Remember my resolution to cease my obsessive web surfing this weekend? Okay. So I couldn’t completely quit the intrawebs cold turkey. The web, my friends, is like crack; you’ve gotta ease the sucker out of your system slowly or else you will prowl the streets searching for gullible iPhone carrying pedestrians to MUG so you could get your greedy paws on their 3G data plan. Oh the sweet sweet release of connectivity! Not that I’ve been prowling the mean streets of Long Beach like The Hamburgler looking for my next Robble Robble.
This weekend, I…
Visited my backyard for the first time in years. We used to have a tree with a swing. This tree is now a stump. When did my dad cut down the tree? Am I that much of a techno-junkie that I failed to notice a missing tree? As you can imagine, I had what amounted to an existential crisis of epic proportions. I sat on the stump and assumed the Thinking Man position. Then I proceeded to ponder many things. When I was done pondering, I was struck by the beauty of a flower. With its petals spread and stamens standing at attention, it was… O’Keefe-y and reminded me of Fingersmith. See how certain books tend to sneak up on you at the weirdest times?
I cruised on a Duffy boat manned by a dock boy named—and I kid you not—Buoy. I’m happy to report that I did not throw up. See? I tend to throw up in planes (don’t ever ride next to me on a cross country flight) and on the bus when I’m riding sideways, also in cars if we’re driving down a winding road. Who knew I had sea legs? My boat trip reminded me of The Witch of Blackbird Pond and other such nautical tales.
It’s finally happened. Someone has asked me to do a dramatic reading! Okay. Since high school I’ve been memorizing random Shakespearian soliloquies and sonnets, Robert Frost’s Fire and Ice, Langston Hughes’ Harlem, and excerpts from Sullivan Ballou’s Letter to Sarah (see Ken Burn’s Civil War Documentary). I like to read my melodramatic 10th grade diary, Raych’s book reviews (I can act out her ALL CAPS better than the Royal Shakespeare Academy!), and the famous first paragraph of The Haunting of Hill House (I use a sinister witch’s voice for this one) in the HOPES that one day I will be called upon to do a dramatic reading at a wine and cheese party. But can you believe it? This has never happened! Here’s the Catch-22: I don’t get invited to parties BECAUSE I insist on doing dramatic readings. What is wrong with people? Dramatic readings of English Literature as performed by a feisty little Asian girl is, quite possibly, the most entertaining icebreaker ever. Nevertheless my Saturday nights are always suspiciously empty and I think…I think people sneak off to these parties and “forget” to tell me. This time not one but TWO people requested dramatic readings and I delivered. Oh Hecuba did I deliver! *Does Hammer Dance*
Finally, mind your ears. It’s about to get loud… GHOSTWRITER SEASON ONE IS ON DVD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The DVD case is modeled after the team’s case book. I wore a pen around my neck and accumulated a stack of marble composition books because of this show. And need I mention how many times I dreamed that something untoward would happen to the actress who played Tina so they could cast me as a slightly younger Tina (um…nine year old Tina) so I could smooch with Alex in the dumpster?!!
Oh Alejandro Fernandez! I will befriend Gaby and put up with Lenny’s hats and visit your family’s Bodega for a chance to wear your Dragon B-ball jacket! I love you more than JTT.
I leave you with my favorite Ghostwriter line as first spoken by a young Julia Stiles in the “Who is Max Mouse?” episode.
“Can you jam with the console cowboys of cyberspace?”