:: and this i know ::

I am a TV junkie. I have no problem admitting this fact. I find that it is greatest way for me to unwind after dealing with traffic: just sit back and watch fictional characters deal with their problems. I look forward to certain shows, and do get upset when dealing with scheduled hiatuses for holiday programming. I also have no problem watching the older shows over and over in repeats, nor with repeated viewing of newer shows (thanks On Demand!).

It is because of this honesty of being a TV junkie that some people make assumptions on what they feel I should be watching. I do not watch based on what is deemed as must see, I watch for reasons as varied as the genre, recommendations from some friends or even because of certain actors / characters being on the show. In fact, I watched Law & Order: Special Victims Unit due to Richard Belzer’s character John Munch being carried over from Homicide: Life on the Street (one of my favorite shows).

Still, some people have problems believing that I did/do not watch the following:

Game of Thrones
The Walking Dead
CSI
99.8% of reality programming
Vampire Diaries
True Blood

Of the above, I am most offended by the reality programming surprise. When I counter that while I do not watch the Basketball Housewives wrangle their multiple children as part of a cooking competition but do watch a show titled Ex-Wives of Rock featuring exes of “hair band” musicians, I have to admit to being amused by the look of disgust on faces. I guess it is ok to watch competitions than watch people I used to see in magazines I read while in high school?

All I can say is that while the above does not interest me at this time, there is no telling if I will go back and attempt to watch at a later date. After all, I only saw Buffy the Vampire Slayer a few years back – and I loved that show. Who knows, maybe one day I will try to watch The Sopranos again (I only got half-way through). Then again, if there is a Friday Night Lights marathon on, I’m going to have to cheer on the Dillon Panthers.

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From my adolescent years through well . . . we’ll just say through 7 years ago, I had quite a collection of seal and dolphin figurines (and one candle). It was a magnificent collection, various types, random sizes, all very adorable and to be envied by anyone who collected either seals or dolphins. The larger pieces were kept in a cabinet in my small “whatever” room which could have been a small sitting room, but quickly became my depository for various items I could not find space for in my bedroom, while the smaller pieces were held in boxes in the same room. Why would I store such a collection behind doors and lids instead of showing them off? Simple. I did not care to collect these things.

In my single digit years I made the mistake once of mentioning to an Aunt that I thought a seal figure was cute. From that point on, she latched onto this statement and began my collection. I can understand wanting to purchase that one seal as a sign that she was paying attention, but she took it to a whole other level.

True, I could have been obnoxious, and told her hey, I only liked that one seal, but I did not for one reason: the joy that she seemed to have when presenting me with a new item. I loved my Aunt Carol, and thus began the secret shame of being excited in front of her, and then hiding the gifts.

When she started to feel ill after having her second child the sea creatures stopped coming as often. The ultimate diagnosis of MS meant that they basically stopped coming completely as she found herself unable to get around as she used to be able.

The last gift she did manage to get me was actually not a seal, nor a dolphin. It was a light from one of the Main Street Electrical Parade floats from Disneyland. I used to go once a year with my Uncle and Aunt, and later with my cousins. Eventually my Aunt would stay home, while the four of us ran around the park. The last time my Uncle decided that he would stay with my Aunt and just gave me his ticket for one of my friends to use.

Actually, I vaguely remember telling my Aunt my version of the tale of the Haunted House while she rode in a doom buggy with me during a trip pre-kids/cousins. I cannot help but think of her when I ride it to this day, how she was so great that she let me tell my obviously false story, and listened as though everything I said was the truth.

My Aunt ultimately ended up passing away from MS in 2003. I was out of town for the job I had at the time, and had no idea what had happened until I returned. I now understand why no one wanted to tell me, as I would not have been able to work while I was away. I still remember rushing to her evening services after work, but just not being able to mentally go to her actual burial. I hope she is able to understand.

For the record? I would give anything to have any of those seal or dolphin items (even the earrings) back. Damn fire.

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There are certain things I would love to use this blog to express, but cannot for one reason or another. Some reasons are due to the fact that I will hurt people’s feelings. Some are due to not wanting to start a fight worthy of those in high school. Others? Just because I do not want to deal with the headaches that might be caused if this blog is found.

In (random) summary:

1. You are wrong.  You have no one to blame but yourself for this mess you find yourself in.
2. I wish you would just listen to the reasons that are given, just seriously sit and listen.  If you did, you would understand why I have this opinion that you feel is wrong.
3. I still have not forgotten the idiotic reasonings behind your actions.  How can the photos I have not be considered proof of ownership when coupled with official reports?
4. I have noticed that I have not heard from you since I declared neutrality.  I should apologize for being the adult here, but I doubt that would help.
5. I will avoid it as much as possible, especially since you are going about it by doing one of the things I hate the most in life.
6. No, I do not ask unless I have to.  No, I do not want to hear about it unless I have to.  Yes, I do change the subject when it comes up because I do not want to say something that will be regretted.

I must say: just typing this did feel better.

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This is not my first experience blogging. I had a Live Journal account that I used for a few years, something that I did enjoy very much. Technically I should write that I have a Live Journal account as it still exists however its basic function these days is as an archive.

Thinking about it now, I could have easily just participated in the challenge using that Live Journal account, as I would not have had to struggle with any errors in the site set-up, nor would I have to worry about its discovery. I do admit that one of the things that I loved about my LJ was that it was only read by those that I allowed thanks to having friend only posts. A major reason I have not shared the link for this blog is because I did not want to be hindered by some people possibly getting offended by things that I have written – a sentiment I share with Melissa. I never had that problem with LJ as I was able to make public only those entries that I felt fine with sharing with the masses. Yet for some reason I decided to finally make use of one of my URLs to set up this blog.

Actually, one thing I have been thinking about is where I am left after this month. As mentioned a few days ago, I do enjoy the release that these entries allow. It does not feel as though it is a loathed job, being done only because I am responsible for it, but rather it feels good to have a place to ramble that is not a message to a friend, or limited to 140 characters. I hope that I will continue to write, not necessarily on a daily basis, but to write in general. I have also considered moving some of my old LJ entries here to this site, backdated (of course) to the date that I originally wrote. I am also considering asking if I can repost a few pieces I wrote for Life on the Scene with a link to each post made back to the original site.

Who knows though. With my luck this will go ignored due to the headaches and “have-tos” associated with the holidays. This is not the goal, but the reality of how the holidays tend to go in my life – they take over what I want to do with what others feel I need to do.

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In this instance the letter would be “S,” not “A.”

I have no problem admitting to the fact that I had a few backdated posts due to starting the NaBloPoMo challenge a few days late. However, I am struggling with the fact that I have indeed used the schedule function for some posts.

Whether I like it or not, the best time for me to post is in the evening, even on the weekends. I am unsure if it is because this has become a method for me to unwind after the work day, or after a day spent running around trying to mark errands off my “to-do” list, but the evening works best. I find that by the time I do get around to sitting down to write I have settled down enough to be able to concentrate without worrying about the bills I need to pay that evening – mainly because I make various calls, write the emails, etc. before sitting down at the keyboard.

Unfortunately this means that there have been a few cases where I have scheduled entries to post while I knew that I would be away from the computer. While there are some cases where I could technically make the midnight deadline, I worry that it would be rushed, a half-assed entry done just to technically say that I have participated so that I could finish something else that is at the back of my brain.

Is it wrong to schedule something in advance? I am sure that others with real blogs that have audiences and tackle important subjects use the feature. I am also sure that others would attempt to note when they are using the feature, much like I have noted when I made a backdated entry. Would I feel less guilt if I did this, if I marked each as being a scheduled entry?

More importantly, why do I feel the guilt? I am actually writing these entries myself, not relying on others to help. I am just possibly writing two on one day so that I can see my cousin’s kids play football without having to worry about rushing home to make a post. Yet I still feel the guilt, as if I am defeating the purpose of deciding to participate in NaBloPoMo because I am not writing on one of the days. There must be something wrong with me to feel bad about this, correct?

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It was about 5 minutes ago that I realized that I needed to make my daily post. This was followed by a quick glance at the calendar which informed me that I am basically at the halfway point of NaBloPoMo. Before the glance I was wondering what I would write about, but now? Now I think I know.

As mentioned before, I turned to NaBloPoMo as I did want to return to writing, but knew that I did not have a novel in me to participate in NaNoWriMo. While I have had some thoughts about ideas for a story, there has not been the excitement that I experience when attempting to think of topics for the daily blog. This is where I feel NaBloPoMo is a success for me: I really am enjoying setting aside the time to make these posts. In a way, it feels as though it is a guaranteed block of time for myself. Normally when I do set aside time it is spent watching the TV (either shows or movies) or reading the words of other people. Now? Now it is setting aside time to feel as though I am accomplishing something – true, it is not a cure for a disease, but it does feel good when I hit the publish button.

I also am enjoying the fact that I feel the wheels in my head turning, trying to find various things to write about that may seem interesting to anyone who stumbles across these entries. While at the soccer game today I found myself trying to observe even more than usual, attempting to see if there was anything that might inspire a post. Any conversations with friends now have me paying extra attention to lines being said in a way that I have not noticed since the unfortunately brief period where I carried a notebook to write random quotes I heard while out.

True, there are days that I struggle, attempt to find something to write about, but overall? Overall I am finding that I am usually able to blather on about when I log into the admin page of the site. The first sign of the struggle was when I was attempting a bit of catch up the first week, which lead me to use that first Friday that I participated (the 8th) as my first “5” post, 5 partially in honor of Rob Fleming and his own Top 5 lists. Well, it was this struggle to catch up along with attending a high school football game that made me decide that this was a way to get an entry for the day. When writing my backdated posts I did attempt to write something that related to that date in particular, either something realized or something that had happened. I unfortunately could not come up with anything when attempting to find something for the 1st, I had nothing other than the first football game I went to, which lead to another 5 list. Since then, I made the decision to turn Fridays into my own personal 5 post day, something continued yesterday and hopefully for the next 2 weeks. I have an idea for one of the weeks, but am lost as to the other.

There are still only a very select few that know I am doing this, which is the way I am keeping things for now. One person who has suggested 2 posts that I may actually write about knows I am doing this, but has no idea of the site’s link. If she asked I would provide it, but I am not ready to do so yet. Actually, if most were to ask directly, I would not have a problem sharing, yet for some reason I just am not ready to put it out there for all to read the random crap in my head. Unfortunately, I am just not that brave yet.

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Things that have happened to me:

1. I have been sat on while sitting in a chair at the movie theater. Twice. Both times while the lights were still up in the theater as the movie had yet to start.

2. When I was still a child I had two large plastic cups of beer spilled on my head while at a Renaissance Faire. This is largely the reason why I am not that interested in attending a Faire as an adult.

3. My appendix burst after riding Star Tours at Disneyland. At least it was a respectable ride. Can you imagine if it had happened after the Jungle Cruise?

4. I have had the power go out right before having a dental procedure.

5. I have had the unfortunate experience of walking through a stranger’s fart. Twice. Both times at off-price retailers (e.g., Ross – though this did not happen at a Ross). Each time I left immediately, loudly complaining as to the reason why I found it necessary to leave. What can I say except that I did not want to be blamed for the scent.

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“Tell me in 1 sentence the Corey Feldman obsession…”

This is a question I have been asked quite a few times in my life, more so lately due to finally meeting Corey Feldman a week ago this evening at a book signing for Coreyography: A Memoir. This time it was asked by my friend Rita* in one of my treasured chats with her on messenger. In the case of Rita, I know she is curious, is being serious. Other times I have been asked that question it has been with a slight smile, an attempt at understanding what the person asking assumes is an ironic fandom.

I am unsure why this is, as I am pretty honest about anything that I am a fan of: whether it be the “Roller Disco” episode of CHiPs, the cinematic classic Teen Witch or books on the pornography business,* I will come clean and say “yes, I like this (fill in the blank).” For this reason I am unsure why others think that I am joking when I say that I am excited about Corey.

I am also unsure why others refuse to remember the work he has contributed. Stand By Me is forever remembered as the film I saw for my birthday with friends during our last year of junior high. The Goonies was better than the adult film it was based on (yeah, I did not care for Indiana Jones). Gremlins was a classic (the sequel not so much). The Lost Boys is probably the most current of the vampire films that I enjoy.

Before you mention that these are old works, I LOVE Rock & Roll High School Forever (which I mentioned when I met him), Dweebs was a funny show. He made a great appearance on USA’s Psych (another show I will not miss), Dream a Little Dream was great, as was the film version of Tales from the Crypt. I admit, I have not seen a lot of his current work, mostly due to distribution issues.

Unfortunately, when I bring up these facts people still think I am joking, which to be honest is likely due to the slightly (cough, cough) snarky personality. It is times like that I wish I were able to have a sign that states I am not being sarcastic, however I am sure that some would see my holding the sign as a way of being sarcastic.

For the record: I am a fan of Corey Feldman. An honest fan who had been mentioning to a few friends for quite a few years now that I wish he would write an autobiography, and that if he did I would be in line for the signing. On Thursday, November 7th I found myself asking to get out of work a bit early so that I could leave work early (any guess as to what the boss asked me?) so that I could head over to wait for Corey’s signing.

Was it yet another thing to add to the Araby list? In a way, yes. It was not a matter of being disappointed by Corey – no, he was amazing with his fans. He thanked everyone who asked a question during the audience Q&A and the took time to speak to each and every person who had something signed. Not just a “thank you for buying my book,” but he would ask questions, or if he was asked a question, he would honestly take the time to answer, and provide a bit more information if he could – and then would thank the person for being there. The only downside to the signing was at the beginning.

It was not due to the late start to the evening, but rather to my observing him during the press op at the start where various photographers were there shooting Corey with his book, Coreyography. I have been to quite a few signings in my life, but never have I seen anyone cooperate for the cameras like Corey: he posed in multiple positions, smiled, took off the sunglasses, held the book, put the book beside him, turned to face each and every person taking the photos. Why was this a downside?

This may be due to my reading Coreyography, but I could not help but be sad. Not due to his getting press for his book, but because I could see it. I could see how he was trained from a young age to be accommodating, to smile, to be “on” for the cameras, to make sure that people are given what they want. It is not a spoiler to state that one of the things revealed in the autobiography is that he was unfortunately molested. Seeing him for that brief moment made me realize how he could easily be seen as prey for pedophiles.

What is amazing though is that now he is speaking out, something that is never easy, and facing questions asking about the timing, which should not be a concern as it is a difficult decision he made to speak out publicly. What is amazing is that he is trying, sincerely trying, to be creative, to find an outlet for his feelings. What is amazing is the way his voice softens when he was asked about his son, who he said was not there because his only job is to be “Dad” to him, not to be an actor. Here is someone who is aware of his reputation, of his public perception, and still finds the strength to persevere. How many people can say that?

Oh, before I forget, my answer to Rita’s question:

“I like Feldman’s movies and feel that if not for his eccentricities he would be in indie films a la Crispin.”

_____________
*Rita is not her real name, but “a cool fucking name” that I like to use when either speaking to or about her to others.

*NOTE: I love to read about the business side of the porn industry: whether it be books by the actors or histories of the industry, I find it all very fascinating.

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I mentioned in a previous post that I had pulled a tendon when unpacking after a move. There is much more involved in the story.

After being surrounded by many boxes for a few weeks I finally decided to use my time off from work to unpack everything. Does this mean that I did it over a regular weekend? Of course not! I decided that I would put it off for the extended weekend – the Fourth of July to be exact. There are certain things I remember about that day. The most important being two rules that I will follow for the rest of my life:

1. Always have a phone within reach when doing anything remotely strenuous.
2. NEVER do anything strenuous when by yourself on the 4th of July.

You see, by the time I talked myself into tackling the boxes that I had been maneuvering around it was dark. While some areas are not zoned for fireworks, we were in a “safe & sane” city, which roughly translates to illegal fireworks allowed. By the time I started I had to put my TV on louder than normal due to the excessive noise outside. Everything was fine, boxes were being unpacked and discarded. Then came the one reach.

Instead of getting up to reach for a box I overestimated my flexibility. I knew immediately that something was wrong. Was it the fact that I had difficulty moving my leg? Was it my suddenly dropping the box I was attempting to grab? No. It was the seating pain that made me scream and start crying immediately.

I recently scared my cousin’s son by screaming at a football game. He had been complaining, saying that people were yelling too loud for him, which made me laugh. I asked him if he wanted to hear me. When he said sure, I screamed. His hands flew to his ears and the people a row in front of us (a row separated by a slight walkway for the sections) turned around. This was without my screaming in that manner in years.

On the 4th I was well “trained,” and had been going to shows on a regular basis. That night NO ONE could hear me as I screamed for help. There were people in the house with me, but it was so loud that they could not hear me. I would attempt to yell for help any chance I got, however when one loud firework would end at one house, another would begin.

I attempted to reach for my phone that was in its base. Unfortunately I was only successful in making myself cry even more because I could not move out of the position I was in on the floor.

After an hour of screaming I gave up as it was no use. I was in the middle of attempting to work through the pain of my position when I finally heard someone close to the room I was in and began to scream again, hoping I would be loud enough to be heard. No luck.

I was in that room, attempting to inch toward to phone for over 3 hours. I would yell when I could, but had no luck. It was not until someone decided to see why they had not heard from me (!) that it was discovered that I was injured. It took 2 people to pull me into a standing position, however I needed to be put on the bed as I could not stand alone.

The weekend was spent trying to recover on my own with no luck. It was not until the trip to the doctor the following Monday (thanks extended holiday weekends) that it was discovered that I had not pulled a muscle, but a tendon.

That was over a decade ago. Every few years it acts up again, not to the point of not being able to move, but I basically limp around when I walk. There are moments I am in severe pain, and within a second I am fine as if nothing were wrong. Unfortunately, as it happens so infrequently I can never remember how long it takes to “recover,” nor what worked the previous time to help.

The thing that bothers me the most? The fact that although it is suggested I rest, how can I? I need to walk, not want, but need. I wonder if this will happen more frequently the older I get. As of now, it only seems to happen when I am severe weather changes from hot to cold.

Until then if you see me limping around town, you know why.

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I have lived in this space for over 4 years now, yet I have still not completely made myself at home. I could blame this to the fact that I have things in storage, or that I am looking for the perfect statement piece. Both of these reasons would be lies.

I have not made myself completely at home because the times I have done that I have been forced to move – not due to wanting to move, but forced as in finding out that the landlords were going to have to demolish the room I was living in (not the entire house, just my room). Yes, that truly did happen to me one year.

Each time I have attempted to make myself feel completely at home, put the effort into making a space for myself that is not just thrown together in a temporary manner, something has happened requiring me to move. True, there were a few occasions where I did not settle in due to knowing that the residences were in fact temporary, but the times where I was to be a long-term resident lead to being forced to pack up whatever I could find after making myself at home.

While my current residence has furniture, of course (matching, even!), I still have very few things on the walls (only one photo is up in my bedroom – one of John Taylor & Simon LeBon). The rug is one that was just picked up quickly without much thought – which works out when I spill my tea. There are no throw pillows, no extra touches that make it feel like a home other than a few photos in frames on a table. I know, I know. I may be insane in thinking that there is a correlation between these two things – getting settled and being forced to move – but if it happens each time you cannot help but wonder.

I have attempted to change this. I have a few prints that I do want to hang up that need frames, as well as some that are already framed. However I always come up with an excuse for why I cannot put them up on the walls – everything from the not finding the right frame to not having sturdy enough nails. I have also made the excuse of pillows not matching the rug I really never liked when it was purchased.

I find myself blocking the urge to completely be at home out of fear of being forced to move again. Is it because I do not want to move forward in life? No. It is because I really hate packing. I’m too damn anal when it comes to labeling everything. I am still upset that I do not have the boxes of books in storage properly labeled or noted. Worse is the unpacking of items. I still suffer from the tendon I pulled in my leg years ago after the room demolish move when attempting to unpack bags.

If it could be guaranteed that I would not have to put up with the packing and unpacking, as well as the organization of everything in the new location I would be fine. However if it is up to me? Forget it. I can live with just seeing John & Simon on a daily basis on my wall.

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