A Christmas Letter

Merry Christmas! Or Happy Belated Hannukah, Happy Belated Yule, Happy Other Possible Holidays I'm Forgetting About or Happy Tuesday!
Wow! Quite the year! So much has happened in these last twelve months I'm not sure where to begin. Mom and I moved out of our previous house and are renters now. We rescued one of the cats that dad used to feed at the old one, so now we have five. Five cats are truly a lot of cats, but we all seem to be managing. Bonk (the fifth cat, aptly named because she shows affection by smacking her head against you or any solid object near her) is very appreciative to be indoors and is enjoying her life with us. Lucky and Tiger are slowly warming to her and even Skippy doesn't mind sleeping near her as long as both of them are asleep-- which she will check on from time to time. Lucy's the only one who won't accept her, but Lucy's a bitch who barely tolerates the other girl cats, anyway.
I've been working tons. On New Year's Day, I was waitressing to tables that were constantly full. Hottie said that you can judge how the rest of your year will be by how the first day goes. I said, "I hope not! I worked my ass off!" Well that pretty much seemed to be how the rest of my year went. I passed two exams and got all the necessary licensing for my field, became full time, left waitressing (which Psychic Pam in Solvang told me I was terrible at, even though I never waited on her), worked at two different locations in order to be full-time and then finally began working full-time in one location and get to work closer to home. So yeah, I'm kind of tired sometimes.
Mom is doing well. It's been a tough year for her, naturally. She and my dad were close to celebrating their 40th anniversary before he passed. So going through that and making the choices she made this year has been difficult for her, but my mom is a strong woman and she's pulling through.
I'm sure you're wondering how I've taken the tough news of my imaginary boyfriend, Jason Segel, dating Michelle Williams. I'm getting by, thanks. I don't really have anything against her, so I'm happy for them. Truth be told, I haven't really taken part in the dating scene for a while. I tried it once this summer but was unsuccessful. Honestly this probably wasn't the year for me to date anyway, what with dealing with the loss of my dad and work and everything. It was hard to be happy a lot of times. The sudden death of my dad changed me a lot. It felt like nothing I said was right. Good things happened for a lot of my friends, and while I was happy for them, it was really hard to get there. I felt all sorts of guilt about the way I'd think about something or a choice I made. There is no right way to grieve, but you will grieve. I have friends who are going through the loss of a parent or will, and I'll tell you that it doesn't really get better. It gets easier, but sometimes emotions will hit you due to the weirdest things.
My dad passed from cancer. I personally cannot get into all of the "support cancer" stuff. He coincidentally died during men's cancer awareness month, which I guess is symbolized by mustaches. Since then, a mustache craze has formed. There is mustache merchandise to be had by all. My dad had a full-sized mustache. So immediately after his passing, tons of people were sporting fake ones on their faces or their shirts or coffee mugs. That was weird. I'm all for cancer research, but don't ask me to participate in walks or post things as my status for an hour. I'm not your girl.
Speaking of facebook, it's really gotten sucky, right? I personally can no longer load pictures onto it without a great deal of struggle. You may never know what I look like again, unless you see me in real life (gasp!) or I post them on here. And it was an election year. Yuck! Facebook got really nasty this year. Quite frankly, I'm ashamed of all of us and most of us are crazy. All I kept thinking was "Willie Wonka would never say that!" I tried really hard not to take part, but every now and then I did like something that I was concerned would raise some ire. If there's still a facebook four years from now, I may have to delete mine. I miss the days when facebook was all about stating the mundane thing you were doing without tagging and GPS and the only crazy thing you did was cast the top five friends on your list into an imaginary scenario. Good times.
It was tough to be positive with so much negativity going around this year. And we're primed for more negativity this year. So I want to pass along this observation. In his final years, my dad probably drank more than he should and probably smoked more than he should. He followed politics closely and romanticized the things he no longer had quite a bit. My mom and I were there for him as best as we could, but his thoughts made him feel alone. Sure, genetics and his actions were probably good motivators, but I feel his despair is what really gave him cancer. And no, I'm obviously not a doctor. I'm just a storyteller who hasn't written in a long time. But please do not despair. Times are really tough sometimes. For some, times are really tough all the time. But don't despair. Try to find the good that is in the present. Stop spreading the negative crap, because it's catching and some are more susceptible than others.
Finally, don't lose contact with the ones you love. I love all of you, in a perfectly healthy, non-stalkerish way.

So...

Guess who accidentally downloaded Google Chrome today?

My Last Post

This is my last post on this blog. As much as I've enjoyed holding onto it, I can't access it on my own computer anymore. I'm barely able to access it on my mom's computer, and the threatening "download or else" message by Google Chrome means that I have to move on. For my last post, I'd like to write about the thing that has affected me most. On October 8th, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. On November 2nd, he passed away at home with mom and me there. It all happened so fast and so hard that grieving has been sporadic. It was and still is a difficult time. I know this has changed me. I feel I am more cynical now. It certainly didn't help that two cancer awareness months happened back-to-back while the worst of it was going on. While I recognize the importance of cancer research and treatment, equal importance must be placed in early detection, which my dad didn't have. Everyone, please remember: if something doesn't feel right, go to the freaking doctor. Putting that off doesn't mean you don't have something until it is diagnosed. Since my dad's passing, I haven't had one dream about him, until last night. In the dream, I was riding in a car. My fried was taking me home. The dream took place in Hesperia, and we were driving down E Street, if anyone cares to know. It was clear by the houses along the street that we were in a fairly well-off neighborhood. That was my main clue that it was a dream, because if you've ever been in that part of Hesperia, you know there are no such houses. Except that crazy out-of-place mansion that used to have the vulture statues on the roof. Anyway, not the point. My friend dropped me off at this Tudor-style house that was clearly too big for just me. I went inside and entered a room with a large fireplace. As I got closer to it, I saw little pictures of people all over the mantle. They turned out to be pictures of those who are or will be important in my life. I wanted to look at all of the pictures, but something caught my attention. I turned to look behind me and therer off to the side was my dad. He was sitting in his recliner smiling at me. I started crying and went over to him. He rose and hugged me for a long time. I could feel myself starting to wake up; my body moving from this room and out of his arms and into my bed. But I fought it and managed to stay long enough for him to whisper in my ear. "Keep going."

How I Spent my Summer Vacation, Part 6 (continued)

     The door above totally reminds me out of something from the movie "Labyrinth". I feel all the little heads should argue with each other with Italian accents. I don't even know where the door was made, but the men's heads on it would be Italian. Call it a gut feeling.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation, Part 6

     Let me first say a little something about the blogger system. Blogger is currently no longer allowing me to log into the site any other way than through Picasa. The only other way I can access and post on this blog would be to download Google Chrome. I do not like having my hand forced, but that's totally what's going on. So, unfortunately, there is a very strong possibility that this will be my last post on here (unless Picasa doesn't allow me to load all of my pictures onto this entry, then the one after this will be my last post). So let's continue to the final part of my summer vacation, now that we're into fall.

     Hottie and I next drove to San Simeon to visit Hearst Castle. It was very beautiful. Regrettably, it was also where my camera died. But I hope you enjoy the pictures I was able to take.

     As with many historical sites nowadays, no pictures were allowed to be taken inside the buildings, but you could take as many as you liked outside. We took a tour of the Big House (Casa Grande) and it was awesome!

     William Randolph Hearst sounded like a very complex and benevolent guy. While I'm aware that the tour might be a little biased, I have a feeling that he wasn't entirely like the version of him portrayed in "Newsies". Side note: Disney's finally making a Broadway musical version of "Newsies"!

     All of the art pieces and artifacts are supposed to be authentic, according to our tour guide. The actual places where the artifacts are originally from are supposed to have the replicas.

     After San Simeon, we drove to Solvang, which was adorable. I wish my camera had lasted long enough to take some pictures of it. We ate schnitzel and later got our palms read. Psychic Pam was great and very positive. If you ever visit Solvang and have the inclination, I totally recommend her.

     I'm sure there's more I'm leaving out, but it really was a great vacation.

September 11, 2001

I woke up somewhere before 6:00 am in Hollywood, CA. A couple months previous, I'd moved to a bachelor apartment right near the Hollywood Blvd entrance/exit for the 101 freeway. My then-boyfriend called me and told me to turn on the tv-- it didn't really matter what channel. He told me what had happened as I grabbed my remote with my other hand.

I'll be perfectly honest: I had never heard of the World Trade Center before that morning. If I had, it simply didn't register that it was something that I should know about or be aware of.

Our phone conversation was brief. My boyfriend told me about the pentagon being hit. I can't remember if, by then, one of the towers had already collapsed or both. What I do remember is calling my parents immediately to talk with them. I know by the time I was on the phone with them, both towers had collapsed. I think they also told me about the plane that had crashed in a Pennsylvania field, but I'm not certain.

I was definitely thinking more emotionally than analytically on that day.

I watched the news for a long time. It wasn't so much a typical news day as it was a live documentary unfolding before me. I sat on my sofa bed, alone in my dark apartment, watching horrible things happen. I was roughly 3,000 miles away and felt completely helpless.

One thing the newscasters were able to broadcast was the government's current oppinion that those not directly afftected by the day's events should resume their daily lives. They urged everyone to go to work, school, or whatever else was planned for the day. The rationale of this was to prove to the terrorists (because by then it was obvious that this was a calculated attack) hadn't phased us.

I had two jobs at that time. I was a professional extra (non-union) on tv and film productions, and I was a waitress who worked the graveyard shift at a 24-hour restaurant. The newscasters were reporting, along with the rest of the events and the government's oppinions, that Hollywood was shutting down for the day. There was a big possibility that I wouldn't have to work that day.

Most extras go through a casting agency. They will call their agency and try to book their own jobs. Depending on the agency, your chances of working on a regular basis can be slim. As a full-time extra, however, I had a call-in service. They would book me on jobs, and I pretty much worked everyday unless it was Sunday or I asked for it off. As a regular extra, I was used a lot as a student (from junior high to college) or a random crowd member. My service would leave me a message on my answering machine the night before to tell me what I would work that day.

That day, I was scheduled to be a stand-in on a PBS show called "Madison Heights". I don't think it was a show on our PBS station, but I really have no idea. A stand-in, for those who don't know is someone who takes the place of the actor while the crew sets up the lighting and cameras. It can sometimes be a long process (definitely a boring one) and no one wants the actor to fall out of character.

I called my service to ask if I was still supposed to work. The woman on the other end told me that I was, despite most every other production being shut down for the day. She asked me to call back just before I was about to leave for the gig, but even then it was still going as planned.

I arrived to pretty much the only working production in Los Angeles to find a very distracted studio. We didn't really work that day. Mostly, we watched a small television in one of the offices. Because by then, the President was about to make a speech. We were all there, cast and crew, crammed into this office as a white plane landed on a massive stretch of lawn.

"Boy, it's a good thing the President didn't get killed." I said outloud, as he made his way to a podium. "Because then there'd be total chaos."

Perhaps that was a naive statement, as there was plenty of chaos already. Either way, it brought the ire of the director.

"You realize he has no power, right?!" He shouted at me. Everyone looked away from the tv and watched with shocked faces. No one else had really paid attention to what I'd said. "You realize that, right?!"

"Yeah..." I said, trying to diffuse the situation. "He's just a figurehead."

I don't really remember what else happened on that gig. I'm pretty sure not much work was accomplished. Not surprisingly, I wasn't booked on that show, anymore.

I also don't remember much of my waitressing job that night. To be fair, I rarely slept during those days, but it was also ten years ago. All I remember is knowing that as soon as my shift was over, I was going home. No to my apartment. Not anywhere else. Bad men had made planes knock down towers in New York, and I was going home to mommy and daddy. Because I could and I wasn't ashamed of it.

The Rest of Part 5

How I Spent My Summer Vacation, Part... 5?

From San Jose, Hottie and I drove along the central California coast, which is, in my oppinion, the best part of the California coast.

Why does Blogger keep limiting the amount of pictures I can post?