Author Archives: Kristin

About Kristin

Recent transplant to the Northwest. I didn't escape the sadness.

More Reasons to Keep My Damn Mouth Shut

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I spent a long, long day at Bumbershoot, Seattle’s excellent arts, comedy and music festival, where we saw many, many excellent bands.  My friend EZ and I had decided to see the guys from Human Giant as our comedy selection, but it turned out David Cross was a surprise addition to the comedy lineup. David Cross rules, so we got passes for the show. David Cross, in case you were unaware of this, is dating Amber Tamblyn, who recently was in that movie about magical pants.

Walking across one of the lawns toward to Intiman Theatre, I joked to EZ, “Hey, maybe we will see Amber Tamblyn.”

“Yeah,” said EZ, “We can tell her how much we loved her pants movie. Or we can just be rude and yell PANTS at her.” We had a good laugh. Why would Amber Tamblyn take time off from her busy pants-promoting schedule to come to lil’ ol’ Seattle?

We get settled in our seats and guess who sits directly behind us in the tiny theater.

Yeah.  Amber Tamblyn.

Obviously, I am awesome!  What I say happens!  I am like God and all the infinite possibilities of the world are open to me!

So what do you think happened later when, sitting on the lawn watching the patently awful Saul Williams, I flinched as a seagull flew too low?

“Why are you so scared of them?”  EZ asked.

“I’m afraid one will shit on me,” I explained.

Two seconds later, I had a big ol’ bird shit on the leg of my jeans.

Sigh.

Old News, but still Sad!

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So I meant to post this when this was a relevant story to current events, but forgot until just now.

When I was but a wee thing (21), I decided it might be fun to live in Los Angeles for a year. I had no dreams of stardom (too fat, too smart, too pale), but I thought maybe just a little glimmer of celebrity would rub off on lil’ ol’ me. Just once.

And then it happened.  Lil’ ol’ me was going to have her brush with fame.

Stage-managing for a friend at a benefit comedy show in Hollywood I was told I would get to personally host a Famous Person ™, show them to their seats and generally take care of this person’s needs and wishes. 30 minutes prior to the house opening, I got word over my headset that the Famous Person ™ was here, and I was to go out and help the Famous Person ™ to their seat (apparently Famous People ™ cannot find their own seats in a 50-seat black box theater)

As I was about to enter the front of house to triumphantly display my mad skillz at leading Famous People ™ to their seats, I was pulled aside by my friend, the comedienne who was hosting the show.

“So, um, you’re helping us out with him, right?” she asked nervously. I still was unclear who “he” was, aside from a Famous Person ™. “Yeah,” I said. “Not a problem. I’m good at…leading people.”

“Well,” she paused then, and suddenly I felt a fear deep within me, “You just need to watch him. I mean, so that he doesn’t do anything…weird. And don’t, under any circumstances, let him go to the bathroom. Things…happen…when he goes to the bathroom too much,” she said. Not putting two and two together, I was forced to endure my friend miming snorting coke off a toilet seat before I realized what she was talking about.

“Okay,” I said. “No bathroom breaks.”

Then she laughed. “Congrats. You’re my new Andy Dick Wrangler.” She laughed again. Harder this time.

And that was my only brush with fame in Los Angeles. Being an Andy Dick Wrangler.  So belated hats off to you, Andy Dick, for doing what everyone in Hollywood, including me, knew you were capable of and expected of you. Namely, this crazy-ass shit:

Pedophilia: Hilarious!

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So, you remember the dude who dumped me who I wasn’t really dating at the time?

Now we are dating for reals. He is 11.5 years older than me, no lie, but he’s a nice guy so whatever. Age ain’t nothin’ but a number, right, or so said the late, great, Aaliyah?

Wrong.

It’s a little creepy when your new boyfriend starts referring to you as “the 7 year old [he] took to the prom.” As in, this is his idea of a laugh riot. But it’s not mine.