Film Still

I hate watching myself act. But here’s a film still. Photos seem so much less damaging to my ego.

From a short I did in November.

And We’re Live!

www.carlinadelson.com is officially up. Unfortunately, towards the bottom on a google search. Eventually these two URLs will merge.

The Boot

When I was a sophomore in college, I went to Paris with five of my friends for spring break. Like most girls born in the mid-to-late eighties (and even some in the early nineties), I romanticized this trip via my packing, not in the Carrie Bradshaw: the series finale way, but in the Mary-Kate and Ashley, straight-to-video travel the world series. The two went to London, Paris, Rome, the Bahamas, Australia … Utah … tell me if I missed one.

Housekeeping

Those of you who frequent the site may have noticed that “Here’s How I Got Here” and “Here’s Why You’d Hire Me” have vanished.

Well, it is with much excitement that I announce that my new site will officially be going live this week, and the very last thing to transition to my new internet home is the blog.

Get excited – it looks amazing, many, many thanks to Elizabeth and her company, Heart Monster. I can’t wait to reveal it!! Someone drink with me.

PS: I had a dream that Sherri Shepherd married my dad, only he was still married to my mom, and they all shared a bed, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory style, and that at bedtime, Sherri would just say “Bye” and turn the lights out, and I was really excited because my friend Cara is her girl in real life, and I was going to tell her, even though she probably already knew because Cara is in PR.

Million Dollar Epiphany

I just had a disturbing epiphany: as I was watching a Millionaire Matchmaker marathon, I got completely sucked in when Zagros took Teal on a date to an exotic animal nature reserve. I knew it wasn’t going to end well, because 1. I spent months with Beta tapes while at VH1 and I know how reality television is edited, and 2. he only likes models, and Teal showed up with her titties out … and she has a stripper name.

King of the Foursquare Court

I recently joined Foursquare, which is, as far as I can tell, a twitter for locations which happens to share the name of the one game I got absurdly competitive over as a fat kid.

I can already tell anyone intending to friend me once I post this, that this will be short-lived. My twitter account hasn’t seen any action in over a year; apparently I’m still on linked-in, and had absolutely no idea until I kept getting reminders to friend people back.

Leader of the Day

 

Leader of Tomorrow

I used to get off on that. In kindergarten, there was a rotation of every kid in the class, who was the Leader of the Day: their name was in bold under the blackboard, they were first in line to the park with their partner, the glamorous first lady or man…and I don’t remember any of the other perks. I was also always the first leader of the rotation because it was done by last names (even now I always look up expectantly when I’m in a scenario where a roll is called because I know I’m first, and if I’m not, fuck you, Adams).

Sup, Bitches?

Writer’s block and procrastination. Catchya later. Look at my cute face.

It’s one of those days…

I woke up with an ear splitting headache and hangover…and I didn’t drink last night. I got an awkward email from the director of admissions of a program I’m applying to saying she’s missing a sort of crucial form…because I sent it the day before I went on vacation and it was returned to me…during the two weeks I was gone, constantly patting myself on the back for being totally on my shit. My computer is basically arthritic and senile and has decided to reject every single one of my DVDs of my work, making it legitimately impossible to turn anything into any semblance of an acting reel. My favorite necklace is in such a bad knot, I need Maniac Magee to show up and fix it (Jerry Spinelli reference, I’m aging myself). I’ve already started my phone four times today, and have taken to spanking it when it freezes, rather routinely now – Verizon, please go iphone. It’s become pretty clear in the last week that dogs are sexually attracted to me. My left hand is no longer a virgin. My dad’s office assistant sent me an email with explicit directions to the nearest Kinko’s/Fedex, which is literally up the street from my apartment, unsolicited…because she seriously thinks I am retarded. I mean, let’s be realistic, I kind of am.

WordPress emailed me my stats for 2010, acting all congratulatory for my “success” as a “blogger,” and revealed that my site has received traffic most often for the googled terms “gossip girl,” “freud,” “the scream,” “oatmeal,” and “the hangover,” and so wordpress recommended I write more about these things to keep up my traffic. I did an additional screening and discovered that the other super common searched term was..”sexboys.” If you google “sexboys,” you get my blog. I don’t understand. At least there are some legitimate googles of “Carlin Adelson blog” and “Carlin Rich Adelson.” That gave me a self esteem boost for 25 seconds, until I remembered Bosco the black lab got my jeggings pregnant yesterday.

Happy New Year!

It’s like clockwork: we are four days into 2011 and I’m already planning my birthday which is … just under three months from now.

It’s like planning it will guarantee that nobody can forget it’s happening, which is simply impossible because of the amount I talk about it in the three months leading up to it. Mr. Mambu, my sort of homeless high school history teacher, asked me  for a detailed recap of my birthday the Monday following the weekend commemorating my expulsion from the uterus because it haunted his dreams, as he had to hear about it twice a day (he was also my study hall teacher) as I made a very audible count down at the end of every period. For three months. And I wonder why I’m not in touch with anyone from high school…