-- 'It came together from watching a lot of The O.C. and Laguna Beach,' Messe says with a laugh. 'My wife is a fan of those shows, and I would watch them with her. Every time I would watch those shows, I felt like after the show was over, I would feel a little less satisfied with my life. I would feel my world was more black and white, and I would feel poor and fat. I wanted to reject that,' he continues. 'I feel we're incredibly lucky both as a band and as people, and yet we're still able to fall prey to the way the media romanticizes certain wealth and privilege. For me, it had a way of making me feel bad about my life. The line 'And I'm the one who wants to be with you tonight...,' I'm talking about my wife and my life. That soft-focused consumerism shown on those shows maybe isn't the most healthy thing to aspire to when real life can be pretty sweet and magical.'"
Last night I made my way up and out of Orange County to go see Mysterious Skin, written by Prince Gomolvilas now enjoying it's Los Angeles premiere at East West Players. ***Note: I am not a reviewer. I am not a critic. (I married one, which is why I can say with confidence, I am not this. If you want real reviews of Mysterious Skin you'll have to look to other publications wise enough to have send their press in to cover this show now running at East West Players.) Me? Currently, I am just an Orange County mom who loves theater almost as much as she loves writing. (True, I used to act, but now I just "mom." And I write. But, again to clarify: Not a critic.) And these her blogged thoughts are just my day-after impressions after having seen some great theater in Los Angeles last night. I have to say, I was in a hurry. I had my kids to juggle, too pick up from their schools...Dance classes, etc. Hustling them home (interesting choice of words, in r
Especially when those paths go back even farther than high school. I think he and I were butting heads as far back as elementary school! If my memory serves me right, Schaeffer and I ended up, briefly, in the Guilford Central School together. Fall 1968. Yep. I was a newly transplated girl from New Orleans dropped unceremoniously into a tiny, extremely humble elementary school out in the boondocks of southern Vermont. I had NO idea what the hell I was doing there and was suffering my own case of "Other-itis." I In my case, as an only child of often charming, but highly eccentric parents, my wild ride hit some very bumpy patches, More on that later. Back to Eric: See as a newcomer that year to Vermont from New Orleans I had an accent. I wore dresses and probably continuing too make my parents happy by literally curtseying to the adults they trotted me out to meet. Politely. Of course. That was my job. I can promise you, however, once you curtsy to a farmer, y
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