Monster Mash

Took me awhile to get this blog out, but here it is.

I gotta say that kids get ripped off on Halloween. The holiday can only be truly appreciated by adults. Think about it. As a kid, your costume has to be mom approved and warm enough for trick-or-treating. And usually it's made out of something cheap and itchy.

"But what about all the candy?" One might say. Well that is just another scam. You pound the pavement for two hours knocking on strangers doors begging for candy. That's when you learn about all the weirdos in your neighborhood.

Either you get the way over enthused grown-ups who oooh and ahhh and have no idea what you costume is... or you get the loner old man (who may or may not be on the sexual predator list) whose house smells funny. And don't forget the empty honor system bowls and the fake scarecrows ready to pop out and scare you. Umm.. no thanks.

Because then after all that work and you get home to count your loot, your mom comes in and begs for some chocolate. Soon after she starts demanding all your good candy. You wisely hide the rest of your treats... only to find them again on Easter. ('k maybe that last bit only happened to me.)

The point is that kids get the shaft. For those of us currently childless, Halloween is a great party holiday. You get to dress up in sexy or socially taboo costumes, dance like crazy, and get drunk. Honestly I can't think of anything more fun than that.



And fun is exactly what I had this weekend. Gotta thank Tim and Traci for a kick-ass party. I started out not really knowing many people there, but had a blast the whole night.

What a night it was too. Full of Jello shots, kegs, fluffy chairs, drunken drama, and table dancing. Although I deeply regret the last. My knees still hurt from dancing on the pool table. Something about bare legs grinding into felt covered slate doesn't mix.



But it's all good. When I picked up my camera Sunday I realized I'd taken close to 80 pictures...Yikes. Anyway there really are too many to choose from, so I put up a sampling... enjoy!

The Searchers (an Eastern)

JR and I took a little trip to East Toledo today. He needed a few things to complete his Halloween costume and the best place to look was at an Army Surplus store clear across the city (about 25 minutes away.) Originally I wasn't going to go with him, but when he started to leave today I decided I wanted to go.

We found the store without much hassle but once we stepped inside I figured we wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. It was full of "guy" stuff and I knew he was in macho heaven. Due to some very helpful clerks (they asked us if we needed help like every five minutes,) we found what we came for right away.

The good news is that his costume is now complete, the bad news is that he just shot himself in the leg.

Don't worry it wasn't with a real gun. To explain I have to travel back in time about two years when JR was living with his buddy Q in Michigan. If ever there was a "guy" house, then Q's house would be it. Never mind the 14ft TV screen (yes that is in feet,) the keg-erator full of Pabst, the pool table/dining table, or even the full size arcade games- it was the pellet guns that separated the boys from the men.

Somewhere alone the line Q bought some pellet BB guns (they shoot tiny plastic balls with medium force.) One thing the guys enjoyed doing was randomly (and without warning) shoot each other. And as an innocent bystander who took a couple hits, I'll tell you those little balls could sting.

The shoot outs are what I think JR misses most about not living at Q's. He's coveted one of those pellet guns for along time, and today he finally got one. But in the twenty minutes since he's opened the thing my Mickey pumpkin and his leg have both been victims. Even though I told him NOT to shoot at my pumpkin and I have no idea why he would turn the gun on himself.

I'm sure I could have told him "no way," and forbid him from buying it, but that's really not my style. He does most the vacuuming anyway so he can deal with all the lost BBs it sucks up. And if we end up losing our security deposit on the apartment because of holes in the walls, it's his problem. Plus he did need a convincing gun for his costume.

I was impressed that he didn't pull the gun out of the box the moment we got in the car, but apparently he does have some self control.

Since we were on the extreme far side of town I decided to do a little exploring. I had heard there was a third mall somewhere in the eastern side of Toledo. We had driven waaay out of town and I was about to turn around when we found it.. next to a barn.

Actually it's a good size mall with three big name anchor stores. But the mall itself is dying. It made me really sad to see the nearly empty mall obviously limping toward death. In my mind's eye I could picture it's heyday and all the noise and life it must have once held. I don't think it's been revamped since the early nineties. What was left of the decorations and faded paint tells a tale of neglect.

What's even sadder is that Toledo has another mall in similar shape. Although the second mall has been bought and is slated for demo in the next few years. When JR and I first drove by we thought it was already closed. One of the anchor stores still had a Montgomery Wards sign outside, and I know they've been out of business for a few years at least.

Eventually though we worked up the courage to go inside and were amazed by how cool it was inside. They have a giant carousal that you can still ride in the middle. And the whole mood of the mall is really retro with lots of rich golds and ambers. It reminds me of some of the malls I went to as a kid before they built the fancy new ones.

Walking by all the empty stores got me thinking about the history of those malls. I would have liked to visit them during their peaks. There's a cool website called www.deadmalls.com that has a rundown of a lot of dead malls across the county.

Oh, and the gun? JR is laying on the couch holding it to his chest at this very moment. I'm kinda afraid for my TV.. the Tigers aren't doing so hot and he's a little testy about it.

It's alive... ALIVE!!!!

The curse has struck again.

Today I was filling in at work. It was my first time working with our main male anchor (you see where this is headed don't ya?) Five minutes before air a page goes through the building for Maintenance to go to the studio NOW. That's never a good sign, and it only got worse.

We're getting a new set in the studio. Unfortunately we don't have a back-up studio so all the building has to be done in between newscasts. Sometime today during the construction some things got unplugged and it messed up our lighting control board.

The beginning of the first block went just fine, but right before the tease, the lights all go off... on air. Thankfully our male anchor covered well, making some comment about how we're preparing for Halloween with a new "scary" (and he made hand motions here,) look.

We finally got the lights back on a half an hour later. But in between there it was pretty crazy trying to drag in enough lights so the cameras could pick up the talent. And during all of this my cordless Prompter control dies during a story. So I'm kneeling on the ground running prompter for the anchors (yeah our back-up is in a dumb place,) and trying to stay out of the way from the people rigging up emergency lights. I swear, if I'm not cursed then the studio is possessed.

But speaking of Halloween, I carved my first pumpkin last night.



I know it seems weird, but I can't ever remember carving a pumpkin before. I know my dad carved some pretty cool ones, but either he wouldn't let me, or I didn't want to do my own. So for my first attempt I choose Mickey Mouse. And although it's not perfect I'm really proud of it. I was afraid it'd come out looking like a little kid did it. Especially since I drew the pattern myself.

After doing all the cutting and cleaning myself I can easily understand why I never did it as a kid... it's hard. And when all the work was done I toasted some Pumpkin seeds (they are sooo addictive.) Yup, I felt pretty domestic last night. I even did some sewing for my Halloween costume. There are still more modifications to be made, but I was a mini-Martha yesterday for sure.

JR's pumpkin turned out great.



Both of our pumpkins reflect our personalties perfectly.

I'm Cursed!

Actually I should say I AM a Curse.

On three separate occasions, during three separate shows, with three separate female anchors, I've had the same thing happen. They all choked, literally.

The first time was with the morning anchor doing the Noon show. Halfway through the first story she paused, then cleared her throat, then started coughing uncontrollably. Thankfully she managed to toss to weather and I gave her my water bottle. But it was painful to watch her face get red and her eyes water as she attempted to speak around the hacking.

About a month later I was working on the 5pm with a different anchor and the same thing happened. Just as we go to video in her first story she stops speaking and starts choking. Again she managed to toss to weather, and I lost another water bottle.

Yesterday, you guessed it, same thing- different person. It's the 5:30pm show and although we keep all the other people on set, we change up the female anchor for a half hour. So this girl sits down at the desk and thirty seconds later her voice goes tight and I think "oh great, not another one." But this time it was different. The poor girl almost passes out at the desk. She turned deathly pale and sweaty, and obviously was having problems speaking, but no coughing this time (thank God, because I didn't have a water bottle in the studio yesterday.)

After a few painful stories (for her and us) the producer got in her ear to throw to weather and disaster was adverted. But it was a "Clencher" moment for all of us.

If you can't identify with "clenching," then you've never worked in News and had an on-air moment that stops everyone in their tracks and has rear ends tightening. During a "Clencher" everyone is on an unspoken standby to either; take black, or go to commercial. It's the few seconds just before the show may or may not, go to hell.

Of course all these vocal mishaps happened when the anchors just happened to be doing a solo show (when usually the co-anchor could have just taken over.) And they are all easily explained.

The culprit with the morning anchor was some peanut M&M's she ate just before the show. A piece of shell still in her teeth or something flew back into her throat when she took a big breath. The 5pm anchor simply swallowed wrong (c'mon you've done it too.) The poor girl yesterday only weighs 90lbs soaking wet and they had just painted the set and changed the desktop. I'm sure all the fumes and kicked up dirt (newsrooms are extremely dirty,) went straight to her, I know I got a headache from it.

Still, I feel like I'm cursed. All three women said they've never had that happen to them before. The only common factor in all three cases... me. So either I need to shower more, or I'm cursed.

By the power vested in me...

I learned an interesting fact this weekend. Apparently in the state of Michigan a man legally owns his wife's hair.

So theoretically I'll have to ask JR's permission to cut, dye, style, (and yes even shave,) any of my hair. Of course he finds this all hilarious and anytime he catches me touching my hair he makes comments about how it's really "his" hair.

This got me nervous about any other "unusual" laws we might encounter when we get married. A few Google searches later and I discovered a whole bevy of strange laws across this great county of ours.

Some of these I've heard before. In fact I'm fairly certain we did a sweeps PKG last year about this. But in case you were unaware I've complied a list of my favorites below.

Other bizarre Michigan laws:

Cars may not be sold on Sunday.

Any person over the age of 12 may have a license for a handgun as long as he/she has not been convicted of a felony. (Because so many preteens have felonious records.)

It is against the law for a lady to lift her skirt more than 6 inches while walking through a mud puddle.

Married couples must live together or be imprisoned. (I know a few people who would take option two.)

In Detroit, couples are not allowed to make love in an automobile unless the act takes place while the vehicle is parked on the couple's own property.

Single guys and gals caught in the act of sex in Michigan can be fined as much as $5,000, and they could be sentenced to as many as five years in prison.

It is illegal to loiter in the city morgue in Detroit. (And I heard it was the new "cool" place to hang out.)

A man can also get 20 years in Michigan for placing "his spouse in a brothel."

U.S. Laws:
It's illegal to have sex with a corpse anywhere in the United States. (Thank goodness for THAT.)

As recently as 1990, these states had laws against the use of dildos: Idaho, Utah, Arizona, Oklahoma, Minnesota, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Washington D.C. (I feel bad for all the single women in those states, makes lonely nights even lonelier.)

Bikini car washes (where women wash cars topless) are prohibited in most states, but the fine is only $50 per incident, so places charge an extra $50 to recoup their legal costs.

Federal law forbids recycling used eyeglasses in the United States.

Impotence is grounds for divorce in twenty-four states in the United States. (Wonder if Viagra will change this law.)

Mid-West Laws:

In Indiana, mustaches are illegal if the bearer has a "tendency to habitually kiss other humans."

In Minnesota, it is illegal for any man to have sexual intercourse with a live fish. (Are dead fish ok?)

In Oxford, Ohio, it's illegal for a woman to strip off her clothing while standing in front of a man's picture. (mmm, ok...)

In the quiet town of Connorsville, Wisconsin, it's illegal for a man to shoot off a gun when his female partner has an orgasm. (Talk about going out with a BANG.)

No man is allowed to make love to his wife with the smell of garlic, onions, or sardines on his breath in Alexandria, Minnesota. If his wife so requests, law mandates that he must brush his teeth. (LOVE this one, I'm moving.)

Monkeys are forbidden from smoke cigarettes in South Bend, Indiana.

In Ohio it is illegal to get a fish drunk. (What's with the fish?)

Southern Laws:

In Alabama, it's against the law for a man to seduce "a chaste woman by means of temptation, deception, arts, flattery or a promise of marriage."

An excerpt from Kentucky state legislation: "No female shall appear in a bathing suit on any highway within this state unless she be escorted by at least two officers or unless she be armed with a club."

In Romboch, Virginia, it is illegal to engage in sexual activity with the lights on.

In Quitman, Georgia, it is illegal for a chicken to cross the road. (But not against the law to tell bad jokes.)

Every citizen of Kentucky is required by law to take a bath once a year.

In Miami, Florida it is illegal for a man to wear any kind of strapless gown. (Ironic)

In Alabama, dominoes may not be played on Sunday.

In Arkansas, a man can legally beat his wife, but not more than once a month. (Well that makes sense.)

In Oklahoma, no baseball team can hit the ball over the fence or out of a ballpark. (Explains why there are no pro teams in Oklahoma.)

Eastern Laws:

The only acceptable sexual position in Washington, D.C. is the missionary position. Any other sexual position is considered illegal. (No Honeymoon at the Capitol for me.)

In Waterville, Maine, it is illegal to blow one's nose in public.

In New York, it is against the law for a blind person to drive an automobile. (Gee, ya think?)

"Coasting on Beaver Street" is illegal in Edgeworth, Pa. ('nuff said.)

Under the Code of 1650 in the New Haven Colony (in what is now Connecticut), a 16-year-old boy could be put to death if he "cursed, struck or disobeyed" his parents or was "stubborn or rebellious." (Bring that law back please!)

It used to be a $200 fine in Vermont to deny the "existence or being of God."

A minister in Pennsylvania is not supposed to perform a marriage ceremony if either the bride or the groom is drunk. (Not a lot of weddings there I guess.)

West of the Mississippi Laws:

In the state of Utah, sex with an animal—unless performed for profit—is not considered sodomy and therefore is legal.

In the state of Washington there is a law against having sex with a virgin under any circumstances, including the wedding night. (Wonder how that's supposed to work?)

It's against the law in Willowdale, Oregon, for a husband to curse during sex.

In Texas, sixteen-year old divorced girls are prohibited from talking about sex during high school extracurricular activities.

In Montana, it is a felony for a wife to open her husband's mail.

In Mesquite, Texas it is illegal for kids to have unusual haircuts. (Please tell me Mullets are included in this.)

In 1985, an Arizona legislator proposed that each candidate for the legislature take a reading and an I.Q. test three months before the election. The scores would have been posted on the ballot, had the bill passed. But a majority of legislators, for whatever reason, voted it down.

It is illegal for any member of the Nevada legislature to conduct official business wearing a penis costume while the legislature is in session. (I'm sure there is a story behind this.)

A Utah legislator proposed a resolution urging that each TV weather person be required to provide an ice cream cone to every member of the state House of Representatives whenever the forecast was wrong. The resolution failed. (They would have been forced to reduce taxes every time THEY were wrong.)

**************

And to note, as weird and bad as these outdated laws may seem, America has it easy. Here are a few quick samples from other countries:

In Hong Kong, a betrayed wife is legally allowed to kill her adulterous husband, but may only do so with her bare hands. The husband's lover may be killed in any manner desired.

There are men in Guam whose full-time job it is to travel the countryside and deflower young virgins, who pay them for the privilege of having sex for the first time. Why? Under the law in Guam, it is forbidden for virgins to marry.

The Romans would crush a first-time rapist's gonads between two stones.

Sodomy has long been a serious offense in Peru. A person who has engaged in it is first dragged through the streets on a rope. Hanging comes next. Finally, the corpse is burned while fully clothed. (Yikes)

The Little Engine that Could... Maybe?

Arg!! Help!

I have a serious dilemma. All of those in the News Biz who know me know that being a P.A. really isn't my thing. While I enjoy having less responsibilities, I am bored with feeling impotent at work. And yes, I know, everyone in TV matters, and ultimately you couldn't do the News without "lowly" P.A.s.

But (and stop me if I'm too full of myself) I am better than that. Sure for a temporary gig being a Production Assistant is fine. It's also a good way to break into a station and move up. But after three months it's becoming increasingly clear that unless I want to direct (I don't really) I have no where to go, not even full-time.

Our station is currently hard up for Photogs. It's been suggested to me that I should apply and since they're so desperate I could maybe get my way (i.e. no overnight shoots by myself.) Even if I was promised that I'd only have to shoot court stuff, maybe some medical PKGs, and edit to my heart's content I don't know if I would do it.

For one when I left NBC I was shooting like maybe once a week. And even then they were always Guerrilla shoots (run in, film enough for :40 sec, run out.) Occasionally I'd get to shoot some web pages or a live shot, but overall I was at best a "solid" shooter.

But what about the yummy lure of editing? I LOVE editing. It's not even bragging to say I have a gift for it. But like all gifts there are some areas of weakness. The biggest weakness is that my talents lay with a system called AVID. From day one I've connected with that machine. But my current station doesn't have my beloved AVID. Instead they have a system that I feel is far inferior. I've only played with it a little, and I'm sure with time I'd be ok at it, but right now I know I'd not reach my full potential with EDIUS.

Ok, so I'm scared, super scared. I could do it, but I still don't want to. The money and security thing is soooo tempting, but months ago I was dead set on NOT ever being a Photog again, I hate going against my word.

But that is only half the dilemma. Today I found this job posting on the local ABC web site:

Television News Trainees (10/09/06>
LOCATIONS: Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina, Flint, Michigan, Toledo, Ohio The ABC Owned TV Stations Group (OTVS) has a unique opportunity for individuals who are interested in a news career in the television industry. ABC OTVS is comprised of 10 television stations, including the top 6 Nielsen markets. We have opportunities for ambitious news trainees who must be geographically flexible to work in any of our station locations/markets across the country. Trainee opportunities are initially available in Raleigh-Durham, Flint, and Toledo. We are offering an on-the-job training program for one year in the key area of television news producing. If successful, we will want to place you in a producer position in one of our 10 stations. We have a commitment to diversity and seek diverse candidates and talent. The selected candidates will:

Be assigned to produce daily newscasts and will also act as associate producer for newscasts.
Receive exposure to promotion, programming, community affairs and other operations of the TV station as they interact with news producers.
Shadow news managers as well as news producers.
Participate in news editorial and planning meetings.
Learn and be tutored on the practical side of news producing including the key areas of news ethics, news judgment and story selection, news writing and graphics production.

REQUIRED QUALIFICATIONS: The qualified candidates will have a Bachelor's degree and a minimum of six months experience working in a television or radio newsroom as an employee and/or intern. The candidates will demonstrate:

Ability to produce daily newscasts.
Ability to manage time effectively to meet tight deadlines.
Excellent writing skills.
Good judgment and story selection.

DESIRED QUALIFICATIONS: Previous news producing experience is a plus. Effective use of I-News and Grass Valley NewsEdit is desired. ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: We will pay a salary and full benefits while on this one year program. Regional or local candidates preferred. Minimal relocation assistance may be available. Candidates should bring a non-returnable tape of a recent broadcast they produced, as well as writing samples to the job interview.


Ok, to sum up if you didn't bother to read it, they'll train and pay me for a year. A year! Ah, but check out the last line--- I don't have ANY samples of my writing. Sure I've written a few cut-ins and a national story or two in the past few years. Hell, I even produced in College for part of a semester. But did I keep any samples? Umm, no.

Hindsight and all that crap aside, how do I convince these people that I'm a good candidate? This seems like a dream and if I could get in on this I'd be so happy. Because even if they didn't hire me after the year, I'd have a year's experience.

But self doubt is rearing it's ugly head.

1) I just got to my station (not the one offering the producer gig) and I feel bad jumping ship so soon.

2) I have no proof that I can write (not even sure I CAN, but I'm a quick learner and I've been in News longer than some Producers I know)

3) What if they want me to do my training in one of the other cities?

4) I'm not good at grammar or a great speller, but I do know something about good copy (just had to throw that in.)

So please people, now is not the time for you to tell me I can do it (although that'd be nice to hear.) I need real solutions and fast.

Muse-ing

Everyone knows I've been writing a book and yada yada. Thought I'd do a little update. Currently I've written 33,000 words, actually 33,583 to be exact. Lately I have been moving at a snail’s pace with this book. Part of that I blamed on JR because he's been around so much lately. But even after our schedule got back to normal I had some issues starting up again. Well I seem to be back in the flow (I realize I'm jinxing myself here,) and I've come to a very important conclusion. My Muse is a slut.

That's right, a bona fide Nympho. How else can I explain her absence the past several weeks? For days I've been unmotivated to write. I would sit down determined to write, going even so far as to unplug my laptop from the Internet lest I lose hours to MySpace and other people's blogs. There I'd be, poised and committed to work on my book and....nadda. It'd be like buying a Quadriplegic a lap dance, cruel and utterly unsatisfying.

So finally I made some painful headway with my characters and got them set up for their first real sex scene. And once the clothes started flying, who do you think popped their head into the room to see what was going on? Yeah, you guessed it, my MIA Muse.

So then I start writing at a pace I haven't achieved since I first began working on the book. Everything was falling beautifully into place. There were my heroes, complete with throbbing this’ and that’s, and for sure a few things were moist and panting. And in the corner was my sex crazed little Muse egging me on, nearly orgasmic herself. I just had to put on the brakes. It was all moving too fast for me, and I'm fairly certain it was moving to fast for my heroes as well.

It wasn't the sex so much as the tone of it that was bugging me. I felt as if I wasn't doing the action justice. Because despite my Muse's wild suggestions, I kept pulling the punches. She (and my Muse is for sure female) wanted me to use some really naughty words. You know, the big ones; ass, shit, (I'm whispering these BTW) fuck, tit, cock, pussy, twat...

Ok, maybe not twat. Not even the best romance writer couldn’t use that word and still make a sex scene romantic. I mean can you imagine?

His fingers brushed over the peaks and valleys of her womanly curves. She sighed in pleasure as his hand finally found her Twat, itching with desire--

Ack! Itching Twats?! What would the name of that lovely novel be "STD's: A Love Story?"

In any case, my point is not that I'm uncomfortable using those big girl dirty words (I mean it was MY Muse that suggested them after all.) But even when I'm lost in the joy of writing a voice in the back of my head (not my finicky Muse) winces when I start to get juicy. And that wince always sounds like my mother's. Because I haven't made it a big secret, my entire family is very aware that I'm writing a book. And even if it never hits bookshelves, they're gonna wanna read it.

It's wonderful to have their support, but my mother would be outraged that her daughter even knows about some of the things I'm writing. She has a great defense mechanism for things she can’t handle... it's called denial. Even though I'm living with a man (unmarried mind you,) to get over the shame of having such a slutty daughter she convinces herself nothing is going on. So were she to read my graphic descriptions of a blowjob, her little make-believe world would come crashing down. Because after all, writers write what they know. And while I wouldn't be lying if I said I haven't done everything I'm writing about (to my knowledge I've never had sex with a hunky alien) she'll know I'm pulling these scenes from somewhere.

I know I know. You all are thinking, “just get over it and write the way you need to write. You. Are. An. Adult.” And you would be absolutely right. In the end I’m sure my Muse will win out. Because as flighty as she is during the nitty gritty, I still need any assistance she can give. It would not be wise to piss of a horny Muse. Plus I’m pretty sure she’s Union, and Lord knows I don’t want to deal with THAT!

Wish me luck. Oh and two things:

1) It’s Friday, guess what I get to go sing at work? (Insert sarcastic “Yippee” here.)

2) The stripper/cameraman no longer works at my station. He either quit or got fired, but it’s a shame either way. He was a really good cameraman.

Crimson Tide

Ever feel like ripping your ovaries out? Well I have.

Ok, to be honest that isn't a fair thing to say since many women have had their female parts removed and would give anything to have them back. And although I'm not volunteering mine, it'd be nice if having them weren't such a pain in the -- ok just a pain period. (get it, period.)

I've been thinking a lot about PMS and that time of the month (partly thanks to Adela's blog.) It seems that just about every female I know is going through some phase of her "Monthlies" right now. Kinda like when you and your roommates's hormones mess with each other and by the end of the year you're on the same schedule (suddenly not taking out the trash becomes a WW3 conflict.)

As much as I despise when men assume I'm being a bitch or unreasonable simply because it's "that time," there really is some validity to that statement. I don't always notice my personality switching because of hormones, but this month it's been painfully obvious.

My dad told me awhile ago what song he wants to dance to during our father/daughter wedding dance. It's a good choice but I hadn't heard it since he mentioned it. Then Friday I got in the car to go to work, guess what was playing? It's a miracle I didn't run over any small children during my bawling. But I thought "what a sweet song, of course I'll tear up once in awhile." During lunch that day I had an errand to run so I got back in my car and what do you think was playing on the radio? Yup, you got it.

But it doesn't end there. Twice more on Friday I heard that song, and I cried the same amount EVERY freaking time. So not typical behavior for me. By the third time I heard the song my first thought was, "what are the odds that this song just happens to come on every time I get in my car." and my second thought, as I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, was, "I am so PMSing."
The other sure sign that I was PMSing came during grocery shopping. I've always been taught not to shop for food when I'm hungry, well the same should apply to women who are about to "start." Walking by the Halloween candy aisle was pure torture. But I passed it by, only stopping to pick up a York pattie in the shape of a bat.

And the final sign, the "girls." I have no idea why this happens during PMS, but my breasts become painfully sensitive. Taking off my bra is always dicey during this time. A sudden move, or tangled strap can bring me to tears. And if I successfully free myself, I still have to bite my tongue against a gasp of pain when they first support their own weight. They throb in misery if JR even glances at them. Even the slightest touch during this time could bring me to my knees.

Dealing with unruly emotions and uncontrollable cravings during PMS must be a small sample of what being Pregnant is like. In fact one could view the entire menstrual cycle as a mini-pregnancy. Ovulation creates a high sex drive which is followed by weight gain(thank you water retention,) mood swings, sore boobs, food cravings, aches in strange places, and eventually contractions to rid the body of a mass of cells. Because really that's what cramps are, small contractions.

I never used to take pain medication during my crampy days because I felt I should toughen myself up and prepare for labor. Almost the same view I had at the dentist. I once let my dentist drill and fill a cavity without telling him that the Novocaine wasn't working, at all. Let me tell you, that was the worst hour of my life, I can't even describe the pain. But my adolescent reasoning was that it was my fault I had the cavity, so any pain I went through was deserved. Of course now I know that my dental hygiene is just fine and it's really my genetics to blame. So goodbye brave front, hello chemical oblivion.

Some women, and a lot of men, claim that period cramps don't exist. Those women who've never experience the white hot pain of cramps truly think the rest of us are making it up (Sis.) But as I got older they only got worse, and just wishing them away or trying to be bigger then them, doesn't work. I would often become physically ill, cry, and basically writhe around in misery unable to even sleep.

I now always have Midol on hand. And when the joyous day someday arrives and I'm delivering my first baby; I will haul my fat sweaty bloated body out of bed, hunt down, and kill the doctor unless he agrees to inject drugs into my spine. Because if what I feel for two days a month is only a small percentage of the pain I'll feel during labor, it's little wonder married men say they rarely get laid.

Strippers, Singing, and Reporters in Liederhosen

All at one TV station.

I'm constantly asked how I'm liking my new J.O.B. (job in laymen's terms.) The first month in Toledo and I wasn't happy about it, mostly I was unhappy because I was new and felt like I didn't know anything (lack of knowledge is a big fear of mine.)

During my second month I was adjusting, but still feeling a major disconnect with my co-workers. And now in my third month I am respected for my work, but still don't feel close to my fellow TV workers. However they are an entertaining bunch.

Let's start with the Leiderhosen wearing Reporter. When I first met Rob I did not realize he worked at my station. But then again he was wearing suspenders with shorts and a jaunty green cap that had a feather sticking out. Oh, and did I mention he was Clog Dancing? I treated him like a yolkel who'd never seen a wireless mic before, boy was my face red when I learned who he was. But it was an honest mistake.

As long as I can remember I've worked or been around artists of all sorts. Singers, Dancers, Actors, Musicians, Painters, Photographers, Writers... etc, basically I'm used to being around creative people. I even worked at Walt Disney World where perkiness and enthusiasm were job requirements. But imagine my surprise when I discovered the "Friday Song," a mandatory event at work. It goes something like this :

"Cheer-up cheer-up Friday's here. Friday's here cheer-up! I'm glad it's Friday, you're glad it's Friday, so cheer-up cheer-up cheer-up !"

Yup, they gather everyone in a circle and sing/chant this little Anthem about a half-hour before the 5pm show every Friday. Needless to say this is beyond even me. And I haven't yet had the pleasure, but apparently there is a "Monday Song" as well... I shudder at the thought.

Despite this social anomaly of happy togetherness, the Newsroom is actually very similar to my old station. Even some of the same characters inhabit both places.

There is the Kaci-like P.A. who can kick ass and save the show, all in high-heel boots and perfect hair. The Proctor-clone who delights in showing me disgusting photos on his phone. The lumbering Kelsey wanna-be who insists he knows everything, but who everyone dislikes for his ineptitude. I could go on but you get the point.

Despite this I still haven't made any major connections to my co-workers. No after work get togethers, no gossip about station business, and no smoker's circle. To be fair I work mornings so the get-togethers are nearly impossible. I don't know enough people yet to even understand the gossip. And no one "hangs" outside because of the bums and hookers.

Maybe I'm just not giving myself enough time. It's only been three months, yet I guess I expected to have a group of work buddies by now. It seemed so easy to make friends in Lansing, and I didn't even live there, so why am I having problems with new friendships in Toledo?

When I started at FOX in Lansing I was already friends with a Photog. He had been there long enough to make his own friends and by simply knowing him I was more readily accepted. After only two months at FOX, we were all fired, which created a stronger bond and general comrade during the last month of our employment.

Then I went to NBC with a half-dozen of my FOX people. Even though we eventually made our own connections to the people there, at the start we had each other (and the booze) to fall back on. So really I have very little experience striking it out on my own. If I were on a different shift at my current station it may be easier for me since one of my former FOX peeps actually works there. But I've only seen him twice and we weren't super close anyway.

It all comes back to missing my Lansing friends. Who, if I think back carefully, only became REALLY close with me shortly before I left. But by the time I did leave I had all these great people to hang with and count on, I miss that a lot. I know it's not realistic, but I was hoping for something similar here. Maybe it just means this isn't the place I'm meant to be in the long run, and that's why the fit isn't quite right.

Oh, and the Stripper? He's a camera operator on the morning show. He's also a Bartender and a Personal Trainer. Oddly he's not very popular at the station. I only know about his stripping because I found him on MySpace where he advertises his services www.exposedstrippers.net I won't share his name, but he's on there. Yummy!