Okay Internet friends. I need your help.
Earlier this week, I took home an orchid from the After the Final Rose set. (Perk of the gig).
But now I just don’t know what to do with it. I put it near the window, gave it a little water, and just kind of pretend it’s not going to die. Sometimes I start singing, “To hell with stares…It’s just me (and me) (and me)…..” But I realize exotic flowers probably need more from me than an off-key rendition of Britney and Madonna. So demanding.
So what do I do? Sunlight? (Keep in mind, I don’t get direct sun). Water? How often? I briefly looked online, but orchid-affectionado sites are a wee out of my league. Those people take their flora and fauna serrrious.
Also, be sure to keep an eye out for my flower come finale night, to the right of Ashley’s head, I believe.
Full disclosure? Yesterday I was hungover. And tired. And hungover. Screw you Jennifer Nettles.
But this isn’t about her or the Sugarland concert on Tuesday. This is about me and my awkwardness.
So there I was at lunch, sitting at a table outside on the studio lot, by myself. And a group of people from the table next to me were in the process of clearing their plates. They had to walk passed me to get to the trash, and I was basically just trying to keep it together, so I didn’t really pay much attention to any of them. Until the lone straggler was left, and I thought to myself, “That’s one, tiny, very blond woman.” And then it hit me. And I had about .25 seconds to decide if I was going to say anything. And I blame that last
several tequila shot s, because I had what can only be described as an almost tourettic reaction. I blurted out, “I’m a REALLY big fan!”
And Miss Kristin Chenoweth herself stopped, smiled, and touched my shoulder. She very sweetly replied, “Oh thank you so much. You’re so sweet.” And then I got awkward. I don’t think I anticipated that she would actually stop and chat. And I don’t really get starstruck, but I really, genuinely couldn’t think of anything to say.
All that came was, I kid you not, “You know, Wicked and the whole thing.”
THE WHOLE THING?! What is the WHOLE THING?! What does that even mean? I could have gone with, “I’ve followed your career for a long time, I think you are immensely talented.” OR “I read your autobiography, I laughed every minute.” OR “I’ve seen the pilot for Good Christian Bitches, I think it will be a hit.” OR “I was lucky enough to watch some of the dailies as they came in last spring, and I love how different you do it in every take.” But no. No. Why say anything remotely comprehensible? I truly went with, “Wicked, and the whole thing.”
In all fairness, she was very polite and said, “I got so lucky with that show! Thanks again.” And then she walked away.
And I sat there and wondered if she smelled the booze. At least then maybe she got it. Yes, that’s it. I hope KChen knew I was hungover, and therefore I really shouldn’t be held responsible for mumbling inane sentences at 1pm on a Wednesday afternoon. I may say this a lot. But I’m really never drinking again. On weeknights. Or Tuesdays. Okay fine maybe just Tues-DAYS. Tues-nights are fair game, in my opinion.
It occurred to me today, my life is kind of like a reverse, “IT GETS BETTER” campaign.
For all intents and purposes, I’m single.
I’m going to a country concert tonight. With my parents. And my quasi-lesbian best friend.
I also have to wear ear plugs because I have permanent hearing loss from Las Vegas.
Oh, and, I’ve had to walk around with a super cool ice coffee cup today. The ice melted together before i had a chance to put the straw in. Damn top would screw on. Classy, and not at all messy.
Yep, that’s right. It gets better, kids. It really does. (Okay, in all seriousness, I’m going to the Sugarland concert, and Sara Bareilles is opening. I don’t quite think it will be as epic as last year’s concert, but I’m still pretty psyched).
There are two things I love about Tuesdays. (The fact that it’s not Monday is a given).
1. Law and Order SVU marathons. Yes I have a TV at my desk, and yes I’m totally “keeping up with popular culture” from 2003 while I’m at work. What? Don’t judge.
2. It’s guess the PEOPLE cover day! Only the best game ever.
So what’s it gonna be kids? My guess:
If Posh gave them a super exclusive, I might go baby Harper. But I just don’t think they are going to go full cover. Def a small photo. Maybe a little Casey-Anthony-Where-Is-She-Now piece. Maybe some Nick Lachey and the Jessica rebound wedding? Depends on the deal worked out with TLC, though. I don’t think enough People readers care about Rupert Murdoch, but ya just never know. JLO and that scary skinny guy FTW. What’s your guess?