In memory of the lives lost in Newtown, Connecticut on 12/14/2012

If you have watched a second of news, turned on the radio once, been on Facebook for more than a minute, or talked with one other person in the last three days, then you have undoubtedly heard about the terrible tragedy that took place Friday morning in the small community of Newtown, CT.

What happened is unspeakable, and something that no one in their right mind would ever do.  I won't say the name of the killer or tell you anything about that person, because I feel that the "glory" of infamy should not be rewarded for what that person has done.

Twenty six people are dead now.  Most of them were kids, no older than seven.  Their whole lives were ahead of them, cut unfairly short.  Though I don't have any children of my own yet, I have seven nieces and nephews with one more on the way; I don't know how I would cope if it had been any of them.

The brave adults did their best to shield and protect the children, several giving up their own lives to save the lives of their students.  What they did was selfless and incredible, and their sacrifice will never be forgotten.

The media has plastered the killer's name everywhere, but I refuse to do so.  It is a name I have heard but will never repeat.  The following names are the ones I want to honor, to remember, to pray for, to think about.  Their birthdays go to show just how young they were.  These are the innocent, the ones we mourn for and hold in our hearts:

Charlotte Bacon, 2/22/06

Daniel Barden, 9/25/05

Rachel Davino, 7/17/83

Olivia Engel, 7/18/06

Josephine Gay, 12/11/05

Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 04/04/06

Dylan Hockley, 3/8/06

Dawn Hochsprung, 06/28/60

Madeleine F. Hsu, 7/10/06

Catherine V. Hubbard, 6/08/06

Chase Kowalski, 10/31/05

Jesse Lewis, 6/30/06

James Mattioli , 3/22/06

Grace McDonnell, 12/04/05

Anne Marie Murphy, 07/25/60

Emilie Parker, 5/12/06

Jack Pinto, 5/06/06

Noah Pozner, 11/20/06

Caroline Previdi, 9/07/06

Jessica Rekos, 5/10/06

Avielle Richman, 10/17/06

Lauren Rousseau, 6/1982

Mary Sherlach, 2/11/56

Victoria Soto, 11/04/85

Benjamin Wheeler, 9/12/06

Allison N. Wyatt, 7/03/06

There is nothing that would take away the pain from the families of the fallen.  Some wounds will never heal; people just learn to live with the pain.

My thoughts, heart, and prayers are with those affected by this.

In Memory of Those Who Died in Aurora, Colorado, at the showing of The Dark Knight Rises

Danny and I went and saw The Dark Knight Rises on Saturday.  It was awesome!  I saw the teaser trailer a while ago, but I hadn't seen any other trailers before seeing the film, so I didn't have many expectations when I walked in the theater.  It was great, I would love to see it again.  (And if I looked like Anne Hathaway, I would wear that cat suit every day!)

When we got to the theater it was about 15 minutes before the 1:00 showing.  We figured we'd get in to the one after that, which was at 2:35; we expected to be at the theater for at least an hour before seeing the movie since it was opening weekend of one of the most anticipated movies of the year.  However, when we went up to the box office the employee informed us that there was still plenty of room in the showing that started in just fifteen minutes; out of 300 seats, only about 50 had been sold.

We were a little surprised.  Then we realized the reason it must have been so barren: the tragedy in Aurora, Colorado.

It's hard to put into words the feelings that come from hearing about this terrible event.  Senseless violence and murder are something I can never wrap my head around.  I just can't understand why someone would want to inflict that kind of pain on another living person.

When the movie started, I was imagining what it must have been like for them: sitting there, enjoying an evening with friends and about to see a film I'm sure they were all looking forward to, when someone comes in and starts shooting.  These were people with hopes, dreams, families, expectations, goals, and so much ahead of them, and it was all taken away in the blink of an eye.  My heart goes out to the victims, their families, friends, and the survivors from the theater.

One time, in a group of friends, someone asked us all what we would do if we only had two minutes left to live.  Most people responded with things like "fight to the death so I can live!" and "call 9-1-1!" and asked questions like "what am I dying from? Can I find a cure before I die?  Am I close to a hospital?"  My response was simple: "If I had just a few minutes left to live, I would think of all the things that made me happy."


In the wake of this shocking catastrophe, there have been a lot of people calling for stricter gun laws and more government control.  People are throwing out statistics about how many gun-related deaths there are every year.  The truth is, getting rid of guns won't be what makes the difference.  They're simply a tool, not the mastermind behind the crime.  If a person wants to inflict harm on another, they're not going to just say "Hmm, I don't have a gun.  Oh well, guess I can't do anything to hurt them."  They'll find other means; they'll use another tool.  Tighter gun laws isn't going to change how people feel, and it isn't going to stop violence- it'll just make it so that the only people who have guns are the ones who acquire them illegally.

To back up my statement there, consider this: when alcohol was illegal during the Prohibition (1920-1933), it is estimated that alcohol consumption remained at about 60%-70% of what it was pre-Prohibition (source).  That means that out of 100 people who drank alcohol before the Prohibition, there was around 70 who still regularly consumed alcohol while it was illegal.  That's just an estimation, so it's likely that it could be higher.  Take a look at marijuana: it's illegal (a few states allow it for medicinal purposes only, but no state allows it for recreational use), and yet it's estimated that almost half of the population uses it regularly.  If people want something, legal or not, they can get it.

So what's the solution?  I'm not sure, really.  The easy answer is that the solution to violence is love and kindness, but I have no idea how to implement that on a national scale.  Maybe the solution is to just do what we can as individuals to show kindness to all others; kindness is contagious, and it spreads fast.

Of course, some people, like James Holmes, just aren't stable.  No person in their right mind would do such a thing to other people.

My heart and thoughts go out to all affected by this.

Goodbye, Ken. You'll be greatly missed.

There is really no black-and-white to life.  There's no hard and fast rules that are universally followed.  There's no determining the reason things happen sometimes.

Two weeks ago, a friend of mine passed away.  He was young (only 43) and had a lot of life still ahead of him.

I never met Ken in real life, but I had come to know him on Twitter over the last few years.  He had a knack for making people laugh, getting people motivated, and just enjoying his space in the Twitterverse.  Everyone who knew him on Twitter counted him as a friend; that's just how he was.  We friended each other on FaceBook and emailed about acting from time to time.  He was always there to offer some advice, encouragement, or make a quick joke to liven the mood.  Even though I had never shook his hand, I would often forget that I had only ever met him electronically.

It's interesting how you can come to know people without meeting them face-to-face.  I've got a few friends I've known via the Internet that I've never met face-to-face, and they're still dear friends to me.

What's strange is how out-of-nowhere this appears to be.  Ken was very healthy; often he would Tweet about going to the gym, improving his workout, and staying active.  So why is it we lost him at such at young age?  There's no way to tell the reasons, or even if there really is one.  Sometimes we just have to be okay with not knowing the answers.

It really makes you think of taking a hold of your destiny.  Who knows why some people smoke, drink, are jerks and live to be 98 years old while others who take good care of themselves and are greatly compassionate live to only 21 years old.  Where's the reason?  Where's the fairness?  That's one of the things that makes life exciting and beautiful- it's completely unpredictable, and we're here to enjoy the ride to the fullest and spread love and joy to others as best we can.

We don't have a choice of how old we will live to be.  We can prolong our lives by taking care of our health, but that doesn't prevent accidents and other things from happening.  (Not that I'm saying we should disregard our health- being healthy is the best way to enjoy life!)  What we can control is what we do with our life, what we make of ourselves, how we treat others, and how happy we are.

Happiness isn't in the circumstances; it's in the heart.  It's a conscious choice, and one that many ignore when they constantly want more or look at the negative side of life.  I forget what it was I was watching, but there was a man who had been in a serious accident and lost his leg below the knee.  He said "I can look at this one of two ways: I can be bitter because I almost died and lost my leg, or I can be grateful because I survived and only lost a leg."

There's a boldness is not adhering to what is expected of you and taking the easy route in life.  So many people just fall into what they think they're supposed to do and float through life instead of taking risks and going for their dreams.  Why?  There is no do-overs, no second chances; you only get to live this life once.  There's an audacity in saying "You know what?  I don't want to have this steady job where I work 9 to 5 in an office and get a paycheck every week from something mundane and boring.  I'm passionate about painting and sculpting- I'm going to do that, and I'm going to make a living doing it!"

When I realized I wanted to be a writer and an actress, it didn't take long to realize I had fallen in love with two of the hardest professions there are to be successful at.  Millions and millions of people want to be writers; millions and millions of people want to be actors; few actually get to make one or the other their life's work, and here I am trying to do BOTH in the long run.  Wanting two careers that are so difficult and with such slim odds of success is probably the scariest thing I've ever done (and I've been skydiving)!  Maybe I'm a fool, but at least I get a sense of fulfillment every day.  When my time comes, I want to look back and saw how awesome my life was, how much fun I had, and that I took every chance I got to share love with others.

We spend so much time worrying about things that we forget to do what makes us happy.   Ken always seemed so happy, so positive, so excited about everything, and so willing to spread those feelings.  People like him, who radiate genuine positivity, are hard to come by.

What do you love to do?  Are you doing it, or pursuing routes to be able to do it?  If not, why?  If not now, then when?

Life is beautiful, and your time is a limited edition.  Spend it wisely!

"It's not the years in your life that count; it's the life in your years."

-Abraham Lincoln

Always A Work In Progress

I don't know why, but lately I've been very reflective.  Frequently, I find myself attempting to gain more knowledge and a better understanding of the human experience.  (I've been like this as long as I can remember, and I think it's been very beneficial.)  Maybe it's a mental Spring-Cleaning of sorts, or maybe it's just the fact that there's been so much going on lately, but whatever it is, I'm craving knowledge and enlightenment on a deeper level than I have in a while.

But no matter how long I live, I will never know everything there is to know, do everything there is to do, see everything there is to see, taste everything there is to taste, read everything there is to read, or meet everyone there is to meet, even if I were to (somehow) live to be 500 years old.  It may sound kind of sad and limited, but it's actually quite the opposite- there is always going to be something new for me to do, see, read, experience, etc.  We will never run out of things that we haven't experienced yet, no matter how much we fit in to each day or how many days we're alive on this earth.

That is why it is okay to not know something, and it took me a while to realize that.  I don't have to have the answer to every question, I don't have to know about everything (and no one ever will know everything in this life), and I don't have to have done everything.  It takes a lot of pressure off when you realize that you don't have to always be right and always know.  If we ever did get to the point where we had done, learned, completed, experienced, and saw absolutely everything, it would mean this earth is a lot more simple than we thought, and it is very much not.  Besides, if we were able to get to that point, I think we'd eventually just say "Well, I've done and seen and learned it all.  Nothing left for me to do with the rest of my life but sit here and twiddle my thumbs."  BORING!

Life is so incredible, and so endlessly beautiful and astounding.  Maybe I believe that to a naive degree, but it keeps me positive and happy and always open to new ideas, knowledge, and experiences.  I've have gone through tragedy, heartbreak, judgment, hardships, and  have seen things that I hope other people are never forced to see, and yet I always come out of it a little wiser and more appreciative of what I do have.  Those things, sorrowful as they can be, are a part of the richness and vastness of human existence.  At some point or another, we will all experience the positive and negative aspects of life.

Whether they're big or little, life experiences make us who we are.  We are a work in progress up until the last breath we take, and maybe even after that.  We all have infinite amounts of growth potential, no matter how smart, experienced, wise, kind, or compassionate we already are.  There is always room for improvement, and even though some people see it as a burden, the fact that we always have the capacity for growth is an incredible blessing.

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger, Pt. 1- Deal and Heal

People are often underestimated.  A lot of the time, it seems that no one underestimates a person more than that specific person- I believe know from experience and observation that it is frequently quite surprising what we can handle.

We never really know what we will be able to handle or how we will handle something until it actually happens.  We can think about it, come up with a plan, and prepare ourselves as best we can, but until it really happens we won't know how we will feel about it.

All of us have a different tolerance level for pain, and I feel this applies just as much (if not more) emotionally as it does physically.  On the pain scale, one person's 10 may be another person's 3.  Some people can go through the most unimaginable tragedies and still pick themselves up and move on, while others may experience something that most people would consider "less tragic" and not be able to go on at all.  To the two varying individuals, two very different events may hold the same amount of tragedy- it's unique and personal how we feel different things.

But we really have no place to judge the scale of tragedy in another person's life, because we all feel and handle things so differently.  Even if it's the same event, in the same family, people handle it differently, and there's no right or wrong way.  Some people may begin healing after a few weeks, some may take decades before they feel they've "moved on" from the event.

Hardships and tragedies are a fact of life.  All us experience a multitude of them throughout our lives, and there's no real "rules" for dealing with them.  Society, in general, tells us that there is a right and wrong way of handling things, that there's a certain time allotment for grieving and healing, and that at some point we should go on and return to "normal."  But after tragedies and hardships, what once was "normal" will never be again.  We adapt and come to a new normal, and usually a little tougher and wiser from the experience, and there's no right or wrong way of dealing and healing.  What may work for one person may do nothing for another.  Few people will get to the point where they can act like their hardships never happened, and we shouldn't forget what we've gone through to get where we are now.

But even though we experience tragedy, our life does not have to completely become a tragedy.  We don't have to let the hardships we've survived through completely dictate and define us, nor do they have to become our sole identities.  Yes, they do become a part of who we are, but they don't have to take down the rest of our life.

Think of the phrase "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."  Is it true?  Yes and no.  I believe that whether we are strengthened or weakened by our hardships and tragedies is a choice we make.  It's harder for some people than others, but always possible.  Those hardships will never leave us, but we can turn the pain into power.  Open wounds turn into scabs.  Scabs will bleed when picked at and may even reopen, but eventually those scabs will turn into scars.  Those scars will probably be sore and huge for a while, but eventually they'll fade into our skin, where they will be a visual reminder of what we went through and survived.

We may never "get over" some tragedies, but we can learn to help them heal and learn to live with them.  Even if the pain never goes away, we can learn how to dull it.  We can make room for happiness again.




Check out this post.  I don't agree completely with all of it, but it's pretty interesting and insightful: "I will gladly deny myself unnecessary suffering, so I can avoid the greater tragedy of living in denial of joy."

As one life ends, so another begins...

About an hour after I posted that most recent entry, my Grandpa Dick passed away.  He was an amazing, loving man who will be greatly missed by everyone who knew him.

Friday morning, my parents, sister, Danny, my aunt Jo, and my cousin Adam all got in a rental van and drove out to Arizona, where Grandpa Dick and Grandma Anne live.  It was a seven-hour drive, including stops.  When we got there, we got to see most of Grandpa Dick's children whom we hadn't seen since Grandma Anne and Grandpa Dick got married 24 years ago.  (He was my Grandma Anne's second husband, so technically step-Grandfather, but I never thought of him as anything other than grandpa; I knew him much more than I knew my biological paternal grandfather.)  The service was on Saturday, and it was a very nice Catholic mass honoring Grandpa Dick.

About five hours after Grandpa Dick passed, my nephew was born.  Solomon Michael DiSalvo came into the world at 8:26pm on March 1st.  Danny and I got to go see him Friday morning before we left for Arizona, and I'm already in love with that kid.

Thursday was quite an emotional day.  At some points, I didn't know how to feel- so very sad to lose my grandpa, but incredibly elated that my nephew had finally arrived.  I wish I could put the myriad of mixed emotions into words- it's like a swirlled finger painting of drastically different colors.

Life is precious- never forget that.