(Not really) Wordless Wednesday: Ask and you shall receive.

I'm granting your wish. Voila...my two pictures from my movie that I posted about HERE. Sorry about the quality. They are pictures of pictures taken on my phone.

Me with Zachery Ty Bryan (yes, the oldest son from Home Improvement) and two of the actual soccer players (who played different parts in the movie).



Swooning over Louis Mandylor. Did I tell you that he told me that I was beautiful? And blew me kisses (unscripted, thankyouverymuch, during the wedding scene)? Sigh.

When I get discovered, you can say you read my blog way back when. Namaste.

I Met Gerard. Yes, that one. And it didn't go well.

I am the most starstruck person I know.

You know those people who see a celebrity and jump up and down and cry? That's me. There's a couple things about myself that embarrass me, and this is one of them. It's ridiculous how starstruck I am.

Want to know a secret? It's because I swear I could have been an actress. I seriously think I narrowly missed being discovered and my acting skills are equal to that of some of those Hollywood starlets.

And it's quite possibly because my 8th grade speech team skills were stellar. Because clearly, that's a logical link between speech meet trophy winner and movie star.

Like I said, it's ridiculous.

Have I ever blogged about the year my neighbor was a local newscaster? That I went out to meet him in a BIKINI to get his attention because he was ON TV?

Oh, you read that right. While the weatherman isn't going to make me pee my pants like, say, Ellen DeGeneres would, I still have a bit of starstruckness for him.

Pathetic. Right here.

This starstruckness started early. Once, as a kid, I saw John Goodnman at a church picnic. I stared at him for hours. He waved to me, and lots of people were approaching him, having casual conversations with him. I just stared.

Another time, I met Keanu Reeves. I blogged about what an idiot I was a while back (if you didn't read my post about that, my eloquent one-liner was "Can I hug you?").

I also met Gerard Butler. And that is more embarrassing than my other two encounters put together. He was an extra in my movie. My movie is The Game of Their Lives, which unfortunately went straight to DVD. When I found out a movie was coming to my town when I was 24, looking for ethnic-looking Italian girls and was being filmed in the summer when I had absolutely no responsibilities (I had just gotten divorced), I was first in line.

Literally. I rounded up two of my friends and we got to the casting call that began at 8 am at 5 am. You better believe we were first in line, armed with snacks and bottled water and magazines and snapshots of ourselves and lots of coffee.

After waiting impatiently all day and wondering aloud if there would be a celebrity surprise appearance (a girl can dream), I made my way to the front of the auditorium. I filled out the sheet with my basic information, enthusiastically noting I'd cut or dye my hair if requested.

A couple weeks later, I got a phone call. Although my friends weren't going to be joining me, I! Was! Going! To! Be! A! MOVIE STAR!!!

The first night we filmed a wedding scene. I got hair and makeup done, and in the dress that I had previously scored in the wardrobe department. I thanked my lucky stars that this was set in 1950 and the hair, makeup, and bright red lipstick was beyond adorable. And the strapless, red-flowered a-line dress? I may have asked if I could keep it.

As I type this, I shed a tear over the fact that I only have two photos from that day. At one point, I had a whole album and I would pay to know where it is. Even more sadly, I didn't get a picture of the one person I should have. Sigh. I'm skipping ahead.

I met Louis Mandylor as he was exiting his trailer and I got a picture with him. I hadn't even seen My Big Fat Greek Wedding but the excitement regarding him from the women who were exras was palpable and contagious. He had that movie star way about him, and he told me I was beautiful, so obviously I fell instantly in love with him.

He also blew me kisses during filming. Sigh.

(Yes. I am serious. Like I said. Embarrassing.)

Filming the movie was fun. There was a lot of dancing in heels. I don't wear heels and I can't dance to save my life but I danced my ass off to stay in that scene. And it worked.

During one of the many, many breaks during filming, a man walked up to me. Although he was a good 30 years older than me, it wasn't weird that he just wanted to chat. Hanging out with that group of extras was like an Italian family's wedding reception. Everyone is loud and funny and affectionate. It makes for easy conversations with anyone, regardless of gender or age.

So this man approached me and said, "You havin' fun?"

And I started jabbering on about how amazing this was, and that this was my dream!come!true! And that I was just so, so happy that I got this opportunity.

The Man Who Could Have Been My Uncle chuckled and told me to follow him, where we'd go meet the casting director, who was his good friend. As we walked her way, he explained that they were looking for Sicilian-looking girls for another day of filming and he thought I might fit the bill.

As we walked toward the tall, blonde, sharp-looking director, she was already sizing me up. The man introduced her to me, she looked me up and down, and then said, "What're you doing Wednesday night?" Nothing would have been important enough to even pretend my schedule wasn't open. She invited me back and I giddily accepted.

Wednesday evening, filming was scheduled to be in a local grade school cafe-gym-atorium. I entered, this time, was dressed in a much more plain, albeit cute, gray cotton dress. Still ecstatic, I got my makeup done, begging for gossip from the makeup artists. Conspiratorially, they whispered that Gerard Butler was going to make an appearance tonight.

"Who?" I asked. At the time, his biggest films were Tomb Raider and Phantom of the Opera, neither of which I'd seen, so I hadn't heard of him.

Sure enough, when he walked in the door, I had to ask what all the buzz was about. When he approached MY table, I wasn't in danger of crying, fainting, or wetting myself since I wasn't familiar with him. Yet when he sat down and started a conversation with me, I still managed to make an ass out of myself even though I didn't realize it until years later.

He asked about me, and I asked about Angelina Jolie. (In my defense, this was in the pre-Jennifer era.)

He asked what I did for a living, and I answered that I was a speech-language pathologist, but that he should really tell me about Hollywood. And Angelina.

He insisted that my life was more interesting; that my job was rewarding and his was not; that he wanted to know about me.

And? I BLEW HIM OFF. AGAIN.

And then it was time for the extras to take our sets and I walked away from that beautiful man who now makes my heart beat a little faster, who B refers to as my "boyfriend." I walked away from him, accent and all.

And then? And then??

Months after we got one of the few sneak previews of the movie in the theater, and I waited and waited for it to come to the theaters (it never did), B had a special surprise one night when I came over to his apartment to hang out.

The Miracle Match. Oh, it was the same movie but with a different title. That should have been my first hint that it had some major changes.

You know, like completely cutting out both scenes that I saw myself in in the theater.

Womp, womp, womp.

I think I deserve a second chance at being an extra. I only have room for improvement.

...and Lilith smiles on us once again

I'm starting to think my friend Gina and I have the best concert luck ever. Remember this post? Our luck struck again this weekend at Lilith Fair.

The funny thing is, about ten years ago, we attended Lilith Fair and when it was time for Sarah McLaughlan (who we both adore) to perform, we simply walked up to a man guarding the reserved seats section, flirted a bit, and were given access to seats. They were pretty darn good...center stage, maybe twenty rows back.

On Saturday, we attended Lilith Fair for the first time since then. If you aren't familiar with it, Lilith Fair is a celebration of women in music and raises money for women's charities. I love the vibe there...it really is all about love and acceptance and the strength of women. (It's totally not a man-hating thing as people tend to think.)

So even though my discomfort has increased lately, and it was 100 degrees with a crazy humidity level here, I was excited to go. I picked Gina up and we headed to the venue. We got front row parking and walked up to the gate.

Gina looked at me and said, with determination, "We are going to use your belly to get into seats tonight."

Turns out, my belly wasn't even necessary to initially begin our plan of action.

Two women who worked there greeted us with an offer of free upgrades to seats. No strings attached. Apparently, they had only sold 3500 tickets, which is awful for this venue. We were moved up to 28th row. We were thrilled with the view and the partial shade, although we couldn't sneak up closer because we were actually in the second section.

Our friends sent me a text a few minutes later saying that they had just been given 7th row seats. We knew it was time to put the belly plan in action. We found the women giving away the tickets and I told her that these seats were still in the sun (only a partial lie) and, patting my belly, I was wondering if she had anything a little closer.

Up we went to 12th row.I was starting to think I should have played the lottery that morning.

We found our friends, who called us up next to them, as there were empty seats everywhere. We watched Courtyard Hounds and EmmyLou Harris from the 7th row.

We moved a little closer to the center for Mary J. Blige. If you've never had a chance to see Mary J. and you get it, take it. That woman is awe-inspiring. She sounds better in person than on the radio. Her dance moves are stellar. Her messages are enlightening. I want to be Mary J. Blige when I grow up. When we could tear our eyes off of Mary J., we scoped out the empty seats in the very center to figure out our next move, as Sarah McLaughlan was coming on next to end the show.

As soon as Mary exited the stage, we made a break for it. Some extremely nice women told us that the seats we were sitting in were taken, but pointed out all the seats around us that had been empty. We chose the ones that were 4th row and perfectly center stage.

As we waited for Sarah to start and the seats started filling up, we kept an eye out for where we'd move if someone came to claim our seats. But our luck continued. No one even glanced at us. We were literally close enough to hear Sarah pat out the beginning beat to the songs on her jeans.

And although I had to sit several times because my little personal heater in my belly was taking over, and my feet were swollen and painful, I couldn't have enjoyed the show more. Sarah rocked my socks off, from beginning to end of her set. She played classic Sarah songs, like Fumbling Toward Ecstasy, I Will Remember You, and In the Arms of an Angel. She introduced her new album, which we loved. She ended with the crowd singing along with Ice Cream...my favorite Sarah McLaughlan song ever.

She played the piano. She played the guitar. She belted out her songs. She danced around and smiled. I had goosebumps for most of the set.

Anyone want to hire Gina and I out to tag along to your next concert with you? Our next trick is to attempt to get backstage.

Dave Matthews, are you listening?

A little Q and A

I asked for questions from my readers, and as always, you didn't disappoint! Here are the answers that I'm sure you've been dying to hear....


Katie



1. What got you into speech pathology?

I started my high school career in a private all-girls high school, which I despised. However, I am grateful that the school helped me find my calling. In one of our religion classes, we had to choose a place to volunteer. When I brought the paperwork home to my mom, she excitedly insisted that I try the "Special People Halloween Party." I had no experience with people with disabilities, and I distinctly remember how nervous I was as we pulled up to the party that day. However, within an hour, I was helping a man with Down Syndrome eat his cake and wipe his face, and had fallen head over heels in love with people with disabilities. I was certain that I would become a special education teacher, and then my mom told me about speech-language pathologists. She explained that SLP's worked with kids one on one, or in small groups, and it was a much more flexible job than a teacher. My little brother had gone to speech therapy after getting tubes at two years old, and I had been deeply touched by my grandfather's loss of communication when he lost his hearing due to a brain tumor. I did a little research, and became very interested. When college recruiters came to my high school and I told them I wanted to be an SLP, they warned me that it was the hardest program at the school. I went home and told my mom that I had changed my mind, but she refused to let me do so. Within minutes of my first Introduction to Communication Disorders class, I realized that this was exactly what I was born to do. I've never looked back.




2. Is your district public, and how many students do you see on an average day?

Yes, I work in a public district. I work with less kids per day than the average SLP, only about 15 each day. I love the students who are low-functioning and require intensive one on one therapy. But I learned the hard way last year that working with only those students will burn you out pretty quickly. So this year, I picked up a couple of 2nd grade speech therapy groups, where I am teaching kids how to say specific sounds (busses rather than buthes). I also picked up some 5th grade language therapy groups, where I preteach them vocabulary from their classes or higher level everyday language (making inferences, comparing and contrasting, etc.) and it's a joy. I've also put some of my students who are nonverbal or have limited verbal language together in small groups, which is pretty interesting too.


3. What do you do when you want to unwind and RELAX?

Duh...I enter the blogosphere! :) I also go to spinning class, practice yoga, read trashy celebrity magazines, wrestle with L, go out to dinner with B, "rock out" to Guitar Hero with my boys, watch reality tv, and drink pumpkin beer.

Karen


How did you pick L's name?

I've liked the name Logan since I was in my 20's, which was fortunate, because B was absolutely set on that name. He first heard it on X-Men (Wolverine's real name is Logan) and always thought it was a really cool name. It fits him. His middle name is the same as B's middle name (and B's dad's first name).


If you had a "List", who would be on it?

How many do I get on this list? I'm including 7. I realize that may be pushing it, but, well, this is my blog. :)
1. Ben McKenzie







2. Matthew McConaughey




3. Dave Matthews



4. Evangeline Lilly (don't act shocked that I had to include a couple of girls!)



5. Olivia Wilde



6. David Morse (this one might shock you more than the females, but I have had the hugest crush on him ever since The Green Mile.)



7. Taye Diggs




Sarah
You mention your workouts and you are very active....I would like to know how much do you workout? days a week.. doing what..?? I need some inspiration ;)


I am currently trying to find a new plan that works for me. My goal is to work out 3-4 times a week (plus cutting the grass with a push mower every week, which I absolutely count as a workout). I never miss my Saturday morning spinning class, and my new goal is to lift weights twice a week, either in Body Pump or using free weights at the gym with B. I also try to work in another day of cardio. I enjoy spinning the most, but the only other time my favorite instructor teaches is at 5:30 am once a week. I'm signed up for this week, but I'll be honest, I also signed up for a 6pm class just in case I don't make it to that ridiculously early morning class. My teacher today told me that I really need to mix it up a little more, so we'll see if I can work something else in. If anything, I'll probably practice yoga at home on my own. Figure out a schedule that works for you, write it down, and stick to it. Eventually, if you find something you like, it will almost become addicting. Really.



Little Woman

1. Do you have any names picked out for when you and B decide to start making babies again?

It's funny that this was one of the questions, because now that B and I are in hoping-for-baby-number-2-mode, we are fighting over discussing names quite often. For a girl, he has tunnel vision with the name Isabella. However, Bella is not my favorite, mostly because it's ridiculously popular. If I could be sure that everyone would call her Izzy, I'd go for it. My favorite name is Emilia. My grandmother's middle name was Amelia, and my best friend's name is Emily, and I really, really, really love this combination of the two names. B isn't so crazy about it. The only other two names we are even throwing around are Scarlett and Charlie. If you all have any suggestions, please send them my way. For a boy, I am set on Gavin, but B is pretty wishy-washy on it. He doesn't have any other suggestions, though, so as far as I'm concerned, Baby Boy 2 will be Gavin unless he comes up with something better.

2. It's a cool fall day and we're driving through the mountains looking at all the pretty leaves and bitching..but then a song comes on the radio, what is the song that we will sing like their is no tomorrow?!

Aw, Little Woman...this would be a dream come true. For some reason, I could see us belting out "So What" by Pink. It always gets me super pumped up in my spinning class! (I hope you don't hate that song!)

3. You are def. coming to my future wedding! lol (ok so that wasn't so much a question as it was a statement) :)

Hook up the invite, and I'm there to see you get hitched to your Big Man!



Leslie

**Leslie and I worked together at my last school and I wouldn't have made it through some days without her. No exaggeration. We sadly lost touch a couple of years back. She has recently showed up as a commenter on my blog but has her own invite-only blog and I am certain she is snickering wickedly knowing that she is torturing me by commenting on my blog, even announcing pregnancy #3, and giving me no way to get in touch with her. However, I will answer her questions out of the kindness of my heart in hopes that I either get an invite to her blog or an e-mail from her soon. Hint, Hint, Leslie.

1. Mason wants to know why we only buy Haribo gummy bears, Im not really sure except they were the only kind you would eat. Is that still so?
Yep. I love me some Haribo gummy bears but I haven't had them in years. Now I have a craving. Thanks.

2. The next time my 20 month old has a F!I!T! Do you want him...a taste of life with 2?

I can't imagine that sweet little man ever throwing a tantrum to rival L, but if it means I get to see you, then bring him over! But there is a reason I've waited to even think about Baby #2 and I am grateful that I did. If I had a newborn now, I'd be heavily medicated.

Michelle

**Michelle asked me this question as part of a comment on my little meltdown post on Thursday.

Have you ever thought about being a foster parent? I know it would be so hard but I could picture myself doing it someday.

I don't think I have it in me to be a foster parent. I used to volunteer at a rehabilitation/pediatric therapy center and I had one little boy named Micah who was my favorite kid ever. We had such a bond that they allowed me to do things that volunteers didn't normally get to do, such as bathing the kids, etc. He was there because his mother neglected him. The day I got to the center and Micah wasn't there because his mom had gotten him back was the last day I volunteered there. I can't imagine that pain to an even larger degree. I don't think my heart could take it.


Emma Lilly

I have a question. It's more for a friend she has an autistic son and is trying to potty train him. They got him stuff that he likes like mqueen pullups and such to help. But I was wondering if you have any helpful ideas because you deal with these sort of things on a daily basis. Thanks.

Oh, Emma, thanks for visiting my blog, but I am the last person to ask for potty training advice, considering my own L is still struggling (and I myself was 4 before I was potty trained through the night!). However, my gut says to be ultra consistent and find out what motivates her son. When he goes, give him that IMMEDIATELY, whether it be his favorite candy, toy, sensory activity, etc. And she could always try a visual schedule using pictures (real photographs work best) so he understands what he needs to do, and what he gets to eat or do after he goes. She could put velcro on the back of the pictures and attach them to a strip. When he goes, he can take the picture of the potty off, and the next picture should be of his reward. Does that make sense? If not, e-mail me.

Laura

I have a burning question... when are we going to get sushi again?

Laura is my very good friend IRL. The poor thing is currently two days past her due date, still waiting for Little Girl A to be born. If I thought it would help her go into labor, I'd go to get sushi with her today. You know...not that I enjoy California Rolls or anything, just to be nice to Laura. I'm a good friend like that.


Katherine: If you don't mind, I have a slightly personal question. You've talked about being in an abusive relationship. I have a family member in an abusive relationship, and she doesn't seem ready to leave. From your point of view, is there anything I can do or say that will make a difference?


I have read and re-read your question several times. Every time I do, I sigh, because I understand why women stay in those relationships. I think the only thing that got me to leave was that B assured me that I could find someone else to love me. (At the time, I didn't realize that person would be him!) Part of the danger of abusive men is that they break down their wives until the women believe that they deserve the abuse. I believed that the abuse was all my fault, that everyone in my life hated me and that no one would ever want me if I did end up divorcing him. You have to build her self-confidence back up. Tell her she's beautiful. Does she realize she's being abused? Gently point out that she doesn't have to put up with anyone treating her badly. Engage her in conversations about it. Figure out her reason for staying. Is she scared to leave? Tell her she can stay with you. Above all, tell her how much she is loved. A million times. Feel free to e-mail me about this. I'd love to help if I can.

That was so fun! Thanks to all of you who sent me a question. I hope that you know a little more about me, now. Enjoy your long weekends!

Not Me! Monday...California Edition!

I did NOT leave my husband and 2-year old to go on a girls' trip to California with my mom, sister-in-law, and aunt (who happens to live in Texas). I am NOT totally jet-lagged and I should NOT be napping while L is snoozing. However, I do NOT feel the need to post today simply to be entered into MckMama's giveaway. I also do NOT want to relive my amazing trip already!
I am NOT the most starstruck person in the world. The Laugh Factory itself did NOT excite me. That would just be ridiculous. So when Tim Allen was the surprise guest that night, I did NOT have to do everything in my power to restrain myself from reaching out to touch him from the front row!!

When Tom Arnold asked if I was texting or twittering when I was turning my phone off, I did NOT tell him I was sending out a text to all my friends saying how handsome he was. I did NOT talk to Tom Arnold!!!! I am NOT excited about that. He is just a person. Duh.

The show at the Laugh Factory was NOT hysterical. I did NOT laugh until my face hurt. My aunt Gail did NOT get kissed on the lips and halfway molested by this comic. I would never allow that to happen. And if I did, I would NOT take a picture!


I would NOT laugh my ass off when he stripped down to his tighty-whities. Ew. And I would NOT take a photo of him sticking his butt in my mom's face. That is just disgusting and I do NOT enjoy that type of humor.


I did NOT thoroughly enjoy the walk by Grauman's Chinese Theater. I certainly did NOT get my picture taken with people in costume. And definitely NOT my man Barack and his wife Michelle. That's just silly.

I did NOT get my picture taken with Barney, Diego, and Spiderman for L. And I did NOT stop taking pictures after Spiderman because he was way too handsy. That is definitely NOT why I am standing so awkwardly in the photo below. Spiderman would NEVER be a perv. No way.

I did NOT love the touristy Walk of Fame. Ugh. And I certainly did NOT get my picture taken with The Doors star. I do NOT think Jim Morrison was sexy. No way. He was dirty and a terrible role model.

I did NOT eat the most delicious, freshest sushi in the world in Cali. I did NOT accidentally eat a raw one. I wouldn't be so silly to do such a thing. And if I did, I would NOT delight my sister-in-law by telling her it really wasn't bad. (I still do NOT like the cooked ones better.) I did NOT forget to bring extra batteries to the restaurant, so I do NOT fail to have a photo of me eating the delicious sushi. So I am NOT sharing a photo of me and my sister in law there instead.

I did NOT get a tattoo in California!!!

And it was NOT henna. Hee. Good call, Barefoot Blogger! :)

My sister-in-law is NOT extremely pale fair and was NOT battling a bad cold the whole trip. She did NOT want to stay away from the beach, to my dismay. We do NOT have nothing in common. So I did NOT leave her and my mother at lunch and slip away for an hour all by myself at the beach. I did NOT eat kettle corn and Pepsi for lunch. I am much more healthy than that. It was NOT one of my favorite parts of the trip.

I did NOT attempt to take photos of myself for my blogfriends. I did NOT apparently look pretty pathetic, because a stranger did NOT ask if I wanted him to take my picture. I did NOT tell him to take it from my chest up. That would be ridiculous. He did NOT listen. Although I am a bit embarrassed by the photo, I am NOT sharing it with you so that you can get a good laugh, too!

I did NOT get totally and completely ridiculously starstruck by Robertson Blvd. I did NOT go there twice. I did NOT go into Kitson to look for celebrities. And I certainly did NOT buy Kitson mints simply to have something that said Kitson. I am NOT going to keep Advil in the mint case. I am NOT that big of a loser. I did NOT also buy one for my equally starstruck friend.

We did NOT eat lunch at The Newsstand. I was NOT totally distracted while eating because I was looking for stars. I did NOT keep my receipt as a souvenier. And I certainly did NOT take a photo of the street sign. Not me!!

I did NOT walk by Starbucks several times looking for celebrities. I did NOT go next door to the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf simply because I had seen it in US Weekly. And I did NOT throw my Japanese Cherry green tea away because it was revolting. I also did NOT fall on my ass when I missed the step walking outside, because, say it with me, I was looking for celebrities. No way. Not me.

I did NOT embarrass the hell out of my sister-in-law when I asked my mom to take my picture in front of The Ivy. I am NOT that starstruck. I did NOT almost take a picture of the paparazzi across the street.

When we visited the Getty, I did NOT fail to bring my camera, thinking I wouldn't be able to take photos. That would be so dumb....of course you can take pictures. It was NOT amazing and beautiful. Although I was totally captured by the art (Van Gogh's "Irises" was truly breathtaking), I didn't look around for celebrities just in case once or twice. Not me!

I did NOT have to take Xanax before the flight took off. Both times. And I certainly did NOT have to hold my mom and sister-in-law's hand during takeoff. I am 31 years old and that is a bit excessive. I was NOT proud of myself for making it through without panicking!

I was NOT surprised about how happy I was to be home. I do NOT miss that unbelievably gorgeous weather. But I was NOT happy to drive around in the midwest sans traffic (and makeup) today.

My heart did NOT melt when I saw B and L when I walked into the airport. I did NOT miss them so much in four days. Considering L didn't ask for me too much (thank goodness B kept him uber-busy), I was NOT a little worried that he wouldn't care when I got home. I was NOT thrilled to get hug after hug after hug from my little man. And I was NOT a little tiny bit pleased that he would not give his grandma or aunt a bit of attention, just me.

I am NOT beyond thrilled with my California adventure.

Next time, I am NOT going to San Fran!