judisunshine

Once More, With Feeling

Posted on October 7, 2012 by judisunshine

Warning! “Buffy” Season 5 and 6 spoilers ahead!

I touch the fire and it freezes me
I look into it and it’s black
Why can’t I feel? My skin should crack and peel
I want the fire back

So, SPOILER, but “Once More, With Feeling” is sooooo going on my second part of favorite “Buffy” eps. I didn’t fully appreciate it back in the day, but it was one of those things where I always knew that was my bad. This time around, I was psyched to watch it again, and sure ‘nuff: LOVE.

Josh discovered a feature on the Season 6 DVDS: “Once More, With Feeling” karaoke! It only has three songs, but that doesn’t mean you can’t sing those same three songs over and over and over. And over…

I touch the fire and it freezes me…

That line haunted me for years, even before I was into the ep itself. And this go-round, I felt an extra-strong kinship with Buffy. While I’ve never died, much less to save the world, I really empathized with her journey back from the grave. She’d been in heaven – warm, blissful, safe. Then her friends ripped her out, and she was back to the fear, back to the cold, back to not knowing how she was going to pay any of her bills.

That’s how I’d been feeling lately, every time I woke up from sleep, even during the times where I had nightmares. I wanted the fire back too, but the fire was long gone, back in my 20s somewhere, maybe even my teens. So I settled for warmth.

And what is redonk, is that I have a great life, in so many ways. My boyfriend is incredible, to say the least. I’m near my immediate family again; the town that I live in is magical.

And I know that I have friends who love me, friends that I’d die for, yet I simply couldn’t find it in me, the energy, the fire, to live for myself. Maybe because the hardest thing in this world…

Every single night
The same arrangement
I go out and fight the fight
Still, I always feel the strange estrangement
Nothing here is real
Nothing here is right

Rewatching “Buffy” in general has zoomed me back to my 20s. A time that feels so long ago, but when I watch “Buffy,” feels like just last week, and I can’t ignore the things that I’ve trained myself to. So Season 6 hit me particularly hard this go-round, especially “Once More, With Feeling.”

But that’s just TV, about a girl who’d been through the ringer (though not yet “Ringer”), and who wasn’t even 21 yet. Though she’d died, she still had a whole ostensible life ahead of her. I felt like so much was behind me, and I had nothing to show for it. A couple of weeks ago, my boyfriend told me that I had my life to show for it, my writing. What he said, how he said it, sparked something.

But it’s really hard to build your own fire with only a spark, even if it’s coming from someone amazing. I’ve been trying though, more, since he said that. I finally started using my Judi Sunshine page on Facebook, the one dedicated to my writing site on WordPress. I opened a Kickstarter to try and raise funds for my blog book, though I haven’t launched it yet. I’ve plodded along, listlessly copying and pasting into a Word document for said book. And to paraphrase Jenny Lewis, I’ve been showing up to work with a smile.

I’ve been trying.

What can’t we do if we get in it?
We’ll work it through within a minute
We have to try
We’ll pay the price
It’s do or die
Hey, I’ve died twice
What can’t we face if we’re together?
What can’t we face?
What’s in this place that we can’t weather?
If we’re together
There’s nothing we can’t face

Josh and I sang that, together, over and over, with the karaoke feature. One day back in the ‘80s, my mother was singing at work, and her coworker said, “You must be happy, because you’re singing!” My mother replied that she didn’t sing because she was happy; she was happy because she was singing. I’m the same way. Singing these songs, written by the amazing Joss Whedon, was making me happy. Josh and I would finish singing the three songs on the DVD, look at each other, go, “You want to sing again?” And we did, over and over, into the wee hours of the night. Singing along with my best friend, and the characters who a decade ago sometimes felt like my friends, was healing me. I could feel it.

So I accepted the perma-earworm of Anya’s bunny belting, because though it could make me feel like I was going crazy from time to time, the energy of all of it was helping to build back a fire within me. It was scary, though, because I didn’t trust my own mental stability, that after so much time in the proverbial Stephen King tunnel, a light at the end could be more than just a mirage.

But if Buffy could do it, I could do it. And if Willow could come back from almost destroying the world, I could muster up some self confidence. What I love about “Buffy” among other things, is that everyone on the show goes through some kind of hell, literally and/or figuratively. But they keep fighting. And watching the show reminded me of how much I missed that fighting. I wanted the fire back.

Maybe it is sometimes just that desire that keeps the spark alive, helps to build it up. I never thought that the fire tiebreaker challenge in “Survivor” was simply about the ability to make one, but how much a person wants to stay in the game.

And the sense memory started coming back to me, a little. How the more I sing, and the harder I fight, the happier I am, and how that positivity can snowball, if I let it. That last part being the key. And the fear of dropping that snowball tends to be what gets me every time.

But it’s do or die, right? So the other night, I posted a status on Facebook, saying I was only six “Likes” away from 100, on my Judi Sunshine page, and to tell your friends!

What I did not anticipate was that one friend would tell 70 billion of his friends. Hurl has been my friend for four years now, and though we’ve never met, he’s one of my best. A truly good person, and one of THE best writers I know. Though I’m trying to gain confidence and pluck, I may never understand exactly why he cares about me so much, but he does. And the other night, he saw my desire for six “Likes,” and raised me nearly 800, at last count. My Facebook writing page shot from 94 to 871 “Likes” in 36 hours. My busiest day on WordPress went from 83 hits in July to 213 hits yesterday, and by the looks of things, today will break yesterday’s record.

And despite having typed for pages, I still have no words, truly, about what that means to me. As a writer, you can’t pay for that kind of publicity, especially if you’re broke. But even if I won the lottery and could immediately self publish and buy one of those often-creepy I-25 banner ads, there’s no guarantee anyone would care. And even if they did, it’s not the same as getting 800 Likes from people who are doing it from places of such love and loyalty to someone that I also love and…loyal towards.

It’s especially humbling and overwhelming to me because the reason I got into blogging to begin with was because of Sars from Tomato Nation. She is the one that taught me that you could create a compelling body of work based on personal essays and love for television. More to the point, she is the one who linked to Jersey Girl, a blogger on Diary-X, that thanks to Sars, gained a huge influx of readers, simply because Sars linked to her. Seeing Sars champion a much lesser-known writer than herself, and falling in love with Jersey Girl’s writing, gave me a confidence boost that maybe someone out there could find hope in my ramblings and “Buffy” obsession.

I’m surrounded every day, by incredible artists. Hurl is a great writer. My boyfriend is, as well, and so are many of my friends My brother started writing way before me, and his site is so awesome. My other brother is in a great metal band that is formed from people around the world. Natty is an amazing photojournalist. Devon has started an Etsy site to sell the gorgeous wine glasses she’s been painting for years. Rj is running a comics and collectibles store that seeks to bring artists together.

There’s nothing we can’t face

My town is like a real-life musical – you walk down the street, and greet one another by name. I’m surrounded every day by people who are just trying to make a go of it in this world, and this year, I’ve been touched by what it means, to live in a community like this.

And I am also living in an Internet community, that has reminded me all over again, how not alone we are. In the past few days, I’ve been reminded that sometimes our friends rip us out of the grave, and we need to lose the butthurt, and walk through that fire.

Thank you, Josh. Thank you, Hurl. Thank you to everyone who’s shown such an outpouring of support these past couple of days. Thank you to everyone who’s loved me and believed in me, even when I didn’t.

But never forget to beware those bunnies.

Posted in Buffy, Entertainment, Family, Friends, Miscellaneous, Music, TV, Women, Work | Tagged Alyson Hannigan, Anya, Buffy, building a fire, bunnies, CK Comics and Collectibles, Coke-babies, Devon Etsy, DVDs, Emma Caulfield, Facebook, hope, Hurl, Internet community, Jenny Lewis, Joss Whedon, Judi Sunshine, karaoke, kinship, musicals, Natty RAW contest, Nightmares, Once More With Feeling, Ringer, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Sars Tomato nation, Stephen King, Survivor, Willow, Wordpress | 9 Comments

The Stink Over Ink

Posted on October 4, 2012 by judisunshine

Don’t remember how or why I stumbled upon it, but on Facebook, there is an awesome page called Tattoo Acceptance In the Workplace. It’s dedicated to, well, what it says in the name, and it posts a lot of pictures of people, what they look like covered in daily work garb, and what they look like less covered in clothes, and more covered in tattoos. My favorite one is of a soldier, first in uniform, then out of it. I’m having trouble locating the pic, but from memory, the caption says something along the lines of, “The person you gave a dirty look to today (the tattooey one) is the person you thanked yesterday (the in-uniform one).

Recently, a friend of mine asked the owner of a restaurant if he was hiring. Said friend is not only one of the kindest, best-hearted people that I’ve ever met, but he is also one of THE hardest workers I’ve ever known, and I’ve been in the work force since ’92, not to mention all my babysitting jobs since ’87. Any establishment would be incredibly lucky to have him on its staff.

The owner answered that they were not hiring, but even if they were, he would never hire my friend, because of how he looks. I.e., tattooed.

My friend is a chef; he works in the kitchen, back of the house. I’m a lifer waitress; I work front of the house, and though I don’t agree with them, can understand the arguments for servers hiding their tattoos, especially in a fancier restaurant.

But this was not that. This was the owner of a casual establishment having a problem with an employee that customers never even see, having tattoos.

And I’m not here to rant about that. I’m here to question the concept overall, about why people still in 2012 think that tattoos are a problem.

I have one tattoo, which is considered rather cliché – the Chinese symbol for friend on the back of my right shoulder. But it’s not a cliché to me, because I got it spontaneously with my BFF Shannon back in ’98. We just like, decided to go get tattooed. And my tattoo means everything to me, because 2,000 miles away, another woman that I love has the same one, in the same place.

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Said woman went on to cover a lot of her body with more tattoos, and both they and she look beautiful. I’d always thought that heavily tattooed people looked awesome, but I don’t have more because at first, I just didn’t think I had the chops to pull that off. After I got my one tattoo, I felt and understood the addiction to it that people get. The pain of the tattoo needle was a pain that I liked, a lot. And afterwards, you have art on your body!

But in the late ‘90s, I was pursuing acting as a career. And perhaps this is ironic, given my opening that heralds Tattoo Acceptance In the Workplace, since theater was my workplace, but I feel like in theater, it’s just logical, that the more you can chameleonize yourself, the better it works. Angelina Jolie is covered and successful, but Angelina Jolie also has bigger budgets to hide them, if she needs to go be in “Beowulf.” From my own end, I was seeking “All-American Girl Next Door” roles, and having visible tattoos wouldn’t mesh with that. Especially given my uber-pale skin, that apparently Dermablend doesn’t work on, if you’re looking to hide a black tattoo on white skin whilst playing Bianca in Taming of the Shrew. My hair was up, and my wedding dress was strapless, and this method actress was upset at having a decidedly un-Shakespearean tattoo glaring at the audience.

Then I stopped pursuing acting as a career, but I couldn’t get tattoos because I remained perpetually broke for a good long while. WHO KNEW that quitting acting and pursuing your college-degreed career path led to poverty?

Nowadays, I’m still rather broke and working my butt off to pay rent, but Colorado is less financially oppressive than New York, so I know I can get another tattoo if I want one. But now it’s been so many years, that I have performance anxiety, and want my tattoo to be The Right One. So we’ll see what happens.

But then, I’ve never been a “tattoo girl,” at the core. However, I am still miffed on behalf of those who are, that they still get looked down upon. I just think that the arguments against tattoos are so circular at best, and illogical at worst.

Your tats may look great now, but what about when they sag when you’re 80?

One Willy Wonka meme answers that better than anything I could say:

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How are you going to explain them to your grandchildren?

Well, even though I just have the one, when I got it, I thought that I’d explain to my grandchildren that back when I was 22, despite myriad romantic angstiness with dudes, I had a girlfriend that I loved more than anyone, and branded her into my back. And for others, it’s like, when we’re old enough to have grandchildren, society will have evolved enough where tattoos aren’t some kind of shocking thing.

How do you expect anyone to take you seriously when you’re covered in ink?

Well, I think the problem lies more in the sentiment, rather than in the tattoos. Aka, stop being stodgy, non-tattooed people. It is 2012. As with most societies, our crashing economy has led to a renaissance of art. Why wouldn’t people want that art to be on their bodies?

And having grown up in a church and a pretty strict Christian school, I can’t ignore the argument that many believe it is wrong, because it is permanently altering the body that God gave us. But even back in the day when I never thought I’d ever get a tattoo, I thought that the Bible argument was morality cherry picking, because I think I knew maybe three girls in high school who didn’t have pierced ears. And only one of them covered her hair in church. And frankly, the God that I knew then and still hope to know now wouldn’t get butthurt over someone’s wanting to become art incarnate.

I don’t have some neat, sweeping wrap-up and thesis statement. I just wanted to say this.

Posted in Body Image, Friends, Miscellaneous, Restaurants, Women, Work | Tagged Acting, Angelina Jolie, babysitting, Beowulf, BFF, Bianca, Chinese symbol for friend, church, Dermablend, grandchildren, poverty, restaurants, romantic angst, Shakespeare, Shannon, SSCS, Taming of the Shrew, Tattoo Acceptance In the Workplace, tattoos, Willy Wonka memes | 11 Comments

5 Reasons to Watch “Parenthood”

Posted on September 27, 2012 by judisunshine

In my as per usz timely fashion, I want to finish the blog I wrote a year ago! You see the other current show I (was/am) watching, that has my heart the most, is one that I recently caught up on thanks to good old Hulu Plus. And I am so, so grateful that this show got renewed for not only a second season, but a third, and a fourth! It sort of had a “Party of Five” situation, if Po5 had never taken off with the fame. “Parenthood” and its viewers never know if it’s going to get renewed, but it keeps on trucking, held up by its fiercely loyal fans. Despite my lack of cable, I am one of them. So with no further adieu, I now present:

5 Reasons to Watch “Parenthood” (the (newer) TV show)!

1. The Truvy Principle/The Cozy

“Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion,” Truvy says in “Steel Magnolias.” Mine too. Omg, “Parenthood” can be so MOROSE! But the show is very self aware, and seems to relish in messing with the audience’s emotions – making them sob until a surprise LOL! This show is so great at the sad, but it’s also so witty. And I love that while this show has certain actors that are known for being funny, everyone gets to be funny on this show, including the kids.

And no matter how bad my mood, no matter how lonely I feel (my boyfriend and I often have conflicting schedules, and I get sad), I know one thing for fact: If I can muster up the energy to go to Hulu Plus and put on “Parenthood,” I will feel better within 44 minutes, wracking sobs notwithstanding. This show is so COZY. No matter how often people fight and get butthurt, almost every ep ends with the Braverman family doing something awesome, often with white Christmas lights surrounding them!

2. The Cast

I love casts. They make or break entertainment for me. And there is no word for “Parenthood’s” casting job, besides exquisite.

All the kids are great. I thought that Max Burkholder was awesome since that one “O.C.” ep, and he really brings it on this show, as a kid with Aspergers. I think Burkholder’s in Hollywood to stay. Savannah Paige Rae as Sydney reminds me of myself at that age, to an eerie extent, including the vegetarian aspect, and the precociousness that she plays with a relish. Tyree Brown is awesome, just wanting everyone to be happy, and figure out his own life aside from all the grown ups’ drama.

The teens are superb. Sarah Ramos is WAY underrated, IMO. Playing a teenager, while you are still young, with tons of perspective and irony? No easy feat! I always like Hattie scenes; Ramos is one of THE most realistic teenage actors I’ve witnessed. And whoa, according to IMDB, she was born 9 days after my baby brother Eric!

Mae Whitman and Miles Heizer are a dynamic duo, to be sure. I’ve been a Mae fan since “When a Man Loves a Woman,” because I used to be a child actor, and knew this kid had a major future. Miles is subtle, and wonderful, and I wish that every teenage girl had a Drew in her life.

I’ve written odes to the awesomeness that is Craig T. Nelson. Erika Christensen’s Julia is probably my favorite character, if I had to choose. Possibly because she bears an eerie resemblance to my sister-in-law. But this show (fittingly) follows the principle of Perks of Being a Wallflower, in that each character is my favorite, if that character is in the scene. Bonnie Bedelia is glorious; Monica Potter I honestly never *got* until this show, a la Emily VanCamp, and once again I must check myself, after I’ve wrecked myself, because Monica Potter is superb, and makes me cry almost every episode.

Dax Shepard is great, and as good at the serious as he is at the funny. He’s another one of my favorites on the show. Peter Krause is a proven rock star, so gifted, and I really like getting to see him play the David to Dax’s Nate, as far as these things go. Sam Jaeger is wonderfully subtle; I always like actors who are good at acting even when they don’t have lines. When he does speak up, it’s always badass. And while I didn’t know if Jasmine could make my Crosby happy, she won me over and then some, and Joy Bryant’s acting has always been spot-on. She had me sobbing my eyes out at the end of “Remember Me, I’m the One Who Loves You.”

Plus! Great guest actors. I was aways an Aidan girl, and am thrilled to see John Corbett again; he’s fantastic, as is Jason Ritter! Not to mention that Ms. Christine Hill shows up to play a stringed instrument and canoodle with Crosby! And I miss Minka Kelly as Gabby.

3. Lauren Graham

It’s hard for me to tell, which show’s series finale broke my heart more, “Buffy” or “Gilmore Girls.” “Buffy” is (obvi) my obsession in a way that other shows can’t touch. But the thing about GG, is that not only does it give “Buffy” a run for my favorite-show money, it lasted for years after I had to say goodbye to the favorite shows of my quasi-youth. GG trucked on for half a decade after “Buffy” and “Felicity” and “Party of Five” all departed. So it hit extra hard to lose my beloved “Gilmore Girls.”

To see Lauren Graham not only in another cozy show, but in a role that she brings her unfailingly multi-dimensional acting to, is a dream come true, for me. Not to mention that I really relate to Sarah, as when the show started, she was in her late ‘30s and having to move back in with her parents, due to various life fail. But she always keeps her heart soft, and she’s a writer. Okay, maybe she’s my favorite character – I can never tell, on this show! But I am admittedly prejudiced, as Lauren Graham is one of my favorite women in Hollywood, ever, if not my very favorite. The woman is spectacular, and I love that she’s friends IRL with Mae Whitman.

4. The Music

I need to make one thing clear: I am not cool. I mean, I’m okay and cool in ways, but I’m not one of those kids who grew up knowing not to be worried about society; we’ve got this, ‘cause of our awesome record/tape/CD/MP3 collection. I beg, borrow, and steal my music from people I trust, and stick with what I like always, but open my mind to those wiser than me. “Buffy” and the Rolstons get big credit for exposing me not only to music, but the culture of music lovers. Though to be fair, I do have a 1989 Beatlefest under my belt!

Recently, I posted a video on my Facebook of one of the songs used on “Parenthood”: Donovan’s “Catch the Wind.” Someone from aforementioned family of music lovers commented about it, and it was just like: You go, “Parenthood.” Way to choose the awesomest stuff. Because when they used “Catch the Wind,” omg. I hadn’t cried in hours, but that song and accompanying montage broke my heart into a billion pieces. And I didn’t know “Catch the Wind,” before that, despite my mom’s Donovan’s Christian album where he put away his idols.

Plus, from “Remember Me, I Used to Love You,” and speaking of “Six Feet Under,” Deathcab’s “Transatlanticism” played in one of Julia’s most heartbreaking moments in the show.

The music that we love is like, the score of our lives. And few shows do it, for me personally, as well as “Parenthood.” The people in charge of it take music as a life form itself, handle it ever so delicately, then place it back into the episodes. Though it spans many decades, it all sounds current, timeless…meaningful, to the character on the television, to us in the audience. It is sublime. Though to my knowledge, this show has never used Sublime.

Oh, and also? GREAT theme song and opening credits. A dying art that I always appreciate seeing.

5. The Family Factor

I’ve grown up with people all around me talking about how television’s ceased to be “family friendly.” I continue to grow up, decades later, with people who say that not only is television not family friendly, but that “There’s nothing good on TV anymore.” We will DISCUSS the latter concept on a different day, but for now, focus on the former.

This show doesn’t have Very Special Episodes where we realize that drugs are bad, sex is wrong, and the world is black and white. Those are so many “family-friendly” shows and movies that I’ve seen over the years, and while they can be awesome in an ICMN way, even at the height of my Christian fundamentalism, I realized that they were a bunch of (albeit entertaining) horse hooey.

But anyway, in “Parenthood,” we get a lot of the gray. Drugs = hilarious in the hands of Peter Krause, holding a pot lollipop. Drugs = terrifying, in the hands of John Corbett’s Seth, because he’s an addict who lost his family because of it. Drugs = come on, focus on school, but I won’t blow a gasket if you smoke weed sometimes if you don’t ruin your life, in the hands of the show’s teenagers.

Gray. And the gray is glorious. Because when you can see gray, you can see that your own crap sometimes stinks (Edited! For Families!). And on “Parenthood,” every. Single. Character has that moment of humility. Some characters have more moments than others, but every character has at least one or two or ten. And if anyone can show me a family more family-esque than the Bravermans? I’m listening.

If you cross paths with my pop cultural tastes and haven’t watched “Parenthood?” Watch it. Go, now, go!

Posted in AcTING!, Celebrities, Childhood, Entertainment, Family, Friends, Lists, Miscellaneous, Movies, Music, Romance, School, TV | Tagged Adam, Aidan SatC, Amber, Aspergers Syndrome, Beatlefest, Bonnie Bedelia, Buffy, casting, Christine Hill Dexter, Courtney Ford, cozy, Craig T. Nelson, Crosby, David Fisher, Dax Shepard, Donovan Catch the Wind, Drew, drugs, Emily VanCap, Erika Christensen, family friendly, Felicity, funny, Gabby, Gilmore Girls, gray black and white, Hattie, Hulu Plus, Intentionally Cheesy Movie Night, Jabbar, Jasmine, Jason Ritter, Joel, John Corbett, Joy Bryant, Juila, Kristina, Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion, Lauren Graham, Mae Whitman, Max Burkholder, Miles Heizer, Minka Kelly, Monica Potter, music in TV shows, nate fisher, Party of Five, Perks of Being a Wallflower, peter krause, pot lollipop, Remember Me I'm the One Who Loves You, Revenge, Sam Jaeger, Sarah Ramos, Savannah Paige Rae, Sex and the City, surprise LOL, Sydney, The O.C., theme song and opening credits, Truvy Steel Magnolias, TV show Parenthood, Tyree Brown, very special episodes, When a Man Loves a Woman, Zeke | Leave a comment

Come, Come, Grace and Daddy Warbucks! Find Us In the Laundry Truck!

Posted on September 26, 2012 by judisunshine

As I’ve reposted my Myspace blogs here on WordPress, I skipped over this one countless times. I never thought I’d have a reason to repost it. But thanks to my Myspace friends on Facebook, especially Donovan, I now know of this. And so here. We. Go!

There is a building within walking distance from my home. It’s had a sign on it for many years now, that it’s for sale (lease? Either way.). It’s run down, covered with weeds and assorted greenery, and overall, has a true feel of an abandoned building, or a running business you might see in Hewlett’s Landing, Lake George. Same diff.

And apparently, this building might be filled with rats. Apparently, that is what transformed the place to begin with, from a semi-classy town joint to a dilapidated rat motel that makes people shake their heads, as they go over that one bridge that separates Freeport from Baldwin.

It’s right at the foot of the bridge right near T&L beer store, home of myriad microbeers and fancy sodas. The bridge right near the storage place that hosts my most sentimental of possessions. The bridge that’s right near the little deli that makes the best breakfast this side of Manhattan.

It used to be Bobby Rubino’s. “A place for ribs.” It was a casual fancy restaurant, or a fancy casual restaurant, depending on your take. The place I went to meet my high school boyfriend’s parents for the first time back in 1992, when they wanted a place they were proud of and liked but would still be cool for a young girl. It was the place that my baby brother really loved a year or so later once he got teeth, and that my parents enjoyed as well. They went there a lot, back when I was in my late teens and exercising my right to avoid quality dinners in lieu of staying home to eat Domino’s and watch “90210” and “Melrose Place.”

Recently, I was with friends, driving back to Baldwin Harbor. As we passed old Bobby Rubino’s, they reminisced about and lamented the place that used to be. The valet-parking rib joint that made our town proud, even though it was technically a town away. Where younger and older could go to a restaurant that both would enjoy equally. A place where we would still be going, if it were still open for business, and not just….there.

Because it’s still there, technically. The building with fancy windows that now are covered with years of dirt and grime, where the weeds grow, and the sign encouraging people to buy this building gets more potentially depressing with every passing year.

But even though it’s been so many years, I still can’t help but think that any day now, a “Coming Soon!” sign will appear on the parking lot/lawn of old Bobby Rubino’s. My money would be on Outback, which seems to pop up in these situations with its Seinfeldian red lights. Plus, ribs. Natural transition.

I still hope. That the restaurant will return, in some form that does Bobby Rubino’s and by extension, our town, justice. Because that little building meant a lot to a lot of the people I love the most.

So while it makes me sad, and makes people sigh, when we cross back over into the town we’ve shared for over two decades, I’m happy to see old Bobby Rubino’s, in all of its faded, weed- and rat-infested non-glory. Even though I know that inside, the reality wouldn’t match the memories, it’s still there, representing.

Alive, a little bit.

That’s how I feel about Myspace. It is my Internet Bobby Rubino’s. Because as long as Myspace is still here, existing, there is a chance. It will maybe never get its OG glory back, and even if it does, the people nostalgic enough to return will remember the rats, and the for-sale sign. The years-long absence. The ostensible betrayal.

But I feel like while there may no longer be a Bobby Rubino’s over in Freeport, or a recognizable Myspace, the literal and metaphorical town of Baldwin, the community itself, is waiting. I thought it might die. But a restaurant is a restaurant. It sucks when it goes away, but it doesn’t change the fact that the people who used to be in it, that now live around it and miss it, are still there, and still the same. Doing their thing, hoping to one day, once again, have a tangible Place For Friends.

And the second there is a “Coming Soon!” sign amongst the weeds, there will be people counting down the days until that place re-opens. If it’s half as good as old Bobby Rubino’s, half as good as old Myspace…well, in the fitting words of a movie that ushered in those epic early ‘90s — If you build it, he (and she) will come.

Build it back, Myspace. Someone, buy this dilapidated building and make it great again. Your cool buzz may have left the building, but there are many people just waiting to pick up the phone and make a reservation.

Posted in Childhood, Family, Food, Friends, Going Out, Miscellaneous, Restaurants | Tagged 000 miles away, 1992, Baldwin, Baldwin Harbor, Beverly Hills 90210, blogging, Bobby Rubino's, bridges, community, Domino's Pizza, fancy soda, Freeport, having your most beloved possessions in storage 2, Hewlett's Landing, high school dating, Lake George, Manitou Townhouse Lounge, Melrose Place, microbeer, Myspace, OG glory, Outback Steakhouse, rats, Seinfeld, T&L, valet parking | 3 Comments

10 Awesome Memories From Waitressing at Red Lobster

Posted on September 24, 2012 by judisunshine

1. The day the huge metal chandelier crashed onto Table 25.

OMG. Hahahahahah 😀 It was a lunch shift, and there was a round table for large parties on the main dining room floor. One day we heard this astonishing CRASH in the dining room, and it was the chandelier that hung right over said round table. This HUGE iron monstrosity — whomp! The people in the booths next to that table were like, whoa. Thank God no one was sitting there.

2. “Carol of the Bells.”

One Monday night I was singing in the kitchen, as I tended to do while working, much to many’s displeasure, and this time, it was “Carol of the Bells.” People started joining in one by one, until literally every server was singing, and it was elaborate. Harmonies, and mimicked bells, and by the end we were all singing at the top of our lungs, while guests were right next to us in the dining room. My manager came in and it was like, oh no, we’re gonna get yelled at. She dramatically paused, then started clapping and said, “That was great!”

3. Go home, crackers!

Like most restaurants, Red Lobster had an 86 board. Most nights, we were out of like, 27 things. One evening, we were only 86 one thing: crackers. My coworker Ossam came in and said he had an announcement: Steve and Judi had to go home right now. I was like, oh no, what did I do now; was this about My Attitude? And very seriously, he said, “We are 86 crackers, and you two just don’t belong.” (Steve and I were the only Caucasian servers working that day.) Restaurants are awesome because they are litigious nightmares waiting to happen. That is so much more comfortable to me than offices with fake laughter and awkward smiles. Or in the case of my last job, deathly silence, but don’t get me started.

4. The sexual harassment meeting

Oh, Darden. Red Lobster’s headquarters is located in Orlando and they send out the corniest meeting agendas. Our restaurant, despite all the yelling and screaming at each other, was actually very respectful. And the meeting was like an after school special, which was hilarious in the hands of servers being forced to interact at 9 a.m. on a Saturday. At one point, a woman stood up and started talking about how she knew all of us wanted a piece of that, but all of this *body shake* belongs to him (another server). In general, the meeting devolved into total anarchy, and it was glorious.

5. Celebrity guest stars

One time, I was waiting on these unusually humongous dudes. They were very nice, and turned out to be Jets! The football team, not the gang from “West Side Story.” Salt, sans Pepa, came in one time with her family, and another time my friend started crying because Nas was there. I didn’t know who this Nas fellow was, but I was really psyched for my friend’s joy and made a mental note to expand my musical horizons beyond show tunes and Amy Grant.

6. Scammed!

It was the end of one of my first Saturday nights, and it all happened so fast, I don’t even remember how it went down exactly. But somehow a party of 10 walked in and the closer, the last person on the floor at the end of the night, who was a strong server, talked me into taking it. The other closer was horrified, and asked me, why in the world do you (a still-terrible server) have a large party at this hour? (At the end of the night, the restaurant is a lot harder to work in, as everything is being shut down and put away.) And her consensus was that I got scammed. Scammed?! This restaurant business was a whole new Machiavellian world! Apparently, it would have been a lot of work for a small tab, because it was two women and eight children. We didn’t have busboys, either, and that is a lot of cleanup, with kids. But then I felt terrible for this party, because I was a really bad server, and they were unwanted, to boot. And when you’re a little kid, going out to eat with a bunch of other kids is really exciting; at least it was for me! So even though I barely knew what I was doing, I tried to do my best for them, and the other closer and guys in the kitchen felt bad for me, having been preyed upon by A Scammer, so it went okay. At the end of the meal, my manager told me my table wanted to see me, and I’m like oh no, what went wrong? I went out to the dining room, and the kids started chanting my name and had drawn me a picture! They said they all had a great time. Obviously, I cried. Then on top of all that, they left me a $75 tip, which was like, 100 percent of the bill.

7. Garfield

When I first started at Red Lobster, the night service bartender (the one who makes drinks in the kitchen, for servers’ tables, rather than the one who interacts with guests (some do both)) was this stoic dude who was not feeling the servers’ urgency and bore the distinction of being the one person in the kitchen who never looked completely insane at any given time. He got to your drink when he got to your drink. And that could be a hilariously long time. One night, Garfield gave me a look and said, “You forgot to tip the bartender.” I was all like oh I didn’t know that, and felt terrible. So I gave him 10 dollars. Then I told someone I had no idea, I would have been tipping him all along and felt bad, and they were like, “You don’t have to tip him; he gets paid well per hour.” But the next night, damn if I didn’t get my drinks on point, in a normal amount of time like you’d expect if you knew nothing about Red Lobster. Other servers were like, “You don’t have to, but why not? He works hard and servers are assholes.” That made more sense to me. And I appreciated his entrepreneurial spirit.

8. Mediators need not apply.

One lunch shift, two servers in their ‘30s were fighting. Although I was only 20, I was very wise, and piped in with some “peace, love, and understanding” shenanigans. They like, immediately dropped their problem with each other, and turned to me. One woman said, “Stay out of this!” and the other said, “Shut UP!” It stung a bit, but the awesomeness of the exchange won out for me, even in the moment.

9. The disastrous appetizers

I think that most reading this who have worked at Red Lobster know what I am talking about when I say: Lobster Quesadilla. Lobster Pizza. Lobster Stuffed Mushrooms. Any appetizer starting with “Lobster” was a terrifying prospect for any server, Lobster Fondue being the vague Switzerland in this general equation. Because sometimes, and always if Eulyses was cooking, those appetizers would be gorgeous and delicious and, if paced right by the server, come out in a timely manner in the appropriate way that you would expect to receive your appetizer if you’ve been out to eat before, anywhere, ever.

Those times were rare. And the casualties were great. Only we still tried to give them to our tables, because cooks get really mad when you give the food back and would be like, what the hell, your appetizer, the dinner is coming! Bail out! Bail out! And you’re like, what do you MEAN my dinner, I’m still waiting for blue cheese dressing for the salad, and it was like, “No time! NO TIME!!!” and so you would smile brightly and throw around a lot of chives and sour cream and hope for the best, and the crestfallen looks on guests’ face upon receiving their charred messes could be a real bummer after awhile, and you’d never understand how exactly it happens, scientifically speaking, that sometimes the lobster stuffed mushrooms are glorious puffed clouds of wondrous delight and cheesy goodness, and other times they’re tiny little embarrassed balls charred to a crisp, with oily blackened cheese everywhere.

I always breathed a sigh of relief when people ordered the mozzarella sticks. They came out fast; no one was bitter about having to cook them, and they remained at a consistent 14-count IIRC, none of the Howard Johnson’s-esque messing around, taking away a chicken finger here, or a shrimp there and hoping no one will notice. “Why did I only get five mushrooms instead of six!” Not cool.

10. “What do you mean, you’re out of lobster? Your name is Red Lobster!”

And yet.

***Update: After posting a link to this on Facebook, my friend and former Red Lobster coworker Steve posted the best follow-up comment EVER!!! A couple of these were stories I thought no one would even believe, a couple I forgot, and a couple I didn’t know. So here you go, Internet: the worthwhile Easter egg to my Red Lobster blog 😀

Outstanding. How could I forget about the crashing
chandelier?? I’d like to add the guest who mooned another guest for blowing his
nose too much (before your time I believe), the wedding party where the groom
(in a mink coat) tried to dine and ditch, the parking lot stabbing (where Matt
hid in a garbage can) and Arlene arriving to work in biker shorts…oh yeah and
the guest who screamed out, “Where’s my biscuits?” at the top of her lungs.

Click here for another Red Lobster story!

And another!

Posted in Food, Friends, Going Out, Lists, Restaurants, Women, Work | Tagged 86 boards, Amy Grant, appetizers, bartenders, big tip, blue cheese dressing, Carol of the Bells, Cheddar Bay Biscuits, corny meeting agendas, crestfallen looks, Darden, Garfield, Howard Johnson's, iron chandelier, lobster fondue, lobster pizza, lobster quesadilla, lobster stuffed mushrooms, Machiavellian, Nas, NY Jets, Red Lobster, Salt 'n' Pepa, scammers, servers, service bartending, sexual harassment, show tunes, sour cream and chives, waiting tables, waitressing | 18 Comments

Rewatching “Buffy”: My Top 10 S1-3 Desert Island Eps

Posted on September 23, 2012 by judisunshine

Warning! “Buffy” spoilers ahead, if you haven’t watched the show!

And my apologies for the wildly uneven videos – “Buffy” Youtube is a scary place. I got in and out as fast and as best as I could!

SO. The thing you need to understand about my specific geekery, is that Me : Buffy as Other People : Star Trek. My introduction to Internet passion and hatred was through Buffy.com’s Bronze, its message board. And that is saying a lot.

I. Love. “Buffy.”

And as I rewatch this glorious show in its entirety for the first time start to finish thanks to Josh (and Joss), I’m filled with the desire to make my own Top (Undetermined Number of All Time) Episode List. In the past, I’ve been thwarted by my desire to make this list inclusive. Personally, I wasn’t a humongous fan of post-Professor Walsh “Buffy,” back in the day. But someone whom I respect immensely described my beloved series as “great, especially the later seasons.”

So I’m listening…Joss Whedon is like, the master genius of life itself, and I’m super looking forward to revisiting the later seasons of “Buffy.” Between aforementioned friend’s description and stellar Onion A.V. Club recaps written by a dude who’d never seen the show before, yet had an extremely indepth knowledge of all of our Buffyverse angsty debates, I’m extremely psyched to check my own early-aughts fangirlism at the door, and enjoy the final seasons of Mr. “Avengers” and Shakespeare himself’s dark horse baby.

That said. Season 3 is to this date, my favorite one of all time. It has absolutely everything I love: Badass villains, including a hot-girl-filled-with-ambivalence co-Big-Bad, love and friendship triangles of jealousy, young and angry Giles.

It pretty much broke my heart to leave ANY ep off of this list, but I feel that as a “Buffy” Trekkie, it is very important to compile a list of my favorite “Buffy” eps ever – 10 eps that if I were stranded on a desert island, these would be the episodes I’d personally choose to encapsulate “Buffy” S1-3. I will tackle the later seasons as I keep rewatching!

So with no further adieu, I now present to you:

My Desert Island “Buffy” Episodes (Seasons 1-3)!

(In chronological order)

1. Welcome to the Hellmouth

]

I’ve discussed this episode before. WTTH, as it is known by fans/obsessors, is a fantastic episode. “The Harvest,” its second part, almost made it to the list. But if this were a care package, we have to keep it as filled with variety as possible, so “The Pack” replaced “The Harvest.” But more on that in the next part! For now, I will just say that WTTH is a fantabulous pilot, especially given its low budget. Don’t want to be redundant, I sang this ep’s praises in the other blog, so I will take this time to say that Sarah Michelle Gellar is such a freaking awesome actress. Back in the day, The Watcher’s Chronicles (I think? My books are in storage 😦 (and I can’t find it on Google!) came out, a seriously in-depth study of the first two “Buffy” seasons. My dad got it for me from Bookspan! And I read that book cover to cover multiple times. From that, I found out that SMG was originally set to play Cordelia, which makes sense, due to “All My Children” and my personal fave, “Swan’s Crossing.” But SMG fell in love with the show and Joss Whedon artistically, and rallied to play Buffy. She knew Tae Kwon Do; she could rock her natural brunette self as a blonde…

…and man, can that woman act. I remember reading an interview where SMG says that she is uber-coordinated as long as she has choreography, but left to her own devices, she like, trips over her own feet. I can soooo relate to that. Which makes me appreciate the beauty of SMG’s physical acting that much more. Not to mention her method acting tears that break my heart every time. Sometimes when you rewatch a show or movie when you are older, you realize that an actor or actress you thought was good, really just tapped into your own personal stuff at the time. Not with SMG; she is truly gifted.

I could babble on all day about the nuances of “Buffy” actors, but let’s move on to —

2. The Pack!

Season One is considered by many a “Buffy” fan as the weakest and cheesiest one, but I always loved S1. Rewatching it with Josh has given me an even fresher perspective. S1 is dark, and it’s scary, and it really explores Joss Whedon’s metaphor of life = high school. “The Pack” is awesome. It takes the truly nice guy, Xander, and explores what it would be like if the nice guys were all assholes, deep within. It also puts on the table that Willow luvs Xander luvs Buffy. I appreciate when a show gets that out there, and doesn’t waste my time for billions of eps! S1 has a lot of great stand-alone episodes, but “The Pack” is my favorite.

3. Prophecy Girl

Obvi, “Prophecy Girl.” “Giles, I’m 16 years old. I don’t want to die,” is one of THE classic television utterings of my lifetime. And then she does. Die, that is. And Xander brings her back to life. IMO, “Prophecy Girl” encapsulates everything that “Buffy” is about. And within the show itself, you see that happy endings happen, but no one is truly safe, on this show.

Also, shoutout to Patsy Cline and my grandparents ❤

4. Innocence

I’d always chosen “Innocence” as my favorite all-time ep, and felt very mollified when I found out that Joss himself also called it his fave. Although S3 is my favorite overall, the end of S2 is a freaking force to be reckoned with. Pretty much every ep from “Surprise” on kicks all kinds of ass (no offense to pre-“Surprise,” which is still “Buffy,” and therefore great). But “Innocence” hits me in every conceivable way. MORE GEEK KNOWLEDGE ALERT! Remember when Buffy goes home, then turns around from her front door and goes to Angel’s apartment? That one brief Summers yard moment was supposed to be the set of the next scene. After he’s turned, but before she knows that. Apparently, Sarah Michelle, David, and Joss had this synergistic actor/creator relationship, and the scene where Buffy asks, “Was it me? Was I…not good?” (SOB!) was very important, but it just wasn’t working, in Buffy’s front yard, no matter how many takes they did. So they took the scene to Angel’s place – him shirtless, them in the place where they made love. It was all much more intimate, and the scene worked, just like that.

So there is that scene, and there is “That was then. This is now,” and there is Willow’s heart breaking over Xander and Cordelia, and there is Giles breaking MY heart in the car, and most importantly?

There are cupcakes. One of which has a candle that Buffy just wants to let burn, as her 17th birthday fades along with – well, her innocence.

5. Passion

Giles is not only possibly my favorite character on this show, but Anthony Stewart Head is definitely one of my favorite actors of all time. And ASH. ROCKS. This episode. I also know that “La Boheme” is opera because of “Passion.” Sometimes on shows, it is hard to have a standalone ep that still keeps the story going. While this ep was All About Angelus, as all of post-“Surprise” eps are (sans “Go Fish,” but if IIRC, that was actually supposed to come earlier in the season, originally), this ep was even more All About Giles. Anthony Stewart Head is so, SO awesome, even more than usual in “Passion.” When he comes at Angelus with that flaming torch – I never wanted Angel to die, but if Giles had killed him in that moment, I would have been okay with it. And the breakdown Buffy/punch/sob scene outside the factory is one of my favorites of all time.

6. Becoming, Part Two

What is there to say about this magnificent, epic episode, that hasn’t been said before? For many “Buffy” fans, this ep tops the list, and I have NO problem with that. Personally, I am a huge fan of the first half. I dig Bianca Lawson, also Spike and Dru, and also the slo-mo-Buffy-getting-serious-in-teal-Christophe Beck montage.

But the latter half of the awesome first is one of the most epic 44 minutes I’ve ever seen on television. The broad swordfighting is amazing. I’m more of a cupcakes-and-pajamas TV viewer (hence “Innocence” as my number 1!) than a violence girl, but I gotta say, I love the violence on “Buffy.” Well, except for Joss’s freaking EYE obsession (EEK!)! The choreography was great. Sophia Crawford and Jeff Pruitt rocked life itself. And the actors themselves were no slouches, especially David Boreanaz and SMG.

I’m probably procrastinating, so as not to cry at my keyboard. Because all action adventure aside, “Becoming, Part Two” packs an emotional roundhouse kick like I’ve never experienced in possibly my lifetime. Omg.

7. Bad Girls

This isn’t the episode that makes me cry the most. The fighting’s awesome as to be expected, but it’s not about that. “Bad Girls” makes my list because it is about Buffy and Faith kicking all kinds of ass, dancing to Curve’s “Chinese Burn” at the Bronze, and saying screw you to chemistry class, we’ve got hearts on the window and slaying to do.

And then, as it would happen because it was the late ‘90s on the WB, Comeuppance Arrives, and shit hits the fan. Faith, the drawer of the fire (“Revelations!”), murders a man, and she doesn’t care.

OR DOES SHE?

For all of “Buffy’s” Lesson of the Week episodes (not in a bad way), “Bad Girls” is the ultimate Lifetime Movie, for my money. It’s got everything glorious. And on a more serious note, it is the catalyst to the second half of my favorite “Buffy” season, so it is on my list!

Plus: the introduction of the awesome Alexis Denisoff as Wesley!

8. The Wish

Guys, first I had “Band Candy.” Then I traded it out because, obvi, “Doppelgangland.”

But the more I think about it, and now that I’ve rewatched S1-3, and as much as I totally adore “Doppelgangland” (and “Band Candy!”), if we’re going with desert island picks, I have to go with “The Wish.”

Because when I watch “The Wish,” I get super excited to watch “Doppelgangland,” but while the latter is super fun and Alyson Hannigan as Vamp (and regular!) Willow rocks the hell out of it, she also is great in the former, and “The Wish” has the advantage of being sooooo haunting, sealed by Christophe’s Beck’s incredible “Slayer’s Elegy.” As I (SPOILER ALERT) have started watching Season 5, I’m appreciating it much more, in great part due to if not foreshadowing, then imagery, in “The Wish.”

9. Choices

Another ep that I’ve written about before, and that is the end scene where Willow tells Buffy that she’s staying in Sunnydale next year, for college. In addition to that particular awesomeness, this ep has my two personal faves, Willow and Faith, going toe to toe! This was when the show was still more metaphorical, and the former teenager in me gives this ep a bigs thumbs up, in the way that the fight-y Big Bad Willow/Faith drama was gorgeously underscored by the human drama that is a teenage girl feeling insecure and left out, now that her BFF has found a cooler new friend.

Oh and not to mention, gross spiders, getting both eaten and stabbed against walls! By the only knife I’ve ever wanted to own – Faith’s Jackal knife! And Willow finally getting her emotional energy controlled so she could float a pencil – and kill a vampire with said floating pencil!

10. Graduation Day, Part One

Obviously, Part Two is awesome. But much like “Bad Girls,” Part One has the always-competitive advantage of my girl Faith. GD Part One like, encapsulates ambivalence. As Sunnydale students, including the Scooby Gang, waver between high school nostalgia and excitement over the future, Buffy wrestles between “watching (her) lover (sorry, Liz Lemon!) die,” and murdering not only a human, but the Other Slayer Herself. Therebut for the grace of…whom?

Not Buffy, not this time, as she goes to Faith’s Apartment in a scene that is gloriously accompanied by Christophe Beck’s score named thusly.

“Buffy” has had countless incredible battle scenes. But this one is my personal favorite, as Buffy tries to fight to the death, the person she just had over for Christmas not too long ago.

Posted in AcTING!, Apartments & Other Domiciles, Buffy, Celebrities, Entertainment, Friends, Lists, Miscellaneous, Music, Romance, School, Superheroes/Villains, Supernatural :o, TV, Women | Tagged Alexis Denisoff, All My Children, Alyson Hannigan, Angel, Angelus, Anthony Stewart Head, Bad Girls, Band Candy, Becoming Part Two, bianca lawson, Big Bad, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffyverse, Charisma Carpenter, Choices, Christophe Beck, Close Your Eyes, Cordelia Chase, Curve Chinese Burn, David Boreanaz, Doppelgangland, Drusilla, Eliza Dushku, Faith, Faith's Jackal knife, floating pencils, Graduation Day Part One, Innocence, James Marsters, Jeff Pruitt, Joss Whedon, Juliet Landau, La Bohem, Lindsay Crouse, Liz Lemon, Nicholas Brendon, Onion A.V. Club, Passion, Patsy Cline, Professor Walsh, Prophecy Girl, Rupert Giles, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Scooby Gang, Shakespeare, Slayer's Elegy, Sophia Crawford, Spike, Star Trek, Sunnydale High School, Surprise, Tae Kwon Do, That was then. This is now, The Avengers, The Pack, The Watcher's Chronicles, The Wish, Vamp Willow, vampires, Welcome to the Hellmouth, Wesley, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris | 5 Comments

Intentionally Cheesy Movie Night: Beverly Hills 90210: Sex, Lies, and Volleyball

Posted on September 20, 2012 by judisunshine

Hold up! I need to call shenanigans on this cover! This is clearly a Season 4 picture! WTF! But onward.

I realize this is just one episode of television. But it is a strong possibility that “Sex, Lies, and Volleyball” is the best episode of “90210” ever. Shit goes on that I could barely believe was possible. As far as cheesy television goes, this episode really hit the nail on the head when it came to filling almost every moment with something awesomely cringeworthy.

I wasn’t going to take notes; I was just going to watch the show, then write from memory. I got as far as remembering the awesomeness of the credits, like even for this show, and this is what I’m saying about the intensity of this episode’s amazingness. Even the credits are spectacular.

That is as far as I got because then Steve and Brandon are looking for a volleyball partner for Steve and doing something for this beach volleyball tournament. Basically, they are being ballstastic about being around all these “hard-bodied babes,” according to Steve, and that is when I had to start taking notes, because I realized I was in for something really special in this episode.

And I was. Because the next scene is possibly the most wonderful thing ever, in every way. First of all, it’s Nikki! I love Nikki! She overhears David playing his keyboards, and gets all hot for his “sound.” He finishes the song and spins around before he sees Nikki. She says something about how he’s got moves thatI couldn’t write down, because I didn’t dare take my eyes off the magic unfolding before me.

You see, David’s hair…I’m really not sure how to explain it. It’s randomly parted to the side, sort of? And sort of frosted looking? Nikki’s breathing heavily and staring at David like a psychopath, and talking about how she and her boyfriend “have an arrangement,” and she says she thinks keyboardists are way hotter than drummers, which explains a lot regarding the way she is panting over David and his sound, and THEN. She says, “Do you know ‘I Want Your Sex?’” So of course there is misunderstanding over the double entendre, and she means the song, and then says David reminds her of George Michael, which might be the awesomest thing that ever happened on the show.

On to the annoying sublot in France that basically is Donna acting all Ugly American and refusing to speak French and Brenda is wearing the first of many vests with no shirt, and tells Donna that speaking the native language of a country is the best way to learn. Donna says “Yeah, right,” and storms off, and it’s bizarre, and the music gets so intense, and I’m so confused, but then am reminded that Donna has a learning disability. But then she buys a tart in a bakery and the bakery lady is not having Donna’s bad attempts to speak French and calls her an imbecile, which Donna understands, and gives this speech that is supposed to be really patriotic, but is really unfortunate, and then. Then! Donna is celebrating her victory over understanding someone calling her an idiot in French by eating her tart, and this new lady is stalking her and taking her picture, and it is really, really awkward because Donna’s like, sucking her finger and stuff. But it turns out, the woman wants her to be a model.

In one of the biggest cult phenomenon storylines that I’ve ever witnessed, Dylan and Kelly have Sexual Tension, playing volleyball together and Dylan is touching Kelly way too much. This was before Superman even entered the picture, so I feel extra bad for Brenda, who is back in Paris telling Donna in that very still, serious way that showed you she meant business, that Donna better not dare drop out of the program to become a model, and I get angry about society’s pressure to keep us as followers as best as possible.

Steve is liking this chick he met, but of course she meets Brandon and likes him better. So he’s like hey Brandon, could you maybe not go after every girl I like? And I really sympathize with him, because, seriously Brandon. But Brandon says this chick is so “special,” and it’s like, really? This one girl you met a couple of days ago is special enough to hurt Steve’s feelings?

Over in Dylan and Kelly’s inappropriate friendship, he is helping her baby-sit her baby sister, and she of course overhears him being sweet on the monitor, and he gets Erin (the baby) to calm down, and Kelly’s like, awww. But then Dylan starts acting like James Dean and he doesn’t talk about Kerouac, but he does tell Erin she can’t trust anyone but herself, because people let you down. Nice thing to say to a baby, Dylan. And Kelly is like, “He is such a troubled soul,” and furrows her brow.

This is the episode where Brenda starts smoking! And is still judging Donna, who is still being naïve, and it’s pretty boring, but also hilarious, in terms of the level of intensity and Donna’s outfits: First like a (co-ed?) call girl, then like a ballerina daisy. Then Pierre (the fashion dude) hits on her, and she realizes she was wrong to ever think of leaving Beverly Hills, and Brenda dispenses wisdom from her bed. I seriously am hardpressed to think of another television character who had quite so many scenes where she was just like, sitting in bed. It’s actually one way the show was sort of realistic.

Anyway, that’s that, and Steve agrees to not stand in the way of Brandon’s minute-long dream of this chick, and Brandon can’t be cool, and has to kiss her right in front of Steve, while the wound’s still fresh.

And Dylan and Kelly…pffffft. Well, I should tell you she is wearing one of the most confusing outfits I’ve ever seen. It’s a white halter top, with white shorts, and high-heeled white sandals. She looks really nice, but it zooms me back to the early nineties to an unsettling degree. And then she stands in the doorway of Dylan’s place, and the light is hitting him just so, and he is wearing a white wifebeater and black pants to go with her white outfit. Will the bride walk down the aisle? Imagery on “90210” is awesome. And yes, she does! She shuts the doors behind her, and 17 years ago, a lot of people let out a collective “Noooo!” because the show ends right there.

Oh yeah, I totally forgot about Nikki and David! I think I was just that blown away by their awesome first scene. Basically, Kelly catches them making out and storms away in disgust, and he chases her and she yells at him, as she should, except that it’s all ironic because she’s right, it’s shitty to cheat on someone just because she’s in France, but that is just what she helps Dylan do. But David ends it with Nikki, who’s all distraught at the prospect of a future without David’s magnetism and sound, but luckily he gives her a parting gift: his demo tape.

On top of all this were many volleyball montages and some of the most hilarious background music ever. Two very enthusiastic thumbs up to this fine episode!

OMG, I forgot about another bit of awesomeness: Kelly’s leopard-print dress!

More “90210” blogs!
The “90210” Survival Guide
High School Graduation Recap
Watching a “90210” In My 30s

Posted in AcTING!, Celebrities, Entertainment, Intentionally Cheesy Movie Night, Miscellaneous, Romance, School, Women | Tagged ballerina daisy, Beverly Hills 90210, Brandon Walsh, Brenda and Donna in France, Brenda Walsh, David Silver, Donna Martin, George Michael, imagery, Kelly Taylor, leopard print dress, Nikki, Sex LIes and Volleyball episode, Steve Sanders, Ugly American | Leave a comment

September 11th

Posted on September 12, 2012 by judisunshine

Sorry to be unoriginal, but it really was a day like any other, when it started. As per tradition, I missed the train I should have gotten, in order to get to work at the time that, despite all evidence to the contrary, really was not just a *suggestion.*

But it was fine; at 8:48, I still had 12 minutes to walk to work after arriving in Penn Station, only first I had to go to Amtrak to get a gift for someone that day. It was there that I heard excited tones.

“Hey whoa, a small plane lost its signal and flew into one of the Twin Towers.”

“Actually, a second small plane flew into the other one, and now they’re saying it might not be an accident. But I’m guessing it probably was just a signal mumbo jumbo in that area. People always jump to the worst possible conclusion.”

I gave them my money, went upstairs and outside, and started to walk crosstown to my job that was on Park Avenue. When I arrived at Sixth Avenue, just like any other weekday, I saw people stopped, staring, pointing to the right.

When I looked towards my right, there they were. The Twin Towers, just as they’d ever been, only today, they had little black holes in them at the top, and smoke was coming out from said holes.

How awful for the pilots, I thought, knowing there was no way a small plane would have survived such a crash. My brain didn’t know how to process just how big those little black holes were, when you weren’t across town from them. And it certainly didn’t know how to process the idea that people in the Towers were hurt. Maybe a few, but surely it was under control, and everything would be fine, save for those poor pilots.

I kept walking to work, because that’s what you did at nine in the morning, when you were late. But as minutes passed after the two crashes, the energy in Manhattan was growing increasingly sinister and anxious. Though my brain wasn’t processing the enormity, my gut was screaming at me. To turn around, to get right back on the train and go home.

Yet I kept walking to work, until I couldn’t take it anymore. From my new cell phone, I called my boss who had also been my friend for five years, on his office line. He didn’t answer, so I left a message. “I know I’m already late, and I know I’m a flaky person, but for some reason, I just know I have to go home. This is bad. I don’t know what the bad means, but it is bad, and I need to go home. Honestly, I think you should too. I really hope you’ll understand, and that I won’t get fired.”

I turned around, and walked back to Penn Station. I was on the Babylon line, and there wasn’t another train going back that way for awhile. There were, however, trains leaving in the next ten minutes or so, on the Ronkonkoma and IIRC another line that would get me out of Manhattan, but would drop me off far from my home in Baldwin. My gut yelled at me to get on one of them and call my mom for a ride, but my brain told me that I was overreacting, and that I shouldn’t inconvenience my mother over my paranoia.

So I waited until the next green Babylon train was ready to leave. This was just another day, just another day. Everything would be fine. This was an accident, a misunderstanding…

While I waited on the platform downstairs as the train rolled in just like normal, people around me were talking: The Pentagon had been hit. The train doors opened; I found a seat, and started crying. I was finally, truly, officially, scared. A woman from a seat behind me came up to me and silently offered me tissues, and hugged me. It was all setting in, what we were leaving, what we were escaping.

I shuddered sobs, and waited for the train to bring me out of the tunnel, and back to the sunlight of the rest of the world. To bring me back home.

Staticky conductor speak has never sounded so chilling as it did in the next moment, as we were told to leave the train. All trains were being evacuated, you see. No more trains were leaving Penn Station that day.

As I walked back onto the platform, then upstairs into Penn Station, we were hearing that Penn Station was soon to be evacuated, as well. In the meantime, there were long lines forming at the pay phones, as cell phone signals were few and far between.

I got at the back of the line, and waited my turn. People before me ranged from sobbing to matter-of-fact, and everything in between, as they contacted their loved ones, or their business contacts. When it was my turn at the pay phone, my hand shook as I dialed my parents collect. None of it felt real.

And it certainly didn’t feel any more real, or any better, when my mother informed me that my father was home from work. My father was never home from work, when work was happening. He led his team, and his team did important things…

…yet there he was in the kitchen, at home on a Tuesday. As I cried to my mother that I felt like I was trapped in the city, my father told her to tell me to go to a church, because that was traditionally the last place attacked, as far as these things go.

So I wandered outside, with a bit of urgency, as I was terrified that Penn Station was evacuating for a reason darker than simple precaution. And two blocks away, I found a church: St. Francis.

I’d noticed this church before, as it had my favorite Catholic statue out in front – Saint Francis, with his constant bluebird companion. All right, then, I thought, as I entered what would become my September 11^th sanctuary.

I’d never seen St. Francis more packed, than it was on that day. People filled the courtyard, surrounded the statue. Most were trying to find in equal parts, community and a cell phone signal. A lucky few had working laptops, and gave updates, as the day went on.

But even those updates were spotty, so when someone piped up a little bit louder with: “One of the Towers is falling,” the rest of us listened, and cried, and hugged, and prayed.

Some of us stumbled into the side outdoor area, the place with the candles, where you can donate, and light one, and kneel, and pray some more. I will never forget doing that, and staring up into the sky. Half of me was waiting for an ominous plane to drop a bomb or thereabouts, and that would be it. The other half was thinking about my family. My brothers, especially. There in the city, trapped by transportation and terrorists, I felt like a sitting duck. That at any moment, some asshole would see to it that I would never see my brothers again.

So I guess that both my halves were thinking the same thing, only from different angles. Basically, I’ve never felt quite so helpless in my entire life, for such an extended period of time.

And it wasn’t even that long of a time, as far as these things go. But it felt like “Buffy” S3 “Anne” time. Every minute felt like a hellish eternity. And speaking of hellish eternities, during my terror in the candle area, there was a woman next to me. Only she seemed to be doing a lot more praying than I was.

And she seemed peaceful, albeit passionate about her prayers for those around her. When I finally came back to Earth after all of the crying and praying, mostly crying, she looked at me with the utmost of compassion, even more than the awesome lady on the train with the tissues.

“Why are you crying?” she asked me, and told me her name was Elisa.

My innate response was “Well, duh,” but this woman was way too nice to deserve such snark, on such a day. So I just told her the basic truth, that I was terrified I was going to die. And that I felt incredibly selfish, because people were dying, and all I could feel was my own fear.

Then another woman popped out of the ether. She was a marathon runner, and kept saying that she’d ran way more than the distance it would take to get back to Long Island. And although I still hadn’t lost the 30 pounds I’d gained the year before, I’d been running on the treadmill, and was like, yeah!

Elisa, though older than both me and the marathoner, was also like, yeah! But first, she wanted to go downstairs, where a priest was hearing confessions. And honestly, I’m not sure which part of me was more won over – the part that had been raised Catholic, or the part that admired the people on the Titanic who went down with the ship, if it meant preserving their life’s calling, and overall good. “Gentlemen, it’s been an honor…”

So I told the marathon runner that I’d be up shortly; Elisa and I both would, but first, we had to go to confession.

Down in the basement of St. Francis, it was dark and scary because of what was going on, but beyond that, it was everything I’d ever loved about religion, church, community, et al. Elisa and I knelt, and sang, and prayed, and waited our turn. When I confessed to the priest, there was no part of me that felt Alanis’s “Forgiven” pain. This dude, this priest, this person – he was here for the long haul, to serve his God and fellow people, when all I wanted to do was run away.

So I confessed the worst of my soul, while my feet were getting itchy in the figurative sense. True to her word, Elisa said her own confession and bolted upstairs with me, ready to join the marathon runner and jog home to Long Island from Sixth and 32^nd.

The marathon runner had already started jogging apparently, because she was nowhere to be found. And I totally understood; I’d have done the same.

As luck or fate or fortune or God’s saints would have it, busses were starting to pull up around town, to take people to the bridges that you could walk across. Elisa and I didn’t have to jog to a bridge; a bus would take us.

Filled with the gloriousness of religion and faith when it touches you the hardest, I joined Elisa, in signing the cross as we passed churches and other assorted NYC landmarks. Why was I so afraid to be so bold in my faith before? I wondered.

The bus let us out, and Elisa and I were in front of the 59^th Street Bridge. We walked across it together, hand in hand. Sometimes we walked, but mostly, we jogged. Neither of us could shake the fear that at any minute, a plane or some other missile of harm, would come and take out the bridge. At one point, Elisa got really urgent. “Don’t look, Judi – DON’T LOOK.” I was positive that something evil was coming for us. Another explosion, of some nature. Death, for certain.

She was just not wanting me to look behind us – at the now-famous shot of our beautiful and glorious city burning.

When we left the bridge, and arrived in Queens, I literally cheered and kissed the ground. Then a politician gave us water, endearing me to politics forever, while also cynicizing me to politics forever.

We were still not home, though. I was energized, fueled with adrenaline. I think Elisa was too, but she got tripped up by an especially aggressive subway turnstile. It was time to GO HOME, but I realized in that moment that I’d wait forever, for my September 11^th partner. It was in that moment that I fully realized I’d had a September 11^th partner.

“I will pray for you, and we will keep in touch,” Elisa and I both said to each other, as we rode the blessed LIRR home to our various destinations.

The former is true, but the latter was not. It was for a little while, but then life got away from us. Which in a way is kind of awesome. That so much life could happen, after such a day of the opposite. In the meantime, on our train back from Queens, a dude stood up on the train, all RILED.

“They hit the Kremlin! And it’s bad enough they hit New York, but mess with Russia??? You got a foot up your ass!”

Game of Telephone, September 11^th was, back in good old NYC.

I can’t believe it’s been 11 years since the 11^th. I can’t believe it’s Tuesday, September 11^th again.

God bless New York.

The best essay I’ve ever read on September 11th ❤

Posted in Driving & Other Transportation, Friends, Women | Tagged Amtrak, Catholic, church, Manhattan, New York City, religion, September 11th, St. Francis Church, Twin Towers | 2 Comments

Thank You Josh & Joss (A Buffy Blog)

Posted on September 6, 2012 by judisunshine

For my birthday, I received the gift I’d been wanting the most for so long, but couldn’t justify purchasing, given my financial situation: The entire series collection of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

ZOMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Because now, within my eyesight, I have every single episode of the show I dorked out to most. I want to write a fabulous, deep, insightful blog about what this show meant to me, and continues to mean to me. I thought about writing a “5 Reasons to Watch ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’” blog. And maybe I’ll do both of those in the future.

But today, I really just want to send the world, Josh my boyfriend, and Joss the creator, a heartfelt thank you.

I ride a fine line between endearing and insane, and “Buffy” brings both out of me, in equal parts. See, back in the day when I used to watch “Buffy” in real time, I was going through my early 20s. Catastrophe and romantic dismay abounded at every turn.

During said time, I spent a Valentine’s Day by myself, upstairs in the third-floor bedroom of my parents’ house. Despite my loathing of errands and/or driving to pretty much anything, I’d made the trek to Roosevelt Field. There, I purchased the best thing ever: Season Two Buffy VHS tapes.

You see, this was way before TV on DVD. But “Buffy” has always been ahead of its time, and would put out “best of” tapes. In the case of Season Two, it was the (SPOILER!!!) Angelus eps, the ones that got me into the show in the first place. (Stab my eye, Joss Whedon, for I have failed you, and did not get into your show until 1998. AND YET! I am referencing Season One!)

So on a night that I should have ostensibly been lonely and depressed (more than usz), I went home with the best mall treasures ever!: “Buffy” tapes and food court sushi.

Win-WIN-win.

I felt so much joy back then, even through the midst of my angst, just to have “Buffy” eps, all put together in an awesome package, complete with commentary and other assorted awesomeness.

And throughout a part of my 20s, that’s what kept me afloat. There was a point where I felt like, wait, have I reverted back to five years old, when I had an imaginary friend?

Because Buffy and everyone (especially Willow) felt like friends. Any time I was sad, any time I was lonely – I could put in a tape, and there they would be. Clever, strong people who saved the world on a daily basis, dwarfing my woe.

“That was then. This is now.” That’s a line from my favorite (if I HAVE to pick just one) “Buffy” ep of all time, “Innocence.” And it remains relevant to my life!

I woke up on my 37^th birthday full of 20s angst. Life was changing; life was leaving, and one day I will die. This is how I roll, mentally.

And, as if possessed, I walked towards the bookcase in my living room that holds the DVDs. Because I needed to watch “Surprise.” Because it was my birthday! Just like Buffy!

And…something more. I am not sure what.

Murphy’s Law reared its dreary head, as the one disc that held “Surprise?” Surprise! No birthday “Buffy” ep for you. Not sure at all what happened to that disc, but its missingness is actually a testament to its awesomeness, because that means it’s one I’ve watched a lot.

I’d had NO idea that Josh bought me the “Buffy” series collection. But he did.

And we watched “Surprise.” AND “Innocence.” Happy birthday to ME. Because we also finished out Season Two.

What you need to understand, is that how some people feel about “Star Trek?” Or “Star Wars?” (I would have slashed it into one simple line, but I’ve seen “Fanboys.” (How much does Kristen Bell rule the planet?)) How some people feel about the Broncos or the Yankees? That is what “Buffy” is to me. This show is the foundation, for better or for worse, of my Internet addiction. Because I’m jacked in 😉

“Buffy” tears (in a good way) at my heart, my soul, my mind, my creativity. It fuels me; I’m neither gonna lie nor front.

Thing is, though? It hasn’t, for a long time. Not since my aforementioned 20s. It haunted me; it stayed with me, but although I’ve seen my favorite eps a billion times, and even my least fave a handful, I have never rewatched this glorious series, beginning to end.

For the first time in a long time, I was waiting. I owned battered (and bewildered?) seasons on DVDS, since they started making them. But “Buffy” didn’t deserve Netflix filling in the gaps. “Buffy” deserved to be within eyesight.

Every. Single. Ep. (<– Internet speak. Which I know, due to “Buffy.”) They’re within my reach. And I am humbled.

Thank you, Josh, for my birthday present.

Thank you, Joss, for my birthday present.

(More on this to follow.)

Posted in AcTING!, Animals, Apartments & Other Domiciles, Body Image, Books, Buffy, Celebrities, Childhood, Entertainment, Family, Food, Friends, Going Out, Miscellaneous, Movies, Music, Romance, School, Superheroes/Villains, Supernatural :o, Vacations, Video Games, Women, Work | Tagged 20s, 30s, Alyson Hannigan, Angelus, Anthony Stewart Head, awsesomeness, birthday, Buffy Summers, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, catastrophe, clever, collection, David Boreanaz, Denver Broncos, dorking out, eps, fuel, I'm jacked in, imaginary friend, Innocene Buffy ep, insane, Jenny Calendar, Josh, Joss Whedon, joy, Kristen Bell is aswesome, Kristine Sutherland, lonely, Long Island, more to follow, Murphy's Law, New York Yankees, nicholas brendan, romantic dismay, Roosevelt Field, Rupert Giles, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Season Two, shows, Surprise Buffy ep, teen shows, Valentine's Day, VHS, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris | 1 Comment

Oh My God, It’s A Mirage

Posted on September 1, 2012 by judisunshine

Steeple guide me to my heart and home

The sun is out and up and down again

~ Smashing Pumpkins

The place is expanding, this place I’ve seen so many times before, alone, filling up with people from my entire life. Different homes, stores, schools, jobs, all melding into one community, though it sprawls. The carnival remains capricious, elusive, and still foreboding.

I’m chilling in a hot tub with some friends and it’s on the third floor of the Baldwin house, the room where I ran on a treadmill in 2000, and typed newsletters in junior high. The room I stayed in with my two kittens while I was in limbo with the ex, where my heart broke and finally shattered. Now here I am with new friends in a hot tub and it’s nice until the water level starts rising and the house begins to sink. I feel an unprecedented, logical calm, and simply remove the tarp that is blocking the drain, and the house stops sinking, but some people had already moved on. I’m beginning to prune so I get out too, and as I dry off, out of the corner of my eye I see two strangers in the yard, in the shadows, and I dial 911 before I can dismiss my gut, except I feel terrible when the operator asks what is going on and people around are yelling at me for pranking the police, and really, I have no evidence, just a feeling, but the strange men are gone and I realize how ridiculous I am being and hang up the phone. 911 calls me back but I ignore it, knowing they’ll eventually go away.

Thank goodness we averted that potential awkwardness, and we’re all able to have a pleasant night before work the next day. We are all at the same job, and around me is the usual day-to-day buzzing, until everything gets very still and silent.

The way someone new gets introduced to at work is the way this new guy is introduced and in one agonizing second I know three things. This is one of the men from the yard, and his costume makes him look like he’s off the set of the “Sabotage” video, and he is possibly here to kill us all.

Sure enough, “This is a man who has a gun, so we need to do what he says.”

I am so enraged at being a sitting duck in a modern office cliché that I feel no fear, just an extreme desire to somehow take this guy down. But then he says, “If you were one of the people with me yesterday who stayed with me while I got my X-ray, you may leave; I will not hurt you.”

And I remember yesterday, I stayed by this man’s side while he was hurt and needed help. And I guess it is a big deal to him because even behind the disguise I see his face soften when I raise my hand to remind him, feeling like a teacher’s pet, as I stand up to leave. “Thank you so much, oh thank you so much,” and I know that is pushing it; I should just leave and be grateful, but there are people in that room I love deeply, and I can’t help myself.

“I love you guys so much, so much…” and the gunman’s face contorts with rage at my insubordination, and he shoots me carelessly, not caring if I die, just wanting me silent. The bullet rips into my waist and I fall to the ground in searing pain and disbelief. I curl into a fetal position and hold on best as I can, pray, and repeat “It’s okay…it’s okay…” and it does feel okay, whether I die or not, and I don’t regret saying I love you. And slowly they’re set free, and I cling to their legs, begging them to help make the blood stop. I’m so happy to see them, but they don’t seem to see me. But it’s okay. I feel safe and I feel loved and I feel very, very sleepy.

First Dream
Second Dream
Third Dream
Fourth Dream
Fifth Dream
Sixth Dream

Posted in Childhood, Dreams, Family, Friends, Supernatural :o, Women, Work | Tagged 911, Dreams, getting shot in your dreams and waking up sore, Life, office shootings, pranks, Sabotage, Smashing Pumpkins 33 | Leave a comment

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