I miss her.
Still.
Badly.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
My Son Opey (not really)
I went to my first audition last night.
Not for the reality show, that's still in the casting stage. This was another deal altogether.
It was for a comedy/drama pilot set in Nashville. The character I was reading for was an Andy Griffith kind of dude, with a down home kind of mentality. About my age, close to my interest. Similar background.
It was an experience. Me and my friend Lee were sent by our agent to downtown Nashville. I kept trying to tell myself to act like it wasn't my first audition. I think I pulled it off. Most people would have guessed it was my second audition.
My son went with me, and my daughter - both had parts to read for, because, ironically enough my character had 2 kids close to their age. Kristi went along to keep an eye on the kids so I could focus.
My son asked me "Dad? If I get the part, can you get me a Nintendo DS?...cause a lot of kids have them and...well...Larry Boy has a game on the DS that I really want."
That's my boy. Few days after Christmas and he's already building the list.
"Son - if you nail this part and they want you, then you'll be buying me a Nintendo DS - well actually you'll be buying Daddy a Hummer, but it's like a DS kind of...they both come in black."
He didn't get it. He just took my answer as a "Yes, Son. If you get the part you get a DS!"
The kids went first. One at a time. I didn't go in with them because I didn't want to make them nervous, but I'm told Kailen stole the show. Apparently he stood there on camera and recited 5 pages of lines he had just read for the for the first time that morning with the right emotion, inflection, and tone - all while making goofy 6 year old faces at the camera.
Dani didn't seem as sure she wanted to do it once she got there. And I wasn't about to push her into it. Then it was my turn.
Not sure how I did. I mean, I thought I was great, but not sure the decision makers arrived at the same decision I did.
They say there are a lot of times when you think you really blew it, and it turns out they want you - so, since "they" say that, I must have a good shot. We'll see.
But as we were leaving my son calmly looked up and me "Dad? I think it's a pretty good bet we can get that DS tonight if you want to...cause...I'm pretty sure I nailed it."
Not for the reality show, that's still in the casting stage. This was another deal altogether.
It was for a comedy/drama pilot set in Nashville. The character I was reading for was an Andy Griffith kind of dude, with a down home kind of mentality. About my age, close to my interest. Similar background.
It was an experience. Me and my friend Lee were sent by our agent to downtown Nashville. I kept trying to tell myself to act like it wasn't my first audition. I think I pulled it off. Most people would have guessed it was my second audition.
My son went with me, and my daughter - both had parts to read for, because, ironically enough my character had 2 kids close to their age. Kristi went along to keep an eye on the kids so I could focus.
My son asked me "Dad? If I get the part, can you get me a Nintendo DS?...cause a lot of kids have them and...well...Larry Boy has a game on the DS that I really want."
That's my boy. Few days after Christmas and he's already building the list.
"Son - if you nail this part and they want you, then you'll be buying me a Nintendo DS - well actually you'll be buying Daddy a Hummer, but it's like a DS kind of...they both come in black."
He didn't get it. He just took my answer as a "Yes, Son. If you get the part you get a DS!"
The kids went first. One at a time. I didn't go in with them because I didn't want to make them nervous, but I'm told Kailen stole the show. Apparently he stood there on camera and recited 5 pages of lines he had just read for the for the first time that morning with the right emotion, inflection, and tone - all while making goofy 6 year old faces at the camera.
Dani didn't seem as sure she wanted to do it once she got there. And I wasn't about to push her into it. Then it was my turn.
Not sure how I did. I mean, I thought I was great, but not sure the decision makers arrived at the same decision I did.
They say there are a lot of times when you think you really blew it, and it turns out they want you - so, since "they" say that, I must have a good shot. We'll see.
But as we were leaving my son calmly looked up and me "Dad? I think it's a pretty good bet we can get that DS tonight if you want to...cause...I'm pretty sure I nailed it."
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
December 12th again for the first time
It's my birthday today.
I've done this before.
37 times to be exact.
This is the first. A new kind of birthday. Today, the day of my birth is more of a reminder about the day of my death. I'm ready for it to die.
A year ago I was in mad love. I had no job, no family, no home, no future, no shoulder, no strength, no sleep, and worst of all, no peace. For the last twelve months I've tried hard to get any part of any of it back. I haven't been to successful at it.
God has been more faithful than I was.
Today I own my own business, have my family back, have an agent, close friends, some sleep, and am only partially out of my self absorbed mind. And I've enjoyed patches of sleep.
Hey, it's more than I deserve, and day by day it gets better.
I have a portion, a moment of peace. I'm getting there.
Happy rebirth day to me.
I've done this before.
37 times to be exact.
This is the first. A new kind of birthday. Today, the day of my birth is more of a reminder about the day of my death. I'm ready for it to die.
A year ago I was in mad love. I had no job, no family, no home, no future, no shoulder, no strength, no sleep, and worst of all, no peace. For the last twelve months I've tried hard to get any part of any of it back. I haven't been to successful at it.
God has been more faithful than I was.
Today I own my own business, have my family back, have an agent, close friends, some sleep, and am only partially out of my self absorbed mind. And I've enjoyed patches of sleep.
Hey, it's more than I deserve, and day by day it gets better.
I have a portion, a moment of peace. I'm getting there.
Happy rebirth day to me.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
All Numbed up Again
I had oral surgery two days ago.
It was everything I knew it would be, with added swelling.
I was told to avoid food, swishing liquids, straws, flaky foods, spicy foods, tooth brushing.
I was also told to keep it clean and to stay hydrated. Anyone else see a problem here?
I found out I'm the best at a bad thing. My dentist, and oral surgeon both took one look at my x-rays and told me the same thing: "You've got to have the longest root nerve endings I have ever seen!"
Perfect
Of all the things I could have that are the "longest things" my doctors could have seen - it has to be root nerve endings. Awesome.
Turns out that my Shaquille like nerve endings make it more likely for there to be nerve damage, as well as increases my chances of there being permanent facial nerve damage. Sweet.
After 2 days - I have swelling and feeling back in my face. My very large face. I look like the new "Puff-Daddy".
Still all in all, it's a new kind of numb, so I'll take it. It beats the numb I've been not-feeling for the last year. And at least this time I had the trouble spot ripped from my flesh. At least this time the pain, numbness, and costs are worth it. In a year, this will just be a bad memory. It won't be something that's still rotting inside of me. It'll just be something that used to haunt me at night, something that demanded my attention for a finite amount of time.
Yesterday it may have felt like it would never stop sending pain signals throughout my body, but the truth is, the pain has already dropped a thousand degrees (except for me being dumb enough to eat a sugar cookie earlier this morning). I can tell it's not as bad today as it was yesterday.
I can live with that.
It was everything I knew it would be, with added swelling.
I was told to avoid food, swishing liquids, straws, flaky foods, spicy foods, tooth brushing.
I was also told to keep it clean and to stay hydrated. Anyone else see a problem here?
I found out I'm the best at a bad thing. My dentist, and oral surgeon both took one look at my x-rays and told me the same thing: "You've got to have the longest root nerve endings I have ever seen!"
Perfect
Of all the things I could have that are the "longest things" my doctors could have seen - it has to be root nerve endings. Awesome.
Turns out that my Shaquille like nerve endings make it more likely for there to be nerve damage, as well as increases my chances of there being permanent facial nerve damage. Sweet.
After 2 days - I have swelling and feeling back in my face. My very large face. I look like the new "Puff-Daddy".
Still all in all, it's a new kind of numb, so I'll take it. It beats the numb I've been not-feeling for the last year. And at least this time I had the trouble spot ripped from my flesh. At least this time the pain, numbness, and costs are worth it. In a year, this will just be a bad memory. It won't be something that's still rotting inside of me. It'll just be something that used to haunt me at night, something that demanded my attention for a finite amount of time.
Yesterday it may have felt like it would never stop sending pain signals throughout my body, but the truth is, the pain has already dropped a thousand degrees (except for me being dumb enough to eat a sugar cookie earlier this morning). I can tell it's not as bad today as it was yesterday.
I can live with that.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Nail Polish and Sex Crazed Rats Covered in Dirty Light
I have this friend that loves to wear those unique, clever t-shirts that have become so popular that very few of them are unique or clever.
I asked him where he got his unique and clever t-shirts.
He said "Wal-Mart."
Wal - Mart? Seriously? Let's all think about that for a minute.
(60 seconds later) Ok - so - in order to get a "unique" t-shirt...you...go...to Wal-Mart?
Anyone else see a problem with this idea?
That's like leading off CNN news coverage with the story entitled "World's Best Kept Secret."
I was in Wal-Mart tonight. It made me remember the power of advertisement. You see I had just gone into the home improvement aisle to pick up some light bulbs. I got a pack of two for $1.97.
I was pleased. Good price. But as I was walking out of that aisle to meet my wife in the "You think that warming sex gel stuff really works?" aisle, I noticed another brand of light bulbs with better packaging.
Now I hate to admit that I am one of the fools that is swayed by such things - but I am one of those fools. For instance - I drink Dasani instead of Aquafina for one reason only - I cannot in good conscience as a designer reward the Aquafina people for covering every bottle in that mountain-with-a-sun-behind-it-because-we-have-no-freakin-imagination logo they have. Sorry - can't do it. I have lines I won't cross (shutup).
And please don't get me started on the SONIC drive in log - What the hell is that thing behind the letters? It's like a futuristic guitar pic - or a gay amoeba. It's distracting to look at.
Anyway - back to the bulbs. I stopped momentarily and was entranced by the fine red graphic that begged me to stop and hold the obviously finer orbs of light giver offers. But after a second - I gathered my wits and scoffed. I was no common hick shopper who could be won over with mere bright colors and fancy paper. No sir - I've always been more of a Target shopper anyway - but there's not a store really close so I got to Wal-Mart four times in a while. But - I'm not the usual plaid loving, dip chewing, bent hat wearing hillbilly. I was a sophisticated, educated (studied Hebrew- alef, bet, gimmel, dalet...thank you) intelligent man. So I turned my head and once again started for the "wheee - fun and tingly sex stuff" aisle.
"Man I hope that stuff doesn't burn...nah - they probably tested it on rat penises or something... Wonder what kind of brush they would put it on with...like a nail polish brush maybe?...I wonder if they could tell that the rat really liked it?...what if the rat just got aroused by the actual brushing?...that probably would feel nice...how large do they make those nail polish brushes anyway?...where's the painting aisle?"
I was interrupted in these ponderings when ...(please read at www.fameface.com)
I asked him where he got his unique and clever t-shirts.
He said "Wal-Mart."
Wal - Mart? Seriously? Let's all think about that for a minute.
(60 seconds later) Ok - so - in order to get a "unique" t-shirt...you...go...to Wal-Mart?
Anyone else see a problem with this idea?
That's like leading off CNN news coverage with the story entitled "World's Best Kept Secret."
I was in Wal-Mart tonight. It made me remember the power of advertisement. You see I had just gone into the home improvement aisle to pick up some light bulbs. I got a pack of two for $1.97.
I was pleased. Good price. But as I was walking out of that aisle to meet my wife in the "You think that warming sex gel stuff really works?" aisle, I noticed another brand of light bulbs with better packaging.
Now I hate to admit that I am one of the fools that is swayed by such things - but I am one of those fools. For instance - I drink Dasani instead of Aquafina for one reason only - I cannot in good conscience as a designer reward the Aquafina people for covering every bottle in that mountain-with-a-sun-behind-it-because-we-have-no-freakin-imagination logo they have. Sorry - can't do it. I have lines I won't cross (shutup).
And please don't get me started on the SONIC drive in log - What the hell is that thing behind the letters? It's like a futuristic guitar pic - or a gay amoeba. It's distracting to look at.
Anyway - back to the bulbs. I stopped momentarily and was entranced by the fine red graphic that begged me to stop and hold the obviously finer orbs of light giver offers. But after a second - I gathered my wits and scoffed. I was no common hick shopper who could be won over with mere bright colors and fancy paper. No sir - I've always been more of a Target shopper anyway - but there's not a store really close so I got to Wal-Mart four times in a while. But - I'm not the usual plaid loving, dip chewing, bent hat wearing hillbilly. I was a sophisticated, educated (studied Hebrew- alef, bet, gimmel, dalet...thank you) intelligent man. So I turned my head and once again started for the "wheee - fun and tingly sex stuff" aisle.
"Man I hope that stuff doesn't burn...nah - they probably tested it on rat penises or something... Wonder what kind of brush they would put it on with...like a nail polish brush maybe?...I wonder if they could tell that the rat really liked it?...what if the rat just got aroused by the actual brushing?...that probably would feel nice...how large do they make those nail polish brushes anyway?...where's the painting aisle?"
I was interrupted in these ponderings when ...(please read at www.fameface.com)
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Party Hats and Pallbearers
Party hats and Pallbearers
My wife, Kristi, was telling me a story over dinner tonight about a co-worker of hers that had a friend die recently.
She mentioned that she wasn't going to go to her friend's funeral because her friend wasn't going to have a funeral - her friend had a requested a party. She didn't want a mourning time in honor of her death- she wanted a celebration to remember her life.
I don't know the woman who died. I don't even know my wife's friend. I wouldn't assume to tell either of them how to handle a tragedy that I have no role in, but it does seem to be a popular opinion in today's world - the idea of denying sadness.
And I think that's sad.
This woman - whoever she was - was a one in over a billion. She had a way with words, and a style and a personality that was unique to her - I know she did - and I didn't know her at all, but that's the way God made us. Now I didn't say she was exceptional in how she said things and how she reacted. Maybe she was boring, and humorless, and without any obvious talent. I doubt that was the case - but it's possible. But even if it were true - she was still the only her that her friends, family, and loved ones had.
Now she's gone. Not for good, but for this life's "for good." Why is that wrong to treat that like a loss. It is a loss.
This is where I turn it back to me.
I have people I love that hate to see me in pain. I have people that are annoyed to see me in pain, and I even have those annoying people that believe they can end my pain. And a portion of all of them hold the same ridiculous opion regarding pain - it can, and should be avoided.
Don't misunderstand me here - I hate pain. Even the deserved kind - especially the deserved kid, BUT - I want mine. I hate it. I loathe it. I hate myself for still carrying it around with me every place I go- but it beats the hell out of the alternative - dellusion/denial/avoidance.
Here's the truth. I lost something I valued - my belief that I was a strong and honest and good man, with a devastating smile, perfectly formed butt topped off with a kind heart, strong passions, and a gift to make people smile and laugh when they needed it most.
I lost someone I loved - a woman that made me feel like the man I was just mentioning. Someone that I imagined years with, a life with, and even a death with - and in every imagined moment I had a smile and was saying a thankful prayer to God that I was the one that was with her through it all.
I lost something I can't find at the moment - my peace. The faith that always gave me enough belief in who I was to let me get up when I got knocked down.
I seem to have lost that somewhere during the latest fall.
But here's the thing. Losing all of that is suppposed to hurt. The pain shouldn't go away because I simply realized that she didn't care about me, or because I realized it was wrong and now I've decided to do what's right.
That's just not right.
The things I lost - all of them - had worth. They meant something. They carry consequence, and part of that means pain. Popular belief be damned - pain is part of the joy process.
Listen - I admit that I don't want my agony a second longer than I'm supposed to have it - and the truth is, I'm starting to become afraid that I'll have it forever, but at least I'll remember the weight of my choices, and I won't forget the value of what I lost.
I don't want to live my life drugged out of my broken mind, or chanting happy mantra prayers every time I come face to face with the price of my choice. I'd rather pay it, and move on trusting that I learned to make better choices and knowing that what I just lost was worth mourning. Who am I trying to fool anyway? God knows when my smile is decorating a crushed heart, or a dead dream. He isn't buying the psuedo grin. He knows better. He's the one who designed my tear ducts. Why should I try so damn hard to dam them up all the time?
So - in case any of you are wondering. When I die - I want grief. I want regret that you didn't hold me a little longer, hug me a little tighter, enjoy my personality a little more, and tell me how much you loved me. I want to hover over the sorrow for a long time and be deafened by the overwhelming sense of loss - because let me tell you - God didn't make another me. If I loved you - I loved you with my entire heart. I was grateful for every second, and every word - whether it was as a friend, lover, brother, or son - I cherished every moment, even the ones taken for granted. Every time I made you laugh (and there were a lot of times) it made me smile to see you smile, and I'll miss you.
All the moments I had with you I swear will be worth missing - and you know it.
So - when that day comes - whenever that day comes - I'll be watching, and crying and hoping I'm not the only one. I won't miss parties as much as I'll miss days with you and the chance to have new days.
So please, do me a favor and bring a handkerchief, 2 boxes of kleenex, and notebook filled with all the stories of me you can remember but are blubbering too much to tell because as selfish as it might sound - I want to know I was someone it hurt you to lose.
And that's just not the kind of thing that goes with a party hat.
My wife, Kristi, was telling me a story over dinner tonight about a co-worker of hers that had a friend die recently.
She mentioned that she wasn't going to go to her friend's funeral because her friend wasn't going to have a funeral - her friend had a requested a party. She didn't want a mourning time in honor of her death- she wanted a celebration to remember her life.
I don't know the woman who died. I don't even know my wife's friend. I wouldn't assume to tell either of them how to handle a tragedy that I have no role in, but it does seem to be a popular opinion in today's world - the idea of denying sadness.
And I think that's sad.
This woman - whoever she was - was a one in over a billion. She had a way with words, and a style and a personality that was unique to her - I know she did - and I didn't know her at all, but that's the way God made us. Now I didn't say she was exceptional in how she said things and how she reacted. Maybe she was boring, and humorless, and without any obvious talent. I doubt that was the case - but it's possible. But even if it were true - she was still the only her that her friends, family, and loved ones had.
Now she's gone. Not for good, but for this life's "for good." Why is that wrong to treat that like a loss. It is a loss.
This is where I turn it back to me.
I have people I love that hate to see me in pain. I have people that are annoyed to see me in pain, and I even have those annoying people that believe they can end my pain. And a portion of all of them hold the same ridiculous opion regarding pain - it can, and should be avoided.
Don't misunderstand me here - I hate pain. Even the deserved kind - especially the deserved kid, BUT - I want mine. I hate it. I loathe it. I hate myself for still carrying it around with me every place I go- but it beats the hell out of the alternative - dellusion/denial/avoidance.
Here's the truth. I lost something I valued - my belief that I was a strong and honest and good man, with a devastating smile, perfectly formed butt topped off with a kind heart, strong passions, and a gift to make people smile and laugh when they needed it most.
I lost someone I loved - a woman that made me feel like the man I was just mentioning. Someone that I imagined years with, a life with, and even a death with - and in every imagined moment I had a smile and was saying a thankful prayer to God that I was the one that was with her through it all.
I lost something I can't find at the moment - my peace. The faith that always gave me enough belief in who I was to let me get up when I got knocked down.
I seem to have lost that somewhere during the latest fall.
But here's the thing. Losing all of that is suppposed to hurt. The pain shouldn't go away because I simply realized that she didn't care about me, or because I realized it was wrong and now I've decided to do what's right.
That's just not right.
The things I lost - all of them - had worth. They meant something. They carry consequence, and part of that means pain. Popular belief be damned - pain is part of the joy process.
Listen - I admit that I don't want my agony a second longer than I'm supposed to have it - and the truth is, I'm starting to become afraid that I'll have it forever, but at least I'll remember the weight of my choices, and I won't forget the value of what I lost.
I don't want to live my life drugged out of my broken mind, or chanting happy mantra prayers every time I come face to face with the price of my choice. I'd rather pay it, and move on trusting that I learned to make better choices and knowing that what I just lost was worth mourning. Who am I trying to fool anyway? God knows when my smile is decorating a crushed heart, or a dead dream. He isn't buying the psuedo grin. He knows better. He's the one who designed my tear ducts. Why should I try so damn hard to dam them up all the time?
So - in case any of you are wondering. When I die - I want grief. I want regret that you didn't hold me a little longer, hug me a little tighter, enjoy my personality a little more, and tell me how much you loved me. I want to hover over the sorrow for a long time and be deafened by the overwhelming sense of loss - because let me tell you - God didn't make another me. If I loved you - I loved you with my entire heart. I was grateful for every second, and every word - whether it was as a friend, lover, brother, or son - I cherished every moment, even the ones taken for granted. Every time I made you laugh (and there were a lot of times) it made me smile to see you smile, and I'll miss you.
All the moments I had with you I swear will be worth missing - and you know it.
So - when that day comes - whenever that day comes - I'll be watching, and crying and hoping I'm not the only one. I won't miss parties as much as I'll miss days with you and the chance to have new days.
So please, do me a favor and bring a handkerchief, 2 boxes of kleenex, and notebook filled with all the stories of me you can remember but are blubbering too much to tell because as selfish as it might sound - I want to know I was someone it hurt you to lose.
And that's just not the kind of thing that goes with a party hat.
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