The Viewing Of This Movie Is PG-13

What! Oh my gosh! Ahhh! So sweet!!

Hi, my name is McKenzie, and I’m a reactor.

I've decided that the next time I go see a movie, regardless of the rating, I am going stand up and issue a caution. I feel it is everyone’s right to know that I will be “that girl.” Yes, it’s true. I gasp, I sigh, I scream. I am what you would call “a reactor”. Whatever emotion the movie is trying to ignite inside its audience members, I am probably feeling. And I will make it known.

Here’s my defense: I can’t control it. I love movies. I love everything about them. I succumb to the "willing suspension of disbelief.” I invest. When I start watching a movie in a theater, my other senses subside and I get tunnel vision. I cannot vouch for my behavior once the previews begin.

And truthfully, at $12 a ticket, why not invest?

Tis' The Season

When a homeless man rejects your food donation, is it time to reconsider your eating habits?

Today on the subway there was a very large man begging for food or money. I didn’t end up eating the lunch I brought and thought (since I had no cash in my wallet) that giving him my lunch would be the Good Samaritan thing to do…until I actually gave it to him.

I had brought rice cakes and hummus for lunch. I was very excited. I thought it was a good lunch. However, the look on his face was more like, “What the fuck is this? Are you really about to hand me your rice cakes and hummus?”

Yes I was, and yes I did. I’m sorry it wasn’t McDonald’s, which upsets my stomach too much.

Weather Report

I went to school in the south for a reason.

While anticipating my wonderfully exciting first day of work, the morning’s weather report said it was going to be 70 degrees, and I believed it. *I envisioned myself running around the city with a light coat on, chuckling with my fellow cast and crew about the idiosyncrasies of this thing we call life.

I should remind myself that NY is not South Carolina. When the day’s forecast says it’s going to be 70 degrees, that really means it’s going to be 55 and raining, and the light sweater you thought would be fine, is now turning into a wet suit.

*Best read with a British accent

Awesome Blog : )

I just discovered this blog. It's wonderful and could not encompass my feelings more. I hope you enjoy and that it makes you smile.

http://1000awesomethings.com/

Liberty and Justice for All

If all ten-years-old's were like this...the world would be a more equal and entertaining place. My favorite part: the proud and amused dad.

It's Like Deja Vu All Over Again

As a directionally challenged person living in NYC, it can get slightly daunting... and by slightly I mean incredibly. However, ever since I moved here something weird is happening.

Every time I go to a new area for the first time, I am there again with the next three days for an entirely different reason. And it’s not just that I’ll go to the same borough twice in one week, it’s literally the same street.

At first I thought it was just a coincidence, but it's happened over eight times now! Maybe it’s the universe’s way of saying, "Look McKenzie, we know you get lost A LOT. Here, this will make your life a little less complicated. Enjoy!"

So I say, “Thanks universe! I owe ya one.” Maybe now’s a good time to look into astronomy.

Crayon’s Away!

When a kindergarten class was asked, “Who in here can draw?” every child eagerly raised their hand. When that same question was posed to a graduating class of college seniors, less than have of the students raised their hand.

Why is that? The question was not, “Who can draw well?” or “Who in here could professionally sell their artwork?” It was simply “can you draw?”

Everyone should have raised his or her hand. Everyone can draw. Doodling on the corners of a paper completely counts, stick figures count, complicated line mazes count… it’s all drawing.

When we get older self doubt becomes ever more present and suddenly we find ourselves turning off areas of ourselves that are creative simply because we don’t think we “can.” Physically, you can do almost anything: Draw. Sing. Dance.

Just because you might not do those things well doesn’t mean you should ever stop doing them.

I can't stop laughing...

Put On A Happy Face

The newest American Express commercial puts a smile on my face because it reminds me so completely of my Aunt Valia. You see, Valia made a habit of finding faces is everything. And once she pointed out the face…that was it. It was done. Never could I look at that object again seriously.

I’ll never forget the first time I bought an expensive purse. I was in high school, it was sixty dollars, and I had been visiting it in the window of an art gallery (weird, right?) for at least two weeks before I actually made my purchase.

The day I bought it I came home beaming. Buying this purse was my effort to become more adult, more civilized, and I thought I accomplished that. Enter my beloved Valia.

The second she saw my new “sophisticated” purse, I knew what she was thinking. Quickly, I exclaimed, “Don’t say it! I know what your thinking! It doesn’t have a funny face!” She started to laugh, point out how cute the purse was, and get the look she gets. I was so upset. My big adult investment was dissolving before my eyes.

I’ll never forget how bad she felt afterwards, and then subsequently how bad I felt getting mad at such a ridiculous thing. Since then, we had a lot of laughs over that dumb purse. And she was completely right, my purse did have a face, it looked like Squidward : )

And in case you haven’t see this wonderful commercial…enjoy!

Um, Can We Try That Again?

Last night I watched Baz Luhrmann’s version of Romeo & Juliet. And again last night, like always, I yelled at my television…loudly.

Why is it that this Shakespeare tragedy gets me so mad? I know how it ends!

Yet, every time I watch the movie, like clock work, I shout things like, “Why didn’t the priest just wait for Romeo to come to the chapel and tell him it was a hoax?!” or “If Romeo had talked one minute longer he would see Juliet wake up!” or “Stupid Balthasar! He messes everything up!”

It’s funny how masochistic watching this movie becomes. I willingly sit through the beauty of them meeting for the first time, get married, play in the sheets…almost forgetting how it all plays out (no pun intended).

Only to have the last ten minutes turn me in a puddle. Oh Shakespeare, what have you done to me?

A Very Special Blog

I need to take a serious moment.

Last Wednesday I lost my aunt Valia to pancreatic cancer. It’s hard trying to put into words what she meant to me because anything I type seems trivial. She was my best friend, my cheerleader, and my rock.

I want to dedicate this blog to Valia. Her unconditional love is something that kept me writing, even when I felt there was nothing to say. She made me feel like everything I wrote was Pulitzer worthy (even when I knew it wasn’t).

I truly feel blessed to have had such a amazing presence in my life. I think of her every day and am who I am because of her.

Thank you Valia for teaching me what love truly is.

Who's Really Suffering...

Protect Insurance Companies PSA from Will Ferrell

Down, But Not Out

Part of the reason blogging had been slow was due to the fact that I was in the process of applying to the NBC Page Program. Over the last eight months I actually made it into the running. I passed the email screening! Yay! I passed the initial interview! Yay! I had my panel interview! Um, can I do that again?

Unfortunately, I got a friendly letter from the Page Program suggesting that despite my five years of preparation and constant blood sweat and tears (too dramatic?) it would be best if I pursued other opportunities. Wait, what!

It’s okay…I’m okay. After much thought, I realized that the Page People were right and I was not the best fit for their program. No hard feelings and all is well again!

Cue secondary rejection letter!

A month after my first rejection letter, I receive an email stating yet again: “Unfortunately, we will not be extending an offer to you.”

Just when I had come to terms with everything, a beautiful unsolicited little reminder pops into my inbox. Thanks!

Leave Me Speechless

When Kelly Clarkson won American Idol seven years ago, my life was good. When I discovered Adele about a year ago, my life was made better. So imagine my glee when both Kelly and Adele were announced as part of the 2009 VH1 Diva's! My two favorite singers on one stage...I might burst with excitement!

In honor of both women, I'm posting my favorite songs from each. Please enjoy because I certainly do!

Adele -- To Make You Feel My Love (Bob Dylan Cover)

I love this video because you can tell she is singing live by all of the clicking and noises around the room. With a the overproduced music out now, it's nice to let the voice speak for itself.

Kelly Clarkson -- Up To The Mountain (Patty Griffin Over)

A beautiful song through and through. Kelly just hits it out of the park and proves once again why she will be one of the greats.

Huston, We Have A Problem

My roommates are gonna hate me. Actually, I take that back. My DVR is going to hate me.

This week marks the beginning of premier session and there are a lot of shows I want to record...so I wrote them down. There’s just one problem, there are only 24 hours in a day.

Glee, 9 p.m. (Fox)

The Vampire Diaries, 8 p.m. (CW)

The Jay Leno Show, 10 p.m. (NBC)

One Tree Hill, 8 p.m. (CW)

The Biggest Loser, 8 p.m. (NBC)

Community, 9:30 p.m. (NBC)

The Office, 9 p.m. (NBC)

Parks and Recreation, 8:30 p.m. (NBC)

Saturday Night Live: Weekend Update Thursday, 8 p.m. (NBC)

Accidentally on Purpose, 8:30 p.m. (CBS)

Cougar Town, 9:30 p.m. (ABC)

Eastwick, 10 p.m. (ABC)

Modern Family, 9 p.m. (ABC)

Flash Forward, 8 p.m. (ABC)

Grey's Anatomy, 9 p.m. (ABC)

Saturday Night Live, 11:30 p.m. (NBC)

Brothers & Sisters, 10 p.m. (ABC)

Sherri, 7 p.m. (Lifetime)

Ugly Betty, 8 p.m. (ABC)

30 Rock, 9:30 p.m. (NBC)

Southland, 9 p.m. (NBC)

Friday Night Lights, 9 p.m. (The 101)

Cut. It. Out

Here’s the thing…I love haircuts!

Whenever I walk out of a salon, suddenly, nothing seems impossible. Curing cancer…done! Global warming…stopped! AIDS epidemic…over!

However, I must give caution to anyone standing within a 6ft. radius of myself on haircut day: duck. Often times I get so animated (as a result of my haircut glee) that I end up throwing my arms in the air and hitting an innocent passerby.

That said, I would like to issue a formal apology to the girl standing outside Starbucks today; I did not mean to hit you in the face…twice.

Good thing I can only afford to cut my hair once a year.

Take Time To Volunteer

I’m a firm believer in the GOODNESS of volunteering. Taking time out of one’s busy schedule to lend a hand to those in need. However this is not what I HAD in mind when I was sitting in the audience of a comedy show entitled Ninja Sex-Party (I know, classy).

For the grand finale a female presence was required on stage. With no woman raising her hand, I felt bad and decided it was time to give my time. I should have thought longer.

Question: when a grown man, dressed in a Chinese Dragon Silk Robe, begins to undress and serenade you about explicit bedroom activities, where are you supposed to look?

Answer: not at him.

Terrified there was nothing under the his robe, my eyes locked with the back of the room and did not stray, not for a second. I managed to get through the entire song without assaulting my eyes. However, I did not realize how formal the event became. I was informed later that a fancy tuxedo thong was indeed under the robe. Does this mean I was under dressed?

The Intermission Is Over

Long time no post!

I know, I'm sorry. Searching for jobs has gotten in the way of my blogging duties. But enough dwelling on the negative!

I recently discovered this cover of Taylor Swift's Love Story, sung from Romeo's perspective. This guy's name is Gabe Bondoc and he has a very soothing voice. I also enjoy is take on a very girly song : )

Take it away Gabe!

Here Comes The Bride...

I have no idea what kind of ring I want, what kind of dress I want, or even what kind of groom I want. What I do know is how I want to walk down the aisle. Like this:

Confession Time

I have a confession to make…I cannot stop reading other peoples’ Twitter. I’ve become a Twitter Groupie. A Twitpie.

What can I say? I know that I’m a self-proclaimed Twitter-Quitter, and our breakup was mutual, but I still hold a special place in my heart for the little guy. Or bird.

And here’s the thing, I’m completely content with the fact that I stalk people. My feeling is that they want me to stalk them. That’s why they have a twitter.

Side Note: When searching for confessional pictures this was the least creepy one I could find.

Smooth Criminal

Not having a job and living in the city has done wondrous things for my free time. Most importantly however it has turned me into a trespassing criminal.

Last week I spent the day out and about in Manhattan. With the beautiful hustle and bustle that is New York, it can get a little loud and I longed for a place to read my book in peace. So, I got the idea to revisit the student center of a prestigious university, where I had lived last summer.

Since I am not a student, getting past the guard was going to be tricky. I walked in, asked to use the restroom, and then stealthily walked to the elevators. Taking the elevator to the second level, I walked out to the balcony, I opened my book, and began reading. Whew, that was close!

New York, what have you done to me?!

Laugh Away

I discovered this new comedian on an Ellen DeGeneres show. Enjoy!

Follow the yellow brick road…

Growing up I always envied Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Not because of her beautiful sparkly ruby red slippers... because of the yellow brick road.

As someone who is directionally challenged, the thought of having a personal yellow brick road that would lead me to my destination is amazing!

I just think how it would come in handy. Vacations, errands, restaurants, you name it and you’re there. Not to mention how glamorous you would feel! Who needs a red carpet when can have gold?!

I’ve heard of these so called location-helper-outers called GPS’s, but I don’t trust them. I mean you can’t really go about holding a GPS while walking down the street. It would look so awkward. I would much rather follow a yellow brick road, way less conspicuous.

If I was a rapper...

I would sound like this...

Say That Again?

My new thing is listening to my iPod while at the dentist. Personally, I like drowning out the sounds of the drilling, scratching, sucking saliva, etc.

But here’s my dilemma: I can never hear what the dentist is saying. I know it’s not because my volume is up too high because I keep it low. It’s the combination of my headphones plus his mask, making all words inaudible. The dentist has to realize that, right?

So here’s my question: when you’re lying in the chair with gauze pads and utensils in your mouth, why does the dentist feel the need to ask you more than just yes or no questions? Clearly, you cannot answer without sounding like Chewbacca from Star Wars. It makes no sense!

Word To The Exercise Wise

When getting on a treadmill and preparing to run, it’s important to take things slowly.

I went to the gym the other day for what I thought was going to be a nice refreshing workout. Unfortunately, when I got on the treadmill I rushed through the time, weight, intensity, speed, etc. The mill started treading and my legs were going faster and faster, and faster and faster…too fast, actually. Within seconds I was running like a bat out of hell and fearing for my life.

I looked down and noticed I had accidentally set the speed at 12! Smooth McKenzie, real smooth.

I forgot about the emergency stop button and had to catch up to the front of the machine to lower the speed. Eventually, I came to a stop and made a lousy attempt at trying to walk away inconspicuously because my legs were in fact noodles.

Moral of the story: emergency stop buttons are for people like me.

Career Switch?

With all of the doom and gloom surrounding the fate of our world, I found it interesting to note that the three recession-proof industries are:

1. Entertainment – We may have lost our jobs, homes, and cars, but at least giant transforming robots are not trying to take over the planet...again. (Whew, dodged that bullet)

2. Make-Up – We may be going down, but at least we’ll look good doing it!

3. Alcohol – What recession? My vodka and pineapple juice tastes great!

Thank You Ellen

Upon graduating, this is what I want to hear.

That's A Wrap

This is one of my favorite endings to a season ever. Kudos to Bill Lawrence (creator of Scrubs) for finding a unique way to wrap things up.

In this final scene, J.D. fantasizes about the future.


Song: The Book of Love by Peter Gabriel
Episode: 8x18: My Finale

The Highlighted Life

After 18 years of schooling, here are some things my estimated $150,000 education taught me:
1. I’m not allowed to own highlighters.
2. Highlighting an entire page defeats the purpose of highlighting in the first place.
3. Highlighting everything BUT the important lines is not an effective way to study either.
4. The Blue highlighter is soothing to the eyes, and therefore helps you retain the information better.
5. Pink highlighters mean “Party time!,” on the page that is.
6. Orange and Green should not have been made into highlighters, they’re just awkward colors.
7. Neon Yellow is, and will always be, my favorite.
8. Skinny highlighters make me feel more studious.
9. There is nothing more satisfying than seeing a page or study guide covered in different colored highlights.
10. Top 10 lists are always a classy way to conclude an era.

I should have paid more attention to Home Alone…

After getting my eyebrows waxed, my sister and I made our way to make-up madhouse Sephora. A day of beauty commences!

Their stores have tons of stations with cotton balls, make-up remover, and rubbing alcohol, so you can play with make-up all day.

While walking around the store I decide it would be a good idea to clean my eyebrows-- keep in mind they’ve just been waxed. I was not thinking things through. I took a cotton ball, put rubbing alcohol on it, and then proceed to swipe it across my brow. Yeah, putting rubbing alcohol on the part of my face that has just had a million hairs ripped from their follicles was a brilliant idea.

What then followed was the scene from Home Alone where Macaulay Culkin puts on his dad’s aftershave and begins screaming… the day of beauty ceases.

Do You Trust Me?

Whenever I sign up for something online, or buy concert tickets online, there is always a security code: A random bunch of letters and numbers thrown together, that I must retype into a little box, so the computer thinks I’m not a machine (ironic?).

I would just like to say, as a dyslexic, I hate that stupid box. I find myself rechecking the letters three or four times to make sure I didn’t mess up the non-word. Why can’t the Internet just trust me? I’m a real person.

A Gaythering Storm

"They'll dance at us...and it'll be choreographed. It's be good."

A Gaythering Storm from Jane Lynch

Physiology of a Hot Beverage

When playing against a hot drink in the game of life, I never win. Ever.

It’s Monday morning. The air outside is brisk and the temperature is just cold enough that walking into a coffee shop and ordering a steaming cup of anything, is a good idea. I go up to the counter and order a small hot chocolate. Baby steps…I’ve been burned before.

However, as soon as that small paper cup is filled with liquid goodness, I accept this little beverage back into my life, all is forgiven! I take a small cautionary sip. Nothing happens. Victory!

At this point I get too cocky and take a larger sip. Not to self: stay humble. Realizing my mistake only after I’ve taken the gulp, the scalding hot chocolate is making it’s way down my tongue and throat, talking out everything in it’s way (my taste buds included).

This is why I order smoothies in the dead of winter.

Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs

One of my favorite childhood books is now being made into a movie. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I mean they didn't even ask for my permission.

Disney Knows How To Pick'em

I cannot get Demi Lovato's new album out of my head. It's catchy and fun and has a hint of Regina Spektor in it. Yes, I am aware she is 16 and from Disney but I don't care.

The girl can sing, here's proof.

Color Me Good

Just like bagels and numbers, I have a thing about colors. Whenever I see a rainbow, it reminds me of high school. Here’s why:
-- White, Red, Pink, Orange, and Yellow are the girls.
-- Green, Blue, Purple, Brown, and Black are the boys.
-- White and Black are the adult authority figures.
-- Red and Blue are the quintessential All-American couple.
-- Yellow and Green are the slightly awkward best friends who’ll realize they’re in love with the other in about 5 years.
-- Orange and Purple are also best friends, but will not fall in love with one another, seeing as they’re interested in their own gender ; )
-- Pink is Red’s little sister.
-- And lastly, Brown is everyone’s grandpa.

Absolutely Lovely

Easy Listening

Question: Why is it that we take custody over musicians we are fans of?
The sense of ownership I feel toward certain artists is absurd…it’s as if I personally discovered them! I’ve usually done nothing except buy their album. However, that never stops me from staking my claim in their success.

So, let me introduce you to my latest discovery: Priscilla Ahn.
Her mesmerizing vocals allow you forget how painful some of her lyrics are. It’s also hard to take what she sings too seriously because it sounds like a lullaby.

Gems to Download: "Opportunity To Cry" and "A Good Day"

F.I.A = Fate In Action

Have you ever had one of those moments where you can see fate working? When the moment feels bigger than just sheer coincidence?

For example: on a flight home from a tame Spring Break, I sat next to a familiar looking woman who was reading over scripts. Turns out she was an executive producer of Army Wives, a show I had interned for last fall. We ended up talking the entire time and she gave me wonderful career advice, as well as her card.

The entire time we were talking I just kept thinking, “what are the odds?” And that’s the thing…the odds are too great. So I chalk it up to fate and consider myself lucky to have witnessed it.

It’s Not Me, It’s You

I have a confession to make: I’m a Twitter* quitter. (whew, now I feel better.)

I broke up with Twitter less than 12 hours after we made it official. The problem was it was too needy, always having to know what I was doing every moment of the day. Frankly, that’s too much of a commitment. I need my space. I understand there are millions of people who have fulfilling relationships with their Twitter…I am not one of them.

There are only a limited number of hours in a day, which have to be divided among e-mailing, Facebooking, texting, calling, surfing, watching Youtube, etc. I cannot handle one more thing I have to update or check.

We might be able to reconcile and get back together in the future but I can’t make any long-term commitments right now. I will say this: it was good while it lasted. Wait, who am I kidding? No it wasn’t, that’s why I quit.



*Twitter is a social networking and micro-blogging service that allows its users to send and read other users' updates (known as tweets), which are text-based posts of up to 140 characters in length.

Ha ha ha...ouch!

Have you ever hit your knee's equivalent of your funny bone (the place right above your knee cap)?


I just did. I was awkward and funny all at the same time.

Finish this…

While walking down a busy New York City street, my friend Katie and I over heard a guy say to the girl he was with, “Just so you know, me being friends with you...” We didn’t catch the end of the sentence, but it did prompt a whole new game! What could he have possibly ended that sentence with?

“Just so you know, me being friends with you...is only a temporary thing.”
“Just so you know, me being friends with you...really boosts my ego.”
“Just so you know, me being friends with you...is my way of doing community service.”

The possibilities are endless! So I urge you: listen in on the conversations of passers-by—it can provide endless amounts of fun…and it’s free!

Under the Sea

If I were going to one of the most glamorous event of the year...
I would definitely make sure my dress had gills.

It’s Okay To Laugh

While riding the Metro the other day, I almost fell over leaning against one of the metal poles. Fortunately, and awkwardly, I caught my balance, then looked across to the seat facing me to see a guy smiling and looking down. I wanted to go up to him and say, “I know that was hilarious right?”

Here’s the thing, unless someone is visibly hurt from tripping or falling…laugh! Tripping and falling are funny because it is a moment completely void of composure. Picture Barack Obama tripping—you can’t help but laugh!

So I say if you’re the one falling, Ham it up! Be dramatic! People are watching. And if you’re the one watching it’s okay to laugh out loud. Chances are karma will have you tripping soon after.

Be Mine...Um, No Thanks

Nothing says "I love you" better than cheep chalk tasting candy hearts. Ah, tis’ the season.

Favorite Candy Heart Sayings:
CALL ME – um, how about Facebook you? That’s easier.
HOW NICE – who is writing this? Our moms? “How nice dear, now go wash up for dinner.”
BE GOOD – that’s no fun.
LOVER BOY – are we remaking that scene from Dirty Dancing and you forget to tell me?
E MAIL – who?
CALL HOME – I think you’re mother is trying to tell you something.
MARRY ME – too risky man, what if she eats it before reading it?
FAX ME – um, 1995 called and they want their electronics back.
GET REAL – If I were getting rejected I would definitely want it to be on a piece of candy.

Getting Schmeared.

Bagels are a complicated species. I say complicated because they suffer from an identity crisis, identifying themselves with both breakfast and lunch, or brunch. They can’t just choose, it’s too hard. Then there is the breakdown of each type of bagel and what its purpose in life is.

First you have the plain bagel, or what I like to call “the clutch bagel.” You can depend on this bagel and it won’t let you down. It goes with anything you put on it: cream cheese, jelly, butter, lunch meats, egg, tomato, etc. It doesn’t know the word discrimination.

Then you have the Onion bagel. Popular, but not everyone's favorite. You have to be careful though because if rejected it gets very emotional and has a tendency to feel like a poor little lump of dough. It will probably sit in a corner somewhere crying as much as the person who peeled the onions it wears.

Then you have the pumpernickel. This is a very specific type of bagel. It does not have a large fan base, but its fans are dedicated. Mainly sticking to the cream cheeses and lunch meats, this bagel should not venture into the world of sweeter schmears, but it’s okay with that.

Speaking of sweet, this brings us to the cinnamon raisin bagel. With the sweet raisins and cinnamon aroma this just screams, “I’m happy!” How could you ever be mad at bagel like that? (on the other hand if you are actually mad at a bagel there might be underlying issues that need to be addressed).

Lastly, you have the everything bagel. One word: overachiever.

The Light of Day

It's funny how you can find ANYTHING on the internet these days.
Case-in-point: my acting debut (I'm the one wanting the bottle).

The Notebook…no Kleenex necessary!

(Note: If you haven’t seen The Notebook and do not want the ending ruined, stop reading.)

There is only way to watch The Notebook: fast forward though all of the old people parts and stop the movie when Allie (Rachel McAdams) finally chooses Noah (Ryan Gosling) and he wraps her in a big blue blanket.

The only things you end up missing are watching the old Allie say, “Who are you? I should remember. Why don’t I remember? Read to me.” And the old Noah saying, “You don’t remember me? How can you not remember me? I built you a freakin’ house! Okay, I’ll read.”

It’s shorter, sweeter, and think of all the money you’ll save on Kleenex!

Can he wear this every day?

(Courtesy of pinkisthenewblog.com)

Please Pass the Kleenex

Today is a very good day. I could not be prouder to live in the United States.

When Playing with fire…don’t.

I’ve always wanted to try one of those ear-wax candles, so I bought one. The instructions said to cut a hole in a paper plate so in case the wax drips it will not burn your face. I did not have a paper plate, but I did have coffee filters. That was my first mistake.

The instructions also said to make sure you do it with another person present so they can monitor how much more time you have. I did have a friend present, but she was reading. That was my second mistake.

Long story short, one of the ashes landed on the highly flammable filter and set it on fire. Completely unaware of this, I said, “Wow this is great! I can really feel the heat!” To which my friend replied, “OH MY GOD MCKENZIE IT’S ON FIRE!”

Frantically, I took the candle out of my ear (indeed it was on fire) and started stomping it with the nearest shoe. Then I poured water on it and completely extinguished the flames out. And then all was well.

So that was my day, how was yours?

Box It Up

Growing up, the beginning of the school year only meant one thing…a new lunch box. There was the Power Ranger lunch box. There was the Barbie lunch box. There was the Magic School Bus lunch box. There was the Power Ranger karate chopping Barbie on the Magic School Bus lunch box (not quite, but that would be funny). Picking a lunch box was a very big deal because you were stuck with it for the entire year.

Your lunch box selection was also a representation of you. One year I had a Lisa Frank puppy dog lunch box which clearly represented the fact that I was a starving artist who threw myself into my love of neon colors and my desire to moonlight as a veterinarian.

Now that I’m older, I understand it’s not professional to walk into work carrying a Care Bears lunch box. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want the option.

But it begs the question….if you could carry a plastic lunch box to work, what would be on your cover?

Rah-Rah Sis-Boom-Bah!

Attention everyone!

It’s time for cheerleading tryouts. The good news: you will be the judged. The bad news: you will also be the one auditioning. Final verdict: Congrats, you made the team!

Now the fun part! Pick one thing each day that you like about yourself. Repeat it to yourself before you leave the house and at least one more time throughout the day. Because…energy follows consciousness. People don’t have the time or the inclination to sit and analyze your energy. Therefore, they’re going to absorb what you project.

Might as well give them something positive!

It's A Numbers Game

Ever think about your favorite number? Why is it your favorite? What about your least favorite number? I know what you’re thinking, what's it matter? Well, let me tell you...numbers make all the difference.

Case in point: the year 2008, not my best. Potential reasoning: my least favorite number is eight. 1) It's an even number, I don't really like even numbers--too curvy. 2) It's ugly. Being OCD, I can never get the two circles to look right when I draw one fluid squiggle, which forces me to draw one circle on top of another. This takes up too much time.

I think subconsciously, seeing the number eight everyday had an affect. Seeing something you don't like everyday affects your mood, ever so slightly. But these times are a changing. It's finally 2009! And you can rest easy my friends because this is going to be a good year... I can feel it! Why? Because nine is a much prettier number than eight of course. And it's divisible by three, what could be better? : )

So, I say to 2009: "Welcome! It's good to see you!"