Dave's Thinking
"Chamberlain for three..."
My basketball weekend started out in a somewhat dimly lit Paso Robles gym at 7:45am, the florescent lights flickering at that hour; or perhaps that was my consciousness having only gotten a hour or two of sleep thanks to a stormy night and plenty of nose to the radar work. Since I don't live in Paso, I got up good and early and drove blearily with a meager curl of steam rising out of a small hole in the plastic lid over quickly ordered McDonald's coffee. It was worth it, my son had played off-guard all year but this week got to play point which meant he had the ball every trip down the floor. It was his first game as field general, he made a few mistakes but in general did pretty well. Due to league rules, he had to sit the whole second half because he had played too many quarters this season. I watched his teammates scratch out at 13-7 victory.
Now that he gets the ball more he is more interested in the philosophy of basketball when he is not on the court. At his level there are only a handful of kids who can reliably dribble down the court without the double-dribble or worse yet give up the easy steal to the first kid who sticks a skinny arm in between nervous bounces of the ball to the floor. Ethan gets that part, mostly because I did to him what my Dad did to me: tell him to steal the ball from me when we play. I just turn my hip toward him and don't let him get the ball. Now he'll employ a little of that with me and protects the ball well under pressure.
This weekend he stopped shooting various zombies, paused intervening in various covert military operations and ceased important space related missions and put an NBA game into the XBOX360. At first I thought he was watching the All-Star Game because we had watched the slam dunk competition the night before. But when I entered the room he proudly announced he was playing the Celtics against the Lakers, and he was playing the Celtics. I warned him what a poor choice that was considering I was in charge of his welfare for the next several days. After that he was more interested in how to play the game. I talked him through the basic controls and after allowing for a good amount of practice time agreed to take him on in a game. I said I wanted to play the Lakers but he could play anyone else. I guess I assumed he'd take the Celtics, or an All-Star team but what he chose was the Legends of the 50s-60s.
Right from the get-go I had my hands full. The aging Derrick Fisher couldn't cover Oscar Robertson or Bob Cousy. And George Mikan ate up Pau Gasol down low. I started explaining to Ethan that picking the best players of all time was not entirely fair, he responded that it is really more about how you play the XBOX and less so who is on the floor. Fine, I rolled up my sleeves down 11 and got to work. Kobe was cold as ice on mid-range jumpers and Oscar Robertson played great defense on him. I tried everyone on the bench. Jordan Farmar and Sasha Vujacic couldn't get anything going either (they never did in real-life either, so I am not sure what my expectations were here). So I went to Lamar Odom, he had a step on Wilt Chamberlain and poured in a quick 20 before half. I was still down three.
Second half my shooting woes continued, I went with Kobe on the drive a little more and got a few to drop but I had more success down low with Pau and Lamar. I got lucky that Ethan preferred outside jumpers, and not always by guys suited to take them. George Mikan and Wilt Chamberlain didn't have a 3 point line when they played so their non-earth-tethered-spirits infused into the XBOX avatars must not have been overly easy with the green light to shoot from downtown. A building could have been built with the accumulated bricks. However there was a nice 30-footer Wilt Chamberlain drained. The voice of Clark Kellogg was the analyst, "Chamberlain for 3....Well, I don't know why he shot it from there, but he did and it went in."
I pulled away for a 7 point win. I had other chores to do around the place, and checked back in later on. I dropped the hammer once or twice in our game so Ethan was looking to figure out how to dunk. I had instructed him that it was the trigger button and 'x' when you are close. He expressed his frustrations from around a corner and wanted me to come and take a look. He had the stars of the 80s on the floor and said, "Number 33 can't do anything, he stinks." That was Larry Bird. Ethan had him going trip after trip down the floor trying to break things down off the dribble and driving the paint. Imagine the frustration his avatar must have had from the joystick instructions. Ethan also thought #11 was lacking in from the air traffic control perspective. I had to tell him that Isiah Thomas was not a dunker (nor a general manager). "Well, who is even good on this team Dad?" His five was the aforementioned Bird and Thomas along with Dr. J, Patrick Ewing and Kevin McHale. It is hard to tell a kid just how good these guys were. Ethan was curious who the best player ever was, so I asked him if he had heard of Michael Jordan. And after some YouTube videos I think I convinced him.
Now he wants an XBOX rematch. I have been trying to convince him that regular NBA teams are better to play again each other. The defenses are not like brick walls and you need to employ teamwork. Ethan prefers to battle the titans of all time, he likes the 60s and 70s legend team and is highly confident in a win this time. I said I am fine with the 90s legends and we can virtually lace-em-up whenever he wants. If he didn't know who Jordan was he certainly doesn't know about Magic, Barkley, Olajuwon, Robinson, and Shaq when he was good. Ethan winks at me like he is really sure, I just wink back.
The apartments you see on TV
I have noticed on TV shows that even beat cops with estranged wives and children and a well developed substance abuse problem who come home to a weary apartment really just come home to an apartment designed to give the feel of weary when it really isn't. I don't see any of the trappings of real apartment there, more on that in a second. Also as a preface, the "nicer places" depicted on TV also lack almost everything I trip on yet somehow have thousands of dollars of wall art that is so far down my list of things to get that I think it is somewhere behind "find magic genie".
Specifically, where are things like power strips? Just a cursory glance from where I sit now I can see 2 or three, with the snake like cords leaving them only to terminate in electronic devices that I have deemed necessary however also apparently have no role in television. Where is the Pledge? I have a can six inches to my right, I can see several spray bottles of cleaner in the kitchen. The immaculate apartments of lotharios always have full candles, no speaker cords, no nest of cables connecting TV, stereos or internet. Everything just magically works. If there is a bookshelf it is stocked with a complete array of hardcover books as if a seat on the Supreme Court is only a phone call and pesky confirmation hearing away.
And the shirts, goodness, please will someone call a foul here? I was watching "Fringe" the other day and the character, Peter Bishop, is sitting down for a friendly cup of coffee with a colleague (from another dimension, but that is a much longer story) and he is wearing a button up shirt. No problem, except it is perfectly pressed. I mean perfectly. And you see this all the time in tv and movies. Even if the character is coming out of a coal mine after a double shift, he'll come out smudged for sure but check that collar, it is sure to be crisp.
I love a good pressed shirt, and an apartment free of cords, half-used candles, and water bottles. I am not sure if I can keep up with the standards. I am just as likely to keep up with the standards of the Real Housewives of Orange County.
Now, where is that magic lamp?
Cleaning out the closet using help from very old Sweeds
Ernst Walter Mayr, noted evolutionary biologist (also dead) noted about the organization of classes in biology: "The arrangement of entities in a hierarchical series of nested classes, in which similar or related classes at one hierarchical level are combined comprehensively into more inclusive classes at the next higher level."
So basically it is a tree system of understanding how one thing leads to another. This perfectly explains my garage and closet, the things I found and how they got there.
So let's start with the hierarchical series and nested classes I found.
So we'll call everything "things" which have two sub-divisions the "savable" and "tossable". Let's talk about the "tossable" and it's nested classes of "junk", "total junk", "unexplainable" and "tragic".
Most the objects we are referring about here are clothes. "Junk" clothes do perform the function of covering up body parts that society has deemed necessary to conceal on a regular basis. For instance my 1992 MLB All-Star orange game shirt with an oil stain on it could cover up my chest but likely not contribute an elevation of my standing socially. It is technically wearable, but tossable. Sorry, Bip Roberts and Bob Tewksbury I will never forget you.
"Total junk" is stuff like cords for long since lost electronic paraphernalia that even if you still had you wouldn't be able to match the various power converters and plugs to the proper machines which would certainly not be compatible with any operating system currently running. Other items in my "total crap" pile are promotional fridge magnets for TV shows like The Tick or Hyperion Bay, which was not Mark-Paul Gosselar's best work. These get ejected into the abyss without a moment's pause.
"Unexplainable" items are things like feather boas, leather hats, and bolo ties. These are items I am convinced my alter-ego from an alternative reality has smuggled across a sub-atomic bridge into our universe when I am drawn across to theirs. I can not recall any of this and I don't know what mission my alternate is up to, but it must be insidious and perhaps a threat to national security. Perhaps I have been deep programmed by the government to infiltrate New Mexico truck stops and find out information from locals, hard to say. I am going to throw them. I assume that I will not need them, and if my alternate does he'll just bring more with him from the other side.
Finally, "Tragic" items are clothes that appear to be wearable but really aren't. They fool you because they are somewhat new, full price and on a particular model under ideal lighting conditions almost look fetching when they are not. What is sad is that I don't have an internal radar which detects these items before purchase. My friends long chuckled at the leather jacket I had which made me look like Tom Cruise from "War of the Worlds", sadly it was expensive but kinda Carrot-Top funny and you don't want that. Yes, I have a pair of skinny jeans. There also a stack of clothes I bought at Structure years ago, all well and good if a time-machine pulls me back to the Seinfeld days but otherwise simply silly. I donated the items but I kinda hope no one wears them setting off cultural detection equipment elsewhere.
The classification system is helpful, but some items appear to be hybrids. Like cargo pants, it is possible the government breaks down tomorrow and I will need all those pockets to store various tools and weapons and energy bars I will need as I scramble from place to place in a chaotic existence. I will hang on to Hawaiian shirts and tank tops should I win the lottery and buy an island to live on where I determine the couture with my autocratic rules.
Sleepless II
Every once and a while I get insomnia, and I have had two sleepless (or nearly so) nights in a row. Of course I have had plenty of time to think about the reasons why: trouble in Egypt, mega-storm hits the plains, the prospect of 4 dollar gas, the fear that there is some Vin Desil project in the works. I spend plenty of time thinking, too much time to be certain.
Now when people find out you have insomnia you'll hear an endless string of advice on how to cure it: warm milk, drink less, drink more, read, watch tv, take a bath, work out more but not early in the day, etc. I think the best part of being in an industrialized nation is the fact that every person on every street corner from Ft. Wayne, Indiana to Macon, Georgia understands philosophy, psychology, science and physiology (I have also come to understand they are all also media critics and meteorologists in their part time).
The toughest part is taking advice when you are tired. I can hold my attention for a few minutes at a time when I am gutting out such a bout, however concentration outside of this time frame and simply remembering what someone said is suspect.
"Always...."
no wait, he said.
"Never, no matter what you do..."
When I drove up to my place last night after work I couldn't for the life of me recall what I had eaten, what chores had been done or undone. I was pleasantly surprised to discover I had done the dishes and made the bed prior to my departure, my apartment was not on fire, I had not started a baking project nor pulled out notes for my manifesto. I settled in and began a time honored way of solving insomnia: watching something with the Kardashians on E! I wasn't entirely sleepy after that, so I took in some Daily Show with Jon Stewart and then figured I should be sufficiently exhausted, slightly more enlightened from withing the Daily Show and slightly less enlightened from watching Kourtney and Kim take New York - all things in balance. I crawled into bed and started a battle with the bed like I was on the Maginot Line.
At some point when the sun came up I went for a walk on the beach, the skies might have been clear but my head was in a fog... no one was out on the beach, just local walking dogs and not too many surfers because the waves were mostly on top of each other. I walked a couple miles sipping on a Starbucks and listening to classical music, after that I was able to nap for about 45 minutes and I am living on that 45 minutes right now.
In the global scheme of things I should be able to sleep, I love where I live, I have great friends, and have a great job. I can stumble out my door and amble along the mighty Pacific which has been slapping up against the coast for millions of years. The ocean is not concerned about most things, and I probably shouldn't be either.
Envy, cell-phones, flying cats and the French Revolution
I am very excited to see the face of the UPS driver who is scheduled this morning (or afternoon or sometime) to drop off my new smartphone I ordered, more on that later. You have to wonder what kind of situations these guys have seen, sure I am positive many visits are mundane but how many visits are bleached-faced guys like me stumbling to the door in pjs with a cat in the background doing flips in mid-air like bullet-time in the Matrix? I am sure far more interesting things happen, and often spoofed in less reputable films shot near Burbank starring people who's last names are often nouns relating to objects found in a hardware store. UPS should slide some piece of paper in when these guys start that royalties from any later literary accomplishments featuring road adventures associated with the job go back to them. Currently I even have a winter hat on and my glasses on a 70+ degree day, I look more like Halloween is around the corner than anything else.
Back to the phone, I am getting the Evo 4G to replace the HTC Hero this will clearly make me a much smarter person, more popular and give me the tools to accomplish great feats for humanity that the sluggish HTC Hero wouldn't allow me to do. I assume this do to the marketing associated with new smartphones, and I will be the first to admit I am a sucker to the Madison Avenue types who create 'need' for newer versions of completely function objects we already have. Hey, but this one will play "Angry Birds". See? And I am over it, rationalization and delusion is a wonderful thing.
I was looking forward to today with anticipation since I have regular cell-phone envy of people with the iPhone4 or Galaxy S phones, but then my friend Ryan at work takes me for a spin in his new Nissan Juke, the same car I have been thinking about replacing my generally dull army green Kia Sportage with. With an ear to ear smile he took me to Jack in the Box for dinner last night talking about the long list of super-fabulous features of the hip new ride.
"See, this button here will make you rich, and this one makes you more popular."
"What is this red button?"
"Oh, I think it makes you win the lottery and also operates the security gate at the Kardashian complex."
"Really, geez, I need to get one of these."
It should be noted that I think this trip to Jack in the Box is the source of my internal distress at the moment, but the boys from the lab have not confirmed that yet. Ryan's new car also gave me new car envy. Now I feel like I am five, everything someone else has I currently want. But I think I'll take a stomach which is not staging a French Revolution for starters and I will figure out the rest later.
"Let them eat cake."
Ugh, I don't want cake, time to chew another Pepto chewable...I think the liquid was better.
What is the deal with Vegas anyway?
I don't entirely understand Las Vegas. I get that inhibition and excess is celebrated, and for people who have already won the lottery or have patents on basic elements like the air we breathe or Coke or something like that I get it is a great way to illustrate their command of society...but for little guys like me? I hate spending money, so a journey there for me is like going to a blood bank where they would draw until you pass out. But I think you can now simulate pretty much everything at home, and here is my case for that.
If Las Vegas is about gambling you can certainly do that at home now, I know this because I just hit "stay" on a 5 at a blackjack table on Facebook's Casino City game. It was a mistake, but I felt a lot like Austin Powers from the first movie when he does the same thing and follows it up with the line, 'I also like to live dangerously.' I am not much of a Facebook gamer, but I needed a mindless distraction a few nights ago and kinda fell into this one. Just like the catacombs of a Vegas casino, I got suckered into designing and operating my own virtual casino which lets you play Video Poker, Black Jack and a bunch of other games when you accumulate experience. We'll see how realistic it gets. If I have to drag people into corn fields at some point I'll know I am inside the rabbit hole. (see the movie Casino for reference)
But for now there is my crazy casino, looks harmless enough.
If it is about the thrill of winning big real money, then go and buy a lottery ticket. You probably won't win that either but at least you have a chance however statistically minute. If you are also looking to simulate the experience at home, just rent a hotel room. You also have the same variety from the ones more clearly designed for certain unsavory activities to others for basic sleeping, but as almost everyone tells me about Vegas that it is not about the sleeping.
I would argue the one thing I end up doing more than anything in Las Vegas is walking around, and I think that can also be done here the last time I checked. And just like Vegas a dangerous cab ride is easy enough to engage.
"Excuse me, why do yo wear a blindfold while driving?"
"I know where I am going."
Entertainment? OK, Blue Man Group was pretty cool, but Rita Rudner and Carrot Top? I am guessing that there are clips on YouTube, if you like you can send me 150 dollars per person and I will send you a link to them to also simulate the experience in your bank account of having made the trip. Seems like Carrot Top is on Leno three times a week, I know he is not in reality, but sure seems that way.
Alright, I am clearly not being entirely serious. I actually end up in Vegas fairly often. It is a place where my friends from elsewhere in the country go, and it is easy to meet and visit with them. I actually enjoy going there in summer to sit and sip over-priced drinks by the pool. I like the comedy acts. But I am kinda serious about the gambling, it is just not my thing.
I watched my brother pump fistfuls of money into a Star Trek slot machine the last time I was there, it made very entertaining enterprise (double meaning intended) of harvesting the money complete with video and audio clips and mini-games. I am not a good person to have over your shoulder. The second you win 5 dollars I am advising to cash out. I certainly said this when my brother was up 80 dollars, but the guy next to him seemed to have defied statistics with his streak so there was no stopping. Down 200 I think my brother slipped over to another complicated game with Fonzee brightly illuminated standing over him. "Ahhhhhhheeeee"
I do a lot of wandering around while other people play. I wandered into Mike Tyson on a trip last year, I know that is interesting because of his appearance in Hangover but it was true non-the-less.
I could go on and on about buffet food, hotel rooms sans free internet service, etc.
So, I go there, but I kinda don't get it.
"Excuse me, why do yo wear a blindfold while driving?"
"I know where I am going."
Entertainment? OK, Blue Man Group was pretty cool, but Rita Rudner and Carrot Top? I am guessing that there are clips on YouTube, if you like you can send me 150 dollars per person and I will send you a link to them to also simulate the experience in your bank account of having made the trip. Seems like Carrot Top is on Leno three times a week, I know he is not in reality, but sure seems that way.
Alright, I am clearly not being entirely serious. I actually end up in Vegas fairly often. It is a place where my friends from elsewhere in the country go, and it is easy to meet and visit with them. I actually enjoy going there in summer to sit and sip over-priced drinks by the pool. I like the comedy acts. But I am kinda serious about the gambling, it is just not my thing.
I watched my brother pump fistfuls of money into a Star Trek slot machine the last time I was there, it made very entertaining enterprise (double meaning intended) of harvesting the money complete with video and audio clips and mini-games. I am not a good person to have over your shoulder. The second you win 5 dollars I am advising to cash out. I certainly said this when my brother was up 80 dollars, but the guy next to him seemed to have defied statistics with his streak so there was no stopping. Down 200 I think my brother slipped over to another complicated game with Fonzee brightly illuminated standing over him. "Ahhhhhhheeeee"
I do a lot of wandering around while other people play. I wandered into Mike Tyson on a trip last year, I know that is interesting because of his appearance in Hangover but it was true non-the-less.
I could go on and on about buffet food, hotel rooms sans free internet service, etc.
So, I go there, but I kinda don't get it.
A desperate mission
The journey was well documented by photos and film used to fund the trip. Amazingly, even though the crew ended up eating seals and penguins and even some dogs they brought on the trip for sled teams, they all survived. It was a triumph of leadership, human spirit, determination and the human constitution.
So, as I eat down my dwindling supplies at my home it is far less dramatic but just as necessary to make contact with civilization. I have also documented it.
At some point I must brave the mostly cloudy skies and embark on the 800 yard mission to the Vons. I must leave my cat behind here at the apartment (who shops with a cat, honestly). I shall remember her. The first decision I must make will be shall I cross the void in my car, or attempt the passage on foot? I am sure such a brazen attempt has been made, but it could inhibit my abilities to bring supplies back to my home. Temperatures are in the 50s with a light wind, perhaps a light jacket is in order but should conditions change on my journey to the store only the fates know what my destiny will be.
It might not be like eating the random penguin walking by, but I am down to instant coffee. It is a hardship, and its use slackens the morale. For sustainance I have only decorated sugar cookies my daughter prepared and left behind this weekend, there is a tin of nut topping and some sugar-free carmel and soy sauce.
If this resupply mission in not engaged I shall have to stretch these five cookies until help arrives, being that I have not asked for help this could be a long time. Yes, I must go. This solemn picture is the only one which exists prior to the journey.
I am writing this to you now as a record of my amazing uncharted endeavor as I set forth, unfunded as it may be I do it to show that it can be done. I seek no fame nor fortune in the enterprise just more coffee and perhaps English Muffins and some sandwich meat. I hope to inspire my generation in our age of the internet to remember the age of discovery, or at least the age of grocery shopping.
Vikings draft Hovde, Dodgers thinking about it
The selection of the 40+ year old man comes after the alleged announcement that Brett Favre will no longer play quarterback, a decision sure to be undone in the off-season. Newly minted head coach, Leslie Frazier, is confident Hovde can lead the Vikings, "He'll bring us exactly what Brett Favre did, an injury riddled performance, plenty of interceptions and very little opportunity to win the Super Bowl."
A few sports critics have questioned the decision citing Hovde didn't play football in college. Others have fired back saying he's about a qualified as Joe Webb, a late round pick for Minnesota last year who they wanted to play wide receiver but were forced to use as a signal caller when injuries mounted.
Frazier stood by his decision in a press conference today, "We did our due diligence here. You media guys who question this didn't see his performances at Roosevelt Park in high school during pick-up two-hand-touch games. There was one game he threw 7 touchdowns, ran another 3 in, returned 2 more punts for touchdowns and had four interceptions. This guy was unstoppable that day. We aren't even going to be asking him to play defense. If we get a tenth of that potential in a Vikings uniform you'll all eat your words. He played quarterback with no offensive line, just like the one we have, he only had the 3-banana count before he had to make decisions, we can give him that here."
I should be noted that Hovde is also expected to get picked up by the Dodgers in the off season to play third base. New skipper Don Mattingly has also had to deal with critical sports writers about the alleged deal who also site the fact that Hovde has never played professional baseball. "Look you guys," Mattingly told a surly group of sports writers, "this one time in high school he went 6 for 6, drove in 13 and pitched a complete game, granted against his friends at a park in dim sunlight, but he was awesome. You don't let potential talent like this get away. That and Casey Blake hit .230 last year, could it be worse?"
Charter rescue jet
First thing is first, get out to the garage or closet and pull out the puffy and gaudy ski coat, gloves, and hat but also get a colorful shirt and your board shorts. I am chartering a flight to Fargo, North Dakota and you are coming with. We are going to rescue my friends there and then take them to Maui for a while. It was -16 last night and it'll be months before you can stow the snowpants up there.
How are we doing this? We are using my new found imaginary lottery winnings. I took the lump sum payout, and despite the pleas from my brother who I hired as my financial manager I thought a mercy mission would make a lot of people feel better. Of course we can't take everyone, so I devised a complicated system. I hand picked a core group of people, then used a second lottery system to selected both California people and people from the plains to fill the jet. My pilot tells me we might as well since we'll use the same amount of gas anyhow.
Wouldn't that be fun? Well, it was one of the many ideas that passed through my mind prior to 8:45pm last night. I procrastinated and didn't get a ticket until inside the last hour, but I had to. It would have absolutely bugged me to no end if the winning ticket was sold at the AM/PM a mile from the station and I just didn't bother to go. The rational person who understands probability knows this is a ludicrous notion, but the mildly anxiety filled dreamer insists a five dollar draw to dream is absolutely worth it.
I remember the dead of winter up in the plains. I had a snow blower and remember getting up early (in the dark.. I think there is 3 hours of daylight up there, or felt like it) to tunnel a route for our cars to get out and pretend to do commerce for 8 hours before crawling back into our carefully insulated homes to stare out the window and wonder if you have to crank the noisy frozen precip tosser again the next morning. I recall suffering the psychological effects of limited daylight. I knew I was not a vampire as I appeared in mirrors, but my skin did glisten and shimmer like a character from the Twilight movies as I had not seen the sun in so long. I didn't desire blood, but an IV infusion of hot chocolate was often necessary after plugging in my car. No, not electric car..but the block heater on a car to allow the fluids in the motor to stay fluids and not expand while freezing making the car impossible to start or worse yet crack the block. You get used to it after years, but after recently reading Facebook posts I know a humanitarian mission is in order.
Sadly, I didn't actually win the lottery again. And judging my the fact an asteroid has not made impact with my apartment, the Vikings have not won the Super Bowl and the core of the planet has not frozen it'll be a while before it happens. But I think my heart is in the right place.
Handlers
I could do with a few people at by beck and call all stooped over checking e-mails on their Blackberrys and taking my phone calls, or simply just managing the beehive of activity around me. Perhaps they could even find me a few seconds here for thoughtful meditation or bring me over a Starbucks 'Red-Eye' just the way I like it with four-pumps of sugar free vanilla, and nothing other than that.
Recently I find myself at a chaotic pace but only seem to be covering the bases, not strategically planning my diabolical takeover of American pop-culture. It is hard to be the next Andy Warhol when you are struggling to clean spilled M&Ms out of the tiny fissures they slip into inside your car seconds after a 9-year-old opens them. Somehow I doubt Bono is gathering up quarters for the laundry in his apartment complex hoping the woman downstairs and across the lot hasn't occupied every machine, I suspect she has a telescope and listening device to thwart my efforts to have properly laundered delicates.
Depending on what show you watch, you don't get much of a feeling for just how many people are in any celebrity's entourage or employment. Specifically in "Keeping up with the Kardashians", it is very difficult to tell unless you watch quite a few episodes then you can tell. At one point you see that Khloe Kardashian is doing the dishes and picking up this and that, but a few hours later at lunch with her sisters is talking about how to use her publicist. One episode Kim Kardashian is depressed and her condo looks messy and she honestly appeared lonely, but a few episodes later there are literally two younger ladies over just helping her pick out clothes. She has a manager (her mother), and an assistant manager and who knows how many others. I count at least 5. I think 5 people handling little things might allow me to talk to my loved ones more often and make me a more interesting celebrity...but at this point if a camera crew where here they would only see me writing this blog in my pjs with a chat box open with my girlfriend and my cat at my feet purring away wondering when I will put the laptop down and get back to the business of paying her more attention.
My schedule is now to the point I am even putting basic 'to do' stuff on a Google calendar so e-mail get spit out and pop-ups flash on my phone just so I am where I need to be when I need to be there. Ah, I see one just came in a second ago. It says, 'Inhale.' Oh, wait, another one. It says, 'Exhale'.
