jesus' favorite

risen

Since this semi-blog has a semi-religious name, I figure I’d take the time to leave some semi-vomit on the page. Here goes.

It’s Easter. As a kid, I spent most with my Dad, step-mom, and brothers and sisters. It was a holiday the courts decided he would have so we spent most in Key West creating memories anywhere from splashing contests to drunk moped rides. It was always fun. Always lively.

Calling my Dad today, knowing he was alone, brought the ‘I miss my step-mom slash I miss who my Dad was with my step-mom’ pit up again. Sure, time eases all that gut wrenching-stare at your wall-I can’t move- pain but it doesn’t ease the ‘really?’ pain. Really? She’s really still gone? Fucking really????

My friend’s cancer came back. Third time. She’s 37ish. She’s beautiful. She’s read The Secret. Yeah, she’ll beat it. Again. I know. We all know. But that moment where all you want is to get back the day before, when you didn’t know, and she didn't know, can’t come. And you’re stuck. Stuck fucking asking...REALLY?

LA is a strange place. If you're not careful you'll fall quickly prey to the illusion that Uggs and hair extensions really do give you worth. I used to visit a friend who lives in Nicole Richie's building. Aside from almost getting papp-a-rape-zzied, the 'you can only valet here because all the streets are permit and you'll get a 45 dollar ticket' valet guys used to think I was a delivery.

'Where you deliver?'
'No, I'm here to see so and so.'
'You not delivery?'
'Uh, no.'

Stare.

'At least not today. Left the ol'Pappa John's sign at home.'

Stare.

'You not delivery?'
'No!!!! I'm here to see so and so. I was here last week.'
'Ok. Park bottom level.'
'Oh, I thought you park it. He did last week.'
'Bottom level. Park yourself.'

Okay. I'll park myself while you go fuck yourself. How 'bout that? Sorry, I didn't know a late 90s ride was such an eyesore.

Anyway, to think I would still live here, blows my mind. Ask my old buddy Ken. I was a Michigander thru and thru...slightly bitchy, slighty trashy, and slightly scared to wish for more. But it’s late night driving moments that remind me I do live here: the semi-quiet road, an open rickety sunroof, a dead cell phone, and a stillness. A stillness of a completed day, and the excitement of a new one. A moment that Nanc doesn’t get to experience anymore.

Death really does teach you to live. It really really does. I can’t say this past year and half has been easy. Losing almost everything close, in more ways than one, almost took me down. But learning how to rebuild has taught me more. Yes, I've lost some friends. Yes, my soul has aged. But in a way that some new Oil Of Olay cream doesn't need to reverse. So when I don’t get that ‘you name it product’ callback, or when some ‘you name it show’ isn’t my next gig, I stop. And breathe. And remember that, for today, that’s enough. (And then ironically, while breathing, I actually enjoy the gigs I do get. Imagine that).

Happy Easter or whatever.

****(I didn't know the bunny from Donnie Darko was around in the 80s).

watch

My husband works in production. It’s a hard job with long hours. He left a 5 year run on American Idol after this seasons’ auditions and now works on Randy Jackson’s new MTV show.

Upon seeing this, I feel really bad about how hard he’s working.

(He's the 'Enthousiatic Guy').

Poor thing.

1:57

My husband's grandfather passed away yesterday at 1:57. He was 88. He lived hard. And good.

If you have a grandpa alive, call em. If you don't, remember 'em for a sec.

I remember making a model space shuttle with my one grandfather and I remember tap dancing in my other one's hospital room.

WW what the F!

I don't know about you, but we're happy here that Mister Wheathin's nose is getting better and he can boop bitty beep beep again. I can't imagine going through that, so welcome back kid! I owe you a beer.

In reading my nerd-o-RSS's this morning, I saw he had a post about a WWF quiz. Sweet! I'm always game for a quiz. I like that instant satisfaction of knowing if I'm dumb or smart. Like, I took a geography quiz last week. Instant dumb. I took a cosmo magazine quiz at the gym the other day. Instant smart. But uh really, I'd rather locate a dude's moan zones than fucking Spain any day. Reee'iiiiiight?

So, with my new non-coffee-but-still-a-little-jolt-drink in hand (day two people!!!) I clicked on over to that quiz of his. (And side note, I was raised with an older brother who watched that Saturday am WWF. In fact, he liked to call my younger sister and I in his room, make one of us the Iron Sheik, the other Junkyard Dog, and watch us fight. We always did it, why, I don't know. And someone always cried).

Therefore, I took the quiz knowing I had a lil' knowledge in my back pocket, I mean maybe not AS MUCH as Wil, but with as much appreciation for that time period and those characters as he wrote about.

Anyway, I scored THIS.

Score: 21% (3 out of 14)

Oh man. Instant dumb!!

And I really thought I was on to something. But now looking back, yes, I think Jake the Snake had those crazy green and blue tights and I think Sgt. Slaughter had a whistle or something, but regardless, I did bad.

Although, on those action figures, I think we could all locate a moan zone or two.

Elbow and piledriver.

P.S. Now find me a quiz about smurfs? I'll wipe Wil's face with it!