mollycoulter.com

I was crabby Saturday morning. My roommates and their two friends started tromping about the thin-walled house at 7:30 a.m. I said something.

I walked my friends’ dogs for almost two hours. We went to the dog park and I met some nice couples. I went to lunch solo and saw my old professor.

I went to a Press Club conference and remembered exactly why I never want to work for a daily paper again. One woman, who is the product of years of competition and self-obsession, was pleased to pronounce her four months of afternoon lunches with a group of people "paid off" when they gave her a tidbit to sniff out for a story.

I saw an old friend. I was happy to see him. I’m happy I don’t see him often.

I went to a kegger. I met people I didn’t know and had a blast. I left early because I didn’t want to wake up with a hangover. I still did.

I followed around a subject for a new story. I guess I can’t abandon journalism after all.

I smiled with someone who I hadn’t smiled with in a long time. It felt good. For both of us.

I lost a cat. I chased her around the yard, searched for her with a flashlight, coaxed her inside with a bowl of food unsuccessfully. I was starving and frustrated. I called her owners who told me to prop the window open. I cried on the phone.

I made dinner and fell asleep early. I ignored my roommates’ noise when they returned to our hostel/house and said "morning" to one before work today as I tip-toed past his friends asleep in our living room.

Rambo IV: COMING SOON

In honor of this beloved character and his upcoming return…

Teasle: What obsessed God in heaven to make a man like Rambo?
Trautman: God didn’t make Rambo, I made him!

Trautman: It’s over, Johnny. It’s over!
Rambo: Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don’t turn it off! You asked me I didn’t ask you! And I did what I had to do to win, for somebody who wouldn’t let us win! Then I come back to the world, and I see all those maggots at the airport, protestin’ me, spittin’, callin’ me a baby killer and all kinds of vile crap! Who are they to protest me?! Huh?! Who are they?! Unless they been me and been there and know what the hell they yellin’ about!

Today I noticed I have nearly 400 movies orderly listed in my Netflix Queue. Why? How on Earth will I ever have the time or desire to watch 400 movies? This after deleting all of the Sex and the City discs, Law and Order discs and deciding maybe even every episode of Mary Tyler Moore isn’t neccessary. Some people I know may have access to certain types of equipment that would facilitate a quick turn-around on deliveries, but I myself do not currently enjoy such behavior. I’m not condoning illegal use, nor am I condemning it.

But 400 movies? Seriously, what the hell for? At an average of two hours a piece, that’s 800 hours, or more than one month straight 24/7 of cinematic devotion.

Although, I hear some women are bed-ridden for pregnancy, so there’s hope for me after all. Sometime ten years from now, but hope nonetheless.

• I decided to take a trip to NYC to check out grad schools and visit friends. I cannot wait. And, by the way, it felt remarkably good to throw down a chunk of change for the plane tickets without planning ahead and without the aid of a credit card. Go me.
• I entered a fiction contest. First prize gets $300 and an impressive bullet on her graduate school application… Fingers crossed.
• I just ran into Mark Curtis, the NBC news anchor from the Phoenix station. He’s moderating a debate between John Kyl and Jim Pederson tonight in our studio. It was one of those unremarkable moments that still make you stop and say, "Wait a second. Did I just say hello to the guy from the news?"
• I discovered a childhood friend’s mother was murdered. The details are horrendous and I’m still in shock.
• I’m finally starting a new article for the Flagstaff Live! After a few months hiatus, I’m ready to call myself a pseudo-journalist again.
• Lori and I finished the Master Cleanse and I feel spectacular.
• My Halloween costume requires a big, blue, floppy hat. Anyone have any ideas? The (small) selection here in Flagstaff has left me empty-handed and it’s sort of the touchstone of my costume.
• Lots of people call my work extension on accident and I’ve been playing the role of NAU Central Answering Services all day. I’m thinking I ought to cop an accent and direct everyone to Dining Service or the Associated Students for Women’s Issues.

• The best way to lose weight is to call yourself a big loser and bawl on national television.
• Even ugly girls can be America’s next top model.
• The best things in life are always cancelled. (i.e. Arrested Development. I miss you, Jason.)
• If I’m ever in Seattle and hammered at 2 a.m., I’ll stop by Beth’s Cafe and order up an 8-pound, 12-egg omelet.
• If I ever decide to flip a house, I’ll invest in the kitchen and save on the backyard fence.
• Players are adorable men who just want to spread their love around to everybody, including nappy-haired white chicks and chain-smoking loonies.
• Dwarves make rad parents.
• Even if you hate your job, having a cute salesman to flirt with can make it enjoyable.
• You can work 80 hours per week in a Manhattan lawfirm and still have time for five casual lunches, two week night dates and a baby. Also, you can write 800 words per week, smoke cigarettes, drink expensive lattes and martinis and still have enough cash flow to put yourself up in a 6-room flat in Manhattan.
• In order to succeed in the real world you must be a gorgeous, drunk moron.
• If my future husband finds me repulsive at times, he can swap me.
• You don’t need any prior experience to become the head chef of a 5-star restaurant in Las Vegas. In fact, you can be an ex-con.
• The highlights of the day can be condensed into ten clips of men catching balls.
• The news serves two purposes: to omit useful information found in newspapers and to make you shit your pants.
• Lennie Briscoe and Jack McCoy are two bad ass mother fuckers.