The year in review

This has been the most challenging year of my life. Incredible highs, incredible lows. Great growth and enormous set-backs. Disappointments abound and yet expectations are far exceeded. It’s been a roller coaster and I’m not sure it’s done yet.

The hardest thing is losing one of the most treasured friendships in my life. One who was so dear to me, who I thought would always be there, thought would maybe some day be something more than a friend, someone without whom I would not have made it through the first moments of my new life. It was there one day then slowly faded, without warning, without discussion, without explanation. Just gone. Occasional contact through necessary emails but the delicate nature of what was once such a blessing is now dissipated and vaporous. I miss you every single day still. I wish you knew that. And I wish that thought didn’t scare you so much. But I can’t do anything about it now. You’re off with a new muse, I guess, and you never looked back. I only wish you love and blessing and that you find whatever will bring you the joy and the love you seek that you chose not to find in me.

I’m still alone. That’s so incredibly difficult. I see my friends with their loved ones and I am glad that they have found that person who fills them. I know it’ll take time. I know that Cute Boy, who I can’t have, is just a step on the way to finding someone to share myself with and is like training wheels for a relationship. I’m still wobbly and I have skinned my knees a lot but hope that I am finding the balance and the control to drive off my own street and venture out into the neighborhoods beyond to see what’s there. Maybe this year the training wheels will come off. Maybe not. I won’t know until we’re here again in a year.

The ladies in my life, however, have never been stronger and more supportive and more amazing than they have this year. Watching each of them grow and follow their hearts and their dreams makes me stronger and more hopeful. Monica and her writing achievements and her goofy affection for her boy toy; Patty and her discovery of what she really wants in her life and the potential for her creative growth when we tackle “Keely and Du”; Anna B. and her blossoming from this shy, scared, wounded woman in an absolutely delightful, funny, quirky dame; Zadra and her own unique Zadraness and her beautiful gift of friendship; as well as the other ladies who move in and out of my life. You have held my hand through the losses and the fears and the joys and the terror. You will never know what you mean to me.

Creatively, I have been beaten and broken and battered yet come out stronger and more solid in who I am and what I do. Discovering the wonderful gift of collaboration with Monica and Dave has been amazing. We are a blessed trio, wacky, dark, weird and wonderful. I am excited about the potential we have and hope that we are still working together in five years or ten years or 20 years. They bring out in me the most wonderful parts and give me the confidence and respect to help me write better than I have ever written in my life.

The support of “The Wraith” cast has moved me in their unflinching belief that, somehow, with $1.50, we can make something amazing. I hope I can honor their belief and their trust and hold up my end of the bargain in 2008.

And then Famecast. Who knew when Richard B. sent me this innocent little email suggesting I check out this site that “The Change-Up” would end up in the top 5 and I would have been spending rock start time in Austin representing that film. It was exhausting, difficult, challenging, emotional, and it’s not over yet. I am learning that this one is for me to learn how to do this on my own, without relying on anyone to validate the effort, without having someone in Austin to share it with me (other than over the cellular stratosphere). This one is for me, as much as I share it with everyone else, and I’m glad I got to experience it.

I have learned so much about myself, the good and the bad, this year. And I’m realizing I’m just breaking the surface. I’m trying to avoid the old patterns and create new ones that will help me on this path and keep me moving. I need to make sure that in 20 years, I don’t look back at this time and wonder if it was all worth it. I want to look back and see how these baby steps led me to a wondrous, fulfilling, crazy, insane, joyful life. I hope to look back and see where I chose right and where the lifelong friendships I hope I still have in 2037 started.

I started about in 2004 thinking about the next 30 years of my life. That thought led me to 2007 and the first few years of that 30. I regret very few choices in this short new life. I don’t think we can grow without a few regrets. I am a baby now, just beginning that 30 year voyage. I hope to take these lessons and this discovery into my infant-hood and mid-life adolescence and grow and become the woman that I want to be, the woman who took a chance 30 years ago in 2007 and found herself living those 30 years with the joy and the love and the passion that she hoped she would find.

I wish the same for all of you. Look 30 years into the future and imagine what you want your life to be like. Then make it that. It’s that simple, it’s that complicated. But it’s what we all deserve. Live to the best, live to the most.

So this is the real link for you to really vote

Don't forget to vote for "The Change-Up" and here is the REAL link:

http://www.famecast.com/contest/stage_top5.php?stage_id=33&round_id=171&artist_id=6102

So click, register, vote. Every day. Simple now that we know where the link is! We're currently #4 so we have a long way to go.

And you get a brief glimpse of me from my whirlwind Austin tour as I introduce the film online now!

Please feel free to repost this and share it with those you love.. and who you don't love!

Sorry about the confusion.

Luv. =)

Change in the voting link for "The Change-Up" on Famecast.com

Of course, Famecast.com has changed the link now that we're in the top 5.

Here's where to go to vote for this week:

http://www.famecast.com/contest/stage_top5.php?stage_id=33&round_id=171

Sorry 'bout that. Change your bookmark, if that'll help.

Thanks for the support!

Voting begins again today for "The Change-Up"

My short film, "The Change-Up" is currently in the top 5 on Famecast.com, a competition website, on its way to $10,000!

Voting begins Saturday, December 15 at 6 PM and goes through Saturday, December 22nd. You can vote each day per email. So if you really want to support the film, register with more than one email and take 30 seconds and vote from each.

Here’s how you do it:

1. Register at http://www.famecast.com.

2. Follow directions on your confirmation email. If you don't get a confirmation email, go to Famecast.com and click on "Re-issue confirmation email."

3. Bookmark my page http://www.famecast.com/lifeonitssideproductions

4. Vote. Every single freaking day. It's that easy.

This is the final round of voting for $10,000. Every single vote counts. Please feel free to share this information with your friends and encourage them to vote as well. Let me know if you want a daily reminder by emailing me at susan@lifeonitsside.com.

Thanks.

Susan Lee

Hey

I miss you.

Austin - the long version

Get a drink and a snack, this may be a long one.

4AM – Force myself to get out of bed after going to bed at 1 AM. Shower. Check and double check that I packed everything (of course, I didn't).

5:15 AM – Leave for Burbank Airport.

5:45 AM – Check in for flight, pick up breakfast…



7:15 AM – Board plane…



Take off for Austin!

7:15-8:15 AM – Do some work for Kory while in the air to Vegas. Finish work while on the tarmac at Vegas.

8:15 AM – 1:35 (Austin time) PM – Finish Kory work. Break down "The Wraith" script so I can budget it…



Read "Strange Adventures of Rangergirl" so I can begin working on the adaptation now that I have a non-exclusive option on it.

1:35 PM – Get off in Austin!

Call Toni and am told to go to the curb and wait for one of the Famecast vans to pick me up. See a tall, thin, tattooed woman with partially shaved and multi-colored hair, figured she was with Famecast. She was. Clare. English. Beyond cool. Wait only a short time for the shuttle and get on to go to the hotel.



Back of our driver's head:




2:00 PM – Get to the hotel – Doubletree Suites Hotel. Check in. Receive a warm cookie upon check in.



Go to my room.

Discover it's a suite. See the tour below.



Time to shower and change and enjoy the privacy and the peace and quiet for a little bit. Figure out what to take with me to the event. Practice in my head what I'm going to say about the film (none of which I actually did say).



3:30 PM – Go the lobby and wait for shuttle to event. Meet Tony Villalobos, director of "Beautiful Day." He's already started drinking. Meet the band, Recorder, as they try to figure out how to get on the shuttle. They decide to walk the eight blocks to the venue – in their costumes. (More about them later).





4:00 PM – Arrive at Stubbs BBQ.



Sign in.



Greeted by the incredibly lovely Famecast staff who treated all of us like royalty.

I is an artist, my badge says so.











Discover the craft service table. Meet Andrea Ou, director of "The Tricycle" who just flew in from Taiwan Tuesday. She and her brother were great. Hung out with them a lot. Cool people.

This is me, Tony and Andrea:



Watch Tony drink some more. Run into Clare again, meet the rest of the band – Martin Bregville Sputnik (formerly Sigue Sigue Sputnik in the '80s). Meet a ton of incredibly talented artists in Dance and Electronic top 5.

6:00 PM – Run through what we're doing for the show. Watch Tony drink more. Discover it's an open bar. Eat some really wonderful Texas BBQ. Get interviewed by the documentary crew who are filming the whole thing. Forgive me, those of you whose names I did not mention, because I'm still not used to being interviewed.



6:00 PM – 6:40 PM – Pace a lot while the first two filmmakers go up and talk about their films. I hung around outside because I just couldn't go in. Too much in my own head. Again, the Famecast crew could not have been nicer about being encouraging and supportive. Really great bunch.



6:40 PM – Go up on stage and introduce "The Change-Up." Discover to my horror (and my lesson) that I did not check the output, assuming it was the same as the output I have been using. Wrong. A couple of big fuck-ups from Final Cut Pro. Try not to throw up. Get back up on stage and take the critique from the judges, who were very forgiving about the technical problems. The experts were a woman from Richard Linkletter's company, Alex Smith (writer of "The Slaughter Rule), and John Merriman, programmer of the Austin Film Festival. They all had pretty valid things to say – they loved the cast, particularly the girls. Liked the relationships. Liked the chemistry, which apparently was all from the actors, nothing from me, as Alex basically stopped short of saying he didn't like me as a director. After all, the actors brought everything to the film, I apparently did nothing to assist that. Fuck him. Two of the experts thought the script was not clear enough about what was going on. I've gotten this a couple of times so it's a valid comment to consider. Merriman got the piece totally and really liked it. All three thought that there was so much more there to be explored, again, another comment I've gotten several times. So many people want to know who these women are, what got them there and how they got out of it. That's a big compliment, I think, because people want to see what else happens. They all said they'd like to see the bigger project and see what we could do with the script without the limitations imposed by the 48 hour format. Overall, not bad comments. They were equally critical about all the films, doing their jobs, I guess.



6:55 PM – Get off stage and walk right into the documentary crew, who followed me as I ran into Tony, with another drink his hand, and we chatted about what I thought about the judges critique. Tried not to be aware of the crew. Finally let out the breath I'd been holding and went to the open bar and got a Jamesons.



6:55 PM – 11 PM – Watched the other performers, hang out with the filmmakers, Andrea and Tony. Avoid Tony's very drunken, very sloppy attempts at come-ons to me (hey, I'm into older women – yeah, that's gonna work on me). The other performers were so absolutely incredible. It was almost humbling to be in this company. The dancers were amazing, everything from hip-hip to modern to ariel.



Great electronic music as well. This is Clare:




I could do a whole blog about Recorder but check out their video on Famecast. You'll dig it very much.

The crowd at Stubb's.


Met some of my fans! Several people came up and told me how much they enjoyed "The Change-Up" and that I could count on their vote in the next round (December 15).



11 PM – Try to figure out how to get to the after-party, as this was the last night of the showcase. A guy just appeared and took Andrea, her brother and I to the club, Pure.



Escorted upstairs by the staff to a closed, very hip club open just for us. Open bar, chicken wings and a very celebratory sensibility. The crew finally got to unwind and have a drink with us. Actually spent a very long time talking with Roy Nowlin, the DP on "Elevator Music." Really cool guy lives in New York, just a bit younger than me. He left a job of 14 years as a crane operator in New York a year or so ago to pursue his dream of being a DP. Didn't manage to get another drink because we talked so much.



1:30 AM – Realize I'm no longer listening to Roy, who was interesting, and decided it was time to go back to the hotel. Said my good-byes to everyone. Walk out to the street and promptly throw an artist hissy-fit because there isn't a shuttle waiting for me. Then laugh. The doorman hails me a cab and I get in, realizing I don't know where the hotel is. We finally figure out that it's across from the Chili Pepper (see if you know that reference) and, $4.85 later, I get out. Who do I run into in the lobby? The very drunk Tony, who is still trying to get me to come to his room, apparently because no one else would. Almost thought I was gonna have to call security on him if he followed me to my door. Get into my jammies, find a wi-fi signal and do my mini-blog.



3:00 AM – Finally drift off to sleep.

8:00 AM – Alarm goes off. Alarm gets re-set to 9 AM.

9:00 AM – Alarm goes off. Pack. Double-check everything. Head to the lobby. Hang out with Roy while waiting for the shuttle.



9:30 AM – Get shuttled to airport. Almost get bumped from my flight. End up on the same flight with Clare. Join her on the Vegas/Burbank leg and have a great conversation.

2:00 PM (LA time) – get picked up from Burbank. Glad to be home.



That's the Readers Digest version. Happy to share more when I see you. All in all, an amazing, ridiculously pleasurable trip.

"The Change-Up" is going to Austin

"The Change-Up" came in third out of the top 5 on Famecast.com, which means I get on a plane on Wednesday, attend the Filmmaker Showcase on Wednesday, where "The Change-Up" will be aired on a live webcast, critiqued by "industry experts" and then I will be interviewed about the film.

I am beside myself with joy. This competition has meant so much to me and this is a life-changing moment. I'm glad you all were along for the ride.

But, be prepared. The final round of voting begins December 15th and goes only for a week, so look for more pleading around then to get us to $10,000.

I am humbled and blessed to be in the company of such amazing and supportive people.

As I await for Austin...

I didn’t know how much I wanted this – to win this contest. Now, with about 12 hours left, I am breathless. I’m pretty certain I’ll be leaving for Austin on Tuesday, with about $50 in my pocket so I guess I’m eating at McDonalds and Burger King while I’m there. Okay, the contest is not over yet and there is still the possibility that I will spend Wednesday doing what I usually do but I have faith that Austin awaits.

Why do I want this so much? Well, yes, the acknowledgment is wonderful. To have some success, even if it is through a vote-for-your-friends site, will be very fulfilling. To know my friends support me enough and care enough to be badgered and harassed and bugged daily to vote and then that they do vote humbles me in a way I can’t express. To have entered with 285 other competitors and made it to the top 5 is still stunning to me. It speaks to the quality of the product, the devotion of those who participated and, maybe, to my weirdly driven-ness.

This, though, culminates a journey that began just over two years ago at the opening night of “Lloyd’s Prayer.” My dearest Chairman said to me that night to stop giving away all the credit, to embrace that I am good at directing and to acknowledge it. That the reason “Lloyd’s” was so good was because of me, because of my vision and because of my talent. He and the others just expanded on that. I had never had anyone really say those words to me before – embrace and acknowledge that I am good at this. The men that I had loved in my life were never able to allow that to happen because if I acknowledged that part of me, it somehow diminished them.

That night opened my eyes to my gifts and to the fact that I had to do something with them or I was going to die. Literally die. Those words came at a time when I was quite literally on the verge of throwing it all away – my gifts, my abilities, my joy, my life. It hadn’t been very long before that that I had counted out the pills and contemplated giving it all up, just to make life easier. My heart so ached to be somebody, to achieve something, to have somebody be proud of me, to have somebody who allowed me the ability to play with my gifts and to have somebody open the door and let those gifts out.

I never realized that the person who kept those gifts locked away was me. I allowed this to happen, allowed others to make me feel as though my gifts, my dreams weren’t enough, weren’t right, weren’t of value. I allowed others to make me push my dreams to the back burner and ignore them. I allowed my talents to be diminished by those who could not discover and unleash their own gifts. I allowed them to almost break me.

Chairman’s words that night, though others had probably said the same thing at some point, finally broke through because I was on top of the world that night. I knew I had done something extraordinary, something precious and something amazing. I knew I had a cast like none that I would ever have again, that magic moment when everything comes together in perfection. And I knew that it was mine, it was me, it was where I was supposed to be. Destiny had arrived and I now had to choose what to do with it.

I thought that Chairman was the only voice speaking out at that time but, after that night, I began to hear that voice more and more, audibly and inaudibly. The fact that my “devoted psychopaths” continue to turn out to play with me on these ridiculously short time projects still humbles me to the core. But I also realize it means that they are echoing those words from Chairman – embrace and acknowledge your gifts. We’re here to help you with that. The fact that Ranger Smith and Madame H, two of the strongest writers I have ever worked with, keep wanting to hang out and eat funky food and blather endlessly about existential items and put words to paper echoes Chairman’s words. The support and encouragement I get from the ladies in the Career Success Group, who turn to me for mentoring and inspiration reflect those words so long and yet so short ago.

I changed in my life in June, 2005 so I could go out and find out if those words were true, that I had something worthy of acknowledgment, that I had something worth embracing, that I had something worth risking everything I already had to go and find. And even though the man who spoke those words to me on that night is now only on the fringes of my life, I will forever embrace him for saying the thing my heart had been crying out for. And for opening my ears to hearing those same words from others around me. And for helping me find a way to say, no, stop, I’m not going to let you diminish me anymore. I will not allow it. I am talented, I am gifted and it is wrong to not find a way to express it. So, good-bye, Susan Lee Johnson. That person is gone. I wonder sometimes who she even was.

When I arrive in Austin on Tuesday, it will be as Susan Lee, filmmaker, eccentric, moody, emotional, passionate, “weirdly driven”, focused and obsessed. I will be the Susan who woke up one night in 2005 to her friend saying the things that the one she loved would never utter. I will be the Susan that sees the path and is walking it with her head up high and the pleasure of some wonderful company walking the path with her. And I will take you all with me, in my heart and soul, and share it with you.

Vote, vote, vote, vote, vote, vote

We're #4 today. I'd like to be #3 or higher. Don't ask, it's just an obsession.

Please vote for The Change-Up at Famecast.com.

You know the drill. If you don't, register at Famecast, bookmark our page, then vote every day. That's it. That simple.

Please help send me to Austin next week. I promise a lovely blog filled with pictures.

Please help us to win $10,000 to finance "The Wraith."

Thanks for your continued support.

The week that was

Wow, been a tough, tough week.

Many tears shed, many emotions gone through.

But tonight, there will be celebrating.

"The Change-Up" is #1 at Famecast.com.

Number freaking one.

I had aimed to start in the top 5 in the top 5 round. Never imagined we would start at #1.

The rankings are not public but it's on my account page.

I am overwhelmed.

Packing for Austin!

Voting starts again today for "The Change-Up"

Voting begins again for “The Change-Up” on Famecast.com on Saturday, November 17th at 6 PM PST.

Here are some ways to make voting easier – remember, you can vote once a day – or just vote once. Every vote counts!

1. Register at http://www.famecast.com.

2. Follow directions on your confirmation email. If you don't get a confirmation email, go to Famecast.com and click on "Re-issue confirmation email."

3. Bookmark our page http://www.famecast.com/lifeonitssideproductions

4. Vote. Every single freaking day. It's that easy.

You can register and vote with more than one email account, if you're really bored at work.

Voting ends on Saturday, December 1st. Please support all the hard work of the cast and crew!

Struggles

It is a struggle to keep going in this direction when adversity seems determined to take away the joy of success.

I am heartsick today at the thought of losing this sanctuary where I have grown so far and so much. I am devastated by the challenge against my creative ability. I am rattled to the core of my being by these challenges. I like to think I’m strong and powerful and bigger than this but the truth is, I am not. I am crushed and wounded and aching and angry and all the things I cannot express.

I have lost so much that the potential loss of this is almost more than I can bear. I’ve lost the OOMA and his friendship, which devastates me still. I have lost my relationship of 20 years out of my own choice. I have lost independence in some ways. I have lost my singular existence. I have lost so very much. There have been many gains but sometimes, the losses overwhelm those gains and make it almost impossible to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

I have to do a meeting on Monday where I feel like I have to stand in front of these amazing women and try and motivate and inspire them at a moment when I am so far from inspired. I hope I can find the ways to do that because these women are part of the reason I do keep doing what I do. They inspire me.

I know I’ll recover, no matter what happens. I know I’ll go on and keep going because there is nothing else I can do. But right now, what I wouldn’t give for some simple peace, some simple time of not doubting myself and my abilities, someone to hold me close right now and assure me that everything’s going to be all right, fuck them, and we will go on.

Maybe that’s the toughest part of this recent – and past – struggles. No arms to hold me, no mouth to say those words then gently kiss me, make me feel safe and secure and comforted.

There is no comfort tonight. There may not be any to come for a very long time.

So I go on, because I don’t know what else to do.

New watercolor

Here's something I've been working on.

Enjoy.

And on the other hand

At a time when I should be celebrating the achievement of this latest endeavor, the creative quality of it and of my recent body of work is being challenged and called into question. Hard choices will be made in the morning. I just hope I am wrong.

Top 10 on Famecast.com!!!

"The Change-Up" has made it to the Top 10 on Famecast.com.

A huge congratulations to my writing team, Monica Hafer and David Smith, my cast, Peter Ross Stephens, Tricia Pierce, Kerr Seth Lordygan, and Erin Treanoer, and my incredible crew.

The next round of voting for the top 5 opens in six days, so look for some bugging from me 'round then.

In the meantime, thanks for your votes. You got us there, you can keep us there.

Luv. =)

Arms

All the affection from all of my friends cannot make up for the lack of a pair of arms belonging to a loved one to wrap me up and hold me and take the world from me for just a moment.

That’s what’s been pushing me into the depths recently, I think. I know I am loved. I know I have amazing friends in my life. I have this creative life I’ve always dreamed of. Yet there is a hollowness, an emptiness that no one can fill.

When I walked out of my old life, I knew I would miss things and be lonely and it would be hard.

But I didn’t think it would be this hard.

He has someone. Has had someone for some time. And had a few someones before her. He is happy, I guess. Happy after I took so much from him and I don’t begrudge him that. I left partly because I knew he was so unhappy and I could not find his happy for him. Or for me. He has the ordinary life he craved and that I could not provide. He has arms to hold him and care for him and take him in.

All the friends, all the joy, all the beauty cannot make up for the lack of those arms. As beautiful as my life is, as full as it is, there is a space around me that dies for those arms to wrap me up.

Cute Boy is fine for now but there is someone else to whom his arms belong. I have no right to intrude on that. I live for those moments of hello and good-bye when his strong arms wrap me up and give me, for one millisecond, the feeling of being loved, of being held by someone who loves me. Then his arms are gone and he is gone and his arms envelope the other woman in his life. I hope she knows what she has in those arms as they are quite lovely arms (sorry, watching “Notting Hill” and my prose has suddenly become English).

I had thought the OOMA would be the one to wrap me up but he has since left me as well, standing alone, looking at his shadow, wondering where he has gone. When I do see him on the rare occasion, his arms are cautious and distant, holding me off, keeping me away. I miss the warmth of his embrace, his eyes, his smile. But they are also on to some other muse, someone who is filling his thoughts for the moment, whoever that may be.

I crave that – the moment of intimacy that is there in a loving embrace. You can’t fake that. You cannot duplicate or copy or mimic the arms of one who loves you.

I have yet to find another pair. And at times like these, I am the saddest because I am afraid I will never feel that seductive, comforting, indescribable warmth again.

I guess whoever I am waiting for – whoever God is holding on to for me – must be someone terribly special, terribly perfect, to keep me waiting this long.

I just hope he has good arms.

Today

Frustrated.
Angry.
Disappointed.
Wounded.
Defensive.
Furious.
Despondent.
Isolated.
Hopeless.
Alone.
Exhausted.
Heartbroken.
Empty.
Pointless.

Your daily reminder - 10 days left to vote!

So I'm gonna bug the crap out of you for the next 10 days.

"The Change-Up" needs to be in the top 10 on Famecast.com and it won't get there without you. And your friends. And your pets. And your co-workers. The only way we're going to make it into the top 10 is to get more people to vote. So if you like this film - even if you don't like this film - please REPOST this and help us win $10,000.

Vote often, vote daily, vote on every email you have.

Click here to vote. It's that easy.

A new film - "One Bad Day"

So, last weekend, I had a little time on my hands, a willing writing team waiting and a wonderful cast and crew hoping to play with me on the National Film Challenge. Myself, Monica Hafer and David Smith spent some time at my favorite Italian restaurant (Georgios near Laurel Cayon, for you LA folks) and then at Dupars cobbling our script together - the genre being superhero. We shot Saturday night, I edited and put everything together Sunday and Monday and got it off in the mail. A 72 hour film instead of 48 but still was hard getting everything done on time.

So, enjoy this one. Also, remember you can now vote daily for "The Change-Up" at famecast.com/lifeonitssideproduction. We're currently in the top 25, help us make it into the top 10!

Now, for your viewing pleasure, One Bad Day.

"The Change-Up" makes top 25 at Famecast.com but still needs your vote.

One my short films, "The Change-Up", has made it into the top 10 at Famecast.com. How'd it get there? By people viewing the film and clicking on the little vote sign and showing their love.

How can we stay in the top 10? You know how. You need to vote at http://www.famecast.com/lifeonitssideproductions. Vote as often as once a day. Vote once a week if you can't remember every day. Let your friends know what a great short film this is and ask them to vote. Hey, here's an idea, REPOST THIS and help out not just me but the great actors in this film - Peter Ross Stephens, Kerr Lordygan, Tricia Pierce and Erin Treanor. A great crew who worked through the night and stayed to the bitter end to make sure we got everything we needed. A true team effort that deserves recognition. And the $10,000 prize at the end of it.

C'mon, you can do it. It's only 9:20 long. Also, just a warning, there's a bit of adult language so careful if you're watching at work or with kids nearby.

And, yes, I'm gonna keep bugging you. The only way to stay in the top 10 is to encourage you to vote often. So please do. Voting on this stage ends November 10th.

Thanks for your support on this project.

Top 25 at Famecast.com!

I am so very proud to announce that "The Change-Up" has made it into the top 25 at Famecast.com. Thanks to all of you who voted daily, weekly or once. We couldn't have made it this far without you.

That being said, you know what comes next. This is where the competition really heats up. If you can vote every day, you will help us make it into the top 10 and then the top 5 and then win $10,000. I promise one big-ass party when I win. You can now vote once a day per email. So I voted four times today. You can vote at least once!

In case I haven't mentioned it, this film would not have gone this far had it not been for the talent involved, in front of and behind the camera. My incredible actors - Kerr Lordygan, Erin Treanor, Tricia Pierce and Peter Ross Stephens. My great writing team, Monica Hafer and David Smith. My devoted psychopaths. And The Ark Theatre Company.

So vote at famecast.com/lifeonitssideproductions. Encourage your friends to vote. Encourage your dog to vote. Just vote!

Virtual fridge updated

Here is an updated slide show of my artwork. Haven't posted anything new for a while so enjoy.

Once Upon A Time... a very long time ago

Sometimes, I miss my old life. I miss the familiarity. I miss the sameness of the days, knowing what to expect, knowing how to plan for things. I miss the companionship, I miss the days when it was good and hopeful and beautiful.

I miss my apartment. It was beautiful, although over-stuffed and crowded. But it was home. I don’t have a home anymore. I have a room in a temporary home.

I miss the comforts of having a life with someone. I miss the limits, in a weird way, and someone to set boundaries with me. I know those boundaries almost killed me but I miss having a litmus test to bounce things off of.

I miss the person I married. Not who he became at the end, but the man I said yes to. I miss that hope, that anticipation of what we would do together.

I miss having a life that I knew. This life now is scary and empty and frighteningly open. I can’t see a future right now, it’s all so far away and unattainable. There is no comfort, no familiarity, no home. I’m drifting through a life I don’t understand and I am very afraid. But though there are arms out there to hold for a moment, there aren’t any here in the middle of the darkness and the fear. It’s just me. And I’m not sure I can make it through the darkness and the fear. Because the reward doesn’t seem worth it.

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The note

10/11/07

The note

I did not write a note the night I counted out the pills. I found I had nothing to say.

I could not say I was sorry because I was not. I was at the end of my rope and I did not know if there were any other options but this. I was not sorry to be killing myself because I was so numb and empty and void at that point, killing myself was going to be a relief. I was not sorry because I thought I had caused so much pain, so much trouble at this point that this would wipe the slate clean and there would be nothing to apologize for.

I could not ask for forgiveness because I wasn’t sure I deserved it. I had lied to my husband consistently about how bad our financial situation was. I had lied to him about the fact that I was no longer in love with him and had not been for some time. I had created so much tension in our house by being determined to do what I wanted to do, the things that made me feel so strong and so good, and that drove the space between us wider and wider. I had lied to my parents about money as well, causing them great hardship as they bailed me out over and over again. So much to forgive, no right to ask forgiveness.

I could not explain what I was doing because I didn’t understand it. There was nothing left. There was no emotion, no pain, no desperation. Just emptiness, just hollowness. How do I explain that I need that emptiness to end?

I could not blame him because he was not to blame for all of it. After all, I was convinced all of our problems were my fault so, therefore, the blame fell on me. I could not leave this life and say he made me do it. He did not make me do it. I chose to do it.

I couldn’t tell him that I loved him and that I was sorry to leave this way because I wasn’t. The only emotion I had was knowing that my death would cause him pain and I wanted to cause him pain. I wasn’t sorry to leave this way because there was no other way out. When I tried to walk out on him, he stalked me down the street, even when I stood in the middle of traffic, threatening to let a car hit me, he still stalked me. How do you leave that? This was the only way. And I could not lie to him any longer.

I thought about a note but there were not words to be said. Even now, I don’t know what I would have said. Maybe that’s why I didn’t do it. I needed to have words to say, something to leave behind, a reason other than the infliction of pain upon someone else. I could not find that reason, I could not articulate that reason. So the lack of a note maybe saved my life.

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Ten days to go on Famecast.com and we're still #9.

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Exception to the rule

I have allowed myself to be treated as unexceptional all my life. I knew I was smart. I knew I was able to do things more quickly and more effectively than most people. I knew I was different. That part was encouraged in my family. The “be proud of yourself, you don’t want to be like everyone else” kind of thinking. It felt supportive. It felt like approval.

My family related to each other through achievement. I saw my brother and sister bring home trophies and ribbons and awards and my parents embraced those and them and I knew that to bring home a trophy was to bring home love. I never did that. I never brought home a trophy. I never brought home love.

I chose different. I chose to be in a creative endeavor instead of an athletic one. It was uncharted territory. There weren’t trophies, there were performances. There weren’t games where I could score or skate or spike. There were songs and dances and moments. No one got it. No one understood it. No one valued it. It was nice, it was fun, it was… It wasn’t something you could put on a dresser and point at and say, “Wow, I did that.” You could point at the stage in the moment and, maybe later, at a review and say wow. But the love couldn’t be brought home and shared because there was nothing tangible to share.

I got mixed messages of value. My folks came and saw the shows they could and they always seemed proud. They have even made comments over the years about the fact that I’m an artist and a director and all of that. But without a common vocabulary, they have never given it a value. There has never been a discussion after a show or a film I’ve done as to what went into it or how much fun it was or how good it was. “That was fun,” is the closest thing I’ve gotten out of my mom. I’ve never gotten the list of what they liked or what was good or how excited they are about something new I’m doing. There’s never been discouragement. In fact, they’ve financed most of my creative endeavors, showing their support.

But just once, I’d love to hear about pride and acceptance and value in what I do. Because without it, I’ve spent my life thinking my gifts mean nothing. I married two men who supported that theory, seemingly threatened by my abilities, unable to give me the approval I so badly needed to really embrace the things I loved so much. I gave up dancing after my first divorce because I felt it had no value because it seemed to give him pain when he saw me do it well. He made a comment once that felt so familiar – I was warming up for a dance recital and he was watching me on pointe, standing next to another dancer. Instead of saying, “Wow, look what she can do!”, I got, “And she wonders why I won’t go out dancing with her.” My gifts had diminished him so, therefore, their value was diminished. Those words have haunted me all these years.

My second husband found every way possible to devalue my talents. Not surprising, considering that is what felt familiar. I was not talented, I was not exceptional, even though I had moments where I could see and feel the value and the gifts I had. I knew I was different, I was somehow more than I was allowed to feel. But I was always devalued by those around me, including a group of friends whose own ambitions have strangled them over the years.

I learned how to fight being exceptional. Spread the applause around. Don’t take credit for anything. Fit in. Don’t stand out. Praise was unfamiliar and difficult because it didn’t feel “normal.” I was never given praise so, therefore, I did not deserve it. My gifts were never given true value so, therefore, they must be worthless. I was different, I was not special.

These past couple of years have begun to teach me to find my own value. Recently, my work and my collaborations have allowed me to place value on what I do, without requiring outside approval, without needing someone to validate that value. Tonight, because of a growing body of work and working with collaborators who allow me to shine, I embrace the fact that I am exceptional. Not in an arrogant, oh, look at me, how exceptional am I, kind of way. Just that I know what I do is not something everyone can do. And I may never have the trophies and the ribbons and the accolades in print that my siblings had. And I accept that I will probably never have the validation from my parents that I so desperately seek. I accept that the only value I can get is what I myself put into what I do. I value my gifts. I treasure every single second that I get to do what I do so well and what I love to do. I accept that I am an exceptional director and writer in this town that so rewards mediocrity. It means that I am different and that is sometimes devalued because it doesn’t feel “right” or familiar. It’s different so, therefore, must be bad. But I will no longer allow this town or my family or outside influences convince me that what I do is not of value. It is valuable to me and that is the most important thing.

The icing on the cake is that I get to share that exceptional, valued, treasured piece of me with people of such extraordinary talent that they challenge me to prove my exceptionalness on a regular basis. They raise the bar, which is rewarding because it means there was a bar in the first place. They show me the value of my gifts without speaking every time they agree to work with me and show me how excited they are by what we do and what we achieve. They value me every day with their friendship and their collaboration. They value me without requiring a validation in return.

So your assignment for today is find that thing in your that is exceptional. Don’t run from it, don’t hide it, don’t fear it. To give in to mediocrity – whether it’s a job you hate or a relationship you know is over or a career that is not going where you want it to go – is to kill that exceptional soul and those exceptional gifts that reside in all of us. Find your exceptionalness and force the world to see it and embrace it. And if they don’t, fuck ‘em. Embrace it yourself and let mediocrity watch from the sidelines, belly-aching the whole time and wondering why it’s being left behind.

Oh, boy

The evil bitch in my head is waaay too loud today.

Today

I miss you. Terribly. Wish you were here. But you're not.

Please vote for The Change-Up and keep us in the top 50!

Okay, so we were hanging out at #8 in the top 50 but we've now dropped to #11 at Famecast.com.

Please support all the hard work that the cast and crew did on "The Change-Up", a 48 Hour Film Project directed by myself, written by Monica Hafer and David Smith and featuring a cast of Peter Ross Stephens, Kerr Seth Lordygan, Tricia Pierce and Erin Treanor.

if we make it through all the levels (there are several more after this), it is a $10,000 prize, which would be used to finance my next feature.

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Cinderella screening and pics are up!

So, this week, I had two screenings of "Cinderella Drives A Pick-Up." Pictures are here:

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=9afd3ld.6t6z7dn5&x=1&y=kyzr6a More photos to follow, thanks to Monica.

The first was at the Ark Theatre Company and so many people turned out to watch it. I was overwhelmed that not only did the cast and crew show up but so many other people I hadn’t really expected to come out. It was such a pleasure to look out and see all the love and support from the audience. And my mom came, which was – there just aren’t words for what it was. I had a speech prepared and did pretty good on it until I reached Chairman, then I lost it as I thought about everything he did for me during this production – giving me a room in his condo when my life got too crazy, his quiet support and respect, just his friendship seeing me through all the personal crap I was going through. I lost it even more in talking about my mother and my father. My father is too weak to make any of these screenings. I wish he could have been there. I wanted to finish this film before he leaves us and I wanted him to know that it was his spirit that I am so grateful I inherited. Even now, I am tearing up thinking about everything my parents have done so that I can live this amazing life I have.

Friday night, a more casual screening was held at Peter Ross’ cool apartment. Smaller group this time, maybe a dozen. But again, so pleased so many showed up and everyone could not have been more supportive. Showed a couple of blooper reels beforehand. Hung out on Peter’s roof until 2:30 in the morning.

What was so special about these screenings was how this film could have never been made in my previous life. I almost didn’t make it through my speech because when I think about how many people contributed to getting this film made, not just as cast and crew but as friends and support system, it is overwhelming. This film represents how far I have come professionally and personally, how much my new life is exactly the life I should be living. It represents a huge step forward for me and the true beginning of leaving so many things behind. It is the beginning of a career that scares the shit out of me and, at the same time, excites me to no end.

So, here’s a list of thank you’s, some of which you may have heard, some of which you may not have:

My girls – Patty, Monica and Zadra in particular, the women of the Ark in general and my other female friends as well – you all have inspired me and motivated me and blessed me with your grace and your support. You each have given me so much in being willing to come out and play when I need it. You are part of the female collective that usually are so bitchy and angry and competitive, but you are not. You are strong, powerful women who I am humbled to be in the presence of.

And my boys – Peter, AJ, Erin, Dave and those other men who also come out and play – you guys give me hope in the male of the species, you are all so giving and warm and can make me feel like a million with just a word. You each take my heart with you and you each have filled my heart on a regular basis.

The Ark Theater Company and Dick Tatum and Paul Wagar – my house and my home and my creative heart. I would not be where I am without a safe place to play and wondrous actors to play with.

Chris – there aren’t words.

Mom, Dad and Cindy – there would be no life to live without you. You are my inspiration and my gifts.

There will be many more projects (already have been) and much more of this brand new creative life to celebrate and share but this one project will always be special and pure to me.

Thank you. With all my heart.

"The Change-Up" makes the top 50 on famecast.com

I am thrilled to announce that "The Change-Up" made the top 50 at Famecast.com. Please make sure you vote again, please encourage your family and loved ones (and not even not so loved ones) to register and vote for us. Check it out at:

http://www.famecast.com/lifeonitssideproductions.

Let's make it to the Top 25 but we can't do it without you!

Thanks for the support and the votes.

Last chance to vote for "The Change-Up."

Voting at famecast.com ends at 9AM LA time so, if you haven't cast your vote for "The Change-Up" yet, please do so right now! Go! Now! Quickly! http://www.famecast.com/lifeonitssideproductions.

Have you gone yet?

Right now, at 3:26 AM, we're holding on at 16 out of 287. No matter where we end up, I'm very, very proud of this piece and that we maintained this level throughout.

The goal is to stay in the top 50 to get into the next round. Then you all get to vote again. We're aiming for $10,000 since I have a new film to shoot soon.

Thanks for your support.

Wanton heart

My heart
wants to go
where I cannot
allow it to go.
It is like a child
wanton
reckless
occasionally stupid.
I have to
wrap both hands
around it
to keep it here
and not let it
get away
again
and waste
more precious time
waiting
wanting
wondering
only to be ignored
and left
to cry
and break.

Educating Susan

I’ve been watching “Educating Rita” this morning and, needless to say, it resonated with me.

“And I thought, "Yeah, that's what I'm trying to do, isn't it? Sing a better song.”

And I have been singing better songs for a while now.

It hit me how far removed from my old life I have become in such a short time the other night, chatting with an acquaintence from my former life. She remarked on my artwork, remarked on my talent and then said, “You should have a manager.” I was touched, thinking she meant that my art was that good. “I mean,” she continued, “you have so many talents. It’d be great if you could just find someone to help you focus your talents on something.” My response? “Like my directing career.” “Yes,” she continued, “but really help you focus and get moving forward in one direction on something.” “Like my directing career.” “Yes, but find something that you can focus on that expresses your creativity and can move you forward in something.” “Like my directing career? Like the feature I have premiering next week and the three short films I’ve made.” “Yes, but…” And she continued to insist that I need focus. That I need focus. That I NEED FOCUS. I stopped short of either braying with laughter or smacking her in the head.

When I stand up before the capacity audience (okay, so it’s about 40 people) at the Ark next week, screening my first major work, “Cinderella Drives A Pick-Up,” I will stand up there and sing a new song. I will sing my own song, a tune of my own making, a song that only I have written. Sure, there were collaborators on the way who helped with some of the notes or some of the phrasing, but it is my own song. I will stand in front of those people – friends, family, collaborators, support group – and I will stand on my own two feet, no appendage supporting me, although more support than I have ever had in my life. But it will be me. Just me. Flaws, perfection, angst, and joy all rolled into one. And every frame that is on that screen, for better or worse, will be mine.

I am beginning to own my life. I know I’m a long way from truly owning it and maybe that’s why I’m still single. I don’t think I can share my life until I can truly own it. It’s hard because there are times when the loneliness runs very deep. Like when Cute Boy says good night to me and hugs me close then his arm lingers around my waist a moment longer before he lets go and it makes me want to just lean into him and have him hold me and … just hold me. But even if he could, I’m not sure I am ready. I don’t want to chance losing all that I have struggled for on a whim and throwing everything away just to be held close.

I will stand up next week, in front of Cute Boy and the OOMA and all those others who supported me and those who maybe tried to support me in my former life, and it will be the beginning of a new life for me, in that single night. This is the culmination of all of my struggles and all of my passion and all of my heart and my hurt and my anger and my pain and my desire and my everything. It is an achievement I never, ever thought possible and that my ex almost had me convinced was not possible. But Tuesday night, that possibility will come to reality and, for better or worse, it will be my reality.

I did this. I left a life that was killing me. I started a new life – blindly and naively and painfully. I tackled a career that is impossible, partly because of the career itself, partly because of being a woman of a certain age, partly because it’s just impossible to actually be that tiny percentage that actually succeed. I left behind almost everybody who I thought was important to me, although a few of them still linger around the edges. I walked away from the person I had become, a person I did not like, a person who was no one and sought to create a new persona, someone I would like, someone who was a person, someone fully formed.

I tried to make that person someone that the OOMA would want and embrace and love. I tried to make that person someone that those around me would respect and reflect what they told me they saw when they looked at me. I tried to make that person someone I am not because I did not know who I am. I tried to be what I thought I was supposed to be. And I ended up creating the same potentially disastrous illusion I had created during my marriage. I created someone who was not real and not true and not me.

On Tuesday, I will finally stand before all of you as the beginning of the real Susan. I am finding the truth of the soul who lives inside of me. That truth is a soul who is confident and wounded, who is wildly passionate and cautious, who loves without thinking and wants without understanding, who knows now what she is good at and what she is not good at, who is beginning to not need the hand-holding and babying of “is this good? Please tell me it’s good.”

I know that this is good. That this song is the song I should be singing. And I know it is a better song.

Clarity-ish

I cannot decide whether I love or hate days like today, days when I feel like I get my life. I just get it. I understand my past, I understand why my life has been the way it’s been. I understand the choices I’ve made, what worked and didn’t work and why. I can see the things in front of me that I need to avoid and change and accept and all of that. It’s the days when I think I can find a better use for my $75 a week than spending it on a therapist.

One thing I know today and am very clear on – I am going to be alone for a long time. Not because I’m unattractive or not desirable or anything like that. I am not ready to be devastated by a relationship again. And it will happen. No matter what, I no longer believe that I will be with someone forever or for the rest of my life or any of those things. I have had two great loves in my life. The first one was pure and true and real and passionate and painful and horrible and amazing and all-encompassing and one that I will compare the rest of my loves to. It was devastating when he ended it and walked away from me. I thought I’d never get over it. I was about 25. The second one was not so passionate but symbiotic and romantic and difficult and challenging and brutal and loving and committed and suffocating. It was devastating when I ended it. I know I’ll never get over it, despite it being my choice.

I don’t think that I don’t desire an amazing rest-of-my-life type of romance. I just don’t think it’s out there, that I want to have it. I don’t know that I can give of myself that way again because even just the thisclose on-off, what the fuck is it, unrequited whatever the hell it was with the OOMA was devastating enough. And we never slept together. We never even kissed other than in that friendly quick peck sort of way. But my heart is still suffering from him pulling away and I don’t think I ever want to hurt deeper than that, harder than that, hurt the way you do when you love someone so much and you lose them. I don’t think I can do that ever again.

I closed out my accounts on Match.com and OKCupid today for that reason. I signed on to them because everyone else did and it seemed to be the thing to do. But I found myself, time after time, signing on, checking out the supposed “matches” to my profile and just thought, wow, this is sad. These guys suck. That’s it. Plain and simple. They suck. They lie, they hide, they can’t spell and wouldn’t know a comma if it hit them in the crotch. This is definitely not where I’m going to find someone to hold me and support me and make me feel the way I want someone to make me feel. So why am I wasting even 10 minutes a week looking at these guys? It’s not what I want. So I closed the accounts because it’s not who I am.

Another thing I know is that I am a force to be reckoned with and this is the time of my life when I am to find that. I am in the highest creative time I have ever had in my life. I have discovered parts of me I didn’t know existed. This has made me more powerful and more intense as a result. And I like that.

I also know that I am not what men want and, for today, I’m fine with that. Oh, they want me because I am strong and powerful and can show them how to be strong and powerful but they don’t want to be with me as anything more than a friend because I am something more than they can handle. They want someone to stand behind them and not outshine them. They want someone who will be home for them and not be out making wondrous things happen. They say they do, they think they do but, in reality, they don’t. They’re happy to be in my orbit, take what they can from me, and then leave me there when they’ve gotten all they can and take their toys and go home.

I know I will not give to anyone again the way I have because I don’t want to risk that part of me anymore. I am hardened and bitter and guarded and I know that will not change. That will leave me alone, without someone at my side, because I won’t allow that part of myself to be put out there again.

I know that this will be true until I get through all the crap that I understand today and can see today and can process today but that will rear its ugly head tomorrow, making me wonder and worry and fret when I don’t see it so clearly. Until I can embrace the past, the issues, the pain, the hurt, the anger, I will not be able to let anyone else in. And that’s sad.

But I also know my life is so incredibly full and all I have to do is reach a hand out and six hands come reaching back to me. It’s getting easier and easier to reach that hand out and know someone will grab it. It’s getting easier and easier to be real and honest and know my friends accept that in me. That keeps a part of me open and accessible and gives me hope that some day the rest of me might get there.

But today, I am not holding my breath. I am clear, I am understanding and I am accepting.

But who knows what tomorrow will bring?

And then I find this:

Struggling with some things today. But stumbled across this as I was searching for mealtime prayers for the Ark film comedy script. Boy, I hate it when the universe reminds me what I have to be grateful for. But I am grateful and this pretty much says it all.


Thank You for My Life

Dear God, thank you for my life on this earth, however challenging or not.

Thank you for giving me free will to love and be loved, to make my own decisions, to learn from my mistakes, to laugh when I am happy, to cry when I am sad.

Thank you for my family, my friends, my pets, my colleagues, and for every other living creature I meet along my journey.

Thank you for giving me strength to overcome adversity, to do what's right for the benefit of the greater good, to rise above negativity.

Thank you for giving me hope for an end to world suffering, pain, and war, for a beginning of a world filled with light and everlasting love.

(Debbie Gisonni)

So share it, say it, pass it along and remember why you should be grateful for your life today.

I am in that mood again.

I hate that I miss you still. That you’re still in my mind every day. And that you don’t give me another thought. I hate that I cannot free myself of you, no matter how hard I try. I hate that you have vanished out of my life, without a word, just hovering enough on the edges to remind me that you are there and to keep you ever present. I hate that I cannot make myself just leave you out of my life entirely and that I am still drawn to you, unconsciously, waiting, wanting, never having. Knowing it’s ridiculous, knowing it’s absurd, knowing there will never be anything there. Because there isn’t anything there at all now. I hate that I feel like it’s my fault you’re gone and that I drove you away, when I know so much of it was you choosing to leave me behind. And I hate that you left me behind without explanation or acknowledgement. And I hate that I still miss you every single day.

Vote for "The Change-Up" on Famecast.com

FameCast is the first online competition to find America's top talent in Rock, Pop, Hip Hop/R&B, Singer-Songwriter, Comedy, Electronic, Spiritual, Country, Latin, Dance, Spoken Word and Film & Animation.

I have submitted "The Change-Up" into competition but -- this is where you come in -- you have to vote for it for the film to get into the top 50. The top 50 contestants then get narrowed down to the top 10 and then the competition heats up.



My friend, Richard B., just had a film that was made out of his short story win $10,000!

So go to www.famecast.com, search for Life On Its Side Productions (the link directly to "The Change-Up" is not active yet but I'll post it when it is), and then view and vote! Please forward this to your friends and loved ones and ask them nicely or tell them not politely to VOTE FOR "THE CHANGE-UP."

Thanks!

Okay, bring it on.

Lindsay W. recommended this astrology site to me a long time ago and I've just recently started checking it out again. The horoscope for August was uncanny. The horoscope for September holds amazingly accurate things, things I can actually see happening. However, this one tidbit better come true!

"There's one more reason to anticipate the very best when it comes to romance. Venus has been traveling through your love sector in weak and sleepy retrograde mode, but will awaken and become lively from September 8 onward. Until Venus leaves your true love sector on October 8, you will have a full four weeks of bewitching fun. Dear Aries, for the first time in such a long time, you have the right conditions to allow love to bloom. Don't let old disappointments color your expectations. You are looking at a whole new situation - I promise!
Romance will be best: September 3, 8, 13, 21, 22, 27 (wild card). "

So, should I hold my breath since, starting today, romance is apparenlty going to be swarming over me. We'll see.

One of those days... in a good way...

I’ve been struggling lately with just figuring out life – past, present, future. Trying to figure out who I am, what I am, why I’m alone, what is the purpose of everything, feeling stunted creatively, emotionally, personally.

Then there are days like today. Nothing big, nothing major, just simple. The kind of simple I’d like my days to be.

Wake up way too early (probably the worst part of the day) to finish transcription work for my client. Take Mom to run some errands.

Then the best part – go to the studio early to hang out at the coffee shop next door and write. I’ve been stuck on this new script I’m working on with Ranger Smith and Madame H. They gave me a lot of great input yesterday and the short amount of sleep I had must have been just enough to let it settle in. I woke this morning with confidence that I could tackle this script and get it into shape. I have always believed in what we came up with for it but I feel like I haven’t been able to get a grip on the “spine” of the story – what holds the whole script together. I wrote like a demon, almost angry when I had to stop and go to work.

Only had one class today. A bit of a tough one, some challenging kids. But then again, a tough day teaching art to kids beats the shit out of a hard day at practically any other job.

Dashed home. Met with Ranger Smith and Madame H. for a brief but productive hour. Then had to leave to pick up my car way the fuck out in Valencia.

Ranger Smith drove. We sang car karaoke to his little MP3 player (sorry, not an Ipod, don’t really care what it is). Laughed at his “guilty” song choices. Sang out hearts out at the top of our lungs. That was the moment, after battling traffic that shouldn’t have been there, listening to Ranger Smith creatively cuss up a storm, when we were just singing “Your Song”, traveling on the open freeway, beautiful clean, clear air blowing into the car, that was when I thought, to quote Keith Urban, these are the days that we’ll remember.

This simple, easy evening with a new, quickly becoming dear friend goes into the file with CL sitting in my kitchen (in m old life) playing my guitar, everything about that wonderful trip to Vegas with Chairman, chocolate deliciousness concocted by AJ on Valentine’s Day. Those moments that make me know I made the right choice, I made the right life by moving forward. The big moments are easy, it’s the little moments like this that are hard to find. I guess these moments are associated with the precious men in my life because they seem to have been able to create those moments that the man who should have been precious to me became until to create. They make me feel unconditionally loved and cared for, without fanfare, without crying out “look how much I love you.” It is an affectionate love that comes from simple, organic, intimate friendship when both parties are not trying to be anything but two people, living in the moment, just being friends, just being close. You can’t create those moments, you can’t demand that they exist.

I think the end of my marriage began to exist with forced moments. Both of us trying to do what we thought was right for the other, trying to regain that intimacy that had once been there before we became aware of the struggle to find it. He always overthought the organic moments, turning them into what you’re supposed to do instead of what you wanted to do.

And I treasure those real, true, intimate moments that I have had with these amazing men, who are completely unaware how delicate those moments are to me, because to them, I’m sure, they are just moments. Not special, not thought out, just them sharing a brief moment of themselves with me, without thought, without agenda, without plan.

And these moments remind me that love comes in all shapes and sizes and types. While I am seeking a deeper, connected, intimate love, it’s nice to have the universe show me that there is much love surrounding me all the time, if I could just open my eyes, shut off my agenda, and just enjoy the pleasure of the company of the wondrous and glorious men in my life.

So, for tonight, thank you, God, the universe, Buddha, whoever you are that keeps putting these lovely, darling, charming, funny, entertaining, loveable men in my path.

While they make me crazy sometimes – and while I have lost a few of them along the way – I am glad you decided that I needed to have them there, that my heart needed that brief moment of affection and glad that you decided to provide that for me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Just too...

Trying to write on the new film for the Ark Theatre but just can’t seem to get the brain going in the comedy direction tonight. Had a great lunch/coffee meeting with the fabulous Madame H, sans our partner-in-crime, Ranger Smith, on this script and was hoping to take advantage of that creative energy but the heat and the clowns seemed to have sucked all of that right out of me. Which may explain why I am totally sucked into Justin Timberlake on HBO.

There are so many things in my head that the heat has stuck to the top of my mind so maybe I can get rid of some of it here.

My ex. He seems to have happily moved on with his life, has a girlfriend of about one year. I can’t help but wonder if he treats her better than he treated me. Of course he probably does. I thought he treated me great when we were first together. Will he continue the cycle of abuse and attack her in the years to come or was that just a treat for me? Was my personality why he became so abusive to me? Is that possible? I guess so because someone stronger would have been able to stop the abuse before it got to the suicidal point. Is she that strong? Will she be that strong 20 years from now? Or has he learned?

I am so angry about him and with him because there will never be the confrontation where I get to say, you hurt me and scarred me and damaged me in such a way that I don’t think I will ever be able to truly love someone again. You shattered me, you devastated me. You took no responsibility for the damage, just let me lay there, bleeding inside, broken and mangled, and told me it was my fault. You had nothing to do with the way I felt and the way I reacted. I never really got the chance to say, FUCK YOU! You need to stand up and grow some balls and say, “You know what, I was wrong. I treated you horribly and I discounted your feelings and your heart. I hurt you in a way I never meant to because I never understood my own feelings and my abusive upbringing.” I’ll never get that closure and that resolution. I’ll just stand by and watch from a distance as you happily move past me – the one you said you could never live without. And I am angry because you never fought for me. Not in all the counseling sessions where I tried to reach out to you, where I tried to figure out how I could not leave you. Not when I was almost dead and ready to die for you, to make you happy, to kill the things in me that made me fly, even then, you never fought for me. When I told you I was through, you said okay. You never chased me. You never reached out and said you missed me. I guess you were through, too, and just weren’t ready to admit it until I made that decision. It hurts that you didn’t fight for me. We were together almost 20 years and you let me go without a fuss. Deep down, that makes me feel like I meant so much less to you than I thought I did. I was not worth fighting for.

And you, who I should be past, who I should not care about anymore, who I should just let the fuck go. You, who I can still feel in my heart, despite wanting not to. I can’t figure out how to get you out of my system, even though you have chosen to remove yourself so far from my life. Again, I am feeling unresolved, unspoken feelings. What was I to you for that time? Was it just me? Was I the only one who felt what was there? You never told me, you will never tell me. You didn’t want me so you walked away from me, without a word, without a sound, leaving me to wonder where we are, who we are. Are we still friends? You’re in every frame of my new life. I want to scream at you, rail at you, for hurting me so much yet pretending you don’t see it. You broke our friendship and you broke my heart and, yet, you stand there, unscathed, unaffected, untouched by my hurt, my pain.

And Cute Boy, so unattainable yet so… there. Do I want you simply because you’re there and I can’t have you? Do I want you just because I want someone and you’re cute and funny and in my orbit? I see so many things in you that I don’t really want in someone, yet I can’t help but find myself drawn to you and your talent and your warmth. I hope you don’t see it and that I can hide it until I find someone else to focus my attention on because, otherwise, I’ll be in the same place I am right now, wanting, needing but unable to touch.

And my first ex. Okay, I know you read this so I’m torn between being totally honest and being delicate. And I’m not sure what reaction I will get fro you if I write honestly about what I’m feeling. I’d say stop reading here if you don’t want the honest truth but I know no human being can stop reading when they see that phrase so let’s see how honest I can be, knowing you’re still reading. I am confused by your return in my life. I have often wondered about you and where you are and what has happened in the past 20 years since you left me. I am uncertain how I feel about you being in touch with me. I’m not even sure how much I want to tell you about my life, although this blog has pretty much laid my life open before you. However, you have not been in my life for 20 years so the me that writes this is not the same naïve, innocent, wide-open 25 year old who left Canada all those years ago, her broken heart and her few possessions packed in her Volkswagen. And I know nothing about your life with the girl (in my mind, she’s still a girl) you left me for all those years ago, breaking my heart, destroying my life, shattering all the dreams I had for you and me. Sometimes, I hope your life has been miserable and that she turned out to be horrible and awful and that your marriage is a sham and you’re ready to pack your bags and leave her behind, just like you left me. I wonder if you’ve strayed from her and if you ever strayed from me in the short time we were together. Sometimes, I hope your life has been full and happy and everything you wanted it to be when you left me, as you obviously couldn’t find what you wanted with me. I hope your beautiful children have been the blessing in your life that I never had in mine. But sometimes I hope you suffer excruciating pain in your heart, despite my best intentions at wanting you to be happy.

I guess it comes down to the fact that I am feeling unloved and undesirable and unwanted. I feel like I’m carrying this huge pile of baggage that make men run when they see me coming. They love and respond to the fact that I am driven (“weirdly driven”, thank you, Ranger Smith) and focused and have laser-sharp intensity but they don’t want that in their life. Or they are disappointed when they discover the wounded soul underneath that laser stare. And they want the easy ones, the easy life. The ones who only want them, who only need them to be there to be whole. I wish I could be that person. I tried to be that person. But that only drove me to count pills and want to leave everything behind.

I can’t be that person, yet I am not sure that this person I am and I am becoming is one who is going to find that other half, that man who can take all my intensity and all my baggage and all my “too-much-ness” and not make me feel that I am lacking, that I am not worth fighting for, that I am not worth being with when they’re afraid of me. I’m afraid I’m going to be this person the rest of my life – this driven, incredible, talented, amazing woman everyone seems to see me as – yet empty and alone and devastatingly sad, having no one to hold, no one whose hand to take, having a single bed as my life grows and blossoms and becomes the thing I’ve always wanted – at least half of what I’ve always wanted. How is this life complete without someone to share it with? Not someone give it up to, not give it away to, but to put out my hand and say, come with me on this amazing journey ahead. Don’t be afraid, I won’t let go of your hand and I want you to hang on to mine with strength and love and power. There will be times when I lead us on this journey but there will be many times when I will want to be led. I don’t need a leash but I need a guide, someone to walk the path with me, explore the caverns and the vistas and the dry lands and the marshlands and the fjords and the glaciers with me. I need someone brave enough to show me their tender underbelly and trust that I won’t gut them with my anger and bitterness and mistrust and hurt. Someone to be as open and wanting and needing as I am, so we won’t have that want and need anymore, except for each other.

Gee, I wonder why I can’t write comedy tonight.

Fools, we two...

(or maybe just me)


We fooled ourselves
right out of a friendship.
Looked right at each other
and pretended we didn’t see what was there
and left it all behind.
And now
there’s nothing left
except
uncomfortable silences
awkward greetings
and empty spaces
between us.
And it makes me sorry
for what we had
what we lost
what we may never
find again.
And it makes me
miss you
miss me
miss us
together
because
you still have my heart
despite not wanting it,
you haven’t given it back yet.
So we continue
to be fools,
moving on,
moving past,
moving through,
without ever acknowledging
what made us fools
in the first place.

My favorite still life

I did this a week or two ago and just got around to scanning it in. I'm so proud of this one. It's one of those milestones we have in training, where you see everyone doing this and when you get there, it's another level you've achieved. I love this one, did I mention that? It makes me feel like an artist, like I know what I'm doing. If nothing else, this job has given me that gift, the gift of opening up my artistic potential.

Enjoy.

Every breath I take...

Just got back from the LA Free Clinic (god bless them). Been struggling lately with my quarterly bronchial infection.

Well, the good news is all my drugs and the visit was free. I'll have enough stuff to keep me breathing for probably 3-4 months.

The frightening news was that I am currently breathing at 60% of my lung capacity. The biggest change in my life over the past year (asked the doctor), my mother and her cigarette smoking. Big surprise, she's not supposed to smoke in the house or around me but she's in denial and blaming my lack of air on Twyla.

Oh, well, such is life. I guess she'll stop when they put me on oxygen.

Until then, I guess I can stick my head out of the window at home and lock her out of the car when she smokes.

Don't box me in.

These are the days when I feel like I don’t need therapy, I don’t need this blog, I don’t need any advice on finding myself because I have found myself. It is the kind of day where I know I am multi-faceted and hard to define and someone who cannot be summed up in a single sentence and I’m fine with that. After all, the people I love in my life cannot be defined in a single sentence. I can try: Chairman – generous, charming, funny, sweet, talented, gifted – but that doesn’t really describe the person who is Chairman; Monica – silly, twisted, dark yet not, smart, funny, clever – but that doesn’t get to the soul of Monica. I could go on but you get it.

The times I struggle the most and am the most depressed are the times I feel like I have to fit myself into a box. Not just a box but a box whose size I don’t know, whose shape I don’t know, that is too small and too cramped and too limiting to actually cram myself in there. Most of the time, the box is created by someone else and I figure I have to stuff myself into it to be loved by them. Sometimes, it’s a box I create myself with that person’s name on it, maybe figuring I’ll mail myself to them when I finally manage to cram myself into it, I don’t know. Sometimes it’s the size of a shoebox, sometimes it’s a refrigerator carton. Doesn’t matter, the box is still too small.

It may come from never having that box defined when I was younger. Being the youngest in the family of over-achievers, there were no restrictions put on me, no definitions put on me, which seems like it’s amazing. But it’s crippling because there never seemed to be any real value to what I was doing because no one was invested enough in it to make me feel that it was as exceptional as what my other siblings were doing. Everything was “fine” so I went through most of my life being “fine.” Nothing bad, nothing good, just “fine.”

So when I met my first husband and married him, I tried to figure out what box that meant I should put myself in. He wanted to be a chef and run an elegant restaurant and be the host with me at his side. That sounded great. He’d run the place, I’d be at his side, beaming like the trophy wife I think I expected to be. I’d be Mrs. TSS and that was “fine.” Maybe eventually I’d have my own dance studio because I loved dancing and teaching and I was very good at it. But, in my head, I was just “fine.” I’d be better putting myself into the role of Mrs. TSS and making sure he excelled. That was the box I gave myself. But he escaped out of his own box before I could even see what size mine was and maybe that was a good thing.

I got trapped in a very tiny box at the end of my second marriage. It started out quite huge and seemed to be a box that fit. Mrs. RMJ. That was me. We were a team, if one of us succeeded, the other one would. I think maybe we stuffed both of ourselves into the same box and then ran out of air. I fought to break the top off the box and see what was outside, he wanted to duct tape the box closed with both of us inside. It took me a long time but I broke through that top and found myself falling a very long way to the table outside of that box.

I constantly want to be what you want me to be. And yet, confining myself makes me lose myself. The more I am free to explore and escape and climb and search and tunnel and swing and dig, the more I am me. Some people are comfortable in that box, some people crave that box. Some people aren’t even aware they’re in a box yet I can see it surrounding them, even though they can’t. Those are the ones I want to tear the top off of their boxes and reach down and pull them out. But I digress. I can only deal with my own box, not yours. Sorry if you’re stuck, you gotta want to get out before I can help.

The hardest thing is avoiding climbing into that box. I want to do it because it makes it easier sometimes. I think, “If I’m this, then this is what will happen.” And it doesn’t. Then I’m angry and depressed and frustrated because then I don’t know what box I should be in.

Some of us defy boxes. Some of us cannot be confined in such a finite way. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be happy if you’ve found a box that fits and is comfortable and you can do laps in. Those are good boxes. But some of us just want to float free and avoid being sealed in. We are too big for boxes, we are too restless to be locked in, we are too big to put a top on. You’ve got to let us be free. I have to let myself be free.

It sounds easy. Just be. Be who you are. Be what you are. But without letting myself accept that I cannot be one thing, I can never just be. Until I can feel like this every day, where I know my need to be unfettered is not flakiness but what makes me stable, my avoidance of boxes is not an aberration but an embracing of my nature, my complexity is the truth and simplicity can come from it, until I can feel like that always, just being is impossible.

So for today, I’ll just be. I’ll be complex. I’ll be artistic. I’ll be a teacher and a director and a writer and a woman and a girl and a dame and a producer and a daughter and a divorcee (twice over) and a glamour girl and a tom boy and a difficult woman and a nurturing woman and a… you fill in the blanks because I’m done trying to.

Anatomy of a new life

08/14/07

Anatomy of a new life

Two years ago, I ventured into this new life. I blew into it, screaming “yippee” at the top of my lungs. No more controlling husband. No more anger and bitterness and fighting and just pure moments of hatred between us. I was free. Yee-ha.

And I leapt into my new life with both feet, never looking back. Okay, maybe peeking back occasionally. I had a new roomie, I had a new home, I had a new life. What’s not to love? I went to Vegas with someone I adore, had the best time I’ve ever had in Sin City. Jumped into my first 48 Hour Film and “Cinderella.” I thought I owned the world. I had found and embraced my destiny – even had it tattooed on my left wrist. Fuck you, ex-hubbie, and the control freak horse you rode in it! I rule! I lost my heart to someone, hopeful that he would find it and bring it back to me, making me realize I could let that organ out again to play. It was an amazing year. I thought the rest of my life would be this fun-filled, slightly disorienting ride.

Then, about a year ago, reality crashed in. Moved into a temporary place, my father’s health took a nosedive, my heart was not returned to me but left lying on the floor, ignored and abandoned. The loss of my marriage began to hit me, crippling me, making me doubt that I had made the right choice. I had the same amazing friends surrounding me but I began to realize the friends that had chosen to be left behind, that simply dropped out of my life, whether by design, by choice or simply by life, it was not important. That they weren’t there was. I began to wonder what the hell I had done. Yeah, sure, living this insane, unconventional, creative life has its benefits but it also has its detriments. There is no footing, there is no surety, there is no balance sometimes. And the person I had hoped would be there – who had been there at the start – was not there anymore and I felt abandoned and alone again, grieving for something that should have been, could have been, would have been, but never was.

I have sleepwalked through the last year of my life. Sure, on the surface, I was there, I was moving, I was present. But my soul and my spirit were not. They were off somewhere, trying to regroup and reform. I was in a haze, moving forward because there was no other choice but to do so. But I couldn’t see the path anymore. I became slowly but surely sucked into the abyss, being pulled down by those stupid clowns, convinced that I was going to be alone, moderately successful but never to the level I wanted to be, and always left standing by the side of the road, waiting, wanting, craving, but never having.

I hadn’t dealt with my feelings about my marriage or its end. I hadn’t dealt with things left over from my childhood that led me to choosing both of my ex’s. I hadn’t dealt with a lot of things and now they were kicking my ass. Once again, I found myself ready to give in and give up. RMJ was right. I was a failure. I would be nothing without him. I had made the biggest mistake of my life. And my friends knew it. It wouldn’t be long before they left, too.

A very dark night a few months ago – as well as a very angry email from someone who loves me – made me stop. I had come very close to once again throwing in the literal towel and this time, instead of a bottle of pills, it was going to be the freeway divider at midnight at 80 mph. Seemed somehow poetic to die by freeway at midnight near downtown LA. I’d make the news.

But I made it home. Barely. I read this email from my friend and it really sunk in. I was in serious trouble and it wasn’t going to get better by avoiding it. I had worked too hard for my life to throw it away. I thought I had put my marriage behind me but I hadn’t. I had just put it in a box and hid it away, hoping to never look at it again. That’s what my family does. Put things away, don’t ever look at them again.

I have returned to my therapist. I have finally begun to really deal with why I chose both my ex’s, why I feel alone and abandoned, why I feel like I don’t deserve anything in my life. I thought that by now, I would be past him and me and us and 18 years and asking why. But I’m not. I think I’ve only begun to ask the really important questions. The answers are not easy and the questions are terrifying. But at least there are answers and I think finally, after two years, the healing has begun.

Hard to beat...

Coming home tonight from the Ark, driving over the Sepulveda pass, no traffic (miracle!), Bob Seger's "Hollywood Nights" blasting out of my brand spanking new black Ipod on my decent stereo in my POS Hyundai, followed shortly by Keith Urban's "Slow Turnin'." It's about 70 outside, lovely breeze blowing through my back windows. Clear sky, the Valley glittering below me as I crest the 405.

Nope, doesn't get better than this.

My first check

Behold, my first check for directing:



I can't stop smiling, even though this has been a challenging experience.

I am now a paid director.

About f***ing time.

Summary of August 3, 2007.

Summary of today

Okay, yesterday, really.

Woke up realizing it’s my ex’s birthday. Great way to start the day.

Typed my ass off in the morning.

Couldn’t find anything cute to wear to the “preview” tonight of my new show. God, I need to lose a ton of weight.

Got to MR to corrupt the creative souls of children. My regular partner in crime is off this weekend. Her substitute got the time wrong for the first class. I have no keys. Kids started showing up. Got in to the studio almost 45 minutes late. Couldn’t leave at 5, like I was supposed to in order to get to the preview early.

Oh, and the air conditioning broke down – again.

Found out the MR guy who repairs the air had the keys all along, lives very close, could have let us in earlier and could have locked up so I wouldn’t have had to hang around.

Fought traffic at 6:45 to get to Santa Monica by 7:30-7:45. Arrived at 7:30.

Don’t really want to discuss tonight. The show went fine and all. Other things, behind the scenes, that I’ll blog about some day. Sum it up with the fact that I’m listed in the program as “Susan (director).” No last name with my bio. Apparently, I have become like Madonna and only go by my first name. The answer to my query as to why this is was simply, “Oh, I guess I missed that. I guess we should change that before we print up new ones.” Nice to know my time and talent are appreciated.

Blew out of there, as apparently did everyone else. Very tired. Should have gone home since I’m getting up before dawn to go help my dearest Chairman with his yard sale at 6 AM. But, nooooo.

Stopped by Molly Malone’s (bar in Hollywood) to listen to the Piper Downs, one of my favorite bands and a group of my favorite people. Am very, very glad I did. They blew away my blues with their simple joy in playing. I love these guys. They are some of the finest musicians on earth and if you want some killer, kick-ass, straight out rock and roll, check them out. They rocked so hard tonight. Greeted me with such friendship and love that the rest of the day faded away to the strains of “Stutter”.

Drove home, avoiding the swerving and the drunken and the just simply LA-ian drivers.

Now, I’m wide awake, it’s 1:21 AM and I have to get to bed. I’m not going to say get to sleep because I don’t know if actual sleep will actually happen. But at least lay down, close my eyes and breathe for the first time in days.

Here’s to a better tomorrow. Looking forward to Sunday, writing with my “team” – the fabulous David S. and the amazing Monica H. Trying to make the comedy part of the Ark film an actual comedy. Sorry, Erik, I know now that pairing you with the other writer was not a good blend and I hope to get another chance to work with you on something else. Focus on your kids, give them much love, and everything else will figure itself out.

Okay, rambling now. Must stop typing…..