Kimopolis

My cousin Mandy is an actress. She’s not People magazine famous (yet), but I’d be willing to be that you’ve seen her on TV at least a few times. She is one of the few, lucky actors who makes a living doing what she loves best, acting. Unlike most “actors” in the LA area who make most of their money from tips, either from waiting tables or dancing on them (hey, whatever pays the bills, I say), Mandy’s sole profession and source of income is acting. And let me tell you, she does pretty well for herself. I should be so fortunate. Well, maybe one day my writing will pay the bills, but presently it’s a labor of love.

Currently, Mandy has a fairly ubiquitous national commercial running for Pristiq, and I am totally stoked for her. However, every time it pops onto the TV screen, it totally freaks me out. There’s just something bizarrely unsettling about seeing someone you’ve known your entire life interrupt So You Think You Can Dance. First of all, could they BE any closer to her face? Holy crap. I feel like I’m making out with her. I love her and everything, but even I don’t get that close to her face, like…ever.

And then, before the shock of her visage being two feet high and three feet wide has had a chance to subside, the first word out of her mouth is, “DEPRESSION.” Oh, geez. DOWNER.  Take it from someone who is already heavily medicated, when Mandy says “depression” even I am considering the immediate need to up my daily dose of Zoloft. I mean, I always knew she was a great actress, but level of believability conveyed in those initial moments is ridiculous! The first time I saw it, I literally had the phone in my hand, ready to dial my therapist’s number and ask him to prescribe me some Pristiq, and STAT. I’ve seen the commercial at least 20 times now, and I’m still not convinced I shouldn’t switch.

Then, the other day, I was surfin’ the net when I came across the website for Pristiq and *BA-BAM* there she is again! Mandy, large as life.

Not a picture of the pill (“Little. Yellow. Different.”). Not a photo of a “doctor”.  Not a bouncing cartoon smiley face. Just Mandy (and her little doll, too). Apparently, Mandy IS Pristiq. A small part of me is wondering if maybe her picture is on the actual bottle (IS it?!?). But another thought rattling around in my mind is: Why is Mandy sad? Why does seeing Mandy sad make ME so sad? It’s really disconcerting. It must have something to do with the fact that we’re related, and the little girl in me doesn’t understand, or can’t comprehend, what the problem is. It’s a visceral reaction that I am completely stunned by. Thank god she doesn’t have kids yet, or else I can only assume they’d be totally traumatized.

Well, to even the playing field a little, I decided it was time for some HAPPY Mandy. Some HOT Mandy. Put the scary wind-up doll down, step away from the meds and feast your eyes upon THIS:

Ah. Now, isn’t that better? I don’t feel like overly medicating myself at all anymore. (BTW, the lead guitarist…my cousin Mike.)

It’s funny, now that I think about it, all of my cousins are uniquely talented in vastly different and amazing ways. It’s almost as if we’re a band of superheroes united by blood and bound and determined to change the world through whatever gifts we have to offer. My cousin Mike, as you’ve seen, is an extraordinarily talented musician (and you can hear some of his current work on the Moon soundtrack, starring Sam Rockwell). My cousin Cameron, Mandy’s brother, is more politically motivated and crusades for human rights and equality as a social worker. My cousin Steve, Mike’s brother, is the environmentalist with a doctorate from UC Davis and a plan to change the face of farming through the use of earthworms. Lastly, but certainly not least, my cousin Cathy is the sportsman of the bunch, an accomplished and highly decorated equestrian who also finds the time to raise three brilliant children somehow. And I am the storyteller, though my medium of choice has varied from photography to film and now to the written word, I am the one who has the distinct honor to share all of my family’s achievements with you.

Aren’t you the lucky one?

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