Volunteers of America

I've had a strange week. Yesterday I went to the Bodies Revealed exhibit, currently making its home in the least cultural district of Sacramento, Alta Arden. I was intrigued at the thought of going to see a bunch of dead bodies and body parts, especially after finishing a book like "American Psycho," not that the book is for lack of graphic visuals. However, I have to admit, when my step mother was raving about how great the exhibit was years back, I found myself leaning more to the, "that's disgusting" and "how creepy" side. But this time I swallowed my grade schooler reaction and decided to go with a scientific eye. I can't say that I flipped out over spleens and nervous system functions on display in the way I did when seeing the Mona Lisa for the first time, but the experience was quite eye opening and, yes, interesting to say the least. However, if you decided to go, my advice is to avoid the embryonic babies in jars area. I know it sounds like a barrel of fun, but it gave me nightmares.

Today I volunteered with my mom at a local Women's Center. We woke up at the butt crack and made our way over there to serve breakfast and spread some holiday cheer. I was a bit nervous at first because the last time I volunteered to serve meals my friend got a stale loaf of bread chucked at her head by an unsatisfied costumer. After my friend fell to the floor the homeless woman exclaimed for all to hear, "Whoops, my hand slipped." That memory has stuck with me, but I found the women and children today to be friendly and easy going. I even got hit on once which served to provide plenty of laughter for my mother who was so tired she even slipped a double chocolate chip muffin onto her own plate when no one was looking. Nothing like a dose of sugar to keep you alert. Just ask the addicts who I watched dump a pound of sugar on everything, from a hot cup of coffee to a bowl of salad. Apparently, it helps calm their addictions by trading one vice for another: drug addiction for diabetes.

The women were very ethnically diverse but I did notice that the various nationalities separated into different tables. The kids, however, played games together and no one was want for good company or second helpings. What I missed though was the type of closeness you get from smaller deeds, like the year I volunteered for Meals on Wheels. I knew every person inside the houses I delivered to. That Christmas I received a handmade, woven Kleenex box holder with snowmen on it from one of the elderly ladies who was also a Holocaust survivor. She was the funniest old lady I've ever had the pleasure to hang with, and no one could put together a 500 piece puzzle as fast as she could. She was like the Bobby Fischer of puzzle putter togetherers. Oh well, the experience was definitely something I needed and have been missing out on in my life of networking and schmoozing and worrying about whether or not I'll be able to get in a certain club or what the hell I'm going to wear on my date with the latest and not so greatest future ex-boyfriend and/or stalker. So if anyone is up for some more volunteering (as long as it doesn't involve reading L. Ron Hubbard books to underprivileged children in the ghetto - true story) then call me up, and let's do some good deeds together. Hell, what else you got to do until this writers' strike is over besides drinking wine and watching re-runs of "Gossip Girl"?

Say Cheese

I recently went to Disneyland with my mom, and she reminded me of the following story. When I was 4, after a fruitful trip to the happiest place on Earth, I told her that I had every intention of marrying Mickey Mouse so that I could live happily ever after in Disneyland. Cute sentiment, right? Thinking about this, I came to the realization that that moment may be the only time in my life that I've ever thought of marriage in a positive light, as something that may actually have benefits to it. No kidding. So while in Toontown this last Monday I dragged my mom over to Mickey's house to try to relive this old nostalgia for one of America's dying institutions. As I walked through his quaint, brightly painted cottage with overstuffed plastic furniture I thought to myself, hell, maybe I could do this. The Mouse has money, his own place with no roomates and he could probably hook me up with the screenwriting internship at Disney that I applied for last summer...

However, as we walked over to Splash Mountain to cram in a log with strangers and get our butts wet, the old Blackheart sensibility started to rear its lovely head. First off, how could I possibly share an oversized, yellow blow-up bed with a Giant Mouse? Christ, what would our kids look like? I'm aiming for Brangelina type offspring, if any at all, not the Elephant Man. Secondly, his on again, off again ex girlfriend Minnie would be living next door, and the bitch won't even give up his last name let alone his precious free time. Also, I've seen her kitchen, and the girl can cook. I can barely make toast. Plus, I'm lactose intolerant, and they'd always have a love of cheese in common. Lastly, having a workaholic husband who spends more time with his friends (i.e. Goofy and Donald Duck) and on the soundstage than with me, just doesn't appeal to me. I need some comfort and love, damnit, if I'm going to make the effort to walk down the cartoon aisle. And Disneyland is filled with kids and obese Americans at all times, which quite frankly, is not my ideal living environment. I'd rather live on Wisteria Lane with those Desperate Housewife skitches (translation=skinny bitches.)

So, folks, despite my youthful desire to fall in love and marry my childhood hero, my adult self just can't follow suit. Maybe someday I'll find my Prince (barf) and make my own happiest place on Earth (barf, again), but until then, this Blackheart will keep sifting through the Plotus of the world and playing fetch.

Top 10 China Highlights

1.) Climbing the Great Wall of China. Absolutely amazing. We took the harder, more scenic route, and I worked up a sweat despite the 40 degree weather. There was a huge group of people from India all wearing matching Burberry jackets, and one couple demanded we visit their country next, so who am I to disagree? Anyone down to climb the Himalayas with me?
2.) Boat ride down the Suzhou canals. My favorite vignette from the 300 year old stone houses along the embankments was: a house with a fat orange cat watching us float by, next to a house with a bird cage with 3 multi-colored birds hanging from an open window, next to a house with chickens in the backyard pecking at the ground. Every Suzhou resident would smile and wave at us as we passed. A "Ni hao," a nod and a wave, and we were on to the next idyllic scene.
3.) Summer Palace. Loved walking along the lake down the Empress' endless, painted wooden promenade which she had built so she could wander her grounds without ever being in the sun or rain. A major diva of Mariah Carey proportions. But she deserved it seeing as she only got to get it on with the Emperor 2 times a year in between his hundreds of concubines.
4.) Walk through the Ming Tombs down the Sacred Way. Through the long, broad expanse of willow trees, we waved to the many stone statues of Chinese officials and mythological animals guarding the dead rulers while enjoying the faint sound of music and the leaves rustling in the wind. Fyi, they filmed "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" there.
5.) Last night out in Shanghai which included attending the Chinese MTV Music Awards where we had no idea what they were saying but loved the hip-hop dancers and cheesy love ballads that caused the teeny boppers in the audience to cry out God only knows what. Then it was off to Babyface, a locals hangout where we met a group of Australians who shared their Chivas and green tea with us. Danced all night and got a ride home in style in one of our new friend's private town car.
6.) Eating sauteed tofu and quail's eggs in Chinatown (Shanghai) with toothpicks. We bought it from a vendor out of a giant hot pot in the window after roaming the gardens there. Then we gorged ourselves on mochi. My mom bought a sampler pack. My fave? The red bean and the black sesame. Too bad mom ate the entire pack in 2 days or I would have brought some back to share.
7.) Terracotta Soldiers. It's all about pit #1, baby, with thousands of soldiers and their horses lined in row upon row, guarding Emperor Qing's tomb. There are still twice as many waiting to be unearthed but because the oxygen destroys the clay the government is leaving them buried for future generations to enjoy.
8.) 8 motorcycles driving in circles, upside down and sideways, inside a giant steel cage at the acrobatic show. If they bring this shit to the States it's bound to make some major Yuan. I nearly pissed my pants.
9.) The Birds' Nest and the Water Cube, a.ka. the site of the Beijing Olympics August 8th, 2008.
10.) Tiananmen Square. Owen, our ultra-hot 28 year old tour guide who rocked Prada glasses and used to play in a dance metal band, told us that once outside of the tour bus he couldn't discuss the events of 1989 since China was full of government spies who would arrest you for talking against Mao and the government, despite the fact that the guy has been dead since 1976. We were also warned not to take pictures of anyone wearing t-shirts with political slogans or holding banners because the spies and/or guards would confiscate our cameras. On one side of the square was the past, Mao's larger than life picture, still looming over this communist country and its people, and on the other side was the future, a giant clock counting down the minutes and seconds leading to the 2008 Olympics and their capitalist fate.
**Last final small world note: We saw Paris Hilton at club Attica the night before the MTV Awards in Shanghai. As she posed for the club goers and their camera phones, mere feet away from us, I wondered for a second if we hadn't magically beamed back to some lame Hollywood club where the little people take second string to celebrities. But then as I watched her peer at the crowd from behind red ropes, not a sole with her except for some men in suits and whoever was on the other end of her blackberry (a.k.a. security blanket,) I couldn't help but feel sorry for the little princess, all alone in Shanghai, when I had 3 of the best girls in the world with me to enjoy the music, free drinks and fun.

Road to China

Tomorrow is the big day. I'm finally taking that leap into another continent. I'm all packed and am currently awaiting friends who are coming over for a dinner party/let's drink lots of wine and throw everything in the wok and eat too much shindig. You know you have great friends when they throw a farewell bash for a 10 day vacation.

I have a few worries that I'm trying to keep under control, most being of the can-a-vegetarian-eat-in-China-the-land-of-skinned-rabbits-and-ducks-hanging-from-storefront-windows variety. Food is very important to me. If God told me I could either never have babies or lose my taste buds, I'd rescue the buds in a blink of an eye. Other worries include a lack of adapter for my ipod, whether or not they'll allow fruit into the Beijing airport if it's of the dried variety and whether or not this tour company is secretly run by the Scientologists or any other freaky sect/cult that will lead us down a dark alley, steal our Yuan, beat us senseless and leave us for dead, rickshaws unknowingly criss-crossing our bodies in the early morning, Shanghai traffic. Ya know, the small things. So in reality, there's really not much to concern myself with other than making sure I have lots of fun and try not to fight with my mother. The latter will be aided greatly by her supply of restless leg medication (i.e. the one-two sucker punch, lights out wonder pills).

Also, I'm bringing a friend's copy of American Psycho, which I feel will not only entertain, albeit shock, me but will also ward off any lame-ass American tourists that may try to make conversation with me on the bus. You know the type, spouting out diet restrictions as they float on their insoled sneakers... oh wait, that's me. Crap. Oh well, bringing Ellis with me anywho.

Alright, first guest has arrived. Time to discuss the WGA Writers' Strike over a bottle of schwag vino. China pictures to follow. Perhaps I'll even sneak some of the new Olympic site and beat that damn Ann Curry to it. Today Show sucka!

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

Not to sound cliche, what with a nickname like Blackheart, but I'm feeling a bit down today. Not the sort of down that makes you stay indoors with the blinds drawn watching 90210 reruns and eating candy corns mixed with honey coated peanuts (no kidding, it tastes like a Payday.) No, it's the sort of down that comes with the end of a long hiatus, in this case, my month long hibernation in Castle Rock, CO. I've become joyously used to long breakfasts over the paper (Denver news, in comparison to LA's, contains such happy problems), watching the Rockies kick ass as Grandma hoots and hollers then takes naps during commercials (don't know how she does it), going to the movies twice a week, writing when I want to and reading a book in the sun when I don't, watching crap TV and not feeling the least bit guilty and working out everyday even though my lungs feel like they're bleeding having never gotten used to this god forsaken altitude. I have loved every second of it, and now, with reality breathing down my neck I feel disappointed. Maybe I should have gotten more done while I was here, or on the flip side, maybe I should have spent more quality time with grandma and less time staring at the computer screen. I suppose I have to resign myself to the fact that I had fun here, that I was able to, for the first time in a very long time, relax and take a well deserved breather from the Merry Go Round that is life after college, that is the working world. And I can't say I miss it or that I'll be anxious to jump back in. I suppose the only way out would be for me to marry rich and spend my days sunbathing in my professionally landscaped backyard until my personal trainer and/or professional cook stops by to whip me into shape. Ahhh, the good life. But, unfortunately, that ain't me either. I'm cursed with the need to be busy, to have some sort of function in this world and to make some use of the skills I was given. So damnit, here I go, back into the wonderfully harsh realities of LA and up to my neck in the thick of it. Bon voyage, Denver. Hola, Los Angeles.