Izzybella!

Blooger Beta

2006-12-19T14:48:00.000-08:00

I started a new blog on blogger beta. I will be updating on that one from now on. Hopefully, I'll be able to merge blogs down the road, but for now, please visit me here!

My Inner Hair Color Should Be...

2006-12-18T10:28:00.000-08:00

Your Hair Should Be Red

Passionate, fiery, and sassy.
You're a total smart aleck who's got the biggest personality around.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

What Kind of Art Movement Am I?

2006-12-18T10:26:00.000-08:00

You Are Pop Art

When it comes to art, you're definitely not a snob.
You can appreciate the mainstream aspects of culture, even if you need to twist them a bit to make them your own.
Whether you're into comics, retro pinups, or bold colors, you embrace what's eye catching and simple.
As far as most other art goes, you consider it a little too elitist and high brow for your tastes!

What Art Movement Are You?

Like I Needed a Quiz to Confirm My Quirk Factor...

2006-12-18T10:22:00.000-08:00

Your Quirk Factor: 62%

You're so quirky, it's hard for you to tell the difference between quirky and normal.
No doubt about it, there's little about you that's "normal" or "average."

How Quirky Are You?

My Celtic Horoscope

2006-12-18T10:20:00.000-08:00

You Are A Hornbeam Tree

You are a reserved person, looking in from the outside.
Naturally attractive, you take good care of your looks.
You are not egoistic, and you make life as comfortable as possible.
You look for kindness in others - though you are seldom happy with yourself.
A bit mistrusting and unsure, you dream of being swept away by someone unusual.

What's Your Celtic Horoscope?

I Am a Little Sunbeam

2006-12-18T10:17:00.000-08:00

And I can't help thinking of all those early morning when my family sarcastically greeted me with "Good Morning, Sunshine!"

You Are Sunshine

Soothing and calm
You are often held up by others as the ideal
But too much of you, and they'll get burned

You are best known for: your warmth

Your dominant state: connecting

What Type of Weather Are You?

General Craziness

2006-12-14T08:52:00.000-08:00

The majority of my move is over (insert spastic Elaine Benes dance of joy here) and I'm left only with a few boxes for Goodwill, a few boxes of stuff my sister wants, and a table set and club chair, which will most likely go to the Salvation Army. My mover (part-time mover, full-time fireman) expressed interest in the table for a friend whose house recently burned down. If he doesn't want it, and he'll let me know this week, then I'll call the SA and see if they'll come pick it up. After that, just the extra-deep cleaning and I'm outta there.

I'd hoped to be mostly finished yesterday, but things didn't go as planned. For starters, I spent more time than I wanted to in line at the post office mailing some packages for friends and family. I kept forgetting things and having to go back to the car (and in one case, the hallmark store...forgot to get a card for someone) for them. By the time I got to the apartment, it was already past 2 o'clock. I had someone who was planning on helping me out, but they were genuinely not feeling well and needed a break, so I let them off the hook. I worked for a while and then decided to load some boxes into my truck. On the first pass I successfully made it to my car with my tiffany lamp and the glass/lead lamp from my bedroom. Second pass was like a comedy of errors, only minus the funny part. I'm sure I'll laugh in about a week when my body stops aching. See, I live(d) in a 3rd floor apartment. Before anyone feels too sorry for me, I chose it on purpose. At the time, I was in extra good shape, so the hike up the stairs was pretty painless. Plus I like having windows open at night when I sleep, and it just seemed safer doing so in a third floor apartment. So yesterday, as I was carrying down the second load, I fell partway down one flight of stairs. Nothing broken or sprained, unless you count my pride. I was a little wobbly after that, but tried to be careful, and I managed to make it all the way downstairs without further mishap. And then, after making it to the bottom floor, I tripped over my own big size 8 1/2 feet and fell down again. As before, my pride suffered more than any particular body part, but I got quite petulant and stomped back upstairs, grabbed my purse, and drove back home, crying half the way, like some melodramtic teenager who tripped and fell at prom. It was truly pitiful. I'm much better today and can at least laugh at my own histrionics. I'm so sorry for everyone who knows me!

When I got home last night, I got a little more of the same. I love my parents dearly, but it can be difficult feeling like a grown-up when I live with them. I pay rent and everything--not even particularly cheap rent--but I do feel twelve sometimes, and not a little defensive, when I'm approached with parental indignation. Let me stress this is my issue, not theirs. Last night I neglected to leave the garage light on when I got home, and I received a stern lecture about light-etiquette (we leave the lights on when others aren't home yet), to which I gave a snappish reply. I immediately apologized and cried a little more while my parents looked at me all "What in the world did we let ourselves in for???" I apologized again and that particular drama subsided, only to give way for another.

Have you ever seen "The Christmas Story?" The dad in that movie has a trash mouth you wouldn't believe. Every time he has to go downstairs to fix the furnace, he lets loose a string of profanity that would embarrass a sailor. Well, I always found that funny because my dad, an even-tempered, good-hearted man, always gets a bit profane when he's repairing/constructing items that seem not to want to be repaired/constructed. Last night, he began the (simple, right?) task of changing a light bulb in the fixture over the kitchen sink. Well the glass part broke off, leaving the twisty part in the fixture. Since the fixure is inset, my dad had trouble getting at the proper angle to remove the base of the bulb. He wound up removing the fixture so he could get at it, but then had the devil of a time reinstalling the fixture. Add to that my step-mother, loving and well-intentioned, proffering un asked-for advice and admonitions of safety. Concerned about his welfare, she kept trying to get him to stop and let her call our general contractor to come and replace the light fixture. Now I know my dad. The more you try and get him to stop something he KNOWS he can do if just concentrates hard enough, the more determined he becomes. Enter lots of profanity. Enter a wicked-angry stepmother. They nitpicked and I was very, very quiet. I know when to keep my mouth shut and that was definitely one of those times. Eventually, dad prevailed, there was residual nitpicking, an apology on both sides, and finally peace. Stepmom, in passing, told me to pull Baxter's (one of our two labs) bed in my room--a true concession, as there has been a bit of a power struggle between Stepmom and Baxter. Baxter decided, just about the moment I moved my first box in, that I was his person. That first night, he crept into my bedroom and slept by my side instead of my stepmother's, as he'd done for the last 3 years. Stepmom ordered him back into her room and he complied. For about five minutes. Then he crept back into my room and hid at angle from which he couldn't be seen at the doorway. Night two, stepmom put Baxter's bed back into their room and told him to stay in it. He got into the bed, to be sure, but he sat up on his honches and kept trying to sneak out. Finally, in exasperation, Stepmom told him he could go. He wouldn't. But he wouldn't lay down either, so she hollered, in great bitterness, for me to call my damn dog. I did and he slept by my bed again that night. So last night's immediate concession was a surprise. I expect rumblings of "you stole my damn dog" for a few months before things calm back down.

My family is crazy, but we love each other. That should count for something!

Anyway, as a result of yesterday's pouting fit, I'll be spending lots of today at the apartment, doing much of the work I'd intended on completing yesterday. I will be SO glad when all is finished. The apartment I lived in has truly gone downhill over the years and it's definitely time to be gone. It occurs to me that this very long post is my way of putting off the inevitable. So, I'll stop with babbling, now. Even though I'm sure I could think of more things to say. Why do I suddenly see ChaucerianGirl in my mind, shoving something caffienated in my hand and telling me to shut up and get to work?

Happy Birthday to Faith!!!

2006-12-08T07:24:00.000-08:00

I embarrass because I love. Happy Birthday to Faithie, the coolest sister a girl could have!!!

ETA--I've been instructed to add that today is Faith's 20th birthday...

Seen While Driving...

2006-12-08T07:21:00.000-08:00

A turbo-diesel Mercedes with the bumper sticker, "Humans Aren't the Only Species on Earth--We Just Think We Are." I'm sure he was quite sincere, but it would have been way more convincing on an eco-friendlier car.

I am judgmental. And mean.

Six Weird Things About Me

2006-12-07T18:44:00.000-08:00

I got tagged by Spin Doc, so here we go--

1. I'm an obsessive Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan. I know it's a stupid name, but it's an awesome show, and the title is part of the allure. I think Joss Whedon is a brilliant story-teller. I use two episodes to hook people-season 4 (Hush) and season 6 (Once More With Feeling). Only one person has failed to be swayed, but she doesn't particularly like that genre to begin with.

2. Speaking of Once More With Feeling, I'm a musical theatre buff and would much rather listen to musical soundtracks than most anything else. I like other types of music and I have an eclectic selection of CDs, but if I have to choose, it's gonna be a musical sound-track.

3. Like Spin-Doc, I'm kind of a kid about my birthday. However, I play it the opposite direction--too cool to bring it up. Which makes me very unreasonable when I become petulant when no one remembers...

4. I'm 35 (as of Dec. 11--ooh, look how I brought that up!) and I still have absolutely no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I wanted to be a school teacher, but that idea has lost appeal over the last few years. I'm almost 85% sure I want to go ahead and complete a MSW, which will enable me to move ahead in my current position. What can I say? I like my job.

5. I don't think it's all that weird, but everyone else is very surprised that I don't like strawberries, or for that matter, most berry-type of fruit. I don't know why. I just don't.

6. I am an actor, and a decent one even (I get parts anyway, have won acting awards/scholarships, and was recently invited to join a permenant ensemble for a local theatre), but I'm incredibly shy in person and freeze up in large groups. I can handle one on one and groups of 3 or 4, but any larger than that and I just freeze. I have no idea what to say or do and I usually wind up looking like the socially inept person that I am. My friends think this is strange, especially because I am extremely uninhibited on stage.

That's about all I can think of. I tag Faith!

Must be Christmas-time

2006-12-02T16:17:00.000-08:00

...because Santa just drove by. I'm at the theatre right now, which happens to be right in the heart of the downtown area. The parade of lights just began, and the streets surrounding the theatre and administrative offices are currently playing host to Santa and scores of parade floats. Clearly Santa is a big-wig as he had a full police escort. Either that or Santa's in some type of trouble.

I like parades. Other than the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, which I usually watch on television, I haven't been to a parade in more years than I can remember. I'm watching this one from the comfort of the administrative offices, but the streets are absolutely lined with people. They're selling those bright-light neon glow necklaces. I have no idea how they work, but I've always thought they're the coolest. Dad used to buy my siblings and I those at Six Flags and the state fair, and we were forever trying to figure out how to make the glowy last longer. We tried freezing them, but it never worked.

I went to dinner with my parents about an hour ago to Campo Verde. They're the BEST place to go to at Christmas time because they go all out with the lights. Seriously, it's so tacky, it almost transcends tackiness. They use over 100,000 lights and combine it with yards and yards of tinsely garland and Christmas sculpture. My stepmother's favorite is the animated three teddy bears who play "Little Drummer Boy" on the drums. Every time she sees them, she turns into a five-year old. She keeps keeps pressing play over and over and over and over... They had this Santa at the checkout, dressed in a white robe and white santa-suit with sparkly diamond buttons. I'm sure it wasn't the intention, but all he was lacking was a black felt hat with a feather in the rim, and he could have been pimp-daddy Santa. Good times.

I like this kind of stuff.

Hope all of you are doing well!

Happy Thanksgiving!!

2006-11-22T14:53:00.000-08:00

Probably won't have much time to post till next week, so just wanted to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving.

An Economy of Words

2006-11-20T15:37:00.000-08:00

You.
Can.
Only.
Type.
One.
Word.
No.
Explanations.
Not as easy as you might think...

1. Yourself: wistful
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend: delayed
3. Your hair: soft
4. Your mother/stepmother: brilliant
5. Your dog: slobbery
6. Your favorite item: books
7. Your dream last night: dreamless
8. Your favorite drink: refreshing
9. Your dream car: fun
10. The room you are in: office
12. Your fear: apathy
13. What you want to be in 10 years: published
14. Who you hung out with last night: family
15. What you're not: mean
16. Muffin: blueberry
17: One of your wish list items: iPod
18: Time: fleeting
19. The last thing you did: work
20. What you are wearing: warm
21. Your favorite weather: stormy
22. Your favorite book: Libris
23. The last thing you ate: banana
24. Your life: pause
25. Your mood: pensive
26. Your best friend(S): loyal
27. What are you thinking about right now? life
28. Your car: Xander
29. What are you doing at the moment?: typing
30. Your summer: sweltering
31. Your relationship status: hopeful
32. What is on your TV?: nothing
33. What is the weather like?: perfect
34. When is the last time you laughed?: meeting

Mumble Grumble?

2006-11-20T07:34:00.000-08:00

I'm in a blue funk. Or a black mood. Or some other really dark color that denotes pure cranky irritation.

I've been reflecting over life things--the stuff I worry or obsess about, but tend not to write in my blog because I never want to say anything in a public forum that I might regret. In that respect, I am the exact opposite from my sister's webfriend, Trista. Trista is very open and honest and entertaining and messy in the very best ways. I think that level of honesty takes a kind of courage I intrinsically lack. I think I'm too worried about what other people might think about me. That's stupid though--to worry about that. It's selfish, actually, because it tends toward a belief that every interaction I have with another is, in fact, totally about me, me, me. Sort of short-changes the people I spend my time with, doesn't it?

I know a lot of really amazing people. I could start with my sister, Faith, who is good, kind, loving, sweet, and the bestest, most loyal and true friend a girl could have. She has a wicked sense of humor that helps her keep her head above water. She's spent a lot of her life being the best friend and the good sister, but it seems like she's coming into her own now. She's taking much better care of herself than she used to. To me she's always been beautiful, but I don't think she ever believed it herself. Now, though, she's eating healthy and losing weight and it shows. We spent some time together on Saturday and she looks really, really good. Aside from that, she's always taken care of herself spiritually and intellectually. She's a voracious reader and she asks questions. I love her because she's my sister, but I'd love her anyway. She's just that kind of person.

I also have a terrific friend, M, who is quite possibly the funnest person I've ever met. I used to love it when M came to see my shows because she has the loudest, most delicious laugh that carried backstage. You can't hear that laugh and not laugh along with her. She's teaches Italian in both high school and college (as adjunct faculty). She's a great teacher--the sort of person Chaucer was thinking of when he wrote, "Gladly would he learne, and gladly teach." If there's something wonderful and brilliant worth knowing, then for her, it follows that if must be worth sharing. The day we became friends, we both skipped a sunday school lesson in order to commiserate over life's little d'ohs. One hour later we were fast friends. We don't talk as much lately, because she's working on her master's degree, teaching high-school full-time, and teaching an Italian Intro course at a local college. How's that for some natural gumption?

Then there's the people I see every day/week. I work with this amazing person who supports herself and her daughter on a university secretary income, without complaint--uncanny considering how poorly paid most university secretaries are. She's trying to put herself through school one class at a time, so she can be a math teacher. I know a professor who dedicates himself to work with domestic violence offenders--he spends frequent amounts of time outside of his academic work volunteering and trying to make a difference. I know an actor (artistic director) who donates a vast majority of his spare time to community concerns. He's a much beloved local artist who continually goes to bat for his theatre and for the arts in general. As an example, this last season the city cut arts funding, drastically reducing the amount his theatre would receive. He immediately went on the offensive, fund-raising like crazy, and granting interviews to local media, effectively shaming the city into reversing their decision. It's a good thing, too, as this artist runs a youth outreach program that really manages to make a difference. I know another artist who refuses to keep any of her profits. Every single show she's directed and produced has benefitted charities who work with victims of abuse. She's an amazing woman.

I'm saying all this because I get so wound up about little stupid things, that I forget how many people there are who make life beautiful--who give and give and give of themselves and never ask for something in return. They're people who are worth knowing and they make my petty worries and perceived slights look just this side of ridiculous.

So I could mumble, grumble, but instead I think I'll just be grateful for the people who strive to make the world a better place.

I hope all of you have a someone who inspires you. If you do, I'd love to hear about them.

Very Cool People

2006-11-16T09:10:00.000-08:00

I just clicked over to my friend, M's blog. She's been the amazing invisible woman lately, mostly because she's been so busy with school and work that she hasn't had much time for gossiping with me on the telephone. There was a post today! Yay!! I miss my friend.

But this brings an entirely new topic to light. You see, after reading M's wonderful post about the beauty of learning and the inherent rewards thereof, and after reading my sister's thought-provoking post of this morning, I feel like a shallow little blah with my Buffy-character-test and my silly reparte.

I am lame, but I do know very cool people.

The Sound of ...?

2006-11-16T07:44:00.000-08:00

It's a curious sound. Not at all irritating and heart-thumping, like a 16 year-old blasting his car stero as he drives by. (By the by, what makes 16 year-old boys think we have the same taste in music? Is it the "if it's too loud, you're too old" thing? I clearly am officially too old.) It also does not resemble the dulcet tones of my supervisor, sitting immediately to my right, discussing the ins and outs of certification policy ALL DAY LONG. (I actually really like my supervisor, so it's not that big of a deal, but still--supervisors are much better, by and large, when they aren't peering over your shoulder all day.) The sound--it lacks--what is it? It lacks...sound.

And there you have it. Other than the click-clack of my keyboard, I appear to have been awarded blessed silence today. It's an unusual phenomena. I like.

And now, rereading the above, I have to laugh. A friend sent me a link for a "Which Buffy Character Are You" quiz (results in the post below), and I was really disappointed that I'd scored Rupert. I was hoping for Buffy or Willow, strong female characters I particularly admire. As it turns out, I'm more like the librarian than I realized. That's not so bad. For starters, Tony Head, who plays Rupert, is really, really pretty. S'okay to have things in common with someone that pretty. Plus, hey, Ripper kicks lots of ass.

Anyway, I'm glad for the quiet--all the better since I have lots of work, piles actually, just sitting around waiting to be done! Guess I should do this thing, this job, they pay me for...

That's Right--I'm Rupert to My Friends (Ripper to the Rest of You...)

2006-11-16T07:39:00.000-08:00

Rupert Giles
72% amorality, 36% passion, 81% spirituality, 63% selflessness

Utterly calm and resolute in the face of danger, utterly devoted to his loved ones and comrades in arms, and utterly willing to do what is necessary to ensure that good overcomes evil. Giles knows the score, he knows that sometimes virtue relies on good men getting a little messy, and he's willing to take that on himself, largely so that others don't have to.

You might share some of that.

You most closely resemble one of the most popular heroes in the Buffy universe.

Congratulations!

If you enjoyed this test, I would love the feedback! Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in the following:

Nerds, Geeks & Dorks

Professional Wrestling

Love & Sexuality

America/Politics

Thanks Again! -- THE 4-VARIABLE BUFFY PERSONALITY TEST

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 76% on morality

You scored higher than 2% on repose

You scored higher than 84% on spirituality

You scored higher than 71% on selflessness

Link: The 4-Variable Buffy Personality Test written by donathos on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

NaNo NoMo

2006-11-13T08:45:00.000-08:00

I'd signed up with NaNo to write a novel in the month of November. I did pretty well the first week--got up to 5K words by Saturday the 4th. And then...

I got sick. Frackin' upper respiratory infection.

I spent the better part of last week huddled under blankets in bed hacking and coughing like a little old woman nursing a 60-year, three pack-a-day habit. Went to the doctor on Tuesday afternoon. He prescribed a Z-pak (antibiotics) and this horse-sized pill that caused much pain every time I took it.

Aside from the cough that will not go away, I'm feeling better now, which is good, but I seriously doubt I'll be able to catch up enough to fulfill NaNo. On the other hand, I did get 5K words in and I have a nice start on something I think is pretty good. Silly. But good fun. So I'll work on it as much as possible and see what happens.

Have lots of work to catch up on, so I'm outta here!

It's A Good Day (but not in a squicky television medical prescription ad kind of way)

2006-11-02T07:00:00.000-08:00

It was cold this morning. Don’t mock me, Yankees. In Texas 38 degrees is cold. It’s sweater weather, and as a side effect, I was seriously craving some hot chocolate this morning. So I left my apartment early and drove to QT. When I got there, an employee was cleaning up the coffee/hot chocolate station, taking out the garbage, etc, so I politely stood aside and waited for the employee to finish—no rush or anything. Gradually a little line built up behind me and the moment the employee had finished, we rushed as one large caffeine-deprived mass to the coffee. It was like 6:00 a.m. at Wal Mart the day after Thanksgiving. I was scared for my life.

Anyway, I noticed this man watching me out of the corner of his eye. When he noticed me noticing, he blushed, looked the opposite direction, and appeared to engross himself in reading the ingredients of the dairy creamer packet he was holding. I wondered if there was perhaps something wrong with my appearance. Any toilet paper stuck to my shoe? Nope. Fly undone? Nope. The hair was okay. I actually styled it this morning instead of throwing it in a ponytail and calling it a day. The skin is even okay at the moment—nothing bumpy that would in any way remotely resemble a zit. After the quick self-check, I looked up and again noticed him watching me. He gave me kind of a goofy half-smile and wave and then ambled out of the store.

And then it occurred to me that maybe he thought I was cute. Now see, I’m not unattractive, but I live in Texas, where all the women are really coiffed. I’m not the sort of person who coifs. I wear blue jeans as much as possible and have a long and proud history of making virtually no effort on my hair beyond the basic wash/condition/brush regimen. This isn’t false pride. I’m not a babe. So the thought that maybe some stranger thought I was sort of cute, sort of makes my day.

Happy Halloween!!

2006-10-31T07:51:00.000-08:00

I'm eating candy corn right now, even as I type. I am, in fact, eating the superior Brach's candy corn. I used to think candy corn was just candy corn, until my sister and I purchased the Target brand candy corn. It was awful!! Too sweet and something was lacking. I'd try to describe the something lacking, but that would require me to eat more Target brand candy corn and I have no desire to do so. Don't get me wrong. Target rocks. If I must spend all my dinero at any one of those big box stores, I totally pick Target. But their candy corn sucks. Just saying. If you're in the candy corn market, do not stray from Brach's. Also, no, I don't work for Brach's.

I'm not in costume for Halloween, but my sister is. She and I have had this discussion before, but the primary reason I don't do Halloween costumes, generally speaking, is because I dress up in costume for theatre so frequently. Dressing up at Halloween feels like work. Although I certainly get a kick out of seeing everyone else's costume, I just don't like dressing up myself. That does not make me a Halloween Scrooge.

I haven't seen Faithie in costume. Unfortunately, I'm not able to meet her for lunch today like we both wanted, but I bet she looks great. She borrowed my theatre make-up kit and turned herself into a zombie. It was supposed to be a vampire, but she tells me the fangs wouldn't stay. Zombies are way better anyway. You can get extra-disgusting with the make-up, which is always good fun.

Anyway, Happy Halloween. Hope you all have a splendidly scary day filled to the brim with superior Brach's candy corn! If you're trick or treating, I wish you chocolate!!

S-Project: Blind Date

2006-10-30T15:13:00.000-08:00

This is my latest submission for the S-Project. I've managed to make myself sound really horrible and extra blah-like in this story, but in defense of myself, I was falling head over heels in love with another person at the time, and stupidly allowed myself to be bullied into keeping a blind date that had been set much earlier. Although I seriously doubt we would have hit it off even if I hadn't been all gooey over someone else, the guy was a decent guy who deserved a better date.

Blind Date

He considered himself handsome enough. He was tall, clean-shaven, except for a neatly trimmed mustache he’d grown his senior year of high school just to prove he could. He wasn’t some unemployed schmoe. He made a decent living working in construction, came from a friendly, if somewhat chaotic, family, and he was nice. Damn nice and encouraging, so what, he wondered, was her freaking problem? She was just sitting there, all distracted like maybe she had other places she’d rather be.

She was named Elizabeth, and she was the Assistant Manager in the little jewelry store his sister-in-law, Susie, managed. Susie was the one who suggested and then set-up the date. She’d sworn up and down that Elizabeth was smart, funny, engaging, and lots of fun. And hot too. Red-hot. As he expected, Susie had exaggerated, but even so, she was still pretty in a sort of garden variety way—long brown hair, big blue eyes, and when she bothered to, she had a nice smile with straight, even teeth.

He’d taken her to a Mexican restaurant before the movie, and they’d had a little stilted conversation, mostly initiated by him. They’d shared the basics—hometown, number of siblings, favorite food (she liked Mexican, so that was good), favorite color, etc., but the conversation had dwindled and he was relieved when the waiter dropped off the check.

He was glad they’d be finishing their date at the movie theatre. He’d purchased tickets earlier in the day for Silence of the Lambs. He’d heard it was really good, and besides, in his experience, women liked the scary movies because it gave them an excuse to move a little closer. Fat chance of that, he reflected, remembering the fleeting ill-concealed expression of distaste that crossed her face at the mention of the film.

“It got really great reviews,” he persisted.

“That’s what I heard,” she said, smiling lightly. But he could tell she was apprehensive.

“Don’t you like scary movies?” he asked, incredulously. Of course she likes scary movies. Everyone likes scary movies, he thought.

“I don’t dislike them,” she said. He could tell she hated them, but was trying to be nice. “Really,” she insisted. “I like suspense—I’m not much for gore, though. But I’m sure this will be great.”

“You’re gonna like it, I promise,” he said.

He searched for another topic and came up empty. He figured any conversation about politics would bore her. He knew enough to avoid religion, at least on the first date, and sports were out of the question. The only sport worth anything was basketball, and the season was already over. Besides he didn’t really figure her for being much of a sports nut. Popcorn, he thought, brightening. Maybe she wants popcorn.

“Hey, you want some popcorn?” he asked hopefully.

“Oh, thank you, but no. I’m still full from dinner.”

He didn’t see how that was possible as she hadn’t actually eaten much of anything at the restaurant. A couple of chips with salsa, half a chicken enchilada, two bites of rice, and no beans. He’d wound up finishing her meal as well as his own. He wasn’t really hungry, either, but he needed a way to blow some time before the movie started up.

“I think I’m going to need some popcorn,” he told her, grinning. “Movie gore always makes me hungry.” He knew it was kind of a stupid joke, but she laughed politely anyway.

She was certainly very polite.

He’d hoped for a long line and utter inefficiency at the concession stand, but for once, he was disappointed. He was back in only a few minutes with an extra large bag of popcorn and two sodas. “I got you diet coke. That’s what you drank at dinner, so I figured you liked it,” he finished lamely.

“I do like it, thank you,” she replied. And then she smiled at him. Damn, she had a nice smile. Maybe she was just shy, he thought. Or maybe she just thinks I’m an idiot. Oh, hell, who cares? I wish I hadn’t let Susie talk me into this.

At last, the theatre darkened and the blessed sound of Dolby erupted from the speakers.

Later, on the drive home, he asked her how she liked the film.

“It was good,’ she said. “Gory.”

“There’s that word again,” he said. “So you really didn’t like it, then? Be honest,” he implored. And to his surprise, she was.

“I didn’t. I think the film was well-made and the acting was terrific. I can recognize that, but it isn’t a genre of film I particularly care for.”

“So what do you like?” he persisted. “Dramas, romances, action?”

“I don’t really go for any genre unconditionally. I just like good movies, I guess.”

“But this was a good movie,” he said.

She flashed that smile again and he wondered once more if she was maybe just shy. “You have a really nice smile,” he told her as he pulled up to her apartment building.

She flushed, then thanked him. Abruptly, she said, “I’m sorry this wasn’t a very good date. It’s my fault.”

He began to deny that it was, but gave up in the middle of the attempt. “Wasn’t one of my better ones,” he agreed. “But why do you think it was your fault? I mean, I could have at least asked you which movie you wanted to see instead of assuming you’d like whatever I chose.”

“It is my fault,” she asserted. “It’s not you, okay? Susie meant well. It’s me.”

He nodded as she said good night and climbed out of the car. So no kiss, then? He’d always hated that whole it’s-not-you-it’s-me thing. What a cop-out. He shook his head and drove home.

He’d barely shut the door behind him, when his telephone rang. It was Susie, apologizing profusely. Clearly she’d already spoken with Elizabeth. “Listen,” she said, “it’s my fault. I should have canceled everything—see Elizabeth just reconnected with an old friend a couple of days ago. Some guy she used to be totally hung up on. I’m so sorry,” she finished.

“Susie,” he began.

“I know,” she said.

“Never, again” they said in unison.

Daylight Savings: An Exercise in D'oh

2006-10-30T13:34:00.000-08:00

It’s been one of those super busy days today and it seems like everyone I’ve spoken with is sort of in a bad mood and ready to take it out on anyone they come into contact with. I’m chalking it up to daylight savings. In the interest of full disclosure, this is the daylight savings I really like—where I get an extra hour of sleep, instead of being unceremoniously gypped from much-needed beauty-sleep. I’m not kidding. I need all the help I can get! I just think it’s difficult for people having to readjust their internal clocks—makes everyone a little cranky. You have to mentally reset for important things like lunch-time (I was really hungry by 11:30), plus the day TOTALLY drags. It feels like 4:30, but it's only 3:30, and suddenly 5:00 seems a zillion hours away.

Those people in Arizona, who don’t practice daylight savings, are brilliant!

The Post You're About to Read

2006-10-17T13:07:00.000-07:00

I just paid $1.99/gallon for gasoline. I know it could have been purchased even more cheaply had I the inclination to drive around and look for a better price, but I still feel pretty good about the $1.99. I actually managed to fill up my tank (I have a Ford Escape) for only $26.00!! What completely stinks is that just before gas prices went way up, I had a cute little economical Honda Civic coupe. Hindsight is 20/20. Hindsight is also kind of an annoying know-it-all who spends too much time with that Monday morning quarterback dude. I'm not sure who is a worse influence on who. (Or should that be "whom?" To speak English good is not my strong point.)

I'm in the process of moving. I'd intended to move late December, but the apartment complex I live in has sort of gotten scary. I'm moving in with my parents. Before proceeding further I feel compelled to holler, "I PAY RENT!!!!" I may be a little sensitive, but 30 year olds who live with Mom and Dad tend to be mocked. I'll be heading back to grad school shortly and I'd already determined I needed to find a roommate. My parents offered themselves.

For some unfathomable reason, my parents insist they absolutely love having me there. This may have something to do with the aforementioned rent I pay as well as my willingness to do just about any chore thrown my direction. I'm one of those people who find it difficult to sit still if someone else is moving around. My stepmother is one of those people who find it difficult to sit still, period. The end result is she gets a lot of help from me. She likes that. Ergo, she likes having me there. Plus I get along with my parents. I'd actually like them a bunch even if we weren't related. So I feel fine about living with them. Which, naturally, explains the last 2 paragraphs justifying the decision!

Anyway, my sister came over after work yesterday to bully me into packing. I'm a very tidy person, but I'm a born packrat. Every nook and cranny is filled with STUFF. I have too much stuff. So Faithie came over to nag, um I mean bully, no wait, I mean help me by insisting I get rid of things that the little packrat in me wants to hang on to.

We came across an envelope filled with pictures from a trip we took a few years ago to visit our mother and stepfather. A lot of the pictures were of Alicia, our little sister, who died last January. There were also a great many pictures of Alicia's daughter, our neice. I'm glad Faith was there because I'm afraid I would have gotten maudlin over them. As it was, there were a couple of moments where we both just stopped for a moment to remember. She was a pretty girl. I miss her!

Okay, stuff to get rid of. Gotta go!

S-Project - Writing On the Wall

2006-10-16T12:13:00.000-07:00

This is my latest submission for the Sheherazade Project. As always, comments and critique are welcome!

“I’ll be just a minute,” she yelled as she darted into the girls’ bathroom. “I’m serious,” she continued, “don’t you dare go on that ride without me!”

She wrinkled her nose in distaste as she entered an empty stall. She wasn’t fastidious about cleanliness or anything, but even her slob of a fifteen year old brother would have thought the bathroom needed some work. The stalls were painted avocado green and were covered with graffiti detailing the love lives of numerous past inhabitants. Grace and Andrew equaled tru love 4-ever, while Cindy clearly no longer loved Jimmy as his name had been scratched out so vociferously it almost wasn’t legible.

Hmmm, she thought, wonder what he did. Probably cheated on her with some cute freshman with more boobs than brain. Probably someone named Lindsey or Sherri or some other cutesy-dumb name. If she’d had the time for self-reflection, she would have supposed her grapes were just a little sour, having recently gone through a similar experience. But amusement park bathrooms weren’t exactly an ideal spot for self-reflection, and truth be told, she was kind of in a hurry.

She reached for the bathroom tissue and was dismayed to find the roll empty.
“Hello?” she said tentatively. “Anyone here? Anyone at all?” She trailed off. Of all the times for the bathroom to be empty. I’ll wait a minute, she thought. This is a busy park. Someone’s bound to come in any moment now.

To her left, a conversation had been scratched into the wall. Someone had written “Metallica RULZ.” Another someone had helpfully scratched out “rulz” and offered a correction, “rules.” Below that, someone else forcefully exclaimed “F*&% you, you stoopid whore!!!!!!!!!!!!” She laughed in spite of herself. How like some illiterate jackass to call someone she doesn’t even know a whore. Idiot. Sure did spend a lot of time scratching in those exclamation marks.

She noted that Charlotte loved Gary. Charlotte also loved Christopher, Bill, Brad, Kenneth, and Mike. Wow. Charlotte’s prolific.

And then she noticed it written in one of those shiny gold metallic ink pens. “Lindsey Anderson will do anything and anyone.” And the phone number was written below. Lindsey. She smirked. She totally deserves it. I hate her. She wondered if that really was Lindsey’s phone number. She reached up and pulled her purse off the hook, found her cell phone and dialed the number.

“Hello,” said a female voice on the other end. She didn’t respond.

“Hello,” Lindsey said again. “Is anyone there? Please? Stop it!! Stop calling me and hanging up. It isn’t funny” She sounded near tears.

Just then April and Gail bounded into the restroom. “Did you fall in?? What’s the deal?”

She hung up on Lindsey and answered her friends. “There’s no toilet paper in here-get some for me, okay.”

“Oh, you are so lucky I am your friend,” said April as she passed her some toilet paper from the neighboring stall. “I could so totally strand you in here.”

She laughed. “Someone else would eventually come and rescue me. Go on outside with the others. I’ll be out in just a sec.”

“Okay,” said April. “Hurry up, okay? Man, this place stinks.”

Halleluiah, she thought. I am SO glad they came in here. She finished up, washed her hands, and met her friends outside. They hadn’t gone 20 feet before she realized she’d left her purse in the bathroom.

“Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

Luckily the purse was right on the hook where she’d left it. She grabbed it and started to leave the stall, but stopped suddenly. Very deliberately, she pulled out her nail file and scratched over the metallic writing so it was no longer legible.

“I still hate you and I still think you’re a bitch,” she whispered. “Just so you know.”

Free Lunch and Other Thoughts

2006-10-12T12:12:00.000-07:00

I’ve now received two emails asking if I’m okay. I guess that means I should probably update, mostly because I think I only have 2 readers and that constitutes 100% of my blog-buddy base!! So, here’s an update…

I’m great! Thanks for asking.

I love free lunch. Really, I love getting anything free, but free lunch is especially fun. Today was our annual Faculty Flipper, wherein faculty from the SSW grill burgers, veggie burgers, and hot dogs for the students and staff. I kind of enjoy giving them a hard time. For example:

Izzybella: Um, excuse me? This burger is over-cooked. It’s practically black. I could build a house out of these burgers. I want a refund.

Professor: (dryly) Sure, Izzybella. You can have a refund. In fact, I’ll give you 3 times what you paid. Will that make you happy?

Izzybella: Oh, I guess. That and can I also have a cookie?

Yes, I’m 12. And a dork. In case you were wondering. I tried sitting outside at the tables they’d set up, but it was too cold. And did I mention how pleasant it was to be too cold for once? This has been an extraordinarily hot summer and today is the first day we’ve had high temperatures in the 60s. At the moment, it’s a positively goose-bump inducing 64 degrees. I’m actually wearing a light jacket. Really, it’s very exciting.

Clearly it takes very little to make me happy.

Today is my Friday! I’m playing hooky from work tomorrow to go shopping with my parents. My stepmonster has been talking about doing this for quite a while and finally decided on Friday. She picked a great day for it. Aside from the extremely pleasant weather we’re having, it’s a busy week for me and I could use a day off. The theatre I work part-time at is having their annual fundraiser tonight and my sister and I volunteered to work their box office. Then I’m working the Friday and Saturday night shows, so between all that and my full-time job, a little wandering around a pretty outdoor shopping center sounds like good fun.

The Juarez, Mexico trip will be next weekend. I just realized this week that this will be the first time I’ve ever been out of the United States. I’m a little worried about the whole language barrier thing. Vanessa will translate for us, probably after the fact, but I’m interested to see how much I’m able to understand without speaking the language. I’m talking in terms of human emotion/grief here—I don’t have enough of a grasp on the language to understand even on a rudimentary level. But certain emotions are universal amongst the human race, and having just gone through the grieving process with my little sister’s death, I wonder how much I will recognize. I hope that makes sense.

Okay, I updated. I’ll update again soon. Off to visit my blog-buddies…

Random Thought and a Rant

2006-09-29T09:54:00.000-07:00

It’s such a pretty day today. We had a cold front come through and the temperature is supposed to top out at about 79. That, and the cool breeze, makes this the perfect day to be outside, which, naturally, means I am currently inside. I’m having a slow moment at work right now, but they frown upon me leaving my desk merely to frolic in the outdoors. Apparently, they would rather I be available via telephone and email to the clients I serve. How rude. I think it’s very unreasonable of them to expect me to actually do the job they’re paying me for. (Kidding, of course.)

So, there was an article in today’s student newspaper about the theatre I work at part-time. Headline: AFTER 11 YEARS, THEATRE FINDS SHOW SUCCESS. Now I found this very interesting, if only because the theatre in question has had 34 extremely successful seasons and is, in fact, one of the most popular theatres in the D/FW area. Actors, designers, and directors from this particular theatre have been nominated for multiple area awards, as well as numerous “Best Of” community awards given by daily and weekly newspapers—and the shows I’ve worked have all, with one or two exceptions, been sell-out shows. So I just had to laugh at the story’s slant of under-dog theatre finally finding great success.

The Box Office manager just barely called me, and it seems that what the newspaper reporter was actually told was something along the lines of “The last time we revived Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat was 11 years ago.” Clearly the newspaper reporter wasn’t paying careful attention. I’m not surprised, as the paper has a reputation for misquoting people. One of them was a friend of mine from the theatre department, who was giving an interview about a series of intensive Shakespeare scenes the department was producing and opening up to the public. The article provided a quotation from the play my friend was directing—the problem was, the quotation was actually from a different Shakespeare play. It was like the interviewer just googled “Shakespeare” and plugged in the first quotation she found. We laughed about it, but my friend was really annoyed because the interviewer credited the inaccurate quotation to her.

Anyway, I think the funniest part of the article this morning was the following, almost certainly misquoted: “[He said] he did not expect so much of the play to be set to music, but that it added to the appeal.” It’s a MUSICAL. He has to have been misquoted, right? Am I being unjust? Not everyone is the theatre dork I am…

Wow. I had no idea that rant was coming. Yikes. Sorry. Moving on.

I’m glad it’s Friday. It’s been one of those weeks where Friday just can’t come soon enough. Faith and I are planning a sister’s night out tonight. We’ve been talking about going to a movie for ages, but we haven’t had time. I kind of want to see The Illusionist, so hopefully that will happen.

Okay, I now have work to do, so I guess I’d better do it.

S-Project--A Slow Sort of Bad

2006-09-27T15:45:00.000-07:00

This is my latest submission for the S-Project. I don't think it's very good. Maybe I'll do another one later...and, just in case, NO! :) This is not autobiographical. Nor is it biographical. At least, as far as I know.

“Nathan is a funny guy—incredible sense of humor. I feel compelled to mention that because anyone watching him right now would think he’s nothing but a huge ball of self-contained stress and rage.” The woman just looked at me, doubt evident in the down-turned lines of her face. Clearly, she wasn’t buying it. Who could blame her really? Wasn’t like he was going out of his way to prove me right, sitting over there, chin in his hands, facial expression carved out of stone. Moody bastard.

I don’t know why I felt responsible to apologize for Nathan’s rudeness. To be honest, we weren’t even that close. The dorm RA assigned him to me and we got along okay, but we didn’t exactly hang out. Nathan was a funny guy—I wasn’t lying about that, but he had a mean streak that had definitely asserted itself that afternoon. The woman had gotten the brunt of it just because she had the audacity to ask him how he was doing, all chirpy-like. He wasn’t doing well, is how he was. The woman seemed nice, like someone’s favorite aunt, and truthfully, Nathan isn’t usually such a prick. He had a good reason for being in a bad mood at least.

“I realize he genuinely looks like a very unpleasant person, but I promise you, he’s the exact opposite. He’s a puppy. He’s a great big fluffy kitty-cat. He’s one of those plush overstuffed teddy-bears little kids create at that store in the mall. You know the one? Where they sew little hearts inside the teddy-bear so he’ll love you forever and ever? That’s Nathan. I swear.”

She rolled her eyes, picked up a magazine and made her way to an uncomfortable looking sofa in the exact opposite corner of the room. Okay, so I was dismissed. No sweat. Happened all the time.

I glanced over at Nathan. When we arrived, he’d picked up the sports section from a newspaper someone had left behind, but it hadn’t done much to distract him, and he’d eventually tossed it aside.

“How much longer, do you think?” I asked him.

“Dude. Stop asking me that. I don’t know.”

He was driving me crazy. I wished I hadn’t agreed to drive him, or at least that I hadn’t agreed to stay and wait. Wasn’t like I was the one who-

“NATHAN BEARD,” someone called from the reception desk.

He shot me one quick panicked look, and then ambled over to the nurse like he had all the time in the world. I watched as he disappeared behind the swinging doors.

I was glad he’d gone because he was seriously bringing the entire waiting room down. It wasn’t exactly fun sitting there, but it was better then sitting there with him. This has to be one of the longest hours I have ever lived.

I looked for something to read, but there wasn’t really anything good. The only magazines they had were the type of magazines my mom reads: People, Ladies Home Journal, stuff like that. I stared out the window for a while-did a little people watching. The woman in the corner got called in; other patients came and went. Finally, I picked up the sports section Nathan had abandoned and began to read. I’d almost finished it when Nathan came out, red-faced and strangely subdued.

“So?” I asked.

“I gotta wait,” he mumbled. “Test results will be available in about 48 hours.”

Dude, I thought. Forty-eight hours? And I gotta live with him? This is gonna be a slow sort of bad.

Heroes

2006-09-26T07:19:00.000-07:00

Last night I saw the premiere of the new NBC series, Heroes. So. Good. I really enjoyed it. The series is about a group of people entering the next stage of evolution (how very X-Men light). There's a guy who can fly, one who can bend the time/space continuum and teleport, an artist who reflects future events in his painting; a woman whose mirror image can take control of her body for brief periods of time; and an indestructible cheerleader who, in the first episode, jumps off an 80-foot beam, runs through fire, and, on purpose, sticks her hand in the garbage disposal, only to emerge unscathed.

Each character is just beginning to realize something about him/herself isn't quite right, and they seem to have an instinctive idea as to what it is that makes them different. It's like watching a bunch of different origin stories all in one show. I tend to enjoy superhero origin stories, so this was just kind of fun. I especially liked the guy who can bend space/time. He's so genuinely delighted with his new-found skill. It's very charming!

They unabashedly embraced the comic-bookiness of the concept and they even managed to surprise me in one segment. The concept is so unbelievably cheesy, but they're really making it work. I hope the show has some staying power, because the story intrigues me. Previews for next week's episode have one of the characters finding a comic book that appears to feature himself as the main character having the adventures he had in the first episode of the series. I'm actually looking forward to next Monday night. How very strange. :)

Anyway, I recommend. NBC is airing an encore of the premiere tonight

Box Office Drama Goes Bust

2006-09-25T12:40:00.000-07:00

Apparently I was being over-dramatic. Would I ever?

The box office/house manager sent me a very nice e-mail that included phrases like "I ADORE YOU (her caps, not mine)" and "you are extraordinary."

There's a lesson to be learned here and that lesson is melodrama will score you many fine compliments.

Oh, I'm just kidding.

How to Get Fired From Your Part-Time Live Theatre Box-Office Job

2006-09-25T08:12:00.000-07:00

1. Accidentally give a season subscriber last year's add-on ticket price instead of this year's.

2. Compound the error by charging last year's play add-on ticket price instead of last year's musical add-on ticket price (musicals cost more than plays simply because they cost more to produce).

2. Get confused with the Buy 1 ticket, Get 1 free offer in the newspaper and wind up under-charging 4 tickets for a total of $20.00

3. Stand like a deer-in-headlights when an unhappy theatre patron complains very loudly because you gave away her tickets to someone on the waiting list when she failed to arrive on time.

4. Go against theatre policy by returning said theatre patron's 4 season tickets to her season ticket pool. This makes the theatre patron happy again, but will assuredly annoy the house manager.

5. Set the alarm off while leaving the theatre.

6. Do all this in one Sunday matinee.

No, I didn't get fired. Yet. But I should be! There I am trying to balance the ticket stubs against the sales in Wintix (the computerized ticket program the theatre uses), only to find that the reason it isn't balancing is because I am a moron!

I realize to err is human, etc., but this was a ridiculous amount of "do'h!" for one four hour block of time.

On the plus side, I passed by the theatre on my way to my full-time job this morning, and it was still standing. So I guess I feel good about that!

Creating Life

2006-09-25T07:57:00.000-07:00

Sam Wright, the author of a blog I visit on a weekly basis, has a terrific new project up called Jacquie's Journal. Jacquie is Sam's sister, who died before he was even born. The goal of the project is to give life to Jacquie since she didn't get to have one. Sam is inviting all writers to participate and write about the sister he didn't get to know. It's a personal favor from Sam to Jacquie. Click here for rules and submission guidelines.

Long may Jacquie live!

Scheherazade Project-"Facing a Hard Truth About Bergamot" or "Gee, That Izzybella Sure Does Cheat!"

2006-09-22T08:27:00.000-07:00

So here I am trying desperately to feel inspired for the Scheherazade Project. We have a choice of themes this go-round: someone faces a hard truth or “What is bergamot anyway?”

Inspiration is lacking.

Before yesterday afternoon, I didn’t actually know what bergamot was. I vaguely recall having seen the word in one of the many magazines I subscribe to. Maybe a perfume ad? Something with essence of bergamot? I looked it up in my dictionary a couple of days ago, but my pocket Oxford failed me. I was crushed. Bergamot was nowhere to be found. Yesterday at lunch with my sister, I learned what a bergamot is when I cleverly asked, “What is a bergamot anyway?” Apparently it’s a type of orange, rich in anti-oxidants and used in Earl Gray tea. It is, incidentally, also used in many perfumes to add a vaguely citrus aroma. My sister chose the “What is bergamot anyway” theme for her submission and wrote an excellent “oh, snap!” story putting an overbearing oenophile in his place. By the way, for the benefit of those of you hoping it was autobiographical, it wasn’t. Still. She’s a deft, snarky one, isn’t she? I like my sister.

So now I knew whereof I spoke when I spoke of bergamot. Yet still, I lacked inspiration. Clearly, there are times when knowledge is not, in fact, power. It is instead useless facts rattling around in an uninspired head.

“Bergamotbergamotbergamot.” Even saying it quickly three times in succession like plimco didn’t help.

It occurred to me that I must face the hard truth: my submission for this issue of the Scheherazade Project has been hampered by an extreme lack of inspiration and writer’s block.

I surrender.

A Super-flo-us Post

2006-09-13T09:50:00.000-07:00

So, based on this post made on my sister's blog (second to the last paragraph), she and I have been emailing back and forth this morning about the words we have mispronounced in our day. For your reading pleasure (all 1 of you), here are a few:

Me:
Gawain, as in Sir Gawain, which started this entire thing. Apparently, it's pronounced GOW-an, like COW-an. Who knew? Besides my sister, I mean. And probably my friend, Melissa.

Super-Flo-Us for superfluous--the first time I heard it pronounced correctly, I actually said, "don't you mean super-flo-us?" Oh, yes, I am that dumb.

Chamomile. I used the lesser-known "ch" pronunciation.

Hors d'oeuvre. Okay, I shouldn't be too hard on myself, here. After all, it is technically a foreign language. But I was very embarrassed when I was corrected at my father and step-monster's wedding reception. (step-monster used here affectionately--I call her that to her face every time we speak)

Finally, the name Wakefield. As a child, I pronounced it Wak-a-field. My sister corrected me. And then she laughed at me. She still laughs when she remembers it.

And to make myself feel better....

My sister pronounced Achilles, using the "ch" sound instead of the "k" sound.

I feel better already.

Some Sweet Firefly Fan Fiction

2006-09-13T08:32:00.000-07:00

I'm not a reader of fan fiction, by and large. I've read some and usually I don't like them. They rarely capture the voice of the character or creator. I just think a better creative exercise would be to create a character of one's own and have fun thataway. But I do get the conceit of the fan fiction, and even though I choose not write my own, it doesn't particularly bother me that others get into the culture. I don't think less of them as writers.

So yesterday, I was visiting Whedonesque, as I do every day. Love Joss. Anyway, Saje, a frequent poster, shilled this Firefly fan-fic. Now, I don't post at all because usually by the time I get to a thread someone has already said what I wanted to say, and usually said it better. Saje is one of those I enjoy reading, so I figured if he was recommending it, it was probably decent. So I read.

SO VERY GOOD. Title: The Ice in Crystal. Author: juliefortune. Good stuff. If you are a fan of Firefly/Serenity, go read.

It Wasn't An Accident, Was It?

2006-09-11T06:38:00.000-07:00

She was standing at my office door, eyes wide, a fearful expression on her face. "This plane crashed into one of the towers in New York, " she began.

"I know," I interrupted. I heard about it on the news while I was getting ready for work this morning. "How awful."

"No," she said. "I mean, yes, it is awful, but I was talking about the other one."

"The other one?" I asked, confused.

"There's two planes," she said, her voice faltering. "And more, I think...I just saw your door open and thought you should know."

I didn't even know her. She was just one of the many students I encounted in my job at the university. But here she was standing at my doorway looking lost and scared. My sister, Faith, who at the time shared the cubicle next to mine walked out into the common area of our office.

"Where did you hear this?" she asked the girl.

"It's on the news. It's just-- I thought you should know."

Faith and I looked at one another, then without speaking, I followed Faith back into her cubicle and watched as she tried pulling CNN up in the internet. "There's nothing," she said, "the system must be overloaded right now." She swore. "I want to know what's going on."

So we walked up and down the hallway and poked our heads into classrooms. Lectures had ended abruptly; students and professors alike were using the recently installed smart-classrooms to access the local news media on television. There we saw the first images that were horrifying the nation. Faith and I had always been very close, but not especially touchy-feely-huggy. That day I grasped her hand and we stood like that for several minutes before leaving the classroom and walking back to our shared office.

I don't remember which of us asked the other, "It wasn't an accident, was it?"

Later we took a walk across campus. Everyone we saw looked the way we felt-numb. Strangers were comforting one another. People wept openly. One student walked toward us with purpose.

"I'm giving blood," she said. "I'm going right now. A lot of us are. You should come if you want."

Faith smiled, "It's a really good idea," she said.

"It's the only thing I know what to do," said the girl.

So Faith and I went back to the office and got the rest of the afternoon off. Our supervisor thought it was a good idea, and anyway she said, "no one is going to get any work done today. It's too much."

When Faith and I arrived at Carter Bloodcare, the line to give literally stretched around the block. They were actually sending people away, asking us to come back later. To please really come back because our blood would be needed. We promised we would.

Later we sat talking everything over. Neither of us knew anyone in New York. Neither of us lost anyone we loved. Neither of us had ever even visited New York. We'd wanted to. It was on a long list of places we-must-see. We just hadn't yet. Most importanly, we were together-sisters and best friends and we still had time. So why, we wondered, did it hurt so much? We felt guilty, almost, for hurting when the media bombarded us with images of Americans who'd truly lost everything.

Today, five years later, I remember those images and feelings with perfect clarity. I remember getting a phone call from my mother, a rare occurrence as she tends to prefer emailing. She just wanted Faith and I to know that she loved us. I think a lot of families took 9/11 as an excuse to set aside conflicts and old relationship barriers and say words they'd been wanting to say for years. I remember watching the news every single night, reading Time and Newsweek, just trying to make sense out of something so horrible. I remember walking on campus with my sister and seeing an all-American blonde WASP type screaming with hatred at a Muslim woman wearing traditional veils. I remember Faith offering the Muslim woman quiet words of comfort after the enraged woman stormed off. I remember the phone call I received from J cancelling play rehearsal that day. I was playing Dunyasha in Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard. It was just as well that it was cancelled because my chosen profession suddenly seemed incredibly trivial, petty, and self-absorbed. Who gives a crap, really? I thought. I remember watching the news and seeing that much of the blood that had been collected wouldn't be needed after all. It made me sick to my stomach. I remember feeling, for the first time in my life, hatred and a desire for revenge--another sickening feeling. But I wanted it. I wanted justice for all those people who lost mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters.

I don't believe justice has been served. That's for another post, I suppose.

Anyway. I just wanted to say that I remember.

Liz's Alphabet

2006-09-08T07:08:00.000-07:00

A is for Age: 34
B is for booze of choice: Not so much with the booze.
C is for Career: Writer-in-training? No? Okay, they pay me to be an Administrative Assistant.
D is for Dog: Make that Dogs(s), as in Baxter and Cydney.
E is essential items you use/love everyday: Get Even powder by Benefit and lip tattoo Avon.
F is for favorite song of the moment: Back on "She Sells Sanctuary" by the Cult.
G is for favorite games: Like watching basketball both live and on television; only like baseball live; when I'm feeling masochistic, I enjoy getting soundly beaten by my sister at Trivial Pursuit (HOW can anyone have so much crap rattling around in their brain???)
H is for hometown: Born in Atlanta, GA, but I'm a Texan by default.
I is for instruments you play: I can make a really cool sound when I blow into an almost empty soda bottle. Something about that sounds wrong.
J is for jam or jelly you like: Grape.
K is for kids: None.
L is for last kiss: Baxter the dog. Yes, I'm aware that's very sad.
M is for most admired trait: I'm very honest. Mostly. See? I'm even honest about that.
N is for name of your crush: Alas, I am crushless at the moment.
O is for overnight hospital stays: None.
P is for phobias: Spiders, roaches, and snakes, oh my!
Q is for quotations you like: "There's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line." Oscar Levant. "I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then." Lewis Carroll.
R is for biggest regret: Quitting.
S is for sweets of your choice: Dark chocolate.
T is for time you wake up: As late as possible.
U is for underwear: Yes, I wear it.
V is for vegetables you love: Brussell sprouts, lima peans, peas, corn and cooked broccoli and carrots.
W is for worst habit: Emotional eating. Biting fingernails. Lots of bad habits here.
X is for x-rays you've had: Usually my teeth, but once for my foot.
Y is for yummy food you make: I tend to make very good soup. But in general, I don't cook. I prefer to eat other people's cooking.
Z is for zodiac: Sagittarius.

Another Book Meme Stolen From My Sister

2006-09-07T14:38:00.000-07:00

I wasn't going to steal it and told her so, after which she emailed me and told me to steal it. She used exclamation marks. I really had no choice.

1. You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be?

Pride and Prejudice would be good--any book with good, strong female characters.

2. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

Mr. Darcy. So very dreamy. Actually, Colin Firth playing him in the BBC P&P might have had an impact on the crush.

3. The last book you bought is:

There and Back Again by Sean Astin with Joe Layden. Interesting read from an actor's perspective. When I went to B&N to link to the book here, I read some of the reviews and was surprised by how many people just thought he was an ass. I liked the book well enough, and although I must, with all due respect, scoff at his insistence that he's middle-America, I still think he seems relatively grounded for a movie actor. Sure he's insecure and self-absorbed. He's an actor. If he were confident and focused on the welfare of others, he'd choose a different type of career, like say education or social work.

4. The last book you read is:

Falcon at the Portal by Elizabeth Peters. Started reading it last night when I couldn't sleep. I actually didn't quite finish it--still have about 60 pages to go. The Amelia Peabody series is one of my favorites. Very funny.

5. What are you currently reading?

Oh, I guess I should have put Falcon at the Portal here.

6. Five books you would take to a deserted island: I read a lot of books, but few that I want to read over and over again. Generally speaking, they'd have to be books that I enjoy re-reading, so:

Harry Potter. Like my sister, I'm counting all six (eventually seven) books as one book.

Chronicles of Narnia. Once again, counting them all as one book. I cheat like a dirty dog, don't I?

Diaries of LM Montgomery. Yet again, I count them all as one book. Do you think cheaters really go to hell? She's an interesting person and I appreciate the dichotomy between the sweetness and light she wrote about against the stormy discontent she constantly struggled against.

The Watcher's Guides. Stealing from my sister again and since she counted them as one book, I am too. She's a bad example. Inspiring me to cheat...

One more, huh? Sheesh, I dunno. How about I emulate Gwyndolyn (Importance of Being Ernest) and say my own diary "because one should always have something sensational to read on the train." Er. The island. Whatever.

How I Spent My Labor Day Weekend

2006-09-05T11:25:00.000-07:00

I had the best Labor Day weekend, primarily because it began last Wednesday--I had some days off just sitting around waiting to be used, so I used them. I didn't really do much. Hung out with the family. Slept. Ate barbecue because you're supposed to have barbecue on Labor Day weekend. Went to the movies. Read. Watched DVDs. Completely ignored my e-mail. In other words, I was extra-lazy and I really enjoyed it.

Friday, my sister and I went and saw Little Miss Sunshine. I liked it very much. It centers around an incredibly disfunctional family taking a road trip so little Olive, beautifully played by Abigail Breslin, can compete in the Little Miss Sunshine pageant. Dad (Greg Kinnear) is a motivational speaker who can't get his career off the ground; grandpa (Allen Arkin) recently got kicked out of his nursing home for his drug problem; Olive's brother, Dwayne (Paul Dano), won't speak; Uncle Frank (Steve Carrell) is a suicidal Proust scholar; and mom Sheryl (Toni Collette) is just harried and trying to keep it altogether. To be honest, the sentence in my E.W. magazine that made me want to see the movie was, "Steve Carrell plays a suicidal Proust scholar." I didn't really need any other inducement. He is such a funny, gifted actor, and he doesn't disappoint in this film. A caveat: it has some filthy, profane moments--I could sense my sister tensing up at a couple of scenes--but it's such a wonderful, sweet, witty film and I absolutely loved it and, aside from some of the filthy moments, so did my sister. Very recommended.

Saturday afternoon, I picked up There and Back Again, an actor's perspective on making the LOTR films, by Sean Astin. Now Sean Astin is remarkably honest in this book. His egocentricism and sense of entitlement (apparently inherent in many Hollywood actors--who knew?) is at constant war with his desire to associate himself with middle-America. In short, he's trying his best not to be an ass even though he admits that sometimes he's still kind of selfish and annoying. It was funny--I'd read a segment and think to myself, "wow, well that was kind of selfish and moronic," and then 3 sentences later, he'd say something like, yeah, in retrospect that was kind of selfish and moronic. Mostly, though, I think he does a pretty decent job of trying his best to maintain normalcy in a town that thrives on sheer over-the-top drama. And I have to respect someone who clearly puts his family ahead of all other considerations. In my book, that alone makes him extra cool. Aside from the insights into his own career and what it was like growing up in Hollywood, the sheer amount of information and perspective on making the films is just really interesting. So good read, definitely.

Sunday, I mostly spent with my parents. Monday we all got together for lunch and then I went home and watched some DVDs. That's pretty much the extent of it.

Just generally a lazy and very relaxing weekend. Usually vacations entail traveling to visit extended family or something like that. It was nice taking one like this for a change. But the vacation is over and I am back to work. Energized. Refreshed. Um...reconciled? Yep, that's it.

S-Project

2006-08-31T20:30:00.000-07:00

This is my submission for the S-Project. As always, comments and critique are welcome.

Lily had never been comfortable in dresses. She was more of a blue-jeans girl. Maybe shorts occasionally when the weather called for it. Capris weren’t unheard of either. She’d even been seen in culottes during the unfortunate fashion disaster of 1983. But mostly, she wore blue jeans.

She twirled around letting the skirt swirl around her legs. It was an unfamiliar feeling. “What do you think, Lester?”

Lester blinked once and let out a throaty purr. Lily laughed and gathered the chubby cat into her arms. “Sexy, eh?” she asked, scratching the Siamese under his chin. He submitted to her attentions for a few moments before squiggling out of her arms and back onto the bed.

She sighed and inspected herself again in her mother’s antique cheval mirror. The dress wasn’t too bad. Could have been worse, she thought. She could be wearing stockings and sandals too. Her mother had, in fact, laid them out for her on the bed next to the blue dress, but somehow between then and now, they’d managed to get snagged on something and were, unfortunately, beyond repair. Her mother had tried. She’d raced into the bedroom with a bottle of clear nail polish, but even her highly efficient and motivated mother couldn’t undo the damage to the silk stockings.

“I have no idea how these things always happen to you, Lily,” said her mother impatiently. “I swear those stockings were in perfect condition when I laid them out. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you snagged them on purpose.” She glared at Lily.

“Mom, please. Why would I destroy a perfectly good pair of silk stockings?” replied Lily. “I have respect for silk stockings,” she insisted. The half-smile that Lily couldn’t quite hide didn’t add much verisimilitude to her story.

Her mother sighed. Her mother’s sighs were a thing to behold. She made quite a production out them, shrugging her shoulders and rolling her eyes. They could mean any number of things, but mostly heralded annoyed exasperation most often directed at Lily. Usually they were followed with what her mother liked to call “motherly admonitions.” Her father called it for what it was-nagging. “Lily, don’t humor me. I don’t need to be humored quite yet. I have a few more years before I’m too old to notice that my children are humoring me.”

“I wasn’t humoring you, Mom,” Lily protested. “Much.” Out came the half-grin. Lily always had an inconvenient sense of humor, which her mother didn’t quite share. Her mother sighed again and left the room.

Lily slumped into her mother’s chair and Lester leapt gracefully from the bed to Lily’s lap. “You’re getting hair all over my dress. I’m going to be in even more trouble,” she whispered. In response, Lester curled up and nested his claws lightly in her lap.

“Why am I doing this, Lester? Why did I agree to let my mother set me up on a date? Why did I agree to wear a dress on the date? What’s wrong with me? Any other daughter with half an ounce of self-respect would have flat-out refused. I must be getting soft in my old age.” Lester’s purr deepened. “Are you even listening to me, you big selfish cat?” Lily asked him, scratching behind his ear.

Truthfully, Lilly knew exactly why she’d allowed herself to be talked into a blind date with the son of her mother’s bridge partner. She’d had a serious dating dry spell and her mother hit her up at the exact psychological moment of weakness. Todd was a great guy, her mother said. He was a history teacher at a local high school and as upstanding and decent a guy as there ever was. Plus he was kind to children and small animals. At the time, Lily thought it couldn’t hurt to try. At worst, he’d be a complete bore and she’d ditch him early. At best—well, there was a possibility he was as great as her mother insisted he was. That was a week ago. Just now she was convinced he was only slightly preferable to Cletus the slack-jawed yokel.

“We need a plan,” she said. “An escape plan. What’s my plan? What should I do if he turns out to be extra creepy?” Lester closed his eyes. Clearly, he was only interested in a warm lap and scratches on his head.

“Maybe I’m just being pessimistic,” she said. “Maybe he’ll be a great guy. Maybe he’ll love women who prefer blue jeans. And I’ll give him the wrong impression because I’m wearing a dress. And he’ll be polite and all because he’s a really great guy, but he’ll think I’m too high maintenance because I wear dresses and act all girly. Lester, what if he doesn’t like me?” The doorbell rang and Lily started, disturbing the cat. He glared up at her.

“Lily!” her mother called. “Todd is here!”

“Great,” muttered Lily under her breath. “I’m sorry, Lester, but I’m afraid I have to go.” She picked the protesting cat up and placed him gently on the bed.

She slipped on a pair of keds and grabbed her purse. “Okay, Lester, I’m out of here.” She reached over and scratched him on his chin. “And, hey,” she whispered, “thanks for taking care of the stockings. You’re a good cat.”

Neutral Good Elf Bard Ranger

2006-08-29T16:42:00.000-07:00

Alignment: Neutral Good characters believe in the power of good above all else. They will work to make the world a better place, and will do whatever is necessary to bring that about, whether it goes for or against whatever is considered 'normal'.

Race: Elves are the eldest of all races, although they are generally a bit smaller than humans. They are generally well-cultured, artistic, easy-going, and because of their long lives, unconcerned with day-to-day activities that other races frequently concern themselves with. Elves are, effectively, immortal, although they can be killed. After a thousand years or so, they simply pass on to the next plane of existance.

Primary Class: Bards are the entertainers. They sing, dance, and play instruments to make other people happy, and, frequently, make money. They also tend to dabble in magic a bit.

Secondary Class: Rangers are the defenders of nature and the elements. They are in tune with the Earth, and work to keep it safe and healthy.

Deity: Oghma is the Neutral Good god of knowledge and invention. He is also known as the Binder of What is Known, and is the Patron of Bards. His followers believe that knowledge reigns supreme, and is the basis for everything else that is done. They wear white shirts and pants, with a black and gold braided vest, and a small, box-like hat. All priests of Oghma are known as Loremasters. Oghma's symbol is a scroll.

What D&D character are you??

Books and Films and Memes, Oh, My!

2006-08-25T12:05:00.000-07:00

1. What book or books were special to you in your childhood?

I loved pretty much anything by L.M. Montgomery--the Emily books, the Anne books, as well as her stand-alones. I read and re-read them constantly. I also read Rebecca by Daphne du Mauier when I was twelve and loved it, thus beginning a love affair with gothic novels (Barbara Michaels, Phyllis Whitney, etc.) that continues to this day. I read the Trixie Belden books, as well as Nancy Drew and the Hardy boys. And, I confess that in my teen years, I absolutely devoured the Sweet Valley High series.

2. What was particularly special or memorable about those books?

The Emily books appealed to me because there was such a strong sense of destiny and purpose for all three of the main characters. It wasn't just that Emily wanted to write that I identified with; it was that she must write; she had to. Even if 9/10ths of what she wrote was pure garbage, it was worth it for the 1/10 that wasn't. I just liked that. Anne appealed to me simply because she represented a way of life I craved. She was safety and security and sweetness personified. I liked the danger and mystery of Rebecca, and I credit that particular novel with my eventual introduction to Jane Austen. My sister, hearing how much I loved Rebecca, recommended Northanger Abbey, which ultimately led me to Pride & Prejudice, one of my all-time favorites. Trixie Belden, et al, appealed to me just because I loved, and still do, a good mystery. Finally, I admit that Sweet Valley High is pure trash, but I enjoyed it when I was in Jr. High. They were so over-the-top melodramatic, and face it, I've always been drawn to the drama. I wanted to be Elizabeth, because she was so pretty and smart and had the cute boyfriend and the cushy job in the school newspaper. I read SVH from about age 12 until I was 15 or so.

3. Have you re-read any of them as an adult?

I constantly re-read L.M. Montgomery. I have occasionally re-read Rebecca, but it's been a while. My sister bought me a couple of Trixie Belden novels one day when she was feeling nostalgic. As for SVH, I skimmed through one at Half Price Books about a year ago and laughed myself silly.

4. If so, were the books as good as you remembered them?

L.M. Montgomery's were just as good, if not better for having had some life experiences. Trixie was entertaining enough. SVH was appallingly bad.

5. What do you think about movies being made out of children's classics (like the Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of The Rings, etc.)?

I like seeing them made into movies if they're done well. The 1993 Secret Garden adaptation was marvelous, as was the BBC Pride & Prejudice with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle. I also liked the adaptations of Narnia and LOTR. You can't please every single fan in adapting classics to film, but I thought they captured the spirit of the books beautifully. It's when they tromp all over the spirit of the books that I have a problem with things.

2006-08-24T10:21:00.000-07:00

Okay, I’m having a cranky day and I must vent. First, let me say that I am aware there is nothing inherently wrong with my life. I have family I love, good friends, a decent job (jobs, actually—I have a second part time job working in the box office of a local live theatre), a roof over my head, and enough to eat. Having said all that, I’m still cranky today.

I’m sure part of it is that I just woke up on the proverbial wrong side of bed. That happens to everyone—one just wakes up in a genuinely vile mood without any good reason. That happened to me this morning. I woke up, glared at my alarm clock (by the way, I don’t know whether looks can kill, but they don’t destroy technology—I tried), and made a huge show of dragging my sorry self out of bed. A wasted show, I might add, since there was no audience for my theatrics.

I had to go to Wal-Mart first thing this morning to purchase candy for a co-worker who will be running a booth at this year’s Family Preservation Conference in south Texas. Now, I realize Wal-Mart has lower prices and as a poor person, I should fully appreciate that, but I still don’t like going to Wal-Mart. It’s always crowded; the staff clearly has other places they’d rather be, and hey, who can blame them; it’s cluttered, and I always have to hit about six different aisles before I can finally find exactly what I’m looking for. Plus I hate that whole checking your receipt thing as you leave the store. It annoys me.

When I got to work, I found out the travel reimbursement voucher I’d completed for a faculty member wouldn’t clear due to insufficient funds. Now there’s a whole long story here about encumbering funds and how it impacts end-of-year financials, but I’ll spare you. Suffice to say that it took some finagling to get her reimbursement to clear.

Then I got an email from the theatre I work at giving me a new dress code. No flip-flops. Now this is perfectly reasonable and on a normal day, I’d be all “okay, no problem.” But today it makes me grumpy. I have really nice, pretty leather flip-flops that are almost as nice as sandals. “Why can’t I wear them?” I whine to myself. That’s because I’m a mean jerk, who is cranky for NO GOOD REASON.

Then my friend, V, who is organizing the whole Juarez project, changed the date of the trip. I grumped a little because the new weekend conflicts with my schedule, then offered to support them financially anyway just because I still want to be a part of it. V just emailed me back with a different date to see if that would work. See how nice and reasonable and good she is? Yet still I crank.

So now I’m cranky because I feel guilty for being cranky.

Dogs, Dogs, Dogs...

2006-08-22T09:51:00.000-07:00

I love dogs. And since my dad recently e-mailed me some pictures of our dogs, I thought I'd post 'em on this blog, so everyone can roll their eyes and agree, "yes, Liz, your dogs are cute--shut up talking about them now."

The first is Baxter begging for food. The second is Cydney is laying on the back porch. And in the one with them together, Cydney had just crawled into Baxter's bed. She has a perfectly good bed of her own, but she likes Baxter's better. Go figure. He looks annoyed.

Okay, I'm shutting up about the dogs now.

Scheherazade Project-Starlight

2006-08-17T11:37:00.000-07:00

This is my second contribution to the Scheherazade Project. Any comments/critique is definitely welcome. This is (very) loosely based on a recent trip my mother, sister and I took to Longview, TX.

I could tell it had been pretty once, even peaceful. Surrounded on three sides by stately East Texas pines, the house faced what could generously be called a lake, but more closely resembled a swamp. Great weeping willows crept along the brush entangling itself with masses of fragrant honeysuckle. The house had long ago been taken over by flora. Rodents and bats and other squatters had made themselves at home in every nook and cranny.

“There’s snakes too, I expect,” said Uncle Chris, “so be careful. You probably should have worn sneakers instead of those sandals.”

I smiled and shrugged. He was right. I probably should have worn sneakers but I didn’t expect a field trip to the dilapidated old house that had once been our family homestead.

“Can we go in?” asked my sister, Claire.

“Let’s you and I go check it out,” replied Uncle Chris. He grinned at me and said apologetically, “You’d better not. I know there’s poison ivy. Why don’t you stay out here with your mother?”

I was fine with that. I didn’t get to see Mom all that often anyway. My sister, Claire, and I had taken our mother to Longview to visit her brother, our Uncle Chris. The visit had turned into a prolonged genealogy lesson with Mom and Uncle Chris taking turns regaling us with stories of their childhood. Uncle Chris had taken it a step further by squiring us all over East Texas to show us where our family had lived, worked, and loved. This house, named Starlight, had been the home of Rebecca Hope, our great-great grandmother.

“I like the way they used to name houses,” I said to Mom.

She smiled wistfully and then laughed. “You can still name your house nowadays. Your stepfather and I named our house Hardwood.”

I laughed. I thought that was a mighty grand name for a weathered and bordering on run-down 3-bedroom house in an almost bad part of town. “Mike is eccentric,” I said. “He names everything.”

“Well, yes. We’re an eccentric family,” mom said proudly. “That includes you, my dear.”

I grinned. “Well, yes. I guess it does. I suppose I prefer eccentric to weird, strange, off, or ‘a little odd’.”

We walked in companionable silence for a while on the trail that was barely visible beneath all the brambles.

“Did you come here a lot when you were a kid?” I asked mom.

“No,” she replied. “This house belonged to another family by then. I don’t really know the story. I expect your Uncle Chris knows more about it.” Mom shifted directions so that we were walking to the dock overlooking the swamp.

“Scenic view,” I said, only half-joking. Mom didn’t catch the implied sarcasm.

“It is,” she said. “I’ve always loved East Texas. It’s home to me. This is home. It’s been a while since I’ve seen anything this lovely.”

I snuck a sideways glance at Mom as she gazed over the swamp. Mom was a chubby, gray-haired grandmotherly sort with appalling fashion sense and a blatant disregard for convention. But just then, I could see the young girl depicted in a few surviving childhood photographs—small, but sturdy, two long, dark plaits tumbling past her shoulders, clutching loose pages she’d cobbled together tightly in her arms as she daydreamed of becoming a famous author and finding love, fame, and fortune.

Many of her dreams had come true, but none of them in the expected ways. Fortune had eluded her, but she was well-known in her field. And it had taken her two tries, but she’d found love with someone remarkably compatible—that is to say, Mike was just as disrespectful of social mores as Mom. It occurred to me then that Mom had never really stopped daydreaming.

“Hey, you two—there you are!” exclaimed Uncle Chris. Claire followed him, her eyes shining.

“So,” I began, “what was it like? Is it pretty?”

Claire’s eyes sparkled. “It was. It is. I’ll tell you about it,” she said, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.

Mom and I exchanged a smile and followed the others to Uncle Chris's SUV.

“You’re right, mom,” I whispered. “It is lovely.”

Songs of '89

2006-08-11T09:49:00.000-07:00

A.) Go to musicoutfitters.com
B.) Enter the year you graduated from high school in the search function and get the list of 100 most popular songs of that year
C.) Bold the songs you like, strike through the ones you hate and underline your favorite. Do nothing to the ones you don’t remember (or don’t care about).

**Sorry, can't pick a favorite
***Sorry, have no idea how to use the line-through function on this blog

1. Look Away, Chicago
2. My Prerogative, Bobby Brown
3. Every Rose Has Its Thorn, Poison
4. Straight Up, Paula Abdul
5. Miss You Much, Janet Jackson
6. Cold Hearted, Paula Abdul
7. Wind Beneath My Wings, Bette Midler
8. Girl You Know Its True, Milli Vanilli
9. Baby, I Love Your Way/Freebird, Will To Power
10. Giving You The Best That I Got, Anita Baker
11. Right Here Waiting, Richard Marx
12. Waiting For A Star To Fall, Boy Meets Girl
13. Lost In Your Eyes, Debbie Gibson
14. Don't Wanna Lose You, Gloria Estefan
15. Heavan, Warrant
16. Girl I'm Gonna Miss You, Milli Vanilli
17. The Look, Roxette
18. She Drives Me Crazy, Fine Young Cannibals
19. On Our Own, Bobby Brown
20. Two Hearts, Phil Collins
21. Blame It On The Rain, Milli Vanilli
22. Listen To Your Heart, Roxette
23. I'll Be There For You, Bon Jovi
24. If You Don't Know Me By Now, Simply Red
25. Like A Prayer, Madonna
26. I'll Be Loving You (Forever), New Kids On The Block
27. How Can I Fall?, Breathe
28. Baby Don't Forget My Number, Milli Vanilli
29. Toy Solider, Martika
30. Forever Your Girl, Paula Abdul
31. The Living Years, Mike and the Mechanics
32. Eternal Flame, The Bangles
33. Wild Thing, Tone Loc
34. When I See You Smile, Bad English
35. If I Could Turn Back Time, Cher
36. Buffalo Stance, Neneh Cherry
37. When I'm With You, Sheriff
38. Don't Rush Me, Taylor Dayne
39. Born To Be My Baby, Bon Jovi
40. Good Thing, Fine Young Cannibals
41. The Lover In Me, Sheena Easton
42. Bust A Move, Young M.C.
43. Once Bitten, Twice Shy, Great White
44. Batdance, Prince
45. Rock On, Michael Damian
46. Real Lov, Jody Watley
47. Love Shack, B-52's
48. Every Little Step, Bobby Brown
49. Hangin' Tough, New Kids On The Block
50. My Heart Can't Tell You No, Rod Stewart
51. So Alive, Love and Rockets
52. You Got It (The Right Stuff), New Kids On The Block
53. Armageddon It, Def Leppard
54. Satisfied, Richard Marx
55. Express Yourself, Madonna
56. I Like It, Dino
57. Soldier Of Love, Donny Osmond
58. Sowing The Seeds Of Love, Tears For Fears
59. Cherish, Madonna
60. When The Children Cry, White Lion
61. 18 And Life, Skid Row
62. I Don't Want Your Love, Duran Duran
63. Second Chances, .38 Special
64. The Way You Love Me, Karyn White
65. Funky Cold Medina, Tone Loc
66. In Your Room, Bangles
67. Miss You Like Crazy, Natalie Cole
68. Love Song, Cure
69. Secret Rendesvous, Karyn White
70. Angel Eyes, Jeff Healey Band
71. Patience, Guns N' Roses
72. Walk On Water, Eddie Money
73. Cover Girl, New Kids On The Block
74. Welcom To The Jungle, Guns N' Roses
75. Shower Me With Your Love, Surface
76. Stand, R.E.M.
77. Close My Eyes Forever, Lita Ford
78. All This Time, Tiffany
79. After All, Cher and Peter Cetera
80. Roni, Bobby Brown
81. Love In An Elevator, Aerosmith
82. Lay Your Hands On Me, Bon Jovi
83. This Promise, When In Rome
84. What I Am, Edie Brickell and The New Bohemians
85. I Remember Holding You, Boys Club
86. Paradise City, Guns N' Roses
87. Iwanna Have Some Fun, Samantha Fox
88. She Wants To Dance With Me, Rick Astley
89. Dreamin', Vanessa Williams
90. It's No Crime, Babyface
91. Poison, Alice Cooper
92. This Time I Know It's For Real, Donna Summer
93. Smooth Criminal, Michael Jackson
94. Heavan Help Me, Deon Estus
95. Rock Wit'cha, Bobby Brown
96. Thinking Of You, Sa-fire
97. What You Don't Know, Expose
98. Surrender To Me, Ann Wilson and Robin Zander
99. The End Of The Innocence, Don Henley
100. Keep On Movin', Soul II Soul

Women of Juarez

2006-08-11T09:26:00.000-07:00

So, a couple of days ago my friend V, who has her own theatre company emailed me and told me she was planning a show on the women of Juarez. A bunch of actors, writers, artists, photographers, etc. are heading to Juarez in a few weeks to interview families of the victims. Aferwards the participants will write/create the show. All proceeds will be split between Casa Amiga in Juarez and a local women's shelter here in North Texas.

I am really excited about this production. I'm going to head out with everyone to Juarez in September and plan on participating 100% until the show goes up in late July 2007. Aside from how much I enjoy working with V and crew, I think this is a great cause. Juarez was the beneficiary the year I did "The Vagina Monologues" (in case you were wondering, my vagina is a shell...). That's when I first heard about the Juarez murders and I have to say, I was appalled.

One of things I admire about V, and have learned from her, is do something about it. Nice to be a part of that.

Another Meme Stolen From My Sister (but she stole it from someone else first....)

2006-08-11T08:38:00.000-07:00

FOOD-OLOGY

What is your salad dressing of choice? Hidden Valley Ranch. Love the stuff. However, since I've been watching the caloric intake, I've grown fond of plain old oil and vinegar.

What is your favourite fast food restaurant? Tie between Subway and Sonic.

What is your favourite sit down restaurant? Well, it's another tie--For Mexican, I love El Rancho Grande in the Stockyards in Fort Worth--For Italian, I love Moni's, which is in a strip mall in Arlington. Very tasty pasta!

On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant? 20% generally. If I tip less than 20, the service was pretty bad.

What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of? I don't know that I could eat *any* food every day for two weeks without getting sick of it. I guess ice cream. Love me the ice cream.

Name three foods you detest above all others. Squash, okra and eggplant.

What is your favourite dish to order in a Chinese restaurant? I know it's bad for me, but I will always love lemon chicken.

What are your pizza toppings of choice? Pepperoni, black olives, onions, bell peppers, tomatoes, and mushrooms.

What do you like to put on your toast? Butter, sometimes jam or jelly.

What is your favourite type of gum? Orbit Mint Bubblegum.

Number of contacts in your mobile phone? 41

Number of contacts in your email address book? 56

What is your wallpaper on your computer? Relaxing beach scene-unknown island location.

Are there naked pictures saved on your computer? No.

How many land line phones do you have in your house? None

How many televisions are in your house? Two.

What kitchen appliance do you use the least? Um, kitchen appliances involve cooking, correct? Take your pick. Don't really use them.

What is the format of the radio station you listen to the most? Alternative

BI-OLOGY

What do you consider to be your best physical attribute? My eyes

Are you right handed or left handed? Left-handed

Do you like your smile? It's okay. I have good teeth but I think my mouth is too big.

Have you ever had anything removed from your body? Nope.

Would you like to? Nope, but let's be honest. I still look fairly young for the most part. Who knows what I'll think when I'm older and things begin looking a bit worse.

Do you prefer to read when you go to the bathroom? I've been known to bring a book or magazine in and I cannot believe I just admitted that.

Which of your five senses do you think is keenest? Smell

When was the last time you had a cavity? Couple of years ago and I lost the filling recently so I need to get that fixed.

What is the heaviest item you lift regularly? I guess big stacks of hanging files--at my job.

Have you ever been knocked unconscious? No, but I once fainted. That was weird.

MISC-OLOGY

If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die? No way.

If you could change your first name, what would you change it to? I kind of like my first name. But my parents gave me a LOT of names to choose from. My full name is Elizabeth Anne Lorraine, so lots of variations and nicknames.

How do you express your artistic side? Through acting and writing.

What color do you think you look best in? Blue and green

How long do you think you could last in a medium security prison? I have no idea and hope I never find out.

Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake? Yes, when I was a kid my mom had a bottle of nail polish remover sitting out which had the consistency of milk--I didn't realize it wasn't milk and took a big swig. Got my stomach pumped and was actually proud of myself because my sister, who I adore to this day, was always getting her stomach pumped for the weird stuff she ate for who knows why?? I was happy to follow her example.

If we weren’t bound by society’s conventions, do you have a relative you would make a pass at? Gross--I'm clearly too bound by society's conventions.

How often do you go to church? I'm a total heathen.

Have you ever saved someone’s life? Well, once I was in traffic behind this guy who appeared to be more interested in bopping to the music than in going when the light turned green. After a minute I realized something was wrong, so I got out of the car and ran over and it turned out he was having a grand mal seizure. He was being choked by his seatbelt so I unbuckled it and he fell over. I didn't have a cell phone at the time, so I waved down someone who did and they got help. It sort of freaked me out a little, but the paramedic said I did the right thing. And that guy was SO lucky that the seizure happened at a red light instead of while he was driving.

Has someone ever saved yours? No.

DARE-OLOGY

Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000? Are there people with cameras? If there are no cameras, maybe. If cameras are involved, forget it.

Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100? For an amazing role in a really good play, I'd kiss a woman for free. Otherwise, it's kind of a stupid dare.

Would you have sex with a member of the same sex for $10,000? No. I also wouldn't have sex with a man for money.

Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000? Nope.

Would you never blog again for $50,000? Oh, yeah. Check out my past history updating my blog. I could do that easy.

Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000? Nope.

Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000? I am way too wimpy for that!

Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000? NO way.

Would you shave your head and get your entire body waxed for $5,000? As long as the pain medication is included, sure.

Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000? Yes.

Black Ethel Rackham

2006-07-28T14:06:00.000-07:00

That's my pirate name. Here's what they say about me:

Like anyone confronted with the harshness of robbery on the high seas, you can be pessimistic at times. You have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham (pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr!

See, I AM cool. I AM.

You should go get your own pirate name.

The Soundtrack of My Life

2006-07-28T13:22:00.000-07:00

This was a little difficult for me, mostly because, although I do enjoy many different types of music, I'm not quite as passionate about music as many of my friends. Therefore, I'm certain lots of people will think many of my choices are lame. I'm okay with that.

1) A favorite political track. Sunday Bloody Sunday-U2

2) One of those tracks that make you dance on the dancefloor no matter what. Walking on Sunshine-Katrina and the Waves. I don't see how anyone could NOT break out into dance.

3) The song you’d use to tell someone you love them. When I'm 64-Beatles

4) A song that has made you sit down and analyze its lyrics. Kiss From a Rose-Seal

5) A song that you like, that a two year old would like as well. Pretty much anything sung by the cookie monster (Sesame Street) relating to cookies.

6) A song that gives you an energy boost. She Sells Sanctuary-The Cult

7) A song that you and your grandparents (would probably) like. Anything crooned by Frank Sinatra. Please don't ask me to pick just one. I can't. Okay, I really like The Lady Is a Tramp.

8) A song that you really liked when you were 14-16, and still really like now. Right Here Waiting-Richard Marx

9) A sad song that would be in the soundtrack of the movie about your life. Don't Give Up - Peter Gabriel (This was my sister's choice and it's mine too)

10) A peppy song that would start the opening credits of the movie about your life. All-Star-Smashmouth. Except Shrek stole it first.

11) A good song from a genre of music that no one would guess that you liked. I have a special place in my heart for Too Young to Fall in Love-Motley Crue.

12) A song that you think should have been playing when you were born. Funny Face? Falling back on Sinatra...

13) A favorite artist duo collaboration. I'm laming this up even more, but I will ALWAYS love I've Had the Time of My Life-Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes-from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. And while I'm at it, I may as well confess my undying love for She's Like the Wind.

14) A favorite song that you completely disagree with (politically, morally, commonsenically,religiously etc.) I think I made this one harder than necessary, but the first thing I came up with was What's Love Got to Do With It-Tina Turner, so that's what I'm putting down. I like the song and I get the bitterness, but clearly, love has everything to do with it.

15) The song that you like despite the fact your IQ level drops several points every time you listen to it. Vogue-Madonna.

6) Your smooth song, for relaxing. Come Away With Me-Norah Jones

17) A song you would send to someone you hate or are mad at. Run, Shithead, Run - Mudhoney

18) A favorite track from an outfit considered a “super-group.” (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction-Rolling Stones

19) A song that makes you reminsce about good times with a family member. Wild Thing - The Troggs.

20) Your favorite song at this moment in time. I know I'm behind the times here, but I just barely heard You're Beautiful-James Blunt-and really liked it.

Okay, that's my soundtrack for the time being. These things can change though...

Okay, I'm Updating. I Swear.

2006-07-28T13:12:00.000-07:00

This is rather like the way I keep my journal. About once every couple of years I open my jounal and promise, promise, promise myself that I'm going to regularly update. And then I don't. But this time I really, really mean it.

Honest.

I'm going to do the Scheherazade Project, which is something my sister and some of her many friends have been working on for a while. And I'll post some other stuff. Just for fun. 'Cause I want to.

I promise.

Izzybella Falls on Face, Goes Boom

2005-03-17T14:59:00.000-08:00

After receiving my B.F.A. in Theatre Arts, I was so tired of acting I never wanted to get on a stage ever again. Thing was by the time I got to my senior year I was bored. I found acting dull. Tedious. Tiresome. Dreary. I was doing what felt like an endless litany of the same plays with the same actors, playing the same types of characters. It wasn't fun anymore. One of my professors was big on saying, "If you aren't having fun, you aren't doing it right. There's a reason they call it a "play," people!" Since I wasn't having fun, I figured I was done.

Cut to:

Two months ago I came across a script called "Kimberly Akimbo" by David Lindsey-Abaire. It's an amazing play and I strongly recommend it if you ever have a chance to catch it. When I found out a local theatre was holding auditions for it, I suddenly felt a very strong urge to be on stage again. So off I went to the auditions feeling oh so cocky and confident. Because after all, I have a *degree* and many performance credits to my name and I am so talented. In case you were wondering, humble pie tastes a little tart and lemony. I was **horrible** at the auditions. What my sister might refer to as suck-tacular. I was invited to callbacks, but not because the director was actually considering me. (I might think less of him if I discovered he was) I think it was more of a professional courtesy type of thing since we'd once worked together in the past. I appreciated it, continued to suck mightily at auditions, was dismissed at the next cut, went home and stewed.

Thing is - the urge to be on a stage hasn't left. I keep thinking over and over about "If you aren't having fun, you aren't doing it right." I haven't been doing it right for several years now. I'm not the most talented actor who ever graduated from my university. Um. Not even what you'd call close. But I did have passion for it once. It's nice to feel the passion for acting coming back. So although I fell and went boom, it's no big. I'm back in the game. I'm used to the fall-and-go-boom stuff. Happens at least 70% of the time. The other 30% though? Man. That's fun.

Yalayla Strikes Again

2004-10-08T13:03:00.000-07:00

I've never had a blog. I don't do this sort of thing. But I wanted to make all kinds of erudite comments on Yalayla's blog and this blog site made me create my own blog just to post on hers. (buggers) So what the heck. I'm blogging. I feel so techy, except for that whole part about I'm pretty much technologically challenged. Anyway, point being--if you don't like my blog, blame Yalayla.