*emossnation

A long time gone and a year in review

2010-01-01T17:49:00.000-08:00

Seeing as my last blog post on this site was summer of 2008, I'm guessing I've lost more or all of my readers. Totally fine. I'm not upset with you for leaving. I'd leave, too. But, guess what? I'm back. And I've tried to entice you back with a very snazzy photo of me and my new HUSBAND (yes, 2009 brought a marriage). That mustache on his face is not real, but it made a real statement.

Today is the FIRST day or 2010 and I thought it appropriate to blog again on this poignant day.

It's too much to think about trying to catch you up on all things 2009. Besides, 2009 is sooooo yesterday. Know what I mean?

I figure, I keep writing, things will surface about the year that has just passed. I will briefly bullet point a few highlights, to which I will reply to any specific questions from my non-existant fans.

2009 in bullet points:

New Years Eve 2009 was spent meeting my now-husband's parents for the first time
February 21st 2009 - I got engaged. I had worked all day at the Film Independent Spirit Awards and had no idea that I'd be coming home to a candlelit house, champagne, rose petals and the most beautiful ring I've ever seen.
March 26 2009 - I turned 26. Eh.
April 2009 - My friend, Amy, who has been immobile for the past year got an artificial disc placed in her lower back and she can walk again! Miracles do happen. I learned a lot about the Lord during this time in my life (her illness and recovery).
May 1 2009 - X-Men Origins: Wolverine opens #1 at the box office. My name appears in the credits as "Assistant Visual Effects Coordinator."
May 2009 - My writing partners and I had our first ever meeting with a manager about our TV drama pilot script that we wrote.
June 2009 - My grandfather, "Binks," passes away. He was the true definition of a patriarch and lived the most Christ-like life I've known.
July 4 2009 - Our nation's birthday. Also, my wedding day. Greg and I affectionately call it "Dependence Day." The setting: the blazing hot South. My hometown of Lake Charles, Louisiana. Fireworks. We left by boat. Amazing. From Louisiana a honeymoon in Costa Rica where we ziplined over the tree tops of the jungle.
July - September 2009 - Worked on the set of a giant film directed by the legendary Garry Marshall. The film is called Valentine's Day. It stars every actor every in Hollywood. Ever. I worked as the script coordinator and also appeared on screen making out with my husband in a scene with Anne Hathaway and Topher Grace. I also became eligible to join the SCREEN ACTORS GUILD! Go see it FEBRUARY 12, 2010!!! See trailer here: PLAY TRAILER
October 2009 - Our short film, GRANDE DRIP, wins the coveted Audience Award at the Heartland Film Festival in Indianapolis for "Best Short." Our short has played at a total of 7 fests, with more to come!
November 2009 - I make the decision to begin pursuing acting. I book a small scene with Reese Witherspoon and host a sporting event for Sports Studio Casting. I also start working for a commerical casting director, running camera and learning the ropes.
December 2009 - My dad takes my husband duck hunting for the first time over Christmas break. Santa brings me golf clubs so that I can pursue my new pasttime and perfect my shot.

As more comes to my head, I'll likely update these bulletpoints. But there it is. Pretty jam-packed, eh? Funny thing is that I feel that 2010 will be even BIGGER AND BETTER. God willing!

-emosswilson

tickin' on down life's poop shoot

2008-07-23T19:38:00.000-07:00

current time: 9:40 pm on wednesday july 23rd. current mood: giddy. the source of my child-like giddiness comes from the most unusual of places. the ice cream man, you might guess? nope. a fresh batch of puppies? huh-uh. hannah montana? not even close. the elation and excitement pouring forth from my being stems from a colon. yes, you read it right. a large intestine. a crap canal. the long squiggly thing that connects the small intestine to the poo hole. at precisely 7:15 tomorrow morning i'll be meeting my uncle at his office at memorial hospital where i will then be wisked away to the ladies' locker room, outfitted in scrubs (YES!) and taken into surgery. and while the details of the exact procedure are still a mystery, the fact that i'll be in the OR watching someone get sliced open is enough to send me over the moon.

friday, july 11th, was my last official day working at 20th century fox. the feelings were certainly bittersweet, but i have no doubt that all the "good" parts of that job will carry over into my life, like the people, for example. they will all be in my life in one way or another. but i couldn't stay for other people. it was my time for me to move on. i knew it. and the Lord knew it. and He made no bones about telling me loud and clear to just...go. the daily duties of my job weren't exactly thrilling or fulfilling. i had hoped to go out on a film but after over a year, that desire had not come to fruition. it was no one's fault really, well unless you count Owen Wilson and the entire collection of Hollywood writers.

so, i left. partly because of my sedentary existence that was driving me crazy, partly because of the men's restroom that lingered a mere 5 feet from my sensitive nostrils, and mostly because i just knew that i needed to DO MORE. that feeling not only included dreams and aspirations in the world of entertainment, but also my medical school yearnings. i swear, the best way to describe my love-hate relationship with this medical school thing is to compare it to a puppy that wants to play SO bad and just keeps nipping at your heels. medical school is that puppy. i imagine it to be a little lab or retriever. sometimes i want to play with it and other times i want nothing to do with it (those are the times where a cute baby has stolen my attention away from the fluffy puppy). note: the baby here = entertainment. after going non-stop in LA for 3 years, the abrupt halt into unemployment was a bit jarring. i decided to take a trip home to lake charles to visit them fam, relax, and hopefully catch a surgery or two...just to give the puppy a little treat (a beggin strip, perhaps).

i arrived home in lake charles on july 18th after a swift 24 hours in houston (that included hooters, the aquarium shark voyage, and my dad driving semi-intoxicated). my la pal, em rose, decided to come to lc-towne with me and experience the South in a new way. she, too, needed some R&R and, let's be honest, there's no place better to tick-on-down than right here in SWLA.

em rose and i had a great time. 3 days of non-stop action that was surprisingly relaxing. we took the moss megastation out on the lake, went tubing on the boat, fishing on the warf, and we ate ALL the time. total vacay. when em left, i was here...alone. when i woke up on wednesday morning without her here, i felt as though one of my arms was missing. lc town can get lonesome real fast. luckily, i had one major event to look foward to - a colon surgery. not my own. but one that might very well SAVE my life...

------------

the time now is 3:10 pm on thursday, july 24th. (sidebar - x-files 2 comes out tomorrow, how excited are you!?) this morning, as i was eating my pepperidge farm cinnamon swirl toast, i never imagined that i would be sitting here able to say i held a human right ascending colon with a tumor. but them is true words! i met uncle ken in the lobby of lake charles memorial hospital and swiftly headed upstairs with him to the women's locker room where i got changed into scrubs. as soon as in donned the blue cotton duds and cinched the drawstring around my waist, i felt connected to something. i felt not only connected to family but also to a purpose. i imaged making that dressing or "suiting up" ritual a part of my daily routine. these mere pieces of cloth being the armor that i would put on to walk into battle with a foreign invader on behalf of someone else's body. ATTACK.
i walked down the hall around to the nurses station and looked for Cori, the nurse who was helping to prep the patient. i spotted her cap from down the hall (it had some festive little bears on it...or something) and she motioned for me to "come this way." and so i did; i follow directions well. she told me to snag a mask and hop on into the OR. as i tied the last knot in the mask around my face i kept thinking about how lucky i am. upon merely asking, i'm about to walk into a supremely private moment in one man's life - a moment that is literally life or death. i can't help but wonder WHY the Lord has placed this interest inside of me, this desire to HELP people, this love for science and the body? and WHY, with all of that...stuff...did the Lord nearly equally place inside of me this passion to tell stories and to create and write and appreciate art? when i'm on a set, i feel like there's no other place i'd rather be. but standing here, standing on the cold tile floor in the OR, machines pumping and beeping, nurses sterilizing and prepping scalpels and clamps, why here, now, do i never want to do anything but this?

the patient was awake when i walked in. he was alert. and scared. the anesthesiologist was getting ready to put him under as the nurses were prepping the body. as i walked over to the patient he began to fade away and within a matter of minutes he was gone. the "milk of anesthesia" had done it's job, along with a short term muscle relaxer. the nurse then began to shave the abdomen and the anesthesiologist asked me if i wanted to help to put a tube in. "yea!," i replied. "let me go get some gloves." when i walked over to the glove box, my uncle was standing there. i had been in the OR the whole time so i didn't really realize that my uncle had gone away to "get pretty" (as he calls it) and had come back in sterile. i put on my gloves just about the same time that he cracked a joke and, in what was an involuntary comedic response, i reached out and slapped him on the shoulder. oops. my bad. he looked at me and i immediately knew what i had done - touched his sterile gown. he made it not a big deal at all and just changed his gown and gloves quickly on the opposite side of the room. note to self: sterile means sterile. don't hate or contaminate!

i moved back over to the patient and placed my hands on a KY-lubed tube that was to go in through the nose and down the esophagus into the stomach. the anesthesiologist got it started and once it was in i took the reigns. i slowly slid the tube down, fighting a little resistance but nonetheless making it down the GI tract. every once and a while he'd have me stop and he'd affix a suction to a port to see if any green bile came back through the tube. that was a good sign (it meant we had arrived at our destination). once the tube was in, the cutting began. i'll be honest, i wish i could have made a few cuts but i think that might have been a little unethical. the primary midline incision down the right side of the abdomen didn't look incredibly hard. but once through the fact, tissue, and muscle we hit the mother-load as the abdominal cavity opened up. my uncle grabbed a retractor to open up the space for easier working conditions and the swiftly plunged his hands inside our patient. his hands were there one minute and gone the next, deep inside the body poking and prodding. one thing he was doing was feeling the liver to make sure it was clear of any palpable tumors. after that, it was time to find that damned tumor and remove its carcinogenic ass!

as the surgery progressed, my head bounced back and forth between the surgery in front of me and the anesthesiology going on to my right. (i was standing on a small foot stool at the patient's head). i was learning so much so fast. my mind had a million more questions but i didn't want to slow down the surgery at all (as i knew that the longer a patient is under anesthesia the more risky it is). i asked questions when appropriate and figured i'd look the rest up in my books (or on google). my uncle was voraciously attacking the right ascending colon, making sure to get all of the mesentery and "blood supply" components along with it. there were some really neat "tools" that he used during the surgery that cut so many "steps" out of what i can only imagine would have been a tedious process otherwise. one such tool performed in one swift motion a GIA (or gastrointestinal anastomosis). the tool literally bisected the bowel at the point where the right ascending colon meets the transverse colon and anastomosis (which means the connection of two structures - referring to connections between blood vessels or other tubular structures like the loops of the intestines) was done using a stapler with a 75mm cartridge. in seconds one piece of bowel became two, with both new "cut" ends already sutured shut. the sutured end of the transverse colon would remain in the patient's body, while the sutured half on the right ascending colon was about to come completely out. after a few more nips and cuts, the entire right bowel was removed and placed into a sterile bowl (this is the first "piece" of your large intestine that connects to the small intestine and also carries the appendix). when the bowel came out, uncle ken told me to go put some new gloves on and feel it. i was hoping he would say that! i trotted over and gloved up then picked up the bloody organ. it was quite large and slimy. as i palpated the bowel with my fingers it was very evident where the tumor was sitting. a hard, fibrous-feeling mass about 4 cm large. i was actually surprised that they had removed such a large section of the colon, but it makes sense, i guess. not wanting to leave behind any surrounding tissue that could be invaded and cause another tumor to form in the new area.

the nurse immediately called pathology and they were to do what was called a "frozen section" on the specimen. this means that the pathologist will immediately come up to retrieve the specimen and give an analysis right then and there before the patient is closed up. normally pathologists don't examine the tissues/organs until the following day but, in this case, there was a more urgent need for analysis. how is a frozen section made? A cryostat, a special microtome (fancy mechanical knife) refrigerated to -20 C, is sued to cut a froz en section, which is put on a glass slide, stained, and coverslipped for examination under the microscope. it was cool because as uncle ken continued to work, the pathologist spoke to him about the prelim results via intercom.

time to reattach the small intestine to the new bowel (now minus the right side). i won't go into extreme detail here but instead make it easy to understand. the GI tract (down to the poop hole) is basically like a system of connected pipes. if we think of it that way, it will make it easier to understand the new "system." i've also included a, shall we say, "rendering" of how it worked. so, the right side with the tumor is now gone. all that remains of the large intestine is what you see in GREEN below. also, notice where the small intestine USED TO connect to the part of the colon that is now gone (marked by the yellow/blue circle at the bottom. that opening to the small intestine will NOW MATCH UP with the yellow/blue circle on the wall of the TRANSVERSE COLON. uncle ken cut a small hole in the wall of the transverse colon that will match up with the mouth of the small intestine. now, this man has a new set of pipes!

as he was sewing up the new pipes, i simply stated, "man, now the way he poops will be a little different, huh. there's not as far for it to travel now." he said that i was right and started explaining how the changes would affect him. to understand that, i'll have to explain a few general body functions. first of all, the job of the large intestine (aka colon) is to absorb the remaining water from the bowel and turn it from a liquid to a solid (stool) form. the right ascending colon (which we removed) plays a major part in that water extraction. also of importance is the valve that resides at the intersection of the small intestine and colon (basically where that yellow/blue circle is above at the mouth of the small intestine). this valve (called the ileocecal value) regulates the flow of undigested food (aka chyme) from the small intestine into the bowel as it opens and closes. since we've now REMOVED this important regulatory valve, undigested food will flow more freely and fluidly into the bowel. apparently people who have a problem with constipation love this surgery. i couldn't help but think about the people on the other end...my people...the IBS people. yikes.

he sutured the edges of the mouth of the small intestine to the circular hole created in the wall of the colon. an inner and an outer suture. gotta make sure that baby is SEALED. wouldn't want anything leaking. not good. the suturing process was cool, too. i learned that there are two main categories: absorptive and non-absorptive sutures. some sutures are meant to, over time, be absorbed by the body as the tissues naturally heal in the process. then, there are others that are permanent. for example, those on the INNER seal of the small intestine/large intestine were absorptive (chromic sutures) and the outer ones were permanent (made of silk). so much to learn!

after it was all stitched up, it was time to "close." but before that could happen, a few warm bowls of saline solution were poured into the abdominal cavity. uncle ken explained that there is a limerick to recite to remember how to make sure to reduce the risk of infection. and it goes a little somethin' like this: THE SOLUTION TO POLLUTION IS DILUTION. basically, that means this - when the saline is poured into the abdomen, it finds small pockets of bacteria that are lurking around and "washes" them up and then the solution is sucked out.

as ken started sewing up the main midline incision, i realized suddenly that i was just a part of a life being saved. if not saved, certainly prolonged. i had an overwhelming sense of purpose - a feeling that people search for most of their lives. i pictured myself standing there, being the one in control, being the one to have the answers, to possess the skills. i could see it as clear as day. and i liked what i saw :)

the final staple was punctured into the stomach and the skin was closed. a job well done by all. uncle ken left the room to go and do his post-op routine (dictating the surgery, filling out meds orders, etc) but i, of course, stayed and tried to squeeze every ounce out of the experience. as the masks came off and the patient began to wake, it was over. i followed the bed form the OR to the Recovery Room, shook a few hands, and tossed my scrubs into a bin. as i put my street clothes back on, it took everything in me to NOT steal a set of new scrubs! not STEAL, but take to commemorate my experience. i didn't do it. but as i sit here, about to get ready to go to bed, i'm thinking how sweet it would be to put those babies on and crawl into bed. i think i'll have to talk to my uncle about snagging a pair of those beauts!

what am i doing right now, other than reflecting? oh, just watching HOPKINS on ABC...a medical show set at John Hopkins in Boston. (sigh) DEAR LORD - WHERE DO YOU WANT ME!????? PLEASE! observing surgery didn't PUSH me over the edge, but it certainly didn't make things any easier. i've decided that when i return to LA, i'm going to heavily start researching schools and programs and applying to post-bac programs. i can't start classes til next year anyway, so i'll have time to settle into a decision and keep pressing on doors in Hollywood. as long as i keep seeking God's will, i think either path will be blessed.

dr. moss
signing off

spring 2008 - the highlights

2008-06-11T10:59:00.000-07:00

gosh, STOP JUDGING ME! i know, i haven't written in a while. to be fair, i write more on my entertainment blog than i do here because, let's face it, my life is entertainment. however, i know that i don't write there near enough either. GET OFF MY BACK, geez.

in order to satisfy my 3 fans, i thought it best to give highlights of the last 6 months, in both words and pictures. A LOT has gone on over the first half of 2008 and it must be shared. i've learned so much, grown so much, and laughed a ton! so, here we go (working backwards from today):

june 2008 :: only 11 days in an already this month has been a doozey!

10th - blobby crim was born at 2:11 am! 5 lbs, 15 oz and 19 1/4 inches long. proud parents travis and delaine are doing well. amy and i visited baby blobby last night (not even 24 hours old) and felt honored when we experienced his "first poop." the night before, as cc headed to the hospital, greg and i made the crims a spirited cell phone video, complete with high kicks and punches to "coax" blobby down the vagina canal. it worked! *name update: SYLAS AUGUSTUS CRIM

8th - red eye red carpet for humanity event in bel air @ chateau rose. me, jessica, steph and our man-date randall but on our party clothes and headed to this fabulous event. justin mayo, exec director of red eye, inc, threw a huge silent/live auction to raise money for the creative epicenter they are building at the la dreamcenter in downtown la. justin's committed to providing a positive place for la's youth to learn and grow. all our peeps were at the party: elkin and bobby, tam and phil, meg m, the daylights, tommy two tones, caitlin crosby, and more! i felt so blessed to be in such good company. after the event, jess, steph and i went back to have randall serenade us on guitar. it was awesome! a bit jason mraz, a bit jack johnson, his voice was dreamy. we kicked it at director michael O. sajbel's house and had a little "jam session." michael, ps, is one of the nicest people in the world.

7th - happy birthday anton! after a long day of breakfast meetings and voice-over casting sessions, all the party people got to kick it old school for tony's 25th birthday! we had wine and apps at our place, then walked to clay oven and had an indian feast (yum mango chicken masala!). after that, we ended the night with ice cream cake and a dance party at casa de mossford. the shoes came off, the furniture was moved, and the moves started flowing like pimp juice. i did some splits on the floor, anton did his famous body role, crystal did her best "bon qui qui," cc rocked the stank face, and greg, jess, trac, and amy all provided a little sweet sauce of their own. and sam took pics! ha.

4th - bible study rocked! phil BROUGHT IT. the spirit was moving and the Lord was doing some HEALING work up in that place. Thanks Lord! post bs, erose, dairek and i went to a diner to give our notes on dairek's script. how fun is that? i can't disclose anything about this teen thriller but just know...it's good! after a few story tweaks, i think d will have something to be very proud of and i plan to help him get it made!

3rd -tonight i had a meeting with jeff/jm/and martim regarding our short film THE VALLEY KINGS. i really like to story but i don't know if the timing of the shoot (end of June) will work with my schedule, esp considering my commitments with the LA Film Festival. i may have to ride backseat for this one...

2nd - me and trac had dinner with the lovely holly jeter to answer any questions she might have before mike offered her the job as his assistant/coordinator! we all had a great time and holly was really sweet. i feel good knowing that my position is going into such capable hands. more than that, i like knowing that mike is getting a nice gal!

1st - the ranch! ok, so erose, dairek, amy and i headed on over to a fiesta glorious party at luke's "ranch" in north hollywood. we weren't expecting much. some good guac, maybe a few streamers, and, of course, tortilla chips. when we arrived at the evite address, we were a bit confused. all we could see what a large "forested" area on the entire corner of the block (nestled deep in NoHo). we eventually found the entrance (like the secret door in "the secret garden") and had no idea what we were about to walk into! waiting on the other side was a zen wolf/cat sanctuary and trailer park. luke's "house" was two trailers set side-by-side, plopped in the middle of nature. a wolf came up and liked my hand to welcome us to the party. as we followed a stone path around the "grounds" we arrived upon a huge turtle pond. further down the path was a wild african cat sanctuary with cages and cages of the coolest cast i'd ever seen. we then looked up to see large shells and chandeliers handing from trees. i was beside myself with excitement. who knew places like this existed?

may 2008 :: COMING SOON

april 2008 :: COMING SOON

march 2008 :: COMING SOON

february 2008 :: COMING SOON

january 2008 :: COMING SOON

check out the Lord at work...

2008-03-28T10:59:00.000-07:00

the Lord

fighting off the quarter-life crisis

2008-03-26T15:02:00.001-07:00

(*this is me on my most recent shoot checking out the new RED camera...)

welp, it is here. the day i was plopped onto this earth has arrived. well, i didn't plop out today-today. let me take you back to '83, the year "terms of endearment" won the oscar and the swatch watch was invented. 1983. a simpler time. you remember...the "moonwalk" dominated dance floors worldwide. ah, yes. that early 80s. that's when little emoss entered the world.

as i sit here, clocked in at being 25 now for mere hours, i can't help but revel in a tad quarter-life crisis.

wait, let me rephrase or re-brand that.

it's not so much a "crisis" (a true "crisis" being something more along the lines of realizing there was a hole right in the crotch of my jeans or something). no, not a crisis. i guess i'm stuck in more of a quarter-life evaluation, my head filled with little "check boxes" and me asking myself to check "yes" if it's something i've completed or accomplished by now and "no" if it's yet to be tackled. the crisis, i guess, comes in realizing that the "no" boxes are dominating. that's what's frustrating to me, someone who is her own self-proclaimed hardest and worst critic.

i've decided to make myself and other around me, here and now, accountable for things i hope, no, WILL accomplish this year (in no particular order):

1) travel out of the country (preferably on a mission trip of some kind...)

2) read 3 books (i know that doesn't sound like a lot for an entire year but, trust me, it will be a challenge just to find the time...)

3) tidy up my drama pilot and put it in the hands of people who can make it a reality

4) write and direct a short

5) take an improv class

6) buy a piano (?...this is contingent of having a place to put it...)

7) make a demo reel for voiceover work

8) be involved in a play (either performing or behind-the-scenes)

9) do some acting

10) ride my bike more and drive less

11) WRITE...even it if's not perfect

12) volunteer (preferably in the medical field in some way...)

13) give more generously

14) change jobs...and get more responsibility!

15) eat healthier

16) learn how to say "no"

and the list goes on...

welp, now it's out there. in the ether or universe or wherever those things float. i'm determined to make 25 a year to remember...

what it means to have meaning

2008-03-24T15:10:00.000-07:00

my grandma sent me a birthday gift today in the mail and inside was a small book entitled "reflective moments." a book such a this is something she gives about once a year. this one joins others i have at home, the likes of which range from "great toilet jokes" to "contemplations on God." each time she sends one, she never forgets to autograph the inside and mark it in time with a date. i love that about her.

i decided to start out my day today by reading the nearly 30 quotes in the book, hoping to have a few of my very own (as the book promised) "reflective moments."

some of the quotes were neither here nor there, probably ones i've heard before or things that just, to me, sounded kind of...well, cheesy. others, however, really gave me pause and made me think. i picked out my favorite ten and sent them out in an email to a few friends in hopes that one or more of them might strike a chord or bring poignancy.

one of the quotes was uttered in history by marcel proust, a french novelist, essayist, and critic who produced a very influential work in seven parts in the early 1900s entitled "in search of lost time." proust was quoted as saying:

"The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes, seeing the universe with the eyes of another, of hundreds of others, in seeing the hundreds of universes that each of them sees."

the reason this quote resonates so deeply with me is because i thrive on learning about people. i define both being connected to the world around me and being connected to God by my connection to humanity. knowing people's stories, striving to identify or at least be open to their experiences, laughing with them, crying with them, having compassion. all of these things together (not one or the other) make up how i give meaning to life.

i was thinking the other day about the film "into the wild" and how it had such a profound impact on me. while many people found it to be extremely depressing (and by plot and circumstance it was), i came away from the film being inspired. the events that transpired are without a doubt tragic in every sense of the word. not only are they tragic, but the way that christopher leaves the world is also tragically ironic. and here, in this tragic irony, is where i found my inspiration. his need to escape all that he knew and set out on a journey alone to find the meaning of life ultimately gave him the answer he set out to find...just simply too late. after denying identity, family, friends, money, and the world and being isolated from civilization in every sense of the word, tears came to his eyes as he took his last breaths, mustering up any strength he had left to scribble on to paper this untimely revelation:

life doesn't mean anything unless you have someone to share it with...

do you see the inspiration that this brings!? if i hole up, isolate, think i can live this life all on my own, everything that "means" anything to me will die with me and, by therefore HAS NO MEANING...no way of living on. if i share a story or a moment or a photograph or an experience with someone, they, too, take something from that and, in turn, become a part of it. my meanings take on new meanings. life is shared and passed on. we become connected.

now, i say all of this ultimately realizing that the proverbial question of "what is the meaning of life" truly has its foundation in Christ. however, if we LOOK at the life of Christ...on Earth...he lived AMONGST the people, he traveled, shook their hands, held their children, ate at their tables, desired to SHARE life with them. and THIS allowed him to speak truth into their lives.

if we are willing to truly POUR into others, meeting them where they are and allowing the LORD to be the one to do the work, not only will our own lives take on new meaning, but the things we learn will be magnified by our shared experiences.

when i re-examine the quote from proust above, i can see the Lord speaking so clearly through the words.

we don't have to travel to distant lands to have distant experiences.
we don't have to look to the poorest of nations to find a poor battered soul.
we don't have to live away from sinners to stay away from sin.

we just need new eyes...

outdoorsy trifecta

2008-03-24T09:19:00.000-07:00

this saturday, at roughly the exact same time, my friend-group was split up, enjoying the outdoorsy trifecta of la livin':

ben, trac, cc, greg and co. were hiking up a strenuous yet beautifully serene trail in the mountains of topanga canyon.

dairek and erose were shredding snow on the slopes of big bear mountain.

emoss and amy were cruisin' along the beach and santa monica pier on bikes, playing catch in the sand and watching the sunset over the ocean.

THIS is why people move to los angeles...

thanks, lord!

it don't gotta be a masterpiece to make it art

2008-03-18T21:35:00.000-07:00

It's 9:38 pm on a Monday night and I'm lying on my bed, shoes off and belly full of sushi (courtesy of Sushi Mac). I'm procrastinating wildly from going over to my army green shoulder bag and hauling out the actual work I need to get done for my day job. I'm instead wallowing in the fact that I'm pissed off at myself for not writing more. What's ironic about this moment is that right now, only a mere 10 feet away at my neighbor Chris' house, our writer's group is meeting. And I'm missing it. To...write?

You see, the thing I just realized is that the reason I'm so afraid to blog is because I feel like it has to be perfect. Moreover, I feel like it has to say something "important" or poignant. I don't feel like I can just write...say what's on my mind, spitball some ideas, post silly pictures. I've realized that I haven't posted anything since DECEMBER of 2007 because I've been waiting to have enough time to write what? And to that, I have no answer. What I've wound up actually doing is missing opportunities to write about thoughts and feelings I've had in many many moments over these past few months. And trust me, there have been A LOT. Especially in the last 3 weeks. And I've missed them because I've been too scared of not being "perfect."

So, screw that. I'm serious. SCREW THAT. Today I write simply to write. I don't have anything all that important to say. I might later, say in about 20 minutes or so. Or, you know what? I might not. I might not have one intelligible thing to say for a week. But that doesn't mean I can't write about what's going on...what I'm doing, who I'm meeting, what I'm feeling. THAT is what makes life livable. Our experiences. And the way WE specifically view them and go through them. That's what I can blog about: Life.

So, to start things off on the right foot, I'm just gonna take you through my day. And that'll be good enough, gosh darn it.

TODAY: March 18th 2008

Well, today started off on the WRONG foot. I've been promising myself that I'm going to start going to the gym or at the very least get active in some way. Yeah, that hasn't happened. I had planned to get up early this morning and hit the gym, come back and get ready and then head to work. After snoozing on my alarm for about an hour, I realized my morning plans were changing. There would be no aerobic activity for this little mossy. So I got in the car pissed off. Pissed off at my lack of discipline and also pissed off at the fact that I'm not gonna have a super-SVELT body for the beach this summer. (Sigh).

Today's my grandma's 78th birthday. Or, as she puts it, she's "17 for the 8th time." She's such a little biscuit. I gave her a buzz today to wish her a happy 17th and also to thank her for sending me a fat $$hundy for my birthday which is on Wednesday. With the gas prices the way they are, I need all the free money I can get. Holla.

Work was busy today. Mike was running around like crazy because he and Haco were leaving for Canada this evening and he was trying to get all his ducks in a row. For whatever reason DALLAS kicked back up today. This cat is on its 8th life. I kinda wish it would just die.

Current time: 11:43 pm. As I was writing this blog, my neighbor Chris came over and invited me to go and play ROCK BAND. I said "Ok, but just one song cause I have a lot of work to do.:" Cut to an hour and a half later and I'm back. Man, that thing is addictive. I'm a Medium level on pretty much everything (guitar, bass, singing, drums). I like the drums a lot. Tonight was my first time to play them and I already got Medium pretty well. I think I just have natural rhythm!

Anyway, now I REALLY can't waste any more time writing this blog cause I already did that playing ROCK BAND.

Peace. (PS - Tomorrow I'm working a screening for Film Independent for their director's series where David Fincher is speaking. Fun stuff!)

films i want to see :: a/o dec.5.07

2007-12-05T17:18:00.001-08:00

check out my entertainment blog for a rundown, commentary, and trailers...
www.thescreenexperiment.blogspot.com
-e

3 days Parked in Park City

2007-12-02T23:31:00.000-08:00

R&R is totally underrated. This weekend, I took a short 3-day jaunt to the majestic snow-covered mountains of Park City, Utah to spend time with friends and family. I had no agenda other than to relax, have fun, make memories, and spend time with people that I love. It's amazing what God will reveal to you when you take pause from the hustle-and-bustle of your everyday existence to rejuvenate your mind, body, and soul. When you put everything the world deems "important" aside and focus on feeding your heart, blessings abound.

Way back in the summer of 2002, I took a long road trip out to Los Angeles with 3 new friends for what would be a life-changing 3 months in Hollywood. Not only did I grow close to Red, Ben, and Anton and consider them brothers to this day, but I also became close with a very special family who has since become so much more than mere "family friends." The Armstrongs are one of the most amazing families I have ever had the pleasure to know and have grown to be, in a sense, my second family. This weekend I was able to reconnect with memories of that amazing summer in LA (sans Ben's presence, although he lives here in LA with me and is a part of my daily life).

On Friday, I arrived around lunch time at the airport in Salt Lake City. I met up with Anton and Red who were both furiously typing away on their MacBooks with coffees in hand. This was their usual state of existence in times of waiting, contemplation, inspiration, boredom, or work. They jumped up to pass out the hugs and we headed out into the cold to meet up with Beth. We hopped in the car and raced home after we learned that, if you present your boarding pass, you can get a free lift ticket for skiing on the day of your arrival. We jetted into their home only long enough to change into our ski gear and grab our "free ski passes" for the day. We were headed for the slopes only a mere hour after touching down on Utah soil. Once we arrived at Park City Mountain Resort, we met up with Brett who was just coming down off of a run, skis on, poles in hand, goggles firm on his icy face. He was so happy to see us and he squeezed his puffy jacket against ours to welcome us for the weekend! Unfortunately for me, I wasn't able to get a free lift ticket because Southwest had taken my boarding pass upon getting onto the plane. I had my Itinerary but that was no good, as far as they were concerned. I would have been upset had there been hours left to ski but the truth is that the lifts closed about 45 minutes after we arrived so I knew I wasn't missing much. The guy checking tickets was nice enough to let me go up one lift and ski down, just enough to make me realize that I needed some practice! I think it had been about 10 years since I had been skiing!

After being out in the snow for a few hours, the whole gang went home to get some grub and prepare for the night's festivities. One of the primary reasons for making the trip was to see Brett in his stage debut at the Egyptian Theater as John Darling in PETER PAN. Red, Anton, and I were really excited to see him perform and to spend some time at the theater. The show was fantastic and Bretty really did a great job. Anton and I were having a bit of stage envy as the show progressed, wishing that we were also on stage with them belting out the familiar and fantastical tunes. At one point in the show, Anton leaned over to me and whispered in my ear that he thought the girl playing Peter looked remarkably similar to a young Ellen Degeneres. I had to laugh because for about 30 minutes, I had been thinking the exact same thing! Ellen as Peter Pan...now there's a show! The 3 Amigos in the audience, me included, gave Brett a standing ovation and probably hooped and hollered more than should be deemed appropraiate in terms of proper "theater etiquette." We didn't care. We love Brett! And the THEATER! Following the show, and quite frankly for the rest of the trip, we kept singing a spoof verse of the popular song "I'm Flying." It went something like this:

"Candy Canes, Cookie Dough, Fairy Dust, Tinkerbell, Neverland"

(*insert your own 3-syllable words and phrases as you wish!)

Anton was hilarious about it. I laughed every time he sang a new "version," partly because of this word choices but more-so because of the 80-yr old lady voice he did it in. Oh, Anton. Hats off to you.

Saturday can pretty much be summed up in one word: SKI! After carb-loading in Cucina de Armstrong, we hit the slopes. Brett skied with us until he had to go to his matinee performance, and then it was just the 3 Amigos once again. I started out slow, on greens, making sure I didn't kill myself or get too over-confident. The guys were really sweet and went with me a few times, all the while I know they wished the could have just gone straight for the blues. I worked up my courage and soon, after only about 2 runs on the greens, found myself on the blue lift...going up...and up...and up. Once we reached the top, I took a while to gain my composure as the guys strapped on their snowboards. "Meet you at the bottom?," Red said. "Yep, I'll see you there." They took off and I, well, I took one more deep breath. Then, I dug my pole into the ground and WHOOSH, I was movin! I'm not gonna lie...I was scared. But the good thing about going up to the top of the blue is you pretty much MUST find your way down. I was determined to make it down with one goal: don't fall. No matter how long it takes, just don't fall. And, I'm happy to report, I did it. After the first time down, it got easier and easier and I, in turn, got better and better.

Around 1 pm we headed into the restaurant lodge for some refueling and bun-warming. It took 3 tries to get my meal right, but it wasn't long before I was shoveling fries like there was no tomorrow. We stayed inside for a good hour, talking, roasting, joking, and people-watching. After we were good and fed it was time to again suit up and head out. We went straight up to the blues again and this is where I would have a great memory of the day....

I actually started down the mountain first this time, knowing full well that Red and Anton would blow past me and beat me to the end anyway. About half way down, I stopped to rest my legs, which I did frequently on the blues because I was trying to dig so hard to maintain control on the steeper parts. While I was resting, I heard a little girl on a snowboard crying to my left. I reached out my hand and asked if she needed help up. She then replied "I can't move my leg. I think it's bleeding." This was not the response I was expecting, but I was excited to be able to help with an "injured skier." I turned and started walking up the mountain sideways to get the attention of a mountain worker who was whistling at skiers who were coming down this particular section too fast. He immediately went to the girl and asked that I take his spot and yell at any skier coming their way. I was standing backwards, in skis, looking up a giant slope at skiers and snowboarders tearing their way toward me. It was intimidating. But, there was a rescue at hand! I had to play my part. I waited for a good 10 minutes for the other rescue skier to make this way to the site. Once he arrived (with a rescue sled), he, too, asked me to stay and help he direct "traffic" around the injured girl who was getting loaded onto the the sled. So, there I stood. My calves were throbbing as I dug my skis into the snow, trying hard not to slide backwards down the mountain. I was yelling "Right, stay right, please. Injured skier." I was flailing my arms, not knowing whether pointing or using "air-traffic controller" hands would be more effective. I guess I was up on the mountain a good 20-3o minutes before they finally took her down. I never found out her name or what happened to her but, in that moment, I was glad that my legs were cramping up giving the the opportunity to stop and see her in need.

After we skied, we went home and CRASHED. Not really "sleeping" but more-so just lounging around in our long-johns, our matted ski-hat-hair rising messily from our heads. We had been sans shower for T-minus 2 days and we didn't really care. Brett, we were told, had invited a few "friends" over from the play to watch a movie and eat before the night performance. Well, little did I know that in Armstrong talk that meant the entire cast of PETER PAN! I was fine until I saw Peter/Ellen D/Molly (that was her real name) walk in the door and suddenly I felt like I was a gross pre-pubescent boy and needed to go shower and "girl" up. I did and then headed up for some Beth-Spagetti. Yummy!

After Brett was dropped off at the play, Red, Anton, and I went our way and mom and dad (Beth and Roge) went theirs. We were going to meet up with one of Red's friends at a coffee shop and then, perhaps, hit up a pub for a brew. We chilled at Java Cow for about an hour, chatting and laughing with Micajah (yep, that's his name). I instantly liked him because 1) he was from Louisiana, 2) he went to LSU, and 3) he was throwing stories and jokes out left and right. Very good people, that one. He had to head to work at 9 pm so Red, Anton, and I decided to head to a local brew pub and down a cold one, or two. We sat and down the amber goodness of a pitcher of Park City's finest, discussing life, religion, dreams, and goals. Once the pitcher was done, Red and Anton decided that they couldn't leave without trying to darkest beer this place had to offer, simply because of the title: POLYGOMY PORTER. Gotta love that...

When we returned home, it was time for us to curl up on the couches and get inspired. What better way to do that than to pop in ONCE, this indie-film made for $150K that has more heart, more beauty, more melody, and more art than most any other film I've seen in a long time. The soundtrack alone was enough for me to fall in love with the movie, even before seeing one single frame. The film chronicles the tale of a heartbroken vacuum repairman who moonlights as a street musician and, with the help of a woman he meets while performing one afternoon, sets out to record some songs and travel to London to win back the love of the one he lost. This film is such a perfect example of how to do a musical without all the spontaneous bursting out in song. The songs are organically woven into the fabric of the film and, in many ways, tell much of the story within their lyrics. I was both intimidated and inspired by this film and would put it at the top of my list of "must-sees" for the year. Truly remarkable and proof that big production value is NOT what makes a film memorable. ONCE tugs at your heart and takes you on a musical journey through broken and flourishing relationships.

I was up most of the night thinking about ONCE. Thinking about its simplicity. Thinking about how talented the two leads were and how lucky the film was to have found them and brought them together. I hope my films are half as good as this one.

On Sunday, it was a day of complete relaxation before heading to the airport to conclude the trip. We, again, watched another movie (come on, they have so many good ones at their house!!!) and cozied up until lunch time. This time, we watched MICHAEL CLAYTON, starring George Clooney. This film was written by Tony Gilroy, the guy who wrote all of the BOURNE movies and it very much so had the "BOURNE" feel. All in all, a very good movie with outstanding performances. The story at times was hard to track, as things were not laid out in a linear fashion and there were a lot of names and case points to keep track of, but by the end it answered most of the questions it asked. One thing that none of us understood was the bit with the horses. Now, if you've seen the film, you'll know what I'm talking about. What made Michael get out of the car to oogle over the wild horses? This question is a major point of contention and a catalyst for a lot that happens in the movie. Anyone know? I'm sure I could Google it and fund out but it's more fun swishing it around in my head. Another thing that I wish they would have done a little better is given some resolution to the references to the book REALM & CONQUER. Anywho, I could go on. It's a good flick and worth seeing but it will still leave you with a few "huhs?" in the end. Performances to mention are Tilda Swinton and Tom Wilkonson. Both do a great job in this film. There were times, however, where I felt like Tilda's character (Karen) was "gone" from screen for too long but there's a great "I got ya" scene between her and Clooney near the end that really shows how well she plays subtlety.

Before we went to the SLC airport, Roger took us on an hour long car ride through the area. The scenery was breathtaking in the winter, stark whiteness as far as the eye could see in some places. Little mountain towns tucked away in canyons and alongside chilly rivers. It's certainly a different kind of existence. A more peaceful one, I imagine. I kept thinking about what I was flying back to: the traffic, the urban metropolis, the celebrity, the biz. Suddenly all of that seemed so...well, gross and unimportant.

I'm back at work now. Thinking about the weekend as I write this. Of course I could say much more but I feel like I've gone on too long already. I just got a call from Beth telling me how great it was to have us there and also an IM from Brett telling me that he misses me. Oh, the things that matter in life! It's hard to turn to my left and shove my face deep into this budget and pick it apart when my mind is not focused at all on tangible, concrete things.

Back to the grind...

The Daylights TERRA FIRMA video

2007-08-15T17:37:00.000-07:00

Check out the newest music video I produced on my Entertainment Blog at:
www.thescreenexperiment.blogspot.com

Truth

2007-03-27T10:09:00.000-07:00

"Growing up Southern is a privilege. It's more than where you're born, it's an idea, a state of mind that seems imparted at birth. It's more than loving fried chicken, sweet tea, baseball, bibles, and country music. It's being devoted to screen porches, magnolias, coca-cola, and each other. We don't become Southern, we're born that way."

STRAIGHTHEADS

2007-03-02T12:46:00.000-08:00

Check out this new blog on my entertainment site:

www.thescreenexperiment.blogspot.com
It's about STRAIGHTHEADS, Gillian Anderson's new thriller.

a new year, a new you

2007-01-16T18:15:00.000-08:00

My last post was in August of 2006?! That's just sad. Quite unforgivable. And, to top it all off, it was a selfish plug for my lame YouTube trailer. I'm a low creature. My apologies.

Well, it's now 2007. And, as Bob Dylan would say, "The Times, They are A'Changin." That's right, kids. I've come out of my lowly valley and have emerged a new, more artistic individual. What sparked the resurgence, you may ask? Quite simply: ART. Doesn't art always have something to do with it? I know for me it does. Art is so powerful. And this weekend, I realized just how much of my life is defined by it: the way I REACT to art, the way I CREATE art, the way I DISCUSS art, and the way I FIND art in the world around me. Werd up, playa, werd up.

I spent the weekend (MLK weekend, nonetheless...coincidence? I think not! Ok, so there's no REAL tie in there, but MLK was striving for equality and that's kinda artistic, right? Ok, nevermind) --A-N-Y-W-A-Y-- I spent this weekend being very very super-dee-duper artsy-fartsy and, although I was incredibly busy, it was one of the best weekends I've had in a long time. Here's the lay of the land (get ready to get jealous of my AWESOME weekend...just warning you):

FRIDAY - Well, I started the day a little gas-y, which worried me. Sorry, I shouldn't start there. Let me skip ahead a little...Work ended up being a really busy day. And not just a busy day, but a busy Friday, which makes things worse - always. Scripts were coming in left and right and the office was really a-buzz. I ended up being at work with other assistants til almost 8:30 pm and then hopped in the car to head home. I returned some calls whilst cruising up Bev Glen to the hizzy. Plans for the night were still being worked out, but my options were shaping up nicely. I could 1) Stay home and be cozy. 2) Stay home and eat 3 popsicles while watching the free first season of BONES I snagged at work. 3) Stay home. or 4) Go to a Karaoke double birthday with friends. When weighing these options carefully, I opted for number 4, as to not appear like a loser and an anti-social nancy. Guys, I even carpooled to the b-day bash to make myself look like I had friends to arrive with! I know how to work this crap! The b-day was fun...er...well, it was nice to see everyone, but the singers were THE WORST SINGERS I HAVE EVER HEARD and it not only hurt by ears, but also my soul. I'm glad I went for the birthday girls but even more annoying than the lame songbirds was the idiot waitress. There was no cover to get in, but what we learned (almost immediately upon crossing the doorframe) was that there was a 2 drink minimum. This got me heated. What if I'm not thirsty? What if I don't want a bev? What if I'm the DD? And the waitress would NOT let you forget it was a 2 drink minimum. She followed each one of us around all night and kept asking "Are you ready for your next drink?" NO! I'm not. And when I am, I'll come find you. I broke down and ordered my first drink, which was a diet coke. It came in one of those thin, cylindrical glasses full of ice (so, only like 2 actual sips of the coke). For the rest of the night, I hid from this waitress. She went right, I went left. She was headed to me, I turned my back to her and casually tossed a hot wing in my mouth. Needless to say, this little game went on all night and was entertaining me, I must admit. And the end of the night, I managed to only buy the one drink. Victory, I thought, until I had to pay for the 2 sips of diet coke I DID order. "5.00, please." WHAT? That's highway robbery people. I was so steamed. BUT - I paid my 5 bones and peaced out. Honestly, I would have rather paid a cover and not been forced to engage in a cat and mouse game with that waitress all night. But, the Lord has a sense of humor. And that, my friends, I appreciate.

SATURDAY - Begin the day with a little Brainstorming and Starkbucks, that's what I always say. Today fit that bill. By 9 am I was already in Burbank standing in line at the Starbucks for my Chai Latte and Reduced fat cinnamon loaf. Both were equally tasty. After my bfast, I headed over to the LA LOVES home office for an emergency think tank for their STOP TRAFFICK campaign. Elkin, founder/producer, has a meeting on Monday with Lionsgate about their upcoming film TRADE and how we, LA LOVES, can partner up with their marketing department to raise awareness. Elkin, Deborah, Heidi, Dairek, Linda, and I sat around a table and put together a solid action plan for the meeting. We were extremely productive and the gathering got us all excited about our power to create change and make this happen. My main task, in addition to using my media contacts to help us, was to take all the information for the presentation packet for Lionsgate and graphically lay it out in an aesthetic way. I had to wait, however, until all the information was compiled. I would have to be working under the gun, most probably doing the majority of my work Sunday night - the night before the 9 am meeting on Monday. But, that's just how I roll. Under pressure like that. Waz up?

I had planned on having lunch with a friend form college who was in town but had to cancel on him because our meeting lasted way longer than expected. We rescheduled for bfast tomorrow morning. That should work out just fine. I finally made it back home at 3 pm, my brain still racing from our meeting of the minds. It was cold, but with my adrenaline pumping and my feeling of fatness, I made the executive decision to pack up my messenger bag and lap top, toss on my scarf and beanie, and hop on my 1974 purple Schwinn for a little afternoon ride, ending at Roman's where they have WI-FI and a BBQ Chicken Press Wrap that's to die for. I'm not gonna lie to you, about 10 minutes into an the ride, I was wondering if I had smoked something. I trudged on, peddling slow by steady, and finally arrived at Roman's. I whipped out the computer and got to work. I started searching online for any information I could find on the movie TRADE, as well as the Lifetime movie HUMAN TRAFFICKING. I wanted to try to get contact info for executives and filmmakers so that it would be easier for Elkin and Deborah to get in touch with the sources of these creations. I figured that they'd have to have had a reason for wanting to tell these stories. So do we! Let's talk it out! I spent way too much time at Roman's and had to hightail it out of there in a jiff, only to find out that it had dropped like 15 more degrees since being in the comforts of the restaurant. I was forced to hop back on the Schwinn and FREEZE my butt off as I zipped home. I felt like Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels in that scene in DUMB AND DUMBER where they are frozen to each other on the little scooter. I ran back inside and started getting toasty. I had to quickly hop in the shower because I had to meet someone for dinner @ 7 pm over the hill. Eeks! And, it was a boy.

Saturday night was a super-blast. Andrew and I went to dinner at a little Vietnamese restaurant downtown at 7:30. It was called BLOSSOM. I'd recommend it highly. And get the Ginger Limeade (hot or cold)...it'll clear out your sinuses like a nice Asian altoid. After dinner, we planned to hit up 2 downtown art shows: one hosted by the infamous BUMDOG, a "homeless" dude who loves Bob Dylan, making movies, art, and poetry and the other hosted by one of Andrew's friends, a show displaying all Austrian artists. We figured we'd double-dip in the art shows, hitting Bumbog's first then swing on by the loft and check out some sweet Austrian schnitzel. After dinner, we tried to locate the first of our two shows. We parked, got out onto the urine-smelling streets, and kept wandering around and around. Where was this silly show? I was holding my purse tight under my armpit and kept my eyes on the vagrants around me. We soon learned from a 5-0 that Bumdog's show had ben canceled at the last minute. Bummer. And, also at that moment, we were approached for the time by a dirty Hispanic street wanderer carrying a dead rat by the tail. Just a normal Saturday night in downtown LA. It was comforting. Alas, we headed on to our second art show of the night, this one promising to be indoors, away from the people drawing pictures in their own vomit on the sidewalk. That was at least a plus. The Austrian art show was really amazing. It was in this sweet loft under the 1st street bridge and it was very chill and relaxing. Andrew and I had some wine, mingled, and checked out the art. It all felt very adult, which was kinda cool (and kinda scary). One artist in particular really wowed me. She's only 23 and she's only been painting for 5 years professionally. She's amazing. Her name is Bianca Regl and you have to check her out. The amazing thing about her is that she works SUPER fast. Like 2 hours per painting. Wowzer. I met and spoke with her at length and she is very sweet and down to earth. She has just finished studying at UCLA and is headed back to Austria as we speak. She's been offered a gallery, a car, and a life as a professional artists. She's also going to be showing in Berlin, Germany as well. Good luck to you, Bianca! Being at this art show inspired me to paint more. I painted a lot when I was younger and stopped for some reason. I want to make a few pieces of art for my apartment and, after tonight, am confident that I can.

After the show, Andrew and I hung out at his place til like 4 am, drinking tea, looking at photographs, talking about film, and, toward the end, cuddling and kissing. There, I said it. It was fun, come on. Which leads me to...

SUNDAY - This day started BRIGHT AND EARLY. And, I might add, in a strange apartment. I had stayed the night at Andrew's place because 1) It was freezing. 2) I didn't want to drive to the valley @ 4 am. 3) My 9 am breakfast was right around the corner. and 4) I'm a girl and who doesn't like a little kissing and cuddling? (Totally innocent, my Christian friends. Do not judge. I'm a goodie). Anywho, at 9 am I had to bust out in the cold, wearing the same clothes I had worn the night before, and meet a friend and his friend who were in town for breakfast @ TOAST on 3rd Street. It was way to early to laugh but Brad and Jeremy certainly got me going. They are two of the funniest people I've met. It was so nice to visit and giggle over an egg burrito. We sat outside so we could comment on all the LA-ness that was going on around us. Being from the South, we found A LOT to laugh at. From the huge sunglasses being worn inside, to the cars bumping their base that pulled up curbside fpr bfast, it was definitely entertaining. After the meal, I bid them a fond farewell and headed home to the valley to shower (finally...I had mascara smeared everywhere...looked like a battered wife...ok, not appropriate). ANYWAY, I got all squeaky clean and then....NAPPED. So hardcore it's not even funny! As soon as my head hit that pillow I was OUT. I slept for a good while and was woken, a few hours later, by the sound of my friend, Dairek, rapping on my window. "EMOSS...EMOSS, i know you're there. Open the door." Ugh. Nap over. Dairek came in and he and CC and I pow-wowed on my bed. We started talking about kissing, for some reason. Maybe because I was sharing my story from the night before. We started talking about what separates a bad kisser from a good one. CC and I immediately started rattling off signs, while Dairek just listened. We were throwing out the following terms: "Firm, yet gentle" "Knows what he's doing, confident" "Slow and thoughtful" "Deliberate moves" Dairek was like "Girls really pay attention to that? Guys are just thinking about sex at that point." (Dairek here speaking about "most" guys). We responded, "Oh, yeah. Kissing can be a deal breaker for a girl. Girls talk about bad kisser their friends. You guys need to know that." Men: take note - kissing matters. Practice. Just then, our friend, Heidi came over and we continued the conversation. She agreed with us. As we laughed and joked, Dairek and I realized that time was slipping away. Crap. We have to work on the LA LOVES presentation. The meeting is at 9 am tomorrow morning! Playtime was over. We jetted out of the house, headed back to Roman's, and pounded it out for, like, 3 hours, plus an additional 4 hours at my house. We worked on the presentation from 7:00 pm to 2:00 the next morning. Phew. 7 pages of graphically layed out info and research ready to go. Now, all I have to do is email them to Elkin so she could print everything. Almost done. I climb in my bed, cozy up, and go to email the pics when...CRAPOLAFRAGILISTIC. The internet is down. It's 2:30 am. I'm sooooooo tired. No sleep the night before and, looking like, no sleep tonight. Humph. All I can force myself to do is pray that the internet will come back on and set my alarm for 6:30 am (that's 4 hours later) to get up, check, and try to resend. AMEN.

MONDAY - (MLK 2007!) 6:34 am - Yeah, so, it's not working. Elkin's meeting is in like 2.5 hours. Crap. I quickly burn a CD, thinking that I'm going to have to drive them over to her house (over the hill). In one last Hail Mary attempt I text message my 3 guy friends who have a house close to mine just HOPING that one of them is a light sleeper. Please don't be drunk...please don't be drunk. And suddenly, as if from the Lord (ok, it was from the Lord), Rob (aka Cousin Eddie) comes through. TEXT: "Yeah...sure. Come over. Door is open." SAVED. I hop in my car wearing my Hush Puppy slippers (so cold outside) and head to their house. I sent all 7 pics and was finished by 7:45 am. PHEW. Seriously, JUST enough time for her to print. I hugged Eddie with all my might and headed home, well first to Starkbucks, and the home. I did a little light reading on a book called RIGHTEOUS (PLEASE READ..whole other blog story entirely) and then fell back asleep til 12:30 pm.

When I came to, I figured I needed to be with friends so I gathered some food, went to my friend's house and hung out for a while before going to see a movie. At their house, we discussed French filmmaking, particularly Godard, as we watched the apartment scene from his film CONTEMPT. It's a great scene. So layered, so textured. The shots are so thoughtful and symbolic and Godard was not afraid to let a moment breathe. He let you be IN the moment, feel the moment. He was also not afraid to stay wide, which is rare these days. We talked about shooting a scene as an homage to this kind of filmmaking. It was a great discussion about art amongst friends. We ended the evening by seeing PAN'S LABYRINTH by Guilleromo Del Toro. Wow. Go see this film. It's one of the most interesting and visually captivating films I've seen in a while. More so than that, it's an adult fairly tale, complete with gore and adult themes, but contrasted with fairies, a young child heroine, and a talking faun. What else do you want in a movie? This film made me realize that you can still be extremely imaginative in the adult realm and be successful. It was very refreshing. We all rode home discussing the film, its themes, the emotions it evoked. Again, very fulfilling conversation.

We ended the night watching the entertainment industry hand out Golden Globes to those who had made an impression in the past year in the biz. I was really excited for Forest Whitaker, who gave one of my favorite performances of the year in THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND as Ugandan leader Idi Amin. Very powerful, both the movie and his performance. I recommend it. I was also excited for director Martin Scorsese for his win for THE DEPARTED. Another great film. I was just excited to see him win, after having made such a long and lasting impression on this industry. To see that he's still going strong was inspiring. Got me jazzed about my future and the longevity and staying-power I want to have in this business.

Well, that's about that. Are you jealous of my weekend? It was flippin sweet. I hope to have many more like it this year. No more wasting my precious time. I plan on using my time to do things that make me happy and mean something to me. That's what life's really about: doing things that make you happy. (and things that are pleasing to the Lord :) Once again, AMEN.

I'm on YOU TUBE

2006-08-29T09:13:00.001-07:00

Check it out -->

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRRpSEWsOPQ&mode=related&search

It's the trailer for a short I did in college, CITY OF BLINDING LIGHTS.

I'm totally famous.

excerpt from an instant message - PART 4: uh...

2006-08-02T18:35:00.000-07:00

sometimes things just make no sense whatsoever:

N - i want to start going to more comedy shows
N - i have never been to one in la
E - i need to bad
E - i've only been to like 3
E - next time a comedy show comes around that you want to go to let me know
E - and vice versa
N - i dont really find out about it... but if i do i will
N - i think i got your headach
N - headache
E - yeah, it's no fun...right temple or left?
N - started at the left now its moved to the left
N - i need someone w/ a cane
E - hahahhhhhhha
E - i want some fro yo
N - maybe lude can get you some
E - let's call him "lewd"
E - double meaning that way
N - you're so clever
N - i try

when you just don't wanna

2006-07-28T10:06:00.000-07:00

you ever have that feeling when you know you should do something but your brain, or heart, or ego, or laziness responds with "eh, i just don't wanna"? you don't really have a reason. that phrase, to you, is your reason. it's plain and simple: I JUST DON'T WANNA.

i've been having a lot of those moments lately. whether i engage in using the abovementioned phrase for big things, like my reason for not going to bible study, or little things, like why i didn't eat the rest of my bagel at breakfast. i can't figure out if i'm in a funk or if it's just pure laziness. i don't feel lazy. things that make you say "hmmm." this is one of those things.

i think one of the reasons why "i just don't wanna" do things lately is my awareness that i actually am on my own now. i'm at a point in life where i'm looking for a new job, a new place to live, i have to get a clicking noise fixed on my car, and i'm trying to write a tv pilot in my spare time. sometimes i think "hello? is anyone out there? mommy? dada?" and there's no response. just me. just me, myself, and i. this realization of independence (true independence) is, i think, making it easier for me to make decisions - because i have to. (ps - i'm one of or WAS one of the most indecisive people ever).

ramble ramble ramble ramble. point of this blog is: i want to find a better excuse or reason for why i do or don't do certain things. i know it's good sometimes to "go with your gut" or "follow your heart" but i want to make my decision making a little more cerebral. i want to have an opinion or reason for why i am who i am and make a statement for that.

so, why am i writing this blog? no, not because i just wanna...

i'm writing this blog because my thoughts were reeling this morning and i was tired of my passive attitude toward things. i want to take action, be more active, and by writing this blog it's a step in that direction.

peace out playa

excerpt from an instant message - Part 3: baby banana sarong anderson

2006-07-25T11:06:00.000-07:00

s- hey, did you get my email about gillian anderson
e - no not yet
e - whats up
s - she's PREGNANT
e - WHAT
s - yeah!
e - with who's baby? the guy she just left?
s - i emailed you the people article
s - no, a business man
e - oh wow
s - she's due at the end of the year
s - WHICH MEANS
s - she was prego when we met her
e - AHHHHHHHHHH
s - i know i know
e - that's awesome...we have the first exclusive pics of Banana Surong Anderson
s - LOL
s - TRUE STORY!!!!
e - i've got to go read about baby Banana in PEOPLE
s - hahah...DO IT!
e - i wonder if that's why she split from her hunny
s - i was soooo excited
s - i SCREAMED when i read it
e - hahaha
s - prolly
e - ah
e - an affair do ya think?
s - yeah
e - i hope it has red hair...
s - he's attractive tho
e - wait, no i dont
s - it has a pic w/ she and him
e - oh ok...nice
s - and she has a slight tummy
e - i love pics
s - RED HAIR LOL
e - ok i'm going now
e - ps - i'm blogging this IM as my third installment
e - thanks for being my pop culture oracle
s - good good, you should
s - lol
s - i'm so happy she's having another baby
s - i bet it's a boy
s - what do you think?
e - i hope so
s - and they name it something like Zappa
e - i want her to have a little WILLIAM MULDER of her own
s - or something weird and buddhist sounding
s - lol
e - yeah
e - ooooooo the pic of the two of them is sooo cute
e - he's saucy
e - and she looks like a cute prego person
e - you know how some are cute and some are...well...not
s - i know! i'm so excited for her!
e - she's cute
s - i know! i'm so excited for her!
s - she was totally like 2 months prego when we hugged her
e - HAHAH
e - eat that PEOPLE
s - hahah...seriously
s - do you think that's why she had a jacket on?
s - or why she wouldn't hug us, as to accentuate her belly
s - OH MYSETERY SOLVED!!!!
e - YESSSSSS
e - it was not, in fact, the restrictive material of the coat
e - but the fact that she was trying to conceal her pregnancy from the press
e - and fans
e - cause we would blog about it
s - totally
s - oh man
s - good work, special agent

(click here to read about the day we met Gillian and see a pic of the infamous "restrictive" coat)

the middle of the circle

2006-07-20T09:48:00.000-07:00

A good friend reminded me last night of a saying that holds monumental truth. We had just been to bible study and been rocked by personal testimonies of how a few of our fellow brothers and sisters had come to Christ.

"I love hearing other people's testimonies. It reaffirms my faith."

"I know, man. It's so eye-opening."

"I know. When I hear people talk about how they just knew it was Jesus who was holding their heart at that very moment, I find peace in that."

"Me too. Jesus is so sweet. He takes the time to come and find us when we think there is nowhere else we can turn."

"Some of those stories rocked me, man. It makes me think of that saying: "If everyone threw their problems in the middle of a circle, they'd come back with their own."

And there it was - the saying. It rang so true to me last night. My problems are nothing compared to what some people are going through or have experienced in their lives. And if we had all thrown our problems in the middle of the circle last night, you can bet your life that I would have taken back my own. I am doing O-Kay. God is good.

I challenge you this week to read stories of people's testimonies. Or, better yet, ask other believers how they came to know Christ. I know for me it always ends up bringing me closer to God when I hear about how he rescued a fellow brother or sister from darkness and brought them to the truth.

Below is a testimony we read about last night, a story not unlike some of the ones I heard about first hand from girls in my very own bible study. The similarities in the moments when one comes to know Christ are so beautifully connected. The experience transcends time, space, race, wealth, geography, or lifestyle. When Jesus finds you, you will be changed.

The life of Sadhu Sundar Singh was most remarkable in its Christ-likeness. Being born amidst the depths of Indian culture and religion, and into a Sikh family, during the early part of his life Sundar's mother would take him week by week to sit at the feet of a sadhu, an ascetic holy man, who lived some distance away in the rainforest. It was his mother who first encouraged him to become a sadhu. She once told him, "Do not be selfish and materialistic like your brothers, but seek for your peace of mind and hold steadily onto your faith. Be a sadhu." However, he never achieved peacefulness in his meditations. Owing to his mother's connections with some women from a British mission in Rajpur, Sundar was able to enter the school run by the missionaries. It was there that Sundar was first exposed to the Bible. He wasn't interested in the Bible at that time. Instead, he ardently buried himself in Hinduism and yogic practices.

But with the death of his beloved mother when he was only fourteen years old, his life had changed dramatically. The young Sundar grew increasingly despairing and aggressive. Convinced that what Jesus had taught was completely wrong, he tore the Bible apart and burned it. He even threw stones at preachers and encouraged others to do likewise. His hatred of the local missionaries and Christians culminated in the public burning of a Bible which he tore apart page by page and threw into the flames.

Still, however hard he tried, he couldn't find the peace he had been seeking for in his own religion. He reached a point in his life where committing suicide crossed his mind. Yet before long Sundar was intent on taking his own life. Sundar had arrived at a point of desperation: he had decided to throw himself under the Ludhiana express if God did not reveal to him the true way of peace. Three days after he burned the Bible in front of his father, he woke up at three in the morning and went out into the moonlit courtyard for the ceremonial bath observed by devout Hindus and Sikhs before worship. He then returned to his room and knelt down, bowed his head to the ground and pleaded that God would reveal himself. Yet nothing happened. He was thinking of throwing himself in front of the train that would pass at 5 a.m. every morning behind their house, in the hope that he would find peacefulness in his future reincarnation. He had not known what to expect: a voice, a vision, a trance? Still nothing happened, and it was fast approaching the time for the Ludhiana express. He repeated his prayer once again. He lifted his head and opened his eyes, and was rather surprised to see a faint cloud of light in the room. It was too early for the dawn. He opened the door and peered out to the courtyard. Darkness.

Turning back into the room he saw that the light in the room was getting brighter. At first he feared that the room was on fire. But nothing happened. He then thought that it might be an answer to his prayer. While watching the light, he suddenly saw Jesus' figure in the radiance. To his sheer amazement he saw not the face of any of his traditional gods, but of Jesus the Christ. Jesus Christ was there in the room, shining, radiating an inexpressible joy and peace and love, looking at him with compassion and asking, "Why do you persecute me? I died for you ..." [Acts 9:1-5] At that time, Sundar realized that Jesus was not dead but alive. Sundar fell on his knees before Him and experienced an astonishing peacefulness which he had never felt before. The vision disappeared, but peace and joy lingered within him.

Thereafter his life was transformed. He wanted to be baptized. Although his family tried to prevent him from his intention, he was determined. In 1905, on his birthday, he was baptized in an English church in Simla. At that time, he decided to become a sadhu, so that he could dedicate himself to the Lord Jesus. As a sadhu, he wore a yellow robe, lived on the charity of others, abandoned all possession and maintained celibacy. He was convinced that this was the best way to introduce the Gospel to his people since it was the only way which his people were accustomed to. In addition, he also wanted to be free to devote himself to the Lord.

Having become a Christian, he was renounced by his father and ostracized by his family. On October 16 1905, Sundar wearing a yellow robe, barefooted and without provisions, resumed his nomadic life from village to village, but this time he followed in Jesus' footsteps. From here on the life of Sundar Singh became most Christ-like. Being unwilling to denounce his Master in the face of his family's rejection, Sundar took the saffron robes of the sadhu and began a life of spreading the simple message of love and peace and rebirth through Jesus. He carried no money or other possessions, only a New Testament.

"I am not worthy to follow in the steps of my Lord," he said, "but like Him, I want no home, no possessions. Like Him I will belong to the road, sharing the suffering of my people, eating with those who will give me shelter, and telling all people of the love of God."

to days of inspiration

2006-07-17T00:21:00.000-07:00

For those of you who primarily check this blog, here's my most recent post on my other blog, eyeten entertainment.

Check it out -->

O Praise Him

2006-07-06T10:17:00.000-07:00

last night at bible study we got into a deep discussion about praise and what it means to truly P-R-A-I-S-E the Lord with all of yourself like it says in the last chapters of Psalm.

i came to a conclusion about my own life that perhaps might bring some clarity to yours...

i realized that because i SEEK praise (whether it be from my boss at work or my peers at home) i cannot fully GIVE praise with my whole heart. it's only in those moments of contentment and extreme humility when i'm doing things in His name and expecting NOTHING in return that i am able to pour out praise unto the Lord.

you know the old saying "Seek and Ye Shall Find"?

well, here, i think the case is just the opposite. if you SEEK praise you will NOT find the fullness of the glory of God.

"Praise the Lord, O my soul. I will praise the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live." -Psalm 146 1-2

mylove

2006-07-06T09:34:00.000-07:00

ok...so i have a major confesstion to make. bloggers, please don't inundate this post with ranting comments telling me how weak i am. believe me, i already know. but...if i may...i have to tell you the WHY behind the WHAT.

the WHAT can be summed up in a simple sentence: i rejoined myspace. **tomatoes being thrown is disgust**

the WHY, however, requires a little more explanation...

i love people. i love meeting new people. i love networking and connecting the dots between the various degrees of relational separation. one of the things i thrive on the most is being able to call someone a "new friend." i've been very fortunate in my young life to have traveled and experienced much and, with that, has come the opportunity and the great fortune of making and having "friends" all over the world. because i sit at a desk all day, my real one link to keeping up with these people is through the internet. i have made great strides and am continuing to nurture my close friendships through phone calls, handwritten letters, and visits but i need a tool to help foster the relationships with those individuals who i had the pleasure of knowing intimately only for a season of my life. thus, i bring you myspace.

i was still resistant of getting back on myspace because i wanted to "stand my ground." i wanted to be consistent and loyal to my first ever blog - the one where i declared the death of my myspace alter-ego. but i was recently inspired by the story of a friend and the way in which myspace was the tool that brought her back into the life of someone she thought she'd really never talk with again.

her name is susie. and this is the story of how susie met eric...again...on myspace:

susie and eric went to college together and were great friends. he was dating someone, she was dating someone, and they were content in their close friendship. despite their respective love interests at the time, both susie and eric were both attracted to each other but neither one ever said anything about it for fear of ruining a good thing: being great friends. college ended and susie and eric went their separate ways. they spoke off and on at the beginning but then their communication sort of trailed off. cut to some 6 years later...susie lives in los angeles and eric lives in atlanta (or somewhere over there). susie gets an inkling to wonder "hmmm...i wonder what eric is up to." the details of exactly what happened next are a little fuzzy as i was listening to this story while shoving chips and french onion dip into my face at a bbq, but the main point is this: susie found eric again on myspace, sent him a message, and the two started talking again. eventually those myspace chats led to emails which led to phone calls which led to confession: they both liked each other and had liked each other for years. i'm happy to report that in a matter of 3 months, susie and eric have started dating, had their first kiss, and susie is moving back to the south to be with him. they're already talking about marriage. these two have always known they were meant to be together.

ps - did i mention that when susie went looking for eric on myspace he had only just joined 2 days before??? (sigh)

when i heard their story, i got to thinking...maybe myspace is NOT the devil after all... while i don't expect to find my long lost soul-mate on the thing, i can at least use it as a tool for people to find me if they're looking and a way for me to keep up with those special people with whom i shared some great memories at one time or another in the past.

so, with that, i'm back on myspace. my profile isn't as fancy and i don't have near as many friends. at least, though, if that dude who sat behind me in mrs. hamilton's physical science class and smelled my hair all day wants to find me, he can.

plus, i work for rupert murdoch who owns myspace now so i like to think i rejoined to support the company.

excerpt from an instant message - PART 2: cute as a button?

2006-06-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

E - fabulous
T - most fabulous
E - fab
E - crap
E - i messed that flow up
T - too cute
T - it's all good in the hood
E - gravy train
E - you're top notch
T - cute as a button
E - well, you're that too, i guess
T - allthough I must say I have never really found buttons to be that cute at all more functional if anything
E - isn't that so true
T - why not cute at a zipper
E - theyre mostly just pieces of round plastic with 4 awkard holes...imagine someone calling you that "you're as cute as a round piece of plastic with 4 holes"....loses its zing
E - or perhaps clasp?
T - soooo true
E - yeah
E - these are things my mind thinks of a lot
E - and i can see you, too, often contemplate such complexities
T - now if a friend said thanks for helping me out of that jam "you were a real piece of velcro" I would know what he ment
E - well duh
E - that one's easy to figure out
T - tru dat tru dat
E - some are just crystal clear, some aren't end. of. story.
T - did you like that that was my getto slang
E - e for effort
T - I thjought it was a valid effort to apeal to the younger hipper crowd
E - which you did (and we thank you)
T - I must say it's saddens me to have to end this wonderfully colorful covorsasion but I must go to my dojo and stdy my matial arts
E - wax on
E - go my brother, go
T - I am learning how to wax off and paint the fence right now actually
T - good speed and as they say in 5th grade
T - later aligator
E - yes and god speed as they said on the titanic that fateful day
E - peace out playa

Confrontation/noitatnorfnoC

2006-06-20T14:41:00.000-07:00

Why is it so hard for me to confront people about issues that are bothering me? I view myself as a fairly strong individual, but sometimes I just feel weak.

I've been trying to talk to my boss at work about something for over 3 weeks (and I've had plenty opportunities to do so) and it's frustrating the poop out of me how tough it is for me to just walk in there and say "Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" Geez, what's so hard about that?

I once broke up with a boyfriend via email (an eloquent email, mind you) because I was afraid to talk to him face to face. Ok, "afraid" is the wrong word but what's a word that means "so totally freaked out about hearing his reaction and saying the wrong thing that I'm making myself sick in the way of frequent trips to the little ladies room." Is there a word for that? Most friends who called me "EMOSS" at the time of this virtual break-up started calling me "EMAIL" instead. I have to admit it was pretty embarrassing but it was totally true.

Do you ever have those moments where you totally had the power to stop something or change something and you just sat back with your mouth agape and watched it happen? That's how I feel every time I wuss out. I'm watching myself leave the office without saying anything and, at the same time, I'm screaming inside my own head "TALK TO HER YOU IDIOT. GROW SOME BALLS (well, not literally of course).

I'm having the hardest time figuring out why I can't confront people. Am I afraid to hurt their feelings? Yes. Am I afraid they will be "mad at me?" Yes. Am I afraid they won't like me anymore? Yes. I think I'm having a revelation as I'm typing this - I've unconsciously used the word "afraid" 3 consecutive times...I guess there's my answer. Why can't I confront people? I'm afraid to. (please refer to the paragraph above where I said "afraid" was the wrong word. you learn something new everyday...praise Jesus)

That's annoying. Fear is a powerful force. It can literally take someone who will gladly and voluntarily dress up in a unitard (flesh-colored) and dance to Paula Abdul's "Opposites Attract" and turn her into someone who can't even string a sentence together in front of her boss. (I'm talking about myself in both instances here) (ps - I also do a rousing rendition of "Straight Up" whilst wearing spandex bikers and a crop top).

(sigh) I'm exhausted of not being able to speak my mind.

I'm not sure how to combat the issue but I'm sure Paula might...

Any tips you may have would be greatly appreciated and your "comment" will serve as an I OWE YOU for a free 80s inspired dance performance.

The Forkin' tha Road

2006-06-19T20:29:00.000-07:00

If two roads diverge in a yellow wood and I, I take the one less traveled by, does that really make all the difference?

Oh Robert Frost, why hast thou created this all-too-familiar image of the "fork in the road" in my mind? I feel like I'm trapped inside the words of this classic American poem, always wondering if I'm traveling down that road not taken. As I think about Frost's words, I realize that at different times in my life, this poem has come to mean different things. It's quite simple really...

I would normally analyze this poem with fervor, carefully noting each poetic device or convention with precision. But I'd like to take a look, here, at the ways in which this poem has been interpreted (on a more general level) and applied to issues that have been swimming around in my heart and my head.

There's a great quote that sums up the first interpretation quite well. I'm not sure who said it but I know that we painted it on the wall of one of the stairwells at my high school in 11th grade. It was the stairwell that smelled like pot. And the quote, in all its inspiration, read something like this: "Stand up for what's right even if you're standing alone." Pretty simple to grasp, but not exactly the easiest concept to put into action. I'm sure you've heard it before (or at least some variation on a theme). There's also a pretty good chance you know who said it, as I can only imagine it was probably quoted by some majorly famous individual like Bono or Jesus. Right now I can't recall, so forgive me. You can mock my intelligence later.

Frost's poem both calls us all to know what we believe and, with that knowledge, calls us to consciously do what is just, righteous, and fair. I ask myself today, just as I asked myself that day in the stairwell surrounded by a purple haze, if I have the courage to stand alone. Do I? As a believer, it seems like this concept of "doing what's right" is even more of a burden. Wow, did I just call doing what's right a burden? Ha, that's ironic. I guess I just mean that there's an added pressure that comes along with being a Christian that isn't necessarily there for people who have nothing to hold them accountable to some sort of moral standard. I'd like to think that when faced with a decision, no matter how big, I try and first assess the situation (aka "take note of the fork") and then consider the consequences of each choice (aka "analyze the two roads"). When I've taken an adequate pause, I take that step toward the cleaner of the two paths. Frost's poem has been a comfort to me in times when I've faced issues of integrity and honesty. I feel like the more I'm challenged by other people's lifestyle choices or beliefs, the more I reaffirm my own.

Which path do you normally take? Do you jump on the bandwagon and mosey on down the dusty road of the masses? Or, like me, do you set out on foot down a path that you know is a bit lonelier along the way but more rewarding in the end? Tough stuff. If I close my eyes right now and think about that point of decisiveness, I see a rather dilapidated tree with no leaves and far-reaching branches standing firmly at the apex of a point of intersection. To the right of the tree's base is one path and to the left is another. I stand there, turning my head back and forth, trying my very hardest to discern which of these paths is the safest choice. When I realize that the decision won't come to me on my own merit, I bow my head and ask Jesus to help me decide. All of a sudden the path to the left becomes illuminated, as if it's beckoning me to its end. Sure I'm willing to stand alone if it means standing up for "what's right," but, if that's true, that can only mean one thing: Jesus must either be on my back or have no legs cause I can promise you, He's there, too. I ain't just standin' alone!

Interpretation numero deux is a little different than answering the question of which path is right and which path is wrong. Here, the fork represents two nearly equal choices but just calls for a decision for the sake of only being able to go one way. To put it more simply, "Billy, you can either have a hotdog OR a hamburger, but not both. Now pick one." A hotdog isn't necessarily more "right" than a hamburger, just different. And there, my friends, is the other "Road Not Taken." If Billy chooses the hotdog, will it be as satisfying as if he would have chosen the hamburger? Is he so hungry that it really doesn't matter which one he chooses but just that he makes a choice? Will Billy choose the hotdog and always wonder what if he would have eaten that juicy burger? (In the above illustration, "hotdog" and "hamburger" are used as placeholders for major life decisions and "Billy" represents you and me). Sometimes I find that it's just as hard to pick between doing what's right and doing what's wrong as it is between doing what you think, at the time, will make you the happiest. Here, the road not taken isn't more deserted because less people are afraid to stand up for something. No, here, the road is less taken because we all have natural tendencies to form patterns in our decision making. It's just less traveled because we make it that way. For example, If I'm given the choice between going to see a movie and going outto da club, 99% of the time you can find me in a theater. That's just me. So how much of it becomes an acutal choice and how much of it is ingrained in who we are?

I've been forced to take a look at Frost's words yet again, as I'm coming upon some major life decisions. They're never easy, that's for sure. So, I'll stand there at the base of that ole leafless tree and ask, as if it were the first time, "Which road should I take?" I can only hope that if I choose to eat the hamburger, I'll be full and happy and satisfied. That's all I can really ask for.

reach out and touch somebody's hand - just make sure it's clean

2006-06-15T10:09:00.000-07:00

I work behind a desk all day - at the end of a long hall, with no officemates, separate from my department, across from the men's restroom. Sounds glamorous, I know. Hey, how many people can say they've seen Ben Stiller go pee? Well, I technically didn't see the actual peeing but I watched him go in AND I watched him come out. So, there. I also had to direct him to the correct door, as he was originally heading into the ladies room. Silly, Ben.

I digress...Point is, it's lonely down here. Real lonely. The ONE thing that I have to keep me company (besides the agents, writers, etc who call me on the phone...actually only looking for my boss but boy do I appreciate it when they pretend they want to talk to me) is my computer. I have my computer. I know that while I stare blankly at my screen there are, at that very moment, a multitude of other restroom watchers and clock punchers who are doing the exact same thing. We all just want so badly to connect with people but have to resort to choppy IM convos or time lapse email exchanges to make that happen. Heck, even as I write this blog I'm envisioning hundreds of little cubicle elves bringing it up on their screens and reading (and laughing). I haven't even posted it yet and already I feel as though my writing this blog with fulfill this desire I have to interact with people while being chained to a crappy black rolly chair with one bad wheel.

These 9-5 existences (which are actually more like 8-8...come on, you know who you are) are literally draining those of us who thrive on social interaction. A voice on the other end of the line or a cute, witty one liner in an email is not enough to get me through. Sorry, Charlie, but I need the real deal. Don't get me wrong, I have totally been swallowed by the tech culture. And sometimes it actually is fun. Yeah, I blog. I have a couple email accounts, buy things online, use Netflix, stalk friends on thefacebook...but none of it is a substitute for meeting someone for coffee or going over to someone's house, kicking off your shoes, and chatting over a bowl of Ben-N-Jerry's. I know things are only going to get worse, not better. Society is making it harder and harder for those of us who simply like time to talk to someone face-to-face to get our fix. But I think, for me at least, I have to make a conscious effort to keep it old school. What do I plan to do? Well, for starters, I am starting to correspond with three of my best girlfriends through good ole handwritten letters. You heard me...snail mail. I think it's such a personal gesture, plus when we're old ladies we'll have these bundles of letters all tied up with, I'm imagining pink ribbon, that we can reread and reminisce. It's so Charles Dickens (think BLEAK HOUSE here).

So, for all of you out there who just watched an old dude with a thinning hairline go to the bathroom for the third time in 2 hours, just wait for him to come out and offer up a "hello." Maybe even a handshake...ok, that might be risky. But, you have to start somewhere.

love-opoly

2006-06-15T09:35:00.000-07:00

win
lose
risk
play
cheat
bet
strategize
manipulate
give up

the game of love...

excerpt from an instant message - PART I: david silver

2006-06-14T12:03:00.000-07:00

E - are you there? OMG please respond when you see this
S - what
E - guess who is in the hall
S - who? oh God, who?
E - Brian Austin Greene
S - NO EFFING WAY!!!!
E - yes
S - He is sooooo hot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tell me what he looks like what is he wearing?
E - and i walked past him and tried to say "hey how are you doing?" and it came out as ALL WHISPERS...yes, he is hot
S - hahahaha
E - jeans and a red shirt
S - does he look old? is his hair really short?
E - Seriously as if a ghost had stolen my voice
E - yes
S - did he respond?
E - short hair
E - yes he did "Hey how are you"
S - no way
E - yes
S - effffff shut up omg i am so jealous
E - this is hilarious...i wish i had spoken with noise
S - dang...is he tall? average?
E - not too tall...average
S - gah I am star struck FOR you
E - i want to keep walking by but it would be too obvious...i don't want to be "that girl"
S - dude, i would
E - he's def a C to B lister i love those
S - totally they're the best kinds
E - they are the best
S - i know...he was in Freddie did it get canceled? ooohhhh i really want to watch 90210...he has incredible comedic timing it really surprised me
E - so you've told me...i never saw it
S - it's really funny plus he's fun to look at
E - he has tatoos
S - i know HOT

It's as if we were a couple of thirteen year old girls who just saw Raven Symone...

agent x

2006-06-13T21:50:00.000-07:00

Most of us are dorks. Let's face it. Everyone has those little guilty pleasures that they want to keep secret for fear of someone finding out and forever deeming them "weird." Who wants the "weird" label? The truth is that most times when someone does uncover a dirty secret indulgence of ours it ends up not being that big of a deal. The other person, to our surprise (and relief), usually says something to the effect of "Oh, yeah...I know...I do that, too!"

Why am I telling you all of this? Because I want to tell you one of the many things that puts me on the "weird" list - a place that I'm honored to be. I make no attempt at hiding that fact that I am, in many ways, a real D-O-R-K. How do I know that? Well, I answered "yes" to more than 3 of the following 5 questions.

1. Would you rather shop for electronics equipment over clothes?
2. Have you ever gone to or wanted to go to a Sci Fi Convention?
3. Can you name the actress who plays Xena Warrior Princess?
4. Do you know the name of the spin-off series created from The X-Files?
5. Do you or did you ever like to study rather than "get wasted?"

There it is. The DLT - Dork Litmus Test. Needless to say I passed with flying colors.

I work in television so normally it's not a big deal seeing someone famous. It's always cool, but I'm not the kind of person who gets "star struck." I usually give it a little "wow...that's neat" moment in my head and move on. I also hate it when people want to take pictures with stars or get their autograph. Just leave them alone. I'd much rather just say hello and, if I am a fan of their work in some way, let them know it. BUT...there are a select few persons (the number of which I could probably count on one hand) that if I were to be around, could revert me into super dork mode. It's a very child-like feeling to be a fan of something so much that the thought of getting close to it makes you almost speechless. Well, my friends, It happened to me. Let me explain...

My favorite show of ALL time is, without a doubt, The X-Files. I never actually watched the show while it was on the air in the 90s but started watching the reruns when they started coming on late at night. At first they just scared the crap out of me, but then I started watching more diligently and the true brilliance of the show began to emerge. My good friend Larry was a fan of the show and had purchased a box set for his viewing pleasure (Season 4, I believe). He was determined to make me a true fan after I had told him that I was really enjoying the show. (PS - I still remember the very first episode I ever saw. I can't think of the name at the moment but it was the one that took place at a carnival with all these weird sideshow people...a puzzle man in particular. There was this one guy who had a deformed Siamese twin who would detach itself and go around killing people. Ah, what great stories). Anyway, so Larry invited me over to spend the night at his house and our goal was to watch as many episodes as we could. We tried to stay up the entire night but I think we crashed somewhere around 4:30 am. It was a valiant effort and, I can honestly say, made me the fan I am today.

If you haven't seen the show, I encourage you to get a season on DVD. When I started buying them, one season was 150 bucks. Now you can get 'em for 25 bucks a pop - a virtual STEAL. There are about 6-7 discs per season and each episode is roughly 44 min long. That's a lot of watching for 25 bucks. Not only is it a great buy economically, but the show itself will hook you simply by watching the pilot. Chris Carter is someone I would absolutely love to meet. Each episode is so carefully crafted that they are more like mini-movies than anything else. Some episodes are stand alones, just your good 'ole monster story or mystery. Others follow some sort of theme, whether it be the search for Mulder's sister, the alien conspiracy, Scully's abduction, or simply who to trust. It's television at its finest. (find the complete episode guide here)

I say all these things so that you can better understand how cool of a day Thursday June 8th was for me. I met one of the few celebrities that could cause me to become one of those people I hate. I didn't embarrass myself too bad but definitely found myself a little giddy. It was very bizarre. Who was this person, you might ask? Well, only Gillian Anderson - THE Special Agent Dana Scully from all 9 seasons of The X-Files. It was a day that I will tell the grandkids about.

Here's the recap of the day I met Gillian:

So, I was at work when my boss got an invite to see a special Emmy screening of the BBC mini-series BLEAK HOUSE followed by a Q & A with some cast and crew. By this point, I had already seen the Emmy screener we got in the mail of BLEAK HOUSE because Gillian Anderson plays one of the leads so - my interest was piqued. BLEAK HOUSE is absolutely phenomenal if you haven't seen it. Of course, Gillian is brilliant, but that's not why I liked it. It's beautifully acted, beautifully written, and visually stunning. It's a must. I knew that my boss wouldn't want to go to the event but knew that this may be my one and only chance to see her in person, as Gillian Anderson now lives in London. I called around and ended up getting to attend the event on my own merit AND was allowed to bring a guest with me. Who to bring? Hmmmm..... The choice was simple: my roommate and recently converted X-Files fanatic Sydney (you're welcome). When I told her over IM she started freaking out. It was great. We joked about the Q & A and how it would probably go something like this:

Sydney: "Scully...:"
Gillian: "It's Gillian, actually..."
Sydney: "Right, so Scully....what was it like being abducted by aliens and/or kissing David Duchovny?"

We laughed.

So June 8th rolls around and all day long I just kept hoping that everything would work out. My biggest fear would be that we would get there and my name wouldn't be on the list. Ugh, that would suck. I made sure to leave work at 5:30 pm on the nose in order to make it over to Sunset Blvd to The Directors Guild Theater which is where the event was held. I met Syd outside and she and I headed on in (we were getting really jazzed by this point). It was such an eclectic crowd, a crazy mix of young and old. There was a reception going on when we got there but we decided it would be best to just stand by the theatre door so that we would be the first ones in. We couldn't risk getting a crappy seat - not for this. They opened the doors at 10 til and we made a beeline for the front row. It was reserved so we settled for the second. We were sitting there realizing what losers we were and watching the rest of the crowd file in. Even though this was a BLEAK HOUSE event, we could TOTALLY spot who in the crowd were avid X-Filers. There was this one guy who sat behind us who had all the classic signs: sandals with socks, mismatched clothes, glasses, and a long grey ponytail. Gotta love 'em. The theatre filled up quickly and the lights went out. Apparently they were screening everything first and then bringing the actors to the stage to chat. When the lights were completely off, the panelists were ushered into the theatre and directed to sit on the front row. At that moment, I heard someone say "Gillian, you can sit here." And there she was, sitting right in front of me. I grabbed Sydney's hand and looked at her with one of those "I can't believe this is really happening" looks and she gave me the "This could not get any better" look back. Good times.

After the screening, there was the Q & A session with Gillian, writer Andrew Davis, and actor Charles Dance. The moderator was some gal who was the editor of VARIETY and, I'm just being honest here, she didn't do a good job. Anyway, you could tell that Gillian was a little annoyed by her but she still managed to answer all her questions with eloquence. You could tell she's smart just by the words she chose. Love that. I kept looking at Sydney and whispering "She's tired" as if I knew Gillian personally and she had told me how sleepy she was on the car ride over. I have no idea why I kept saying that. I don't know her at all! I just felt like she was tired, that's all. Sydney and I laugh about that now, too. She'll just randomly look over at me, touch my arm, and whisper "She's tired." I'm such a loser.

So, the juicy part. The Q & A is over and everyone is leaving the theatre. Gillian and crew come off the stage and sort of hang around to meet and greet. Sydney and I stood there wondering if we should go over and say hi and, if we did, what would we say? We didn't want to be uncool, but we did want to meet her. Plus, this was a BLEAK HOUSE event and I didn't want to make this about The X-Files when she was there promoting her new piece of work. We wanted to represent that cool sector of X-Files fans - the ones who have an active social life and fashion sense but who just REALLY love the stories and performances. As we were pondering all of this, I was fumbling with my camera just in case. In a moment of extreme nerd-dom, I said "We have to do this. It's now or never. This is one of the ONLY things I'll allow myself to get weird about." With that brilliant utterance we decided to go get a pic. As we made our way to her, she was being ushered away from us and we could tell that our opportunity was slowly slipping away. She put her coat on and started heading up the aisle and that's when I knew that was it - we had missed the boat. Just then, through some kind of alien miracle, she turned back around to leave out the back door instead. As we watched her come back down the aisle, I knew that if I didn't say something she would just slip by. Sydney was no help, as she had turned into some sort of wide-eyed mute by this point. In that moment, I did it - I reached out and grabbed Gillian's arm to get her attention. She looked at me and I kinda froze. I had her attention, now what? I fumbled for what seemed like forever and then I asked her if it would be "terribly inappropriate to ask if she could take a picture with us." She said "No, not at all." YAHTZEE!!! I passed off the camera to an older lady and Syd and I gathered around Gillian, of course remembering to put our arms around her back as the photo was being snapped. The whole time I kept thinking that this lady was going to take the pic, Gillian would walk away, then we'd go to look at it and the picture would be of a chair or something. After the flash went off, we thanked Gillian and I apologized for snagging her on her way out. She didn't mind :) We reviewed the pic on my camera as she walked away and, I'm happy to report, it did indeed turn out ok. Phew.

So, that's the story of how I met Scully. It was a victory for dorks everywhere.

Here's the pic. Notice her restrictive coat. She totally wanted to put her arms around us, too, but she couldn't considering the fabric and the cut.

what the bible has to say about worry

2006-06-13T20:49:00.000-07:00

Matthew 6:25-34

The Cure for Anxiety

25"This is why I tell you: Don't worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Isn't life more than food and the body more than clothing? 26Look at the birds of the sky: they don't sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren't you worth more than they? 27Can any of you add a single cubit to his height by worrying? 28And why do you worry about clothes? Learn how the wildflowers of the field grow: they don't labor or spin thread. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was adorned like one of these! 30If that's how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, won't He do much more for you—you of little faith? 31So don't worry, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear?' 32For the idolaters eagerly seek all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you. 34Therefore don't worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

This was sent to me by a close friend today. Don't really need to "blog" about it - just thought that it could be helpful to those of you out there who might be worrying about something...

the eye of the storm - rita and katrina

2006-06-13T16:26:00.000-07:00

The South. The Bayou. The Gulf Coast. God's Country. Sportsman's Paradise. A place like no other - LOUISIANA. I wouldn't want to be from anywhere else. I've known it all my life but it just now seems like our little boot-shaped heaven is being introduced to the rest of the world thanks to the visit of two very lovely ladies early last fall. What's weird is that it seems like Hurricane Katriana and Rita just happened and it's already hurricane season once again. Everyone back home is "nerveene" (my mom's word for "nervous").

I had just moved out to Los Angeles two weeks before the big one hit New Orleans. Now, I'm not from New Orleans but anyone from the great state of Louisiana holds that city close to their heart. New Orleans boasts some of the best music, food, and art in the entire world and it has an energy like noplace else on Earth. Heck, still to this day people assume that when I say I'm from "Louisiana" I automatically mean "New Orleans." News flash - there are other cities in the state. Regardless, when I found out that Katrina had devestated this rich and beautiful place my heart fell heavy. As I sat at my desk trying my best to schedule meetings, read scripts, and answer phones, all I could do was think about the French Quarter and surrounding areas being under water. Luckily, most of that area of town was spared massive water damage but the 9th Ward was completely wiped out, as were cities in Mississippi. I had a lot of family who lost their homes in Katrina, along with their summer waterfront home in Bay St. Louis. They, like most everyone there, were forced to evacuate and many of them came over to Lake Charles (my hometown) to stay with my grandparents. They were safe there for about 2 weeks and then...Rita hit.

The approach and eventual strike of Hurricane Rita on my hometown of Lake Charles, LA was documented on my computer as I worked in Los Angeles. Like I said, I had just moved out to LA to work in television and had no way of getting in touch with anyone back home. I, myself, still had a Louisiana cell phone number so no one could call me either. It was a mess. Below I have included what I experienced being here in LA when the storm hit:

September 23, 2005 (Friday)

Hurricane Rita is all over the news. As she swiftly approaches the coast, it seems more and more like Lake Charles is going to be the target. I’m sitting at my desk at work and I feel helpless. I can’t get in touch with my family and I can’t follow what’s going on because I don’t have a TV in my office. My friend Jordan is watching Fox News in her office and giving me updates over instant messenger. I keep running down to her office anytime she says that they mention Lake Charles. I’m glad that they city evacuated in time but it still worries me to think of the possibility of losing my house. My family is dispersed all over the south - South Carolina, Arkansas, Northern Louisiana, Baton Rouge. Cell phone towers are down and my sister doesn’t have a landline. I hate not being able to talk to my family. It’s the worst feeling. In the back of my mind I know that they are OK and they will be OK after the storm passes but you never can say “I love you” too many times. I think that Lynn senses that I am a little preoccupied. She keeps asking if I have talked to my parents. “No,” I say. At the end of the day she made a very kind gesture. She invited me to come home with her and spend time with her and her family. She knew that I needed to be around a family in a time like this, even if it wasn’t my own. So, I gladly took her up on her offer. I left my car at Fox in the parking garage and went over to her apartment. Her husband and kids greeted us at the door and my mind was instantly taken off of the hurricane for the first time all day. We talked, played a board game, ate pizza, and watched TV. It was perfect. I love hanging out with kids. It always puts me in a better mood. I went to bed at about midnight. The Lord only knows what will have happened overnight…

September 24, 2005 (Saturday)

Well, good news and bad news. The good news is that the storm came onto land weaker than expected. The bad new is that it pretty much came right over Lake Charles. I had to wake-up early because Echo, Lynn’s daughter, had to go to a soccer game at 8:00 am. So, like the little dysfunctional family that we were, we all piled into Ricardo’s Saturn and headed to the field. The game was fun even though they didn’t win. It’s always neat seeing people with their families. You get to know whole different side of them. A good side… I still hadn’t heard from my family yet. So frustrating. After the soccer game we grabbed some greasy but delicious Tommy’s Hamburgers and headed back to the apartment. Lynn and Ricardo both said that I could stay as long as I wanted. I sat and watched news footage of the aftermath of Hurricane Rita. Suddenly, there they were – images of my city on the national news. Live reports being beamed through a satellite and through the rain right to the TV in front of me in California. It was the strangest feeling to see places that I know and love being shown in shambles. I felt very helpless. I could tell, though, that the flooding was confined to most of the historic downtown/waterfront area, which was a good thing. My house wasn’t that close. The only thing that really worried me was my grandparents’ house on the lake. I could just picture there beautiful home submerged beneath that cloudy, muddy water. I prayed hard. I left Lynn’s house later in the afternoon, making sure to hug her and tell her how much it meant that she offered up her family for my benefit. I went home to a dark and empty apartment and fell asleep. I woke up to my cell phone ringing by my ear. Was it mom? Was it dad? No. Still no word from my family. It was my friend, Jessi, on the phone calling about our evening plans. She, Haely, and I had decided to go to dinner and then head over to the Bungalow Club on Melrose to wish my co-worker, Jordan, a happy 24th birthday. This would be good for me and once again take my mind off what was going on in Louisiana. I showered, got dressed, and hopped in the car: destination Burbank. On my way there, I was singing very loudly to Sytx’s “Come Sail Away” when my cell phone buzzed. A text message. I expected it to be from Jessi or Haely inquiring about my whereabouts because I was running a few minutes late. To my surprise, it was a text message from my Uncle Bill. “MOM AND DAD ARE OK. HOUSE IS OK. LOVE YOU.” I didn’t have his number programmed in my phone so I had no idea, at first, who had sent me this message. It was weird. Finally, a few minutes later I got a call from my dad. Relief. It was so great to hear his voice. He had been to Lake Charles to check on our house and overall everything was fine. We got pretty lucky. Our fence was gone, trees were uprooted, and some of the roof was messed up but that’s it. My dad tried to go over to Mimi’s house to check on it but he couldn’t make it by car. There were too many trees. He hopped on this 4-wheeler and trudged through the wreckage to get to her place on the lake. The house was fine. No broken windows, which in that house is a miracle. One whole side of the house is a window. Because the house was up on a hill it was spared by the floodwaters. The water level was so high that it reached the roof of the boat dock at the end of the warf. My dad attempted to go and check my other grandmother’s house next but wasn’t successful. The road was completely filled with fallen trees and power lines making the only entrance to her house obsolete. He headed back to Baton Rouge to my mom and sister to report the damage. Other family and friends had also gone into town to check on their homes and properties. Some people weren’t as lucky as we were. Not only were structures crushed by the hurricane, but so were many memories. A tree fell through Miller Flynt’s house AND the roof was torn completely off of his dad’s elegant restaurant, Café Margeaux. It doesn’t make sense that some people get struck so hard by the effects of the storm and others, like us, walk away nearly scott-free.

September 27, 2005 (Tuesday)

I just talked to my dad. He’s in Baton Rouge staying with my sister. I haven’t talked to him since Saturday night. Today’s Tuesday. It’s been hurricane central in Baton Rouge and surrounding Louisiana cities as hurricane evacuees from both Katrina and Rita take refuge with family and friends. My mom said that Lake Charles looks like a war zone. Huge trees have been uprooted exposing massive root systems to the air. Roads are impassable thanks to fallen debris and roughage. Police are guarding all of the entrances into Lake Charles so my parents had to take back roads to find their way into the city yesterday. On many streets there was no way through so they had to stop on the side of the road and walk to their destination. I asked my dad why he wasn’t documenting it; why he wasn’t taking pictures. He told me there’s just no time. “You just have to do what you need to do and get out,” he said. Some of my dad’s friends were helping Mr. Mickey clean up all of the trees that had fallen in his yard and on his house. There was one huge tree that fell right through the roof. Some of the guys were taking chainsaws to the branches on top of the house, trying to clear some sort of pathway. My dad was delivering ice to them in his truck and accidentally backed up over Mr. Mickey’s dog. My dad said it was the last thing he wanted to do – yell up to a man who was removing a huge tree from the middle of his second story and tell him that he had just run over his sixteen-year-old dog. But he had to do it. “It was a hell of a day in Lake Charles,” he said. And that I don’t doubt.

September 29, 2005 (Thursday)

I talked to my mom this morning. It was so great to hear from her. The first words out of her mouth, following her usual “Hey Emmy” were “It’s not good over here.” The phone started breaking up but the signal finally regained strength. My dad is going to Lake Charles today with Uncle Bill and Samuel. He bought a little air-conditioning unit for the window so that they can stay at the house and start working on the damage. My mom told me that the Baton Rouge papers said that it could be as long as a month before residents are allowed to go back to Lake Charles. That’s a long time… I spoke with my sister and she is getting frustrated with my parents staying at her apartment, which is totally understandable. My mom is thinking about coming here to California to visit while my dad works on the house. My sister wants to come here too but not with my mom. Who know…it seems as though someone will end up here at some point. I’d better get out the air mattress. I envy my sister in a way. I wish I could spend some quality time with my family right now. I really miss them. People continue to send me emails telling me that they are thinking and praying for my family. The outpouring of support in times of tragedy is really amazing to me. It gives me a good feeling about humanity.

myspace in mourning

2006-06-13T13:06:00.000-07:00

Well, I finally did it. I killed emo.

She's that "23 yr old female from Valley Village, CA" that I was known as on my MySpace page whose "About Me" section merely read "scrumtrulescent." I was apparently a friend to over 200 people, according to my friend requests, so I hope at least a few of them are sad to see me go. For those of you who are perhaps a bit scared that I began my first blog with a murder, relax. All that fancy talk above simply means that I finally cancelled my account on MySpace and made the switch over to something a bit more cerebral. To be honest, I was tired of the constant pressure to "update my profile" and "upload/change my photos." I know some people who change their MySpace pages about 4 times a day and I just couldn't compete with that.

I was inspired by my friend and fellow intellectual, Anton Seim, to get in on this blog thing after reading a few of his ramblings (aka brilliantly penned entries). It was like looking through a secret window into his head, sort of like that little door in Being John Malkovich. (Great movie, BTW) Anywho, I thought that instead of trying to scribble journal entries into my Moleskine notebooks I could do this instead. I guess I'll treat it like a my own portal of sorts. Maybe now other people can get into my head the way that John Cusack did to 'ole JM.

So, bloggers, here I am. I'm a first-timer so be gentle. This should be fun.