Zulu Dawn: A Bittersweet Ending to the A-Z Challenge

Zulu Dawn was a 1979 film dramatization of the Battle of Isandlwana.  What was the Battle of Isandlwana?  No idea.  Wiki it.  My British history is rusty.  I've actually never heard of this movie, yet alone seen it.  I only bring it up because this movie features a wonderful actor who the world was forced to bid farewell to yesterday.  Bob Hoskins died from pneumonia yesterday.  He was 71.

To the Brits, he was a delightful and talented gentleman who rose to international acclaim from an accidental start in show business.  American audiences of a certain age probably know him best for his roles in Steven Spielberg's Hook, Robert Zemeckis' Who Framed Roger Rabbit, or maybe the shit-show less than popular Super Mario Bros. live-action film.

Regardless, Mr. Hoskins was beloved by many and I was so sad when I learned of his passing.  I was at work when I overheard my manager say "That guy from Roger Rabbit died" and I almost cried.  That sadness quickly turned to irritation and rage when I screamed "Bob Hoskins died?!?!" and my manager looked at me like I had grown an extra head because 1) I knew his name, and 2) I was so upset I almost cried. 

Rest in Peace, Bob Hoskins, I loved your career.  
Thank you for helping make my childhood magical.

YENSID

Source

Yensid is the name of the sorcerer in The Sorcerer's Apprentice cartoon from Disney's Fantasia. (But you knew that already, right?)  It is also D-I-S-N-E-Y spelled backwards. And Disneyland is where I spent my birthday evening on Friday.  It's official, I'm 30.  I don't really feel 30.  I don't really feel any age, I just am. I'm a real live adult now right? It doesn't matter, Disneyland is the best place to have a birthday, hands down. I went and got my official Disneyland birthday button, they wrote my name on it and I wore that bad boy proudly, basking in the showering of birthday wishes from cast members and other guests as I skipped down Main Street like an 8-year-old. I win.

Turning 30...you're doing it right.

BIRTHDAAAAAAAAAY!!!

Talkin' Toons

This post can also be titled "Stupid tired." Boyfriend took me to see Talkin' Toons Live last night and it was a blast. We got there super early and were going to meet up with an old NY friend of ours who was in town.  While we were waiting out front for our friend, Rob Paulsen just sauntered on by us. We said hi and shook his hand and he gave me a wink and went to go have a pre-show snack. That man knows how to work a room, lemme tell ya.


Rob's guests last night were April Winchell and Pam Adlon. And he wasn't kidding when he said that those two make the parental advisory flags fly. I won't spoil anything for anyone who wants to listen to the podcast (I think it drops on iTunes on Friday) but it was hella funny. April talked about the beloved Regretsy (R.I.P) and they all told some hilarious stories about working on Disney shows.

I plan on listening to the podcast not only to relive the fun, but also to see if my obnoxious semi-boozed up laugh (that's a 2-drink-minimum for you) can be heard on the recording.  Not only was the show fun, funny, and inspiring (to an aspiring VO actor such as myself) I also got to be in the same room as some voice over royalty last night! Billy West, Kevin Michael Richardson, and Fred Tatasciore were all sitting in the audience among others.

After the show, Boyfriend and I both got a big hug from Rob and then he schmoozed with the rest of his adoring public and we went home. Nothing can live up to the first time I met Rob, but Talkin' Toons Live was great fun. If I were made of money, I'd go every week. Sadly, I am not.

On my actual birthday, Boyfriend and I are going to conclude the week of birthday awesome by going to Disneyland. Because we can.

Super Excited!

Boyfriend is taking me out for an early birthday present tonight. We're going to see Rob Paulsen's Talkin' Toons Podcast live at the Hollywood Improv tonight!!! And you guys know how I feel about Rob Paulsen...

So this is a stupidly short, not-real post because I'm SUPER EXCITED!!!

Remembering

It's Monday and the letter of the day is R, so I'm going to do a two-fer: A-Z Challenge meets Memory Lane Monday. That's called multi-tasking. You're welcome.

Thirty years ago, Romancing the Stone was in theaters, Footloose dethroned Thriller from its 37-week reign as the #1 album, Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now) by Phil Collins was the #1 single, Atari announced the Atari 7800, and my very pregnant mommy awaited the birth of her first child. (Hint:  It was me.)

Ha ha look at the raisin...oh wait, it's me

I wanted to write something really profound about turning 30, but I've been staring at my screen for an hour and profundity just ain't happening tonight folks. Instead, I leave you with this:

 

Leeloo the Magnificent or How I Met My Dog

I've written a little bit about my dog, Leeloo on my "about me" page, but I don't think I've gone into detail about how much I love her. She's amazing, and part of me hates that we waited so long to get a dog, but the other part knows that if we hadn't been looking for a dog at the exact time we started looking for a dog, then she would not be ours. So here is the story (as we know it) of Leeloo the Magnificent.

In college, I went through a lot of mental health stuff. I wasn't being properly treated etc etc etc. Long story short, I couldn't have a dog so I bought a ferret, and another one...and another one.  They became my life. I loved them and having pets was very emotionally healing for me. Unfortunately, ferrets have rather short life spans (only an average of 7 years) and sadly, none of mine lasted even that long. Boomer got cancer and had to be put to sleep at age 3. Gigit started having some spleen/pancreas problems after age 6 and died peacefully at home. Dusty also developed some internal problems and I think his pancreas or spleen may have ruptured one night and he too died in my arms...
on my birthday. 

Worst. Birthday. Ever.

My furbabies

Since my ferrets died, I wanted a dog so so badly. Boyfriend wanted one too, but I'm pretty sure I drove him crazy with how badly I wanted one. Every time I saw a picture of a dog on the internet, or a dog on TV or on the street, I would mention (and by "mention I mean, whine) that I wanted a puppy.  This went on for 2 years.

Then, last spring, a friend of ours who works with the NYC ASPCA posted a video on Facebook of a really sweet pitbull who needed a home. He didn't look that big in the video, so we contacted the organization about putting in an application to meet their dogs.  We eventually set up an appointment to meet him.  We were not prepared for what greeted us. He was a super sweet super affectionate huge dog. Huge. And he was going to get bigger once he got on a more steady diet. Also, we saw how big his poop was when we took him out for a walk and we were...surprised, to say the least.  We decided he was just too big and unruly for us and our apartment.

Weeks passed and we kept in touch with our contact, Barbara about meeting other dogs. Finally, we went to meet a yorkie mix named "Una" who had the saddest intake picture ever.

SADDEST. DOG. EVER.

But, when we finally went to go meet "Una" she looked a little bit more like this:

First trip to the park

She was very shy when left alone in the meeting room with us. She just sort of sat politely in between me and Boyfriend and just sort of looked at us and then whined and whimpered when she heard Barbara's voice in the hallway. We liked "Una" and decided we would foster her with intent to adopt. Normally with the foster-with-intent process, if you keep a dog for less than 2 weeks, you can return them to the shelter if it just doesn't work out. Sort of like a trial run.  But after 3 days, Leeloo ("Una") was our dog. 

The morning she was scheduled to be dropped off at our apartment, I was complete wreck.  I was excited but anxious as hell. What if we'd made a huge mistake? What if we weren't ready for a dog? What if our lives are chaos forever? What if she hates us? What if we have to give her back? Etc...etc...etc.  Welcome to my crazy brain. 

Leeloo had been picked up by Animal Control in a parking lot in the Bronx in late April. She was dirty, matted, underweight, without any identification, and extremely skittish but gentle.  By the time she came to live with us in June, she'd been groomed, better fed, and gone through some simple obedience training.

 When Barbara finally dropped off our new doggy, I almost passed out when we walked outside to meet her. I was dizzy and almost started to cry because of all the emotions.  But as soon as Barbara handed a squirming Leeloo to me, I knew everything was going to be better.  We signed the papers right there on the curb and took Leeloo into her new home.  She came with a travel bag for riding on the subway/in the car, a collar, a leash, and a rawhide stick.  I still had a couple of bowls, clean beds, blankies, and toys left over from the ferrets that Leeloo inherited to start off in her new home.  

Today, Leeloo is a happy, active, less skittish California girl. She sits outside on a towel every day to soak up the sun.  She loves the dog park, playing tug-o-war, and staring out the window. She is magnificent and we love her.  I'm looking into possibly training her as a therapy dog for children since she loves little kids, or possibly training her to be an actor dog in commercials and stuff.  Even if we never succeed in any of these doggy dreams, I still love her more each and every day. 

How can you not love this dog?

 

Effable

Effable is the ability to describe something with words. So let me describe to you why I fell off the A-Z wagon so soon.  I explained that the D post was delayed simply because I needed some mulling-over time before I published that one. But, I habe no excuse for E, and F other than I got busy. That pesky life, it does get in the way, doesn't it?
Friday after a really busy day at work, I had just enough time to come home and shower before going out to a friend's birthday party. We went to this pretty cool bar in Korea Town called Lock & Key. I'd nevber been to K-town and nor do I plan to go back at night by myself since it's kinda sketchy, but the bar was pretty cool. After the bouncer checks your ID, he lets you into a dark room with hundreds of door knobs covering the walls wishes you luck. That's right, you have to find whihc door knob leads to an actual door that goes into the bar.  It's pretty cool.  So needles to say, coming home buzzed and exhausted was no time to write a blog.

Saturday was International TableTop Day!!! So Boyfriend and I made the trek into Hollywood to go to Meltdown Comics for their tabe top event. But it was cancelled. Because. So I bought the greatest T-Shirt ever, and then we ran a bunch of very-necessary-but-we'd-been-puting-them-off-forever-so-we-really-should-do-them-now-since-we're-already-out-and-about errands.

BEST. T-SHIRT. EVER.

Then we decided to have our own TableTop Day event with our friends and we played Clue: The Great Museum Caper, a game I hadn't played in about 15 years. It was just as fun as I remembered it! Then we went home and went to bed.

Sunday we took Leeloo to the park because she loves the park. We packed a small picnic and listened to our baby whimper and wine with excitement all the way up the winding hills to Lake Hollywood Park. Leeloo really likes being around other dogs and will run and play for a while, but she mostly just likes to sit on the picnic blanket and just wtach everything that goes on. She's kind of like me in that respect.  I like to feel included or asked to join the party, but I always feel more comfortable just observing everything. I guess people really are like their pets...

Look at that happy dog!

After we got home I made it my mission to do all of Leeloo's laundry (she has a lot, actually) because apparently it's flea season and supposedly our neighbor (who happens to be a dog groomer) said Leeloo might have a flea or two. In between tips down to the laundry room, Boyfriend and I caught up with another NY transplant friend of ours who we hadn't seen in forever. Then, after everything, it was time for dinner and catching up on @Midnight and then I had to go to bed.

Whew. No wonder I felt like I barely had a weekend!

So there: Effable. I explained things. With words.

Decimation of Dreams

Plenty of so-called linguistic purists claim that most people use the word decimate incorrectly. Most people know the word to mean "destroying a large percentage of" something, while the purists claim that it actually means to "destroy or kill exactly one tenth of" something/a group of people. There is actually much debate over the oldest or "truest" meaning of the word.



Today I can't decide if I'm referring to the "killing 1/10 of" meaning of the the word or the "absolutely obliterated" definition. One of my dreams has been killed. Now that I've had a couple of days to reflect upon this loss, I'm trying to move past the rejection and focus on move forward. All the little rejections I've experienced since moving here keep piling up and I continue to be filled with doubt regarding almost every decision I've ever made and continue to not feel like I belong anywhere. I know rejection is just a part of the entertainment industry. I knew it when I got my first rejection at age 12 after auditioning for the school play, and yet I keep jumping back in like a crazy person for 18 years, expecting the rejection to hurt less. It doesn't.

Alright, enough mystery. Remember when I got to audition for something that I (and everyone who knew me) knew I was perfect for? It was an audition for a little YouTube channel called SourceFed (maybe you've heard of it.) Well, I suspected for most of the time since that audition that I did not actually get cast, since as the days ticked by, I failed to hear anything from them/on the channel. But until I got an answer one way or the other, I stilled held out a sliver of hope. Or at least I thought it was just a sliver. SourceFedNerd officially introduced their new female host this last week. Guess what? It wasn't me.

I was already having a bad day at work when I found out. I was on my lunch break and pissed off about various bullshity things and thought watching some YouTube on my phone would make me feel better. It did not. Already in a fairly high-strung state, after it dawned on me that not only was this little dream of working on SF dead, but that I had met the girl who got the job at my audition day. As soon as I met her, I knew she was going to give me a run for my money. She just "looked" right. The bright side of this situation is that she is a completely different type than I am. Had they cast another tall blonde girl with glasses, I probably would have jumped out a window.  
But at the time I found out it wasn't me, all rationale kind of just flushed out of my body. And I cried. I put my head down on the conference room table and cried. 
The ugly cry, you guys. 
It was a bad day. 

I knew I needed a couple of days reflection before trying to write about this because the sting is still a little bit there. Otherwise had I wrote what I was actually feeling right after, you all probably would have put me on suicide watch. I think the worst part about that day was I had to take the bus home from work and Boyfriend didn't get home until late so I didn't have him home to hug me. Also, we were out of beer.  It was truly a horrific day.

Well, this post has gone on long enough. My dreams are still alive, they just get tweaked more often than I generally prefer. It's the life I've chosen for myself, I suppose. I have other blogs I read that help me keep some perspective and boost my morale. I have Boyfriend. I have Leeloo. I'm ok. Dream on you crazy dreamers!


"Having a dream isn't stupid, Norm. It's not having a dream that's stupid."
                                                                                      -Cliff Clavin, Cheers


"So dare to dream. Dream your wildest dreams. You can climb the highest mountain. You can drown in a teacup, if you find a big enough teacup. And if somebody tells you that you can't do something, you say, 'Yes, I can. 'Cause I'm doing it right now!'"
                                                                                       -Barry, Dinner For Schmucks 

Con Envy

Does anyone else suffer from this?  Convention envy.  I haz it.  Spring through autumn seems to be convention season.  Last weekend was Emerald City Comicon.  MegaCon & Pax East are next weekend, and San Diego Comic Con (the big papa) is just around the corner. 
And I don't get to go!!! *Weeps furiously in the corner


I should have seen it as a bad omen when PAX East tix went on sale the day Boyfriend and I were driving through Utah, thus we had absolutely no way of knowing they went on sale, yet alone any way of purchasing them. So Saturday tix and 3-Day passes were gone before we even unpacked our car in California. BUt Boyfriend was determined to still make our annual pilgrimage to Boston with our friends.  He bought us what tickets he could still get and vowed we would go.

Unfortunately, things have not panned out here as we hoped, economically speaking which has not helped me climb out of my downward emotional spiral of suck (more on that tomorrow...aren't you excited?!) Boyfriend can't afford to fly us both to Boston for the weekend, and I can't afford to take any time off of what little work I can get, so...
me no go to PAX. 

Source

I feel like I'm losing my nerd cred. Stupid money and needing it to buy things like food and shelter.  But, I'm trying really hard to look on the bright side. Boyfriend is going to get to go to PAX East (he has never missed one) and see our friends. So I'm happy that he's happy.  He was able to sell my passes and make his money back. We won't have to worry about what to do with Leeloo over the weekend since I'll be home.  I'll get a quiet weekend to myself with my video games and my doggy.  I'll just have to avoid all things internet so that I don't fall into a weeping nerd depression every time there's a new tweet about all the cool stuff I'm missing.  Also, speaking of depression, since I won't be there, I won't have to deal with the Post PAX Blues.  Hooray?

Still...Con Envy. It's a thing.

Boooo! (Warning: Thar Be HIMYM Spoilers Dead Ahead)

For the past nine years there has been this little show on CBS called How I Met Your Mother, maybe you've heard of it. This week marked the ending of that show, and the internet reacted...well...exactly as you would expect the internet to react to the final episode of something so ingrained in pop culture for nearly a decade.   The Twitterverse and Facebookesphere feeds of the world erupted Monday night with fury, saddness, bittersweetness...but mostly fury from the looks of it.  

Now I won't rehash old news because anything I say at this point will just be redundant. But I will say that this is how the series finale made me feel:

I wish CBS had let the writers end the show at season 8 when they were prepared to instead of wasting this entire season making us emotionally invest in Robin and Barney's wedding only to make them divorce 10 fucking minutes into the series finale. It all felt like a waste of my time and emotions. I'm glad the writers got the opportunity to keep the ending they originally wanted when they started the show, because that is so rare these days especially in TV, but...but...seriously?!

I may just go on pretending that seasons 5-9 never happened. While I will think of the show fondly, and consider watching the first few season again, the final season and ending to the series will always be a

 

A is for April: It's back!

Once again, I am stepping up to the A-Z Blogging Challenge while at the same time demonstrating my amazing ability to bite off more than I can chew! Ta Da!!!
I'm starting off with the oh-so original title of "A is for April," because...well, duh. It's April. April is also my birthday month as I'm sure I've mentioned before. A is also the first letter of the word adjustment, and anxiety, and boy howdy am I experiencing just that these days.


To say that I've had trouble adjusting to life in California, would be an understatement. It was the biggest move I ever made in my life. I know I've said all of this before, but I'm probably going to continue talking about it (hopefully less and less as time goes on) until I finally feel "at home" here.  Thankfully, I have noticed that my anxiety has gone through some positive adjustments here. I find more and more that when I am anxious I can pinpoint a source or a cause or a "thing" I am anxious about, unlike while living in NY my anxiety seemed to have a life of its own. I look back and can see that my anxiety in NY was dancing on the fine line between general anxiety and paranoia.  But here in California, I can tell myself that when I check that the door is locked for the 3rd time before bed, or ask Boyfriend where the dog is for the umpteenth time (she's in her bed) I can trace these anxious behaviors to anxiety we both feel about paying bills and the frustration of building our life from scratch in a brand new place. It's normal anxiety. It's not fun, but it's anxiety that makes sense.  Now, my social anxiety? Well that's a whole other story.  So, am I adjusting? Yes. Am I anxious? Fuck yes.  But am I the crumbling cracked-up mess of a person barely being held together by old chewing gum and left over packaging tape that I was 5 months ago?  Only sometimes.  

Hey, I'll take it.

Also, Leeloo is totes a California girl now, so we can't move again.