— Got together with my friend Jen the other night. It’s been a while. There was so much to catch up on. I miss her! Of course I had to fill her in on Supernatural (which she has never seen), and at one point I said, in a determined tone, “I’m gonna start doing re-caps.” There was a pause and then Jen said, “The way you just said that made it sound like you were saying, ‘I’m gonna free those people.'” We laughed until we cried and I am still laughing.
— One good byproduct of going through two crack-ups in four years is that it burns away that which is inessential, unimportant. If you survive it, that is. Unfortunately, good stuff can be burned up too, which is what happened in 2009. In a way (and I didn’t at all see it at the time), the script I wrote is about what it is like when everything good gets burned away. I had no idea that that’s what I was doing, I was just writing a love story, and it was a fun creative escape. But I can see all sorts of shit in there now that I wasn’t going for consciously. But I’m getting stronger now. And the “good stuff” in my past is slowly being restored to me, and it looks different, better. It burned up in the maelstrom of 2009 but turns out it can rise from the ashes, like the phoenix, like the phoenix tattooed on my back. In the maelstrom it seemed that my whole history with men is that I have been used, mistreated, taken advantage of, and pushed around. There certainly has been some of that. But there were two meaningful exceptions, and I tried to kill them off too in 2009 but it didn’t “take”. They just wouldn’t be painted with the same brush, and believe me, I was throwing paint at the both of them (metaphorically, for you literal types out there), but it didn’t work. There was Michael. There was M. I’ve written before here about them both (and here at Roger Ebert: it was writing that piece that made me start thinking about all of this more). They are the only ones who let me freakin’ BE (and that includes during arguments, they never treated me with contempt or shut me out, even when they were yelling about something I did that annoyed them) and never hurt me (on purpose, I mean). They are still out there, and when they think of me, they think nice things. This matters. This makes everything look different. Michael was kind (albeit hotheaded and in-my-face about how it drove him out of his MIND that I looked both ways before crossing a clearly empty street: he would literally yell at me from across the street about my bullshit caution and how it was holding me back in my life. My response would be something measured and mature like, “Jesus CHRIST, Michael, shut the fuck UP.” He wasn’t the only hothead in town. Then we would go out for breakfast and talk about movies. We didn’t hold grudges. It was awesome.) M. was kind too (albeit insane and cranky-tough with dangling cigarette, beat-up car and drunken shenanigans involving dignified scenes of me struggling with him for his car keys in a snow bank). Both men were there for me, even when I was weak or scared or shut them out (I am a handful and skittish as hell. At the first sign of trouble, I am GONE and you can’t even get me on the phone. Nobody ever said PTSD was charming.) But they hung in there with me, waited it out, didn’t take it personally, and kept coming around, so that I could see that they were on the level. That’s what it took to be with me, and I guess they thought it was worth it. I sure as hell couldn’t have done it. But I was there for them, too. Once I trust, it would take a grenade blast to make me be disloyal or betray that trust. I treat love like war. If you’re “on my side”, I’ve got your back for all time, I’ll take a bullet for you, and I’ll wait out YOUR bullshit until you get to the other side, because that’s what it means to be loyal. In a way, I would say that M. knows me better than anyone else in the world. Seriously. That’s intimacy. And he was worthy of that trust, lunatic-chain-smoking-pool-shark-cranky-pants though he was. And somehow, whatever went on with those two guys, the relationships we had, a small SPACE was carved out for me where I could actually fucking BREATHE, and in that space tenderness was possible. It’s a fucking cold world out there and I’ve been treated pretty rough. Not a lot of tenderness. That’s why that Otis Redding song makes me cry every time I hear it. But I do have memories of tenderness with those guys, and those guys alone, and when we have any interaction now (and we do have some, in emails, and FB), that tenderness is still there. They remember nice things about me. They look back on their time with me with fondness and humor. AND they don’t judge me or shut me out for feeling the same way. They know what it means. So I guess I’m saying I feel lucky, because some people don’t even have THAT. It’s taken me four years of a tyrannical scorched-earth-policy towards my own past to even begin to figure this out. Probably none of it makes much sense anyway. How’s that for burying the lede.
— I am currently reading Mark Twain’s gigantic essay about Shakespeare and it is making me cry with laughter. My favorite line so far is: “Maybe he did do all of those things, but who would hold the horses during that time?” Can’t stop laughing.
— I’ve been feeling a bit of that old wanderlust again, although that might have something to do with cabin fever due to the hellish weather we’ve been having. But from 2010 to 2012 I took a lot of trips by myself, even just weekend trips, and it’s something I love to do. Ebert Fest is coming up (well, sort of), and I am looking forward to it.
— Somehow, without even really trying, I’ve lost 25 pounds. Well, that’s not true. I have tried. I cut out sugar, all alcohol, and I started running again. But it’s been about health, as opposed to losing weight and body insecurity so it doesn’t feel the same as the “trying” in the past. It started because my doctors put the fear of God in me, but I used to be a runner, I used to run races on the weekends, and have missed it, and it didn’t take long for me to get back in the groove with it. And yeah, losing 25 pounds in the process does not suck. I have more to lose, but it’s good to see results.
— It’s someone’s birthday tomorrow.
Dude, maybe you want to have that veritable BOIL on your wrist looked at. But no worries, I know you’re busy. And I’m sure the girls don’t care anyway.
Sheila, you have to do re-caps AND save those people!
hahahahahahahahahahahaha
I am working on it. My big first post will go up tomorrow probably.
Then into the re-caps. Yay!!!
I’m also so psyched you’re on board and tearing through the show. This is gonna be fun.
How many re-caps a day?
hahahahaha Don’t worry. One a day. No rush.
Just finished Series Two – wow. And yikes. What a finisher. I might watch it over again before devouring Series 3. I watched Series 1 twice, and it was really worth it. But Series 2 is something else again. And all of a sudden my ipod is full of songs off the soundtrack (dude, Boston) – how did that happen?
And on another note, this is the year I will read and watch more Shakespeare.
I know, right? That ending. And the third to last episode is one of the best episodes in the entire series. “What Is and What Should Never Be”. When Dean finds himself in the alternate universe if his mother hadn’t died. That episode kills me – also how even though it’s great to have Mom back, you can tell there are cracks in that alternate universe. It’s not perfect. The way Sam treats him, the way you can tell Dean is the fuck-up of the family – it’s so disturbing. And the scene where he mows the lawn to Joey Ramone singing “What a Wonderful World” brings me to tears.
and just wait – Season 3 gets even more INSANE. Season 4 is killer too. :)
and hahahahaha about Boston.
I am already such a head-banging metal head that the soundtrack to this show completely validates my weirdo Motorhead AC/DC self. It’s hilarious. Ozzy!!
I love the soundtrack to the show. If they use a “pop” song, it’s always ironic – or a clue that something is not right.
and – about that episode I mentioned: JA’s brilliance is so on display there. That’s not the Dean we see in the rest of the series. He is open, like a little boy – his face – the way he leans into his mother’s kiss – it’s incredible acting from him.
Funny Dean didn’t wish for an alternative career as a PA, as he is such a good one.
Question: why is series 3 shorter than the first two?
Oh my God, him as a PA. Some of my favorite JA schtick. “Copy that.” Yelling, “CUT.” So so funny.
AND: the next episode is when they go to prison – and Dean totally fits in there too and becomes Cock of the Walk in a DAY. “yeah, I heard it in the yard …”
He is so adaptable – such a great character thing. Almost sociopathic, but it’s really just a matter of survival.
“Copy that.” And how he knows everyone’s names, and everyone’s little romances … Sam is like, “Dean, you realize we don’t actually work here.” Hilarious.
Hmm, I’m not sure why. And now the seasons are, like, twice as long – 21 episodes or something like that.
Was series 3 when the writers strike happened? I think that’s the correct years..
rae – oh yeah, that’s right.
//The way Sam treats him, the way you can tell Dean is the fuck-up of the family – it’s so disturbing. //
God, yes. Maybe that uncontainable and wild bit of his personality is not the product of circumstances, but actual character. Though he has his hot nurse girlfriend, who seems a mensch and on his side. Still picks good girls in a crappy alternative reality.
I also noticed Sam talks about an octave higher in that episode.
and takes a baseball bat to the fight – whereas in the pilot, Sam is all ninja with his fists.
You do NOT like Sam in that episode – but if you imagine Dean being this problematic older brother who steals money from him and acts out – you can see why he would keep his distance.
I liked that the episode wasn’t treacly – like: ‘well, yes, all this bad stuff happened, but Hunting allows you to be who you really are, let’s have a hug.” There is some truth to that, but boy does Dean want to stay in that alternate reality. The way he kisses the girlfriend goodbye in the warehouse. It’s tragic.
and Dean crying at the grave of his dad – it was done in one take – that’s maybe the second take. He nailed it. He’s so FLUID with his emotions, such a good actor.
//The way Sam treats him, the way you can tell Dean is the fuck-up of the family – it’s so disturbing. //
Or maybe I get it now, that old self esteem at work – in every world he could be in he can only imagine himself a fuck-up.
Right – and he has the comfort of a girl who knows he needs a cheeseburger after that fancy dinner, and his mom still around … but he doesn’t have a relationship with Sam. It’s such a bummer to him.
This goes back to what I wrote in that huge post that started it all. How Dean feels too dirty to ever be clean. He had no childhood. I’m convinced he had sex for cash on occasion to make money during the lean years when his dad was off hunting, and he was on his own. JA has suggested as much in some of his comments at cons and interviews. It’s not explicit in the script but I think JA is playing it anyway. The guy has done stuff that makes him feel dirty to his cells. So even in an alternate universe, that dirt would still have to be there somehow!
It’s such a great character.
How about the episode where we see Dean through Sam’s eyes, macking on the floozy girl at the bar, and we see Sam through Dean’s eyes – and Jared Padalecki actually says, “I don’t have time for your blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.” Like, that’s what Sam sounds like to Dean.
Roaring.
Sugar is evil. It takes a lot of thought and discipline to eliminate it from your diet. Congrats on the weight loss.
Thanks!! I still mess up from time to time, but basically it’s gone from my diet. It’s done wonders for my mood and my sleep too – which was really why I did it. So the weight basically falling off of me was a cool bonus.
Just thought I’d mention that Neil Young name dropped his buddy Dean Stockwell on stage last night at Carnegie Hall. It was in reference to the “After the Gold Rush” movie that Dean & co. wrote which never took off. However, the songs Neil wrote for it found a home, as we know.
Nice!
A few people applauded at his name (and Russ Tamblyn’s). Too bad you weren’t there to give a really good yell for Dean.