The Christmas That Almost Wasn't

I thought about skipping Christmas and my birthday this year. There just didn't seem to be much to celebrate.

A month ago, I had been counting down the days, carefully planning holiday crafts, shopping lists and at least four weeks of festivities. I was finally Nutcracker-free and was ready to enjoy every moment of the holidays I had been previously denied under performing contracts for the last twenty years of my life. It was going to be the best Christmas of my life.

About four or five weeks ago a friend of mine asked me, "do you feel like you need your life to change in some way?" My answer was no. My life was comfortable and change was scary. Over the last three weeks, every aspect of my life has changed in the scariest way possible.

Losing Jason changed everything. Christmas didn't seem important anymore. Nor did work or dance or all the activities that I thought made up my life. My heart was shattered and I felt lost.

I know they say that "time heals all wounds," but I'm not sure that I want this one to heal. As the grief settles in, I begin to see the good that God does in the midst of it. Young relationships have been made stronger, old ones have proven their worth and love has flooded through every aspect of my life. Although I'm heartbroken over the circumstances, I am so grateful for what I've discovered in those that I'm surrounded by.

The Christmas season did eventually begin for me this year, but not until the 19th. On that Friday, hope returned. As I was surrounded by three of my closest friends, the hole in my heart felt a little less hollow. Although the wound will never heal, it gave me a greater apprecation for what I've been given and the humble hope of the gifts to come.

This Christmas was nothing I thought it would be, but it's still the best one I've yet to experience. It had nothing to do with the perfect gift or the greatest party, but the depth of love in the family and friends I'm so lucky to have. It was exactly what Christmas is supposed to be.

Jason

Sometimes there are no words that you can say or can be said to you. On the 6th of this month, one of my best friends, who also happened to be my boss, died in a car accident.

I am heartbroken.

And my life will never be the same again.

I miss you Jason. You have no idea how much I loved you.

Thanksgiving - An Ode to Carbs

Let me preface this by saying that Thanksgiving is about much more than just the food so before you accuse of me of being overly shallow, please note that this blog focuses merely on the meal.

Thanksgiving dinner is probably the most decadent meal I eat all year and I spent a lot of time yesterday trying to discover what it was that I loved about it so much. A lot of people love the turkey or the cranberry sauce or a favorite pie. Many have mentioned the famed "green bean casserole" which to me is still a mystery. I don't think I've ever had it and I think I prefer it that way. But what I love most about Thanksgiving dinner is the massive amounts of carbs: the mashed potatoes, the stuffing, and my aunt's amazing dinner rolls. The turkey and vegetables are merely there to add balance and a splash of color to the heaping piles of starches. Let's face it, I have a reverse sort of Atkins diet going on.

But the truly great thing about Thanksgiving at my house is that dessert constitutes its own meal. We usually have dinner around two in the afternoon so that our evening meal consists entirely of a delicious variety of baked goods. My mom and I spent a week creating the extravangaza of sugar that blessed our table yesterday evening. I think I had three helpings this year. It was glorious. I wish life could always be that grand. (Those that know me know I have a habit of having dessert for dinner on probably a weekly basis, but I feel less ashamed of it on Thanksgiving.)

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and that your dessert course was bountiful!

No Offense Tchaicovsky

I have to say it's pretty hilarious that most of the closest people in my life have been conditioned to fly into full-fledged panic anytime a note from the Nutcracker Suite touches their ears. The score, though beautiful, has been known to throw me into fits of rage, especially the Sugar Plum variation or the Waltz of the Flowers. My boss has it on his ipod and even when it comes on when he's at home alone, he leaps over furniture to quickly change it to another song.

There was a time in my life, when I considered Tchaicovsky's masterpiece magical. It was an exciting time of year for me. It signaled new dance opportunities and the beginning of the holiday season which I had been anticipating since January 1st. (I know I'm a dork.) Nutcracker auditions were usually in September and it was always thrilling to find out what new part I would get to play that year. The years I got to play Clara were pivotal for me and I enjoyed the experience immensely. Hearing those lovely notes would transport me to another world. One that I longed to share with audiences in a new way each and every year. That was in high school. For eleven Nutcrackers, I saw my dancing grow and mature as I was given bigger and better parts. My senior year I played the Sugar Plum Fairy. From there, there was no where to go but down.

Fast forward a few years. Around Nutcrackers thirteen and fourteen I started to play the same parts over and over again: Dewdrop, Merlitons, Snow, Petals. It never changed. Around Nutcracker fifteen I started to crack. Sixteen was met with bitterness and a sense of obligation. During Nutcracker seventeen, I sold my soul for the money. I wanted to be anywhere but in rehearsal. My friends were celebrating and shopping while I spent countless hours in a studio or theatre. I even had a show on Christmas Eve. I hated it with every fiber of my being. I was miserable, sleep deprived and extremely short tempered. My boss even threatened to fire me if I ever did another Nutcracker. But I had a car loan to pay off. And so I danced...joylessly and with a depressing lack of the wonder and inspiration that I used to live for.

I'm happy to say that as of today, the only times I have heard the Nutcracker score this calendar year were the few moments that my boss was daring enough to play it on purpose just to spite me. Rest assured, he was assaulted with highlighters within seconds of it's recognition.

I wish I could say I missed it, but I really don't. I do miss my friends and the crazy things we would do in between shows or during long rehearsals but I am so relieved to actually be able to celebrate the holidays.

Maybe I will miss it next year.

Or the year after. We'll play it by ear.

Witnessing Catastrophe

It's been quite a weekend. I went to work Friday morning with plans for only Friday evening. The rest of the weekend was entirely clear to do whatever I wished. I had considered plenty of options but was relishing in the fact that I was almost completely uncommited to anything.

And then the first disaster struck. A very good friend of mine went to the emergency room with a recurrence of appendicitis. I hadn't heard much when I left work that afternoon so I went home to work out and half way through I got a call that he was waiting to be transferred and I was needed to help get his car home. I jumped off the treadmill, got a ride to the hospital, got his car from the valet, drove it to his house, got a ride back home, changed, drove to the performing arts center and was walking in to see the ballet that night in less than an hour and a half. That has to be some kind of girl record. When I got out of the ballet, he was still waiting for surgery so I went home and passed out.

Saturday morning I woke up with plans to visit him as he was recovering in the hospital. Funnily enough, they transferred him to the very same hospital where I had my appendix removed many years ago. I was sitting at the kitchen table eating my toast when the phone rang. I never pick up the house phone so I continued eating and poking around on the internet. The answer machine picked up and then I heard my sister's voice. She was being evacuated. Her housing community was on fire and her, her husband and the kids were in a Coco's parking lot waiting to see the fate that would befall their home.

OMG!

I called her back. They were ok but definitely on edge. I kept it brief, offered them the house if they needed somewhere to go and let her get back to helping her neighbors. Then I realized that my elderly grandmother lives alone just on the other side of the freeway from her. I called my sister back but no answer. I called my grandma and thankfully she picked up. After several minutes of yelling into the phone to establish both who I was and what was happening to my sister I realized that she had no idea that less than a mile from her there were homes catching on fire. Apparently there was no threat to her neighborhood though so she let me know that my sister was welcome at her house and continued to chat a little longer. Anxious about my sister's fate, I tried to excuse myself and hung up the phone.

I sat paralyzed for a few minutes not knowing what to do. Do I go out there and help? Are the freeways even open? Do I go to the hospital? I checked the internet. The Corona fire wasn't being reported online or on TV yet. I called a good friend of mine for advice. After talking to him I decided to call my other sister. She assured me that they all were fine and that there was nothing I could do at the moment.

I got dressed and was about to leave the house for the hospital when I got a call from my aunt. She was in Corona as well. The RV park she was staying at was evacuated and she was staying in the area to help my sister or my grandma if need be. I felt considerably better at this point. Both of my parents were out of town so I did my best to keep them informed. In the process my dad learned to text message. I was so proud.

I got to the hospital and my friend was doing well. I spent the afternoon and early evening there just hanging out. I left for a short while to get some lunch and it was a little chaotic out there - smoke everywhere, the freeways packed. I decided the hospital was a much better place to spend the day.

By the end of the evening, my friend was sleepy but recovering and it looked like he would be released the following day. Several phone calls and text messages later it looked like my sister was still safe and her house still standing although they did lose a few trees in their backyard. Amazing!! A few of her neighbors lost their homes completely. It was so surreal.

So here I am on Sunday evening realizing that despite the calamity that struck all those around me, I still didn't really do anything this weekend (aside from finishing the third Harry Potter). It's so hard to hear of the strife your friends and family are facing and not be able to do anything tangible for them. But I am so grateful that they are all back home, feeling better than when they left it and that they have homes to go to. Considering the circumstances, it wasn't a bad end to a weekend.

Thank God the Chickens Are Free

I have to say I’m pretty bummed out by a lot of the outcomes of this election. In general, I’m supportive of the idea of democracy. That we all get a say in what happens to us and the nation we live in is a powerful thing. That we shape the environment for future generations is a humbling and awesome responsibility.

But I begin to wonder, how many people take that responsibility seriously? When candidates are placing ads in video games and on myspace and dazzling us with a killer smile and polished orations, I have to ask: Are we making our decisions based on subliminal messages and spin-doctored responses? Do we buy into charm and eloquence or real content and value? It’s hard to tell anymore.

I had a hard time getting to the bottom of a lot of issues this election. I feel like we’re so rarely fed the truth anymore that it’s nearly impossible to make informed decisions. Or the truth that we are given is presented in such disguised packaging that we don’t know what we have when we have it. I felt that the only responsible thing to do in regards to several ballot measures was to abstain from voting. I do my best to research the issues, discover a candidates character and understand the long term impact of propositions, but there were a few where I felt it was impossible to tell.

Do my fellow Americans approach their ballots with the same integrity? I’m sure many of them do. But I come from a very apathetic generation. A generation that had higher voter turnout this election than any other. I wonder what time they put into researching the issues? Or did they make their decisions with only their own self-interest in mind based on the text messages they received, myspace bulletins and whatever adds popped up between episodes of Gossip Girl and The Hills? If they are, then democracy can be a very frightening thing. I fear that all of us run the risk of being lambs led to the slaughter if we don’t take the weight of our one vote seriously and put some real mental effort behind it. I guess time will tell.

I realize the alternatives to democracy could be much worse so I don’t mean to sound like I’m whining. I would rather live here, under this government than almost anywhere else. But it’s an imperfect system and the reality of that bums me out at times. Of all the propositions Californians had to vote on, they seemed to care about prop 2 the most. We’re building a train we can’t afford and teenagers can continue to get abortions without the guidance of the adults that care about their well-being most but thank God the chickens are free!

Halloween Movie Survival Guide

This is actually an old one from my myspace page but I thought I would revisit it here. I haven't been as disciplined in my movie viewing this year but there's still time. Even though October is gone, Halloween still lives on.

1. Always be in the company of someone bigger, stronger and handier with weapons than you are. Self-reliance is overrated.

2. Pay attention to your pets. Animals always know when something is up.

3. Stop babysitting. Children are rarely targets of mass murderers. They'd be better off on their own.

4. If you're concerned about a friend, call the police. Never attempt to investigate a potential murder yourself. Trust me, your private investigating skills are not as strong as you think.

5. Check the backseat of your car before getting in. Thoroughly.

6. NEVER assume someone is dead unless there's a tag on their toe and rigormortis has set in. Even then, continue to keep your distance.

7. Learn how to fashion weapons out of everyday objects: knitting needles, wire hangers, keys, fireplace pokers. You get the picture.

8. Women, get this through your head - stalking is not charming.

9. Always, always, always make sure you have your keys before leaving the house.

10. Whatever happens, run. Don't look back. Just flee! Seriously.

American Eagle's Response

Really Kara?! That's it?! Surely my letter had to evoke a more creative response than that.

I'm so disappointed.

Don't you just love fall?!

October is my favorite month of the year and today was an especially pivotal day. Today, it finally felt like fall. Although I anticipate fall all summer long and in many ways, fall has already begun (see previous blog about pumpkin scones at Starbucks), today was the day that the weather finally decided to comply. It's been unseasonably hot the last few weeks until this morning. When I woke up it was bright and sunny outside but sweatshirts were in order, the wind was blowing, my nose was running, the leaves were changing and my heart was happy. After pancakes with my dad and some shopping, I spent the afternoon curled up inside reading. It was heavenly!

I spend January through early September looking forward to this time of year. I love the change of weather, the chance to wear sweaters again, snuggling close to friends and loved ones and the prospect of sitting next to a roaring fire. Everything changes in fall: the fashion, the decor, the leaves, the smell in the air. It's exhilirating. But what I love most is the beginning of the holiday season. While Christmas is hands down my favorite holiday, especially since it's my birthday as well, I also love Halloween. But what I love most is knowing that it's all ahead of me. Months of deocrating, celebrating, partying, crafting and gift giving await.

In an attempt to help you embrace the season (or further your embrace), below is a list of some of my favorite fall traditions. I hope you enjoy a few of them as you celebrate this magical time of year.

Apple picking - Oak Glenn and Julian, CA have excellent options

Pumpkin carving

Halloweentime at Disneyland - The beginning of Haunted Holidays at the Haunted Mansion!

Roger's Gardens - If you've never been before I strongly encourage you to check it out. Their Halloween displays are amazing. Plus, there are pumpkins of all shapes and sizes everywhere!

Scary stories - I usually read selections of Poe throughout the month. This year I'm beginning a foray into Harry Potter (I realize I'm a little late in jumping on the bandwagon).

The Nightmare Before Christmas - The perfect transitional piece. Disney has recently begun releasing the 3-D version in the theaters. If you can find it, it's well worth the movie ticket.

Halloween Haunt at Knott's Scary Farm - It's intense but by the end of the night, I'm a fan.

Boston College football games

Fall Day - More to come on this later.

Scary movies by candlelight - A recommendation list is in the works.

And of course plenty of trick or treating candy to pilfer!

Even some of my favorite ordinary hobbies take on new elements in fall - baking, shopping, candy making, decorating. I seem to rediscover the textures, flavors and colors every year as if they were brand new.

I'm not sure why but watching You've Got Mail is one of my most treasured fall traditions. Near the very beginning, Tom Hanks says something that I will remember my whole life long that I stole for the title of this blog. He says, "Don't you just love New York in the fall?! It makes me want to buy school supplies. If I knew your name and address, I would send you a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils." I've always loved that! I was fortunate enough to have a mother that sent me just such a bouquet when I was away at school. I hope I get to marry someone with that kind of romantic sensibility. It's not flashy or cliche, just incredibly thoughtful and charming.

Anyway, that quote, while I love it, reminds me of the only bittersweet thing about fall. This time of year makes me ache to be back on the East Coast and every October I always consider moving back. There's nothing quite like experiencing the seasons back there and there's no one quite like my college roommate Beth to celebrate them with. I miss her oh so much! When the distance between us seems so far, at least I know that her spirit is close and we bring the coasts a little bit closer together during this most wondrous of seasons.

Strongly Worded Letter

For those of you that know me, I constantly refer to the "strongly worded letter" as the greatest recourse of action when discovering you've been wronged. This is merely the first of many.

Secret Agent Man

When I was in college, I decided I wanted to be a CIA agent. Seriously!! Inspired by Julia Stiles' character in the Bourne movies, I was going to be stationed in Moscow as an undercover ballerina. Just think of all the amazing gadgets they could hide in a tutu and pointe shoes!! Never mind that I didn't speak Russian. Or can't bluff without giggling. I wanted to be an analyst a la Jack Ryan - the kind of agent that put the pieces of the puzzle together but never really had to wield a weapon.

I was pretty intent on it too. I even went so far as to download an application which in college is fairly proactive. I talked to a few family friends about their experiences and where they thought I might fight in. They didn't seem as interested in my classical ballet training as I had hoped but my uncle was convinced he could get me into the Navy's special operations unit. It didn't hold the same glamour that the CIA did though.

After further investigation of the agency's application I decided to put it off for a little while. I was afraid that "I have a face that would let me get away with anything" wasn't a strong enough platform for my candidacy. I continued to toy with the idea for another year or so but a lack of finances forced me to push up my graduation date and I was overwhelmed with school work.

Then 9/11 happened. The CIA has been flooded with applications ever since. Damn terrorists killed my dream!! Russia's safe...for now.

Gullible is not in the dictionary

A few weekends ago some friends and I headed out to the Sierra Nevadas to spend the weekend at Shaver Lake near Fresno. It was incredible! I went wakeboarding for the first time, hung out, went swimming, ate a lot of tasty food and within two days managed to establish myself as the most gullible person alive.


It all started with a ghost story. That I requested. The cabin we were staying in ran off of a generator so at night it was lights out and candles lit. The circumstances were just begging for a ghost story. In my excitement, I neglected to recall that I really get freaked out and usually have nightmares. That reality suspended, I encouraged Jason (our host and my boss) to tell the story he had offered the night before but we were too tired to embrace. He stalled for a little while, but in typical fashion, I egged him on. He feigned shyness which I should have picked up on since he's a performer and a bit of an attention whore (clue 1). He claimed he didn't know any good ghost stories. But with all eyes on him and nowhere to retreat, he finally offered a "true story of something that happened to me as a child" (clue 2).

The story began as we all cuddled up on the couches and in our sleeping bags. There were some dramatic moments but I continued to remain calm as I layed on the ground next to him. Then the story took a turn. A childhood friend of his disappeared during a hunting trip only to be found dead three days later. I bolted upright with a serious sense of concern for Jason's loss. He began to tear up and pause throughout the rest of the story (what a drama queen - and clue number 3). The story got more dramatic as there's suspicion of foul play in his friend's death. Jason started to pause more and more and he seemed to be struggling for words (clue 4). Things got even more intense when his friend's brother dies in a hit and run after he begins investigating his brother's death. (Doesn't this sound like an episode of NCIS? - clue 5).

As Jason continued, his father came in from outside. As he walked past us into the bedroom, he looked at Jason and said, "you realize it was around this time of year, right?" Jason responded, "yeah, thanks Dad!" and started to cry. I was totally and utterly invested. I could already see the end of the story and was absolutely terrified. His friend's murderer was coming after Jason (I can't believe I don't see where this is going!!) and I began to panic. That weekend was the 10 year anniversary of his friend's death and the five year anniversary of his friend's brother's death (clue 6). As I became more frightened, I started to realize that I am sleeping alone that night under a window. That does not lock. There are no lights. And I am defenseless. Jason's story ended with him looking up at one of the windows and saying, "and this weekend...he may...OH MY GOSH!! THERE HE IS!!!! " and I shrieked like you wouldn't believe. I jumped and cowered like a sad little girl, my heart beating a million times a minute. I think I may have even cried a little bit.

Rest assured dear readers that I did realize that the story was a fake...eventually. But I was still so anxious that I had to convince Jason to sleep in the living room with me that night so I didn't have a panic attack in my sleep. And so that on the off chance his story was true, the killer would find who he was looking for and not kill me by mistake. (Jason I love you but that's what you get for scaring me like that!)

I managed to make it through the night and the daylight brought peace to my soul and my pulse down to a normal rate. But trust me, that wasn't the end of my gullibility. On a hike that next morning I fully believed that I was walking through an area that was used to film both an epsiode of the Twilight Zone and was the scene of the ewok village in Star Wars. It wasn't until I heard snickering behind me that I realized I had once again been fooled. Sometimes, I make myself sad.

The moral of this story is - book smarts don't equal street smarts. I pray that God gives me a husband that can save me from myself.

In the end though, I don't know that being gullible is such a terrible thing. Aside from entertaining my friends, I think it adds to my optimism and sense of wonder. When I watch movies or read a great story, I totally buy it. I get wrapped up in the worlds they create and am totally invested in the journey they are taking me on. I don't know that I want to lose that. I think you have to be a little gullible to be a romantic. I feel bad for those that live the alternative.

What I aspire to

“I prefer to regard a dessert as I would imagine the perfect woman: subtle, a little bittersweet, not blowsy and extrovert. Delicately made up, not highly rouged. Holding back, not exposing everything and, of course, with a flavor that lasts.” - Graham Kerr

FYI

There is nothing funny about New Mexico.

Incompetence

Last weekend I went to LA for the day which was absolutely wonderful. I ate insanely greasy food at Pink's, ate even more at Diddy Riese's, went shopping on Melrose and at the Grove, discovered this amazing store called Johnny Cupcakes (see my blog list for his blog) and went to a show at one of my favorite outdoor locations - the Hollywood Bowl. The day was fairly close to perfect and an ideal way to close out the summer. That is, until the very end.

Prior to getting to the Hollywood Bowl, I parked at Hollywood and Highland to avoid the ridiculous stacked parking that the Bowl insists on providing and to provide my waistline with some much needed exercise after the 4,000 calories I had previously injested. I hike to the Bowl and enjoy the concert. Satisfied and a little bit tired, I head back to my car. Twenty minutes later as I finally approach the level my car was on, I start to dig for my car keys. And dig. And dig. And dig. My purse is not that big so this alone was an impressive feat. I dump the contents of my purse on the ground and after discovering some earrings I forgot I owned and reminiscing over the 24 or so tickets stubs I found, I come to the tragic conclusion that my keys are indeed lost. I knew I had them when I was at the Bowl so they are either still there or they fell out somewhere along the route back to Hollywood and Highland.

Slight panic begins to set in. I consider my options. Reevaluate my faith in humanity. Curse myself for not checking for my keys before I left the Bowl and decide that the next logical step is to hike back to the Bowl. Ugh.

So I hike back to the Hollywood Bowl checking every gutter and crevice all the way there. Tired, out of breath and slightly nervous, I ask a staff member if there's a lost and found. There is. Hope is rising. I find my way to the lost and found and discover four employees hanging out. I address a girl about my age that's sitting just behind the counter.

Me: "Has anyone turned in a set of car keys?"

Her: "What kind?"

Me: "Jeep."

Her: Momentarily blank stare.

Me: Breathless anticipation.

Her: "No. We haven't had our last drop off of the night though. We had someone turn in a key but it wasn't for a Jeep."

Me: Crestfallen. Actual panic begins to set in. "Can I take a look at my seat?"

Another employee: "Sure. What section were you sitting in?"

Me: "H."

Employee: "They shouldn't have cleared that section yet."

So I head to the seat I had pleasently spent the last two and a half hours in, however this time, it doesn't have quite the same appeal. There are no wine glasses clinking. There's no orchestra warming up. There are no LA socialites trying to impress each other with witty and cultured conversation. Instead there is trash and crickets everywhere.

After spending a good twenty minutes checking my seat and its surrounding area, digging through trash and retracing every step I had taken while at the Bowl, I am forced to realize that my hope had died and my faith in humanity was as misplaced as the object I was now done searching for. My key was gone. I had two options: call my dad and have him drive all the way up to LA with my spare key or take a cab home and have him drive me and said spare key up in the morning. Neither option appealed to me.

In the interest of stalling on making a decision, I went back to the lost and found office to give them my name and number in case my key turned up. This time there were only two girls left, both of which had been involved in my first panicked encounter.

Me: "Can I leave my name and number in case my key turns up?"

Girl 1: "Sure."

Girl 2: "Are you sure it was a Jeep?"

Me: "Yep." as I ponder how many times they've encountered people who were confused about what kind of car they drove.

Girl 2: "Are you sure it wasn't a Durango?"

Me: "Yes." baffled at the idea that she still doesn't believe I know what kind of car I drive.

Girl 2: "Because we had someone turn in a key for a Durango."

As appealing as the idea is of once again possessing a car key is, I decide that theft is not an option.

Me: "Well, unfortunately, I drive a Jeep." unsuccessfully trying not to sound condescending.

After once again confirming the make of car I drive, she picks up a key out of a tiny little bowl on one of their filing cabinets. It is none other than my car key. Which says Jeep on it. Twice. The word Durango won't even fit on my key the way it is designed.

Me: "That's it. That's my car key!!" said with an overwhelming sigh of a relief.

Girl 2: Look of sheer confusion. She inspects it closely for upwards of 90 seconds.

Me: I consider that this should have been done perhaps the first time I had visited her office.

Girl 2 to Girl 1: "It is a Jeep key!"

Me: Really now?

After exchanging looks of bewilderment, they finally hand me my key and I sign for it in their lost and found logbook. In my frustration, I didn't take the time to read the description in the logbook. I wish I knew if it was in fact described as a Jeep or Durango key. I fear this will haunt me the rest of my life.

Relieved and more than ready to be on my way I thank them and start out the door. As I walk away I hear laughter.

Girl 2 to Girl 1: "At least she got it!"

I have no words.

It's Finally Here!!

There were pumpkin scones at Starbucks this morning. One of the best days of the year.

Fall is finally here people!!

Batman Trumps All

Batman is the greatest super hero ever created. Yes Mike, even greater than Superman. I have given this a lot of thought and here's why:

1) He never intentionally kills anyone.

2) He never uses a gun.

3) He doesn't acually have any super powers.

4) He's not from another planet.

5) He shows mercy to his enemies.

6) His goals are actually altruistic.

7) He understands that black is classic and is thus always fashionable.

8) He doesn't have a jerry curl.

9) He's played by Christian Bale.

If you disagree with me, you're wrong. Get over it. But if you want to make a case for your fav, leave me a comment. We will discuss further.

Theatre Week

I didn't really plan it this way but last week evolved into National Theatre Week for me. I bought tickets to one event months ago. Two friends were in shows this last weekend. It didn't dawn on me that it would be the same weekend until the Monday before. And as an employee of an Arts Center, you don't turn down comps to a show when they're offered. I consider such perks a poor compromise between the salary I deserve and the one I actually make.

Wednesday - A Chorus Line - Orange County Performing Arts Center

It made me miss performing so much that I'm actually considering auditioning for a play after Christmas. I hope they have a silent role for me. :)

Friday - Picasso at the Lapin Agile - Maverick Theatre

It's hard to go wrong with Steve Martin. It was hilarious!! My friend was amazing and I was highly entertained by one actress whose French accent kept turning Jamaican.

Saturday - Les Miserables - Moonlight Productions, Vista, CA

Again I was overwhelmed by the talent of my friends. It was a fantastic production but let's take stock in the fact that this is such an amazing story, it holds it's own regardless of who's performing. It reminded me of how powerful mercy can be and how a single merciful act can change someone's life forever.

Sunday - The Films of Warner Brothers - Hollywood Bowl

I thought I watched a lot of movies but this made me realize that I've missed some major moments in cinematic history. I have a lot of homework to do. The evening was an advenutre and a half. More to come later.

Not a bad week.

Happy Birthday! Wait! What?

So my mom informed me yesterday afternoon that she and dad forgot my birthday. This is a fact I have been well aware of for almost two months since my birthday was on June 25th.

Well, half birthday that is. My real birthday is on Christmas and ever since I was little my mom always made a point of celebrating my half birthday since Christmas was always so busy with family stuff - a gesture much appreciated since it ensured I wouldn't receive any combination (Christmas/Birthday) gifts.

As I've gotten older my half birthday has been less celebrated than in years past. Which I'm fine with since I hate the birthday song almost as much as I like cake. (Almost! They don't quite cancel each other out.) It went from rainbow/50s/slumber party blowouts in my pre-teens to dinner with a small group of close friends over the last decade or so. I remember my grandfather calling me one year and asking, "are we still doing the half birthday thing?" I told him no since I preferred getting a big check once a year over two smaller checks twice a year. He appreciated the opportunity to save a stamp. You're welcome grandpa! I think my parents are the only ones who still consistently celebrate my half birthday...that is until this year.

I can't really be upset with them over this grievance though for a number of reasons:

a) I am TERRIBLE about remembering birthdays. If I forgot yours, I'm sorry. I probably wrote it down but neglected to look at my calendar for over a week (which I often do) and was so embarassed that I didn't say anything the day of that I figured it was better if I didn't say anything at all. If you had a party that involved cake, it would increase the likelihood of my remembering ten fold.

b) We are usually so busy in the summer that the celebration of my half birthday gets put off a month or two anyway.

c) I usually have such a hard time deciding what I want to do for my birthday that it gets put off an additional month or two. If I wait until after Labor Day to decide, my mom gets upset with me and threatens to not celebrate it on purpose.

d) My parents celebrate my birthday twice a year.

I'm always so surprised they insist on doing so. I'm sure there's been several years I didn't deserve it. But I appreciate that they go the distance to make sure that I have a day that celebrates me alone and not all that Christmas Day encompasses. When you have a birthday showdown with the Messiah, you rarely, strike that, never come out on top.

Besides, who am I to turn down cake in my honor twice a year? Quarter birthdays anyone? Takers? Bueller?

Global Warming

I have to admit that I don't really care about the environment all that much. If there's a recycle bin available, I will use it but I don't go out of my way to consider our earth's resources. I heard a compelling argument in college that global warming was just a geological trend and I've held to it ever since. That is, until now.

I saw an add today that said: STOP GLOBAL WARMING...OR ALL THE REESE'S WILL MELT.

I am seriously concerned.

Life is like...

I very often live in my own little world but whenever someone mentions chocolate, I pay attention. I have to admit Forrest (or his mama if I want to be accurate) was right. Life is like a box of chocolates and you never know what you're gonna get.

That's about as much as I can guarantee for this blog. You never know what you're gonna get, but it most likely will be sweet and I can assure you that chocolate will be a recurring theme. I figure I will just post things as they come to me, you can pick the pieces that you like and toss the rest out along with the box and paper cups.

My hope is that it gives some insight into who I am for those that don't know me as well and a connection for those that do know me but are far from home. My sisters and my best friend have been blogging for a little while now and even though I may not see them for months on end, it makes me feel like I get to be a part of their lives, even if I am basically just reading their diary (although this time with their permission). No matter how small the part I may play, I'm grateful they've invited me in. So I do the same for you. Have a seat, read on and may chocolate always be by your side.