Note from Wil: You can read Anne’s Previous Entries here and here.
For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been on an emotional and physical roller coaster. Several times I have wanted to write about how Kris is doing, but there just hasn’t been time. The day after my last post I went to see Kris at City of Hope to check on her after her stem cell transplant and meet a friend to donate platelets together.
I walked into Kris’s room just minutes after she received her transplant. I had no idea how it was done. But it’s just like receiving a blood transfusion. And for some reason, it smells like garlic through your skin. So I walked into a room that smelled like she just enjoyed Chinese food for lunch. Although I like the smell of Chinese food, I’d been fighting off a huge headache all day so it was a little unsettling.
The stem cells they harvested from Kris had been frozen until she finished her chemo and radiation and was ready to receive the transfusion. Then they do a “flash defrost” and donate them back to her. They were able to get two bags of cells from her so that’s what they gave back. They were still a little cold and lowered her body temperature one degree and gave her a huge headache, along with a big wave of nausea. But she made it through. Next was the anticipated sickness and pain she was told she would experience because of all the chemo and radiation she got. It was all done so fast that her body wouldn’t catch up to it for a few days. Well, it definitely did.
She spent the past two weeks dealing with major stomach and intestinal issues. Her mouth, throat, stomach and intestines were full of open sores. Her tongue looked like it had been badly burned; almost like parts of it were missing. She could barely open her mouth to talk. She was losing the hair she had been growing back. It was terrible to see her going through all this. But she remained optimistic. Always asking me how our training was going. How the donations were. Making plans to come to San Diego to see us cross the finish line.
While Kris was dealing with all this, I wanted to continue to do everything I could to help. I went in to donate platelets to her the day of her transfusion. Unfortunately, my huge headache stood in the way of them wanting to do it. They told me that if I already didn’t feel that well, I’d only feel worse afterwards, so I should just reschedule. I was really disappointed, but I was feeling a bit nauseaus because of my headache, so that was probably the best decision. I rescheduled for that Wednesday.
I was very excited to show up for my appointment. My headache was gone and I was feeling great. They took blood from my left arm to make sure my iron level was alright, then hooked me up on my right arm. If you’ve never done this before, (that would be me) the needle is attached to a tube that’s split in half. The blood comes out in one tube, goes through a machine to separate the platelets, then goes back into you in the other tube. It’s amazing to me that they’ve figured out how to do this. Kris said this is the same way they got her stem cells. I asked the nurse why they can’t just do the same thing to separate the cancer out of the blood. She said it really is amazing how far they’ve come in research, but at the same time be so limited. I told her we were doing this marathon to raise money for research. She thought it was a great idea and that stem cell research really needed more attention. I agreed.
I got started donating platelets, even asking the nurse to take my picture for the website. But about 15 minutes into it, my vein wasn’t too happy with the pressure of the blood coming back in. It was causing a big lump and the needle had to be removed. They would try on my left arm. They had commented after my blood test that I was a great candidate for donating platelets (average count is 150 to 350, mine was 358). Unfortuately, those great platelets were making it impossible for them to go back into my left arm vein for anything. So again, I had to reschedule. But it had to be at least five days away because I would have big time bruising (boy were they right about that!). My next try would have me hooked up with both arms. One side to take the blood, the other side to receive it back. I was bummed, but determined to help Kris, so I came back five days later.
Again, I showed up. Excited to help, a little nervous that it wouldn’t work. But I figured it would all be fine. I filled out the wierd questionairre again (“have you had sex with a man who’s had sex with another drug using man since 1977?” What? Yea, I was in second grade in 1977. But I know they have to be cautious.). The nurses recognized me because now I was on round three. They hooked me up on my right arm to receive the blood back. Then, they hooked up my left arm to take the blood. Everything was good! Veins were looking great! Just start the machine!
Immediately, the machine beeped: “access point pressure low”.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means the machine is having a hard time sucking the blood from your vein.” She called another nurse over to fidget with the needle and see if it would change. It beeped again. She moved the needle around again. More beeping. She decided to pull the needle part way out and re-stick my vein. Well, the first four times she did this, it was alright, but after the fifth and sixth time, it was really hurting. I didn’t want to complain. After all, what’s a little bruising compared to what Kris is going through?
“Your veins just don’t want to do this.” the nurse said. “It’s more common in women than men. You just can’t donate platelets. Sorry.” She sent me on my way with an icepack for the HUGE lump and bruise I would grow over the next hour. So again, vein failure.
Fortunately, my friend Amy, who I met through this whole marathon experience, has successfully donated platelets, and had several friends do the same. So even though it didn’t come directly from me, Kris still got her much needed platelets. Thanks Amy!
So I’ve been walking like crazy (when it’s not raining), and visiting Kris as much as possible. I talked to Kris on the phone Monday since I couldn’t get in to see her. She said they had taken her off of one of her medications, and may take her off another one on Tuesday. The thing is, Kris has been hooked up to a million tubes and bags. Actually, more like eight or so. So weaning her off all those things was a good sign. Her white cell count was going up. That meant she was able to fight off infection. She was really worried about getting pneumonia. (Her friend went through the same ordeal a year and a half ago. She even donated platelets for him. He made it through all of his treatment and his transplant. Unfortunately, he got chemical pneumonia from the radiation and died.) She made sure she got lung plates to cover her lungs during her radiation. So I’m sure that won’t be a problem for her. She said her doctor was hoping to have her home by the weekend! I was so excited for her, and very motivated. I walked fifteen miles over the past two days, constantly thinking about how great it will be for Kris to be home.
I was out running errands today when I called Kris’s cell phone. She always leaves it on, right next to her bed. It rang and rang, then the voice mail picked up.
“It’s me. I’m out running errands and I wanted to come by and visit. Just wanted to call and make sure you’re feeling ok before I come in. Call me back!”
Kris has been feeling pretty pukey, so I didn’t want to show up if that was going on. She has wanted me to call her first in case she wasn’t up for visitors.
About five minutes later, my phone rang. It was Kris.
“I didn’t answer my phone because I was talking to my doctor.” She said.
“Oh? And what does your doctor have to say?” I asked.
“He said I can go home at 4:00!”
“Today?” I yelled. “Oh my god! I can’t believe you can go home!!”
Her white count was up. She was off all her medication. No more pukey. She was ready to go home.
“Does Taylor know?” I asked. (that’s her son).
“NO! I called you as soon as the doctor left!”
She made it.
She’s going home.
I am so happy. So happy I went out and walked two more miles.
I called her at home a few minutes ago. The radiation caused blisters on her hands and feet. It hurts her feet to walk. But she’s walking in her own house.
All the great emails and mojo worked. Her positive outlook definitely got her through this much quicker than I ever thought. I can’t wait to go see her at home tomorrow.
Thank you so much for all of your support. I know it made all the difference!

Yesterday, I taped another Best Week Ever, which will air this Friday. I had a wonderful time. I made myself laugh, and I made everyone else at the taping laugh. I really hope that I get to be a more regular part of that show, because it’s so much fun.
But check out This totally cool thing that happened in the parking garage when I was waiting for the elevator:
I gave my ID to the security guard and told him I was going to tape Best Week Ever. While he signed me in, the elevator doors opened, and a really cute girl walked out. (I only mention that she was really cute because . . . let’s face it, I’m a guy, and guys notice these things.)
She looked right at me and said, “I love your website.” She said it simply, and matter-of-factly,
I felt like I’d just won a million dollars, man. I didn’t even know what to say, so I just said, “Thank you so much!”
She walked past me and the security guard, and disappeared into the garage.
I felt like I was in this bubble of joy, where the rest of the world didn’t exist. She didn’t say that she liked this movie I did twenty years ago, or this TV show that I did fifteen years ago. She didn’t even say “You know, I don’t think Python sucked that bad . . .” She said that she loved my website, this thing that I’m doing now. Like I mentioned last week, I haven’t done much in the acting world over the last few years that I’m proud of . . . but I’m very proud of my website.
Is it okay to say that? I don’t want to come off as a dick, and I’m keenly aware of the Pride coming before the Fall . . . but I really do like what I’ve been able to do here.
My whole life I wanted to write, but I never did because I thought I was supposed to be an actor. But every morning, I get up, drink way too much coffee, and spend the next three or four hours doing what I love: I work on Just A Geek, or I write something for my website, or something for ACME . . . most of the stuff I write I don’t even publish. I just do it so I write every day . . . and it rules. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s utter crap, most of the time it’s just sort of there . . . but it’s mine, and when that girl said that she loved my website, I felt like I could own the joy her comments brought me, because what you read here is really me. I’m not playing a character, or trying to make a shitty script into something worth watching . . . I’m creating images and recreating scenes from my life, without a director or a producer or a studio getting between what I want to create and what the audience gets to see.
If I stare at this much longer, I’m going to lose my nerve and not publish it, so I’ll just say: If I wasn’t writing, I’d be a nervous wreck right now, waiting for feedback from that audition, and freaking out about why they aren’t calling back . . . but I’ve got other stuff going on now.
A few days ago, I bought the 2004 Writer’s Market, because I’m going to face my fears of rejection and see if some magazines or anthologies are interested in publishing some of my stories. I never would have even dreamed about doing that last year, but you guys who read this site have given me so much support and encouragement, and O’Reilly is so excited about Dancing Barefoot, it seems like the risk is justified. I don’t want to get too excited about stuff that hasn’t happened yet, but I’m happy right now.
I guess that’s what this post is about: I’m really happy right now. It feels like some of the risks I’ve taken in the last few years are starting to pay off, and I wanted to share that with anyone who reads WWdN, because without you guys, none of this would be happening.

I just got hellabusy, so I know that if I wait until I have the time and focus to write all about my audition I’ll never do it, so I’ll just hit some of the highlights, because I think there are 10 readers scattered across the ‘net who really want to know:

• I haven’t gotten any feedback, so I don’t know what they thought. Usually, if they like what I did, I get a call the same day, or (at the latest,) the next working day. It’s been two days, and I haven’t heard anything, so I am pretty sure they didn’t like what I did, or found someone else who they like more.
• The character description was “uptight conservative,” but the script seemed to contradict that. My take on this guy is that he was just a tool. He was trying really hard to be cool, and overcompensated like crazy. He calls everyone “dude,” “bro” and “hombre,” and gets really excited to put on his Creed CD . . . which I thought was extremely funny. I played him very big. Maybe a little TOO big. Normally, if they are interested in me, I’ll get a little direction if I go too big or not big enough, but I didn’t get any of that. Which means I was right-on, or I was so far off it wasn’t worth their time.
• I had a really good time. Everyone in the room was actually quite nice, except for the guy who was really put out that I didn’t bring in a resume (I thought they already had one,) and they all laughed very hard at all my ad-libs. There’s a difference between “laugh track” laughter, and genuine “oh wow! I wasn’t expecting that and it amused me” laughter, and I felt like there was much more of the latter than the former.
• I got to see my friend Maureen there. Seeing people I like when I’m on auditions is always a good time.
• Unless I am totally off, I made a good impression on the casting people, which means they’ll consider me again for other roles.

Sorry that it’s not the cool narrative style I wanted to use for the report, but I gotta work on Just A Geek so I can turn it in by the end of the month.
It rules the MOST that so many people shared encouragement and stuff, and I wish I had something more definitive to report . . . but this not-knowing is a BIG part of being an actor, so you get to share that with me instead. I’ll post more details when I have them. 🙂

Darin and I stood in Old Town, on the corner of DeLacy and Green. It was a magnificent night: eighty degrees, clear skies, the slightest breeze stirring the young leaves on the trees behind us.
The whole area was packed with people who were taking advantage of the unseasonably warm March evening: families and young couples crowded the sidewalks, as a nearly-full moon slowly climbed the Eastern sky.
“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?” I said.
“Getting the tires changed on my Jeep.”
“Want to get together and have a cigar? I haven’t had a smoke in months, and I’d like to celebrate the release of my book.”
“Sure. How’s the afternoon sound?”
“Perfect! I’ll write in the morning, and then we can goof off later in the day.”
We jumped out of the way as several little kids flew around us, their bemused parents half a block behind them.
“Do you have any cigars?” He said.
“No, the last few in my humidor are all crispy and old.”
“Well, why don’t we go into that shop across the street, get a couple, and smoke them by my pool?” He said.
“I think that’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.”
We crossed the street, and walked into the shop. Four guys sat on overstuffed leather chairs and watched the basketball game on a flat screen TV. A cloud of delicious blue smoke hung heavily in the room.
I breathed deeply as we passed through it and entered the walk-in humidor: 70 degrees and 70 percent humidity never felt so wonderful.
“You like the Avos?” Darin said.
I shook my head. “No, I think they’re grossly overpriced.”
“Griffins?”
“Never had one.”
The door opened, and the young clerk, straight from the pages of Details magazine, walked in.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” He said. He wasn’t quite condescending, but he was heading that way.
I looked at the Davidoffs and Arturo Fuentes. I lingered over a bunch of Romeo y Julietas. Number One, Number Three, Number Four . . . but no Number Two.
“Do you have any Number Twos?” I asked.
He looked down at the boxes and said, “No, I don’t think we do.”
He clicked his tongue several times and challenged me. “Why do you want the number two? Why not the number three?”
Oh, there’s the condescending.
“When I bought my first box of cigars, it was R&J number two,” I said, “so that’s what I like to smoke.”
He looked at me.
“What about the Avos?”
Darin laughed.
“I’m not a big fan of them,” I said. I started to feel like I was dealing with a car salesman.
“Well, what about this one here?” He picked up a Churchill-sized cigar in a natural wrapper. Of course it was the most expensive cigar in the store.
“This one is very popular with the ladies,” he began.
“Wait.” I said.
Well, I think I said it. Maybe it was the Guinness I had with dinner.
“Are you trying to sell me a girlie cigar?”
He looked puzzled, and said, “Oh no, I mean that this is a nice, light cigar, and –”
“And it’s perfect for little bitches like me, right?”
“Well, sir, what I mean is –”
“Is that I’m a sissy little bitch who likes wussy cigars with his lemondrop martinis and Sex In The City DVDs?”
Darin laughed again, and I joined him. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, man,” I said, “I’ll just have an 8-5-8.”
The clerk looked like he’d just found out the gun wasn’t loaded after all.
“I think it’s a cosmopolitan that goes with Sex In The City,” he said.
“Oh? Well, I hear there’s a cigar in here that’s perfect for you.”
He laughed. “I’ll ring you guys up when you’re ready.”

I’ll post full details of my audition on Monday (short version: I had fun, and made them laugh a whole bunch, but I don’t know if I’m what they are looking for), but I just saw something in the Mysterious Future at Slashdot, and this is too insanely cool to wait:
Peter Jackson Will Direct "The Hobbit"!!!111one one one bang one
According to this news item, there’s some question about who will distribute the film, but Peter Jackson has the rights to direct it, and wants to make it feel just like the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

NEW YORK (AP) – Peter Jackson won’t be returning to the Shire any time soon. The Oscar-winning director is planning to film “The Hobbit,” the prequel to “The Lord of the Rings,” trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien, but two studios must first fight over legal rights to the film.
Jackson said New Line Cinema has the rights to make the movie, but MGM has the rights to distribute it.
“I guess MGM’s lawyers and New Line’s lawyers are going to have a huge amount of fun over the next few years trying to work it all out,” he told reporters recently in Los Angeles, according to AP Radio. “I’m obviously busy for a couple of years on ‘King Kong’ so those lawyers can just go at it for a long time.”

Here is my first Open Letter to Peter Jackson, written with tongue planted firmly in cheek:

Dear Mr. Jackson,
Please let me be part of “The Hobbit.”
Please. Please. Please. Please. I will totally be your best friend.
Sincerely,
Wil Wheaton
PS- Please please please please. Thank you.