August 2007

I hate Spiders. They are gross and freaky and run really quickly on those little spindly legs! I doubt you can name anything more terrifying than a spider charging at you. Set on fire and buried alive? POPPYCOCK. Spiders are simply, the worst. Spiders and Scorpions. Mostly spiders though.

Which is why my recent 48 hour standoff with a spider the size of (i’m looking around my room for objects to compare it to) a 25ml jar of hair goo (“for separation and shine”) was so terrifying.

I am staying at a friend’s house, so when I first saw Le Spidre (as my nemesis shall thus be called) I tried to keep my screams silent and my wits about me. I decided to do him in all by myself. I am a 25 year old woman of the world. So I picked up my giant boot and hurled it at him. I underestimated Le Spidre, as he nimbly dodged my boot (which is like the human equivalent of dodging a huge truck being thrown at you) and scurried…under my bed!! NOOOO. I searched for him, but couldn’t find him! Where the devil had he gone? I was freaked out.

My friend had already gone to sleep. I could not wake her. Quaking with the fear that Le Spidre would kill me in the night (or at least crawl on my face) I donned sweats and my slippers, making sure the hood was pulled taut, like Kenny on “South Park” before climbing into bed and burying myself beneath the duvet. About 15 minutes later as I began to sweat and my oxygen supply dwindled, I knew this would not be a good nights sleep. I woke the next morning groggy and disoriented.

I told my friend, a veterinary student, about the Le Spidre sighting. “We get big spiders here in Edinburgh” (oh, hi, yeah, I’m in Scotland right now) “If he comes back I’ll trap him and take him outside”

I told her I feared that Le Spidre could only be destroyed by throwing him into the fires of Mount Doom.

We searched my room thoroughly, even tossing the contents of my suitcase to make sure he hadn’t set up camp amongst my socks. No luck. Where was he? Had it all been a dream?

The next night I prepared for bed when Le Spidre showed himself again. “KRISTEN!!!” I screamed for my friend, all thoughts of pride gone. She hurried down as Le Spidre again hurried under my bed!

We searched again, as I pleaded that I was in fact, not insane, that a huge spider was dicking around with me, and most likely enjoying it. We couldn’t find him. Again I slept poorly.

In the morning I saw a tiny blur near the door. Le Spidre! He lay in wait for me. I opened the door, thinking maybe he just wanted to leave my room as badly as I wanted him gone. He did not budge. I tried reasoning with him. No luck. I heard Kristen rumble about upstairs and called out sweetly to her. “Good Morning!”

“Good Morning!”

“How are you?”

“Good, how are you?”

“I’ll be better when you come murder this GIANT spider in my room pllllleease!!”

She laughed, like the good-natured angel she is and came downstairs with a cup for Le Spidre’s capture. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

“JESUS. He is huge. I haven’t seen one that big here before” she said.

I whimpered something about having told her so.

Like a good future vet, Kristen captured Le Spidre and released him back into the streets of Edinburgh, where I know he lurks in wait for me. I know you’re out there Le Spidre, and if you happen across me again, I shall not be as merciful as Kristen was.


I have some advice for young women in the UK. Now, obviously, this advice doesn’t apply to EVERYONE, but I’ve been seeing some things that need addressing. Mostly….


Good God you all look like racoons! How can your eyes be beautiful if they can’t be seen under miles of dark coal!!  Nothing highlights the crazy look in your eyes like gobs of eyeliner and mascara. Tone down your obvious insanity.



Seriously. When they’re bigger than your head, something is wrong.


Just look at this photo (of UK celebrity “Jordan”) and do the opposite, women of Britain. Please? How about a little less

And a little bit more

There now. Look at Keira. Isn’t that better?

Greetings from my new home everyone….England! (for those not up on my life, I live here now. Woot) I’ve been here less than a week, but I’ve already had many adventures. I’ve discovered a few things:


I mean, holy crap, they are so good. Concentrated bread and sugar.  Good times.

2. The television is amazing. (for those of you saying “all she’s done is eat and watch tv?” first of all GO FUCK YOURSELF because I’m hanging out with my 8 months pregnant friend and she’s not exactly up for hours of aerobic exercise) Anyway, since I can’t move into my place for another month, I’m relying on the kindness and couches of friends, so I’m just enjoying the company of friends I never get to see anyway. Lots of food and tv and talking and exploring!!! But to be more specific, the best shows are BIG BROTHER 8 because it is trash-licious and you get involved and really invested right away. After one episode I knew all the housemates names and what the drama was. I’ve also ingested the entire 3rd season of Dr. Who, with the brilliant David Tennant as the Doctor. This dude is RSC legit. It’s AWESOME. The episodes are soooo incredible and I’ve been watching them pretty obsessively. I mean, look how cute he is:

It’s the glasses.

In my personal life, I’ve also hiked a dyke (a geographical dyke, for those of you with the minds of children) sampled real British ale, chased after a bus with a pregnant woman in tow, and re-established the feudal system. All in a day’s work.

How do you sleep? When you’re alone? When it’s really hot or cold? Do you even notice, because, hey, you’re asleep?


I have two distinct sleeping styles, which I call “Superman” and “The Burrito.”

Superman is reserved for hot weather, when all you want is to spread out and be alone and let your body absorb as much cool air as possible. It’s like you’re flying, spread out, with one leg curled under, and one arm shooting outward, like so:

Just imagine that on a bed. That is my Superman sleeping style.

When the cold months come, and all you want to do is be cozy, that’s when I become my alter-ego, The Burrito, known for stealing all of the blankets and rolling myself up in them so that they cannot be shared with anyone else. This makes me less fun to sleep with in the winter because I don’t give a damn (subconsciously, of course) if your ass freezes to death. Because I have taken all the blankets, and wrapped myself up in them. In fact, on more than one occaison, I have needed help in the morning coming out of my burrito cocoon. Viva le Burrito!

Imagine everything good and fun and awesome in the world. Now imagine it tweaked out on speedballs, set on fire, and placed in the ginormous San Diego convention center. And there you have Comic Con 2007. My brother wisely compared it to “walking into a sugar high.” There are thousands upon thousands of people, some in incredibly elaborate costumes (others looked like maybe they had been sewn together by mothers with no patience) all excited to be there.

There are booths and exhibits and displays all over the convention floor. Transformer, GI Joe, He-Man, Spiderman, Superman, Heroes, Iron Man (eeek) you name it, it’s there. Toys, art, books, movie memorabilia. It’s so amazing. It really just turns your brains to scrambled eggs. Or scrapple.

The one part that really through me for a loop (besides seeing Pee Wee Herman and David Arquette standing side by side) was seeing a real one-legged woman dressed up as Rose McGowan’s character from the movie Grindhouse. I also saw Michael Madsen from Kill Bill. But I missed Robert Downey Jr.

Needless to say, my freak flag is flying high!! My dorkdom is in full swing!! And oh yes, I’ll be back next year.

Oh Bobby Brown. Foolish foolish Bobby. From

“R&B star Bobby Brown is still convinced Osama Bin Laden wants him dead so he can marry Whitney Houston – 11 months after the singers officially separated. Brown’s 14-year marriage to Houston came to an end when their divorce was finalised earlier this year, but the hitmaker remains adamant he is on the al Qaeda leader’s hitlist. He even hired extra security to guard him on his recent tour of Australia. He tells the New York Daily News, “I figure if Bin Laden wants me, and everybody is looking for him, it probably won’t happen. But if he wants to try and find me for something so stupid, he can do what he wants. I have to leave it in the hands of my higher power. Come on, if anybody (else was) threatened by Al Qaeda, they’d take it seriously.”

Please. If Osama Bin Laden was really plotting to murder a famous person, he’d kill someone with a hotter, less CRAZY, CRACK-ADDLED wife. Just a shot in the dark. I mean, maybe Osama wants to get his hands on my collection of blue glass bottles. I better get higher security protection. I know how he loves blue glass.

Before I regale you with tales of my adventures out west, let me just rattle off the list of D-List celebrities we saw out there. We saw no good celebs. No Jack Nicholson. No Judi Dench. Nada. No one leaving any kind of lasting impact on the artistic world. Ok, well maybe Sajak will….

1. Chili from TLC. (Google says her real name is “Rozonda” and now I understand why she goes by the name of a ground meat dish instead. Rozonda?) We saw her on the flight from Atlanta to LAX. While it’s always neat to see one third of a dissolved R&B girl supergroup, all I could think was “Has Chili fallen on such hard times that she must fly AirTran with the rest of us mere mortals?” Then I got distracted by the fat boy who was playing with a paddle ball and hit himself in the face. That was funny.

2. Pat Sajak, host of “Wheel of Fortune” in Santa Monica. I was pretty stoked to see Sajak, probably because I was prepared for him to quiz me. But no, he just walked by quietly with his entourage. His entourage of guys who ALL LOOKED JUST LIKE HIM!! I decided that Pat Sajak has surrounded himself with decoys (very clever) in case there is an attempt on his life, so maybe they’ll shiv the wrong guy. His last words? “I’d like to solve the puzzle.”

3. Some soap star named Darren Brooks. We saw him on the NBC Studio Tour. He was boring and unattractive, and we had to go look him up on the internet. He wouldn’t stop walking by our tour, almost prompting me to say, “I don’t know you, go away, and you are also freakishly tan. Freakshow.” But I did not. Boring boring boring.

4. NOT Joey Lawrence!! His little brother Matthew! The awkward son from “Mrs. Doubtfire”. That’s about all I got. And about all he’s got too. We saw him when we were out to dinner in Hollywood. He frightens me. He also had one of those T-Shirts he had drawn himself, leading me to believe he either thinks himself to be tragically hip, or he just came from a 10 year old girl’s birthday party.

5. Jasmine Guy from “A Different World.” Whenever I say her name, people just get that quizzical look on their face and smile politely. I guess that says it all, huh.

6. Paul Reubens (PEE-WEE HERMAN!) and David Arquette (ONE OF THE ARQUETTES!) at Comic Con. I guess they did a film together? Who cares! Pee Wee!! Peeee Weeeee!! The guy who used to have a talking couch and the guy who tricked Courtney Cox into marrying him. Two very clever fellows indeed.