So, yesterday was Thanksgiving, for those of you who don't live on planet Earth. It was my third Thanksgiving in L.A., and I had planned on spending it the way I've spent the last two . . . with me, myself and I.
That was the plan.
I was totally OK with it, too. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't planning on holding some sort of pity-party for myself, complete with party hats and favors. No. I was actually looking forward to a day of quiet. No one needing me. No one calling me. No one emailing me asking me for something. It was going to be grand.
It started out that way. I slept in . . . OK wait, side note. When I say that I'm going to "sleep in" it doesn't mean that I sleep until 9:00 or 10:00, people. Sleeping in for me means 11:30, at the very earliest. So if you know that I'm going to be spending the morning, "sleeping in" please do not call or text - or if you do, don't expect me to respond.
OK. Moving on. I slept in, went for a fabulous run at the Balboa trail, did some cleaning, a little laundry. And then I sat. And suddenly I didn't want to spend the day all by my lonesome.
So I called up good friend, Sandra. She had invited me to come over for a visit. No big party, just her and Jordan, sans Beka. "Sure!" she said, "Come on over." So I did. We shared white wine spritzers (yes, Sandra is bringing them back), a little gossip, and some laughs.
Next up? The party house. I arrived a little after 8:00, and when I got there the group was playing Catch Phrase. I joined in, and although I didn't do much to help team #2, it was a grand time. Then on to Apples-to-Apples, another game that I had never played before. Again, a grand time was had by all, or most anyway. Knowing that I had to work in the morning, I said my goodbyes rather early, and headed home to bed.
The point I'm trying to make here is that of all the things that I could be thankful for, I am the most thankful for yesterday. For friends, who have become my family. For being able to feel just a bit more comfortable in my skin, my L.A. skin. For it being OK to reach out and not feel like I'm asking too much, or needing too much. Some of you who will read this know what that means, and how much that means to me.
I cannot convey enough, so I'll just say, "Thanks."
Friday, November 27, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Remembering
It's an important day today. September 11. It's comforting in a way that I don't need to remind any American what happened on this day eight (8) years ago today. And a comfort that most Americans will hold this day in remembrance.
I don't doubt that almost everyone remembers where they were, what they were doing, what was going on at the time that they heard about the Twin Towers. I know that I will forever have that imprinted on my brain, just as many have the day the Challenger blew up, or the day John Lennon was shot forever imprinted on their brains. Not that I'm comparing Septemeber 11 to those days, but the reverberating shock does linger.
I was making ad sales calls. I had just left one call, jumped into my car and there it was on the radio . . . a plane had it one of the towers. I thought it was a joke at first - I really did. I actually couldn't believe what I was hearing. My next stop was Lowry State Bank. I popped into Bob's office, and shared what I had heard. "Apparently a plane hit one of the Twin Towers." He couldn't believe it.
It wasn't until I got to Starbuck, to the Starbuck Times, that I had reinforcement. They had heard. It was true. We all went next door to Tank's TV and Appliance, and proceeded to watch the entire thing on the 52-inch TV.
I was numb. I think we all were. How could this happen? What was going to happen? And then, the news of the hijacked planes. It was all so surreal.
The funny thing is, I don't remember what else happened that day, if anything significant. I can't imagine that a whole lot of work got done. But I will forever remember the exact place I was - in my red 1999 Pontiac Grand Am, when I heard the news for the first time.
To all the families of all those who were lost that day, and all the families of all those who have lost their lives since that day fighting for what many people believe to be "retaliation" . . . I will hold you in my heart. Forever.
I don't doubt that almost everyone remembers where they were, what they were doing, what was going on at the time that they heard about the Twin Towers. I know that I will forever have that imprinted on my brain, just as many have the day the Challenger blew up, or the day John Lennon was shot forever imprinted on their brains. Not that I'm comparing Septemeber 11 to those days, but the reverberating shock does linger.
I was making ad sales calls. I had just left one call, jumped into my car and there it was on the radio . . . a plane had it one of the towers. I thought it was a joke at first - I really did. I actually couldn't believe what I was hearing. My next stop was Lowry State Bank. I popped into Bob's office, and shared what I had heard. "Apparently a plane hit one of the Twin Towers." He couldn't believe it.
It wasn't until I got to Starbuck, to the Starbuck Times, that I had reinforcement. They had heard. It was true. We all went next door to Tank's TV and Appliance, and proceeded to watch the entire thing on the 52-inch TV.
I was numb. I think we all were. How could this happen? What was going to happen? And then, the news of the hijacked planes. It was all so surreal.
The funny thing is, I don't remember what else happened that day, if anything significant. I can't imagine that a whole lot of work got done. But I will forever remember the exact place I was - in my red 1999 Pontiac Grand Am, when I heard the news for the first time.
To all the families of all those who were lost that day, and all the families of all those who have lost their lives since that day fighting for what many people believe to be "retaliation" . . . I will hold you in my heart. Forever.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Boomer, Part Deux
I wrote a little bit about my best bud, Boomer, last week. It was the one-year anniversary of his death at the time, and I was cherishing my memories of him.
But, there's so much more that I can say about this "more-than-a-cat."
Today, my nephew Colin, was telling someone about Boomer. How he was the "best cat ever." Joe would consistently bring Colin Little Debbie Snack Cakes and tell him that Boomer made them. He also told Colin that Boomer "put the power" in his truck. Colin is five years old, so maybe he knows and maybe he doesn't, but he was so proud telling Jess of Boomer's accomplishments. And he was concerned about the snack cakes. He said that no one can make those cakes anymore because Joe didn't get the recipe from Boomer before he passed.
When Joe and I picked Boomer up for the first time, he was so tiny! Like I said before, he had been found abandoned by a dumpster (in Starbuck, I believe). I had seen an advertisement for him in the Canary I believe. We went one night to check him out, and he was the one. Joe and I had driven separately, so Boomer rode with Joe. We had brought a box to tote him in (I think it was a potato chip box, actually!). But he soon crawled out of that, and was freely roaming Joe's pickup. I think Joe was probably a little freaked out that a tiny little kitten was climbing all over his relatively new pickup! But we all made it home safely, and Boomer adapted to his new living space quickly.
He wasn't an angel, that's for sure. My mom and dad's cat Muffie (or Muffy, depending on who spells it) always seemed to be on the short end of the love at our house. She was always getting picked on - and Boomer was no exception! Once he was a little bigger, he had no problem torturing her.
One year Joe and I bought him a cat sweater as a joke. We thought we would put him in it and take a picture, just for a good laugh (and memory). But Boo was smarter than us. Somehow, the sweater ended up in the garbage and was burned. I know in my heart to this day, that he was somehow responsible!
He was not only a cat, and I will continue to cherish his memory for many years to come.
But, there's so much more that I can say about this "more-than-a-cat."
Today, my nephew Colin, was telling someone about Boomer. How he was the "best cat ever." Joe would consistently bring Colin Little Debbie Snack Cakes and tell him that Boomer made them. He also told Colin that Boomer "put the power" in his truck. Colin is five years old, so maybe he knows and maybe he doesn't, but he was so proud telling Jess of Boomer's accomplishments. And he was concerned about the snack cakes. He said that no one can make those cakes anymore because Joe didn't get the recipe from Boomer before he passed.
When Joe and I picked Boomer up for the first time, he was so tiny! Like I said before, he had been found abandoned by a dumpster (in Starbuck, I believe). I had seen an advertisement for him in the Canary I believe. We went one night to check him out, and he was the one. Joe and I had driven separately, so Boomer rode with Joe. We had brought a box to tote him in (I think it was a potato chip box, actually!). But he soon crawled out of that, and was freely roaming Joe's pickup. I think Joe was probably a little freaked out that a tiny little kitten was climbing all over his relatively new pickup! But we all made it home safely, and Boomer adapted to his new living space quickly.
He wasn't an angel, that's for sure. My mom and dad's cat Muffie (or Muffy, depending on who spells it) always seemed to be on the short end of the love at our house. She was always getting picked on - and Boomer was no exception! Once he was a little bigger, he had no problem torturing her.
One year Joe and I bought him a cat sweater as a joke. We thought we would put him in it and take a picture, just for a good laugh (and memory). But Boo was smarter than us. Somehow, the sweater ended up in the garbage and was burned. I know in my heart to this day, that he was somehow responsible!
He was not only a cat, and I will continue to cherish his memory for many years to come.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Boomer, You Are Still Loved
It's kind of a sad day today. One year ago, to this very day, I lost a very dear friend of mine. His name was Boomer, and he had been with me for 13+ years. He was my cat.
But he was also much more.
You might be thinking . . . it's only a cat. But when you spend that many years with someone (or something), you become rather attached.
Joe and I still talk about him to this day. All the things he used to do. His little quirks, his way of winning us over, not matter how naughty he had been. The way he used to wake us up in the middle of the night with his wet nose in an ear.
He was a spoiled cat, that's for sure. When it was just us, he used to jump up on the counter or the table. And we'd let him. We bought him the best food. When it came to Boomer, there was no expense spared.
Some things about him . . . he hated to ride in the car. He rarely meowed (In fact, when we first got him as a kitten, he barely meowed at all. My mom said it was because he wore out his meow crying for his mom - he was found abandoned by a dumpster). But when he had to ride in the car (either to the vet, or if we had to take him to my mom's when we went on vacation) he cried the whole way.
Like I said above, he was abandoned by a dumpster. We got him from the Pope County Humane Society when he was just a kitten. He was actually my birthday present from Joe. I was still in high school, and my mom and dad didn't know that he was coming to live with us. My dad was asleep when we brought him home, and the next day I was sitting on the couch with Boomer by my side. My dad walked through the family room - and stopped. "What is that?" he said. Luckily, everyone fell in love with him immediately, and he was a welcome addition to the family.
Joe was not a cat person before Boomer. In fact, I think he wasn't too willing to "give" him to me for my birthday. But just like everyone else, Joe fell in love with Boomer. And after 13+ years, he became the third point to our family triangle.
At the end, he was really sick. He had been having some kidney and digestive issues for some time. We'd take him to the vet (which, he hated of course), but he never really seemed to get better. Age has a lot to do with his demise, but health problems contributed.
Finally, it got to the point where nothing could be done. I remember when I got the call from Joe. I was in class, but stepped out because I knew it couldn't be good news. Joe told me what the vet had said - that it was probably best to put him to sleep. He would take him into the vet the following day (a Friday), but it was most likely that it would be time to take that step.
The next day, we made the decision. I was so torn. I wished we could wait until I could be there to say goodbye, but that didn't seem fair to Boo. Joe had his mom take Boomer into the vet because he wanted to say goodbye to him at the house.
It was time, and Boo knew it. He hated to go into the cat carrier - seriously, we had to stuff him in there kicking and screaming (probably because he knew he would be going in the car), but this time, he walked right in. By himself.
That makes me cry every time I think it about it.
So, on 8/8/08, Boomer left us. He really knew how to go out in style - all 8's like that.
I could say so much more, but it's still a bit too much all at once. Regardless, I wanted to share Boomer's story with you - on this, his one-year mark of being gone.
Boomer, you are still loved.
But he was also much more.
You might be thinking . . . it's only a cat. But when you spend that many years with someone (or something), you become rather attached.
Joe and I still talk about him to this day. All the things he used to do. His little quirks, his way of winning us over, not matter how naughty he had been. The way he used to wake us up in the middle of the night with his wet nose in an ear.
He was a spoiled cat, that's for sure. When it was just us, he used to jump up on the counter or the table. And we'd let him. We bought him the best food. When it came to Boomer, there was no expense spared.
Some things about him . . . he hated to ride in the car. He rarely meowed (In fact, when we first got him as a kitten, he barely meowed at all. My mom said it was because he wore out his meow crying for his mom - he was found abandoned by a dumpster). But when he had to ride in the car (either to the vet, or if we had to take him to my mom's when we went on vacation) he cried the whole way.
Like I said above, he was abandoned by a dumpster. We got him from the Pope County Humane Society when he was just a kitten. He was actually my birthday present from Joe. I was still in high school, and my mom and dad didn't know that he was coming to live with us. My dad was asleep when we brought him home, and the next day I was sitting on the couch with Boomer by my side. My dad walked through the family room - and stopped. "What is that?" he said. Luckily, everyone fell in love with him immediately, and he was a welcome addition to the family.
Joe was not a cat person before Boomer. In fact, I think he wasn't too willing to "give" him to me for my birthday. But just like everyone else, Joe fell in love with Boomer. And after 13+ years, he became the third point to our family triangle.
At the end, he was really sick. He had been having some kidney and digestive issues for some time. We'd take him to the vet (which, he hated of course), but he never really seemed to get better. Age has a lot to do with his demise, but health problems contributed.
Finally, it got to the point where nothing could be done. I remember when I got the call from Joe. I was in class, but stepped out because I knew it couldn't be good news. Joe told me what the vet had said - that it was probably best to put him to sleep. He would take him into the vet the following day (a Friday), but it was most likely that it would be time to take that step.
The next day, we made the decision. I was so torn. I wished we could wait until I could be there to say goodbye, but that didn't seem fair to Boo. Joe had his mom take Boomer into the vet because he wanted to say goodbye to him at the house.
It was time, and Boo knew it. He hated to go into the cat carrier - seriously, we had to stuff him in there kicking and screaming (probably because he knew he would be going in the car), but this time, he walked right in. By himself.
That makes me cry every time I think it about it.
So, on 8/8/08, Boomer left us. He really knew how to go out in style - all 8's like that.
I could say so much more, but it's still a bit too much all at once. Regardless, I wanted to share Boomer's story with you - on this, his one-year mark of being gone.
Boomer, you are still loved.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
If I had a hammer . . .
So, I'm in this play - Tracing Sonny - which opens next Friday. It's a great play, by the way, and you should definitely come. But anyway . . . there's a set that has to be built, and today was another day to build. There was a "build" last weekend as well, which I helped out at on Saturday. I used a Skill Saw (or is it Skil Saw?) and a hammer. It was glorious. Today I didn't get to use the saw, but I did paint, used a hammer - and a drill. And I acted as "dead weight" (essentially sitting on pieces of wood that were being cut).
I had forgotten how much I really enjoy "manual labor." It was never that much fun growing up, with chores and baling hay, and picking rocks . . . especially in 90+ degree heat. But it offered a sense of accomplishment - one that just isn't the same with the day job, or even the acting thing. I got my hands dirty, didn't care how I looked as a sweaty, paint-stained mess, and built something.
I had to leave a bit early (plans to attend a play with good friend, Trista), but I was proud of the work I had done. And somehow it made me somewhat more invested in my character. Not only did I help build "little limbo" that Nanette calls home, but I found a "home" for her.
You can see this beautiful set, at the Avery Schrieber Theatre in North Hollywood. 8:00 p.m. on Friday and Saturday; 2:00 p.m. on Sundays.
I had forgotten how much I really enjoy "manual labor." It was never that much fun growing up, with chores and baling hay, and picking rocks . . . especially in 90+ degree heat. But it offered a sense of accomplishment - one that just isn't the same with the day job, or even the acting thing. I got my hands dirty, didn't care how I looked as a sweaty, paint-stained mess, and built something.
I had to leave a bit early (plans to attend a play with good friend, Trista), but I was proud of the work I had done. And somehow it made me somewhat more invested in my character. Not only did I help build "little limbo" that Nanette calls home, but I found a "home" for her.
You can see this beautiful set, at the Avery Schrieber Theatre in North Hollywood. 8:00 p.m. on Friday and Saturday; 2:00 p.m. on Sundays.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Rain, Rain, Go AWAY!
Ok, seriously. Is it really supposed to rain this much in L.A.? I don't understand. Where did all the sunshine and warmth go? Instead we are experiencing rainy day after rainy day, complete with flooded streets and backed-up freeways. And I've had enough. If I wanted cold and rain and miserable weather, I would have stayed in Minnesota.
I'm really starting to get depressed.
I'm really starting to get depressed.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Back Up Your Computer!!!
So the other night I was sitting at my computer, enjoying a little concoction I like to call "lemon drop martini."
Ok, let's stop right there. The fact that I had such a liquid substance so close to my computer is asnine to begin with. I know that now. But at the time I was just catching up on Facebook while enjoying my new favorite cocktail.
And then as I was checking my email messages, I reached to set my martini glass down on the coaster . . . except it didn't quite make the coaster.
It spilled. The lemon yummyness raced from glass to laptop in seconds. I shrieked in terror, then quickly grabbed a fistful of tissue to try to wipe it up. Ugh. It was everywhere . . . on the keyboard, under the base, everywhere.
And then the screen flickered, and the next thing I knew it was gone. I frantically tried everything I could think of, but no juice. Even the little light that indicates the laptop is powering up went dark.
I started to cry . . . I'm not even kidding.
Now, I know better. I had backed up my essential files about two months ago, before heading to NY and MN for Christmas (just in case something happened to my laptop during the trip). But I had not backed up since then and there were things - important, vital, life-altering things - that were not backed up.
I didn't sleep much, and kept waking up to see if that power light had miraculously come on. I even got up at about 3:00 a.m. and tried taking my hair-dryer to the thing (needless to say, that didn't work). I was up at the crack of dawn to call Best Buy and find out exactly what time they opened. Argh - it wasn't until 10:00! How could this electronic super-house not open until 10:00 a.m.???? I tried to wait patiently, but failed.
At 9:30 I headed out the door (in the rain, by the way - of course it would be raining). Traffic was not bad at all, and considering that Best Buy is about 2 miles from my apartment, I was there about 10 minute to 10. Apparently there were other technology-troubled souls that day because a handful of us were lined up at 10:01 waiting for them to open the doors.
Doors were opened . . . we all rushed in to our desired location, three of us heading straight to the Geek Squad desk. Where we were informed that the "Geek" had not shown up for the day, but someone would be there in about 30 minutes.
Great. 30 minutes of wandering the store, tortured by the price of the many new laptops . . . which I feared I would have to cough up the money to purchase.
45 minutes later the Geek (or substitute Geek) appeared. The woman in front of me had a Mac iBook that had apparently been in and out of "service" 3 times already. The Geek informed her that they would have to send the computer away (that sounded very ominous - "away") and that it would be 10 days to 2 weeks before she would be able to get it back.
I nearly passed out.
I cannot be without my computer for more than 2 days - and even them I am hyperventilating.
I was next. I explained what happened (I conveniently left out the part about the fact that the "liquid" that I spilled contained vodka - even though I was not even close to tipsy when the spill occurred). He asked me a couple questions, took the battery out and put it back in, then hit the "power" button. I held my breath.
It powered up! I could't believe it! Whatever the Geek did, it worked! I nearly jumped across the counter to give him a big kiss (OK, maybe not . . . he was a Geek after all).
The best part? He didn't charge me a dime! What a nice guy.
The lesson in all of this? BACK UP YOUR COMPUTER!!! I invested in an online back-up system which backs up my files every afternoon - automatically.
It was a close call . . . thank goodness for the Geeks of the world.
Ok, let's stop right there. The fact that I had such a liquid substance so close to my computer is asnine to begin with. I know that now. But at the time I was just catching up on Facebook while enjoying my new favorite cocktail.
And then as I was checking my email messages, I reached to set my martini glass down on the coaster . . . except it didn't quite make the coaster.
It spilled. The lemon yummyness raced from glass to laptop in seconds. I shrieked in terror, then quickly grabbed a fistful of tissue to try to wipe it up. Ugh. It was everywhere . . . on the keyboard, under the base, everywhere.
And then the screen flickered, and the next thing I knew it was gone. I frantically tried everything I could think of, but no juice. Even the little light that indicates the laptop is powering up went dark.
I started to cry . . . I'm not even kidding.
Now, I know better. I had backed up my essential files about two months ago, before heading to NY and MN for Christmas (just in case something happened to my laptop during the trip). But I had not backed up since then and there were things - important, vital, life-altering things - that were not backed up.
I didn't sleep much, and kept waking up to see if that power light had miraculously come on. I even got up at about 3:00 a.m. and tried taking my hair-dryer to the thing (needless to say, that didn't work). I was up at the crack of dawn to call Best Buy and find out exactly what time they opened. Argh - it wasn't until 10:00! How could this electronic super-house not open until 10:00 a.m.???? I tried to wait patiently, but failed.
At 9:30 I headed out the door (in the rain, by the way - of course it would be raining). Traffic was not bad at all, and considering that Best Buy is about 2 miles from my apartment, I was there about 10 minute to 10. Apparently there were other technology-troubled souls that day because a handful of us were lined up at 10:01 waiting for them to open the doors.
Doors were opened . . . we all rushed in to our desired location, three of us heading straight to the Geek Squad desk. Where we were informed that the "Geek" had not shown up for the day, but someone would be there in about 30 minutes.
Great. 30 minutes of wandering the store, tortured by the price of the many new laptops . . . which I feared I would have to cough up the money to purchase.
45 minutes later the Geek (or substitute Geek) appeared. The woman in front of me had a Mac iBook that had apparently been in and out of "service" 3 times already. The Geek informed her that they would have to send the computer away (that sounded very ominous - "away") and that it would be 10 days to 2 weeks before she would be able to get it back.
I nearly passed out.
I cannot be without my computer for more than 2 days - and even them I am hyperventilating.
I was next. I explained what happened (I conveniently left out the part about the fact that the "liquid" that I spilled contained vodka - even though I was not even close to tipsy when the spill occurred). He asked me a couple questions, took the battery out and put it back in, then hit the "power" button. I held my breath.
It powered up! I could't believe it! Whatever the Geek did, it worked! I nearly jumped across the counter to give him a big kiss (OK, maybe not . . . he was a Geek after all).
The best part? He didn't charge me a dime! What a nice guy.
The lesson in all of this? BACK UP YOUR COMPUTER!!! I invested in an online back-up system which backs up my files every afternoon - automatically.
It was a close call . . . thank goodness for the Geeks of the world.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
I'm back
Again, it's been a long time. How do I not find time to blog? Oh yeah . . . I have a busy life! Back from a weekend jaunt to Phoenix for a Super Bowl party and a night at the FBR golf tournament's Bird's Nest party, I am expecting a busy week with too much going on. Monday is the High Jinks Burlesque at Monday Night Tease. Tuesday, class. Wednesday, class. Thursday, class. Then it's Friday again! And work is in between all of that.
Not much to say other than I know now that I cannot keep up with my husband and Bill S. drinking. If I try to, I fail miserably and am sick for days on end.
That's it.
Not much to say other than I know now that I cannot keep up with my husband and Bill S. drinking. If I try to, I fail miserably and am sick for days on end.
That's it.
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