The Exchange of Change

Saturday around sunset, I found myself being approached by a homeless man looking for spare change outside of my favorite local liquor store (I won $2 dollars on a scratch off lotto ticket there, hence why its my favorite). After getting over the amazement of how many bags he was able to balance on his bike, I reached into my bag, un zipped the change portion of my wallet and pulled out whatever change my sausage fingers could link onto and handed it over.

After an exchange of change such as this, one usually hears the typical 'God Bless You' 'Thank you miss' 'You're one in a million' (okay so maybe not that last one, but a gal can dream). However, this exchange of change was different, for instead of a simple thank you or grunt, I received the following questions..."Did you count this? What is this? How much is this? Six cents? Is this a penny?" Once the initial wave of shock poured over me, I tried to answer all of his questions quickly and thoroughly as possible so not to seem rude. "Um, no, sorry, I didn't count it... it's all I have (lie)... I'm sorry, no, nope, didn't count it...eh yes, yes I guess it is six cents, again I didn't count it and that's all I have (again a lie), sorry." That's when things got real. The dickhead took the penny and held it out in front of my face and tried to return it to me, because apparently beggars REALLY are choosers. Really, when did the 'no penny donations' law pass? F***ing Bastard.

Look I realize that if I had dug little further in my bag I could have come up with an extra 15 cents and gum wrapper, or I could have been a saint and chucked him the five bucks I had shoved inbetween some old recents from the bar the night before, but I didn't because the stench of his grimy body and his stink eye stare were freaking me out. That said, I ALSO could have gotten back on my tin bike, which, for the record cost me a whopping $19.99 at Target three years ago and has a chain that pops off every other block, a seat that swivels when I ride so I always feel slightly off course and a brakes that are better known as the souls of my shoes, so I'm pretty sure, if compared, he would win the 'who's bike is better competition', but I didn't, I resisted riding off into the sunset and gave the fellow human in need the change that was readily available from my bag. Which apparently wasn't good enough.

Moral of the story, if you're going to be bold enough ask someone for spare change, or a back rub, just be damn grateful if they are nice enough to acknowledge the idea of your request by throwing some change, or oiled hands, your way regardless of the amount, or time, and move on with your day.

Drunk Banana

A few days ago, being the stellar 30 year old that I am, I snuggled up on my friends sofa for a 'sleepover' aka ' I can't afford gas to drive back n forth across town so I'm sleeping on a sofa to cut out some morning driving/gas cost'. By 11:20pm on Friday night I was on the fast track to R.E.M. and couldn't be more excited. However, my fun Friday night was ruined when at approximately 11:35pm her roommate walked in.

Her roommate whom we will name Boy B, moved out to Hollywood 3yrs ago to become an actor, stands about 6 feet tall, carries a slim tight build and the ego of Tom Cruise. To date, he has done nothing to further his acting career, unless of course you consider taking a catering gig for hip Hollywood parties a career 'game changer' like he does.

So in he walks, after throwing back a few with some of his buddies. He is buzzed and immediately starts chatting my ear off about his last catering gig. Awesome. He yaps away about serving a table of no bodies while Jennifer Lopez and Eve Mendes shared secrets at table across the room. Which in his mind of course means that they were at the same party.

In mid story he breaks to hit up the kitchen and grab a drunk munchie. This guys drunk munchie of choice is a banana. Really a f*cking banana? Douche.

Moving on, he rambles on about how he bumped into Tom Cruises' chair and watched Brad Pitt eat his diner. He couldn't take any pictures because it was a 'super high level' security party and they had to leave their cell phones at their 'home base'. He did however, manage to sneak out with a dirty napkin wiped by the mouth of Brad Pitt and a name card written out to none other than his bumping buddy, Tom Cruise.

After about what seemed like an eternity, this name dropping tale came to an end...with the dirty napkin being placed in my hand for proof. I thanked Boy B for sharing the details of his budding career and started to pull the blanket back over my head when he continued.

Boy B: "Jeanine, I'm not sure how to ask you this, but, uh, are you, are you wearing a retainer?"

Me: "Yeah"

Boy B:"Uh, and (haha clear throat) you're ok with that? I mean your comfortable wearing a retainer in public?"

Me: "Yes Boy B, I am, I'm thirty sleeping on a sofa, wearing a t-shirt from 1999, and am wearing a retainer, and as shocking as it may be, I am perfectly comfortable with that" (clearly I've been 'living the dream' for too long now).

Boy B: "Huh, Wow! I mean, I'm just, wow a retainer! Right now, While I'M Standing HERE talking to you!...... Nah, you know what....Good for you!"

Me: " : ) Gee thanks Boy B"

...Meanwhile my inner monologue is screaming: 'Really? Really? You drunk banana eating douche bag. Yes I am wearing a retainer because clearly I care more about my straight teeth than any opinion you may ever form of me and secondly, since when did sitting on a sofa listening to you name drop about how you picked up dirty buffet plates become 'in public'...ps button you f*ing shirt up, nobody wants to see you bald chest, no body'.

Yes I wear a retainer. It's preventative.

Let Me Look At You

Today my agent called me in for a commercial audition for a sex toy company, yes a sex toy company. I was asked to audition for the role of the 'Kitty, the Kooky girl that awkwardly hits on the hot guy that rejects her', lucky for me, I have years experience in that field so it was a piece of cake.

Now, after nailing my audition, pun intended, I stopped in to say goodbye to my agent and this is how a polite 'thanks bye!' went down. "Let me look at you?...Hm, yeah, that's it!" Puzzled, I responded with "I'm sorry??" She continued... "You have no chin. In your pictures you have a chin, a pointy little chin that sticks out, but in person you don't. YOU have an OVAL face, a perfectly oval head actually, no chin..." Shocked I responded with (while stroking my jaw line) "Well I have put on a few pounds so maybe..." Agent "Nope, that's not it, your weight, it's your chin, you are oval. It almost looks like you shaved the sides of your hair to make your face look wider. . . . Call me next week so we can set up a time for you to get some new shots that represent what you really look like. Perfectly OVAL face..Oh and those cheekbones 'cheerokee cheekbones' need specific lighting, we'll need to be careful with that."

As if that wasn't lovely enough, after she ceased making remarks said agent leaned back in her chair, pointed, starred and laughed "Ha! You're like my agent just told me I have an oval head! Haha."

She was correct. I was in fact standing there like 'WTF? My agent just told me I have no chin and an oval head? Really? Oval? Oval face? That's me? Really? What does that even mean? And seriously, you couldn't think of another way to phrase that?' ... ' Cheerokee? I'm a f-ing Polish Irish blend!'

Thanks for the F-ing sex toy audition.
Signing off, Oval Face Kooky Girl

They

Anyone know who 'they' are?

Just curious, cause 'they' seem to know a lot... And I've based a lot of my life off of the knowledge 'they' have provided.

So it would be nice to know who 'they' are, just saying.

Pet Peeves

Recently I was asked to make a list of my top pet peeves, for what is not important. After making and reviewing the list I started to pay more attention to the people that surround me as well as myself. And it was then that I noticed I'm an active participant in some of my very own pet peeves.

Therefore, I've decided to get a roommate. I mean cause really, who I am suppose to blame for not doing dishes or closing cabinet doors...clearly not myself.

Hey 80's! It's been awhile, good to see you?

While dressing this morning I took a moment, or few, to roll (or cuff whichever you prefer) the bottom of my jeans. A task that was a little more difficult and took more precision than I remembered, after all it's been oh say twenty some years since my last rolling.

That said, it was then, in mid re-roll of the left leg that if occurred to me, I was regressing back to a fashion style I swore I would never revisit. To top it off, upon finishing two perfect cuffs I stood up and caught the reflection of my baggy off-the-shoulder t-shirt in the mirror. Yikes! 80's how did you get in here!

It seems like only yesterday I going through old photo albums (remember those - the kind with the sticky cellophane type pages that you actually had to physically insert pictures in vs hitting a button labeled 'upload') thinking to myself 'Sweet Jesus who let me dress like that! Never again, never ever again! ' The 80's is one fashion decade that I'm glad to have said a final goodbye ...or so I thought.

Ripped denim, rolled denim, off the shoulder tees, colored tights, color hoop earrings, vest (ok maybe that was more early 90's) skinny headbands and fluffy skirts, hammer pants....and dare I say, shoulder pads? Ugh its everywhere! And it's 2010! Have we not learned our lesson people? Apparently not. OR maybe we have, but are just lazier than ever...I mean who needs to create new ideas when we can just reuse old ones.

Don't believe me? Just take a trip out to your local shopping center and you'll see the young people of today sporting such trends or just check out the pic below....

(Yes, those photos are from 2010)

Sadly, if you're like me, you've tried to fight it, but before you know it your buying t-shirt with a catch phrase logo on the front and rolling your jeans or throwing on a pair of tights under your dress as if its a natural instinct. Personally, I blame the lack of options and well the paparazzi, cause why not. Although...I guess in someways it is rather helpful, I mean due to the state of our economy we can now 'roll' out some of those items of clothing that have been hidden in our attics (since we couldn't bear to part with) and rock them.

Gee I can't wait to look back at my pictures saved to my hard drive and declare 'Who let me wear that! What was I thinking!' ...Oh world of fashion, won't we ever learn.

Oh and PS Kayne - Hate to break it to you...you didn't invent the colored block shutter shades, the 80's did. But they say thanks for representing.

Oh...You're Adopted?

Once upon a time I was subleasing a fabulous apartment in Venice Beach. This two bedroom one bath cosy bungalow, tucked a block away from the main drag in town came with a Roommate. An interesting fella with a random work schedule, random drinking habit and a random set of guest always swinging by...yet kind none the less.

One set of random guest was his father and brother. Much like he, they were nice people, nice people that lived with us for three days.

Day two of their stay Father Roommate decided to whip up a dish in the kitchen, sadly I was on my way out, therefore missing the delicious dish, however I did have time to take part in some light conversation before leaving. So we did.

We chatted about where I was going, what I do, where I'm from....then about what he was cooking, what he does and where he's from. It was around that moment that the Roommate entered the kitchen. He chimed in regarding the 'where's he's from' question and offered a quick tale of growing up there. Then silence hit. In retrospect I should have said a polite 'nice talking to you enjoy your dinner' and moved on, however for some unknown reason I felt the need to indulge in another comment.

"Wow, ya know, you two really look so much alike! Like it's almost crazy how much you both look alike!!!"

Blank stares in return.

Cue Roommate "....Uh...I'm adopted"

"What?! No you're not, look at you two!"

Cue Roommate and Father Roommate "Uh yes"

"Really?...Oh...huh...(awkward smile)....how about that...well I got to get going..."

Looking back, I do (vaguely) remember Roommate telling me he was adopted upon my moving in. Would have been pretty awesome to have remembered that.