Papa

How can my heart keep breaking when it's already lying in a thousand pieces in the pit of my stomach?

Today marks one week since my maternal grandfather, my Papa, passed away. Sometimes it feels like it's been a year, other times it's still not quite real to me.

I consider myself so lucky to have been able to be here in Michigan for the past three months, helping to take care of Papa and be with my family. I will always cherish the time I got to spend with him toward the end of his life, although I hope that these won't always be the strongest memories I have of him...I want to be able to remember his face filled with a smile instead of pain; his body strong and sure instead of weakened and bruised.

I'm sure I will, one day.

This is one of the toughest weeks I have ever had to endure. Yesterday was supposed to be my final day to drive Papa to his treatments before a ride service took over so that I could head back to L.A...instead, I sat by the window for hours, not knowing what to do with myself now that my entire reason for being on this side of the country is gone. I felt so lost. I still do.

I cried myself to sleep last night, unable to stop thinking about Papa - how my time with him is finished, how I won't be helping him put on his jacket anymore, how he looked as he slipped away.

Why is it that no matter how much we do, or how much time we spend, in the end it's just never enough? There is always something we wish we had said or done. I wish I had stayed at his house to eat lunch with him more often after treatment...I wish I had shown him the photo of us at my wedding, instead of saving it as a Christmas gift.

But one thing I can't - won't - wish is that I had told him I loved him more often. Because I know that I told him absolutely every time I said goodbye, whether on the phone or in person - and I know that even if I hadn't, he still would have known.

I try to find comfort in this, that for all of his simple means, Papa was rich in what matters the most - love. He had such a warm heart, he loved all of us so very much, and we adored him in return.

Because of this, and because he lived a long, full life, I don't want waste time being angry at the universe for taking him away. But I can't stop myself from hurting.

My heart aches. I feel like I'm drowning in sorrow. Just when I think I can't possibly cry any more, the tears just take over.

I know that he, of all people, wouldn't want me to stay this way. He, who told his own sisters not to visit him in the hospice during his last days because it was too much trouble for them, saying, "don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

I don't know exactly what I believe about the afterlife, but I do know that wherever Papa is, he'd want to tell all of us that exact statement...and I'm trying like hell to be strong like him, so that I can tell my family and friends the same about myself.


Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.


One day.

Stop the World, I Want to Get Off...RIGHT F*ING NOW

You guys, I just don't get it.

There are so many things going on in the good ol' U.S. of A. right now that simply boggle my mind...so many issues being debated that are overwhelmingly pointless.

How can any senator (or other person) look at the results of the Pentagon study on the potential repeal of 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' and say that there isn't enough information?!? How can someone possibly think that an act that discourages ANY person from doing something honorable (such as serving their country) isn't reprehensible? How can someone listen to the highest leaders in our military make their case against this disgusting law and then continue to argue FOR it?!?

I'm also stymied whenever I hear a blue-collar worker supporting the notion of extending the Bush tax cuts to the wealthy. Look, I get extending the cuts to all of us "norms" - the economy is suffering, unemployment isn't budging, the middle/lower class can use all the help it can get. But that's not the issue - evil socialist Obama and the democrats ARE in favor of extending those cuts. They simply want to eliminate the cuts for the rich folks, the ones making over $200K/year. And a lot of those people have come out in SUPPORT of this plan. Everyone likes to bitch that we need to save/make money somewhere, well, here's a dandy place for it. I don't get it. We're not even RAISING their taxes, per se - we're RETURNING them to where they were several years ago.

To all the people who use the "trickle down" argument (i.e. if we give more money to those in the higher income brackets, they will then spend that money and it will trickle down to the starving masses): I call B.S. All of our top economic minds have said time and again that the notion of a trickle down effect is, for the most part, false. And besides, we already gave the fat cats a chance to make trickle-down work, when we first put the tax cuts into play - and they didn't do a damn thing. Trickle down didn't happen. So why continue to keep the game the exact same if THE GAME DOESN'T WORK?!?

Another thing that's absolutely blowing my mind is this statement being made by the Republican party, that they will absolutely, without fail, deny any attempt at bipartisanship by the Democrats/Obama. That they will automatically, without fail, vote down any attempted legislation. I understand that everyone has their differences. But it behooves no one - NO ONE - to act like a bunch of pissy 6-year-olds saying, "well if I can't have the red balloon then I'm just gonna pop ALL the goddamn balloons so that NO ONE can have one."

I mean, seriously people?!? Is this how you teach your children to behave? Because if so, this country's headed straight down shit creek without a paddle - with a big fucking hole in bottom of the boat.

A certain senator said that his number one goal during his next two years in office was to prevent Obama from being reelected. Really? REALLY?!? Not fixing the economy, huh? That one too rough for ya? 'Cuz I'm fairly certain that if we don't continue to work on that son-of-a-bitch, we're not gonna have much country left by the 2012 elections.

There are plenty of other issues that I have a hard time believing are still being argued over in this day and age - gay marriage, right to choose, global warming - but for those I have at least heard some intelligent debate. There are people out there who have their reasons for arguing against those matters, and even if I don't agree with them, I have to allow that those reasons exist.

But the support of 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'...the stand against bipartisanship, against working together for the good of the country...the determination to extend tax cuts to people who don't need them -

I just don't get it.

Times are starting to feel pretty fucking desperate, people. God (or whoever is out there) help us...

...because we certainly aren't helping ourselves.

Fill in the Blanks

Not sure what I want to write about here, hence the "blanks." Just felt that it was high time I sat down and wrote SOMETHING.

I've been going through a pretty major period of burnout - total exhaustion wouldn't be a bad way to phrase it. Temporarily moved home to Michigan to help take care of my grandfather who was recently diagnosed with leukemia and given 3 months to live (a month ago)...very glad to be here, and VERY thankful that circumstances are such in my life that I am able to do so. Big cheers to the hubbers on that score...he's a saint, and a trooper, and a whole bunch of other great things. :)

We drove my car across the country so that I could have it on hand for all of the many doctor visits, etc, and also so I could bring our dog here to stay with me - just easier than B having to board her every week while he's at work. And I'm really glad we made that decision, because having her here is like having a little piece of home, and I definitely feel a little less lonely because of her presence.

I miss B terribly - don't even have the words to describe it. It's like I'm trying to live without arms. Seriously. It sucks and sometimes I can't figure out how to function properly...a part of myself isn't here and it just doesn't feel right.

I'm also going through some depression in regards to leaving my life behind for the next few months...I miss my friends back in L.A. and feel very detached from everyone and everything that I've come to know and love. So if you wanna email me or ship me some sushi, please feel free. ;)

I am hoping that these next few months will lead to a sort of re-awakening of my professional goals, or at least the discovery of new ones, because I've been so darn lost lately on that score...we shall see.

Right now, just focusing on family and the lovely state of traffic in Mid-Michigan (nonexistent)...not all is doom and gloom.

Keeping my head up, taking one day at a time. Peace out.

BITCH FEST #4 - BLIND PEOPLE

Ok, ok, chill out...not LITERAL blind people. Sheesh.

Rather, I'm referring to the type of people who are so self-involved that they float through life with full-force blinders on to the concerns and/or cares of others they encounter.

Point in case: the jack@ss driver on Robertson last week, who swooped out from behind me and into the left lane - missing my bumper by mere inches - honking at me as if his life depended on it, waving his middle finger out his window...all the while apparently blind to the fact that a FIRE TRUCK was rapidly approaching us from the other direction - hence my stopping in the middle of the road. (I couldn't pull over completely as there were occupied parking meters on this part of the street.)

I mean, how on God's green earth did this guy not take the time to wonder why every other vehicle on the road had come to a full and complete stop?!? Look, I get it, sometimes it's hard to hear a siren, especially if you're blasting your poor taste in crappy 90s music at a ridiculous volume out of your sh*tty car's windows, but the flashing lights were pretty G-D obvious, not to mention ALL OF THOSE STOPPED VEHICLES.

But no. Clearly I was in the wrong here. Obviously I was the one who deserved to be flipped off - the obscenities which were thrown in my face were pretty well-deserved, I guess . MORON.

I had a modicum of satisfaction when the guy had to pull over after getting a whopping 20 feet past me, but it took me the good part of an hour to fully swallow my indignant rage and accept that I'd never be able to find this jag-bag and shove my steering column down his throat.

Boy, I'm glad I don't have a problem with road rage. :P

So be forewarned, jerk-wads. Next time you feel like laying on your horn, maybe take a second to use those eyeballs you are so blessed with having and check out your surroundings for a possible REASON for people to be doing what they're doing. Or else your stupidity might very well result in someone getting hurt.

Even a blind guy could tell you THAT.

On the Other Hand...

In a completely different if not polar opposite vein from my earlier post today, I have been struck with an idea for a new blog, one which hopefully will show how a simple act of kindness can maybe bring a little peace, love, and harmony back into our daily grind.

At a bar a few nights ago, I witnessed an interaction between two strangers, a man and a woman, both mid to late 20s, neither of particularly astonishing looks (either good or bad). The man approached the woman with a bit of small talk, she responded in kind. But when he attempted to move into the "now I'm officially hitting on you" range, she quickly turned into a viper, flinging mean bits of dialogue his way that clearly got under his skin and poisoned the conversation.

I was quietly horrified - what happened to the good old days of politely rebuked romantic overtures? Isn't there a way to tell someone "I'm taken" or "sorry, not interested" without partaking in a full-fledged verbal assault? Surely there's a way to tell someone "no" without tearing their self-confidence into itty-bitty tiny little shreds and strewing them across the floor for everyone in the room to step on.

(And no, I'm not talking about that sleazeball who sidles up to any girl he can get close to and makes lewd comments - that guy deserves a good dressing down.)

Then I started looking at my friends and colleagues and realizing that this isn't just a gender-based matter. Somewhere along the Gossip Girl-soaked line, our society has learned that having "frenemies" and being nasty to one another is a more fun, admirable, and socially if not morally sound way to live life.

A bit of self-deprecation and fun-poking can be healthy, but we've fallen so far down the rabbit hole of rude behavior that calling a girlfriend a bitch or a well-meaning potential suitor a moron is not only acceptable, it's considered amongst many to be the highest form of wit. Your social standing is only raised by another person's being brought down low.

And it bums me out.

So I wanna do something about it.

My idea won't change the world, and it's doubtful that even a handful of people will read the blog, but I want to start a blog/site where I take the time, each and every day for the next year (yes, another "365 Days" sort of endeavor...what can I say, they're popular) to pick a person and say something nice about them.

It doesn't have to be earth-shattering. The person doesn't need to be a saint or the inventor of penecillan (good thing, since that would end my work at Day One). I'll probably choose a lot of friends and family, but I'll also sprinkle in some love for passing acquaintances or even complete strangers. Hell, maybe even a celebrity or two, if I feel like it.

But before I begin, I'd be muy interested in hearing some feedback from y'all. A good endeavor? Even if no one ever reads the thing, I've gotta think that hearing that someone said something nice about you for no apparent reason has to make you feel good - right? Or just creepy? Would YOU be weirded out?

It's the End of the World as We Know It...

...and I feel - well, "fine" doesn't seem like quite the right word. "Blackly depressed," perhaps, or maybe just "bleak" would be slightly more apt.

Having been stewing in a vat of career confusion and financial worry for the past few months, I've found myself drawn to movies and books of a similar theme - apocalypse. Most of these works are rather shoddy and not particularly well-thought-out, but between the handful of them that are great and the nuggets of wisdom one can still collect from the aforementioned crap-fests, you can still come away with a pretty significant feeling of doom.

Top this all off with an article I read this morning concerning several leading scientists from around the world who agree that the human race (at least as we know it) has little to no chance of surviving the next century, and you've got the recipe for a really upbeat f*cking day.

I mean, anyone with a head on their shoulders (and a decent brain in said head) should realize that the continuation of our species is no longer a definite. The problem of vast overpopulation, and hence over-farming, alone is enough to make one question the possibility of mankind's future. Need I quote the countless studies about what year the world's tuna supply will run out, or how little farmland will be left in 50 years if the population continues to rise at the percentages which it has been? The fact of the matter is, we're running out of room, food, and natural resources, and instead of slowing our worldwide reproductive rate we're increasing it on a daily basis.

I'm not trying to say that people should stop having babies, so don't get all human rights activist on me. I'm just saying that we need to figure something out if we want the human race to survive...as geeky as it sounds, off-world colonization is pretty much the only option we've got going for us at this point, but sadly we seemed to have lost our hunger for the great space race back in the '80s.

Say we figure out a way around the overpopulation problem. Great. Now you simply have to worry about the threat of nuclear war, our dwindling supplies of natural resources like oil or clean water, and of course everyone's favorite, global warming.

To save us all from a lot of eye-rolling and name-calling, I'll avoid the topic of an intelligent computer uprising (a la "Terminator"), but our dependency on computers should frighten you in any case. Do you have any idea how quickly our country would fall into complete anarchy if somehow all of our computer systems came crashing down? Everything is stored in computers, on microchips - how much cash do YOU have sitting around your house? That's right, not much...it's all stored digitally in your bank or on your credit cards, and with the flick of a switch - congratulations, you're officially bankrupt.

I know this all makes me sound like a crazy nut-bag anti-children (hell, anti-everything) wanker, but I really don't think I am...I view most of this as pretty obvious stuff, and it shocks and scares me that more people aren't concerned about these issues.

There's definitely something to be said for living in the moment and being happy where you are, and I try to remember that each and every day of my life. But I sure do hope that there is a group of people (vastly more intelligent and driven than I) out there who are concentrating on the matter of our ultimate survival. Because selfishly, as sh*tty as the human race can often be, I kinda don't wanna see it end.

Sorry for the darkness...more pep next time, I swear. In the meantime, I suggest you go read "Oryx and Crake" or "The Road" for more feel-good end-of-time cuddliness.

Of Skype'ing, Writing, and a Monkey's Uniform...a play in three acts (just kidding)

My most recent spate of meaningless hours of idleness has been broken by the refreshing addition of Skype to my home. Video calls, folks...it's the wave of the future. Now all we need are those machines from "The Jetsons" that automatically get you out of bed, dressed, and fully made-up so that you're always ready for a caller to get a peek into your home life.

Sadly, since we don't currently have these fabulous machines, I am pretty sure I'm going to be keeping my Skype contact list fairly short, as there are only a handful of people out there I don't mind seeing me with unwashed hair, glasses, and sweats. It ain't pretty.

My first Skype experiment was with my friend Michele, who was gracious enough to be my guinea pig and close enough in distance that there was nary a sound lag or vocal distortion to be had. An excellent first try, saved from being a bit uncomfortable by my husband having the presence of mind to avoid walking behind me after he stepped out of the shower. These are the types of close calls that Skype users will have to take care to avoid if this thing is gonna catch on...at least among us normal peeps who aren't trying to "sho u penis bals" - a rather touching request an unknown user sent to me before I figured out how to change my privacy settings.

The second Skype was with Brad's sister and nieces - a surprise for him, as he wasn't aware they had a web cam...it was great to see the smile it brought to his face, to actually be able to see those little girls fighting over the right to talk to Uncle Brad instead of just hearing the ruckus. We're talking full-fledged face grabs and body slams here, folks - Brad's a well-loved guy. :D

And yesterday I Skype'd with my sister and niece, with whom I discovered the 21st century version of peek-a-boo, diving out of frame and jumping back in from unexpected directions. It was awesome. I'm looking forward to surprising my grandfather later today when my sister has him over for dinner, but I'm completely ready for him to believe he's looking at a video clip of me.

I've also been trying (TRYING) to fill my hours with writing projects...but it's been difficult. What I thought of as my great idea for a novel is beginning to look more like a lengthy short story - as much as I read books, I seem to have trouble taking the time to write in full-blown novelistic style...too much information makes it read like a short story. We'll see if I can fix this.

And last, I have, of course, been desperately trying to find a paying "day job" of sorts to help feed our dog and put vodka in the freezer...and the economy has come back with a heaping round of "not enough jobs!" and "you're both under and over qualified!" It's fun.

You see, having been a struggling actor/writer for the past 87 years, I don't really have many marketable skills to shop around. So I'm not qualified to do things like bake or teach or sell overpriced houses in a depressed market. But I'm also too old and experienced to get any of the entry-level BS jobs that are vaguely floating around out there...they'd much prefer to hire someone younger and dumber who they can feasibly keep around for a few years. I'm not sure how they automatically realize that a nearly 33-year-old woman who's Mensa-qualified would jump their donkey ship at the first sign of a better paying "REAL" job - I guess someone must have warned them.

One of the interviews I had was to be a trolley guide at an outdoor mall. Yes, I would have the grand honor of narrating the same 1/2 mile course of track six times every hour to a squabbling bunch of tourists whilst wearing a suit resembling something between an old-timey elevator operator and one of those little monkeys that dances around collecting money while a gypsy man plays the hurdy-gurdy.

You know what I'm talking about.

Well guess what? The interview went great. And I didn't get the job. Because, clearly, they had some magical inkling that this was MAAAAYYYYYBE not my ultimate career choice.

So I guess what I'm saying is that my ultimately pessimistic view of life and the job market is primarily at fault for me not getting one of these classy entry-level peon jobs. And the more I get rejected, the further down the slope of negativity I go.

I've decided, then, that I really should just finish writing my GD brilliant debut novel(la?), get it sold, and watch millions of people gobble it up and ask me for seconds. Because that should be easier, right?

I'm starting to think it might be. God help us all. Except Paris Hilton.

I'm gonna go Skype...at least it's free!

The Imploded Brain tackles the Lost finale

I have been a rabid fan of the show "Lost" for the past six years, so like the rest of the world (minus the naysayers), I watched on Sunday as my greatest television love was extinguished in a puff of smoke monster.

The finale was the cause of so much confusion, argument, and Facebook de-friending that I couldn't help but try to put my own thoughts and theories into words in the hopes that I can make some sense of things, even if only for my own scattered noggin.

First and foremost, let me say that I was absolutely pleased with the ending of this epic. Were all of my questions answered? Of course not. But I'm at peace with that, because I was sort of expecting it - there was no way the writers could have tied up every loose end this season, so I was ready to let some stuff go. And isn't it better sometimes NOT to know?? It means we can still have vaulted discussions on the matter, it can still be a fun thing to dicker over at the water cooler, and sometimes when mysteries are over-explained, they lose what made them special in the first place.

Also, how could I dare argue with what ended up being one of the more emotionally satisfying conclusions in (my) television-watching history? So I didn't get all of the sci-fi mumbo-jumbo nerd answers I was seeking - I got the joy of seeing these characters who I've grown to love find peace amidst their own conclusions. And that's what was always at the heart of "Lost" - it wasn't smoke monsters and hatches, it was the emotional journey of these flawed, yearning, lovable survivors. The term "Lost" doesn't apply so much to their physical state of being as it did to their spiritual and emotional one. And yes, cheesy as it is to say, by the end of the finale, they did indeed seem to be..."found."

Ultimately, those are my thoughts on the subject. But I know there are those of you out there who are ready to throw your coffee in my sappy "love-is-the-answer" face, so I'll also try my hand at answering some of the "unanswered" questions the show left behind...because I believe enough clues were sprinkled throughout the show to at least make a passing guess at some of the answers.

1) WHAT WERE THE NUMBERS? Well, we know that they were numbers assigned to each of Jacob's candidates - Sayid, Jack, Locke, Sawyer, Hurley, and Sun/Jin. I think that Jacob assigned those numbers to the candidates via his lighthouse "readings" (or coordinates, if that's a better term). And because those numbers were specific to his chosen candidates, the sequence had enough significance to permeate the island, showing up on the hatch, etc - the numbers are representative of the candidates, and hence, Jacob. I would therefore argue that Jacob himself was represented by 108.

2) YEAH, BUT WHAT ABOUT HURLEY'S LOTTO NUMBERS? We already know that he got them from a friend in the nut-house, who in turn picked them up when he was stationed somewhere near Australia...presumably from the island's broadcast itself (if I'm remembering correctly, the numbers were what was being sent out by the radio towers before Danielle replaced them with her own distress signal). As far as the sequence actually winning the lottery...well, obviously there's a bit of magic and mysticism involved in this show, and we're led to believe Jacob has a lot of mysterious power in the world - surely he was able to rig those little numbered ping pong balls.

3) WHAT WAS THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE ISLAND? We were told time and again that the island was the source of life as well as the guardian against evil for the world at large...this is one of the more hippie-dippy pieces of the show's mythology, but if we take it at face value, then the island needed to stay intact for the world to survive. I rather like EW's Jeff Jensen's theory on the matter, in regards to how the smoke monster's escape would engender the destruction of humanity itself: read it here.

4) BUT IF THE ISLAND WAS SO GREAT, WHY DID IT BRING EVERYONE SO MUCH PAIN AND MISERY? How can I put this gently...that's life, kid. Life's pretty grand, but it's also one m.f.'ing bitch when it wants to be.

5) WHY COULDN'T WOMEN GIVE BIRTH ON THE ISLAND? We know that this problem wasn't always around - after all, we saw Ethan safely brought into the world back in the '70s. I don't have a firm answer for this one, but as the Incident happened not long after the last known successful island birth, I've gotta believe that had something to do with it. Maybe the excess electromagnetic energy erodes our baby-making equipment - not enough to prevent pregnancy, but just enough to prevent it from succeeding.

6) WAIT, DIDN'T ROUSSEAU GIVE BIRTH TO ALEX AFTER THE INCIDENT? Yes, many years after. As did Claire to Aaron. But both babies who were conceived OFF island - and that made all the difference, don't you agree? Both women reached the island near the end of their pregnancies.

7) WHY WEREN'T MICHAEL AND WALT IN THE CHURCH? We were given a definitive answer about Michael earlier this season - he's stuck on the island, repenting for what he did - betraying his friends and killing Ana Lucia and Libby. I personally think it's less of the island keeping him jailed and more that he still can't forgive himself - and therefore move on. Much like Ben, but to a lesser degree, since Ben at least made it as far as the limbo that was the Sideways World. As far as Walt goes, no, I don't think it's simply a matter of the kid got too tall. Christian said that the castaways were all together in this place that they had made because their time together on the island represented the most important years of their lives. Walt was only on the island for about 2 months, and spent part of that time with the Others, away from the castaways. He returned to the "real" world, still a kid, and spent the majority of his life and formulative years AWAY from the island and the castaways. How important to YOU are the adults who surrounded you for a month when you were 13?

8) WHY WERE CHILDREN SO IMPORTANT TO THE OTHERS? They couldn't have babies. So they took them from other people on the island instead. Also, the Others, like Mother and the Man in Black (and perhaps, in part, Jacob) believe that humanity in general is corrupt, especially those coming from off the island, and therefore the children still had a chance to be raised in the "right" way.

9) WHO BUILT THE GIANT STATUE? WHAT ABOUT THE DONKEY WHEEL, OR THE DRAIN TO HELL? You've got me there. Statue, I'm assuming an earlier race of people that were brought to and lived on the island - Egyptians, of course, as the god depicted is Egyptian. How they did it, I have no idea - but I don't know how they built the pyramids or the Sphinx, either - they're pretty impressive, wouldn't you say? The donkey wheel must have been built by someone who came after the Man in Black died (and before Dharma arrived). We'll assume that Smokey (in the guise of someone dead that they knew) taught that person how to build it, but found he was unable for whatever reason to use it himself. And the drain to hell? That one must go way, WAY back. No clue.

10) WHY DIDN'T THE SMOKE MONSTER KILL EVERYBODY, INSTEAD OF ONLY SOME? Knowing now who he is, and that he had an ultimate plan, clearly it was in his best interest to keep some important players alive. And he couldn't kill Jacob's candidates anyway.

11) WHAT WAS THE CABIN, AND WAS JACOB EVER THERE? I assume it was a holding cell of sorts for the Man in Black/Smokey - I don't think Jacob ever lived there. Didn't really look like his sort of digs anyway, did it? And because we saw Christian Shepard there, and know the monster took his guise in the past, we'll assume that he was familiar with the cabin and perhaps lived there for a time. I think the ring of ash was put there by Dogon in an attempt to cage the Man in Black, not to protect someone inside from him. And I don't think it worked. We saw that the ring had been broken at some point after he whispered, "help me." By whom, we don't know. I'll have to go back and watch the series to see if the smoke monster shows up in any of the episodes between when we first see the cabin to when we see the ash ring broken - maybe he was indeed imprisoned for a few episodes, but obviously it didn't last. And he certainly wasn't imprisoned when the plane first crashed.

12) WHO WERE THE OTHERS? As we've seen, people occasionally come or are brought to the island. Usually they go to war with the Others, the group of people who are already in place on the island. By the end of this war, most of the new group are gone, and those who are left seem to migrate into the Others camp, just in time to join them in fighting the next group of newbies who crash into their home. We saw Cindy, Zack & Emma, Ben, Ethan, and Alex all become members of the Others. For a time, even our castaways were Others, to those who came from the freighter. As far as the "original" Others go, who knows...the first people to crash onto the island a millennium ago became the Others to whoever came next.

13) WHAT WAS THE SICKNESS? Danielle's team had it. Claire had it. Sayid had it. It happened whenever someone died but was brought back to life by Smokey - part of his corrupt essence stayed inside of them and slowly rotted who they were, turning them into Smoke Zombies. Sayid was able to resist it in the end - but I think that was an enormous act of will and only doable because he hadn't been under his influence for very long. Claire was fighting it, but I'm guessing she only truly came back to her senses when the island cracked open and Smokey lost his supernatural powers.

14) WHY DID CLAIRE LEAVE AARON BEHIND AND WANDER OFF INTO THE JUNGLE? As Claire had the sickness, I'm guessing she caught it when Keamy & crew attacked Dharma/Otherville. Sawyer found her lying bloodied in her back yard, behind her annihilated house. I always believed Claire died that day in the explosion, and I now believe I was right - only she didn't stay dead. Smokey brought her back to life, and in doing so, imbued her with his darkness, which gradually took control over her until one night it told her to leave Aaron and walk away with her father - also, as we know, the Man in Black.

OK, I'm going to stop for now. I feel like I've written a novel, or at least a decent-sized short story. Feel free to comment, argue, or pose further questions - I know there are a zillion more. I'm willing to take my shot at pretty much any of them - except for who Penny's mom was. Because my answer is, I don't give a sh*t. Peace.

The Prodigal Procrastinator Returns!

Hello, gang!

I'm baaaaaaaack!

I realize I have been a wee bit absent over the past several months - I always procrastinate when it comes to my writing (for shame), but 8 whole months is sort of ridiculous. At least I have a good excuse.

MARRIAGE!

That's right...I got hitched - believe it or not, it happened. Last Saturday, May 8th, 2010, in front of about 110 of our friends and family, my wonderfully amazing Brad promised to walk the dog every morning for the rest of our lives (with the exception of weekends). Oh, and also, love, honor, and cherish me, all that good stuff.

It was amazing. It was spectacular. It was expensive.

It was also time-consuming. So much so that I've written next to nothing since September - and not just on this blog. No screenplays, maybe three lines of my novel, and only a handful of restaurant reviews for examiner.com (which I may kick to the curb anyway, for lack of inspiration and reward).

Today is my first official day back to reality. We mini-mooned last week away, then took the weekend to recuperate - vacationing is hard work, yo.

But here I am...and as I sat in front of my computer all day, wasting time on Facebook (damn you, Family Feud!!!) and looking at wedding pics, it started to hit me:

I am just a tiny bit lost.

Not in a literal sense - anyone who knows me knows I am a human compass and an ace navigator on road trips - but in the sense that I've sort of come to the realization that I'm a little lacking in the focus/drive/goals department.

Acting was so much of my life for so long - and I have a couple of opportunities to get back into that world. But do I want to? TBD. I love it...but it's so heartbreaking. And I've come to terms with the fact that chances are very, VERY slim that it will ever be a career that can actually support me. And if you think I'm waiting tables or folding t-shirts or answering phones for people who are way dumber than me for the rest of my life, you've got another think coming.

Writing is a passion. I love it. But it ain't all that much easier to break into than acting is...and screenwriting means staying in this cesspool called Hollywood, with its black heart and fake smiles - and the traffic. Ooooh, that traffic.

But what else is there for me? I'm reeling in my chair, just trying to figure out what sounds less painful to me - going back to school for a teaching (?) degree, or digging into a field like real estate or travel? And the worst part of it is, I'm no longer a spring chicken. I'm not that sprightly and attractive 20-something go-getter that every company wants to hire because she's smart and young. It's not easy to consider starting anew at the ripe old age of 32, in any field. Can I really go back to being someone's assistant - someone who is likely younger than I am? And have I already mentioned how utterly annoying it is to work for someone who I could outsmart on any standardized test, any day of the week, possibly blindfolded? This isn't hubris here, people, this is rock-hard reality. There are a lot of ass-dumb people out there running the world.

So I don't know. So here I sit. So my brain rots as I scream at my computer for the fast money round not including any questions about movies or tv.

But at least I got the ball rolling on writing again...even if it's just for this meager little blog o' mine that very, very few people will ever see. Sometimes you've just got to do it for yourself.

(that's what she said.)

The Not-So-Amazing-Race

I've been a fan of CBS' "The Amazing Race" for many seasons, and my mom and I even applied to be on the show earlier this year (we would've been part of the current season, which just started Sunday night).

We were bummed that we weren't called, but after watching the premiere on Sunday I found myself less bummed and more angry - seriously, THESE are the people you've chosen to compete on the show?? THESE are the people you think America will find interesting enough to watch for several months?? My mom and I are real people with an actual, meaningful relationship - sure, we might not provide the drama of "ooh, are they gonna break up?!?," but at least we would've been LIKABLE (I think).

Here were my thoughts after watching:


Could they make worse casting choices?!?

In past seasons, the teams I found the least interesting were always the young, "dating" couples, the ones who ALWAYS say the race will either make them or break them - supposedly they're either headed for a separation or marriage.

Well, guess what - if you're facing that sort of dilemma, chances are good you aren't right for each other. Booooring.

Yet this season is chock full of these teams - so many, in fact, that I'm having trouble distinguishing them.

The rest of the field is made up of semi-famous people who don't really seem like they need the money, so why should I root for them?? There are only a couple of teams that actually feel like "real" people, and no one seems particularly smart - what happened to having some brainiacs on the Race? Half the fun is watching the competition between brains and brawn - seeing the smartypants dominate the mind puzzles while the athletes win the physical challenges.

I used to love this show, but I'm not sure I can stick out this season - and I've heard the same from many others who used to be fans. Here's to hoping the producers & casting peeps try a little harder next time around.

BITCH FEST #3

BITCH FEST #3: People parked in their cars on the side of a busy street who decide to unceremoniously throw their driver's side door wide open into oncoming traffic.

You know what I mean.

You're driving along in the right-hand lane of a busy street - I mean, it's got to be at least SOMEWHAT busy, after all, there is more than one lane going on here. You're rolling along, minding your own driving bidness, when out of the blue you see what looks to be a fairly large object flying at the front of your car.

Giant, angry sewer rat? Misplaced tumbleweed? No, sir. Just some d-brain who decided it was time to give some innocent motorists a little taste of cardiac arrest.

If I'm in my parked car on a busy street, here's what I usually do. I crack my door carefully, wait for traffic to slow (if not totally stop), then I gradually open the door inch by cautious inch, until I can just barely squeeze my side-turned butt out of the car. I do the same when re-entering the vehicle. Stop, stand, look, wait, open/jump-in all at once.

But not everyone follows these simple steps...oh nooooooo. Some a-munchers clearly think they're the only people on the planet, as evidenced by their blatant ignorance of the vehicular death they nearly caused.

Why in god's name would you ever - EVER - throw your door completely WIDE OPEN into traffic?!? I've only got about a foot and a half of room to spare in the first place, and your 3 foot long door suddenly entering my airspace means I have to choose between swerving dangerously close to the car in the left-hand lane or risk leaving a good chunk of my paint on yours, either of which could result in any number of catastrophic outcomes.

So please, idiot person in your parked car, the next time you're about to fling open your door into the middle of crazy L.A.-style traffic, stop and think a moment about the fact that you could seriously harm someone...and the fact that I've vowed to take your hand off with my side-view mirror the next time it happens.

Sorry - I guess I just didn't see you there! Sucks that you can't drive anymore, what with your one-hand and all. (And to the rest of the human race....you're welcome.)

My Brain, the Nerf Football

Why does it have to be so d*mn difficult to get back into the swing of things after a great vacation???

Granted, I'm not doing much these days...writing from home, walking the dog, taking some classes...but even that stuff seems like the ultimate grind after a long weekend of complete and total R & R.

If only life could be an endless stream of vacation days...

Of course, if I had a more solid feeling of where I'm going with my life (professionally, not personally), that might help. This state of constant flux, not knowing what I'm meant to do with myself, not sure what my future will hold or if I'll ever, EVER find a career path that I find (at the least) tolerable...it's a bit much at times. Particularly after a break from it all, not thinking about these overarching concerns for five whole days...let's just say that I've had a fairly rough time slipping back into the realm of self-flagellation.

Ugh.

Channeling my Inner Dude

For some reason, I've always felt that I've had more guy-like tendencies than most girls.

No, I'm not into chicks.

But I do love reading sci-fi and fantasy novels (like 'Lord of the RIngs,' NOT like that romantic fantasy BS with Fabio on the cover), I adore action movies, and my sense of direction is superior to most.

Take for example the 'Transporter' films.  Many girls wouldn't let their BF's drag them kicking and screaming to see these movies, and if they did, they'd gossip to their girlfriends the next day about how awful it was and how hideous their BF's movie taste is.

Not me.  I love those films - well, maybe not the third one so much...even the fights were lame.  But I can watch Jason Statham kick butt any day of the week.  No, not because he's ripped, but because I admire his martial arts skills and the fact that he does his own stunts (for the most part).  The dude rules.  He's the dudeliest.

Luckily, none of this seems to bother my fiance.  It just gives us more to talk about.

I'll never forget, though, the day my mom found out that I watched so many episodes of "The A-Team" and "Knight Rider" in my youth that I have more memory of those shows than I do my own elementary school friends' names.  Ah, the look of horror that crossed her face when she realized how much crappy testosterone-fueled television I imbibed behind her back as a young child!

The books are all her fault, though.  She got into reading sci-fi with my uncle when they were kids, and therefore my house growing up was packed to the gills with Asimov and Heinlein. I had a book in front of my face as soon as I learned to read (which was at a ridiculously young age), and it was never any of that sappy girly nonsense.  My version of chick lit was Nancy Drew.  Because she was a total bad-ass.

Maybe it's because of all this that I ended up being more likely to want to catch "Crank 2: High Voltage" rather than go clothes shopping or paint my nails.  And why I usually relate more in conversation to dudes than chicks...hence my sad lack of lady-friends.

Sometimes I'm a little embarrassed by how guy-like my tastes seem to be.  Then again, I do enjoy some "girly" things, like frou frou martinis and cooking dinner for my fiance.

As long as we can have a full-blown kung fu battle with the kitchen utensils afterward.

I Need a Hero!

Just noticed I haven't blogged in over two months...pretty sad state of affairs.  I blame it on the play I'm in - memorizing lines takes up a lot of brain-space.

I saw something on CNN the other day and realized I had to write about it - it made me so, SO angry.  They called it a "real-life Footloose" - a senior at a Catholic high school went to his girlfriend's public school prom, after which he was suspended and won't be allowed to walk with his class at graduation this summer - all because his school has very strict rules against music and dancing.

I was floored by this.  Does this really still exist in America today?  Did we not pass into a new millennium nine years ago?  And as much as I loved it, wasn't "Footloose" pretty G-D corny?

Frankly, I think having rules against anything is pretty much equivalent to asking for teen rebellion.  ESPECIALLY when it's something like this.  Music and dancing have been part of human culture throughout all of recorded history.  They have been used to celebrate, to commemorate, to show love and express joy, to alleviate the negative and bring people together.

How on earth can something so beautiful be turned into something to be afraid of?  It boggles my mind.  I understand the church's correlation between slow-dancing and sex, I suppose.  But I would argue that one does not necessarily lead to the other, and that if a teen is going to have sex, they're probably gonna do it regardless of what they were doing earlier in the evening.

I may be putting myself on shaky ground by saying this, but I don't think sex is the enemy.  Unwanted teen pregnancy and STD's are what we should be focusing on - a lack of sex education is the true evil, yet THAT is what's being promoted by so many in the church.

I'm not saying I condone underage sex - but I don't think it's realistic to fight against it, either.  Be supportive of your kids, let them know that it's more important to you that they are SAFE and PROTECTED - that's what my mom did for me, and I seemed to work out okay.

And this nonsense about music and dancing?  I don't care if this kid's school had rules that he knowingly broke - they were idiotic rules to begin with.  I don't blame him one bit.  This school should be ashamed of itself.  I'm willing to bet they don't have any rules against aggressive, competitive sports.

Religion shouldn't be all about fear and control, it should be about love and compassion and joy.  I guess I'll keep hoping for a rebellion...and not just from the teens.

BITCH FEST #2 - Automatic Toilets!!!

Okay, so the guys out there in Blog-land won't be able to relate as much to this piece, I'm sure, but I'm hoping I'll find some fellow commiserators amongst the ladies.

I have a thing with public restrooms.  To put it bluntly, I hate them.  My maternal grandmother had a pretty severe case of OCD, and I'm fairly certain that's where I get my base fear of the toilet stalls that exist outside of the comfort of my own home.

I often gets chills when I enter a stall - literal chills.  I shake in revulsion.  I have been known to walk an entire line of 30+ stalls in order to find the least offensive offering.  And I wash my hands repeatedly and obsessively, doing everything in my power to avoid touching faucets, handles, and doors afterward.

Because of all this, I am very fond of the trend toward automatic bathroom fixtures.  I'm a HUGE fan of automatic sinks and paper towel dispensers (or even better environmentally-speaking, automatic air dryers), and the advent of the automatic soap dispenser is a thing of true beauty.  I can't wait for EVERY establishment to get on board.

But the one device that continually picks at my sanity is the automatic toilet.  Why can't they get this damn thing right????

I guarantee that every woman out there has experienced the following situation:  Enter stall.  Do your thing.  And just a few seconds before you're ready for it, the toilet flushes.  Sigh of frustration.  Okay, NOW you're ready.  But the toilet isn't gonna flush again, as you didn't sit back down and activate the sensors.  You try waving your hand at the sensor, maybe put your foot in front of it to simulate a seated body.  Nothing.  So you hunt and search for the elusive "manual" button, which is of course too small to hit with your foot, and therefore you are left with the disgusting task of having to TOUCH THE TOILET AFTER ALL.

Not only has the entire purpose of the automatic toilet been defeated, you've also succeeded in 1) wasting water and 2) boiling your brain into a barely-controlled fury.

And I've actually been in stalls where the exact OPPOSITE situation occurs.  Enter stall, do your thing, finish, wait.  Wait.  Wait.  And nothing happens.  So, certain that the automatic toilet mechanism is on the fritz, you begin your search for the aforementioned manual button.  And just as you get right down there, with your face hovering mere disgusting inches from the toilet, guess what?  Flush.  Not only is it aggravating, it's totally, completely, undeniably repulsive.

Why can't these people get the damn things RIGHT???  Is the timing really THAT hard to manage?  Are the female engineers assigned to designing the mechanism the fastest wipes in the West or what?!?  (Sorry, gross out factor.)

You know, if the timing on these things is THAT difficult to figure out, then just leave be.  Gimme an old-school manual flush handle any day of the week - at least I can hit THAT thing with my foot.

Oh, and while we're at it, can we get on the task of creating an automatic toilet paper dispenser?  The female populace thanks you.

Driven to Distraction

Oh, what to do?

The problem at hand is vehicular in nature.  You see, I have what many have called extremely bad luck when it comes to cars.  I've owned more cars in my life than I care to admit, and I'm always ready for the latest one to crap out on me.

My previous car was a fiasco...I got a bright and shiny Saturn in 2002 - my very first BRAND NEW CAR.  The warranty expired after three years, and at year four (one year shy of having the car paid off) the car decided to stop working.  This was accompanied by some pretty awful noises and rather copious amounts of smoke, all of which was caused by some sort of engine cracking which I was told was not my fault.

Not my fault, huh?  You'd think that would mean I was entitled to my money back or a free Saturn or something wonderful of that nature.

In my dreams.

But they did work out a deal with me where they would wipe out the remainder of what I owed on the car (minimal at that point) in exchange for taking the car off my hands for parts and whatnot...as long as I sat down and signed the papers on a NEW car that very day.  This seemed a win-win situation to me, as I certainly couldn't live my life in L.A. without a motor vehicle, and although my previous Saturn had exploded for no apparent reason, I still trusted in the brand - don't ask me why.

So I signed off on a new car...as a lease.  You see, I figured that if I couldn't keep a brand-new car alive for four years, why not just switch them up every three?  That way, I'd always have a shiny new vehicle, and I'd never have to worry about something going horribly, awfully wrong and perhaps stranding me in East L.A.  (I don't know why I'm in East L.A. in this scenario, as I don't go there on a regular basis, but it fit my parameters for a place I would not want to be stranded, so sue me).

So here I am, at the tail end of my three year lease (did you already figure out the math, you sly devil, you?), and I really have no idea what I should do next.  My preference is whatever is cheapest, but that ain't so easy to figure out right now.

You see, I have been in two sizable accidents in this car - both times the car has been repaired through my insurance, but the repairs were substantial and I'm not exactly sure how that will go over with the folks at Saturn.  Also, I had an incident in a parking garage that resulted in a rather long and horrific scratch on the side of my car - which has NOT been fixed.

There are a few other issues, none of which are my fault, but I'm not sure the dealership will see it as theirs.  For instance, one measly month after I got the car, the cover to the driver's side visor mirror fell off.  Literally fell off.  I didn't even touch it.

Last year, the front passenger side window broke for no good reason.  It rolls down, but comes up crooked (someone told me the window grips inside of the door mechanism must have come loose).

And a few months ago, the right side window washing valve stopped working.  When I pull the lever to squirt solvent onto my windshield, only the driver's side gets the juice.  Hey, at least it's the important side, right?

See what I mean?  The car isn't even THREE YEARS OLD.  What the hell???

So here are my options.  1) Finish off my lease and switch over to making payments to actually BUY the car in question, keeping fingers crossed that nothing else goes wrong with it.  2) Fix the scratch & other issues on the car (probably thousands in repair work), then turn it in to Saturn and wash my hands of them. 3) Turn the car in to Saturn without the repairs, be charged probably double that amount by them, but still get to wash my hands of them.

Of course, option 3 is probably out of the question, as it will likely be the most expensive route.  But between 1 and 2, I simply cannot decide which would be the better choice - do I stick with a car that already seems to be falling apart but save the money on external repairs, or do I shell out for the repairs, get rid of the pesky damn Saturn, and switch over to a new car from a different company?  Either way, I'm still stuck with car payments for the next several years, though admittedly fewer of them if I choose to stick with the Saturn.

Whew.  Long-winded, and pretty boring stuff.  I apologize.

You know, just from writing all of that down, I think I see what I need to do, which is stick with the G-D Saturn from hell.  Great.  Will someone PLEASE win the lottery for me, PLEASE???

Then I could just hire a freaking chauffeur.

The Ties That (Legally) Bind

Okay.  I considered making this post my second Bitch Fest, but as I couldn't decide how to label my target, I chose to just make this my typical rant.

Most of you know that I was very much against Prop 8 here in California, which passed last November.  For those that aren't in the know, it was a proposition to our state constitution which prevents people of the same sex from legally marrying.  It reversed a decision made by California's Supreme Court a few years ago to allow these marriages.

I even wrote a prior blog piece about it - "Why I Think Prop 8 is Wrong."  Feel free to look it up if you're in the mood for more angry tirades.

This topic remains an issue - it went before the Supreme Court a matter of days ago.  And of course, the news outlets covered it...which means they had plenty of "man on the street" type interviews on the subject.

Now, I know people who are against legalizing marriage for same-sex couples.  I don't agree with them, but some of them have arguments that I TRY to understand, although most of the time I simply don't.  I don't see how two people wanting to express their love for one another has anything to do with anyone else.  They're not hurting anyone.  Right?

What I saw that set me off, that drove me to write about this subject once again, was an on-the-street interview with a woman (who I will not name, of course) who said the following (yes, this is a direct quote, I rewound several times to make sure I got it verbatim):  

"Marriage is created for family.  And if you're two men or two women, you can't have family unless you ask someone else to do it for you."

First and foremost, this statement enraged me because she's now taking this beyond an argument over the definition of marriage - she's now making it about the definition of family.  Marriage is created for family?  Really?  Because I'm about to get married, to a man I love with my whole heart, but we're not sure at this point in time if we ever want to have kids.  Therefore, should we not be allowed to wed, if marriage is strictly for FAMILY?

And who is this woman to tell me that my fiance and I aren't a "family" of our own?  Since when do you have to have children in order to be considered a "family?"

And as far as "asking someone else to do it for you" - so, you're telling me, a couple who adopts a child, that's not a real "family?"  It's only truly a family if you have the kids yourself?  What about artificial insemination - does it really make a difference if the woman is gay or straight?  Does one have a family, and the other not?

This line of reasoning was so insensitive, so hideous, that I couldn't help but scream at my television (sorry neighbors).  What gives this woman the right??  Marriage isn't just about family.  The act of marriage is about love, plain and simple.  It shouldn't be bound by any further terms than that.

It's almost as ridiculous as those who rage about preserving the sanctity of marriage whilst signing the papers on their third divorce.

I hope all of their "families" forgive them.

Bitch Fest #1

All right, so I thought about making this a completely separate blog page, but in the end I  decided no one wants to visit two separate pages.  Therefore, I will simply be keeping THIS blog, filled with various life observations and deep thoughts...

...BUT occasionally interrupted by pieces that I'd like to cohesively title "BITCH FEST, or 365 Things I Feel Entitled to Complain About."

Every now and then, I feel the need to rant.  Usually it's about stupid sh*t, stuff that really doesn't mean all that much in the grand scheme of things.  But man oh man, sometimes...sometimes it just wells up within your soul and you just HAVE to let it out, you know what I mean?

And I figure it's safer for everyone if I vent in the written word as opposed to...well, anything else.

So here it is, take it or leave it:  my first installment of Bitch Fest.  Please enjoy the anger.

BITCH FEST #1:

PEDESTRIANS!!!

Okay, perhaps I should amend that to read RUDE pedestrians.  But lately they've all felt the same, they all seem incredibly rude, and therefore I lump them as one large mass.

I've been walking a lot lately.  I always try to walk, considering I have no other athletic activity that I actually enjoy in any way, but lately I've been doing even more of it.  Anything that's within a feasible distance, I hoof it.  The grocery store (as long as I'm not stocking up, that is), the nearest mailbox, the local Quizno's (which has unfathomably been replaced by a Subway, an act which deserves a 'Fest' of its very own, surely.)

Not only is this a health-conscious thing for me to do, it's also environmentally friendly (no car = no excess black crap in the air), and, I thought, less-stressful than dealing with L.A. traffic.

L.A. traffic is the worst traffic.  Ever.  I refuse to believe otherwise.  It's not just the sheer, overwhelming number of cars on the road...it's the utter stupidity out there, the unbelievable jerk-wads who think they have the right to zip in and out of lanes, the abundance of pickup trucks piled high with oodles of construction/repair/furniture odds and ends that I just KNOW are going to come flying out of that truck bed and through my windshield one of these days.

It stresses me out.  Bad.  I try to drive as little as possible.  Hence, more walking.

Where I encounter PEDESTRIANS.

What I have discovered, to my despair, is that just because you've taken the drivers out of their cars, doesn't mean you've made them any less rude and/or moronic.

Perhaps it's just my humble Midwestern sensibility - I go out of my way to step out of an elderly woman's path, I hustle across the intersection if a car is waiting for me, things of that nature.  It's just common courtesy to me.  I can't imagine doing anything else.

It seems that not everyone was brought up with such lofty ideals.  Certainly not the family who continued to walk all four abreast as we approached one another on a narrow strip of sidewalk.  Me with my two overflowing grocery sacks (because, of course, I always get just a liiiiittle bit more than I should, considering I have no motor vehicle with me), them laughing, talking, ignoring the fact that I was coming steadily closer.

You know how this ends.  I moved off the sidewalk.  I was actually forced OFF THE SIDEWALK by these a$$holes who couldn't see fit, not even one of them, to at least drop back.

Unbelievable.  I'm not asking you people to walk in the freaking street, I wanted to shout back at them.  And this happens to me ALL OF THE TIME.  It blows my mind.  It is SO rude.

My mood was only worsened by the pair of giggling teenage girls standing at the next stoplight.  They were there before me, so I assumed that they had already pushed the walk button - silly me!  Now, normally I would push it in any case, never knowing if someone was a forgetful goober or if the system had registered the request or whatever, but in this case the girls were of course standing directly in front of the button.  I didn't ask them if they'd pushed the button, nor did I ask them politely to move aside so that I could do so - after all, that would be rude.

The light changed.  The red hand stayed put.  The girls looked confused.  They pushed each other jokingly.  A car, which had been waiting to make a right-hand turn in front of us, had to pull to a sudden stop as the girls decided, last minute, to simply make a dash for it.  

And me?  I got to wait on the corner through two more light changes.

Is a little courtesy too much to ask here??  The willing stupidity and downright obnoxious behavior that these people are soaking in disgusts me.  People have no respect!!

Oh god, I'm becoming an old person.  Well, put me in a home then - it's gotta be better than the stuff I've gotta deal with out here.

Stop.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Anger dissipating.  Okay...whoo.

Clearly, these walks are going to be the death of me.

Shock and Awe (and a Four-Tiered Cake)

Well, I did it.

No longer can you call me inexperienced or naive, for I have expanded my borders and taken the leap.  What with my impending marriage and all, I thought it was probably about time.

Time...to attend a Bridal Show.

I had found many references to these shows in my newly acquired arsenal of wedding magazines and how-to guides ("Wedding Planning for Dummies" is on my shelf, no lie).  Pictures of beaming brides-to-be tasting wedding cake, winning fabulous prizes, and ogling the latest trends in bridal fashion splayed across the glossy pages like a tantalizing morsel of forbidden fruit - dare I plunge myself into this girly frivolity, shucking away my life-long image of my self as an independent Chick who lives for science fiction and wouldn't be caught dead in Swarovski crystals???

Alas, I dared.

I arranged to meet up with a friend at the show, a fellow soon-to-be-Mrs. who is getting hitched in the fall.  Neither of us has done much planning, and it was a first-time expo experience for both of us.  We went in with high hopes and a sense of excitement - which of us would be winning a chic honeymoon to Fiji??  How many dresses would we need to snap pictures of during the runway show??  And perhaps most importantly, just how many caterers would we get to sample, and could we possibly procure a second helping if necessary??

Sadly, all of my bridal show dreams were crushed, juiced, and sieved into the bottoms of my feet within seconds of leaving the registration table.  The organization behind the show didn't get as much turn-out as they'd hoped - either from attendees OR from vendors - and therefore the show had been moved from a massive ballroom to an oversized conference room, where three aisles of perhaps eight vendors each succeeded in looking rather sparse in even such a small space.

We timidly meandered from stall to stall, collecting a plethora of business cards from vendors we had no interest in and filling out countless forms for services we didn't need, mostly in hopes of winning a promising drawing later in the day.  We slugged our way through hard sell after hard sell until I felt my ears would start to bleed.

This began to feel like a fruitless venture, namely because both my friend and I are getting married out of town, and therefore we wouldn't be using any of these L.A.-based vendors.  But we plugged relentlessly on, in the hopes of maybe getting some fresh ideas for escort cards or floral centerpieces, and all of that chi-chi nonsense.

Finally, we reached the end of our trip through the mini conference hall, wearing matching glazed expressions, toting our plastic bags full of two tons of useless information, which of course was causing the bag handles to cut off the circulation to our fingertips.

And of all the things we had been promised?  There was one cake tasting (not so great), no food whatsoever outside of a single chocolate fountain placed mysteriously behind the stacks of plates and napkins, so that you were forced to drip molten chocolate all over the next person in line's place setting (messy and really not worth the trouble), and the only stall to give away prizes at the show rather than via a drawing sometime next year was a bathing suit company - my friend won a $100 gift certificate (only good on purchases of at least $200 - at a BATHING SUIT store).  And me?  Well I certainly got the big pull of the day - I won the "chance to enter" their trip giveaway.  REALLY??  I won an ENTRY FORM?!?  Unfair.

After this hour and a half of total pain, confusion, and misery, we plunked ourselves into a couple of seats to watch the bridal fashion show.  Finally, something that could live up to the hype!  We would get to see our first wedding gowns close-up in person and perhaps deduce which style would be most flattering on our very different body types!  Just before the show began, I whispered to my friend that I hoped they were using some "real" girls in addition to wafer-thin models, as it would be nice to see how these dresses would look on an actual real-live woman.

Lo and behold, my wishes were granted...and yes it's true: be careful what you wish for.  VERY careful.

These girls were most definitely NOT models.  Fine!  I wanted to see real figures!  However, they also appeared to be plucked off the street without a moment's notice, given no instruction on how to walk or even smile.  One girl was so slow, she would've been dead last in a race against a turtle riding a snail...I mean, painfully slow.  Instead of smiling, one of the girls wore a vacant stare, her mouth gaping open - she must have thought of this look as "chic" as opposed to "slow-witted."

And all of the dresses...all TEN of them (what?!?  That's IT?!?)...were hideous.  Awful.  Ugliest things I'd ever seen.  Not to mention they didn't even bother to find girls that would fit them.  Some of the poor girls were far too short, tripping their way down the runway.  Some of them were too heavy (one of whom even had her sloppily pinned together dress fall off right before exiting stage right).  And some were too thin, the dress wrapping around them nearly twice and therefore giving us approximately zero idea of what it should actually look like.

Once the fashion parade from the seventh circle of hell finally wrapped up, my friend and I looked at one another and said, "Well...I guess we should go."  The emcee was announcing that the bridesmaids' fashion show was about to begin as we swept up our belongings and made a mad dash for the exit...god forbid we have to sit through more of THAT.

We made it to the parking garage in one piece, laughed a little, hugged, and said our goodbyes.  Driving myself home, thinking over what had just happened, I was caught between uncontrollable gales of laughter and an appalled silence.  I felt I had just been through a war, lucky to come out the other side with all appendages intact (in this case, not arms and legs but rather my dignity and self-respect).

Yes, it was a nightmare, but I am proud of myself for getting in those trenches and tackling my inner "I-am-the-anti-bride" demons.  I'm glad I tried something new, something wholly different from my everyday life, way out of my comfort zone...

...but I fear the repercussions of having given out my personal information to soooo many vendors, especially seeing as how I clearly have NOT won any drawings and therefore any correspondence will be of the salesman persuasion.

Thank the gods for caller ID.  I wonder when the next wedding show is?

My Top Six Most Under-Appreciated Actors of the Past Few Years

So this isn't the most personal of blog posts, but it's a subject that's arisen in my mind several times in the past few weeks, so I figured what the hell - I'll hang those thoughts out to dry and see if anyone bad-mouths my laundering skills.

I come at this topic from three viewpoints:  One, as a fellow actor - I admire technique and skill in many actors out there, but am frustrated when I see someone great relegated to secondary and/or mediocre roles...Two, as a writer - many actors can live in a writer's dialogue as if it were their own - they probably wouldn't be working at all if they didn't have that skill - but there are a few out there who can really inject their own unique spin (verbally or otherwise) without overdoing it or simply ad-libbing...Three, as a rabid movie fanatic - sometimes you see a movie, and there's someone in there that you just absolutely love and can't understand why in the name of God they haven't won a major award or graced the cover of Entertainment Weekly.

With all that in mind, here are my nominees for the Top Actors Whose Names You Don't Know But Should (sorry, all you David Tomlinson fans, but I'm staying away from the classics and sticking to more current actors for the sake of the less-obsessive readers)...

6.) Joe Morton.  Take it from someone who saw him on Broadway ('Art') - the man can act the pants off of any role out there.  He's a quiet genius whose 40+ year career has spanned film, TV, and stage - and yet I bet you're thinking, 'Joe Whosit?'  Think back to one of the coolest death scenes of all time, as the scientist who birthed the technology that led to killer robots swarming the Earth sacrifices himself in an attempt at atonement ('Terminator 2: Judgement Day'), and there you have it: Joe Morton, brilliant and totally under-appreciated actor.

MUST WATCH: 'Terminator 2,' 'Speed,' Sci-Fi Channel's 'Eureka'

5.)  Justin Long.  Okay, okay, so it's not like he's hurting for roles, and he's certainly done some high-profile stuff ('Live Free or Die Hard' anyone?), but as he's having trouble making the jump from young adult comedies into more grown-up fare, I had to include him.  I knew the moment I saw him in 'Galaxy Quest' that he could be a huge star - the dude is genuinely funny, and is one of the better physical comedians out there right now (remember him getting knocked out with a wrench in 'Dodgeball?'  I nearly wet myself.).  But for some reason, he seems to be stuck with either teen comedies or small, goofy roles in larger but not necessarily better films.  Maybe a supporting dramatic role in a hefty adult drama could help him make him the household name he deserves to be.  

MUST WATCH: 'Galaxy Quest,' 'Dodgeball,' 'Idiocracy'

4.) John Michael Higgins.  I guarantee you know his face, so why not his name?  An absolutely brilliant comedian who steals every scene he's in (he's the one who sings 'Owner of a Lonely Heart' to Vince Vaughn in 'The Break Up,' remember - it was the highlight of both the trailer AND the film), he certainly deserves better than a supporting role on a critically reviled sitcom ('Kath and Kim').  And anyone who's a fan of the phenomenal Christopher Guest movies can tell you that J.M.H. is one of the funniest human beings alive.

MUST WATCH: 'The Late Shift,' 'Best in Show,' 'A Mighty Wind'

3.) Melanie Lynskey.  Waaay back in 1994, there was a little drama called 'Heavenly Creatures,' starring an unknown actress named Kate Winslet and directed by some dude named Peter Jackson.  But while Kate & Pete went on to uber-success, poor Melanie Lynskey had to fight her way up the Hollywood ladder, playing countless best friends, sisters, and women who would bring their baby to a bar ('Sweet Home Alabama').  And like John Michael Higgins, she's now stuck in humorless sitcom hell ('Two and a Half Men').  Save her, Hollywood!!  She's a wonderful actress who could totally headline a rom-com.

MUST WATCH: 'Heavenly Creatures,' 'Ever After,' 'Sweet Home Alabama'

2.) Nathan Fillion. Even dudes wonder why this guy isn't a movie star.  Sure, he's good looking, sure he's got that Harrison Ford rogue-with-a-heart thing down pat, sure he's a great actor, but he's also one of those guys who looks equally at home in drama ('Saving Private Ryan'), comedy ('Slither'), and even action ('Serenity').  He's got that elusive X Factor that makes guys want to be him and women want to be with him - so why is 'White Noise 2' on his resume???  Someone needs to find this guy his romantic-comedy-action franchise, fast.

MUST WATCH: 'Slither,' 'Waitress,' 'Serenity'

1.) Lizzy Caplan. One of my favorite actresses out there right now, and yet nobody knows who she is.  Which sucks.  As the sarcastic-but-still-a-nice-girl Marlena, she was the best part of 'Cloverfield.' (Remember the line, "I'm, like, feeling something - are you aware of Garfield?"  Brilliant.)  She's not your typical beauty, but that just makes me love her all the more.  She's actually witty, which is why her not getting starring roles when people like Malin Ackerman and Katherine Heigl are being touted as comedic geniuses is totally, totally indicative of the unfairness of the Hollywood machine.  Man up, Hollywood.

MUST WATCH: 'Mean Girls,' 'Cloverfield,' HBO's 'True Blood'