Wednesday, March 07, 2007

BSG Addict

I will fully and whole heartedly admit that I am addicted to 'Battlestar Galactica.' I have been a fan of the series since it started back in the 1970's. I can vividly remember my sisters and I crowding around our tiny television set, and being totally wrapped up in what was emanating from the screen. I was only six at the time but I remember vowing to myself that one day I would fly around the stars just like Starbuck.
I loved Dirk Benedict with all of my six year old heart; he was the be all and end all of heroes for me. I was devastated when the show went off the air, but never gave up hope that one day someone would be brave enough to bring it back. My prayers have been answered.
'Battlestar Galactica' is back on the air, and, in my opinion, is the best show on television.
Not only does it tackle important issues like war and racism, it also(again, in my opinion) has the finest cast of actors on any show. Period.
It makes me proud that this show is produced in Canada and that Canadian actors hold prominent roles in it. (The absolutely delicious Tahmoh Penikett comes to mind.) Some episodes have made me angry, some have made me sob and all of them have made me realize what amazing talent we have in this country.
I wish BSG a long and glorious run. It deserves every award and accolade it gets.

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Worry Wart

I want to be peaceful and serene and let things roll off my back, but I think I just have to come to terms with the fact that I am a walking bundle of neurosis. I am not now nor have I ever been the type of person who can just switch off my brain and go with the flow; I analyze things to the point where I think I'm going mad, and I constantly worry myself into panic attacks.
For example: last night I sat up in bed and worried about why my nails aren't growing. Yes, you heard right. I worried about my nails not being long enough to get a French manicure for my best friend's wedding which is taking place four months from now. There are so many things I worry about that I walk around with Deer In The Headlights look permanently etched on my face. (I believe this look might also be the reason why I can't seem to get a date.)
I have tried everything to calm down: herbal teas, aromatherapy massages, meditation, but they have all left me broke and stressed out. I worried that I'd bought the wrong type of tea, worried that the aromatherapy was damaging my skin, and the meditation? I sat for an hour worrying that I wasn't achieving the so called state of bliss that everyone talks about fast enough.
I want my serenity now dammit! I want to go to sleep at night and not have to worry that I will toss and turn. I want to be able to shut down and drift off for eight hours and not wake up in a panic at two in the morning and have to pace around my house to calm myself down. Is that so much to ask?
Why do I waste so much time worrying about things and why can't I stop? I want to be one of those people who never lets anything get them down, and who sees challenges as molehills and not mountains, and I have no idea how to change.
Okay, this getting bad. I'm worrying about worrying. I should have a big Help Me sign plastered on my forehead.

Monday, February 19, 2007

The Meet and Greet

After thirty-five years I am finally coming clean: I suck at meeting new people. I am way too shy for my own good, and I now know that I am considered to be cold and remote as well. No wonder I can't get a date!
It has been four months since I ended a bad relationship and I am still licking my wounds. I really wanted this one to work, put all of my energy into making him happy, bailed on friends, made my life about catering to his whims while putting up with his filthy habits, rude behavior and snobbish attitudes. I hated myself when I was with him because I turned into a non-entity; my ideas and beliefs weren't as important as his, adn when I'd finally had enough it got ugly. I was blamed for everything that went wrong. He was perfect, golden, an absolute angel that did nothing wrong, and I am (still) the world's most evil, conniving bitch who ruined his life. So I'm a little gunshy. Go figure.
I have always been shy, introverted and standoff-ish; it is my defence mechanism I guess. If I don't get close to people then they can't hurt me, but now I'm finding that the loneliness that this is creating is pretty unbearable. Most nights I sit at home and watch CSI with only my cats for company;my phone doesn't ring or when it does it's my mother checking to see if I'm still alive. I am literally turning into what I've laughed at all my life: a crazy cat lady.
So now I'm being told by family and friends that I need to get myself back in the game. I hate the game. I have always hated dating because I am no good at small talk; I hate when people ask me questions about myself, and I hate being put in a situation where I have to be outgoing and talkative. I have these voices in my head that tell me that I should just give up now before I even start. Maybe I should just realize that dating and all that relationship crap just ain't for me at this point and time in my life. Maybe I need to be alone for the time being and keep healing my wounds by surrounding myself with family and friends and cats and things that I love. I shouldn't have to get back into the game if I'm not ready, and I shouldn't let people push me into things that I know I'm not ready for.
Screw it. I'll play this game when I'm good and ready and not a minute sooner.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Birth Announcement

Poor Karla. How sad for her that she can't share the joy of becoming a mother with everyone around her. How sad that the nurses in that hospital in Montreal treated her so badly and refused to treat her when she was giving birth, and how tragic that she will have to wait like the rest of us to get her son a passport so that she can take him out of the country. What did she do to deserve this kind of treatment?
She helped to kill two innocent fifteen year old girls, and assisted in the drugging rape and murder of her own sister. She spent twelve years behind bars where she was given a free education and had access to luxuries that some of us on the outside aren't able to afford. She took away three lives, took away daughters from their parents, took away their right to live and breathe and grow and experience. And now she is giving life.
Will someone please tell me how this woman can think that she will be a shining example of motherhood after everything she has done and all the people she has hurt? What right does she have to raise this child, and how in the world will he ever come to terms with the fact that his mother is a cold blooded murderer that should never have been let out of prison?
I cannot believe the cold selfishness of this woman; she has never shown a moment's remorse, never fully acknowledged the role she played in the killing of Kristen French, Leslie Mahaffy and of her own sister, Tammy, and has blamed the entire situation on being a battered woman. To say that this woman is a victim degrades every woman who has survived an abusive situation. They didn't resort to killing innocent young girls, did they?
All I can say is I hope that twenty or thirty years down the line the newspapers in this country aren't showing this child's face with the words 'Like Mother Like Son' written underneath it, but I gotta tell ya the odds aren't good.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

The Overcoat

Last night I had the joy of seeing Canadian Stage's production of Morris Panych's 'The Overcoat', and I can't remember the last time I was so moved by a piece of theater. 'The Overcoat' is based on a Russian short story set to the music of Dmitri Shostakovich of an ordinary man who acquires an extraordinary coat and how his appearance changes those around him. No words are spoken, but the emotion is so palpable that words are not needed. (To read reviews of 'The Overcoat' or for ticket information go to www.canstage.com.)

Seeing this play reminds me how glad I am to be a writer and performer; we have such a wealth of talent in this country, and yet our government continues to cut funding to arts programs across the country. It makes me sad to think that kids are growing up in this country without outlets like art, dance and drama programs to express themselves because some men and women in the government don't consider it a necessity. How sad is that?

I know I'm not alone in thinking how important it is that we support our performers; we are richer for productions like this in our community, and we can't just stand by and let the Canadian government continue to take money away. I will continue to see beautiful art like 'The Overcoat' and I will support my fellow performers in any way that I can because it not only makes me proud to be a performer, it also makes me proud to be a Canadian.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Mama Karla

I haven't blogged in what seems like forever, but today I read an article that has me so angry that I cannot stop ranting about it.
I am and always have been a strong advocate for Human Rights, but I find myself at odds with Karla Holmolka, who apparently is a mommy now. Does anyone else find this as disturbing as I do? Here is a woman who spent twelve years in prison for raping, torturing and murdering three young girls, and who is now free to do as she pleases. This woman has never shown an ounce of remorse for the lives that she took, what right does she have to expect a normal life for herself? She is a cold blooded murderer that played, and continues to play, the victim card, and the media and the judicial system continue to lap it up. Poor Karla. She was probably ignored as a child, let's slap her on the wrist for kidnapping and raping and suffocatingKristen French. Sweet little Karla was beaten by her sadistic husband, let's just sweep Leslie Mahaffey's body parts under the rug, shall we? And adorable, naive Karla really had no idea what was going on when her sister Tammy wasn't breathing anymore...really. She would never harm anyone.
And now she apparently has a child to rear.
As I have stated, I am a human rights activist, but I believe this particular woman has no rights. She should not be out of prison and she should not be allowed to have any privacy whatsoever; people should be aware of her whereabouts 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and she should never know a moment of 'normal' for the rest of her life.
But thanks to the judicial system, this monster is out and is now a mother. I only hope that this apple falls far from the tree.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Download Dementia

I think I need to find a support group. Ever since I got my lovely new computer I have been downloading music non-stop. I am not kidding. I really think I have a problem. I wouldn't be so worried if I was actually downloading good music but I'm afraid I haven't gooten out of control.
Last night I was desperate to find a John Denver song that I hadn't heard in twenty-five years. John Denver, people! What the hell is wrong with me? How did my life nose dive like this? I was actually sitting up at 2 in the morning wading through John Denver's entire library of hits and I was so happy when I finally found it that I felt like I was high.
Okay, the first step is admitting you have a problem.
My name is Anna and I'm a Downloadaholic.