Howdy all you readers out there.  Thank goodness nobody is living off my words here or I'd have a big starvation issue to deal with.  Just been busy.  And lazy.  And let me tell you it's mighty hard to be both.  I know.

In summary, we went to Boston for the christmas holidays and then back here to Greece and then to France and now we're going back to the states and inbetween all that we've been designing our house and going on trips and doing lots of first grade greek homework and planning the renovation and sail of our boat.  whew.  It's much easier to type all that than do it!  Let me tell you, I know.  (imagine a Rosana Rosana Dana voice saying that!  )  Let me tell you, I know!

On top of  all that, I am now on crackbook.  I know.  It's a very addictive activity.  With that said...ciao for now.



 
 

Seriously, we have a big bed in our room.  It's actually two beds put together, that's how they do it here.  Usually it's covered with a giant pillowtop, but in our case, it's just a sheet, so it's just a matter of minutes after he's gotten in bed, that he's found the little crack and just wants more and more and more.  By morning he's hung between two beds on a very taught sheet.  As much as I hate this, he loves it.  He loves the crack.  I tell him not to do it.  It's not good to lay to squished like that. It's not good for the sheets to be pulled so.  It's not normal to sleep there.  But he can't stop.  Even if he falls asleep actually on the mattress, he ends up in the middle, creating his own cocoon in the crack.  It's useless for us to get involved anymore.  He can't stop.

So we can now hang our heads and admit, we have a son who's a crack addict.



 
Suicide Aid 01/27/2009
 

I really believe it should be a choice we all can make, whether we want to live or die.  And I would like it to be public, too, so people who want to help, will know who to help.  Like me.  No no no, I want to help them.  I'm not suicidal.  Although sometimes I wish I was.  Well you see, you need balls to be suicidal, or you need to be completely out of your mind.  And frankly, my gonads, I have to admit now, cease to exist and I like to think I'm pretty sane.   I know this because there are many things I'd like to attempt, but the fear of death holds me back.  I'm a very sane chicken.  Thus my comment, sometimes I wish I was suicidal. Seeing that I'm not, and probably will never will be, I think I can them help them and benefit me at the same time.  I've been one to enjoy a vicarious thrill.   Driving by the kids in line to bungee jump at the Gorge du Verdon, I get a chill up my spine that I like, while pretending it was me doing the jump.  Watching the nuts in the fly suits jump off cliffs gives me tingling goosebumps.  Being shown a wild ride down a rapid river on a small raft, is exhilerating!  And I each time I witness something like that, something I'm afraid to do, I  think wow, I would certainly do that if I was suicidal.  Because you see, it's all about the fear of dying.  It would open up a new world of adventure to the suicidal person if they just gave it more thought.  They could jump off high bridges and bounce right back up, fly through the feilds off some tall Nepallian cliff, or swim with sharks!  Who knows, after that they might not even want to die.  They might want to live!  And they'd have me to thank, because it would have been my idea to go and do that you see.  I'd get a vicarious thrill from it AND save a life. 

 How's that for a motivator to get the suicidal publicly listed?

 
 

Gung Hoi Fat Choi

 

That phonetically means Happy New Year in Chinese. 

I learned that back in my waitressing, ah hem, theatre days.  Back when I worked nights. Back in California. Back in San Fran in the late 80's -early 90's.  Back when Michele and I would stay up into the wee  hours of the morning whether we pulled a double or not, and had coffee chat.  Now keep in mind this wudn’t your decaf and I didn’t do caffeine during the day.  Nope, never liked the jitters it gave me.  I was and still am your juice girl.  'Cept for those late nights when we opted for a Denny’s or an Ihop over the fan far of the latest play or the restaurant’s after hours soiree.  The two of us would duck into a 24/7 diner and drink java.  Most nights, over our cups of jo, we’d come up with a fist full of skits that would rival any SNL show, laughing our  heads off.  But the best nights were when we’d get philosophical.  We were after all, the intellects, the intellectuals, sitting at a table ingesting freshly ground coffee bean juice, instead of our other option, dancing on tables ingesting fermented substances.  And we didn't moan and complain, no we came up with plethora hypothosis! It would only take about 6 cups each when we would have it solved. 

What you ask were we solving?  Just the world’s main problems is all.   I recall one morning proudly stumble-running into the house waving my napkins.  Oh yes, because we not only discussed these worldly issues, we wrote about it, too and occasionally even came up with scheming maps and grand plans.  This one morning in particular, as physically tired as I was, I was as mentally ecstatic to share the news. 

There was my mother getting my younger sisters and brother ready for school.  She could tell I was on to something big, mother’s intuition. She demanded, “Tell me please, what it is you’re dying to talk about?”  Or I had hoped that she said that and went on to tell her…how we devised a plan for world peace.  Yes it was complicated, but I managed to strain my brain enough to come up with layman’s terms so she could comprehend this epiphany.  You see Michele and I had found the root of all problems, life was too complex.  So if we just simplified it, all would be well again.  We'd have world peace, just like that. All we had to do was rebuild our lives and voila, no more wars and no more worries from the top of the governments down to the bottom where the quarry men dig.

Oh how I kept my eyes on her face, intensely watching her expressions.  I wanted to capture this Kodak moment when she would smother me with her love and admiration.  As I started I got the look, the I’m listening here look, then half way in a smirk, then 2/3rd s was a huge smile, then 6/7ths she couldn’t restrain herself anymore and she exploded.  I stood back and silenced myself, understanding her lack of patience to control an outburst of applause for such a marvellous revelation.  “Hey Rand, hate to burst your bubble there, but you’re describing the Smurfs. Go to bed.”  I looked down at my 20 or so shaking ink stained fingers and carefully unwrapped the wad of my white and blotted beige napkin, to reveal our newly designed state of the art futuristic houses, which I was saving for last, which looked            exactly                like               mushrooms.

 

Oh well, what did the bartender say when the mushroom walked in?  Hey here comes that Fun Guy!

 

So I figure I’ve spent enough time in China Towns to warrant a Chinese New Years Resolution.  After all, I didn’t make one this January 1st.  So for this Chinese New Year I resolve to write more often, to start and finish my screenplay, Barn of Blues and to make a collection of my essays.

 

Day one- Check.