Betty Friedan. It's Betty Friedan you IDIOT!

Betty Friedan.

Raise your hand if you know who she is.

Well now, that's not so good.

See, I'm imagining that the number of you that raised your hands is the same percentage of people that raised their hands when my Mom and I were in Washington DC, stood in the Portrait Gallery in front of a picture of Betty, and we were the only two out of 15 who knew who she was.

I know that sentence was super long, but I just couldn't shorten it.

The portrait episode happened a few years ago, but it was brought back to mind when I read this blog post: How I Derailed My Career and Discovered My Life by Valerie Latona.

I may be confused, but in the 70's, wasn't the point of fighting for Women's Rights so that women could have the choice about whether to have kids and stay home as a full time mom (a full time job I might add) or to have a full time career - OR BOTH.

I was born at the end of the sixties. Whomever "they" are say that I'm Generation X. But, I don't feel like a Gen Xer, I think more like whatever the "children-born-of-Baby-Boomers-but-not-exactly-Gen-Xers" do. I don't feel entitled to a job; I know I have to work to make my own way. I don't think that everyone should do for me...that kind of thing.

I did get to experience part of Women's Liberation though. I marched with my Mom to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment: Section 1 stated: "Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex." I must tell you, this seemed like a slam dunk idea to me. Why we needed (and apparently still need) to put it in writing baffles me. Evidently, given the fact that it was written in 1923 by Alice Stokes Paul, passed in both houses of Congress in 1972 and was sent to the state legislators for ratification. The deadline to ratify it was June 30, 1982 and it wasn't ratified.

What? Seriously? Not ratified? Why?

Well, now, that's a very interesting question. Why not?

Ask fifty people and you will get fifty answers ranging from male bashing to female bashing (the ONE thing we're equal about in this country is bashing EVERYONE); from who deserves what to no one deserves anything.

I'm nauseous just thinking about the whole thing and that's not good because I'm eating lunch right now.

Why in 2012 are we STILL discussing the fact that women are paid less than men; according to the fine folks at Catalyst "The median annual income for full-time, year-round women workers in 2009 was $36,278 compared to men’s $47,127." (I didn't do a whole lot of research, but this is pretty close even though it's older data than I'd like).

Did you read that right? "...full-time, year-round women workers..." and "...compared to men's..." Not 'men's full-time year round workers'. Sheesh.

O.K. I know I've strayed a bit...and this is not going to be a diatribe about Equal Rights, Women's rights and who has the right to decide what happens to my body or your body for that matter! (Though it should!!! The political scene seems to need a boot, no a pointy-steel-tip boot to the head regarding that! Maybe another day.)

BUT! What I want to get out is this...many women still feel that they have to make a choice about career versus parenthood. It looked to me like Valerie (the blogger who I referenced at the beginning of this post) had a fabulous career in an organization (thankfully I don't know which one) that did NOT embrace the idea that she could be successful in her job AND be a parent. (NB: I do not know what was going on at home with her spouse; if there was one and/or if they discussed the possibility of him/her being a part-time/full-time parent) Every job I've ever had (except my current one which I LOVE) did not leave the door 0pen to the idea of my remaining in my role AND being a part-time parent. Yes, I'd have to augment my role but with a husband who was willing to do that as well, it could have worked. Not only did my former jobs not open the door to the idea, they didn't even HAVE a door, much less a knob with which to open it.

What am I getting at?

Not company bashing, not people bashing and not gender bashing.

This: All that fighting that Betty Friedan, Gloria Stienem, and men and women like my Mother did was to give the girls and women of the coming generations the OPTION, the CHOICE as to what they want to do with their lives. Guess who it also was for? It was for the men and the boys to have the OPTION, the CHOICE as to what THEY wanted to do with their lives too.

What happened to people actually getting the opportunity to have the choice? To make the choice? We were supposed to move forward, to evolve as a being. I would have hoped that 30 years after the ERA failed to be ratified, we as a society would see the errors of our ways and make it so on our own.

From where I sit and watch the Politicians babble, fight and look generally foolish (the men AND the women btw), it would seem to me that we're no closer. I'm really disappointed in us. Really disappointed.

We're somewhat better off...I think...

Today is the 10th anniversary of the attack on the United States. On September 11, 2001 two hijacked airplanes flew into the Twin Towers in New York, one hijacked plane flew into the Pentagon and one plane that was almost hijacked but diverted by brave brave people on the plane crashed into a field in Shanksville, PA. We were under attack and it was really really scary.

Aha and I had just woken up for the day and while he was brushing his teeth and I was rubbing sleep from my eyes, I turned on the NBC news (as I always did). What I saw was that it appeared that the World Trade Center was on fire.

"Honey, come here, the World Trade Center is on fire." I said.

"What??", he said?

As he walked in and we stood together in front of our television, we watched the 2nd plane fly right into the second tower.

I wasn't sure what I was seeing. My first thought was "wow...what an accident...". Inside of about 5 minutes, I knew it wasn't an accident.

We were under attack and it was very very scary. My life, along with everyone else's life, changed forever that day. Ten years later, the question seems to be, for the better or not?

Now...to back up a bit, the 9/11 attacks (as they came to be known) were not the first "where where you when...." event that happened in my lifetime. Fortunately, in my 43 years, there haven't been many but they include in no particular order:

* The Challenger explosion 1986 - in high school english class

* Regan being shot - in elementary school

* The first African American being elected president - on my couch with Aha

* The first woman being nominated for vice president - with my parents

* The Northridge earthquake - lying in my bed feeling it

* The death of:

-- Michael Jackson

-- Jerry Garcia

-- Freddie Mercury

-- John John Kennedy

But 9/11 is the one event in my lifetime that has had permanent repercussions.

All of the sudden, no one felt safe any longer. We were here in California wondering if the terrorists were coming here next. Would it be like the movies? Would there be a takeover and we'd all be killed?

That first 24 hours were errie. All we did was watch television. Those two planes flying into the World Trade Center towers over and over and over and over again. It got to the point where I just couldn't watch it any longer.

It took a long time and eventually, life became what is known now in our house as "the new normal". Travel changed, mailing things changed, our level of safety confidence changed. We could never ever go back.

But now, ten years later, there is a tremendous debate about whether we're better off or not. Well, let's see; thanks to some tool who put a bomb in his shoe, we have to take off our shoes when we go through security at the airport. Thanks to a different tool, we can't take more than the amount of 3 oz bottles that fit in a medium size Zip Lock bag. That didn't piss me off because I am a bag checker...I don't carry my suitcase on if I can avoid it. That's why God invented the belly of the plane, right? What irritated me was that I couldn't bring my coffee, a bottle of water or any drinkable liquid into the airport and through security. But whatever, I'll survive.

You'll notice that I'm not kvetching about the fact that they want to x-ray my carry on bag, that my computer has to have its own little bin to go through the x-ray or that they want to practically have me strip down to my bra and panties so they can see if I'm trying to smuggle something illegal on board (which I never am). I don't even care so much about the new x-ray that everyone thinks is too invasive. If some TSA person gets their rocks off checking out my boobs or nether region, then yeah for them; frankly I'm excited that I excite anyone these days.

What would I care about? Being groped, that wouldn't work, but since I haven't been, mostly because I consent to the x-ray, I'll leave it at - YOU MAY NOT TOUCH MY UNDER THE NEATH PARTS. YOU GET TO CHECK ME OUT VIA X-RAY AND THAT'S IT.

You will notice that I will also not use this space to mention that in nine years of flying Aha has never been asked to show his prescription for his Copaxone (all filled syringes) and when we were going through IVF, I was not asked to show a letter or a prescription for over 20 empty and over 10 filled syringes as well as multiple filled little bottles. Nope, no one wanted to talk about them. Oh well.

Here's the thing - we are better off and here's why.

It hasn't happened again.

People are more vigilant. It was regular people who noticed that a car was parked in Times Square and something wasn't quite right. It was regular people who have helped airline staff subdue all kinds of wacky people that try to get to the cockpit and/or to the flight team.

People aren't getting their machetes on to the planes (really, who needs that on a plane?) and people are more cognizant of who is on their planes and their behavior.

Now, there are plenty of ways we're not better off - the top five spots on that list belong to racial profiling. That makes me so incensed! How dare someone treat a person badly because they are wearing a headscarf!! How dare someone treat another human being badly because of their religion. I could go on for pages and pages, but I think you get the drift.

People will tell you that we're being spied on and that our privacy is being breeched. I am not here to try to change your mind if that's you. That's not the purpose of my blog. You are entitled to your own opinion.

However, here's my thoughts on it. Here's my thoughts on the TSA's ability to seem to go way way way overboard sometimes. Here's my insight into why we slap rules on ourselves when bad things happen.

Change happens very very very slowly. We are only ten years out from that horrible day. We're still working out the kinks of how to protect ourselves from the bad people in the world (in this case, "bad people" = anyone who wants to bring harm to the USA). We're still in a pretty reactionary time. Think about ten years in the context of the fact that we're a pretty young country. Also, think of ten years in the context of politicians are the ones making the decisions. I will save my thoughts on our government for another post. But, they really irk me.

So, we might be a little too over to one side when it comes to protecting ourselves. And we're not so fabulous about laying out perimeters. Finally, we don't seem to be so great at managing the process and checks and balances. We'll get there. The pendulum will swing. Think about how far the other way the pendulum was before 9/11. Before 9/11 you could get to the airport 30 minutes before your flight and be fine (unless you were in my family, we always got there hours before). Now, post 9/11, you need to allow over an hour to get through the aforementioned security screening process. We'll get there. It takes time and it takes mistakes to figure out what we need to do to adjust.

I think we need to spend less time being irked about processes that are keeping us safe and more time figuring out why we treat each other so badly. Why racism still exists in this country. Why people care about who we marry. Why the children in our country aren't getting educated as they should. Why we all can't seem to communicate very well and instead we shoot each other. Spend the time on that and not on why the TSA wants to see your bra. I mean really.

A few thanks are in order on, this the 10th anniversary of 9/11:

Thank you to all of the people who ran INTO the buildings to try to save as many people as they could. Thank you to the men and women of all the Police Departments and Fire Departments who worked tirelessly to save people and clean up the disastrous mess. Finally, thank you to the families who lost their loves ones as responders, first or otherwise. You performed the greatest sacrifice. You supported a person who gave their life in order to help others. They gave the greatest thing they could, their life and while I'm not sure about heaven and hell, I do feel that they have been put in a place where they can be happy. Please know that your family member is still a brave soul.

We'll get there. Be patient. But look at it this way, it's not happened again and that's a good sign.

America - we rock,

Dena.

Run! Run! Run Dena Run!

Really, after running 13.1 miles, this is a fabulous sign to see on the bathroom mirror. Aha couldn't make it to Anaheim yesterday with me because, let's face it, MS Sucks. Yep, yesterday, MS won the battle of Jay vs It. For two years, he's been with me at the Disneyland Half Marathon. We go down the day before and spend the afternoon together going to the Health and Fitness Expo where we pick up my race number and swag. We have dinner with friends who moved from San Antonio a few years ago (the 'she' of the couple is one of the sole reasons I survived my business trips to San Antonio - which lasted almost a year!); and he sends me off at 4:30 AM the morning of the run.

I'll see him somewhere along the route (last year at Angel Stadium) and he is always waiting at the finish line for me. I've run 7 half marathons (including this one) and he's been at the end of 5 of them. The two he missed, were due to MS. Which leads me to restate that MS Sucks. So when I saw this sign waiting for me in our bathroom; it was all worth it.

More than one person has asked me why I run.

It's an interesting question. My friend who used to live in San Antonio is a brand new runner and she was telling me how boring it was to run on the treadmill.

She is right. Any runner who has had to run more than 3 miles on a treadmill will tell you that it doesn't matter if you're listening to the best book you've ever read, watching the best television show or movie or even talking with your best friend; the treadmill is an instrument of torture. I told her that she needs to reserve the treadmill for bad weather days and run outside. Hopefully she'll take my advice because she's supposed to run the D-land Half next year. and I want to run it with her.

But why do I run?

To begin with - I'll call it what it is. When I lost a lot of weight 3 years ago (46 pounds) I did it by changing my relationship with food (info for another post) but also with running. Running allows me to eat more of the things one shouldn't eat if I didn't exercise. I don't plan to EVER put that weight back on and running will help make sure that never happens.

Secondly, sanity. There is something about those endorphins that help me stay off the roofs of buildings. It won't remove all the blues, but a great many of them.

Thirdly, my mind is really clear when I run. I do some of my best thinking when I run. I wrote the toast my brother and I gave at our parent's 45th anniversary party while running; I wrote the thank you remarks I gave at my 40th b'day party while running and I have worked through many a training class while running.

Fourth, let's face it; if you were to write an essay about my athletic ability you'd be done inside of 50 words. I have ZERO athletic skill and I'm not real comfy with that. Team sports tend to be a disaster for me in that, I'm the one who tends to not be able to: make the basket, hit the ball, make a good serve, swing a club or most importantly, win the game. Thus, running, an individual sport, seems to be the best way for me to go. Don't get me wrong, I have to be careful not to fall each and every time I go out, but at least, I'm the only one who must deal with that event; not a team. Oddly enough, I do participate in one team running sport; the Ragnar Relay and my team seems to love me and love my skill. So as long as they'll have me, I'll run with them.

Finally, truth be told, I like it. It used to be that you couldn't get me to run; anywhere, from anything, nothing. At all. Ever. Both my parents were runners (3 marathons between them) and they used to try to drag me and my brother out to run. We fought it tooth and nail. Now, wait for it, we are both runners. But I do seem to like it. A good running day generally guarantees a good rest of the day. A bad running day, well you can do the math. What do I love best? When it's over. The feeling of, "well, that's done" is fantastic. And that feeling is quadrupled after a half or full marathon. When I was walking back to my el crappo hotel after the race and I was talking with my Mom, she said, "good, that's behind you" and she is right. That almost feels better than finishing. Almost.

Finishing...let's talk about the goal of these races for a moment. Finishing is the numbers 1, 2, and 3 goals for me when I run these races. What my time is for the race comes in 7th or 8th after finishing, finishing, finishing, not bleeding, not injured and upright. Only then do I care about my time (which incidentally was 2:27:38 for today's race). And then, I don't really care that much.

The D-land HM is terrific. Only in a Disney race will you see multiple Princesses (or these women's versions of the Princesses based on still needing to wear running clothes), at least 3 Tinkerbells and a Goofy. Lots of people running in Mouse Ears and various Disney headwear. Yeah for them. I don't run in costume - EVER. Not for me. I'm a purest, running skirt (have dumped my running shorts in favor of them; check them out here), tank top, running bra, socks, shoes and hat. Not injuring myself is paramount and wearing the right clothes is the first step in that direction.

So, I'll keep on running. I'll keep on not dressing up and I'll keep on doing these races until I can't anymore.

Don't forget to stretch,

Dena.

What is age...just a number, right?

So, something very funny happened yesterday. I think it was funny. One of the people I was with didn't think it was very funny.

I thought it was hysterical.

So, I was sitting outside with two friends who are older than me by say 20+ years (this is only important for the next thing that happened) and another woman was on her phone chatting annoyingly.

The next thing we knew, phone woman says, "there's some old people out here".

I sucked in air such that you would think that I took my last breath before I was to dive 100 feet into the water.

One of the other people I was with, uttered a curse word such that I won't write here except to say that it starts with F and rhymes with duck.

What was funny? What was funny is that we were the ONLY OTHER PEOPLE THERE!!

And, yes, I'm sure phone woman wasn't talking about me. And even if she was....

Now, my friend who was unhappy about being called "old" did eventually get over it (I sure hope they did!) but it got me to thinking...

What makes someone "old"?

Age? Aha says that age is only a number and it's not to be worried about or given any energy to.

Do I think my friends look old? (Must tread lightly here) No - but that takes me back to what old is.

If you're grey are you old? If so, I have a lot of OLD friends! ; )

If you have grandkids are you old?

My Grandpa Julie was old from the moment I was born. White hair, hunched over, smoker's hack --> OLD.

My Grandpa Milton was old but different. Dark hair, big smile but cranky sometimes. --> OLD.

Aha is 12 years older than me and let me tell you - I should look that good NOW!!! After what he's been through = brain abscess, seizure, more brain surgery, divorce, MS and he looks younger than most people we know.

I don't know what old is. Sometimes I feel really old. Sometimes I feel like I've been on this earth F.O.R.E.V.E.R.

And sometimes, I feel like I'm still learning how to be human.

Some people are old souls - you know, this isn't their first rodeo...I have a nephew #1 (on my side) who is a such an old soul - he came out looking like my grandpa julie.

Some people are new souls - this is someone who hasn't been around much - nephew #2 (on my side) is B.R.A.N.D. N.E.W. He is so funny - he's fearless and wants to know about everything. Blank slate.

I think I'm pretty old - Aha is way old (his soul I mean). Interesting.

Well - getting old chronologically is not as fun as I thought it'd be, but to be honest? I don't want to do the teen thing again so I'll take this. I've got awesome friends and family and the world's best husband.

So what could more could I really ask for?

Not much.

Love the one you're with,

d.

"Um, have you written a book?"

I was asked that question the other day. It was prefaced by the person saying, "I have an awkward question".

Only in Los Angeles is, "have you written a book" an awkward question. Well, maybe in New York too. But in most 'regular' places, "have you written a book?" would be met with, "a what?".

But here's the thing....

I do plan to write a book.

Or at least, I really want to write a book.

But am I really literary? Literate? Library? Oh wait...not library.

The thing is, as it turns out, I've lived through a lot in my mere closing-in-on-43-years. Aha and I are living with two GIANT things that individually would break up couples. Try having one spouse with a chronic disease that requires that they go on permanent disability and thus are not able to be the financial partner they (and you) planned and the two of you have to deal with unexplained infertility. Now there's a happy marriage! That's a couple that wake up every day with a smile on their faces, excited to face the day and who feel "normal" in every sense of the word.

If you believe that, I've got something to sell you that is invisible. A bridge, my sanity, hope, whatever.

But could that book, propel me into the stratosphere of public, dare I say ("dare! dare!") motivational (yick! I really dislike that word - how about empowering?) speaking?

Maybe it could. Maybe, just maybe, my method of survival (whatever that is, I wonder if it fits neatly into an acronym?) would be helpful to others? At the very least, it could be funny to them, thus giving them a moment of laughter, which frankly, if that did it? It would be worth the price of admission. I really would like that, speaking to large groups about how to stay empowered when the chips are down.

Way down..not down in the "oh-I-broke-a-nail-today-and-my-dog-pooped-in-the-house" kind of way.

Way way way down. So down that the chips are hitting you on the head because they have gone so far down they are above your head.

But what I'd really like to do is give them a sense of hope. A sense of that even though their reality hasn't gone as planned (Uncle A said it would be like this) that they will make it. That they're not alone.

Not alone is the key.

Hmmmmm food for thought.

Oh, food...what kind of food. Maybe each chapter could have food names!

Chapter 1 - Wheat

Chapter 2 - Flour

Chapter 3 - Cake

Well, it needs work.

I'll entertain all chapter suggestions and more importantly, ALL requests for speaking to groups. My fee will be commiserate with the size of the group and/or the subject. ; )

Next blog coming....duck.

d.

What can you do? You're doing it.

It's no secret that part of the reason I have this blog and that I am active on Facebook is that it is an outlet for me. You see, while I have a most fabulous husband (if you don't know about him, read other posts) he suffers from a disease that makes it difficult (and virtually impossible on some days) for him to communicate with me. Not in that way that he has no voice, but in that the words are spinning around in his brain and he can't seem to grab them and put them into a sentence to conversate with me. Now for those of you that are married or in committed relationships where you cohabitate, you can appreciate how important it is to be able to have conversations - small ones, large ones, important ones, silly ones - with your spouse/partner/whatever. Well, we're in a position where an outside force (Multiple Sclerosis) decided that we'd not get to have that as often as we'd like to. And when I say "not as often" I mean multiple days during a month, easily one day a week, often more.

So....

It turns out that this blog and Facebook serve a purpose that they didn't start out serving. I signed on to FB when my cousin's son sent me an invite many years ago. I thought that if this was something he was into, I would be into it too, simply to get to be part of his world. He was probably in early middle school at the time and I consider myself lucky that he has not only stayed 'friends' with me on FB, but that he and I still have a pretty good relationship, at least I hope we do. Yikes. I hope so. Anyway....

the point being that FB started out as a way to stay connected to my cousin's kids and my nieces, nephews, great nieces and great nephews. What it turned into was a way for me to stay connected to the outside world. Now I know most of you are thinking, that my being on FB is a humongous waste of time.

Not for me.

On those days where Aha is in the throws of a MS exacerbation, FB and this blog provide me the outlet and connection with the people in my fabulous circle of friends and family when I have no connection here.

So, was this what I was going to write about originally?

Nope.

Mourning was the topic I was going to talk about. I'll save that happy topic for the next day or so.

So when someone says to me, "What can I do?" when I'm despondent about Aha? For the most part, there's nothing anyone can do. No one can make him better. No one can give us back the parts that MS has taken away so, if you're witty on FB or read this blog and comment on it, thanks. : )

I just looked back thinking, "I've already written about this, right?" but couldn't find it. But if you can, try not to mention it. Really, is that necessary?

So...babbling aside, be careful before you bash social networking; it could just be helping someone you know. And maybe someone you know and love. I'm just sayin'.

See you in cyberspace.

D.

"I don't know, I can imagine a whole lot"

Here we are - another day and I'm 4 days in having been up at "holy-cow-I-mean-seriously-it's-too-freaking-early-to-be-doing-training-for-anyone" o'clock. But I complained about being tired the other day, so let's move on, shall we?

I am a Star Wars fan. Not the kind that has a costume to wear to the convention (which I've never been to and have no desire to attend) and not one, that if I'd had kids, would have named any of them: Luke, Leah, Chewie, Obi-Wan or Han.

I'm the kind of fan who could easily spend four days watching all six movies over and over and over and over in rapid succession.

Side note: I come from parents who don't understand the fascination of watching something over and over again; and with some things, I agree. For instance, I don't ever need to see The Hangover 2 or Bridesmaids again. They were both very funny and I laughed out loud in both, but not my over and over type. Similarly, watching The Manchurian Candidate or the Lord of the Rings trilogy isn't for me over and over again either. But for movies like Star Wars (and its 5 companions), Ghostbusters, Gone with the Wind, The Blues Brothers, Beverly Hills Cop, Stripes, Auntie Mame, Funny Girl, Godfather I, & II (I can only handle III every 10 years or so) and The Princess Bride I could spend the rest of my life watching them over and over again. It's fun, lucky for me Aha likes it too and it is something to do together. I can't understand why this bores others. Ah well, to each his/her own.

But back to the Star Wars sextet (heretofore known as SW) Now, it's true, I fought even liking the new first three, and maintained that the original three: Star Wars (now called A New Hope - what....ever...), The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi were the only "true" SW movies. I was even hesitant to own the new first three as I felt as if owning them would imply that I've moved over to the Dark Side (if you don't know what that is, why on earth are you reading this blog???? Go to Amazon.com IMMEDIATELY and purchase all 6 movies and watch them. Then you are allowed to come back and read my blog.) and accepted the new first 3 as the actual first 3 and thus lose my status as a true "original" SW fan.

Well, a few years ago, I bought gave in and bought SW III Revenge of the Sith because I thought, "well, it's an important movie because we learn how Anakin Skywalker becomes Darth Vader". And for a few years, that was it. We owned the "real 3" and then SW III RotS and I thought that was o.k.

Then I found that I was watching SWI-Star Wars & SWII-Attack of the Clones every single time it was shown (usually on Spike). It started to dawn on me that, maybe, just maybe, I'd converted...slightly.

And while there is a HUGE distance in storyline, characters, technology and culture between RotS and A New Hope (not to mention a MASSIVE leap of faith in the story) I may have been brought on board and trained in the ways of a tolerant SW fan.

Now, what is it about these movies that pulls me so. I can only think that for the final three (IV, V & VI) it's all about emotional attachment. I mean, think about it, if these were released today as they are now, they wouldn't survive. But in 1978 and on, they were AMAZING. Completely new technology in movie making. I was 10 when ANH came out and we saw it in the theater. It looked huge to me on the screen. We may even have seen it at the Cinerama Dome in Hollywood where it would have been the biggest movie screen anyone had ever seen thus far (far earlier then IMAX) and even more spectacular. It's not like all the characters in IV, V & VI are all that likeable; and poor Carrie Fisher - that hair and that bikini in RotJ. I think I knew those two things were wrong even then.

But, now, they serve a much different purpose for me. They are a calming force. When my life is particularly topsy turvie (when isn't it?) putting these movies on while I work, or am cooking or just zoning in bed or on the couch allows me to really check out (except for the working thing - SWIV is on now...). They allow me to go to a different place and forget what's happening in my real life. I get so into it that I get sad when Ani starts to move towards the Dark Side in SWII and in SWIII when he gets all charred and turns into DV, I am always amazed. While, the acting is a little over the top in all of the films, I don't care. I love them and by the time I die, I will have watched them a gigillion times and I'm really o.k. with it.

May the force be with you,

D.