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I have a new favorite show.

Venom ER

The hour-long show comes on Animal Planet. The show follows Dr. Bush, a venom expert, as he deals with snake- and spider-bite victims who come into the ER. While the show certainly is an edge-of-your-seat experience, it is also educational. The viewer takes the journey with Dr. Bush as he studies snakes, how they bite, why they bite, why they release and run, why they hang on... pretty much all the ins and outs.

Because the show takes place in Southern California, I am learning about the types of venomous snakes that are local to the area, the markings that identifies each, and the steps to follow to reduce damage following a bite. For instance, we don't have the same types of rattle snakes in south Georgia that we have here in Southern California. Here, there are Mojave... and also this horned rattle snake - it literally has small horns on its head!! I never knew that even existed before this show.

Dr. Bush can identify the type of snake that bit a person simply by examining the symptoms experienced by the victim.

Some of the symptoms are absolutely wild. I watched this one man (he was bit my a Mojave)... the snake held on for 15 seconds when it bit - highly unusual. But because of that long bite, the amount of venom pumped into the man early killed him. His entire body swelled, he developed blisters all over his body, his hand (where the snake bit) was the size of a basketball, his skin turned black, he was unconscious for 5 days... just a complete nightmare. His muscles were twitching out of control... his legs looked like there was an ocean of waves beneath the skin that were rolling. Wild, I tell you!

Tonight's episode had a pregnant woman who was bit by a black widow spider.

If I haven't thoroughly grossed you out, you should check it out. This show is just... wild!

Have you ever heard that baby snakes are more dangerous because they don't know how to control the amount of venom they deliver in a bite and so they deliver all their venom when they bite? Ever heard that? I had heard that. Turns out it's a myth. Not true. An adult snake delivers 3 to 30 times more venom.

Okay, enough about the snakes. Clearly, I'm enthralled.

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If you know me, then you know how deeply I despise the dark.

If you don't, then let me attempt to explain. Me and the dark... oil and water. I sleep with my tv on (sound low) just so I have a flicker of light at night. When I used to camp in the woods, I put glow-in-the dark stars on the roof of our camper so I could open my eyes and see... something... anything, besides utter and complete darkness. My college roommates (the ones that loved me), would wait until I fell asleep and then turn the lights off... and take my glasses off since I always fell asleep with them on because hate opening my eyes and not being able to see anything.

I can't explain why I fear the dark... I simply do. And no, there were no traumatic experiences in my childhood that lead to such an irrational fear.

I couldn't sleep alone in my room after seeing Ghostbusters. Ghostbusters. It was Ghostbusters, for crying out loud! Not Freddie or Jason - and don't get me started on those.

I suppose it could be fear associated with the unknown... not knowing what lurks in the shadows. If I lay in complete darkness at night, my overly active imagination goes into overdrive and I see movement, hear creaks, see shifts in shadows. And all those things make me wonder who or what is out there. Makes me think that perhaps the hot-dog eating, green Slimer followed me home from the theater.

Goofballish, I know. Laugh it up.

But that fear nearly cost me a broken body tonight.

I was working at a wedding reception in the Hollywood Hills. It was dark. The cars were parked on a hill a far run away... in the pitch, black dark. No street lights. The hills on either side of the street were lined with tress that blocked out any possibility of moonlight (which is not nearly enough anyway).

I began up the hill... alone.

Because I had been running for quite some time past all the cars that were lining the street, I slowed my pace to a brisk walk.

Up until that point, I consistently reminded myself - I am grown. I am an adult. Then I began lying to myself - There is nothing scary about the dark. There's no critters with sharp teeth waiting for you at the top of the hill.

That's when the noises started.

A twig cracked to my left. A few leaves rustled to my right.

My breathing quickened, but I reminded myself that I was within a holler's call of the wedding. "Right," I thought. "There's a DJ playing loud music, a transportable generator humming just outside the party. No one will hear your cry for help."

If I were even able to scream. Truly, when fear hits me (fear of anything) I get silent. I don't make a sound.

So there I was... alone... deep in the woods... well, sort of. And I was armed with nothing more than the remote entry clicker for the silver Benz I was looking for.

Realizing that the small sound from the device would do little more than aggravate the rabid coyote that was likely stalking me from the trees, I started to run. I ran like my side didn't hurt and the blister on my heel didn't exist.

So anyway, there I am running. And I decided that I had better check over my shoulder to be sure the dang coyote wasn't hot on my trail.

But... the thing is... well, when you were a kid, did you ever try to look behind yourself as you rode a bicycle? Didn't work very well, did it? You probably swerved off into a ditch, huh? No? It was just me? Regardless, that's what I did while I was running in the dark tonight.

I looked over my shoulder and started to swerve in the road. (I had been running down the center of the road because you know how people hide under cars that are parked on the side of the street so they can grab at your ankles in the dark... right?)

Right, the swerving. Just as I turned my head back to look forward, my body came into contact with the side of a parked car. Nearly knocked the breath out of me. Think I bruised my hip bone. And severely damaged my pride... even if I was the only one there to witness the act.

Dang stupid dark and imaginary coyotes.

The twigs cracking were probably squirrels and the leaves rustling were probably armadillos rooting around.

No! There were coyotes, I tell you! A whole pack! With huge, sharp teeth. No wait, they were fangs! And they were starved! And rabid, I'm sure.

Dang stupid dark.

Luckily for me, the car I hit was the silver Benz. I beeped the remote thingy and the lights came on.

Oh, sweet light.

(NOTE: I am sleepy and writing this at lightning speed - excuse the grammar... I will try to edit it tomorrow.)

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Here's something I bet you never thought you'd ever see in a million years:



Wild, huh? Who would have ever thunk it? Me with straight hair!

Straight hair!!! I have super curly hair and it's straight!

Well, temporarily.

Daniel Gravel of Daniel Gravel Salon in Beverly Hills did this. It was a 3-hour process. He was so funny. We had no clue it would take that long, so every hour his associate Roy kept running down to feed the meter for me so I wouldn't get a parking ticket.

This was just a quick snapshot that my friend Nicki took for me with her digital camera while we were working up in Topanga Canyon. But Daniel is going to take some later on - an exchange - I get pics for my book and he gets pics for his salon.

Pretty crazy, huh? I still can't believe it was possible. However, it will be curly again as soon as I wash my hair... or it rains... or the humidity increases... or well, just about any contact with moisture in any form will curl my hair back up.

Now I know it can be done. It still blows my mind. Imagine the styling possibilities! I'm excited about the new possibilities.

The three hours I could do without, though. Oh well, I'll just take a good book... and likely read it cover-to-cover.

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A Few Important Things My Dad Has Taught Me:

--How to change a tire.

--Elbows do not belong on the table.

--Pantyhose will keep you warm in the woods.

--Check the oil every two weeks.

--A baby blue hat can cure any illness.

--A cold collard sandwich, while not especially appetizing, is possible.

--How to handle a stick on a hill.

--Girls can hang with the guys during hunting season.

--Deer sausage (heated in the microwave) and wrapped in a piece of bread with mustard makes a great breakfast.

--I was not raised in a barn.

--The gray is just new hair that hasn't yet developed color.

--We can probably make that for cheaper... and then it's an original.

--If you get that stuff in your eyes, the stuff that comes in a can like WD-40 but is not WD-40, then turn the water hose on your eye immediately to get rave reviews from the doctor.

--Use hairspray to stiffen a spider's legs so he can't move.

--A strawberry sundae from Dairy Queen can ease the pain following a visit to the health department for those stupid shots. And pretty much that ice cream is an all-around good thing.

--What words to use in a car dealership so that they think I know what I'm talking about.

--It can be cool to sit on the back porch and watch the lightning... but know when it's time to come in. (just count the seconds between the strike and the thunder to know how close the storm is)

--Word hard. But if you can rig it, do it.

--Ask Mom.

Thanks, Dad. And happy Father's Day.

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You gotta see this.

My bother caught a 21-pound catfish.

Twenty-one pounds!





Unbelievable, huh?

It stretches the length from Daniel's waist to the boat. And Daniel is 6'2" - not a shorty.

That thing is a monster!

He caught it on a tiny hook and 10-pound test. He fought with the cat for 30 minutes before finally pulling it onto the boat.

And yes, he kept it.

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Saw a deer last night.

Yeah, read it again... SAW A DEER LAST NIGHT.

For everyone back home in South Georgia - I know what you're thinking - big hairy deal. See 'em all the time right? Prefer not to see them unless it's deer season as they cause mucho damage to cars, trucks, and even vans as my Uncle Roy can verify.

But let me just remind you that I am currently in Los Angeles. LA. The city. Cars, buildings, lights.

Thus far, the wildest of wildlife I have seen has been the two resident skunks, Pepe and Flower. And that doesn't count the frog-shaped rock that nearly cost me a broken ankle.

I saw a deer. A DEER. And it wasn't some lost Bambi. This doe was big enough to stand taller than the cars it walked past. Yep. It was walking down the street. A PAVED street, mind you.

I was valet parking on a mountain-side in Pacific Palisades and one of our girls came running down the hill waving her hands madly and looking over her shoulder. "A deer!" she shouted.

I laughed. I figured it was a big dog she'd seen. A man had been by earlier walking a big, chocolate Lab.

And then... the deer turned the corner running down the street behind her.

I about fainted.

There it was... this nice-sized doe just deer-hopping down the lane.

The other girl was terrified. She was out of breath and panicked.

Long story short - I retrieved the car for her from the top of the hill, braving facing the deer. No biggie. I knew the deer would run from me before anything else. Besides, it was a DEER. It's like running from a bunny rabbit.

Later, I asked her why she was so scared. She said she kept picturing that television show called - When Wildlife Attacks - or something like that.

I knew exactly what video clip she was visualizing... the one where the moronic "deer hunter" sprays himself with doe urine and then gets pommeled by a buck while his genius wife stands by taping the entire fiasco. I explained to her that the man in that scene was not the best example of human life. Didn't faze her. She still refused to go back up that hill.

Pretty wild, though. I saw a deer in LA. That's like seeing a moose in Florida.

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So, I was driving down Los Feliz Blvd. and I saw this truck that looked very similar to my rental, except that the one I saw was silver (mine is gold) and it was an extended cab (mine is a quad cab).

Aside from noticing it in front of me, I took no further note as I proceeded to fool with the CD player. Evidently, however, the driver of the other truck took notice of "my" truck.

From the right lane, I approached the truck.

When I became even with the Ford, the guy gunned the engine one good time and then turned to look over his shoulder out of his back window. He gave me the look - "Yeah, I did that. What are you gonna do about it?" He then proceeded to shrug his shoulders as if to say - "Guess I won."

Please. I'm not gonna play games with you. My truck is bigger than yours.

Besides, I'm not intimidated by your ability to touch the gas pedal. Sorry to disappoint, but it does nothing for me.

As much fun as I am having with the rental, I can't wait to get my own truck back.

Well, they turned out to be uninsured. Just my luck.

So, I have to pay my deductible to have my truck fixed, but my premium will not go up. Thank goodness. And the insurance company gave me a rental (fully paid by them) that is comparable to what I drive.

So.... I am driving around in a 2004 F-150, gold, quad cab, automatic everything, CD.... NICE. Yeah...

The hard part is getting that monster in my tee-tiny parking spot in my garage. But I can deal for a few days. The thing is hot. Wonder if I could find a place to take it off the road. Hmmmmm....

(Okay, quit freaking, Mom. I'm not gonna really do it... unless I figure out how to use the 4-wheel drive feature.)

At least I get a big, monster, cool truck out of the stupid accident deal... even if it's only temporary. Yeeeah. It kinda makes me feel better about knowing my pretty blue truck is smashed up in the shop waiting for body parts and paint.

I'm off tomorrow to film a trailer down in Orange County. I get to be a murderess. Take out some agression over the temporary loss of my Dakota without actually risking jail. Fun. And I get to drive the F-150. Yeeeeeah, baby.

This is a super short entry, but I will have lots to tell when I return from Orange County.