Words of Wisdom

Earlier tonight, I was having a mini breakdown at work due to something seemingly insignificant.  Our gelato order had just come in and did not include a few of our most popular flavors.  I was ranting about how we're going to get so much shit from all of the LA moms for not having Dairy Free Chocolate in the case all week when my coworker stopped me and said, "Brittne - why do you care?  This is not your problem."

That stopped me in my tracks.  Now, I think we all know by now that I enjoy a bit of complaining from time to time.  (Time to time = most of the minutes in a day.)  I get worked up over most anything; I sweat the small stuff, as they say.  Being out here has helped me to be a bit calmer - maybe 24%, by my estimation.  But I'm still the Steven Seagal: Lawman of Making Things My Problem.  So hearing this brought me back to a weird place in my own head.  Why was I complaining?  I didn't place the gelato order.  All I have to do is scoop and smile.  I feel like I need to adopt the saying, "This is not your problem" into more situations.

While admittedly given to me by a laid back surfer dude, it's a really good slice of wisdom pie to munch on, especially in work-like situations.  (I mean, unless it IS your problem, in which case, you should probably make it right.  Don't be that guy.)  Someone's not listening to me?  My shit's done - not my problem that yours isn't finished.  Coworker late to work, thereby making me anxious that I'm about to watch them get yelled at?  (Watching people get yelled at is on my top 10 list of most uncomfortable situations, guys.)  Not my problem - I'll find something to do so I won't have to watch.  We're out of bagels for the day?  Not my problem - how about a nice scone instead?  Boss walks in while coworkers are standing around talking?  Not my problem - I'm on my hands and knees, scrubbing out the fridge, thankyouverymuch.  Ooh, this could be refreshing.  Doubt it'll stick, though.  Damn surfers and their carefree attitudes.


Celebrity Sightings of The Week!


1. Sam Anderson (aka Bernard from LOST):  If you remember, Sam is the very first celebrity I saw in Los Angeles at my local Starbucks last fall.  I didn't have the guts to talk to him then, and I still don't, but I can sure serve the hell out of some gelato when he comes in.  (PS, this is now the fourth time I've seen him, you guys.)

        Bernard, were you ok when the island was all shaking and falling into the ocean?


2. Thomas Everett Scott (That Thing You Do!, Dead Man on Campus):  Nothing too exciting to report with this one.  I gasped quietly when I saw him, because I used to think he was beyond cute.  (I might still think he's beyond cute.)  He was very polite.  And cute.

                             Waaay cuter IRL.  And a tad gay-er.


3. Eddie Jemison (from Waitress and Hung):  SUCH a nice guy - has the two cutest kids on the planet.  He always makes time to ask us questions about our day or find out more about us.  The other day, some fan asked him about Hung, and he graciously gave them some info.  ADDED BONUS:  His kids aren't assholes.

                                   This is one awkward yet charming bastard.


4. Holland Roden (aka: younger version of John Locke's mom in LOST):  Ok, I know that literally 0.001% of you will even get this reference, but I wanted to remind you of how ridiculous I am.  This girl comes in a lot.  I've always thought she looked familiar, but never connected the dots.  After she left last week, I let out some sort of squeal and ran to get my phone.  I googled "Emily Locke" and tried to find out the actress' name who played the younger version.  In one episode of LOST.  I found it, and looked up her picture, but none of them looked like the character I remembered.  I was understandably distraught over possibly getting a celebrity sighting wrong, until my coworker remembered that the girl had paid with a credit card.  My coworker went over to the register to get the receipt.

Coworker:  "Uhh...what did you say her name was?"
Me:  "Holland Roden?"
Coworker:  "You are ridiculous."

Win.

                            She'll always be Emily Locke to me.


5. Taye Diggs (no description should be needed, unless you are named Martha Pace):  As I said on facebook, my cousin and I were walking around my neighborhood when she almost collided with a handsome black man.  Said black man was out with his famous wife and adorable child.  My cousin ran into him so hard, they almost open mouth kissed.  Here is that man:

                      Idina Menzel is being fierce.  Taye Diggs is looking in to your soul.


6. Jon Cryer:  Oh, did I forget to tell you guys?  His wife comes in all the time.  This was the first time I saw him there with her.  I really wanted to work "winning" or "tiger blood" into our transaction, but I didn't want a bajillionaire to give me bitch face.

                             Say "hey" to Ashton for me, k?


7. Jared Padalecki (from House of Wax and Supernatural):  Saw this one out at my favorite local bar.  He's very loud and likes the ladies a lot, bless his heart.  I was sort of impressed, as a fan of House of Wax - especially the scene (SPOILER ALERT!!) where he gets his Achilles tendon cut in a dark room.  Love that shit.

Unfortunately, I was way more jealous when my friend returned to the the same bar a few days later, sans me, and saw Penn Badgley from Gossip Girl.  Ugh.

                          You're cute, but you're no Dan Humphrey.

Irrational Fears

So I just wrote about this on facebook, but it got me thinking, so allow me to elaborate.  I just went outside on the patio attached to my room to have my last cigarette of the night.  I live on a really busy street, but at 3am, it's pretty quiet.  There's this huge white van parked right outside my bedroom.  Bigger than your average rape van, but with blackened windows.  I paid it no mind, and lit my smoke.  I had my laptop on my lap, so obviously my face was illuminated (as was, I assume, my cleavage).  30 seconds after I lit up, I heard the sound of the side door of the van opening.  I looked up, startled, to see a hand emerge and pour a liquid on the ground.  The interior of the van was pitch black except for a green blinking light.  The door closed.  I sat there, frozen.  Immediately, ridiculous thoughts began racing through my mind.  Cops on a stakeout?  Stalker bugging someone's apartment?  Sniper?  Creepy hippie who is watching my tv through my sliding glass door?  Pervy old man who was minding his own business until he saw a girl with big boobs come out on to her patio to smoke, so now he's contemplating hopping over my patio wall when my lights go out?  (I'm ready for bed, but have yet to turn my light off for that reason.)  These are things that I seriously think on a regular basis, you guys.  Any time anything remotely odd happens, I nod to myself and think, "Yep.  Home invasion time, Brit."

I've done this for years, and it can be both annoying and amusing.  Some of my fears are so irrational that I have to laugh at myself.  Just earlier, I had myself convinced that I would die because the eggs I cooked at work seemed a bit runny, and I've heard that raw eggs are bad for you.  I didn't even finish them.  So dumb, you guys.  I lay in bed several times a week and plan out exactly what I would do if someone was looking in my patio door at me.  (Freeze, pull the covers over my head, yell for BRO.)  Most of the scenarios I make up for myself involve some version of me freezing.  I mean, isn't that what you do when you hear a weird creak in your house at night?  I'm not an investigator.  I'm a hider.

The day "The Rapture" was supposedly upon us, BRO was having a bit of fun with me by asking me what I would do in various scenarios.  My answer every time, without fail, was, "sit in a corner and cry."  I'm just no good to anyone.  I'd like to think that I'd rise to the occasion if a Japan style earthquake were to hit LA, but mostly I think I'd just scream and cry and clutch my dog.

On a daily basis, I have at least 4 psychosomatic near-death experiences.  At a gas station?  Don't breathe too deeply, or you'll inhale too many fumes and die.  Working out?  You're breathing too hard, you're probably going to have a heart attack at any moment.  My brother driving me to work?  He's not paying attention and we're about to crash into that pole/car/old man.  Bringing the furniture inside after the cafe closes?  Some hoodlum is about to approach you and demand money before shooting you in the face.  This is my life.

I know I'm not the only one this happens to.  Last year, I was driving to NYC with a friend and it came up that I don't like being stopped under highway over-passes because I'm terrified that they'll collapse at that exact moment.  Her fear was even more irrational - she doesn't like being stopped just after the over-pass because she's terrified that a car will come careening over the edge and land on top of her car.  I had to laugh at that, but I secretly understood.  After all, I'm the kind of person who firmly believes that I have a blood clot in my leg at least once a week, for no other reason than they scare the shit out of me.

So now I have to try to go to sleep, knowing that there's some random person doing God knows what in a creepy van 50 feet away from my bed.  Thankfully, George barks at his own shadow, so at least I'll have some warning before I retreat, crying, to my corner.