Sunday, July 30, 2006
(Grabbed from Chasing Vincenzo)
- …a strange combination of food you like to snack on.
S.O.S. White gravy with tuna, on toast.
- …something you do that other bloggers who read you might find odd if they saw you doing it.
Watching Lifetime movies on Sunday.
- …when you were 7, what you wanted to be when you grew up - that you never told anyone about.
A movie star.
- …the thing you don’t tell people at work about yourself.
Well, I work at home, so…
- …what you like to do when no one else is going to be home for a stretch of time.
That s-e-l-d-o-m happens, but the two times that it has happened in the past three years, I just work at my computer.
- …the thing you believe - politically - that you don’t admit to people who think you think like they do.
I’m moderately conservative when it comes to the death penalty.
- …that one thing from your childhood, outside of your parents, that you try to maintain some kind of connection with, and how.
My belief that dreams do come true and that there is magic in the world.
- …a song or group or singer you secretly like that everyone else groans about.
- …do you close the bathroom door when you’re the only one home?
And as RW said, “Grab at will.”
Friday, July 28, 2006
Hats off to my wife, Nettl, for surviving the last two weeks. For those who don’t know, she’s been making the transition between two jobs and today is her last day at the Cat Clinic. On Monday she begins full-time at the Eye Clinic. For the past two weeks she’s been working with the cats in the morning, coming home at 1:00 to grab something to eat and change out of her surgical scrubs, only to dash out the door for her afternoons with the optically impaired. It can’t be easy clipping tomcats’ balls in the morning and fitting eyeballs for contacts, glasses and bifocals in the afternoon.
You made it, Babe. I’m so proud of you!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
With all of the billions and billions of people that have walked this planet, do you think that certain looks are repeated? I mean, there must have been someone, somewhere, sometime, who looked like you and me. I’ve observed that there seems to be certain “types” of looks and that these must repeat at certain times throughout history.
So here’s my Monday morning question for you:
Saturday, July 22, 2006
I was up until 5:30 this morning finishing the first phase of my current web project, and until I hear from the client, I’m free to play and blog and dance the hoochy-coo, if that’s what I feel like doing. I don’t usually work on the weekend anyway.
Joel took us to see Pirates of the Caribbean last night. That was fun. The fight scenes were a little long, and we could have gotten along quite well with just one Kracken scene, but I really ended up liking Davy Jones, despite his octopus head. The best part is when…well, I don’t want to blow it for those of you who haven’t seen it.
What are my plans for this weekend… Let’s see… Not much! Heather and Nathan are coming home tomorrow (Nathan’s only spending two weeks and then he’s going back up to Wichita). I need to go get a few groceries… I guess that’s it. I have a totally free weekend.
I think I’ll declare today Pajama Day.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Here’s what Alton has to say about it:
“Just want to say “thanks” to those who sent cards, emails, sides of beef, etc. in the wake of my mishap in the Nevada desert. Although a broken clavicle is indeed a painful thing, at least we know for sure that Isaac Newton pretty much nailed it with that second law of his. I should heal just fine but I will have a nasty lump on my shoulder for the rest of my days. (Dang … there goes that modeling career). To those ghouls out there who inquired as to whether or not the event was captured on camera you’ll be comforted to know that the crash will be featured in episode 4 of Feasting on Asphalt. But I have to warn you: it was a low charisma event. No flames, no smoke … just a lot of dust and discomfort.” -ABGet well soon!
Monday, July 17, 2006
Aging is something nobody wants to hear about. Try to tell someone younger than you about the aging experience and you’re suddenly an old fart and no longer as interesting as you were five minutes ago when you were telling them about how you partied with Jimi Hendrix in 1967. Try to talk to someone older and they either patronize you by playing the age card, or they try to convince you that you just need to get a grip and grow old gracefully. Well, I’ve never been one to accept things that passively, and I’m going into this aging thing kicking and screaming. Well, not aging itself, just society’s rules for aging.
Why is it that we can talk about our childhood experience, or our teenage and college experiences, but not our experience of turning middle-aged? Are we that frightened of our mortality in this country? I’m learning things and feeling things, and I’m confused by things, but no one seems to want to hear about what aging is like, although we’ve all been dying since the moment we were conceived. Who knows? I might be able to help someone. Perhaps when that pretty 23 year-old girl is turning 50, she’ll remember something I told her. I have a lot to say.
First of all, I’m damned mad. In fact, I’m pissed as all hell and full of resentment over the Hashimoto's Disease that has sucked a great deal of the vitality and energy out of my peak years. I started feeling the symptoms twenty years ago when I was around 35, but I attributed it to too much partying. Fortunately, I’m blessed with more energy than two people, so I had some to spare and I could run circles around my friends who were in their early 20s. Actually, my 30s weren’t so bad; it was my 40s that sucked. Throughout that entire decade I felt like someone in their 60s. Between the undiagnosed disease creeping over me like a poison vine, chronic illness, taking care of my father in the last years of his life, and the desperate relationship I fell into after his death, those precious years were the worst I’ve known in this lifetime. If I didn’t believe that all things and situations serve a higher purpose, I’d think that my 40s were pretty much wasted years.
Then Nettl came along and everything changed. She helped me to shake off the debris and deadwood I’d collected, and I lifted myself out of the mixed metaphors that are so easily employed in a post like this one. But miraculous as it was, true love did a number on my head. Why couldn’t I have met her when I was young, vital and good-looking? Why did we have to meet when I was feeling older than dirt and no longer liked what I saw in the mirror each morning? (read “How could she ever find me attractive and sexy?”) Why couldn’t we have met when I could make love all night long, serve breakfast in bed and then dive back under the covers for more lovemaking?
And I don’t want to hear any of that “You should just be grateful that you have true love” crap. Yes, I’ve been blessed with true love and I never take that for granted, but it doesn’t solve all of life’s problems you know.
To tell the truth, I really thought age would come much later. It crept up on me. Even in my 30s, 50 seemed a long way off. But it’s true, I guess, that the older you get the faster time seems to pass. Not really fair, is it. Even in my very early 40s I turned heads, but now? Pfui! The older you get the more invisible you become. I mean, how in hell does one go from this
Okay, I admit it. I’m vain. This is really all about the looks. I like getting older; I just wish that we could freeze frame our looks at the point where we feel best about them.
I wasn’t a good-looking kid. Despite Nettl’s protestations, I was in fact a dog-faced burrito. A skinny little red-haired, freckle-faced dog-faced burrito with big teeth. But around the age of 30 something happened. I blossomed. Suddenly, I was fighting off people in the bars. I never sat out a dance and never had to buy my own drinks. I had a date every weekend and relationships were fast and torrid. Then, without warning, it was as if someone flipped a switch and I was… older. I started hearing “Ma’am” at the checkout line. I started realizing that my doctors and dentists were young enough to be my kids. It’s a mind fuck.
All this culminated while I was in Florida last week filming The Ocular Effect for ABC Family. Once upon a time I would have been out there on the beach baring it all in the surf, running in the waves, hair blowing in the wind, feeling beautiful and free. Instead, I found myself wondering if tucking my shirt in would make me look thinner and looking for a place to sit down. A line from one of the Austin Powers movies went through my head:
“There’s nothing more pathetic than an aging hipster.”
Standing there surrounded by the young cast and film crew, my Levis rolled up as the warm surf lapped at my legs, beaded bracelets on my wrists, I suddenly realized that I was indeed an aging hipster. An old hippie. A relic of the 60s. Then, just as quickly as that thought hit me I rebelled. When did I turn from cool to pathetic? Who set this standard? When did I quit simply being the me I’d spent so many years inventing to someone society deems hopelessly outdated? Sod them! I thought. I’m me. It has taken a lot of pain, love, grief, loss, laughter, dreams broken and dreams fulfilled to make me who I am. I am not invalid, I am not passé and I am not fucking pathetic!
And so I decided to bury the old, younger me. That face in the mirror is gone, never to return, kind of like when my sons grew into adults and I found myself wondering, “Who took my little boys away? Where did they go?” (If only I could go back to the WORST day I had as a young mother!)
The face I see now will not linger for long, either. Soon, I’ll look and I’ll see an old person looking back, wrinkles, gray hair and all. And not long after that, I probably won’t be able to stand at the mirror, and then I will leave. My gallows humor steps up to the mirror and tells me, "Cheer up! It's only gonna get worse!" Shut up, me! All I want to do now is prepare myself by accepting who I am at any age.
Life is not about being young. Life is not not about being old. Life is not about accruing things or amassing money. Life is about LIVING! I choose to live, grow, love and learn. What is life for you?
(I love you, Nettl)
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Did you know that:
~ 58% of the US adult population never reads another book after high school.
~ 42% of college graduates never read another book.
~ 80% of US families did not buy or read a book last year.
~ 70% of US adults have not been in a bookstore in the last five years.
I’m astonished. No wonder grammar and spelling are so pathetic on the internet.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Big old sloppy thanks to Deni for keeping a good eye on my blog while I was gone, and for sweeping that cockroach out the door. Thanks, friend!
And now, to bed.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Airport bars and restaurants almost always carry the theme of the city in which the airport is located. LAX (Los Angeles) has a nice little bar with a black and white movie theme, where you can sit beneath photos of Marilyn Monroe and Humphrey Bogart. Tampa has the Jose Cuervo Tequileria that serves Dos Equis on tap and some really good soft tacos, and Vienna’s Schwechat airport has Cafe Wien, a great place for that last really good cup of coffee before you leave. I’ve flown first class a couple of times and was granted access into the VIP lounge, but while the special treatment was nice, I missed the colorful parade of folks going by.
Layovers don’t usually bother me, as long as there’s one of these cafes or bars to sit in. I like people-watching and I doubt there’s a better place for it than in an airport. Every person has a story, someplace that they’re going, someplace that they’ve been. Family reunions, business meetings, vacations, funerals, honeymoons, you name it; every human possibility is alive in every commercial airport in the world.
Airports also create a kind of sensory overload, and there’s something I like in the way the wheels of my carry-on sound on different airport floors. Marble and granite floors create a smooth, cool sound while tile floors create a click-clack sound, and the moving sidewalks make an interesting whirl-whir sound.
If you take the time to talk to the person sitting next to you (considering that they’re not stinky or scary, that is), you can find out about places you’ve never been. Unfortunately, more and more people are walking around with iPods and handless cell phones strapped to their heads, missing opportunities to relate with fellow humans and looking like so many Borg.
One of the people I had the pleasure of meeting and working with over the weekend told me that she thought of airports as “Love Places” because they’re so full of emotions, usually happy. I liked that. So next time you have some time to kill at the airport, close your laptop, turn off your cell phone, take the Ipod out of your ears, order a beer and look around you. There’s a lot to see.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
1. Have you ever been searched by the cops?
2. Do you close your eyes on roller coasters?I don’t ride roller coasters. I hate them. Well, except for Space Mountain at Disneyland, but that's largely in the dark, so I don't have to close my eyes.
3. When’s the last time you’ve been sledding?When I was a kid in California, we used to sled down the hills on large pieces of cardboard in the summer, when the grass was dead and yellow. Great fun!
4. Would you rather sleep with someone else, or alone?With Nettl.
5. Do you believe in ghosts?Not only do I believe in them, but I’ve lived with two or three, and have had many experiences with ghosts.
6. Do you consider yourself creative?
To a dangerous and frightening degree.
7. Do you think O.J. killed his wife?
Of course he did.
8. Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie?Neither! They’re both a little on the grotesque side in my opinion.
9. Do you stay friends with your exes?I have with many, but we eventually drift apart, amicably.
10. Do you know how to play poker?Yes, but I suck.
11. Have you ever been awake for 48 hours straight?You’re asking ME this question?
12. What’s your favorite commercial?The American Cheese cow commercials. They always bust me up.
13. What are you allergic to?Oklahoma. Really! I never had allergies until I moved here.
14. If you’re driving in the middle of the night, and no one is around do you run red lights?
Sometimes, but I’m always paranoid about it.
15. Do you have a secret that no one knows but you?
I have many. It's hard not revealing them sometimes, but I put them in my "To the Grave" file and resist the temptation.
16. Boston Red Sox or New York Yankees?L.A. Dodgers.
17. Have you ever been Ice Skating?Once, and I was really good. Never fell down even once.
18. How often do you remember your dreams?Every night, in alarming detail.
19. When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried?This past weekend.
20. Can you name 5 songs by The Beatles?Only 5???
21. What’s the one thing on your mind now?When am I ever going to feel human again, and not be so tired that I could actually barf?
22. Do you know who Ghetto-ass Barbie is?No, but I know who Crack Whore Barbie is.
23. Do you always wear your seat belt?Yes, but I don’t like to.
24. What cell service do you use?Tracfone.
25. Do you like Sushi?I don’t like seafood, period.
26. Have you ever narrowly avoided a fatal accident?
Not in a car.
27. What do you wear to bed?T-shirt and sweats, or jim-jams. T-shirt and chonies, if it’s hot.
28. Been caught stealing?Never. I don’t steal.
29. What shoe size do you have?6 1/2.
30. Do you truly hate anyone?No, not really. I don't think I have the capacity for hate. That's not bragging, it's just a fact.
31. Classic Rock or Rap?Classic Rock.
32. If you could sleep with one famous person, who would it be?
No one. Nettl is the only person I want to sleep with.
33. Favorite Song?
Today, “I Would Walk 500 Miles” by The Proclaimers.
34. Have you ever sung in front of the mirror?When you’re in the biz, it’s a good idea so that you can learn not to make weird faces on camera or on stage.
35. What food do you find disgusting?Any kind of guts. Meat, in general, but I like it anyway.
36. Do you sing in the shower?Only after a great night...
37. Did you ever play, “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?”Oh, hell, yeah.
38. Have you ever made fun of your friends behind their back?My friends and I have a policy never to say something behind each other’s backs that we wouldn’t say, or haven’t already said to their face.
39. Have you ever stood up for someone you hardly knew?Of course.
40. Have you ever been punched in the face?Not physically.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Monday, July 10, 2006
Right now I’m in a Holiday Inn in Venice, Florida. If anyone comes here and wants my room, I’m in #104, one of the few that is in
Tonight the cast and crew sat on the roof-top area of Sharky’s down on the beach, watching the sunset over the gulf while listening to a band play “Margaritaville” that has a synthesizer with a steel drum band voice.
“Screw Vienna!” I exclaimed. “I’m moving to the tropics!”
And you know, sitting there thinking, “I can’t believe that in 24 hours I’m going to be back in Oklahoma”, it seemed like a plan. Bars stay open until dawn here. Grocery stores sell wine and, when I asked if the beer was “three-two” at a bar today, the reply was, “What’s that?” Yep. My idea of paradise.
Well, not Florida, but on the Gulf somewhere. Or maybe I should check out Key West. Now that’s a romantic thought! The end of the road! Hemmingwayland! I could do that. But there’s always a catch. In this case, hurricanes. Aw, crap…
From my interaction with the locals here, the best way to weather out an Act of God is by staying drunk… not all that different a mindset from what I’m used to in California with the earthquakes. I think I could fit in, even if I’m not from New York.
Anyway, I just wanted to check in. I’ll be writing tomorrow night. If I’m alive that is. So far, I’ve gotten about six hours of sleep this weekend and not all at one time. I can always nap during my three-hour layover at George Bush Airport in Houston. Bush always sets me to sleeping like a baby.
You dirty mind!
P.S. I have a lot of neat stuff to tell you guys, but it’s going to have to wait.
Tuesday, July 4, 2006
- Probable change of long-term plans, digging in my heels.
- Thunder storms, looks like no fireworks tonight.
- Contracts and pay schedules make timing stressful.
- Rent is over-due, going out of town on business with no money in my pocket.
- Headache, my gut is in knots so I’m no fun today.
- Waiting for 5:00 so that Happy Hour can begin.