Thursday, September 21, 2006
A funny trip down memory lane
A few years ago, we got together and performed at The Whiskey A Go-Go on the Sunset Strip for my friend Jo's birthday. Our band was called Spy Girl Run and this became the trailer for our pending documentary...
Behind These Livingroom Eyes
Last night was Jessie's White Trash denim birthday extravaganza. There were over eighty people who had RSVP'd that they would be there. It started at 8pm. It was this crazy straight saloon/sports bar/grill/ hole-in-the-wall in the valley. I got there at 7:45pm (which we all know that me being early NEVER happens) and around 8:25pm, I began to get nervous. I was sitting there in my all denim outfit (including my denim vest) and praying that the four other people in the bar wouldn't want to kick my ass (thank God I had left the bedazzled headband in the car). At 8:30pm I finally decided to text Jessie, "Are you coming to your party?" to which she promptly responded, "What party?"
I nearly had a heart attack. Everyone swung open the saloon doors five minutes later and we never stopped laughing. Once I caught my breath of course...
Sam and Aunt Mel. They both want me. I'm beginning to think, "Why not?"
One of these things is not like the other. Sober.
Is it me or does Brad look really short from that angle?
Dare us to take a bad photo.
Seriously, that was some GOOD cake!
JD's thought bubble, "click here to write your own in the comments section."
Shane wants to write songs with me. He's just too shy to ask.
Someone's got a new man and it isn't me!
She will kick your ass at pool!
I nearly had a heart attack. Everyone swung open the saloon doors five minutes later and we never stopped laughing. Once I caught my breath of course...
the birthday girl opening my card
Sam and Aunt Mel. They both want me. I'm beginning to think, "Why not?"
One of these things is not like the other. Sober.
Is it me or does Brad look really short from that angle?
Dare us to take a bad photo.
Seriously, that was some GOOD cake!
JD's thought bubble, "click here to write your own in the comments section."
Shane wants to write songs with me. He's just too shy to ask.
Someone's got a new man and it isn't me!
She will kick your ass at pool!
In memory of Maggie
Today would've been my friend Maggie's birthday. She was a woman who played a very influential role in my life and especially my childhood. To honor and remember her, I wanted to share the words I read at her service just a couple of years ago...
I would like to take the time to celebrate the life of a woman who felt there was no cause for her own celebration. A woman who thought of herself as a disappointment and a burden when the irony is- that as long as I live, Maggie has been and will always be one of the most important and influential women in my life.
I could not stand before you and speak had it not been for the confidence Maggie gifted to me in my youth.
I could not be living my dreams in Hollywood had Maggie not given me the comfort to cultivate my dreams during my youth.
I wouldn't have the innate sense to see the good in others, had Maggie not seen it in me, while teaching me to find it in others along my journey.
Recently I was watching an episode of Oprah of all things. Her producers had surprised her with a woman whom Oprah had always given credit for helping her believe in herself when she was a child. It was a charity benefit of some sort and the woman was the wife of the Governor. There was no cause for the woman's interaction with Oprah, but she sought out the then seven year old Oprah just to tell her how beautiful she was with her bee stung lips. Lips that Oprah had already learned to hate at seven because to her, they appeared large and swollen. Coupled with Oprah's poor surroundings and not so great family life, Oprah's self-esteem was already in question at seven years old. All until this elegant woman stepped in and selflessly gave Oprah a gift. A gift of feeling beautiful inside as well as out.
Well, I thought, "what a crock"! The episode felt contrived and the producers seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel to find new ways to try and humanize Oprah and boost ratings. I found it hard to believe that telling a little girl that her lips had been stung by bumble bees would empower her to become one of the most successful and richest women in history. I immediately deleted the episode and went back to more important programming like coverage of the Friends series finale.
It wasn't until the day I found out that Maggie had died that I realized just how spot on that episode had been. For Maggie had been my elegant lady who had filled my own empty heart with self-worth and love. It is no secret to many of you in this room that I didn't have the greatest upbringing. I lived in a world full of doubt, question and insecurity. Poverty of the worst kind, not only short on cash, but short on love. It was Maggie's inherent kindness that numbed my hurt.
It was the subtle things that Maggie did that taught me to be a better person. She taught me by example. Whether it be the time she took me to Tower Records and let me pick out a $5 pre-boob exposing Janet Jackson single, giving me a $20 bill to pay for it and letting me keep the change. Or having a dinner party with a house full of people and taking the time to pull me aside upstairs, away from the crowd, and asking me if everything was all right and how I was doing. Always asking me if I had written anything new for her to read, because she believed in my writing abilities. She believed in me. Simple gestures, lifetime affects. She was one of the first people I can remember in my life who recognized my childhood troubles. Who didn't think that I was just a rebellious teenager not getting along with my mother, but scratched beneath the surface to realize that I was emotionally not in a safe place. Perhaps in hindsight, she was seeing herself in me and rescuing me the way she had always craved to be rescued herself.
I have known Maggie my entire life. She was a pillar to my childhood. One of the few people I could count on to be reliable and consistent. She was more like a mother to me than my own. Her two daughters were what I had always imagined having sisters would be like. I still have my love for Bon Jovi all these years later because Jeannie made them out to be the coolest band ever, and what little boy doesn't want to be as cool as his big sister? She took us to see Lady and the Tramp when I was about 6. It is a memory so happy from my childhood that it is no surprise that it is still one of my all time favorite movies.
And Kim has always been so close to my heart, no matter how far distance or time keeps us apart, because although we had never discussed much, I always knew we were similar and it always gave me comfort in knowing I wasn't alone. It has made me proud knowing her the last twenty-some-odd years of my life. She inspires me still with her amazing husband and by being the best mom she knows how to be. A trait that she, without question, has learned from her own mother.
Maggie is a part of so many of my happiest childhood memories. Attending my school plays, graduation and any other milestone event that occurred for me, always cheering me on. She, Paul and Connie were the only people who could get my mother to spend the entire day making homemade Gnocchi or Ravioli. My mother's only requirement was that everyone be there and help. And so they would. Everyone would spend the entire day together in the kitchen. Laughing. Cooking. Drinking wine. That was what being a grown up was to me and I couldn't wait to become one. Every dinner party I throw today is upheld with Maggie's same standards, because that was the environment she created when she opened her home. Good food. Good laughter. Good times.
A story Maggie loved to tell was of the time I was about five and my mother had made two cheesecakes. One with blueberry topping, the other with strawberry. I was in charge of the strawberry. It rode in the car on my lap. I was so nervous as I carried it from the car to the porch. It was probably the most important task I had ever been given at that time. I made it all the way to the front door. My mother rang the doorbell. I stood there. "Don't drop the cheesecake", I could hear the voices in my head whispering. I stood there waiting, hanging onto the dish with my life. Maggie opened the door. There was no slow motion. In the blink of an eye, I had somehow missed the step and the cheesecake, strawberry topping and all went upside down and on the floor in the entry way. I was terrified inside. My mother would be furious. I was in trouble. I had ruined Maggie's fancy nice house and dinner party. I would be banned from ever coming back. Instead, Maggie just stood there and laughed. She laughed and laughed. And laughed every time she told that story for years later. Today is a day I would love to hear her tell it again. To hear her great, distinct laugh ringing in my ears.
I say that there is irony that we are here today, because Maggie felt she was in the way and not worthy, when in fact, she has touched me and all of us in this room with so much love and laughter, that I for one know that I have been and will always be forever changed by her grace, her heart and her kindness. And I can't wait to get on Oprah and tell her about my own lady who changed my life through words and understanding.
I would like to take the time to celebrate the life of a woman who felt there was no cause for her own celebration. A woman who thought of herself as a disappointment and a burden when the irony is- that as long as I live, Maggie has been and will always be one of the most important and influential women in my life.
I could not stand before you and speak had it not been for the confidence Maggie gifted to me in my youth.
I could not be living my dreams in Hollywood had Maggie not given me the comfort to cultivate my dreams during my youth.
I wouldn't have the innate sense to see the good in others, had Maggie not seen it in me, while teaching me to find it in others along my journey.
Recently I was watching an episode of Oprah of all things. Her producers had surprised her with a woman whom Oprah had always given credit for helping her believe in herself when she was a child. It was a charity benefit of some sort and the woman was the wife of the Governor. There was no cause for the woman's interaction with Oprah, but she sought out the then seven year old Oprah just to tell her how beautiful she was with her bee stung lips. Lips that Oprah had already learned to hate at seven because to her, they appeared large and swollen. Coupled with Oprah's poor surroundings and not so great family life, Oprah's self-esteem was already in question at seven years old. All until this elegant woman stepped in and selflessly gave Oprah a gift. A gift of feeling beautiful inside as well as out.
Well, I thought, "what a crock"! The episode felt contrived and the producers seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel to find new ways to try and humanize Oprah and boost ratings. I found it hard to believe that telling a little girl that her lips had been stung by bumble bees would empower her to become one of the most successful and richest women in history. I immediately deleted the episode and went back to more important programming like coverage of the Friends series finale.
It wasn't until the day I found out that Maggie had died that I realized just how spot on that episode had been. For Maggie had been my elegant lady who had filled my own empty heart with self-worth and love. It is no secret to many of you in this room that I didn't have the greatest upbringing. I lived in a world full of doubt, question and insecurity. Poverty of the worst kind, not only short on cash, but short on love. It was Maggie's inherent kindness that numbed my hurt.
It was the subtle things that Maggie did that taught me to be a better person. She taught me by example. Whether it be the time she took me to Tower Records and let me pick out a $5 pre-boob exposing Janet Jackson single, giving me a $20 bill to pay for it and letting me keep the change. Or having a dinner party with a house full of people and taking the time to pull me aside upstairs, away from the crowd, and asking me if everything was all right and how I was doing. Always asking me if I had written anything new for her to read, because she believed in my writing abilities. She believed in me. Simple gestures, lifetime affects. She was one of the first people I can remember in my life who recognized my childhood troubles. Who didn't think that I was just a rebellious teenager not getting along with my mother, but scratched beneath the surface to realize that I was emotionally not in a safe place. Perhaps in hindsight, she was seeing herself in me and rescuing me the way she had always craved to be rescued herself.
I have known Maggie my entire life. She was a pillar to my childhood. One of the few people I could count on to be reliable and consistent. She was more like a mother to me than my own. Her two daughters were what I had always imagined having sisters would be like. I still have my love for Bon Jovi all these years later because Jeannie made them out to be the coolest band ever, and what little boy doesn't want to be as cool as his big sister? She took us to see Lady and the Tramp when I was about 6. It is a memory so happy from my childhood that it is no surprise that it is still one of my all time favorite movies.
And Kim has always been so close to my heart, no matter how far distance or time keeps us apart, because although we had never discussed much, I always knew we were similar and it always gave me comfort in knowing I wasn't alone. It has made me proud knowing her the last twenty-some-odd years of my life. She inspires me still with her amazing husband and by being the best mom she knows how to be. A trait that she, without question, has learned from her own mother.
Maggie is a part of so many of my happiest childhood memories. Attending my school plays, graduation and any other milestone event that occurred for me, always cheering me on. She, Paul and Connie were the only people who could get my mother to spend the entire day making homemade Gnocchi or Ravioli. My mother's only requirement was that everyone be there and help. And so they would. Everyone would spend the entire day together in the kitchen. Laughing. Cooking. Drinking wine. That was what being a grown up was to me and I couldn't wait to become one. Every dinner party I throw today is upheld with Maggie's same standards, because that was the environment she created when she opened her home. Good food. Good laughter. Good times.
A story Maggie loved to tell was of the time I was about five and my mother had made two cheesecakes. One with blueberry topping, the other with strawberry. I was in charge of the strawberry. It rode in the car on my lap. I was so nervous as I carried it from the car to the porch. It was probably the most important task I had ever been given at that time. I made it all the way to the front door. My mother rang the doorbell. I stood there. "Don't drop the cheesecake", I could hear the voices in my head whispering. I stood there waiting, hanging onto the dish with my life. Maggie opened the door. There was no slow motion. In the blink of an eye, I had somehow missed the step and the cheesecake, strawberry topping and all went upside down and on the floor in the entry way. I was terrified inside. My mother would be furious. I was in trouble. I had ruined Maggie's fancy nice house and dinner party. I would be banned from ever coming back. Instead, Maggie just stood there and laughed. She laughed and laughed. And laughed every time she told that story for years later. Today is a day I would love to hear her tell it again. To hear her great, distinct laugh ringing in my ears.
I say that there is irony that we are here today, because Maggie felt she was in the way and not worthy, when in fact, she has touched me and all of us in this room with so much love and laughter, that I for one know that I have been and will always be forever changed by her grace, her heart and her kindness. And I can't wait to get on Oprah and tell her about my own lady who changed my life through words and understanding.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
God love the Daily Mirror...
Nope, not photoshopped. But they aren't talking about me, they are actually referring to her short new shag (which I believe is just a wig for her new video for Jump), but either way, it is a dream come true headline!And while I am on the subject, I would like to clear up something I posted the other day. I said Madonna is the one person I never want to meet. I can't believe how many tongues that has made wag, but it was also a good gauge to see just how many people are reading my little words I post here. Many thought that it was because I am finally over my Madonna love... but that couldn't be further from the truth.
Since the very early '90s, Madonna has been the one person I never wanted to meet, for the very reason that I don't want her to be humanized. She has been a pillar of support for me since my childhood and I owe a lot of my strength and success to her. Much the same way someone in say AA might turn to Jesus in their dark moments, I turned to Madonna at a very early age.
Now hold on a minute. Don't take that out of context. I am not calling Madonna Jesus or even calling her a religious figure. I am however saying that she was someone whom I could always count on when I was scared or feeling alone or weak. That moment you are in a dark alley talking to yourself and hoping you make it out safely, a Madonna song would drift through the air and remind me I would be fine if I believed it to be so. Not to mention the years I spent raising myself, I could always count on her for inspiration and exposure to things I may have never thought of or tried. Even if they were things I didn't like, she always taught me to question and try. And as much as I don't rely on her these days, I don't want that one thing taken away should I ever be stranded in that dark alley again.
She gets a bad rap for a lot of things and rarely credit for the good. But I have no shame in acknowledging all that she has meant to me. And now thanks to the Daily Mirror, I can see she feels the same!
xox
and thanks Ray for the pic!
Oh what a night.
It was a long night, but worth every second.
On Monday afternoon, I found out the Barenaked Ladies would be performing an intimate concert at the new Borders in the Century City Mall on Tuesday evening. Eric got there early and secured our place in line, but even by the time I got there, the crowd was still small and compact. It was a dream come true. The guys played a 45 minute set which included some treats from their back catalogue and selections from their new album. And the best part? They did it all about five feet in front of me! There was an old meme on here somewhere that listed the five people that I wanted to meet. It was a hard list to come up with as I have already met so many of my crushes and heroes. But now, I can cross off the delicious Ed Robertson. I told him I was his big gay fan for the night and he puckered up for the camera. He also told me about a Prince song on the Black Album where he says something about Bob. Note to self: must research this as he said it to me as a joke and I didn't get it (mostly because I was so tongue tied). But I did get this super pic:
Steve's voice is so amazing. I couldn't get a grip on his mood last night. He either didn't want to be there or has the most dry sense of humor ever. Either way, he was still hilarious and sounded terrific.
In between songs, the guys each read passages from random books. Ed was first up. He chose Word Freak and I not so accidentally caught it all on video.
On Monday afternoon, I found out the Barenaked Ladies would be performing an intimate concert at the new Borders in the Century City Mall on Tuesday evening. Eric got there early and secured our place in line, but even by the time I got there, the crowd was still small and compact. It was a dream come true. The guys played a 45 minute set which included some treats from their back catalogue and selections from their new album. And the best part? They did it all about five feet in front of me! There was an old meme on here somewhere that listed the five people that I wanted to meet. It was a hard list to come up with as I have already met so many of my crushes and heroes. But now, I can cross off the delicious Ed Robertson. I told him I was his big gay fan for the night and he puckered up for the camera. He also told me about a Prince song on the Black Album where he says something about Bob. Note to self: must research this as he said it to me as a joke and I didn't get it (mostly because I was so tongue tied). But I did get this super pic:
Steve's voice is so amazing. I couldn't get a grip on his mood last night. He either didn't want to be there or has the most dry sense of humor ever. Either way, he was still hilarious and sounded terrific.
Letting Your Light Shine
From today's Daily Om:
We are each born into this world with unique gifts. Within us is a glimmer of the divine, a light that can potentially make the world a more beautiful place. But in many, that light lies dormant, snuffed out by fears and feelings of inadequacy. To spark it is to attract attention, face the possibility of rejection or the responsibility of success, and risk being labeled immodest. Yet when we undermine the light by hiding our aptitudes and quashing our dreams, we deny ourselves and others a wealth of experiences. Your abilities are a part of who you are and when you take pride in them, you affirm the love, esteem, and trust with which you view yourself. Moreover, as you express the light within, you grant others permission to do the same, freeing them to explore their own talents.
For some, we are taught to hide our light from the world since childhood. Relatives caution us that the professions associated with our aptitudes are unattainable. Our peers may be envious of our skills and thus overly critical of the activities we instinctively enjoy. And authority figures admonish us to be humble and avoid showing off. But there is a vast chasm that separates those who let their light shine and those who seek only to draw attention to themselves. When you dare to share your light with the world, the beauty and perfection of your soul become clearly visible. You become a whole being-the literal embodiment of your vast potential. Whether you are a wonderful dancer, a first-rate cook, quick with numbers, or a natural negotiator, you'll come to understand that you do the world no favors when you hold yourself back.
If you have hidden your light for so long that it has shrunk to an ember, make a list of everything you do well, however impractical, silly, or seemingly inconsequential. Then ask yourself how you can positively utilize those abilities in your daily life. The gifts you were born with were not granted to you arbitrarily. While you may never discover what impact your light has had on others, you can be certain that when you embrace your talents and share them with others, you will spread illumination in the world.
Thanks Susanne!
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Think of Laura
I was reminded today of something I used to do. I'm just certain I should be embarrassed by my actions, but instead I feel an obligation to share with my head held high. I'm sure someday I will have my blog bound into a book and will appreciate it when my memory finally fades...I was about nine years old when Laura Spencer, yes that Laura Spencer of Luke and Laura fame, began her return to Port Charles. We all thought she was dead, but she had really been kidnapped by Stavros Cassadine and was living on his island. Well, somehow she escaped and came back to Port Charles, but couldn't let anyone know she was back until Stavros was captured (he had heavy mob ties). So for weeks, she would just be lurking in the background of every scene with her big sunglasses and a trench coat. Peeking around corners, but always remaining invisible.
I am sure I could cue a few violins and attack my childhood psyche and how I related to Laura because I too felt invisible, but I am not. I'm sure we could analyze the fact that in the pit of her stomach she knew everyone was going to be so excited to see her just as soon as she stopped having to hide and how deep down I believed and hoped for the same. But I'm not.
Instead, I will end my confession with the cold, hard, bizarre and twisted facts. Every day after school, I would run home and watch General Hospital. Remember, I was nine years old at the time. I didn't have any friends. No, seriously. None. And as soon as the show was over, I would run up to my mother's closet and grab her tan rain coat and her large sunglasses. Fortunately, since we were living in Washington, raincoats weren't such an odd site, but with the sunglasses on my face, I looked like a pre-cursor to Nicole Richie. I would spend hours lurking around our large apartment building. Making sure no one saw me. Peeking my head around corners. Evesdropping on the other children. Never being spotted. Always hoping someone was actually out looking for me. All the while Christopher Cross's Think Of Laura played loudly in my mind.
It is an absolute miracle I never required more therapy to become an adult.
Vote for my friend Willa on Dancing With the Stars!
Hello everyone! Let me start by saying thank you to those of you who voted last week, and to everyone else you HAVE to vote tonight and tomorrow.
Call from every phone line and vote online with every email address you have (you can vote 11 times per phone number and 11 times per email address)...my call in number for the rest of the competition is 1-800-868-3406!!!! Vote online at www.abc.com ...I have links on myspace and on my official site (check it out at www.willafordinc.com) - just updated with a new forum for you to join also (thanks to Audrey, Aline and Steph for getting it ready to be the official message board!).
So get to voting!- no matter how hard I rehearse and how well I do, without your votes you won't get to see me shake my thing! So please (yes I am begging) vote! I have stepped it up a notch and I am not messing around, I want to give you the best show I can in the short amount of time I have to learn such a foreign dance. Performing is everything to me and I want to get the chance to improve and learn as much as I can from my awesome partner, Max. I am very lucky not only because he's the hottest guy on the show (haha) but because he is the hardest working dancer and expects so much from me. I am in this to win and even though I was in the bottom 3 this week it only means victory will be that much sweeter! I will push harder now than ever before to show people what Willa Ford is made of and who she really is. Your love and support will drive me to the finish line! thank you, thank you, thank you!
Tonight's mambo is going to be hot...guaranteed!
xo Willa
Monday, September 18, 2006
Even MORE Big Brother 7
I couldn't believe it. The day Lance Bass came out, my website hit it's all time record for hits in one day: 1836. This past Saturday, word must've gotten out about my video I had shot at the Big Brother wrap party of Howie and Chicken George and their light saber duel, because my site received a whopping 5,865 hits! So, even though I said I was Big Brothered out, I present a new batch of photos from the wrap party and the after party at Geisha House. (thanks to my friend Mandy!)
Also, I would like to point out Alison's outfit. She could've worn just about any belt with that outfit, instead it looks like she is wearing an aluminum air filter! It drove me crazy all night.
Also, I would like to point out Alison's outfit. She could've worn just about any belt with that outfit, instead it looks like she is wearing an aluminum air filter! It drove me crazy all night.
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