November 7, 2005I wish I had an amusing story to explain my prolonged absence from Eye on Soaps. Even better would be news of brilliant successes and I don’t know, maybe a Lotto jackpot or two. Or, we could combine the two and I could regale you with tales of astoundingly lucrative successes night after night at the Craps table or something. Picture me in a glittering, form fitting golden gown and strappy heels, with my hair piled “oh so carelessly”, yet perfectly, atop my head in an up-do, throwing the dice with a confident little knowing smile upon my face. Let’s not forget the adoring crowd that has gathered around me either, all hoping that if they brush their greedy mitts across my gown then maybe they too will turn into a lucky golden Craps Goddess. Sherry, the Craps Goddess. Well, “crap” has been a theme, so at least there really is that. What I’ve really been up to isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things I suppose, and I can guarantee your imagination can make it more interesting than it really was. Suffice it to say though, that I’ve made some life direction changes and they’ve yet to be proven wrong (not that I’ve given them time yet, but it’s important to capitalize on the little successes, right?) so I feel pretty good about them at the moment. In case you haven’t caught on yet (and I’ll be some of you more savvy readers caught on right from the “I wish” part of the column, and weren’t swayed from that notion by discussion of heels and up-do’s either) today’s writing is an attempt to get past a block the size of Canada in the creativity department. I’d like to tell you that I cleared up that pesky every day life stuff and finally found time to sit at the computer and this is what came out…but the God of glittering golden gowns would probably strike me deader than a doornail right here in my chair. This is about (estimation here) the seventeenth column I’ve started over the last few weeks. The process has been the same, I delay, stall, delay some more, resort to cleaning the house in order to stall, stop to eat, and finally sit down at the computer. Then I type two paragraphs or so (and look, we’re there right now!) and then I stop to read them over. I guffaw at my stupid typographical errors and cringe at my grammatical slayings – pretending I actually see them all. Then I get to the end of paragraph two and realize that I am, once again, a Goddess of Crap(s) of a sort. It occurs to me that I’m trying to leave that glamorous glittery life behind and do something worthwhile with myself, so I delete all the crap I just wrote and go pick the kids up from school. The next day, it’s the same song, second verse. I consulted with friends, mentors, pets, and the mailman. All suggested that I just *do* it, just sit down, write something, *anything* (and they said use lots of asterisks too), and send it in. Period. Don’t second-guess it, don’t wonder if it’s deserving, don’t ponder whether it’s worthy. Just do it. Then supposedly, once you get over that initial hump, it’ll come back naturally. Do you think maybe they meant it would come back *in* that initial column? Like by the end of it I’d feel good…accomplished even? I don’t see that happening yet; should I be worried? Is it normal for paragraph three to be turning out like this? I wasn’t feeling good at all about paragraph three, so I put an end to it right then and there. See how powerful I am? Who’s afraid of Crap Goddess now, huh? That’s right. Maybe I have nothing to say that’s worth reading, but my ability to manipulate the page is just astounding. I’m like Houdini in spike heels, darting this way and that spreading magic all around! Just when you think I’m in the middle of a though, pfft, no! I backtrack, I redirect, I …lose my train of thought altogether! And when none of that works, I just push “enter” and try again! Speaking of trying again, I have to decide whether I should start watching any daytime soaps again or not. I haven’t seen a moment of one in months, and I while I really miss writing about them (because having a pre-determined subject most certainly helps me) and talking to others about them, I don’t so much miss watching them honestly. I was definitely ready for a break and don’t regret it a bit. I didn’t have the time before, and it really felt like a chore to find the time to view the tapes every week. I have more time now, but I just am not sure if I want to start back up or not. There is a certain freedom in not watching, I must admit. Yet I can’t picture myself never watching again either, so maybe this is a good time to start back up? Those of you that have read my columns for awhile know me pretty well, so I’d be quite happy to hear from you on this subject – any reasons you think I might be happy to view GH again? Any reasons you think I might want to stay away awhile longer? In the meantime, I plan to be writing about something regularly now. What I don’t know, but something! I’m tossing around the idea of a sort of compilation weekly column of prime-time TV thoughts because there are several shows I watch that I’m always wanting to discuss (Nip/Tuck, Lost, Alias, My Name is Earl, etc.). Maybe something in a Live Journal format where those of you that are interested can respond immediately for me and everyone else to see and we can discuss things like how freaky it is that Matt on Nip/Tuck looks like Michael Jackson and other such important details. Then there’s the whole reality TV thing and I could do an entirely separate column on that, because those of you who avoid it should not have to be subjected. I’ll pretty much watch any reality show. I think pointing and laughing at people who intentionally put themselves out there for that purpose is rather therapeutic. The trashier the better! Three blondes who have no idea how to housebreak an animal, bringing six pets each to all live under one roof with Hugh Heffner? I’m in! Hulk Hogan tries yoga and fights city hall over his 25 barn animals in a ritzy neighborhood? Bring it! British nanny tries to change household routine of a police officer? Now *that’s* drama! Don’t even get me started on Donald Trump nodding his hair encouragingly while talking about sex with a possible virgin in the boardroom. Ack. I think maybe I’m only still watching that so I can play “Trump or Monkey” on Letterman with the advantage of having had a fresh look at The Donald’s “Do” once a week. Is reality TV ruining television for actors, writers, and the like? Probably. Do I care? Not so much since I figure everything has it’s time and purpose under Heaven (and Les Moonves) and everything is cyclical. The downtrodden will come back better than ever, not taking for granted that the viewer would embrace every bit of crap they put out there. They’ll work harder, unknown talents will get a shot since the known talents will be off starting their own reality shows (which will spark off the disappearance of the reality show, incidentally) and shows with actual actors, doing things like…I dunno…acting, will be the next big thing. Circles, big fat circles, I’m telling you. Since this is still going nowhere (and not fast even…it’s been all afternoon!) I may as well work on an ending. I’m thinking maybe a preview of some of the thoughts I’ve been saving for columns that will be much more scintillating than this little starter column is. Look forward to: In depth discussion of this phone conversation: Phone rings. Me: Hello? Long pause. Them: Does anyone in the residence speak Spanish? Me: No Them: Are you sure? Me: Absolutely. Them: Is this the Mercushioooo residence? (First rule, never engage them by correcting their massacre of your name – it’s a ploy) Me: Yes Them: Okay then, thank you. Points to cover: It’s ITALIAN already. Is this related to those Spanish magazine subscription letters I keep getting in the mail? Why wasn’t I quick enough to answer the “thank you” with “de nada”? Possible alternate topic: Why do I have to push the “English” button on the bank ATM screen? Why can’t it just default to English, here in America, and have an “Espanol” button down at the bottom? Coming soon some other week: Can a seven-year-old girl who “claims” to want to play baseball for the love of the game but then refers to the actual games as “shows” really be trusted to engage in the actual sport or will we be watching the uniform and shirt we paid good money for twirl around like a ballerina somewhere in the outfield? Should we bother investing in a glove or just hand her a wand? Do I explain that it’s not like being in a Broadway production or should I just turn a blind eye to the butterfly wings and just be glad she wears the cap instead of insisting on a crown? Cell phones: It *is* different when I have to listen to you talking on your cell phone in Target than it is when your best friend is right next to you and you’re having that same conversation in the store. It’s different because if I’m going to eavesdrop on your conversation, I deserve to hear both sides of it. This does NOT mean, however, that I think the walkie-talkie option on your phone is appropriate for public use. Let’s just call that what it is: someone answering you through a megaphone. I do NOT understand the benefit to those phones. Sure, you don’t have to hold it to your ear, but that’s about it, isn’t it? You still have to have a free hand to push the button when you want to interrupt the guy with the megaphone and talk yourself, don’t you? If it’s hands free you want, get the headset, and feel free to use the CB version in the privacy of your own home/vehicle, but they should be outlawed in restaurants and every other public venue. I’m taking a stand! Probably I should call a friend and have them roam the streets waving their phone while I say exactly that through the megaphone so that I can be sure everyone will hear it. I’m all for special “cell phone sections” in restaurants for those that just can’t make it to the door to take that call out in the lobby, as well. I think this column will be a three-part expose. May or may not delve into the conspiracy and cover-up of the ring tone industry. I’ll text message you with an update when we’re ready to roll with this one. As you can see, it’s going to be an exciting season around here. Maybe I’ll change the look of the column! Maybe I’ll change the name! You just try to keep up with my golden dancing feet! Don’t forget to remind me why I want to spend daytime hours with ABC either; it’s a big decision that one shouldn’t make alone! (And seriously, thank you for reading. I’m really hoping this painful experience will be the beginning of a good place us all, lol!)
Always
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