Religulous Preaches to the Choir

Bill Maher, you disappoint me. I watched you on The Daily Show and The Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson, promoting your movie Religulous as an intelligent documentary that pokes fun at religion by pointing out how otherwise rational people can believe the irrational stories of The Bible. I consider myself both a person of faith and a person of intelligent thought and logic. I looked forward to seeing how you would challenge people like me to explain their beliefs in a book that says a man lived in the belly of a whale and came out alive. This is not what you did. You did not interview what I, or I believe most, would call "normal" or "intelligent" people. You talked to extremists.

You went to the south and picked out the type of uneducated hicks that makes us intelligent folk cringe. You went to a trucker's chapel and expected truckers to be able to answer complex theological questions. No offense to the truckers, but a group of southern truckers doesn't exactly represent the "normal" church-goers I grew up with in California. You picked extremists knowing they would be easy targets and would make for funny clips in your film. I wouldn't fault you for that if you hadn't promoted your film as thought-provoking and intelligent. It's not. It's comedy. It's quite pathetic, actually.
I know you are an arrogant man, and your arrogance sells your comedy, but you didn't even give these people a chance to talk. You treated them with complete disrespect. You gave some respect to the scientist who believes in The Bible, but still, if you actually let him explain his beliefs, you didn't show that part in your film. The rich, bling-wearing minister who used to be in 1970’s soul group is not a "normal" person. How many "normal" people have had a chart-topping song? The man who claims to be the second-coming of Christ and the people at Holy Land Experience are good for a laugh, but their ignorance is not going to open anyone's mind.

Why didn't you interview the ministers with doctorates not only in theology but also in subjects like philosophy and history? Why didn't you interview the young 20something who grew up in the church, graduated college, and is able to balance her beliefs in an unseen God with her beliefs in tested science? Most of us aren't talking in tongues every Sunday at church. Some of us believe the stories in The Bible happened as written, and some of us believe they were written to exemplify morals. But did you talk to us and ask us to explain why we believe in Jesus as savior, but don't necessary believe the stories in The Bible are meant to be taken literally? No, Mr. Maher, you did not.

What bothers me most about your film is your hypocrisy. I've watched you for years and you claim you "don't know" what the truth is, and you're not an atheist because you don't want to be as self-righteous as the religious folks who claim to know "for sure" that their beliefs are true. Yet, you sure don't act like an agnostic. If you "don't know" how can you then claim the Christians, the Mormons, the Scientologists, the Jews, and the Muslims are wrong? 

You conclude your film by pointing how these religions are completely detached from intelligent thought and rational thinking, so they should be laughed at. You in fact, ARE saying "you know." You may not have the full answer, but you're full of yourself enough to claim you know what isn't the answer. Isn't that just as bad as the Christian or Muslim who believes they know all other faiths are wrong? It is. It's the same thing. And by the way, most of us Christians don't believe we're the only ones who are right. 

My old minister had a saying, "I believe our way is the way, but it may not be the only way." This minister from middle-town America was open-minded enough to believe in something while not excluding the validity of the beliefs of others. Maybe if you could deflate that big head of yours, you could do the same.

Maintenance Update

As my loyal readers will have noticed, I haven't been blogging recently. This is due in large part to lack of Internet. In order to save money and cut ties with the evil Comcast, my husband and I canceled our Internet and have been running into roadblocks trying to find a replacement. My Internet use has been limited when we travel to our parents' houses so that I can pay bills, check my email and publish articles for my new job at Examiner.com. My husband uses this time to search for a new job as he is one of the millions whose place of employment has closed down under the weight of the failing economy. Blogging has had to take a backseat to the more pressing issues.

I would like to direct any and all readers to check out my Examiner page where I will be posting around four times a week as the Sacramento Rock Music Examiner. Tell your friends, your family, and the stranger you met with Internet access.

I would also like to encourage everyone to support this site by visiting my Google sponsors and my Amazon store linked on the sidebar where you can buy the movies or books I blog about so that I can receive a small portion of the sales. Every little bit helps, and trust me when I say, I need it.

Below is a fresh new blog post! Happy reading!

The Thrill of Thrifting

Thrifting:
refers to the act of shopping at a thrift store, flea market, garage sale, or a shop of a charitable organization, usually with the intent of finding interesting items at a cheap price. -Wikipedia.org

Thrifting is like searching for buried treasure. The thrill is in the hunt and the surprises you find along the way. I usually thrift with a specific goal in mind, but it's also fun to thrift for the sake of thrifting. I first got into thrifting with my best friend Nicki when we were around 14 years old. Sometimes our good friend Patrick would join us in the hunt for cheap, cheap treasure. Patrick is no longer with us, but thrifting with him is one of my favorite memories.

Because of the special hunt that comes with thrifting, the things I've collected from thrift stores tend to hold special meaning for me. There's the vinyl copy of London Calling I found at the back of a used hippie store in Old Roseville (the only part of Roseville I find remotely tolerable). It was the first Clash album I ever bought, and there's something special about hearing The Clash in its original raw and pure form. Then there's my collection of bendy fabric flowers. My husband found these flowers in various colors on our first thrifting adventure very early into our relationship and bought them for me as the first flowers of any type he ever bought a girl (and that's not for lack of girls). Throughout the years, my collection has grown as my husband continues to find the flowers at thrift stores. I even have flowers four feet tall!

My husband and I braved the cold, wind and rain on Sunday for a trip down the thrift-strip of Fair Oaks and Manzanita. The thrift stores in Carmichael are great because a lot of really rich people live in the area and donate their clothing, but the stores keep the prices low to serve the varied community. You can usually find the same high-end designer jeans at Thrift Town that you'll find at that overpriced trendy used clothing shop.

I entered through Thrift Town's doors and wiped my feet on the soaked mat with one very specific goal: to find a black jean jacket to replace my beloved one that mysteriously disappeared. My 25th birthday is just around the corner, and that's what I really wanted. After coming up empty-handed at Country Club Mall on Friday, Thrift Town was the next logical step.

I weaved my way through the crowded aisles and headed straight to the wall of women's jackets. I reached my destination and there it was: a black jean jacket appearing to be my size, just waiting for me at the end of the rack. Not only did the tag confirm it was my size, but it was a pink tag, and pink tags were half off for the day. I tried it on and stared at myself in the worn mirror. It wasn't as stylish and not quite as perfect as my first jean jacket had been, but it was in like-new condition, cost just $2 and was very close to what I had envisioned.


I held onto the jacket and searched the racks some more, just in case my original jacket had somehow gone through a vortex and ended up at Thrift Town. I didn't find my old jacket or its doppelganger, but I did find another little black jacket that I had to try on it.

This jacket was lightweight, a crisper black and very stylish, although made out of a polyester blazer-like material. It was only $4. I took both home as early birthday presents and couldn't be happier about my good fortune.

I did have one smaller goal in mind when shopping: finding a sexy formal dress for my "forever young" birthday party where everyone dresses up as what as children they wished to be when they grew up. I had many lofty goals as a child, and the job I chose to dress up for involves such a dress.

I found the perfect dress after sifting through a long, color-coded rack at the Goodwill on Manzanita. When I came across this very formal, backless, slinky, satiny black number with rhinestones filling in the naked space between the breasts, my husband and I thought it would be too big, but I had to try it on just the same.

At first my upper half drowned in the dress, but then I realized that unless the dress had been designed for Anna Nicole, it was missing a clasp to pull in the breast of the dress. Once I held the straps in their proper place, the dress hugged my curves like it was meant to, and the dress fell to the perfect spot resting on my feet. Admittedly, I don't have the flat tummy a celebrity wearing the dress on the red carpet would have, but the dress made me feel like a star even with the extra pudge, and when I coyly stepped out of the dressing room for my husband to see, his eyes lit up and he broke out into his giant "my wife is hot" grin. The ladies at the cash register oohed and awwed over the dress and told me how stunning I will be in it. I can’t wait to unveil my $5 dress at my party.

Valentine's Day Shows

The following was originally written for a job opportunity and is being reprinted for readers of Resolution Road.

Do you get warm and fuzzy on Valentine's Day? Or do you get cold and bitter over the Hallmark holiday? Either way, Sacramento's got a local music show for you.

For those who want to give cupid the finger, pogo out your angst at the punk rock anti-love fest happening at the Java Lounge Friday the 13th. "Rock n Roll Threeway" bands, The Secretions, Ashtray, and Final Summation unite for this pre-Valentine's Day show, with special guests Smash the Glass. You don't have to be a dateless deviant to enjoy this show, but happy couples might want to watch their backs in the pit. The fun begins at 8 p.m. $5 gets you in.

If you want to spread the love on Valentine's Day, check out the UC Davis Children's Hospital Benefit Show at Club Retro. This show has a little bit for everyone with an eclectic group of artists from the metal-infused sounds of The Grumpy to the female-fronted alternative rock of Larisa Bryski. Man Automatic, Save and Continue, Tyler Weinrich, Steve Mahoney's Posse, For Steven and Fair Game also perform. Show starts early at 6:30 p.m., cost is $8.00.

Looking to combine local music with a romantic evening? Impress your date with fascinating fine art, tasty wine and cheese, live music and a walk underneath the stars at the Second Saturday Art Walk. Best of all, it's free. Live music by You Versus Me, From Soil to Sand, Chelsea Wolfe, and Ayla at the corner of 4th and F Street in West Sacramento. Check out 2nd-sat.com to map your rendezvous with the arts.

Digging Deeper Into Digital TV Delay

Today many Americans are outraged that the U.S. House of Representatives delayed the switch to digital television until June, giving the unprepared 6.5 million households more time make sure their TVs are digital ready. Those upset about the delay think that because televisions stations have been airing commercials about the switch for a year, everyone should be prepared. "You'd have to be living under a rock to have never heard of the switch." Conservatives and liberals alike think that Americans who aren't ready don't understand the concept of personal responsibility. On the surface, this argument could almost tread water until it bumps into a deeper analysis and drowns to the bottom of the ocean like the Titanic.

I knew all about the switch to digital. Like many Americans, I'm sick of the digital transition commercials. Also like many Americans, I had cable. I was covered. Then less than a week ago, I got the nightmare call from my husband: his company would close it doors on March 30th. Insert panic and immediate budget sacrifices. Goodbye cable TV and perfect reception. Hello waiting list for government rebates on converter boxes. My household is hardly the only one having to tighten the budget belt.

The national unemployment rate is at a staggering high and continues to grow. In California, the unemployment rate is 9.3 percent, and the unemployment fund is running dry. More and more businesses close down every day, and those that stay open are laying offing workers to stay afloat. Many workers who have escaped layoffs are likely to see their hours cut, if they haven't already experienced a significantly reduced schedule. I don't have to Google the news to find examples. I see it firsthand with friends and family.

Layoffs in the media industry have been especially tough. I'm no longer surprised when another friend from college gets laid off from the news outlet they worked for. Unemployment must be filled with recent college grads with journalism or communications degrees. My best friend was recently laid off from her job with a local library. She too has a college degree. My stepfather has seen his hours cut with Safeway. He is working part-time probably for the first time in his adult life.

With the economy in such dismal state, many Americans are having to make sacrifices and cut the fat wherever possible. Doesn't it then follow that so many households are unprepared for the switch to digital TV because they were prepared until they found themselves unemployed or underemployed and cable was turned off or canceled? When it comes down to paying the mortgage or paying for cable TV, the decision is not that hard to make. Additionally, the price for cable has recently taken a pretty steep jump. For the last five years, I've always paid $25 to $30 for cable service. The same cable service I was subscribed to for $30 just two months ago has gone up to $57 before tax. Even if my husband wasn't losing his job, paying $27 more for the same service would be more than we could swing. That's an increase of over $300 a year!

I'm sure there are individuals out there who waited until the last minute to sign up for a converter box rebate when they needed one all along. That fraction can be blamed for "lacking personal responsibility." I'm not sticking up for that group. I'm sticking up for the growing number of Americans, including myself, who were prepared until the failing economy hit too close to home and sacrifices had to be made. My thanks to President Obama and the U.S. House of Representatives for understanding our situation.

Competing Resolutions

Resolution Road was not my only new year's resolution. I always make more than one resolution; blogging just happened to be the resolution that I began as soon as the year started. I realize I have been neglecting this blog a bit in favor of another resolution: to lose at least 10 pounds by getting in shape (no fad diets). I procrastinated on this particular resolution because for me it was a very daunting challenge.

I've never had to lose weight before. In fact, I've spent most of my adult life trying to gain weight! At age 18, I was 5 feet, four inches, and probably weighed in at 100 pounds sopping weight. I was just always skinny. It's in my genes. My older brother is a sweater-wearing twig. I was always pretty content with my body, but then my doctors gave me a complex about it because they always suspected I had an eating disorder, which was the furthest thing from the truth. I've always naturally eaten like every doctor will tell you you're supposed to: small, frequent meals. I don't eat a lot at once, but I have to eat all day long because otherwise I get really bad low blood sugar. When I was 18 or 19, I even took a prescribed hormone to help increase my appetite to put on the pounds. I gained weight and also had a pretty strong allergic reaction which included rashes, hot flashes complete with horrible night sweats, and best of all, I skipped a period and had to deal with my mom accusing my virgin-self of being pregnant. That was a lot of fun.

It took moving out of my parent's home for me to gain weight without the help of drugs.

I grew up eating very healthy. My mom made almost everything from scratch, and I ate a home-cooked meal at the dinner table at least six nights a week. My mom covered all the food groups in her dinners, with usually two to three vegetable choices. I didn't even know there were such things as cake mixes until I was a teenager. The only food I was used to eating from a box was my favorite, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

I spent my teenage years in a household of seven, with a very limited food budget. It was always a fight for the last roll at dinner time, and food disappeared out of the cupboard almost as soon as it went in. I never had the option of eating much junk food, and I certainly never had the option to pig out on anything unless I wanted to be the jerk who ate two of something when there was only one of it to go around, and my obese stepbrother was happy to be the selfish jerk.

My eating habits changed at age 20 when I began buying my own groceries for my own apartment. Kraft Mac n Cheese, Pasta Roni, spaghetti with homemade sauce (my specialty), turkey dogs, Top Roman...these were my staples. I also started drinking whole milk instead of 1 percent. It took a little while, but I put on some weight and was happy about it.

When I went on birth control before my wedding, I put on a little more weight. As anyone can tell by my wedding pictures, I was still tiny, just a little more healthy looking. I've switched birth controls a few times, and every time, I've gained more weight. I was perfectly content with these weight gains, and my husband was thrilled that my always big booty had grown even larger, and I had more meat on my bones. It was a bit of a shock when I went from a size 5 to a size 7 pants, but I eventually adjusted and felt "ok" about the change.

This past winter I put on weight I am not ok with. In early fall I began feeling really ill all the time, with my main symptom being that I had even less energy than usual and was sleeping around 14 hours a night, and falling asleep in the middle of the day. I had a number of other symptoms, but the main point is that I couldn't work; I could barely do light housework. Walking from one end of my house to the other was about the most exercise my body got. Eventually, the only pants I owned that fit came with an elastic waistband.

I wanted to begin exercising as soon as the new year began, yet I couldn't find the will-power to start. In addition to being tired all of the time, I am in pain every day of my life. I have a horribly crooked spine that coupled with permanent damage from a car accident, causes horrible back pain. When I go to a new physical therapist, the first thing the therapist says upon examining my spine and feeling the tightness of my back and neck is, "Wow!" I'm also at the beginning of Osteoporosis, even though milk has always been my favorite drink, and while I was never forced to clean my plate, my grampa taught me at an early age to finish my milk. My body is in bad, bad shape. I get winded walking two flights of stairs. My body creaks and cracks all day long. I'm hypermobile, so that adds to the pain and the difficulty in safely exercising because my joints overextend. All of this made it easy for me to procrastinate on my resolution to lose weight.

Things changed at the end of January. First, I used Amazon.com money to order Richard Simmon's Sweatin' to the Oldies. I generally hate working out. The only exercise I like is gymnastics and swimming. I don't have access to a pool, and I'd probably kill myself if I tried to seriously get back into gymnastics. Sweatin' to the oldies seemed the most realistic option.

Second, after talking about it for weeks, my husband and I finally took a walk together around our neighborhood on the last Sunday in January. The very next day while my husband was at work, I took a walk on my own.

These two events led to my new devotion to exercise. My goal is to walk every other day, and on the days I don't walk, I do the exercise video, and everyday I work on looking a little less pregnant by doing sit-ups. So far, I am doing really well with this plan. I am completely surprised and proud that I have an exercise regiment. I even made myself a calender to follow. The Richard Simmons' video is exhausting and I've yet to make it all the way through maintaining the aerobic pace, but I manage to keep moving the entire time, and even being able to do that much shocks me.

I have skipped the video twice in lieu of working out on Wii Fit instead. I don't even own a Wii, but babysitting for family that does has its advantages. I absolutely love Wii Fit and I know if I had one, I would be completely devoted to it, contrary to the article I read today claiming no one sticks with it. (Yes, I thought the article was horribly slanted and poor journalism, but I think that about a lot of Yahoo articles.) I am the most competitive person ever, so exercising for the top score on a video game is ideal for me. I have overextended myself on the Wii and paid for it, but I better know my limits now.

I am very happy that since creating this plan 10 days ago, I have only missed one day of exercise, and that was the day I almost fell down from pain in my lower back. (I have to be more careful with the Wii Fit yoga. Now I think I understand why my rheumatologist didn't want me doing yoga.)

It feels so great to know that I'm actively working to shape up my body instead of just complaining about it. My husband is really proud of me, and that encourages me even more. He just tells me, "You can do side bends or sit-ups, but please don't lose that butt."

Now I need to better balance my resolution to exercise with my resolution to write. My brain and body usually don't really wake up until around the time most people are going to bed, so I generally only have a limited window of when I can "function" and work on my resolutions. As of tomorrow I am canceling cable TV and Internet. I will be signing up for DSL service, but times are tough and cable TV is not a luxury we will be able to afford, especially with my husband's workplace closing in less than two months. Living without cable TV will definitely free up some time I could devote to writing. Hopefully I'll be back on this blog soon, with something the masses might find more interesting. Since this blog is a resolution, I felt it was important to discuss the other resolution that is competing for my free time.

My Hell: Customer Service

Hell is talking to a customer service department over the telephone. I think there are souls burning in Hell, with telephone in hand, trying to get some company to correct their bill or to send someone out to fix their cable. That's what hell would be for me, anyways.

I mean, really, is there anything more frustrating than dealing with customer service over the telephone? It doesn't seem to matter if I'm calling my cable TV and Internet company, Comcast, or if I'm calling Apria, the company my C-PAP machine is through. I even get a headache trying to talk to a real person about a student loan I have through Citibank.

I think cable TV companies like Comcast and Surewest are the worst. I hate them with a burning passion. They hire the most incompetent people I've ever come across.

My husband and I once got Surewest TV and Internet. About 30 minutes after our cable was professionally installed, our cable TV went out. I'm pretty good at hooking up electronics. So being the intelligent, electronic savvy girl I am, the first thing I do is I check to make sure there are no loose cables. I reset the cable box. I even unplug everything and wait for it to reboot. Of course none of these remedies work, so then the dreaded phone call to customer service takes place.

Has anyone ever called tech support and not been put on hold? Surewest takes the cake for wait-time. My husband and I once waited an hour in a half to talk to someone. I wish that was an exaggeration.

What happens after you finally are able to talk to a real person? They are almost always useless. The first thing they ask is, "Are you sure the cable receiver is plugged in?"

Now, I know how customer service generally works. They have a flow chart of questions they have to ask the customer. And I'm sure there are idiots out there who would call customer service when their cable is not even plugged in. But I do not belong in this group of idiots, and it's insulting to be asked these basic questions, especially when it's the third time I've called about the same problem.

After all us non-idiots go through the flowchart of questions and our cable is not fixed, we're usually offered an appointment time that is a four to six hour time block at least a week away, right?

The best part comes after you've made time in your schedule to be home for the four or six hour block of time and the technician never shows. That happened twice with Surewest.

Now, you would think a company would want to rectify their mistakes and offer some sort of compensation for the trouble they've caused? Hahahaha. That's a good one!

I did not have working cable TV with Surewest for over a month. I did have working cable in the bedroom, but not in the living room. From the day we signed up, the cable was out for a month. In this time, we had two no show appointments and two appointments where the guy was able to fix the problem for about 10 minutes, and within 30 minutes of his departure, the cable was again out.

With Surewest, we had a contract, but per the contract, the first 30 days were a trial period, and we were supposed to be able to cancel. We tried to cancel from the start because it was just unacceptable that we did not have cable TV and that every time we called, we were put on hold for average of 45 minutes to one hour. It took battling with Surewest for about two months, including countless hours on the phone and four scheduled home appointments, that Surewest finally let us cancel our cable TV. They would not let us out of our Internet part of the contract, but we were free of their cable non-service.

Next comes the "credits," right? Obviously since we did not have cable TV for over a month, we were not going to pay the bill. We received a bill in the mail with some of the credits posted to our account, but not all that was promised.

I've found that talking to the billing department is just as worse, if not worse, than talking to technical support. I am a pretty even-tempered, reasonable woman. The incompetence of Surewest's billing department had me yelling and shaking on the phone. After arguing with billing support that my bill was still not correct, I literally had to walk the moronic billing support guy through the math, step-by-step, to prove my point that they had not credited my bill properly. He was not able to do the very basic subtraction on his own.

If that's not ridiculous, I don't know what is.

Comcast is just as evil. I've had Comcast many different times. I despise them, but in the past, they were not as bad as Surewest, and their promotional rates can't be beat.

Whenever I've had had Comcast, I've signed up for a package where the cable TV installation is free, and I avoid the Internet set up fee by setting up the Internet myself. Every single time, when the bill comes in the mail, Comcast has charged me the set up fee. I think they do this to everyone in hopes that the customer won't notice or won't fight it. So, this leads to a phone call with the billing department. I can handle that. I've come to expect it when I sign up for Comcast.

When my husband and I moved into our first house in June, we signed up with Comcast for TV and Internet. The Geek-Squad guy came, hooked up the TV and left the modem and self-install kit for me to set up. I set it up like I have many times before. After going through the self-install process, a message on the computer pops up saying there has been an error, and to call 1-800-Comcast. I call. The guy on the phone is actually very nice and knows exactly what the problem is, but he cannot fix it because his tools are down. I understand that. I have to call back the next day. I am able to get this problem fixed, but I still do not have Internet. The guy on the phone has me check everything that I already know to check. Nothing is fixed, so he gives me an appointment for the very next day. Wow! That's good service...except, no one ever shows. No one shows for the next appointment, either.

I could go on and on detailing this horrid saga, but I'll save you the details. Comcast had failed to activate the line for my Internet, and had they had given me a bad coaxial cable. I figured all of this out on my own, but it took over a month from someone to come to my house and fix it.

Then came the battle to receive compensation for our troubles. This part got really bad. We were promised a phone call from a manager, which never happened. My husband was hung up on, not once, but twice. It took my husband contacting Comcast in writing for our bill to be properly credited and to receive an apology for all they put us through, which included shutting off our service twice while we were in dispute over the bill.

The jaw-dropping kicker with Comcast (other than being hung up on) was that we were calling them day and night trying to get our bill fixed before my husband went in for surgery. After his surgery, he wouldn't be able to talk for quite awhile, so we wanted to get it dealt with beforehand. The night before his surgery, our bill still had not been credited. My husband had his surgery, and we didn't bother calling Comcast until he was healed up. You know what the Comcast jerk said to him, "It's been too long since your last complaint. I can't do anything for you." (And then he hung up.)

We will be canceling our service before the end of the month. We signed up with them in June and it took until January for our bill to be properly credited.

But it's not just cable companies that put me through this hell. It's a universal thing in the world of customer service. I just had to write a dispute to a collection's company because Apria sent me to collections 10 days after I made my payment! Oh, Apria, how I loathe thee. Let me count thy ways:

Number One: You sent my monthly bill, which I had no idea existed, to an address I have not lived at for almost five years. You did this for six months, even though I was diligent in making sure the incorrect address was crossed off on my contract and my current address was filled in. I have the copy of my rental agreement proving it.

Number Two: When I finally got a bill in the mail at my residence (after receiving a phone call asking why I hadn't paid my bill), the bill had no explanation of the charges, and it was a rather large sum. You never sent me the original bill; you sent me the bill for the sixth or seventh month, which makes no sense when it's the first bill I've ever seen. Genius.

Number Three: When I contacted the billing department, I was put on hold for so long, that it took me several days to get through to an actual person because I only had so much time after work to sit on the phone.

Number Four: The first three people I talked to had no idea what they were talking about and were totally inept.

Number Five: When I finally talked to someone who could explain some of the charges, and understood my point that I shouldn't be held accountable for the total, especially all at once, since I had no idea I was being charged every month for six months for a product I stopped using within a month, I was told all I needed to do was send in ONE payment to get my account in better standing and avoid being sent to collections. EXCEPT, 10 days after your company received my not one, but two payments, you sent my account to a collection's agency.

And as a bonus, Number Six: You call my phone at all hours, most often in the morning when I'm sleeping, and when I miss the call, you do not leave a message. The only reason I know it's your company calling is that I googled the number and found a message board of people complaining that you are also harassing them.

Oh customer service, how I loathe thee.

My customer service nightmares go on and on. I spend so much of my time sitting on the phone trying to straighten bills out.

Stanford Sleep Disorders Center is another one high on my sh*t list. I never want to go back there, simply for the hell they put me through over billing and their repeated errors.

In brief, when Stanford called me to set up an appointment, they verified my address and insurance information. They had everything correct. When I went in for my appointment, they made a copy of my insurance card.

Fast forward to when I receive my first bill, not at the address they verified they had on file, but at my mother's address. This bill states that the insurance they have on file: California Healthy Families, says I am no longer eligible for benefits. Well, duh, of course I no longer have Healthy Families. That insurance is for low-income families with children. I had that insurance when I was a minor. I was 23 at this time and had private health insurance. They must have lost all of my information, looked me up in "the system," found my old address and my health insurance I had many years ago (as a minor!), and stupidly billed that.

So what's the next step, everybody? Make that dreaded phone call to correct the error. I give my correct address and insurance information, again, and am told they will bill my insurance and I will receive a new bill.

What actually happens? I receive another bill, at my current address, stating I do not have health insurance, my bill is past due, and was in risk of being sent to collections.

I went through this process over and over. After about the fourth or fifth time of being sent a bill stating I did not have insurance and they were going to send me to collections, I sent a very angry letter detailing their incompetence and explaining I was now sending them my insurance information for the fifth time, and then finally they billed my insurance.

Ahhhh! Just reliving those memories makes me want to scream! Who are these people? Where do they come from? How can they be so brainless? How much of my life have I wasted sitting on the phone waiting to talk to these imbeciles?

I'll share one more very brief story.

I had to take out a number of student loans to pay for college. I had my own personal life savings for college, and my mom helped out, but I still had loans. One of my loans is through Citibank.

I set up an account online to repay my Citibank loan. For some reason, the account says my login information is not correct, and my security answers are incorrect, which is quite frankly, impossible, and every time I try to log in, my account is locked and I'm prompted to call a number for help.

Since I opted to pay my bill online, I do not get a paper statement in the mail, and the only way I am able to pay my bill is by paying the minimum balance through the automated phone system. I always pay more than the minimum balance on a bill, even if it's just $5 more, so paying by phone is only used as a last resort.

I call the Citibank student loan number and listen to the menu options, but there is no option to get help with online login information and no option to talk to a live person. I have tried pushing every menu option available in hopes of getting a human being on the other end. I make sure to call during their business hours. I wrote Citibank an email and explained my situation. I explained very clearly that I cannot get a live person on the phone and need to talk to a live person. Their response? They tell me they cannot give me login information through email (I figured that) and they provide me with the same phone number I've been using and instruct me to call that number during business hours.

AHHHHH! It's Hell on earth.

R.I.P. Dear Jacket

This is an ode to my black jean jacket. I have finally accepted that it is gone and never coming back. I know I shouldn't care so much for an item of clothing, but I do.

I love clothes. My husband can't keep his clothes in our bedroom because my clothes take up the whole closet. And that's just shirts, dresses, skirts and pants. I have a five-drawer dresser full of bed shirts, shorts, more skirts, and my delicates. Then there's the hope chest full of pajama bottoms, sweats, and velour pants. Like I said, I love clothes.

I also love shopping. I relish in getting a great deal. I am the best when it comes to buying quality clothes at the most amazing price. I was recently at Gottschalks and picked out some clothes for my mom to buy me for my upcoming 25th birthday. I found the cutest blue and white polka dot sun dress for only $3. Yes, you read right, $3 at a nice department store. It's a true skill I have, this shopping I do.

I can still picture the day I met my jacket. For some time I had coveted a black Dickies jean jacket, but I wasn't willing to shell out $50 for a little jean jacket. I am thrifty to boot.

Then on a sunny May day in 2004, May 30th, to be exact, I went to the Sacramento Jazz Jubilee with my mother and brother. We've been going ever since I was in a stroller. We always enter the festivities through the Downtown Plaza mall. My mom and I often get distracted by the stores, driving my older brother insane. I stopped in at Copeland because I had $21 credit there. As soon as I walked in, I spotted a clearance rack. And there it was, just waiting for me to find: a Fox Racing brand black woman's jean jacket, size small! I tried it on. It was the perfect fit. In 2004, I was the tiniest little thing and this jacket was just made for my petite Audrey Hepburn like silhouette. Even better, it was marked down from $60 to just $30. With my $21 credit, I only had to shell out $9 for the perfect jacket. I was in love. I could care less that it wasn't Dickies brand.

I wore my jacket on so many cool summer nights. I believe I wore it on my first date with my husband that June. I decorated it with my collection of buttons of my favorite bands, movies, and cute quotes like, "Kiss me, I'm straight edge." Sometimes I safety-pinned patches of my favorite bands on the back, like The Clash and Anti-Flag. My little jean jacket was perfect for shows in the winter. I hate having to hold a heavy jacket when I'm trying to enjoy live music, so my lightweight jacket was ideal for the situation. I was wearing my jacket on June 19, 2005, when my husband proposed on the one year anniversary of our first date. A lot of memories are wrapped up in that jacket.

Whenever it came time to wash my jacket, I'd carefully remove all my buttons before tossing the jacket into the washing machine. After the jacket was again clean, I'd sit on the floor, with all my buttons spread out, making sure to put every button back on in its exact place. I am very particular about these things.

Then, I lost track of the jacket. The last I remember of it, I had set it aside to wash. This was at least a year ago. I remember searching for the jacket in the laundry and on top of the dryer in the garage of my duplex where I sometimes set aside clothes I had sorted. I didn't come across it then, but I figured it would show up soon enough. Then I remember starting the search over again this summer. I looked everywhere and it was still nowhere to be found. We moved in June, so I thought for sure it would show up then. It didn't, but I was too busy setting up a new house and working a relatively new job that I didn't have time to spend too much time worrying about this jacket I love. Last night I went in search, once more, of my little black jean jacket, and also my Adeline Records zip up hoodie. I found my sweatshirt, in a place I'd looked at least twice before. But still, no beloved jacket. I went through my husband's clothes, even searching his dirty laundry. I found my blue socks and red socks, but no black jacket.

It's forever lost. Hope is gone. I'm grieving for a jacket. It doesn't matter that I'm more than 20 pounds heavier than when I first bought the jacket and that it probably would no longer fit. I would have kept that jacket forever, for the memories. The pants or the shirts I wore on my first date or the night my husband proposed? Those aren't special. It was all about the jacket: The jacket I wore when the hot Sacramento days turned into the cool nights I spent at the park with my soul mate enjoying the simple thrill of being pushed on a swing while discussing our love for The Ramones.

I smiled so brightly wearing that jacket once I stopped hyperventilating and said, "Yes" to Aaron's marriage proposal.


The jacket was just right for window shopping at the mall with my best friends.



In college, I'd slip on the jacket to walk my dog outside my apartment complex before heading to bed for the night.


I wore that jacket to so many great shows. I specifically remember taking these pictures after Danny Secretion's birthday show in 2006.

Luckily I still have my buttons. I've lost many of them throughout the years, but I don't think there were any buttons on jacket when it disappeared from my life. But tonight I'm mourning for a jacket. At a time when I should be blogging about how inspired I was to see Barack Obama become the 44th president and what I hope to see accomplished in an Obama administration, I'm thinking about a jacket I found in a sports store on the way to the jazz festival.

Wherever you are little jacket, thanks for the memories. We had some good times together. I'll never forget you.

Movie Review: Milk

(The following contains spoilers if you are not familiar with Milk's story.)

Milk is the powerful, moving and real-life story of Harvey Milk's journey to become the first openly gay elected official in politics. Sean Penn plays Harvey Milk, and no surprise here, he immerses himself completely into the role. Penn becomes Milk in physical appearance, voice, mannerisms, and most importantly, in emotion: in the love Milk had for the opera, the pain he felt from losing lovers, the fear from death threats and in the passion Milk had for the gay rights cause.

The film follows Milk's life beginning at age 40 and ending with his brutal assassination eight years later. Harvey Milk tells his story as he sits alone in his kitchen, talking to a tape recorder. He wants his struggles and accomplishments recorded, in the event of his assassination.

Like the film, Milk's life really began at age 40. Before 40, Milk explains to his much younger partner, Scott Smith (James Franco), that he has done nothing of importance with his life.

Once Milk experiences discrimination, sees the negligence and brutality of the police, and tries to run a business in the Castro district of San Francisco, Milk becomes more politically aware. Milk starts his own gay business association, and soon he is a leader in the local gay community. Milk is a friendly, charismatic character with a flare for the dramatic. He can command an audience and make the young, hopelessly lost males fall in love with him. He loves to rescue people, and he loves being in a place of power.

Milk decides gays need one of their own in office, and that he is the person for the job. Milk runs three times for Board of Supervisors before he is finally elected, after a change in district lines. Along the way, Milk transforms from a pot smoking, long-haired hippie to a clean-cut, suit-wearing politician. Milk's boyfriend Scott supports "the movement," but takes issue with "the machine" of politics Milk is so wrapped up in. Milk campaigns and works day and night. The long hours take a toll on Scott, and later the new, and very needy boyfriend, Jack Lira (Diego Luna). The love interests of Milk's life play a key role in his story. He loses too many of them to suicide.

Milk couldn't have gotten elected without the help of a strong campaign team, led by the young, smartalec Cleve Jones, played by Emile Hersh. Hersh, Luna and Franco are all fantastic in their supporting roles.

Once in office, Milk works tirelessly to push through gay rights legislation and to oppose the efforts of the "Save our Children" campaign, which sought to remove all gay teachers and "gay supporters" from schools. Milk wins these battles, but makes an enemy in Board of Supervisors member Dan White played by Josh Brolin. White represents a Catholic, conservative neighborhood, not far from the Castro. White seeks Milk's support on the Board, and when Milk votes against him, White decides Milk is the enemy.

White's character and relationship with Milk are complex. White doesn't understand the homosexual lifestyle, but he doesn't really seem to be against gay rights, either. He would almost be Milk's friend if Milk hadn't voted against him early on. White seems to only vote against Milk for revenge, not on principle. Milk is friendly to White and even seems to have sympathy for the guy. White takes his job very seriously, but he can't make ends meat on it, and he never has the votes of his fellow board members.

White eventually resigns, but then after a suspicious meeting with police, has a change of heart. White is wound up tight and when Mayor Moscone will not give him the job back, he snaps. He sneaks into City Hall through a basement window to bypass the metal detectors. First he kills the mayor, and then sends five bullets into Milk.

The scene of Milk's assassination is heart-wrenching. It doesn't matter that you know it's coming. It hits you hard in the gut because you've spent the last hour in a half getting to know and care about this real-life character.

After Milk and Mayor Moscone are killed, a group of about 30,000 march in the streets. It's an awesome sight to see the streets of San Francisco filled with 30,000 candles in support of a man who stood for hope and civil rights. Words flash on the screen that explain how White claimed he was mentally incapacitated from eating too much junk food, "the Twinkie defense." He is sentenced to five to seven years for brutally killing two elected officials. He is out in five. It was an outrage then and it's an outrage now.

Milk left me both incredibly sad over Milk's death and also incredibly bewildered and enraged over White's fate. Although this film takes place 30 years ago, it is just as relevant today. The film shows how far the gay rights movement has come, but recent elections all over the United States remind us how far it still has to go.

Movie Reviews

The Devil Wears Prada was on TV the other day, so I watched it. I didn't have any expectations for it, and that was best. Ann Hathaway plays Andy, a recent college journalism grad whose looking for her first job. She lands the gig hundreds of girls would kill for, working as the second assistant to the famous Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep), the editor-in-chief of Runway Magazine. Of course Andy is a serious journalist who could care less about fashion and has never even heard of Miranda. Andy gets off to a rough start and sticks out in the sea of Gucci, Prada and Versace like the polyester discount-store sweater on her back. Andy is mostly a fetch-dog for Miranda. All the real responsibilities fall to Emily, the first assistant.

Andy hates her job and especially her boss. She decides to stick with it because if she can survive one year under Miranda's manicured thumb, she can get a writing gig at any magazine. Through all this, Andy has a terrifically supportive, gorgeous boyfriend and a couple friends from college who envy her job. One day Andy realizes she hasn't been giving her all to the job and manages to fit her (gasp!) size six body into some of the zero to four-sized clothing in the Runway closet. Miranda notices the change and Andy receives more responsibility, all because she's traded in the clogs for some heels and a slight hairdo change.

Soon Andy is excelling at her job and becomes Miranda's number one go-to-gal. Back at home, Andy is missing dinners with her friends, and more importantly, neglecting that wonderful boyfriend of hers. Predictably, Andy gets sucked into the fashion world and becomes "one of them." Will Andy stay a Miranda clone or return to her true journalism roots? You'll have to watch to find out, or you could probably just guess and get it right. The story is tied up with a neat little bow, the most fashion-forward bow, of course.

Meryl Streep is her usual excellence in the film. She knows how to play a cold-hearted witch like no other. Ann Hathaway is just OK in my opinion. She makes Andy more clueless and whiny than I thought the part called for. My favorite character was the first assistant played by Emily Blunt. She's been killing herself for Miranda for years in hopes of moving up in the fashion world. She prides herself on starving her already stick-thin figure for Paris Fashion Week, and tries to act like she's cut off from all emotion, but she really puts her whole heart into her job, if only she ever got any credit. She was the only really interesting and funny character as far as I was concerned.

I wouldn't recommend this movie for most. Maybe if you're into high fashion, it's worth a whirl, but the movie just fell flat for me. It was OK for an evening on the couch when nothing else was on, but I definitely wouldn't have made time in my schedule for this film.


I know The Forgotten was a forgettable film for most, but I liked it well-enough for a lazy Saturday afternoon movie in bed. Tilly (Julianne Moore) remembers her son who died in a school bus accident, but as time passes, fewer and fewer people remember his existence. All evidence that he existed seems to have disappeared. Is Tilly crazy or is there something more sinister at play? That's the basic premise. Tilly teams up with the one other parent who remembers his daughter and Tilly's son, and they spend the film looking for their children while trying to escape the grasp of the agents who are following them.

The twist of the film really changes what genre the film belongs in, but I would ruin the film if I revealed this true genre. I was OK with the twist and the stretch of the imagination that comes with it, but I think a lot of viewers would feel cheated by the direction the film abruptly takes. I think the film was supposed to be suspenseful and eerie, but it's pretty light on both accounts. There's nothing extraordinary about the acting or the special effects or the direction of this film. It relies on the mystery of the children to carry it through. I believed from the beginning that Tilly was not crazy and there was a conspiracy involving the bus crash, so I had to watch to discover the truth. If that mystery alone does not intrigue you, this movie is probably not for you.


What She Knew is a Lifetime original movie. My husband and I actually have watched quite a few of these specific made-for-TV movies. The movies usually star pretty well-known, critically acclaimed actors, so they're generally fairly decent, even if the aim of every movie is to make you cry. I don't easily cry at movies, unless they involve animals, so I can watch these Lifetime movies without getting blubbery. I think most women watch them with a box of tissues at hand.

What She Knew stars Amber Tamblin as Stephanie, a 16-year-old who gives birth in a bathroom on a ski trip, leaves the baby in the bathroom stall, goes back on the slopes where she passes out and her secret is revealed. Stephanie claims she didn't know she was pregnant and that the baby was still-born. The air in the baby's lungs tells a different story. Tilda Swinton plays a forensic psychologist, also pregnant, investigating the case for the district attorney through interviews with Stephanie. The interviews are flashbacks beginning with the previous summer when Stephanie conceived and concluding with the birth in the bathroom stall. Timothy Hutton plays the psychologist's husband. These two have problems of their own and the movie follows their story as well.

I think Tamblin is very convincing in her part as a shy, confused teenage girl who may or may not have known she was pregnant. The movie could have become an after school special with a weaker plot and less talented actors, but with this cast and script, it manages to stay out of that cheesy moralistic territory. Piece by piece, the puzzle of the pregnancy and birth are revealed. What did she really know?

I liked the movie up until the very last five minutes. The ending was horribly unsatisfactory for both my husband and myself. I'm not disappointed with what Stephanie knew, just how the film dealt with this knowledge. It felt like the writer didn't know how to end the movie, so the story just ended where the writer blanked on a real conclusion. I hate when movies end so poorly because the ending is what sticks with you. The movie was fine otherwise, but I'll always be hung up on the ending when I think about this film.


I finally saw Milk in the theater, so look for its review in the coming days.

My Battle with the Enemy: Sleep

If you want to stay on my good side, don't ever, and I mean ever, give me advice on how to get a better night's sleep. Well, if you're an actual sleep doctor, then I might listen to you. Otherwise, keep your trap shut.

It has been so many years since I've had a normal night's sleep that I'd have to stop, think really hard, and count on my fingers to figure out just how long it's really been. It's easily been over seven years, and that's with sleeping pills.

I have Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome (DSPS), and I have Sleep Apnea. Most people know what Sleep Apnea is: you stop breathing or take shallow breaths in your sleep. This interrupts your sleep, stops brain activity, causes headaches, and can make you feel sluggish the whole day. A lot of people with Sleep Apnea sleep with a CPAP machine to help them breathe. You wear a mask that blows air into your face so your airway stays open. It's incredibly cumbersome and I was never able to adjust to it. I can't get to sleep as it is, so it was kind of a joke from the beginning that I would ever be able to sleep through the night with a mask on my face.

My Sleep Apnea problem is quite minor compared to my Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome. It almost sounds like something made up, right? Oh, if only it were so.

I don't remember ever sleeping normally. As a child it took me hours to fall asleep. I'd get so scared in the meantime that I'd usually end up running into my mom's room and sleeping with her. Granted, I also suffered from some serious traumas as a child that added to the bumps in the night, but even without having a drive by on my street or a shooting on my school playground (both while I was outside playing), I still would have not have been able to sleep at night.

The mornings have never been my friend. I remember in the first grade my mom would wake me up for school and I'd beg for 30 more minutes. "Mom, I'm finally sleeping! Pleeease!" I'd cry.

My sleep troubles continued throughout elementary school, junior high and high school, but I managed very well. I usually had loads of energy, was involved in after school activities, volunteer work, and an active social life, all while achieving straight As, or darn near close.

My junior year in high school I got Mononucleosis, again. I had already suffered through it in 8th grade. I eventually got over the Mono, but I never really recovered. I was tired all the time. I'd come home from school and take a nap. Then it got to be too much and I couldn't get up for class. I just wanted to sleep all day, but I still couldn't get to bed early at night. It wasn't depression or anything psychological; there was something very wrong with my body.

In addition to not being able to sleep at night, when I did fall asleep, I'd literally wake up on the wrong side of the bed, with the sheets torn off my bed. My mom knew there was something off with my sleep. She bought me deep pocket sheets and we clipped the sheets down to the bottom of the mattress.

Still, no one had believed me when I tried to explain how I watched the clock tick by hour after hour and I couldn't sleep. No one believed me when I said I didn't dream or that I constantly woke up all night. My mom and step father had laughed at me when I told them I only dreamed in the afternoon. "It only seems like that, Laura," they'd tell me.

Then I had the sleep study that changed my life. Or at least, it gave a name to condition I'd been suffering from for so long.

After being hooked up to all sorts of electrodes and being monitored for a night, I was diagnosed with Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome. My circadian rhythm was off, making my body the most alert and awake at night. My sleep study revealed that it took me hours to fall asleep, then I woke up every 30 minutes, until the last couple hours before they woke me in the morning when I was finally able to get some real sleep. When I did finally fall asleep, I flailed around so much that some of the wires came off my head and I had to be woken up to have them reattached. I didn't go into R.E.M. sleep, either. I finally had proof for all I'd been saying.

After I was woken up in the morning from my sleep study, I stayed at the sleep clinic for a nap study where you watch TV or read a book for awhile and then are put back in the exam room to see if you'll fall asleep, and how quickly. I fell asleep every time. My body was exhausted from getting such poor sleep during the night. The nap study is a test for Narcolepsy, which is really nothing like you see on TV or in movies. I wasn't diagnosed with Narcolepsy because it was decided I was probably falling asleep from the lack of sleep the night before, but it was a close call.

The treatment for DSPS was sleeping pills, light therapy and a change of lifestyle referred to as better "sleep hygiene." In the mornings my mom would open my blinds, turn on bright lights and this, in addition to taking Melatonin, was supposed to alter my circadian rhythm and trigger my body to want to wake up in the mornings. I slept right through the blinding light. I wasn't supposed to watch TV, use the computer in my room or do anything in bed but sleep. If I wanted to read at night, I had to go out of my room and sit on the couch. The idea is that the bedroom is only for sleeping. This was a pain in the butt, and it did not work.

The sleeping pills, however, did help. For the first time in my life, I was sleeping through the night. I wasn't really getting to bed any earlier. I still wasn't tired at night. I was still wide-awake at midnight, but I wasn't tossing and turning all night long. It felt like a miracle. I still couldn't get up in the morning. I went to college and had to take all afternoon classes. I could not do mornings. I was still tired, but less than I had been before the pills. The pills were everything to me.

This was before the television was flooded with ads for Lunesta, Ambien and all the other pills. This was before these pills were on the market. I was put on Restoril. I took the highest legal dose. My body became dependent upon these pills. I don't like being dependent upon a pill. I don't even like taking pills. I've tried the Lunestas and Ambiens and so many different pills that I can't keep track. Often sleeping pills have a reverse affect on me. I stay up all night on them and don't fall asleep until after 8 in the morning. Lunesta worked for a while. Then my tolerance to it was too high. I tried switching off between Lunesta and Restoril, but I just stopped sleeping whenever I was on Lunesta. The Restoril started to lose its power over me, but it never stopped helping.

I started Restoril around seven years ago. It doesn't make me tired at night. I can take it at 10 p.m. and not fall asleep until 5 a.m. It does still help me sleep through the night. This is never more apparent than when I am without it.

I think not being able to sleep at night is one of the worst feelings in the world. To spend hours tossing and turning only to drift off for 15 minutes and then to be awoken by the quietest sound is torture. I recently switched from private health coverage to Kaiser. I don't have my first appointment with my new doctor for a couple more days. I am down to one Restoril and I'm saving it for the night before my appointment so I can be coherent enough to tell the doctor of my problems.

Last night I took two Tylenol PMs and a dose of Robitussin PM. (I've had a cough for years now.) I slept for an hour or two before the medicine wore off. Then the struggle to fall back asleep and stay asleep began. I turned from side to side in a relentless effort to get comfortable. I tried breathing techniques. Counting sheep has never helped. I prayed. I begged for sleep. It's not that I wasn't tired. I just couldn't sleep. I almost cried. Five or six hours later, I finally started sleeping. I awoke in the afternoon gasping for breath (the Sleep Apnea) and was just as tired as when I lay down for the night. I dragged myself to the bathroom to relieve my bladder and then had to lie back in bed for another 30 minutes to try and wake up enough so I could pour a bowl of cereal without spilling the milk everywhere.

I have tried every doctor-recommended remedy for sleep. I have even been sent to the Stanford Sleep Clinic, the foremost authority on sleep. No one has been able to cure what ails me. They've just made it more manageable. I don't take morning appointments. I can't take a job that begins before noon; even noon is really pushing it. (My brain doesn't really wake up until around 2 p.m.) I've actually been chosen for a great job, only for the offer to be rescinded when it came time to decide on hours and I couldn't be there at 11 a.m. It took me longer to finish college because I had to be so selective about my schedule. I can't attend church regularly like I would like because someone long ago decided church should begin in the morning.

Anytime someone suggests I take a hot bath before I sleep, have a small snack, do meditation or read a book before I sleep, I smile and say, "I do that almost every night." In my head I scream, "If only that would work! Don't you think I've tried that! Ahhhhh!" Anytime my mom suggests something like forcing myself to get up early one morning so that I'll be tired for the night, I have to bite my tongue, hard, and restrain myself so I don't punch her in the face for suggesting something that I've tried time and time again and which has never worked.

I can get up at 6 in the morning, be tired all day, and then around 10 p.m., my body will wake up and my mind will be the clearest it's been all day. If I've managed to fall asleep early, I will inevitably wake up after a couple hours sleep and not be able to get back to sleep for another six hours.

So don't ever, ever, suggest anything to help my sleep, unless it's the name of a really good Kaiser sleep doctor. I won't yell at you if you do, but you can be sure I will be picturing my fist in your face.

TV, Movies and Books

TV, movies and books. These three things help me pass the time. I've decided to keep a list (on the right side of my blog) of the books I read this year, as well as the movies I see for the first time. In my livejournal, I often comment on the things I've been watching or the books I've been reading, but I decided to add a weekly or bi-weekly review of these things here at Resolution Road.

I generally watch my movies at home via Netflix or on TV. My husband and I also enjoy date nights at the drive-ins, but it's not often we go out to an actual theater. This Christmas we got a handful of movie passes, so I'll get to see more movies on the big screen this year.

Bedtime Stories (on the big screen)

When I first saw a preview for Bedtime Stories while watching The Secret Life of Bees in the theater, I knew I would love this movie. I'm a huge Adam Sandler fan and the combination of one of my favorite actors in a movie where bedtime stories come to life and it rains gumballs, all done with Disney special effects, just seemed like a home run to me. Then, like I often do, I started reading the critic's reviews for the film. They weren't very good. I lowered my expectations for the film, but still knew I wanted to see it on the big screen. I was disappointed with Don't Mess with the Zohan and I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, so I was preparing myself, just in case.

The critics got it wrong with Bedtime Stories. Sure, the plot is tracing-paper thin, but who goes into an Adam Sandler flick expecting a great saga? I don't. Bedtime Stories is laugh-out-loud funny, and the kind of film kids and adults alike can enjoy. The basic premise is that Skeeter, played by Sandler, has been raised in the hotel business and knows everything there is to know about hotels. His problem is that he's a lowly maintenance man and his boss fails to see his potential until one day Skeeter gives the boss some helpful advice, and then Skeeter has a chance to manage a new hotel, but he must compete against the stuck-up, preppy boy who's dating the boss's daughter, a Paris Hilton type.

While Skeeter tries to come up with a great idea for a new hotel, he is stuck watching his niece and nephew while their mom, played by Courtney Cox, tries to find a new job because the school she works at is being shut down. To get the munchkids to bed early, Skeeter tells them bedtime stories, which start coming true. Skeeter tries to manipulate the stories to control the future, but of course, there's always a twist in the real-life version. Keri Russel plays a forgettable role as the kid's "aunt" and eventually, the predictable love interest of Sandler. Russell Brand plays Skeeter's best friend and he's as kooky and funny in this film as he is in Forgetting Sarah Marshall (just on a smaller scale). It's a Disney movie, so you can probably predict the happy ending.

What I liked about this film was that it's funny. It had the whole theater laughing and the special effects are Disney-great. The kids have been raised on wheatgrass and make "Save our School" signs for fun. Uncle Skeeter introduces them into all things junk food and TV with the help of Brand's character. It's very amusing. The two kids are pretty cute, too. The bug-eyed guinea pig aptly named "Bugsy" also adds laughs. There's a giant, gross booger monster and Skeeter loses the ability to talk coherent English. It's silly and childish, but it made me laugh and that's all I wanted from this film. With Bedtime Stories, Sandler proves he can make us laugh without being crass, even in a PG Disney Film.

Rendition (via Netflix at home)

Rendition is the story of an Egyptian-born chemist, Anwar El-Ibrahimi (Omar Metwally), who's on his way home to America, where he's lived since he was 17, but finds himself being flown to some anonymous country to be "interrogated" because he's suspected of being a terrorist who has aided in the making of more sophisticated suicide bombs. This is the practice known as rendition. The United States reserves the right to fly any suspected terrorist anywhere outside the U.S. to keep him or her for interrogation, sidestepping the American judicial process. No Miranda Rights, no lawyer, no phone call, but lots of torture.

Anwar is linked to the terrorist attacks because his cell phone received calls that may or may not have come from a known terrorist. Reese Witherspoon plays the man's wife and mother of his children who is desperately seeking answers as to what's happened to her husband. Jake Gyllenhaal is the straight-laced CIA guy overseeing the interrogation. It's his first torture because the man who was supposed to oversee it was killed by the suicide bomb that Anwar is suspected of helping make. Meryll Streep plays the head of U.S. Intelligence. She's safe in the United States, far away from the actual torture. All she cares about is American safety. She has no sympathy for Anwar or his desperate, and also very pregnant, wife.

This is a movie with a story within a story. The target of the bomb was the powerful Abisi, the man who's in charge of Anwar's torture. Abisi's daughter can't stand living with her family, so she runs away to live with her boyfriend, a militant Islamic, but the daughter doesn't know her boyfriend's militant side or what he plans to do...

The movie follows both stories simultaneously, and also very slowly. The movie can lose you if you're not dedicated to seeing it through to the end. The movie is a bit of a mess at first, but it starts to come together in the middle, and I felt the twist at the end and the conclusion made it worth my time. Rendition will leave you haunted, and it will give you something to talk about.

Television Viewing

I am ashamed to admit I was excited for the return of the horribly cheesy The Secret Life of the American Teenager. I know I should hate this show. It's by the same lady who did 7th Heaven, and it's very much in the same vein. It came on during the summer when nothing else was on, and since it was advertised non-stop, I watched the first episode. And then the next...and the next... Some of the acting is way over the top and very bad, but the main character, the pregnant Amy played by Shailene Woodley, is well-acted. Amy gets pregnant her "first time," by the school's playboy, while at band-camp, no less. She hides her pregnancy from everyone and then finally admits it to her friends, but is too scared to tell her parents, including her mother played by 80s brat-pack teen-queen, Molly Ringwald.

Finally the news comes out, and spreads quickly. It's one of those small towns. But Amy has a boyfriend (not the child's father) who loves her and wants to marry her, never mind that they're like 15. Her friends are the school gossips. There's the goody-two shoes Christian girl Grace who is very naive, but has a good heart. Of course there's the "bad girl" Adrian who sleeps around, but is very smart, just has some self-esteem issues, probably because she never had a daddy to love her and her mom acts more like a best friend than a mother. Oh, gosh, it's predictable and ridiculous, and I'm hooked. It returned Monday night with all the main teenage characters getting fake I.D.'s so they could attend Amy's secret wedding to her boyfriend Ben. It was stupid and so far from reality, and I can't wait until next week! Monday nights before Heroes, you know what I'll be watching.

Another one of my guilty pleasure shows has been Rock of Love Charm School where the Bret Michaels rejects get lessons on becoming proper ladies from no other than Sharon Osbourne. The show had it's much buzzed about reunion on Sunday and it was every bit as delicious as I'd hoped. BitchyMcB***B*** Megan is noticeably drunk, says some not-so-nice words about Ozzy to Sharon and all heck breaks loose. Sharon pours a red liquid all over the scantily bikini-clad bimbo, and according to police reports and a hospital photo, also tore out part of the reality-whore's weave and scratched her up. Megan is hauled off stage by security and the Charm School girls gather round Sharon to thank her and applaud her. It was trashy reality show drama at it's best.

Scrubs came back on the air last night on its new network, ABC. It almost seemed like it was trying too hard, but it was still funny. Glad to see it back. Law & Order SVU returned from its brief break with a complex, twisting case of a kidnapped sex slave. Sweet.

Books

I also just finished reading 1984 by George Orwell. I think most people have already read this book, and since this blog is review-heavy already, so I'll just say I enjoyed it, and I could not put the book down once the capture took place.

Marriage, Church and State

"Today in 1893 U.S. President Benjamin Harrison declared full amnesty for Mormon polygamists. Is it the government's place to define which marriages are valid and which are not?" ~ Livejournal.com Writer's Block Prompt

"The right to marry whoever one wishes is an elementary human right compared to which "the right to attend an integrated school, the right to sit where one pleases on a bus, the right to go into any hotel or recreation area or place of amusement, regardless of one's skin or color or race" are minor indeed. Even political rights, like the right to vote, and nearly all other rights enumerated in the Constitution, are secondary to the inalienable human rights to "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" proclaimed in the Declaration of Independence; and to this category the right to home and marriage unquestionably belongs."
~Hannah Arendt [Dissent, Winter 1959]

For legal reasons, it is the government's place to define which marriages are valid and which are not. A marriage is a legal contract between two consenting adults. The legal contract affords rights that are specific to married couples. But for most, the meaning of marriage is far more than a piece of paper signed by the couple, their witnesses and the officiant. Marriage is about love, commitment, and for many people, religious faith.

I only care that the government recognize my marriage for the legal benefits. My husband and I file joint taxes. As his spouse, I am added to my husband's medical insurance. As his wife, I am the beneficiary of his life insurance. If we have a child, we begin with the same equal rights to that child. Just because I gave birth to the child, I do not have any more legal rights to the child than my husband does. He doesn't have to prove he's the father or separately adopt the child. The child is automatically "ours." If my husband is in the hospital, which he has been once since we've been married, all I have to do is say, "I'm his wife" and I can visit him. I'm not asked for proof that I'm his wife. The words, "I'm his wife" come with power. The words, "I'm his girlfriend" or "I'm his life partner" or "I'm his domestic partner" do not have the same authority. The legal contract of a marriage gives me power. It gives our relationship validity and special rights under the law.

As important as the legal rights a marriage affords to me are, that is not why I got married. I married my husband because not only do I love him and feel he has the qualities I seek in a partner, but because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him as his wife. I wanted to live by the teachings of our Christian faith that explain what a marriage should be.

I wanted to put God first in our marriage, always.

I don't believe a couple need get married in a church or by a religious leader for their marriage to have God at the center or to have a religious marriage. God would be just as important in my marriage if I had gotten married in the woods, by a former teacher, just as my best friend and her husband did. Still, I chose to get married in a church.

My husband and I had both always dreamed of getting married in a beautiful church, so we payed through the nose to get married in Pioneer Congregation Church, the very first Christian church built in Sacramento. I had a very religious ceremony. There were prayers, scripture readings and even a blessing.
I was able to get married in a church because I was having a traditional heterosexual wedding. Before we could marry at Pioneer, we had to complete pre-marital counseling, which we were happy to do. The pastor, Reverend Jim Truesdale, warned us from the beginning that if he did not feel we should be getting married, he would refund our money and we would not be married in his church. We were fine with that. We understood that to get married in a church, especially one that we did not attend, we had to follow the church's rules and protocol for a wedding ceremony.

If we were a homosexual couple, I believe the church would have had every right to deny us a wedding in their church. Knowing the "open and affirming" beliefs of the church, I don't think a homosexual couple would be turned away from this more liberal church, but all the same, I believe the church would have the right to do so. A church should have the right to turn away any couple, whether heterosexual or homosexual, if the church feels the couple is in conflict with church's beliefs.

That's why I think there should be two forms of marriage. I believe everyone who wants to be married should have to go through the legal process of signing a contract recognized by the government. I do not believe the government has any right to discriminate based upon sexual orientation. Two consenting homosexual adults should have the same rights under the law as two heterosexual adults.

I believe the religious ceremony and marriage should be separate from the legal marriage. Churches should be able to discriminate freely based upon the beliefs of their faith. The marriage document issued by the church should be separate from the legal document issues by the government. If a couple has a religious wedding ceremony, whether it's Christian, Jewish, or Muslim, isn't their God then the final authority over that couple's union? How can the government recognize that which belongs to religious faith?

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
~U.S. Constitution - Amendment 1

Happy marriages
begin when we marry the ones we love,
and they blossom when we love the ones we marry.
~ Tom Mullen

For two people in a marriage to live together day after day is unquestionably the one miracle the Vatican has overlooked.
~Bill Cosby

*Photography by Avessa Studios