To Quote Pink Floyd: Wish You Were Here

"...we're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year..."

you simply have not lived until you've stood on a pier, the sun warming your back, the ocean breeze dancing playfully in your hair, as you take black and white photos of surfers with the Raconteurs playing in the background.

i'm convinced that this is where the yellow brick road would have led.

Old Hollywood Glamour

come with me.

we'll make Old Hollywood our playground

and its stars will be our best friends.

we'll dance on the ceiling with Fred Astaire

and sing in the rain with Gene Kelley.

and perhaps Judy Garland will take us

over

the

rainbow

one last time.

Everything You Thought It Would Be

driving down a fourteen lane highway

passing palm trees and hills topped
with mansions posing as southwestern style ranches,
it's impossible to resist blasting the Red Hot Chili Peppers
and i can't help but wish that i was a
skinny, tan blonde
instead of the curvy, pale redhead i am.


i need to get a tan.

Daydreaming

it's raining in San Diego;

the mountains have their heads in the clouds again--
it's dangerous business, that.
they could float away if they weren't careful...

i guess that's why God made them so heavy.

The Prim Adventures of Abigail and Maurice

there are very few roads or streets in California.

everything is either a boulevard or an avenue.

it sounds a bit stuck up to me:

"Abigail, would you care to stroll down the boulevard with me?"

"Oh, Maurice, I would much rather promenade down the avenue."

what is a boulevard, anyway?

and will they ever stop making me think of Green Day?

most importantly, who are Abigail and Maurice?

Take Off

wings spread, the sun rises behind us

we race it's advancing colours across the country

from one coast to the other

leaving one ocean for the next

sunrise for dusk

Home

I'm back. I'm back and I don't think I've ever been so happy to see my bed. California was amazing, though. It's beautiful there. I really would like to go back some day and do all the things I didn't get to do this time around. Like spend more time at the beach and hit some art museums and make my way up to San Fransisco. Anyway. While I was away I got a bit inspired. So my next few posts are going to be a medley of riffs on my time spent in California, accompianied by photos that I took there. Enjoy!

Cali, Here I Come

I'm off to California. Yay. So you won't be hearing from me for the next week and a half. Wish me luck. Pray that I don't kill my family...and that they don't kill me. And that I don't get sunburned too badly or drowned or eaten by a stupid whale or trampled by a horse or killed in a plane crash or beaten with a volleyball or whatever else could possibly happen to me in my travels. And don't hesitate to call me if anything interesting happens while I'm away. (make sure Jack knows that the casting list for Grease counts as something interesting and as soon as anything is known he needs to call me. Also if Mara cries or there's a catfight over the casting of Rizzo: CALL ME.) Have a Merry Christmas everyone! I love you! I'll see you on the flip side.

later.

There Are Worse Things I Could Do Than Screw Up an Audition or Two...

I failed. Epically. I tanked the first audition and, for one reason or another I was given a second chance at it. And I failed even worse at the callbacks. The thing is, I don't get nervous. Not bad nervous. I learned a long time ago to channel nervous energy into excitement. And I couldn't do it last night. I couldn't do it and I got sent home. It's not even that I wanted a part in the show that badly. I did, but that's not what I'm really upset about. What upsets me the most is that because this is the only time these people have ever heard me sing, that's what they think I sound like. And these are people I respect and I know they respect me as an actor and a person, but I need them to respect me as a singer. Because I'm a singer waaaaay before I'm an actor. Heck, I'm a singer way before I'm a person half the time. And I can sing. I'm not being vain, I'm not bragging. I'm being truthful. I sing like a big black woman. And the directors of the show (the people whose respect I crave so badly) will never know that because they've only ever heard me completely blow two auditions. It's incredibly frustrating.

Libertine

I think he does agree. Why does he remind me of Billie Joe?

Woah

oh my.
that was unexpected.

With Love, From Me To You

What ever did become of the likely lads?

What became of the dreams they had?

What happened to forever?

We'll never know.

Those kites we flew together,
I thought they'd fly forever.
Why won't it fly?
Time flies,
time dies.
You're not what you own,
you're not alone.
We weren't alone.
by this point in the studio time...
now i'll take it it's better for you
somehow we'll make it cause that's what we do
these things tell us how we fit with each other
even if we don't know how we fit anywhere else.
escapade.
this will linger, i'm almost sure of it.
you were right,
it lingers.
linger.
such a good word.
it means:
1. to remain or stay on in a place longer than is usual or expected, as if from reluctance to leave
2. to dwell in contemplation, thought, or enjoyment
3. to remain alive; continue or persist, although gradually dying, ceasing, disappearing




i like the last one the best. don't you agree?