Tuesday, November 06, 2012

The Eve of the Election

It's been ugly, really ugly.  And now I have a stomach ache.  I hope that after tomorrow, we will know the results of this election and it will be over for a least another four years.  And I hope that the election is successful... that voter fraud, while I know it won't be eliminated, will be kept in check.  Just this afternoon, Clarence, my next door neighbor, asked me if I had voted yet.  I told him the line at Randall's near where I work was too long on Friday and I had decided to wait til Tuesday.  He said he was voting tomorrow too.  He had tried to vote last week, but they said they couldn't find him in the system and he wouldn't be able to vote.


He's over 70 years old.  He's lived in Austin probably longer than I've been alive.  He's lived in the same neighborhood, in the same house.  He has the same Texas drivers' license that the rest of us do.

Oh, but he's black.

And smart too.  So he came home and did his research and found his voter ID card and tomorrow when he shows up at the pools, he'll have a pad and paper with him to record the names and details of any situation that arises when he makes a second attempt to vote.

One of my girlfriends from Ragtime (shameless plug: 10 performances left!) applied for her absentee ballot, she never got it.  She called and bugged them again and again.  A neighbor finally brought it to her door, it had been delivered to the wrong house just last week.  She wouldn't have gotten it at all had her neighbor returned it to sender.

She's black too.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Happy Halloween 2012!

From my family to yours!!

Potter napping on a spooky spider blanket

Zorba roaring (or yawning) on same said blanket)

Janie trepidatiosly sporting the too-small Catwoman costume I bought her.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

October 30, Seven Years Later

I opened up my blog tonight to post something cheeky about Halloween: a meme I had encountered on Facebook… snarky and lovely. 

After entering my old email username (hotmail lives!) and my over utilized password, a list of blogs I had subscribed to in another life began to pop up at the bottom of the screen.  I forgot they were there.

There were posts about ballroom dancing and where the latest swing band would be playing.  Posts from preachers and lady reverends the U.S. over offering Christ and compassion to the blog world.  And at the top of the list sat a blurb of a blog of a friend who hasn’t posted in seventeen months. 

Love god, embrace beauty, and live life to the fullest.

I knew what the post would be about.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

sTuff yOur MaMa shouldA tAUght yA

This will be a new blog series titled, Stuff Your Mama Shoulda Taught Ya.... (or the Sh*t You Shoulda Listened To).

I've discovered in my six years as a landlord, in the sixteen years of living with roommates, and from the six hundred men I've dated, that there are just things... basic things... that some people are missing in life.  Pertinent information.  And quite frankly, I feel, their lives (and my own) could perhaps (okay definitely) be improved had they just listened to their mother.

Now, for those of you without mothers, or with negligent mothers, don't despair.  This is a semantics issue.  Feel free to substitute father, nanny, grandparent, step-mom, guardian, security warden... whatever into the title.  The point being, of course, that at some point we should have all learned some very basic things about life.

And I recognize that we, as learners, have to hear something like seven times to store it to memory, so I get it... we missed a few things here and there.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

The Relevance of Ragtime: Racism

Opening tonight at the brand new Topfer Theatre on South Lamar is Ragtime... a musical with book by Terrence McNally, lyrics by Lynn Ahrens and music by Stephen Flaherty.

And I'm in it.

So buy your tickets now.

However, if, on the off chance, I'm not impetus enough to see the show, let me offer you some insight on why I think this musical was worth spending 29 hours in rehearsal last weekend... wait, I mean... why I think this musical is culturally important.

Rewind to two weeks ago.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

On the Wheels of a Dream - One Week!

Opening in one week, I'll be performing in the Ensemble of Ragtime at ZACH Theatre's brand new Topfer Theatre! This is an exciting time for me, and for local Austin theatre.  Running Wednesdays thru Sundays from Oct. 17th - November 18th, you've got four weeks to catch this breathtaking show starring Kyle Scatliffe, Kia Fulton, Andrew Foote, and Jill Blackwood.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Checking In With the Chicken

Here’s the thing about the Chick fil-A argument… 

If you don’t read the news and you aren’t on Facebook, perhaps you haven’t heard about what’s going down with the Chick-fil-A controversy.  Let me give you a re-cap.

Chick-Fil-A is a “Christian” fast food chain that sells chicken.  And they have lots of  advertising signs along most major highways sporting cows advocating the consumption of chicken.  Cute.  Everyone loves cows.

However, they’ve more than once garnered national attention with their openly anti-gay agenda.  And yes, I use the word agenda because it’s not just that the president, Mr. Cathy, openly says he and his family and his company support a biblical view of marriage - that would certainly be his prerogative to believe and even share his beliefs in this lovely free country that we live in.  However, he and his company’s charitable arm, Winshape, have donated almost two million dollars to “Christian” organizations whose mission is, in part, to “heal” people from being gay.  Not $2million to Christian organizations like Compassion International, World Vision, Bread for the World, etc.  $2million to organizations that utilize “anti-Gay therapy.”  That’s an agenda.

So there’s been a host of meme, some of it funny, some of it sad, flooding social media sites and there have been several articulate responses from people (probably “Christians”) about why it’s ridiculous to communally or personal boycott Chick-fil-A.  And truthfully, it is not to Chick-fil-A or Mr. Cathy that I respond today, it’s to these other people weighing in on whether or not to buy that crispy fried white meat on a white bun with crunchy waffle fries (as if the healthiness factor weren’t enough to enlighten you).

The tagline for one article I read stated: Do we really want a country where people won't do commerce with those who have beliefs different than their own? To which I respond…
  • One: Yes. 
  • Two: This isn’t about beliefs. 
  • Three: Welcome to living out your Christian faith. 
Stick with me on this one.

Friday, July 13, 2012

Checkmating Chess

I admit it, I was one of the nerdier ones.  I grew up playing chess and checkers and cards and word games.  I ate tuna sandwiches in my school lunch even though the other kids thought they smelled bad.  I wore glasses (big blue ones) and read books several grade levels ahead of my own.  I dissected worms in my backyard with a toy microscope I got for Christmas.

This summer, I'm combining the nerdiness of youth with my theatrical adventures... because sometimes nerds grow up.  And some of them compete in World Chess Championships. 

Chess: The Musical is not what it sounds like, however.  It's actually a commentary on the cold war and is loosely based on the true story of Bobby Fisher (whispered).  Written by Tim Rice and the guys in ABBA, Chess opened in London to mixed reviews and so underwent reconstruction to the point that when it opened on Broadway, even the ending had changed (in one version the Russians win, in the other, the Americans win - talk about your fixer-upers). 

Chess is what I would label as an opperetta in that it is almost entirely sung with minimal dialogue speckled throughout.  Produced by Austin Playhouse (running through the 22nd at Mueller) and Summer Stock Austin (August 2nd-11th at the Rollins), Chess has two runs and the latter will include fifteen teenagers.  Awesome. 

I'm just in the chorus, but since our first run (with Austin Playhouse) is in their temporary facility (a tent) whilst they wait to break ground on their new theater, I'm one of six chorus members in a cast of 12.  And for AP, twelve is pushing the limits of bodies permissible backstage.  I have been smooshed up against more people and curtains and costume racks than I care to admit trying to squeeze my way onstage.  But it's worth it.  The set is gorgous.  The woman who plays Florence (the female in our Russian/American love triangle) can sing.  And by sing, I mean si-ing.  Wowza.  Our costumes reflect the set (and the chess board) and are black and white too.  And generally short.  What is it with Austin Playhouse and me ending up in short (occasionally plastic) dresses?  I digress.  But seriously, check us out.  Super hot, right?

Photo courtesy of Christopher Loveless

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Blood Brothers, Then And Now.

Trinity Street Players presents the Austin premier of Blood Brothers June 2-24th!  Reserve your free tickets now!

That's the now.  Here's the then.

Back in High School, my friend Moxi (yep, you've heard of her before) went on vacation and returned to St. Jo Mo having seen Blood Brothers.  Her addiction soon became my addiction and we added it to the list of musicals we routinely performed at the upright piano in her small bedroom behind the Budget Inn.  

This is Mox's and my senior pic.  Oh snap!

Thursday, May 03, 2012

Zach's Hard Hat Tour: ALT Article

Last month I received an email from Michael Meigs, local theater critic and primary author of Austin Live Theatre asking me if I would like to attend one of Zachary Scott Theater's Hard-Hat Tours.  The tour would be of the new theater being built to the east of Zach Scott's current two stages, at the corner of Riverside and Lamar.  The construction site will eventually give way to Austin's new Topfer Theater
Occasionally I write for other blogs, and Michael wanted a written tour of the new space as told by an  actor (as opposed to a critic, patron, fanatic, or occasional theater-goer).  Of course, I oblidged!  If you'd like to read the article at Austin Live Theater, you can find it here: Zach's Hard-Hat Tour: An Actor's Perspective. Enjoy!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Wake Up Missouri

Okay Missouri, I love ya.  You're my home state.  You have the most caves out of any state in the U.S.  You even elected a dead man as your Governor because you knew John Ashcroft would be a horrible choice (unfortunately, George W. promptly appointed him Attorney General - you win some, you lose some).

But you are kinda embarrassing me on the political front.

First off, one of your candidates running for the United States Senate "isn't sure" what the Violence Against Women Act is.  And the candidate is a WOMAN.  Sigh.  You guys, seriously?  Don't elect this person.  Granted, I no longer live there, but if you want my two cents, you should keep Claire McCaskill representing your state.  She's conservative (in my opinion) but at least she probably knows what the Violence Against Women Act is... Sheesh.

And speaking of violence against women what is this I'm reading about legislation you passed nicknamed the "don't say gay" bill?


This is seriously awful, you guys.  How can kids learn about sexuality, their own or their peers, if you make it illegal to talk about it?

Here's the bill if you want to read it yourself, but here's a nice excerpt... 170.370. Notwithstanding any other law to the contrary, no instruction, material, or extracurricular activity sponsored by a public school that discusses sexual orientation other than in scientific instruction concerning human reproduction shall be provided in any public school.

This is bad, y'all.  How can kids learn about sexuality, their own or their peers', if you make it illegal to talk about it?  

TEACH them about reproduction, TEACH them about menstruation, TEACH them about childbirth, TEACH them about sexually transmitted diseases, TEACH them about birth control, TEACH them about masturbation, TEACH them about homosexuality and gender issues, TEACH them about hygene, TEACH them about their bodies!  

You don't have impregnate them so they understand giving birth, you don't have to turn them gay to bring awareness to sexual orientation, you don't have to infect them with the human papillomavirus to make them understand STDs.  But you do need to teach these kids what these words mean, what happens to their bodies and how to make healthy choices now that they have this information!

Make school a safe place to talk about sexuality.  The teenage years are confusing enough without y'all making it illegal to talk about it.

Locate your district.  Find your senator.  And then write him or her.  
Then, to find your representative in the house, look him or her up here.
Or just send the senate a general email:

Okay, that was easy.  Speak up.  It's your state.  It's your kids.  Speak out against violence and speak on behalf of education.  Go Missouri.  Show me what you're made of.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Six Months of Madness

So, I've been pretty silent for the past six months or so when it comes to politics. This is probably due to the fact that I got a lot of hate mail on FB about my politically charged posts that I posted on my very own facebook wall (yes, that's a soapbox). People de-friended me (were they really friends at all?), sent me emails admonishing me in my Christian faith and witness (perhaps I should stop calling myself a "Christian" so people will stop judging me by their Christianity), or people just wrote dumb blurbs in my comments section.

On the other hand, it would seriously take me a week to comment on all the ridiculous crap being spewed by conservatives, not to mention the junk I'm-not-actually-liberal back bending non-conservatives have been doing lately. A week. I work full time and do full-time theater. I don't have time to solve America's problems in my spare time. But I do have time to vote, and read facebook. And what I discovered was that much of what I want to say has been succinctly and humorously summed up in graphic art and quotes. So... here is my latest political blog. And it's in pictures. Because sometimes creativity is a more effective communicator than we are.

Here we go...

Regarding the Republican platform...

These days, they call everything a "war" except our actual wars.

P.S. If your presidential candidate can be compared to a character on The Simpsons, there is something wrong with your political party. And no, I didn't get all the answers correct on that quiz. How absurd is that?

Regarding women's rights...

Regarding homosexuals (and other sub-humans)...

Regarding separation of church and state (or the inability of people to stop calling their sexism, racism, homophobia and greed "Christianity") ...

Regarding Rush Limbaugh...

Enough said.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Laramie Meets Good Friday

On Good Friday this year I did something different. Well, not different for Ann the actor, but different for Ann the minister. Traditionally on Good Friday (five days after Palm Sunday and two days before Easter), I attend a church service commemorating the killing of Christ.

Fun times at Ridgemont High.

Good Friday is the darkest service of the entire church calendar, and “good” the most ironic word in Christian liturgy. By the end of the service, all the lights have been extinguished, all the relics in the sanctuary (the bible, pulpit, communion table, etc.) covered in black cloth, and the nail in our trembling hands as we trepidatiously leave the sacred space is dropped into a metal bucket, every clink of every nail from every participant reminiscent of a hammer upon the nails pounded through Christ’s skin, veins, muscle, tendons and bones and into the wooden planks behind it.

It’s dark, okay? Dark.

But important.

Like the eastern philosophy of the ying and the yang, Christian tradition teaches us that without acknowledging that each of us possesses within us the capacity for deepest darkness, we cannot accept that we are at the same time created by, for, and with the brightest light. In other words, those of us waving the welcome palms on Sunday are the same people crying “Crucify!” on Friday. And the same people fleeing the scene of the "crime" on Friday are the same being sought out by the risen Christ on Sunday.

Without death, there is no resurrection.

The baptisms we watch on Easter remind us that unless we die to ourselves, we cannot live resurrected into new life.

That’s Good Friday in a nutshell. It’s an important holiday that I traditionally participate in.

This year though, I didn’t go to church for Good Friday service... I went to the theater.

Having received an invitation to attend Zachary Scott Theater with two of my best friends, I only felt a slight pang of guilt in missing the Good Friday service I had planned to go to. A free $66 ticket to one of the strongest regional theaters in town? Okay, I’ll take it.

Sorry, God. Next year, I guess.

But as I sat in the dark theater watching the cast and crew of The Laramie Project retell the stories of the residents of Wyoming’s “hometown” who reflect on the brutal torture and murder of a college student there, I wondered if in going to the theater, I hadn’t sacrificed diving into Good Friday after all.

In case you’re pre-pubescent (in which case, I’m not sure why you’re reading my blog anyway) and weren’t alive twelve years ago, here’s a quick overview of Matthew’s story and how the Laramie project came to be the art it is now.

“October 6, 1998, Matthew Shepard, a college student at the University of Wyoming, was kidnapped, beaten and left to die, tied to a fence on the outskirts of Laramie, Wyoming. Five weeks later, Moisés Kaufman and fellow members of the Tectonic Theater Project went to Laramie, and over the course of the next year, conducted more than 200 interviews with people of the town. From these interviews they wrote the play The Laramie Project, a chronicle of the life of the town of Laramie in the year after the murder.

The torture and murder of Matthew Shepard became a watershed historical moment in America that highlighted many of the fault lines in our culture. There was a polarization that took place in the National conversation that led to a) an oversimplification of vastly complicated ideas like prejudice, class issues, gender issues, and b) many bigoted people being allowed to take center stage, as the media seemed to find it necessary to find two sides in a debate about homosexuality. The goal of Tectonic was to find the story of the people of Laramie in their own words. But in doing so, it managed to capture something profoundly American, something about social injustices, about beliefs, about idiosyncrasies. It told the story of one American town at the end of the millennium. But in doing so, it talked about America as a whole.”[1]

The cast & creative team at Zach Scott presented a powerful performance, and I could easily write a (positive) review about the staging, lighting, acting and the vision of the show. Hell, they made it rain onstage at the end of Act 2. It was remarkable. But this is a post about Good Friday and how maybe going to church and going to the theater aren’t too far apart when you’re watching The Laramie Project.

In embarking on this project, Tectonic Theater Project asked themselves, “What role can a theater artists play in the national dialogue about current events?”

It’s an important question that not only theater artists but also Christian artists have been asking themselves for centuries.

What role do I as a Christian play in the national dialogue concerning the capital punishment of an unconvicted criminal guilty of only being himself, of telling those around him that love wins, that God wins, that hope wins, and that it’s time to view the world through such lenses of faith? What role do I as a Christian play in the national dialogue concerning the capital punishment of the self-proclaimed Son of God?

Four followers of Christ (they weren’t called Christians back then) decided to pick up the pen. And we found the texts of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

Members of the Tectonic Theater Project write that the “Laramie project has prompted dialogue, discussion and debate about a wide variety of issues and continues to transform the lives of those who participate as actors and those who sit in the audience.”[2]

I would argue that Good Friday did the same things to residents of the middle east over 2000 years ago, and the story of Good Friday continues to do so today.

The Laramie Project is a story about a boy on the fringe of society. A gay teenager. He was beaten without provocation and hung on a fence post to wait out his injuries and die. As fence post after fence post was rolled onstage during Zach Scott’s production that Good Friday, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the posts upon which Christ was left alone to die.

Now, Matthew Shepherd is not God. Neither is he a Christ-figure archetype in this piece of literature. He wasn’t even a great moral teacher or a philosopher or revolutionary. But Matthew Shepherd was brutally murdered by people who were probably afraid of him and afraid of what he represented.

And in that regard, so was Christ. Matthew Shepherd’s story that was re-told to me on Good Friday by the good actors onstage reminds me that not much has changed in 2000 years. The residents’ stories filled me with the dread of Good Friday when I realized that a civilized, enlightened people who can create NASA, wind farms, Nintendo, caramel frappachinos, the Bill of Rights, memory foam, the internet and iPhones are the same people who can brutally beat a boy with the butt of a gun, rope him to a fence post, and leave him to die, mutilated and alone.

In their first interview, some six years after their convictions, the Shephard’s killers denied that murdering Matthew was a hate-crime fueled by homophobia. Rather, they said, “money and drugs motivated their actions.”[3] My feelings on that confession are irrelevant. The fact remains that if we can kill an unsuspecting college kid, we can sure as hell kill God. If a nice, well-mannered, studious, gay boy can offend our senses, how much more will a man who tells us to clothe the sick, feed the hungry, love our enemies, pray for those who persecute us, visit those in prison…

And yet, many of us (sometimes especially) Christians choose to completely ignore the admonitions of Christ about other-worldly living and cling to "the cross" and "salvation" and "heaven" and other esoteric themes that seem to deport us from living incarnationally, resurrected, transformed lives every day. We just live and let live. Our religion is private, it’s our own - or even worse, we allow politicians to define it, and we join the masses pushing it onto other people.

Moisés Kaufman, leader of the Tectonic Theater writes, “Even in some of the western literature, you know, it’s live and let live. That is such crap. I tell my friends that--even my gay friends bring it up sometimes. I'm like, ‘That is crap, you know?’ I mean, basically what it boils down to: If I don't tell you I'm a fag, you won't beat the crap out of me. I mean, what's so great about that? That's a great philosophy?”

It’s not. It’s not a great philosophy.

And one of the many things Good Friday and Easter morning teaches us is that from ashes we have come and to ashes we will return. But it also teaches us that during that time between the ashes, we have a million and one opportunities to embrace the hedonistic, selfish, fear-filled, greedy, sexist, racist, violent, vulgar culture that pervades our homes, schools, churches, cinemas, bookshelves and theaters, or we can embrace the call of Christ to live resurrected, love and light-filled lives.

We can put away the fence-posts and the guns and the nails and the need to silence everything that scares us, and remember what the doctor said who worked on both Shephard’s murderer and Matthew Shephard himself that night in the Emergency Room in Laramie, Wyoming. “Two days after that night in the ER, I found out the connection and I was very struck. They were two kids. They were both my patients, and they were two kids. I took care of both of them, of both their bodies. And for a brief moment, I wondered if this is what God feels like when he looks down at us… how we are all his kids… our bodies, our souls. And I felt a great deal of compassion for both of them.”

We are all God’s kids.

And while experiencing "church" at my local theater, I was reminded that while I may choose death on Friday, Easter is right around the corner. God can make good result from any evil. In the murder of a college kid in Wyoming, comes a work of art that is reproduced all around the globe. People are changed and communities are changed. From the execution of a cultural subversive comes a story told around the world, and people are changed and communities are changed.

And in the light (or rather darkness) of such hatred be it against a political revolutionary & religious rebel or against a gay guy who got picked up at a bar, I choose love. I choose to forgive myself for participating in a culture of violence and I choose to live resurrected in the truth that we are all children of God.

R.I.P. Matthew Shephard. May you already be swinging in the arms of God Almighty herself. She is the great healer. And as for Christ? He is risen!

He is risen, indeed.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

My Friends Are Famous V... Even the Small Ones

For the fifth installment of My Friends Are Famous, I'd like to introduce Lindley. You may have met her before in this article I wrote about babies last year (Lindley M Davidson was #5 I think).

She makes the My Friends Are Famous blog because my little Lindles is starring in her very first commercial!

Sort of.

Lynnette & Sam, her adoring (and creative) parents made that super precious video as part of a contest & if their video gets the most views they win a thousand bucks. Awesome. I want to make a video now too.

So click on the video above and watch it... even if you hate ice cream... or children... or me for that matter. Yes, great idea. Click on it to spite me.


And congrats Lindley! Your parents may have passed that sweet tooth on to you, but you get your mad acting skilz from your Auntie Ann (not to mention, we all know I'm the one who taught you that boys are bad). Here's to your future full length feature!

Tuesday, March 06, 2012

Reflections On Valentine's Day Or I Bought An Octopus... Necklace.

Valentine’s Day has come and gone and while I’m not typically a huge fan of the flowers and chocolate holiday, it was a good day in this year of twenty-twelve. Mumsy and Popsicles sent me some money for the holiday (yes, we are a gift-giving family – even if it comes in cash form). Instead of using the money to pay bills or get the dog to the groomer or to pay for something else that needs to get done around the house, I decided to spend the money on me… superfluously.

There are men in my life who will buy my gifts. Necklaces with pearls imported from Italy. Bottles of wine. Dinners at local restaurants. Tee-shirts from bands they wish I’d been able to see. Whatever. Men, when they’re feeling generous, give gifts. And I receive them, gladly. I love presents. I blame my father. But I feel like we’ve discussed this before. So let’s move forward.

While I count my blessings that I as a single woman in her thirties still warrant gifts from men especially on holidays designed for exploiting lovers, this does not negate the fact that I can provide myself those same luxuries. While I may not be able to afford the aforementioned pearl-imported necklace, I can buy myself the super awesome octopus necklace that I found at BookPeople. So I did.

Additionally, I splurged on flowers, Ann-style, as the flower came on a giant ring for my finger which pops opens to reveal lip gloss. Functional jewelry. Fabulous.

I also bought myself a feminist coloring book lest I become too wooed by the allure of relationships, the emotional intimacy, the financial assistance, the physical comforts, the flowers that show up on my doorstep unexpected and beautiful, lest I forget the heartache that men cause, the existential angst associated with finding Mr. Right, how long it takes my dog to adjust to a new man in the house, the cringe that comes when someone asks, “So who are you seeing, now?” I bought myself a feminist coloring book. And it is awe-some. After I buy some crayons, I’ll mail you a pretty picture.

My final splurge of the Valentine’s Day money went toward two books: A Doll’s House (a play – my most practical purchase although I don’t know anyone in town doing Ibson in the near future) and Haiku For the Single Girl, a book of poems by a girl in New York. I read the whole thing in about ten minutes and laughed out loud at this woman whom I know would be my best friend should our single paths ever saunter across the U.S. Future poetic classics include:

Eyelash extensions?
Really? This is standard now?
Shit, man… I give up.


On my kitchen floor
We screwed* loudly, more than once.
Take that, married friends!

Sorry about the language. I didn’t write it. I just laughed at it. And if you don’t find it funny, you probably married too young or found love at first sight. Either way, you will probably appreciate neither of these poems or the movie Bridget Jones’ Diary. Your loss.

But I digress. This isn’t a diatribe against married persons. To you, I raise my glass. Marriages take work, lots of it. And if you didn’t choose a good spouse or don’t have a good therapist then you’ve really got a task ahead of you. But for those of you whose gain outweighs the cost, and sweet Mary, mother of God, you get to live out life with your best friend, I do not disparage you, I congratulate.

That was my goal too. I just haven’t reached it yet.

And until I do, I will continue to kindly accept gifts from men… from those who woo me and those who have won me. And I will take the $40 I get from Mom and Dad to splurge a little on myself so I am always reminded that I have the power to make myself happy too.

And sometimes my friends, happiness comes in an extra-large rose shaped ring with lip gloss on the inside. And sometimes it comes in a coloring book or script or poem. And sometimes it comes as an octopus that hangs around your neck upon which when someone compliments it, you can say, “Yeah, I saw this on V-Day and couldn’t resist.”

Valentine’s Day 2012.
Here’s to loving on yourself.
*"screwed" substituted for actual word used by poet to keep this a PG13 blogpost.