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Big Emotions – BIG Love for ABM!

I’ve kinda had a soft spot for Liza Weil ever since she declared, ‘I want my ABM!‘ Seeing her this season as Aster’s therapist, Dr Glass, has only confirmed my belief that ‘Anyone But Me‘ has some serious talent involved in every part of it. I’ve never been a big believer in therapy, this coming from someone with a Psych degree, but Dr Glass is pretty damn cool in my books.

If the ABM love wasn’t enough she’s married to one of my current favourite TV doctors, Paul Adelstein – aka Coop in Private Practice, and he shares my addiction! I want my ABM all the time too. During the ABM hiatus I’m definitely going to have to search out what else Liza Weil’s been in. IMDB tells me her resume includes the ‘West Wing’ and, like ABM, I never need an excuse to watch that show.

I’m so glad she came back in the new ep and I’m really hoping she makes an appearance in S3. I’ve got a gut feeling that Aster’s going to need someone to talk her to her senses. As much as the season finale of S1 left me with the biggest grin I fear the writers won’t be so kind this time around. I would happily be wrong on this though if the ABM gods (Susan Miller/Tina Cesa Ward I’m talking to you) feel the same way.

Anyway, enough of me – have at it…Ep2. 9 – ‘Private Rooms and Public Spaces

***WRN SPOILERS ABOUND!!!***

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Crack Addict

I’ve been on the Crack for almost 2mths now. A reticent entrant into the Cult of Crackberry I am now a loyal and subservient follower. My life is controlled by that little red flashing light. I feel like those bugs in ‘A Bug’s Life’ that are drawn to the bug zapper, ‘I can’t help it. It’s just so beautiful…’ *BZZZZZT* Like a beacon on the darkest night it calls to me and wills me to check what urgent matter requires my attention now.

I fully knew what I was getting into. I’d witnessed each of my friends in turn become Crack Addicts. Their thumbs continually tapping away on the device that seldom left their hands and was always within reaching distance should the light beckon. Even those friends that weren’t particularly techy, and I have always been techy, were transformed by this world of *PING*s and apps. Those that haven’t been initiated into the Cult very much want to be.

Now I love my Sony X1. I have always loved Sony Ericsson phones and when I don’t get one in my upgrade I am always counting the days until I can. I will always advocate them over any other phone. Nokias are fine if you want a phone that’s easy to use, Motorolas are very pretty if you don’t mind going into menu upon menu to access the most basic of functions, Samsungs are fine – they’ve afforded my sister trips to South Africa and me a Wii in their promotions. I am brand loyal to Sony, however, I am now most definitely a Crack Addict.

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Three-quarters

29¾. That’s exactly how old I am today. Three-quarters into the final year of my 20s. One of my bestest told me she thought we were too old to fractionalise our ages. I told her I prefer it. I joked that it helps negate the years that come before. I like being twenty-nine though, I’m sure many people enjoy being twenty-nine – again and again. I like it despite what comes next.  I’m quite happy to be turning the “Big 3-0”.

I think partly that’s because I didn’t think I’d get there. It’s not because I harboured hopes for an early demise, far from it. I just always thought that if I did get there, I wouldn’t last for too much longer. I didn’t mind getting old, I know that it’s a privilege denied to many. I simply couldn’t see myself getting past that age. I’m still not sure that I do, but I certainly hope so.

Of my years I have one regret. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred if you offered me a trip in a Deloreon I would turn you down. I cannot guarantee that my life would be as it is had I not made the choices I have, and I believe that my life is currently what it needs to be. Still there is that one moment, that one time in a hundred, where –  if I could, I would like to see if it could have turned out differently. One moment I’d consider risking today for.

I have been a great many things to many different people. Not all of them fun, but perhaps necessary. Today I am me again. It’s only recently that I’ve started to feel that. Yesterday I said the words that confirmed I’m back. When others know of my choice I know that they’ll question it but I could never do sustained happiness, it’s not who I am. Even when the scales are pushed in my favour, I can’t. I have learnt that I require balance. I begin to see too darkly without it. When there’s a part missing, you need to replace it. I’m better this way.

The years have been unexpected, in the best possible way. I don’t think I could have predicted a single moment, I know given the choice I probably wouldn’t have chosen them. Sometimes it’s better that those decisions are out of your hands. The final stretch, almost certain to be as much of an adventure as the rest of it has been. Though I believe tomorrow is promised to no one, I still find myself smiling at the possibility.

Twenty-nine years…and three quarters. Wow. I made it.

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Mess of A Dreamer

Their face everywhere. Now I choose to see. Too long that part of me denied, never gone. The shadow cast not them, but me. I realise that now. In the darkness where I stood and smiled at the light I know that this is what I have chosen.

That happiness, that joy, so many smiles. It could never be sustained. I was never built that way. Though surrounded, that’s not how I know how to live. Blinded. The brilliance too much for me.

With new words still lost to me and the old too hard to say I let myself be found. Unable to reconcile those parts of me alone but knowing I need both. To value what it is I have, to know the consequence should I let it go, I need to be reminded how many times I have lost.

I returned to where I knew I would be asked the questions for which I did not have the answers they wanted to hear. I heard the apology given without the meaning needed behind it. Unknown that the word that always fell so easily from their lips contained a promise to do better. A promise that could never be kept without the knowledge behind it.

Decision made. My life so very full. Left off-balance when the scales were tipped too far. I can no longer exist in extremes. The newly reclaimed piece needing to find its place without being forced. The picture incomplete without it. Slowly. Tentative placement. I need it to be whole.

When no one else was looking I knew I would go back. When no one else was looking I found myself finally hearing the words. When no one else was looking, I couldn’t be anyone but me.

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Back to Me(?)

The first week of a new year, a decade is over. To say that I’ve been feeling out of sorts since the new year is either apt or an under-statement, at least I hope it’s one of those. I know this feeling, I know how to feel this way. I know it because it’s how I used to feel – and I hope this isn’t that.

Today I stopped as I cleared away old newspapers. One article: ‘The Year of Living Joyously’. It was the ‘joy’ that caused me to pause. That small three-letter word that describes perfectly how I felt for the second half of last year. In those months the glass was more than half full, it overflowed. Life was mine and it was good. And even when it wasn’t, all it took was for me to remember, and it was easy again. I appear to have carelessly misplaced that so far this year and I wanted to feel it again, so I read.

‘Have you been put under a spell? Have you been tamed and domesticated? Or can you still walk on the wild side when you need to?…Long ago, for reasons that were appropriate at the time, you toned down a part of your personality that could be scarily fierce at times. You learned diplomacy, discretion and patience. Arguably, you learned it too well. You started to accept situations that ought to have been challenged and changed. You began to fear the consequences of controversy.’

Strip away the words to their bare bones and that’s how I feel. Like I have denied too long who I am. It’s not just recently. If I am honest I’ve always questioned whether I had changed. That shadow I thought was the mask, perhaps it isn’t. Maybe everything else was the illusion.

I’ve made the mistake before; thinking that if I closed that part of my life off that sometimes made the laughter scarce that it would have no effect. I was wrong. I saw it every time it surfaced. I still see it now, permeating through the cracks in the smiles even though I have chosen those most destructive parts of my past no longer have a place in my present.

Certain words still resonate too loudly in empty halls. Feelings evoked I choose to ignore no longer. Instead, like a fallen but not defeated soldier I take this time to sit and let the wounds heal. I rest my eyes for a moment knowing that I will rise eventually. When the pain subsides I shall return to my feet having known what it is to fall.

In the quiet time when I realise how far I have come, I must first remember where it is I started. Too easy to fall back. Temptation calling me to test how strong my resolve. That’s the only true test after all. Happiness is easy. When everything that is good in you is because of those you choose to surround yourself with, it’s easy. Who you are without them, that’s when you learn who it is you’ve become.

Time for me to decide who that is, and accept the decision.

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Dear Santa…

Many years ago, back in the LiveJournal days we started off a little tradition of our own in regard to Christmas gifts. I haven’t done it in a while, but I was reminded of it this year in a conversation between an old friend and a new one. I remembered it and it made me smile, so I thought I’d bring it back.

Think of it as a sort of Secret Santa (only sometimes not so secret) for people who you know so much about but may not know their address or any other “real lfe” thing about them. Of course, the medium has changed somewhat over the last few years so the guidelines have had to change slightly but the prinicpal remains the same.

I know that this year more than most our wallets have been hit hard. So everything on the list is something that will not cost you a penny, just some time and thought if you have those to spare. Those familiar with my old LJ know how this works, for those of you new to this tradition the guidelines are pasted below.

Please, feel free to post this to your own whatevers, it was always one of my favourite parts of the festive season. It’s always fun to see what it is people wish for and often surprising to find people willing to fulfill your wishes in return. Trust me. Spread the joy.

If you want to have a wishlist but don’t have somewhere to post this then please post your lists in the comments section and I will forward any answered wishes to you (unless I don’t know you in which case it might be a bit difficult but you can always e-mail me your contact details).

Anyway, without further ado…

Make a post (public, friends locked, filtered…whatever you’re comfortable with) to your LiveJournal/blog/MySpace/FB/wherever. The post should contain your list of 10 holiday wishes. The wishes can be anything at all, from simple and fandom-related (“I’d love a just_go_to icon that’s just for me”) to medium (“I wish for _____ on DVD”) to really big (“All I want for Christmas is a new car/computer/house/TV.”) The important thing is, make sure these wishes are things you really, truly want.

– If you wish for real life things (not pics or icons), make sure you include some sort of contact info in your post, whether it’s your address or just your e-mail address where Santa (or one of his elves) could get in touch with you.

Also, make sure you post some version of these guidelines. Surf around your friendslist (or friendsfriends, or just random journals) to see who has posted their list.

And now here’s the important part:

– If you see a wish you can grant, and it’s in your heart to do so, make someone’s wish come true. Sometimes someone’s trash is another’s treasure, and if you have a leather jacket you don’t want or a gift certificate you won’t use–or even know where you could get someone’s dream purebred Basset Hound for free–do it.

You needn’t spend money on these wishes unless you want to. The point isn’t to put people out, it’s to provide everyone a chance to be someone else’s holiday elf–to spread the joy. Gifts can be made anonymously or not–it’s your call.

There are no rules with this project, no guarantees, and no strings attached. Just…wish, and it might come true. Give, and you might receive. And you’ll have the joy of knowing you made someone’s holiday special.

My Wish List

On a personal note, I’m not about to post my address on a place where I have no filters. So all of the items on the list are things that can be e-mailed to me at GemsCreamCracker@googlemail.com. I will of course wait until Christmas morning (i.e. one minute after midnight) to open any answered wishes. For some I’ve asked for an explanation, for others I haven’t. Please, if you want to tell me why then I’d love to hear your reasons. I know sometimes though it’s difficult to articulate why something’s your favourite, some things simply are.

Many of the items I’ve wished for could actually be physical things, I’m a very big fan of things that are handwritten. It’s a thing. I’d tell people to send things to the job but chances are it’d get logged and made into a case before I even saw it. Believe me, it happens. If you’re particularly ingenious you may find a way around this.

1. A movie.
Tell me the title in an e-mail. In a separate attachment tell me why you love it, I’ll read your reasons after I’ve seen the movie and we’ll see if we agree. Try not to pick something so obscure that I’m going to have trouble finding it.
2. A playlist.
Include songs that either:
a. You think I’d like
b. You really like
c. That remind you of me
d. That you think should remind me of you
e. All of the above
3. One (or more) of your favourite pictures (of anything) and the reason why they’re loved.
4. A four page letter. No more. No less.
5. A story.
6. Your favourite thing online.
Website, blog, YouTube video, tweet, web series. Absolutely anything.
7. Words that mean something to you and/or are your favourite.
Lyrics, a poem, a book, dialogue, a blog. It doesn’t have to have been written by you. If so inclined, tell me why.
8. Your favourite piece of music.
9. Your favourite recipe.
10. Something that will make me smile.

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Fall’s Begun

It’s the last weekend of the summer, officially – at least on this side of the ocean, and I chose to spend it with my very best. Even those that are too many miles away, their presence is felt in the laughter. That smile that is always found in the company of those who have chosen to keep me, and I am so very thankful that they have.

This is perhaps the last time, for some time, that we’ll all even occupy the same geographical space; each of us off on our own individual adventures. Some travelling across the ocean in search of the summer that often eluded us. Some taking great lengths to share a meal with a friend because they don’t know when the next time will be possible. Some taking that more frightening journey into the next stage of their life. Some taking decisive steps towards a future we’ve always hoped for them. Others still, taking that trip home.

It’s possible that even if we were physically in the same space we may not all have been able to come together. Our schedule’s often meaning that at least one of us isn’t present. Their absence always forgiven, their presence always missed. They make the act of breathing easier, and the laughter so hard it hurts. A reunion when we all eventually return already plan. A single word all that was needed to plant the seed to a new adventure.

It is at this time I choose to start again. As we all get ready to set out on our respective adventures I find myself wanting to revisit that part of me that I have missed and whose return I have hoped for: my words. Too long feared that they were irrevocably lost, that it had become too hard to be that person who felt those feelings that made the words possible. Still sometimes too hard to feel those things, but with new knowledge I can allow the words to return.

I feel myself hungry for them now. My fingers itching when they stay away from the words too long, whether it’s in the writing or the way they move across a page feeling the words beneath them before they are read. Stories waiting to be told, experiences that require commitment to something more constant than my own memory, my thoughts needing to be remembered.

It’s just over six years since I first started to take the chronicling of this life seriously. That single decision to start making a record has lead to my path into unexpected territory. Friendships forged between words, often unspoken yet somehow understood. Those choosing to read them coming to learn more about me than those I had shared a lifetime with. My thoughts laid bare, finally me. Those that stayed coming to be the people I now find completely necessary. My bestest.

Here on this blank canvas I will find the words again. It is more than time. Summer still has some time to linger, and I hope it does. Fall is most definitely making its return.

I’ve only just begun.

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