Memory Lane Monday: End of Year Wrap-up

As the calendar year comes to a close, I sit back and think about the last 12 months. Am I where I expected to be by this time in my life? No. Am I better off than I was this time last year? Maybe.  Will I be better this time next year? Hopefully.
The end of the year has always been difficult for me, I've always felt a sense of loss and guilt for not accomplishing all I wanted, and a hint of depression towards the end of December, but this year, not so much. I credit my having successful talk therapy, the right medication, and a different outlook and way of thinking about things in life. Most people think of the year in a linear sense, and that way of thinking about it doesn't work for me anymore.  It makes me feel that sense of sadness and loss. I'm learning to think of time and the year the way the Pagans do- as a wheel. When thinking about the year as a wheel, then there is no real "end" and that sense of loss isn't as present. In the wheel of the year, I feel more connected to myself, to my past, to my present, to my future-whatever it may be. With this way of thinking I have more of a sense of hope on December 31st than I can remember having in years past.

Things I accomplished this year:

-I got my fear of elevators under control

-I became slightly addicted to burlesque 

-I did battle with a squirrel and a bird

I blogged the alphabet

-I faced my agoraphobic tendencies by having an awesome time at PAX EASTer

-I kept my blog going fairly consistently for over a year

-I met my writing/blogging/humor hero: Jenny Lawson-The Bloggess

-I went a full 4 months (and counting) without a major depressive episode

-I met one of my childhood heroes: Rob Paulsen

-I became eligible to join SAG-AFTRA 

-I Survived the 10th Doctor's regeneration into the 11th (it was difficult and highly emotional. Don't judge me)

-I got rid of my horrible job

I don't normally do resolutions for the New Year because, really, who keeps them? And when you don't keep them, you feel like a failure and get all depressed. So as this year cycles into the next, I have one goal in mind: be better. That's it. Be better. I will do what I am capable of at any given moment to be better. Be better mentally, be better physically, be a better girlfriend, a better daughter, a better sister, a better aunt, a better niece, a better friend, a better me. I will ask myself how past me would handle a situation, and I will ask how today me can handle it better. One goal. One goal is much less daunting than a list of "resolutions" to try to keep.

So let us all do our best to just be better, whatever it may mean. 

Happy New Year.

Memory Lane Monday: Yule Edition

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Happy Christmas Eve to all. If you don't celebrate Christmas, then Happy Monday to you. I'm with my family in Colorado this week. It's the first Christmas I've been home for in about 5 years, so it's kind of a big thing. This is also the first Christmas Boyfriend will be spending with my family, so he's in for a lot of new stuff. My parents are divorced and have been for most of my life, so I'm used to "sharing" Christmas between two places, but Boyfriend was very confused about the schedule at first. It's weird to him, but it's normal for me. We spent all morning watching a bunch of old family VHS tapes of Christmases past when my parents were together. I knew I was watching myself and my sister and my parents. I knew it was us, but it didn't quite register as a thing I experienced.  It also got me thinking about some of my favorite Christmas presents from the past. The all-time #1 best present was my dollhouse, and a close second was my Sega Genesis. I've also been thinking about some of my favorite Christmas traditions and how I'm at a point in my life where I'm having to develop new traditions or add new people and/or elements to the old ones. In other words, things are a changin. And change is scary for me.  But, tomorrow morning, I plan to wake up and spend Christmas morning with my mom, my Grandma, my sister, and Boyfriend (and step-dad if he is over his almost-pneumonia, blech) and then spend Christmas afternoon with my dad and half-brother and half-sister, just like so many Colorado Christmases before now. So today is a short and sweet wish for all to have a lovely and safe holiday in whichever way you celebrate it.

Reasons

Nobody likes losing their job even if it's one they hated. So I've decided to take a positive look at losing my job. It's ok because so far I've come up with these reasons:

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I now have more time to play video games.
Yippee!!!

I now have more time to pursue professional acting work.
Nothing beats waking up before 5am to schlep multiple changes of clothes to the set only to have the wardrobe department sneer at your clothes and sigh, "That'll have to do." Then you get to sit around for hours and hours until you are needed on set at which point you get to stand around on set for what feels like an eternity until they call "action" and you get to act like you're doing whatever it is they told you to do for about a minute until they cut. Then you get to stand around again while everything is reset and you get to do it all over again. All day. After your 10+ hour day is over, you get a lovely check of $75 in 2-3 weeks. I'm livin the dream, baby!


I now have more time to work higher-paying and/or freelance gigs.
I worked a Nintendo Wii U launch event (blog coming soon on that) and I work semi-regularly passing out flyers in Time Square. This is especially awesome on days like Santa Con. Nothing is more fun than standing in the cold dressed like an idiot and getting accosted by hundreds of drunk Santas. Still livin the dream.

I now have more time for laundry and other household chores.
I was able to attend to a project that was (literally) years in the making. I paired and folded every clean sock in my possession. Pairing and folding socks is like the world's worst game of Memory.

Every. Sock.

Including all of the black socks I've acquired over the years of working in restaurants and offices:

I hate black socks.

Sadly, there were some socks that could not be paired, for their brethren were MIA.

Not the Christmas cows! Noooooo!

I now have more time to write my blog.
If you guys liked my sock adventures, you are going to love my stories about cleaning the kitchen.
You're welcome.

Memory Lane Monday: My Shithole Apartment Part 8

This post is a little later in the day than usual. I'm having some trouble being funny this week, if I ever was to begin with. I think we can all understand. 

I may not have mentioned this in my lamenting over losing my 9-5 job, but  I do have a part-time job in addition to any acting gigs I can snag. I work as a promoter for different Broadway and Off-Broadway shows. Some people call it a "ticket barker" but I basically hand out flyers/coupons advertising different shows and I spend a lot of time in Times Square (*shudder*) and around tourists. It's not the most glamorous job in the world, but it gets me by. I mention this because this week I was starting to freak out a little (in case you hadn't noticed) that my current situation was beginning to mirror my situation about 4 years ago when I was living in my miracle studio apartment. This small feeling of despair began when I found roaches inside my coffee maker one morning last week before work. It was, indeed, a boo day. 

Living Away From Home On My Own

The Neighbor From Hell Begets the Year From Hell

A month or so went by and I hadn't heard much from Psycho 5F and I was starting to get settled into my new place and to get the hang of my new job. I was miserable at work, however. It was awful. I started getting ill all the time and was horribly depressed (sound familiar?) I was riddled with self-doubt, anxiety, and paranoia. It was bad, you guys. I would come home at night, play with my ferrets, watch TV, and sometimes boyfriend would come over but then I would go to bed and sleep forever. I would wake up with just enough time to get ready, make sure the ferrets were fed/watered, and get to work by the skin of my teeth. Every Day. My ferrets and Boyfriend were literally the only constant sources of joy and hope in my life. They were the reasons I kept trying. They were my reasons for getting out of bed in the morning and facing the day. But, I was still really stressed out and miserable most of the time. Something had to give.

I was living in my apartment for nearly two months and in that time, I had 4 unpleasant encounters with Psycho 5F. After the incident with the Super's wife, I didn't hear from 5F for a little while and thought she'd given up. Boy was I wrong.

May 2008:
Boyfriend and I were watching movies all night on my ancient tube TV with crappy speakers. I only say this because I want to make it perfectly clear that I did not own surround sound. Just a crappy old tube TV. I don't remember what we were watching, but by 3AM we were going to call it a night when a really foul smell we'd been noticing got much worse. We couldn't pinpoint the source, but we were certain that it was dead mouse smell. Paranoid that the mouse had died in my sofa, we carefully and as quietly as possible tried to cut open the lining on the bottom but didn't find anything. So, we decided to move the sofa out into the hallway to see if the smell got better. Yes, it was 3 in the morning, and it is difficult to quietly move a couch, but the only person in my building that had ever complained about me making noise was Psycho 5F, so I figured it would be alright since I hadn't heard from her in a while. Jess proven wrong yet again in 3...2...1...

As Boyfriend and I were jimmying the sofa out my door and into the hallway, I heard a door slam from somewhere in the building, followed by angry shuffling up the stairs. I look up just in time to see a pissed-off disheveled Psycho 5F sprinting up the stairs. She went on a tirade, screaming in the middle of the tile hallway-making far more noise than Boyfriend and I ever were. I apologized and explained the suspected dead mouse situation, but before I could even put the sofa down to try to reason with her, she went on and on about how noisy we were all the time and how we keep her awake every night and we are the worst neighbors ever. In my frustration and panic at being screamed at in the middle of the night, I started to lose my cool at her inability to be reasoned with, and got snarky. I told her to move into a nunnery if she wanted peace and quiet all the time. This kind of set her off even more. Psycho 5F started getting flustered and spouting out random shit that didn't make sense, and accusing me of things that could not have possibly been my fault, but then she hit my hot button. She insinuated that I was some spoiled little sorority girl brat living off of my parents' money. I all but threw the couch down (much to Boyfriend's dismay) and literally went toe-to-toe with this bitch and schooled her in some ass-chewing. I don't remember what I said to her but we screamed at each other in the hallway for a few minutes until she shuffled off in defeat of my superior wit and bitchiness. She did have to get the last word in, though. Her final "zinger" was, "This isn't Friends, you know!" I pshed her and I turned back to Boyfriend who had a look on his face that was a combination of disbelief, pride, and concern. I think that was his first glimpse of what a nasty bitch I was capable of being. But, life continued on.

Cut to 3 nights later:
Boyfriend came over again after we both got done with work and we watched O, Brother, Where Art Thou, an eventful movie, but not exactly Jurassic Park with surround sound, right? The next morning, I had to get up early to move my car for the street sweeper and what do I find on my door? A passive-aggressive note from guess who. All of the underlines and other punctuation are hers.


5/19/08
4 AM  (this is circled, mind  you)

Dear Neighbors,

Please keep the volume of your music down after midnight.  You woke me up again.  I have been trying to get back to sleep for two hours.  I realized there are "only two" of you and that's why I've had to listen to you moving in for the past six week or so, but there is only one of me to take care of everything I have to take care of so I really need my sleep!
When I moved in there was only one of me. Please try to be a bit more considerate.
Thank you, your downstairs neighbor.

This was what I was dealing with. I now understood that not only could this crazy not be reasoned with, she was completely unhinged. Never mind the fact that Boyfriend didn't live there, but I spent just as much time at his apartment as he did at mine, so I wasn't even home half the times this nutter was complaining about noise. I continued to attempt to be as quiet as possible and ignore her in the hopes that she would go away.

To make matters worse, two weeks later, I was fired from my job. Fired the day before my health benefits would have kicked in. Shady, no? So, in addition to desperately searching for work, dealing with the shitty Department of Labor, my unmedicated mental health issues, and constantly living in fear and guilt, I would get a nasty note on my door about once a week from the psycho bitch downstairs. Oh, and this was about that time when the country had plunged into that shitty recession we're still trying to recover from. Awesome.  What I needed most during this time was to be able to come home and feel safe. Psycho 5F made that very difficult to do. Her notes were getting more and more irrational to the point where I actually started to be concerned for my safety. I had no idea how unhinged she was, but I didn't want to find out. 

The final straw came for me late in the summer. I had to sell my car, and was able to find some temp office work a couple of times per week so I was barely eeking by. I had two ferrets at this point, and my oldest one, Gigit, was not doing well. The stress of everything and the heartache and fear for my dying baby made me snap. The final straw was an epic not from Psycho 5F blaming me for the fact that there were roaches in her apartment. Just a reminder: we lived in a 50+ year-old building in New York City. Roaches are kind of a thing here. She went on to all but accuse me of purposely placing my air-conditioner-unit above the window near where she eats her food and because of that, when she eats with her window open all the bugs come in and destroy her meals. (I so wish I was joking about this. I had this shit in writing, you guys.)  Clearly, I was out to get her with my loud TV and my air-conditioner. Because no one else in NYC has A/C units in their windows, or hardwood floors, or TVs.

Yup. No one like that round these parts. (Photo: Business Insider)

 But, I'd had enough. I was done with her. I threw a Hail Mary pass to end all the bullshit with Psycho 5F. I typed up a professionally worded letter complete with some legal jargon (to make it sound more intimidating) informing her that she was harassing me even though I have done nothing illegal or against any rules set forth my our landlord. Therefore I would be reporting to the police and filing harassment charges against her and move to file a restraining order on her were she to come in contact with me again. This was mostly a lie. I didn't want to waste a day of my life sitting at the local police precinct, nor did I want to go through all of the red tape to file a restraining order. But, amazingly, she didn't call my bluff. From that day forward I was rid of Psycho 5F. Sort of. She still did horribly passive-aggressive obnoxious things like complain about me to the Super and his wife, along with any other neighbor who would give her the time of day. Needless to say, I didn't have any friends in the building. She would also blast jazz music or Macy Gray as loud as her stereo could go at 7am. But, finally, she was the least of my stressors.  Sadly, my ferret, Gigit died not long after I realized that Psycho 5F was probably out of my hair for good. Gigit was old and very sick, but she died peacefully in my arms at home, wrapped in a blanket. She was my oldest ferret and such a lovely girl. I will forever miss her.

How could you not love such beautiful baby?

But, as all things, this too is now past. I still miss my furbabies every day, but I escaped that stupid apartment with the crazy neighbor, and Boyfriend and I moved in together. And that is whole other adventure altogether. Like, our couch, for instance...

To Be Continued...

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Movie Review (Updated)

Martin Freeman. Swoon.

I just got home from seeing The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey in the intended high frame rate IMAX 3D. In just Googling the movie title a plethora of reviews ranging from "meh" to "epic fail" pop up. I have not read any of the reviews yet so as not to taint my own opinions or enjoyment out of the movie, but I just wanted to see what was out there.  The movie is most definitely epic. Epically long. With 169 minute running time in addition to the 30 minutes of previews and the 9 minute teaser for the new Star Trek (which is awesome btw) I was sitting on my booty for quite a long while today. But it's not like that was new. Boyfriend and I "pre-gamed" this week by watching the LOTR trilogy extended edition. So, we've spent 832 minutes viewing Peter Jackson's masterpieces this week. Yes!

Having read the book about 10 years ago and having seen the 1977 Rankin/Bass animated movie dozens of times as a child, plus all of the extra nerdy stuff boyfriend knows about the world of Middle Earth, I felt like I was familiar with The Hobbit.  Either my mind is going in my old age, or Peter Jackson et al delved into even more detail than some may deem necessary and produced an epic tale of friendship and adventure. I like to think it's the latter. An Unexpected Journey goes into far more detail and history than I ever thought it would. To the casual viewer this probably seems tedious and excessive, or even a bit greedy to squeeze every ounce of detail out of it to stretch it into 3 movies so that the studio can make more money. While I was expecting to really enjoy the movie today, I did think a Hobbit trilogy seemed like a bit much; I would have been satisfied with 2 movies. But after mulling it over in my brain and enjoying the crap out of this movie, I'm satisfied and think that a Hobbit trilogy is in the capable and safe hands of Peter Jackson.

Everyone in the industry has been curious about the high frame rate in which the movie was filmed in. Again, Googling this leads to a slew of criticism about the HFR in which The Hobbit was filmed. There are reports/rumors of people getting nauseous and throwing up, etc. I have mixed feelings about the HFR. Normally I am not a fan of watching movies in 3D, I tend to get a headache or my eyes start to sting about 45 minutes into the movie. However, The 3D did not bother me today. It's very subtle and artistically done. The 3D adds an element of depth and texture to the film that I think is charming and fun-exactly what you want to feel with this story. I think Peter Jackson used the 3D element in a wonderful way. There were times when the action was slightly off center of the frame and you would be focused on that and then suddenly a bat or a bird or a piece of debris would fly past in the foreground and it was amazing, it was like watching what was happening to through a window.  The HFR only added to this...most of the time. Because our eyes are not used to viewing movies at such a high quality in "real time" it's very difficult to get used to seeing. It took me about 30 minutes to adjust to the picture quality. I've heard some people complaining that it looks "too real" and I don't understand how that's possible. For me, the first half hour looked funny because the HFR almost made it feel like everything was moving too quickly. It appeared as though someone accidentally hit the fast-forward button and everything moved just a hair too fast to feel natural. However, once my eyes adjusted, it was quite beautiful.  This leads to why I am torn about the HFR. It's awesome on Mythbusters and for action movies when they slow things down and you can see details, but when you're watching an action sequence at 48 frames per second and it never slows down at all, it's overwhelming. This is my one complaint about The Hobbit; for the slow sweeping shots, or close-ups of people talking, or the wide shots of scenery, the high frame rate makes a gorgeous movie, but in the scenes with battles or quick cuts and lots of action and large movement the additional frames can make you feel a little uncomfortable in the tummy. Going into the movie I snorted at the rumors of people throwing up watching this movie, but for the first half hour, I could understand how someone of a lesser constitution than I might feel queezy or ill. My opinion of the 48 FPS is it looks gorgeous and amazing, but I was painfully aware of it throughout the movie and thus, it took me out of the universe I was trying to be immersed in and, in turn, drew me out of the experience. I can't stress enough how great it looks, but it is just not my cup of tea. I expected to love this movie going into it. I think I did, but the high frame rate was quite distracting, so I can't tell how much I liked it.  I plan to see the movie again in the regular 24 FPS for comparison. I'm confident it will be just as beautiful and I will enjoy it even more.

All technology aside, overall the movie was enjoyable and entertaining. Ian Holm and Elijah Wood make a short and sweet cameo which I thought was delightful. This is not a spoiler because it's on the IMDB page and it's in the first 30 minutes. Please don't send me hate mail. Ian McKellen is still a wonderful Gandalf, as expected. I love Martin Freeman. He is the perfect Bilbo. I was pleasantly surprised that all of the dwarves, while looking and behaving as dwarves ought, are all different enough in character and costume detail that they do not overwhelm you, like too many Gimlis. I couldn't handle 3 hours with 13 versions of Gimli. I don't love Gimli; in all honesty, he's my least favorite character in LOTR. Please don't send me hate mail.

So, to sum up:
-HFR IMAX 3D is beautiful but can get overwhelming during the action sequences. I suggest not seeing the movie after a large meal.
-Peter Jackson has created more depth and brought to life so much, I really like to think Tolkien would approve.
-I love Martin Freeman.
-Please don't send me hate mail.

On my patented scale, I give Peter Jackson's The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey 4.5 out of 5 Hobbit feet. (Or in this case, I guess 9 out of 10 since the feet are in pairs...eh- 6 of one half a dozen of the other...)

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Also, I saw The Hobbit with my buddies Vash and Justin who do a review show on YouTube. Check out their stuff, it's funny. Please don't send Vash hate mail either.

Cupcakes and Wine Fix Everything and Anne Wheaton is Awesome

So, no Memory Lane Monday this week. Sorry guys. I'm working on a doozy of a story and it's just not ready.  I promise it'll be up next week. Just in time for Christmas! You're welcome. Today I will veer towards some inner demons that plague me. You know, just to change things up.

For the first time since college, I went out on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights this past weekend. I'm exhausted. Friday night an old friend of Boyfriend had a birthday party. She's a pretty successful director in TV and every year she throws a huge birthday party with an auction to benefit cancer research. She's a lovely person and I like her a lot, but I spent all day working outside in 40 degree rainy ickiness and I really didn't feel like going. Boyfriend complained that I never go out with him, and I felt like a shitty girlfriend so I caved and went with him. The second we stepped into the party space, I immediately regretted this decision. The event space was in a fancy sort of Hipstery restaurant near the Chelsea Market ie: expensive. It was wall-to-wall people. Television people. Socialite people. Not my people. I could not have felt more out of place had I been completely naked. Actually, being naked probably would have been better, then it would have been a conversation starter.

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The first 20 minutes or so that we were there, I was trying super hard not to completely break down. I could feel he anxiety attacks sitting at the ready, waiting to pounce on me and my psyche. It was so hot and filled with so many people on top of the normal daily stress I've been going through worrying about money and the like, I am amazed that I didn't pass out. Luckily, there was a lounge couch thing in the corner to sit down on and I started feeling a little better until Boyfriend pointed over my shoulder and said, "That guy. He's famous, right?" I turned and saw Richard Kind standing not 5 feet from me and I kind of started flipping out. He may not be super duper famous, but he has a damn successful career in comedy and voice-over and I am a fan. I started having even more trouble breathing and my heart felt like it was skipping all over my chest: a sure sign that an anxiety attack was to follow shortly. My little career started flashing before my own eyes. It didn't take long. Then for some reason my career goals all crashed and burned in my head. I don't know why. My brain is a crazy place.

I desperately rummaged in my bag for my anti-anxiety meds to no avail. I had forgotten them. That's really when the panic set in. Normally I would have just had a beer and probably been ok, but I was not about to ask Boyfriend to pay $8 so I could drink a shitty Bud Light. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on breathing. Finally, one of our friends showed up with his work buddy in tow. Our friend was very inebriated and started running his mouth about silly things as he usually does when he's been drinking and that at least got me to focus on other things. Also, in his drunky state, he bought me 2 glasses of prosecco. Delicious. I found out his work buddy used to be an actor, so we chatted for a while and he was very very nice, so I felt much better and not quite so overwhelmed. I was also venting on Twitter throughout the evening, so that helped.

The birthday girl eventually cut her giant cake and Richard Kind acted as auctioneer for all of the really awesome stuff that was donated, and Boyfriend got me some Magnolia Bakery cupcakes from the dessert table. I sat watching the party from my seat on the couch in the corner. It was less overwhelming. With a full belly and some bubbly in me, I started to relax and have a little fun. Then Anne Wheaton tweeted at me and all was right with the world. Here is my account of the evening via Twitter and Chirpstory:


I really can't explain this social anxiety I seem to have. To people who don't have anxiety disorders, it makes zero sense. I know this, because I can't even explain it and it's happening inside my own brain. I feel light-headed just rehashing all of this even though I'm sitting in the security of my apartment next to my Christmas tree, all cozy and toasty with a cup of coffee. 
Ok, I need to go play video games now. Yes, that's correct, I NEED to. Next time I think I'll discuss another issue of mine: my addiction to a certain video game. It's bad you guys. It's bad. Don't judge me.

All the Feels: Pretending You're Good At It and Other Confidence-Boosting

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Last night Boyfriend and I stumbled upon a live video chat session on Geek and Sundry's YouTube Page. I've never watched The Story Board before and I'm kicking myself because last night's was awesome! Patrick Rothfuss hosted a discussion about memoir writing and blogging featuring Jenny Lawson, Wil Wheaton, and John Scalzi. I love Jenny and Wil, and am familiar with Scalzi but was not as familiar with Patrick Rothfuss. After their poignant and hilariously inappropriate 3+ hour discussion last night, I feel better about myself as a writer and I am even more in love with these people. If you are serious about writing or maintaining a successful blog, I highly recommend watching the video. It is a long one, but I found it very interesting.

I've been a little absent from my usual blog consistency of late and to all 2 of you who probably read it regularly and enjoy my words, I'm sorry. I was gone the week of Thanksgiving and have been slightly busy since then, but I really have no excuses for not writing. The person that kept me from writing was me. As much as I loathed my full-time job with every fiber of my being, I have felt kind of like shit ever since I lost it. As much as I hated my job, and said I wish I didn't have to work there anymore, it sucks ass to be let go. Especially right before the holidays. I'm scared. I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't. A dirty rotten liar. My job was consistent. It was a miserable corporate environment where I was a verbal punching bag and chained to a desk for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week for crap-all pay. But, it provided a sense of security. I had a consistent paycheck and health insurance (that I could barely afford but it meant I could get the health care I needed desperately) and now everything is unknown and it's scary. I'm afraid I won't be able to afford my share of the rent or food and that will drive a rift between me and Boyfriend and it will ruin our relationship. I'm afraid I will no longer be able to afford going to therapy and my mental state will decline again. I'm afraid I will go insane. I'm afraid I'll never make it as an actor, a voice actor, or as a writer. And before you know it, in 3 short weeks self-doubt and borderline depression have made a cozy home inside my brain.

Unfortunately, that fear is seeping into the other aspects of my life including my writing/blogging. The fear and uncertainty and self-doubt morphed into a fear of failure which turns into a nasty voice inside my head that says, "You're not good enough, so bother even trying?"  

Now, I say all of this not to throw myself a pity party, but to say that the episode of The Story Board could not have been stumbled upon at a better time. It lifted my spirits and sort of rekindled that little flame of wanting to write and succeed again. It helped me ignore that voice deep inside that points and laughs at me and repeats all of my failings in my ear. I can't recommend that video enough if you are struggling. Knowing that people I look up to struggle with the very same things that I do, sometimes on a much larger scale than my own struggles, and they still succeeded gives me hope.  It also made me thankful that I do blog. I have a written account of not only my struggles and mini failures, but I have a record of my success and my awesome experiences. It w=makes me want to continue on. Keep keeping on. 

So, while I'm a little off-kilter at the moment, I will be better soon, I can feel it. I can't let the fear overpower me like it did once. I am stronger now. I am better now.

Thanks Wil and Jenny. You have given me more strength and hope than you know.

Memory Lane Monday: And Then Gotham Stormed Gotham. Sort of...

There are few groups of people I know of who love Halloween more than children. The two groups I'm thinking of are actors and nerds. I happen to belong to both groups. Actors love slipping on a different skin and becoming someone else for a short period of time; it's why we act. Nerds love becoming a character we admire, look up to, or want to emulate because we are so passionate in our love for said character, and sometimes we do it as an escape/coping mechanism because being a nerd is tough sometimes. But there is nothing more fun than a giant group of people coming together for a single nerdy cause/idea and making it awesome. That's what we did on Halloween this year.

My buddy, Vash is a big comic book geek and a pretty kick-ass seamstress. He has a passion for making costumes.  He's never had any formal teaching, he can just look at a picture of something and say, "I can make that" and then he does. It's impressive. 

 Every year, Vash chooses to make a group of costumes all along the same theme (Avengers, X-Men, etc) and then he gets a bunch of his friends together and they all go to Time Square on Halloween and rock out some awesomness. This year the theme was the DC universe. Villians and heroes all in classic comic-book garb were going to storm Gotham. Then a little storm blew in and shut down the city and put a little damper on our plans.

We did it anyway. We didn't go to Times Square since the subways were shut down and even if we could get into Manhattan from Queens, no one would be there to care. No matter! WE walked to a bar and had a blast there instead. All 25 of us. Yes. 25. Vash made over 25 costumes and they all looked awesome.

Group photo taken by someone who doesn't understand the concept of zoom.

I was Catwoman, Boyfriend was The Riddler, and Vash was Batman, of course. Sandy may have literally rained on our parade, but we still had a fantastic time anyway. Take THAT Sandy.

I had to explain to some creepy Portuguese guys who I was dressed up as AFTER they asked to take a picture with me. Creepos.

Riddle me this...

And then the villains met with Mitt Romney

 Halloween is the best.