain at the bottom of the page how the Orginial Double L Jeans sits higher on the waist. AND as the bottom right hand side of the page indicates, it's available with reverse flannel, red fleece, AND red plaid flannel - talk about options! But it doesn't stop there, it's also available in a Comfort Waist, which as they say, "features subtle elastic sides for all-day comfort."

Subtle. Right.

Over the weekend something rather peculiar happened to me. On Saturday I played my usual game of Ultimate Frisbee with a bunch of guys who are much taller than me. I get knocked around, but nothing really bad. This Saturday I seemed to somehow have a target on me as people kept accidentally knocking into me. So much so that I began to catch the frisbee and then turn and duck away from the person covering me. I blame most of it on the fact that I'm like a foot shorter than most of the guys so when they run, they don't see me. I'm like a gnome to them.

That's not the peculiar part. I think it's best to break this thing down into time.

1:15pm: Start playing Ultimate frisbee.

2:30pm ish: I deflect a frisbee away from two players, we all fall to the ground un-injured. My hand might have been bumped in the collision but it doesn't hurt.

3:45pm: Ultimate Frisbee is over. I'm sweaty and kinda dirty but otherwise unharmed.

4:00pm: I pick up some stuff from Whole Foods, using my arms. All is well.

4:30pm: I bake some awesome gingerbread/flax muffins.

6:00pm: I watch The Shield and eat some dinner.

8:30pm: David Alex and I go to my friend Jana's birthday party downtown.

9:00pm: We get lost downtown.

9:10pm: We enter Villian's Tavern and I drink some liquored up Hot Chocolate out of a jar.

9:30pm: We mingle with the people. I chat with an already tipsy Jana.

9:45pm: My wrist starts to feel a bit stiff. I stretch it and hold my drink in my left hand instead.

10pm: I can't put my right arm down as the blood rush makes my hand and wrist throb.

10:15pm: I'm unable to successfully shake hands with anyone new I meet and have to give them the left hand which just confuses them further.

10:30pm: I'm convinced my wrist is sprained as I can't open my hand without pain.

10:45pm: I'm not looking forward to the potential ER visit for tomorrow since the only way I can function without pain is holding my arm up over my heart with a closed fist. Uh oh spaghetti-os.

12am: I have to sign for my tab with my left arm which def makes me look like I'm super drunk.

12:30am: I go to bed with a package of frozen peas and hope to God it's all better come morning.


And then....I wake up and can function better but there was still some pain so I go to brunch with my cousin and bring a bag of ice along. Then I watched 127 Hours with some friends and realized a weirdly hurting wrist is much better than having to cut off your arm because you got stuck in a boulder. I mean, it's pretty close to the same thing, but I think that guy wins.

Today I'm just about back to normal. Thank God!

Behold, one of the GREATEST photos of me EVER!


Yeah that's right! I'm going to need you to...

1. Be jealous of the lace bow tie.
2. Envy the bangs.
3. Don't act like you aren't familiar with the laser beams.

If I recall correctly the background choice was always between some grayish color, a bookshelf, and lasers. Hello. Of course I'm picking the lasers. All the cool kids were doing it. You know something JUST like this is proudly being hung in your family living room or den.

Now as much as I LOVE this photo, perspective makes me think, "How did this happen?" There's something mystical that occurs on photo day that makes us all think, "This is a great idea!" The early 90s are partly to blame. Second is really the parents because let's be honest, I'm five years old. I have NO idea what's really going on. Hence, the lasers.

This isn't really a new revelation or anything but I realized the other day that we spend the first half of our lives in school. Then you escape and no longer have papers or tests, you just have a job and bills n' such, but you are still free from the educational shackles. That is, until you have kids and then you have their homework to deal with.

So the average person only has like 10 years or so of non school related activities. Damn kids. Just another reason NOT to have them. Sorry potential child, I will love you one day but right now, I hate math more.

Also kids cost an average of 1 million bucks EACH. WHAT!? No wonder the gays have such nice stuff!