Priest Walks Out Of Woman’s Funeral Because Of Her Gay Daughter

Barbara Johnson

***UPDATED


The Last Word with Lawrence O'Donnell
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CNN
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WUSA9 News:
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Ann Werner (my mother and writing partner) broke the story Sunday, February 26, 2012 on Addicting Info.

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Priest Walks Out Of Woman’s Funeral Because Of Her Gay Daughter

Press release from the Archdiocese of Washington.

"In matters of faith and morals, the Church has the responsibility of teaching and of bringing the light of the Gospel message to the circumstances of our day. When questions arise about whether or not an individual should present themselves for communion, it is not the policy of the Archdiocese of Washington to publicly reprimand the person. Any ...issues regarding the suitability of an individual to receive communion should be addressed by the priest with that person in a private, pastoral setting.

The archdiocese is looking into the incident at a funeral Mass that was celebrated by Fr. Marcel Guarnizo and will handle this as a personnel issue."

Brie Hall
Communications Manager
Archdiocese of Washington  Archdiocese Contact: Chieko Noguchi 301-853-4514 or cnoguchi@adw.org


Barbara Johnson buried her mother in Maryland on February 25, 2012. The Priest,  Father Marcel Guarnizo, denied Barbara communion and walked out mid-ceremony. She posted this on her Facebook page and the story is spreading across the Internet like wildfire.

 "...I was denied communion AT MY MOTHER'S FUNERAL because, as the HORRIBLE priest said to me as the first person in line to take communion, "I cannot give you communion because you live with a woman and that is a sin according to the church." In addition, he LEFT the altar as I delivered her eulogy. AND THEN...he told the funeral director he was "sick" and could not FINISH HIS JOB by aaccompanying my mother's body to the grave site. And that, my friends, was the LAST time you will ever see me set foot inside a catholic church. I know gay and lesbian Eucharistic ministers....and this fascist asshat had the self-righteous God-complex to judge me on the saddest day of my life. TURNED ME AWAY and covered the bowl containing the Host. His name is Father Marcel Guarnizo..."

Read the articles:

Addicting Info - Original article
Huffington Post
Daily Kos
The Advocate
The New Civil Rights Movement
The Seattle Times

Two Stories: Ain't No Sunshine: Men Reveal The Pain Of Heartbreak

35  Straight

            I am a Marine.

            I was with my girlfriend Melissa for about two years when I was called to go to Iraq. Before I left, I bought Melissa an engagement ring. I proposed and she said yes. I knew I wanted to marry her months before I got the ring. I thought if I made it official, I would have a deeper motivation to stay alive.

            Melissa was my best friend. I met her when I was working as a bartender. She would come into the bar where I worked with her friends and we had an instant connection. She was so pretty. Long blonde hair, big brown eyes and the most beautiful lips I had ever seen. I tried to act cool around her but inside I was a mess. I wanted her so much but I was shy.

            One night she came into the bar alone. It was a slow night and we had a chance to really talk. I finally got up the nerve to ask her on a date. For me, the first date was the start of us being together forever. I was twenty-five and she was twenty-three. She made me work for her affections and I was happy to.

            Before I left, she told me she was scared. I told her that we would email and write and that I needed her strength and prayers. I wanted to come back and marry her, start our life and our family. We planned to have a big familyat least five kids.

            It was July. I had been there for seven months. It was a hard month. Very hot and two of my good buddies died. I had also learned that my grandmother passed away and that made me sad. I was very close to her and it killed me not to be at her funeral. It wasn't long after that I got the email from Melissa. She told me she needed to break our engagement. She wrote she couldn't be engaged to me anymore because the time and distance were too much for her. Reading the email was surreal. I didn't know what to think. All these macho Marines surrounded me and I had to play it cool but I wanted to curl up and die. I wanted to cry. But I couldn't.

            That night when I went to bed, I cried very quietly. My best friend over there heard me and asked me what was going on. He was the only person I talked to about it. He did help me. He let me cry. There is something about being in a war. Men seem to bond in a way they don't when you're just friends at home having BBQ's and drinking beers. There was one time when I completely broke down and sobbed. He held me. I am sure a lot of the guys would have seen that as gay but

I was such a wreck. He was there for me and I will never forget it. I definitely felt suicidal in the beginning. I hoped that I would get shot or something. My buddy was there the whole time and I credit him for keeping me alive. I wanted to be careless.

            I didn't even tell my family about it for a month. I was humiliated and embarrassed. I didn't want to answer questions. I emailed Melissa many times. I tried calling her and writing her letters but she never replied.

            When I returned to the States, I found out Melissa was with another guy. Many of my friends knew this but never told me. Looking back I am glad. It was hard to go through that. Being over there, not knowing if I would be around tomorrow, seeing people die all for a war I didn't believe in. I take pride in being a Marine. I would gladly fight and die for my country but we weren't fighting for our country. I won't get into it here but what I saw was very corrupt.

            I haven't admitted this to anyone but for about a week after I was dumped, I took my anger and frustration out on "the enemy. I was vicious. I was mean. It stopped when I realized that I was starting to become something I thought was evil. I am not an evil person. But I was so hurt and angry; I guess I thought if I could release it to the enemy, I could find some peace. It only made me feel worse. The whole rest of the time I was there, I hoped that I would hear from her telling me she changed her mind and wanted me again.

I saw Melissa a short while after my return home. We ran into each other in the store. We went to the parking lot. She seemed cold and scared. I was still very hurt and I asked her all these questions. Mostly Why? Why did she do this to me? Didn't she love me any more? All she could say was that she was sorry and ran to her car. It kind of brought it all up again for me and I felt like I had been dumped again. I did seek therapy both because of Melissa and my time at war. It did help. I was given Prozac and after a while, I was able to calm down and not feel so alone.

            I have looked her up on Facebook but she has a private profile so I can't really see anything. I never drove by her house or called and hung up. I didn't even call to talk to her when I got back. When I found out she was with someone else, I had too much pride. I did cry a lot at first but after a few months, I was able to get past it.

            During that time I wasn't dating anyone and didn't have sex either. I could have but I chose not to. I felt it would be too tough, that I would only compare her to Melissa.          

            I started dating and eventually started seeing a woman regularly. We aren't together anymore but the breakup was not devastating. We just didn't click. Right now I am dating a little and would like to find a woman to marry. I just put an ad on a dating site so we'll see. I hope that what happened with Melissa helps me and doesn't hurt me. I don't want to allow that pain to color my next relationship.

            There was a long time when I wanted to say hurtful things to Melissa. I wanted to hurt her because I was in so much pain. I never did and I am grateful. I know that wouldn't have helped her or me. Now I would just wish her well. I hope she understands what she did was cowardly and selfish and that breaking up with someone while they are at war is one of the most devastating things to do. I guess there is never a good time but that was a real low blow.

            I believe if you find the right mate, someone who fits with you, it's maybe what people call soul mates but I am not sure if I think that is all really true. I thought Melissa was mine but I guess I was wrong. I do know I can love someone, though, and I really want to.

                                                                * * * * * * * * * * * *

45 Confused

            I am married with three children. My wife and I married young, in our early twenties. Looking back, I married her because I felt that was what I should do. We dated and had a lot in common. We both came from upper middle class families; both attended college (where we met) and graduated at the top of our class. We both had the same idea of the kind of lifestyle we wanted to create. At the time I felt happy. She is a good woman and a great mother.

            She became friends with a woman many years ago who was also married. My wife invited the couple to dinner one weekend and I met the husband.

            From the start he and I got along. He is a dynamic man. Very funny and, after a short period of time, he invited me to play golf. At first, nothing felt out of the ordinary to me. The more we hung out, the more I enjoyed his company. I started to prefer spending time with him. One night I dreamed that he and I were sexual and it was highly erotic. I woke from the dream very disturbed yet completely turned on. I was so bothered by this. How could this be? I am not gay. I have never fantasized about a man and never felt an attraction to one before. I told no one of my dream and tried to push it down. But the thought of the sex with him was almost too much for me. The desire only grew after that point. On the occasions when we played golf after the dream, I sensed a certain energy coming from him and I wondered if he felt the same

          On a day our wives took the kids out, I invited him over to help me do some work around the house. I will spare you the details of how it got started but within two hours we engaged in the most fulfilling and satisfying sex I had ever experienced. It was mind blowing. Immediately afterward, we felt awkward and he left. I swore to myself it would never happen again but before I knew it we started seeing each other regularly. We went to hotels, planned golf trips and I found myself developing feelings for him. I started to feel jealous if he spent time with other men and wondered if he did this with them. When I asked him about it, he told me that I was the only man he was with and wanted to be with.

            This relationship went on for five and a half years. No one ever found out about us. I fell in love with him but I felt disgusted. I felt I was living a lie and didn't know what to do about it. He professed his love for me and we decided that we would just have to keep up the facade of our married lives because neither one of us knew how to explain this to any of our friends and family.

            In the midst of our relationship, Brokeback Mountain came out. My wife, who is religious (I am not), had some pretty hateful things to say about the film and I remember feeling immense guilt. I watched the film alone when it went to video and it made me feel awful. I thought about the consequences of exposing my relationship and what it would do to everyone I loved. I was filled with anxiety about my double life so I decided to end the relationship with him.

            We met and I told him we had to stop. It was awful. He begged me to continue the way we had been, that no one even suspected and he didn't know how to be happy without me. I couldn't do it anymore. It was breaking me. I felt love for him but I also felt what we were doing was wrong on so many levels. He tried for some time to get back to the way things were between us but I would not allow it. He tried to promise me that no one would ever have to know but these things have a way of getting out.

            For the next couple of years things were very uncomfortable. We still all saw each other as couples. He would call me and try to get back together but I told him he needed to move on and to stop asking me. He wrote emails, he cried and it was all I could do to keep my sanity. Eventually he and his family moved about an hour away. This made it easier to stop seeing each other and slowly but surely, we stopped talking altogether. Our wives are still friends but I avoid seeing him.

            I felt intense pain. I haven't cried. It's more like something inside of me has died. I feel numb about it. I have told NO ONE. It is something I will have to live with. I miss him all the time. I fantasize about living with him and sharing my life with him. It will never happen. I know sometimes I can be abrasive with my wife. I know it's because I secretly resent having to stay with her but it is the choice I made long ago and we have children. I must sacrifice my own desires so they can have a good life and feel they come from a respectable family.

            The breakup was so hard for me because I felt like I was in love with him but I felt wrong. To this day, I do not define myself as a gay man. I broke up with him because I couldn't keep living a lie. The guilt was consuming me. I still feel consumed with guilt but at least I made the decision to stop it before any of our families got hurt.

            I have not been with another man and I don't intend to. I do find myself wondering what it would feel like to be with another man, though. I wonder if I would fall in love with another man. I believe without a doubt I could enjoy sex with men but the feeling of love? I don't know. I will never find out.

            It has been many years since we've seen each other. I can't say I'm completely over him. I think about him all the time and wish there was a way we could be together but there isn't, so that is how it has to be. Even though I loved him, I find the situation itself to be the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me.

            To know me is to know I am not a dramatic man. I have felt desperate at times but more because I question my sexual identity. I did not expect this to be an issue I would have to deal with. I have always been matter of fact. I am not a "romantic." I would not take my own life for any reason. This relationship, though, has proved to be the most difficult experience of my life.

            I don't know if he's been with anyone else and I don't want to know. Fortunately, I don't have to hear about anything he may be doing. I think if I did find out he was with another man I would be very upset about it.

            I'm not over him but it's a goal I aspire to and I work on it daily. I have not sought therapy nor will I. I will deal with the consequences of my actions and do my best to conceal it from my family. I have said my piece to him but I do wish I could tell him I love him and feel I always will.

        

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How Do Men Love? How Do They FEEL When They Lose It?

 

 

 

Women are vocal about their feelings. When something upsets us, we find a girlfriend to talk to. We usually talk to all of our girlfriends because we know they'll listen, provide support, encouragement and if nothing else, a sounding board. Someone to vent to. It makes a huge difference. After we cry and rant and get all of the negative emotion out, we feel better.
 

 

What do men do? Do they cry? Sob? Talk to their friends and express their fears, hopes and vulnerabilities? The answer is, sometimes, yes they do. But not nearly as much as women.
 

 

In November of 2010, I was talking to a girlfriend about men. We discussed how men deal with a broken heart. We had our theories but it was a guessing game. She suggested that my next Reality Book should be about men and heartbreak. That I should interview them. The following December, I set out to do just that. I devised a questionnaire and put out the call for any willing participant.
 

 

By May 2011 my mother and writing partner, Ann Werner, and I had stories from thirty-eight men as well as observations of how men deal with lost love from psychics, therapists and bartenders. As the stories came in, I was always floored. These men were guaranteed anonymity and because of that, they felt safe to really share what goes on behind the veil.
 

 

The stories are all very different. Some men were dumped, some cheated on and  some widowed. Some of these men have been fortunate enough to have moved on and are now in happy relationships. What I found particularly interesting is in explaining how they deal with heartbreak, they also provide a glimpse into how they love. How important love and family is to them. How often does a man really let it all hang out and describe the pain of lost love? No man has ever confided in me that way. They may say they were hurt but that's as far as they'll go. They feel the need to appear strong, even when all they want to do is curl up into a ball and hide under the covers. Society expects men to "suck it up" and that is a lot to keep inside.
 

 

There's a Marine who got a Dear John email while serving in Iraq. When that story came in, I read it to my mother and selected friends. The response from all the women was the same. "WHAT A BITCH!" One married man with two very young girls lost his wife in a car accident. Another was dumped because his fiancé got fake boobs. The stories are so varied; as varied as the men who sent them in.

On a spiritual level, we are all in search of love. We all have the desire to be loved and when we are scared and vulnerable, we need reassurance that it's going to be OK. Part of how we can get through a break-up or losing someone we love is the knowledge that we are not alone. We can learn and get through our own trials a bit easier when we understand how others deal with it.
 

 

Ain't No Sunshine: Men Reveal The Pain Of Heartbreak was created to help both men and women have a better understanding of what men go through. It's an informal collection of stories with no commentary from us. We don't claim to have "the answer" or offer advice. You can read the stories and take away what you will. Each story will affect every reader differently. We are not experts or doctors. We simply wanted to collect these stories and get them out into the world. There is no other book at all like it. It is our hope that it will help to enlighten women regarding the male psyche as well as provide a path of recovery for those men who have experienced the wrenching pain of heartbreak by letting them know that they are not alone.

 

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These Go To Eleven

As an author, I hear a lot of "shoulds" "You should write a book about..." "You should incorporate graphs and analytics." "You should have interviewed me" (after my book is a finished product). When you're creative, you open yourself up to a lot of back-seat artists.

I don't say this with malice, only minor frustration. My answer to anyone telling me what I should do, is to reply "If you like the idea so much, you should do it."

I realize that not everyone will be interested in my topics. I also realize that not everyone will like my presentation. I have been fortunate to get really great reviews from strangers. People I don't know giving their honest and unbiased opinion. I have had some reviews that were less than favorable and sure, it stung. It stings the most when there is truth to the critique. I get over it and apply it to my next project and am ultimately happy that it was pointed out to me.

When I decided to create Reality Books, my goal was to only use stories from real people focusing on emotions. I did not want to tell the reader what to think. I don't want to analyze the data, incorporate charts and graphs and come to one conclusion, because these are people's experiences. Not scientific testing. My interviews are informal and I have no real control over who decides to share. I put out the call, if I get a good story, I use it. I try to be very careful to not alter the responses. I want it to be the author's words. Grammar is edited and if there are words that are used multiple times, I do change some of them to make it flow. But if I change the story too much, then I am not providing an accurate account of what was originally intended. It's not my story to tell.

If I were to analyze and conclude, it would be my interpretation. In my book The Virgin Diaries, seventy- two people share the emotional side of virginity loss. These are the nice folks who saw my ad and decided they wanted to contribute. I can conclude that most didn't get advice from anyone about first time sex. I can conclude that it's painful for females and that males have a much easier time, generally speaking. But is this new? Does it validate the stories and all of a sudden make what these people wrote have more merit? No.

The point is to collect all different kinds of experiences so that the readers can form their own conclusions. If you want data, graphs and charts, you have many other options. I am not a doctor nor am I an expert and I don't even want to be one. I think people are interesting and I like hearing about how it is for them. I trust the reader has a brain and can make up his or her own mind.

People want answers. They want a book or a TV show to say, "Here is an answer for you" so that life can be less confusing. But life IS confusing and those who are so quick to provide answers aren't (in my opinion) really making a huge difference.

Let's take the book The Rules. I bought it. It gives you all kinds of guidelines and examples of what you should do in order to win a man. Frankly, I thought it was a bunch of malarkey. It was a book of how to lie and manipulate men. Maybe these rules will work in the short term but if a man is into you, he'll call. Stupid tricks and games aren't going to win over the truth. And why would anyone want to force or manipulate someone into wanting them anyway? If it's genuine, it's real. If you have to jump through hoops and work with smoke and mirrors, I believe it's more a game than a real, honest relationship.

So I apply this to how I work. I will never claim to have your answer. I have a hard enough time knowing what my answer is. Perhaps I could all of a sudden promote myself as the "Go To Virginity Lady." Or the woman who has all the answers to how men deal with heartbreak. And maybe if I just make that proclamation, people might consider me an expert because I say I am and buy more of my books. But I would be a fraud. And I don't want that. I am just the woman who asks questions and lets everyone read the answers. You have the opportunity to then do your own analyzing and make up your own mind. This won't change. I am breaking out of the mold a bit and doing things the way I want to. Creating books that I want to read.

I certainly don't want to say that books like Men Are From Mars, Women are From Venus have no value or are a bunch of malarkey. I read that book as well and though I do remember feeling like it had some really good things to say, I couldn't tell you what the message was. It didn't change my life. I didn't feel like I suddenly had the answers to the difference between men and women. I gained some insight. That is what I hope to achieve. Provide insight for those interested in the topic I am covering.

In case the title of this blog is confusing, I am including a link to one of my all-time favorite movies This Is Spinal Tap and in keeping with the message of this post, you can figure out how I came to title it!

These Go To Eleven

Staci Greason: Author, Actress and All Around Cool Chick!

Staci Greason starred on the hit daytime soap opera Days of Our Lives, as the late Isabella Toscano-Black. She created the weekly food column "Dishing" for MODE magazine and is the author of the popular blog Anxiety: a Love Story. She lives in Southern California and is currently at work on her fourth novel.

Her novel The Last Great American Housewife is available on Amazon.

Kate Miller, the heroine of The Last Great American Housewife, finds her greatness, like a reverse Isabel Archer, by going into the wild. And also completely unlike Henry James, Staci Greason gives us endangered trees, men of nature, light drug-taking, plus sweetly wry humor, all served up in this redemptive and completely charming novel. -- Jim Krusoe, Toward You

Why do you write?

I’ve always turned everything into a story. It’s the way my mind works. (Ask my poor friends who get stuck with me on the phone!) Also, when I’m very sad or life isn’t going well, I write. I find I can move forward in my life in spite of circumstances if I’m focused on a writing project.

For example, I finished my first novel while suffering from a serious illness and working full-time at a grinding, low-paying job. I came home every night (and on the weekend), sat down and worked on my story. That novel Job’s Daughter landed me my first literary agent. Last year I built my blog Anxiety: a Love Story, fueled mostly by a bad relationship and more illness and humor. (In Buddhism we call this turning poison into medicine.)

When I was a kid I wrote love songs on my guitar and some fairly awful poetry. In my teens and twenties I studied singing and acting and wound up working on television. Just before I turned thirty, my artistic desire morphed back into writing. I couldn’t wait to stop being in front of the camera and spend all day locked in a room getting to know my characters.

Fast forward twenty years, I’ve written three novels (most recent The Last Great American Housewife, several screenplays and two television pilots. I also work as a ghost writer helping clients turn their ideas into marketable book proposals that get publishing deals. And then I write their books. I love learning how people think and live.

My next adventure is to get up on stage and do storytelling.

Describe the thrills, the frustrations and how you feel when you’re on a roll.

When I’m not writing, I’m crabby, I complain, I’m horrible to date and I feel like my life is going nowhere. Then, I start writing again.

There have been times in my writing career when I haven’t written anything worth a damn for a year. Or several years. Sometimes, the right partner makes the burden of finishing a script easier. Writing is hard work. Projects that start out great sometimes end up going nowhere. And then it’s like “oh my God, I can’t get those five years back.” Neglected children hidden in drawers make a lot of noise. I miss them. Novels nobody wants break my heart. It’s horrible.

There is no secret to writing except for rewriting. And little tricks you can play to get yourself writing again. Usually, I only feel better about writing when I’m done.

Last November, I had an amazing first as a writer: I sat down with a friend and created a treatment for a television pilot in one week. Bam. Done. And then I wrote the pilot script in under a month. It’s crazy when it happens like that.

Perhaps that’s what years of training have taught me: do the work.

What authors/genres do you read?

Many! When I was a kid my mom took us to the library every week. It was my favorite thing. I wanted to be a librarian. I loved Nancy Drew, Laura Ingalls Wilder and romance novels, of course.

Shortlisted: I love gritty, salt-of-the-earth writers. My favorite books are: Ask the Dust, All the Names, The Shipping News, and All the Pretty Horses. I love those “life is rugged, tough and people are raw and beautiful” writers.

Jhumpa Lahiri’s short stories are gorgeous. The poets: Mary Oliver, Naomi Shihab Nye, Bukowski and Merwin.

I also love the fantastic mind of the writer Jim Krusoe. (Who, thankfully, also happens to be my teacher.) More people should read his books. Check out Blood Lake & Other Stories.

And for a curve ball: Bridget Jones’ Diary is one of the funniest, laugh-out-loud, smartest books I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading aloud to man in bed.

What is your next project?

No talking about it while writing because it will change anyway.

What is the best part of being an author?

Telling the truth through fiction. There is no one way to live a life. I always hope to shine a light on what it means to be a human being. We are all the same. We could help each other a lot more.

The worst part of beiing a writer?

Cash flow.

Why are books important to you?

They are the many worlds I can travel within our world. And the way to expand myself as a person.

What advice do you have for new authors?

This is the advice I was given by a fairly successful writer friend:

Just sit down and write it. Don’t read any books on how to write. Don’t go to college to learn how to write a story. Just write. Then put it in a drawer and start your next story or book. You get to where you’re going by going there.

Looking back I am happy that I followed his advice. At first I could only type five sentences before I needed to leave the house for the day. Over time, I learned to stay inside and write for hours. If I had pursued an MFA writing program I might have more connections and possibly be making a hell of a lot more money - but I’m not certain I would have retained my own style and voice. My confidence was too shaky. I thought writers were people who were way smarter than me.

I once took a storytelling class at UCLA. We had to show up with a piece already written to perform for the first class. I was pretty sure my piece was fairly awful. Eight weeks later, I was asked to perform that piece in the final class show- not any of the pieces I had written during the class. So, it was money well-spent to learn an important lesson.

Trust your own voice.  I do like being in my writers’ class now because it gives me a deadline. (Trick your writer.)

You have to decide how you work best for yourself.

Fun Fact: Once a soap opera star, Staci Greason turned 40 in her parents’ unfinished basement. Someday, she’ll finish a story about it.

Life Philosophy: Do what you love. Be prepared to fight really hard for it. Don’t give into your own inner negativity. Work harder than everyone else. Nobody really cares about whether or not you accomplish your dreams but you. Maybe one day people will pay you well for your work. If it never happens, at least you can die knowing, “I have done my best.”

Follow Staci on Twitter: @stacigreason

From Kimberley:

I was so pleased that Staci agreed to let me interview her. I never had the pleasure of working with or even meeting her in the seven years I appeared on Days but I was a fan of the show from the age of nine. Isabella was one of my favorite characters. Staci and I met via Twitter and I wish to thank her for being a part of my blog. Now, go buy her book! :) 

What It Was Like To Work On Days Of Our Lives

In 1977, when I was 9 years-old, I was flipping through the channels one weekday afternoon and happened upon a scene on Days Of Our Lives where two teens were about to engage in first time sex. The house could have caught fire and you would have had to pull me away from the TV. I was hooked and thus began my twenty plus year relationship with the show. Ironic that thirty some years later, I wrote a book about first time sex. 

In high school, I would watch it when I was home sick and on holidays. I turned many of my friends on to the show too. When we got a VCR, I got to record it and was back to watching it every day.

As with most soaps, many of the characters remained the same for decades. As a viewer, you feel as if these characters are part of your family. It doesn't matter that some of the plot lines are completely insane or implausible. It doesn't matter that continuity is often only a theory. Bo, Marlena, John and Maggie were my family. I cared about them and couldn't wait to see what would happen next.

When I was 20, I worked in a department store selling perfume near the NBC studios in Burbank where the show was taped. Many of the Days actors would come in. There were also a number of fragrance models I worked with who were also actors and they worked on Days. My mother worked as an extra on the show a few times before landing her role as Eliana, maid  to the evil Stefano DiMera.

When I was 21, I decided to pursue an acting career. I studied the Meisner Technique with Wayne Dvorak in Los Angeles. It was important to me that I understood what I was doing before I stood in front of a casting director. If I was horrible, I would surely only be remembered as the six foot blonde who didn't know what the hell she was doing. So, for two and a half years, I concentrated on honing my craft. When I graduated, my coach decided to create The Professional Level. Actors had to be voted in and we would continue to study as well as meet with casting directors and agents.

My mother, Ann Werner, also studied at Dvorak & Company. She graduated about a year before I did. We were both in the professional class when we heard Wayne knew Fran Bascom, the casting director for Days. We both hounded him to get her into the studio. We finally wore him down and Fran came to the studio with her assistant Ron Sperber. They hired pretty much everyone. I knew the entire back-story to my audition scene and felt like I had a leg up. I could tell they were impressed and they booked me. I was so excited. Not only had I booked my first national television show, it was DAYS! And to make it even better, two of my other classmates, Maria Kress and Kevin Molloy appeared in the scene with me. I played Marsha, a bitchy model. Maria was also a model and we were doing a photo shoot with Sami, Will, Carrie and Austin. I had several lines but the one I remember (and my favorite line of all time) was in reference to Will, Sami's son. I said "Life is hard enough without being born illegitimate."

It was December, 1995 when I first walked on to the set, I felt immediately comfortable. Even though everyone was a stranger to me, I felt like I knew these people. Everyone was friendly and I got to see the sets. I was so surprised at how much smaller everything looks in person Including the stars. Keep in mind, I am six feet tall, so I am usually the tallest person in any given situation but in the acting world, female height is rare, especially in soaps.

When my episode aired, I was happy with my performance. A few months later, they called me back. This time, I didn't have the safety net of my classmates and got very nervous. It showed on camera and to make matters worse, I looked directly at the camera while they were taping. They aired it. They are on such a strict schedule that things like that slip in. I am sure if I were one of the stars, it would have been re-taped. I was humiliated.

Time passed and lo and behold, they called me back to play a reporter. Once again, I worked with Sami and Carrie. My acting buddy Maria and I did the scene together.  I had another great line. I pointed to Sami and yelled to the newspaper photographer "Get a shot of her crying!"

About a year and a half after the first time I worked on the show, they called me in again to play a police officer and that was my character until my last day in late 2002. I worked more frequently and had the opportunity to really feel like I was a real part of the show, even if the role I played was a small one. I was part of the Salem PD. There were jokes made about the lack of intelligence of the Salem Police Department, primarily by the actors playing the cops. We called ourselves The Keystone Cops and laughed a lot. On one episode, we were searching for the all important murder weapon. One of the officer's lines to the head of police after being instructed to keep the search going into the wee hours of the night was something like "But it's dark." Oh, how I loved being a part of that show!

One of the other more memorable experiences I had was a day that we were shooting a Gala. I was an under-cover cop and got to wear a gown. The day was long and grueling, We were all on set early and taping until midnight. Deidre Hall aka Marlena (The Diva of Days) was in the scene and after rehearsal, we took a quick break. She pulled me to the side and gave me pointers on how to stand to get the most flattering light. She made an effort to help me even though she and I really didn't know each other. I was so touched. Everyone's moods were wearing quite thin and people started to get punchy. She, like the rest of us, wanted to go home and this was not the time to get sloppy, She scolded the naughty ones, I was grateful that someone took control. We all were very tired. I will never forget the kindness she showed me.

For the most part, I had a wonderful time on the show. Of course there were some people who were not so friendly and I will not name names. As with any line of work, some people are nice, some aren't. There was only one person on the show who was quite nasty and said things about me behind my back. I was alerted by someone in the make-up crew. I was not surprised by this because I'd overheard this person talking poorly about another actor on the show. But that is what happens with human beings. It didn't have a negative effect on my experience. Now, I can say that a soap star talked sh*t about me!

The last little story I will include is about my police uniform and my hair & make-up. The uniforms were designed for men and never quite fit me properly, especially in the hips. Men tend to have slimmer hips than women and with the holster I  wore, the pain would often be intense. Add to that the pants were always too short and on the day I complained and asked for longer ones, I was told they wouldn't shoot my whole body. Well, guess what? That was one of the episodes that my high-water pants were glaring. On top of all of that my hair and make-up were insane! They would often put my hair in a french twist and it felt as if I wore a pound of make-up. I certainly didn't look like your average female police officer. Though I did almost fool Ken Shocknek, an NBC news anchor. We were both having lunch at the NBC commissary and he was sitting by me. He kept staring and eventually asked me if I was a real cop to which I responded, "I'm not a cop but I play one on TV."

And Now For Something Completely Different...

As we say goodbye to 2011, I decided to share a faux memorial that my father, Ken Johnson wrote after reading the famous chimp Cheetah recently passed away. My father said he thought the story on Cheetah's passing may be a hoax or not accurate but decided to pay tribute anyway.

Some who know me well, know my cracked sense of humor. Below is a sample of my father's humor and my mother Ann Werner, well, she writes thrillers about serial killers and a career criminal who pickles his toenails and eats them. It's no wonder I find humor in odd places.

Happy New Year!!

Hollywood is in mourning today as another one of it's own passes on. Cheetah the Chimpanzee, 80, died peacefully at Cedars Sinai Medical Center after choking on a banana. His long time friend and agent Cecil the ferret said, "The primate community lost someone special today, no animal star could throw his own feces as far as he could." Cheetah is survived by his 623rd wife LuLu, who currently tests vaccines for the CDC. She will speak through her attorney, a rat of no fixed address who has not been found. 

Among Cheetah's memorable films was "Bed Time For Bonzo" with Ronald Reagan, Shakespeare's "Richard The Third" and a short , "Coming Home" co-starring himself masturbating. It won an honorable mention from "SWP"(sex without partners) in 1978.