June 6: Dreams, Dad, Drugs

Gah, I had the strangest dream last night.

• Strange thing #1: I was friends with all the Sex and the City women. We were at the same college, though apparently just hanging out on campus and not attending. And one day I just sorta realized, “Hey, these women are famous all over the world and here they are on our little college campus, doing the same things we do and being our friends!”
  
• Strange thing #2: All of them except Sarah Jessica Parker—who was not Carrie, but SJP—were killed in a car accident in Japan or someplace like that (this might stem from Chris’ fakey movie spoilers—thanks, jackass!). Miranda’s funeral was held soon afterward. Charlotte’s funeral was later and we were getting ready to go. Sarah Jessica was very upset and we were all comforting her but I think mostly we just wanted to pretend this celebrity needed us normal people.
  
• Strange thing #3: The third woman was not Samantha but some other woman, and she showed up at Charlotte’s funeral. Then we all went to hers together. Yes, we all went to hers together. And I tried to put pantyhose on over my pantyhose. And Vic was mad because he couldn’t find our The Little Mermaid DVD and he thought we should play it during at least one of the funerals.
  
• Strange thing #4: My dad was alive again. We’d had his funeral in 2005 but his death had been faked by the spy organization he was working for. Kath and I always suspected this...
  
• Strange thing #5: My mom made us have another funeral for our dad and made him attend. It was held on a hill in rural Clackamas County and we all sat on logs like it was summer camp. Dad sat and took notes throughout the whole thing, probably of errors made in the eulogy. I chose “Time of Your Life” to be played at the service.

I woke up with the words to “Time of Your Life” going through my head. I looked up the lyrics and some of them seem somewhat appropriate for a funeral, but if you really examine them, it really is more of a break-up song—which is what Green Day kept trying to explain to people when the song got overplayed as a “good memories” song. Anyway, here they are:

Another turning point;
a fork stuck in the road.
Time grabs you by the wrist;
directs you where to go.
So make the best of this test
and don't ask why.
It's not a question
but a lesson learned in time.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs
and still frames in your mind.
Hang it on a shelf
In good health and good time.
Tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial.
For what it's worth,
it was worth all the while.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

Tomorrow it will be three years since my dad died. And what’s been going through my mind over the past few weeks as I’ve anticipated this anniversary is that I wonder if Dad had regrets. I like to think he enjoyed his time here, that he loved us and was happy with his life, for the most part. I do wonder if—if he ever would have admitted them—he wished he’d done things differently. And if he had known he was going to die when he did, how he would have spent his last days. Quite frankly, I think he would have spent them alone and crying. He never had a very good hold on his emotions and he hated being seen in a vulnerable state. He probably wouldn’t have known what to do with the last of his time here and would have felt totally overwhelmed by it. I guess for his sake, I’m glad he went unexpectedly so he didn’t have time to think about those things.

I’m also glad he didn’t grow ancient and bedridden because oh, how he would have hated that. But if I could have it the way I want? I would want him here because I have missed him every single day for three years. He’s never far from my thoughts. I still think “I need to call Dad” when I find things that would make him laugh. I still hear his overused jokes and phrases that were so “him.” In all the ways he drove me crazy and in all the ways I adored him, I wish it could be so very, very different.

I’m planning on writing something about him here tomorrow, hopefully in a more positive way. But as you think about what you’ll be doing tomorrow, I would be honored if you would do at least one of the ten things on this list to remember Curt Saltmarsh. Thanks. We all thank you.

As for the strange dreams, I’ve been on potent painkillers the past few days because of this headache. I think they’re to blame. I’m going to blame them anyway. Because if it’s not the drugs, then it’s just me; it’s just my wacky little brain coming up with this stuff all on its own. And that is more frightening than the dreams themselves.

Oct. 3: SATC spoiler

You may have heard that filming of the new Sex and the City movie has started. This picture taken during a shoot yesterday makes me oh-so-happy. Click it to see a nice big version. (What's with the feather?) There have also been photos of Charlotte very pregnant—though rumored to be a dream sequence—and Jennifer Hudson as Carrie's assistant.

And we're supposed to wait until May 2008 for this movie to be released? That's just cruel.

Feb. 2: Heil Myself... Heil to Me...

Know what? I'm so darn smart I can barely stand myself.

Problem is, today my noggin just gave up. It's full. The "No Vacancy" light's blinking, and if I could think of any other metaphors I would. They say beer kills brain cells, and drugs kill brain cells, and TV kills brain cells. I know for a fact that thinking too much kills brain cells too. And it ain't as much fun as that other stuff neither.

Anyhoo, I can tell I've exhausted all intelligence because I can't think of anything to write and also because I said "anyhoo." But has that ever stopped me before? I think you know the answer to that one.

Today is Sean's birthday. It's hard to believe my nephew is already 15! Just kidding, I know he's actually 18. Yikes-a-hootie, I 'member before he was born. It's actually just as hard to believe he's 18 as it is that my sister has an 18-year-old kid! Geez, she must be really old, like FORTY.

And speaking of important birthdays, there's one coming up in our house too. Yessiree, Katie will be 5 years old next Wednesday. Her party--this year, classmates only--is Sunday afternoon. She can't stop talking about it. I can't stop stressing about it. It'll be fun, I'm sure, because our parties always are (I hear--I don't attend them all). One of the plans is for the kids to play "Hullabaloo," a kid game from those brainiacs at Cranium. If you haven't played it, you should--it's really fun, kind of a combo of Twister and I don't know what. Just trust me.

My little friend Olivia is doing very well post-transplant. Read Mark and Annalee's journal entries at Olivia's Wish. Warning: Jan. 30 will make you cry.

Well, it seems my blog has finally seen some action! This is quite exciting, though undoubtedly only to me. I liked that "Anonymous" made a worthwhile contribution as she always does, and was not surprised that Martin's entry was mostly just making fun of things I say. If he continues this pattern I might have to make use of that little garbage can icon underneath the comments... but not yet, I'm just so thrilled to know someone is actually checking in to manullang.com!

And Lori, the motherboard episode got me too--that was the turning point, when I went from sorta liking the show to really liking the show.

So now that you kids have checked in, it's only a matter of time until Kathy contributes, isn't it???

My friends Kristine and Michael just crack me right up. I want to share a couple of their recent e-mails with you, my Jenketeers (The Onion reference... I promise, it'll never happen again):

Yummy Chinese Food!

And y'know how your monitor can get so grimy? Here's a little help getting it polished up: Mr. Clean

In the ancient words of the ever-eloquent Taylor Lassen, "No more words."

J.

Jan. 20: SATC on the brain

A couple years after "Sex and the City" started there was a whole bunch of hype about it. I've been a Sarah Jessica Parker semi-fan since her "Square Pegs" days, so when Season One of SATC was released on DVD, I rented it. At first, I honestly could not understand the hype. Except for the shock value, there was nothing very interesting about the show. The premise itself was shallow at best, and the writing seemed awkward. The acting wasn't much better. However, the characters were amusing. I rented Season Two.

In my opinion, almost everything about the show improved after the first season. I started to like it better and I started to care what happened to their characters. As with any TV show, you get to know the primary characters and you can't help but feel they're friends of some sort. So as each new season was released on DVD, I was eager to watch. It became such a fun show, full of surprises, humor, and unexpectedly touching moments. The second half of Season Six (the final one) was released a few weeks ago. I already knew how the series ended--everyone does, unless you were living under a rock last year--but I still watched with the hope that Carrie and Big would finally end up together.

Let me quickly admit something embarrassing: even though I've seen "The Sound of Music" a million times, during the dance at the ball I still hope the captain and the governess will eventually realize they're in love. I know, I'm a dork.

Anyway, last night I reserved some TV-and-quiet time to watch the finale, and I cried my big fat eyes out. During the show's run the girls had their individual lives and their lives together, and they were, for the most part, kept separate. But in the last few episodes there was a lot of overlapping, and it seemed so much more like real life. I loved that.

One of my favorite moments was when Miranda said to Big, "Go get our girl." It made me suddenly wistful. I missed my girlfriends. I started to reminisce to myself about my single days, when my girlfriends and I would stay up all night chatting in the dorm, or during our angst-ridden post-grad lives, when we'd talk and talk about anything and everything important to us. But my reminiscing didn't last long... our lives were really nothing like "Sex and the City." No one would ever consider writing a TV show, or a book, or even a newspaper column based on us. Yes, we're that boring. And actually, I don't think I have a problem with that.

Um, I don't know where I'm going with this. I think my original point was that:

1. The SATC finale was better than I thought it'd be
2. I cried big ol' alligator tears like a big ol' Charlotte
3. Now that the show is over I'm surprised how much I miss it
4. I can't decide if I was happier about the way their friendships grew over six years, or how each girls' story ended (a little too predictably, maybe, but happy happy happy)
   

If you've never seen "Sex and the City," let me say this: I don't recommend it for the faint of heart. Or my mom. :) It's raunchy, even filthy at times. The characters are flawed and not always likeable. But if you're still curious like I was, give it a couple seasons' chance before you give up on them.

Oh, here's my plea for comments! Which one are you?

• Carrie
• Miranda
• Samantha
• Charlotte

Discuss.