Yo yo yiggity yo....
Hey peeps... I know it's been a while... hope the past 6 months have found you all in good health and spirits. So, I know you are all wondering about the reason for my prolonged absence. As always, real life has a pesky way of getting in the way, but that's not the only reason I have to offer. Seems I've come to the proverbial fork in the road (so to speak)... You see, my story has been in the process of being converted from a novel to a screenplay. Can you believe it??? I mean, ME!!! In the movies....!!!!! It's a long and arduous process, and, as a result, my story has changed a tad bit. Don't worry... I'll get you up to speed... all in due time! In the meantime, there are words in a story that you just can't find in a script, and since these words might be ixnayed in the silver screen edition... I wanted to leave you with some of my famous last words from the book edition. They are my favorite quotes and contrary to popular belief, I think they hold a lot of wisdom. Thanks for checking in and stay tuned.... as Arnold would say... I'll be back!!! Cheers...
“There are few things on this earth that can make me cry.
The slow, drawn-out roll of a cello. A single, lonesome
strum of a guitar. A beautiful waltz. Seeing my uncle
crumble like a deck of cards.”
“There are different degrees of missing someone. You
can miss your girlfriend, when she has to work late one
night and is not there to take your phone call immediately
when you find yourself in the middle of some silly crisis.
You can miss your dad, who died too early in life but it’s
just something you’ve learned to live with. Or you can
miss the outline of your lover, lying next to you in bed
and caressing the trace of your palm like it was the most
natural thing in the world. And in that moment, I missed
Jack. I missed him so intensely and so acutely that it
actually hurt to breathe.”
“I brushed by him and ran down the stairs and out onto
the street. I gulped in the fresh air with huge breaths,
trying to stop my insides from collapsing . I didn’t know
where I was going and I didn’t know if Jack had followed
me outside or if he was yelling my name in vain. A part
of me was afraid to look back; both because I was afraid
he would be there and because I was afraid he wasn’t. I
just ran. I ran and ran, trying, I think, to outrun the
burden of my penance.”
“That’s it for now. Everything else is a work in progress.
One thing I’ve learned is that you take each day as it
comes, and when you least expect it, life usually
surprises you. And when things don’t work out the way
you planned, hold on tight and enjoy the ride. You just
don’t know what’s waiting for you around the corner.”
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Crazy Cowgirls
Howdy Cowboys and Cowgals,
Sorry about the hiatus... I was at a li'l old wedding down in Crawford, Texas this past weekend. I'd tell you more but the press has put a gag order on me... you figure it out. Here's a clue... I did get to arrive via Airforce One!!
So last I left off regaling you with tales of my western adventure I told you all about Bruce Walker, father of the bride and ex secretary of state. Bruce is quite the character if you can recall but I'll tell ya... his daughter, Daisy, is just as loony. I mean, I just didn't see the connection between Randy and Daisy in the beginning. Randy was a quiet, sweet Walmart manager whose true passion was dancing and Daisy was a true western "spitfire", at least that's what Tony, the chauffeur, told me. Among other things Tony told me was that Daisy used to have a thing with Luke Cassidy, great grandkid of Butch and a certified badass, not to mention outlaw. Luke got caught throwing rodeos and is now biding his time in the state penitentiary where, it is rumored, Daisy has been known to show up riding Spitfire, her horse. I told you cowboys really exist.
Anyway, suffice it to say that I wasn't seeing the draw of Daisy to Randy. Daisy liked to drink beer, belch in publc and take off for days at a time, unannounced, on Spitfire, to go pick flowers by the Rio Grande. And as far as I could see, the only thing Randy liked to do was to dance and stare at Daisy with a dreamy, whimsical look in his eye like he was a lovesick puppy. Randy was a super nice guy but, even though I hate to say it, he looked like sort of a wuss next to Daisy. Daisy exuded energy, not to mention a touch of mental instability, but in the end it turned out to be Daisy who taught me a thing or two about love. I can rant on and on at weddings about what makes a marriage tick, about what the secrets to sustaining love are, on the unique details of a relationship, but the truth of the matter is I don't practice what I preach. I don't swallow my own medicine. I don't listen to what I say... I merely craft the words. Well, Daisy changed all that for me. Even though Daisy was as different as night is to day from Randy, and even though she didn't love him exactly in the same way that he loved her, she did love him. As Daisy put it, "I might take off for three days on Spitfire but I'd always come back, eventually. I'd always come back. Now, aint that love?" And I have to ask, isn't it? It might be of an unconventional nature, it might require Randy to make more of a compromise or effort in the relationship than Daisy, but if it worked for them then who was I to argue?
And then I thought of Jack. My Jack. And I realized that I was nothing more than a coward. Daisy still retained who she was but still lived up to her honor and obligation... not that she owed anyone anything but she did love Randy, whereas I had runaway, literally, at the alter because I didn't want to risk anything for love. But that's just the thing I've learned, in matters of love, it is not only recommended but necessary to risk things, and that's what makes it all the sweeter in the end. As the saying goes, "nothing ventured, nothing gained" and I've come to learn firsthand that it's true.
Anyway, that's it for my western adventure in Jackson Hole. It still remains one of my top travel destinations and every time I go, I can't help but do a two step or twirl out on the dance floor. I must have a little cowgirl in me afterall, among other things. Oh, and you'll be happy to know that I earned a pair of spurs myself. Turns out I made quite an impression on Bruce Walker afterall. I mean, he is the one who hooked me up with the White House in the first place. That's it for now. To discover how else my feelings for Jack changed since JH, stay tuned. Although I can't promise when I'll write again, I can promise that I will (at some point). Until then... cheers.
Sorry about the hiatus... I was at a li'l old wedding down in Crawford, Texas this past weekend. I'd tell you more but the press has put a gag order on me... you figure it out. Here's a clue... I did get to arrive via Airforce One!!
So last I left off regaling you with tales of my western adventure I told you all about Bruce Walker, father of the bride and ex secretary of state. Bruce is quite the character if you can recall but I'll tell ya... his daughter, Daisy, is just as loony. I mean, I just didn't see the connection between Randy and Daisy in the beginning. Randy was a quiet, sweet Walmart manager whose true passion was dancing and Daisy was a true western "spitfire", at least that's what Tony, the chauffeur, told me. Among other things Tony told me was that Daisy used to have a thing with Luke Cassidy, great grandkid of Butch and a certified badass, not to mention outlaw. Luke got caught throwing rodeos and is now biding his time in the state penitentiary where, it is rumored, Daisy has been known to show up riding Spitfire, her horse. I told you cowboys really exist.
Anyway, suffice it to say that I wasn't seeing the draw of Daisy to Randy. Daisy liked to drink beer, belch in publc and take off for days at a time, unannounced, on Spitfire, to go pick flowers by the Rio Grande. And as far as I could see, the only thing Randy liked to do was to dance and stare at Daisy with a dreamy, whimsical look in his eye like he was a lovesick puppy. Randy was a super nice guy but, even though I hate to say it, he looked like sort of a wuss next to Daisy. Daisy exuded energy, not to mention a touch of mental instability, but in the end it turned out to be Daisy who taught me a thing or two about love. I can rant on and on at weddings about what makes a marriage tick, about what the secrets to sustaining love are, on the unique details of a relationship, but the truth of the matter is I don't practice what I preach. I don't swallow my own medicine. I don't listen to what I say... I merely craft the words. Well, Daisy changed all that for me. Even though Daisy was as different as night is to day from Randy, and even though she didn't love him exactly in the same way that he loved her, she did love him. As Daisy put it, "I might take off for three days on Spitfire but I'd always come back, eventually. I'd always come back. Now, aint that love?" And I have to ask, isn't it? It might be of an unconventional nature, it might require Randy to make more of a compromise or effort in the relationship than Daisy, but if it worked for them then who was I to argue?
And then I thought of Jack. My Jack. And I realized that I was nothing more than a coward. Daisy still retained who she was but still lived up to her honor and obligation... not that she owed anyone anything but she did love Randy, whereas I had runaway, literally, at the alter because I didn't want to risk anything for love. But that's just the thing I've learned, in matters of love, it is not only recommended but necessary to risk things, and that's what makes it all the sweeter in the end. As the saying goes, "nothing ventured, nothing gained" and I've come to learn firsthand that it's true.
Anyway, that's it for my western adventure in Jackson Hole. It still remains one of my top travel destinations and every time I go, I can't help but do a two step or twirl out on the dance floor. I must have a little cowgirl in me afterall, among other things. Oh, and you'll be happy to know that I earned a pair of spurs myself. Turns out I made quite an impression on Bruce Walker afterall. I mean, he is the one who hooked me up with the White House in the first place. That's it for now. To discover how else my feelings for Jack changed since JH, stay tuned. Although I can't promise when I'll write again, I can promise that I will (at some point). Until then... cheers.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Cowboys and Cuban Cigars
Yo Yo Yiggity Yo,
(Sorry... I just watched Juno. The dialogue is quite catchy). It's been a while. Blame it on (in no particular order) appendicitis, a birthday and a spa getaway with the girls. Anyway, back to the tangled spiderweb that is my life.
So last time I left off I was headed west to Jackson Hole to toast the nuptials of Randy and Daisy Walker. My first impression was that cowboys still exist in America. Jackson Hole is full of rodeo riding, smart talkin', swaggering men donning cowboy hats and boots WITH spurs. It's quite a sight. And no cowboy is larger than life than Bruce Walker, father of the bride and ex secretary of state, if you can believe that. Bruce Walker commands presence. You can hear his spurs jangle a mile away and when he comes into view, puffing away on his cuban cigars, you practically quake in your own boots.
Don't get me wrong... he's not a bad guy... jusst a little bit intimidating. Secret service men crawl around his ranch, aptly named The Homestead, and the walls are lined with stuffed heads of large animals that evidently he hunted himself. Now do you see what I mean by intimidating?? Huge heads of moose and bear surrounded me and looked at me like I had no business being there. And that's what I felt... particularly when, at dinner, Bruce and Daisy made jokes that the sirloin we were eating had names like Daisy and Bessie and were former residents of The Homestead. What can I say? I'm an east coaster; I didn't pick up on the wild west lingo or inside jokes at first glance. That was followed by Bruce's swift excusal from dinner because of a nine o'clock "appointment", which ended at ten with light, swift laughter trailing down the hallway and the secretive adieus behind closed doors.
But now things are different. Daisy and Bruce remain close friends of mine. I may be a lot of things but first and formost I'm irresistable. You can't help but not like me. Anyway, that's the 411 on Bruce Walker. Next entry I'll enlighten you on Daisy, which is a whole story unto itself. Jackson Hole remains a favorite travel destination of mine and isn't nice to know that I have FAMILY to stay with every time I blow into town. That's all for now. Tune in next time for more of my wacky west adventure. Until later... Cheers.
(Sorry... I just watched Juno. The dialogue is quite catchy). It's been a while. Blame it on (in no particular order) appendicitis, a birthday and a spa getaway with the girls. Anyway, back to the tangled spiderweb that is my life.
So last time I left off I was headed west to Jackson Hole to toast the nuptials of Randy and Daisy Walker. My first impression was that cowboys still exist in America. Jackson Hole is full of rodeo riding, smart talkin', swaggering men donning cowboy hats and boots WITH spurs. It's quite a sight. And no cowboy is larger than life than Bruce Walker, father of the bride and ex secretary of state, if you can believe that. Bruce Walker commands presence. You can hear his spurs jangle a mile away and when he comes into view, puffing away on his cuban cigars, you practically quake in your own boots.
Don't get me wrong... he's not a bad guy... jusst a little bit intimidating. Secret service men crawl around his ranch, aptly named The Homestead, and the walls are lined with stuffed heads of large animals that evidently he hunted himself. Now do you see what I mean by intimidating?? Huge heads of moose and bear surrounded me and looked at me like I had no business being there. And that's what I felt... particularly when, at dinner, Bruce and Daisy made jokes that the sirloin we were eating had names like Daisy and Bessie and were former residents of The Homestead. What can I say? I'm an east coaster; I didn't pick up on the wild west lingo or inside jokes at first glance. That was followed by Bruce's swift excusal from dinner because of a nine o'clock "appointment", which ended at ten with light, swift laughter trailing down the hallway and the secretive adieus behind closed doors.
But now things are different. Daisy and Bruce remain close friends of mine. I may be a lot of things but first and formost I'm irresistable. You can't help but not like me. Anyway, that's the 411 on Bruce Walker. Next entry I'll enlighten you on Daisy, which is a whole story unto itself. Jackson Hole remains a favorite travel destination of mine and isn't nice to know that I have FAMILY to stay with every time I blow into town. That's all for now. Tune in next time for more of my wacky west adventure. Until later... Cheers.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Western Bound
Hey Everybody,
I'm stuck in Witchita because of a weather delay. There are better places to be stuck than Witchita I suppose but I'm en route to Catalina so I guess I really can't complain.
So last time I left off telling you the tale that it is my complicated life I had just gotten fired, I was fighting with my mom and Dolly and Hor had gotten hitched. Things got infinitely better after that. The perpetual gray cloud that had taken residence in my head began to lift and believe it or not, I was looking forward to the prospect of toasting another wedding. Well, one day anyway. Problem was, there were no prospects on the horizon. Until Daisy Walker called.
Daisy called on a random Thursday afternoon in January. I had never met Daisy Walker before and had no idea who she was but she had a western twang that I found oddly charming and she was very persistent. Turns out Daisy was engaged to Randy Rhodes... the quiet, somewhat pathetic, cowboy I had met at Sam and Ella's wedding who was a friend of Dolly's. Dolly had told me at the time that Randy had had his heart broken over some vixen of a girl. Turns out that vixen was Daisy. Anyway, things seemed to have turned out inifinitely better for them after all. Anyway, yadda, yadda, yadda... Randy told Daisy about me and she called, hoping I might be able to fit them in for a February wedding. I wasn't the sought after "it" girl I am now (it was my pre-celebrity period) so I had no problem making room in my already empty schedule. It's not like I had a job to go to. So I accepted. Little did I know at that time that Randy and Daisy's wedding was going to have a profound affect on me. Not only did it catapult me into semi-celebrity stardom and kick off my career, but it affected me more than the other weddings in some ways. I began to change on the inside.
So just how did Daisy and Randy's wedding change me? To hear more about my adventures in Jackson Hole tune in next time. And you won't want to miss making the acquaintance of Bruce Walker, Daisy's dad. To this day, he is still, I think, the most eccentric character I've ever met, and I've met a few in my time... believe me. But until then... cheers
I'm stuck in Witchita because of a weather delay. There are better places to be stuck than Witchita I suppose but I'm en route to Catalina so I guess I really can't complain.
So last time I left off telling you the tale that it is my complicated life I had just gotten fired, I was fighting with my mom and Dolly and Hor had gotten hitched. Things got infinitely better after that. The perpetual gray cloud that had taken residence in my head began to lift and believe it or not, I was looking forward to the prospect of toasting another wedding. Well, one day anyway. Problem was, there were no prospects on the horizon. Until Daisy Walker called.
Daisy called on a random Thursday afternoon in January. I had never met Daisy Walker before and had no idea who she was but she had a western twang that I found oddly charming and she was very persistent. Turns out Daisy was engaged to Randy Rhodes... the quiet, somewhat pathetic, cowboy I had met at Sam and Ella's wedding who was a friend of Dolly's. Dolly had told me at the time that Randy had had his heart broken over some vixen of a girl. Turns out that vixen was Daisy. Anyway, things seemed to have turned out inifinitely better for them after all. Anyway, yadda, yadda, yadda... Randy told Daisy about me and she called, hoping I might be able to fit them in for a February wedding. I wasn't the sought after "it" girl I am now (it was my pre-celebrity period) so I had no problem making room in my already empty schedule. It's not like I had a job to go to. So I accepted. Little did I know at that time that Randy and Daisy's wedding was going to have a profound affect on me. Not only did it catapult me into semi-celebrity stardom and kick off my career, but it affected me more than the other weddings in some ways. I began to change on the inside.
So just how did Daisy and Randy's wedding change me? To hear more about my adventures in Jackson Hole tune in next time. And you won't want to miss making the acquaintance of Bruce Walker, Daisy's dad. To this day, he is still, I think, the most eccentric character I've ever met, and I've met a few in my time... believe me. But until then... cheers
Monday, March 31, 2008
Do It With Passion
Hey Guys and Gals,
Well, it's not April first yet and I managed to get another entry in before March comes to a close. Between jetting off to exotic locales (Jamaica, London, Aspen) and not so exotic locales(Cincinatti, Tacoma, Raleigh-Durham) and feeding my addiction to reality TV (Jabbawockeez won America's Best Dance Crew- Yahoo! And the new season of The Hills just kicked off!) I've barely had a moment to breathe. Sorry for the extended absence but hey, that's life.
Speaking of crazy schedules, dwindling hours in the day and a constant state of sleep deprivation (I only speak for myself but I know a lot of you out there can relate) does it ever make you wonder what the hell we're all doing? I mean, what's the point of it all if we can't find a moment to spare in our busy lives just to enjoy the moment, or better yet, something we really enjoy? Why do we wake up at some god awful hour every morning and go to sleep early each night just to go through the motions of another monotonous, overly stressful day? I don't know the answer either.. that's why I'm asking all of you, but it's something worth pondering.
One of the contestants on America's Best Dance Crew made a good point. She said, "If you're lucky enough to find a passion in life then stick with it. It's what makes life worth living." Seems like pretty good advice to me. So whether it's painting or cooking or dancing like a B-Boy... find SOMETHING you love and do it with passion. Our passions are what make life enjoyable and certainly not traffic jams or overtime or prickly bosses. Find something that can see you through to the other side. Then you just might be able to get through that dreaded 9:00 am meeting with dreaded clients a little bit easier. So let me know... what's YOU'RE passion? I'd love to hear your comments. I'm over and out for now. Until later... cheers
Well, it's not April first yet and I managed to get another entry in before March comes to a close. Between jetting off to exotic locales (Jamaica, London, Aspen) and not so exotic locales(Cincinatti, Tacoma, Raleigh-Durham) and feeding my addiction to reality TV (Jabbawockeez won America's Best Dance Crew- Yahoo! And the new season of The Hills just kicked off!) I've barely had a moment to breathe. Sorry for the extended absence but hey, that's life.
Speaking of crazy schedules, dwindling hours in the day and a constant state of sleep deprivation (I only speak for myself but I know a lot of you out there can relate) does it ever make you wonder what the hell we're all doing? I mean, what's the point of it all if we can't find a moment to spare in our busy lives just to enjoy the moment, or better yet, something we really enjoy? Why do we wake up at some god awful hour every morning and go to sleep early each night just to go through the motions of another monotonous, overly stressful day? I don't know the answer either.. that's why I'm asking all of you, but it's something worth pondering.
One of the contestants on America's Best Dance Crew made a good point. She said, "If you're lucky enough to find a passion in life then stick with it. It's what makes life worth living." Seems like pretty good advice to me. So whether it's painting or cooking or dancing like a B-Boy... find SOMETHING you love and do it with passion. Our passions are what make life enjoyable and certainly not traffic jams or overtime or prickly bosses. Find something that can see you through to the other side. Then you just might be able to get through that dreaded 9:00 am meeting with dreaded clients a little bit easier. So let me know... what's YOU'RE passion? I'd love to hear your comments. I'm over and out for now. Until later... cheers
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Unexpected Surprise
Hey Y'all,
I apologize for my skimpy presence as of late but hey, I told you I travel a lot. I had doubleheaders in San Diego and Toledo.... that's in Ohio, in case you didn't know. Anyway, S.D. was great, Toledo... well, let's just say there's not a whole lot to do.
Anyway, I know you're all DYING to know what happened to Uncle Hor. Last I told you, he had walked out in the middle of our Thanksgiving dinner at a chinese restaurant (is that an oxymoron or what?). It wasn't the greatest episode of my life. I got fired (I think I already told you that) and me and my mom were practically not even speaking. Anyway, long story short, on Christmas morning the doorbell rang (at an ungodly hour, I might add) and who was it but none other than Dolly and Hor. They had gotten hitched! And, believe it or not, on their ride home from Nashville (which coupled as their honeymoon) they made a pit stop in Sarasota (Uncle Hor had wanted to visit Clearwater since I told him abot my adventures) and ended up buying the unit next door to Morty and Addy! Now I'm offically related (sort of) to the Sarasota gang! It's funny how life turns out sometimes. You never know what's waiting around the corner. Until later... cheers
I apologize for my skimpy presence as of late but hey, I told you I travel a lot. I had doubleheaders in San Diego and Toledo.... that's in Ohio, in case you didn't know. Anyway, S.D. was great, Toledo... well, let's just say there's not a whole lot to do.
Anyway, I know you're all DYING to know what happened to Uncle Hor. Last I told you, he had walked out in the middle of our Thanksgiving dinner at a chinese restaurant (is that an oxymoron or what?). It wasn't the greatest episode of my life. I got fired (I think I already told you that) and me and my mom were practically not even speaking. Anyway, long story short, on Christmas morning the doorbell rang (at an ungodly hour, I might add) and who was it but none other than Dolly and Hor. They had gotten hitched! And, believe it or not, on their ride home from Nashville (which coupled as their honeymoon) they made a pit stop in Sarasota (Uncle Hor had wanted to visit Clearwater since I told him abot my adventures) and ended up buying the unit next door to Morty and Addy! Now I'm offically related (sort of) to the Sarasota gang! It's funny how life turns out sometimes. You never know what's waiting around the corner. Until later... cheers
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Truth in a Fortune Cookie
Hey People,
Well, I'm back and feeling groovy. And the best part is... it FINALLY stopped snowing in Beantown!! The sun has actually been out the last two days and the temp has actuallly creeped over freezing! Spring is coming my fellow New Englanders!
So I want to give a shout out to the lone reader who answered my plea for advice on whether I should tell Uncle Hor that I saw Dolly in Tennessee. Thanks hlr!! You'll be happy to know that I took your advice! It was Thanksgiving Day, no less, and I was sitting with Mom and Uncle Hor at the Duck Wok holiday brunch (we don't typically celebrate holidays the traditional way). Uncle Hor was eating hos chow lo mein, without a care in the world, and all of a sudden it hit me how pathetic he seemed. And I don't mean that in a bad or condescending way, only that his life could have been so much more than eating Thanksgiving dinner in a chinese restaurant with his niece and grand niece.
So I told him. I just blurted it out somewhere between the chow lo mein, the eggrolls and the crab rangoon (my personal favorite). I couldn't stand the possibility of what might of been looming over Uncle Hor, or over me. Sometimes a leap of faith is required. Nothing is gained without risk, so I risked my better judgment and Uncle Hor apparently risked his voracious appetite. He stood right up and walked out into the rain, without even cracking his fortune cookie, and we didn't hear from him for three weeks.
Needless to say, Mom was NOT happy with me but I thought Uncle Hor deserved to know. You can't go after what you want unless you know it's a possibility, otherwise, what the hell is the point? Anyway, that's all I got for tonight. If you want to find out how all of this translates and transpires, tune in next time. Until then... cheers
Well, I'm back and feeling groovy. And the best part is... it FINALLY stopped snowing in Beantown!! The sun has actually been out the last two days and the temp has actuallly creeped over freezing! Spring is coming my fellow New Englanders!
So I want to give a shout out to the lone reader who answered my plea for advice on whether I should tell Uncle Hor that I saw Dolly in Tennessee. Thanks hlr!! You'll be happy to know that I took your advice! It was Thanksgiving Day, no less, and I was sitting with Mom and Uncle Hor at the Duck Wok holiday brunch (we don't typically celebrate holidays the traditional way). Uncle Hor was eating hos chow lo mein, without a care in the world, and all of a sudden it hit me how pathetic he seemed. And I don't mean that in a bad or condescending way, only that his life could have been so much more than eating Thanksgiving dinner in a chinese restaurant with his niece and grand niece.
So I told him. I just blurted it out somewhere between the chow lo mein, the eggrolls and the crab rangoon (my personal favorite). I couldn't stand the possibility of what might of been looming over Uncle Hor, or over me. Sometimes a leap of faith is required. Nothing is gained without risk, so I risked my better judgment and Uncle Hor apparently risked his voracious appetite. He stood right up and walked out into the rain, without even cracking his fortune cookie, and we didn't hear from him for three weeks.
Needless to say, Mom was NOT happy with me but I thought Uncle Hor deserved to know. You can't go after what you want unless you know it's a possibility, otherwise, what the hell is the point? Anyway, that's all I got for tonight. If you want to find out how all of this translates and transpires, tune in next time. Until then... cheers
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)