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Author Archives: Karlita

Bad Mamma Jamma

I am getting really good at racquetball.
I even have the hand blisters to prove it.
I actually won a game today.
I now have a glove and special protective eye wear.
Like a PRO.
I am B.A.D. A.S.S..

PS. Ladyfriends…..GOOD way to meet guys. Not that I am looking…but There are never chicks playing. Only athletic, fairly good-looking albeit extremely sweaty men.  They may have some sort of aggression issues to work out but hey at least they are taking out on the court.

The Scotsman

I hold a flame in my fluttering heart for Sean Connery.   I caught a glimpse of him recently in the movie “The Rock”.  Flanked by gorgeous, young actors he still managed to pull focus completely.  I cannot pinpoint what makes this epic legend so sexy….his charisma? his accent? his black eyebrows?
I can’t smell his pheromones and he could be my dad….or grandfather even. Gross.
But boy, I wouldn’t throw him outta bed for eating crackers. or Biscuits.
Unless he hit me of course.
He has apparently made comments in the press about women who want a smack.
Okay, let’s pretend he never said it and imagine hearing his grisly voice saying, “Have a Nishe Day”.

1999, at age 69, he was voted “Sexiest Man of the Century”.  Enough said.

Look at that chest hair. Its delectable. I want to be blondie.

Ramen Noodles

Ramen Noodles….
How do I love thee?
I love thy 29 cent price,
your luscious slippery pasta,
the powdery Beef flavor adds a punch of deliciousness.
I suffer from saliferous bloating for days after…but still
I yearn for thee.

My BEAU!

Okay, so my Beau brought it to my attention that I often Blog and refer to him as my “beau”.  I personally like the word. Noone really gives it the attention it deserves and it’s under used. Except as a name. Which also strikes my fancy should I be blessed with a child in the next few years- as my Mother prays for every night.

I had my own ideas of what it meant but if you look it up….as he so fastidiously did..the definition is as such:

1. A man with a reputation for fine dress and etiquette; a dandy or a fop.

2. A male lover, or boyfriend.

3. A male escort. 

So for those who don’t know me that well……I MAY hire an escort to help me play raqscketball and build my new website. I MAY hang around a man who is well dressed, has a set of manners Emily Post would be proud of and is a FOP. Which I find hilarious because that word means:

A man who is excessively vain and concerned about his dress, appearance, and manners. 

DING DING DING!!!
Or I MAY have a boyfriend.  I think “male lover” sounds so much more interesting.
From now on I will tell my friends…..
“Sure, I would love to go to the concert tomorrow night. Let me ask my MALE LOVER if he is available.”
OR
“I speak Spanish but not French. My DANDY speaks perfect French”
I am about to start a trend people. Get on board.
    

Athlete?

“That’s Gunna Leave A Mark”

Racketball.
This is what happens when you try and play with the big boys. I got whacked in the nose. Not once, but twice.
By my own serve.
I have decided to embark on some new athletic endeavors lately. The beau introduced me to racketball.
one word? two words? Racket ball? Racketball? Who knows.
It was a lot of fun. Until I got nailed in the schnoz.
I would hit that ball with such force, an amazing shot of course, and relish in the moment until I realized that that very impressive serve was coming right back at me.
It is like you are a mouse in a closed in shoebox that cannot get out and a blue bullet is coming  100 mph straight for your sweet mousy face. Unfortunately my attempts at shielding my face with the racket didn’t work and the rubber bastard got me. I am quite sure this was amusing for the meatheads lifting weights in the gym behind us that could see the entire “match” through the giant glass wall. Especially when I squealed like a skunk trapped in a bear claw in the woods. Whatever, they need to work on their calves before they make fun of me for one measly second.

I recommend this exciting sport to anyone interesting in sweating and re-learning how to master hand eye coordination in a gym rather than on your couch with a controller and the cyber world.
Consequently, I have not been able to move my right arm for the rest of the day. I am typing lefty only. HA. Just kidding.
Anyway, my nose is A Okay thank goodness. But boy did it hurt like a B$%CH!!!

PS> YES I am wearing a t-shirt with ‘Lady and the Tramp’ on it. Shut it.

PPS> Racketball is spelled :

rac·quet·ball

   /ˈrækɪtˌbɔl/ Show Spelled[rak-it-bawl] Show IPA

–noun

a game similar to handball, played on a four-walled court but with a short-handled, strung racket and a larger, somewhat softer ball.
NOT SO SOFT PEOPLE!!!!

The Reality Bash!!!

This past tuesday night I attended The Reality Bash with my bestie and former co-host Miss Chelsea Cannell. We went to support our former “That Morning Show” co-host Mark Long because he was hosting the thing.  Chels and I got all dolled up to hit the red carpet.  I cannot wait to see the video interview we did because it was hilarious. We made no sense and giggled like we were 12 years old and in line for a Bieber concert. Regardless, we couldn’t have been the biggest train wrecks….it was a gathering of Reality show people for crying out loud.
There were a ton of old Big Brother veterans there, some Amazing Racers, RON JEREMY, even Frenchie from Rock of Love and the amazing villainess Angelina from Jersey Shore. 
There were enough sequins and clear heels to fill Vegas and more Blondes than in the country of Sweden. Except these were mostly made of extensions.  I do have to hand it to em tho, those Reality Kids know how to throw a party.
Nice work Mark Long. Check out his bizarre but incredible hotel interview show on nakidreality.com.

Yes, Larry.

So this week I had the opportunity to work on “Curb Your Enthusiasm” as a featured background actor. Basically I did a lot of pantomiming and pretending to eat the gross mashed potatoes they put in front of me that smelled like Gravy Train.   Aside from the stinky carbs the experience was amazing.  I recently started taking an Improv class which I adore and watching Larry David just go off over and over again was a marvel and quite pertinent to what I am being taught by my instructors at Hothouse Improv.  No take was the same.  No laugh was from the same joke, and the laughs were a plenty.
It was tough to keep a straight face when I heard the insults flying so close to me. (I was lucky enough to be put right between Larry and his manager Jeff for many shots throughout the two day shoot.) 
Funkhauser was even there!!!

Boas and Beads and Feathers..OH MY!

There is a little girl who means more to me than I can even express. She is not my niece but I selfishly announce that she is a part of my bloodline…often.  This precious cherub with a sassy mouth just turned 4…. going on 17.  Her birthday was last Sunday. I have never been to anything more fun in my entire life.  About 10 little girls had the opportunity to attend this shin-dig (sp?) at a party hall called “Lollipop Dreams”…plus one really big girl(me).
I think I had more fun that they did.
This place is heaven for princesses in the making. This Italian Princess was in awe. I would really like to have my next bday there….but with Cosmopolitans and Mojito juice boxes and prizes of Hanky Panky thongs to whomever wins a very competitive game of Freeze Dance. 
And I am telling you, my crew of friends will thrown down to win that game.
So…..Lollipop Dreams is basically a magical land of dress up.  Kids have parties there chaperoned by awesome women with an intense amount of patience and enthusiasm and an awesome yet strange choice of 90’s ‘Pump Up The Jam’ dance music. 
There are hundreds of fairytale dresses (and pirate costumes for boys- BOOOOO!) , boas, pearls, fancy hats, gloves etc. etc. etc. The kids get decked and all hell breaks loose.
Karaoke happens, a coloring book break, duck duck goose, this weird sorta game that eerily resembles beer pong, and PIZZA! Yum. 
Of course, I wore my fanciest lace princess dress and an old rhinestone crown from my personal winning collection. I had to get in the spirit, thinking everyone else would as well.
Wishful thinking.
I did not care.
Upon arriving at Lollipop Dreams, I immediately donned a bright electric blue boa but unfortunately one of the cutest little blondes you ever did see (who attends the birthday girls’ ballet class) decided her Ariel mermaid costume needed MY crown. Yeah, cuz mine was the bestest. 
I reluctantly gave it up to the kid. ARGHHH my outfit was so perfect. Then she wrecked it. DRAT!
Whatever, she has good taste. Can’t knock her for that and I must enable her possible future beauty pageant queen urges.
By the way, she traded me my amazing, sparkly tiara for her flimsy, paper crown. Hers was so LAME. I had to wear it for the rest of the party. It’s the one in the photo. Lame.
I had to remind myself that I was an adult. Often.
SOOOOOO….If anyone who knows me feels like secretly throwing me a surprise party…..on MARCH 27 2011 RUN to the Fashion Square Mall in Sherman Oaks with the Boxed wine.
No Ariels allowed.

There is nothing like feeling like a kid again. But loaded.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY  to my sort of niece!!!  You are a breath of fresh air that has come into my world like a Tasmanian devil with chocolate covered fingers.  I am so grateful that we share so many things including a terrific fashion sense and a love of dance- regardless of who is watching.

Be fearless, forever.

Growing up….and growing old.

I attended my best friend’s father’s memorial service last week.  I have never been so blown away with the strength and elegance of someone so young and so clearly heartbroken.  She stood in front of 600 sullen people in that warm glow of the welcoming Episcopal church and made them laugh.  She reminded them of how truly wonderful, giving and brilliant the man whom raised her and touched all of their lives truly was. 
In that moment, she was as brilliant as he.  She didn’t write a thing down….ironic considering her father was an award winning, world-famous, genius scribe.  He would have been so proud- and definitely more impressed by it than anything he had ever put to paper.  It was sentimental, sad, hilarious, sweet, touching, silly, capricious and passionate.
I was supposed to fly to NY the same day to assist my own ailing father just recovering from heart surgery.  Ernesto insisted I stay to be by my bestie’s side.  It was the best decision I have made in years. 
As I approached the church and my friend….she saw me and hugged me.  Not an ordinary hug, a hug I will never ever forget.  She broke down in tears…tears of sadness about the death of her patriarch, tears of nervousness for the speech she was about to attempt to deliver and tears of gratitude that I was there to support her.  I hate to make any of this about me, but it made me feel more important to another human being than I had in a long time. 
That hug has resonated with me for days. It will resonate with me forever.
That day I truly, concretely realized that we never stop growing and never stop learning, whether its about life or relationships. I grew as a woman that day, watching my peer do the hardest thing she has ever had to do in her life.  I grew by learning a bit more about how to be a good friend to someone.
Just being there… is crucial.

The sun will come out…Tomorrow?

Why must we look so scary as we pursue ultimate beauty?
I am officially a REDHEAD.  And really loving it.  It is truly amazing how people treat you differently based on your hair color. 
As a blonde, you get whatever you want.
As a brunette you get respected…………. and ignored.
As a redhead everyone thinks you are unpredictable. 
I am still deciding which treatment I like best.  In the meantime, pray that my hair doesn’t fall out completely from all the chemicals.
Here is a shot of the finished product.  The pic is dumb. Don’t make fun.

Yes, I am a lumberjack.

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