I Didn't Say That I Beat All The Blind Kids

There was a run - a fundraiser -- that benefitted the Children's Center for the Visually Impaired in the Kansas City Metropolitan region. My law firm sponsored a bunch of employees to participate in the event. It was a good run for me. I got up at 6:30 a.m. in the morning. It was a long day for me.

I have to admit I was kind of nervous about running. Main reason because usually the most I ever run is 3.1 miles (5K). It also makes me nervous to completely rely on the course organizers to get me water when I need it. Typically, a course will have water every mile, or every five miles. Long story short, I own a lumbar waist mounted camelbak. It fits my keys, cell phone, some powerbar energy gel, map of the course, and, of course, the water camelbak. I totally wanted to bring it, but didn't want to because I'd be the only one. And I was the only one. I was also a little nervous because I didn't have a running buddy. And I didn't want to be last.

At the event there were a number of blind and visually impaired children that participated. It was pretty cool. They belong to Adventure Fitness; an organization that train and encourage blind and visually impaired children to participate in physical fitness activities, like running or karate. In this event, a sighted person held a cloth, about 12-inch by 3-inch, and a blind or visually impaired person held the other end ("tethered runner"). They ran, jogged, or walked together.

People keep asking me how I did. My goal was to finish and I did it. (And yes for the record one of the tethered runners did complete the run before me ("beat me"); but not all of them.)

I'm excited about this summer:
lawyering stuff
volunteering
swimming
running
biking

Missing KC:
acting community
comfort stuff -- I know where stuff is okay

This run was just what I needed to get motivated. I have to learn how to do the breaststroke (and keep practicing the crawl and backstroke; get some open water stuff going). I think I'll see if my nieces want to volunteer or run with me.

Free Rabies

I had a dream last night that I was biten by a rabid light gray cat. The cat, well, what could it do, biting was in it's nature, right? I wasn't mad at the cat. In my dream, we were waiting downstairs in the cellar. Maybe we were just living; I couldn't tell. I went upstairs because we all heard a noise, I closed the door behind me just in case that something was a danger to us all. That's when I saw the cat and a man. I didn't know the man, but he seemed familiar and fun. I looked out the window. The ground was parched and tall yellow grassed swayed with the rhythm of the wind. A dilapidated swing creaked. Two stripped orange and yellow cats perched in a tree full of purple flowers.

The Man looked concerned but calm despite a rabid cat stratching, pissing, and biting at him. He was remarkeably calm. I walked closer to them; to try and help him with the cat. That's when I was biten. The cat floated away and joined the purple flowers. I knew I couldn't return to the cellar. Who knows when I'd demonstrate the horrible signs of being infected? For some reason medicine wasn't an option.

The next thing I know we, the man and I, are in a tall field of blue corn. The field is near a football field. We could see the bleachers and hear the cheerleaders shouting. We were in the field because that's where I parked my convertible Viper. I vaguely remember owning it, but when we climbed into the car I pulled the keys out of my jean's pocket. Had the keys to this beautiful car been there all along? We took off towards the mountain.

Yiddish goes to eat at fundraiser

So I went to Forks & Corks, a fundraiser for Harvesters, which is Kansas City's only food bank. My friend J-Red helps organize this fundraiser. The event it so much fun. All the best restaurants in Kansas City -- and we know how to cook -- and thanks Forks & Cork -- we can eat and drink too. So much fun. There's so much food and wine. All manageable size. And yes, I am typing with my non-drunk eye open. Blogging while tipsy. Watch out now.

Scene One

Man 1: Hey, how did you get all that wine in your glass?

Me: [giggle]

Crazy M: She asked the wine pourer, "if I down this wine, right here, will you let me try another one?" Everybody else was being chintzy.

Me: [giggle] I didn't say "down." I asked her "if I finish tasting the wine I picked, will she let me try the most popular wine?"

Crazy M: She gave you a full glass of the other one too.

Me: I don't know.

Man 1: I gotta learn from you. We're hanging out with you.

Me: I just asked.



Scene Two

Me: Chintzy? Is that Yiddish. Do you speak Yiddish? "Chintzy" means stingy. Is that Yiddish?

Crazy M: I don't know. Is that Yiddish?

Me: I speak Yiddish. Well, some. Do you know the phrase "oye vey?" and "tchotchky?" I know a thing or two about tchotchky.

Crazy M: Really? I didn't know what tchotchky was until I moved to Kansas.

Me: Kansas? Okay, we do speak Yiddish in Kansas.

Crazy M: Who speaks Yiddish? Do Jews speak Yiddish?

Me: Yes. Yiddish means Jew. It's not a derogatory term. And Yiddish is a language.

Crazy M: Where...?

Me: It's a language that is spoken in Eastern and Central Europe, primarily. It's a combination of like German, and maybe some Polish and, of course, Hebrew.

Crazy M: I didn't know that.

Me: Yeah. Google...

Ben Stiller Look and Height Alike: Excuse me, I'm Jewish. I was raised in Kansas and I'm Jewish. You two speak more Yiddish then I do.

Me: It's because I speak Yiddish. I grew up with hearing Yiddish.

Ben Stiller Look and Height Alike: Where did you grow up?

Me: Well, I grew up in L.A. (I try to channel all I know about the Fairfax District.)

Crazy M: Are you a black Jew like Sammy Davis Jr.?

Ben Stiller Look and Height Alike: I have a friend, a black guy, who well he converted, and he knows more about Judaism than I do.

Me: No. My mother was Jewish, so I'm Jewish. Well, my character. I speak Yiddish.

Crazy M: What's that holiday that just passed?

Ben Stiller Look and Height Alike: Passover.

Me: Passover. The first time I got drunk on wine, I was at a Passover dinner.

Ben Stiller Look and Height Alike: Well, you have to get drunk at a Passover dinner.

Me: I got drunk.

Ben Stiller Look and Height Alike: Well, you have to toast so much.

Me: By the end I was toasting from under the table. "Mazel tov." I'm done. I should've eaten a little before dinner. Who knew? "Mazel tov."

Encore

My coach added a few more pages to my scene. My scence begins with me entering the the bar and I say, "Arthur Kellogg, nee Kellerman. Brilliant mind." Remember the playwriter is Jamie Pachino.

I read and re-read that the first few sentences hoping the magic of the word "nee" would come to me. "Nee" is a typo, right? No it's not. It means formerly known as. Go figure.

I don't know much about the English language (I went to public school in California), and maybe this is a useless blog entry, but why am I using fancy pants, ten dollars words when later on in the dialogue I ask, "[c]an I sit down?" Hello? I blame the French.

It's Tuesday and I still haven't memorized my the extra pages. It's a very quick and lively dialogue. We interrupt each other and I finish a lot of Arthur's sentences. He is brilliant for writing that book. And it is too bad that people don't get him.

I created an "as if" for myself. Talking to my "as if," picking his brain, talking about his craft, and addressing his magnificient contribution to the whole world.

In my voice lesson yesterday my voice coach pointed out that when I sing that I focus on each word, pitch, and note individually. She recommended that I think of singing the song thought or sentence by sentence. I place to much emphasis on each individual word and lose sight of the big picture -- the flow of the next words.

If only my coach could hear me in my car.

Constant Air

I had another lesson with my voice / singing coach Elaine Fox. I have to free my voice. In particular, the air that comes out of mouth needs to be constant, relax, but I need to engage a bunch of muscles. I think about it too much.

I'm working on "Memory" and "I Got Rhythm." "Chicago" is one of my favorites musical.

Black Vernacular English at High Noon

A lawyer ("Lawyer") walked into my office at noon to show me a brochure advertising a fiction writing seminar for lawyers. The prices for the seminar were pretty expensive -- $495 per course and another $1,195 for an all day course on the next day. I told Lawyer that the cost was too pricey and "I'm scared of that." 'That' refers to the cost of the seminar, and more specifically the nerve of the organizers to charge so much. Lawyer asked, "what are you scared of?" Huh...oh shit, I thought. I used BVE in broad daylight. I explained that "I'm scared of that" is a black colloquialism that expresses shock or surprise.

Well there you go.

Sassy Girl reminds us, "excuse my grammar, but it's after 10 in the p.m. and therefore okay to use the bve."

Degression No. 1: I'll See Your Yelling And Raise You a Giggling Lawyer

One time I had a case in which opposing counsel yelled and argued a lot. He also miscontrued the facts of the case, for example, the case was about apples and he loved talking about oranges. Hello focus. Maybe I wasn't that shocked that he yelled. Some lawyers sometimes use yelling as a method of intimidating others. Maybe he was yelling because he was passionate -- the miscontruction of facts kind of makes me think it was on account of intimidation. There might have been some gender and age issues too. I am a young female lawyer. No trust me people notice. (Once a client remarked that he wished I had most of his cases because I was prettier than the male lawyers that he worked with. I guess.) Well, opposing counsel yelled and I giggled made him focus. It was along conversations, so I giggled quite a bit. At the end of the conversation, opposing counsel apologized for yelling and said he'd talk to his client about the apples. I told the story to my acting coach and he said he thought my giggles was disarming. Cool.

In the words of Sassy Girl "he don't know me."

Let the Text Pull a Response

A few weeks ago I was talent in a music video for Roanoke. The director of the music video was Jeremy Osbern. Jeremy is also the director of "Air" a featured film that is still in production (I'm in a couple of scenes).

I'll let you know when the video will be ready (I think in mid-May) and "Air".

I have had two kissing scenes in my little acting career. One was in "Amadeus." I was the young wife. My scene partner and I didn't really discuss the director's note that we'd have to kiss. We just sort of tried to remember not to have garlic and onion for lunch. We mostly joked about gum and mints. My scene partner was a novice too. Sense then I learned that actors should discuss touching before hand -- set parameters and comfort. It's kind of weird kissing a stranger and it's weird to kiss a friend too.

Acting is about making sure your responses are honest. To the extent the actor puts up barriers that the character wouldn't have, then well that's not honest. I forget that being an actor is just being. I may have to make a list of things I have to remember to do when I have to do a "romantic scene." I kind of just want to find a book that discusses doing romantic scene. But here it goes -- (1) acknowledge how I feel (usually nervous, look foolish), and (2) talk with actor before the scene (maybe even practice, work the kinks out).

So "Returning to Morality" doesn't have a kissing scene, but there is flirting and I basically ask Arthur to leave with me for a tryst at the end of our scene. Maybe tryst isn't the appropriate term -- think something more passionate and sexual.

In any event, my scene partner is almost actor and my friend. I adore him and I think I was kind of in a "I don't feel like flirting and running off to have a tryst with my friend." That was the actor not my character. My character was star struck -- I think Arthur is amazing, smart, brilliant, talented and yes would love to be with him.

My acting coach added two more pages to our scene.

In workshop we worked on letting the text pull a response; letting the text pull the response freely. Part of it takes just saying the text a few times and tuning into how your body and voice responds. I have to keep the response out of my head, just be free. When I did this when one of the open scene work I realized that when I free myself that I smile or giggle quite a bit when I talk (insert digression #1). The event and relationship I created for the open scene work -- I didn't really have much to smile about. Essentially, A17, my scene partner, betrayed me and I my objective was to get her to change her mind and recant a statement she made. Seeing her sit there being so smugged. Not happy times. The let the text pull a response exercise was helpful.

I have voice lesson tomorrow. I'm working on two songs. Lots of fun. Boy I can hardly wait until I improve.

"The Retun to Morality"

"Arthur Kellogg is an author whose book has been drastically misconstrued by the American public, resulting in a media storm, a violent incident, and his wife having left him. Arthur is drowning his sorrows in a bar, where he meets Beverly much younger and very beautiful."

I am Beverly Sapperstein. I am getting my masters degree in political science and work for my university's newspaper. I speak some Yiddish. My (final) objective is to get Arthur to give me an interview. Well, to trust me and tell me his story.

First things first -- I have to memorize my lines. I have read the script a few times. Tony Barr, author of "Acting for th Camera", offers these tips for memorizing: (1) determine what me and Beverly have in common and how we are different; and (2) learn my (Beverly's) response to what Arthur is saying. Also, I can record (check out www.audacity.com for some free recording stuff) my scene (in a flat tone), burn it on a cd (I should get an ipod), and listen to it in the car or wherever.

So much of acting is responding to what the other people in the scene is doing and saying to you. Learning how your character respond will help you memorize too. So you listen to what your partner says, then respond with the script.

Acting is also creating or determining what your relationship to the other people. Arthur and I are strangers. Sometimes the script writer doesn't tell you all the aspects of character's past and present, so as an actor I have to make specific choices. There are so many choices out there, so it's important to make choices that are exciting for the actor. Sometimes the choices I make depend on what part of my acting ability I want to "stretch." Stretch my craft means that I work on choices that I don't usually make. My acting coach, Andy Garrison, helps me stretch by assigning me characters who are different from my own personality, or who are put in various "emotionally" charged situations.

Also, sometimes I choose to practice/address the flinch when I feel myself "flinch." Flinching is when an actor makes decisions about what the character will or will not do based on the actor as a person, opposed to the character, being uncomfortable about doing or saying something.

Once I was a character who was college educated and worked in a brothel during the depression era. Yikes. The little feminist in me was like what the fuck. The scene was about me convincing this other working girl that even though we were prostitutes we were human and she needed to treat the other prostitutes with respect. Well, part of the moment before was that she slept with this one guy who was the "boyfriend"/love interest of another working girl. Yeah, there was a fight. I was one of the oldest or seasoned veteran. The danger for me was if I failed. Fuck. It's kind of weird sometimes because like the scene is already written, but you have to totally live in the moment, and be committed to your objective at that moment. No projecting yourself at the of the script to get some magic answer or something. Your objective can change varies times in the scene, but usually there is kind of an over arching objective. Me Kito wanted to cry a couple of times because I was distraught that my character was fighting for her humanity.

Back to "The Return to Morality" Check out this Review of Pachino's Creation

Strangers in more specific context -- includes me beautiful, young, master student, who has aspirations to be successful, to be an up and coming journalist, who will do anything to get the story and make a name for herself. Or maybe I'm just a groupy. Arthur is an infamous author, an older man, intelligent, sad, drinking alone in this bar, who has been subjected to violence, ridicule, and, well, his wife isn't even standing by his side. Specifics about the bar -- I could make it a dive or upscale, is the bar crowded, is the bartender working close to where we are sitting, which choices are more exciting for me --

In the scene I'm doing with Arthur I say "buche," which is Yiddish for book. Anyways, I don't speak Yiddish. So, I visited google and found Jew Fact Org. Interesting enough Yiddish is a language that has it's origins from Hebrew and medieval German. It is primarily spoken by Jews in Central and Eastern Europe. "Oy vey" is still my favorite Yiddish word.

Well, I need to memorize. Make some choices, get me some objectives, switch it around and make some different choices, get some other objectives, and above all else have some fun.

Sassy Girl says "it is was it is."

Take that Cat

So, I sat on Cat again today. I put my purse down on the coffee table. I let Cat rub, blah, blah, blah, my leg, blah, blah, my hand, blah, blah, blah. So Cat and I read some of my book for like 30 minutes. There was no bloodshed this time. Just rub rub. Then Cat resigned herself to the back of the sofa. I am still on guard and hope that Cat doesn't turn on me again. Hopefully, Cat won't sense my "reservation" and attack. When I stood up Cat started to meow a kind of sweet meow. She knew I was leaving. Cat tricked me into promising to return tomorrow with her sweet needy meow. Freakin' Cat.

Update:

Cat is still acting like she got some sense. We read some more Book. My mom once told me that she thought animals bossed me around because I'm about their height.

Update:

I've been visiting Cat everyday since the attack. So I skip a day and Cat hissed at me again. Cat and I had a "come to Je*u* meeting." I think Cat thinks I'm weird. Freakin' Cat.

Frivolous Use of Internet Time and Utility

Some guy has a blog entry and some tips in "Entrepreneur's Start-Ups Magazine" that rants about the time we waste on the internet. His comments made me sad and defensive.

Proper tongue wagging commences:

What? Frivolous? Jokes? Say it isn't so. I refuse to believe any of it. I live for jokes (well, jokes and rolling down this hill next to my office). I categorize and cross-reference my friends' utility (er...um...purpose in my life) based on the number, quality, frequency, and laughability of the jokes they send me. (I also keep a chart that details hugs from friends with the same categories.)

And another thing internet research ("googling" or "google") is away of life for me. Just yesterday I started brainstorming the kinds of jobs I might be able to obtain that would allow me to google -- google to my heart is content that is. (One of my favorite google tasks is checking on the three other people with my exact same first and last name. Trust I know a lot about the others -- "Kito" "Robinson". Then I plan an imaginery party for us all to meet. We'll get along so well and have such wonderful and thought provoking conversations that we will create a society. I mean a club. It will be so much fun. Just the four of us. And we all know what they say about the number four.)

Okay I think I have an addiction to mindless frivolous internet searching and jokes. But I'm American. We have to have our frivolous stuff and we have to have it fast. Right? The internet is the wave of the future. Mark my words. Blogging is so much fun.

Amazing Duo or Opps I Did It Again

My friend Goody and I are going to try out for CBS "Amazing Race." We met yesterday to go over our the team portion of our application and get some ideas for the 3 minute video. Goody has been thinking about being on the show for a couple years. I've wanted to be on the show since seeing my first season, number 7. I love adventure. Goody loves adventure. We're going to kick butts. Wish us luck.

We're still working on ideas for our video. The video has to be tight -- show our enthusiasm? Whoa, I just had an idea about the video. I gotta go email Goody.

I will definitely post the video on my blog. I wish I could draw stick figures on my blog. Maybe I can scan the stick figures and upload them.

Oh crap. So I totally asked three people about being my team partner on Amazing Race (scandalous act is herein to after referred to as "Amazing Race Gate"). Goody and I will definitely do a video (she's out of town and I came up with some other ideas for our video in the interim. she'll look at me like I'm crazy if I email her too much. then she'll talk smack, so I have to be strategic about my emails. The emails can't be too long either. Well the emails can be as long as I want, but she'll only respond to like the first three lines of the email. Which I interpret as her only reading the first three lines.)

On Tuesday, April 18th, former FBI Guy, two of three, called me back and I think he kind of wants to do it; and he wants to just be talked into doing a video with me -- applying for Amaziing Race.

I had a point. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. The third person would be great too. They would all make great partners for some of the same reasons and for unique reasons. So, do I tell them that I maybe turning in more than one applications? I better read the rules again. Crap.

Why have I been cursed with so many beautiful, energetic, sassy, adventurous, funny, and athletic friends? It's not my fault, you know.

Technically, it's not my fault. I just get so excited and want to do everything with everyone. Caveat emptor -- I also invite people to parties without asking the host -- sometimes, okay usually. All of my good friends who care about me know that they can't invite me to anything unless they want to see others. Unless the host tells me the list is restricted. I try to ask about restriction. I really do ask if I can invite others. It's not like I can't do things on my own, I mean sometimes I don't even show up to the party. I just want everyone to share in the good times. Okay this Amazing Race Gate is a little different but, crap. Crap.

Solution: science (I can feel it my bones)

Ricki-mister Strikes Back

Ricki is 80% better. The twinkle in Ricki's eyes is back. I went over to visit her and Swiper during my lunch break.

Tape and Cat's Paws

So, I'm cat-sitting for my friend's cat. Cat has not seen a human for three, four days. Friend warned me that Cat hisses like an evil possessed alien infested being. Friend says Cat will probably be friendly on account of being left home alone. Well, Cat was super friendly. She snaked her body around my ankles, meowed, and caressed her tail against my left leg. All good faith gestures, right? I speak motherease to Cat. Give Cat treats and fresh water. And now, I'm Cat's victim.

Cat mauled the back of my leg. My first thought, is to wrap tape around Cat's paws -- all four of them. I quickly regained my composure and realized that I would have to sedate or figure someway to tie Cat up with out being mauled again. Foiled again. I have no idea where "Friend" keeps his good drugs or rope.

I had a book ("Reading Lolita in Tehran") and was going to hang out with Cat; give Cat treats. But I feel so violated. I have opposable thumbs for crying out loud. As blood dribbled down my right calf I feel my cheeks burn. The tape idea might work. I literally and figuratively gave Cat the evil eye. And you know what Cat did? She meows. A sweet sounding needy meow. So I give her both of my evil eyes. Cat is oblivious to my pain, to my method of chastising her and begins rubbing against my legs again. What the hell?

How do you cat people put up with this crap? Any suggestions, short of say using approved American sanctioned torture methods.

Good Drugs

This morning I went to go visit Ricki and Swiper. The cute ferrets that I abandoned. My friend Simone is making me laugh. I have to get out of this funky mood.

Ricki is sick. When I arrived at the shelter, Ricki was lethargic and her eyes were dull. Swiper looked confused, but alert. Ricki is usually very wiggly. Today, she crumpled in my arms like a overused dish towel. My first reaction was to panic. "What are these people doing to Ricki," the voice in my head ("VIMH 1") yelled. We clutched Ricki, but we could feel her bones. VIMH 1 whined, "why can we feel her bones?" I took a deep breath and looked around. Bobbi, the ferret keeper, and Sharon, a dutiful volunteer, were there cleaning and playing with various ferrets. The shaded sun washed over the room and drenched the playpen. The Others wrestled in the playpen. Some of the Others snoozed in rainbow colored hammocks. These are good people.

Long story short, Ricki exhibited signs of an ulcer (details involves consistency and color of poopy), which was probably triggered by the anxiety over leaving her home. Poopy really does tell one about ones health. Did anyone see "Queen Margot," or was it "The Madness of King George"? In any event, there was a guy (the "Royal Poopy Monitor") in charge of monitoring King George's poopy and urine. Can you imagine, such a job? In the movie the Royal Poopy Monitor ran across the court's lawn with turquiose colored urine and brown oblonged shape poopy sloshing around in a glass jar. That's honestly all I remember about the movie. Well, modern doctors believe King George may have had some specific disease on account of the Royal Poopy Monitors observations.

My feelings of abandonment were compounded by the apparent abuse and neglect that I inflicted on Ricki. Between Ricki and Swiper, Ricki was always the one taking risks and being independent. When we'd go to the vet, Swiper would hold on so tight and crawl in my shirt. Ricki, well, she was running around and squirming all over the place. I labeled my ferrets; put them in a proverbial characterization "box." Oh boy, and can I relate to that. Even as a single independent woman there are times when well that description doesn't fit. Lots of times. I am vulnerable. I am the luckiest person because I need people. I am not an island. Ricki needed more hugs. Swiper needed hugs. We worked it all out. My worse fear about Ricki and Swiper situation was that they were being treated poorly and suffering. Bobbi made a soup for Ricki and gave her amoxicilian. By the time I left, Ricki eyes were brighter, she ate half a raisin, and she wiggled.

Sassy Girl says, "you love everybody get use to it."

Condelezza Watermelon Test Question

Can you believe it? When I was a kid I refused to eat watermelon on account of the black people love watermelon stereotype. Stereotypes freakin' suck. Then one day my whole family was eating watermelon, just like the caricatures, and they seemed so happy, just like the caricatures.

Living life to avoid being "stereotypical" sucks. Living life to maintain "stereotypes" sucks. Black is... Singlehood is... Being a woman is... Living in the midwest is... Going back to Cali because she misses the ocean well that's a theme.

Test Question at Issue:

Condoleezza holds a watermelon just over the edge of the roof of the 300-foot Federal Building, and tosses it up with a velocity of 20 feet per second. The height of the watermelon above the ground t seconds later is given by formula h= -16t2 + 20t + 300.

a. How many seconds will it pass her (she's standing at a height of 300 feet) on the way down?

b. When will the watermelon hit ground?

Other Related Blog Sites:

Another Watermelon Related Blog

Blog with school contact information

Attica

Ricki and me. Swiper and Ricki. Swiper and a treat. Wild thangs.

ABA Litigation 101

I wrote an article, Kito's ABA 101 Article, for the ABA Litigation 101 program. I hope to write more articles about legal issues other than creditors' rights and bankruptcy. Hey, if you have an interesting idea for a legal topic let me know.

The first day of the beginning of my...uh...

So, I entered the twenty-first century again. Today is the first day of my blog. Are you happy for me? I'm doing it. I used my "name" (my first inappropriate use of quotation marks...oh and my first parenthetical comment) and kind of wonder if I should create a new anonymous blog too. You know just in case I want to write smack. I'll figure it out. Cie la vie.

About four hours ago I felt sad -- disconnected from the City. Well, part of the problem is that I don't sleep so well these days (another day's discussion). I went out and got some bar-b-que from Fiorella's Jack Stack. And I returned the telephone call of a new friend (knock on wood).

Tomorrow I'm going to go visit these ferrets I know. Swiper and Ricki are both sable ferrets. They used to live with me since last Sunday. Swiper, the male, weighs 2.7 pounds and Ricki, the girly girl, weighs 1.6 pounds. I taught them tricks and gave them lots of hugs and treats. Now they live with Bobbi at the ferret shelter. Bobbi will find a new home for them. Or if no one adopts them, then Swiper and Ricki will live with Bobbi forever. Bobbi thinks I spoiled Ricki and Swiper. Oh and I did. I wrote this 10-font, one page, and 0.5 all around margin detailed sheet about Swiper and Ricki, including snack time, bath water temperature, and the tricks they taught me. But it's not all me, you know. My mom and some of my friends bought Swipee and Ricki holiday presents. Hello? I mean...they had a pretty good life, right? Swiper loves stuffed animals and would carry them in his mouth. He would hide them under my bed, in the closet, my sock drawer. Ricki is just precious.

Swiper, Ricki, and I lived together since July 2004. I keep forgetting that they don't live with me anymore. I miss those little guys a lot.

Other topics I will discuss in the future: acting, being a lawyer, my friends, my family, Ricki, Swiper, books I read, and any thought I have.

You saw it here: "If you see crazy, cross the street." -- Sassy Girl