I have a blog?!

Me (the actress) and Me (the writer) are in a big fight. BIG. 

It has been going on all week.

I'm anxious to get my foot in the door with the local theatre scene here in FL, so I've been trying to focus on auditions here in between my travels and adventures. Being the 'new kid' in any theatre community can be tough - and there is no equivalent to a Laura Durant in the sunshine state - so it requires some extra vigilance and networking on my part. Something that my writer-self has no patience for.

I'm working on four projects right now. A novel, two plays, and a musical adaptation. Yes, I'm an unfocused Pisces and I overwhelm myself with many creative ventures at once. That's just how I roll. Two of my written projects are collaborations, which takes some pressure off. And all of them have a different feel, energy, content, etc... So it lends itself well to my daily moods. Feeling cheeky? We work on the comedy or the musical. Feeling research-y? We work on the historical piece. Feeling evasive and calculating? We work on the novel. It's not the best system in the world, but it works.

Both worlds collided when I started writing up my business plan and starter materials for TMC, LLC.

I'm not very good at mixing art with business. I'm the person that people hire when they need a creative, passionate, driven, hungry artist. People do not hire me for my business sense. I can crunch numbers when I have to, but it kills my soul little decimal points at a time.

Anyhow, all this business mumbo-jumbo has resulted in writer's block. Oh, and I forgot I had a blog.

To summarize the past two months, I did 'Death of a Salesman' out at Arkansas Rep. It was a great show with amazing artists and I had a blast! Came back to FL and did FPTAs (with a couple of my gal pals who flew/drove out for 'em) then flew back to AZ for my baby girl's graduation and am now back in FL, debating auditions in Ft. Myers & St. Pete's this month, callbacks in Orlando next month, and a possible trip back to NY for auditions in mid-July. (The writer within is railing against all this actor-y nonsense, claiming that we have too much work to do.)

In the meantime, Hello blog! It's nice to see you again! Hopefully my pansy, fragile little writer ego will settle its ass down and pop over once in a while to say 'hi'.

It's not you, it's me.

The Equality Blog

In 1948, a speech was given by Alben Barkley quoting Thomas Jefferson,
"He did not proclaim that all the white, or the black, or the red, or the yellow men are equal; that all Christian or Jewish men are equal; that all Protestant and Catholic men are equal; that all rich and poor men are equal; that all good and bad men are equal. What he declared was that all men are equal; and the equality which he proclaimed was the equality in the right to enjoy the blessings of free government in which they may participate and to which they have given their support."

Truman said, "We believe that all men are entitled to equal opportunities for jobs, for homes, for good health and for education. We believe that all men should have a voice in their government and that government should protect, not usurp, the rights of the people."

Currently, the gay community is without rights. They are usurped. An entire community denied the right to marry by its own government. And I'm shocked that there is still debate among ourselves when the onus should be on our government to defend such a heinous miscarriage of both justice and liberty to its people.

We are good at labeling each other. We judge and categorize so that we can determine who should be included or excluded from our lives - based on compatibility, relation, "common interests".
Are you a believer? Do you have kids? Where'd you go to college? What was your major? Where DID you get those shoes?! Are you on Grindr? Facebook? Match.com? Alpha Beta Kappa Dappa Poopty Doo!

When I started my elementary education, I remember learning about two basic parties - Democrats and Republicans. (My daddy said we were the latter.)
Now there are liberals and conservatives and progressives and tea-bags and the Republic of the Flying Spaghetti Monster for cryin' out loud!
And I deal with it in my industry as well. Are you a triple-threat? No? Cut. Ages 35-45?  Yes? Stay. 5'5"-5'9". Stay. Caucasians can go. Women, stay. Divas, go.

In our efforts to specify which group we belong to and separate ourselves from those we don't, we've sub-categorized and factioned ourselves to death. We ostracize and denounce, validate and advocate until there's a very small subset that we can call 'my people'.
Sometimes merely based on 'beliefs'.

Some people believe that onions taste great. I believe they are the devil's fruit. I hate them. But I have enough common sense not to hate the person who believes they're awesome. In fact, I might spend a dozen years in an intimate relationship with an onion-loving freak!

I don't believe that onion lovers have the right to impose on my onion-free existence just because an archaic book of proverbs and parables says that onions are fantastic and clear out your arteries. And I'll fight like a she-devil if anyone tries to hold me down and forcibly put them in my mouth!
I feel just as vehemently about anyone else being forced to eat onions... Or being denied the right to.

Because I'm on team 'people'.

Not just my people or your people, but ALL people.
And the rights of the people must be protected, not usurped.

R. Kelly believes he can fly.
Whitney Houston believes in you and me.
And The Darkness believes in a thing called love.
I believe in equality.

And Team People.

And life without onions.

Thankful!!

I can't believe I haven't updated my blog in so long!!

I got settled into my new home in Florida... just in time to come back to AZ to work a 7-week contract. I extended my return ticket so that I could stay in town for Thanksgiving, but I go back to FL on Monday.

It was a whirlwind visit... and I didn't realize I'd be as busy as I was. I didn't get nearly enough time with family and my daughter is quite peeved as a result. But I'm thankful for every stolen moment I have with them and can't wait to have them out for a visit in December.

Two of my three brothers were there with their respective broods and it was nostalgic to have all the kids gathered at the 'kiddie table'... like we once were.

Carving the turkey with my mom, teasing my sister-in-law for braving Black Friday, bantering with GGma (who might possibly think I'm a lesbian), and generally enjoying what may be my last holiday in AZ for who knows how long...

I'm thankful to have a job that brought me back to AZ for this holiday. Thankful that my kids will both be out to visit in less than a month. Thankful that I have an adorable apartment just begging to be decorated for Christmas...

I'm excited for the prospects that are around the corner and though it's always hard to leave my ol' home, I'm thankful to be going to my new one.

2200 Miles Across the Sea... An Odyssey

It began on Monday morning... at about 6am...

Ann and I loaded up the rest of our belongings into my Jeep Cherokee, transported two cats into their traveling cage and set off for a 2200 mile journey across the country – towing everything I own in a 6x12 trailer.

We made it 20 minutes from Tucson when the gaff tape securing the front end of my Jeep came loose and began flapping in the wind. We pulled over to reaffix the tape when we heard a torrential downpour coming from the underside of the vehicle. Alas, it was raining coolant. Everywhere. The entire undercarriage was dripping with the green stuff. After a quick call to Jason and to my mechanic, I was reassured that I had merely overfilled the reservoir and as the Jeep heated up, would have to purge somewhere...

We drove into Tucson for our first fuel stop – no raining undercarriage – and decided that all was well.

We realized we had a problem about 20 minutes later... somewhere around mile marker 290. My temp guage started to spike and my RPMs were running really high on some of the smaller hills... and having seized an engine once before, I knew I wanted to get off the road before I did permanent damage.

We pulled over at mile marker 295, called AAA and waited for our tow. And since we were two girls traveling with two cats and stranded in the middle of the desert, we were put on 'priority' status – meaning someone would be there within 30 minutes.

An hour and ten minutes later, “Big Dave” arrived.

The first words out of Big Dave's mouth were, “Didn't anyone tell you you're overloaded?!!”

Umm.... no?

Big Dave proceeds to tell us that he can tell just by looking at how low the Jeep is sitting that she's hauling more than she can tow. I tell him that she sits that low with the trailer empty. He says he's not surprised and that if the guys installing my hitch didn't catch it, the guy who popped the trailer on the back of my Jeep should have.

Great.

So, he pulls the Jeep up on the back of his truck, hitches up the trailer and tows us (and the cats) to his garage in Benson, Arizona.

It's now crawling up on 11:30am Monday.

They run diagnostics on the Jeep and decide that she's fine... but there's no way she'll haul our load all the way to Florida. Time to improvise.

We call U-Haul and they offer to transfer our contract over to a 10-foot box truck with a tow dolly on the back for the Jeep. So, at 3pm in 112-degree heat, we transfer all of my belongings from the trailer into the box truck with nary an inch to spare. (With special thanks to our new friend, Matthew – a truck driver waiting for a repair at the same shop – who was enthralled by our cats and happy to have audience for his 'cwazy stowies'.) The cats have to give up their spacious crate for a single cat-carrier that will fit between the bucket seats in the cab of the truck, but it looks like we're all going to fit.

The mechanic disconnects my drive line and hooks the Jeep up to the tow dolly and we close down the shop at 5:30 after paying $350 for the tow, diagnostic, and drive line disconnect... and another $1900 for the new U-Haul contract. (I didn't actually get a receipt or contract for this new set-up and was told the $1900. was only for the tow dolly... this will be important information later.)

After a quick stop at Wendy's to pee and get situated, we were back on our way by 6:30pm. A 7-hour delay in Benson, Arizona was enough to take the wind out of my sails without the added $2000+ expense... but we were determined.

We drove until we hit Las Cruces, New Mexico.

We hit a rest stop around midnight that overlooked the city lights and caught a 4-hour nap. As the sun was beginning to light the horizon at 4:30am, we drove to meet it... dreading the day ahead of us.

My timeline gets fuzzy around this part because there was no change in landscape between Arizona and Texas, but we crossed the state line somewhere around 8 or 9 in the morning (Texas time?). I knew going in that this would be the longest, most tedious stretch of the drive. And it was.

We crossed into Texas at the Mexico border and drove right into the Wild Wild West.

Federales, Border Patrol, Dogs... several miles of high fences and SUV's parked on their not-so-grassy knolls watching the south... we held our breath as they asked us to state our citizenship. I stammered... as it's not a typical question I get... and said “Here?” (Blank stares.) “OH! America!! I'm an American citizen!”

They waved us through while Ann was still rolling her eyes and giggling at me.

An entire day of Texas... Texas... nothing but Texas... Everything is NOT bigger in Texas. It's mostly the same size. Except their speed limits are slightly higher - which would have been cool had we not been in a 10-foot box truck towing a Jeep Cherokee and only capable of going about 60-65MPH. Even that speed had Ann screaming “SLOW DOWN” at regular intervals, so.. thanks for the thought, Texas.

Ann took a shift behind the wheel later in the day which had her going through Houston during rush hour traffic – an ordeal that required a stop afterward so we could both change our soiled underclothes.

The landscape changed very suddenly when we got into eastern Texas. The desert virtually disappears with a monolithic cityscape, which then dissolves into trees and rolling plains.

Now, Texas wasn't horrible... it's just a HUGE state and much of the drive is tedious (and contrary to common belief that the drive is straight and flat, it's got some frequent hills and valleys.) So, it only added to the general state of panic to discover that Wells Fargo had frozen my debit card (after having been used at only gas stations from south AZ to Texas) and the $2000+ from 'Big Dave's Towing and Auto' had maxed me to my limit on those funds. I had a four-hour stretch in Texas where I was genuinely and sincerely concerned that we were going to be stranded in the middle of the country without any gas money to get us to our destination. I was seriously sunk.

Until Jason saved the day from all the way back in AZ – after having sold some of the items I left back home, he went above and beyond to make sure I could have access to those funds (even cancelling his own birthday dinner to make it happen.) It worked out that funds became available mere minutes before we'd have to stop for gas.

We had some serious guardian angels hooking us up along the way.

And so we crossed into Louisiana territory sometime in the dead of night and began the harrowing experience of navigating the bayou.

I will add here that Louisiana was the ONE state we were both looking forward to seeing. Of course it was just our luck that we'd drive through in the dead of night.

As if that wasn't bad enough, I discovered (the hard way) that Louisiana has the worst roads ever. EVER. Two slender lanes of highway traffic were hugged on either side by cement barricades and the only other vehicles on the road were ginormous trucks captained by sleepy drivers. We were run off of the road by one such driver... who, in an attempt to pass us, never quite made it all the way over to the left lane and started drifting back almost immediately. I pulled over once he got within inches of my rearview mirror and we sat on the shoulder for a second – shaking and breathing and willing our heart rates to return to normal. We watched him bob and weave his way through about the next 60 miles before we lost him. Scariest moments of my life so far... driving in Louisiana at night. Not cool. Not cool at all.

There was a stretch of road between Louisiana and Mississippi that was particularly bumpy and I swore I saw two cars swerve out of the way behind me... we stopped to check that the back of the Jeep hadn't popped open and after satisfying our curiosity that nothing was amiss, we continued.

At the Mississippi state line (and after 26 hours straight since New Mexico) we hit a rest stop for another nap around 6am... this one lasted only about an hour. I woke up realizing we'd been boxed in on either side by huge semi trucks and were breathing in the most toxic fumes I've ever inhaled in my life (and I've inhaled a LOT of toxic fumes!) After a cowgirl shower in the rest stop bathroom, we continued on – ignoring the slight headache and the stench burned into my nostrils.

Mississippi and Alabama were a bit of a bleary-eyed blur – I saw my first water in the form of a bay entering Alabama and I cried. But as soon as we entered those states, we seemed to be on our way out of them.

We crossed the state line into Florida – elated – and got pulled over within about 5-10 minutes.

Why?

Apparently I missed the sign for the Agricultural Inspection Station. I thought it was just another weigh-station for the commercial trucks, but there's a little addendum that says “All Rental Vehicles” are required to stop. To skip it is a ticket, $180. fine and a Class II Misdemeanor on your license.

Oops.

After my “I didn't see it and I'm new here” speech, the cop had me unlock the back of the truck so he could peek and made me promise not to miss the next one. I had my speech all prepared when we drove up to the perplexed looking inspector.

“Coming from Phoenix to Sarasota. Two domestic cats, no fruits or vegetables, no live plants.”

We were waved through without a second glance.

Jacksonville teased me for hours. I saw a sign that said 279 miles to Jacksonville. After driving for at least an hour and a half, I saw another sign that said 282 miles to Jacksonville. I'm not kidding you. It's like being stuck in the Twilight Zone. The more you drive, the further away you get from your destination. I was cursing Jacksonville at regular intervals.

We finally arrived in Tampa and celebrated with more gas and some food before hitting the last hourlong stretch.

We arrived at our apartment somewhere around 10:30/11pm and I promptly had a breakdown in the parking lot of 'Barnacle Bills' (across from my complex) where we parked the U-Haul and the Jeep.

Part of my emotional collapse was having been through the ordeal of driving for three days (with a 7-hour delay and truck transfer in Benson, AZ) with the cats and all of the other minor setbacks. Part of it was the relief that we finally made it here. Part of it was arriving road-weary and emotionally spent and having no one on my destination end to hold me and tell me everything was going to be ok.

Yup. I'm still a needy little princess, aren't I?

But hey, I drove 2200 miles across the country under less than stellar circumstances and got all of my stuff here intact. Humans and animals included!

I mean, it's no huge accomplishment. People used to make that same journey in covered wagons and shit, so who am I to crow?

But man, do I feel like a beast!!!

We had another slight hiccup when we returned the truck to U-Haul only to discover that when they disconnected my drive line, they didn't secure my drive shaft properly. We believe it fell out somewhere on that bumpy road to love between Louisiana and Alabama – and that's why I saw cars swerve. It apparently bounced off of my gas tank and escaped the undercarriage without doing any major damage... but my first few days in Sarasota were spent tracking down a new drive shaft, a U-joint, and now a mechanic that can replace all the transmission fluid that was lost. Awesome!

All told, U-Haul made $2886. off of us this move (and we're fighting for credit back, since the first contract for the hitch and trailer only lasted two days before we had to change it up) and cost me an additonal $500 in repairs to the Jeep (which I've also claimed against their insurance). Not to mention the fact that we were supposed to get credit on the second contract and 'Big Dave' made it sound like we did, but paid through the nose for the dolly instead... not so much. Shady people, shady business.

Expensive? Yes.

Will I ever move with U-Haul again? Not in a million years.

Am I glad to be “home”?

Boy, you'd better believe it!!!

CYA, C-F-A, IMHO...

Marriage.
Marriage is what brings us together today. Love. True Love.
And ignorance.
And fear.
And intolerance.

I'm tired of the Chick-Fil-A argument and I've seen a good amount of political rhetoric from both sides, but no one is changing anyone's mind here.

My own family is divided over this issue - and we are a stalwart, passionate family - so the 'Chick-Fil-A' controversy is not one we've discussed very openly. (Though my daughter and I have had some fierce debates, we're on the same side with this one.)

So, here are my thoughts in a nutshell... or rather... fried in peanut oil to a delicious crisp.

1.) The 'First Amendment' issue.
The First Amendment protects free speech as it relates to government intervention. Our government can't (or rather, isn't supposed to) infringe on your right to speak your mind. It does NOT, however, protect you from criticism or offense from your peers. It doesn't protect you from accusations of slander or bigotry. It's not a blanket amendment that says you can spew vitriol from the rooftops without repercussion. The government will not interfere - but the closest 100 people who don't like what you have to say have the right to voice their opinions as well. And some may not do it in a civilized manner. You take the risk that they won't break the law and break your face in response.
And so, Mr. Cathy and his Chick Fellators have every right to say "We advocate traditional marriage and we support companies and organizations that advocate the same."
And everyone else has the right to say, "That's gay." ...or not.

So far, I have yet to see where anyone's First Amendment rights have been stripped away or compromised. Everyone is still talking. You don't have to like it. But you can say it. All the live-long day.
See how civilized it all really is?
Read up on the constitution people... and read it like you're reading copy from an audition for West Wing or LA Law by Shakespeare. Those words were chosen for a purpose. It's important to pay as much attention to what is said as what is not.

2.) The 'marriage' issue.
I've been married. Twice.
The first time... the marriage meant more to my family than it did to me. My grandparents begged me to marry my 'baby daddy' with more fervor than he did when he actually proposed. They didn't want to be the "great-grandparents of a bastard". No concern about what kind of relationship I might actually have with my on-again/off-again boyfriend - more important was to present a picture to the public that said we were a 'wholesome, traditional family'. Needless to say, that marriage was a sham... two kids playing house... and despite our best efforts to make it work, we divorced within 3 years.
This whole controversy starts to unravel when you consider the backbone of their conviction. Marriage is not a 'Christian' institution. Marriage was not designed by God. It was created by man. A 'traditional' marriage changes based on your geographic location. Americans have a much different idea of traditional marriage than what is commonplace in Israel, Asia, Europe, and tribal communities.
Marriage was initially created (we believe, because these unions predate recorded history in some cases) as a way to claim sexual exclusivity, protect lineage and bloodlines, and to determine the inheritance of possessions and land. Is that really what everyone is fighting to protect as God's 'sacred and holy' institution? I guess I don't get it.

I understand if conservative Christians want to balk at the idea of gay marriage and take a NIMB stance - hell, I can't get married in a Mormon Temple or a Catholic church without jumping through some hoops, so I get that... I don't list those places on my list of potential wedding venues. But the Mormon church isn't telling me that I can't get married on a cruise ship or in the Grand Ballroom of the Hilton because I don't follow their 'traditional' values. I've had no Jews deny my womanhood because I never went through a bat mizvah. So, I don't understand the mentality of any group or person saying to ANY individual "You can't do this thing I believe in 'cuz you do it differently."
To be an individual is the hardest thing in the world, because nobody likes you to be an individual. We like to make sheep of one another and relegate each other to our respective 'flocks'.

I think it's wonderful and glorious and romantic that there are people out there who aren't bitter and disillusioned like I am - people who still believe in finding that one true love for life and spend thousands of dollars celebrating their love and making it all public and forever-like. It's beautiful and I wouldn't dare deny that to anyone. ANYONE. You have your traditions. I have mine. Nothing says they have to be the same in order for me to respect and admire you. Period.

3.) The Dan Cathy issue. “We are very much supportive of the family — the biblical definition of the family unit. We are a family-owned business, a family-led business, and we are married to our first wives. We give God thanks for that.”
I'm glad Dan Cathy found what works for him. I think it's important to believe in something bigger and greater than ourselves. Whether it's religion or spirituality or community or whatever - he has every right to support the biblical family unit. He can support the Shakespearean family unit. He can support the Oedipal family unit. None of which comes without criticism from someone somewhere. I don't take issue with what Mr. Cathy does or doesn't believe in or support. I don't even take issue with the fact that he spends millions of dollars to support organizations that are dedicated to criminalizing homosexuality. I would feel the same way if I knew he was working towards criminalizing dancing. I'd still think he was an idiot of a businessman.

"We’re inviting God’s judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at him and say we know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage. And I pray God’s mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude that thinks we have the audacity to redefine what marriage is all about."

I don't think Mr. Cathy is aware of what constitutes a marriage. I'm not even talking about the archaic Leviticus talk of the Old Testament kind of marriage - I'm talking about what people have done for centuries. How is Dan Cathy not shaking his fist at God and saying he knows better than Him what constitutes a marriage? God did not define marriage as Dan Cathy does. Nowhere in the bible did he define it that way. Show me the scripture and I'll show you passages that directly contradict Mr. Cathy's lifestyle. It just doesn't work to say ANY of us know better and it's counter-intuitive to say anyone has the "audacity" to redefine something that has been constantly evolving and redefining itself with every culture and generation.

Having been raised in the church, I remember the push to evangelize and convert and recruit and become "fishers of men". It wasn't enough to believe... success as a Christian is directly related to your ability to "save" others. It's not a mutually-tolerant religion. Anyone who doesn't believe in my God the way I do is going to hell. Plain and simple. Black and white. If you love someone... save them from eternal damnation.


"Love with eyes knows when to say no, when to say yes. Love neither interferes in anybody's life nor allows anybody else to interfere into one's own life. Love gives individuality to others, but does not lose its own individuality." That's what I believe.


No matter how much we may be able to identify and strive towards our own happiness, there will always be someone else saying, "That's not the right way."

It will take time. It will take tears. It will take tenacity and grief and heartbreak. It will take a generation of children raised by two moms or two dads to affect the lobbyists and lawmakers, but it's happening. Slowly... gradually... the evolution of the 'nuclear family' has already overtaken yesteryear's traditions and rituals. I only hope the evolution of Christianity can keep up.

Let them pity and protest and "pray the gay away". Let them make ignorant statements and ridiculous investments. I know that a great majority of my friends and family were nowhere near Chick-Fil-A yesterday. Some, out of protest... some out of health... and some out of apathy.
For those that did go... Well... I guess I pity them.


I'm sad for them. I'm sad that they think their dollars are best spent supporting organizations devoted to stripping away the rights of others. I pray that their eyes and minds will be open to all of the places in those towns and communities that could have used those chicken dollars to better someone or something.
What if, instead of buying a $4 sammich, every Christian believing in family values donated that $4 to their local homeless shelter or food bank or orphanage or animal rescue? I don't know... maybe it's my whacked-out sense of tradition or values, but I would find that much more gratifying than putting money towards keeping marriage a private club for breeders. Plus, I think there might be a quicker and more visible result on a smaller scale; rather than my meagre drop-in-the-bucket of millions already invested by a business like CFA. I can say that I've never seen lines that long or a rally this big to feed or shelter the homeless in own communities. Which is something Jesus actually WOULD do...

So, do with it what you will... I have no problem boycotting places that support organizations and people I'm not fond of for one reason or another. I have no reservations about raising my voice - or my blog - to say that I think this argument is as ignorant and ridiculous as segregation was 50 years ago.

I think that sin and the bible create chasms between people where there need not be any.

I'll defend someone's right to marry as quickly as I'll defend their right to have a vegan diet - though I have no intentions of personally adopting either lifestyle choice any time soon.

I guess the long and short of it is that I think it's important to be educated. I think it's empowering to know where your food comes from and where your money goes - and I think it's imperative that we understand and believe that there is happiness for others along different paths than our own.

Respect man, love man. Respect his individuality, respect his differences. And that is possible only if you respect your own individuality. That is possible only if you are grounded in your own being and you are unafraid.

I was never that impressed with their waffle fries, so really... I feel no great personal loss.

Parting is such sweet sorrow...

I hate goodbyes.
HATE them.
And I don't mean the "Goodbye, 'cuz you're leaving the theatre and I won't see you 'til Tuesday" kind of goodbye. I mean when out-of-town actors return home or graduated students leave for college or friends and colleagues relocate permanently.

I will hide.
I will ditch.
I will send flowers and cards.
I'll text or Facebook.
I'll write a song and make a personal video.
But I loathe in-person goodbyes.
I get too attached to people too quickly and it becomes overwhelming. I either cry and babble and carry on like someone is dying a slow and painful death - or I shut down completely and then go home to bawl in the shower or eat my feelings in shameful solitude.

Opening Night Party = Awesome!
Closing Night Party = Torture!

It's 3am on Saturday morning and I can't sleep because my very own farewell party is tonight.

I have been purposely immersing myself in the logistics of moving - the paperwork for the new apartment, getting utilities scheduled, repairs on the Jeep, packing, donating, tossing, selling and packing some more... Anything and everything I can to live in blissful ignorance for just one more day.
But the truth is, I'm going to have to say goodbye.
Not for good. Hell, I'll be back in six weeks to do a show at ABT and will be here through Thanksgiving, so there's that.

But there's after that... and then after that, too...

And finally, in the solace of an empty bedroom - I give in to my denial.
I bitch and moan and gripe about my home state constantly. If you've known me long enough, you've heard me gripe about the weather, the politics, the landscape, the economy, the idiots... or all of the above.
But the truth is, there's a reason that I've lived here for all of my 36 years. There are many reasons.

Even if the weather was unbearable, the politics ridiculous and the economy in the toilet, the people... MY people made it worth living here. My family. My neighborhoods. My theatre community. The people I grew up watching... the people I grew up with...

YOU... reading this right now... are one of the reasons it is so hard for me to leave.

There are too many people to list in a blog post, and I suspect it would get boring... but I'm going to do some shout-outs via Facebook and perhaps an individual blog or two to help me get all the sappy out of my system.
Truth is, I hate goodbyes... and tonight I'll have no choice but to face them. Many of them.
Thank HEAVENS I'll be doing it mostly drunk! :)

It's bittersweet, but I'm at least excited for the chance to have so many of my friends in one place at one time. Plus it has been a good while since anyone threw a party for me.

Hmmm... maybe I should move more often.  In fact, maybe I should have a 'Farewell Pary - Part 2' when I close the ABT show!

Regardless, I'm ultimately grateful to have people in my life worth saying goodbye to - even if it does mean doing the ugly cry in front of them all.

My Planned Parenthood/Brewer Rant

Yesterday, I linked this article to my Facebook:
http://news.yahoo.com/abortion-battle-planned-parenthood-sues-arizona-003707537.html

It discusses the law passed by Jan Brewer to block funding to Planned Parenthood from the state. In response, Planned Parenthood is suing the state of Arizona (and five others that have followed suit by pulling or blocking funding.)

Here's my problem with this whole situation: Leatherface (and those that support this legislation) is basing this decision on moral grounds because Planned Parenthood offers abortion services. In fact, a whopping 3% of their clientele require abortions or abortion referrals. Three percent.

I have personal experience with Planned Parenthood. When I was active with my church group, there were regular protests and rallies against PP. This was in the late '80's when the ProLife movement was really gaining steam. My uneducated self only knew that PP was 'bad' and associated with the dark, seedy abortion clinics of my imagination. Evil lived there!

Fast Forward to my Senior year of High School... I had just turned 18 and a home pregnancy test confirmed that I was pregnant. Without knowing where to go or what to do, my boyfriend and I ditched school one afternoon to drive to the PP in Phoenix (where no one was likely to see or recognize me).
Once there, they ushered me into a room where they administered a pregnancy test (again, positive) and set about asking me a series of questions about my support system at home, my academic and work history, my economic and financial plans. After answering their survey, my boyfriend and two counselors joined me in a homey little conference room where we discussed my personal options. I knew abortion was not a choice for me... and because I didn't bring it up, it was NEVER discussed. Not once. Adoption was discussed. Keeping the baby was discussed. But I wasn't pushed for any kind of 'decision' in that room and when I left, I had an armful of pamphlets for adoption and a stack of coupons for diapers and baby formula, and a sample bottle of prenatal vitamins to get me through until I could arrange for legitimate OB/GYN care - which was encouraged.
Since then, I've been without health insurance on a number of occasions (such is the case when you work as a free-lance artist) and during many of those times, I've relied on PP for birth control, my yearly lady-exams, as well as breast cancer screenings and specialty referrals - all on a sliding scale directly proportional to my income.

I am the 97%.

My daughter is a Senior in High School this year. I'm thrilled to death that she can be covered under her dad's health insurance for several more years. (A luxury I didn't have at 18, even though I was still a student - my mother's insurance rejected my prenatal care and so the state paid for it entirely under AHCCCS.) So, in my case, the ACA would have helped me out and actually saved taxpayer money - which is why I roll my eyes at those who rail against it.

If my daughter were stuck in college with no health insurance and no money and needed to get her monthly pills or a well-exam, PP is precisely where I'd refer her.

She is the 97%.

I don't understand the mentality.
It's like saying you can't support a restaurant because there's a dish on the menu that you can't eat.
Or calling for the closing of all pharmacies because they are stocked with the 'morning after pill'.
Really? So no one will get their Cumadin, or their Darvocet? Screw the people who need their inhalers refilled or their oxygen tanks replenished. Evil lives here!!

No one says you have to agree with it. Hell, I don't agree with the idea of getting wasted every night 'til you puke... even though it's perfectly legal.

There's a sense of entitlement that permeated our moral fabric and resulted in the 'right' to reject anything that isn't part of our chosen lifestyle, and I fear it has affected our common sense.

We cannot rid this world of all that is undesirable or wicked. We cannot sanitize it to everyone's liking. There will always be poverty. There will always be war. There will always be starvation and oppression. There will always be serious issues requiring serious debate and laws to 'protect and serve' the people of this nation and this planet. They will not always 'protect and serve' you. Sometimes they protect and serve your neighbor. Sometimes a corporation.

What I don't understand is why we can't support an entity or organization that is 97% "good", but rather must do away with it because it is 3% "bad"? Where do we make that distinction? Based on what is undesirable to us?

I'll tell you this... if I used that rule to toss out students, I'd have no one left to teach!! My theatre kids are amazing, creative, talented, energetic little creatures... but as teenagers, they run about a 95/5 ratio of helpful qualities to undesirable ones. I'm sure that I run at about 80/20... some days, I'm straight-up 50/50.

In the meantime, the law doesn't go into effect until August 2nd, so go get your well checks now. Who knows what will come of these services in the near future. Also, AA Women's Health at 4135 Power Rd. in Mesa is holding a 'Well Women's Care Clinic' on July 21st at 8am - offering free services for the day to promote their new facility... presumably to the 97%.

Thank you, Jan Brewer, for saving us from evil - and ourselves - by limiting the funding available for women's services. I'm sure that someone out there will look back at this and say, "Well, that's the smartest thing she ever did."

Someone.

But not the 97%.