Rude Awakening

So I'm at the gym today on my elliptical pumping away, feeling energized, strong and (I'm not too ashamed to admit) a little smug. I'm 40, pushing hard and feeling good. Anyway, as I'm up there doing my thang, I look in the mirror at the front of the room and notice the faces of the women around me and it dawns on me they're all old. At least, I think they're all old because they look old to me because they're all haggard and worn out looking. So at first I'm thinking, "What the hell, am I in the old lady section? Am I on the whimpy machines?" Because I was feeling pretty good about myself. I didn't want to think I had to use the geriatric ellipticals to get a work-out. But then I look at the faces again and I realize they're all my contemporaries. They're all women who are probably in their 40's, just like me and it's kind of a sobering experience because, you know, I originally thought they were all old. So all of a sudden I'm feeling a little like the air's been let out of me because it's sort of the first time I've really felt like some kind of middle-aged person. I am Cougar. I am powerful. I don't want to be some worn out looking middle-aged wife and mother who gets excited when she finds a new recipe for meatloaf. Then I notice we're all watching the television that has Kathy Lee Gifford on it and we're all kind of into it, and off in the distance I hear the faint pounding of nails being driven into a coffin. Sad. Seriously, what the hell happened to my life?

My year according to Facebook

I made this on Facebook and it made me laugh, so now I'm making you read it. Deal.

I. Can't. Quit. You.

I can't decide if my addiction to Twitter is starting to get out of hand or not. I spend a lot of time thinking about tweeting. I added texting to my cell service specifically because I wanted to be able to tweet from anywhere. Because, brah, you NEVER know when something hysterical is going to happen, and God forbid you can't tweet about it when it does. I'd lived without texting for, well, forever until I started tweeting. I'll admit I actually do just text people now, too, but I was happy without it before. But the other funny thing about Twitter is that I'm starting to feel pressure to try and be funny with everything I say. What started out as something fun has now become a small source of stress in my life. That's crazy, right? Now when I'm on Twitter, I almost feel like I'm onstage. Most of the time, I really do just tweet what enters my mind at that particular moment. But I definitely find myself looking at situations in life for their tweeting potential. Is this something good enough to tweet? Or, how can I tweak this so it's good enough to tweet about? It's CRAZINESS, I tell you. But even as I type all this, I have absolutely no plans to quit Twitter anytime soon. I need it, man. I really, really do.

Thank God that's over.

Just finished my Christmas letter. Thank you sweet baby Jesus. You know, this is one of those funny little things about Christmas that I mentioned in an earlier post, one of those things that I'm supposed to do that makes everything during this time of year way more complicated than it needs to be. Granted, it's self-imposed, but it gets harder each year to pump that baby out. Admittedly, I do write pretty awesome Christmas letters, and I'm not just saying that because it's the sort of thing I'd normally say about myself. Seriously, people camp outside their mail boxes every year awaiting the arrival of my Christmas letter. It's that good. But the thing about being great is that you can only sustain it for so long, people. My light can't shine bright in the sky forever. One day, as sad as it is to contemplate, my big ole hot ball of gas is going to burn out. It's the way of things. But that time ain't now, so I'm still a SUPERSTAR. And, yes, I did just finish drinking a couple glasses of wine. Why do you ask?

Eh, I tried.

On Tuesday, I go in for my annual "woman's" exam. Oh, joy. It's something I really look forward to all year because there's nothing quite like the feel of cold, hard stainless steel prying you open like an over-zealous rescue worker with the jaws o' life. At any rate, that's Tuesday, and I've decided I'm going to ask my doctor about going back on some kind of anti-depressant. As you might remember, I went off them over the summer because of blood pressure problems I was having. I thought I might like to give "clean" living a try, and I've pretty much decided it sucks. It's funny experiencing the sort of irrational moodiness and anger I've been feeling again since going off in July. You know, I really forgot what it was like before. I really forgot how I'd know my reactions and responses weren't logical while not being able to do otherwise. But I find my main reason for wanting to go back on is the same as it was the first time around: my daughter. I don't want her to ever think she's responsible for my sadness or anger. And even though I'm not having rash outbursts or anything, I definitely feel like I carry a certain pall around nowadays, and I've no desire to live in darkness. Besides, I got so good at pill-popping the last seven years, it seems a shame to waste all that skill.

On the waiting

I'm solidly a year into my mid-life crisis and I'm not really seeing an end to it any time soon. Good or bad? I don't know. What I do know is I'm not the only woman of a certain age afflicted by this particular lament. In talking to other female friends, I've determined we're all pretty much bogged down with thoughts of our lives passing by us too quickly to grab. Our days are packed with jobs, kids, family obligations, housework, carpools, you name it, and we're all freaked out that we're losing ourselves. I've got it easier than most because I have only one child and she's old enough to start being responsible for some of herself now, which frees up some of my time to pursue things that interest me--namely theatre. But despite that, I still have this nagging sense that I'm really only in a waiting pattern, and I've got all these other things outside myself that I've got to see through before I can jump into my life. I don't want to come across as complaining because I wouldn't have done many of the things that have brought me to where I am today much differently, but waiting isn't a strong suit of mine. I suppose I just wish it was possible to put as much energy as I'd like into everything I'm interested in doing without having to sacrifice anything. And in a similar vein, it should would be swell to win the lottery. Ka-ching.

The most wonderful time of the year

I'm sitting here typing this because I'm bored right now and I couldn't think of anything else to do. I was watching Pirate Radio until I turned off my browser to switch to a different one without thinking I'd shut off the movie. I didn't feel compelled to get back to it, so that should tell you how engaged I was with that particular film. At any rate, we're talking about Christmas, aren't we? It's funny to me how quickly Christmas comes up now that I'm an adult. I just remember thinking it used to seem like FOREVER getting to Christmas. There just never seems to be enough time to do all the stuff I'd like to do. Eh, scratch that, to do the all the stuff I'm supposed to do. I've honestly lost any desire to decorate for the holidays or bake my ass off or run around shopping every second of the day. Most of it seems fairly meaningless to me. Even now, I'm only waiting to see if my daughter mentions putting up the Christmas tree before I actually do it. We'll be going to my parents' house this year, so I feel like there's not much point in doing it. Am I turning into a Scrooge? I hope not. I do consider Christmas my favorite holiday, but I'm more interested in spending time with my family than busting a nut trying to do it Martha Stewart style.

Gobble, gobble

Hey. It's 5:30 a.m., Thanksgiving, and I'm awake. I don't want to be awake, but I am. I'd probably still be asleep if my husband hadn't woken up an hour ago and screamed like a little girl while I was leaning over him to check the clock. Apparently, I startled him. At any rate, his screaming like a bitch switched the receptors in my brain from dim to fully lit, which brings us to this very moment. We'll be going over to our friends' house to eat today, but I've got a turkey thawing in the sink to cook later. We normally have Thanksgiving someplace other than home and I didn't use to make a turkey when we didn't stay here, but then I started realizing how much it sucks not having leftover turkey. And, obviously, me trying to blog in the wee hours of the morning doesn't make for very scintillating prose. Ah, well, I suppose I can't always be interesting.

I just sent a note to a friend of mine who's working as a contractor in the Middle East, and I'm wondering if he'll get any turkey today. Mind you, it doesn't sound like they're too badly set up as far as food goes with some of the stuff he's told me they get in the mess hall, but there are some things that are nice to be able to take for granted, like a nice turkey on Thanksgiving. Lobster is nice, but--you know--it's just not the same. So to all of you who are away from family and home, I hope you get good and stuffed on what you love best.

Little bit of a breather before heading off again.

So I've got approximately 15 minutes to kill before I've got to start getting stuff together for this trivia night thing the family is doing tonight. It's a fundraiser at our church for a sister parish in India. I haven't been to a trivia night in awhile, but I like them a lot. Mainly because it's one of the few times I can show off all the meaningless and useless shit crammed into my head. Normally, there aren't many appropriate opportunities for me to tell people that Lauren Bacall was only 19 when she fell in love with Humphrey Bogart (who was 45 at the time). The only bummer about the evening is that it's a sans alcohol event because it's a "family" trivia night, meaning kids will be there. In the past, I've only gone to adults-only events, which are usually BYOB. At any rate, this is a sad thing because the only thing better than sharing my useless knowledge with the world is doing so while slightly intoxicated. Regardless, I'm sure it will be a really good time. I'm taking hot wings. Are you jealous? Um, yeah, I'm sure you are because hot wings rock. I love me some buffalo sauce. I think Jones Soda should try and make a buffalo sauce soda. They put out all those other weird ones, I betcha a buffalo sauce flavored soda would make, like, ten million dollars. No lie.

Just checking in

Hey. Have you missed me? Yeah, I understand. Elephant Man opens tonight and runs for two weeks, so that's been taking up most of my time lately. It seems like we've been rehearsing this thing forever, so it's good to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. One of my cast mates will be baring it all for the scene where Mrs. Kendal disrobes for John Merrick. Well, not all, just her boobs, which is still a lot in my book. We talked about it last night at rehearsal and I told her I just wouldn't have the guts to do it. I'd make sure I had something covering my nipples like those silicone push-up things that stick to your tits so you don't have to wear a bra. Actually, I'd put big ole googly eyes on my nipples. But I definitely would not go nude. While I'm not frightened of doing most things that would draw attention to myself from the curious, I'm not an exhibitionist. The thought of being seen naked by strangers completely freaks me the hell out.

Daily affirmation

I am all that and a bag of chips. I know it. You know it. That's why you're afraid of me.


Glitter Graphics

Podcast episode 33

Went to Hooters last night for the first time to celebrate my friend Brian's 27th birthday. Lucky for you, I had my digital recorder with me to tape the madness that ensued--six minutes of madness, anyway. As always, it's raunchy and completely inappropriate, but that's why you guys love it, isn't it?

I still exist, at least in my own mind.

Just checking in with you for my once monthly (or less frequent) post. I've been busy with rehearsals for another show, which is always très sweet for me. Heading to the Michigan Renaissance Festival this weekend, and I am so going to get my roasted turkey leg on while we're there. This will be the first Renaissance fest for my daughter, and to say she's a little bit excited about it would be a MAJOR understatement. We'd originally planned on taking her to the Maryland Renaissance Festival over Labor Day weekend when I went to see my brother's new baby, but we couldn't take the extra day off it would have required because she had something special going on at school immediately following the holiday. So, the Michigan festival is the compromise. We're going to be going up with a couple of theatre friends of mine. My daughter is particularly fond of one of the women I do a lot of theatre stuff with and asked if she could come along. Being the gracious woman she is, my friend Seyhan agreed and is bringing her mother, as well. In preparation for this momentous event, I've been working on a costume for my daughter to wear because, dude, she HAS to have the proper attire. After going through a bunch of patterns I have, my daughter settled on a cloak, a vest, a billowy blouse, and a sash. She decided she'd wear these black, jersey gauchos she has (which she calls her elf pants because she thinks it's something an elf would wear) to complete her outfit. She also plans on taking a wooden staff she has from taekwondo days. I finished the cloak last week and will be feverishly trying to finish the rest of it this week. We have this week off from rehearsal, so I'm thinking it shouldn't be too much of a problem. I hope.

Me 2.0

K, so I went to Montana a few weeks ago and had my brother-in-law perform a mini-tummy tuck on me. I'm just about four weeks post-op. I've got to wear compression garments for another four weeks if I can stand it, and I can't exercise for another two weeks. With the type of procedure I had, the surgeon really only removes excess skin beneath the belly button and then stretches the heck out of the remaining skin to reattach at the pubic area. If I had to guess, I'd say the incision is about a foot long. A couple of things I've learned since having the operation is that it sucks recuperating from major surgery and the body takes a long damn time to heal.

Yesterday, I couldn't take it any longer and I got on my elliptical for about 15 minutes. I went very slowly and didn't use my arms. I broke a little bit of a sweat and it felt good. However, soon after exercising, I noticed a dull, throbbing pain at the incision site. You know how kids have to make their own mistakes, even when someone older and wiser tells them a certain course of action is a bad idea? Apparently, I'm still making my own mistakes. So I didn't get on the elliptical today. I'll wait the remaining two weeks, I think.

At any rate, this entire experience has me thinking about vanity and the extremes to which we're willing to go because of it. I had a big ole chunk of skin cut off my body in the name of vanity. That's kind of crazy, when you think about it. I haven't even mentioned yet that I also had two laser treatments on my face while I was in Montana. In plain language, I let someone burn the skin off my face with a laser……twice. I can now say I know what my burning flesh smells like. That's messed up by any stretch of the imagination, and I'm here to tell you I'd do it all again given the chance. Why? I don't know. I mean, I know it's because I didn't want that extra, saggy post-pregnancy skin on my stomach and I want to look younger than my age. But what I don't know is why those things are important to me. Some might say I'm succumbing to societal pressure, which is probably true to a certain extent. But, I'm really not the sort to care too much what society thinks of me. Ultimately, I think I've done these things because I want to appear as young on the outside as I feel on the inside. Still not a very rational reason for undergoing these procedures, but at least I wasn't crazy enough to pay for them. I'll take my self-mutilation for free, thank you.

Podcast #32

I'm here with my wubby Ed. He's moving to Alaska and leaving me to fend for myself in the wilds of South Bend. Will I survive? Who knows, but listen to our witty banter.

Coming down

Due to some problems with blood pressure I've been experiencing lately, my doctor is weaning me off my anti-depressant medication. I currently take Cymbalta and my doctor wants to see if it's contributing to the high measurements I've been getting. I've been on Cymbalta about a year and a half, I'd guess, and I was on Celexa about five years or so before that. So, if you do the math, I've been taking meds for depression and anxiety between six and seven years. Before going on medication, I suffered from depression and anxiety most of my life. I only finally started taking drugs when I realized my inability to control my moods might have an adverse effect on my daughter. Children can't understand that a parent yelling at them might not have anything in the world to actually do with them. I know what that's like on the receiving end, and I wasn't going to put her through a similar experience. At any rate, I'm a few days into the weaning process and I'm finding it an interesting experience. I find myself inexplicably confused at moments and then perfectly lucid. I've been experiencing some tingling in my hands and some brief moments of nausea. In fact, right at this moment I am finding it difficult to concentrate on what I'm writing. I can't even remember what prompted me to start typing this post.

I don't feel particularly bad about going off the meds because I've started thinking it might be good to detox anyway. How long should a person really be on drugs? I know it's about chemical imbalances in the brain and I don't feel embarrassed about taking medication, but sometimes I think it would be nice to function at a more organic level. Maybe I'm just curious to see if I'd be able to deal with my depression better now. I'm a little worried I might start having increased appetite because I think medication did control hunger to some extent. I guess I felt I just needed to document somewhere what's happening to me in case I seem really, really off to people for a little while.

How to say good-bye

A very good friend of mine just accepted a new job in Alaska and will be moving at the end of August. While I am ecstatically happy for him, I am bereft of joy for myself. He'll be making the shift from print journalism to broadcast, which is something he's been wanting to do for awhile. Like I said, I absolutely couldn't be happier for him and he is the sort of person who deserves every last stinking bit of good thing that comes his way. Not to mention, he's worked very, very hard and is very, very good at what he does. He's the sort of journalist I used to dream about being when I was in journalism school. So again, it's hard for me to put into words how proud and happy I feel for him. However, because I love him so much, the thought of him being a country away breaks my heart. What's interesting about this is that I've spent my entire life saying good-bye to people, and I'm very good at it. I can say so long and never look back. It's the sort of thing that comes part and parcel with growing up in a military family. But with Ed, I often find myself on the verge of tears when I think about him leaving. It's made odder still by the fact that modern technology makes it so easy to stay in touch with people in very real and immediate ways. We plan on keeping in touch through Skype and IM, so I could conceivably see him every day after he's left. Ultimately, what makes me think his impending departure so hard for me is that I think that maybe we occasionally meet people who are soul mates of a sort and we only feel complete when we can be with them. I only use the term soul mate for lack of a better term because our relationship is about as platonic as it's possible for a relationship to be. But knowing Ed has opened my mind and heart in more ways than I can count. He is a friend, a confidante, a shoulder, and a brother to me. I think maybe we knew each other in a past life. It's the only explanation I can come up with for how connected I feel to him. So, in the time I have left, I will try to create new memories to add to those I already have and I'll start planning my first trip to Alaska because nothing rocks more than going places you've never been.

Podcast, episode 31

You thought I'd abandoned you for Twitter, didn't you? Well, I kinda have, but I'll still be stopping by every now and again just to keep you guessing. Here's the latest episode of my podcast. I talk to a special friend I made on Twitter. See, Twitter is for friends. Anywho, give it a listen. As usual, it's worth your time.

It's May, so I should write somethng.

You know, life is such a strange journey. I'm not saying that because something weird in particular happened to me or anything. I'm just realizing you never know where you'll end up. I think so much lately about life and what I think I'm doing and where I think I'm going, and I don't know any of that any better than I did when I was 20. That's what's so weird about it. You'd think at this age, I'd have gotten smart about some things, but I haven't. It's just as confusing now as it's ever been. Most of the time, I feel like I'm sitting in a room looking out a window and wishing I was outside. I don't say that as a depressing thing, I say it because I'm tired of just looking. People talk about a mid-life crisis like it's a bad thing. I'm starting to wonder how much of mid-life crisis is about realizing you've got to make the most of the time you've got. Granted, some people take it too far, but I feel like I'm done with living my life by other people's rules. That's my mid-life crisis, I guess. I'm not content with standing on the sidelines anymore. I want to feel it and taste it and hold it and press it to my face and breath deeply. I'll worry about the rest of it later.

Of wigmakers and sex talks

On a two-day break from Rashomon right now. Here's a picture of me in my wigmaker garb.



Don't I look very wigmakeryish? Yeah, I think so, too. At any rate, the show is going really well and we're getting lots of compliments on it, so that's always gratifying. The show closes Sunday and then I am off to Chicago the following weekend for my big birthday celebration with my friend Ann from college. We both turned 40 a couple of weeks ago, so we're going to party like were 20 again. I can't wait.

Switching gears a bit, as I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I've been hooked on Twitter lately. It's been really cool talking with some new and interesting people that I'd never have an opportunity to talk to otherwise. One short discussion I got into with someone was about when it's appropriate to start having the sex talk with your children. I said I don't think it's ever too early and explained how I've been talking to my daughter (who is now 11) since she was four. I basically only waited until I thought she was old enough to have enough awareness of her body to grasp what I was talking about. I started with very simple language and used the words that she associated at the time with her sexual organs.

I also used a book I'd gotten when I was pregnant called A Child is Born by Lennart Nilsson to show her what the male sexual organs looked like so she'd understand that part of the explanation. I didn't get into much detail and just focused on the basics. I let her ask me questions and I told her to come to me anytime she wanted to ask me anything else that she was interested in knowing. From that point, my continuing dialogue with her has been motivated by her follow-up questions. As she's gotten older, I've gone into more detail explaining the biological and physiological processes at work during sex.

In the beginning, I told her sex was something that husbands and wives did together, and I stated it simply without trying to put some extra morality talk on top of that. As she's gotten older and realized that husbands and wives aren't the only people who engage in sex, I've explained that the ideal scenario is that sex takes place between husbands and wives, but that people do have sex when they're not married, but that it's a very personal decision and that sex is absolutely something that should only occur between adults, which means over 18--and that, really, even older than 18 isn't a bad thing.

I've also been very frank with her in explaining that I talk to her about these things because I want her to understand the potential risks she's taking if she was to decide to have sex before she is emotionally and physically ready for it. I told her that as she gets older and moves into high school and starts dating there will come a point where she might feel pressured by a boy or even her friends to have sex and that I want her to have all the information she'll need to make the right decision. I also have explained that she might start hearing things from her friends about sex that don't seem to jibe with the things I've told her and that she should always feel comfortable coming to me to ask me which things are correct and which aren't.

For the most part, I think I've been pretty successful. She still doesn't know everything, (and at this point in her life, she really doesn't need to know EVERYTHING) but I plan to answer any question she throws at me as she gets older. Yes, I plan on talking to her about birth control later on. We're Catholic and she goes to Catholic school and I know the point will come if it hasn't already where she'll be taught the use of artificial birth control is against our religion. I don't plan on telling her that's wrong, but I do plan on explaining to her the different forms of birth control available and the proper way to use them and to explain to her why people choose to use them.

I have been so adamant about her having a good understanding of sex because my first sex ed class took place when I was in 4th grade at age nine and I have never, ever felt that was too early to have learned and I firmly believe having had an understanding before I was old enough to really have to worry about sex in any serious way is what helped me stay sex-free through high school. I am very happy that no matter what, I can truthfully tell her I never had sex as a teen. (And by teen, I really mean high school, because I did have sex in college.)

So if I have any real advice about talking to children about sex, it would be to start early, be as straightforward and honest as you can be about it, and never make them feel stupid or embarrassed to ask you questions. Of the many parenting decisions I've made where I question whether or not I've done the right thing, I have not once felt I've done the wrong thing by opening this conversation with my daughter.

That number is coming from inside the house.

So I'm home alone for a week. Actually, I was home alone for a week this past Saturday, but now it's Monday, which means I'm really only home alone for another four days or so. Anyway, I'm home alone. My husband took my daughter to visit my parents while she has spring break this week. Every year my husband and I alternate taking off from work to do something with the kid one on one. This week will probably be the closest thing I experience to living by myself. I've never lived by myself, ever. I always had roommates in college, and then after graduation I moved back home and then when I got engaged, my husband and I moved in together. I never thought living alone was something I wanted to do. I'm a people person and the idea of being all by myself for extended periods of time has always kind of freaked me out. So far, it's not been too bad, but a lot of that is due to the fact that I'm pretty busy. I've got work and I'm in another play, so I just don't have a lot of time on my hands. Even now that I'm home from rehearsal, I'm only taking a little break before I start doing some cleaning.

At any rate, even though I've never assumed living alone is something I'd ever want to do, I sure do like the feeling of not having to take other people into consideration as far as my activities are concerned. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm wishing away my family or anything, but it's nice knowing I can work out as long as I want at the gym because I don't have to worry about picking up my daughter. And it's nice knowing I can run around with friends and not have to worry about whether or not I've been out too late and am expected home. It's obviously a completely self-absorbed existence, but I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.

I'm scratching my head a little in confusion, not because I have lice.

You know, I post very rarely now due to several reasons I've already mentioned. And even when I did post regularly, I never got many comments. So imagine my confusion when I see that my last post has garnered several comments in the span of a couple of days. I guess part of it is due to the fact that people obviously have strong feelings about Expelled and/or the question of intelligent design vs. Darwinsim. I'm just curious how those people ended up reading my post. Not that I mind. That's why I blog. I like sharing my thoughts with the big wide world because I'm vain and think everyone else will find my opinions as engaging as I find them. It's also why I podcast. I think my conversations are hilarious, ergo others will find my conversations hilarious. At any rate, getting back to the issue at hand—I like comments and welcome them, I just wonder where they're coming from all of a sudden.

Can't we just get along?

I just finished watching Ben Stein's Expelled, his documentary investigating the established scientific community's resistance (and perhaps active attempts to squash) to considering intelligent design as a possible explanation for the beginning of life. At its heart, the film focuses on a troubling trend within American academic/scientific circles to exclude lines of questioning that fall outside the accepted evolutionary (Darwinism) paradigm. The film presents several established scientists who have been ostracized for daring to mention or include intelligent design within the broader scholarship on evolution and human origin.

Stein also interviews scientists who eschew intelligent design as a valid line of investigation within serious scientific work. In all, I think Stein does an excellent job of warning the viewing audience of the inherent dangers of allowing a societal silencing of ideas that exist outside the accepted norm. When the film first came out, I read reviews of it which included those that said Stein was trying to make hysterical connections between Darwinism and Eugenics, such as the attempted genocide during WWII. I didn't find his presentation hysterical. I found it fairly balanced. Of course, the argument can always be made that we'll never know what sort of comments were left on the cutting room floor, but I didn't come away from the film thinking Stein was trying to say Darwinism was wrong and that people who believed in evolution were ignorant. I came away thinking he is frightened of current events that seem to be stepping on one's freedom of speech in this country and wants to bring light to a problem that the average American might not be aware of.

Having spent the last 12 years of my life working in an academic environment, I have witnessed what Stein speaks of in the film. Academics, in my experience, are probably some of the most rabidly closed-minded people I've encountered in my life. Don't get me wrong, there are many who are very open to the idea of differing opinions, but those who are not scare the living shit out of me because they've got an institutional support that allows them to justify their closed-mindedness as truth.

Let me say that I don't view evolution and creation as mutually exclusive. In many ways, I consider evolution to be creation. Evolution is perhaps, in my mind, our human attempt to understand what God created. I'm not a literalist as far as the Bible is concerned. It's not essential to me to think what is written is exactly how it happened. The world was created in six days. What the hell is six days to God? Everyday I see things and experience things that make me think it can't be an accident, this life that exists. But, I don't automatically think atheists are ignorant people. I think whatever events of their lives brought them to their beliefs are just as valid as the events that have brought me to believe in God. All I ask is for the same respect.

At any rate, this has all been a really rambling and disconnected attempt to say I liked the film and I think everyone can benefit from watching it.

Happy Friday the 13th. Hope you don't trip over a rock, have a donkey kick you in the butt as you get up.

Guess what I just learned. There's a limit on how much you can type into the title field. Did not know that. It's almost like Twitter. Speaking of Twitter, that's where I am most days now. You may have guessed by the dearth of posting going on here. As you can see, I've placed a Twitter scroll of my tweets off to the right. You may have noticed that has seen a lot of action lately. I'm only posting now because I don't want my blog to know I'm cheating on it. This is like a mercy fuck. I don't want to get rid of the old blog. It's been good and faithful, but I cannot resist the minimalist allure of micro-blogging on Twitter. Basically, I want my cake and I want to cram fistfuls of it down my throat.

Twitter is so easy because I can just type in any random though that pops into my head. I use a couple of desktop apps to keep track of the people I'm following while I work. If it wasn't for that, I probably wouldn't be as addicted to it as I am. If I had to log in every time I had a thought, I probably wouldn't do it. But TweetDesk and DestroyTwitter just make it so easy to dash off something before I've even realized I've done it. Really, who could ask for more?

Podcast #30

Here I am with the trifecta of romance writing: Julia London, Kathleen Givens and Sherri Browning Erwin. Otherwise known as The Whine Sisters, these three ladies are as full of good humor as they are euphemisms for penis, which is a lot.

Just because I'm bored and not feeling very motivated today

These are apparently the celebrities I look like. I don't know if I agree. I have to confess I don't even know who half the people on this collage are.

MyHeritage: Celebrity Collage - Family tree layout - Old photos

Podcast #29

Here's the latest episode of the old podcast for your listening pleasure. I discuss stupid boys and their stupid boy ways with their stupid boy brains. I'm also rocking a new theme song courtesy of a very talented Miss Ellie Eastman.

Podcast #28

I continue my conversation with Vincent Bilancio, newly informed by my recent viewing of Werewolf in a Women's Prison.

Another random IM conversation with my brother

Podcast #27

I speak with special guest Vincent Bilancio. He shares his experiences in the trenches of independent movie making, and gives us an insider view of such cinematic masterpieces as Werewolf in a Women's Prison and Blood Gnome.