Dec 12, 2007

Rent, Ramen, and other Recent Randomness

I have to fly again. I don't like flying. Wait, that's a lie. I don't like airports. Once I'm on the actual plane, I'm golden, but I disliked the airport experience prior to 9/11. I had no idea just how bad it could get, though. Man. Beam me up, Scotty, ok? Why can't I just teleport home for the holidays? Y'know, just keep the flies out…

So, aside from having to fly again, what else have I been up to? It's been awhile since I've written, namely because I still do not have my PC back. I'm on my lap top right now. It's a dinky, cheap little thing that served it's limited purpose well, but now that I have to use it full time, I am seriously missing my desktop. I like lot's of space and bigness. Gimme a big wide screen and a large keyboard and enough memory to run multiple apps!

I need money.

Let's see, because I'm a 'tard and can't park a Kia, I owe $850 to Enterprise for scraping the side of the door along the support beam in our garage. Um, rent, which is like $900 something… What else? The car is due for smog and new registration, but we both have so many tickets I'm surprised we haven't been arrested. Did I mention rent? Oh, and food…

I miss food.

Ramen only works for so long… Mrs. Dash became my best friend. Bulk Mac 'n' Cheese with Guvment Cheese chunks added… Mmmm. We out the guvment cheese now though, sadly.

I hope this isn't depressing you. I don't mean to depress. Rather, think of it like this, if you're having a bad day today or a bad week or even month… Well, you can't possibly be worse off than we (unless you work in film & television), so rejoice in your abundance!

What can I rejoice? I can rejoice getting a certain card recently… I do not want to be specific so you either "get it" or you don't. Any which way around, next time my ovaries attack, I will have the best defense mechanism ever. And it will be legal. Wicked.

But what have I been doing? Well, I've been assisting in launching an up-start company (as mentioned in a previous blog) and that has been taking up A LOT of my time, BUT being that it is "start up" I ain't makin' no money…

Thing is, I believe in the project, so it's worth the sacrifice, but with there being no work in Hollywood right now, the boy ain't making any bread, see, so, like, tough fucken times, man…

We've been selling off our camera collection on eBay, but that's tricky and we got hassled today with some crazy chick in the UK who wicked overpaid but we never really got the money and now she wants us to send our account info to some pastor in Nigeria and I'm like, um, yeah, no. I don't think so, lady. SCAM.

AND Jeremy's WAMU card got duped and some jackass stole $300 putting our account into a negative balance.

Like, do we really need that right now?

I'm sitting here adding up all this bad nonsense and wondering what the heck the Universe is trying to teach me. The value of money? I get it! I get it already! Now just send me a check so I can pay off my bills. (I'm asking the Universe here, not you the reader, unless of course you the reader would like to contribute to the "get Mel the Hell out of debt fund," in which case MAIL me. Ha! Hey, ya never know?)

Well, I gots to go dig for quarters so I can do my laundry and not have to pack stinky clothes…

Nov 12, 2007


There is a lesson I need to learn here.

The Universe (God, Buddha, or whomever you pray to) is making that very clear to me.

With the housing putting the clamp down on our slumlords and our subsequent like-new apartment, I experienced a rebirth of sorts…

But instead of being born, I'm stuck in the birthing canal…

The apartment is still in a state of flux… It's been two weeks, which I guess isn't really that long when you consider we gutted almost our entire apartment… New carpet, fresh paint, lot's of mold removal… So, we took advantage of the opportunity to de-clutter, a great idea that in practice becomes quite the chore.

Well, just when the place really started getting to me, meaning I want it ready now! Well, just then, I go get another painful cyst that has brought me to my knees for over a week now.

I'll call my doctor tomorrow to schedule an appointment, but, really, I thought I was healing…

I guess it's time to start seeking holistic help…again.

I've already begun to implement changes to my diet (no more caffeine starting today – that's gonna be wicked hard!)…

I need to figure out what's causing these… pain management alone is not the solution.

I'll rest now, but when I feel better I really need to seek out alternative paths to health.

And I don't have time to play around, I got stuff I need to do, man!

Like help promote my mentor's debut solo album.

It's the first ever-jazz tuba solo album ever.

That's important. History in the making.

I haven't got time for the pain, man.

However, I did get a treat this weekend when an old friend visited. We went to Griffith Park with her family. We've known each other since second grade. It's so much fun to connect with old friends – helps remind you who you really are and how much you've grown and experienced in life since then. Kind of amazing, really.

It's important to have reminders of growth… We live in such a selfish world where we imprison ourselves in our minds, but we need other people, we need to connect, to share experiences, to laugh, remember what's really important.







However, I was kinda embarrassed when they came up... We look like we just moved in with all our stuff in crates and boxes piled in heaps on either end of the living room... Ugh!

Anyone wanna help me de-clutter/re-organize? I got cookies and candy and orange soda. Hello? Anyone? Echo-ko-ko-ko-koooh. Ok, fine. I'll be in my bunk with my Vicoprofen.

Oct 31, 2007

Living the Dream

For the first time I realize I am exactly where I want to be. I'm on the right path.

I've struggled with my path most my life. I've always felt I've had a calling, but I'm sort of a Jane-Of-All-Trades, so I never really fully committed to just one thing.

It's kind of funny, really... So many people have told me over the years how lucky I am to know what I want to do with my life, to be so passionate about something, but the thing is there's so many things I want to do, so many things I'm passionate about that I've had a hard time. Period. I was going to elaborate, like hard time doing such and such, but really just a plain ole hard time of it, man!

But I guess hard times help you appreciate the good times, so, yeah, it's all good.

Oct 10, 2007

I’ve got nothing to say but it’s okay!

Spent two whole days in bed recently, because I felt a sinus infection coming on and figured just sleeping would help... But then sleeping too much gets me all depressed because when I'm not actually sleeping, I'm just laying there thinking.

Bad idea.

So, I start thinking about all sorts of crazy stuff... Stuff that seems to flit in and out of my mind on it's own accord...

Here was one thought process: what's the deal with all these ghost shows? Why so popular? Are there a heck of a lot more real hauntings than we realize? How much of it is a sham?

I believe in ghosts because I've seen them.

Our current apartment even came with one... I thought I was crazy at first, but when I finally told Jer, he trhought the same thing and he's waaaay more grounded than I am so I knew it was real.

I read up on a bunch of occult books and tried to get my hands on secret Catholic mysticism (like exorcism rituals and sych), but finally decided on the simple "smudging" and telling the ghost to "go into the light," more or less...

The thing is, the ghost was a kid. I read that kids often don't realize when they're dead so they linger.

He used to come in through our bathroom wall and sit in front of the TV on the floor right in front of the couch.

We'd both seem him like a blur in our peripheral vision then feel a cold spot on the flor where he sat. It was wicked weird, man.

So, yeah, we got rid of him, time went on, and we sort of forgot...

Well, then one day there was like a massive exodus of older tenants (new landlord, real slumbag, contstantly messes with us to kick us out ONLY because our place is worth about 300 or 400 more per month than we pay.

We are quiet, pay on time, don't bother anyone, no parties, heck, we barely even have any guests!

Just money... Well, anyway, tangent aside, we randomly met this older gent looking to give away/sell someof his stuff...

As we sat in his mirror-lined living room/bar, we listened to all his tales of how fun this building used to be when he was our age. They had parties every weekend for all tenants out by the pool in the courtyard. They even had a hot tub, where they'd warm up on cold nights...

Until one day, a boy got stuck to the bottom. Several people tried pulling him out, but the pressure was too strong. No one thought to just turn off the damn thing.

The boy died.

The now defunct hot tub is located directly outside our bathroom wall.

Jer and I looked at each other completely baffled.

I asked for a description and it was exactly what we'd seen... A dark haired boy in brightly colored swim trunks (only we weren't sure before if they were shorts or underwear or what, now we know).

If I ever doubted before that, I no longer do.

Well, I'm gonna go chill, maybe next time I'll tell you about my recurring dreams and the scary one my Mum had about me... I'm still trying to wrap my head around that one cause it is reall freaking me out.

PS: Sorry for any typos, I'm hungry & don't feel like editing...

Sep 26, 2007

My Favorite Movies A thru Z

I like making lists -- for everything. Mostly useful, but sometimes just for fun... Call it a mental exercise, if you will (others might call it typical Melissa procrastination, but I digress...).

Now, I know most people like to do the whole Top Ten business, but like listing things according to the alphabet. (I tried listing my favorite words once A thru Z but that led to me spending the better part of a day reading the dictionary and getting nowhere with the actual list...)

Anyway, this morning I made a list of movies and, well, since I have a lot of movie friends and MySpace is a place for lists, here ya go:

(Note: I did this off the top of my head mostly... I felt using imdb was cheating, so I might have a few missing... That and I had real issues with "S" and "R" and "T" -- there are just WAY too many awesome movies starting with those letters...)


Blade Runner



Empire Strikes Back, The

Fight Club



Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade

Jacob's Ladder


Last Temptation of Christ, The (I just could not choose The Lost Boys over, um, Christ, I mean, Scorsese. Sorry, Joel!)

Monty Python and the Meaning of Life

New Hope, A

Outsiders, The

Prophecy, The (The Princess Bride, close second -- but Viggo/Walken win)

Quick and the Dead, The

Return of the Jedi (Repo Man & Real Genius, runners up)

TIE: Serenity & Slither (I just could not choose! Strange Days, The Salton Sea, & The Specials, runners up)

Total Recall (Twelve Monkeys, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me, & Terminator, runners up)

Usual Suspects, The

Valley of the Dolls

Wild at Heart


Young Frankenstein


Now, what are yours?

Sep 25, 2007


Was awoken to the irritating voice of my landlord, Dragon Lady, and her maintainence crew to come fix all the crap that's wrong with my apartment...

Um, yeah, we had no notice whatsoever so I was like naked when I opened the door. Hi. Embarrassing!!!

So, anyway, I threw on some clothes and watched with utter amazement as they "fixed" my bedroom situation...

Ok, here's how it was: a ceiling fan/light combo that *does not work* with its cord stapled along the ceiling to the wall then down the wall to the outlet.

Here's how they "fixed" it: the guy ran a plastic covering along the wall to hide the cord.



The stupid fucking fan doesn't work in the first place and the cord is, like, illegal, so why not just take it all down?

Is that not the simplest, cleanest solution?

But no.

One word: kluge.

Next he replaces a bunch of outlets. Ok, um, meanwhile we have drawers stacked on top of each other in a gutted section of our kitchen cabinets and he's replacing outlets? We have a gaping moldy hole in our bathroom ceiling right over the tub/shower and he's replacing outlets. Right. Ok. This makes sense. Sure. This is why I am awake and clothed. For this stupidity. When I could be back in dreamland working out a few kinks in my character sketches, but no...

Next he tells me with a look of genuine concern in his eyes that he thinks he really should talk to his supervisor about my bathroom ceiling.

Ya think?


I tell him, "Yeah, we've been trying to get them to fix that for YEARS."

"That long?" He replies incredulously.

"Yes, that long. No joke. For real. Amen. Can I get a witness? Now fix it!"

So, yeah, he's gone now off to "talk" with his supervisor down in their strange little room in the garage/basement... Lots of plants down there. And kind of a funy smell. No. I kid. Or do I?

ANWAY, now I don't know what to do with myself...

Do I wait? Are they coming back? Can I take a friggin shower already? Ugh.

And then my 'boss' calls me because I sent him a spastic e-mail and he's all, "You on speed?" Ha! I wish. No, just lot's of Mountain Dew. My green crack. Haven't eaten yet. Haven't turned on the tv or music. Haven't read mail...

Ha! I haven't done a thing today but freak out. Awesome.

So, I told him why I was a spazz and he talked me down some but I'm still unsettled... I dislike having my little safe haven interfered with, man. Like, "Dave's not here, man." Go away! Artist creating!

I should totally make a sign and put that on my door.

With a ps: Unless you're UPS.

Cause, y'know, I gotta get my stuff.

Sep 22, 2007

I wrote you a poem...

Stone the genius
Mellow the muse
Make a fuss
Blow a fuse
Moody artists
Make good news

Sep 21, 2007

Hollywood Censorship

I wanted to blog about something but I was told I couldn't so now I'm bummed because I had this whole thing in my head that I wanted to share but it was thwarted so now I sit and stare at this blank screen wanting to talk about what's going on in my life and those around me but the deeper down the rabbit hole I go the less I seem to know and even lesser than that can I say.

I miss the days ago of my old Tripod site where I posted weekly rants without a care in the world about the repercusions of my words, but now I do. Now I care. So I sit and stare and search for words to write.

I saw Across the Universe. Thought it was absolutely brilliant. Julie is a Goddess!

I've been blowing off a lot of my friends lately and feel kinda shitty about it but I'm in major hermit mode spending half my time in pain and the other half working. *sigh* I just hope they understand... I know some do but others I worry I'll lose... The sacrifices we make for our dreams to come true.

A tight lipped, solitary world.....

Aug 20, 2007

New Cyst, Sour Mood, and Hot Fudge

I definitely know for sure I have another cyst, but I highly doubt anyone (aside from Jeremy) would want details on how... Regardless, I am totally bummed. I'm tired of being in pain. I'm tired of cramps. I'm tired of blood. I'm just sick and tired of all that.

Puts me in such a sour mood... I really dislike going out in public when I feel like this but I had errands to do today, so I had no choice.

I was going to go to Target but I just couldn't deal, so after circling around in a confused daze for 30 minutes I finally just decided to go to Larchmont since it's much smaller and way more private... It's like having your own speciall little secret neighborhood. I love it. (Plus I run into people I know, which while it can be annoying at times, is a pleasant event when it's someone cool like my favorite barista -- you know who you are even tho you're not on myspace, lol)... And I feel better having gotten most of my errands done (except for a paint brush, still need one big one)... I did treat myself with some Baskin Robins. Yum.

But I'm still in pain. It sucks to have your mind be racing and wanting to do all this stuff but your body can't. I'm only partially done repainting the kitchen walls, I seriously need to like steam clean the heck out of the kitchen... Looks like a Zombie's head exploded in the microwave, but I'm just so not feeling well I can hardly move...

When you can feel, I mean really feel your ovary, well, that in and of itself is friggin weird, never mind the additional pain.

Yet I have no painkillers... Well, no prescriptions, at least. I'm just so over pills. It's like a few years ago I was deep in a mountain of pills per day and now I don't even want to take a multi because I'd like to try to get everything my body needs from food and beverage, coz, like, that's how it's supposed to work, y'know? But, well, doesn't always...

What is the nutrional value of hot fudge anyway?

Oh, btw, I was thinking of killing all my other MySpace pages (except for the Platypus, Saint Asylum, & U2MP3s)... I just don't have the time anymore... So, kiss Floppy goodbye!

Aug 19, 2007

Picture This, Sharing Secret Worlds, and it is Not a Gag (I really am a Klutz)

First off, picture this…

It is hot out.
The pool beckons…
Glistening clear chlorinated water reflects the sun's rays…
One wall is heavy with green vines, hot pink flowers, and purple orchids.
Palm trees jut up into the clear blue sky. No cloud in sight.
You float. Ears underwater. No sounds but your heart beating and your breath.
The world ceases to exist in this tiny slice of paradise.
As much as I complain about my apartment, I love my pool.

I also love my secret world…
The advantage to being totally alone for several weeks is being able to create your very own secret world in your apartment.
Last night it was a spaceship.
Captain Zoe (my cat, that is her name, Firefly connections are a mere coincidence) had to steer the ship clear from the inbound Comet (another one of my cats, nearly 30 pounds of white fur and muscle, he's like a dog).
This is what I do in my secret world. Make videos of my cats doing stuff.
Captain Zoe, take us home!
That's what Jeremy would yell out right now if he were here.
We share our secret worlds and they are mostly in accord.
I love being able to share my secret world with someone.
Otherwise, I'm some kind of loner weirdo crazy cat lady and who wants that?

Oh! Are you ready for this? I know I joke a lot in my blog (and on NF's page) about being this uber klutz and I so want you to know just how real that is…

I had a meeting today, so I drove the Kia I'm renting up to NoHo and back.
Pulling into my garage, I totally scraped the damn car alongside the support beam next to my spot.
How stupid is that? Why do I do this shit? I mean, seriously, I am not retarded and am pretty darn smart and skilled in many things, but y'know, if I have to pull one cup out of the dispenser, 15 will come flying out instead. If I have to routinely park in my garage, the damn car has to get a huge ass scrape on it (not to mention paint, ugh!) and just has to be a rental. Like, of course.

Welcome to my life as a major klutz.

"The Secret" might suggest I make my own klutziness by thinking about being a klutz and then manifesting them but you know what? I can safely say I wasn't even remotely pondering the inner workings of klutziness at all, in fact I wasn't much thinking about anything when I ploughed the car into the pole, which is probably precisely why it happened in the first place.

I zone out in public a lot. I mean, like A LOT. I must appear to be the biggest space cadet ditz on the planet. In fact, I've had people read some of my work and then say stuff like, "I had no idea it'd be so good! I mean, wait, I didn't mean that, I mean, you seem like kind of flakey…" And I'll be all, "Yeah, no problem. I am flakey. Wicked flakey! Whatever."

But so what? As long as I didn't hit anyone and it's not like I was driving under the influence. I don't do that. I call a cab. Why? Because I'm not as stupid as the infamous bubble headed bleach blondes in Hollywood.

Speaking of being under the influence, I gotta go, um, see about something, I mean, wait, there's a TV show I wanna watch, and, um, look, my grandmother's on fire…

Actually, I have to finish rewriting some of my story. I can't say specifics, but I learned some interesting lessons today and I feel good!

Like, James Brown good.

Think I'm gonna dance now.

Aug 18, 2007

Just some jewelry I made...

I make jewelry to soothe my soul so I thought I'd share some of that secret world with MySpace via a photos...

Aug 13, 2007

Feel like I’m Lost on a Distant Planet... **updated**

Feel like I'm Lost on a Distant Planet... I am so out of touch it's ridiculous. I'm missing friends' birthdays, can't keep up with comments or mail, never mind blogs!

And that's just MySpace.

I've been cooped up working on a project... I have no clue what's going on in the news, the world, family, friends, pop culture...

Been getting cabin fever so I've made attempts at being social but it's like you can dress her up but you can't take her out....

Went to Hugo's in West Hollywood with a friend. Wicked good food, man. Ignore the B! I had an avocado-hummus wrap that was out of this world! For starters we had spring rolls that were so fresh they tasted like someone picked the veggies in the back yard just prior to serving. Yum!

I dropped my napkin, my knife, and later my whole meal (but it was a left over by then and I was home, thank god).

Before that I went to this Jamaican place (Cha Chas) with another friend, but being a vegetarian there wasn't much there for me to eat... Do they jerk everything? Yuck. But the atmosphere was awesome. All these virgin Mary's everywhere... No zombie jesus', tho.

I don't think I dropped anything there, but I felt like a dork anyway.

It's like, ok, I don't really know how to describe this, but while I'm working on something I feel like I'm completely disconnected with the world... Like that Visa commercial where everyone is moving in perfect unison then this guy pays with cash and everyone screeches to a halt. I'm like that guy whenever I leave my apartment.

So because my head's in this other space conjuring up scenarios and researching stuff I'm just completely marching to my own drum... At least I'm in LA where you can be a complete flake and temporarily forget how to drive a car when you're pulling out of the crowded post office lot... (Except for this one guy who was waiting in his car who kept telling me to cut my wheel more... I wanted to scream, maybe if you weren't watching me I could drive like a normal person!)

Ok, well, enough goofing off... I just wanted to let y'all know that I'm not purposefully blowing anyone off, I'm just crazy busy.

Edit: Wait! There's more!

So, after I wrote this I went to 7-11 for an emergency Slushee and dropped 4 or 5 cups on the floor.

Then I went to throw out my garbage, but I couldn't lift the bag up so this guy walking by tried to help me but it tore so a waterfall of cat litter fell on us.

I was mortified. I practically ran back in, took a shower with Purell, and fell over laughing in the middle of my living room.

Poor guy... was just trying to help someone out, gets a face full o' litter.

HAHAHA!!! Ok... I'm supposed to be done with The Project today but late late late last night I got this inspiring idea so now I'm changing it AGAIN. Oi! But first... I must watch Season 1 of Big Love. I'm addicted.


PS: Avocado Grill, Larchmont, best burritos ever. You, go now! Eat burritos!

Aug 5, 2007

Interesting Article on a Family Friend

Editor's Notes: How do we say farewell?
July 31, 2007 | Old Colony Memorial
By Scott C. Smith, CNC Newspapers

Call it a generation. That's about what 25 years is. And that's about how long Richmond Talbot wrote for the Old Colony Memorial. Yes, wrote.
There will be a void in this week's Weekend edition of the paper. Richmond and Annette Talbot have decided to hang up their pens, so to speak. Their last columns ran last week. This week in my column I want to thank them. Saying farewell to friends is hard to do.
Annette's wit, recipes and cooking commentary graced our pages for the past few years in her popular Plymouth cooks column. She always wrote with a sprightly pen, and you could feel a pixy-ness in her voice. I read every word of every column - not because I was her editor; I wasn't until last fall. But because I enjoyed her writing and felt comfort in what she had to say. Thanks, Annette, for bringing your cheerfulness and unending stories into my life.
Richmond went beyond his Good eating column for the past few years, writing Here and there, an insightful look around town and at the world. But it's his food writing that we most remember him for, and it's the man behind the long-running column that I salute here.
What does one say about a great guy with a terrific gift for words? That he is a good writer and photographer is accurate but misses the mark. That he entertained us week in and week out is perhaps more appropriate. I think he'd like to hear that said of him. I hope he puts out a book of his columns. It would sell well.
Instead of my going on about Richmond, I think I'll simply let Richmond speak for himself. You can come up with quotable lines from any of his columns. Here's some from columns he wrote during my tenure with the paper. I picked columns at random from 2000 on and pulled a winner from each one. Here's just a few, as space allows.
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"I think of sardines as a guy thing. Do women eat them? My wife and daughters don't, so a can of sardines is, for me, a solitary pleasure. It's something to open up when I'm hungry, and there's nothing in the refrigerator but low-fat yogurt."
"On the Fourth of July it's better to eat potato salad and believe the past was glorious. The rules of ethics have changed over the years, and we've never been a nation of saints by any standard, but we weren't a nation of blackguards either. There's plenty to celebrate and the past got us where we are."
"The ocean of memory and the sea of forgetfulness are one. Facts I long for litter the bottom like the bones of drowned sailors, never to be seen again. It seems like my memory is bad. Was it ever good? I don't remember."
"If I had foreign guests - say a couple of French gourmets - I wouldn't want them to go home thinking America is the culinary wasteland they'd been led to believe it is. I sometimes fantasize about this. I'd get my wife, Annette to make chowder and bake them a pie. I'd put in a pot of baked beans. I'd get a good steak and cook it on the outdoor grill. I'd steam a lobster in seawater and get them some fried clams."
"According to the French, only Americans are barbarous enough to add lettuce to a bacon and tomato sandwich, so I ate mine without greenery this year."
"Karl Jung believed human psychology is full of archetypes - images that are common to humans as a species and dominate our behavior, our mythology and our dreams. If it's true, I bet one of them is the combined flavor of meat and smoke, which must go back to the domestication of fire."
"No one when he comes to die says, 'I wish I'd spent more time on business.' Giving full attention to the bite of the mustard, the crunch of the lettuce, and the juiciness of the beef is my idea of doing two or three things at once. We need the food and the time to enjoy it. We should insist on it. We should eat with people we like and as often as we can with people we love."
"I fry my bacon, watching it closely. Bacon remains raw-looking in the pan and then burns when you turn your back to get a paper towel to drain it on."
"August makes me nervous because there are so many wonderful foods it will soon be too late to eat. I have to taste sweet blackberries warmed by the sun. I have to check out the blueberries below the power lines, and if the wild ones aren't enough, I'll pay to pick the cultivated ones. I almost never get my fill of fresh corn.
The arc of the sun is getting shorter. Every night I watch it dip below the horizon further and further south. Soon I'll be back in front of the television and they'll be showing me happy people splashing on Florida beaches. Right now we have our own beaches. Pack the cooler and go."
"An excellent cocktail is an omen of things to come. Annette had a jasmine, which was made of gin, Campari, lemon juice, and Cointreau. I had something they call a phantasm, made with lemongrass infused vodka, lime juice, and falernum.
"I asked the bartender whether there's a commercial lemongrass vodka or they infuse their own. He said it's homemade, but easy. You just cut up some lemongrass and leave it to soak a few days until the vodka gets cloudy. I plan to experiment. I picture the drink as part of my summer entertainment. 'Would you care for a phantasm?' I'll say."
"Among us amateurs, one-upmanship may turn conviviality into egoism. Who has the finer olive oil, the more expertly roasted coffee, or the fresher fruit? Along with an exaltation of the rare and exotic may come a disdain for the more common pleasures of life, although serious eaters have secret vices. Among mine are Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and McDonald's sausage biscuits."
"When it comes to home repair, I'm a thumb-banger. I come from a long line of them. The only ancestors I know of who weren't thumb-bangers were like my grandfather Harry R. Talbot, who I believe never picked up a hammer in his life."
"We ought to admire single mothers who raise their families in a difficult world. We should offer a pat on the back to divorced fathers who pay their share and spend quality time with their kids. But the best thing you can do for your children is keep on loving their other parent. We should give such couples a great big round of applause."
Maybe Richmond should publish a calendar, the one-day-at-a-time kind with memorable quotes from his writings. The kind where we tear off each day and keep the good ones. We'd have quite a pile after a while.
Thanks, Richmond. Safe voyage.

Aug 1, 2007

"Los Angeles" a random poem

I can see so clearly now
So clear, it stings my eyes
I wonder who I was
Who was I meant to be
For you
To you
Who am I to you
Who pierced my heart
With your piercing eyes
Who are you
Who are you, my muse
Whisper to me
Call my name
I want to hear you
Remember you
Remember why
Why I came here in the first place
Lost lonely landscapes of television skies
Palm trees line concrete streets
With glistening pools of chlorine
7th and Main the downtown bus
Waiting for you and me to board
Where are we going to
Where are we going now
I can see serenity here
So peaceful it closes my eyes
To Complacency
To Complaints
I wonder who I am
Who am I meant to be
In this place
In this space
I fly
To you
Fly away with you, you
Who pierced my heart
With your piercing blue eyes
Where are you
Where are you, my muse
Whisper to me
Call my name
I want to hear you
Remember you
Remember why I came
here, Los Angeles of the lost
Lost lonely soundscapes of television skies
Palm tree lined streets at night
With shimmering pools of chlorine
On the corner, 7th and Main the downtown bus
Waiting for you and me to board
Let's get on board, Los Angeles
Let's do something big and huge
Let's do something, Los Angeles
Let's do something, Hollywood
Don't you wish that we would
Don't you wish that I could
Complacency, remember me
Whisper to me
Call my name
I need to hear you
My muse, Los Angeles
With your long golden hair
Your fashion magazine
And all your cares wrapped up in eye cream
Call to me
Whisper my name
Hear me call to you
When I need you to wake up, Los Angeles
Wake up
Under shady trees
A hot summer breeze
Shake up
Your day to day
Wake up from your daze
Remember who you are
Why you came here
Remember what you set out to be
Don't let life erase your life
Live, breathe, dream,  believe
Live, breathe, dream big
Live, breathe, dream, believe
Live, breathe, dream big, Los Angeles
Los Angeles, I'm waiting
For you
But I know you're not waiting for me
Wake up!

Jul 26, 2007

8 Extraordinary Things About Moi!

"These are 8 extraordinary things about me, then eight people are tagged to write 8 things about themselves. I'm sorry if I pick you.....don't be mad, it's all in good fun!" (Thx to Siobhan!)

1. I read Tarot cards frighteningly well. As a result, I don't read them too often!

2. I find four leaf clovers everywhere all the time. In fact, most people don't believe it until they've witnessed it. Non-believers claim it's just good eyesight, though.

3. I'm extremely empathic. Sometimes it bugs me, because I don't always want to be a giant sponge for other people's feelings.

4. I'm a lucid dreamer. When I become lucid, I tend to ditch whatever dream I'm in, so I can fly. I love flying in my dreams!

5. I'm a Dr. Doolittle.

6. I'm really good at most things artistic (to the point where I've been paid for all kinds of gigs, like drawing, photography, graphic design, jewelrey making, web design, etc.).

7. I have a photographic memory.

8. I'm center-brained.

Jul 21, 2007

Why is masturbation so taboo?

I mean, aside from the obvious religious implication and such  (ie. "Every sperm is sacred..."), why do we shun masturbation when it's really one of the best gifts we can give ourselves?

Feeling stressed? Masturbate!

Feeling depressed? Masturbate!

It's like a wonder rememdy. I don't feel like getting into the science behind it, but we've all heard or know that orgasms release some kind of endorphins or something that send these "feel good" messages to the brain and then we, voila! Feel good!

And what could possibly be more important in life other than to feel good? No, really. Think about it.

We may have jobs, kids, responsibilities, etc. but at the end of the day (or beginning) all we really want is to feel good, don't we?

And what better way to make yourself feel good than masturbation?

I used to get wicked jealous of my husband for masturbating to porn. It made me feel somehow inferior to the women in the magazines, but what I realize now is that it was just lack of imagiation on his part (no offense, honey). I don't need magazines (when Bill Pardy will do -- how'd that get in there? lol Seriously tho...), but why blame him for needing them? I mean, just because I can create some big strange fantasy about being some Greek Goddess or Egytian Princess getting it on with a God doesn't mean everyone can (or would want to). In other words, we all get our rocks off different ways... We are all individuals... Why blame someone for getting their rocks off differently (as long as "differently" doesn't mean anything harmful or illegal, y'know)?

As a writer, I need to "get my rocks off" (I honestly do not know where I got that expression, but I like it so I'm sticking with it), but if I'm writing every day and, um, my husband is off in Colorado working on a film, well, what am I suppose to do, right? Masturbation!

But then guilt creeps in and all those moments someone said something like "Ew, gross, you do that?" or "That's wrong" and all of a sudden I feel blocked. And then, well, then I end up not writing, which really bugs me. I want to be unstoppable like James Gunn, but being unstoppable means you gotta start in the first place!

Damn, I'm on a rant... Don't want to get too tangential...

The point is why the big deal? Why is it taboo to talk about masturbating? Why does it have to be a "dirty little secret?"

Eating isn't. Drinking isn't. Finding shelter from a storm or going to sleep when you're tired isn't taboo.

Isn't sex, or, more importantly orgasm, just one more thing we humans NEED.

Nourishment, shelter, sleep, & sex.

Aren't those our basic needs without which we could not survive?

I suppose a gaggle of nuns or priests might say icks-nay on the ex-say, but come on! Perhaps sex with someone else, but don't we all need the release of sexual gratification even if it is  just with our hands (or whatever you use)?

How many popular songs have been about it?

She Bop - Cyndi Lauper
Dancing with Myself - Billy Idol
Touch Myself - DiVinyls (I think??)
Whip It - Devo

These are just off the top of my head... I'm sure there are many more. Oh!

Me and My Hand - Pink (or whatever that song is called)

I think you get my point... People have sung about it, written about it (Joe Matt)... It's obvious we need it, so why keep it taboo? Why not just be totally open and upfront about it?

Is it because what may get our rocks off isn't what we want people to think does? Maybe, but who cares what your private fantasy is... Most of our daily choices seem to stem from the same place... Why do I love Serenity so much? Why did I love Star Wars so much when I was younger? They get my rocks off. Maybe not in the same exact way as masturbation (that could be embarrassing and messy), but still, the point is, something gets my heart racing, something uplifts me, brings me to a higher level...

Hey, maybe masturbation could be looked at like prayer...

Wow. A whole bunch of strange thoughts just flooded my brain with that one sentence, one of them being my very Catholic grandmother -- my only grandparent still living -- whacking me over the head with rosaries, but, hopefully, you get my point.

Prayer is a solitary thing we do at night if we are at all even remotely spiritual (and sometimes even when we're not). It makes us feel better. It helps us focus on what's most important. It channels our positive energy.

So, why not masturbation? It pretty much does the same thing only it feels a heck of a lot better, imho.

Well, enough chatter... I got some professional writing to do,but first I gotta get my rocks off.

Jul 20, 2007

"Come Away with Me"

Sometimes I wonder…
What's it all about?
And I can't hardly conceive,
Why I should even get out of bed…

Then there are days…
When the pool calls my name…
And I can see all the beauty…
In the world around me.

Why the mood swings?
Why the pendulum?
Why the back and forth?
What color is your mood ring?

Blue. I see right past you.
I see into me…
I see the blue sea…
A sea of sadness drowning me.

Throw me a lifeboat…
What's it all about?
And I can't hardly conceive…
What you mean to me.

Then there are days…
I kick my feet, swing so high!
Loving life, all passersby,
Not afraid of you and I.

Sometimes I wonder…
I see into me…
I see the blue sea…
What color your mood ring be?   

Blue. I see right through you…
And into me…
Sail away on the blue sea…
Come you with me!

On the blue sea…
On the blue sea…
Come away with me.
On the blue sea…
On the blue sea…
Come away with me.

Sometimes I wonder…
What's it all about?
I kick my feet, swing so high!
Lovin' every minute of you and I.

Jul 14, 2007

Remembering Vera...

This blog has been the hardest one I have ever tried to write. The one you are reading is its fourth incarnation. I'm having difficulty with words... I have pictures and cards that I have scanned and would like to share with you, but I really wanted to use words!

I think part of my problem is too much negativity still swirling around my heart from a somewhat unpleasant people...

I could write 10 pages just venting but I really don't want to do that. I want to focus on the positive. Of course, at the heart of the matter is my grandmother's passing. Where's the positive in that? She's in a better place, I know that in my heart, but I miss her. I have missed her for 20 years.

See, 20 years ago when I was 13 my Grandmother had an aneurysm.

She didn't die, but she lost her mind. She didn't recognize me, her only granddaughter. Something inside me shut off that day and did not return until we spread her ashes...

I want to write more. I want to paint a picture of who she was so you can see why I loved her so much. I want to sing her song.

She was so full of life. She knew so much about the world around her...

See, my folks divorced when I was 11 and my Mum moved out. I stayed with my Dad, but my Gramma, my Mum's Mum, was only a small cornfield away.

I loved running through the tall stalks to her house. I'd pretend the field was an ocean with waves of corn. She indulged my childhood imagination... Upon popping out of the field, I might find her hanging clothes to dry out back... Long white sheets I'd twirl between... We'd both giggle.

She had strawberries, blueberries, asparagus, and rhubarb all growing in her yard... She'd make strawberry rhubarb pie and it tasted like Heaven, especially with a dollop of real vanilla ice cream. Mmmm...

She used to pick buttercups and hold them under my chin, laugh and say, "You must really love butter!" When I'd ask her how she knew, she'd explain it was because of how much the yellow from the flower reflected off my chin.

Sometimes she'd tell me stories as we walked through the yard about the fairies who lived in the moss and how they'd gather under mushrooms on rainy days... Giant umbrellas protecting their translucent wings from the storm overhead.

There were nymphs of some sort who lived in the trees and when the wind whipped them about on chilly Autumn days, she'd say, "Listen... Listen to the trees. What do you hear?" I heard all sorts of strange noises... She said the nymphs were in the trees playing with their recent acquisitions... And what were those? Everything you ever thought you lost... Old keys, a sock, a tin pan, a hat... These were things the nymphs collected and would play with on those windy days creating atonal symphonies.

She said that cats were painted by angels and that Tortoise shell and Calicos were extra special because the angels would use all their different paints and splatter them on... Angel paintings for humans...

She made the world so magical. I miss her so much.

She'd take me on long walks "down the lane" to this small pond and giant rock. She told me that Indian spirits dwelled there and I could feel them. I'd climb up onto the rock and lay my head down listening to the quiet of the woods and feeling the sun's warmth radiate up from the rock.

She saw so much more than most folk in the simplicity of life.

She taught me how to read, write, and do basic math before I even went to kindergarten. We'd play Parcheesi or dolls... She'd help me make new clothes for my Barbie's.

She indulged my creative side. She fed my soul. I remember writing my first story ever... About a fawn... Sort of like Bambi only not sad.

She knew the names of all the flowers and trees and birds... We'd nosh on Checker Berries and chew on Sassafras leaves.

She taught me the songs of the birds, all of which she knew by heart. We'd be inside and if she heard a Whippoorwill, she'd call me to the window to see...

Where do these memories go when a person dies? I don't recall all these little details she knew about nature like instinct. I miss her mind. I miss her magic. I miss her creativity.

Vera is my soul and I'm a lost 13 year old looking for home.

Won't you come back tomorrow
Won't you come back tomorrow
Won't you come back tomorrow
Can I sleep tonight

Outside, somebody's outside
Somebody's knocking at the door
There's a black car parked at the side of the road
Don't go to the door
Don't go to the door
I'm going out
I'm going outside, mother
I'm going out there

Won't you be back tomorrow
Won't you be back tomorrow
Will you be back tomorrow

Who broke the window
Who broke down the door
Who tore the curtain
And who was it for
Who heals the wounds
Who heals the scars
Open the door
Open the door

Won't you come back tomorrow
Won't you be back tomorrow
Will you be back tomorrow
Can I sleep tonight

'Cause I want you, I want you
I really want you, I want
I want you to be back tomorrow
I want you to be back tomorrow
Won't you be back tomorrow
Won't you be back tomorrow
Won't you be back tomorrow
Will you be back tomorrow

Open up, open up to the love of God
To the love of He who made the blind to see
He's coming back
He's coming back
I believe Him
Jesus is coming
I'm gonna be there
I'm gonna be there, mother
I'm gonna be there, mother
I'm gonna be there
And you're gonna be there

Jun 23, 2007

Greetings from Cape Cod Massachusetts!

As I type this, I sit at my Step-Dad's home office computer in Plymouth, MA -- where that famous rock is, doncha know -- and ponder my strange vacation thus far...
I arrived on Father's day after a long, sleepy journey filled with iPod viewing of White Noise: The Light (my fifth viewing so far, lol) and, as previously mentioned, some eye-candy in first class.
Ok, since I know you are all dying to know...
As I boarded the plane, I surveyed the first class section as I oft do with visions of producers in my head flying me somewhere in that spacious front section when mine eyes did spy a young looking fellow with old baseball cap pulled way down hiding his face and what apppeared to be regular joe college boy clothes... I was wearing striped legwarmers, which caught his attention, because as I walked by him I saw him look at my legs and then up to my face. BAM! My mind screamed, "Holy Cuteness, Batman, that's Cyclops!" (otherwise known as James Marsden, lol)... I was BLOWN away. That man's face is purrfect! But I instantaneously put on my poker face and we each looked away...
Fast forward to deboarding... I stood waiting (im)patiently to get (the hell) off  and let my eyes wander... When all of a sudden I realized he was turned around and staring at me! So, well, I stared back! There was an awkward moment no more than a second (seemed eternity), then I just shot him my best smile and he did the cutest thing ever! He made this like shy like no-teeth smile and kind of nodded his head, but then turned back around because first class began moving.
It was an, um, interesting moment.
Well, so, that's the Marsden encounter...
More to come later... I regret to inform that my next blog will be somewhat sad in nature because shortly after returning home I received bad news about my Grandmother on my Mum's side. (Long story and the family is scurrying about packing the car for our annual week-long holiday in North Truro/Provincetown at Day's Cottages on the Bay side... While I, ah, write a blog. Haha.)
Until next time... Love, Peace, & Chickengrease!

Jun 17, 2007

James Marsden was on my flight & I can hear crickets!

Just got settled at my dad's in Massachusetts. Had an unexpected treat in the first class section... Mmm Mr. Marsden you are just too cute for words!

Well, I was gonna write more but I got interupted and now I'm so exhausted I'm practically in tears! ('Course, that'll happen when you don't sleep for 2 days!)

K, see y'all on the flip side!

Jun 15, 2007

A Q&A with Joe Matt & the Gunner

Jeremy delighted me with a trip to Skylights Books for a Q&A with Joe Matt & James Gunn. It was great seeing James again, as I hadn't seen him for a billion years and it was especially great to see his lovely wife out and about! (She is a sweetheart!)

The actual setting was nice and informal. A couple rows of folding chairs filled with folks overflowing to standing room only. Nice turn out! James acted as MC, so to speak, and asked some funny, smart questions to help Joe open up. I found myself fascinated by Joe Matt. Such an intriguing fella!

Afterwards I decided to stick around and wait in line to get my book signed... Upon recommendation by James, not only did I pick up Spent, but also The Poor Bastard. (Afterwards Jenna recommended Peepshow, so I'll have to get that next.)

It was really fun and casual and cool... I felt a kindred spirit in Joe Matt, which may sound odd, but I did. I think I approach my writing similarly...

Anyhoo! Picture time! (All camera phone low quality... I was unprepared for photo ops, lol.)

Is that not awesome? Joe Matt, you have a new fan thanks to James, Jenna, & Jeremy! (Oh, that's wicked weird, dude... Joe, James, Jenna, & Jeremy??? Alliterationationation!)

And last but not least, I had to get crazy with the Platypus!

Phew! What a fun night! Now off to fix Floppy & post Episode 2 (after taking a new MySpace profile pic for a friend, lol, vanity is thy name).

I have ANOTHER cyst & Dance Crazy Dance video

So, I had another doctor's appointment yesterday as a follow up to see if the complex cyst in my right ovary is going away. The good news is: the cyst in my right ovary is gone. The bad news is: I have one in my left ovary now. Had an ultrasound today that showed it... 2mm. At least it's half the size of the other one, but still... wtf? Why does my body keep doing this? I'm on my fourth cyst. Ugh.

See, here's how it works in the simplest terms: Every month when an egg is produced so are follicles. These follicles are "functional cysts" (I think) in that they are normal and shed with everything else during the menstrual cycle. However, sometimes it doesn't all run smoothly and either a simple or complex cyst can form in there instead.

Did I mention I'm on my fourth? So, that's been 2 simple and 2 complex. This one should pass easier than the last, but still... It hurts like fucking hell. So, you know, if you feel so inclined, a little positive healing energy in your prayers would be most welcome!

Western medicine can only do so much and I refuse to pop more pills. (There are better ways to heal and manage pain like acupuncture and herbs, so that's the route I'm taking next... Course I'll still go to my doc cause I'm waiting on lab results...)

So, yeah, not a wicked happy camper here, but remaining positive, I am!

And now here is Jeremy, ahem, "dancing."

Dance Crazy Dance

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Jun 13, 2007

Shiny new action figure Mal, scary laundry pile, & Mel takes a Holiday

Just FYI, I don't usually refer to myself in the third person, but it seemed fitting for the flow of the subject line.

K, so, what next? Well, I decided to just really be a Full Blown Browncoat and get myself an action figure of Captain Malcolm "Mal" Reynolds.

Yes, I am an uber dork and proud of it, as you shall see below...

I couldn't decide which pic I liked better...

And while I'm at it... Here's the scary laundry pile aka the bane of my existence...

Even my cat looks at it with disdain.

I'm buggin' over traveling. It's so weird. I *love* visiting new places, meeting new people, experiencing all sorts of newness, but when it comes to flying, just leave me alone. I do not like airports, security, lines, waiting, lugging luggage around with me, blah blah blah. Ugh. Airports. HATE THEM!


*deep breath*

Ok, so, yeah, at least after soaring through the air in a tube glued to my iPod I get to see my folks and Cape Cod. I love Cape Cod, I love Martha's Vineyard, P-Town, oh, just take me to the beach already! I wanna watch the sunset over Race Point pronto! *snap snap*

So, yeah, that part'll be good... Just gotta wade through the murky bog of laundry, packing, airport, airplane, airport again, and unpacking before I can really kick back and RELAX. (Don't do it when you wanna... What? Sorry, got possessed by Frankie Goes to Hollywood for a sec. Pay no mind...)

See, now, great I've got that song stuck in my head now. Great.

So, yeah, anyhoo, I shall be gone for 3 weeks during which time I will not be online much, if at all, thus, therefore, hence, and so forth I'll catch ya on the flip side.


I'll be back later with a fun video of Jeremy dancing... YOU have to see this before I disappear into the void of vacation for a spell... Gimmie a few hours though.

PS: Yes, I did draw a new episode of Floppy and it is scanned but I am unhappy with how Floppy turned out so I'm going to tweak him in PhotoShop prior to posting... So stay tuned! (Just 4 or 8 loads of laundry first...)

Jun 8, 2007

The Satan Cat video & I stab Jeremy with a Sword

There is a video of a cat in a cage at some sort of vet clinic or animal shelter that is circulating called, Satan Cat."

The person who posted it, adds this disclaimer:

"For all those rude people out there who have nothing better to do other than send me aggressive and offensive emails that call me every name under the sun, I'd appreciate some kind of maturity and common ground of politeness. This is not my cat, I don't know who's it is. I didn't film it, I don't know who did. It is simply a cat in a standard cage in a veterinary clinic, not an example of animal cruelty. Get a grip all those people out there who need to be abusive just to feel better about themselves."

Now, this chick is all aggro because she feels she has the right to share this found footage for whatever reason.

Some agree. Some disagree.

I have conflicting thoughts.

My egghead rational self says, well, yeah, it's not like she filmed it, but -- see there's always a but -- does that matter? She's the one propagating the footage on the internet.

She admits to not knowing who created it, but that's almost worse because that means she has no proof that this cat was actually unharmed.

Even though the cat appears to be in a vet clinic, the fact that someone filmed, uploaded, and shared this video, well, that's the truly disturbing part. Why do we want to see footage of an obviously terrified creature in a cage?

I have rescued 15 cats since I moved to LA.

It breaks down like this:

1. Lucy, SH tortoise shell, rescued from SPCA
2. Comet, SH white, rescued from film location/pet store (ok, it was a pet store, but I still count that as a rescue!)
3. Zoe, LH gray tabby, showed up on back porch as kitten
4. Tiki, SH gray tabby, delivered to porch by Bast (a cat)
5. Satchel, SH black,  ditto
6, 7, 8, 9. Larry, Moe, Curly, & Shemp, DSH tuxedos (first 3), DSH orange (Shemp), ditto but this time because mother cat died
10. Bast, DSH gray tabby, rescue, long story!
11, 12. Alexander & Pharaoh, SH blue-gray & SH silver tabby, respectively, kittens found in back alley
13, 14. Daniel "Dublin" McCoy & Boxer "Belfast" McQueen, SH orange tabbys, ditto
15. Julius, SH orange & white, abandoned pet
16. Mae, SH tuxedo, abandoned pet
17. Sophie, SH tortoise shell, abandoned pet

Twelve of those cats currently reside with me (and my husband, so, no I'm not the crazy cat lady shut up), one is in the process of being introduced to the new colony, two died as kittens, one we found a home for, and the other one escaped the day we brought him home from the vet never to be seen or heard from again.

That broke my heart.

He was Boxer "Belfast" McQueen, twin brother of Daniel "Dublin" McCoy (Who's a good boy? I always say that little rhyme to him, he loves it, gets all roley-poley).

Here they are as babies when I first saw them:

Boxer was one tough cookie. He tore up my hands to a bloody mess, poor little guy, because he was terrified when I caught him and brought him to the vet to get a snap test and get snipped.

I imagine he would have looked exactly like the Satan Cat while he was at the vet.

In fact, Satan Cat looks an awful like an older Boxer. How would I know? I still have his brother, Dublin, who, while they were similar in many ways, had smaller eyes and less vibrant color.

Boxer had the big round eyes and vivid orange fur, like Satan Cat.

Here's Dublin now.

And here's a link to the cat video: MySpace Satan Cat

So, yeah, I lost my steam (had a little spasm in my side just now that was rather unpleasant), so I'm gonna sign off simply asking, what do you think? Is it wrong for someone to post found footage of a terrified animal in a cage? What does it prove? What's the point? Is it funny? Not to me, I find it disturbing and not in a good, Slithery fun way either, but maybe I'm a tad biased.

What would you do with such footage if you found it? Would you upload it to your MySpace page to proudly display? If so, why?

I'm just curious. *shrug*


PS: I really don't feel like editing this, so, sorry if I have typos... I'm pooped. Oh, and if you were disturbed by that video, you can watch a silly one I uploaded a few days ago of us playing with the cats (and me stabbing Jeremy with a sword) to clean your palate.

Ninja Kat

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Jun 5, 2007

Need to vent about Judge Judy dissing education!

She's on the tv in the background, by accident, and I just overheard her tell a young female STUDENT to "get a job."

Excuse me?

YOU are a JUDGE! Do not tell young women with children (and free lodging & childcare) to drop out of school and get a job!!!!


Have we not evolved beyond such stupid advice? Education is EVERYTHING these days. Just try getting a job without it!

Stupid Judge. Totally out of touch with the cold harsh reality of life as she cashes her checks at the bank.

"What people do when they have babies is get a job."

She just said that.

I'm peeved. SO peeved. She really should NOT be saying such things on national television!

PS: She just said -- to the young woman -- that there are better ways of showing her affections than by having a baby (so, what she should have an abortion? give it up for adoption? hand it over to Angie?)  WHAT?!?!? Judge Judy needs to be OFF the air NOW! She is poisoning the minds of the fools her watch her show! We will have a nation of ignorant youths with crappy jobs and no education just believing every darn stupid word they hear on TV (including Paris' tragic jail tale, 'cause who cares about soldiers dying and stuff, right?). Oh, yeah, I love America right now. (Considering cashing in on my Canadian ancestry... My grandpa was born & bred in Canada, can I cash in? I'm serious.)

PPS: Just flipped to Republican debate. I don't know which is worse.

PPPS: Mitt Romney, "I fought for Life." Isn't that a contradiction of terms? Yo, Mitt, check this out: A real BDH

Jun 1, 2007

Why is it...?, Working on a new Song, & the Adventures Begin!

I've been kicking back a bit after a bout of trouble and pain and I'm not really feeling the energy to write much, but my mind won't rest until I jot down a word or two every day whether it's high art or blogging, hence, ergo, and so on...

I've been ponderin' something... Why is it that via the internet I oft find more like-minded souls from other places like Canada, England, Ireland, Scotland, New Zealand, & Australia than from America? Don't get me wrong, most of my best friends are American since I am born & bred, but ONLINE when all I have to go is a person's words (and images, musical tastes, etc., but still mostly just words!), I tend to relate more to strangers from other countries than strangers from America. Why?

Oh, also I am working on a new song parody... It's not ready for public consumption yet (needs tweaking), but it's based on the song "Dedicated Follower of Fashion" by the Kinks. Jeremy seems to think that song too obscure for a parody, but if you've heard the song and know the real lyrics, man, I think it's just perfect! That and I'm really kind of getting a kick out of writing song parodies... I've always been a fan of comedians and their parodies, so why not me?

Oh, and, uh...

Floppy Colon wasn't sure what to do. The egg had been released but not hatched. Such a strange event, were it to last, would not be good news for ol' Floppy. Floppy had worked a lot of long years dealing with lactose intolerance and a vegetarian diet... Floppy wasn't ready for an attack, especially an Attack of the Killer Ovaries!!!

Killer Ovary: They call me Righty. Lefty will be here directly.
Floppy: But what do you want?
Killer Ovary: Um. Brains! Wait, no... To feel your pain!
Floppy: Oh. Well, that isn't very nice.
Killer Ovary: Nobody ever said Complex Cyst Ovaries were nice!
Floppy: Um. What?
Killer Ovary: Look! Over there!
(turning): Where?
Killer Ovary
(pulling out katana): Ah ha!
Floppy: Oh, sh...

PS: Boston College is neither in Boston nor is it a College. Discuss. (a penny if you get it --ya ya whatever hun, so I can't spell OR type, lot's of successful writers can't do either, too, either, whatever!)

May 25, 2007

Star Wars, I am Mel's floppy colon, & have you ever been stabbed by a sword?

When I was knee-high to a grasshopper, my folks took me to see The Empire Strikes Back in the theatre. I had seen Star Wars: A New Hope on TV and at the Wellfleet Drive-In (the home of the very first movie I ever saw: Jaws) and I had fallen in love with both Luke and Han, wanted to be Princess Leia, had nightmares about Darth Vader, and generally believed the whole story to be actual fact, not just entertainment... Heck, to this very day, I believe in The Force and Jedis more than I do God and Jesus.

Star Wars did not just change my life, it shaped it, guided it, showed me a different path.

George Lucas is the reason why I am in LA. He is the reason I studied film in college. He is the reason I did not give up. The reason why I knocked on every door until someone said yes. He's my inspiration as a screenwriter, as a filmmaker, as a human being.

"It is better to give than receive," George Lucas prior to giving Scorsese his Academy Award.

So, here I am in LA... I had a meeting today, but had to reschedule. Attack of the killer ovaries. See, a little over a year ago I started getting pain in my side that escalated into what I imagine being stabbed by a sword feels like (cue shot from Excalibur where naked Lancelot pulls the sword out of his side. Now imagine that sword being twisted as it's pulled out, then shoved back in, then wiggled around a bit. Now you get the pain in my side.)

Three cysts, several doctors, many pain killers that hurt my stomach, and one surgery later, I am no closer to less pain than when I started.

During the surgery they removed my appendix, y'know, just in case... (The pathology came back free & clear.) They found a bunch of fluid around one ovary and a complex cyst in the other. They also discovered that I have, and I quote, a "floppy colon." Um. What? The doc suggested I eat more fiber and have Omega-3 (I'm a veg, so I don't eat fish... Makes sense I'd be low on that, but still... Floppy colon?!?).

Anyway... So, here I sit, having missed my meeting due to pain, rescheduled for tomorrow and all the while almost right down the street is the celebration of all celebrations -- the filmmaker who is the sole reason I am even here -- and I'm gonna miss it.

I'm kinda bummed, but, then again, C'est la vie, right?

where does it go? (spontaneous poem)

where does all this sadness come from?
where does it go?
like waves washing over me,
cool cool waves of sticky salt water...
rolling me, tugging me, pulling me
and the thunder rages overhead
the storm clouds they gather
collide and burst rain
rolling sounds again and again...
where does all this joy come from?
where does it go?
like cool air on my face,
fresh breath and the taste
of a snowflake on your tongue...
everyday is a different mood
every character
nod and tap and toss and swirl
dance to the beat inside your mind
beethoven beckons
write the words you meant
write the words you mean
write the words
in your heart
shakespeare sighs
write the words you see
write the words clearly
write the words
in your heart
where does all this love come from?
where does it go?
when the night comes
and the stars shine bright
rays of light
Heaven sent
where does all this pain come from?
where does it go?
rays of light
where does all this inspiration come from?
where does it go?
heaven sent
where does all this passion come from?
in your heart
where does it go?

May 22, 2007

Banning yourself from OP's MySpace Pages, Joel Schumacher, & my Keifer Sutherland priceless ad

Ever feel the need to ban yourself from even remotely viewing someone else's MySpace page, be it *just* his/her page and/or blog?

If you are anything like me, the answer is a mighty YES! (Or defiant YAWP, if you prefer.) <-- cookie for whoever gets that reference.

Anyhoo... So, yeah, I was perusing my bulletins then spent MORE than a full hour viewing silly cat images.

Mike, I ban myself from your page!

(I'm not even gonna touch NF's with a ten foot pole. I ban myself for 24 hours, at the very least!)

K, what else? Ho hum... I've got 24 on in the background. My darling husband (read: ball & chain, haha, jk, hun... Or am I? *dun dun dun*), gaffed a portion of the show, and, like, omg, it's, like, totally, the Season Finale, how freaken cool is that? <-- See, that's me geeking out right there. Not too pretty, huh?

(In case you're wondering, ALL the scenes in the CTU are the ones he gaffed (e.g. close-ups of Chloe). Furthermore, in case you're wondering, a gaffer is the chief lighting technician, or CLT.)

So, back to, ahem, me.

I should really ban myself from MySpace for like 5 days. My friend did that, not really by choice, but I'm damn proud of him! MySpace is so darn addictive especially if you are an impatient writer craving to be read...


Patience. One of my final tests I've yet to conquer! Use the Force, Luke.

Oh, hey, speaking of patience....

Have you ever been to a movie premiere and NOT been on the list? Hello, wait from hell, how are ya!

See, a little while back a friend of mine invited me to a screening of Number 23. I went not so much for the film, as for the filmmaker, Joel Schumacher.

I heart Joel Schumacher. Seriously. The Lost Boys, man, I watched that one movie over and over again so many times I wore out at least 3 VHS tapes. (They always had 3 movies: The Lost Boys, The Princess Bride, and Stand By Me. I can quote any of them on cue.)

(Me & Keifer, 24 Wrap Party Season 2, I think)

So, yeah, we had to wait FORever to get into the theatre. Then once inside, we had *no* access to food or drink. Um, hello? Hi, we're human, too. K? Just makin' sure y'all out there in Hollywoodland remember where you came from, ok? Great. Now, fans of filmmakers either a.) become filmmakers and/or 2.) go see every darn movie that filmmaker makes so make sure you feed your fans, ok? Ok.

Now, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah... Mr. Schumacher (not that I blame him for no food! I'm certain he had a lot of other things on his mind, lol), he is so freaken cool. He gave a speech before the film and I was cracking up. Afterwards I was able to circumvent the fan wall and speak to him. (I caught his eye as we were each leaving and sort of waved to him... As he walked towards me I called out, "It was lovely!" Or some such nonsense, when I meant to say  I loved it, haha... It was "lovely" -- Number 23? Right, Mel, *pats own head*) He was wicked polite and we had a nice little chat. I wished I had thanked him for The Lost Boys, but maybe it was better I didn't... I dunno... Regardless, it was a damn cool experience!

Well, gotta run... Heroes is on. Stay tuned for a clip from one of my scripts (maybe, lol) oh, and, of course, airplane etiquette.

PS: For those partaking in the Nathan/Superhero discussion, what about this? I know it's not superhero, but still... I think Fillion would totally fit in a Harry Potter movie. Yay? Nay?

PPS: Of course I am still pushing hardcore for a Kevin Smith/Nathan Fillion project. That would be sweet.

May 17, 2007

Being a "fan," U2, Hollywood, Top 10 lists, & Kevin Smith

Being a fan is a strange thing, especially when you work within the industry.

I have A LOT of experience being a fan.

(Bono & Me, Boston, MA 1992)

In 1985, I discovered a band called U2 on MTV. In 1992, I found myself introduced to Bono in Boston, MA by a mutual friend. I had just turned 18 years old. Prior to meeting Bono, celebrities, rock stars, actors, they were all just images on TV, posters, magazine covers, and the big screen; not real people. Bono changed all that for me. However, he also inadvertently created a shiny new hardcore fan. I have seen U2 live and met the entire band, especially Bono, so many times now I have lost count. I know what it means to be a fan, and through Bono's eyes, I have seen what it is to be a celebrity.

Being a fan is a hell of a lot easier!

However, I do not take the easier road.

One major thing I learned from Bono is that while it is ok to follow, there will come a time you must lead. Dreams are only dreams until realized.

Years later, upon moving to Los Angeles to realize my own dreams, I met with a wall of resistance. This town will eat you up and spit you out faster than you can blink, if you let it.

Along the way I have met many folks who either have wanted to or did work in film but got out before (and sometimes after) success because they could not handle the lifestyle. From the outside in, this life looks so glamorous, but it is not. It is hard work and takes years of knocking on doors and more rejection than anyone should ever endure in one lifetime. So why do people like me stay in it? Why do I keep on keeping despite it all? Yeah, so, I like the pretty dresses, big award shows, and fancy parties, but what I really like is meeting and working with like-minded souls who want to enlighten, inspire, and entertain via film. I want to make a difference, create worlds, Move Mountains and dream so loud the whole world hears me!

(Me & Dave --wearing a shirt I designed, Glendale, AZ 2005)

Not everyone who works in movies is a fan of movies.  Many folk on set do not want to talk about being on set when they are at home or at a shindig. Most folks want to talk about their lives outside of work. See, my husband and me, our work is our life! We eat, breathe, and sleep movies. He creates light, I tell stories. We speak movie. "What's your 20?" "10-100." "Copy that." "Surf Nicaragua." "The dude abides." "May the Force be with you." "Death by Stereo." "Aloha, Mr. Hand." "Wyatt, your kitchen is blue."

I seem to have drifted slightly off point… When it comes to music, I am a full-blown fan. I need a constant musical score. My iPod is my soundtrack (and when I am on my computer, LastFM is). When it comes to movies, I am a fan, but I am also a screenwriter. See, therein lies the rub… In order to work within the industry, you need to maintain a certain level of distance from that whole media-celebrity-fame thing because it is not real.  Most times the concept of "fan" is directly linked to existing on the "other side" of some imaginary line between an "us" and "them," as if one group is somehow better or something. Perhaps the distance creates protection from the crazies… I do not know… Nevertheless, it can be awful awkward when you find yourself in the backseat of a car chatting with A.C. Lyles drooling over the Iambic Pentameter in Deadwood and asking when there will be more. (I tried so hard to be cool, but in the end I "geeked" out. Is that ok? Some seem to say no, but others tend to think that I should just be myself – my crazy over excited eager puppy self. Hmmm… I just do not know. I am not a Jedi Master…Yet.)

(Me in nouveau 3D glasses -- the ultimate geek girl accessory!)

Wax on, wax off. Waxing philosophical… One journey has ended, another just begun, and all I can think is, girls just wanna have fun! (They just wanna, they just wanna!)

Speaking of fun… I was thinking about my Top Ten all time favorite films (because my Mum and I are List Maniacs) and she sent me hers, but I have yet to send mine… I am having a terrible time narrowing it down!

See, what I do is I compartmentalize movies in my head. For some inane reason I cannot just list out 10 flicks and say that is that. It is like, ok, one of my all time favorite movies is Star Wars, but another one is The Lost Boys – two vastly different films! I love La Dolce Vita and Casablanca, but I cannot watch them as often as The Princess Bride or Serenity. There are just so many movies out there that I love on so many different levels. Space Balls. Ice Pirates. Labyrinth. Time Bandits. Twelve Monkeys. Brazil. The Matrix. Blade Runner. Total Recall. Taxi Driver. Fanny & Alexander. Jaws. Close Encounters. ET. Stand By Me. Pulp Fiction. SLiTHER, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Pump Up the Volume. River's Edge. Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. Ferris Bueller's Day Off. This is Spinal Tap. LOTR. Vampires – ANYTHING with vampires. The Breakfast Club. Heathers. Dogma.

Oh! Here is a perfect example of The Adventures of Fan Girl in Hollywood: Kevin Smith, writer, director, actor, god. He made Dogma, one of my ALL TIME favorite movies EVER. Jeremy, my husband, first worked on Chasing Amy. Later he gaffed Clerks 2. As a result, I was invited to the Clerks 2 kick-off party at Kevin's house (no, I will not tell you where it is, so don't bother asking).

Begin Flashback:

So, ok, picture this, you are in your 20's working at a video store whilst majoring in Film, dreaming being a big Hollywood something-or-other, and feeling a million miles away from it when a big cardboard box of Clerks videos lands on your desk for inventory. You open it up and there is a gift: a Clerks Hockey Jersey. Sweet! (Yes, I still have it, in case you are wondering… Along with all my other swag… I love movie paraphernalia… Clerks 2 hoodie, 24 coat, fleece, cap, hat, etc., Baseball Diaries tank, Undressed hat & scarf, and so on...) So, the gift catches your eye, as does the cover, black and white, video store clerk… Clerks… I could relate BIG TIME. I was Randal. Then I thought, "But wait… Who is this Kevin Smith guy anyway? If he can do it…" I think you see where I am going with this little flashback...

So, fast-forward to the party and little ole me climbing out of my Geo to go inside the awesome big house of one of my film heroes… I geeked out hardcore, but kept my cool (until I got drunk on Margarita's – Mr. Johnson, sir, I still need that footage!)… That night I met Gail, Kevin's Mother-in-Law and spent most of the evening just chatting with her… Before we left, she showed me her office, asked if I had any of Kevin's films on DVD, and when I told her, "No, VHS," she proceeded to hand me a stack of signed DVDs! I kept saying, "Oh, no, no, that's ok," and she kept handing me another... It  was too funny! A fan would go bonkers in Gail's closet alone! (Gail rocks!)

Fast forward some more and you'll find me in the front row of the Hollywood premiere of Clerks 2. As I sat there listening to Kevin give an opening speech, watching the cast & crew (friends of mine, no less!) support him, all I could think was, "Holy shit. Exactly 10 years ago I was unpacking tapes of Clerks to rent to customers in Massachusetts and now look where I am! Huh? How'd I get here!?!"

It was a truly awesome moment. I love this town...

Well, I've been up all night (again)... Think I'll go read Choke and then maybe get coffee in Larchmont later or something...

Next on The Adventures of fan Girl in Hollywood: meeting Joel Schumacher and how The Lost Boys is the penultimate movie.

May 14, 2007

Popping Nathan's Talk Show cherry, Bingo Wings, & the Curious George basement

So, I hadn't been able to blog about my es muy interesante experience last week on Thursday until now... (Why is unimportant, so let's just skip to the fun stuff...)

See, last Thursday was a very special day... It was May 10th, Bono's birthday. I like to do special things on his birthday. (I'm a dork. I know. Shut up.)

This year my special thing was attending a taping of The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson, but I wasn't going for him. Nor was I going for Roseanne Barr or Miranda what's-her-name country singer girl about the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (though that song does rock). Nah, I was going to see my latest celebrity crush... Nope, not a Rock Star... an actor... Nathan Fillion to be exact.

K, I full on blame my husband for this one. His cousin Wade lent us Firefly. Jeremy watched it, then bought Serenity then forced me to watch them all back 2 back. I instantly fell in love with Mal because I felt like, I dunno, like, holy crap, look, it's Han-fucking-Solo with his own crew doing his own thing, man, the correlations are far and wide (more so than I probably even realize!), but most of all just him, Mal, the Captain. Oh, Captain, my Captain! He instilled a sense of safety, security in me. I'd follow him into Serenity Valley! (Wow. I am a major geek!!!)

Sooo, yeah, I have these little fantasies of writing that wicked awesome script and, y'know, having my agent call his agent and if he liked it, and I had the power, casting him as my lead. That would be a dream come true! (If so, I'd definitely want to direct, too. Phew! I dream freaken big!)

So, yeah, because he sort of inspires me and all and since Jeremy got me hooked, I had to drag him to that taping....

It was a very bizarre experience. The only other talk show I've been to is the Jay Leno show ages ago, but that's so big it runs like a regular live show. Not Mr. Ferguson's Show... No... That's more like being a Seatfiller than an Audience member. You are, more or less, told when to clap and so on. It's like an unpaid extra gig but you don't even get to be on camera. (Heck, way back when, I at least had a feature moment on one of my "seatfiller" gigs on the Dick Clark New Year's Bash. That was killer. Pink & Bush played. It was like having a private party with these rockin' bands playing just for you and 50 of your closest strangers.)

K, back to Nathan... The audience was obviously inundated with Browncoats. We scared the bayjesus out of poor Craig who seemed to not know quite what to make of us aside from the fact that we were totally bonkers over Nathan Beatlemania-style. That was wicked. What a rush that's gotta be, to be merely a nearly famous actor (currently unemployed, I might add) and get the loudest damn applause The Craig Ferguson show had that night. Genuine laughter & applause, I might add! (All you browncoats in attendance will get my meaning, I think.)

So, yeah, I had a great view... At one point I felt like I caught  his eye so I chucked him the peace sign and then the British bird and he did like a weird look with a nod and sorta waved his hand a bit, like, yeah, yeah, I get it. (I made my husband go over the tape with me like 5 times to make sure I wasn't just hallucinating, lol.)

I didn't really realize until later that I had accidentally attended his first Talk Show appearance, so, in retrospect, that is wicked cool.

Before, during, and after The Show, this Chucky B dude warmed up the crowd and instructed us on what to do when and such. At one point he mentioned Craig would be doing a book signing at Barnes & Noble later that night and at another point he gave stuff out to audience members who did what he asked them to do, like sing a Britney Spears song, or Beatles tune, or recite Shakespeare. Yeah, that last one went to my husband... At first he seemed like he was gonna choke, but thing is, my boy's a genius yo, so not only did he recite some Shakespeare, but he recited the Bard's Scottish play in honor of Mr. Ferguson.

I don't think ANYONE got that. Oh well... Us geniuses live lonely lives... (teehee)

So, yeah, as I type this I am wearing a lovely men's size large t-shirt with the show's logo. Wicked sweet. (I tried to give it away, but my friend wouldn't let me.)

After that, we went to a sushi joint where I pretty much ate nothing and watched Jeremy eat dead, raw fish. Fun.

Next we headed over to Barnes & Noble to see if the signing was still going on... We missed the reading, but we were the second to last people to get a book signed. That was cool. I felt shy, but once Jeremy got talking with him, I was able to open up and compliment him on his Bingo Arms bit. (I don't know why, but that bit just slayed me!)

Anyhoo, here's that:

As we were leaving The Grove, Jeremy got a phone call that he could pick up his check, so we headed over to Universal to catch up with the production who were shooting in the Curious George basement... Weird, but whatever...

As we were waiting around, I was like totally zoning out. I've been on so many sets I just do that, zone, usually on crafty. (Like, mm, I wonder if they have Hershey's Minis and if so, do they have any Mr. Goodbars left? That sort of thing.) So, I'm zoning out, some dudes exit the set, walk right past, look right at me, and I completely miss it cause I'm, what? Zoning out, right. So, who'd I miss staring right at me? Tom fucking Sizemore, that's who. Oh well...

Thing is, I haven't even gotten to the kicker of the evening, yet!

That very night, at that very moment, one James Gunn was winning an award and doing interviews with one Nathan Fillion, whom I had just seen on the Late Late Show,  right over my head on the Universal Lot. So, this dude, Tod or Tom or something, yeah, he does some kind of effects... Well, he worked on SLiTHER and he was working on this gig (Stiletto) that both Jeremy & Mr. Sizemore were on, so all Tod/Tom/whoever had to do was walk upstairs!

How's that for coincidence?

A day like last Thursday is why I call this place Hollyweird.

Apr 30, 2007

For anyone interested, yes, I plan on blogging, erhm, soonish!

I've just been too busy to blog the way I like to blog. I'm a bit persnickety when it comes to blogging so I need to be able to give it my 110% attention and lately I've only had about 10% to devote to MySpace, of which 9% is mostly devoted to reading *other* folks' blogs!

I am going to try to blog soon, though, because I have a couple of things I'd like to blog that are of a timely nature (Waitress, Spiderman, & my new teeth!).

-Mel :o)

PS: Have a shiny weekend!

Apr 27, 2007

Good quote from Nathan Fillion about self-awareness

So, when you look at yourself in the mirror in the morning, say to yourself, "Today I will be more aware of my effect on the world around me. I will endeavor to treat people as I would want to be treated. My communication to those around me will accurately reflect my respect, care, and understanding." Then say, "Whoa, I better brush my teeth and shower- who wants to smell me coming a mile away? Best I scrub under these nails, too- lest I repel all in my wake."
-Nathan Fillion

Apr 19, 2007

Pain (poem)

the pain is overwhelming
it engulfs my brain
tweaks my thoughts
makes me pray for sleep
but sleep never comes
a raw nerve exposed
my knees buckle
i stumble
to the floor
for no more
the pain is overwhelming
it engulfs my brain
taints my thoughts
and fucks with my mind
i'm sick of it really
but i have no choice
i must endure
somehow blur
out the pain
make it go away

Feb 14, 2007

I totally talked to Joel Schumacher tonight!

A friend invited me to the LA premiere of Number 23... Man, the line to get in was WAY too long! Oh well... It ended up being a pretty cool evening. I enjoyed the film immensely! Then afterwards I lingered by the entrance as I watched Joel mingle... Then he turned to get into his limo. I thought, "Shit! I gotta do something to get his attention!" So, I just sort of stared at him until I made eye contact and then I shot him a huge grin and waved. (I'm such a dork!) Anyhoo, he stops, smiles, and starts walking up to me. He was so charming! Very polite and funny. I told him I thought the film was "lovely." Lovely?!? Can you imagine? Yes, that thriller I just saw with sex, death, and obsession, yeah, Joel, that was lovely. I'm a nut. So, he goes, "Lovely?" And gives me the craziest look. And I go, "I mean I loved it!" Haha, yeah, nice try. But he came over anyway, asked my name, and proceeded to tell me how much he respected my daring to smoke* outside the theater especially since the new MPAA thing about making films R-rated if they have anyone smoking in them. Crazy! Anyhoo, that was an interesting experience I doubt I'll ever forget. He was so humble and real and just centered. I would love to work for someone like him. Anyway, yeah, it was a cool night. My highlight had been simply watching Mr. Schumacher give his speech prior to the screening, but, nope, meeting him definitely far surpassed that! So, yeah, what was the movie about? I forget.

(*I'm not really a smoker but I will partake in social settings, ok, Family?)

Note: Blog rescued from dead MySpace account with silly name:

Jan 17, 2007

Necklace making is so soothing...

Here's my latest creation: wood beads with carnelian, amber, white gold, silver, and glass heart. I love it!