Compassion for the Every-man

Sometimes, without even meaning to, I feel things for people I don't even know and for people who no one I know even knows.

A few weeks ago, I watched a good actress take on a very bad part. I couldn't help but cringe thinking, did she really think she was doing great? (And, as a horrible actress myself, I can tell you that, yes, we really do think we are that great when we are not. It took a very strong person to tell me, 'You know, maybe you weren't meant to be on a 50 foot screen.' I didn't listen until years - and many memorable stage messups - later. And I'm still trying to get back into it. I don't care if I'm not that good. It's a sickness!)

Today? I feel sorry for people who used to date the models used in picture frames.

Imagine this: falling in love, breaking up and working so hard to get past the spoon-stays-in-the-ice-cream-call-your-friends-at-four-am stage. Then, you're blissfully walking through Hobby Lobby, searching for that perfect frame for your nephew's second birthday party pictures and WHAM! There is your ex, staring at you from every frame (except the ones that say SISTERS or GRANDMA), his arms around some equally beautiful human being, smiling as if life has never been more grand.

That'll set you back months.