Next days, next steps... to healing, we hope!

1 October: It's already October? Wow. Did 2021 fly by for everyone else, or was 2020 just so fucking long that 2021 seems to be shorter?

Ennyhoo. It's Friday the first, and I've managed to somehow sleep, and I have some pain, and I can't do anything. So, I hand my shuffle of papers to Stephen to see if there's anything in there to learn, and also to see if the orthopedist Dr. Drew referred a) accepts Emergency Medi-Cal and b) can see me in the next 10 days. Also, where's that scrip? I'ma need to fill that thing.

I call the ortho. They don't accept EM - I'll need a group number and all that other shit. I'm welcome to call Medi-Cal/Covered California to get a "real" insurance policy. Or I can be a self-pay. But the earliest appointment they have available for me is Wednesday the 13th (oh, hey! TODAY! {the day I'm actually posting this}), which is not within the 10 days Dr. Drew has prescribed I follow-up. Hmm... 

So while I make calls to Medi-Cal and Covered California to try to get a "real" policy, Stephen goes looking for orthopedists who'll see me sooner.

Covered California is the "Marketplace" where California residents can shop for health insurance policies, under the ObamaCare provisions that everyone should be able to afford insurance. According to CC, we won't have earned enough income in 2021 to afford even the most basic of plans, meaning, we should automatically qualify for "regular" Medi-Cal. But Medi-Cal qualifies you based on monthly income, not annual, and even though Stephen's schedule with the Dodgers is very irregular, and he had, in fact, earned $0.00 in the previous workweek, he'd earned enough over the course of September (as had I), that we did not qualify for regular Medi-Cal. So, as far as insurance is concerned, we'll try again once the Dodgers are finished. Which may very well be us trying again next week, if they lose the game tomorrow night. Hmm... I'll need more facts.

Meanwhile (and I mean that in the sense that I was on the phone with both "insurance" entities for practically the full day), Stephen found an ortho with a very user-friendly website, where I could also make an appointment in days rather than weeks, and the office charges would be reasonable enough to put them on a credit card, no matter what my insurance outcome was. Unfortunately, they were full up on Friday, or Friday was already over by the time I even knew to try to get in. However, I was able to get a very early appointment on Monday, confirmed with a phone call from them after I had "placed the order" online. In that phone call, I was given a pre-estimate of charges, for the consult, any x-rays, and a cast, if that was the direction the doc took. Great!

So I grabbed the Rx and walked to my local CVS pharmacy, wearing the ER sling to support the splint, which was, for all intents and purposes, "hidden" by the sling. It was roughly 4 p.m. when I saw the pharmacist, a rude woman who declared that they were "out" of my meds, and no, she couldn't tell me who "might" have them on hand. I think she saw my sling and judged me to be a drug-seeker, even though I had a legitimate Rx! Found another pharmacy nearby, where they also didn't have my Rx, but not because they were out. They didn't have it because they're not a big chain, and they just don't carry narcotics. But that pharmacist was very nice about it all, and suggested CVS, Rite Aid, and Walgreens. She was actually enthusiastic about Walgreens, so that's where I went to get my meds. And they gave me zero resistance. #YayWalgreens

In the upcoming week, I'd been scheduled for some background (acting) work, with Covid tests on Monday and Tuesday, and 3 potential BG days Wednesday through Friday. Somewhere around the incident, they changed the test days to Sunday and Monday. So now it's weekend, and I'm calling the after-hours line, leaving messages, asking to change the tests back to M/T. I have an injury, and an appointment to see a specialist. If you test me and I don't end up working, you won't pay me for the test, and everyone's time will have been wasted. If I see the specialist and he clears me for work, I'll give you two clean tests and then I'll work! ... "Production would like for you to test on S/M and we'll still pay you whether you work or not"... hmm

So on Sunday 3 October, I drive myself to the testing site, by way of an auto-parts store, where I buy a knob for my steering wheel and attach it so I can use my left hand as little as possible and manage to drive myself!

#AchievementUnlocked! And of course, my negative test results come in that night, so...

On Monday 4 October, I drive myself to my ortho appointment. Only one person on the staff grates on me, expecting me to run my credit card for the charges as they accrue, rather than hitting it once for the day's total bill. At some point, he relents to allow me to run the office visit and x-rays together, and I relent to adding the cast afterwards, if that's what it takes to be seen. #ThatsWhatItTakesToBeSeen

Dr. Nevarez and Dr. Gendelman are top-notch. They both inspire sufficient confidence, so that when I discover that the ER has possibly mis-diagnosed and therefore mis-treated me, I'm less upset with the ER than I am sure of this particular ortho practice. My fracture was never hairline; I should have been able to see an ortho within 24-48 hours, or the ER should have put me in a real cast versus the splint. The time spent in the splint has made the fracture worse, not better, and now the only thing for it is surgery.

SURGERY. Cut me open and install a plate and pins. FIX the injury. Okay. #JustDoIt. How soon? What will it cost? How long will I be "down"?

There was an opening in his schedule for Tuesday 5 October! I'd have to be at the hospital by 5 a.m. for pre-op, so I'd be under the knife by 7 a.m. #GREAT #JustDoIt. Went home with my "do's and don'ts" list, informed Central Casting ON MONDAY that I would not be working this week, and waited. (I did not cancel the Covid test on Sunday!)

5 October: Stephen drove me to the hospital in the 4 a.m. hour, or as I like to call it, #DawnsTrampStamp. Got checked in early in the lobby, and waited to be sent upstairs. Got to the first round of paperwork, which I had him fill out so all I'd have to do was sign, and when they took me in for pre-op, they sent him back downstairs. He found some nice coffee somewhere and did whatever he does (reading or writing or playing games or posting on Fakebork).

Post-op, so bruised & swollen, but feeling 10k times better. I'm now bionic! I will set off every airport security gate going forward... can't wait to get to fly ANYWHERE!

The rest of Tuesday was spent in rest, in a much more reasonable splint, with only two medical "rules" to be followed: 1. Pick up nothing heavy 2. Follow up with the office on the 18th.

And now you're caught up on the injury & immediate treatments. Now to cover just LIFE and unlocked achievements! Please, comment away! I'll respond pretty quickly, this week, I think...

A Timeline, to be updated? Or just continued?

16 - 29 September: work, walk, shop, live... do the things. Do All the Things #ActorLife #SetLife #Blessed

30 September: work on set, then later shop, walk, shoot video/photos of the neighbors' yards that are already decorated for Halloween. Some pretty good stuff, y'all. Trip on a sidewalk crack, fly like Superman, land on both of my hands, exchanging my keys for a biggish chunk of gravel in my left palm, and scraping my phone case (in my right hand) across the offending sidewalk. #10kSteps #ThePhoneIsUnharmedThankfullyBecauseThatsWhatsImportantRightNow #ButOwFuckOwFuckOwFUCKOwFuckOwFuckOwFUCKOwFuckOwFuckOwFUCK

Hobble home, gingerly "holding" my bubbled left wrist with my just-beginning-to-bleed right hand. Greeted by the cats upon entry, burst into the ugliest ugly cry you've never witnessed. You remember the wives in Biblical and/or ancient Greek literature, wailing over their husbands slain in battle? That was me, for a solid 30 minutes, trying to rinse the dirt outta my wounds and figure out (not logically, no) why my fucking wrist hurts so fucking bad! Managed, somehow, in my pain and tears and snot, to call Rachel, the niece, the nurse. She's east coast and it's late. I get voicemail. I'm still crying and snotting and now apologizing for the hour, leaving a message that I have no hope of being understood in**. No idea what to do next.*

* Back before Covid, I had health insurance. GOOD insurance, through my union, SAG-AFTRA. Because of the loss of work, I also lost my insurance. No biggie, since I'm a pretty healthy person with a strong immune system, right? Well...

** Rachel's Google translate is hysterical! I hope she'll allow me to post the screenshot

Still the 30th, even on the east coast, Rachel calls me back. {She's an incredibly patient nurse, and also my very loving niece. I've been so #Blessed to be her auntie.} She talks me off my ledge, instructs me to take 1000mg each of ibuprofen and acetaminaphen, and also locates for me THREE nearish emergency rooms that I should get to immediately, if not sooner, because in her opinion, that left wrist is probably broken. At that point, I don't have the strength in either hand to be able to open the childproof OTC pill bottles, much less drive, and Stephen is at work without wheels of his own. So I knock on the neighbor's door, and they both open my drugs for me and give me a lift to St. Joe's ER. Rachel hangs up when she knows I'm moving in the right direction, and she expects updates, knowing I'll be on someone else's schedule for the next long while. Arriving at the ER, I send the neighbors home - no way I'm asking you to stay, since it'll likely be tomorrow before I'm outta here. Thank you kindly.

I get processed relatively quickly. I don't see a lot of what look like COVID cases (although I'm waiting in the "injured" half of the room and don't have the instinct to "diagnose" anyone in the other side of the room). X-rays are taken, and I'm so chilled to my bones, I'm afraid I've messed up the pics with my shaking. The tech assures me he got what was needed, finds me a toasty warm blanket to wrap up in, and parks me in a chair in the hall - no more lobby waiting for me!

I'm sent to a room where I'm greeted by my PA, "Dr. Drew". He tells me I have a hairline fracture; tries to show it to me in the printouts of the x-rays, but I don't really know what I'm looking at. He tells me they're going to put me in a "soft cast" (splint), give me an Rx for pain meds, and refer me to an orthopedist I'll need to see in ten days. Then he hands me (or really, tucks into my bag for me) a bunch of papers, including the x-ray prints, and leaves the room to fetch the splinter-tech. 

I'm joined by 3 young people, possibly nurses, possibly some other job label. I learn their names immediately, because that's what I do. I have, of course, since forgotten their names. It's been twelve days - gimme a break! The woman in charge is training the man, and the other young lady is also observing as training (she had been observing when I was first admitted). We four are getting along splendidly, and I'm trying to absorb all the same info at the same time. There was probably a pain-med injection early on, though, so I may have been a bit loopy. I don't recall.

The splint goes from my second knuckles around my elbow and back again to the second knuckles. I ask why so long, and the lead tech has me twist my right wrist, which I'm able to do (because it is not restricted to the elbow). I ask about the 10 days, and she says most patients are out of it sooner. Um, what? Of their own volition, or what? How does that work? They finish the dressing, ask if I have my discharge papers, and tell me they'll be back with Dr. Drew. Um, okay. #IDontKnowWhatQuestionsToAsk #IDontKnowHowToAnswerTheirQuestions #DoIHaveDischargePapers?

I'm left alone for a little bit, so I post pics on Fakebork and tag Stephen, because it feels like I need to go home soon, if they're asking if I have discharge papers... he calls immediately, in panic mode, because that's his SOP (which is why I hadn't reached out earlier), and while I can't give him concrete answers to his questions yet, I do assure him that I just need for him to come get me, and all of the details will be sorted in due time. He signs off, saying he needs to get permission to leave early (but sure it won't be a problem).

Dr. Drew et al return to see if everything's been done "correctly". I ask whether I need to pay a bill at registration or if I'll be billed, and Dr. Drew remembers this lovely California thing called "Emergency Medi-Cal", which is essentially Medicare for low-income under-65's (US). He sends the financial wizard in, and wouldn't you know? We qualified. Of course we did. So now, rather than waiting for Stephen to get all the way home on a bus, to collect my keys from the hook, and drive to get me, he catches a rather expensive Lyft to bring him to me and then us to home.

In the meantime, I still don't know that all of the papers that Dr. Drew had shoved into my bag So. Much. Earlier this night were, in fact, my discharge papers. I've been free to go! For a coupla hours, apparently! I meet the car in the drive, still wrapped in my no-longer-toasty blanket, and we get home, where I replay the events, and the cats finally get fed.

And then Cocoa stress-pees on the bed, and Stephen has to strip it for immediate laundering, and we've gotta figure out how to sleep before the next adventure! This was an awful lot to type, so I'm going to say... next post, a continuation of this epic saga! Feel free to chime in with questions or your own similar experiences!

Fuuuuuck... time for a bitchfest!

 So, yeah. I'm super-happy about being super-busy, because #AnyDayOnSetIsAGoodDay. But there are drawbacks to being super-busy, one of which is time-management.

Usedtabe, I'd open Quicken semi-daily, reconcile all the accounts, pay a bill or two as soon as there were sufficient funds to do so, and get on with my life. It doesn't take any time at all or even a helluva lot of brainpower, if you do it every coupla days or so.

Once I got super-busy, I had to find time to open Quicken and have it talk to the accounts. Not that I ever let anything get paid "late", mind you. But certain cards are used more frequently or regularly than other cards, and a weekly check-in feels insufficient when you've been doing near-daily.

One of those cards was ready for a payment this weekend. Having just deposited a coupla paychecks from setwork (#KaChing!), I went ahead and paid the card. Unfortunately, the only way to make deposits on the weekend is either at the ATM or via the mobile app, both of which only "credit" the first $200, leaving the balance to wait until one full business day has passed. Or, at least, that's how it works at the SAG-AFTRA Federal Credit Union.

So even though there were technically "SUFficient funds" in the account, those funds weren't technically available until today, so when the credit card cleared the influx yesterday, the bank called it "INsufficient funds", automatically transferred the less-than-a-hundred bux it would take to be "SUFficient", and charged me five bux for the privilege.

I am sick to death of businesses charging me nickel-and-dime fees for the PRIVILEGE of working with them!

First off, if I had known that the funds were going to wait until today, I would've waited to pay the fucking card. Secondly, I thought credit unions were supposed to be #BetterThanBanks, because "Membership has its Privileges" or some shit like that. Thirdly, no, really, actually, this should be first-point-five-ish, after one day of having withdrawn less than a hundred bux from the overdraft account, I already accrued THREE CENTS in interest! One Fucking Day equals three cents in interest on a loan, but how much interest does my hundred bux earn in savings, hmmm? Significantly fucking less.

I called the credit union. They explained it to me like I'm a fucking moron, and after "reviewing my records", they credited me the five bux. Because she was so fucking condescending, I wasn't going to ask for the three cents. But it's all such bullshit. And really, this was just the straw that broke this camel's (i.e. me/mine) back.

I've already been truly pissed off by our new utility billing. Usedtabe, water/sewer and trash were included in our rent. But #BecauseCovid, more people are home and so the landlords decided to split them "proportionately" among the tenants, and the company they use to bill us has the gall to claim that this type of billing encourages conservation. Bull-fucking-shit. But on top of that, they charged us ten bux to set up the bill (that we never requested in the first place), and then another three bux every month for the privilege of being billed that way... and if you want to pay it with a credit card, that's another two-fiddy!

#NickelsAndDimes... It's not that I can't afford these bills. I just shouldn't have to pay these ridonkulous fees. No one should. It's all just a big steaming pile of bullshit. 

Thanks for letting me rant (like you could stop me if you tried) - I'm feeling much better now. #MontyPythonForLife #ImNotDeadYet

Please use my comments section to tell me about your #NickelsAndDimes reason to bitch. I'd love to think I'm not alone in this particular irk.

Assumptions based on personal history, UPDATED

If you've been following me for awhile, you know that one of the ways I *try* to stay fit is by walking 10,000 steps each day. I'll go days at a time where I don't get close - like, if I stay in the apartment and never venture past the mailbox, I'm lucky to hit 1,000 steps. And then I'll have weeks where I average 12k-13k per day. It's no big deal, either way; I'm not bragging about my successes nor complaining about my "failures". I'm just saying - I'm a human being who has found a way to feel good about fitness through walking, and I have good days and not-so-good days.

One of my favorite reasons to get out of the house lately, is when I "win" a "give" from my local Buy Nothing group. If you're on Fakebork At All, you may know about the Buy Nothing Project. "Give Where You Live" is the motto that drives it, and it's a FREE marketplace where you can meet your neighbors. Have a sectional couch in decent shape that you don't need anymore? Post it as a "give" in your local group. Need new hot or foam rollers because your hair is long enough to work on "period" film/television and just don't have time to shop for a new set? ASK for them! Chances are, you have a neighbor who wants to unload their old-but-still-functional steam rollers! Or express your appreciation for all of the neighbors who contributed single china tea place settings for your bridal shower garden party in a "gratitude" post! It's amazing. 

Because the "marketplace" is hyper-local, receiving a gift is a very good excuse to take a walk. I don't always get 10k steps out of it, but I've learned my local routes well enough, and I do wear my Disney princess non-Fitbit thingy, so I can calculate where I need to go to get those 10k. So I get out, pick up small "gives, sometimes meet the neighbors (not always - COVID has made a lot of exchanges socially distant), get my steps.

Most days, whether I'm able to walk at my 3.5 mph pace, or I'm much slower due to foot, ankle, or knee pain, I'm walking by choice. OFTEN (far too often), some random dude in a car will pass me, honking or slowing down, to "check me out". I do what I can to ignore them. If they're blatant in their rude gawking, I'll turn to face them and angrily yell "WHAT?"... at which point they'll usually offer me a ride.

I've been stewing over this random-dudes-offering-me-rides issue for awhile. I do not know how to make it clear, once and For All Time, that I am taking a fucking walk! If I wanted to be in a car, I'd be driving!

So. Yesterday, after I was wrapped from set, I had a pick-up to make. Walking home, a car approached and slowed waaaaay the fuck down. I was already in angry yell "WHAT?" mode before I realized the driver was a little old lady. After I passed, another pedestrian couple stopped at her passenger window, and she told them that I looked exactly like her mother did, when she (her mom) was my age.

Not what I was expecting to hear. My personal experiences with walking through my neighborhood have only allowed me to assume that the driver is some rando... a horndog dude. And so I finished my walk, chastened for having yelled at a little old lady who was missing her dead mom, and I cried, missing my Mommy. 

When you assume, you make an ass outta you and me.

What's walking in your neighborhood like? Do you participate in the BNP, or anything similar? Do you still miss your dead Mommy, 15 years later? Talk to me, peeps. I've been gone awhile. I miss you! (Comment below)

UPDATE: I got home from set today, did some "stuff", and then headed out for a nearby pickup from my BNP group. Easy peasy 10k steps today. Then, as I'm reaching my block, I allow a turning car to travel before I cross the street. I know that as a pedestrian, I have the right of way, and I will often exercise that right, but just as often, I'll yield, so I don't piss off a driver enough to have him knock me on my ass with his car. So I yielded, and walked down my block towards the apartment building. Dude must've been watching me, and turned around. He traveled down my block, slowly, and asked if I wanted a ride. PLEASE say it with me: "No, I don't want a fucking ride! If I wanted to be in a car, I'd be driving!"

Fuck these fucking assumptions. I hate being right so much.

Where to Begin, to "cover" two years?

5:51 p.m. I suppose the smart thing to do would be to re-read the 16 posts I made in 2019. Yeah, that's what I'll do... hang on... BRB, as the kids say...

7:38 p.m. I can't just re-read my words. I have to re-read them aloud, because I'm more actor than writer, y'all. Sorry it took me 1.5 hours to read 17 posts. #ImADumbass #IIncludedTheOneFromThisWeek

2019 ended with plenty more work and plenty more volunteerism and probably a Christmas party or a dozen, notably at the SAG-AFTRA offices, among other places. We worked and earned some money and made some contacts and lived our fucking lives. All of us did. None of us knew.

2020 began and I continued booking background acting work. I was on set, photo-doubling for Cloris Leachman in scenes she was not able to shoot (yes, I was wigged and dressed and absolutely not shot in such a way you'd know it wasn't her)... and then the world learned of "The Chinese Virus"... and the production did everything right from the word "go"... masks and hand sanitizers and temperature checks and no more communal buffet-style catering or craft services... and I had one last day to go, which got cancelled without notice, but I guess "Finger of God" is sufficient excuse not to pay anyone for that day of work, so at the beginning of April, I filed for unemployment. By June, I'd lost my health insurance coverage (as I'd lost my eligibility by the end of March).

At some point early in 2020, Stephen was hired by Dodgers Stadium. The hiring process took some time, what with interviews and assessment tests and start paperwork and getting uniforms and such. And then the stadium cancelled the season for the foreseeable future. So every week, we'd get a direct deposit of $0.00 from Dodgers Stadium, so we'd know that Stephen still had a "job" he couldn't go to. So he filed for unemployment.

I don't remember when our apartment manager Marge died, but her husband Jack, who'd been the handyman for the building, became the manager by default, and then he got very very ill... in March or April of 2020. And then he died. We have no evidence, but we believe COVID got him. We were all pretty sad to lose Marge, but we were hit hard when we lost Jack. Everything was shut down! Everyone was home, all the damn time! Keeping our distance and wearing masks and stuff! Jack probably contracted it doing a small repair in someone's apartment, or working in his garage on somebody's car. He was probably ready to be reunited with Marge, but I hate to think how he probably suffered in his last days. And none of us knew.

Once I knew I wasn't going anywhere, I dyed my hair purple (temporary dye). Got new headshots in August.

Then it grew/washed out a fun streaky silver. Got new headshots in November.

Then I dyed it purple again. Then it grew/washed out a less-fun streaky silver but mostly dirty blonde. Got new headshots in February of 2021.

*short tangent* Then in April, both of us qualified to get vaccinated. So vaccinated we got. When they ask us to get boosters, we'll get 'em. #CrushThisFuckingPandemic *end tangent*

Then I went back to "my" blonde, but did not return to my pixie cut. Got new headshots in June.

... and "life" went on. We were staying abreast of developments, and that meme showed up, and I dove headfirst into online training, since in-person training was "over". And unemployment was supplemented, and extended, and supplemented again, and extended again, and so on. And there were stimulus payments. And God Knows, if there had been work for either of us to do that could have been done without risk of contracting a killer disease, we'd have gone back to work. We didn't stay unemployed because it paid more than employment. We stayed unemployed because it was all we could do.

I honestly don't even know how I managed it, but I got us out of debt, y'all. #Blessed and #IAmAMoneyMagnetThankYouThankYouThankYou ... got us out of debt, paid off the car and EVERY single credit card, and bought a lot of online trainings. Got set up in my home VO booth and connected with an author ("rights holder") on ACX and started producing his audiobooks. I set my finished hour rate, he agreed to it, and he just keeps throwing "one more" book at me. #VOActorGettingPaid #18BooksAndCounting

Still and all, our income tax return for 2020 looks like we're just out of college and newly married. The lowest income - TOGETHER - that either of us can remember making, in our personal histories of filing earned income taxes. And no real hope of an end to the pandemic in sight yet.

BUT the Dodgers returned to the stadium! And Stephen now gets more than $0.00 deposited most weeks, because he is gainfully employed (part-time, but still)!

I somehow got "found" by a manager in January of 2020, and after a longish "false start" to that relationship, something compelled me to reach out and figure out how to improve that relationship (get new headshots when you dye or otherwise change your hair). I've become a go-to actor/intern/technology goddess, and I have had more auditions since 2019 than I ever had in my career prior. No bookings yet, but I have at least two casting directors who invite me repeatedly to audition for their projects. Which means it's just a matter of time. #WhatsForMeIsForOnlyMe

... and in the last month or so, I've finally told my calling service (for background acting) that as long as auditions are self-taped and not live (whether in-person or virtual), there is no reason I can't be working on #SafeSets. Which means, because of COVID testing protocols, for the past 4 weeks, I have averaged ONE day per week where I didn't have somewhere to go for a production (which means I'm averaging 4 paid days of "work" per week). And because my hair is not a pixie cut, I'm back to working on "period" pieces, where I have fittings and personalized hairdressings and makeup not my "norm".

ALSO in the last month or two, Stephen and I decided that it was time for us to own a home. We started house-hunting in earnest, working with a realtor to see what we could likely afford, and reaching out to lenders to see what "the system" thinks we can afford. 

Unfortunately, because of that just-out-of-college level of income for 2020, we've had to put real estate on hold until we can compile all of our verifiable 2021 income. In the meantime, we stay busy with work, we certify for unemployment (because part-time income and/or dayplaying, as I'm doing, is still not fully employed, and therefore underemployed, even if either of us earns too much in a week to be eligible to collect benefits). The last known "extension" ends by September 11th, and neither of us is even in that extension, so unless the pandemic brings government back to addressing unemployment extensions or supplements again, when either of our "banks" runs out of money, so do we.

At least we're out of debt, yo. #ImNotWorried #ImNotEagerEither

And I think you're now caught up! Which means that I just have to not get so busy that I neglect you again! What shall we talk about next? Comment below!

Hello? Is this thing on?

HELLO FRIENDS! I know it's been forever since I visited my own blog or even those of the brilliant bloggers I used to read with any regularity. Easier to ask forgiveness than permission, though, amirite?

Here's the thing. I got lazy. Then the globe got shut down by a pandemic, and I was stuck in front of my computer with no inspiration (sound familiar?). Then I saw a meme that hit home - I just went looking for the image, which took me down a long rabbit hole, thanks, Google - "This ends in Death or Divorce". (I didn't find the meme, and I absolutely do not encourage you to search for it either)... and so, to avoid that ending of the pandemic for me, at least, I dove headfirst into online training. I was going to do everything possible to move my acting career forward!

I spent a good bit of money and time. Almost every class I invested in started with a freebie - a one-or two-day webinar that "wet my whistle", so to speak. Not every free webinar was worthless, although most were 100% a sales pitch. Some of the classes I paid for were worthless!

But joy of joys, I hit the jackpot when I found the free webinar series from David H. Lawrence XVII on Voiceover from Home. I got so much good info from the freebie, I enrolled in the yearlong curriculum and joined his merry tribe of VOHeroes. And once I had absorbed enough information to get started, I found an Amazon/Kindle author who wanted to turn his collection of e-books into audiobooks on Audible. I've been working with him since that humble beginning, and we are currently in BOOK #19! I can honestly say that without the VOHeroes free webinar, I wouldn't have found the paid curriculum, and I'd have suffered my way through COVID-19 cabin fever, and I'd probably be significantly less stable right now, both financially and mentally.

Not to suggest that DHLXVII (as I like to call David) saved my life, or anything. But I can say with absolute certainty that the course of my life was changed for the better when his webinar found me.

Do you, or does someone you know, have an interest in Voice Acting? Maybe you'd like to read audiobooks, like I do. Maybe you'd like to be a cartoon character. Maybe you'd like to be the "fast-talking legalese expert" at the end of car and drug commercials. Maybe you'd like to be the guy or gal who says "for English, Press 1". Maybe you have one of these, or other VO interests, but you Just Don't Know how to get started. I can help you with that. It's time for the annual free webinar series! 

I love David and the VOHeroes curriculum and platform so much that he's made me an "affiliate partner" to promote the free webinar series. Click Here to gain access to the five free, FULLY-LOADED webinars called "Mastering Home-Based Voice Over". The first lesson dropped yesterday at 10 a.m., and includes a Q&A covering questions asked by early registrants. It's SOOOO good! Access the video, take notes during it, add your questions in the comments section following the video, and then David will answer them in the next video.

The videos drop every other day over the course of nine days, so watch them when you can (you don't have to try to watch them "live" at 10 a.m. PST). Seriously, if you want to get started in VO, or you just want to get better at VO, you don't want to miss this five-video series. Did I mention it's FREE?

I know it's probably shitty of me to be gone so long and then come back all "sales pitchy". I'm sorry about that. Please forgive me. I really have been super busy, and in the coming days, I hope to be able to fill you in on all of that stuff. In the meantime, though, I didn't want you to miss out on this free webinar series if you have interest.

So, a question for you, as I used to always try to ask something at the ends of my posts: How have you been surviving the pandemic?

Adulting, Part the Third (Now with Pictures Added!)

Cocoa says "hi"

Hmmm...

I beg your pardon, is that your colon or a rose garden?

Purty, innit?

Smokey says "whut?"

yes, I know I'm cute and sassy, but...
It's So Short!

Adulting, Part the Second

Yeah, this is sort of a continuation – maybe I’ll get through the whole week of adulting! Monday was, of course, the MEDICAL adulting – the dreaded colonoscopy.

On Tuesday, I was booked for work! #WooToTheHoo! I drove deep into the heart of The Valley (fer shure, not “of Death”) to park in a church parking lot and then get shuttled to a grocery store where I’d previously worked on an episode of Barry.

They had asked for lots of BRIGHT clothing options, but hadn’t indicated a season, so most of us were dressed for the current season – HOT weather. When the wardrobe gal looked through my stuff, she was really only happy with my maroon jeans and hot pink sweater. I should also have grabbed my denim jacket out of my car, but I forgot (because it’s not quite “bright”). Oh, well.

I’d cooked some bacon the night before, because it was an early call time a decent distance away, and having just come off my colonoscopy, I wanted to be sure to eat keto again, once I started eating again. Not that I needed my bacon – there was definitely something appropriate at catering, but I did eat my bacon, so I’d have an empty to-go container for lunchtime! #TheyThrowAwayTheLeftoversSoImHelpingByTakingItHome

We were working inside the grocery store, so I was glad to have my thermal mugs of tea and my hot pink sweater. The work was easy, and I’ll just say this here: Peyton Manning is as sweet and funny in real life as he appears to be in the plethora of commercials he’s currently starring in.

Tuesday was a longish day (ten hours), and they didn’t break us for lunch right away, so we got five meal penalties. Which means it’ll be a nice fat paycheck. YAY! #IAmAMoneyMagnetThankYouThankYouThankYou

On Wednesday, I was home, shopping the Ikea website for a specific sleeper sofa we’d agreed was #TheOne. I’d tried to order it online over the weekend, but the website had indicated it was out of stock. So, back at it on Wednesday, there it was, waiting for me, with a $20 savings on shipping from the website vs. at the store, BUT we’d have to wait until the 29^th to get it! ... and was I interested in applying for a rewards credit card with an instant rebate, or possibly the Ikea Projekt card, with 6 months at 0% interest? Decisions, decisions! What a quandary!

So, I found where Stephen had stashed his credit card that we’d agreed we’d use (just to keep the account active), and I drove to the store. I marched my ass straight to the help desk at sleeper sofas, placed my “order”, and then marched my ass straight back down to the cashiers. None of my normal “getting steps whilst meandering the lovely large warehouse” for me that day! I was on a mission!

My adulting for Wednesday was buying a couch, y’all. And making sure that if I got booked for work, Stephen would definitely be home in the 1 – 5 window The Next Day to accept delivery. And then later, Wednesday evening, I went to the SAG-AFTRA Foundation to volunteer for a screening of John Travolta’s new movie. It was horrible, y’all. It was BORING. And for some reason, this audience full of actors kept laughing at JT’s autistic character’s faux pas(es? No, I don’t know how to pluralize a French word)! I left before the Q&A, to discover a large group of people staking out the only entrance to the parking garage, hoping to get JT to sign their paraphernalia. It was very meta. Obviously, none of them had seen the film I just watched. #UGH #IGotThis #AdultingMightSuckButSometimesWeJustGottaDoIt

On Thursday morning, I gave myself a haircut and touched up my color. I wasn’t the last one to use the Wahl trimmer, though, so when I looked for the two guards that were paired in the case, I didn’t look closely. I cut my hair too short, y’all! Yes, it’s cute and sassy and I still look good, but I no longer look like my headshots because I cut my hair too short, y’all! I normally use the 1” guard around my back and sides, and the 1.5” guard on top. Because Stephen used the trimmer set last, he’d paired the ½” with the 1”. And because I didn’t look closely, we are #BothToBlame for me cutting my hair too short, y’all! #AdultingIsHardSometimes

On Thursday afternoon, The Sofa Arrived! So, over the course of 3 hours, we both perused the pictorial Ikea build instructions, and then we built a lovely sleeper sofa. The last time we bought any real #Adult furniture, Smokey immediately peed on it to mark it as his and also to help de-gas the #NewFurnitureSmell, a.k.a. formaldehyde. To prevent that happening this time, we saved all of the big plastic wrap that the big pieces were packed in, and we kept the old futon mattress after carrying the futon frame downstairs to the alley.

So I’m sitting on a new couch that’s wrapped in plastic and has an additional big cushion that still smells like us and the cats. It’s quite stylish, yo. No, but seriously, #SometimesAdultingIsThinkingAhead

On Friday, I unfolded the couch and set the loose cushions on chairs just outside the front door to help them de-gas some more. They’re supposed to air out (and fluff up from their vacuum-sealed bags) over the course of 72 hours. I figure, better to do that in actual air, rather than in the storage cubby in the sofa. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention. #TheSleeperSofaHasStorage #W00tW00t!

Then, before I left to volunteer at the SAG-AFTRA Foundation Emmy-Nominated Stunt Panel (a much better night than Wednesday!), I tossed ONE cushion, all three covers, a wet towel, and a bunch of dryer sheets into the dryer and allowed it to run on “no heat – air dry – fluff” while I was out, put the other two cushions back in the storage, re-folded the couch, and put the chairs back under the table. Stephen won’t know all of what I did yesterday until YOU do! #ImSneakyYesIAmButTheCatsKnow

And That, My Friends, is why I won’t do two shows a night, I just won’t. No, that’s not what I wanted to say here. And That, My Friends, is my week of Adulting. What #FunNotFun things have YOU been up to?

I know you want 'em, so pictures will follow, in Part the Third!

Adulting, Part the First

I want to talk about the stuff you deal with as you grow older. On my birthday this year, I received notification in the mail that I was once again eligible for SAG-AFTRA health insurance. It has/d been a decade since I last had SAG health insurance, and in that ten years, I haven’t been unwell or unhealthy, but I have missed having the fantastic coverage that my union provides. When I was first deemed ineligible, it was because we still had two actors’ unions, so I was dividing my work time between them, and not earning enough money or days on set with either one to be eligible. In the last ten years, we’ve merged not only the two unions, but also, recently, the health plans. YAY.

So I got my eligibility notification on my birthday in June. #HappyBirthdayToMe! I completed my paperwork as soon as I could and paid my first quarter’s premium so I could start using the insurance in July. I’m not unwell or unhealthy, I remind you. But when you finally have good health insurance again after so long, you make an appointment for a wellness exam. For a woman over 40, that means a PAP smear, labwork, and mammogram. For Stephen, it means... what? I don’t even know. Vitals? A prostate exam? Anything else? I doubt it.

Also, for everyone over 50, it means a colonoscopy.

Back in 2017, I had insurance through Kaiser. It wasn’t bad coverage, by any stretch of the imagination. But for whatever reason, I lost my eligibility for that as well, and when they “prescribed” a colonoscopy back then, I got as far as picking up my Rx for Gavilyte and scheduling the procedure ... but then I cancelled the procedure, and just stored that big ol’ bottle of powder for... awhile.

Fast-forward to July of this year. I had my PAP and all my bloodwork. I got referrals for dermatology (per my new Primary Care Physician, I “have a lot of moles”. Yes, I do. So what?), mammography, and that dreaded colonoscopy. I’m supposed to follow up with each doc to schedule the necessary whatnot.

The colon doc’s office didn’t wait. They called ME. They tricked me into a consultation, saying there was a “chance” I might not even need one, if I wasn’t in any of the risk groups. Guess what? I’m over 50. That’s a risk group. So they scheduled me for the dreaded procedure for Monday of this past week, and sent me home from the consultation with a plethora of “pre-op” instructions. Stop taking all NSAIDS five days before; eat low-fiber foods (meaning NO nuts or seeds) 3 days before; go on a clear liquid diet plus colon prep 1 day before. Stay hydrated. Dress warmly for the procedure. Buy the new Rx for colon prep. Etc.

I followed “the rules” pretty closely. My original appointment was set for 1 p.m., but that got pulled in earlier to 12:15 before I was completely aware of the change, so my “day before” wasn’t quite a 24-hour period. It was close, though. I went to buy the new Rx, just in case it was “easier” than the Gavilyte I already had, and also just in case the pharmacy would buy the Gavilyte back (it had another year or two before it “expired””, since I hadn’t mixed it yet). No dice. CVS Pharmacy hadn’t filled the original Rx, so any return would have to happen at Kaiser. Also, my insurance wasn’t covering enough of the cost of the new prep, and it would have cost me a hundred bux. For a yucky prep for a procedure I didn’t even want to have! No thanks!

I did verify that the insurance was definitely covering the procedure 100%, though. If my co-pay had been, say, enough to meet my deductible, I’d have cancelled that thing AGAIN. I’m telling ya. I’m healthy! Much to my chagrin, the procedure is covered 100%. #Dammit

So now it’s the weekend before (stick with me, it's currently the weekend following, but in this tale, it's the weekend leading up to it), and I’ve altered my diet, I’ve arranged for a ride, I’ve confirmed the appointment, and I’ve mixed the Gavilyte. On Sunday, just under 24 hours before my procedure, I start drinking the Gavilyte.

Here’s what everyone tells you about colon prep: it’s a lot, and you WILL spend that day before in the bathroom. It’s a laxative, you see. A prescription-strength laxative. The idea is to CLEANSE your colon before they stick the tiny tube up there. They do tell you that it tastes yucky, but that’s all they’ll tell you.

Here’s what no one ever tells you about Gavilyte: it doesn’t take effect until you’re a few glasses in. Once it takes effect, it works almost like clockwork, depending on how quickly you can down it. It tastes like... badly mixed Country Time lemonade... thick and syrupy and vaguely lemony and vaguely artificially sweet... even though it LOOKS like water in that gallon jug! As you drink it, the gallon jug has miraculous refilling properties. I like-to-never finished that damn thing!

Well, actually, I didn’t. I got more than ¾ through, past the point where I was “pooping” brown liquid, then thick yellow bile, then clear yellow liquid. There was NOTHING solid left to poop. I mean, towards the end, the pressure to poop LIQUID meant I became a human soda stream. I kinda decided that after the procedure, I never wanted to poop again. Ennyhoo. Enough toilet talk.

On Monday, my friend Cheyanne gave me a ride in, and sat in the lobby area, working on her screenplay or whatever whilst I was whisked into the medical areas to undress down to a gown, verify that I was who the paperwork said I was, and receive my IV for the sedative. Not too long after that, the doc showed up to ask me the same shit, and then they wheeled me into the OR. I was introduced to yet another nurse, whose job it was to monitor my vitals. Before they administered the “Twilight” sedative (I’d be awake for most of the procedure and could inform them if I was feeling any PAIN), the first nurse noticed that my heartbeat was irregular. Say, what? The doc asked her if it was a “regular” irregularity or an “irregular” one. I joked that it was because I’m a musician – saying it was my percussionist soul taking over. No one got the joke, so I remarked that maybe it was due to this being my first procedure of this type (i.e. nervousness)? The doc either concurred with that sentiment, or overrode the nurse’s concerns, because he had her administer the sedative. Shortly after its administration, I was feeling the effects, and my heartbeat regulated, so... good call, doc!

I watched them weave the camera through a very foldy rosefield, and when they discovered the one polyp, they removed it before I even saw what it looked like! I did see the four clips they used to seal the wound they created by tearing out the polyp. Shortly after they installed the four clips, they were pulling the tiny tube out and unhooking my IV and wheeling me into the recovery area, where they offered me a juicebox.

Yes, I’m pretty strict about my keto, but I hadn’t eaten anything (solid) in close to 48 hours, so I was willing to consume a few carbs. Also, I was probably dehydrated, so I sucked that bad boy down. 

Then they sent Cheyanne in to sit with me for a few, and then they sent her to get the car while they transferred me from the bed to a wheelchair, and rolled me to another waiting area to receive her phone call (we had parked in a free shopping center lot, about a block away - NOT paying for parking on top of it all!). While I waited, I had another juicebox and a few packets of graham crackers – yum!

Cheyanne had gotten my postop instructions, so when she called to say the car was there, they wheeled me down and put me into her care. Next stop, Poquito Más! They had instructed “nothing too greasy or spicy”, so I got the grilled ahi on a small bed of white rice (yes, more carbs!) and felt much better.

That's some adulting, y'all. Have you had the dreaded colonoscopy? Were your experiences similar to mine? Better? Worse? Did you get pictures of the inside of your colon? Do your pics, if viewed quickly and out of focus, look like a field of roses?

Part the Second coming soon!

ManOhMan, has it been AWHILE!

I last checked in with y'all at the End Of May. Which means we didn't chat at all about my birthday in June (and I am usually #VeryPersistent in reminding people that my birthday is coming up, and asking everyone #HowDoYouPlanToCelebrateMe?)... we missed the review of my Hollywood Fringe Festival experience (just no audiences to speak of, and a lackadaisical cast)... we missed my re-acquaintance with my old friend Stephanie... we missed the two earthquakes we had on-or-about Independence Day... we missed me replacing my laptop-that-became-a-desktop-when-I-killed-the-screen... we missed my full weekend of bemoaning the loss of a decade or more of emails, some of which were probably #ImportantShit... we missed Daddy moving from Florida to Colorado (with my sister)... we missed Max's severe car accident that she is still recovering from... we missed my building of a new-for-me website (I think, maybe?)!

Currently, we have a weekend houseguest sleeping on our futon and attending acting classes with me. She still has employment #WayFarAway from "the industry" (showbiz), so mostly, she's only here on weekends. She's looking for more industry opportunities, so this couch-surfing could become #SlightlyMoreSemiPermanent, at which point she'll contribute to groceries or utilities or rent or something. We've learned from our previous houseguest leech not to become doormats!

So, because of the futon being a bed more often than it used to be, Stephen and I are looking at replacing it. He'd been researching mattresses for it, because there's honestly nothing wrong with the frame. But he's having no luck with that, so we're considering dropping about 500 on a new sleeper sofa from Ikea. We like the size; we like the "sit"; we like the "lay/lie down" (YES, I'll nitpik your grammar, but even if I look this one up, I'm not going to remember which one means "recline" so STFU!); we especially like the color! ... HOWEVER...

Stephen's laptop just crashed one too many times, and he's replaced it. But we were unable to rescue his novel, among other things, from his hard drive, which means it's currently being diagnosed by professionals. We have no doubt that they'll be able to rescue all of the files he needs, but in the meantime, we get to wait to see what that's going to cost us. It's not that we can't "afford" the 500 for the couch... but we do have to be responsible, don't we? Budget for shit that's nonessential? Right?

Speaking of diagnoses, I HAVE SAG-AFTRA HEALTH INSURANCE AGAIN! I got the notification in the mail on my birthday, which was the absofuckinglute best happy birthday celebratory dance at a mailbox I have ever had. (Hashtag AbsoFuckingLute)... so I had my general wellness exam for zero dollars and zero cents in July, and because I am #AWomanOfACertainAge, I also have to have some follow-up testing. Pray for me this weekend, when I will be fasting with tea and other clear liquids, to be put under on Monday with "Twilight" anesthesia whilst the doc pushes a tiny tube up my rectum so he can shine a tiny light on my innards, watching on a tiny camera to see if there are any polyps, and then grabbing them with a tiny grabby thingy for testing. The chance of there being at least one polyp is 50% (or did he say 1 in 50, a.k.a. 2%?). The chance of any polyps being pre-cancerous is 25% (or, again, was that 1 in 25? or 4% of the 2%? OOF. I'm good at numbers, but now I don'r remember what he said a week ago). Ennyhoo. I'll come out of the "Twilight" sleep a bit loopy, so I have to have a ride home. They will NOT release me to drive or take a Lyft or a bus or anything on my own recognizance! Luckily, my friend Max works just down the street, so she can probably let me hang out in her office or break room for the hour or so it takes me to truly recover. If that Dx is "clear", then I won't have to undergo that procedure again for ten years. And in the meantime, it doesn't cost me a dime, because I HAVE SAG-AFTRA HEALTH INSURANCE AGAIN!

Still have to get my skin checked out by a dermatologist and the girls squished by a mammographer. Yay. :-/

Also. Since beginning my Ketogenic Lifestyle (TM), I have lost twenty pounds (I was only shooting for ten), 3" off my waist, nearly 3" off my hips, and ~1" off each thigh. I've been very hit-or-miss with the daily yoga, but I know that when I was doing it more regularly, my arms and core were gaining strength. I've also been very hit-or-miss with my swimming at the Y, but when I go, I do up to :30 of laps, with just a skosh of treading water (the ol' gang isn't there anymore, so I don't have a social hour, it's just swimming). I did replace my waistband-wearable non-Fitbit thingy with a wrist wearable Disney Princesses (kid's) one, also NON-Fitbit, because I am anti-brand, for the most part. I like it. It counts my steps (10k per day IS a regular thing for me) and tracks my sleep, and lets me know if I've been still for too long (although it counts puttering around in the kitchen as stillness), and then if I have a total of one hour or more of activity in the day, it takes me on an adventure with Ariel and Flounder. It's cute.

So I'm currently catching you up while I make chocolate gelato, Keto-style. It's soooooo gooooood!

What have you been up to, since last we ... spoke (?) ?

The Depression of an Aging Family Member

A lot of my IRL and Twitter friends know that I call Daddy every day. He lives in Central Florida, in a townhouse he and Mommy bought just a few weeks before she died, in 2006. It's on a golf course, in a gated community, in the middle of no-fucking-where. In the past few (five-ish?) years, they built a Publix just outside his closest gate, and since he's got a golf cart, he'll do his twice- or thrice-weekly grocery shopping pretty conveniently. There's also a CVS Pharmacy in that lot, and everyone who works at Publix or CVS there knows him. He has friends. There's also a liquor store in that complex, so of course, he's popular there as well.

So he's getting older, as we all do, if we're lucky. He no longer golfs or even hits balls at the driving range. He doesn't walk any distance greater than the end of his driveway, most days. He doesn't eat well unless I remind him to. He drinks. He's an alcoholic, and at 3/4 century years old, that's not changing. He's had plenty of strokes and mini-strokes, so he has one of those "call an ambulance if I fall" necklaces. I have to remind him to wear that, too.

I call him every day at 1 o'clock (or 4 p.m., his time). I ask him if he's done any stretching exercises. I ask if he's been upstairs. I ask if he's checked his mail, or taken his trash & recycle bins out (or brought them back in), or walked to the gate, or walked around the grocery store. I ask if he's done any word or number puzzles. I ask what he's eaten. I ask whether he's wearing the necklace.

Most days, in addition to getting good answers to those questions, we'll also have an interesting conversation about other human contact he's had, or upcoming visits he's looking forward to. Yesterday and the day before, he was so drunk by the time I called that I barely got answers to my questions. And then before his bedtime at 8, he'd called and left me messages, wondering why I hadn't called, and whether I was dead in a ditch or something.

*Lemme tell ya. Getting a voicemail asking if you're dead because you neglected to call is disconcerting once. TWICE, it's upsetting.*

Yesterday's voicemail came through while I was out getting my steps... buying a bottle of dark rum to replenish my homemade vanilla extract... so I called him back when I got home. I yelled at him for almost five minutes, reminding him to check his call history when he wonders if I've called; reminding him that I'm eating well and exercising and therefore strong and healthy and less likely to be unexpectedly dead than he; reminding him that when he's drunk when I call, we're unable to have good conversations.

I love my Daddy. I know he's an alcoholic, and nothing I say will change that, so I don't try to change that. Yesterday, after topping off my vanilla extract jar, I stuck the remaining rum in the freezer, because by the end of my day, I needed a drink!

Daddy is moving to Colorado in a month. He's had the last visit with his baby brother that he'll ever have; his best friends have moved to Panama; his youngest son (my baby brother) will be filling his house with small children for a few days before he moves; my sister will arrive in all that bedlam to help him pack up, and that'll be it. I'm blessed to be so busy in my career right now, but I don't have time to squeeze in one last visit. And now I'm crying.

#AgingSucks, y'all. I know, I know, it's better than the alternative.

... my phone is charging, and even though it's only 9 a.m., I think I'll call Daddy early today. I need to talk to him while he's still lucid.

A Spoiler-Free Movie Review, and other catching up

#AvengersEndgame was released in theaters on Thursday night. Our local theater had not sold out for opening night, when Stephen got off work and checked. But it's a three-hour movie, and we'd have gotten home close to midnight, and he still had to work Friday morning. So on Thursday DAY, I bought our tickets for today's first showing, at 12:30.

We didn't see it at a multi-plex, per se. We saw it at a Laemmle Theater, which is half arthouse and half blockbuster. They host themed #ThrowbackThursdays, as in, for the month of May, they'll be honoring Diane Keaton's career every Thursday. Because of the nature of their business, we weren't sure what to expect at today's matinee. We planned to get to the theater before noon, so we could (hopefully) just walk right in with our tickets, plant in our favorite center seats just behind the rail, and then get Stephen's popcorn combo just prior to the trailers at 12:30.

So we left the apartment at 11:30 and walked down the block the slightly-less-than-a-mile... and discovered a queue that nearly went around the adjacent building. Nearly. The sign at the front of it asked patrons to have printed out their e-tickets (No, not like the old Disney "E" tickets) before approaching the box office, which meant, yeah, most of the folks in line would have already paid for their tickets, like us. No cutting for us! Dangit!

But the queue began moving right around 12, and it wasn't long before we were finding our second-best seats, which were slightly-left-of-center, just behind the rail. I got myself a complimentary cup of soda water, and when Stephen trekked out to hit the can, he made it through the concessions line pretty quickly, too. I mean, kudos to Laemmle NoHo, for having their act together today. I imagine that they'll have the most business this weekend that they've had in quite some time.

And now for your spoiler-free review. No, wait. Before I tell you MY experience, let me pause for a short rant. *** There are entirely too many people (trolls) out there in the media and social media and the internets and the YouTubes who are posting VITAL information about this movie. EVERYWHERE you turn, there are articles and videos about "what you missed the first time you saw Endgame" or "3000 Easter Eggs you didn't notice", etc. STOP IT, "news" sources and other "fans". Everyone who wants to see this film wants to take it in for themselves. No one wants to know who lives or who dies by the end, before getting to see it happen on that giant screen. *** End rant.

So, here's what happens: um, NO. IF you saw #AvengersInfinityWar, then you know some very important information about what you're expecting or hoping will happen in #AvengersEndgame. If you DIDN'T see Infinity War, then do you seriously have interest in Endgame? What are you even doing? Move along, little dogies, move along.

Okay, back to what I was saying. Infinity War was a rough watch. It was violent and brutal and so many people that we fans of the MCU have come to know and love DIE in it. After watching it on the big screen, I walked away ANGRY (and sad). I did NOT want to hear what any pundits thought might happen next. I did not want to watch it again. That said, over the course of this last week, Stephen and I have been binge-watching (in order) every Marvel movie that had #InfinityStones plotlines, so that we'd be caught up by today. We did watch Infinity War a second time, and while I still hated the outcome, at least I wasn't angry this time around.

Endgame starts pretty much where Infinity War leaves off, and then we jump forward five years to see how the survivors are doing. When Scott Lang finds them (which you've seen in the trailers), they form a plan to attempt to unravel all the bad stuff created by that douchecanoe twatjuice dickwhistle Thanos. So the bulk of this film is coming up with a viable plan and then acting on it. There's some fighting. There's some remorse. There's some really funny shit.

We laughed a lot. We cried a lot. There are successes and obstacles. And we (the audience) stick with the heroes, hoping and wondering and wishing and cheering through all the trials. And there are still sacrifices to make, and we the audience mourn those choices as well. There are a ton of cameos by people we haven't seen for some time (they do time-travel, as you know from the trailers). So the end credits sequence is stunning, giving credit for all of the cameos, including a couple that may have ended up in cut scenes (so look for them in the DVD/Blu-Ray editions, like we'll be doing, kids). There is no mid-credit scene. There is no end-credit scene. There is only the movie.

We liked it. All of the MCU films have led to this one, and while it feels like "closure", I can't imagine that the stories are all wrapped up. I do hope to see more of my Marvel heroes going forward.

As for my other catching up, I've been keeping busy with classes at the Conservatory, and classes that will culminate in five live performances at the Hollywood Fringe Festival, and volunteering at both the SAG Foundation and at the Conservatory,

Father Ted cast and Director
(I played Mrs. Doyle, the housekeeper)

Deuterostomes Director and Gloria + Gloria's voice

AND shooting both a multi-cam sitcom scene for a USC student and the voice of Gloria, the most intelligent being in the galaxy, who also happens to be a worm in a jar, for an AFI student film. Both of those were great fun to do, and I think I made some pretty good connections. We'll see.

I created a professional actor's website, and I've been recording kid lit audiobooks for the nieces and nephews. Then, after a great VO class, I re-recorded them, and I've been going crazy with those recordings. They're not sweetened with music or sound effects, but they are "clean" recordings of me reading to littles. You can take a listen here, if you like.

I need to get back to Jo-Ann Fabric for more yarn. I sent the Easter baskets out to the two families of young children in my family, and then while I was on the sci-fi set, I built myself a craft bag. I quite enjoyed that, so I think I may make more of those.

Oh, and yes, I'm still eating Keto, as well as doing daily yoga. I haven't yet shed a lot of weight, but five pounds did budge within the first two weeks of those practices, so I'm confident that I'll shed another five to ten pounds, and get pretty strong again. Doesn't hurt that I'm also trying to hit 10,000 steps most days, also. The Achilles tendonitis is gone/healed/cured. I feel pretty good!

So what about you? Have you seen all of the MCU films? What did you think? Any other catching up in YOUR life you'd like to chat about?

Keto and The Movies

I've been *trying* to "do" Keto, which means I'm nearly eliminating carbs from my diet whilst also eating A Lot more fat, and a reasonable amount of protein.

In order to *try* to "do" Keto, I've been reading every nutrition label, for fat/protein/carb grams, not necessarily ingredients lists... oh, who am I kidding? I have been reading ingredients lists forever. That ain't stoppin'. I've also been watching a ton of YouTube videos. My favorite Keto channels are Keto Connect and Dr. Ken Berry. There are a few others, but those would be one-offs, for me, at least.

The more videos I watch, the easier I find the Keto lifestyle to adopt. Some of the Keto Connect videos are "shopping at ______" (places like Costco and Trader Joe's, and others where you might shop), as well as reviews of pre-made Keto products (which don't matter to me at all) and recipes for fat bombs. MMMMMM, #FatBombs.

So I've been shopping. I recently discovered the Costco Business Center, as you know, and I was able to make a trek there yesterday for EVERYTHING I needed, without facing a #WalkingSamplingLunch at either the Costco Warehouse or Trader Joe's. Aaaaand I arrived home with my groceries just as Stephen was arriving home from work, which meant #BONUS, I wouldn't have to carry his ten pounds of carrots or the ten pounds of ground beef upstairs, alone. (I bought more than that, but those were the two "heavy" items).

Once everything was in the apartment, I set to combining the ten pounds of ground beef with the four pounds of ground pork, so I'd have plenty of high fat ground meat... balls. Lemme tell you, combining two high-fat meats that are also very cold from the refrigerator is #NotFun. There were multiple times when I had to use my fingers as spatulas to scrape the fat off my hands. YUCK! I don't mind eating that fat. At all. But having it coat my hands and fingers like gloves was just #Gross.

In the end, because it was so gross, and not easy work, and I'd been standing relatively still for so long in the kitchen (which gave me a back twinge), I only made 32 slightly-under-4-ounce meatballs. The other half of the ground meat got moved into freezer bags and are now living in the chest freezer.

My work, complete (well, almost)

Still 2#s of pork!

Thassalotta meatballs! 

Still 5#s of boooof!

Yes, I used all of these bowls for mixing and shaping

🎶Clean up, clean up,
everybody clean up!🎶

Then I took a little break, rewatched some of the #FatBombs videos, and set to making too many of those. I had already made chocolate-peanut-butter bombs, and I wanted some savory bombs, but also maybe cheesecake?

So I made four "everything bagel on a pepperoni slice" stars, seventeen "pizza" balls, and then enough peanut-butter-cheesecake bombs to mold in my silicone tray plus a few extra balls coated in almond flour (the "crust"). I dig them all. And I've now watched enough videos and tried enough variations that I ought to be able to create my own, original bombs. #GoodTimes!

Savory

Sweeeeet! (But not tooo)

*****

Today, Stephen and I went to see Shazam! (It's great - really fun - our favorite in the recent DCEU, or possibly sharing that spot with Wonder Woman)... and I dunno how you feel about seeing films in a theater without eating popcorn, but I was torn. Popcorn, no matter how much #RealButter you have them douse it in, is really not Keto.

But last week, we went to see Dumbo, which is really very good and hit us in all of the feels, including being too scary for young kids, probably. We recommend 8 as the minimum age. But also, we went ahead and got the full large combo, as we've always done, which comes with one free refill of corn and each of the beverages. We never get the beverage refills, but we always get the corn refill. And we'd discovered (when we saw Captain Marvel) that you can get your refill immediately, before you even get your seat. So Stephen had his large popcorn without butter, and I had mine with lots. Aaaaand a large root beer.

Possibly because of changing my diet to "only eating when hungry/eating until full/intermittent fasting" (without even taking fat:protein:carb macros into account), last weekend's large corn and soda affected me physically. Badly. I felt bloated for hours. I may have been constipated. I'm pretty sure I was sluggish. It wasn't pretty, and I didn't like it. Loved the movie; hated my physical person.

So today, before we even left the apartment, I made sure to eat a coupla #FatBombs, finish my tea, and brush my teeth. Then, when we got to the concession stand, enough time had passed for me to feel satiated. I asked if they had unsweetened soda. The dude wasn't sure that I was asking for soda water, but when he confirmed that they did, in fact, have that, he offered me the complimentary cup. Perfect. SMALL, but enough. So Stephen got a medium combo for himself, and we went in and enjoyed the hell outta the movie. Shazam! (in case you forgot)

I never once felt like stealing a kernel! And when the movie was over, I'd sipped more of my soda water than I ever really drink of my root beer, so I needed to empty my bladder before walking home. By the time we arrived here, I was ready to eat again, so YAY! Coupla slices of bacon, a crumbled meatball, some garlic spread, some ricotta, a little yellow squash and baby bell pepper, a lot of fresh spinach and basil, a handfull of black olives, some turmeric and paprika. Amazing.

I ate half of what I prepared. This is for the next time I'm hungry, I 'spose

I feel good, and I'm learning. Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?

Have YOU tried a new-for-you lifestyle change that you struggled with for awhile but eventually got the hang of? /struggled with long enough to give up? /are struggling with NOW? Hit me up in the comments below! Let's chat about it!