Most of the entries here will be original content found only on this blog, but sometimes I'll cross-post some entries from my personal blog, if there's anything about TV writing in there. Or TV. Or if I just damn well feel like it. I'm doing that tonight, for my first entry. So don't get confused. You're probably already confused because writers stay up too damn late. Anyway, the (cross) post follows this paragraph. Welcome!
Hey homies! I sure did miss you! What a nice surprise to come back to find all the sweet comments and e-mails you took the time to leave for me. You all are the awesomest. Thank you for taking the time to check in and not give up on me. It means so much to me.
So how are you? I guess I'll find out after spending a year or so catching up on your blogs. Good lil' blog writers, posting entries all regularly and timely like! Show offs.
Well, when I left on the jet plane from way out yonder, it was 25 degrees with snow flurries. When I landed back here, it was in the nineties. At midnight. With dripping humidity and clouds of mosquitoes. Definitely back in the Deep South, y'all. Ain't that the berries! (If you're Southern you'll know what that means.) Something made this plane trip a little bit different, though...I was accompanied by 14 pounds of white fuzz. No, that's not the latest drug lingo, kiddos. It is in fact this specimen:
Don't let that cute face fool you. He is a hellion and a half. After the stress of worrying about him on the flight and 3 straight days (nights?) of no sleep because of his issues, I was about 2 seconds away from coming on here and begging you all for miracle dog training tips, 3 seconds away from begging one of you to adopt him, and about 4 seconds away from inquiring whether there were any Cruella Deville types out there who preferred Bichon fur to Dalmatian spots. But we're slowly adjusting. I know; he deserves my patience and understanding. And he's getting it. Good thing I love him, the little turd.
So things to do now:
1. Fix myself.
2. Fix dog. (I'm hoping the first two will occur together.)
3. Get job.
4. Get life.
5. Get fabulous TV writing career.
6. Fix everyone else's life.
7. And a bunch of other stuff happening in between the aforementioned stuff.
So that should all take about what...three weeks? Get ready for some roller coaster ridin' my peeps, is what I'm sayin'.
Soon after I returned to the homeland, I checked the sheriff's website and found two recently incarcerated people I recognized, one of which I'm distantly related to. It was oddly comforting in a way. Something about the familiar, you know? Checking those jail sites is all the fault of my little sis, who is addicted to them. She goes on every day and calls and crows with glee every time one of our relatives is on there. Well, unless they do something REALLY bad. Mostly they do lame stuff though. Drunk people are usually lame. Except of course for my Uncle Clyve's drunken arrest that goes on the record for being the coolest family arrest ever because it:
1. Took place on Thanksgiving. (Our family gets arrested mostly on the 4th of July, followed closely by Thanksgiving. The holidays are stressful.)
2. He started out in a frog suit.
3. He ended up passed out half-naked (frog suit abandoned in parking lot) in the middle of a mall department store's Thanksgiving sale.
Eek! Ugly Betty's coming on. Back in an hour or so.
Okay, I'm back. Was that episode awesome or what? LOVE THAT SHOW. Love it. There are some haters out there saying it's gone down in its second season, and to that I say 'a pox on you all' because could a show rule more? And remember that script I wrote back in June for the show? It's almost eerie how perfectly it would fit into this season. So seriously, I hope somebody just hires me already. (On a side note, any of you ABC/Disney Fellowship hopefuls heard anything yet? Keep me posted.)
It wouldn't be Rhysently without some more family drama/pathetic comedy stories so here's what happened while I was away...well, 2 things anyway. I'm getting tired. First, my sister had a particularly gruesome tale about someone she knew who committed suicide recently. Horrible yes, but if the reasons behind it are what they appear to be, the guy will burn in hell anyway so it's good he went there sooner than later. (For every non-evil person who has ever found themselves in so dark a place, I am so sorry for your pain and please talk to somebody. ANYBODY. Please. You're worth it.) I won't go into all the details--I have SOME couth--but it took several different methods to get the job done. Apparently--this is not pleasant--a plugged-in hairdryer in the bathtub didn't work. I guess that's why Mel Gibson just ended up hearing women’s thoughts in that sucky movie. You know, the one where we all learned women can only have one...thought...at...a...time?
And now on to a more cheerful tale. Well, it's a bit sad because I won't be able to meet the inventor of tampons and Sandy Koufax after all, because my cousin's wedding is off. The whole thing was a bit weird anyhow because it was so rushed and out of the blue, but the beach ceremony that was supposed to take place last weekend was er...unceremoniously...cancelled by my cousin, who at the time refused to say why except that he was never getting married EVER, and he'd remain an eternal bachelor. The girl was Canadian, and they had already had a civil ceremony in Canada, and were going to do the 'real deal' here in the states with the whole works: beach, open bar, tampon inventors. So I finally found out why he called it off. Three days before the blessed event was set to take place, the girl (I can't remember her name, something Canadian, eh) went out drinking with her friends and didn't come home all night. My cousin was quite annoyed and locked the doors and went to bed. He awoke at 4am to screaming and cussing and pounding like the demons of hell had swept upon him but it was his beloved, who apparently turns into a raging monster when drunk.
She BROKE DOWN the door--like SPLINTERED IT PEOPLE--and when he refused to fight with her and turned around to go back into the bedroom, she grabbed a heavy metal astray off the table and BUSTED HIS HEAD with it until he was bleeding all over and crawling to get away from her. By this time the neighbors had called the police. (Oooh, if it's in Canada, does that mean it was those cool guys in the spiffy red outfits on the horses? 'Cuz that would make this story so much more awesome. I don't know if Canada has the boring type of police so I'm going with the Mounties for my own amusement.) Anyway, the police arrested the girl (took three to wrestle her to the ground and handcuff her) and hauled her away in their car, (or on their horse, depending on the police situation in Canada.) My cousin celebrated his would-be wedding day recovering from a concussion and getting the marriage annulled. He was so mad he refused to call everyone who had been invited so it's likely people flew in to discover a beach completely empty of open bars, wedding marches, or tampon inventors. Doh.
I can understand him not wanting to deal with it, but if that had happened to me, I would have mailed out an overnight fancy wedding un-invitation to every damn person who was supposed to come, with her mug shot on the front and the details of the whole affair in flowery script on the inside. Then again, I'm kind of mean sometimes.
But seriously, can you believe that? I defy anyone to claim a crazier family than mine. ANYONE. And you wonder why I'm so screwed up. I had no idea Canadians could be so violent though. I've always pictured the place as very clean and crime-free with those police with pretty red coats mostly for decoration. I consider myself an expert on Canada because of the 20 years I've devoted to watching Degrassi (that’s right, I'm not ashamed. I am Degrassi's bitch and I love it.) Now, anyone who watched Degrassi knows that of course Canadians all grow up and go through the same basic issues: lots of sex, drinking, drugs, wild parties, penis pumps, and wildfire school outbreaks of gonorrhea after too much oral sex in the ravine. (Damn it must be AWESOME to be Canadian.) But violence like that? I am SHOCKED. Surely Degrassi hasn't misled me?
Tangent: aww....look at Emma when she was such an adorable moppet! Can you believe she turned into this just three years later? And that adorable moppet and the other adorable moppet from the first clip ended up DOING THIS?! (Again...Canada. Awesome.)
Also, I'm watching Mad Men while I write this so if it's all incoherent and stuff that's why. Speaking of TV, which I do a lot, I started a new blog which will deal with my upcoming TV writing career: Great Boobs And Tubes. The title makes perfect sense. Just think about if for a sec. So occasionally I'll cross-post some things on both blogs, but I'll keep most of my writing info and adventures over there. It makes sense for a bunch of different reasons to create a separate blog for that, even though Phil doesn't like when I do that. But of course, Phil IS Canadian, which means he's so busy getting drunk and having wild ravine gonorrhea parties that he probably isn't giving very good advice anyway.
Speaking of Phil, THANK YOU dearest blogger pal for sending me my very first birthday present of the year. I loved it. And man, those pictures were amazing! (Haha, let people infer what they want from that, wild Canadian.)
Which leads me to my birthday. Which is tomorrow. With all the crazy stuff going on, I haven't even thought about it (except when I received Phil's present of course a few months ago) and now that people are asking me what I want. Usually I milk my birthday for months on end. It, along with Halloween, is my high holy day after all. But I just can't get into either this year. Just too much...stuff I guess. Although it's a shame to miss a birthday, because who knows how many you'll end up having after all? I still have an hour and a half until it's officially my birthday, so maybe I can make it feel 'right' by then. Or maybe in the next few days. But probably not for a few months, when I'll then snap and get all whiny and demand late birthday attention from every one of you. I'm warning you now.
I haven't even been able to think of anything I want, because I haven't wanted anything lately--never good--so maybe I can come up with a list now, however half-hearted to get started in the right direction. Let's see. (Big Sigh.) I guess these would be good...
1. A domain renewal. That's always good.
2. A barrel curling iron. I have no idea if this differs from a normal curling iron, but according to my fashionista little sis, I need one to keep my hair looking as super cute as possible. So, one of those. And I guess some of that stuff girls spray into their hair to hold curl...you know, that spray you put in your hair...I'm sure there's some kind of name for it.
3. The Peak Performance Cardio with Kendell Hogan DVD. He's my favorite workout instructor EVER and I can only get him on Exercise TV for a few weeks every few months or so (they have an annoying habit of taking off programs and adding them later for no apparent reason. Stupid.) Here's a video of my man in action so you can see how awesome he is. Damn Exercise TV. What a tease.
4. And um...I'm almost out of toilet paper. So I guess I can use some of that. I like Angel Soft.
There. I did it. So I guess you better (Big Sigh) send me some presents or else Phil is going to make you all look bad.
Hmm, this is sort of a long post. Nothing for months and then a huge splurge of words. Ah, I am officially a Blog Binge and Purger. Hey, I started a new Internet disorder! You heard it here first.
But seriously. I need to start posting regularly again. It's good for me. You'll just have to suffer. I guess that'll end our bedtime story for tonight, kids. Sleep well. I missed you.
