Fort Works Art

This post was almost titled, ‘My Friends are Bad Ass’ but alas, I changed it. Although that title would have definitely worked. Lauren Childs, co-owner of Fort Works Art is a dear friend, and total bad ass. She is an amazingly talented artist, and I am so proud and over the moon excited for her and co-owner, and fellow Trinity Valley alum, J.W. Wilson for their contribution to the art scene in Fort Worth.

Fort Works Art held their grand opening last Friday. My jaw dropped when I walked in. The space is just gorgeous. Phenomenal. Full of light, the modern gallery designed by Brad Alford, is visually stunning. And then there is the art… The Artist featured, Riley Holloway, is a Hunting Prize finalist and figurative painter. This is Riley Holloway’s premiere exhibition, aptly titled, “The People I’ve Come to Know.”

“Holloway is best known for his dynamic work and fresh look at figurative art. His images are often accompanied by text and other personal references embedded within the work. ‘The People I’ve Come to Know’, showcases many large oil and charcoal wood on panel pieces, alongside a selection of small intimate drawings that include his friends and family as his subject matter. Holloway uses a bold painterly technique to create depth within the portrait. Holloway’s technique is undeniable and his content is rich in both drama and intimacy.”

Do yourself a solid and don’t miss this exhibit. Fort Works Art is located at 2100 Montgomery Street. (817)759-9475. Hours, Tuesday to Saturday, 10 to 4.


When the ship goes down, you better look around and see who is right beside you. Those who you spot with a life vest, in a dingy, mouthing you ‘Good Luck’ are ones to go ahead and mark off your Christmas card list. If you make it to next Christmas, that is.  Those that have vest on, and say, ‘Grab me, I got you!’ Those are the peeps you never let go of.

This was made very clear to me on a trip taken to Ambergris Caye in June, 2014. A trip that came to define my life. At least this particular era of my life. It started a year before, back in August 2013, when Alexa got married to her ‘lovie’ Jamie in a magical and mystical experience in Belize, complete with Woodland nymphs {oh wait, that was me}. There was a flautist, who we are all still convinced is Marc Anthony’s much less famous and talented brother. There was snorkeling with sharks, the amazing Palapa bar, where we could hang out in intertubes and get drinks lowered to us in buckets, or upstairs, where you could play your own playlist and twerk with the bartenders behind the bar. There was drunken sleuthing with Simone… My guess is, if Simone ever does go into business as a P.I., she will not call and offer Tracie, nor I, positions. It was the trip of a lifetime. So much so, that we could not stop talking about it. And six of us migrated back 10 months later…

Three couples. The lovely bride and groom, me and my then husband, and Ashleigh and Daryl. Some of Alexa’s good friends went down as well, and were staying in a condo just across from us.

Night one.

We get situated and immediately start looking for food and drinks. We have heard there is a place ‘just down the beach from us’ and we start off down the road. We found it, it was great. We met, what I am fairly confident is, a 10-year-old cocaine drug lord who is from America and whose parents own a breakfast joint just down the road. We decide to walk back closer to the beach on the way back, and just around the corner there are three men standing with machetes. I screamed and jumped towards the water. They never moved. We went back to our place and continued to drink. And then we decided to go have a dancing contest on the pier. It was then that a guy on his bike and an older gentleman come down our private pier with, a huge machete. I’m a little nervous at this point, but the old man, who offers a joint and says his name is Mr. P, calms my nerves a little. At least I’m now more confidant they aren’t planning to cut us up and feed us to the fish. Then the young guy explains they own a snorkeling company two piers down, and they were simply going to fish. I ask them where their fishing poles were, and they laughed. The young guy, Nahuel, pulled out a beer bottle, a string and some bait, and taught us how to fish without poles. Ashleigh makes plans around 4 am to go snorkeling ‘in the morning.’

At 10 am the last thing I feel like doing is getting on a boat. Our host show up with rum punch, which wasn’t going to sit well with me. Right after we pull away, I feel sick. Instead of returning me to the shore, my friends drop me off in the ocean. On a house boat. Nahuel assures me he knows the workers and ‘everything will go real smooth.’ I watch my friends get smaller and smaller as the boat drives off.  I can barely stand. I crouch down, where the water is meeting the floating vessel and start throwing up. Then a man comes to stand over me. My life starts to flash before me, and I’m sure this is not going to end well… He reaches down, and hands me a water. Tells me he hopes I feel better. I mean to say thank you, but roll over and puke instead. Several fish swim up to eat. My barf. Which makes me get sicker, which draws more fish. All I can here is the Jaw’s theme music playing over and over in my head, when, what feels like hours later, I finally hear the roar of the motor of the boat my friends are on. I am fairly convinced I have narrowly escaped death three times already, and start telling everyone we are about to be the topic of a Dateline story. Then I go on a long diatribe about how much I hate Stone Phillips and he better not be the anchor. I stand by that rant.

The following day we decide to relax and hang out at our favorite bar, the Palapa. It was at that bar that something in me changed forever. It started out with us girls joking around, a joke was taken the wrong way, and my husband did not find the joke amusing. At all. I started crying and went upstairs with the girls, who did what best girlfriends do best. They listened, we talked, the bartender who remembered us from twerking behind the bar a year earlier, came up and ask us if we wanted anything, and at 3 pm, we decided to order lunch. My husband came upstairs right about the time my hamburger was delivered. More fighting ensued, and Alexa, or maybe it was Ashleigh jumped up and said, ‘That’s ENOUGH! You will not speak to her like that!’ He went back downstairs and I will never forget looking out at that ocean. It was gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous. And my husband and I could not get along. At all. And just like that, I knew in an instant it was over and there was no going back. I started to cry and Alexa wrapped her arms around me. ‘Are you okay?’ ‘No. No I am not okay. If we can’t be happy together in paradise… It’s over.’ And it was. It had been for a long time, but for whatever reason, that moment in time, I knew there was no going back or ‘fixing’ us.

And I am in no way blaming my ex for anything, it was just a fight, we’d had millions of fights at that point, some were his fault, some were my fault, some were both of our faults.

And I can tell you this, I have about 6 friends who I know I could count on for anything. The kind who know all your secrets and love you even more because of them. Ashleigh and Alexa are two of those people in my life. Thanks for always being my life raft.



I saw a sign… Except I didn’t.

Have you ever thought… If only there was a sign from God. Or the guy at 7-11. Anyone… Just give me a sign. Before I got married, there were a *few* signs that maybe this union was not blessed by the stars. Here, are  just a few of those signs. Those that led up to the day of our wedding.

Our wedding was in Las Vegas. I wanted it to be in Bora Bora, or Saint Something, or Haiti, but my mother, who claimed I could plan the wedding I wanted when I had a girl and she was getting married, vetoed all my choices and chose Vegas. She claimed that because she  was paying for a decent portion of the wedding that she got to pick everything. Turns out, I didn’t have a girl, I had a divorce, so I guess I’ll get to plan my second wedding. It all worked out in the wash. *Sidenote, I did put my foot down when she was insisting I be married by not one, but several asian Elvis impersonators.

Funny story about my wedding date… I knew four girls getting married that day. Myself, and three girls from high school. To prove the divorce rate of 50:50, yes, two of the four couples are divorced, and two are still together. By the time I learned of the fourth girl getting married on the same day I was, it was practically an eye roll… I’d run into someone, see a diamond on their ring finger, and I’d say, “Let me just guess when you are getting married…” I was at Neiman’s, at a Barnaby party, {does Barnaby still exist?}, and I ran into my friend Erica. She showed me her diamond and told me she was getting married April 24th, and I replied, ‘who isn’t’ and told her about Laura and Leigh, also getting married that day, and how Leigh was already trying to steal a bridesmaid… “Well that won’t happen to me,” Erica laughed. “I’m not getting married here.” “Where are you getting married,” I ask. “Las Vegas.” “Where?” I enquired with enthusiasm. “Bellagio.” “What time?” I screeched. “8:00” “Erica! I am the wedding before you!” Yeah. How crazy is that? And she is one of the ones still married. Let me find the picture of us in our dresses…

Okay, back to the signs… I purchase the airline tickets for Vegas months in advance, of course, and even though it was way back in 2004 p.i.p. {pre iPhone} electronic airline tickets were still all the rage. But for some reason, we had paper tickets. I had tacked them to our bulletin board that had nothing  else on it in our kitchen. Unfortunately, when we were dropped off by my almost father-in-law at the airport, I had forgotten about those paper tickets, and we missed our flight. We had to go home to get said paper tickets to turn them in for other tickets and during that time, my cat Leah escaped and we had to leave for Vegas while she was outside. I cried the whole way back to the airport.

We get to the hotel to check in, and, an hour and a half later, we go to our room and my parents luggage is in it. They checked us in to my parents room. We go back downstairs and they check us into another, much smaller room then we were supposed to have, so they sent us to get our marriage license while they worked it out. We got our license by the same lady who issued Britney Spears hers y’all. Yet another sign. When we got back to the hotel I laid the marriage license on the desk in the room. Then they called to move us into our final room. I left the license on the desk. I called about an hour later when I realized this. It was gone. No trace of it. We had to go get a second license…

I think some of us see the first sign and get it. Some of us are beat over the head with signs and ignore all of them. For years. Decades. History will repeat itself until you change it yo.

Vanilla Ice and I are super tight.

I know this will come as a shock… but, I’m slightly dramatic. I was in theater in high school and prided myself on being a ‘drama queen.’ Some time after college I realized drama was not as fun as it was as a teen. I loved acting, and then when the ‘Real World’ came out, being on that show was a life time goal. First season in New York? You mean, Eric, Julie, Becky, Norman, Heather, Andre and Kevin? And no, I did not have to google that. My dream was shattered when I turned 28, as they would no longer cast anyone over 27. So basically I failed at life. I guess that is still a bit dramatic…

That being said, I have a thing for all things celebrity. It doesn’t matter if you are the local news anchor or Meryl Streep, I will have the same amount of excitement if I see you. Mainly because I feel I know you. I mean, I’ve read US Weekly for years now, so I feel like we are all friends. I’ve seen you carrying your groceries… ‘Stars are just like Us!’ We both put gas in our cars! Even though I see you on TV! That’s just crazy!!

One time in the Las Vegas airport, I ran down a group of ‘Bachelorette’ contestants just to say, “Aren’t y’all on the Bachelorette? I’m from Fort Worth, aren’t like, a bunch of y’all from Dallas?” I might have been drinking on the plane. Maybe. Turns out they were. And they were going to a ‘Bachelorette’ reunion. I think I said something like, ‘Neat, have fun. Guess I’ll go find my bag.’ Or something really cool like that.

I went up to Meg Ryan while she was eating dinner in New York. I know, I know… I was that person. But, we were having an argument at my table as to if it was actually her or not. Half the table thought it was, so naturally I had to find out. And, knowing how much celebrities, especially real ones, hate to be approached, especially when they are eating dinner with their high-school-age son… So I walked over and simply said, “I am so sorry to bother you, but I was just hoping you could settle an argument my table is having. Some of us thought you might be Meg Ryan, but I said, no, that woman is way too young to be her.” She busted out one of those Meg Ryan smiles {slightly different these days thanks to facial fillers} and we talked for a bit, she introduced me to her son and thanked me for the compliment, ask me about my trip… she was really nice. Flattery does get you everywhere.

So, about Vanilla Ice… My whole family was flying to Montana for vacation. It was 2004, and as we boarded the plane in DFW, I noticed someone was in my seat. My then husband was in front of me and was politely telling Ice he was in my seat. Turns out he was supposed to be on the aisle seat across from me. We sit down, my ex having no clue who he had just spoken to, and I quietly lean over and say… “Um, that is Mr. Ice. Mr. Vanilla Ice.” The ex is all, ‘Um, no it’s not’ and we go back and forth. I, naturally, start looking at his tattoos and writing them down so I can  verify when we get off the plane because said ex did not want me ’embarrassing myself’ by simply asking Mr. Ice a question. Finally, Vanilla falls asleep, AND BONUS, he was reading his mail. Awesome. I basically try a Matrix move balancing myself on my seat and air planking over his seat to see who it was addressed too. It totally said Robbie Van Winkle! Robbie too, not Robert. At this point I am slightly excited and lose my balance, almost slamming my head into Mr. Ice’s private parts. He never woke up. We never spoke. But when we were all getting off the airplane a bunch of guys started humming his big hit. And he turned around and gave a ‘wus up’ nod. {The nod also indicated that, much like when I tell someone I sell propane, and they say, ‘and propane accessories?’ Mr. Ice, looked like this was not the first time someone had busted out singing his one hit to him. Ice, I get you. I know how you feel man.} So that’s my Vanilla Ice story. I know, anticlimactic. Welcome to my life! What can I tell you, I’m a drama queen.

Propane and Propane Accessories

I have worked for my father, who owns his own business in wholesale propane, since 2000. And yes, when everyone ask what I do for a living and I tell them, they always say, without fail, “So you sell propane and propane accessories?” No. We sell propane, no accessories. We sell propane in quantities of 9000 gallons or more, so unless you have a grill from your uncle Jolly Green Giant, I can’t fill your grill tank, so don’t ask. I don’t even own a grill, but that’s another story.

One day I was at Neiman Marcus, buying the only thing I can afford there, mascara {and even that is questionable} and I ran into one of my mom’s old friends that I hadn’t seen in years. Clearly, because she had no idea I worked for my father. “So what are you doing these days?” Miffy ask, as only a ‘Miffy’ could. I leaned over and cupped my hand next to my mouth and loudly whispered, “I sell propane.” Miffy looked perplexed, but that didn’t shock me. So I continued… “Yeah, I started working for my dad awhile back when I was finishing school, again {why go to grad school when you can go back for a second undergrad?} and I didn’t think I’d like it, but I started to really like it, and…” “Excuse me dear,” Miffy placed her hand on mine. “What did you say you do again?” “Wholesale propane.” “Oh!” Miffy’s face relaxed and she started laughing. I thought you said you wholesale COCAINE.” We both laughed hysterically. When I caught my breath I mused… “On second thought… I’d be making a lot more money… do you have a wholesale hook up?” That was years ago… and I stand by my ground I’d be making a lot more money if it was, indeed, cocaine.

Fort Worth Fit Body Boot Camp Grand Re-Opening

Fort Worth Fit Body Boot Camp, run by owner Toni Lacey, is having it’s grand re-opening this Saturday, April 9th from 9:00 a.m. until noon. If you have ever thought about trying out a boot camp, this is your chance! The talented staff is going to be running mini work out sessions in increments of 15 minutes, and in addition to that, they are giving away a ton of cool stuff! Free memberships, a free ‘challenge’ {trust me, you want to get in on this. The challenge that members participated in during January netted a group loss of over 800 lbs!} And one of my favorite things about these workouts… they are 35 minutes and change daily. You can’t possibly get bored, and talk about muscle confusion! Not only are they raffling off gym memberships, but there are tons of other giveaways, free food, and a bounce house, so bring the kids. It’s going to be so much fun!

I want to tell you a little more about Toni. She is from Canada and she is a red-head. These two things alone make her totally awesome, but it gets even better. She is so positive, and radiates that positive energy to all of her clients. And what a story she has… here it is, in her own words.

“My Why for what I do started in December of 2007. I joined my first gym ever when we moved here, to meet people. I was super lonely moving from Canada leaving my friends and family. What happened that next year was the start of my passion of fitness. In that year I lost 50 pounds, felt amazing, confident and I became very secure with who I was. I had found a happy place. I started to teach group fitness classes and went on to become a Personal Trainer. I was so happy, I felt great and completely loved what I was doing. Then in 2011 I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, this was a very difficult time for me and my family. I went from a healthy, active life too not being able to walk, not being able to live the life that I loved, the way I wanted too. I was very angry and mad. I felt very sorry for myself and did not think it was fair. I couldn’t understand why this happened to me because I had done everything right, I was healthy, I had lost all this weight. I let all those feelings take control of my life. I spent a lot of time on face book sites for groups for Multiple Sclerosis (this just put me in a worse place with self-pity, most of the people on there had given up just like me.) One day something changed in my heart, I wish I would have journaled so I could remember how this happened. I do believe it was the good Lord giving my head a shake. This is where my why changed. I so wanted to be the great Mom and awesome wife that I used to be. I was sick and tired taking the back burner and not being there for my family. This is where I started to read and research like a crazy women. Prior to living with MS, I was quite content with the knowledge I had and content in the life I lived.This is where I realized I had to make changes. These changes started in my head. I changed my thought process from letting Multiple Sclerosis control my life to “I am gonna kick MS in the a$$”. Through my powerful thought process and changing my food I started to regain my life back. The anger, hate and self pity started to go away. I slowly returned to the gym and made it back up on stage teaching group fitness. I have never looked back. This is where the second part of my WHY comes in and how Fit Body Boot Camp came about. You see the gym I belonged to was a close-knit community. I knew everyone and they had seen what I had gone through. For them to see me push through and return gave people so much hope and inspiration. I realized then that my why was also to Help and inspire people. I honestly believe things happen for a reason and that God has put me exactly where I am supposed to be. I am supposed to help people like you guys. Do i still have tough days….Hell ya. Do I have days I want to quit…Hell ya. Do I still get angry…Hell ya. But when I get those thoughts and get control of them and stop ’em out. I look back and think my journey and really how awesome its been. Never easy but worth every moment of it. Life can be hard, but it is worth every minute. No matter how hard you are hit(cause dang it life can hit hard sometimes) Don’t stay down get up and keep pushing. Life is to short and so precious.”


After reading that, don’t you just want to meet this fiesty and vivacious person? Well lucky you, you get your chance tomorrow morning! Please come and share in this great {and free} experience. What have you got to lose except some pesky pounds?

Fort Worth Fit Body Boot Camp, 6489 Southwest Blvd., Benbrook, TX 76132. (682)704-9698.


Did that just happen?

Wow. I’m blown away. I started this blog a week ago, and by day three I had been contacted by a high school classmate that works for Fort Worth Weekly. He said he had read my blog {all two of the post} and was curious if I would like to blog for them. After I jumped up and down and Facebook{ed} all about it and called everyone I know as if I had just gotten engaged, again, or an Oscar… I replied and said, Yes. Yes I would be interested. They even said they would pay me. That’s crazy. But I’m fairly crazy… so I guess it works. I cannot wait until I get to start. I’m slightly overzealous. And by slightly I mean I want to turn in a piece tomorrow. They are not in a rush, but I am so like, feeling like a teenager with my first crush, I just had to shout it out to the world!!! Okay… I must act cooler… I must act cooler… That’s a tall order for me. Hmph.

Stranger Danger

 This… Is Luke. He is my oldest. He is a lot like his mama… Stubborn. Fearless. Mischievous. Sweet when he wants to be, and pretty darn funny sometimes. He wants to be a YouTuber, or a scientist when he grows up {which he did not get from me}, and he constantly keeps me on my toes.

When he was four, I thought I should probably talk to him about ‘stranger danger.’ So I sat him down on the couch, and told him we needed to talk. I gave him the standard ‘stranger danger’ speech, the whole, they might have candy, or they might ask you to come help them find their missing puppy, they might tell you they have a toy for you if you come with them to their car, and you are never to go with someone you don’t know, no matter what they tell you they will give you, or ask you to help with… And Luke interrupts me and jumps off the couch, clearly missing my point, and goes, “Mom! Are you serious?! Strangers will give me candy and toys?!” he exclaims with jubilation as he goes to get his shoes and socks, “Come on mom! We better go find us some strangers!” I again {attempted} to explained that the point of the story was to not go with strangers, not to actively try and seek them out. Luke shrugged and walked off, and I assumed that was that.

A couple of days later, we were at the grocery store checking out and Luke keeps eyeing the person behind us. He looks at the person, looks back at me… “Mom, is that a stranger?” “Yes Luke,” I say, nodding to the man behind us. Luke turns back around, “Say stranger, you got any candy?” “No,” says stranger looking slightly confused. Luke shakes his head and then ask, “Well, do you have any toys for me?” The stranger starts laughing at this point and Luke, looking annoyed, turns back to me… “Mom… This stranger’s got nothing.” I can only classify this as #epicparentingfail

Local Foods Kitchen

Local Foods Kitchen, aka, my grocery store, is simply amazing. If you haven’t had time to check it out yet, you must. A little over 10 months old, It’s tucked away right off Hulen on Hartwood drive in Fort Worth, and it’s like a little piece of Heaven. I found out about it on Facebook, and, at a time when my kitchen was being re-modeled last summer, it was the perfect place to pull right upfront and run in and grab dinner. It’s a farm to market spot, and, well look… I took a few pictures from tonight when I was grabbing my dinner and talking to owner and friend, Katie

It’s so stinking farm to market precious, and Oh my gosh y’all… it’s so tasty! They have a chef’s case stocked with items that change monthly, with things like grilled salmon, gourmet {and oh so delicious} mac-n-cheese. They have a featured turkey burger, think pesto, goat cheese, and a whole lotta, ‘oh yeah baby’. Right now they have king ranch casserole, grilled chicken, featured fish, featured chicken… trust me, you should check it out.

They also have a menu with soups, sandwiches and salads. I cannot recommend the Pimento Cheese BLT enough… it has rooster sauce and red onion, grilled to perfection and served on sourdough. The Hippie Crunch, with Guac, Sprouts, Tomato, Spicy Lemon Hummus, Cucumber, fried onion and walnut scallion is almost to Hip for me. Not really. It’s too delicious. Too delicious. Get one. The smoked chicken panini, layered with red onion, fresh mozzarella, tomato, basil pesto, and rooster aioli on foccacia… well… after reading that description, I shouldn’t have to say any more. And this is just the tip of the iceberg folks… The Kebab Cobb salad, featuring tandoori chicken, avocado, tomato, smoked bacon, red onion, cubed feta, red and green peppers, mixed greens and pita chips with Greek Tzatziki dressing, is my go to. I can’t get enough of the flavors… the dressing with greek yogurt and dill, is not only amazing, but makes me think the salad is totally guilt free. Speaking of guilt free, the also have many gluten-free selections, including desserts! If you stumble upon the gluten Free Ginger Zest cookies you must have one, whether you can tolerate gluten or not!

Their brunch menu is amazing but be sure you don’t go on a Sunday, they are closed! Also, don’t expect to be eating their late night… they close down at 7:30, so get there early, it’s definitely worth it! I recommend picking something from the chef’s case or menu and while you are nibbling on that you can have them bag up meals for the next several days. And why not drink a glass of wine, Bonus!

And if you are having an event, be sure to contact Local and ask for Katie! I went in one night when I was having girls over to my house at 7. I was there at 6:30, mind you they close at 7:30. “Um,” I him-hawed to Katie that evening… “Can I get a couple of sandwich trays?” “When would you like them?” Katie replied with a big smile. “Now.” I smiled, hoping that would soften the blow. She jokingly shook her head, and said, “What do you need?” Now, I don’t recommend this… I just happened in on a slow night, but she is the best. So accommodating. Not only did she come through… She made simple black catering trays look elegant, decorating them with fresh flowers and greens, for no extra charge. She will also let you bring your own trays up there and arrange things for you. I’m telling you folks… If you need a cheese plate, this is THE place to go. Her goat cheese log… TO.DIE.FOR.

In summation… If you haven’t been to this place, you are missing out. If you have a get together, you need to talk to Katie. She’s the best. If you like to eat food, you will enjoy Local Foods Kitchen. Did I mention at brunch they have a breakfest burrito with a tamale. A FREAKING tamale. Yeah. This place is that good.

Thanks for reading! And if you stop in Local, tell Katie I said hi! xo, Alexis




My Karl Rove Story

Yeah. I have a Karl Rove story… What, you don’t? Interesting. Anyway, in 2004 I was awarded an amazing internship with the Detroit News. Score! I was the intern/assistant for the Washington Bureau Chief, Alison Bethel during the 2004 Republican National Convention. It was one of the most amazing experiences in my life! I got to cover everything and everyone. I had two articles published and a photograph I took was on the front of the website for the Detroit News on the final day of the convention. I got to go to a luncheon with Laura Bush. I got to go to Wednesday Night Live hosted by Dick Cheney and the cast of Saturday Night Live! It was an amazing week, which was getting better and better, which was great, because it started off… rather terribly.

We were staying at the Hilton in mid-town New York. In the lobby checking in was quite a scene… John McCaa, our local news anchor was checking in right ahead of me. Texas delegates were everywhere. I remember feeling such a rush. I was really apart of something. Alison, my boss that I had never met, was in that lobby. We were both on our cell phones, trying to find each other in the crowd, and she started describing herself to me. My phone was cutting out, as was hers. I heard her say she was wearing all black. “That’s my favorite color!,” I proclaimed loudly. Turns out, she was standing right behind me. In a denim skirt and white shirt. “Oh my gosh! I… I…,” I couldn’t stop stammering… Because she was not wearing black. She was black. “I thought you said you were wearing all black!” “Well that explains one thing,” she said, looking me up and down. She had my application for the internship in her hand. “It says here you wanted to work for MTV.” “Yes mam,” I replied meekly. “Why the hell did they give me an intern that wanted to work for MTV?” “I’m sorry?” I was confused, why was that a bad thing? And why the hell did they give her my application that said I wanted to work at MTV, and ‘nowhere else’ thanks a lot internship program. Blow me.”You didn’t want to work for CNN. Or Fox News. Or any NEWS outlet. You wanted to work for MTV and they gave you to me. This is going to be a long week. Do you even know how to write?” So, to say the least, I did not make a great first impression.

“Go to your room, put your stuff down, and meet me at my room in 5 minutes,” she barked at me. “Yes mam.” “And don’t call me mam, call me Alison, I’m not your mother.” “Yes Alison,” I replied, and made a bee line for the elevators to drop my things off in my room.

Lucky for me, I charmed her at the bar that evening. We ended up meeting her friends and taking shots. At 1 am they decided to take the ‘white girl’ to Harlem to dance. We walked in a bar and ‘Crazy in Love’ was playing. I immediately ran to the dance floor and did my best Beyonce moves. Alison found me on the dance floor and died laughing, “What do you know,” she poked her friend Sarah in the side, “That white girl can shake it.”

Okay, okay, back to Karl Rove… It was Friday, the last day of the convention. And I was so hungover I thought I might die. Alison had taken me to a chamagne bar, Flute, the night before and bought a bottle of Veuve. It was the first time I had ever had it. The real deal. She thanked me for turning out to be an amazning intern. I thanked her for publishing two of my stories and giving me the by-line credit… I was in heavan. We talked and patted ourselves on the back and discussed the final day ahead of us. We would fly out Friday night when the convention ended and go our separate ways. Four bottles of Veuve between two of us later, we decided we had better go to bed since we were only going to get like, two hours of sleep.

When my alarm went off, about an hour and a half later, things… were not right. Spinning is an understatement. I started puking. Alison called and told me to meet her in the lobby in 5 minutes.

We got to Madison Square Garden, proceeded through security and made our way to our work station. There was a guy talking at the little ‘press room’ they had set up on the other side of our work station. “Go see if that’s important,” Alison said, nodding in the guy’s direction. I walked over, trying not to puke, and didn’t take notes. Who the hell was this guy? I’d never seen him before. Must be a nobody, I mused, as I didn’t listen to anything he said and tried not to puke on my shoes. When he finished, stood up, took pictures with people, and then walked off, I got up and went back to my ‘office’ {a table across the room} Alison ask if he said anything important. “No. Nothing good.” Alison gave me an odd look and left it at that. The rest of the day was amazing. Seeing George Bush, Cheney, the magnatism of the crowd… meeting the big guns… Anderson Cooper, Tim Russert, Wolf Blitzer, Larry King… it was a week I will never forget. I flew home and was sitting on the couch telling my {then} husband all about it, when Peter Jennings came on, to announce the person of the week. It was Karl Rove. The Architect of the Republican party, is what Jennings was calling him. And son of a bitch, if it wasn’t the guy I was supposed to be listening to that morning. Well Fuck me. #careerfail I blame Karl Rove though. If he had been a host on MTV, I totally would have known who he was.