Happy Birthday Matty!

Today would have been my friend Matt's 40 birthday. Matt died right after Thanksgiving last year much to the shock and grief to everyone who knew him. He's been right at the forefront of my mind today and truth be told most days since his death. I didn't know Matt as well as most of his friends knew him. I met him through the Hub-man about 11 years ago. That meeting was brilliant! Tears stream as I think about it but it was the single most memorable meetings I've had in 37 years. Let me tell you about it: My in-laws had Matt and his new wife over for dinner during my first visit to Northeast Ohio. I was terrified since it was also the first time I'd be meeting my new boyfriend's parents and I knew their initial impression of me wasn't all that great. (I may explain the reason for that in another blog). Anyway back to dinner. The MIL (mother in law) had made a beautiful roasted turkey and as we were eating she commented that it tasted 'off' not as good as usual. I thought it was great so I asked why she thought it was so bad. She said "it's a butterball and nothing tastes quite as good as a fresh turkey." "Where to you get a fresh turkey" I asked. The future FIL said "usually the backyard!" I was completely shocked and with full disclosure horrified. As a proud city girl I had never heard of someone actually raising and killing their own turkey. Matt looked over to me and asked "where do you think hamburger comes from?" With out missing a beat and with complete honesty I say "MCDONALDS!" Matt stared at me for a second then got this grin on his face. He reached over and patted my head and said "You're pretty." I laugh and cry every time I think of that story. In one exchange Matt saw me for exactly who I was in that very moment and accepted me for it. Now he was no saint and he made sure I always knew I was the "crazy California girl" but looking back there is something so comforting in knowing that he took me for exactly who I was and didn't expect anything else. Describing Matt in one word is easy. That word is TRUTH! He told the truth to anyone and everyone. Truth that was funny, painful, infuriating, loving, uncomfortable, did I say funny...? At times it made you want to punch him in the face or hug him. Now that he's gone and I'm seeing the comments his friends are making about him it keeps coming back to the fact that Matt told the truth. He would take you for exactly who you are but you had to take him right back. But if you couldn't that was ok too. He'd wait for you and when you came back it was "hey how's it going? Coming to the bonfire at the farm?" Matt I miss you more than words. My brief friendship with you changed me and you death has affected me more deeply than any other to this point. I know you're happy now and at peace so our jobs left back here is to remember you and continue your legacy. Truth.

Are you counting on accountability?

"Hello my name is Amy and I'm a big ol' slacker." Everyone together "HI AMY"

I thought that would feel good getting off my chest but not really. I suppose it's because I'm not a slacker per se but a person who when not provided with boundaries, goals and accountability slips into a life of well...slacking. This realization began about 2 weeks ago when I was distressed for the billionth time that I wasn't losing weight. I mean c'mon I got the freakin' salad at Rumbi's and ma and I split dessert at Yard House. What the heck man I'm doing my part?

*I'm hanging my head in embarrassment* I found out the caloric intake of my salad and my half of dessert but more on that later.

In my distressed state a question occurred to me, what is drives some people? You know the people I'm talking about, the individuals who put in the extra hours at work, not for the cash but because of their commitment or drive for knowledge. They are the same people eating the healthy choice option in a restaurant and sipping a cocktail of soda water and vodka verses the margarita and cheeseburger in front of you and me? I chewed on that question for several days. I wanted that drive again. I wanted to be inspired to be the best physically I can be and attempt some success in a career.

I should qualify this by saying I'm not the girl that hates skinny chicks with the Jolie arms. Well...most of the time I don't. I occasionally want to smack one but the majority of the time I get it. They put the time in gym and said no to the waffle fries. My question is HOW or better yet WHY do they do that?

Last week, the Hubbs and I pondered my question over dinner at Chick Fil A (grilled breast no bun, half an order of the aforementioned waffle fries). Hubbs reminded me that I've spent the last decade of my life examining every issue I could find that was causing me to drive my life into a ditch. I've racked hours in my therapist's office, small groups discussing boundaries and reading books upon books on subjects ranging from co-dependency to safe people to getting finances in order. He laid it on pretty thick and I needed to hear it. He told me that I'm radically different than I was the day he met me 12 years ago so he had no doubt that if I could change as much as I had in that area of my life this new question would be a piece of cake. Yummm...cake. Crap I'm digressing.

His enthusiasm for my accomplishments was nice but it didn't ease my turmoil. That came the next day from an unexpected source, my dad. I know right? I was surprised too. Now don't get me wrong, my dad is a pretty bright guy. If I have questions on finances, building a house or anything to do with vehicles he's my man but the human condition...not really his forte. But as he has said to me on several occasions "even a blind dog can sniff up a bone once in awhile". Anyway, our phone conversation had taken a weird turn and I ended up posing my question to him. After all the stuff I was able to change why can I not overcome this weight and writing discipline issue? He told me three things and all of them were quite brilliant:

#1 - He agreed that I've matured and healed tremendously which is probably due in part from the love of a good man namely Hubbs. However the pain that I was suffering from before helped drive my need for control over my body. It inspired me to stay fit. Now that pain is gone so is the drive. (WHOA! Holy crud that's incredible! Keep digging Dog.)
#2 - Next he's known me for a few years, like almost 36 of them. One thing I was not successful changing is my need for limits and boundaries to stay motivated. I used to hate summer vaca because I just lazed around watching TV. I was bored out of my mind with no real ambition to do anything about it. Without a reason to do something I flat out didn't do it. (Ok hold up now this is getting a little insulting.)
#3 - Lastly it's just laziness. (You understand the therapy now doncha?!) Crap, I hate it when he's right and he may have been a more than a little right on all three points especially #3!.

I know the basic logic of gain and loss. You spend more than you make you go into debt. You eat more calories than you burn you put on weight. Easy peezy we all know that but what changed for me after that marathon conversation with Dad-dog was if I had just read the self help book or just listened to my therapist and never took action it would have been a complete waste of time and resources. So while I knew what it took to finish a script or to get back into my skinny pants I'm wasn’t taking real action. Soooo....
ACTION!
Just before my dad-dog’s words brilliance, my mom called me and asked for my help. She wanted me to join weight watchers with her. I agreed to it mostly out of shock. She's never asked for something like that before and I was curious. She thought if we were in the same boat then we'd support each other and with WW I'd have the limits/boundaries I needed to be successful.

She was as correct as the dad-dog. I was stunned to find out that my Rumbi's salad was 700 calories and my 1/2 of the dessert was another 600!! Knowledge then action. Five days later I'm down a few lbs and feeling so good about it I sat down and *gasp* wrote!!

One last thing before we say adieu. After days of marinating in this new information, I realized that my new found drive came not out of the pain of my past but out of a new healthier relationship with 2 people I may have disregarded before; my parents. Wow. That's pretty awesome to think that after so many years we're back to where we started from. They are my mom and dad and I get to be the kid who still needs their wisdom.

This Kalifornia Gurl says Ciao for Now!

There's an interesting phenomenon in the practice of yoga. As I'm sure you know yoga consists of various poses while centering your energy around your breath. For example you want to wrap your right leg around the left side of your head all the while breathing like you're giving birth to a baby llama. That's just me? Ok... the phenomenon I'm talking about is while in getting into some of these poses you'll find that your body just isn't ready for it. It can be any pose from downward dog to cobra to a headstand.

I have a weak low back that I've been working on strengthening since I sprained it 3 years ago. Cobra has been the pose that I have not been able to do for the past year. Partly because of weak muscles and partly out of fear I'll hurt myself again. About 2 weeks ago while in my Vinyasa yoga class we were put thru a series of poses and in the middle were instructed to go into cobra. Suddenly I was in the pose! I was shocked. It just happened without struggle or pain. I don't recall thinking about it before hand either. Boom! There I was legs pressed into the mat, elbows at my side and pulled back, and heart extended forward. It was an exhilarating moment for me.

A little time after my cobra debut I was talking to an instructor who mentioned how she loves in yoga that the body will tell 'you' when it's ready for a pose. After struggling with something for a period of time it'll just happen with ease. *gasp* I know right?! That just happened to me!! I want to yell. It got me thinking...as does most everything in my life. (My brains hurts sometimes from so much 'thinking'.) Does this yoga phenomenon happen in other areas of our existence?

This past weekend I went to my old stomping ground for a last minute trip with my mom. My Jazzercise mentor's 20th anniversary class was Saturday and a friend suggested I surprise her. It was also Conchita's birthday. In a spur of the moment decision I decided to go and the mom agreed it'd be a fun escape for a few days. Over the course of 4 days the mom was exposed to the 10 years of life and growth I had while living there. She hadn't visited much and by her own admission she didn't really know what my life was like. It wasn't until I got home that I realized that I had walked her thru every major event, job, home, friend and habit I had while living there. By Saturday I was exhausted and somewhat withdrawn. I was confused and a little sad though I knew it wasn't because I missed living there. Conchita pointed out my mood a few times but between the 3 of us we couldn't figure it out the root cause. I finally chalked it up to PMS and exhaustion.

We are back to yoga Monday morning and I'm in my now famous cobra pose. As I'm breathing my llama labor breath a thought presented itself right dead center in my brain; "that period of my life is finished. The decade I spent growing and living in SoCal was what it was exactly what it was supposed to be and its over now and a new time is beginning." Holy crap! I was a stunned as I was when my body decided it liked cobra. It just happened without much consciousness from me. My brain and emotions decided I was done and had the strength to go onto the next 'pose'.

The rest of the day I kept testing myself by reliving memories that usually make me angry or sad and they did neither. It felt more like seeing something behind glass. I know it's there but I can't touch it only admire it through different eyes. I'm sure if I really wanted too I could break the glass and grab it with both hands but I don't think I want to do that right now.

In the past 18 months I've had to say goodbye to alot of things. From people to habits to clothes (see previous blogs). This time I didn't feel the sadness I felt with those other goodbyes. This felt acknowledging and liberating. All of that time is still here with me. It'll be in my writing and in my relationships. But it won't be in a large heavy emotional streamer trunk I'm carrying around everywhere I go. It's now compressed down into an ipod app titled "amy's life". I can tape the app and visit when ever I'd like but it won't launch itself. Well... it might but hopefully not as often as it used too.

So what now you ask? Not a clue. I am learning Italian, working on a script and dressing better. Hmmm...usually I'm dressing better. Full disclosure right now I'm in my fave holey cut off sweat pants and my CSUF alumni T. But HEY, it's just me and you right? I'll change before I run to the mall.

Until we meet again!

We need more Madonna's

I love the show Glee. I was in LA all last week with the Hubb's so I had to watch my recorded episode this afternoon. It was the much talked about MADONNA episode. The entire episode was filled with her songs while plot revolved around the female cast taking back the power of themselves and for the male cast to get it together and respect the girls. It was fab, catch it if you can online. A side note I'm ready for more Madonnas. Lady GaGa is a good start but I'm ready for more female empowerment role models! Anyway back to our story...

I grew up watching Madonna videos, dancing around my room with my cousin and wearing wrists full of rubber bracelets. As an adult I see what she provocative she was and I have to laugh that my parents didn't object to their 10 year old singing "Like a Virgin" or "Papa don't Preach". I was raised by wolves and but that's for another blog.

Thinking about Madonna right now is fitting due to the strange week I had romping around my old 'hood. I spent a lot of time with Chiquita and her squeeze Vesuvius. The main topic of conversations and a big issue in my mind for the past several months was about appearances. Namely the way we dress ourselves. Ugh...who am I kidding it was about how I dress myself. The Hubbs is being promoted faster than I can keep up with and because of his quick rise in the company his appearance is becoming more important. It's a challenge he's well equipped for and between you and me, I think he rather enjoys.

The prepster everyone knows and loves wasn't always so. As a matter of fact when I met Hubbs 11 years ago he had black hair to his waist, a goatee, leather jacket, skin tight jeans, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. I described this vision of bad-ass to my new friend and future cousin-in-law a few weeks back and she laughed out loud. I don't think she believes me. I have to bring pics to the next family gathering.

Several years ago, without me realizing it, Hubbs began a drastic transformation. It began with his teeth and 4 painful years of braces. Then went the hair to a very neat and clipped do. The final piece was the clothes. Gosh so I miss those painted on jeans! *sigh* I digress...

While I miss my bad-boy the truth is he looks fabulous but more importantly he's comfortable in his skin and feels that his look represents who he is. So how does this all relate to me and Madonna? Here my answer, I'm jealous. Madonna was never the prettiest chick singer but damn if she wasn't the most talked about and admired!! She tried every kind of look and seemed to enjoy them all. I believe her popularity is due impart to her confidence and being strong in her own skin. I can't think of a time I've ever been comfortable in my skin or felt my clothes represented me. Its a struggle I've had for 2 decades! Now we're in a position that I need to be a better dressed partner for all the dinners and events that keep popping up. I keep missing the mark and then feel awkward during and after.

After months of analysis and a very truthful (and uncomfortable) conversation with Chiquita, Vesuvius and Hubbs. I think I finally get what my problem is...ready for this? I'm nuts! OK I'm kidding...sort of. I know I'm not a dog. No one is throwing rocks at me (thanks for that line Vesuvius). Its not that I ever felt ugly but I 'bloomed' VERY early. I woke up one day around age 12 with C cup ta-tas. I became very popular at the dances with the boys but less so with the girls...for obvious reasons! I figured out very quickly that the uglier I could make myself the easier it was to get along with other girls in my classes. Gag...it sounds so pathetic typed out! I should have found better friends but I didn't.

I took that twisted mentality thru high school and then onto dating. I dated this one guy that 'preferred' me to look 'casual' . He even went so far as to buy me the ugliest clothes I have ever seen! I had more over sized denim and khaki tan shirts than I'll ever need in one life time! I'll save you all the events between then and now but lets just say that I ended up dressing some very cute girls while my own wardrobe left A LOT to be desired.

Fast forward 2010 and I'm having lunch with my new friend/future cousin-in-law, I'll call her Beane. Beane is beyond fab! She dresses like a star and has the body for it. During our lunch the thought occured to me that she doesn't apologize for who she is (not that she should but you know what I'm sayin) and more importantly she's darn comfortable in her own skin no matter where she is. I was awe struck. I wanted some of that.

I needed an action plan but had no idea where to begin. We've talked about my previous shopping problem so I knew just going out to buy things wasn't the answer but what was? The conclusion I've come too is this: my brain seems to be wired all crazy so I'm going to over-ride the circuit. Every time I begin to feel insecure and dress-down I'm going to do the opposite. I trust Chiquita, Vesuvius and Hubbs when then tell me that I'm not representing myself correctly so in this one case I'm going to substitute their judgment for mine and fake it till I make it.

So if you happen to run into me and I'm wearing my cut off sweat pants and an over sized CSUF t-shirt shake your finger at me and tell me to go home and change~

These are the Good Ol' Dayz

Last night was another reunion of sorts. A fellow NJROTC alumni was back in AZ and a group of us gathered at D&B to see what's been happening to us all. I gotta tell you friend, these events leave me humble, grateful and energized!



You probably need some back story. As you well know, I'm an only child and the only grandchild in my mom's side of the fam for many years. At the end of 8th grade there was a meet and greet with the 3 high schools our Jr high fed into. I was going to go to Apollo. At the Apollo booth there were a few kids dressed in Navy uniforms with a big picture board showing all the different sorts of activities. One photo caught my 13 year old attention. It was one of the military ball. That's all it took. I know...I'm sure I could make up a better reason I joined ROTC but the truth...just wanted to go to the ball.



Now its August before Freshman year and I'm terrified to be in the ROTC room collecting my uniforms. I remember being baffled at why I joined a group that required me to wear a military uniform every Wed to school. That day I met Donald Duck (*remember I change names). Turns out the DD was my very first friend in high school and is STILL one of my very best friends. That same day I also met the son of our Commander and for reasons I'm still not sure of, an antagonistic relationship ensued that lasted all 4 years.



Almost 20 years later and over the course of 6 months I'm reconnecting with so many of these kids. It's been overwhelming to say the least. Several went into the military. Some live out of state, lots of kids, some broken marriages, some successful marriages...alot of life has happened in 20 years yet the same thing happens at every meeting. These people are still the people that I fell in love with Freshman year. Some was romantic love sure but when I say love my meaning is more innocent.



These kids were the highlight of my childhood and still are in my memories. Suddenly I wasn't alone anymore and I had a collection of people that were bonded in the wearing of a military uniform once a week in high school. Now think about that for a moment. In a period of life that could quite possibly be the hardest and the need to fit in at its peak, we were a group of kids that VOLUNTEERED to be in a group that wore uniforms and marched. LOL!! It makes me laugh to think about that.



So last night I got to show the Hubbs who I used to know. The hunk is still the hunk, the tomboy was still the tomboy, the jock was still the sweet guy he always was, and the commander's son...well he's not the antagonistic pain the in butt I thought he was. Truth be told I may have been wrong about him. Let's keep that between us!



I don't know if everyone had the opportunity to go back in time and revisit their past in the way I've been able to do these past 6 months. I can say with conviction and tears that the moment that 13 year old girl saw a picture of the military ball set forth a chain of events that wove together a history and a foundation for my life that stays with me today.

I've got friends in many places

I spent the first three days of this week in La Jolla California. I'll write about my actual trip in my travel blog but this is about WHO I spent those 3 days with and how impactful it turned out to be.

I have a friend we'll call Chiquita. I'll picked that name not only to hide her identity but also because the way I know Chiquita I envision her with a basket of fruit on her head, wearing a wildly colored dance outfit, swinging on a vine watching over the world and all it's weirdness. Chiquita has a very cool beau I'll call Vesuvius. That's a very fitting name for him. He at one time was wild, angry and could erupt taking out villages but 30+ years ago decided he didn't want to be so angry and is now a peaceful giant that's lovely to look at and even better to listen too BUT there's always the underlying caution one must take because he could erupt again if he so chooses. Especially if his Chiquita is in anyway in danger!

I met Chiquita a little more than 5 years ago while taking an exercise class in my former hometown. She is 20 years older than the Punkin and several inches taller. I was intimidated to say the least. For some reason, that is till foreign to me, Chiquita decided that I was someone she wanted to get to know. When I say I have no idea why she picked me, that's not an insecurity issue for me that's the truth. We had nothing in common and alot of the people that I had for friends at that point 'needed' me. Chiquita did not need me to help her life. But with some effort and some very straight forward questions on her part, we became friends. I thank the Big Guy for that after every exchange we have!

The last few years I was in Cali, Chiquita and I saw and/or spoke to each other almost every day. When I found out we were moving I couldn't get the words out of my mouth. Luckily she got the drift of what I was trying to say between tears. She and Vesuvius were the last people Hubbs and spent time with before we left Cali.

Let me back it up a moment and explain how Vesuvius plays into this story. The week before the Hubbs and I made it legal, Chiquita and Vesuvius took us out for dinner. This was the first time Hubbs met Vesuvius and it was a rather turbulent time for Hubbs career wise. We spent several hours that evening, say 5, talking (and for Hubbs a few yelling moments) with this couple. The biggest impact was the times we just listened to them. Now almost 2 years later the Hubbs counts that evening as one of the major life altering events that propelled him to where he is now. Vesuvius has a way of getting to the matter of the issue at hand. He listened as Hubbs yelled and got righteous and even agreed that Hubbs wasn't wrong in his frustration. What I found amazing during that 5 hour marathon was that Vesuvius, with much calmness, gave insight to what was really going on and steered Hubbs down another path. It was truly amazing to watch this happen. I'm sure we didn't fully understand the impact of that night until recently.

So now we're 5 months into our relocation and I FINALLY get to spend a few days with my friend. La Jolla was lovely and the food was Divine. LOL!! I love how well you know me now! You already know where this is headed doncha?! Yep, you're right, it ain't about the the food or the beach. We could have been in Blythe CA! Which if you don't know is an awful place in the middle of nowhere between CA and AZ. Chiquita and I fell right back into our comfortable relationships with conversations that left me thinking, growing and loving life.

On the six hour ride back to the desert I had alot of time to think. I spent a bit of that crying but most of it relieved. I wrote previously about how we can see who we are in old friends. This past week I began to realize that we also see who we want to become with new friends. Our friendship, me and Chiquita, is balanced. Though there is a 20 years age gap and some mentoring involved, we share equally and both walk away better for our exchange. During our 3 days together, Chiquita asked me questions that gave me pause at times. One that comes to mind was "what the heck is that about?" Brilliant right?! That's her go to question when I'm telling her some story about something strange I did or felt. The question seems silly but it's great. It makes me think "what IS that about?" The answer is usually a random experience or idea that I was clueless about until her question.

One of the last things we did before leaving really metaphorically sums up what I think about friendship.

EXT. DAY - LA JOLLA STATE PARK

To WOMEN with a 20 year age gap walk a sandy path that curves through vegetation covered cliffs that overlook the Pacific Ocean. Little JACK RABBITS appear at the edge of the trail and watch the two tourist women with amusement.

WOMAN #1
Where the heck are we?
WOMAN #2
You have the map! What does it say?
WOMAN#1
Oh yeah.
(She pulls the map from her pocket.)
Looks like we're...well I'm not sure exactly.
WOMAN #2
Let me see
(she looks at the map too)
I think we turn right up at the top of the hill but I have no idea!
WOMAN #1
I guess we keep walking. At least the view is pretty.
WOMAN #2
and we're getting exercise!
WOMAN#1
Good point! We'll get out of here eventually.
WOMAN #2
So let's just keep going at least we've earned a good lunch!

So how does that explain friendship? Well, for me its simple. I'm on a path that I have no idea where's its taking me. I have friends that try to look at the map too but they may only see a little ahead. So we keep walking and give each other reasons to find a good lunch!

Live Long & Prosper

The beginning the of summer blockbusters is upon us. Over the past two weekends the Hubbs and I have partaken in this event by attending opening weekend for both Wolverine and Star Trek. Not really my types of films but after years of attending, in his words, whatever freaky lame @$$ waste of time film I wanted to see, I owed him a few mainstream films. I'm glad I did too. At a very basic review level both flicks were fun, stimulating and worth the admission.

Yeah but you know me right? I can't leave it there. After we left Star Trek something haunted me for days; both films were prequels. An interesting term and more interesting a trend that has been consistently gaining momentum thanks to Mr Lucas. As a currently unpaid but hopefully soon to be paid screenwriter I find prequels fascinating. Why? Thanks for asking! We know the ending.

Well, we do don't we? The whole premise of a prequel is that it's telling of the back story us writers spent months agonizing over during the original script as a way to get the characters right. Now you as the audience want to know what the heck happened to these people that made them so haunted or successful. Studios are make serious bank on that need. But the thought is still there, how do we keep the audience entertained and interested for 90 minutes for a story they already know the end too?

I'm not sure about that answer. Aren't ya glad you came along this little psycho journey with me?! I hope to have an answer by the time I'm done writing so stick with me and maybe we'll find out together!

Here's what I'm thinking and see if you agree or can extrapolate anything more. We know the ending of our story, we die. Yet we still continue to make decisions and live lives despite what some see as a depressing ending. Let's back up and say yes we know we're all headed north or for some and you know who you are, south after that last breath is expelled. We also know that there's an end to every flick and the credits will roll. Yet we continue to go see what Lucas, Spielberg and Apatow are up too because we love the journey whether the film was worth the $15 or not. So with that logic (maybe a stretch to say logic but let's keep going) though we know our end we want a great journey.

So the life we're living is the prequel to our future right? Follow me? I want to go further in this question. If you knew the exact ending of your life would you change how you're living it now? I think of Anakin Sky walker, yes I am talking about Darth Vader. Mr. Lucas, in my opinion, did an amazing job creating the life and pain of this man that was to become one of the coolest villains in film history. If young Anakin knew that his hate was going to cause him to have to breath through a black laundry basket for the rest of his life do you think he may have sought some therapy or at least hugged a wookie once in awhile?

So back to you friend, where are you wanting to go and what's holding you back? I'm asking myself that quite a bit these days. I'm a writer whose terrified of writing. No seriously I am afraid of writing! That blank screen just mocking me...*shudder*. Thank goodness for Facebook or I'd never be on the computer. Crap, I'm digressing again. Back to story, I have a pretty good idea of what I'd like the end to be but thankfully I believe in a big God that has the foresight to not let me know what He has planned but yet gives me dreams. If I knew all the things that were going to be in my life over the past 34 years I'm pretty sure I would have just curled up in a ball and covered my head. There was good, there was bad and there sure was ugly. Hel-lo crazy quilted skirt and matching top with pink saddle shoes! But looking back it's all so overwhelming it can make ME speechless. Think of your own story, if you knew what you know now wouldn't you have made different decisions? Flipside being you are now because of what you were then.

Another thought entered and is dancing around in this frightening place I call my mind. Don't just think about your own prequel. Take a moment to think about someone else's. Might help us to deal in a more productive way with someone who just gets our dander up.

So in a wrap up, (aren't you glad you stuck around? Thanks for that!) I guess I'm saying that I enjoy the occasional prequel but when given the choice I want the original. I'm glad I didn't know nor do I know now what the future will bring in my little life but I do know one thing, I do NOT want to end up sliding down a flaming hill with no legs only to be put into a black suit and breath like a char pea. I look terrible in black!

Punkin Out!