Babies... they aren't miracles...

Okay. I get it. Babies are super cool and it's amazing when a new human being comes into the world, AmIRight? Hence my undying love for my niece and nephew who are the two coolest kids out there!

But, is it okay that I don't think babies are miracles? I mean, I hear it all the time. "Oh my gosh! Have you seen Margaret's new baby? Isn't it a miracle?" "Yes, we're pregnant for the fifth time, we can't wait to have that new little miracle in our lives." "I'm preggers guys! It's a miracle!" (said the 16 year old kid that works at the Gap).

Gag. Me. Now.

At this moment in time there are thousands of women all across America and the world going into labor. When you go to visit someone who has just had a baby and you pop in to see the new little one in their crib at the nursery - they aren't the only baby in the room. There's an entire staff of peeps dedicated to making sure all is good in the hood for the 10/20+ babies that are there.

So.... what I'm trying to say is that when you look at the definition of a miracle, a baby is not a miracle.

Miracle: Noun - an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause.

When looking at the above definition, it becomes obvious to me that babies are not miracles. A "supernatural cause" y'all is not something that happens every minute of every day.

When a statue cries, Jesus is seen in a potato chip or angel's wings are displayed in a thunderstorm cloud - that's a miracle people. That's when we need to say, "Holy F*&#! Did you just see when the water parted and those ducks walked on dry land across the lake? That was a miracle! It surpassed my understanding of what's capable in this world!"

And to add to that - we are physically designed to have babies/make babies/want babies. It's not like I woke up yesterday, made a cup of tea and saw the words "love" in my tea leaves (which would have been awesome, btw). God made us capable and with the right equipment (most of the time, I know it doesn't always work out - I'm adopted so I get it. But there are so many kids out there that need to be adopted/loved that it really should even out!). Baby making and babies in general are a fact of life, just like dying and having to get your driver's license.

So the next time you see a baby, I think you should shrug your shoulder's and be like, "Cool, but it's not like I've never seen one of those before."

Please note that this was done with a bit of sarcasm. I really do love babies/kids :)

Blurghhh

So I realized I hadn't written anything here in a couple weeks and sat down to figure out what to write.

I have no idea though. Lots has been going on, but it's all the same stuff. I feel like baby steps to my future success are just that, baby steps. Every time I think a huge step forward has been made, I realize that there are millions of steps still in front of me.

Which is disheartening to say the least.

BUT that does not mean I'm giving up. Just that I need to take those steps faster and keep momentum going.

I had an awesome weekend and took the day off work today so I could rest (knowing that I was going to be wild and crazy for 3 full days/nights because of Pride festivities) and get my head back on straight.

So here it is, a simple note to myself:

Rachel, you can do it. Keep pushing forward and you will make it to the top. All you need is drive, talent, smarts, and some sweat and will-power. You have all that so keep going and don't look back.

Stoop-id Things We Say To Ourselves...

I am going to die alone...
Yes, unless you die in a murder suicide or a plane crash. But really, we ALL die alone. You can't take anyone or anything with you when you go. And sometimes you lose someone in your life and it feels like you are dying. But you won't. And eventually you'll be with someone else. Then you will still die by yourself - just with love and family and support around you. But alone you will go. Just quit saying "I'm going to die alone" as a pity party for yourself. It's STOOP-ID!

I procrastinate because I'm scared of success...
Me, Rachel McClard, I have used this excuse one too many times. STOP it already! I need to tell myself "If you procrastinate, you don't want success badly enough!" And then get stuff done. "I'm scared of success" is a nicer way of saying "You're not where you want to be you stupid loser." This phrase needs to be banned from my vocabulary, it's so STOOP-ID!

They're just not ready to be in a relationship...
No, they're just not ready to be in a relationship with you. Or how about you helped them get over something so they could move on and be with someone that will make them happy. Either way, you have to realize that every experience in life builds who we are. People will come and go, but you always have to be happy with who YOU are and how YOU treat people. YOU cannot control anyone else. If they aren't ready to be with YOU, you should not be with them. It's STOOP-ID to think or live otherwise.

Just one more drink...
At a bar, club, at 2am when you're sitting on the sofa catching up on CHUCK episodes. "Just one more drink" implies that you have had at least 2-3 previous drinks. "Just" kind of comes out as "Juuuuusssttt." Which if you had only 1 previous drink, you wouldn't feel bad about having 1 more. Don't be STOOP-ID!

I can stay up until 4am and have a perfectly functioning day at work...
HAHAHA... I tell myself this two times a week and stay up until at least 3am two other times. I was sick as a dog about a month ago and still managed to stay up until 6am 2 nights while in Vegas for a business trip. Needless to say that's why I stayed sick for three weeks. And really, who can live on 20 hours of sleep in a 5 night period? I have a comfortable bed, I have comfortable sheets and pajamas - go to bed already! Quit being STOOP-ID!

I will work out 5 times this week...
I didn't work out 2 times last week, why do I think I can suddenly become the workout master? And, BTW, my roommate is a personal trainer. SHE doesn't workout 5 times a week. Do 2 or 3 times for starter's, then work my way up - otherwise, it's STOOP-ID!

I need a distraction...
Although true, nothing but time and working on myself will allow me to grow and open up again. A distraction is a momentary thing that takes your mind off what's happening, only to return to said thing once you've finished the task at hand.

I'm really gonna try to stop saying STOOP-ID Things to myself.

Positive thoughts and positive attitude from here on!

You know you're getting older when...

You have to schedule an dermatology appointment to check out your freaky moles...

You pass up an opportunity to hang out at a pool in Santa Monica because you need to clean and do laundry...

You are sore from working out... three days later...

You watch Good Morning America...

You switch from watching Good Morning America to watching CNN...

You read Time Magazine instead of that People that's been sitting on your coffee table for two weeks...

You get an upset stomach from going on a late-night burrito run...

You write to-do lists and actually get everything done...

You have a four-step skin care routine...

You put sunscreen on 5-6 times while hanging out at a pool party for two hours...

You order a sparkling water instead of that last beer you were thinking about...

You wake up before 10am on a Sunday...

You worry about cancer when you're going to the Dr. for a check-up...

You yell at someone talking on the phone in the car in front of you and think "I should really sign that No Phone Zone" pledge that Oprah is asking people to sign...

You're only three months into being 30 and you feel like you are so much wiser and braver and know yourself more than you did four months ago...

But all these things don't make me old. Even though I do these things, I have so much more that makes me young and will keep me young.

I make an appointment to get moles checked out to live longer.

I pass up opportunities to hang out at pools in Santa Monica because I want to have fun tonight as a LOST finale screening party I'm having at my apartment.

I work out three times a week. Even if I am sore.

I watch the news and read Time Magazine because I care and want to know what's going on in the world. Not just in Hollywood.

I go to late-night burrito runs because I can stay up until 3am, get up at 8am and still put in a full day of work at WB and work on writing and producing when I'm done.

I write to-do lists and get them done because I have a full plate of things on my mind and responsibilities to take care of. If I didn't write the list, nothing would get done.

I have a four-step skin care routine because I don't have wrinkles and people say I don't look like I'm 30. I want to keep it that way as long as possible!

I put sunscreen on 5-6 times while hanging out at a pool party because I don't want wrinkles, getting a burn is painful and stupid, and I don't want to make another appointment with a dermatologist because I'm scared to get cancer.

I order sparkling water instead of that last beer because I want to continue looking and feeling good. Plus that whole drinking and driving thing is not something I want to do.

I wake up before 10am on a Sunday because the to-do list has to get done. Plus walking the dog on a beautiful, sunny day makes me feel alive.

I worry about cancer because I know that it happens. It could happen to anyone and I don't want to go out too soon.

I yell at a person on the phone in their car in front of me because it's stupid. I've been stupid many times. That's one thing I don't want to be stupid about anymore.

I'm only three months into being 30 and I feel like I am so much wiser and braver and know myself more than I did four months ago.

Oh yeah, and I still do things like skydiving, flip-cup competitions, silly sketches I film with my friends, goof off, watch funny movies, laugh with my friends until I cry, play pretend, shoot b-b guns in the apartment, plan trips to go white-water rafting, enjoy all the small things, and enjoy all the big things.

Skydiving...

This past Sunday I was able to share one of the best experiences I have ever had with some really great friends and my mom.

SKYDIVING!!!

I really don't think I can express how much of a big MOMENT this was for me. It's something I have wanted to do for a really long time and I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I actually did it.

10,000 feet up in the air I jumped from a little plane that looked like it was motored by hamsters in a wheel. I did this with my best friend and partner in crime, Venus.

I wasn't nervous, just ready to do it. The door opened, I took three big breaths to prep myself, swung my feet over the side. The wind whipped through my hair and hit my face and I looked down to see the earth 10,000 feet away. My right leg dangled off the edge into nothing as my left leg moved myself out further onto the step. One and a half seconds later we tipped forward and started falling.

But falling was not the sensation. We were flipping and spinning and falling to the earth below but for 45 seconds I was flying. It didn't feel like falling at all - like I suddenly had the super ability to fly. I laughed and whoo-hooed my way closer to the ground below and after being able to fly for 45 seconds, the cord was pulled and the chute opened. That was the part that hurt. The pressure on my chest was immense for .10 seconds, then the words "That was awesome" came rushing through my windpipe and out of my mouth.

We were still careening to the ground, but now it felt like we were just floating there, not moving. My tandem dude, Brendan, said, "that was awesome, wasn't it! Good job on the arch!" And then he started spinning us, tugging on one side of the cords to twirl us around and around as we drifted towards a cloud. He said "have you ever been through a cloud?" I said "Ummm, just with a plane surrounding me."

He pointed down and said we could see our shadow - and sure enough, I saw the outline of the two of us and the parachute on the top of this gorgeous cloud with a rainbow circle shining around our dark shadow.

We went through the cloud and it was such an amazing thing to behold -- thick, cold, calming air enveloped us as we did spins again. We got through it and were getting closer to the ground. I asked where we were landing, he pointed and I saw the specks of two cars and my mother waving to me! What a sight to see. My sweet and wonderful mother standing on the solid ground, looking up at me and waving ecstatically to me as we did spins again and started to prep for landing.

Brendan said to just lift my legs straight out and he would take care of the rest.

We floated the rest of the two hundred and fifty feet and hit the ground lightly, as if we just jumped from a three foot wall. My feet touched the ground and I smiled the biggest smile I think I could possibly smile.

"When can I go again?!" I exuberantly yelled!

I ran over and hugged my mom and ran back to hug Brendan. Then saw Venus twirling towards the ground and yelled back up, "GO V!"

I'm still trying to put all the pieces together and figure out how I can remember every single second. Or how can I describe the feeling of being completely out of control, but completely peaceful and calm and excited and joyous and oh-so-ever-happy to someone who hasn't done it?

It's true, I will do it again -- but am so grateful that I could have done this with my friends and that my mom was there to see us all through it.

Breathtaking... wonderful... empowering...

All I can think of to explain it now...

Mermaids and Pirates, Oh My!

On my recent trip down to San Diego I encountered something truly stunning outside an inexpensive motel... Lovely mermaid and pirate statues.

It made me think how random this was and who the person was who:
a) Said, "ya, know. I've always wanted a mermaid and a pirate statue outside the motel. I think that combo would really spruce the place up."
b) What such a thing would cost.
c) The artist who created the statue - were they totally into it too? Or did they think the motel owner was a bit off their rocker?
d) How many drunk people jump over the fence to take pictures with it (as I did with my friends)?
e) Why aren't there more pirate or mermaid statues in the world? I think it would be a happier place! (I will also take giant penguin, donuts and anything with Bob's Big Boy in the title)

Bad poetry from an 8th grade Rachel - #4

Happy Mother's Day!

Here's a poem I wrote for my mom in 8th grade for a presentation in class. Our parents had to come and watch and I still have the projector slide! I love you, Mom!

The Woman I Want To Be
by Rachel McClard

The kind of woman I want to be is kind, sweet and sincere.

I want to be strong and bold and have a great mind.

I want to care about people and share the things I can do.

And all the things I am saying are who my Mother is today.

She is all the things I hope for and every bit more.

She is a woman plain and meek and I love her more today than I ever have before.

Although she has had a hard life, she has been a lady through it.

I want to be like her and I will have to work hard to do it.

The Train in Cali Stays Mainly on the Plain

Over the weekend I took the train down the coast to Oceanside, CA where I saw a friend in a play.

This train ride made me realize something about myself. I observe things. ALL THE TIME. I love watching people. I like to see their idiosyncrasies and quickly make a story up in my head about them and why they are who they are.

I realized this when the Metro train (missed the Amtrak route) passed by the fifth backyard party. We went for miles and miles and miles out of the city, through an industrial area, huge fields full of old train tracks and warehouses with bright graffiti peppering the rusted walls, and the LA river - murky, dirty, yet still full of animals, birds, life. Once we left the steel and clammer of the city, our route took us through suburbia - or at least a type of suburbia.

I can't imagine living right next to the train tracks - where dozens of speeding tubes whisk by every day, their choo-choo's blaring every minute or two.

But apparently a large part of Southern California lives fifty yards away from these said tracks.

And that's when I counted the fifth backyard party and I realized that I had made up a story quickly in my head for all of them. I don't remember the first four, but the last one stuck with me. I guess it's because I stopped to think about it more.

It was a birthday party - I'm assuming a boy's because the sign was blue and the barbeque was going. Made me think that a bunch of mother's were huddling around a newly brought home baby boy and the father's were huddling around a barbeque, burning burgers and drinking too many beers. I also thought - I wonder if every time a train goes by and wales the whistle - does the mom shake her head and wish that she had married the other boy she fooled around with in high school instead of the one she ended up with.

Basically, I started wondering how much of my day I spend coming up with these quick little thoughts - where I could be sending my brain waves to do a better good. Like actually writing these little stories out. Or working on another story that I've come up with. Or plucking my eyebrows. Or dusting my room. Or laundry. Or taking that online photoshop class. Or learning French or Italian.

I guess this is where I get my "creative energy." But... it made me think I need to use my creative energy to not just come up with thoughts in my head, but to actually get them out... ON PAPER and not the neurons in my little noggin'!

Really, KFC, Really?

I'm sorry KFC. You have gone too far.

Not only do you mutilate millions of chickens a year and serve a ghastly amount of mashed potatoes, corn, gravy and cheese in a bowl, but now you want everyone to eat a sandwich that is made of two pieces of chicken breast, bacon and cheese???

I think I've had enough of you!

I mean, I'm a vegetarian, so I'm not eating any of you at all, but the fact that I have to speed through your commercials for the new "Double Down" with the tag-line "So much chicken, there wasn't room for a bun" makes my stomach churn.

At 580 calories and 32 grams of fat (which I thought would actually be more than that) you are making stupid people eat stupid food-like substances!

I really hope this doesn't lead to pizza wrapped in pizza wrapped in bacon or french fries mashed into buns with a stick of butter in the middle and covered in gravy.

KFC... you disgust me (although I probably would've eaten one of these back in college pre-vegetarian and pre-food conscious Rachel)!

Grilled Cheese Festival 2010

Spent a great afternoon today at the Grilled Cheese Festival in downtown LA.

First, why is it when I take the metro, have clear directions on where to go when I get out at the correct stop, take said directions, but I end up walking around for an hour getting lost? EVERY TIME. I consider myself to have good navigational skills. But, whenever I go underground, then come back up to the sunlight - it's like I was spun around 100 times, blindfolded on a tire swing after 10 beers and being on a cruise ship for three weeks.

Second, who came up with this festival and where can I send a thank you card to?

Third, fried macaroni and cheese balls - I think you were specifically created to haunt my dreams. Note - they look bite-sized, but they are not. Take caution and eat them accordingly (at least 3 bites - enjoy, don't burn or choke yourself on them).

Fourth, I'm still mad that the beer garden had closed already.

Fifth, was not able to partake in the Grilled Cheese Truck naughtiness. Now following on twitter and soon a restraining order will be finding it's way to me. I will need a partner in crime to purchase a macaroni and grilled cheese sandwich with a shot of tomato soup on the side as it's hard to hand over cash from a distance of 100 yards away.

Sixth, pizza that was sold at grilled cheese festival - not worth $3 for your lame flat-bread folded over and lightly stuffed with cheap mozzarella and tomato paste. You fooled me by being next to the stand that was giving away delicious grilled cheese on cranberry toasted bread (for the naysayers - it was really good).

Seventh, the little, orange VW vans were the highlight of the event for one Emily Churchill. I'm imagining her staring longingly at the pictures she took right now. She probably wishes she had taken at least one more.

Eighth, not part of the festival but something that still stands out: Dear homeless dude that sat at the back of the metro, please do not pee on yourself before getting on the train. The entire section of our train shifted to the front when you arrived. I think I still smell you.

Ninth, can somebody please come up with a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich truck? I think that's something LA needs (okay, by "LA" I mean "Rachel" needs).

Tenth, is it sad I'm already looking forward to the 9th annual Grilled Cheese Festival? Hmmmm, maybe but we all have to live for something.

Bad poetry from an 8th grade Rachel - #3

This one is uniquely funny as it was actually a song I wrote. I had just convinced my dad to go with me to buy a guitar. We went to three or four pawn shops in Little Rock, AR, searching for the right electric guitar. I had already been taking lessons and had a cheap acoustic. But I guess I wanted to rock it out.

I had two friends that were going to be in a band with me. Unfortunately, they didn't play any instruments. I was going to teach them to play bass and piano. Yeeehhhh, that didn't really pan out. I'm not sure why I thought this would be a good song... but alas, it's coming from an 8th grader that needed to stick to writing short stories and poetry. Leave song writing to the professionals.

Gone Away
by 8th Grader
Rachel McClard

Boring sounds of yesterday, Gone away, they stray.
People are getting strange, they do things that range.
How can you stand still, Not doing anything?
Days. Days. Gone away.
Days. Days. Still away.
Times I knew, won't come back.
Hard to think, what they lacked.
Timing was bad, should have done it sooner.
But now I see, what's wrong with me.
Now I see, what was missing in me.
I see the light, and have begun to fight.
Days. Days. Gone away.
Days. Still away.
Days passing by.

Bad poetry from an 8th grade Rachel - #2

This one is kind of funny because the last couple months I have been having trouble sleeping. I have a lot of things on my mind with my personal life and trying to push myself to get as much stuff done as I can to fulfill my goals. And it's funny that just like 8th grade Rachel, these things caused me to have sleepless nights.

I distinctly remember pulling this napkin out of my sack lunch and grabbing a pen from my backpack and writing away... Strange the things that you keep in the files of your memory.

Sleepless Nights
by 8th Grader
Rachel McClard

Sleepless nights.
Walking away from me.
Don't know.
Don't know why.
From beginning.
To the end.
Can't sleep.
Weird dreams.
Rather funny though.
Why not?
Why not?
How come?
Don't understand it.
These sleepless nights.
Wakeup. All the time.
How come!
Why? This. Is not normal.
Why?
Why?
Sleepless nights -
Sleepless nights -
This happens. Every night.
How come?
Because I try to fight.
Those sleepless nights.
Sleepless nights.
Sleepless nights ________

Bad poetry from an 8th grade Rachel

I recently found some old poetry that I wrote and will be posting them here.

They were all written around the time of my parent's divorce. Wow, can really tell that things were going on in my little head that maybe were a little deep for an 8th grader to grasp. But then again, I've always felt a little older than I am - feel like I'm an old soul.

This was done for a class presentation. It's still on the three-ring yellow paper that I originally typed it on with a note on the bottom, "Re type on white paper for transparency!" I don't remember my teacher's name from this class, but she really encouraged me. I'm not sure if it was because she thought I was good or because she knew I needed support at the time. But she was nice and I liked that class a lot... in the end, some of the details don't matter as long as you took something good away from it.

Time
by 8th grader
Rachel McClard

Time goes by quicker and quicker
Life goes by like the blink of an eye
Before you know it you will be old and gray.

What will your life be like years from now?
What will you be when you grow older?

When I was little all I thought of was the day I was living.
Now I think about today, tomorrow, and yesterday.
I think of the life that I led and the memories of the past.

But what is a memory?
Is it the good things or the bad things that have happened to you?
Could it be both?

Memories come as time goes by.
As you grow older dim pictures of your childhood appear but they are
some-times smeared and faded.
And sometimes all you have are the words that were spoken to you in a
time which cannot come back.

All I want is the days of the past to come again.
I want my life to be better. No stress and fear of what tomorrow will bring.
Without the sadness of yesterday being gone and never coming back.

Time goes by quicker and quicker and soon another day today will be over,
and I'll be sad for another day of life passed and dreams in my life not
fulfilled.

Dreams are happy and some are sad.
Dreams are hopeful and dreams are happily created.
Dreams are thoughtful and they are hateful.

Time goes by quicker and quicker.

FYI...There's not a toilet paper fairy...

Help.

There's someone on the third floor of my building where I work who needs to be destroyed. Or at least taught a lesson in manners.

This person thinks it is okay to grab two feet (sometimes more) of toilet paper and throw it on the ground either before or after they use the facilities.

I can only imagine this person as being:
1) Handicapped to where they can't bend over to pick up said T. Paper
2) Handicapped, but more like the humpback of Notre Dame variety - i.e. live in the rafters of the parking structure, socially challenged, only speaks to rats, and enjoys rolling around in their own mess
3) Blind and think they are actually throwing the TP into the trash

If the person is any of the above, we should talk and I will teach, show, demonstrate what should be done with the toilet paper. Even if you are the Hunchback of building 154, I promise I won't bite and we may end up life long friends or at least Facebook buddies (if you can access wireless from the rafters of the parking structure).

If you aren't any of the above, you need to realize, even though I pick up after you, I am not the toilet paper fairy. I do this because I don't want the next person going into the stall to think it's me that's throwing the paper on the floor! And I hate that if no one picked it up, it would pile up until the janitor would have to get a new trashbag to contain all the toilet paper that you so carelessly throw to the side. And she already cleans up after everyone. Should she clean up after your laziness? I don't think so, it's the principal really.

And, the fact is, we are adults. Last time I checked the people who work at Warner Bros. are all reasonable human beings who get paid to work in the movie business and get paid well in fact.

We should all know how to pick up after ourselves.

And if you don't... like I previously stated... you will be destroyed. I will figure out who you are at some point and make your life miserable. Are we clear?

New Trend - Driving Gloves

I am by no means the most stylish person in LA. I do not pretend to be and I most certainly do not consider myself on the cusp of all that is fashion forward.

But I'm going to give you a leg up as to what is going to be "the next big thing" in fashion.

For years you will be thanking me that I got you on the "in" and you were the first of your friends to purchase this amazing accessory... driving gloves.

I'm not talking about old-lady, up-to the elbow, lace, 1947 ballgown attire gloves. I'm talking fierce, leather, bold colors (or at least the color of your car). And they should have ventilation, some sort of design that makes them stylish, breathable, and HAWT to look at.

All right, I can't do it. This is ridiculous. Driving gloves?! Why is this something that has become a fashionable item?

The three people I have seen wearing driving gloves the past week were all stuck in traffic - same as I was. We weren't racing across the Autobahn at 180 km/hour (roughly 112 MPH). We were at a stop light. I look over and see the gloves first, pull forward a little more and see that my eyes are not deceiving me. They really are wearing driving gloves.

I can understand wearing the gloves if you're participating in a cross country race. The leather would help your hands not get tired and you could grip the wheel better while making dangerous turns. I can even understand if you're driving up to SanFran for the weekend. That's a 6+ hour drive and your hands can get sun damage being exposed to the California sun. But driving two miles in bumper to bumper traffic to pick up some veggies at the farmer's market or grab a yogurt makes no sense to me!

So why don't we boycott this trend?! Let's not have wrist tan lines from wearing driving gloves and save some animals hides by not purchasing leather goods.

Or we can add to the craze by driving in helmets and full body race suits with sponsors and a big Gatorade emblem on the hood of our cars.

Hmmm, I could use the extra cash...

An Old-School Writer in a New School World

That beautiful piece of machinery above is the new typewrite I just purchased!

A 1958 Olympia SM 3 Deluxe. It's currently in the mail, being shipped to my work. It was something I've been wanting to get for awhile now - an old-school manual typewriter.

Why?

The first time I wrote each of all the following was done from a manual typewriter: short story, poem, play, script. I have such memories of sitting down in front of this device and having my fingers dance with the keys. At around five years old I sat at a big oak desk next to my grandmother's even bigger oak desk at the tax office she worked. These desks were miniscule compared to Uncle Rayford's massive oak desk that had tax papers, receipts, and envelopes neatly stacked a top it's impressive surface. Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and Baby Bear oak desks all in a converted garage next to my great-Aunt's house.

The manual typewriter also belonged to my great-Aunt, Aunt Sissy. Or, "Sister," as my grandmother calls her. Aunt Sissy is my grandmother's 10 year older sister. When I was young, she always had around fifteen indoor/outdoor cats (it got so bad if you walked into the living room you could count the fleas jumping around your socks), an interest in professional wrestling, and an old Lincoln she would whip into and back out of the the gravel drive-way (that had blind-sides on all sides) with the ease of a stuntdriver. Now at 87, she still drives, still has cats (down to 2-3 at a time now) and still watches wrestling everyday.

Back to her typewriter. Antique is a word so use, but I could also use ancient. Something from the late 20's, this typewriter weighed a ton and you really had to press the circular buttons pretty hard to get the letter to swing up and hit the page, leaving the ink behind on the eggshell paper. It was a work-out to type a paragraph.

But the sound was exsquisite! When I got to typing fast the rhythm was relaxing and kept my mind going. I would get lost in the motion and suddenly have three or four pages written.

When not visiting my grandmother I used my dad's newer plug-in model. It was very high-tech compared to Aunt Sissy's. I loved plugging it in and hitting the on switch, the way it quietly purred and then suddenly roared to life.

As I got older I moved from simple poems and short stories to writing papers for classes, a 3-Act play and even my first screenplay (which was a Western that my friends and I filmed for drama class). And then I moved on to a computer when I was about 16 (yes, I'm old enough to know what it's like to live without a laptop, cellphone or email address - which I didn't get email until my freshman year of college).

But there's always been a connection with myself and a typewriter. And for the last few years I've been feeling like I need to get one. A typewriter introduced me to my love of writing. And for that I am forever grateful!

I may be in a world of the internet, technology and iPhones, but this lady is also going to sit down and write some great, fulfilling and passionate things on that beautiful Olympia typewriter.

Or I could just write some bad poetry and call it a day!

Should I Name My Blog?

I've been posting to my blog for about a year and a half and it has just now occured to me that I don't have a proper name for it.

The problem is I started it as an excercise to get writing into my everday life, not just when I'm working on a particular project or script. I feel like I'm a funny person with good observational skills, so I wanted a creative outlet for me to get some of the silly things that I think of out of my head. Plus, my life can be a little crazy sometimes, so sitting down, taking a moment and just reliving an experience or moment kind of helps things become clearer.

But should I really name my Blog?

I didn't really have a theme when I sat down to start it and, truth be told, looking back at what I've written, there's still not a central theme. The topics have included: top 10 lists, goals to achieve, short stories, dating again, funny thoughts and ramblings. The only thing that strings them together is that they are completely and 100% from my mind and the typing of my wee little fingertips.

So should I name it something cheesy like "Rachel's Rants" or "Desperately Seeking Rachel?" Or maybe something completely off like, "Owl Feather and an Overall ASSessment of Life?"

Suggestions? Thoughts? Should I come up with a name or just keep it as is?

Hmmmmm.....

Pregnancy Portraits

There is a particular trend that's been gaining momentum ever since Demi Moore premiered her seven months pregnant belly on the cover of Vanity Fair in August of 1991 - the "Pregnancy Portrait." Annie Leibovitz shot the cover to make a statment on de-glitzing Hollywood and to show that even while pregnant, a sex symbol can still be sexy, provocative and alluring.

I came across a photographer's gallery today that has an entire section of "Pregnancy Portraits" - I'll give you her name if you ever need to get your bun in the oven photographed. Let's just say that most of the pictures just made me feel uncomfortable.

Recently I got into a conversation with a friend about how being pregnant really shouldn't be called a "miracle." I know that babies are wonderful and that it is special to be pregnant. But let's not call it a miracle. Miracles are supposed to be things that happen that aren't supposed to happen - like parting the red sea, turning water into wine or finding the image of Jesus in a watermelon seed. But babies are born everyday. Probably every minute of everyday. That doesn't sound too special too me. Miracle my ass!

So let's take a look at the three pictures at the top of the page and figure out why these couples thought getting a pregancy portrait was right for them.

#1 (Left) - I don't think this is the way you tell your family that your baby daddy is black. That's an awkward conversation just waiting to happen. But seriously - is this something you are going to put up in your foyer? This might have been the dudes idea as he seems to be looking at her breasts more than their intertwined fingers. He's probably just trying to get a peek since it's been awhile.

#2 (Middle) - "Honey, I have this old sword, a jean skirt with a front-zipper that I can strategically unzip to allow my entire pregant belly to show, a tube top and army boots. Let's go get a pregnancy portrait!" "Sure thing, dear. But I'm not going to smile. I don't want anyone to think I'm actually proud of that thing growing inside of you."

#3 (Right) - "You see, it's a miracle because when I make a heart symbol around my big pumpkin belly, a pink, magical heart glows around it!" Again, something you're going to put up in your house and make all your guests stare at uncomfortably? Imagine this kid when he/she turns fifteen and has a date over and old mom has this hanging in the living room. And is it just me or does grandpa in the back look like Will Ferrell with a bald cap on?

What do you think about pregnacy portraits? Should they be outlawed like clove cigarettes?

Online Dating and the Travesties of...

Profiles...

From my last post you learned that I had recently re-joined that online dating site that I decided we would call "LotsofBait.com." Mostly what I have been thinking about the last few weeks (besides the depressing rant that I won't bore your with) has been about getting back up again, riding that next wave, taking the bull by the horns, and basically trying to stay positive.

But now I feel like I'm just beating a dead horse... Moving on is hard. It's not as easy as just saying, "Alright, today I'm better and going to be okay!" The exclamation point is added to solidify the idea that all is good. But in reality being dumped is something that does take a little while to get back your footing... and as I mentioned, it's hard when you see your former-flame on "LotsofBait.com" or Facebook or everywhere you look because you are reminded of them.

But, I'm trying to use some of this as an exercise in my ability to observe. I've known since I was very young that I observe first, make my statement later, and end up coming out better because of it.

And what I am observing now is that I think one could write a masters thesis on the online dating profile.

First, how in the world are you able to say all that you want to say in your own profile without coming off sounding like you think you are the greatest thing since Uggs, jeggings (jeans that fit you like leggings), or Susan Boyle?

You just can't. So you have to be short, sweet, to the point. Reading back my profile I come off as assured of myself but maybe a bit cocky and also not very original - my screen name is funnyru2, who doesn't want to laugh and have a good time? So even though my favorite thing to do is laugh and make people laugh, I had to edit, move that down the page a bit. Writing, it's all in the rewrite.

Second, a lot of people are either too sweet, too short or not at all to the point. I've read profiles that are 14 paragraphs long but completely contradicting. Another says LOL or misspells every other word. Or they only list "hiking" and "sushi" as their interests. Really? Those are the only things you like in this entire world? Huh, we would not get a long. There are some that just have one sentence that says "message me." Wow, how many hits do you get out of that? Several profiles try to reel you in with an amazing description of themselves but in the last sentence she says, "I have been married for 10 years and we are both looking to take our relationship to the next level." Gross.

Third, can people please put pictures of themselves that actually look like YOU? No HUGE sunglasses, no pictures taken at midnight with a disposable camera from 40 feet away, no hot main picture then 15 other pictures with you and your really hot friends that you can't tell which one is you, no pictures taken before 2007, nothing with you making out with someone else, no self-portraits you took while driving through x-y-z-city with your baby visible in the car-seat in back, no random shots of sunsets or the beach, or hotels, or hikes, or cars, or anything that doesn't show me YOU!!! URGH!

Fourth, please don't message me saying that you'd like to take me to your ranch in the middle of nowhere. Or that you want to come and visit me when you live half way around the country. I've received about 6 of these type messages - all from women 45+ years old. Maybe it's worked for you in the past but when I delete your message without responding, don't try again, M-kay?

I promise... Even though I'm dealing with a break-up, I still have standards.

Check back in a few weeks though, I might just be lonely enough to move to a ranch and take up milking cows and getting frisky in a barn with my 55 year old soul mate named 2ht2hndl55.

A Very Small Pool for the Fish to Swim...

Getting back out and dating again can be difficult after you have your first love. Actually, it's hard to put yourself out there after breaking up with anyone, I just have to take people's words for it because I myself have only had the one heartbreak.

So we're going to take this as a "in my experience" kind of way. Which, even though I have had very little, it doesn't matter about the quantity, it's the quality that counts. And I can truly say I loved, lossed, and am trying to go back swimming again - mainly because my brain can get weighed down by the past and I try to stay pretty positive.

There's really no way you can say the exact amount of time is takes to get over someone. The question is, "Do you really ever get over someone?"

I don't think so. Take my ex-boyfriend from high school whom I dated for 2 years. I didn't love him. He was a nice, quality, gentle, quiet guy. I knew after the first few dates that he wasn't "the one." But I can still remember my feelings when we kissed the first time. I remember so many great, special, sweet moments. Those things don't go away because of time and space. They last... at least for me. They get carted away to the furthest compartment of your mind and the cobwebs collect. But sometimes when I pass a Marie Challender's I smile - we had our first date (that I actually don't remember what we did) and before he took me home we stop and ate a slice of pie. I was 16 and it was the nicest thing...

Okay, back to now, present, current Rachel... Getting dumped sucks. There is no other way to put it.

But I keep telling myself that no matter how many love poems were written about "death if I can't have you," "heartbreak means death," etc - no one has actually died from a broken heart. Not even Christopher Reeve in the movie "Somewhere in Time." I think he died from all that weird time travel!

So the fact is that whether two, six, 12 months from now I'm not over the former-flame, does it matter when I start trying to date again? How long should I cry? I don't know. I thought I was done crying, but this morning proved otherwise.

There's a problem though... LA is a very small pool for the fish to swim in! I joined a dating site (where I happened to meet the former-flame and we dated for 8 months) and we'll call it "LotsofBait.com"

The problem with the title is that there is NOT Lots of BAIT!

The crying session this morning was because of just that. I go to log out and two things pop up that I didn't expect to see:

1) The former-flame had been on the same site just in the last couple hours! And there was the profile picture and the daunting little green letters under it "Online Today!"
2) The former-flame's ex was the profile picture one over!

This pool is too small! How am I supposed to mingle in a sea that's full of the past?

Of course I didn't cry over being mad that I saw their pictures. I cried because that loss is still fresh.

But we are both moving on... and that's okay. That's life. That's why there's another day tomorrow and there will always be better days than today... At least I keep telling myself that!

Kidz Korner

I titled this "Kidz Korner" because years ago I saw a store (I think it was Dallas) that had this as their name. Why must we try to make things look and sound cute in order to be different?

Ummmm, hi. Let's not have a store where kids go to misspelled!

Our children today need to LEARN things, not be taught that corner is spelled with a "K"!

Businesses or products do this all the time in order to be cute. But why? If you want to name your company, business, store, product the same as something that already exists, just be creative and come up with something that is actually creative instead of changing the "S" to a "Z" (KIDZ), using "IN" instead of "ING" (Dunkin' Donuts), or jumbling the words together (Whataburger, Fatburger, Chick-Fil-A).

I know these are all catchy and a marketing team spent many, many hours testing these names out and brainstorming what would be the best "sell" for their product and their signage - but let's STOP IT!

The fact is that most people can't write a simple paragraph without using spellcheck. And if kids that are growing up today start using the misspelled words in everyday life, then we are going to have a country full of dummies. Do we really want a president someday to write a letter to the United Nations and say, "Dear United-Nahtionz?"

I didn't think so.

Let's all boycott products that are misspelled.

Now, I'm off to get a Krispy Kreme doughnut that's near the Toys R' Us in Burbank...

Why Facebook Can Be Dangerous to Your Health and Sanity

...Especially when breaking up with someone... Someone you spent many, many months confiding in, sharing thoughts and feelings... and some of them through facebook. If when you were together you would check their profile to see if they mentioned your date the night before or the trip you just got back from (and of course comment or "like" their status while wearing a smile on your face).

When you break up and decide to stay "friends" it's inappropiate politically to delete your former-flame from your facebook. And definitely not kosher when you have 10+ friends in common.

I happen to be at my computer 40+ hours a week. So sue me if I also end up updating my FB status several times throughout the day and also checking out the former's status too... It's the new form of stalking.

Here are signs you might have a problem:

1) You wake up listing in your head how you are going to update your status. This is not only when you first wake up though, you constantly think about it as a way to verify how "well" you're doing.

2) You WANT to update your status with things like "I used to really like Jon Bon Jovi. Now I think he's a douche." (which sucks because I really like JBJ, the former LOVED him, but I would get a kick out of what they thought of that plus other friends would comment that they agreed.) You END UP writing "Wow, Feeling like this week has gone by so fast." Not as much of a punch, right?

3) You accept every event that you are invited to because you want to look like you are busy.

4) You have to tell yourself you are going to check your FB only 5 times in a day. And then halfway though the day you say... okay, 10 times.

5) You constantly look up positive, happy, greater-than-anything quotes from famous authors, poets, and philosopher's in order to make it seem like you are doing well.

6) You post funny pictures of yourself with your friends having "the best of times" and put them in a new album entitled "Happiness" "Look at me now" or "THIS is the LIFE."

7) You ask your friends to comment on your status - popularity is always a plus in a break-up.

8) You Facebook flirt with people you have just "friended."

9) You make comments to mutual friends, on your status or put a link on your page about this or that great thing that you are planning on doing - that you know your ex would want to do too.

10) You force yourself to not do any of the above for an entire 3 day period - usually the weekend - and then at the end of it, write something like "This weekend was the best thing that ever happened to me ;)" The wink at the end is crucial because you could be winking at a friend... or maybe a new someone in your life...

So, what's the correct dosage of medicine to get over this and take back your sanity?

I don't know yet... do you?!

Who is Mixy Fandino

One of the most amazing names I have ever heard! A co-worker of mine (thanks Sara) introduced me to this name and I love the way it sounds when I say it. It puts a smile on my face.

Belonging to an accountant that works for a vendor we use in the UK, Mixy Fandino immediately made me imagine what this woman would look, act, talk, be like! I started putting on an English accent saying things like, "Hello, I'm Mixy Fandino and I'm an accountant by day and trapeze artist by night" or "Hello there, my name's Mixy Fandino and I enjoy a good swim in the English Channel and my farts smell like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies."

It really is one of the most lovely names I've ever heard. I bet her parents really gave themselves a good pat on the back after coming up with it. And they probably called her "MF" when she was in trouble instead of saying her full name. How could anyone ever be angry at innocent child named Mixy Fandino?

1) Mixy Fandino is going on my list of character names
2) Mixy Fandino will become a new phrase for me to say instead of "that's really cool"
3) Mixy Fandino might possibly be the first and middle name of my first born - if I ever decide to have children
4) Mixy Fandino should run for Prime Minister of the UK as she would win on name likeability alone
5) Mixy Fandino - who are you?!

What's the most interesting name you have ever heard of?

It's been awhile

My last post was a little while back. I've been procrastinating, distracted and recently went through a break-up, causing my mind to not want to do anything but everything all at the same time.

My last posting talked about New Year's Resolutions and what better time than now to get a fresh start on things. Here are a few things to start doing RIGHT now...

1) I promise myself be so strong that nothing can disturb my peace of mind. (part of the Optimist's Creed that I have posted to my bathroom mirror)

2) To be grateful everyday.

3) To know I have a Purpose

4) To celebrate my friends and family

5) To know I will be the apple of someone's eye someday

6) To realize how much I mean to my friends and family

7) To use my gift everyday - write, use that PURPOSE

8) To treat my body well, it's the only one I have but also enjoy life

9) To be adventurous - don't hold back

10) To trust myself, my gut, my heart

Okay - in my last post I talked about "vague lists." I feel this isn't vague - it's realistic. More realistic than saying "I will work out 5 times a week." I've been saying stuff like that for ages now. I don't think I will ever be a gym rat, but in the last 2 years I have gone to the gym more than the previous 28 years combined - so I'm doing better... I just get off track sometimes with things like that.

But my 10 Resolutions above CAN and WILL be accomplished - I already try to live this way, just need to consistently believe and do this, everyday.

No excuses. No regrets.

The Year 2010 - Purpose

I promise, this year I will be better to you blogger!

I will work harder to achieve more success.

Procrastination will be out the window.

The word "procrastinate" won't even be in my vocabulary anymore. By the end of the year if someone says, "well, sometime I procrastinate," I'll ask them, "what's that word you said mean? I've never heard it before." They will look at me and laugh. I'll pretend I made a joke and then go to my dictionary and look it up. After reading the definition, I'll say to myself, "wow, Rach, glad you don't do that because otherwise you wouldn't have gotten so much done this year!"

The definition of resolution: the mental state or quality of being resolved or resolute; firmness of purpose.

I think that firmness of purpose is a pretty good thing to have. Figuring out that purpose and firmly sticking to it is the way to make things happen. Everyone always puts the same things on their list of resolutions but it becomes hard to stick to a vague lists like "eat better, work out more, drink less, work more, don't procrastinate." So we have to define those purposes in a more specific way in order to achieve our goals.

Right now I'm making my "purpose list."

I'll publish it tomorrow.

Cheers and Happy 2010!