My sordid history

I remember being 5 and wanting to be a surgeon like Hawkeye Pierce, then I wanted to be a Medical Examiner like Quincy, but I don't think I really understood I'd be working on Dead People. Quincy was more of a Medical Examiner/Private Investigator. He got to do some sleuthing. I don't think most MEs get to sleuth.

I wanted to be a zoologist for a really long time. I even have a book that a professor at MSU gave me. I had to write a letter to someone in the profession of my choice for a homework assignment. The professor wrote back with encouraging words and a book that I don't think I ever understood. Zoology lasted awhile in different incarnations. Jaws III brought a desire for Marine Biology with a focus in Mammology.

Apart from all being "ology" professions, I started to discover that I wanted to be all of these things based on a show I had seen. (I also wanted to be Wonder Woman for quite awhile.) It seemed  impossible to choose just one. So I decided to get into theatre.

Aside from the odd peck from a boy in 2nd grade, my first real kiss was also from my first real crush. His name was Scott. We were in 7th Grade and not only was he as tall as I was; he was as smart as I was too. At that age, I was just coming into my own. I had always been painfully shy especially around boys and because I was smart (well, at least I got really good grades and was more than a little precocious) I was also considered a bit of a dork. Seventh Grade was when I started to, as they say in Judy Bloom books, "blossom". My fellow students and I were just starting to go to dances, and have parties that didn't include balloons and those plastic number puzzles as favors. Our school was small. I think there were 50 students in the entire 7th grade class so we all were invited to the fun parties.

One party, the Scott on whom I didn't have a crush had a party at his swanky country club village house. We were playing Truth or Dare in the backyard and I was dared to kiss *gulp* My Great Crush Scott. I was terrified as I had never kissed a boy and didn't want to look like a dope that didn't know how to kiss. I also didn't want to let on that I liked him. That would be death! So I decided this would be short and sweet. I would be in and out and thinking of whom I might Truth or Dare next in no time. I leaned in and my heart was pounding. He leaned in. The crowd of 13 year old revelers were sitting cross-legged in a circle were watching.

Our lips touched. I could feel his breath. I was getting caught up.

NO! Wait...how long had I already been under this pre-teen heartthrob's spell? I hastily pulled away. I could feel my teeth lightly graze his tongue sending tiny shivers down my spine that I didn't at the time understand. I thought I had made it. I kissed My Crush and managed not to look like an ass! And then I heard him exclaim, "Ouch!  She bit my tongue!!"

From that moment on, I knew my love life was destined to be quirky. In that respect, at least, I have not been disappointed.

According to this quiz I took I am most compatible with the B'Hai faith. Although after seeing movies like "Practical Magic" and other movies that glorify it, I am drawn to the idea of the Wiccan faith. It's the only religion I can really think of that embraces women as being as close to God as, well, that other sex. Then again the movies always make everything look good.

I've recently heard of something called a green witch. Now that sounds intriguing...

My parents had taken me to KnottsBerry Farm while on a visit with some relatives. I was between seven and 10. While there we went to one of those cheesy shows. It was a pretty big concert at an outdoor amphitheatre type place on the park grounds. The type of show with canned music, supersized smiles and cheerleader-type choreography. A similar show today would play alot of Celine Dion and "Wind Beneath My Wings"; alot of sap for the sake of sap.

This show was enthralling to my 7 to 10 year old self. I sat as a statue, completely absorbing all I could. At one point, three black girls came out in their afros, and pink-sequined gowns. I couldn't imagine a finer trio of black girls anywhere. With bright pink lipstick against smooth black skin. They were singing the oohs and aahs of some favorite song of the fifties and I was in my 7-10 year old groove. At one point they emerged from the stage. Broke the fourth wall and brought their afros, pink sequins, oohs and aahs out to the audience. Encouraging people to sing along and sway to the music. One of these Bright Pink and Black Angels of the Knotsberry Theme Park came to me. Her face was dripping with sweat and makeup and I remember looking into eyes full of the dreams of fame. Eyes hidden, coated by sagging fake eyelashes covered with mascara. She brought her cordless mike to her bright pink lips and crooned, "ooh, ooh, ooh."

I was mesmerized and a little shocked when she brought the mike down to my slackened lips, not pursed, not smiling, relaxed in awe and wonderment. She wanted me to sing I discovered and just before she gave up hope and turned away disappointed, I did just that. "ooh.ooh.ooh". Thus a star was born. No, not a star. And maybe not born at all. It was at that moment I was knighted into the vocation. I dub the an actor, a singer, an artist. I pulled the sword out of the rock and I have been fighting the good fight ever since.