Look around you. There’s always someone who has it better, and always someone who has it worse. So when things are good, smile and savor every moment because it won’t always be this easy. And when things are tough, keep your chin up and your shoulders back because it won’t always be this hard.
The only thing that ever stays the same is that everything changes.
8.03.2009
6.04.2009
LA Architecture Examiner
I am it.
Let me know if there are any buildings you've seen around town that you'd like to know more about. I'm going to try to have a new article up 3 - 4 times a week.
Daunting? You bet!
4.02.2009
A word.
Think of a word that inspires you. A word that makes you smile or square your shoulders or laugh. It’s a word. And – like any word – it can sometimes be used so often that it begins to lose the force it once had. Instead of knocking you flat with the power of it, it can just fade to an annoying nudge after a while of overuse. Eventually it’s reduced to a sound; a collection of letters pushed through lips that the heart never even touches. But then, something happens. You see something -- a person, a place, an action – and the word that used to skip over your ears so easily now becomes the only thing you can hear. It’s the only word that your mind can supply you with to explain what you’ve seen and what you’re feeling. That word suddenly gives the strongest voice to the beating of your heart, and you can feel it there again.
This is the how the word love touched my heart again.
People talk about love a lot. The word gets used a million times a day in a million different sentences spoken by a million different mouths. “I love you,” “I love this song,” “don’t you love this weather?” A million times a day. From family, from friends, and sometimes from total strangers, those four letters fall into the air and disappear like a fine wisp of smoke. And it’s not so much that I started to take the word for granted as it just started to fade. It became the smoke instead of the flame. Until I saw that something that ignited it again.
On Wednesday, I was sitting in the UCLA chemotherapy room where my mom has been going for treatments for a few years now. We always like to get a seat near the end of the building when we can, because the windows look out onto the playground of the elementary school across the street. My mom likes to watch the little kids on their recess and lunch breaks as they play tag and ride their tricycles. I like to watch the cars pass and judge the drivers who don’t know that I can see them through their sunroofs.
This day, however, I was enjoying the less cynical business of watching the kids roll around on all the bikes and wagons the school had for them. As each group of children pedaled and pushed, I laughed to myself at how – even at such a young age – you could already see how these kids were going to be as adults. There was the boy who abandoned his trike after one lap in favor of exploring in the bushes, the girl who giggled with her friends as they took turns pushing each other in their red wagon, and the group that was desperately trying to outrun the pursuing teacher.
But then there was the little blond boy who stood by himself, empty wagon at his side, waiting for someone to jump in. I saw his head turn as he watched each child that rode or ran by him. I could almost feel him hold his breath in anticipation that this would be the boy who asked for a ride or the girl who offered to steer. And I could see his tiny shoulders fall a little after everyone continued past him. For ten full minutes he stood at the ready, and for ten full minutes he stood alone.
My heart broke for him in those minutes, and I wanted so badly for someone to just see him. For someone to see the smile on his face and the way he held that wagon steady. He was there, and I wanted him to know that I saw him.
Eventually, another boy pedaled up to him and they chatted for a bit before he rode away and the little blond boy skipped off to play in the sandbox. But I could still see the boy by himself while the other kids ran past him, unaware. I’m sure he’s not alone and I’m sure he has friends in his class and parents who pick him up at 3:00p. But for that moment when I first saw him, he had no one. And it got me thinking about the people who start that way and never really get to see the end of it.
Whether they start out as shy kids who never manage to make those connections with others, or whether they become adults who can’t figure out how not to sever them, there are people in this world who are alone. By choice or not, they have no one and no one has them. The blond boy at the playground for a few minutes, the woman in the chemo chair behind my mom’s for a few hours, or my grandmother for a lifetime. These people were alone. When I thought about how awful it must be to live your life like that for even a second, I looked at my mom sleeping in that chair. I saw her IV piping toxicity into her veins to keep her living and her headphones piping Madame Butterfly into her ears to keep her alive, and one word filled my heart in that moment.
Love.
No matter what we have seen or what is to come, she loves me. She has cared for me and adored me every second of my life, and she never let me lose sight of that. I am loved. By at least one person on this planet, I am loved unconditionally and unendingly. But the beauty of my life is that she’s not the only person who loves me. My mother, my aunts, my uncles, my grandparents, my brother, my cousin, my closest friends, my distant friends. All of these people have a space in their hearts and in their lives that they allow me to occupy. How lucky am I? I’ve known plenty of people who can’t claim even a sliver of anyone’s heart as their own, but I have two fistfuls of people who truly love me. Two fistfuls of people who live in my heart, too.
I am loved, and I love. I wish the same for everyone, always.
This is the how the word love touched my heart again.
People talk about love a lot. The word gets used a million times a day in a million different sentences spoken by a million different mouths. “I love you,” “I love this song,” “don’t you love this weather?” A million times a day. From family, from friends, and sometimes from total strangers, those four letters fall into the air and disappear like a fine wisp of smoke. And it’s not so much that I started to take the word for granted as it just started to fade. It became the smoke instead of the flame. Until I saw that something that ignited it again.
On Wednesday, I was sitting in the UCLA chemotherapy room where my mom has been going for treatments for a few years now. We always like to get a seat near the end of the building when we can, because the windows look out onto the playground of the elementary school across the street. My mom likes to watch the little kids on their recess and lunch breaks as they play tag and ride their tricycles. I like to watch the cars pass and judge the drivers who don’t know that I can see them through their sunroofs.
This day, however, I was enjoying the less cynical business of watching the kids roll around on all the bikes and wagons the school had for them. As each group of children pedaled and pushed, I laughed to myself at how – even at such a young age – you could already see how these kids were going to be as adults. There was the boy who abandoned his trike after one lap in favor of exploring in the bushes, the girl who giggled with her friends as they took turns pushing each other in their red wagon, and the group that was desperately trying to outrun the pursuing teacher.
But then there was the little blond boy who stood by himself, empty wagon at his side, waiting for someone to jump in. I saw his head turn as he watched each child that rode or ran by him. I could almost feel him hold his breath in anticipation that this would be the boy who asked for a ride or the girl who offered to steer. And I could see his tiny shoulders fall a little after everyone continued past him. For ten full minutes he stood at the ready, and for ten full minutes he stood alone.
My heart broke for him in those minutes, and I wanted so badly for someone to just see him. For someone to see the smile on his face and the way he held that wagon steady. He was there, and I wanted him to know that I saw him.
Eventually, another boy pedaled up to him and they chatted for a bit before he rode away and the little blond boy skipped off to play in the sandbox. But I could still see the boy by himself while the other kids ran past him, unaware. I’m sure he’s not alone and I’m sure he has friends in his class and parents who pick him up at 3:00p. But for that moment when I first saw him, he had no one. And it got me thinking about the people who start that way and never really get to see the end of it.
Whether they start out as shy kids who never manage to make those connections with others, or whether they become adults who can’t figure out how not to sever them, there are people in this world who are alone. By choice or not, they have no one and no one has them. The blond boy at the playground for a few minutes, the woman in the chemo chair behind my mom’s for a few hours, or my grandmother for a lifetime. These people were alone. When I thought about how awful it must be to live your life like that for even a second, I looked at my mom sleeping in that chair. I saw her IV piping toxicity into her veins to keep her living and her headphones piping Madame Butterfly into her ears to keep her alive, and one word filled my heart in that moment.
Love.
No matter what we have seen or what is to come, she loves me. She has cared for me and adored me every second of my life, and she never let me lose sight of that. I am loved. By at least one person on this planet, I am loved unconditionally and unendingly. But the beauty of my life is that she’s not the only person who loves me. My mother, my aunts, my uncles, my grandparents, my brother, my cousin, my closest friends, my distant friends. All of these people have a space in their hearts and in their lives that they allow me to occupy. How lucky am I? I’ve known plenty of people who can’t claim even a sliver of anyone’s heart as their own, but I have two fistfuls of people who truly love me. Two fistfuls of people who live in my heart, too.
I am loved, and I love. I wish the same for everyone, always.
1.14.2009
Dear Dad,
Happy birthday.
It’s been roughly a year since I last spoke to you. I say “roughly” because, as you know, it was a gradual transition from the occasional e-mail or phone call to the infrequent text to just not responding to anything you sent me. And I stopped responding because I woke up one morning towards the end and realized that I hadn’t spoken with you or even thought about you in a long while, and I was okay with that.
See, the way I finally figured out how to get through to you was through silence. Because no matter what I ever had to say to you, you were only going to hear whatever you wanted to. I was always going to be the kid that your evil ex-wife turned against you, and nothing I could ever say or do was going to change that. I would fight with you and plead with you to understand that all I ever wanted from you was your love, but what I finally came to see after all the arguments was that you didn’t have any. For me or anyone else. Whatever path your life had taken to lead you to where you were had also ruined your ability to love other people. So in a way, you made it easy for me to fall out of your life completely. You’d been pushing me out for so long, in the end all I had to do was take one small step and I was out of it entirely. Now I’m no longer the daughter you lost in your bitter divorce, I’m no one.
Because of that, I find that I’m not nearly as tortured as I used to be. I’m still plenty jaded by you, but every day I lose a little bit of the wall you built for me. I give people chances, and they don’t always let me down. I give people my heart, and they take care of it. I give people my trust, and they don’t make me wonder what kind of mistake I’ve made in doing so. Every day that passes teaches me that you were a bad example of what normal people are: you’re not the standard, you’re the exception. After all these years, your grip on my life is starting to loosen.
There are still times that I think of you with a smile on my face, and those times are the hardest to get through. Whenever it rains, I sit in the big armchair by our picture window that looks out over the valley and I remember how you taught me to love thunder storms. I think about how you used to stand in the open doorway and listen to the deep thunder roll across the night air. I was always scared at first, but the huge grin on your face and your big arms around my tiny shoulders made it feel safer. You promised me that no matter how the sky lit up with lightning, no matter how angry those cracks of thunder got, the rain would always calm the night and still the noise. The distant rumblings as the clouds passed were like soothing apologies for the violence of the storm.
And something else reminded me of that side of you that I loved. A couple weeks ago, I bowled a 244. A 244!! I was hardly paying attention to the pins at all; I was just throwing the ball and laughing with my friend. Suddenly I noticed that I had somehow managed a strike in every frame except for a few! My very first thought was how excited you would have been to be there. I could see the smile on your face as you raised your arms in shared triumph: you would shout in that way that you do when you're excited about something, and maybe even do that silly victory dance for me. You would then walk calmly up to the counter and ask for a printout of the scoreboard from lane 20, because your daughter had just bowled a near-perfect game. And maybe, just maybe, you’d offer to buy me a Violet Crumble candy bar in celebration.
That day still creeps up on me sometimes, and I wish that I could have picked up my phone and told you about it. Bowling was always something that brought us together like the family we should have been. For ten or twenty frames, you were my dad and I was your kid; that was all we needed to know.
Now, though, my days are filled with other thoughts. Thoughts and events that I have no desire to share with the stranger you’ve become. The rational part of me, the part that will forever bear the slightest scar of you, knows that you are beyond reach and that my life is better without you in it. I’m happy and I’m thriving despite quite a lot of obstacles. You couldn’t ruin me the way you wanted to, and I’ve become someone who is loved and respected. I live my life with as much joy and passion as I can pack into it, and I share that with the people who support me.
I’m sad you’re not one of those people, but it doesn’t kill me like it used to. Every so often I cry for the life that we never could seem to work out between us, but now the pain has gone out of it. I’m just sad for you, daddy.
So on your birthday I just want to tell you this: I love you. I will always nurture the slightest flicker of hope that one day you’ll realize what that truly means, despite the years telling me that it will never happen. Should that day ever come for you, I hope it brings you at least a moment of peace in your lifetime.
Erin
Happy birthday.
It’s been roughly a year since I last spoke to you. I say “roughly” because, as you know, it was a gradual transition from the occasional e-mail or phone call to the infrequent text to just not responding to anything you sent me. And I stopped responding because I woke up one morning towards the end and realized that I hadn’t spoken with you or even thought about you in a long while, and I was okay with that.
See, the way I finally figured out how to get through to you was through silence. Because no matter what I ever had to say to you, you were only going to hear whatever you wanted to. I was always going to be the kid that your evil ex-wife turned against you, and nothing I could ever say or do was going to change that. I would fight with you and plead with you to understand that all I ever wanted from you was your love, but what I finally came to see after all the arguments was that you didn’t have any. For me or anyone else. Whatever path your life had taken to lead you to where you were had also ruined your ability to love other people. So in a way, you made it easy for me to fall out of your life completely. You’d been pushing me out for so long, in the end all I had to do was take one small step and I was out of it entirely. Now I’m no longer the daughter you lost in your bitter divorce, I’m no one.
Because of that, I find that I’m not nearly as tortured as I used to be. I’m still plenty jaded by you, but every day I lose a little bit of the wall you built for me. I give people chances, and they don’t always let me down. I give people my heart, and they take care of it. I give people my trust, and they don’t make me wonder what kind of mistake I’ve made in doing so. Every day that passes teaches me that you were a bad example of what normal people are: you’re not the standard, you’re the exception. After all these years, your grip on my life is starting to loosen.
There are still times that I think of you with a smile on my face, and those times are the hardest to get through. Whenever it rains, I sit in the big armchair by our picture window that looks out over the valley and I remember how you taught me to love thunder storms. I think about how you used to stand in the open doorway and listen to the deep thunder roll across the night air. I was always scared at first, but the huge grin on your face and your big arms around my tiny shoulders made it feel safer. You promised me that no matter how the sky lit up with lightning, no matter how angry those cracks of thunder got, the rain would always calm the night and still the noise. The distant rumblings as the clouds passed were like soothing apologies for the violence of the storm.
And something else reminded me of that side of you that I loved. A couple weeks ago, I bowled a 244. A 244!! I was hardly paying attention to the pins at all; I was just throwing the ball and laughing with my friend. Suddenly I noticed that I had somehow managed a strike in every frame except for a few! My very first thought was how excited you would have been to be there. I could see the smile on your face as you raised your arms in shared triumph: you would shout in that way that you do when you're excited about something, and maybe even do that silly victory dance for me. You would then walk calmly up to the counter and ask for a printout of the scoreboard from lane 20, because your daughter had just bowled a near-perfect game. And maybe, just maybe, you’d offer to buy me a Violet Crumble candy bar in celebration.
That day still creeps up on me sometimes, and I wish that I could have picked up my phone and told you about it. Bowling was always something that brought us together like the family we should have been. For ten or twenty frames, you were my dad and I was your kid; that was all we needed to know.
Now, though, my days are filled with other thoughts. Thoughts and events that I have no desire to share with the stranger you’ve become. The rational part of me, the part that will forever bear the slightest scar of you, knows that you are beyond reach and that my life is better without you in it. I’m happy and I’m thriving despite quite a lot of obstacles. You couldn’t ruin me the way you wanted to, and I’ve become someone who is loved and respected. I live my life with as much joy and passion as I can pack into it, and I share that with the people who support me.
I’m sad you’re not one of those people, but it doesn’t kill me like it used to. Every so often I cry for the life that we never could seem to work out between us, but now the pain has gone out of it. I’m just sad for you, daddy.
So on your birthday I just want to tell you this: I love you. I will always nurture the slightest flicker of hope that one day you’ll realize what that truly means, despite the years telling me that it will never happen. Should that day ever come for you, I hope it brings you at least a moment of peace in your lifetime.
Erin
12.05.2008
It's genetic.
My cat loves to chase my mom and I around the house all the time. Up and down the hallway he stalks us, and every so often, he catches us with his claws. While I just yank my pants leg out of his grip, my mom's thinner pants make her more prone to his attacks than myself. So, naturally, her first reaction whenever he snags her is to wheel around, glare at him and shout, "how would you like it if I bit YOU?! Or better yet, how about I just toss you off the balcony like a flying squirrel? Then you won't chase me anymore!" Mostly this exchange just makes me laugh. But from time to time I like to just let me mom know that following through with her threats is not okay.
This is a 100% genuine sample of a normal, everyday conversation between my mother and myself:
Erin: Try not to kill the kitty cat while I'm at work. No flying squirrels off of the balcony!
Mommie: Too late, I just FedExed Binx up to Colin ... without the box!
Erin: OMG, you totally stapled a packing slip to his tail, didn't you?!
Mommie: Ah, no. That would have been cruel. I superglued bubble wrap to him and taped the packing slip to THAT. DUH!
Erin: Did you at least poke holes in the bubble wrap so he can breathe?! Actually, he'll probably claw a few air holes himself, so no worries!
Mommie: You must really think I'm mean, GEESH. I put a straw through the bubble wrap and just to be sure he is safe marked it THIS SIDE UP!
Erin: Oh whew! A straw is a good idea, he can totally figure out how to suck air through a straw. Bye bye, Binx. Sorry you have to be shipped to death.
Mommie: In best ghetto accent: "Oh no I din...n't, foo, Binx like, he chillin' man! That superglue is fly, stuck that sucka's lips right to the straw. No way he lose it man. Know what I sayin'?"
Back in normal voice, I also left instructions for Binx in 3 languages.
Plus I shipped him overnight express delivery. If he gets a hairball stuck in the straw he can hold his breath that long.
This is a 100% genuine sample of a normal, everyday conversation between my mother and myself:
Erin: Try not to kill the kitty cat while I'm at work. No flying squirrels off of the balcony!
Mommie: Too late, I just FedExed Binx up to Colin ... without the box!
Erin: OMG, you totally stapled a packing slip to his tail, didn't you?!
Mommie: Ah, no. That would have been cruel. I superglued bubble wrap to him and taped the packing slip to THAT. DUH!
Erin: Did you at least poke holes in the bubble wrap so he can breathe?! Actually, he'll probably claw a few air holes himself, so no worries!
Mommie: You must really think I'm mean, GEESH. I put a straw through the bubble wrap and just to be sure he is safe marked it THIS SIDE UP!
Erin: Oh whew! A straw is a good idea, he can totally figure out how to suck air through a straw. Bye bye, Binx. Sorry you have to be shipped to death.
Mommie: In best ghetto accent: "Oh no I din...n't, foo, Binx like, he chillin' man! That superglue is fly, stuck that sucka's lips right to the straw. No way he lose it man. Know what I sayin'?"
Back in normal voice, I also left instructions for Binx in 3 languages.
Plus I shipped him overnight express delivery. If he gets a hairball stuck in the straw he can hold his breath that long.
11.19.2008
I Spy Some Funny. Again.
Background:
One day Faryl was bored at work and asked me why the day was taking so long. I figured that she should have this conversation with the day itself, so I decided to play the role. Now when she's bored at work, she addresses Day directly, hence the brief narrative switch from Erin to Day. My alter ego had to step in for me for reasons that will become clear as you read.
Also, we play long-distance I Spy all day. We're just that cool.
On with the show.
Erin: Now I Spy something high.
Faryl: has SBTL been smoking pot again?
Erin: Hold on a minute while I pick myself up off the floor and wipe the tears from my eyes. You kill me with your funny.
Faryl: haha good.
hmm.
19. does it use power?
Erin: Yes.
Faryl: 18. is it florescent?
Erin: Nope.
P.S. I had to talk to SBTL just now, and I was starting to crack a little towards the end. I can never look at her the same after that. Thank you.
Faryl: i do what i can
Erin: Yes you certainly do.
Faryl: 17. does it make cold air?
Erin: Nope.
Faryl: 16. is it on the ceiling?
Erin: Yes.
Faryl: 15. is there one on my ceiling?
Erin: Yes.
Wait.
It COULD be on the wall.
Faryl: hmm. 14. does it come in various colors?
Erin: I think it always has to be the color it is. I've seen people paint them, but I'm pretty sure that's not allowed.
Faryl: 13. does it warn you if something's wrong?
Erin: Yes.
Faryl: 12. does it light up?
Erin: In a manner, yes.
Faryl: 11. does it make annoying noises?
Erin: You betcha.
Faryl: 10. i'm going to have to guess SBTL again
Erin: Day: I'm sorry, Erin's dead now. I'm going to have to take over from here.
Faryl: aw ok Day.
9. does it need its batteries replaced?
Erin: Day: Yes.
Faryl: 8. Oh so SBTL's sex toys?
Erin: God: Fuck. You killed Erin AND Monday?
Faryl: jeez, they're dropping like flies
Erin: God: Well, you're damn funny, woman.
Faryl: 7. is it smokin'?
Erin: God: Well, it doesn't smoke itself, no.
Faryl: 6. does it need a smoke?
Erin: God: Like I need your donations every Sunday.
Which is to say, yes.
Faryl: 5. does it drink too?
Erin: God: It's a heathen in all ways. I really messed up when I was creating this one.
Faryl: well i don't think Regina George is in your office but ok
Erin: God: Ooo, burn. Yeah, sorry about that one. I let Von Baby Jesus take over for a minute, and he obviously wasn't ready.
Faryl: tisk tisk
Erin: God: Dude, I heard the ice cream truck. What do you want from me? I had to get outside quick, and Little Jesus was the only one around.
Faryl: well i can't blame you
Erin: God: Right? Who doesn't love those ice cream bars shaped like Bugs Bunny? Gumballs for eyes, mmmm.
Faryl: mm
Erin: God: See?
I was totally justified.
But still, sorry about her.
Faryl: right
Faryl: oh its a smoke detector
Erin: God: Yays!
Erin: God: So, since I'm all omniscient and shit, you want me to see if I can get Erin back here for you? The game would probably last longer.
Faryl: yeah that sounds good
Erin: God: Alright, hang on a sec.
God: Yo, Hell!
Hell: Word up, God.
God: Can I get Erin back, please? Her friend kinda needs her to play I Spy.
Hell: I dunno, man. She's, like, saving seats or some shit. Lemme go see what I can do.
God: Appreciate it, Hell.
Hell: Looks like she's willing to go back if I promise to keep her and her friends together when they all get here. I think I can swing that, they'll be fun to watch.
God: Thanks man, I owe you one.
Hell: No worries, Dog. Shout at ya later.
God: You know I hate it when you call me Dog. The irony is painful.
Hell: You love it.
God: Alright, my child. I got your friend back for you. Have fun playing I Spy with her, and try not to kill her so much, hmm?
Faryl: i'll do my best
Erin: God: That's all I can ask. Peace.
Faryl: And also with you
One day Faryl was bored at work and asked me why the day was taking so long. I figured that she should have this conversation with the day itself, so I decided to play the role. Now when she's bored at work, she addresses Day directly, hence the brief narrative switch from Erin to Day. My alter ego had to step in for me for reasons that will become clear as you read.
Also, we play long-distance I Spy all day. We're just that cool.
On with the show.
Erin: Now I Spy something high.
Faryl: has SBTL been smoking pot again?
Erin: Hold on a minute while I pick myself up off the floor and wipe the tears from my eyes. You kill me with your funny.
Faryl: haha good.
hmm.
19. does it use power?
Erin: Yes.
Faryl: 18. is it florescent?
Erin: Nope.
P.S. I had to talk to SBTL just now, and I was starting to crack a little towards the end. I can never look at her the same after that. Thank you.
Faryl: i do what i can
Erin: Yes you certainly do.
Faryl: 17. does it make cold air?
Erin: Nope.
Faryl: 16. is it on the ceiling?
Erin: Yes.
Faryl: 15. is there one on my ceiling?
Erin: Yes.
Wait.
It COULD be on the wall.
Faryl: hmm. 14. does it come in various colors?
Erin: I think it always has to be the color it is. I've seen people paint them, but I'm pretty sure that's not allowed.
Faryl: 13. does it warn you if something's wrong?
Erin: Yes.
Faryl: 12. does it light up?
Erin: In a manner, yes.
Faryl: 11. does it make annoying noises?
Erin: You betcha.
Faryl: 10. i'm going to have to guess SBTL again
Erin: Day: I'm sorry, Erin's dead now. I'm going to have to take over from here.
Faryl: aw ok Day.
9. does it need its batteries replaced?
Erin: Day: Yes.
Faryl: 8. Oh so SBTL's sex toys?
Erin: God: Fuck. You killed Erin AND Monday?
Faryl: jeez, they're dropping like flies
Erin: God: Well, you're damn funny, woman.
Faryl: 7. is it smokin'?
Erin: God: Well, it doesn't smoke itself, no.
Faryl: 6. does it need a smoke?
Erin: God: Like I need your donations every Sunday.
Which is to say, yes.
Faryl: 5. does it drink too?
Erin: God: It's a heathen in all ways. I really messed up when I was creating this one.
Faryl: well i don't think Regina George is in your office but ok
Erin: God: Ooo, burn. Yeah, sorry about that one. I let Von Baby Jesus take over for a minute, and he obviously wasn't ready.
Faryl: tisk tisk
Erin: God: Dude, I heard the ice cream truck. What do you want from me? I had to get outside quick, and Little Jesus was the only one around.
Faryl: well i can't blame you
Erin: God: Right? Who doesn't love those ice cream bars shaped like Bugs Bunny? Gumballs for eyes, mmmm.
Faryl: mm
Erin: God: See?
I was totally justified.
But still, sorry about her.
Faryl: right
Faryl: oh its a smoke detector
Erin: God: Yays!
Erin: God: So, since I'm all omniscient and shit, you want me to see if I can get Erin back here for you? The game would probably last longer.
Faryl: yeah that sounds good
Erin: God: Alright, hang on a sec.
God: Yo, Hell!
Hell: Word up, God.
God: Can I get Erin back, please? Her friend kinda needs her to play I Spy.
Hell: I dunno, man. She's, like, saving seats or some shit. Lemme go see what I can do.
God: Appreciate it, Hell.
Hell: Looks like she's willing to go back if I promise to keep her and her friends together when they all get here. I think I can swing that, they'll be fun to watch.
God: Thanks man, I owe you one.
Hell: No worries, Dog. Shout at ya later.
God: You know I hate it when you call me Dog. The irony is painful.
Hell: You love it.
God: Alright, my child. I got your friend back for you. Have fun playing I Spy with her, and try not to kill her so much, hmm?
Faryl: i'll do my best
Erin: God: That's all I can ask. Peace.
Faryl: And also with you
11.08.2008
Faryl Saar, World Mini Pool Champion
Erin: Hi.
Faryl: howdy
youve been gone a while
Erin: I've been working my ass off to meet this ridiculous deadline they gave me. And they just pushed it back, so ...
Hi.
What'cha been up to since I've been gone?
Faryl: nothing too important
Erin: No?
Faryl: nah. made a couple trailers but that was the highlight and those were pretty bad films
Erin: :( Poor Faryl. I'm going to get you a tiny pool table for your desk for days like today.
Faryl: that would rock
Erin: Yeah?
Alright, it's a deal.
You can be a mini pool player extraordinaire. ESPN will have a day dedicated to you and your life story.
"It all started when her friend gave her her first mini pool table to ward off workplace boredom.
Little did they know, a star was about to be discovered."
Faryl: sweet i can see it now...
i'll have a room full of mini pool tables
and a gold plated one in a glass case
Erin: Yes!!!!
And a mini pool cue made of solid gold that you keep on your wall.
Above the singing fish.
Faryl: aww that's the life
Erin: And Budweiser will be your sponsor and make sure your Winnebago is ALL decked out.
I'm calling ESPN right now.
Faryl: you get on that, Agent
Erin: Sweet! Does that mean I'm officially hired?
Faryl: i'll have the contract faxed over first thing monday morning.
Erin: Wow, I'm honored!
I'll make sure you get only the best endorsements and party deals.
Faryl: that's all I ask
Erin: Alright, I'm excited for this now. You'll get your first mini pool table soon so you can start practicing to be a star like I know you will be.
Faryl: This makes you my enabler
Erin: Only if you start drinking your Budweiser endorsements and become a dirty alcoholic who used to be the world's premier mini pool champ.
Don't do it, kid. Stay away from the bottle.
I wish I'd had someone to give me advice like that.
Wouldda saved my Ma a lot of heartache, I'll tell you that.
Faryl: We're all given a second chance, this could be yours
Erin: You can be what I could have been, kid. With my experience and your fresh face, we'll be unstoppable. The mini pool world will be taken by storm and turned upside down.
You and me, kid. You and me.
Faryl: start montage
You could have been a contender. the bottle destroyed your career, don't let it happen again
Erin: I coulda been a contender!!!
You're the wind beneath my wings. I'll never turn to good ole Jack or José any more.
Faryl: I better not see any rum in that Coke
Erin: See? With you watching out for me I know I can keep my promise and stick to the 12 steps.
Faryl: You must first forgive yourself before you can forgive anyone else
Erin: I don't know if I can do it, Faryl. I don't think I can go to that place in my soul and come out of the darkness again. It's just ... so dark in there. You know? I just caused so much pain and anguish, I don't know if I can ever redeem myself.
Do you think Von Baby Jesus can forgive me?
Faryl: The first step is acceptance, once you have accepted your mistakes Von Baby Jesus will too
Erin: Hold me, Faryl! I need to know that I have at least one person who can see the awful things in my past and forgive me for them! Please, Von Baby Jesus, help your lost lamb find her way back to the flock!
Faryl: Say 5 Hail Mary's and you will be forgiven
Erin: 1. Hail Mary, full of grace, hallowed be thy name. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall not fear death. For my God is a benevolent God, and the only one who could ever reach me was the son of a preacher man.
2. Hail Mary, fuller of grace, halloweder be thy name. Yea, though I walk farther through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall not fear death. For my God is a sooper benevolent God, and the only one who could ever teach me was the son of a preacher man.
Faryl: ok thats good
Erin: All done now?
Faryl: yes you are forgiven
Erin: Praise Von Baby Jesus!
Faryl: Now for the rehab
Erin: I said no, no, no.
Faryl: haha oh god
Erin: Not even He can help us now, my friend.
Faryl: no, no he can't
Erin: That's because He's jealous of how endlessly awesome we are.
Faryl: Oh Von Baby Jesus. Jealousy is the devil's tool
Erin: Hallelujah!
Faryl: howdy
youve been gone a while
Erin: I've been working my ass off to meet this ridiculous deadline they gave me. And they just pushed it back, so ...
Hi.
What'cha been up to since I've been gone?
Faryl: nothing too important
Erin: No?
Faryl: nah. made a couple trailers but that was the highlight and those were pretty bad films
Erin: :( Poor Faryl. I'm going to get you a tiny pool table for your desk for days like today.
Faryl: that would rock
Erin: Yeah?
Alright, it's a deal.
You can be a mini pool player extraordinaire. ESPN will have a day dedicated to you and your life story.
"It all started when her friend gave her her first mini pool table to ward off workplace boredom.
Little did they know, a star was about to be discovered."
Faryl: sweet i can see it now...
i'll have a room full of mini pool tables
and a gold plated one in a glass case
Erin: Yes!!!!
And a mini pool cue made of solid gold that you keep on your wall.
Above the singing fish.
Faryl: aww that's the life
Erin: And Budweiser will be your sponsor and make sure your Winnebago is ALL decked out.
I'm calling ESPN right now.
Faryl: you get on that, Agent
Erin: Sweet! Does that mean I'm officially hired?
Faryl: i'll have the contract faxed over first thing monday morning.
Erin: Wow, I'm honored!
I'll make sure you get only the best endorsements and party deals.
Faryl: that's all I ask
Erin: Alright, I'm excited for this now. You'll get your first mini pool table soon so you can start practicing to be a star like I know you will be.
Faryl: This makes you my enabler
Erin: Only if you start drinking your Budweiser endorsements and become a dirty alcoholic who used to be the world's premier mini pool champ.
Don't do it, kid. Stay away from the bottle.
I wish I'd had someone to give me advice like that.
Wouldda saved my Ma a lot of heartache, I'll tell you that.
Faryl: We're all given a second chance, this could be yours
Erin: You can be what I could have been, kid. With my experience and your fresh face, we'll be unstoppable. The mini pool world will be taken by storm and turned upside down.
You and me, kid. You and me.
Faryl: start montage
You could have been a contender. the bottle destroyed your career, don't let it happen again
Erin: I coulda been a contender!!!
You're the wind beneath my wings. I'll never turn to good ole Jack or José any more.
Faryl: I better not see any rum in that Coke
Erin: See? With you watching out for me I know I can keep my promise and stick to the 12 steps.
Faryl: You must first forgive yourself before you can forgive anyone else
Erin: I don't know if I can do it, Faryl. I don't think I can go to that place in my soul and come out of the darkness again. It's just ... so dark in there. You know? I just caused so much pain and anguish, I don't know if I can ever redeem myself.
Do you think Von Baby Jesus can forgive me?
Faryl: The first step is acceptance, once you have accepted your mistakes Von Baby Jesus will too
Erin: Hold me, Faryl! I need to know that I have at least one person who can see the awful things in my past and forgive me for them! Please, Von Baby Jesus, help your lost lamb find her way back to the flock!
Faryl: Say 5 Hail Mary's and you will be forgiven
Erin: 1. Hail Mary, full of grace, hallowed be thy name. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall not fear death. For my God is a benevolent God, and the only one who could ever reach me was the son of a preacher man.
2. Hail Mary, fuller of grace, halloweder be thy name. Yea, though I walk farther through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall not fear death. For my God is a sooper benevolent God, and the only one who could ever teach me was the son of a preacher man.
Faryl: ok thats good
Erin: All done now?
Faryl: yes you are forgiven
Erin: Praise Von Baby Jesus!
Faryl: Now for the rehab
Erin: I said no, no, no.
Faryl: haha oh god
Erin: Not even He can help us now, my friend.
Faryl: no, no he can't
Erin: That's because He's jealous of how endlessly awesome we are.
Faryl: Oh Von Baby Jesus. Jealousy is the devil's tool
Erin: Hallelujah!
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