Category: Sentiment

Categories
Awesome Books Drew Sentiment

At least mine were human, Agatha.

I recently remembered this game I used to play when I was a kid and couldn’t fall asleep.  I would lay in the middle of my bed and make up this family for myself – all my own children – and take as long as possible thinking up all their names and ages.  There was always at least one set of twins.  There was no father involved, I don’t think that even occurred to me.  Then I would imagine the circumstances leading to our poverty, and why my 10 children of varying names and ages, and I, all had to share a bed.  I would assign them places around me.  Usually by the time I got to this point I was tired from all the cogitating, and would fall asleep.

When I told Drew about this, he said, “You used to daydream about being a single mother of 10?” which really put it into perspective.

But kids play weird games when they’re by themselves, and I offer this proof, from Agatha Christie: An Autobiography, published in 1977:

From as early as I can remember, I had various companions of my own choosing.  The first lot, whom I cannot remember except as a name, were “The Kittens.”  I don’t know now who “The Kittens” were, and whether I was myself a Kitten, but I do remember their names: Clover, Blackie, and three others.  Their mother’s name was Mrs Benson.
          Mrs Benson was terribly poor, and it was all very sad.  Captain Benson, their father, had been a Sea Captain and had gone down at sea, which was why they had been left in such penury.  That more or less ended the Saga of the Kittens except that there existed vaguely in my mind a glorious finale to come of Captain Benson not being dead and returning one day with vast wealth just when things had become quite desperate in the Kittens’ home.
          From the Kittens I passed on to Mrs Green.  Mrs Green had a hundred children, of which the important ones were Poodle, Squirrel and Tree.  Those three accompanied me on all my exploits in the garden.  They were not quite children and not quite dogs, but indeterminate creatures between the two.

This only makes me love her more.

Speaking of kids and their trains of thought, here’s an excerpt or two from Drew’s third-grade in-class journal.  These are all responses to writing assignments.

And my personal favorite:

This is turning into Blast from the Past week.

Categories
Beginnings Drew Friends Memoir Religion Sentiment

Wives and husbands

Yesterday was the wedding of our friends Laurie and Dale.  The thing about weddings is, no matter how prepared I think I am for them (for instance, having been at the rehearsal), I always get emotional.  There’s just something about the intimacy of seeing the ritual of two people promise themselves to each other.  When Laurie entered I kept looking from her face to Dale’s face to her face.  It was like they didn’t even know anyone else was there.  In a good way.

I did the Scripture reading, which Laurie approached me about a couple months ago.  Initially, I was a mix of honored to be asked, and terrified to be in front of all those people, and I was honest with her about that.  But I also know that what the bride wants, goes, and I was honest with her about that too.  She was honest with me about appreciating my honesty, and repeated her request.  I worried about the reading, especially as it got closer, because I’m just not a performer, or even a read-out-loud-to-other-people-er.  But I kept the verse forefront in my mind and practiced it when Drew wasn’t home, and just concentrated on generic public speaking tips: take a deep breath before you begin; keep your feet flat on the ground (when I get nervous I tend to roll them to the outside edges); read slower than you think you need to.

Some people might laugh at me because I know this is kind of an irrational fear – but it was a challenge for me. ( Hello, do I not still have dreams where I have to take an actor’s place onstage and it ends up being  just awful?)

But I am very glad I did it.  I was very flattered and honored to be a part of their ceremony and their special day, and I would have really regretted it if I had chickened out and had to watch someone else take my place.  So, Laurie, if/when you read this, thank you for asking me!  I hope you guys liked it.  (Although, if I remember correctly, when you’re up there in the dress and the makeup with the jewelry and the guy, it’s really hard to focus on anything else.)

At the reception, we were at a table with 3 friends of Laurie’s we didn’t know (but I think they traveled from afar), and 3 friends of Laurie’s that we did know, plus a boyfriend and a fiance.  Ten people…and only eight little pats of butter.  Luckily the travel-from-afar friends didn’t seem to care about the butter, and the people on the opposite side of the table didn’t even see the butter.  So there wasn’t a scene.  But there could have been.  Joe P (who we moved to New York with oh so long ago) and Drew and I made up the plot to a blockbuster film that I think could be a box office hit:  it revolves around the fastest, slickest pickpocket in the world, who goes around to weddings and sneaks the garter off the bride when no one is paying attention.  Then, when the groom goes to get it for the garter toss, there’s no garter there!  That’s when the pickpocket casually walks by and drops the garter in the bride’s lap.  The movie begins at the wedding of Luke Wilson and Dakota Fanning, and she’s got the last garter in the world.  The pickpocket is played by Colin Farrell, possibly doing an accent, but not Irish.  He and the bride originally hate each other, but by the middle of the movie have fallen in love.  At the end you find out that Luke Wilson, who has turned out to be a drinker, didn’t sign all the papers correctly and so they’re not technically married.  Then she’s free to marry to the pickpocket, who turns in his…tool that pickpockets use, and vows to walk the straight and narrow.  I may be forgetting something, but this is the gist.

At one point Joe P asked Drew and me what we were thinking while watching Laurie and Dale make their way around to each table to say hello.  He asked if we were reminiscing about our wedding.  Well, I don’t know how you can go to a wedding and not reminisce about your own, especially when it was fairly recent.  I just remember how surreal it was: an event that we had been planning for and paying for, for almost a year, and it was over in a day.  And it was a trip to see people from all different parts of our lives together in one room, sometimes at one table.  And from everyone – from our parents down to the computer teacher at my high school whose class I was never actually in – there was just an incredible amount of joy. 

I feel like, even though this year has been rough with the job searching, scraping and saving, and not always knowing how we’re going to be able to pay rent, that joy has stayed with us.  I’ve heard that the first year of marriage is actually pretty hard, because there are bank accounts to be combined and new rules to be established, but the last 8 months has felt easier in a lot of ways than the 5 years that preceded it.  Or if not easier, then happier.  Surely, more joyful.

So, while I will forget the anxiety of always feeling like there was no money (and I am assuming Drew agrees), there has been plenty this year to make up for it, that I won’t forget.  Here’s a little jewel I’ve been saving up:

There’s a path down by the ocean by the Pacifica pier, and you walk out parallel to the beach for maybe a quarter mile, and then up a staircase to the top of a crest, where you can pretend to push each other off into the ocean.  This spring, on top of this crest, hidden back in the grass, were three large puddles filled with tadpoles.  We checked on them a few times over a couple weeks, getting nervous as the water levels went down and the tadpoles didn’t seem to diminish in number.  We encouraged them to sprout legs and leave their overcrowded quarters. 
          One morning, Drew got up before me, and I dozed until I felt him sit down near my feet.  “It’s raining,” he said.  “Mmmmmm,” I said.  Then he said, “It’s good for the tadpoles.”  And I thought, Awwww.

I wouldn’t trade that kind of relationship for years of paid rent.  I’m not sure I’m saying that right, but the cheesy theme has probably rung true, so I’m going to shut up.

Categories
Awesome Fiction Sentiment

This post can be summed up simply: “Everyone writes awful stuff when they’re younger. Right?”

In my “Last 5 Books I Read” post, I talked about a story I had written when I was 14, about waking up 10 years in the future in my “perfect” life, and how unrealistic it was because clearly, as a 14-year-old, you know nothing about the real world.  Also, I had bestowed upon my future self all kinds of ridiculous honors and riches, which is just silly, because in real life, 24-year-old me worked customer service at a publishing company and watched a lot of Bridezillas and shopped at Old Navy.  And was (and I still am!) really happy.  But it just goes to show you how stupid teenagers are.

Erin left a comment suggesting that she needed to see some of this story pronto (actually, she only asked for outlines, but I like to go above and beyond), because she is very smart and recognizes the potential for entertainment when she sees it.  So, I found the story where I had hidden it (on the floor in the open, no one will look there) and I bring it to you now.

My note on the top of this small pile of papers indicates that 14-year-old me felt that this “Basically needs to be fleshed out – well…I don’t know. I think it’s too short.”  26-year-old me thinks that is a less-than-accurate representation of what the final edits need to be.  Here on out, 26-year-old me will comment in [italics], not to be confused with regular 14-year-old “thinking” italics.

THE STORY I WAS VERY, VERY, I MEAN LIKE UNREALISTICALLY PROUD OF WHEN I WAS 14

I woke to a hand on my shoulder and warm puffs of breath on my face.  There was a moment of relaxation before the initial panic set in…the very beginning of a 72-hour panic session.

I sat up in bed.  The covers were thick, and they held out the freezing cold air.  [Sounds like San Bruno sometimes, actually.]  Air that was just a few degrees too low for Lakeport temperatures.  I racked my brain, trying to come up with the date, but the closest I could come was September 8, 1998, which couldn’t be right.  The weather was supposed to be warm…even in the very early morning.  It would have to be December or January to even come close to achieving the 30 degree weather I was feeling.  [What’s all this “weather” nonsense indoors?]

All of this – my inner monologue, that is – [LOL] took place in but a few seconds, and before I could stop myself, I turned my head slightly to the left and saw someone next to me in the bed!

Beyond the sleeping lump in the covers was what I assumed to be a clock.  [But who am I to say? I’m just a 14-year-old…right?]  I could see only red digital numbers communicating to me that it was 3:51 a.m.  In the corner, tiny numbers proclaimed “9/7/08.”  I assumed that was the date [oh, I can figure some things out, but I’m baffled by a “clock”], but “08”?  Maybe it means “98,” I thought.  But the question remains: who is this beside me???

Too afraid (for reasons even I did not completely comprehend) to contemplate my present situation, I looked around the room, expecting to see my belongings: CD player to my right, desk to my left, and mirror straight ahead of me.  But oh, what I saw instead…

The first thing I noticed, as my eyes grew used to the dark, was that the room was twice as big as my bedroom.  Since I saw everything in gray in the darkness of the early morning, I wouldn’t know until daylight that the walls, instead of being the ghastly pink that they should have been, were instead a gorgeous pale green.  The bed was not my twin bed, but a king-sized bed.  The closet doors were still mirrors, but they were framed with a green marble.  And of course, the format of the room was entirely off.

I could see an open door on the far side of the room, and through it I could see what appeared to be a bathroom.  A larger door looked to lead out of the room.  [And this may be one of my favorite lines:]  The entire room is tastefully decorated, I noted appreciatively, but how did I get here?

I threw back the covers and got out of the warm bed, the cold air hitting my bare legs in a shocking gust.  I shivered, then threw on a nearby robe sporting three initials in a swirly writing.  Too preoccupied to take the time to decipher these letters, I quickly forgot about them.  Although I must have recognized them subconsciously, for the sight of them sent a rush of excitement through my system, but I blamed it on my confusion about my surroundings.  I opened the ornate door and stepped into the plushly carpeted hallway.

I moved carefully down the hall, feeling like a stranger in (what seemed to be) my own home.  I stopped at the first door on the left and pushed it open gingerly.  I was looking at a beautifully furnished bathroom, with gold faucets and white porcelain.  After a few seconds of gazing in, I moved on.

A grandfather clock at the end of the hall announced the time was 4:00 am.  I jumped when it chimed its resounding bong because my heart was already going 160 mph.  I had an instinctive feeling that I was going to realize something both wonderful and hideous very soon.

I ended up in the kitchen; I opened the fridge door.  I needed a drink.

A drink? I thought curiously.  Surely I mean, like, a Coke or something.  After all, I’m 14 years old, I don’t drink.

I steered my hand away from the bottle of wine that sat on the bottom shelf and instead grabbed a Pepsi.  [In reality, 24-year-old me, oops, spoiler alert, anyway, we never had Pepsi unless the Chinese food delivery guy brought it unexpectedly.]  Then I sat down at the kitchen table.

He found me like that.  Sitting at the kitchen table with an unopened can of Pepsi, staring off into space.  I was vaguely aware of him waving his hand in front of my face and calling my name, but I didn’t come fully “awake” until he slapped me lightly on the face.

===
[And, with that little glimpse of spousal abuse, I’m going to skip ahead.  What you’re missing: a description of myself seeing myself in the mirror for the “first” time, and I’m very pretty.  And 5’8″.  Also a description of how this mysterious man and I got married – when I was 20!  “Just post-college”!  Also,  “he” pretty instantly believes me about being only 14.  And lastly, a scribbled note written to myself: “Sex Romantic scenes?  I really don’t know…”  We can only wish.]
===

All that day, I did things on the pretext of waiting for his return.  I cleaned the house, although it only needed a light dusting and vacuuming.  I could tell that in the future, or the past, or whatever it was, I kept the house nice.

I went into my writing studio [Okay, side note: The use of “writing studio” instead of “office” reminds me of this other story I wrote when I was in kindergarten, about orphans. And I just remember that because I couldn’t remember or think of the word “orphanage” I kept writing “adoption agency” or “adoption place.”  I hope that I have since learned my lesson about how, if you can’t remember the simplest word, you shouldn’t just substitute another word or phrase that means sort of the same thing], sat down at the large mahogany desk [on purpose sentence fragment?].  I stared blankly at the dark screen of the new computer.  I made no move to turn it on, however.  For one thing, I was in no mood for writing; for another, I figured if I ever got back to the past, I wanted to live each moment brand new.  I had no desire to read some of the material I had become famous for…at least, not a strong enough desire to overcome the knowledge that I shouldn’t.

So I did menial tasks to keep my hands busy.  When I had nothing to do, I sat and stared out the window at the view of Mendocino.  Living high on a hill, we had that luxury.  [Hey! I live high on a hill now!]

The phone rang about noon.  I jumped practically out of my skin.  Staring at the receiver, I tried to telepathically figure out who it was.  If it was him, I wanted to talk to him.  But I didn’t feel like talking to anyone else…especially if I would have to figure out who it was and how I knew them.

My worry of it being someone I should have known was offset by my desire to talk to him.  I tentatively picked up the phone and said “Hello?”

“Hi.”

Good.  It was him.

“I’m surprised you answered the phone,” he said.  “I thought you would have let the machine get it.”  [Oh yeah…that would have been the smart thing to do.]

“Yeah,” I replied.  “I thought about it.”  [Liar.]  “But hey, a coward dies a thousand deaths, a brave man only once.”

He laughed.  God, how I loved to hear him laugh.  [Gag me here twice please.  Once for quoting Shakespeare (it’s Julius Caesar, I think?) and once for the sappiest line yet.]

“Good point.  Anyway, the reason I called was to say three things.  One: hi.”

“Hi,” I said.

“Two: What do you think about going out to dinner tonight?”

“Sounds great!” I said enthusiastically.  “Like, where?”

“Someplace nice.  Look,” he directed me, “in the closet there’s a long black and silver dress.  It’s pretty fancy, but I think it would be the most appropriate thing you have.”  [I am now imagining Drew picking out my clothes based on memorizing my closet.  Right.]  “I’ll be home around 6:30 tonight, okay?  I’ll call right now and make reservations for 7:30.”

“Hey, what was the third thing?” I asked.

“Oh yeah.  Three: I love you.”

“I love you too,” I said honestly.  “See you at 6:30.”

I hung up the phone gently.  Sitting in the chair, I thought about how it would feel for me to miss so many years of my life…did I want to just stay here or did I want to figure out a way back to the year where I belonged?

Then I remembered the dress.  I ran to the closet in the bedroom, threw open the doors, and rifled through the clothing until I found what I was looking for — a gorgeous (obviously designer) long black dress.  I could tell right away that this was something I had saved for.  From what I could tell about our living conditions, we had an impressive amount of money, but we weren’t rich.  [Vague, vague.]  Yet this dress…I’d bet that even a princess would be exceptionally proud to own it.

===
[Even I knew this paragraph was not great, I have notes saying “New dress – mo. one?”  I’m not sure what “mo.” stands for.  Something amazing I’m sure.  I also have a note saying “Deal with $$$ better.”  I may have been trite and a little sappy, but I was no fool.

After I try on the beautiful gown, I realize that I have to go back to the 90s where I belong.  We go out to dinner, and let me just show you the description of the restaurant.]
===

Dinner was wonderful, although I hardly tasted a thing.  I was too involved with the surroundings and the company.  There was stained glass in almost every window, and chandeliers hung from the ceiling in various places.  The atmosphere was romantic, yet tasteful.

===
[I was big on “tasteful,” right?  And yet something tells me my sense was a bit off.  You can clearly tell that at this point my experience with fine dining was JJ North’s Grand Buffet in Santa Rosa.

So then I decide to tell him that I have to go home.  The foolproof way of doing this is to go to my house in Lakeport, and spend the night there.  But we’ll wait a day or two so we can hang out.  A couple days later…]
===

At 8:30 that night, we left Mendocino and headed east.  Two hours later, I was home.

And shocked.

My house was gone.  I had not as of yet thought about what I would say to the current owners of the house when I got there, but luckily I didn’t have to…

[Not sure where I thought my parents would be at this point.  I guess when you’re 14, 24 does seem a lifetime away.]

There was an empty field, grassy and gorgeous, even at night.  I regretted not bringing a sleeping bag, but hopefully I wouldn’t have to wake up out here.  If I could just go to sleep quickly, everything would be fine.

And I had the means for that.  In my pocket was a package of (perfectly safe) tranquilizers.  [I might have meant sedatives.]  I was prepared to make the journey back to 1998.  I gulped the 2 pills dry, ignoring the bitter taste.

I lay out in the field.  It was a warm night, not yet winter weather.  I stretched out my blue jeaned legs and tucked my arms behind my head.  Looking up at all the stars, I could easily imagine that I was already back in 1998…but no, because there was the sound of his Jeep starting up.  We had agreed that he should go home and go to sleep, same as me.  Waiting for him on the counter at home were 2 pills identical to mine.

My eyelids grew heavy after awhile…how long it was I couldn’t tell.  The stars were adding to my weariness and right before I slipped off to sleep I whispered his name.

“I love you…”

I barely got the sentence out before my eyes shut and I was gone.

EPILOGUE

I sat up in bed and stretched.  The air was cool but not cold, just like usual.  My cat, Gabe, jumped on the bed and pushed his wet nose into my face.

“Yuck!” I exclaimed.  The clock on my nightstand read 6:48, and music blasted out.  It was Madonna’s “Frozen.”  [LOL]

What a way to start the day, I thought sarcastically, but not bitterly [thanks for clarifying] as I threw back the covers.  I got out of bed and started my day.

An hour later, I was in my room applying makeup to my 14-year-old face.  [FYI, I don’t think I ever wore makeup when I was 14.]  I went to spray myself with body mist [a note here reads: ?really?] and the strangest thing happened.

The mirror seemed to…change…and I saw myself as an adult.  I looked older, but not extremely different.  This flash was for a split second, but I caught it.  And I reacted the way any normal person would.

Whatever, I shrugged it off completely, saying it was a trick of the lighting, the angle, the fact that I was still a little tired, you know.

Then I remembered how I had been feeling last night.  After a day of annoying peers and condescending teachers, I had been ready for a vacation.  Unfortunately school had just begun.  I remembered thinking, If only I knew there was something to live for.  Something to work for.  Something to look forward to.  If only I didn’t feel so alone.  [Drama queen?]

I knew that feeling alone was an adolescent thing, and I was supposed to feel that way.  That didn’t help soothe my ego, though.  With the way I was feeling, it would have taken a miracle to make me feel better.

I wonder, I thought, amused, if something happened that would have made me wake up in such a good mood.  Something between last night and now.  Something amazing and wonderful.

I looked back in the mirror.

Nah.

===
And there you have it.  I know it was long, but I wanted to try to get in the good parts.  I mean, everyone writes awful stuff when they’re younger, right?  I know there is a lot more where this came from…

Categories
Awesome Beauty Nature Sentiment Tomato

High School Me, You’re Welcome

Blue sky, sun, warm breeze – I’ve had the balcony door open all day enjoying being able to hang out barefoot, in a tank top – this is like exactly what I needed.  I went out on the balcony to enjoy the sun along with my tomato plant and the flowers that the ProFlowers guy just showed up with – I thought the sun might help them “perk up” more, which I’m supposed to let them do for the next 8-12 hours – and I step outside there, admire my little plants, and then look up toward the ocean – which is when I see the fogbank rolling toward me, like something from a Stephen King movie – I can actually see the horizon and then the trees and the houses disappear as it gets closer.

I grabbed a camera to try to capture this on film, because it’s actually sort of creepy but beautiful – but the camera had a hard time focusing on the rolling fog.  I got a couple shots off.  It’s still warm(ish) and still sunny(ish).  This would never happen in Lakeport, no matter how much High School Me would have freaking loved it, haha.

Tomato plant is really flourishing. I really hope we get at least one good red tomato!
Categories
Being a girl Sentiment

The real difference between men and women

I remember reading a column in the Cal Aggie (UC Davis’ school newspaper) about the difference between the way guys and girls treated their birthdays: guys are like, “Oh yeah, my birthday’s this weekend – I’ll invite some people over and buy some beer.”  Then they’re done.  And girls spend all this time obsessing about what it will be like and what they’ll do and what they’ll wear.  Then they spend the whole day thinking, “This is my birthday breakfast!  This is my birthday bus ride to school!  This is my birthday coffee!” and so on and so forth.

I basically embody this principle, with the minor twist that I let myself off a lot of hooks because it happens to be the anniversary of the day I was born.  So it’s all about, “It’s okay if I don’t exercise today” (of course, it helps that I have been in rehearsal all day and we have a show tonight too).  Or, “I can eat a plate of tater tots for lunch,” or “Sorry I’m texting while in line at the bank, but I’ll still just finish up this text while I walk to the next open teller and send it even though normally I would hate when people do that…because it’s my birthday!”  Somehow I assume everyone around me can tell and is also letting me off the hook for my behavior.

I also thought I should get something “nice” for dinner break.  “Nice” meaning a little out of the ordinary, maybe more expensive than usual, maybe just something I wouldn’t usually pick up.  Maybe something Drew doesn’t like that I do!  I went to the grocery store to just look around and see what struck my fancy.  I walked out of the grocery store with a cache of Smart Ones frozen dinners, and one seedless watermelon (which, when I opened it up, turned out to be just okay…not great).  Like, the only food I can think of right now is “sandwiches.”  I can’t even think of what “something nice” would be exactly.  Maybe I should go stroll around Whole Foods and see if there’s anything there, because right now all I’ve got is a frozen ziti marinara and a Tupperware of watermelon chunks.

26 feels exactly like 25, only closer to 30.

Categories
Awesome Being a girl Drew Sentiment

Cucumber Eyes

I have been known to say that marriage (or co-habitation) is really just an extended slumber party.  The other night, rehearsal went until 9:00 pm.  And then, the stage manager and I taped the spikes onto the stage floor in prep for moving into the theatre the next day.  And then, I drove him home to San Francisco (the second time, and he still did not offer to chip in for gas or toll.  I’m pretty sure he catches rides in order to avoid paying the toll). 

So by the time I get home it’s around 10:30 and it’s too late for dinner, but I haven’t really eaten.  Drew cuts up a cucumber that’s in the fridge and I eat some slices and then I appropriate two slices to put over my eyes and lay on the couch.  Drew comes in and changes the channel on the TV from Frasier to Golden Girls.  “Let’s play a game.  You see if you can guess the show.”

“Golden Girls,” I say immediately.  [Pause]  A male voice says something about politics and everyone laughs.  “Stephen Colbert,” I say.  [Pause]  I hear weird intonations in a female voice and I’m not sure, then I hear the familiar voice of Quagmire.  “Oh, Family Guy, it’s the one where they’re in Lord of the Rings.”  [Pause]  Music and inspecific noises.  “Is this VH1?” I ask. 

“Nope,” he replies. 

“TLC?” 

“Yes!” 

I hear someone say, “One, two, three…”  “17 Kids and Counting?” I take a stab in the dark. 

“Yes!  How did you do that?  Are you looking?”  I cross my heart I’m not.  “But the show is now called 19 Kids and Counting, but this is an old episode so it’s still just 17 kids.”  I promise I’m not peeking.

More inspecific noises and ominous generic background music.  “Is this a Discovery show?”  (I’m thinking about shark attacks here.)  It’s not.  “Law and Order?”

“Yes!”  He practically says “OMG.”

The next one is Will & Grace, I get it immediately based on Rosario’s voice.  I then have a run of bad luck which includes Millionaire Matchmaker (I know I recognize her voice, I just can’t place it, and I’m getting smug, which doesn’t help), Unwrapped (I guess Frasier again based on the theme music) and China Mandarin Intern (which I guessed as “The China Channel,” close enough, right?).  We land on The Tonight Show, which I guess right, and then I get tired of the cucumber slices which keep sliding down whenever I talk or smile.  I take them off and consider eating them but they have mascara bits on them.

So we watch Hugh Jackman be incredibly racist for about 10 minutes (did anyone catch that?) and we never do figure out what he’s supposed to be promoting.  Maybe The Tonight Show just couldn’t get anyone else.

Sometimes after a long day you just have to relax, in inventive ways.  (Also, I’m pretty sure that the cucumber slices totally did work magic on my eyes, just the way they do, well, on TV!)

Categories
Sentiment Theatre

Christmas

For Christmas we went to Lakeport (we drove up on Christmas Eve really late) and spent the first Christmas ever with my parents.  My mom made cinnamon rolls and we ate candy all day.  Then we went to see Sherlock Holmes, but it was basically sold out (Lakeport Cinema 5 what??) but we saw Brittany and her HUSBAND and her dad and her brother.  That was weird.  Then we bought tickets for a later performance and came home and ate more candy.  When we went back to the theatre we got really good seats, and then sat around…and then saw Jacob and his entire family, and Ian Fuller and his dad, and the Andres.

I used to get so annoyed whenever I was in Lakeport and had to go out in public anywhere…because EVERY time you go out, to the store, to the gas station, wherever, you WILL run into someone you know.  But this time it was fun.  And the last time I was there, I hung out with Kirsten and her mom and her brother, and then I went to Alyssa’s house and hung out with her and met her husband…Lakeport is super fun when there are people to hang out with.  So this explains why Drew used to like to come home to Pacifica from Davis – because he could hang out with people.

Then Jacob texted me in the movie and told me to come over to his house and hang out with him and Ted and Ian, but I declined because of my family Christmas time.  Finding balance.

Sunlight

This is the show I’m working on right now at Marin Theatre Company (www.marintheatre.org).  It’s a world premiere and the show is GREAT.  I love the script, I think it’s so well-crafted, and relevant to today’s world.

I am a production assistant (basically a combination of ASM and wardrobe) and yesterday I got told I am “great at being on book.”  That might not sound like a great compliment, but it sort of made my day.  I’m going to be with MTC for the rest of their season so I’m getting really invested in it.  So far I really like all the people, and it’s been a really fun couple weeks in rehearsal.  (And payday is tomorrow, thank God.)

Everyone should come see this show.

Categories
Beginnings Drew Endings Nonfiction Sentiment

59/100

A year ago, I made a list of 100 things to accomplish in 2009.  Some things were kind of a stretch and I could have guessed wouldn’t happen:

-visit Madame Tussaud’s
-see a Cirque du Soleil show
-buy a Macbook (and pay it off)

Some things were relatively minor and should have happened but never did:

-read in a bath
-buy a lottery ticket 5 times
-stay up all night

Some things were too general, not easily quantified, and I learned a lesson about that:

-stop saying Oh my God
-drink 32 oz of water a day (I know, I know, but it’s harder than you’d think to do something EVERY SINGLE DAY)

Some things I didn’t do before we left New York:

-Top of the Rock
-Tryon Park with Erin

But I checked 59 of the 100 things off of the list, including:

-Move back to California…by driving
-Watch a sunrise
-Send Valentines to my family
-Read the classics I own and haven’t read yet (Wuthering Heights, Mrs. Dalloway, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, etc.)
-Stage manage another NYC show (2 this year)
-Go on rollercoasters (Six Flags New Jersey)
-Take the CBEST (and pass it!)
-Go gambling (and win!)

I also had some experiences this last year that I didn’t put on my list, but consider noteworthy:

-Get engaged
-Run around the reservoir in Central Park
-Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge
-Get married
-Get a pedicure (my first, and then second)

Good times, 2009.  I knew it was going to be an exciting year.  I look forward to a happy and calm 2010, filled with paying off debts and enjoying California!

Categories
Beginnings Memoir Sentiment

A new year, a new decade, a new domain.

So it’s not quite 2010, but I wanted to take this for a test drive before I officially made the switch.  My goal here is to be able to document myself now, without thinking about those pesky archives from when I was 20 years old.  It’d also be great if this was interesting to other people and not just myself.

Hopefully WordPress will end up being a better resource for me than LiveJournal is now…although we had our years together, didn’t we, LJ?