Exercise Sucks! (Review #1)

I hate to exercise. I hate it, HATE it, HATE IT! It's a form of torture invented by masochists who enjoy other peoples pain. I never get a sense of pleasure (the 'endorphin' rush) and the only thing I feel when I'm done is relief that it's finally over. When I am really grooving exercise-wise, I do start to feel a sense of accomplishment, not because of enjoyment but because I am able to conquer something that I hate doing but need to do. (Which is also how I endure gynecologist visits and taking my car to the mechanic.)

I usually do an in-home walking program. I like it because it doesn't require a lot of equipment or special shoes and I can do it every day, no excuses. I highly recommend it to anyone who is out of shape and wants to start moving. it isn't hard but you can progressively challenge yourself to do more, walk further, etc. The one's I use are by Leslie Sansone and are called "Walk Away The Pounds". They really did help me lose weight the first time. They are great for gradually building up your strength and endurance and she has lots of tapes out there. I try to do two miles every day, although if I'm just not feeling it I'll do the one mile walk and if I'm really kicking butt I'll do the three mile walk or her interval workouts like "Walk and Box". I have about six of her DVDs so I can rotate through and not get too bored.

One day I wandered through the fitness section of Target and checked out their selection of workout DVDs. I saw several titles that grabbed my attention but with prices in the twenty dollar range I was hesitant to buy any. I'm really leery of workouts that might be too challenging for my overweight, out of shape, exercise hating self. I decided to check on Amazon to see if the prices were any better and to read some of the customer reviews. On one review I saw that someone said they had checked out the DVD at their local library. I decided to check my library to see if they had exercise DVDs and sure enough they did. What a great way to check out the workouts for free and see which ones might be worth the investment.



The first one I tried was "The Biggest Loser: Cardio Max" which says it is "a six week program for maximum weight loss." Plus it had real fat people (or former fat people at least) doing the workout. Which gave me hope that maybe I could do the workout too. You can customize your workout or follow their 'maximize your results' program. You start out in week one doing a warm up, a twenty minute boot camp cardio workout (with Biggest Loser trainer Bob) and a cool down. In week three you add a ten minute "super cardio drill" (with trainer Jillian) and in week five you add yet another ten minute cardio kickbox routine (with trainer Kim). So yesterday instead of my walking workout I decided to do Level One.

Let me start out by saying that the warm up is hard. Not what I would generally call a warm up as you start with jumping rope immediately. I'm used to a more gradual warm up so I was a bit surprised at the intensity of this one. I also wasn't wearing proper workout shoes (I don't have to with my walking DVDs, another bonus for them) so the jumping up and down on my concrete floor was painful so I modified the movements just a bit to cut down on joint damage.

Then the workout begins and I do mean work out. It's hard and I definitely knew I was doing cardio. There are a LOT of lunges, squats, etc. I'm not going to lie, there was a lot of effort involved. There is one girl on the video who does a modified workout so you can follow her when it's too intense. I followed her when I just couldn't take it anymore. I also didn't do the push up segment, because again, I have a concrete floor and I like my knees. I need to get an exercise mat for that segment. I just ran in place during that part. Even with modified movements and missing the push ups, it was a really intense workout. Just in level one! I was huffing and puffing and today I am sooo sore. But I still liked it. It was intense enough for me to really feel it but I didn't feel bad about the modifications and I felt like this was a workout I could slowly work up to doing more of. It was more lower body than upper body (as evidenced by my truly sore and tired butt and thighs) but since that's where most of my weight is, I think that's okay.

The verdict? I'm going to get this DVD. It's $8.99 on Amazon and I'll need to get a workout mat to do the floor exercises but I think doing it a couple of times a week (not the 4-5 they recommend, I would die before the end of week one!) will help me improve my strength and endurance. Don't try this workout if you have bad knees or ankles as it's pretty high impact. It also has a nice 'music only option' for once you get the routine down and don't want to listen to the same banter over and over again. (I wish that was a feature on my Leslie Sansone tapes, I do get tired of the babble.) The people on this tape, even if they aren't super fat, still look like normal people and they are really sweating as they exercise which made me feel better about myself. Overall, a good workout for most beginner and intermediate exercisers. I'll have to check out levels two and three after I get better at level one.

For the next review I'll be doing "The Bollywood Dance Workout with Hemalayaa". That is, once I can move my legs again.

Tips for Raising an 87 Year Old

Today we will 'lose' our outside support system. Medicare and the insurance company will only pay for the nurse and physical therapist for a certain period of time and now that The Graminator's bedsore is nearly healed and she's walking they are going to discharge her. In a way I'm glad, because the nursing visits were mostly non-existent for the past month and while I loved her physical therapist Nathan (a great guy who not only remembered the Miller Family Steakhouse, a beloved and long gone restaurant of my youth, he actually worked there so we probably saw each other a zillion times and never knew it) at a certain point he was just repeating the same exercises because now it's only repetition that will get her stronger. I'll miss Linda, the CNA, the most, because she helped give The Graminator showers a couple of times a week and now I'll have to do it alone. I loved chatting with Nathan and Linda because they were awesome people who dedicate their lives to helping others and because they were cool. They both taught me a lot about how to care for The Graminator and I will always be grateful for them.

So here are a few things I have learned from them and on my own as I raise my very own 87 year old. (Many of these tips may also be applicable to toddlers.)

1. If you hook a gait belt through the back of the couch, you can make your own safety belt. But tuck the buckle behind them because roving fingers can sometimes get it open.
2. Commode chairs can actually do double duty as shower chairs.
3. Recipe for a 600+ calorie mocha: 3 heaping tablespoons weight gainer, 2 teaspoons Benefiber, 1 Tablespoon Scharffen Berger sweetened cocoa powder, 1 packet instant coffee and 1 cup half and half. Yes, it's crazy but it's helped The Graminator gain back three of the pounds she lost.
4. The Wal-Mart brand of Depends are actually better that the name brand and about 3 dollars less. Buy the pull up kind and they feel like big girl underwear, but you can still rip them down the side seams for easy exit if necessary.
5. Connect the dot puzzles are good for mental reasoning. Buy the K-1 and they are pretty easy to read for older eyes.
6. They won't always tell you when they have to go to the bathroom, so look for body clues and have them sit on the potty chair occasionally just to 'see if you can go'.
7. Tell them they won't get dessert if they don't eat their meal (but give them dessert anyway because they need the calories.)
8. Make them read out loud to you.
9. Even if it's easier for you to do it, make them do things themselves to give them a better sense of independence.
10. Patience isn't a virtue, it's a necessity.

Remember to love them and treasure them, because they won't always be with you.

Why I Love America

There are lots of reasons I love America. But today it's because this is a country about hope and damn-it-all determination.

You all know that I am trying to lose a few pounds before my brother's wedding. (And the dreaded dominatrix costume for Vegas Schmegas.) I have lost six pounds in the last two weeks through a novel diet I developed called 'eat less and exercise more' (a radical new diet, books will fly off of store shelves). Some days are better than others (Hebrew National 97% Fat Free Hot Dogs taste like HOT DOGS and have only 45 calories per dog and are made from MEAT!) and it's about putting myself into the mindset of eating healthy and indulging occasionally instead of indulging constantly and eating healthy occasionally. (And major Kudos to Maura, who is following her own sensible eating an exercise regimen, you go girl!)

So this morning I read a story about a shortage of bananas in Japan because young girls are obsessed with the Morning Banana diet. Apparently young Japanese women are diet crazy (yeah, because of all of those fat Japanese people, sure) and will follow any fad. The latest is this Morning Banana Diet, where you have a banana and room temperature water for breakfast, anything you want for lunch and dinner, no desserts and go to bed by midnight. (Because if you feed them after midnight they turn into Gremlins) People are going so crazy for this diet that Japan can't get any more bananas. (I'm imagining a black market for bananas, guys in back alleys selling bananas for big money to desperate teenage Japanese girls.) Silly diet and silly girls. Of course, I live in a country that invented the grapefruit diet, so who am I to talk?

Then I saw a story that warmed the cockles of my heart (to paraphrase Denis Leary, more like the sub-cockle region really.) It was about a man, an AMERICAN, who ate a 15 POUND hamburger (cheeseburger, to be exact.) Nicknamed the 'Beer Barrel Belly Bruiser' the thing, with bun and toppings it weighed more than twenty pounds. Now there is a man I could love. Because he didn't do it for fame or fortune (he got $400 and three t-shirts from the bar that made the burger) but because he "wanted to see if I could". Bravo, that's the American spirit. Having been dreaming of cheeseburgers for the past week, I envy this man, although the picture looks like the burger had provolone cheese whereas my choice would have been cheddar and it had mild hot peppers while I'm a pickle girl. Still, with a cup each of mayo, mustard and ketchup, this man ate enough calories for a small third world country, just to see if he could. (I imagine he was promptly stomped to death by a herd of angry cattle as he left the bar.) Still, I admire Brad Scuillo of Uniontown, PA for his grit, determination and complete lack of care for his cardiovascular system. It's because of Americans like Brad that we will not only persevere through this economic crisis, but will once again thumb our noses at the rest of the world because we are indeed the greatest country on the planet and if a twenty pound cheeseburger doesn't prove that, I don't know what will.

The Comedy Kid Rides Again

I know it's been a LONG time since I've done a stand up gig, so for all of you who have been waiting so patiently to see me (in town too!) come out this Saturday night to the Redstone Grill at Tropicana and Fort Apache at 10pm, It's got a nice setup, with a stage and lights. This is NOT an open mic, but what the producers hope will become a permanent locals comedy club, for those who don't want to go to the strip. I'll be opening for Bill Tucker, a really funny (and incredibly energetic) comic who I've known for years.

Many people ask me how I became a comic. It's a strange but wonderful tale. I was bored, at home, doing nothing and decided I needed to get out of the house. So I decided to take some classes at the college, the continuing education kind, the ones you take for fun. I took "How to Buy a Home" which was to teach me how to save for a down payment, get financing, what I could afford, etc. (This, dear children, was the late 1990's, before you could buy a half million dollar home with only your dog as a credit reference.) The other class was "How to Be A Comedian".

It was taught by a guy named Charlie Brooks, who claimed to be related to the great actor and director Albert Brooks, except that Albert Brooks' real name is Albert Einstein, but I never told him that I knew better. (My first show biz lesson.) I thought from the course description that we would be watching videos of comedians like Eddie Murphy and Dennis Miller. You know, the abstract theory of how to be a comedian, not the practicum. So imagine my surprise when Charlie announced at the first class that in four weeks we would be performing on stage at the Alexis Park Hotel. I thought to myself "No way dude, I can't do that!" I went to my mom's house after class that night and told my brother and mother the same thing. In the next sentence that followed I said to them "What do you think of this as a joke?" and proceeded to tell them a joke that I had written in the car on the way to their house. (The first joke I ever wrote? "Growing up in Vegas I learned that sex is a lot like gambling... except that when you lose at blackjack, you don't have to put the dealer through college.")

So four weeks later I was at the Alexis Park Hotel with my classmates, or at least the ones that hadn't dropped out after the first class. (Apparently there were a lot of people who didn't know that performing would be involved.) I don't remember them all but I remember Kelly and Judy and of course, my comedy soul mate Chandler. Kelly bought me a shot of tequila at the bar which was when I learned not to do shots before going on stage, not that I got drunk, just that it sat at the bottom of my stomach and made it worse than the butterflies before it. (Judy got me not one, but two gigs at a Federal Penitentiary!) My whole family came out to see, my mom and dad (the only time my dad saw me do comedy). my brother, The Graminator, plus a whole bunch of friends from work (who, as my friend Richard put it, "came to see you bomb") But, it turns out, I have a natural knack for making people laugh. (Richard said "But you didn't".) I managed to make it through my set and when I came off stage a producer of another comedy club approached me and told me I was good and asked me how long I had been doing comedy. I told him "ten minutes", he said "no, seriously, how long have you been doing comedy?" and I said "Ten minutes. That was my first set, ever." He told me I was good and invited me to come do a set at his club that weekend. I did and it was my first paying gig so I made money the first week I did comedy. (Ten bucks.) It even got me thinking of a stage name, since none of the announcers could ever seem to pronounce my name (Seriously, Wilhite is not that hard to pronounce. But when they started calling me Shae Whitehead, I knew I had to change it. I mean, who wants to be known as a pimple? So I go by Shae Denin - a derivation of my paternal grandmother's maiden name -- and wouldn't you know it, the first time I went on stage the emcee pronounced it Da-neen.)

And that, as they say, was history. Except for the open mics performing for four drunks and sixteen other comics who ripped my set to shreds. And the gigs like the one where the guy who hosted asked me never to bring my brother to another show again (because my brother got more laughs heckling than the comic did) and all the trips that Chandler and I took to L.A. to work at The Improv, The Icehouse and The Laugh Factory (driving to LA, waiting all day to see if we made it onto the show, changing clothes in the gas station rest room, performing and driving back to Vegas in under twenty-four hours, not to mention the eight Denny's we ate/peed/slept in the parking lot of.) When I signed up for the class, I never would have believed that I would be in a show on the Las Vegas Strip for nine months, doing two shows a night, six nights a week, but it taught me so much without ever having to go out on the road. I never would have dreamed I would open for comics like Ray Romano, Bob Saget, Janeane Garolfalo and Margaret Cho. I never thought I would be named best new comic in Las Vegas and win a thousand dollars for it (my biggest comedy paycheck to date.) All from a class where I thought I'd be watching television in.

Now I don't do comedy as much because I played it safe and stayed with the day job while Chandler took his shot and moved to L.A. (and now came home, but at least he tried.) Now I'm writing which isn't as much instant gratification as performing but I don't have to put clothes and makeup on to do it. But every now and then, I get the chance to get back on stage. And let me tell you, there is no feeling I like better in this world than when I know I've made people laugh and have a good time and forget about their troubles for a little while. It is a gift, not one that I give to the audience, but one that they give to me. How cool is that?

So if you are in Vegas this Saturday night and you want to laugh, c'mon and check it out. I'll be the one with the microphone.

I Hate Skinny People

Okay, maybe hate is too strong a word. Let's just say I'm not a fan. Especially of people who have no idea of what it's like to struggle with weight issues. The worst are the ones who are a size four who exclaim "Oh, I am soooo fat!". I just want to hit those people. Look, call me when you can box in the light heavyweight division (over 178 lbs.) and then maybe I'll feel something for you but until then shut up and eat a sandwich already.

I have been overweight since childhood. It didn't help that my paternal grandmother made me breakfast every morning and by breakfast I mean enough food to fuel a lumberjack for a full day, (When it came time for finals when I was in high school she would make an extra big breakfast as "brain food". A huge T-Bone steak, eggs, hash browns, toast, the works. Granted, I had a pretty big brain but I also had a pretty big ass.) And I've never let my weight hold me back from anything I wanted to do (well, it may have hindered my career as a ballerina but since I never wanted to be a ballerina it's okay.) My blood pressure is normal, my cholesterol is fine and (knock on wood), I have been really healthy.

But I'm getting older and after I turned thirty-five I noticed that my weight hung a few inches lower that it ever had been. While I've always been a pear shape, I don't want to end up a pyramid. So I want to lose a little weight. Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to be overweight. Just slightly less overweight. And then my goal is to keep that weight off instead of gaining it back. I'd rather lose twenty pounds and keep it off than lose fifty and gain it all back (been there, done that, bought the t-shirt, then had to exchange it for a bigger size.) And as much as I hate exercise, (and I do, I despise it with a passion usually reserved for fascist dictators) I know that it will help me stay healthy. (Still hate it.)

The media makes so much about thin these days. Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, they would be considered heifers these days. The media is blasting Eva Longoria for being fat (what the hell?!?, my right thigh is bigger than she is.) And those girls on the new "90210" look as thought they could star as starving children in a Sally Struthers infomercial. Please, can we have a Hollywood actress who looks somewhat realistic? I'm not talking a size twelve or fourteen (even if that is pretty normal) but maybe a size ten?

Dieting is hard. Oh, I can cook up some great healthy recipes but inside, all I want is a cheeseburger (and I mean a cheeseburger, not a soy patty on a whole wheat bun with fat free cheese.) I saw one website that had lo-cal chili cheese fries. I was intrigued since I am somewhat of a chili cheese fry aficionado. When I looked at the recipe it was soy chili and fat free cheese over BUTTERNUT SQUASH FRIES! What taste-bud missing moron came up with that!?! Now I happen to like roasted butternut squash but it tastes NOTHING like a french fry, nothing at all. And to top it with soy chili and fat free cheese makes me want to upchuck my egg white omelet and dry whole wheat toast breakfast. Please, I'd rather have one lonely, single, solitary real chili cheese fry than a whole plate of that crap. If that's what skinny people eat, I'd rather be fat and happy than skinny and doomed to a life of pseudo-food.

This morning I woke up starving and not wanting to exercise and I was going to say 'eff this' and have a real breakfast when I stepped on the scale and found I had lost two pounds. Dammit. So instead I walked my two miles and had my crappy, er, I mean healthy breakfast and I guess I'll stick with it a little while longer. But I still want a cheeseburger.

Wish List

I have no idea what to post about today and I'm feeling pretty uncreative (I think it's the lack of food) so I'm just going to post my wish list, of things I'm wishing for.

1. I wish the election were already over so there wouldn't be any more television ads, phone calls and people knocking on my door trying to get my vote.
2. I wish I could make my grandma better.
3. I wish I had enough money to make my family comfortable.
4. I wish the foods that are 'good' for you tasted as good as the foods that are 'bad' for you.
5. I wish exercise wasn't a chore. Ditto for dieting.
6. I wish that houses cleaned themselves.
7. I wish they would stop telling people that their television sets will stop working on February 17th because they won't, they just won't receive an analog signal any more.
8. I wish Jon Porter would stop those "Tax-us" ads against Dina Titus. She's from Georgia, you moron.
9. I wish the body shop would fix my mom's car quickly.

But as my Dad used to say to me when I was a kid, "If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride." Of course, I always wondered why in the heck beggars would want a horse, wouldn't they wish for money or something useful? Oh well.

Post No Graffiti

I welcome comments on this blog. This blog is an important part of my life and I try to take it seriously. I also try to listen to my Loyal Readers and I enjoy the feedback.

But please, do not leave comments of pure profanity for no apparent reason. If you want to be profane, at least be creative about it. And be honest enough to use your real name. Anonymous profanity is the equivalent of just writing graffiti on my blog and it's not cool.

Thanks to everyone who reads my blog, you make me a better writer and keep me motivated. And thanks to everyone who leaves creative, constructive comments, your voice is always appreciated!

The stock market is in free fall, world economy in collapse, natural disasters occurring in alarming numbers, a presidential election of historic proportion...it's ARMAGEDDON! What are we going to do!?!

My philosophy of life has always been that you can laugh or you can cry and I choose laughter every time. For those who didn't catch "Saturday Night Live Weekend Update Thursday" (is that a huge mouthful of title or what?) watch this clip. Most of it is pretty darn funny, especially the "Really? Oh My God Are you Serious?" segment that is at the end of the clip (forward to 4:22 if you are in a hurry, it totally sums up the ridiculousness of the whole financial crisis.)



Laugh and enjoy and remember the words of REM..."It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine!"

Memories

Yesterday we had an appointment at The Memory Clinic. When The Graminator was in the hospital, someone referred her to the clinic. When they called us to schedule an appointment, I thought it was a big waste of time. We already knew she had Alzheimer's and she was on Aricept, so really, what more could we do?

I made the appointment anyway because the woman on the phone said it was very difficult to get an appointment with Dr. Singh and I figured I could always cancel it. Boy, am I glad we didn't. Can I just say that while The Graminator has a yucky HMO insurance (which both my mother and I have as well, because it's cheap and I'm an unemployed writer and my mom works at a day old bread store so what are you going to do?) we have found her doctors to be EXCEPTIONAL. I love her primary care doctor, Dr. Johnson, who looks like a middle aged housewife and nothing like a doctor and I found Dr. Singh to be totally cool.

First they gave The Graminator these somewhat bogus memory tests, some of which she couldn't do, not because of her memory but because of her vision issues. The tests really made my mom mad but we really weren't supposed to talk. Finally when the nurse was asking The Graminator what a specific item was (it was his watch) my mom got upset. The Graminator had never had a digital watch before so she had no idea what it was. My mom said "If I wanted to know what time it is, what would I look at?", to which The Graminator replied "Not that ugly thing!" (Yes, it was a big, ugly black plastic digital watch. My grandma is used to petite gold analog watches.)

Then Dr. Singh came in. We had looked him up on the Internet and it turns out that he is the head of Geriatrics for Southwest Medical. He is Sikh, I think, with the turban and beard and everything. He asked The Graminator some more questions but they were more interesting and relevant. He was totally funny too. When he noticed that The Graminator seemed hard of hearing he asked how long that had been going on. When we told him it was recent, since the fall, he looked in her ears. When he put the light thing in her left ear he asked my mom if she could see the light coming out the other side. Too funny. It turns out The Graminator has some wax in her ears which is affecting her hearing. Everyone else just put it down to old age. He said we could take her to an audiologist too but warned that hearing aids could run several thousand dollars. We'll see how the ear drops he prescribed do.

He also told us to have her vision checked again. He mentioned that while memory loss does happen as we age, we can slow it down and part of that is stimulating the brain, visually, audibly, etc. He prescribed an additional Alzheimer's drug, Namenda, to slow the progression of her memory loss. He said we can't get memory back (so we are stuck with her having little short term memory) but that we can keep her where she is and keep her quality of life intact. Without intervention, he said not only would she forget who and where she was, but even forget how to eat, etc. But he gave us lots of hope for that never happening. Today I'm going to buy her some flash cards and toys to play with to stimulate her brain (see, it really is like raising a two year old.)

He told us to stop the cholesterol medicine she is on (at 87 with no history of stroke or heart attack he said it was unnecessary) and to get her on a osteoporosis medication. He also gave us a lot of information on Reclast, the injectible osteoporosis drug and recommended it for my mom too, who has been having trouble with the other drugs like Boniva and Actonel and now is even having trouble taking simple calcium (it's causing terrible stomach issues.) He was AWESOME, really helpful and communicative and fun. He also said that my Grandma was blessed to have us, and that taking care of her at home was the best possible thing we could ever do. It make me very glad that I can be there for her, and very sad that so many seniors don't have that support system. I can't tell you how many people have commented on us and our care for her. It seems strange to me that we would be the exception and not the rule.

Did you know that life expectancy now is 78, but if you live to be 85 that your life expectancy actually goes UP to 91 or 92? And if you make it to 100, your life expectancy goes up again, to 102? But you got to take care of your brain, people. As you age, your brain loses important chemicals which causes memory loss. At the next appointment I am going to ask Dr. Singh what my mom and I can do to help our brains too, even when we are younger. I'll let you know. But right now, stimulate your brain with television and books and art and color and simple math. I believe that part who I am comes from my memories and experiences and I don't ever want to lose that!

Life Isn't Fair

My father used to tell me that all the time when I would rail about the injustices of the world, and he was right. It isn't fair. But you make the best of it.

Unless, of course, you are a little kid in which case adults make all the rules and you don't get a say in it. Take the case of the little girl in Nepal who had just been named the new "kumari" or living goddess to be worshipped by Hindus and Buddhists as the incarnation of the Hindu deity Taleju. Sounds pretty good, right? Especially since she was chosen from an impoverished caste (if you ever doubt that life is unfair, just look at the caste system sometime!). She will now live in a palatial temple swathed in red silk and have devotees bow their heads to her feet. Sounds good, right?

Well, to find this goddess they interview these 2- to 4-year old girls by looking at their horoscopes and then making sure she has perfect hair, eyes, teeth and skin, and then making sure she isn't afraid of the dark. How do they do that? By making her spend a night alone in a room full of ritually slaughtered goat and buffalo heads without showing fear. Yeah, that sounds like fun for a three year old.

After she is chosen she gets to be taken from her parents and live in almost complete isolation (except for holy days when she gets the feet bowing thing) until she reaches puberty when she is no longer holy any more and some new little kid takes her place. Yeah, silk ribbons until you get your period then they toss you out like yesterday's newspaper. Oh, and there is this rumor that men who marry former kumaris die young so no one wants to marry you. Which is okay because living in isolation since you were three probably doesn't give you much in the way of social skills.

Look, I'm not going to judge any one's religious practices but you really need to ask yourself if it's the practice is truly necessary. Do they really need to do that to little girls? It would be one thing if she were an adult and could make that decision on on her own but she isn't. Hey, we would all be upset if there was a religion still practicing virgin sacrifice, wouldn't we? And isn't that what this is in essence? You use her innocence and then when she isn't 'innocent' any more you send her out into a world that she isn't prepared for nor will truly accept her back. Ick. The things that are done in the name of religion never cease to amaze me. And not to go into a feminist diatribe here but doesn't it seem that in most religions, women get the short end of the stick?

So life isn't fair. But I guess it could always be worse.

Making a Real Effort

Okay, so I have been lazy. Oh, I know that I have a lot going on and it's very easy to use that as an excuse for not getting things done but the fact of the matter is that if I organized myself a little better I could accomplish more.

Val asked me yesterday to be her Maid of Honor. That means I need to fit into a dress and not embarrass myself or my brother and his new wife in their wedding pictures. For any one who doesn't know my 'fat assed saga', I have always been 'fluffy" (doesn't that sound cuter than fat? Like I'm filled with creamy nougat or something..) A few years ago I started working out and eating healthy and I lost 55 pounds. Then I stopped exercising and started eating crap again and gained back 54. But I know it's not healthy for me to to be sedentary (my eating habits are now actually quite good, since I have to cook for more than just myself and I've stopped eating fast food again.) I'd like to lose 30 pounds by the wedding (which is in seven months so that's totally do-able). So I got out my in-home walking DVDs and I'll start walking two miles a day again and trying to work out on the Wii Fit for twenty minutes three or four times a week. That should boost my metabolism and if I cut out eating dessert (except on Sundays when the constant cupcake testing occurs) I should be able to drop the weight I want and get into better shape. I'm also playing a dominatrix in a skimpy outfit in a month for Vegas Schmegas so losing a few pounds before then won't kill me.

I've also been slacking on my writing but that's going to change too. Yes, The Graminator needs constant supervision but there are four computers in this house, two of which are laptops so there really isn't any excuse. Yes, I like working on my Mac the best but sometimes you just have to suck it up. Dyann and Maura have both finished their novels and if I want to do the same I really have to put the work in. It will only benefit me in the long run. (CONGRATULATIONS DYANN!!!!!!!) I'd like to finish it this month but with pre-production really gearing up for the VS shoot, I'm going to cut myself some slack and say by the end of November. If I finish early, great. But that's my 'deadline'. I have other stories that need to be told and I can't write them until this one is out of me. So I gotta just do it.

I have about a zillion other projects that I need to start or finish or both. No more excuses, no more delays. The rest of my life starts today and I've got to make it a good one. When I finish my life story, I want to know that I did everything I could, not just sat around and daydreamed it!

Trying Out Wedding Cakes

No, not for me (don't I wish) but for Will and Val.

They finally set a date. May 2, 2009. They really wanted to get married at the Clark County Heritage Museum, which is this cool place where they took old homes and things to this one site and restored them with period furniture, etc. Yes, most of the things are from the 1940's and 1950's, but in Las Vegas, that's historic. At the end of this street of houses and things is a gazebo and that's where they want to get married. They are restoring an old wedding chapel too but won't be done in time for the wedding. The museum doesn't usually host weddings but Val called and talked to a very nice woman who went to the Board and got them to approve it. The site will only cost them a $200 donation and they have benches for guests to sit on and everything. They are still looking for a reception location but they think they know where they want that too.

So I volunteered a long time ago to make their wedding cakes. I say cakes because instead of one tiered cake they wanted several individual cakes that we would put on a multi-level stand. But now with all the cupcake baking I've been doing lately, Val thinks she might want cupcakes instead. I told them I had even see a cupcake stand that you could put an eight inch round cake on top so they could still have a cake to cut with a topper and then individual cupcakes on the other tiers. So now we need to decide on flavors so that I can perfect them over the next few months so that I can do them in my sleep by wedding time.



The 'theme' of the wedding is cherry blossoms and I am working on making a gazillion cherry blossoms out of gum paste to decorate the cake and cupcakes with. I could buy the flowers but since I have some 'free time" I thought I would try making them. They don't look too hard once you get the knack. I also need to work on a cherry cupcake. My brother suggested a cherry cheesecake cupcake and I want to make them happy but also remain true to myself as a baker. So I'm going to try this weekend and make a cupcake with chopped cherries (real ones, not marachino) in it with a graham cracker bottom and frosted with a marscapone cheesecake frosting. I'll see how it works and how they like it. The main cake for them to cut would (hopefully) look like the top picture.



While surfing the Web for ideas, I came across these cupcake wrappers. Aren't they adorable? I'm thinking if we put the cakes in a pink liner then into these they would look amazing. We will decorate the cupcake stand with ribbons, flowers, etc. What do you think? I want everything to be perfect for them so I've got to get to work!

Book Club

Monday night was book club. Book club was started a couple of years ago by my friend Tina. Tina is an incredibly social person who I would like to emulate but I'm way too shy. She is definitely the social director of the group. I like her friends really well and they have become my friends by osmosis. I don't call them to go hang out or anything but then they don't call me either. But I always enjoy their company and I was really grateful for their love and support on Supermodels. It's funny how friends of friends become friends and I have been to their homes and they have been to mine, etc. They are so cool.

Tina started book club to A) read and B) get a chance to get caught up with people socially. We are supposed to talk abut the book for at least fifteen minutes. Most of the time, one or more people doesn't even finish the book. We read three or four books, then Tina had her son Avi and we just sort of lapsed. (See, I told you Tina was the social director of the crew.) Usually after reading the book we meet at some one's house for dinner and discussion. We had a 'cocktail party' and movie viewing after we read "Valley of the Dolls". (It was my pick and we had just done "Assassination Vacation" and I wanted to read something trashy after that.) We did "The Historian" in late September and I did a fall dinner with curried pumpkin soup, mushroom duxelles crepes and baby caramel apples with winter fruit sangria (Hey, it was a book about vampires, you gotta have dark red wine, right?) After that Avi was born and no more book club.



I was surprised about six weeks ago to find a package from Tina in the mail. It was a book with a note that said we were re-starting book club and this was the first book. It was "The Wonder Spot" by Melissa Bank (who wrote "The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing") and Tina chose it because it was the only five dollar sale book on Amazon that had ten copies. She sent one to each of us with a note to "try to read". Via email later we set the date. Okay, honesty time. I meant to read the book right away but it came when The Graminator was in the hospital and it got pushed aside, then under a pile of other stuff. I might not have read it at all except that on Sunday Val and I were talking and she mentioned that she was reading "Valley of the Dolls" because it was on the Real Simple online book club list. I told her that we had read it for our book club (I'm as hip as the editors at Real Simple, apparently) which triggered in my pea brain that I had book club the next night and I hadn't read the book yet. I dug around my room until I found it and read it. Fortunately it was an easy read and only about three hundred and twenty pages. I finished it around five on Monday, two hours before the book club meeting. I'm glad I did because this was the first time we had all read the book!

We met for dinner at Marche Bacchus, a wine store and restaurant on the lake at Desert Shores. (For those not from Las Vegas, we have no real lakes, only man-made ones. The most famous, of course, is Lake Mead, made when they built the Boulder (Hoover) Dam, and it's the largest man-made lake in the United States. But we have several smaller ones they created so rich people could have waterfront property in the middle of the desert. The biggest and most expensive, Lake Las Vegas (which isn't in Las Vegas) is actually kind of gross, it smells really bad sometimes. Anyway, the restaurant was on the water at Desert Shore and we sat outside. It was a little warm (about ninety degrees at seven p.m., that's what fall is like in Vegas. It's supposed to get down to eighty-five by Saturday, then go back into the nineties. Ugh. What I would give for crisp fall weather!) The restaurant was nice but pretty pricey. You know it's expensive when the wine is the cheapest thing you order. It was good food and I enjoyed it, just overpriced. Tina had halibut with mashed potatoes and it was thirty-two dollars. Hello, do you know how much fish and mashed potatoes I can make for thirty bucks? I probably wouldn't have minded spending sixty-five dollars on dinner if I wasn't an unemployed writer. Oh well, the company was awesome and we actually found a nice red wine that I liked and it was only eighteen dollars a bottle, plus ten percent off of that on Mondays. It was called "Row Eleven" and it was a lovely California Pinot Noir and I highly recommend it.

The book was okay, not my favorite and I wasn't a fan of the disjointed chapter style. As Tina put it, "I liked it but would have a hard time recommending it to someone." it was about the life of a Jewish woman named Sophie Applebaum and her commitment phobic dysfunctional life (love and family) from age twelve to about thirty-five. Our next book is "Lunar Park' by Brett Easton Ellis and I ordered it from the library (unemployed writer who blew all of her spending money on the book club dinner.) I'm glad book club is back, it gives me a chance to get out socially a little at a time when I do so very little socializing. I had a great time talking books and food, my two most favorite subjects!

The Economic Crisis

Okay, I'm going to weigh in with my two cents on the current economic crisis.

Anyone who says they couldn't see this coming wasn't paying any attention. The housing market was so artificially inflated that it was silly. Houses in my mom's neighborhood were selling for $280k. These are forty-five year old, twelve hundred square feet track homes people. Now the two foreclosures next door are selling for $99K. And I don't think it's hit rock bottom yet.

Here is how I see it happened. Greed, pure and simple. Oh, everyone can tell you that it wasn't, that it was just people wanting the "American" dream, to own their own house. Just like in the 1950's. But it isn't true. People wanted BIG houses, then BIGGER houses. The average home size in the 1950's was 1,100 square feet. The average home size today is 2,342 square feet. With smaller families than there were in the 1950's. And people were determined to get the BIGGEST home they 'could afford' even if that meant an "interest only" or 'adjustable rate' mortgage, with the 'knowledge' that home prices would rise and they could re-finance and take out their equity and buy an even BIGGER house. But that's a little like taking your paycheck to the casino to bet it all on red. The house always wins. Yes, some people may come out ahead but most people are going to lose it all. But greed drove the market.

I'm not just blaming individuals. It's the fault of greedy mortgage brokers who pushed through half-million dollar loans for people who made $12.75 an hour. It's the fault of greedy real estate agents who sold houses that cost too much to people who they new darn well couldn't afford it. It's the fault of greedy Wall Street brokers who bought all those 'mortgage backed securities' and packaged them again and again, knowing full well that they were faulty to begin with.

Now the taxpayers of this country are being asked to kick in $700 BILLION dollars to bail out all of these greedy people. I'm kind of ticked off about this because I wasn't one of the greedy ones. No one in my family was. My mom could have sold her house and bought a bigger one but she didn't because she owns her home, free and clear, and she knew it was smarter to have no payments than to buy a giant house and owe hundreds of thousands of dollars. But she and I and you will be paying for that greed anyway. Not fair, but as my dad used to say, nothing in life is fair.

The reason given for this bailout is to stabilize Wall Street and keep the U.S. economy strong. There are guys much smarter than me that think this is the solution and without talking to them face-to-face, I can't really argue that they are wrong. But I do know this...if the American economy fails, the whole world falls. It is in the best interest of the entire WORLD to keep America strong. Because all of those growing economies like China and India will have no one to buy all of the goods and services they sell. America consumes eighty percent of the world's goods. Without our consumption, the rest of the world's economies fail too. Simple math. We can't support the rest of the world if we have no money.

I think there will be a lot more stability once the election is over. No matter who wins, people will be able to see who the leader of the free world will be. Housing prices will eventually bottom out and people will be able to afford houses again. Of course, it will be tougher to get a loan but that's how it was for our parents who needed things like down payments and proof of income. And maybe we will learn the lesson that wanting the dream is fine, we just need to be realistic as to what that dream should be. You don't NEED a McMansion and a gas guzzling Hummer. Buy what you can afford. Save for a rainy day. Sure, it isn't much fun, but neither is a foreclosed house and a bad credit rating.

Prepping the Pilot

We are gearing up for full production mode for the "Vegas Schmegas" pilot that we start filming on November 1st. We have the final table read this Saturday. Some of the biggest production tasks are taken care of, like the motel we are shooting exteriors at (thanks Irwin!) and the insurance bonds we need (thanks ProWerks!). We still have a few more to nail down, like renting a poker table and renting a convertible (anyone out there have a white or black convertible they want to loan for two scenes?) I also have to get myself a dominatrix outfit. Yes, I know, it won't be pretty but that's kind of the joke. I have been web surfing to find something that I won't die of embarrassment wearing but a lot of things are expensive and even if I weren't poor (which I am) I don't want to pay a bunch of money for some leather fetish outfit that I will never wear again...unless I decide to make some money on the side. JUST KIDDING!!! (Anyone got a riding crop and leather dog collar they want to loan me?)

I'm looking forward to working on this. It will be filmed like a feature film. We have actual crew members instead of us all doing everything. I found a lovely young woman to be our script supervisor from the woman who taught me how to do the job (thanks Penny!). We still need someone to assist with hair and makeup (anyone want to be the next Max Factor?) and we are still looking for extras for a scene in the park on November 7th. If anyone is interested in being in a scene or just wants to check out filming, let me know.

I had to write a press synopsis of the show as we looked for potential investors and here is the press clip.
"WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS WILL NO LONGER STAY IN VEGAS!
The VDE team announced early Monday that they are now in pre-production on a new comedy sitcom pilot. The project, tentatively titled VEGAS SCHMEGAS, is a recurring character sketch comedy show along the lines of the international hit Little Britain. From the award winning filmmakers at Vision Dynamics Entertainment and shot in state-of-the-art high definition, VEGAS SCHMEGAS is perfect for standard television, cable and even Internet broadcast. VEGAS SCHMEGAS's colorful characters will be instantly recognizable to anyone familiar with the legend and lore that is Las Vegas."

There is actually a longer synopsis that goes into detail about some of the characters, etc. but I'll save that for closer to the release date. With everything going on with The Graminator I have felt less than creative so it will be good to get back into things. I am going to have to find a sitter for some of the filming days but my friend Kelley at ATM&S gave me a lead on someone so I'm going to call her, or if that doesn't work, check into a respite care provider.

In other stuff, I had a great birthday and I want to thank everyone who sent birthday wishes. It was nice not to be forgotten! I know I'm getting older because I asked for (and got) face cream and new pillows for my birthday. I haven't been sleeping well for the past few weeks but it's better with the new pillows and the face cream helps me look like I got a better night's sleep!

Lavender, the garden cat, is now Lavender, the home and garden cat. She comes into the house every morning and spends most of the day sleeping under The Graminator's bed. She also likes to jump on the couch and have me pet her. Which makes my dog jealous so I have to pet her too. So I have a dog on one side and a cat on the other. My allergies haven't bothered me too badly but I brush Lavender every other day and we try to vacuum a lot too. She still sleeps outside but I'm sure that will change when it gets cooler. My mom bought the cat an eighteen pound bag of food so I guess we have decided to keep her. Mom says we are still looking for a home for her though, so if anyone wants a very loving and friendly full grown cat, let me know.

I'll comment on the bizarre twist of John McCain suspending his campaign when I figure out why he did it. There is something going on that I can't quite understand and I don't like it, it makes me feel uneasy. As uneasy as a $700 billion dollar bailout but that's inevitable. This campaign strategy though is really weird on McCain's part.

And finally, Ted McGinley got kicked off "dancing with the Stars" last night. I thought it would be Susan Lucci or Kim Kardashian but I guess they have more fans. It's a shame, he was a better dancer who worked really hard. But I guess there aren't as many fans of "Married with Children" or "The Love Boat" anymore. And I was sure America wouldn't vote off Cloris this week, which is very nice, but she needs to go next week people. It's painful to watch her 'pseudo-dancing'. Tonight is the premieres of "Survivor: Gabon" and "My Name is Earl" and "The Office" - bring on the entertainment!

Ten Reason I Could Never Be on Dancing With The Stars

10. I'm not a B-List Celebrity.
9. Two left feet, tied to 2 uncoordinated legs, connected to totally spastic body.
8. Boobs are way too small compared to other women on the show.
7. Allergic to feathers and sequins since my showgirl days.
6. Impossible to listen to criticism from Len without crying.
5. Would injure or kill partner trying to lift me.
4. Restraining order from Tom Bergeron requires me to stay at least 500 feet away.
3. I get dizzy when I spin.
2. Can't understand a word Bruno is saying.
1. I hate spray tans.

Last night Jeffrey Ross went home (as he should, he was awful, and unfunny too). Tonight I think it'll be Susan Lucci. Cloris Leachman should go, but she's so darn hammy that America might keep her another week. She's terrible, and not really dancing at all, but she's 82 and once you factor that in she's not all that bad. I don't think she'll make it past next week if she doesn't go home tonight, it's funny now but the shtick is going to wear thin really quickly. My early favorites are Lance Bass and Brooke Burke. This three night thing is too long though. Five hours the first week? Give me a break. But Mom and The Graminator like it too so what's a girl to do but TiVo everything else and settle in for a little dancing?

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Nope, it isn't Christmas, (although if retailer's have their way, we will be buying Christmas stuff now) it's the new fall TV season.

Yay for all the new shows! And the fact that they started on my birthday was really nice of them. I love new TV (I love any TV, who am I kidding). Now kiddies, back in the old days, when we only had 5 channels and you had to choose what new show you would watch. Yes, this was before cable, VDR, DVR, etc. We got a Betamax when I was seven but it wasn't programmable so you had to push the record button when the show came on and you couldn't watch one thing while recording another. We got cable when I was eight but it didn't have a remote and back then MTV just ran music videos.

Today we have TiVo, so I can record two programs at once. I can also watch the new shows 'on demand' on cable and the Internet. Unfortunately, while I'm looking forward to the new season, I'm already disappointed in it. The writer's strike led to fewer pilots and most of the new shows are copies of other shows. "90210" is just a new 90210. "Life on Mars", "Worst Week" and "Eleventh Hour" are all based on British shows, "Kath and Kim" is based on the Australian series and "The Ex-List" is Israeli (seriously?)

I miss a huge fall season with tons of new shows, most of which would be cancelled before you could really get into them (or in the case of "Cave Men" last fall, shows that NEVER should have made it onto the schedule in the first place.) I really miss the oh-so-bad shows like last season's "Viva Laughlin". A musical? Hysterical and I wish they had kept it on a bit longer, it would have made a great drinking game. (Drink a shot every time Melanie Griffith sings)

Still, I am looking forward to the return of "Chuck", "Dancing with the Stars" and "Criminal Minds". And I want to see "Kath and Kim" (I love sitcoms) and "The Mentalist' (Simon Baker is soooo hot). So bring on the shows. My DVR can take it!

Losing Myself Or Finding Out Who I Am?

I have been doing some thinking lately. The Graminator needs full time care, mostly because of her mental state. Physically she's better, much better, so much so I'd say she's 90% back to where she was, which is awesome considering that just a month ago i was afraid she was going to die. But by full time care I mean that she has reached the 'terrible twos' and can't be left alone because you don't know what she's going to do next. Saturday I went to take a quick shower and came out to find her stripping off her clothes. After I got her re-dressed and settled on the couch I went to put some clothes on and heard the unmistakable sound of her taking off her diaper. I came out to find her sitting in poo. She told me the brief 'just fell off'. Sure, while you were sitting down, on the couch, it just fell off and onto the floor. See what I mean, it's like having a toddler, I have to watch her every minute or she's gonna flush her toys down the toilet.

I don't mind taking care of her, I love my family and would do anything for them. But it isn't quite what I expected when I took this sabbatical. It's been very difficult to write. And then I began thinking about when I was working. I got an email from my friend and former boss Jamie. I can't tell you how much I miss her. I'm crying a bit as I write this. I used to talk to her a thousand times a day, about everything. I miss that. I miss chatting with Jan at the front desk. I miss discussing food and movies with Pat. I miss getting hugs from Tammy when one or the other of us was having a rough time in our lives (I could really use a hug now.) I miss talking New Yawk with Antonia. I miss seeing Kelley's quilts and her office decorated for the holiday's. I miss talking politics with Julie K. I miss grumpy Glynn and hanging in the copy room with the runners, and Paul taking my trash every day. I miss Becky and Lisa and Julie A and Sabrina and Nathan and Bruce and Eric and Dave and LeAnn and Lonnie. I miss Mandi and Erin and Jasmin and Anne and treat Thursdays. I miss Kurt's emails and Jon O saying hi in the hallway and Karie and Seetal and Jen and Julie O. I miss Stephanie and Harriet and Lindsay and Kristee and visiting the basement. I could go on until I named every single person who ever worked at Alverson Taylor because of the incredible people I had the pleasure of being around. For seven years I worked with these people and I miss them. I defined myself by what I did and now that person no longer exists, and I miss her too.

Is WHAT I am WHO I am? If so, am I a writer? A filmmaker? A caregiver? A nothing? I'm afraid I'm losing my identity. What, if on this voyage of self-discovery, I find out that I lost myself? I'm not questioning my worth, I know that I am loved and that there are people who appreciate me. I'm asking, how do you determine who you are? No one ever asks a new person that they meet, "so, who are you?" They ask "what do you do?", as though our job is the deciding factor of who we are. So do you lose yourself when you change or don't have a job? I don't think your job is who you are, I know lots of people who hate their jobs so that can't be the definition. Is who you are your dreams and desires? Maybe, but I know lots of people who just dream of winning the lottery so they don't have to do anything so that's not an apt description either. I know you aren't your house or your car or your credit card. Your aren't your friends, despite what MySpace and Facebook users might think, because most of us have a wide and varied group of friends. You certainly aren't your family because as much as we love our families, we didn't exactly get a choice there. Because, as a friend once told me, if we had a choice, we'd all be Kennedys.

It's easy to define myself by what I do, but right now I'm doing everything AND nothing, so it's hard to pin down a description. And I'm certainly not where I thought I'd be in life, not what I though when I was a kid, not what I thought ten years ago, not even what I thought six months ago. Maybe it's getting older (yes, it's THAT day) and maybe it's just the place I'm at in my life. Do you remember when you graduated from high school. And your whole life stretched in front of you, shiny with promise but a little scary too? And you thought you had a plan and you thought that everything would happen exactly how you planned it? Well, that's how I feel right now, only older and wiser to the ways of life. So I'm hopeful and scared and, quite frankly, a little weary and a lot more jaded. My whole life is stretching out before me again. I hope I find me.

Do You Dream In Movie Mode?

This post is about dreams. No, not "I dream of being a successful writer" but the actual REM sleep cycle type dreams. Everybody dreams, even though I know lots of people who say they don't. You have to dream to survive. It's actually a highly active brain time and dreams are a part of that.

I'm a lucid dreamer, meaning that many times I know when I'm dreaming and can control the outcome of the dream. I've done this ever since I was a kid and thought that everyone was like that until I got older and found out that it's actually uncommon. And most of my dreams (whether lucid or not) are "movie" dreams or story dreams, if you will. That means the dream has a beginning, a middle and an end and follows a story line, even if the story is kind of convoluted sometimes. But most of the time my dreams are really like little mini-movies in my head that star me.

Take last nights dream. I dreamed I was helping a friend (one I haven't seen or spoken to in several years) move to a very little house in a very rural setting (think cornfield in Mayberry). For a small town, the townspeople weren't overly friendly and one of them, "Hank" (who lived in the small farmhouse on the adjoining property) was downright hostile to me. This former friend (whom I shall call "Lizzy" to protect her true identity) had met up with a group of unsavory people and brought them back to the house to party. I just wanted to be left alone to sleep and was mad because they were making such a racket and they had used all of the bottled water I brought and I was thirsty. This house was really tiny, just one bedroom really and there were about thirty people in the house and surrounding yard. I really wanted a drink of water and as I poured the very last of the bottle into my glass, some random girl topped the glass of with what appeared to be Scotch. I was angry but so thirsty that I drank it anyway (Don't ask why I didn't just drink tap water, it was a dream and sometimes things just don't make sense.) I started to feel sick and there was so much loud noise and commotion that I just wanted to go in the bathroom and throw up and go back to bed but the bathroom was occupied and my bedroom had been taken over. I was feeling terrible, really dizzy and nauseous and I wanted away from all the loud, scary people so I walked to the nearest farmhouse, which was where "Hank" lived.

Now I have to say that "Hank", for all his open hostility towards me and "Lizzy", was really good looking. I mean really, really good looking. Think tanned from working outdoors, muscled from all that farm work, think no shirt because it's hot outside, all the typical farm boy stereotypes. We had only met a few times in town at the store or diner and as I said, he wasn't very friendly. He seemed to resent the 'city girls' who were invading his precious territory. Now trust me when I say that neither "Lizzy" nor I are exactly Paris Hilton and while I will admit that I know nothing about milking cows or tilling fields, I'm not completely clueless. I was pretty resentful of "Hank's" know-it-all superiority yet got the feeling that there was something else there. I suspected that "Hank" was more than he seemed and even thought he might be interested in me (here is where we know it's a dream, people. Even in the remote unlikelihood that some guy is interested in me, I NEVER have a clue when that's the case. I'm oblivious until someone points it out to me later, which really makes me mad because by then it's too late to do anything about it.)

Okay, so I stumble through the cornfields (yes, I know that's a bad idea, I saw "Children of the Corn") to "Hank's" house where he is awake (who wouldn't be with the biker gang party going on in the cornfield next door, I think at this point a death metal band had shown up and was playing). "Hank" was actually nice to me (which was good because I was really sick at this point) and concerned when I explained that I had gotten ill really quickly after drinking the Scotch/water. He made me throw up (always attractive, don't cha think?) and then put me to bed (no, don't go there yet) in a small bedroom on the first floor. I went to sleep right away and only woke up when my cell phone rang. It was "Lizzy", calling to say that she had driven with someone to buy some more alcohol and her car had caught fire and could I please come get her. I was still woozy at this point and was trying to figure out exactly where she was when some man came on the line and told me 'never mind' and hung up. I fell back into a deep sleep and woke up the next morning with sunlight streaming in the window.

When I woke up, "Hank" was nowhere to be found. I looked around the first floor and then went upstairs to check out the second floor. The bedrooms there faced towards the other farmhouses in the area. It was a good view actually and I was surprised that none of the bedrooms seemed to be in use, except for one room that was locked. A peek through the keyhole (hey, old farmhouse, of course there was a giant keyhole) revealed what appeared to be surveillance equipment. Why would a farmer need expensive surveillance equipment and why would he sleep in a tiny room on the first floor when there were several large bedrooms upstairs? I went back downstairs. "Hank" returned just a few minutes later with fresh made doughnuts and hot coffee from the diner in town. (in my dreams apparently I'm not allergic to caffeine). I confronted "Hank" with what I had discovered. He was angry with me for snooping and asked me why I was still there if I thought he was doing something wrong. I told him that even though there was some suspicious stuff going on that I didn't quite understand yet, deep down I felt like I could trust him and that I knew he wouldn't hurt me. He was a bit incredulous at my trust in him when he had been so hostile to me before and I told him it was because when he was being mean to me he always shifted his eyes to the left (a known lying signal) and when he was nice to me he looked me right in the eyes. He was shocked and then (okay guys, sorry, here is when the romance writer in me takes over the dream for a minute) grabs me in his arms and lays down a magnificent kiss. Which I return just as passionately (hey, I ain't dumb, if I can get some, I'll take it). This wild make out session leads to us heading to the little bedroom where I tell him he has to tell me his real name before we make love. (okay, I'm blushing just a bit as I write this, so forgive me, alright?) Again, he's shocked. Why don't I think "Hank" is his real name? Because, I tell him, he is obviously undercover - my guess is DEA or FBI or even possibly ATF - and that he wouldn't use his real name during the investigation. And I refuse to have sex with someone if I don't know their real name. (Apparently I have standards, even in dream land. Not high standards since I don't ask his LAST name, but standards none the less.) He tells me his name is Marcus and we...well, cut to a picture of a fireplace like in the 1960's movies. I can't write the details in my blog, after all this was a, er, um, personal experience, even if it was just a dream.

Okay, after, well, you know, we have breakfast (although it's now afternoon) where I show off my cooking skills by making a huge country style meal. I learn that he is DEA and he has been investigating a huge crystal meth operation in the area. The house "Lizzy" bought was one that had been used to cook meth and some of the 'gang' at the party were part of it too. This made me uneasy and I relayed the weird phone call I had gotten during the night. Marcus said he would check it out and I insisted on going with him (plus I needed fresh clothes although he loaned me a clean t-shirt.) We went to the house, which was trashed, including my car which had the tires slashed and windows broken. I quickly changed clothes and grabbed some stuff to take with me to Marcus' house. There was no sign of "Lizzy" and no answer on her cell when I tried. We asked around town but no one seems to have seen her. We even check out the disreputable bar where she had supposedly gone to buy more booze the night before. Our reception there is chilly and we don't stay long. We do snoop around there a bit and find "Lizzy's" car, hidden under a tarp in a junk heap out back. It had been burned.

Now it's getting dark and we head back to Marcus' farmhouse, where he lets his superiors know that something is going down and "Lizzy" is missing. They tell him they will send support tomorrow and use the information he has already gathered to make arrests. As night begins we hear noises at "Lizzy's" house. We go to the second floor to get a better look and see that there is a lot of activity. Marcus calls for backup as some of the 'gang' heads towards us. Marcus asks me if I know how to use a gun. I tell him that I may be a city girl but my dad taught me to shoot practically before I could walk (this is true, my father was a gun collector and enthusiast. We spent most weekends of my teenage years in the mountains around Las Vegas at black powder shoots where men dress like Grizzly Adams and shoot Civil War and Old West era guns. Yeah, that was fun for a teenage girl, I mean, who wants to hang out at the mall with her friends when she can watch men shoot guns in an area where there are no toilets.) He hands me a gun and an extra clip of ammunition and settles me in a crouch in the corner of the little bedroom and tells me to shoot anyone who comes in who isn't him. He heads to the front of the house and I can hear all kinds of chaos and gunfire. A huge man enters and I shoot him square in the chest. (it wasn't bloody, more like cartoonish) Another man enters and I try to shoot but the gun jams. He is laughing at me and about to shoot me when I cock the gun again and shoot him. I realize the action in the gun is what's jamming so I have to cock it twice to fire (I don't know that this would happen in real life, I'd have to ask my brother who is my resident expert in all things gun related).

Okay, this is where I woke up. Sorry if it was just getting exciting. I can't control everything. My mom says I need to write and ending so we know where "Lizzy" is and how we escape. I might just do that. But back to my original question...do you dream like that? Or am I a psychopath? Not only to I dream like this pretty much every night but I can remember the majority of them as well. I can still recall dreams I had ten or twenty years ago. I admit to a pretty vivid imagination (I could tell you some of the stories my Barbie dolls had to endure, they were soap opera like in their scope and story line.) So I just wondered if anyone else out there has dreams like mine. When you dream, what do you dream about?

Have a nice weekend...and Sweet Dreams!

I Didn't Make The List

So, once again, I didn't make the Forbes 400 list of the richest people in America.

Okay, the price of admission to the list was $1.3 billion dollars and I have like twenty-two dollars and eighty-six cents.

All the usual suspects made the list - Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, everyone in the world related to Sam Walton. Most of the list is old white guys. (Surprise, surprise.) Ten percent of the list is women. Oprah is on it. (Again, surprise, surprise.)

The guy who founded Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg, is on the list, he's worth $1.5 billion. Oh, and he's twenty four. Yeah. Twenty-four. When I was twenty-four the sum total of my assets was a crappy Ford Tempo and whatever change I could find on the floor and in the seats of the said Ford Tempo. This guy can buy a small country and I had trouble finding enough cash to buy two tacos at Jack In The Box.

Sheldon Adelson lost almost half of his fortune this year and that would make me sad if he didn't still have a net worth of $15 billion dollars. So forgive me, Shelly, if I don't cry too much for you.

I guess what upsets me the most about this list (besides not being on it) is that it represents a kind of wealth that we normal people can't understand. Or at least I can't, maybe you're different. I wouldn't know what it's like to not think about the cost of things. I buy marked down produce and shop the clearance racks at Ross. My mom works at a day-old bread store. That's the reality of my life and it's okay, I'm used to it. But these guys have more money than most people could ever even dream about. I can't fathom money in the billions. A million is still a whole lot of dough to me, and these people have thousands of millions.

Sure, I can imagine of what it might be like to be one of the mega-rich. But I'd still be looking at the prices on the menu and thinking that two tacos are only ninety-nine cents and that 'poulet a la valee d'auge' is really just roast chicken anyway and how can they charge so much for it? Why would I spend six figures on an Hermes Birkin Bag when that's more money than I spent on college? The twenty dollar purse from Target holds my wallet and cell phone just fine. And private jets are not exactly eco-friendly.

Who wouldn't want to be rich? Nobody I know. It would be lovely to give generously to charity and eat and shop wherever you want. To go on vacations that don't require coupons and online discount hotels. But my life is grounded in reality and I'll never be a part of that world. Foe me, I'd settle for not worrying about where car repair money is going to come from. Think that Facebook guy would give it to me?