Right now I am about 3 and a half days into silence and if you think that means that my last 84 hours were relaxing, drama free, sex and the city marathons...you would be wrong. Oh no, in fact I have barely made it through a movie. There have been loving visitors, guest attended meals, dvr catch up and of course, no weekend goes by without a fight or two with my boyfriend. One might think that in silence who could fight, one might think that who would consider challenging a poor voiceless soul. Well let me tell you.... Dean has decided ever since I told him not to keep anything bottled up that he should always be forthright about how he feels, no matter the situation, even if that means telling me any and every time he deems my behavior abhorrent, or horrible, as he likes to call it.
Thanks Dean! Thank you for deeming my reaction to being woken up by my father and thereby saying one word out loud, one MORE word then my weeks word allotment, as horrible. You are probably right- letting something so small like speaking with a cut up vocal cord bother me is so, well, wrong! Being stressed out while not being able to express myself in any way- that must be wrong too.
What do you think this is, some sort of a vacation?
It's not.
It's an odd thing how lovers deal with each other in times of need. The people that are supposed to be the most understanding, the most comforting, more comforting then even a mothers touch, are most often the most unable to help. This could be because they are uncomfortable watching someone they love feel hurt or incapacitated or because the injured loved one does not want to to let their said lover make them feel any better.
It's hard for two people to let themselves be there for each other. Vulnerability, we are told and have been told for ages, is the hardest state to allow oneself to be in. So I am not writing today to put down Dean, he is wonderful to me, but for some reason in my vulnerability as patient and his vulnerability as caretaker we have been, well, HORRIBLE to each other.
Strangely though in the absence of my regular ability to communicate we have had to resort to typing, e mailing which means, wait for it....thinking before speaking! And oddly this has been effective, more honest and more hurtful in turn, but at least efficient and hopefully effective. We heard each other, in the silence, actually heard what the other was saying. I'm uncomfortable being out of commission, he is uncomfortable watching me in pain, he has trouble with needy, so do I. And we pissed each other off, in silence. And we made up in silence.
I don't know if it's a good sign or a bad sign that even in silence my boyfriend and I fight. If I should feel badly that I have trouble relying on someone I love or that he might have trouble being there for someone that he loves back.
Or maybe this is not a sign at all, maybe its another small argument between people who really just want to be close to each other, in silence and in health.
x
red out loud
Monday, October 15, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
Silence Becomes Me
Forecast for surgery, weather wise, was sunny. And though it was not sunny at all when I began my trip to the hospital this morning, it was certainly sunny when I left and for fear of cheesy metaphors it was sunny for me inside and out. Strangely I was relieved, happy and sort of interested in my new found silence.
When I arrived at the hospital this morning at 6:45 am (that is correct people, 15 minutes late-go figure), I actually convinced my father to take hold of the camera (I felt 6 am was too early for my dear, sweet Nicole) and shoot my entrance to the hospital, or to my fate, as I like to dramatically put it.
It is strange to walk into the hospital for an appointment for surgery. The appointments I am used are for pedicures, hair cuts, facials, maybe a standard check up of some sort, teeth cleaning. I have never walked into an appointment to have my vocal cords cut and put back together. I have never been put out with general anasthesia and I have never had an IV. I guess when and if I ever pictured myself on an operating table, it was probably in some imagined scenario replicating some scene I had scene on ER or Grey's Anatomy. I'm wheeled in on a stretcher and opened up right then and there to fix some sort of emergency situation. Yes, I am a hypochondriac and yes, I am a bit dramatic.
In any case, THIS was not how I pictured it. I walked in with my mother, registered, got past the surgery admissions by just handing them my insurance card (all fears of having to pay in full averted) and I waited. I was called into a changing room where I placed my clothing in a bag and sat in a chair and waited. I was lucky to be accompanied by my mother and eventually my father. They'd managed to both remain inside the room despite the one visitor per person policy. We waited. My dad taped a bit, played around with his new i phone and my mother tried to comfort me. I pretended to be calm as best I could, but my tapping feet gave me away. Truthfully, I was nervous about the actual surgery and I was nervous about the impending 7 day silence, but what was on my mind most immediately was getting the actual IV. The thought of a needle and then a tube stuck under thin skin for even just a few minutes grossed me out entirely.
After the changing room I had to say goodbye to my father, I would have had to say goodbye to my mother but she pushed her way into the holding room with me. She has a way with that. She sat with me as different doctors, med students, residents, nurses all came in to introduce themselves to me, as if this was some fun trip we were about to embark upon. Yipppeee!
Then my hero Dr. Carroll found me. She is my speech pathologist the one who will inevitably help me to speak again, once this loooong silent week is over. I did not realize she would actually come on the day of my surgery. But there she was to distract me from my own nerves. She held my hand all the way into the operating room and helped me hoist myself onto the operating table! Yes, there is no wheeling you in on some kind of stretcher, as seen in movies, no. You walk right in, lie down, see all of the instruments around you and then, THEN, they stuff the IV into you.
There I was, Dr. Carroll holding my hand, a bunch of med students and residents standing in a group chatting with each other, Dr. Woo enters, pats me on the back, a nurse sticks a needle in my arm, misses, finds a better vein, hits it this time and Dr. Reid, my anesthesiologist asks me if I am ready. He tells me they are just going to give me a little bit of medicine, my head may feel funny, I tell him I can handle it and the next thing I know I lose control, my head falls in, it burns and then I am out.
Beep, beep, beep....what felt like a moment later and I thought that I must be waking up mid surgery. With no control over my muscles, limbs, mind or mouth all I can think is that someone has to tell them I am waking up! Mid surgery! Then a calm voice says, that's it, you did it, you are done, you did great. Phew....so this is what people meant when they say "and then a minute later, it's over!" Ohhhh....
I had done it. I went down, I rose and I did not speak a word once I had. All I wanted to do was thank everyone, touch everyone, hug everyone. I knew I could not say anything out loud so I just mouthed- thank you to everyone I could see. Then I started shivering, uncontrollably. Apparently that is normal, something about your muscles coming back into action. Nurses chatting all around me, to me, not realizing I am on voice rest, then realizing it and still chatting. I did not care- I as just happy that somehow without my voice I was communicating, or people were at least communicating with me! I finally came to and I just could not wait to get out of there. I actually felt great, my throat burned, but the fact that I had made it through surgery and was one step closer to hearing my voice again overshadowed everything! I wanted to see my mom, my dad, my boyfriend, my friends anyone!
But I couldn't, not until I peed at least. A major step towards the recovery/release room. This part may sound weird, but I am not censoring this experience, not a second of it. Once I could feel myself again, under many warm blankets I felt the immediate urge to pee. Because I was not completely back to my senses I was not allowed to get up and go to the restroom. No one had described this part to me. The part where you slowly regain your bodily functions, public and private. I could not speak so with all of the energy I had in my body (which was very little) I lifted my right hand pointed to my bladder and the nurse in her Phillipino accent responded and said, in full voice, that she would run and get the bed pan.
Through my haze I thought, WHAT?! No way in hell am I going to pee in a public recovery room, in a plastic bin, in the shape of a toilet seat. NO WAY. Fear not- it seems the sensation was just that, a sensation. I laid on this plastic bin for a while to no avail, when the nurse finally removed it and told me to try and take a nap. Take a nap....that should be easy, I have this undying sensation that I need to pee and a man in the bed next to me whining his head off about one thing or another, not to mention an increasingly burning pain in my throat. And of course- no one to talk to about it.
Lucky for me, and i find this to most often be the case, I ran into a few people that I knew! Right there in the recovery room. My old friend Marguite, from Highschool and College was there on a visiting rotation and she saved the day by bringing over some paper and a pen to me and sharing in some voiceless catch up and gossip. Passed the time away. Before I knew it Dr. Woo was in to check on me, asked me to hum a few bars and then told me to shut up for the next week.
Eventually- after peeing not once, but twice, in the real bathroom, I got wheeled in a wheel chair (this part is just like the movies) into the final recovery room, where they took out the blasted IV had me sign some papers and escorted me out to my parents. Actually luckily enough for me a dear friend of our family was on call in the hospital that day and came to my rescue, escorting me earlier then expected out to my parents!
My father explained the the surgery had gone well, I hugged them both, I don't think I realized how much I actually missed them! I began writing away to them dropping my two written prescriptions somewhere along the way, only needing to have them refilled over the phone hours later.
I was free. Free and Captive all at once. I could hear the world, but the world could not hear me. I could peer out but no one could peer in. I sat in the back seat with my mother and my father chaueffered us home, no one having any idea what the next few days would be like.
When I arrived at the hospital this morning at 6:45 am (that is correct people, 15 minutes late-go figure), I actually convinced my father to take hold of the camera (I felt 6 am was too early for my dear, sweet Nicole) and shoot my entrance to the hospital, or to my fate, as I like to dramatically put it.
It is strange to walk into the hospital for an appointment for surgery. The appointments I am used are for pedicures, hair cuts, facials, maybe a standard check up of some sort, teeth cleaning. I have never walked into an appointment to have my vocal cords cut and put back together. I have never been put out with general anasthesia and I have never had an IV. I guess when and if I ever pictured myself on an operating table, it was probably in some imagined scenario replicating some scene I had scene on ER or Grey's Anatomy. I'm wheeled in on a stretcher and opened up right then and there to fix some sort of emergency situation. Yes, I am a hypochondriac and yes, I am a bit dramatic.
In any case, THIS was not how I pictured it. I walked in with my mother, registered, got past the surgery admissions by just handing them my insurance card (all fears of having to pay in full averted) and I waited. I was called into a changing room where I placed my clothing in a bag and sat in a chair and waited. I was lucky to be accompanied by my mother and eventually my father. They'd managed to both remain inside the room despite the one visitor per person policy. We waited. My dad taped a bit, played around with his new i phone and my mother tried to comfort me. I pretended to be calm as best I could, but my tapping feet gave me away. Truthfully, I was nervous about the actual surgery and I was nervous about the impending 7 day silence, but what was on my mind most immediately was getting the actual IV. The thought of a needle and then a tube stuck under thin skin for even just a few minutes grossed me out entirely.
After the changing room I had to say goodbye to my father, I would have had to say goodbye to my mother but she pushed her way into the holding room with me. She has a way with that. She sat with me as different doctors, med students, residents, nurses all came in to introduce themselves to me, as if this was some fun trip we were about to embark upon. Yipppeee!
Then my hero Dr. Carroll found me. She is my speech pathologist the one who will inevitably help me to speak again, once this loooong silent week is over. I did not realize she would actually come on the day of my surgery. But there she was to distract me from my own nerves. She held my hand all the way into the operating room and helped me hoist myself onto the operating table! Yes, there is no wheeling you in on some kind of stretcher, as seen in movies, no. You walk right in, lie down, see all of the instruments around you and then, THEN, they stuff the IV into you.
There I was, Dr. Carroll holding my hand, a bunch of med students and residents standing in a group chatting with each other, Dr. Woo enters, pats me on the back, a nurse sticks a needle in my arm, misses, finds a better vein, hits it this time and Dr. Reid, my anesthesiologist asks me if I am ready. He tells me they are just going to give me a little bit of medicine, my head may feel funny, I tell him I can handle it and the next thing I know I lose control, my head falls in, it burns and then I am out.
Beep, beep, beep....what felt like a moment later and I thought that I must be waking up mid surgery. With no control over my muscles, limbs, mind or mouth all I can think is that someone has to tell them I am waking up! Mid surgery! Then a calm voice says, that's it, you did it, you are done, you did great. Phew....so this is what people meant when they say "and then a minute later, it's over!" Ohhhh....
I had done it. I went down, I rose and I did not speak a word once I had. All I wanted to do was thank everyone, touch everyone, hug everyone. I knew I could not say anything out loud so I just mouthed- thank you to everyone I could see. Then I started shivering, uncontrollably. Apparently that is normal, something about your muscles coming back into action. Nurses chatting all around me, to me, not realizing I am on voice rest, then realizing it and still chatting. I did not care- I as just happy that somehow without my voice I was communicating, or people were at least communicating with me! I finally came to and I just could not wait to get out of there. I actually felt great, my throat burned, but the fact that I had made it through surgery and was one step closer to hearing my voice again overshadowed everything! I wanted to see my mom, my dad, my boyfriend, my friends anyone!
But I couldn't, not until I peed at least. A major step towards the recovery/release room. This part may sound weird, but I am not censoring this experience, not a second of it. Once I could feel myself again, under many warm blankets I felt the immediate urge to pee. Because I was not completely back to my senses I was not allowed to get up and go to the restroom. No one had described this part to me. The part where you slowly regain your bodily functions, public and private. I could not speak so with all of the energy I had in my body (which was very little) I lifted my right hand pointed to my bladder and the nurse in her Phillipino accent responded and said, in full voice, that she would run and get the bed pan.
Through my haze I thought, WHAT?! No way in hell am I going to pee in a public recovery room, in a plastic bin, in the shape of a toilet seat. NO WAY. Fear not- it seems the sensation was just that, a sensation. I laid on this plastic bin for a while to no avail, when the nurse finally removed it and told me to try and take a nap. Take a nap....that should be easy, I have this undying sensation that I need to pee and a man in the bed next to me whining his head off about one thing or another, not to mention an increasingly burning pain in my throat. And of course- no one to talk to about it.
Lucky for me, and i find this to most often be the case, I ran into a few people that I knew! Right there in the recovery room. My old friend Marguite, from Highschool and College was there on a visiting rotation and she saved the day by bringing over some paper and a pen to me and sharing in some voiceless catch up and gossip. Passed the time away. Before I knew it Dr. Woo was in to check on me, asked me to hum a few bars and then told me to shut up for the next week.
Eventually- after peeing not once, but twice, in the real bathroom, I got wheeled in a wheel chair (this part is just like the movies) into the final recovery room, where they took out the blasted IV had me sign some papers and escorted me out to my parents. Actually luckily enough for me a dear friend of our family was on call in the hospital that day and came to my rescue, escorting me earlier then expected out to my parents!
My father explained the the surgery had gone well, I hugged them both, I don't think I realized how much I actually missed them! I began writing away to them dropping my two written prescriptions somewhere along the way, only needing to have them refilled over the phone hours later.
I was free. Free and Captive all at once. I could hear the world, but the world could not hear me. I could peer out but no one could peer in. I sat in the back seat with my mother and my father chaueffered us home, no one having any idea what the next few days would be like.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
7 Day Forecast!
I can not imagine what the days ahead of me will hold. I keep looking in any direction to gain some sort of hint or sign, but nothing. The only sense of what the future will hold for me is in the forecast, at least I know if the sun will shine or rain will pour. In a way it gives me some confidence. At least I know those days will actually come and go with some semblence of weather conditions!
It could be worse!
Fri
Oct 12
Few Showers
59°/48° 30%
6 Good
Check Your Local Event Forecast
Sat
Oct 13
Few Showers
58°/46° 30%
7 Good
Sun
Oct 14
Mostly Sunny
62°/46° 10%
8 Very Good
Mon
Oct 15
Mostly Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Tue
Oct 16
Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Wed
Oct 17
Sunny
65°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
Thu
Oct 18
Partly Cloudy
66°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
It could be worse!
Fri
Oct 12
Few Showers
59°/48° 30%
6 Good
Check Your Local Event Forecast
Sat
Oct 13
Few Showers
58°/46° 30%
7 Good
Sun
Oct 14
Mostly Sunny
62°/46° 10%
8 Very Good
Mon
Oct 15
Mostly Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Tue
Oct 16
Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Wed
Oct 17
Sunny
65°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
Thu
Oct 18
Partly Cloudy
66°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
Saturday, October 6, 2007
5:58 AM
It is 5:58 am. I am awake by accident. It is now officially 6 and a half days until the doctor scratches up my vocal cords. that makes it 6 and a half days until I enter a 7 day silence. Which at first sounded like a funny joke to me, I mean what better a punishment for years of big mouthing it then to have to shut up for 7 days, but I must say I am really nervous about it. Not because it won't be fun, not because I will be lonely and not because I won't be able to communicate, but literally because I am afraid I won't be able to do it. I am sort of scared that I will actually just forget to keep quiet, that I will unravel, give up, or worse speak in my sleep. My speech pathologist told me I can not make a sound, not even cough, not laugh, not nothing.
So now I am up at 5:58 am on a Saturday morning thinking about how I am going to get through these 7 days. And in thinking about how, I sort of start to think, why?
Why do I care this much about my voice. I've just had 3 months off, 3 months, and I am not sure what I have accomplished. I have not been working, I have not been writing any new material and I have not been pushing my music in any which direction at all. All of the video footage that I have taken for the documentary is sitting on hard drive in my boyfriend's apartment waiting to be edited. I've tried, but it's difficult and time consuming and I don't really know how to use the program. I have this blog, but I have not figured out how to upload photos or make it look like anything more then a standard on line blog.
Basically, I am stuck, stuck and can't even sleep through it. It is strange to fall so low and not really know what to do about it other then wait and see how things pan out.
So now I am up at 5:58 am on a Saturday morning thinking about how I am going to get through these 7 days. And in thinking about how, I sort of start to think, why?
Why do I care this much about my voice. I've just had 3 months off, 3 months, and I am not sure what I have accomplished. I have not been working, I have not been writing any new material and I have not been pushing my music in any which direction at all. All of the video footage that I have taken for the documentary is sitting on hard drive in my boyfriend's apartment waiting to be edited. I've tried, but it's difficult and time consuming and I don't really know how to use the program. I have this blog, but I have not figured out how to upload photos or make it look like anything more then a standard on line blog.
Basically, I am stuck, stuck and can't even sleep through it. It is strange to fall so low and not really know what to do about it other then wait and see how things pan out.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
SILENCE
Days after my last entry I write with good and bad news. Lots of it.
#1 I have rescheduled my surgery for October 12th, since I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to sing at Carnegie Hall on the 10th and felt that rescheduling my surgery was worth that show. So the good news is that I did not have to wait long for a new date and the bad news is I am only 10 days away from my upcoming 7 day SILENCE.
#2 In rescheduling my surgery I found out that my insurance will in fact cover part of this cost if I do want to go with the number 1 doctor of choice. Good news is- I get to use a widely known and trusted doctor in this field. Bad news is- he is not half as hot as the "covered by my insurance" doctor (also a talented one). But I suppose in the case of your life- hot is not what counts. Whatever....
#3 I am half way towards booking my company's first big event (and my return to social life event) taking place on December 5th at the Rockwood Musichall! YAY!!! Go www.rebelspiritmusic.com!
And that is that. All the Good and Bad news.
Last night I had a dream about silence, I was silent throughout the entire dream, on the subway, in stores and whatever else I did in my dream for the day. It was not easy and I know it wont be easy. i cant imagine the kind of things I will come up with when the only person I can talk to for 7 days is myself.
Should be an interesting Journey. I will say, it is making both my parents and my boyfriend a little happier then I would have expected- ouch ;)!
#1 I have rescheduled my surgery for October 12th, since I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to sing at Carnegie Hall on the 10th and felt that rescheduling my surgery was worth that show. So the good news is that I did not have to wait long for a new date and the bad news is I am only 10 days away from my upcoming 7 day SILENCE.
#2 In rescheduling my surgery I found out that my insurance will in fact cover part of this cost if I do want to go with the number 1 doctor of choice. Good news is- I get to use a widely known and trusted doctor in this field. Bad news is- he is not half as hot as the "covered by my insurance" doctor (also a talented one). But I suppose in the case of your life- hot is not what counts. Whatever....
#3 I am half way towards booking my company's first big event (and my return to social life event) taking place on December 5th at the Rockwood Musichall! YAY!!! Go www.rebelspiritmusic.com!
And that is that. All the Good and Bad news.
Last night I had a dream about silence, I was silent throughout the entire dream, on the subway, in stores and whatever else I did in my dream for the day. It was not easy and I know it wont be easy. i cant imagine the kind of things I will come up with when the only person I can talk to for 7 days is myself.
Should be an interesting Journey. I will say, it is making both my parents and my boyfriend a little happier then I would have expected- ouch ;)!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Validated
Strangely, an on line blog somewhat validates your otherwise "unidentifiable" life. One minute you are just another girl walking the streets, running your errands, doing your job (whatever that may be), dating the men you date, surviving the drama that impacts most anyone's life at one time or another: family, friends, love, hate. Or maybe you are one of those people that does not have drama on a regular level, maybe its worse. Either way, writing it down makes it all the more real and at the same time can take you out of it. So people write and now, thanks to the internet, people can write about and show it to the world. And then maybe get a book deal, or advertising or some kind of reward that turns your everyday life into something spectacular, makes you feel big and I suppose "Identifiable." Some feel the book deal part is meaning and I feel the validating my otherwise empty days much more meaningful, even if i'm the only one to read this thing.
I literally write this blog because I have no one else to talk to during my days in waiting. Plus, I am really not supposed to talk out loud that much, which for me is the most drama I've had in a long time. Worse then any boy drama, friend drama, hell, even family drama, is the thought that I cant speak out loud. OUT LOUD.
SO in a way- this blog, whether anyone is reading it or not, validates my boring and QUIET existence and since i am not afraid to share most of my life with the people that do read it, you actually get some fun little stories and tid bits. I'm VALIDATED!
So in news. I CAN"T USE THE HOT DOC. Boo hoo. But the reason is good, and that is the fact that my idiot insurance company has finally agreed to cover most of my surgery bill with my first choice (older and less hot, but more experienced- one must prioritize) doctor!
Yay!
And in finding out that I would once again need to push off my date of inevitable surgery I freed up October 10th just as my friend Dov from the band Fools for April asked me to join him, THAT NIGHT, singing on stage at Carnegie Hall for the Elton John Tribute. Yes, that is a bill that includes Fools for April, ummm....Joss Stone, Pheobe Snow, Shawn Colvin and AIMEE MANN! (and me)!
Yay!
Last night at the New York Songwriter's Circle. Ari Hest, James Maddock, Matt Mayfield and the glorious Hugh Prestwood. One of my favorite nights to host and not just because Ari is a cutie! Well done gentlemen.
www.songwriters-circle.com
bye now!
I literally write this blog because I have no one else to talk to during my days in waiting. Plus, I am really not supposed to talk out loud that much, which for me is the most drama I've had in a long time. Worse then any boy drama, friend drama, hell, even family drama, is the thought that I cant speak out loud. OUT LOUD.
SO in a way- this blog, whether anyone is reading it or not, validates my boring and QUIET existence and since i am not afraid to share most of my life with the people that do read it, you actually get some fun little stories and tid bits. I'm VALIDATED!
So in news. I CAN"T USE THE HOT DOC. Boo hoo. But the reason is good, and that is the fact that my idiot insurance company has finally agreed to cover most of my surgery bill with my first choice (older and less hot, but more experienced- one must prioritize) doctor!
Yay!
And in finding out that I would once again need to push off my date of inevitable surgery I freed up October 10th just as my friend Dov from the band Fools for April asked me to join him, THAT NIGHT, singing on stage at Carnegie Hall for the Elton John Tribute. Yes, that is a bill that includes Fools for April, ummm....Joss Stone, Pheobe Snow, Shawn Colvin and AIMEE MANN! (and me)!
Yay!
Last night at the New York Songwriter's Circle. Ari Hest, James Maddock, Matt Mayfield and the glorious Hugh Prestwood. One of my favorite nights to host and not just because Ari is a cutie! Well done gentlemen.
www.songwriters-circle.com
bye now!
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Deep Thoughts by Red Out Loud: What to Do with Loads of Free Time
It's weird to live life and not actually do anything. Literally spending days biding time. In my life absence or absence of life I have aquired an addiction. To TV. And it makes sense to me. I mean, think about it, if your life is in limbo what else would you want to do? Watch a million lives that are not your own and pretend you are accomplishing what they are. yay.
I can't tell you how many minutes of this wait time I spend thinking about what I else I could do with my so called life. You would think when you lose your voice, you are a singer and you can't sing all you would think about would be singing, performing, playing music- things obvious like that. Not me. I think of everything else I could be, everyone else I could be. This may seem depressing to you, but it doesnt actually make me sad. It is just sort of something I do to pass my time. I suppose the sad part of it is that I could be doing some work towards my ultimate goal, but it seems without the product to sell I can't do any of the prep work either. Writing, meeting, none of it. So I am working on other people and other people's goals, diving head first into other people's lives. The way I do with my favorite TV characters.
Please watch the following shows if you too are looking for a diversion from your reality or lack there of:
Californication: mysoginistic but playful parody of life as a writer in LA. It tries to be deep and may achieve just that eventually, however at this point it simply morally derails women and their roles in LA society, something women in LA (forgive me for generalizing) have probably asked for.
Mad Men: Seemingly mysoginistic, but really only a depiction of an utterly mysoginistic, bigoted, closed hearted time period in our history. Cant blame them for acting and writing the truth. Intelligent gaze into the hearts and minds and flaws of all those personalities that made it up: buttoned up executives with lots to hide, Doris day housewives with lots to hide, working girls with lots to hide and even bohos with lots to hide. Seems mans tragic flaw has corrupted our world, work and home, for a very long time.
Tell Me You Love Me: 4 couples in different stages of their relationships explore the problems that go with them. FIghting through issues that in an ideal world would be worked through, but in real life might just remain issues to be worked through. Constantly.
All shows prove life, love and the pursuit of happiness (ah the age old cliche) are borderline unachievable at best.
Sould I take a hint?
Maybe it is no wonder that all three of these shows get me each time! I will blame it on the time I have, so much so that I can write to you about it all, or maybe its the 3 diet cokes I drank tonight keeping me up. I'm not supposed to drink Diet coke, but with 3 weeks until my surgery I have somehow deemed all inappropriate treatment of my voice allowable.
Stupid, really.
Cut to me at this very moment....About to sleep in my boyfriends empty bed in brooklyn while he rides DIsney land with his little nephews, my best friend is also my boyfriends roomate, she's in her bedroom lost again over her on and off boyfriend and there is a clock ticking above my head. Loudly.
Good thing I have ear plugs.
I can't tell you how many minutes of this wait time I spend thinking about what I else I could do with my so called life. You would think when you lose your voice, you are a singer and you can't sing all you would think about would be singing, performing, playing music- things obvious like that. Not me. I think of everything else I could be, everyone else I could be. This may seem depressing to you, but it doesnt actually make me sad. It is just sort of something I do to pass my time. I suppose the sad part of it is that I could be doing some work towards my ultimate goal, but it seems without the product to sell I can't do any of the prep work either. Writing, meeting, none of it. So I am working on other people and other people's goals, diving head first into other people's lives. The way I do with my favorite TV characters.
Please watch the following shows if you too are looking for a diversion from your reality or lack there of:
Californication: mysoginistic but playful parody of life as a writer in LA. It tries to be deep and may achieve just that eventually, however at this point it simply morally derails women and their roles in LA society, something women in LA (forgive me for generalizing) have probably asked for.
Mad Men: Seemingly mysoginistic, but really only a depiction of an utterly mysoginistic, bigoted, closed hearted time period in our history. Cant blame them for acting and writing the truth. Intelligent gaze into the hearts and minds and flaws of all those personalities that made it up: buttoned up executives with lots to hide, Doris day housewives with lots to hide, working girls with lots to hide and even bohos with lots to hide. Seems mans tragic flaw has corrupted our world, work and home, for a very long time.
Tell Me You Love Me: 4 couples in different stages of their relationships explore the problems that go with them. FIghting through issues that in an ideal world would be worked through, but in real life might just remain issues to be worked through. Constantly.
All shows prove life, love and the pursuit of happiness (ah the age old cliche) are borderline unachievable at best.
Sould I take a hint?
Maybe it is no wonder that all three of these shows get me each time! I will blame it on the time I have, so much so that I can write to you about it all, or maybe its the 3 diet cokes I drank tonight keeping me up. I'm not supposed to drink Diet coke, but with 3 weeks until my surgery I have somehow deemed all inappropriate treatment of my voice allowable.
Stupid, really.
Cut to me at this very moment....About to sleep in my boyfriends empty bed in brooklyn while he rides DIsney land with his little nephews, my best friend is also my boyfriends roomate, she's in her bedroom lost again over her on and off boyfriend and there is a clock ticking above my head. Loudly.
Good thing I have ear plugs.
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