Trauma

Dear friends,

Phew, it's been a hell of a couple of weeks (hence, no blog posts in over two weeks).

As I mentioned at the end of my last post, my dad had a stroke. So I flew down to Aguascalientes, Mexico to be with him. And the flight from Washington to Dallas was the worst flight of my life.

Oh June 15, 2014, I flew on American Airlines flight 1355 from Washington Dulles Airport to Dallas Ft. Worth Airport. The flight was scheduled to depart at 3:50 PM and land at 6:00 PM. About 10 or 15 minutes before landing, as I was watching the movie Hamlet 2 on my laptop, the airplane suddenly fell, very abruptly, to the left and forward. It felt like a free-fall. I don't know how much time passed (10 second, 30 second?), but most of the passengers started screaming.

The plane soon leveled off, and we restored normal flight. The worst  part is that the crew never told us what happened. No word from the flight attendants or pilots. Nothing. So I was left with the job of calming the passenger next to me, because the crew certainly didn't do their part to calm the passengers.

We soon landed at DFW, and I made my way to my next gate, where I was grateful to find a Bennigan's restaurant. I sat down and ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. I had an extremely friendly server named Adam. I told him about my horrific flight, and he was very comforting and sympathetic. He told me about his worst flight, but added that he was so drunk that he didn't care. He made me laugh and helped give me the courage to get on my next flight.

I texted my boyfriend, Eric, during my layover at Bennigan's, and told him about my ordeal. Eric looked-up my flight online and discovered that my flight dropped over 6,000 ft. in the span of a couple of minutes. Ugh.

But by the power of Long Island Iced Tea, I was able to get on my next flight to Aguascalientes. My little regional airplane shook the whole way, and I shook the whole way. But somehow I made it to my destination.

I had no time to process my terrifying flight ordeal. I was picked-up at the airport and immediately taken to the hospital where my dad was in the ICU. I was allowed into the room for a brief visit. My dad was mostly asleep, and he had the oxygen mask on, but he knew who I was. We said hello, and then I let him go back to sleep.

My dad improved the whole time I was in Mexico. I spent every day at the hospital and got 5, 6, or 7 hours of sleep every night. But there were reasons to celebrate every day. My dad walked a little more each day, and he spoke more each day, and he became more "himself" every day.

And in other good news, I was given the opportunity to reconnect with aunts, uncles, and cousins that I hadn't seen in over 10 years. Everyone was loving and supportive, and I promised all of them that I would do a better job of keeping in touch in the future. I promised to come back, and I promised to bring my boyfriend, too (who they all want to meet).

By the time I left, I knew my dad was going to recover fully. He just needs the time and space to heal.

And then I had to fly back. Ugh. I was not looking forward to getting back onto an airplane. But I had no choice. The only way home was on that airplane (and I really wanted to go home).

The Aguascalientes Airport is relatively small. There are only two gates and no bar (and I really needed a bar). But there was a little gift shop, and thankfully, that gift shop sold cans of beer. So I chugged two cans of beer before getting on that little regional airplane back to DFW. It was a shaky flight, and I shook with fear the whole flight, but there were no 6,000-foot-plunges this time.

Landed at DFW, found my next gate, and found a TGI Fridays near by. Once again, I consumed two Long Island Iced Teas before getting on my connecting flight.

And finally, a very scared, very shaky girl landed at Washington Dulles Airport at 12:40 AM on Sunday morning, June 22, 2014. And as soon as I saw Eric at baggage claim, the floodgates opened, and the tears that I had been holding back all week came flooding out.

I haven't been my usual self since getting back home four days ago. I had horrible nightmares on Sunday night (all airplane-related) that kept me up all night. Since then, I've been taking Benadryl to fall asleep at night.

I haven't worked on my book. I've barely left my house. I'm not very productive this week. But that's ok. I need to heal. This is my time to cry, to sleep, and to heal. I'm not just healing from my scary flight that plummeted 6,000 feet. I'm also healing from the sight of my dad in the ICU. He came back to us, but there were no guarantees that he would. It was an emotional week. I had to deal with a lot of family stuff that is very unpleasant to deal with. But I did it. I survived it all. I will heal from all of it. And I will move on.

Lots of love,
Leila

P.S. On a much happier note, why not watch some very happy Sherman House Webisodes at www.shwebisodes.com ?

Kids In The Hall

Dear friends,

A childhood dream came true this past weekend. I saw The Kids In The Hall perform live! SO MUCH FUN!

Remember when I made my "vision boards" a few weeks ago? One of the pictures on one of my vision boards is the advertisement for the Kids in the Hall "Rusty & Ready Tour" at the DAR Constitution Hall. Can you see it below? (Hint: it's in the bottom left corner.)

I didn't buy tickets to the show because I thought it was irresponsible of me to buy $60 tickets when I currently don't have a full-time job. I decided I just didn't have the money for such a luxury.

But the day before the show, my housemate Marguerite told me that a friend of her's had invited her to the Kid In The Hall show. I was so jealous of her! But she encouraged me to bite the bullet and buy the tickets. It was on my "vision board", after all. It was destiny. So I said, "To hell with fiscal responsibility," and I bought tickets for me and Eric.

And I'm so happy that I did! The show opened with the 5 cast members all on stage in wedding dresses. There was immediate cheer and immediate laughing. The whole skit was them saying, "We wear wedding dresses because..." Hilarious. After the opening skit was over, the lights on stage blinked on and off while the classic Kids In The Hall theme music played ("Bing, buh-bing, buh-bing, budda-bing-bing-bing-bing", etc.). It felt like being at a taping of the actual Kids In The Hall TV show!

 
Apologies. It's not a great photograph. Two of the "Kids" are sitting in chairs, and the other three are standing behind them, and they're all in different wedding dresses. Brilliant.

After the opening skit and opening music, Kevin McDonald came onstage and performed a song about the history of The Kids In The Hall, and admitting that, "Most of you are probably here because your 41-year-old boyfriends made you come."

The next skit was none other than THE ORIGINAL CHICKEN LADY SKIT!!!! Word-for-word. Such hilarity. Such laughter. Such nostalgia.

Again, apologies for the poor photograph quality, but it's clearly Mark McKinney and Dave Foley performing the classic skit. "Do you love life? Chicken lady loves life."

Bruce McCulloch did a funny-yet-despressing monologue about being the only single guy living in a neighborhood of families, and how he's the creepy guy with the poodle. It wouldn't be a Kids In The Hall show without a Bruce monologue.

When Kevin McDonald came on stage in a silk smoking jacket, with a streak of grey through his hair, the crowd (myself included) immediately erupted into thunderous applause. We knew that it must be The Pit of Ultimate Darkness. And of course, his trusty man servant Hecubus, played by Dave Foley. It was a new skit, with classic characters. "I am here to serve you, Master... aaaaaaaaand Satan!"

One of the final skits was a new Buddy Cole skit, played by Scott Thompson. In the skit, he basically mused about kids today and all the anti-bullying campaigns, and how no one talked about or worried about bullying "in my day." He talked about a little boy who thought he was a girl, and his family raised him as a girl. Buddy said, "That little boy wasn't a girl, he just had too much self esteem!"

Yes, the cast is a little older, a little puffier, and a little more grey. But who am I to judge? I am also a little older, a little puffier, and a little more grey than I was in 1990! But watching them on stage, in character, under the bright stage lights, they looked like the same Kids In The Hall to me.

The show ended at around 9:30 PM. We waited outside of the DAR Constitution Hall for almost 2 hours after the show, in the hopes of meeting the cast members in person. We didn't know which doors they would walk out of. About 10-or-so of us fans were waiting around the stage door. By 11:00 PM, we were starting to give up. I told Eric and Marguerite that my cut-off time was 11:15 PM. If these guys didn't come outside by 11:15 PM, I was going to give-up and call it a night.

At 11:13 PM, a girl standing near us screamed, "They're coming out the other door!"

I haven't sprinted that long and that that hard since I was a teenager! But I BOLTED around the building and found Scott Thompson and Mark McKinney signing autographs. I approached Scott, almost in tears and told him, "It is such an honor to meet you. I have been a fan since I was a kid! When I moved to Texas, from Canada, in 1989, the only pop culture that I had in common with the other kids in my class was the Kids In The Hall. So I am a fan on a deep primordial level." And here, on film, is the moment I said that to Scott Thompson (note the hand on his heart).

Scott Thompson was so kind and so personable. It's like he actually enjoyed meeting his fans. He yelled at Mark McKinney to come be in a picture with me. "Hey Mark, she's a fellow Canadian!" "Oh yeah," Mark asked, "where are you from?" I told him, "I was born in Brantford, Ontario." Mark asked, "Where do you live now?" I said, "Washington, DC." Mark replied, "Traitor!" Then we took this picture.

These guys were great to me. I laughed so hard that night. If it's possible, I'm even a bigger fan of the Kids In The Hall now than I was when I was a kid.

And I needed a laugh that day. The night before, I had been awoken by a phone call from my mom at 1:00 AM, telling me that my dad (who lives in Mexico) had had a stoke and was in intensive care. Punch to the gut. It was a scary night. The next day, I didn't know how he was doing, so I was numb, with an aching pain in my stomach.

But then I went to the Kids In The Hall: Rusty & Ready Tour, and I laughed for hours. Then I met some of my comedy heroes! And it was exactly what I needed. And I am happy to report that my dad is getting better, his arms and legs work, and he is recovering his speech. He's going to make it through this.

So thank you, Kids In the Hall, for getting me through that. You guys rock!

~Leila

P.S. After you've caught up on all of your favorite episodes of The Kids In The Hall, why not catch up on all of your favorite episodes of The Sherman House Webisodes? Watch for free at www.shwebisodes.com?

Scandal

Dear friends,

I haven't worked on my book in over a week. My blog posts are few and far between. I am a bad, bad person. I am lazy. I don't deserve to be a writer. And I will be honest and tell you why. Scandal. Oh, holy jebus, I am 100% addicted to Scandal! I am watching it right now, as I type this!

I watch Scandal when I'm making and eating breakfast. I watch Scandal when I'm in the bathtub. I watch Scandal when I'm getting dressed in the morning. That *alone* is a BIG DEAL for me. For the past 6 years, I have watched The Daily Show and The Colbert Report every morning while I got dressed in the morning. Not anymore. I haven't watched Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert all week long! I have uprooted my sacred morning ritual because I am out-of-control, ADDICTED to Scandal!!!

I write these blog posts (and my book) on my white MacBook laptop. But because I am such a Scandal junkie, I've had my iPad by my side, ALL DAY, playing episode after episode of Scandal on my Netflix app. Laptop on my lap, iPad at my side. Episode after episode. It's out of control!

I've never been addicted to drugs, I've never been addicted to alcohol, but I am addicted to Scandal. It's disrupting my life and my creative process. I want to work on my blog. I want to work on my book! But I can't stop watching this damn TV show!!!

The irony of it all is that this show is so NOT my style. I do NOT like drama. I do NOT like murder. I do NOT like violence. Everything about this show should make me want to stop watching, but I can't!!!

Also, I have been having morbid dreams since I started watching this show. Not violent dreams, but morbid. I had a dream the other night about death. It wasn't a violent dream, just a dream where I was contemplating and facing my own mortality all night long. And I think about death all day long, too. I really have to stop watching this show. But I can't!!!

Maybe I just have to play this out. I only have 9 more episodes in Season Two and 18 episodes of Season Three. I can get through this entire show in less than a week. Then it's over. Then I can have my life back. Maybe I just have to admit that I am weak, that I am flawed, and my life will not be mine again until I have consumed every last episode of this violent, gruesome, thrilling, brilliant, addictive TV show.

Dear friends, don't start watching Scandal. Learn from my mistake! Save yourselves!!!

Ok, time to get back to my show ;-)

~Leila

P.S. Oh no! The Pentagon has bugged Olivia Pope's apartment! Aghhhhhhh!!!!!! (Oh, and go to www.shwebisodes.com).

My Day at the Bee

Dear friends,

Ugh, I did it again! I went another week without posting a new blog post! I'm so, so, so sorry.  I'll just end the apologies here and move-on with the story.

Last Wednesday, I attended the Scripps National Spelling Bee at the Gaylord Convention Center in National Harbor, Maryland (why they couldn't hold it somewhere Metro-accessible, I'll never know). Eric, my hero, drove me to National Harbor before 6:00 AM. When I arrived at 6:30 AM, neither the ballroom nor the media table were open, so I took a little stroll around the convention center, and this is what I saw from the window:

Not too shabby. I wish I had had some time to explore National Harbor, maybe take a spin on the new wheel, but every second was spent focused on my roll as a correspondent for The Repository newspaper in Canton, Ohio. I walked back to the spelling bee area to see if the media table had opened, and this is what I saw:

You know how Academy Award nominees always say, "It was such an honor just to be nominated"? Well, I know how they feel. I was honored just to be there as a journalist. I like seeing the world through the eyes of a journalist. I like doing a thing, then coming home and talking/writing about the thing. I think that being a journalist makes me more present and in-the-moment. I go to more events and search for more experiences when I know that I'm going to report on it to others afterwards. I like that. I like leading the life of a storyteller.

Back to the spelling bee. I checked-in with the media table as soon as they opened, and I staked out my seat at the "media tables," right near the front of the spelling bee stage. I took out my laptop, plugged it into the outlet, and connected to the WiFi. I connected my iPad and iPhone to the WiFi. I was ready to do some reporting... a full hour before the spelling bee even began ;-)

The spelling bee began at 8:00 AM sharp. The first group of students were in place on the stage, the lights were shining, and the cameras were rolling. About 40 students in a row all spelled their words correctly before any students made an error and were eliminated. The student I was reporting on was the 185th student speller of the day, and he got his first word right!

By the way, I'm not going to re-cap the whole spelling bee here. If you want to know how my student did at the spelling bee, you can read my full story at The Repository's website, here: Area speller eliminated in second round of national bee.

The day was long. 281 spellers all came to the microphone in the morning for their turn to compete. Then there was an hour-long lunch break. I spent most of that time at the press conference, with the official bee "pronouncer", as well as the director of the spelling bee. I was wooed to the press conference by the promise of free lunch (a sack lunch consisting of a turkey sandwich, apple, bag of chips, chocolate chip cookie, and cup of pasta salad). I tried to think of a provocative-yet-intelligent question to ask, but I couldn't think of one. So I just wrote-down what other people said.

One journalist asked why all the winners of the past 6 years had all been of Southern Asian decent. The director of the bee couldn't give a scientific reason for this, but she praised the diversity of the student spellers. The students came from a wide variety of ethnic and economic backgrounds. As an audience member, the spellers on stage looked like an even mix of White, Black, Asian, and Hispanic backgrounds. The students on that stage were a visual representation of what is best about this country. 

The student that I was reporting on spelled his first word correctly, and therefore moved-on to the second round of competition in the afternoon. Unfortunately, he spelled his second word incorrectly. So he was out of the competition. 

After the second round of spelling, an announcer from ESPN announced which 50 (or so) students would be moving-on to the semifinal rounds the next day. After all the spellers were announced, I left my seat and met-up with the student I was reporting on, and his parents. The speller was bummed, and clearly disappointed in himself for getting his word wrong, but his parents were gushing with pride. 

Once I had my quotes from them, I returned to my seat at the ballroom and spent the next hour writing the full story for the newspaper. I was done at around 6:45 PM. At which point, my hero, Eric, offered to drive all the way back out to National Harbor to pick me up at take me home. What a sweetie.

So how did I do on my first freelance job as a Washington correspondent? I honestly think I kinda sucked. While I am happy with the final article that I wrote, I'm disappointed in myself for not really understanding what my editor meant by, "Send me web updates." I thought those "web updates" were just supposed to be Twitter-length sentences. They weren't. He wanted me to write short articles for the web after each time my student went up to the microphone for his word. My "web updates" were kinda crap, and my editor had to fix my mistakes.

But you know, I should be proud of myself for just taking a chance and offering to write the article at all. I didn't 100% know what I was getting myself into, but I took a leap of faith that I could do it anyway. And just like all those kids who didn't make it to final round of the spelling bee, I should be proud of myself for just getting there. We should all learn from those brave young spellers. We should all be striving for something great, even if we don't get all the way there. There is beauty in the trying.

Love and light to all of you.

~Leila

P.S. If you've never watched all 10 episodes of The Sherman House Webisodes before, well, you really should start watching them today (for free!) at www.shwebisodes.com.