1.7.07
Betty, as in Apple Brown.
Another mouse. Her name is Betty, as in Apple Brown. She's tiny, and resides under the kitchen sink, and takes her weekends under our couch. Her hobbies include running across the floor, stealing take-out crumbs, tormenting my Rabbit with her freedom, and being a pain in the ass. My roommate suggested we trap her, and set her free outside. I suggested we leave a trail of breadcrumbs to a shoebox, where inside Def Leppard is playing from a tiny boombox, and there's a small six-pack of Bud.
30.6.07
Gearing up for the DAY.
My 26th birthday is looming, and I'm in current preparations for the biggest party of my life. I've never thrown a party on my own, without my mother for constant support. She always knew the perfect place for Rachel Jankowski's sleeping bag. And my father would read Poe's The Raven to scare the crap out of us. But, I digress.
Feeling quite intrepid today, I took it upon myself to stain a table the boys downstairs were throwing away. Once the seed is planted, I quite enjoy homey projects. I picked up a small can of Minwax and a big paint brush. I swiped a bunch of AM New Yorks, and covered our bitchy ex-roommate's floor with them. Then I stained all day. The color is called Jacobean, but after two coats I think it's a lovely light shade of ebony. With the creative juices flowing, I made a huge collage to hang on our wall. Our apartment will be so wonderful, come July 14th. I just have to make sure I don't become so stressed, I accidentaly kill on of my roommates.
Feeling quite intrepid today, I took it upon myself to stain a table the boys downstairs were throwing away. Once the seed is planted, I quite enjoy homey projects. I picked up a small can of Minwax and a big paint brush. I swiped a bunch of AM New Yorks, and covered our bitchy ex-roommate's floor with them. Then I stained all day. The color is called Jacobean, but after two coats I think it's a lovely light shade of ebony. With the creative juices flowing, I made a huge collage to hang on our wall. Our apartment will be so wonderful, come July 14th. I just have to make sure I don't become so stressed, I accidentaly kill on of my roommates.
26.6.07
What to do, when you're caring for an Oscar winner's child.
Living and working in New York, it's inevitable you'll have to eventually work with an Oscar winner's child. It happens. Just like death and taxes. Here are 5 easy steps to prepare you for a painless encounter with an Oscar winner's child, and perhaps even the Oscar winner.
1. Chances are, the child has been in several of her award-winning parent's films, so she must have an IMDB profile, as well as a Wikipedia page. Read up on the child - no one like an uninformed caregiver.
2. Tidy the playing area, to a calebre that only the child of a celebrity can appreciate. No need to put away Variety, Entertainment Weekly, and People - especially if the child or the child's parent is on the cover.
3. When preparing a meal for the child, always confirm with the parent/assistant/nanny that the child isn't a vegatarian. If the child is a vegatarian, you must alter the entire meal, to the parent/assistant/nanny's specifications. And of course, everything must be organic.
4. Unless the award-winning parent's most recent film was an unexpected blockbuster directed by Michel Gondry, never make mention of the parent's illustrious career to the child. She know's her parent rocks.
5. When meeting the Oscar-winning parent, be demure and slow with your actions. Never make any sudden moves. Remember, you're approacing the situation, not as a fan, but as someone paid to care for a child. The only time a freak-out is permitted, is if the award-winning parent was in a Michel Gondry film.
I hope this helped!
1. Chances are, the child has been in several of her award-winning parent's films, so she must have an IMDB profile, as well as a Wikipedia page. Read up on the child - no one like an uninformed caregiver.
2. Tidy the playing area, to a calebre that only the child of a celebrity can appreciate. No need to put away Variety, Entertainment Weekly, and People - especially if the child or the child's parent is on the cover.
3. When preparing a meal for the child, always confirm with the parent/assistant/nanny that the child isn't a vegatarian. If the child is a vegatarian, you must alter the entire meal, to the parent/assistant/nanny's specifications. And of course, everything must be organic.
4. Unless the award-winning parent's most recent film was an unexpected blockbuster directed by Michel Gondry, never make mention of the parent's illustrious career to the child. She know's her parent rocks.
5. When meeting the Oscar-winning parent, be demure and slow with your actions. Never make any sudden moves. Remember, you're approacing the situation, not as a fan, but as someone paid to care for a child. The only time a freak-out is permitted, is if the award-winning parent was in a Michel Gondry film.
I hope this helped!
30.5.07
When your Daddy loves another lady.
I've been keeping this ordeal to myself; it's actually quite painful to talk about. Things of this nature, don't typically bother me. But, things like this never happened to me before. In mid-April, my Mum called me up, explaining my father was going to Church, for Easter. We're Jewish. He was showing interest in the Messianic Jewsish culture aka. Jews For Jesus. We (my Mum & I) thought is was incredably strange behavior for my father. He's one of the smartest & most funny people I know - so much of "me" is a reflection of him. We also thought, this was just a weird mid-life crisis coming a bit late, and it would pass.
Several weeks later, my Mum calls me again. "Your father put a Jesus Fish, on the car." She then ripped it off.
She went to Florida to visit her mother. When she got back, my father wasn't there. He didn't call her the whole week. When I would call him to check on him - he's been known to fall down the stairs from time, to time - the phone would ring until midnight. He was at Bible Study.
Once my father did come home, he told my mother he wanted to divorce her. They've been married 31 years. And although they constantly fought, I really thought they loved one another. I can't analyze this part of the story right now - it hurts. What I can tell you, is that before my father became a Jew For Jesus (he accepted Jesus as his personal savior), he and my mother managed. They struggled, but managed.
I haven't spoken to him since the beginning of May. We soon found out, he purchased a cell phone, with a separate plan. And he's been chatting a lot with a woman that does Bible Study at the nursing home he works at. I continued to beleive he wasn't cheating on his wife. My father's to smart for that.
It's the woman, who introduced him to Jews For Jesus. And she doesn't know he's married. And she has a son my age. And she's 15 years younger than him. He's 65, mind you.
Part of me want to call this woman, and scream and yell at her. Another part wants to hook her manly son onto musical theatre & tap dancing.
My mother is taking all of this SO much better than I am. I'm really amazed. She says a weight has been lifted off her. I'm so mixed up about the situation, and I really don't know what'll happen next. I'm just working constantly, and surrounding myself with friends & white chocolate. That helps.
Several weeks later, my Mum calls me again. "Your father put a Jesus Fish, on the car." She then ripped it off.
She went to Florida to visit her mother. When she got back, my father wasn't there. He didn't call her the whole week. When I would call him to check on him - he's been known to fall down the stairs from time, to time - the phone would ring until midnight. He was at Bible Study.
Once my father did come home, he told my mother he wanted to divorce her. They've been married 31 years. And although they constantly fought, I really thought they loved one another. I can't analyze this part of the story right now - it hurts. What I can tell you, is that before my father became a Jew For Jesus (he accepted Jesus as his personal savior), he and my mother managed. They struggled, but managed.
I haven't spoken to him since the beginning of May. We soon found out, he purchased a cell phone, with a separate plan. And he's been chatting a lot with a woman that does Bible Study at the nursing home he works at. I continued to beleive he wasn't cheating on his wife. My father's to smart for that.
It's the woman, who introduced him to Jews For Jesus. And she doesn't know he's married. And she has a son my age. And she's 15 years younger than him. He's 65, mind you.
Part of me want to call this woman, and scream and yell at her. Another part wants to hook her manly son onto musical theatre & tap dancing.
My mother is taking all of this SO much better than I am. I'm really amazed. She says a weight has been lifted off her. I'm so mixed up about the situation, and I really don't know what'll happen next. I'm just working constantly, and surrounding myself with friends & white chocolate. That helps.
28.5.07
Busy like a Muff Diver.
How has your Memorial Day weekend been? Mine has be an insane, work-filled frenzy of glamourousness. Almost. You may note, I work on every major holiday - I can't remember the last time I had a day off for Christmas, or got to spend Thanksgiving or Passover with my family. You might also note, I've been doing this since I was 17. More on that, later.
The "ticket lady" family is in London, for the opening of "Fiddler on the Roof" - thanks to my roommate's stealth behavior & crazy-like-a-fox M.O., I discovered, the mother pumped a good chunk of her own personal coinage into this production. And she gets to bring her daughter.
I'm typically not envious of the priveledged children I work with. Granted, their trust funds are are almost as large as the National Debt, they have more toys than the Shah of Burma, and have a better wardrobe than Ms. Furstenburg, they live in completely fucked up homes. Really fucked up. But, when I hear that this little girl gets to travel to London, 3-4 times a year, gets to go to the Tony's, and has more stamps in her passport than a Sailor, I get kinda pissed.
Yes, I'm going to the Tony's as well - but just the rehearsal!
The "ticket lady" family is in London, for the opening of "Fiddler on the Roof" - thanks to my roommate's stealth behavior & crazy-like-a-fox M.O., I discovered, the mother pumped a good chunk of her own personal coinage into this production. And she gets to bring her daughter.
I'm typically not envious of the priveledged children I work with. Granted, their trust funds are are almost as large as the National Debt, they have more toys than the Shah of Burma, and have a better wardrobe than Ms. Furstenburg, they live in completely fucked up homes. Really fucked up. But, when I hear that this little girl gets to travel to London, 3-4 times a year, gets to go to the Tony's, and has more stamps in her passport than a Sailor, I get kinda pissed.
Yes, I'm going to the Tony's as well - but just the rehearsal!
23.5.07
21.4.07
I missed you too!
Level 301 is kaput, and I have to say, I'm sad. These were the best of times for me. It was great being with people that genuinly supported me, no matter the amout I suckage I projected. Some of my 301-ers will join will for 401 beginning at the end of May. Yay for me.
Apparently, my life is still bloggable. I've just chosen to not write about it, lately. I'm not really THAT busy. I come home at 9 or 10, on a daily basis, but I sit at my laptop and just fart around on it. Less farting, more wisdom. Take that lesson, and stick it in your lapel.
Let's see. Some interesting tidbits to chew on.
-I feel rotten. I have the sniffles and sneezes, and I just want some Sleepytime Tea and a sound sleep.
-my roommate threw Oatmeal at me last week. Much like the color red makes bulls angry, hot pink nightgowns with the word "Sexy" spelled out in sequens do the same to my roommate.
-she downloaded a photo of her Vagina onto my computer. After some detective work and determining it was her Vagina, I made it my desktop backround.
-After class last week, I walked in on her having the sex. Consequently, I ate a slice of pizza with the Mafia down the street, instead of the confines of my living room.
-I choreographed a dance routine for the two girls I work with for their talent show. Moments before show time, one girl backed out. I saved the day, and performed with the other girl. I am awesome. At least Kelly Ripa thinks so.
Apparently, my life is still bloggable. I've just chosen to not write about it, lately. I'm not really THAT busy. I come home at 9 or 10, on a daily basis, but I sit at my laptop and just fart around on it. Less farting, more wisdom. Take that lesson, and stick it in your lapel.
Let's see. Some interesting tidbits to chew on.
-I feel rotten. I have the sniffles and sneezes, and I just want some Sleepytime Tea and a sound sleep.
-my roommate threw Oatmeal at me last week. Much like the color red makes bulls angry, hot pink nightgowns with the word "Sexy" spelled out in sequens do the same to my roommate.
-she downloaded a photo of her Vagina onto my computer. After some detective work and determining it was her Vagina, I made it my desktop backround.
-After class last week, I walked in on her having the sex. Consequently, I ate a slice of pizza with the Mafia down the street, instead of the confines of my living room.
-I choreographed a dance routine for the two girls I work with for their talent show. Moments before show time, one girl backed out. I saved the day, and performed with the other girl. I am awesome. At least Kelly Ripa thinks so.
2.4.07
And we're back.
After a quick jaunt to Easthampton, I'm back, packed, and ready to go to Boca with the fam. Not my fam, of course. I purchased a smart new suitcase (which my roommate pointed out, I'm quite pleased with), bought some black chino shorts, packed my Marc Jacobs jellie sandals (which I gladly inherited from a former employer) and my laptop. And my camera of course! I'll be blogging about this adventure as often as I can.
My two other roommates are also getting out of dodge. One is going to Texas, the other California to see their fam for Easter. Who's taking care of my Rabbit? My friend from down the street. Don't worry, she'll be fine. She's also making sure our TV is still there.
My two other roommates are also getting out of dodge. One is going to Texas, the other California to see their fam for Easter. Who's taking care of my Rabbit? My friend from down the street. Don't worry, she'll be fine. She's also making sure our TV is still there.
31.3.07
Had we known...
Here's a funny story; my horrible, ghastly roommate was moving out. Yay! We found a delightful, seemingly normal fella to replace her. My dream of have an living situation like that of Three's Company was slowly coming true. And I'd be Terri Alden (Pricilla Barnes) because of my caring nature, impecable comedic timing, and tremendous rack.
But alas, dreams often don't come true. The horrible roommate decided 3 days before super duper suit-wearing fella moves in, that she's not moving out. I feel so sad about this situation. My father says, "that's life in the Big City, for ya." He also says, "Bebe Neuwirth has legs up to her neck, and Loretta Swit as a chest that won't quit." But I digress. Oh my.
In other news, I'm pacing myself as far as entertainment and excitment is concerned. Tomorrow, I'm working with one family from 10-5, then imediatly getting on the Jitney to East Hampton to deal with the ticket lady and co. Monday night we return, I go home, feed my Rabbit, pick up my suitcase, and sleep at my other bosses house - we have to leave at 7am the next morning. Then we have 6 14 hour days of fun in the sun (yeah right), followed by 2 10 hr days w/ the ticket lady, then I have a makeup class, followed by my normal class. What a week, I'm about to have.
I've been getting complaints from the Peanut Gallery, concerning the quality in my writing, and it's decline. Well, guess what suckers? Improvement is upon us. I'm so tired at the end of the day, and nobody wants to hear about how many posters I counted, how much dry cleaning I picked up, or how I got a kid to stop isiming. I promise to be more motivated, and write better quality goodness. Also, it's difficult because I never used to have a need to censor myself. Now that my friends read this, I can't say what I really think of them. Especially you, Melissa.
But alas, dreams often don't come true. The horrible roommate decided 3 days before super duper suit-wearing fella moves in, that she's not moving out. I feel so sad about this situation. My father says, "that's life in the Big City, for ya." He also says, "Bebe Neuwirth has legs up to her neck, and Loretta Swit as a chest that won't quit." But I digress. Oh my.
In other news, I'm pacing myself as far as entertainment and excitment is concerned. Tomorrow, I'm working with one family from 10-5, then imediatly getting on the Jitney to East Hampton to deal with the ticket lady and co. Monday night we return, I go home, feed my Rabbit, pick up my suitcase, and sleep at my other bosses house - we have to leave at 7am the next morning. Then we have 6 14 hour days of fun in the sun (yeah right), followed by 2 10 hr days w/ the ticket lady, then I have a makeup class, followed by my normal class. What a week, I'm about to have.
I've been getting complaints from the Peanut Gallery, concerning the quality in my writing, and it's decline. Well, guess what suckers? Improvement is upon us. I'm so tired at the end of the day, and nobody wants to hear about how many posters I counted, how much dry cleaning I picked up, or how I got a kid to stop isiming. I promise to be more motivated, and write better quality goodness. Also, it's difficult because I never used to have a need to censor myself. Now that my friends read this, I can't say what I really think of them. Especially you, Melissa.
27.3.07
On second thought.
Cat sitting was...exhausting. I spent a good pasrt of the weekend, worried whether or not the animal would still be alive when I got home, and whether I'd have a job come Monday morning. This cat has a price tag, with an hourly rate. You may be wondering, why there was room for concern regarding the animal's safety. Because she ended up on our fire escape at least once, and in the hallway another time. All I'm saying, is that I was at work the whole time.
22.3.07
The walk home, and the day as a whole.
Class was tough. I'm not going to lie. The Autistic teenager I care for, thinks my teacher's too tough. That's not really the case. I ADORE my teacher. But, class was really weird this evening. Maybe it's the half-way slump. I'm so pleased, because at this time during 201 I hadn't really clicked with my other classmates. None of us really hung out. It wasn't until after 201 was over, that friendships were forged. Whether they will continue forging along, is a different post altogether. But here, we all get along and genuinely like one another. I told them I really don't write about them, but I just can't help it.
I ADORE YOU GUYS!!!
I went to see Chicago today, just to see Phillip Casnoff. Damn you, Phillip Casnoff. Were you to busy giving Bebe Neuwirth a foot massage, to come out to see little old me? He was dead sexy today. Let's use this as a segway to hornyness.
I am. Often. Maybe I hide it well. Or not. I was never the one that got off on a famous actor, or hot sex scene. Or Dexter. No, I'm the one that gets her rocks off, watching certain members of the male species perform on Broadway. Watching some of them, my toes curl right in my shoes. I'm not saying I get bizarrely aroused by a promo shot from Chess in 1986, featuring Phillip Casnoff. But I'm not not saying that either. Maybe what I'm saying, is that I'd like to have sex. Now works for me.
Here's a brief list of fictional characters that I find attractive.
-Barney Rubble from The Flinstones
-Captain Caveman
-Peter Brady
-Jack Tripper
-Joey Gladstone
-The Riddler
-that kid from Even Stevens (he's legal, don't start)
-Harry Potter
-Caracatus Potts (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang)
-Cyclops
-Fred (Scooby Doo)
I ADORE YOU GUYS!!!
I went to see Chicago today, just to see Phillip Casnoff. Damn you, Phillip Casnoff. Were you to busy giving Bebe Neuwirth a foot massage, to come out to see little old me? He was dead sexy today. Let's use this as a segway to hornyness.
I am. Often. Maybe I hide it well. Or not. I was never the one that got off on a famous actor, or hot sex scene. Or Dexter. No, I'm the one that gets her rocks off, watching certain members of the male species perform on Broadway. Watching some of them, my toes curl right in my shoes. I'm not saying I get bizarrely aroused by a promo shot from Chess in 1986, featuring Phillip Casnoff. But I'm not not saying that either. Maybe what I'm saying, is that I'd like to have sex. Now works for me.
Here's a brief list of fictional characters that I find attractive.
-Barney Rubble from The Flinstones
-Captain Caveman
-Peter Brady
-Jack Tripper
-Joey Gladstone
-The Riddler
-that kid from Even Stevens (he's legal, don't start)
-Harry Potter
-Caracatus Potts (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang)
-Cyclops
-Fred (Scooby Doo)
20.3.07
There's a Mao Mao in the hizz-ouse, a Jew on a plane, and another on the street.
Many exciting events are taking place in The Valet's life as of late, and it's best we spill a few of the good tidings.
Firstly, as the post title suggests, we're (my roommates and I) are getting a cat. Sort of. I'm cat-sitting for a week, while my boss and her kid ski the slopes of Park City. The cat's name is Cosette, a name I can't stand, so I call her Mao Mao. Like the Puerto Rican Gang in Brooklyn, during the 1950's. I've always wanted a cat, and I'm curious how she'll interact with my Rabbit.
Also, as I've previously mentioned, but know reiterating, I'm going to Boca for 4 days with a family. I've traveled with familes before (the Hamptons, upstate NY, Jersey shore) but never on a plane. I promised the kids I'd put together kid-friendly airplane bags filled with enough goodies to keep them entertained for two hours. The day before I leave for Florida, I'm going to East Hampton for another job. Whatta life!
But the best news, is that our horrible old roommate if FINALLY moving out. How wonderful!
Firstly, as the post title suggests, we're (my roommates and I) are getting a cat. Sort of. I'm cat-sitting for a week, while my boss and her kid ski the slopes of Park City. The cat's name is Cosette, a name I can't stand, so I call her Mao Mao. Like the Puerto Rican Gang in Brooklyn, during the 1950's. I've always wanted a cat, and I'm curious how she'll interact with my Rabbit.
Also, as I've previously mentioned, but know reiterating, I'm going to Boca for 4 days with a family. I've traveled with familes before (the Hamptons, upstate NY, Jersey shore) but never on a plane. I promised the kids I'd put together kid-friendly airplane bags filled with enough goodies to keep them entertained for two hours. The day before I leave for Florida, I'm going to East Hampton for another job. Whatta life!
But the best news, is that our horrible old roommate if FINALLY moving out. How wonderful!
16.3.07
When it's cold outside, what are you supposed to do?
Watch Showgirls, of course. I love Showgirls, in the way some love The Lost Boys or Citizen Kane. I pick up little nuances everytime I watch. My roommates have never seen this classic, and since the weather was so horrible, I insisted we watch. I'm still trying to convince one of my roommates to dress as Nomi Malone for Halloween.
One of my favorite moments;
when Nomi and James, the black dancer fella are trying out the routine, and he puts his hand down her pants. She stops him, explaining she's on her period. Or as I say, being menstrul. And because she's been around many untrusting people in her life, she tells him to check. She was telling the truth, the whole time!
One of my favorite moments;
when Nomi and James, the black dancer fella are trying out the routine, and he puts his hand down her pants. She stops him, explaining she's on her period. Or as I say, being menstrul. And because she's been around many untrusting people in her life, she tells him to check. She was telling the truth, the whole time!
15.3.07
Getting it? Got it? Good!
Class was pretty fabulous last evening. I'm putting myself out there a bit more, and next week I'll stretch even more. We learning how to perform Organic Openings. The only downside of learning the Organic Openings, is my pants kept falling down - it's hard to get group mind, when you're concerned they're all going to see your underpants.
We all went back to Improdome at the P.I.T. again, and rocked the shite out of it! This time there were two groups of us, and my groups was just brilliant. What can I say? We are hilarious!! Apparently, we're making this a weekly thing, so if you're jonesing for some Valet Improv Lovin' check me out around 11.30 on a Wed. And if you just want some good ole' sweet sweet lovin', say hi to me at Cage Match tonite. I'll be the girl gazing dreamily at Ben Rogers.
My pal Sam, made this for you, which I lovelingly hotlinked. Do you have second billing? Didn't think so. Enjoy!
13.3.07
It's a jumble!
Where have the days gone? Here's what you may have missed:
-I officially hate my job
-I REALLY want to go to the Tony's.
-Did I say I hate my job? I LOVE my job, and I LOVE the Tony's.
-Actually, I enjoy my job, I hate my boss.
-It will most definatly end in tears and screaming, hopefully after the Tony's.
-One of the kids found profos in my wallet.
-This was the one time in the history of me - with the exception of all of my Junior year - that I carried profos with me.
-Ernie Sabella is a jolly man
-My new favorite restaurant might be Joe Allens.
-Old Italian men find me and my hands attractive.
-"Where the Sidewalk Ends" is STILL the best book to get kids to enjoy reading.
-Carrying 100 window cards to 50 restaurants isn't nearly as easy as it looks.
-I'm "the best Nanny in the whole world".
-I have "buzz."
-I still get week in the knees for British & Scottish boys, particularly those working behind a bar.
-I missed you.
-I officially hate my job
-I REALLY want to go to the Tony's.
-Did I say I hate my job? I LOVE my job, and I LOVE the Tony's.
-Actually, I enjoy my job, I hate my boss.
-It will most definatly end in tears and screaming, hopefully after the Tony's.
-One of the kids found profos in my wallet.
-This was the one time in the history of me - with the exception of all of my Junior year - that I carried profos with me.
-Ernie Sabella is a jolly man
-My new favorite restaurant might be Joe Allens.
-Old Italian men find me and my hands attractive.
-"Where the Sidewalk Ends" is STILL the best book to get kids to enjoy reading.
-Carrying 100 window cards to 50 restaurants isn't nearly as easy as it looks.
-I'm "the best Nanny in the whole world".
-I have "buzz."
-I still get week in the knees for British & Scottish boys, particularly those working behind a bar.
-I missed you.
10.3.07
A piece of the puzzle.
My family is small. Really small. It's just myself, and my Mum & Dad. Both my parents are only children, and three of my four grandparents died before I was born. The only living grandparent - my mother's mother - lives a bitter existence in Florida.
Her name is Minerva, she's 86, and we haven't spoken in almost 2 years. I have 2nd or 3rd cousins, that went onto live prosperous, wealthy lives. Apparently, I have a handful of cousins that are doctors & lawyers (per norm), and one that supposedly models for Chanel. Minerva has/had 8 brothers and sisters, who pushed their children to succeed, be captains of industry, have stable families.
She used to tell my Mum, that we're a dysfunctional family because my parents had huge arguments that sometimes resulted in my mother getting a hotel room for the night, and they couldn't control me. She thought my illness could be turned off, if I tried hard enough. Truth is, she abhores anything related to mental illness, and she continues to deny she had any part in depression running in my family.
I've tried to figure out where her intollerance of mental illness stems from, and I think might have figured out a big piece of the puzzle. Their was once a psychiatric hospital in Northeast Philadelphia, called Byberry Hospital. It was for the mentally unstable, and it was exactly what one thinks of when they think "mental institution." Horrible conditions, mistreatment of patients, etc. It was shut down in 1990, and the remaining paitients were transferred to one of the State-run hosiptals. Later in life, I'd work with several of these tranplants, at a nursing home, and their stories were so farfetched, they had to be true. It's a huge, looming property with underground tunnels connecting buildings, that became a refuge for the homeless and the drug addicted. People had websites, offering secret tours - if you were caught, you'd be arrested for trespassing. Growing up, I was told Minvera had 7 brothers & sisters. A great aunt of mine informed me, they had an eigth sibling - a sister. I was told she was admitted to Byberry when she was eight, and lived there until her death at 15. My grandmother refused to speak of her, and I don't even know her name. This was news to even my mother.
Her first husband, Sam died of a heart attack when my mother was 18. Story goes, he doted on my mother, and my grandmother resented it. She was very neglectful of my mother. She remarried two more times - putting another husband in the ground, and another in the poor house. She has a boyfriend, going on 12 years now. He doens't like me either.
She was constantly on me about my weight, my grades, and my asparations. I egged her on, to the point of her needing to rely on Valium just to be in the same room with me. As I became older, and life finally started to come together, we started up a great, mature relationship.
Some of you know, my first time living in New York, wasn't on the Upper East Side. I tried out Tribeca from August to October of '05. Although I was interviewing 3 times a day, practically every day, I couldn't get a job that paid well enough for me to make rent. I called my Grandmother crying, asking for rent money ($1500). She refused to give it to me, because she wanted to teach me a lesson. Because of that "lesson", I had to move back into my parents 1 bedroom apartment, slept on the couch for 4 months, and communted to New York 3 days a week, interviewing. I haven't spoken to Minerva since then. I was her God damned Granddaughter - her only grandchild.
She would send me $50 on my birthday, and Hannukah. And she called me on Yom Kippur, because her endocrinologist said she should try and make peace with me. I hung up on her. Since then, the money has stopped, as have the calls. She asks about me, when she talks with my mother, but my mother is very vague on my life, just as I requested she be.
So, why bring all of this up? Well, it seems I'm traveling with a family to Boca Raton next month - and we'll be stayinh withing 5 miles of Minerva. I have absolutely no desire to reconcile or even acknowlege her. My Mum says she has Parkinson's, and my only periodic question pertaining to her is, "How advanced is it?"
Her name is Minerva, she's 86, and we haven't spoken in almost 2 years. I have 2nd or 3rd cousins, that went onto live prosperous, wealthy lives. Apparently, I have a handful of cousins that are doctors & lawyers (per norm), and one that supposedly models for Chanel. Minerva has/had 8 brothers and sisters, who pushed their children to succeed, be captains of industry, have stable families.
She used to tell my Mum, that we're a dysfunctional family because my parents had huge arguments that sometimes resulted in my mother getting a hotel room for the night, and they couldn't control me. She thought my illness could be turned off, if I tried hard enough. Truth is, she abhores anything related to mental illness, and she continues to deny she had any part in depression running in my family.
I've tried to figure out where her intollerance of mental illness stems from, and I think might have figured out a big piece of the puzzle. Their was once a psychiatric hospital in Northeast Philadelphia, called Byberry Hospital. It was for the mentally unstable, and it was exactly what one thinks of when they think "mental institution." Horrible conditions, mistreatment of patients, etc. It was shut down in 1990, and the remaining paitients were transferred to one of the State-run hosiptals. Later in life, I'd work with several of these tranplants, at a nursing home, and their stories were so farfetched, they had to be true. It's a huge, looming property with underground tunnels connecting buildings, that became a refuge for the homeless and the drug addicted. People had websites, offering secret tours - if you were caught, you'd be arrested for trespassing. Growing up, I was told Minvera had 7 brothers & sisters. A great aunt of mine informed me, they had an eigth sibling - a sister. I was told she was admitted to Byberry when she was eight, and lived there until her death at 15. My grandmother refused to speak of her, and I don't even know her name. This was news to even my mother.
Her first husband, Sam died of a heart attack when my mother was 18. Story goes, he doted on my mother, and my grandmother resented it. She was very neglectful of my mother. She remarried two more times - putting another husband in the ground, and another in the poor house. She has a boyfriend, going on 12 years now. He doens't like me either.
She was constantly on me about my weight, my grades, and my asparations. I egged her on, to the point of her needing to rely on Valium just to be in the same room with me. As I became older, and life finally started to come together, we started up a great, mature relationship.
Some of you know, my first time living in New York, wasn't on the Upper East Side. I tried out Tribeca from August to October of '05. Although I was interviewing 3 times a day, practically every day, I couldn't get a job that paid well enough for me to make rent. I called my Grandmother crying, asking for rent money ($1500). She refused to give it to me, because she wanted to teach me a lesson. Because of that "lesson", I had to move back into my parents 1 bedroom apartment, slept on the couch for 4 months, and communted to New York 3 days a week, interviewing. I haven't spoken to Minerva since then. I was her God damned Granddaughter - her only grandchild.
She would send me $50 on my birthday, and Hannukah. And she called me on Yom Kippur, because her endocrinologist said she should try and make peace with me. I hung up on her. Since then, the money has stopped, as have the calls. She asks about me, when she talks with my mother, but my mother is very vague on my life, just as I requested she be.
So, why bring all of this up? Well, it seems I'm traveling with a family to Boca Raton next month - and we'll be stayinh withing 5 miles of Minerva. I have absolutely no desire to reconcile or even acknowlege her. My Mum says she has Parkinson's, and my only periodic question pertaining to her is, "How advanced is it?"
A 36-hour existence.
I have to be at work in two hours. I chose not to sleep, but to chat with my roommate all night, order take-out, and watch Tivoed Lost, that HILARIOUS Rainn Wilson episode of SNL, 3 episodes of Jeopardy, and NY1 on mute. I'm not really groggy, and I've functioned like this before. I wouldn't recommend a normal person, of average strength being awake for 24 hours, then working a 13hour day. Ok, perhaps I'm a bit tired. I just need to use some of my H20+ Mint body cream, pop a couple caffine pills, slick on some Cranberry Lip Glaze, and I'll be off.
By the way, my Rabbit is extremely perturbed with me. I'll delve into her new (now deceased) cage visitor at another time. Anyway, the visitor chewed a hole in her bed, and stuffing starting coming out. Since that's harmful if ingested, I had to throw the bed away. In place of the bed, I bought her a delightful, super soft arm chair. Oh, well she's very upset; thumping, throwing her chair around, dumping her food. She's very much like me.
Stay tuned for our 1st annual Easter card - It'll be a freaking delight!
By the way, my Rabbit is extremely perturbed with me. I'll delve into her new (now deceased) cage visitor at another time. Anyway, the visitor chewed a hole in her bed, and stuffing starting coming out. Since that's harmful if ingested, I had to throw the bed away. In place of the bed, I bought her a delightful, super soft arm chair. Oh, well she's very upset; thumping, throwing her chair around, dumping her food. She's very much like me.
Stay tuned for our 1st annual Easter card - It'll be a freaking delight!
9.3.07
To do.
I've been in Philly. I've been home since early Thursday morning. Penn Station at 8am is nothing short of Hell. And I know Hell. Many things to take care of; got a new driver's license photo taken (I STILL look sleepy in driver's license photos), purchased a new bed for my Rabbit, rocked out to Benny Goodman on the tape player of my Mum's Pontiac, and didn't spend nearly as much at Target, as I could've.
Speaking of Target, has anyone tried Method cleaning products? They're super duper cheap at Target, and super duper awesome! My roommate turned me on to them; all natural ingrediants, bio-degradeable goodness, yummy scents. Females dig this BS. But, I reccomend you try them - the candles are quite nice as well.
Speaking of Target, has anyone tried Method cleaning products? They're super duper cheap at Target, and super duper awesome! My roommate turned me on to them; all natural ingrediants, bio-degradeable goodness, yummy scents. Females dig this BS. But, I reccomend you try them - the candles are quite nice as well.
But wait.
I've got something to say. No, not over there. Look down. Lower. A lot lower! Can you hear me? Should I speak up? Oh, maybe if I write it out - oh, sky writing would do quite nicely. Hmmm, Jumbo Tron! That's it. I'll totally get my point across with that! This is so great, because I have so much important stuff to say, and I just know you want to hear it. Right? Hey, wait - where did you go? Oh, there you are - you were where? Talking to those people, in the other room? You want to go back? Sure, no I don't mind. You need what? $10 bucks? Hey, make it $15. I know, I know - I am sooooooo nice. That's kind of you to say. No, I won't mind if you say horrible things about me, to people that never met me before. I mean, once they hear the stories, the won't want to come within 50 feet of me anyway. So, really you're doing me a favor. Just for that, make it $20! What's that you say? No, I disagree - I do know how to say "no", and I really don't crave big you know whats. But, don't worry - feel free to tell any and all people that I can't and that I do. I mean, just look at you with you're big group in the next room - you telling lies about people you don't really know is a heck of a lot more interesting, then me telling them how wonderful you are. I guess it's time to shift the conversation, anyway. I agree - it's time for me to get going. Yeah, I'll be fine. What, it's only 3am - the "L"'s still running, right? You assume so? Good enough for me. Hey, are you going to be all right getting hom - oh, you've already left.
8.3.07
Fancy Spread!
Check out the lastest issue of NY Magazine - FABULOUS spread of the cast! Wee Hoo! Wee Woo!
I'm pretty famous today.
Class was a beast tonight. I can blame my allergies acting up, as to why I wasn't "present" but that's not it. I'm showing all the symptoms of being "in my head." I spoke with my teacher after class, and he said I get it - I just have to trust myself. I would really love to.
It helps I'm really comfortable with my class already. We went to The P.I.T. this evening, and a few of us performed at Improdome. I quite enjoyed it, and it's really good to be performing again. We didn't win, but our group knocked a bunch out of the park. Hopefully, we'll have a practice group going soon.
I'm about to pass out, so goodnight to all you lucky people.
It helps I'm really comfortable with my class already. We went to The P.I.T. this evening, and a few of us performed at Improdome. I quite enjoyed it, and it's really good to be performing again. We didn't win, but our group knocked a bunch out of the park. Hopefully, we'll have a practice group going soon.
I'm about to pass out, so goodnight to all you lucky people.
7.3.07
I'm ALL moved in!
Officially! Now, I can take that $150.00/month and buy lots more cosmetics! No, not really - I'm joking. See my smirk? No, really I'm going to take the money and join a gym. I'd like to stave off the diabetes for as long as possible
MOVING DAY!
MOVING DAY!
6.3.07
Speaking of Broadway crushes...
This is my original Broadway crush. Michael Cerveris - I've seen every Broadway show he's ever done.
-Tommy
-Titanic
-Assassins
-Sweeney Todd
-Love Musik is next!!!
Whee!
-Tommy
-Titanic
-Assassins
-Sweeney Todd
-Love Musik is next!!!
Whee!
Never engage the Tigress; she's lible to eat your face off.
Not really newsworthy, but I purchased some new jeans over the weekend. Not just any jeans, but the sort that stains your legs indigo while elongating your legs, and making you smile for miles. Apparently, my boss noticed my jeans, and all around pleasant demeanor, because she's been really nice to me the past two days. And that scares me.
In the past two days, she's asked about my weekend, complimented me on my weight loss and dewey glow, pardoned me when I sneezed, and gave me some free passes to the Reebok gym on the UWS. She also invited me to some show-related business this weekend, at the Tourneau watch store on Madison. If I finagle carefully, I can show off my cute new dress to the cast and work a 13hr day. So, something's afoot.
Old Springs Pike, was a decent show this evening. It's folk rock, which isn't exactly my bag. But, Johnny can surely rock out, so I come for that. And you should too. We finally spoke this evening, chatting about our mutual likes and dislikes (improv, and my boss respectively.) He's oh so young, but I'm not one to discriminate.
Tomorrow is sort of a big-ish day. I'm FINALLY emptiying my storage unit, with the help of a man-with-a-van. Where the hell were you people, when I needed you? And then class. It's strange, I've run into two of my classmates out and about, very randomly. That never happens to me. It must be Kismet - either that, or we all have a crush on Johnny Gallagher and we all take the 2 train at 9.30 in the morning.
In the past two days, she's asked about my weekend, complimented me on my weight loss and dewey glow, pardoned me when I sneezed, and gave me some free passes to the Reebok gym on the UWS. She also invited me to some show-related business this weekend, at the Tourneau watch store on Madison. If I finagle carefully, I can show off my cute new dress to the cast and work a 13hr day. So, something's afoot.
Old Springs Pike, was a decent show this evening. It's folk rock, which isn't exactly my bag. But, Johnny can surely rock out, so I come for that. And you should too. We finally spoke this evening, chatting about our mutual likes and dislikes (improv, and my boss respectively.) He's oh so young, but I'm not one to discriminate.
Tomorrow is sort of a big-ish day. I'm FINALLY emptiying my storage unit, with the help of a man-with-a-van. Where the hell were you people, when I needed you? And then class. It's strange, I've run into two of my classmates out and about, very randomly. That never happens to me. It must be Kismet - either that, or we all have a crush on Johnny Gallagher and we all take the 2 train at 9.30 in the morning.
5.3.07
We found a good one.
A new roommate, that is. Our open house was a smashing success, and although we only saw 4 people, it was an easy decision. And yes, that was me on the fire escape in my pajamas, shaking the rug out - you're welcome.
He's a very nice Brooklyn-born boy, who rounds out the craziness the rest of the household posesses. I've only lived with my boyfriend, but never another guy. He seems smart enough to put the seat down, and to stay out of our own personal dramas.
We all got the warm fuzzies from him. And for the three of us to agree whole-heartedly on something is a pretty big deal. He was warm, amiable, and asked to play with my Rabbit - I know other boys who don't care for such things. We're all super excited. Whee! New Blood!
In other news, GO SEE BLACK SNAKE MOAN!!!!!!!!!!! It's the best movie involving a chained up Nympho since Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! It's such an amazing film, I can't say enough good things about it. So I won't. Go see it now!
He's a very nice Brooklyn-born boy, who rounds out the craziness the rest of the household posesses. I've only lived with my boyfriend, but never another guy. He seems smart enough to put the seat down, and to stay out of our own personal dramas.
We all got the warm fuzzies from him. And for the three of us to agree whole-heartedly on something is a pretty big deal. He was warm, amiable, and asked to play with my Rabbit - I know other boys who don't care for such things. We're all super excited. Whee! New Blood!
In other news, GO SEE BLACK SNAKE MOAN!!!!!!!!!!! It's the best movie involving a chained up Nympho since Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! It's such an amazing film, I can't say enough good things about it. So I won't. Go see it now!
3.3.07
2.3.07
The "help".
The families I work with, have additional "help". I've worked in fully staffed households (butler, maids, Major Domo, security detail, driver, dog walker) and we all know what happen to those gigs. But still, the current families have a handful of "extra hands".
One mother has two other nannies besides myself, and a weekly housekeeper - not uncommon. The Autistic boy I work with, has two other nannies, a live-in housekeeper, and a cook. But the family I work with most often, has 3 other nannies, a full-time housekeeper, a bookkeeper, and me. And I do everything else that's not in the above's job description.
I've only ever worked with two of those three nannies. One is a middle-aged woman from Trinadad, who instantly brightens up my day. She's hilarious, doesn't mince words, and adores me - which is always a good thing. The other women is from Guatemala, and speaks little to no English. I speak enough Spanish to get me out of a jam, but she gets really offended when I try and speak Spanish to her. It's awkward sitting across from someone you know, and not speaking to them. She's warmed up to me - I have the best intentions, and a winning smile - but there's some resentment on her part, I can see.
One mother has two other nannies besides myself, and a weekly housekeeper - not uncommon. The Autistic boy I work with, has two other nannies, a live-in housekeeper, and a cook. But the family I work with most often, has 3 other nannies, a full-time housekeeper, a bookkeeper, and me. And I do everything else that's not in the above's job description.
I've only ever worked with two of those three nannies. One is a middle-aged woman from Trinadad, who instantly brightens up my day. She's hilarious, doesn't mince words, and adores me - which is always a good thing. The other women is from Guatemala, and speaks little to no English. I speak enough Spanish to get me out of a jam, but she gets really offended when I try and speak Spanish to her. It's awkward sitting across from someone you know, and not speaking to them. She's warmed up to me - I have the best intentions, and a winning smile - but there's some resentment on her part, I can see.
1.3.07
Improv, class 1!
My father has explained to me, Jack Benny would always get nervous before The Tonight Show. I'm no Jack Benny, but I felt like him before class tonight. I was quite nervous. But guess what, fans & foes? I rocked the crapp out of class! It was wonderful, I was fabulous, and the class was super-duper awesome. See you at Myspace at UCB tomorrow night! Time for bed; I have to be in early - my boss is getting a Colonoscopy. It's common knowledge, don't you know?
27.2.07
Customer Support, my ass!
Back to the real world. Well, as "real" as one can expect with my life. Yesterday and today, have proved to be extremely trying days. My boss purchased a Palm Treo 750, the newsest model. It's only compatible with a PC, which she doesn't have. Yet, she's convinced she can sync up her old Palm to my PC, and magically the info will transfer to her new Treo. I was on the phone with Tech Support until 10pm last night, and for 6 hours today. Bottom line, it can't be done. She kept yelling at me to "be more forceful" "demand to speak to a manager." Bite me. Really.
The 7yr old made me a present over the weekend; a replica of my apartment made of Legos, complete with a roommate in the living room. I'm glad someone appreciates me around here.
Just a reminder, Johnny's band Old Springs Pike is performing next week at the Knitting Factory! Get your tickets, while you can.
Oh yeah, I begin level 3 tomorrow at UCB. Nervous? Um, hell's bells yes!
The 7yr old made me a present over the weekend; a replica of my apartment made of Legos, complete with a roommate in the living room. I'm glad someone appreciates me around here.
Just a reminder, Johnny's band Old Springs Pike is performing next week at the Knitting Factory! Get your tickets, while you can.
Oh yeah, I begin level 3 tomorrow at UCB. Nervous? Um, hell's bells yes!
25.2.07
And we're back.
It was an "event", shall we say. It was emotional, surprising, underwhelming, outstanding. Basically, it was another topsy-turvy weekend for me.
I didn't sleep at all, the night before. I left the house very early, put my Ipod on shuffle, and shuffled to the L. I'm a big believer in symbolism, and the first song to come on was "Bless the Lord" from Godspell. He and I were both in Godspell. Don't start with me - I'll take what optimism I can get. I was Sonia, if you were curious.
He just moved into a new apartment, and the proper thing to do is to give a housewarming gift. I had no time to purchase one earlier in the week, so I hoped a dumb touristy shop in Times Square was open at 7.30 in the moring. One was. I got him some stupid, horribly tacky homey things I knew he would like. I got some wrapping ware at Duane Reade, and wrapped the thing on the bus. Hey, I was a Girl Scout - always be prepared, or fake it 'til you make it.
Once we arrived in Reading, memories started seeping in. I saw the big event sign on the hill at the Inn at Reading, where I had my Bat Mitzvah. I remember standing next to it, in the gray rain, wearing my shoes dyed to match my dress. We had to take the picture quickly, because a wedding was waiting for their shot. And we passed the multiplex where I had my first group date - we saw Philadelphia. Yes, I chose the movie.
I was practially jumping out of my skin. I had my whole "exit off the bus" planned. Of course, he was 10 min late. But the homeless guys waiting at the bus station, seemed to approve.
I won't go into a shot-by-shot recount of the events that transpired, don't worry.
He introduced me to the cast of his show, and they were all so welcoming. It was a workshop of an original piece. My big complaint was the first act was over two hours long. But he was fabulous. He sang sitting atop a piano, and had perfect comedic timing. He's making this SO hard!
It was a pleasing weekend, all in all. It's even more apparent now, we're ridiculously different. Equally, it's quite clear I'll never find someone like him. We left things rather optimistic; I could see myself spending the rest of my life with him, or never speaking to him again.
I didn't sleep at all, the night before. I left the house very early, put my Ipod on shuffle, and shuffled to the L. I'm a big believer in symbolism, and the first song to come on was "Bless the Lord" from Godspell. He and I were both in Godspell. Don't start with me - I'll take what optimism I can get. I was Sonia, if you were curious.
He just moved into a new apartment, and the proper thing to do is to give a housewarming gift. I had no time to purchase one earlier in the week, so I hoped a dumb touristy shop in Times Square was open at 7.30 in the moring. One was. I got him some stupid, horribly tacky homey things I knew he would like. I got some wrapping ware at Duane Reade, and wrapped the thing on the bus. Hey, I was a Girl Scout - always be prepared, or fake it 'til you make it.
Once we arrived in Reading, memories started seeping in. I saw the big event sign on the hill at the Inn at Reading, where I had my Bat Mitzvah. I remember standing next to it, in the gray rain, wearing my shoes dyed to match my dress. We had to take the picture quickly, because a wedding was waiting for their shot. And we passed the multiplex where I had my first group date - we saw Philadelphia. Yes, I chose the movie.
I was practially jumping out of my skin. I had my whole "exit off the bus" planned. Of course, he was 10 min late. But the homeless guys waiting at the bus station, seemed to approve.
I won't go into a shot-by-shot recount of the events that transpired, don't worry.
He introduced me to the cast of his show, and they were all so welcoming. It was a workshop of an original piece. My big complaint was the first act was over two hours long. But he was fabulous. He sang sitting atop a piano, and had perfect comedic timing. He's making this SO hard!
It was a pleasing weekend, all in all. It's even more apparent now, we're ridiculously different. Equally, it's quite clear I'll never find someone like him. We left things rather optimistic; I could see myself spending the rest of my life with him, or never speaking to him again.
24.2.07
Thanks for the reminder!
The big question. Why am I so scared to see this guy, this weekend? It's not just about this guy, but everything this guy symbolizes. Reading was where I became ill, and one could say, it was in part due to him. With this guy, this was my first foray into performing. When I moved away, I pretty much abandoned the idea of performing for years. He was the one that got the wheels turning, putting the idea into my head about moving to New York.
In Creative Writing class, I would write many stories about the two of us running away from this awful town, to Manhattan. Mrs. Becker said I had a lot of promise, and that pulling out Tic Tacs in class was unsophisticated and inappropriate. She's dead now.
This was the place, where I quickly realized I was so different. Now, I treasure that, I wear it as a horribly disfigured badge. But as a young teen, being different is your key to the Gates of Hell. Theatre and music were the only places I felt accepted. And I was good at it. This guy reenforced everything good and wonderful about me.
The first time I met him, we were working in a summer improv class. I'd never heard of Improv before, but I thought it was easier then memorizing lines. He was this tall and lanky Hispanic 13yr old, and horribly sunburned from being at the Jersey shore for Independence Day. There wasn't anything spectactular about him. I'd never met a boy that enjoyed theatre and singing and acting.
He went to Parochial school, and lived in a pretty crummy part of town. Our parents didn't really approve of the two of us, due to religious reasons, among other things. But we were just kids, nothing could come of it.
School started in the Fall, and I began auditioning for community productions around the county. At auditions, I'd be on the lookout for him or ask about him, but nothing came of that.
Eigth grade was one of my most difficult years, with being Bat Mitzvahed, being in two shows at once, band & chorus, my father losing his job, and the illness now running my life. When I performed, it never was an issue. I thought I'd never hear from the guy again.
That summer I entered the same improv workshop again, and he was there. Everything came rushing back, times 10. We began speaking on the phone, every few nights. Unfortunatly, I couldn't function in the program this time, and had a mild breakdown during rehearsals. The director called me, the day before we opened and told me I was out because I was "mentally unstabile". I'll never ever forget that for as long as I live.
I moved back to Philadelphia, a few months later. Our phone calls began taking place on a nightly basis. One night, I told him I loved him. He didn't reciprocate the feelings. Of course we were just kids, how could we know what love is. I knew.
When I found out I was going away to school, the understanding was that I would be unable to have easy access to my friends and my life in Philly. I wanted to close certain chapters in my life, so I could open new ones.
A few weeks before I left, he came down. I'm not sure what I was expecting, and I figured out what he was expecting. After he left, I burned the only photo I had of him, and went on with my life. As far as I was concerned, he was poison to me and I couldn't have that at this point. I was trying to get well.
As I became older, I slowly but surely forgot about him. I no longer sought out people showing similarities to him. I quit this stupid obsession.
But with every major step forward (finally learing to drive, working full-time, loosing 100lbs, accepting myself, giving up medication, and moving to New York), I thought about him. Where would I be, had I stayed in Reading. Had we grown together. I know, I wouldn't be here.
We found each other a few months ago, on Myspace. We're very different from the way we were 10 yrs ago. And we're polar opposites of each other now. That's a comfort to me, because it makes this a bit easier.
I swore to myself, I'd never go back to Reading. It was a horrible place, and I've blocked so much of it. When I made my millions, I wanted to buy the theatre I performed in, knock it down, and build a Bennigans. Reading never had a Bennigans. I really didn't think it would take this guy to bring me back to the place where it all began.
In Creative Writing class, I would write many stories about the two of us running away from this awful town, to Manhattan. Mrs. Becker said I had a lot of promise, and that pulling out Tic Tacs in class was unsophisticated and inappropriate. She's dead now.
This was the place, where I quickly realized I was so different. Now, I treasure that, I wear it as a horribly disfigured badge. But as a young teen, being different is your key to the Gates of Hell. Theatre and music were the only places I felt accepted. And I was good at it. This guy reenforced everything good and wonderful about me.
The first time I met him, we were working in a summer improv class. I'd never heard of Improv before, but I thought it was easier then memorizing lines. He was this tall and lanky Hispanic 13yr old, and horribly sunburned from being at the Jersey shore for Independence Day. There wasn't anything spectactular about him. I'd never met a boy that enjoyed theatre and singing and acting.
He went to Parochial school, and lived in a pretty crummy part of town. Our parents didn't really approve of the two of us, due to religious reasons, among other things. But we were just kids, nothing could come of it.
School started in the Fall, and I began auditioning for community productions around the county. At auditions, I'd be on the lookout for him or ask about him, but nothing came of that.
Eigth grade was one of my most difficult years, with being Bat Mitzvahed, being in two shows at once, band & chorus, my father losing his job, and the illness now running my life. When I performed, it never was an issue. I thought I'd never hear from the guy again.
That summer I entered the same improv workshop again, and he was there. Everything came rushing back, times 10. We began speaking on the phone, every few nights. Unfortunatly, I couldn't function in the program this time, and had a mild breakdown during rehearsals. The director called me, the day before we opened and told me I was out because I was "mentally unstabile". I'll never ever forget that for as long as I live.
I moved back to Philadelphia, a few months later. Our phone calls began taking place on a nightly basis. One night, I told him I loved him. He didn't reciprocate the feelings. Of course we were just kids, how could we know what love is. I knew.
When I found out I was going away to school, the understanding was that I would be unable to have easy access to my friends and my life in Philly. I wanted to close certain chapters in my life, so I could open new ones.
A few weeks before I left, he came down. I'm not sure what I was expecting, and I figured out what he was expecting. After he left, I burned the only photo I had of him, and went on with my life. As far as I was concerned, he was poison to me and I couldn't have that at this point. I was trying to get well.
As I became older, I slowly but surely forgot about him. I no longer sought out people showing similarities to him. I quit this stupid obsession.
But with every major step forward (finally learing to drive, working full-time, loosing 100lbs, accepting myself, giving up medication, and moving to New York), I thought about him. Where would I be, had I stayed in Reading. Had we grown together. I know, I wouldn't be here.
We found each other a few months ago, on Myspace. We're very different from the way we were 10 yrs ago. And we're polar opposites of each other now. That's a comfort to me, because it makes this a bit easier.
I swore to myself, I'd never go back to Reading. It was a horrible place, and I've blocked so much of it. When I made my millions, I wanted to buy the theatre I performed in, knock it down, and build a Bennigans. Reading never had a Bennigans. I really didn't think it would take this guy to bring me back to the place where it all began.
23.2.07
A Cease-Pool of Evil.
My roommate still hasn't moved out yet. As we know, I abhore her, and everything about her. I went to bed quite late last evening, around 5, and awoke fairly late today, around 2pm. I go into the bathroom, and the window's wide open, my big yellow towel hanging from the sill blowing in the frigid breeze. Perhaps it's my zany living room dwelling roommate, up to her old tricks. But, I enter the living room, she's sound asleep. The TV is blaring One Life to Live, and the coffee table is littered with mirrors and straws. I've accepted my roommate's habits, but I don't neccessaraly like them.
Her silver-plated shot glasses were corraded with her Cover Girl Lipslicks, and the drain was clogged with her pubes. Not attractive.
Her silver-plated shot glasses were corraded with her Cover Girl Lipslicks, and the drain was clogged with her pubes. Not attractive.
22.2.07
It's Beautification Day!
In preparation for this weekend's sojourn, I'm making visual improvements upon myself. It's a day to sew buttons back onto coats (no, I cannot sew. But, the Tailor on 10th St. does marvelous work), color hair (yes, I do that myself, remember?), begin outfit organization (my roommate has final approval), and change my Rabbit's cage (any volunteers?).
I was quite excited to have this day to myself, but another roommate magically came home from work just now. Le sigh.
If you can't tell, I'm extremely nervous about this weekend. Petrified, in fact. I have to rinse the colorant out, but I'll delve more into this issue later.
I was quite excited to have this day to myself, but another roommate magically came home from work just now. Le sigh.
If you can't tell, I'm extremely nervous about this weekend. Petrified, in fact. I have to rinse the colorant out, but I'll delve more into this issue later.
What I was supposed to do, as opposed to what I did do.
It was a busy off day, today. I woke at noon - which is a rarity for me - and went to Target with my roommate. Target is a magical place where time stands still. You go in at 2pm, find cute clothes and and Super Glue, and walk out 7 hours later. I've never been to the Brooklyn Target, and I was very happy to have an expert with me.
I was supposed to go see Sho perform at UCB tonight, but Brooklyn had other plans for me. So, to the two standby-ers, who got in because I never showed up - your quite welcome. I was home in tim to watch Lost, and drink some wine. Apparently, my roomate and I are drunk a little bit. I know this because she's wearing nothing but a coat , be-bopping around the living room, holding my Woody Allen DVD collection. Now, she's humping the TV. And I'm sort of sloshed, because I can't stop giggling. Now she's humping the green chair. She's just informed me it's dress-up time. She's a cheerleader. Now she's putting her underwear. Clean ones, I hope.
Update; she's just informed me, "It's time to get serious." Then she tried to smother me with a floor pillow. Now, she's a Pirate.
I was supposed to go see Sho perform at UCB tonight, but Brooklyn had other plans for me. So, to the two standby-ers, who got in because I never showed up - your quite welcome. I was home in tim to watch Lost, and drink some wine. Apparently, my roomate and I are drunk a little bit. I know this because she's wearing nothing but a coat , be-bopping around the living room, holding my Woody Allen DVD collection. Now, she's humping the TV. And I'm sort of sloshed, because I can't stop giggling. Now she's humping the green chair. She's just informed me it's dress-up time. She's a cheerleader. Now she's putting her underwear. Clean ones, I hope.
Update; she's just informed me, "It's time to get serious." Then she tried to smother me with a floor pillow. Now, she's a Pirate.
21.2.07
Johnny's Band.
Johnny Gallagher, and his band, Old Springs Pike are performing at the Knitting Factory on March 6th, at 7pm! I finally purchased my tickets, but please let me know if you'd like to join me and the gang, for this delightful evening!
Oh, and don't forget; Spring Awakening will be on the View tomorrow morning. It's worth putting up w/ Joy Behar & Rosie. Trust me.
Oh, and don't forget; Spring Awakening will be on the View tomorrow morning. It's worth putting up w/ Joy Behar & Rosie. Trust me.
Don't forget!
The delightful cast of Spring Awakening will be on Letterman this evening, and the View tomorrow morning. Duncan Sheik will be performing with the band, and David will most likely be interviewing him. Also, they've reworked the choreography, so expect something new and wonderful from my pal, Johnny and the rest of the fellas.
20.2.07
A Grand Day Out!
It was Ladies' Day Out, today. Put on your prettiest skirt and some flavored lipgloss, grab your doll, and drop some cash. Follow me!
Start with lunch at the Jekyll and Hyde Club, in Midtown. Be prepared to spend some serious scratch - lunch for 3 was $60. Yes, that includes the entrance fee. Also, you must be willing to put on your best British accent, so you can screw up the costumed actor messing with you at your table, while you're trying to eat.
Then, hop over to F.A.O. Schwartz to check out stuffed animals bigger than some aparments, and gasoline-powered Jaguars and Audis - just the right size for that Mohair Teddy Bear!
Don't worry, Lego Chewbacca will save you! Try your hand at "Heart and Soul" - I'm quite good. Sorry, no photographic proof of that.
Cap off the day, with a visit to Dylan's Candy Bar. I don't recommend the Shirley Temple Floats - no matter how pretty they look, two tired 7yr olds will be ungreatful at this point in the day.
To keep two little girls happy during President's Day Break, follow my fool-proof plan, and you'll walk away having had a delightul day, get to do things you could never do with your own money, and go home with next month's rent in your pocket.
18.2.07
Speaking of film...
Some of you know I'm super duper excited to see that new movie, "Black Snake Moan." Super duper excited doesn't even begin to cover it. The girl is CHAINED UP! She's a nympho! Come on, that's good cinema! I'm a HUGE Christina Ricci fan, and I eagerly await any film she puts out. Have we seen the advertising campaign they put up around the subways? Everything really is hotter down South!
For some fun, and to take the "Are you a Nymph?" quiz, check out the film's website. If you're curious, I'm a "Tame Nymph." Yeah, I'm rather surprised too - I thought I was at least a "Moderate Nymph."
For some fun, and to take the "Are you a Nymph?" quiz, check out the film's website. If you're curious, I'm a "Tame Nymph." Yeah, I'm rather surprised too - I thought I was at least a "Moderate Nymph."
We have a trailer.
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Laura Linney isn't nearly as imposing as she should be. A family like that would NEVER allow their kid to go on the subway. Like I've been saying, don't get me started.
17.2.07
A good, good day with no furor.
As the title implies, today was a wonderful, delightful day. Arriving bright and early, armed with Monopoly and Shel Silverstien, it was a picture perfect Nanny in New York time. The marathon Monopoly game began at 9am, paused for lunch around noon, and reconviened around 1.30. The 7 yr old beat me, royally around 3.30. Grandma treated everyone to lunch at Jackson Hole, and she spoke down to me, only slightly. She reminds me a great deal of my Grandmother, whom I haven't spoken with in almost two years. My Grandmother was a condesending woman, who greatly disproved of my depression and subsequent behaviors, and the final outcome - me living. In my experience, many Jewish Grandmothers are very similar, and my bosses mother is no exception. Perhaps she's not as bad as I say, and I certainly get points for taking stellar care of her grandchildren. But she still resents me.
After Monoply, we went to the Natural History Museum to check out the new exhibit, "Origins of the Human Body." It's pretty sweet, and I certainly recommend it to all ages. Full on skeletons, awesome dioramas. Two opposable thumbs up! Funny, huh?
We dined on Latkes at a Jewish Deli on the UWS; apropos for the day, I suppose. After or filling meal of Jewish soul food, we read from "Where the Sidewalk Ends", my most favorite childrens book in the universerse. Just ask me to receit "Sick" from memory.
I closed the evening with songs (yes, I'm the Nanny that sings the kids to bed) by Billy Joel (Downeaster Alexa), Les Miz, and my bedtime ritual song, "I'd Rather Be Blue" from Funny Girl.
I'm home now, no one else is, and I'm enjoying the momentary peace. God knows, it doesn't long around here. What, you're disapointed this post isn't as salacious as it should be? Hey, dummy what do you want from me? Nothing exciting happens when you work all weekend - I've gone over that with you. Although I have an opening in my Jerk Circle, you pestering me isn't going to get you in. And yes, Matt Dillon - it's still "on."
By the way, I'm very, very proud of this fella, and his Maneating Flesh of a Virus improv group. I recomend you follow their exploits. They had people asking, "What the crap is a Thank You, Robot, and where can I get one?"
After Monoply, we went to the Natural History Museum to check out the new exhibit, "Origins of the Human Body." It's pretty sweet, and I certainly recommend it to all ages. Full on skeletons, awesome dioramas. Two opposable thumbs up! Funny, huh?
We dined on Latkes at a Jewish Deli on the UWS; apropos for the day, I suppose. After or filling meal of Jewish soul food, we read from "Where the Sidewalk Ends", my most favorite childrens book in the universerse. Just ask me to receit "Sick" from memory.
I closed the evening with songs (yes, I'm the Nanny that sings the kids to bed) by Billy Joel (Downeaster Alexa), Les Miz, and my bedtime ritual song, "I'd Rather Be Blue" from Funny Girl.
I'm home now, no one else is, and I'm enjoying the momentary peace. God knows, it doesn't long around here. What, you're disapointed this post isn't as salacious as it should be? Hey, dummy what do you want from me? Nothing exciting happens when you work all weekend - I've gone over that with you. Although I have an opening in my Jerk Circle, you pestering me isn't going to get you in. And yes, Matt Dillon - it's still "on."
By the way, I'm very, very proud of this fella, and his Maneating Flesh of a Virus improv group. I recomend you follow their exploits. They had people asking, "What the crap is a Thank You, Robot, and where can I get one?"
16.2.07
Fantasia Barrino says hi!
Hand delivering a package for my boss in Midtown, she and her entourage accompanied me on the elevator. She smiled at me, and I smirked at her, because that's what I do when I see a C-Level celebrity.
15.2.07
Damn you, Matt Dillon!
Ok, Dillon, I get it. There's something about you, or something about me, but let's face it; we'll never be friends. You scowl at me, and close elevators on me because perhaps I'm a threat to you. Maybe I am; I perform menial public relation tasks for a Broadway show! And I take care of kids! What's the story, Matt? Are you mad at the world because of Herbie Fully Loaded and One Night at McCool's? You can't coast of Coppola forever.
One of these days, when we're both on Conan, I'll tell the story of the time you let the elevator door close on me. And we'll laugh, and laugh. But until that time, let it be known, I loathe you Matt Dillion. We are now sworn enemies. It's officially "on." My feud with you has begun.
One of these days, when we're both on Conan, I'll tell the story of the time you let the elevator door close on me. And we'll laugh, and laugh. But until that time, let it be known, I loathe you Matt Dillion. We are now sworn enemies. It's officially "on." My feud with you has begun.
14.2.07
The things we do for love.
I had this elaborate post, detailing the two times I've been in love. Truly in love. The sort of love that makes you crazy. But, I've decided to save that for the memoir. Looking at my post, I realized how drama-filled my life was, compared to now. Yes, kids, my life is a walk in the park now.
In my last blog, I shared so much. I've since become more guarded, and I'm sad to say, that's the way it's got to be.
In my last blog, I shared so much. I've since become more guarded, and I'm sad to say, that's the way it's got to be.
Could this Valentine's Day get any better?
It's Valentine's Day, a Snow Day, and my Off Day! I have a fun day of Jack Squat planned. It all began last night, when I got home. I had to work horribly late, so I could see my boss off the London. I then ordered Mexican food, watched the news, and played Monopoly with my roommate, royaly beating her ass. I'm like Sybil, when I play Monopoly. And I will kick your ass.
After futsing around, just hanging out it's now time to pay some bills. And time to watch All in the Family. Who doesn't love All in the Family? Today's episode is the one where Gloria gets fired because she's pregnant.
Tonight, I'm watching Lost, opening a bottle of wine, and thanking God I don't have anyone to share this day with - because I'm not going out in this weather.
After futsing around, just hanging out it's now time to pay some bills. And time to watch All in the Family. Who doesn't love All in the Family? Today's episode is the one where Gloria gets fired because she's pregnant.
Tonight, I'm watching Lost, opening a bottle of wine, and thanking God I don't have anyone to share this day with - because I'm not going out in this weather.
13.2.07
You know you've arrived...
when the New Yorker draws a cartoon likeness of you! As soon as I swipe this issue from one of the kids' therapists office, this baby's going on the fridge. New desktop backround? Yes, please!
11.2.07
Improv, Boys, Trust
Day 2 of my class with Rob Riggle finished a few hours ago. A complete 180 of yesterday's class. I just didn't trust myself, wasn't present, and pretty much sucked. These are the same issues I dealt with during 201, and I forgot how much I hated facing them. Riggle said many encouraging things after class to me, that really helped. I wish I WISH I could stay present in a scene; he said I have to stop self-writing so much. Don't Think, I know, I know! I'm still excited to start 301, but I'm so petrified. I can do this, right?
Riggle is performing at ASSSSCAT! tonight, and he said he'll be teaching some classes in April and during the marathon.
Moving right along, I picked up one of the kids from a playdate today, and I swooned. I haven't swooned is a long time. At the door, the playmate's older brother answered. Honestly, words didn't come out if my mouth, and I just stood there looking like an idiot. The more he smiled, the less functional I became. I didn't get his name, but he was SO handsome. Holy cow, he was delicious. This is not a typical reaction, mind you. And don't listen to my roommates is they say otherwise. If we all have a physical "type", he was mine. Nope, you're not getting any details - like all good crushes, I'm keeping this one to myself.
Riggle is performing at ASSSSCAT! tonight, and he said he'll be teaching some classes in April and during the marathon.
Moving right along, I picked up one of the kids from a playdate today, and I swooned. I haven't swooned is a long time. At the door, the playmate's older brother answered. Honestly, words didn't come out if my mouth, and I just stood there looking like an idiot. The more he smiled, the less functional I became. I didn't get his name, but he was SO handsome. Holy cow, he was delicious. This is not a typical reaction, mind you. And don't listen to my roommates is they say otherwise. If we all have a physical "type", he was mine. Nope, you're not getting any details - like all good crushes, I'm keeping this one to myself.
Jerry Seinfeld says hi! Finally!
Walking towards his apartment building, a Seinfeld sighting is one of the best sightings! He's incredibly thin, as was rocking the baseball cap and sunglasses combo. Were it not for the paparazzi milling around his building, I would've missed him completely. I don't too often get visibly "starstruck" - shocked, I'm sure you are - but I couldn't help standing there, mouth agape. Freaken Seinfeld! And to think, I almost took a job in this building.
10.2.07
Back in the saddle, again! Whee!
I just came from my first UCB class in 6 months. I can't believe I haven't performed in so long! This was just a workshop, and I took it to get a jumpstart on level 301 which begins in two weeks. It's no big surprise, I can be VERY self-concsious about myself, especially when I perform. Improv is so incredably different than musical theatre. When performing a song, I'm not shy or scared because I'm confidant in my abilities as a singer. I'm not entirely confidant in my abilites as an improviser, mostly because I went 12 years without it, and this new improv world differs so greatly than that of Reading, PA.
Rob Riggle is a tremendous teacher, who really gets "it." He's so reassuring, and gives amazing notes. I wish he taught classes on a more regular basis. Basically, this workshop teaches us to find the "game" as soon as possible. While I appreciate the some of the class wouldn't ask him about his tenure on SNL, or what Jon Stewart smells like (of course I'm curious, but I'm not paying money to learn about what a hardass Lorne is, I'll figure that on my own.) I understand why they do it. Most of the class has completed 401, and I belive I'm the only one who hasn't done 301. There were some Harold Team members there, and it's pretty sweet performing with them. A chick from Tantrum and I had a good scene. If anything, this class will teach me to become more confidant in my abilities. Because if I'm not, how the HELL will I EVER be able to find the game?
Riggle also said, the teachers nowadays are too easy. He said Besser used to make men cry. They really weeded the rifraff out. Can't wait for tomorrow. It's good to be back.
Because I went to work, then to class, and then back to work, I'm requesting no one tell me about any fun plans this weekend. I just can't do it, I'm way to exhausted.
Rob Riggle is a tremendous teacher, who really gets "it." He's so reassuring, and gives amazing notes. I wish he taught classes on a more regular basis. Basically, this workshop teaches us to find the "game" as soon as possible. While I appreciate the some of the class wouldn't ask him about his tenure on SNL, or what Jon Stewart smells like (of course I'm curious, but I'm not paying money to learn about what a hardass Lorne is, I'll figure that on my own.) I understand why they do it. Most of the class has completed 401, and I belive I'm the only one who hasn't done 301. There were some Harold Team members there, and it's pretty sweet performing with them. A chick from Tantrum and I had a good scene. If anything, this class will teach me to become more confidant in my abilities. Because if I'm not, how the HELL will I EVER be able to find the game?
Riggle also said, the teachers nowadays are too easy. He said Besser used to make men cry. They really weeded the rifraff out. Can't wait for tomorrow. It's good to be back.
Because I went to work, then to class, and then back to work, I'm requesting no one tell me about any fun plans this weekend. I just can't do it, I'm way to exhausted.
The cast of the show.
We all know my love of the show I work with. I don't need to say the name; you get it. I wouldn't be nearly as excited if I was working on Tarzan or Phantom (I've never seen Phantom, by the way, and I hope I never do!). One of the reasons the show is so fabulous, is the amazing, AMAZING cast. All younger then me, some are still in High School. These kids (wow, I'm old) are such professionals. And they're not that fazed with their sudden celebrity.
It's pretty cute to see them Myspacing each other, knowing whose dating whom, and who their favorite musicians are. If more of them were of the legal drinking age, I know we'd be hearing about them in Page Six. And I have it on good authority, some of the cast swings by UCB from time to time.
Here's a fun little interview with one of my favorite castmembers. He's such a smarmy little horn-ball in the show...and he's only 20! Pick up Time Out New York this week (yes, the Valentine's Day issue), for a fun little blurb about my pal and yours, Johnny Gallagher.
Don't forget, they're on Letterman on the 21st, and the View the following morning.
It's pretty cute to see them Myspacing each other, knowing whose dating whom, and who their favorite musicians are. If more of them were of the legal drinking age, I know we'd be hearing about them in Page Six. And I have it on good authority, some of the cast swings by UCB from time to time.
Here's a fun little interview with one of my favorite castmembers. He's such a smarmy little horn-ball in the show...and he's only 20! Pick up Time Out New York this week (yes, the Valentine's Day issue), for a fun little blurb about my pal and yours, Johnny Gallagher.
Don't forget, they're on Letterman on the 21st, and the View the following morning.
9.2.07
Why I'll miss my roommate.
+Drunks are funny!
+Her loud sex reminds me of what it's supposed to sound like, only sadder.
+Jews are funny!
+She's the only person in the apartment who dresses worse than me.
+I'm one notch higher on the Rape Scale.
+Drunk Jews are hilarious!
+No one else in the apartment truly hates me. Pure hatred doesn't come around that often.
+No more Hitler jokes. sideways frowny:(
+I'll forget what a person slowly killing themselves, looks like.
+The only two-faced person in my life will be the Two-Headed Monster on Sesame Street.
+Who will scream at me now? My boss doesn't count.
+I can't do an uncanny impersonation of my other roommates.
+"Yo", "Dude", "Son" and other cultured terms might leave my lexicon.
+"Drugs are Drugs"
+Being reminded of why I pretty much abandoned my religion is a much easier issue to deal with, then the other crap I have going on.
+She makes my life look like a freaken picnic.
+Who will tell me how "retarded" people who attempt suicide are? In fact where will I get cracker-jack advice about the Mental Health field, from someone who knows what she's talking about, now?
+Small trash can fires are exciting
+I do like Clinque face wash
+No one else will take photos of me and invite me out, then try and stab me. Verbally, of course.
+She makes nepotism SO glamourous!
+So THAT'S what a real family is! I never want to be independent, or be a grown up either! To much responsiblility is hard.
+Hearing an Aria from The Magic Flute at Warp 12 volume as a ringtone just won't be the same, if it doesn't ring at 4 in the morning.
+It might not be appropriate to use the "C" as an adjective quiet as often, anymore.
+Not have any work ethic is a nice reminder of being 13.
oh, there's so many more reasons as to why I'll miss you, you horrible little minx. As we get closer to a move out date, I'll be listing more.
+Her loud sex reminds me of what it's supposed to sound like, only sadder.
+Jews are funny!
+She's the only person in the apartment who dresses worse than me.
+I'm one notch higher on the Rape Scale.
+Drunk Jews are hilarious!
+No one else in the apartment truly hates me. Pure hatred doesn't come around that often.
+No more Hitler jokes. sideways frowny:(
+I'll forget what a person slowly killing themselves, looks like.
+The only two-faced person in my life will be the Two-Headed Monster on Sesame Street.
+Who will scream at me now? My boss doesn't count.
+I can't do an uncanny impersonation of my other roommates.
+"Yo", "Dude", "Son" and other cultured terms might leave my lexicon.
+"Drugs are Drugs"
+Being reminded of why I pretty much abandoned my religion is a much easier issue to deal with, then the other crap I have going on.
+She makes my life look like a freaken picnic.
+Who will tell me how "retarded" people who attempt suicide are? In fact where will I get cracker-jack advice about the Mental Health field, from someone who knows what she's talking about, now?
+Small trash can fires are exciting
+I do like Clinque face wash
+No one else will take photos of me and invite me out, then try and stab me. Verbally, of course.
+She makes nepotism SO glamourous!
+So THAT'S what a real family is! I never want to be independent, or be a grown up either! To much responsiblility is hard.
+Hearing an Aria from The Magic Flute at Warp 12 volume as a ringtone just won't be the same, if it doesn't ring at 4 in the morning.
+It might not be appropriate to use the "C" as an adjective quiet as often, anymore.
+Not have any work ethic is a nice reminder of being 13.
oh, there's so many more reasons as to why I'll miss you, you horrible little minx. As we get closer to a move out date, I'll be listing more.
What you've missed...
Being busy isn't funny. Nothing amusing comes from working all the time. There's so much I've overlooked in the past few days...
-on Super Bowl Sunday, my roommates got skunk-drunk and were "grabassing". Hey, Joe Francis, forget Cancun. I've got your Girls Gone Wild right here.
-A delightful interchange between two HUGE black men on the subway, went from possible violence, to a Jamba Juice exchange. Warm fuzzies all around.
-a roommate is moving out. Stability will commence. Sort of.
-She's a bitch.
-I'm going to my depressing home town in two weeks (for the first time in 12 years), and I'm scared to death.
-I've been drinking more, so technically I can no longer state that "I don't drink."
-When you apologize to someone, you might get some ass. This is not normal, and one shouldn't make a habit out of it.
-Pay attention to things people say, particularly things related to the opposite sex.
-When a person farts, and says "Safety" she deserves a good smack. Especially because she's a bitch.
-When a bitch yells that you're "insane, need meds, and is fucked up" demand a reason as to why. Especially, when you have a Ven diagram supporting your reasons as to why she's a crack-head.
-Roommates talk to Rabbits, when you're not around.
-Blogging while in the company of my roommates continues to inspire me
And the chesnut of the night, straight from the brains on the house;
"language is the essence of human life."
-on Super Bowl Sunday, my roommates got skunk-drunk and were "grabassing". Hey, Joe Francis, forget Cancun. I've got your Girls Gone Wild right here.
-A delightful interchange between two HUGE black men on the subway, went from possible violence, to a Jamba Juice exchange. Warm fuzzies all around.
-a roommate is moving out. Stability will commence. Sort of.
-She's a bitch.
-I'm going to my depressing home town in two weeks (for the first time in 12 years), and I'm scared to death.
-I've been drinking more, so technically I can no longer state that "I don't drink."
-When you apologize to someone, you might get some ass. This is not normal, and one shouldn't make a habit out of it.
-Pay attention to things people say, particularly things related to the opposite sex.
-When a person farts, and says "Safety" she deserves a good smack. Especially because she's a bitch.
-When a bitch yells that you're "insane, need meds, and is fucked up" demand a reason as to why. Especially, when you have a Ven diagram supporting your reasons as to why she's a crack-head.
-Roommates talk to Rabbits, when you're not around.
-Blogging while in the company of my roommates continues to inspire me
And the chesnut of the night, straight from the brains on the house;
"language is the essence of human life."
And if the day couldn't get any zanier...
Anna Nicole Smith is dead. Wow, didn't see that one coming. Should something be said, to make the passing any easier? Yeah, I can't think of anything either.
Shenanagans!
It took place, and I was involved. For a change. After work, myself, the roommate, and the old roommate went to see Factory Girl. Wait, hold the phone, Sisterfriend! Let's back up. I had wine before we went! And it was red! And I picked it out. On the Upper West Side, no less.
After our Chinese-Red Wine-Rocky Horror Chat session, we poured the remainder into a Vitamin Water bottle, and cabbed it to the Angelika. Factory Girl is an enjoyable movie, nothing to write home about. Sienna Miller is a decent Edie Sedgwyck, but I wouldv'e prefered a documentary about her. She seems like a fascinatingly, disturbed person. Stay for the end credits, as there's some interviews with people who knew her. And Guy Pearce as Warhol was a pretty cool deal. Very blase, and captured Warhola to a tee. To enjoy the film at it's highest level, bring red wine in a Vitamin Water bottle - and don't share with your friends.
I had an adorablly endearing wine mustache from drinking out of the bottle. Aww, shucks indeed!
Then we went to a NYU-approved bar, that smelled like Kerouac and douchebag. And I drank more. I was a fun person tonight. Are we really surprised? We knew the transformation was coming, right?
My roommate and I are home safe and sound. Goodnight, New York. You're not so bad after all - no matter what they say.
After our Chinese-Red Wine-Rocky Horror Chat session, we poured the remainder into a Vitamin Water bottle, and cabbed it to the Angelika. Factory Girl is an enjoyable movie, nothing to write home about. Sienna Miller is a decent Edie Sedgwyck, but I wouldv'e prefered a documentary about her. She seems like a fascinatingly, disturbed person. Stay for the end credits, as there's some interviews with people who knew her. And Guy Pearce as Warhol was a pretty cool deal. Very blase, and captured Warhola to a tee. To enjoy the film at it's highest level, bring red wine in a Vitamin Water bottle - and don't share with your friends.
I had an adorablly endearing wine mustache from drinking out of the bottle. Aww, shucks indeed!
Then we went to a NYU-approved bar, that smelled like Kerouac and douchebag. And I drank more. I was a fun person tonight. Are we really surprised? We knew the transformation was coming, right?
My roommate and I are home safe and sound. Goodnight, New York. You're not so bad after all - no matter what they say.
5.2.07
An open letter...to my Boss.
To one of the several that pays my bills;
I put up with A LOT of shit from people, particularly you. When you're having a bad day - which is practically every day - and you take it out on me, I willingly allow it. I keep telling myself, the more I can put up with, the bigger the prize in the end. But let me tell you, it might not be worth the trouble.
Let me also tell you, that if you EVER speak to me in the manner in which you chose today, again, I'll pop you in your God Damned mouth - verbally, of course. Sweat-shop workers get treated better, than your treatment of me. At least they get a lunch break.
You're a hideous tyrrant, who totally gets off on pushing me around, and seeing me take it. But, I'm about to stand my ground with you. I'm going to demand a raise, because I'm not performing just 1 job - I'm performing 3. And I'm going to insist on some time to myself. It's to freaking bad you HAD to be at the theatre tonight - I didn't realize we as a world, revolve around you.
In closing, be prepared for me to begin standing up for myself, and agaisnt the mistreatment you produce. Seriously, your mother F!@$ing mouth!
Much love,
TSV.
I put up with A LOT of shit from people, particularly you. When you're having a bad day - which is practically every day - and you take it out on me, I willingly allow it. I keep telling myself, the more I can put up with, the bigger the prize in the end. But let me tell you, it might not be worth the trouble.
Let me also tell you, that if you EVER speak to me in the manner in which you chose today, again, I'll pop you in your God Damned mouth - verbally, of course. Sweat-shop workers get treated better, than your treatment of me. At least they get a lunch break.
You're a hideous tyrrant, who totally gets off on pushing me around, and seeing me take it. But, I'm about to stand my ground with you. I'm going to demand a raise, because I'm not performing just 1 job - I'm performing 3. And I'm going to insist on some time to myself. It's to freaking bad you HAD to be at the theatre tonight - I didn't realize we as a world, revolve around you.
In closing, be prepared for me to begin standing up for myself, and agaisnt the mistreatment you produce. Seriously, your mother F!@$ing mouth!
Much love,
TSV.
4.2.07
Happy Fracken Super Bowl, Sportsfans.
Yay to whichever team won. I was confined to a mamouth house in Short Hills, awaiting a Super Bowl party that never happened. I and the teenager watched Tommy, ordered Italian food - which the giant dog proceeded to eat, when I went into the kitchen - and danced to Cab Calloway. A decent Super Bowl evening.
If I wasn't so tired, I'd elaborate on his 15yr old brother's crush on me, the mother's crazy sunglasses collection, and the super-fun mini-ballroom in which I practiced my tap dancing in. There's always next time.
In super fabulous show-related news, I had to work late last evening because someone working VERY closly with the Today show came to visit our show. She liked it a lot, and hopefully the cast we'll be on it mid-month! Don't forget, they'll be performing on Letterman towards the end of the month. Personally, I'm pulling for Conan. The boys are also walking in Jill Stuart's fashion show this week, and they're in Teen Vogue this month. You never saw Patti LuPone in Teen Vogue!
Now, I'm going to shower the train off of me, and go to sleep. I have many dreams to catch up on.
If I wasn't so tired, I'd elaborate on his 15yr old brother's crush on me, the mother's crazy sunglasses collection, and the super-fun mini-ballroom in which I practiced my tap dancing in. There's always next time.
In super fabulous show-related news, I had to work late last evening because someone working VERY closly with the Today show came to visit our show. She liked it a lot, and hopefully the cast we'll be on it mid-month! Don't forget, they'll be performing on Letterman towards the end of the month. Personally, I'm pulling for Conan. The boys are also walking in Jill Stuart's fashion show this week, and they're in Teen Vogue this month. You never saw Patti LuPone in Teen Vogue!
Now, I'm going to shower the train off of me, and go to sleep. I have many dreams to catch up on.
3.2.07
Pledges and codes, be damned.
Who did I work for today? Why, I'm still at work. First, the teenager and I went to the New York Transit museum. What a fun place! You can sit in the old subway cars! Wow! Did you know, the subway cars back in the day had cushioned seats? And little fans! And were painted mint green, or bright red and purple! Wow, right? Because I'm slightly lame, I think this would be a fun place to take a date.
Now, I'm working for the ticket lady, and was given 3 suprises upon entering the house. The first one was an invite to something I've always dreamed of attending. And that's all I'm saying about that right now. The second was in the form of two additional little girls. It's a slumber party. I deal w/ multiples very well, and nothing's better than a bunch of girls. But one of thse kids is such a spoiled, rude little pain. I feel bad scolding a child who's not really in my care, but this kid needed it. The other little girl is a delight, so smart and polite.
They're currently watching this horrible kid's show with an equally horrible name, "The Naked Brother's Band." One day I'll make an entire post about this horrible program. It's that bad.
All of this, and I was able to cram a friend's performance at UCB inbetween. In a bit, it's time to start stuffing envelopes. My roomate's are right - I am "Day to Night Barbie!"
Now, I'm working for the ticket lady, and was given 3 suprises upon entering the house. The first one was an invite to something I've always dreamed of attending. And that's all I'm saying about that right now. The second was in the form of two additional little girls. It's a slumber party. I deal w/ multiples very well, and nothing's better than a bunch of girls. But one of thse kids is such a spoiled, rude little pain. I feel bad scolding a child who's not really in my care, but this kid needed it. The other little girl is a delight, so smart and polite.
They're currently watching this horrible kid's show with an equally horrible name, "The Naked Brother's Band." One day I'll make an entire post about this horrible program. It's that bad.
All of this, and I was able to cram a friend's performance at UCB inbetween. In a bit, it's time to start stuffing envelopes. My roomate's are right - I am "Day to Night Barbie!"
Remarks, reminders, remainders of the day.
Well, I'm pratically done handwritting 250 address labels. No karioke for me, Sirs and Madames - it's all about the big prize at the end of the day. I worked two families today. The crazy Nudist had me organize her insane collection of CD's today. Have you ever known an obese 50-something Jewish women, who LOVES Jamiroqui, Rick Astley, and The Chemical Brothers? I do. I made a joke to her that she must be the only person who actually bought the soundtrack to "Wild Things." She said, "Oh, it's so sexy. Let me show you." No thanks. Ugh, if she asks me to install a pole in her room, I might die.
She also requested I stay later on Thursdays to help the 7yr old with homework. She says I'm quite the tutor. I'm not really, I just don't allow distractions, and continually give positve reenforment. That's what the kid needs. The mothers I work work bribe the kids into doing their assignments. One might as well throw everything fun about learning, out the window. If learning is made out to be a chore, of course the kid won't want to do it. To quote this particular 7yr old, I'm so good because I'm the "Rock and Roll Nanny." And to her little friends, I'm the "comedianne." God, I love this kid.
After all this, I headed to Penn Station (still no wallet) to take a train to Short Hills to pick up the Autistic teenager. Navigating the Gladstone train line is quiet a feat, and I ended up somewhere in Newark. After finally arriving in Short Hills, I picked up the boy (he's 18, he's not really a boy) and planned on bringing him back to New York. It's tough when we're in a large crowd, because he speaks so loudly and so repeativitly, and he's become so physical with me. He respects me in a way he never did with his other caregivers. He told me they tried to hire a new girl during the week, and she quit because he "peeked" at her while she was using the toilet. He's never invaded my personal space like that, but when he hugs me, he tries to put his head on my breasts, and he often has his arm around my shoulder. I explain "friends don't act that way," but it's a very hard concept to grasp for him. I watched him on the train tonight, looking out the window, trying to imagine what he was thinking, and feeling. All the while, he kept a smile on his face, and I became sad. This happens often to me, working with Autistic children. When I used to work with the 4yr old, I'd cry for a long while after one of our sessions. I can't really explain the feeling I get working with these kids. Out of all of the disorders, ailments, and diseases a human can be afflicted with Autism might be the most peaceful, beautiful affliction of any.
She also requested I stay later on Thursdays to help the 7yr old with homework. She says I'm quite the tutor. I'm not really, I just don't allow distractions, and continually give positve reenforment. That's what the kid needs. The mothers I work work bribe the kids into doing their assignments. One might as well throw everything fun about learning, out the window. If learning is made out to be a chore, of course the kid won't want to do it. To quote this particular 7yr old, I'm so good because I'm the "Rock and Roll Nanny." And to her little friends, I'm the "comedianne." God, I love this kid.
After all this, I headed to Penn Station (still no wallet) to take a train to Short Hills to pick up the Autistic teenager. Navigating the Gladstone train line is quiet a feat, and I ended up somewhere in Newark. After finally arriving in Short Hills, I picked up the boy (he's 18, he's not really a boy) and planned on bringing him back to New York. It's tough when we're in a large crowd, because he speaks so loudly and so repeativitly, and he's become so physical with me. He respects me in a way he never did with his other caregivers. He told me they tried to hire a new girl during the week, and she quit because he "peeked" at her while she was using the toilet. He's never invaded my personal space like that, but when he hugs me, he tries to put his head on my breasts, and he often has his arm around my shoulder. I explain "friends don't act that way," but it's a very hard concept to grasp for him. I watched him on the train tonight, looking out the window, trying to imagine what he was thinking, and feeling. All the while, he kept a smile on his face, and I became sad. This happens often to me, working with Autistic children. When I used to work with the 4yr old, I'd cry for a long while after one of our sessions. I can't really explain the feeling I get working with these kids. Out of all of the disorders, ailments, and diseases a human can be afflicted with Autism might be the most peaceful, beautiful affliction of any.
2.2.07
12 days a week.
It feels like I never get a break. I'm working all weekend, all of next week, and all of next weekend. This show isn't going to promote itself, I suppose. If I can bank enough by April, I'm going to England for two weeks, in the summer. I haven't been on vacation since I was 21, and it was to England. One could say I'm a workaholic. Luckly, I do enjoy what I do, to an extent. How many people can say that?
WALLET UPDATE - Penn Station think's they may have it. Keep your toes crossed. Feb's rent was in there, as well as my SS card, my first driver's license from my "fatty fatty 2x4" days, and of course my credit cards, and some cash. Thankfully, my roommates loaned me some cash, and a Metrocard.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again; It's really tough being me.
WALLET UPDATE, part 2 - Penn Station is full of Ass Holes. They said nothing usually turns up for at least a week.
WALLET UPDATE - Penn Station think's they may have it. Keep your toes crossed. Feb's rent was in there, as well as my SS card, my first driver's license from my "fatty fatty 2x4" days, and of course my credit cards, and some cash. Thankfully, my roommates loaned me some cash, and a Metrocard.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again; It's really tough being me.
WALLET UPDATE, part 2 - Penn Station is full of Ass Holes. They said nothing usually turns up for at least a week.
1.2.07
Ugghhh!I
I lost wallet on the train tonight. I never lost anything like this before. Hopefully it will be returned. Hot damn, I'm so stressed right now.
I dreamed a dream.
I had the most bizarre, realistic dream this morning. I don't often dream about anyone specific, and I'm not one to dream about people in my life. But today I did. It involved a celebrity, which I refuse to reaveal, because it's a tad embarrassing.
I dreamnt I drove to my ex-boyfriend's house. walked inside, and this particular famous person was in his bed. He tried kissing me, but was awful at it. He told me he was cold, so I tried to go down on him. He pulled away. Suddenly, I hear my father's voice. And I'm in my pajamas. He tells me to go with him, to leave here imediatly. I then, wake up, and my father is telling me to get up, so I can drive him to work.
One would think, the dream wouldv'e ended slightly differently. There's always tonight!
I dreamnt I drove to my ex-boyfriend's house. walked inside, and this particular famous person was in his bed. He tried kissing me, but was awful at it. He told me he was cold, so I tried to go down on him. He pulled away. Suddenly, I hear my father's voice. And I'm in my pajamas. He tells me to go with him, to leave here imediatly. I then, wake up, and my father is telling me to get up, so I can drive him to work.
One would think, the dream wouldv'e ended slightly differently. There's always tonight!
30.1.07
Sign me up!
If this is what Alan Strang had ACTUALLY looked like in the film, I probably wouldn't have gone into convulsions afterward. Damn, Equus! Dayam, Harry Potter!! Excuse me, I need a moment...
EDIT - And then, there's this. What is the age of consent in England, by the way?
29.1.07
Out of curiosity...
My Ipod just stopped working today. Whenever I power it on, nothing happens. It's at full charge, as well. I've done the troubleshooting goodness, but to no avail. Help me out, if you can!
EDIT - I figured it out. Thanks for the support.
EDIT - I figured it out. Thanks for the support.
It was much pleasanter at home, when one wasn't always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about by mice and rabbits.
A sabactical of sorts, is about to commence. I've overworked, underwhelmed, and in desparate need of Target. I'm going home for a few days, just to...go home. Time to get out of this crazy crazy world in which I live, and go home to another craziness - my parents. Just long enough that I'll miss you, you'll miss me, and we all be the better for it when I return. Now, let's buck up! You will not continue reading this, if I continue to be mopulant. It's almost Tuesday - fun things happen on Tuesday! Take those meds, get a good night's sleep, and come see me in the a.m.
Here are some fun things that happened to me, today!
-I had a nice bowl of soup
-Pipa Ripa and hubby picked up their kids at school, and she was wearing jeans made for a 14yr old.
-I played the 7yr old's Nintendo DS for a good chunk of time, and beat the crap out of Mario.
-my boss is getting even more pleased with the work I'm doing for the show
Here are some fun things that happened to me, today!
-I had a nice bowl of soup
-Pipa Ripa and hubby picked up their kids at school, and she was wearing jeans made for a 14yr old.
-I played the 7yr old's Nintendo DS for a good chunk of time, and beat the crap out of Mario.
-my boss is getting even more pleased with the work I'm doing for the show
28.1.07
No good has ever come from leaving Manhattan.
Since moving to New York, my blog has been read by mostly everyone I know. I happily tell people about it, knowing they'll find enjoyment in my anecdotes, and what nots. I didn't count on becoming such great friends with certain readers of my blog, which makes things somewhat difficult. I'm a very open person, in general, and when I'm hurt or upset I talk about it. But when I'm hurt by someone I care very much for, who reads this on a daily basis, what can I do? I certainly can't blog about it. I wouldn't dream of inflicting pain or sadness on someone I care so much about. But I must, because I'm tired. And frustrated. So, let's suspend reality for just a moment. Imagine I never met you, in fact pretend this isn't even directed towards you. Just take it for what it's worth.
I am your friend. You are mine. You also might be one of my favorite people in all of New York. Which is probably why I'm able to accept your quirks, mannerisms, and on occasion, offensive behavior. I know that without everything you "come with", you'd just be another pretentious, boring asshole of a Hipster. But you're not. And that's what makes this so incredably difficult.
I completely understand your wanting to be with your friends, your "events", your dropping out of sight for several days to decompress. I get it, I really do. That's you. And while I truly appreciate your friendly extension of kindness, every now and again, it's terribly frustrating when it's over. Because I know I have to wait another month before spending a few moments with you, when you get an opening in your schedule. Although I work ridiculously long hours, I make time for my friends, because I look forward to their company. Just like I did last evening.
The things I went through to get to you last evening, aren't really important. Coming from the Upper West Side after a 12 hour work day might have some meaning to you, but the point is I was coming. I suppose I buy the reason as to why you didn't alert me to the venue change. Friends forgive stuff like that. What I don't accept is what transpired once I arrived.
Do you remember what you promised me? You promised me this night would be different from previous ones I've experienced. You promised me people would behave differently, that I and my guest would feel welcome. We weren't. I'm not entirely sure you noticed my absence, so soon after arriving. My guest and I decided there really was no reason to stay, since no extension was made on anyone's part to make us feel welcome.
I thought, perhaps, I'd make up this elaborate story about the exciting places we went to, once leaving your venue. But I'm to hurt to go to all of that trouble. In reality, we walked to a crappy diner under the 7 train, had shitty food, and went home.
I didn't think I'd be this upset. This sort of things happen, right? But, because you are who you are to me, it burns more than I couldv'e imagined. I promised myself I wouldn't allow things like this to upset me. But, I seriously cannot continue going out with people, with the promise of fun and fancy, when the end result is tears and anger.
I wish it wasn't so frustrating being your friend. If you were someone else, this would be so much easier. But you're not, you're you. And that's why it hurts so much. I wish I could actually speak to you, and tell this to your face. They're are many things I could say.
I am your friend. You are mine. You also might be one of my favorite people in all of New York. Which is probably why I'm able to accept your quirks, mannerisms, and on occasion, offensive behavior. I know that without everything you "come with", you'd just be another pretentious, boring asshole of a Hipster. But you're not. And that's what makes this so incredably difficult.
I completely understand your wanting to be with your friends, your "events", your dropping out of sight for several days to decompress. I get it, I really do. That's you. And while I truly appreciate your friendly extension of kindness, every now and again, it's terribly frustrating when it's over. Because I know I have to wait another month before spending a few moments with you, when you get an opening in your schedule. Although I work ridiculously long hours, I make time for my friends, because I look forward to their company. Just like I did last evening.
The things I went through to get to you last evening, aren't really important. Coming from the Upper West Side after a 12 hour work day might have some meaning to you, but the point is I was coming. I suppose I buy the reason as to why you didn't alert me to the venue change. Friends forgive stuff like that. What I don't accept is what transpired once I arrived.
Do you remember what you promised me? You promised me this night would be different from previous ones I've experienced. You promised me people would behave differently, that I and my guest would feel welcome. We weren't. I'm not entirely sure you noticed my absence, so soon after arriving. My guest and I decided there really was no reason to stay, since no extension was made on anyone's part to make us feel welcome.
I thought, perhaps, I'd make up this elaborate story about the exciting places we went to, once leaving your venue. But I'm to hurt to go to all of that trouble. In reality, we walked to a crappy diner under the 7 train, had shitty food, and went home.
I didn't think I'd be this upset. This sort of things happen, right? But, because you are who you are to me, it burns more than I couldv'e imagined. I promised myself I wouldn't allow things like this to upset me. But, I seriously cannot continue going out with people, with the promise of fun and fancy, when the end result is tears and anger.
I wish it wasn't so frustrating being your friend. If you were someone else, this would be so much easier. But you're not, you're you. And that's why it hurts so much. I wish I could actually speak to you, and tell this to your face. They're are many things I could say.
27.1.07
Curtains, drapes, and other housewares
I've always had hair "issues", which I attribute to my early dying foray at age 11. I was the first one in school to dye my hair. A trendsetter, oh yes. I was red hot Ginger, until 20. Here is a timeline of my hair accomplishments/defeats.
age 11 - picked up a box of Clairol Glints semi-perminant hair color at Fay's Drugs in Sinking Spring, PA after band practice, continue coloring every 8 weeks
age 12 - come to the decision that a Perm is a good idea. 3 weeks later, I brush it out. Have an afro for the rest of my 7th grade experience, resulting in a crystal clear understanding of "they're not laughing WITH YOU, they're laughing AT YOU." Trying to tweeze my eyebrows, I become frustrated, take my Flicker razor and shave them off.
age 13 - 15 - find a lovely shade of red, that glows bright purple under cafeteria lights. Therapy is up to twice a week. Attempt a fun shade of neon green for Halloween, that permiates my scalp. Go to school looking like She-Hulk for two weeks.
age 16-18 - back to my normal dark brown shade. Hair coloring, as well as kissing, hand holding, and hand jobs on Parents Day are against the rules at my boarding school.
age 19 - try going Blonde. Due to the red & orange deposits in my hair, I end up looking like Ronald McDonald's busty sister. Win the part of Nurse Rached in my college's production of "Cuckoo's Nest". Have an incredably depressing time at an after-show party, involving a hydrosepholic cat. Shave my eyebrows off. Again.
age 20-22 red, red, red. While living with my boyfriend at the time, I put my hair in a ponytail, and asked him to cut it off. That God Hair Cuttery was open late. Hair above my ears. He convinces me to try Nair for the first time. Down there. After several panic attacks and hosiptalizations, we break up.
22-24 bored with life, I let my hair grow below my shoulders
25 - that summer I go black, and enjoy being better than you. Fall, I go back to a warm brown shade. Winter, recieve a job I feel quite proud of, and get a smart "do" to go with it. We know what happened to that. Hair still looks great, though!
I bring all this up, because I found this - any takers? I didn't know they're called "Bettys."
age 11 - picked up a box of Clairol Glints semi-perminant hair color at Fay's Drugs in Sinking Spring, PA after band practice, continue coloring every 8 weeks
age 12 - come to the decision that a Perm is a good idea. 3 weeks later, I brush it out. Have an afro for the rest of my 7th grade experience, resulting in a crystal clear understanding of "they're not laughing WITH YOU, they're laughing AT YOU." Trying to tweeze my eyebrows, I become frustrated, take my Flicker razor and shave them off.
age 13 - 15 - find a lovely shade of red, that glows bright purple under cafeteria lights. Therapy is up to twice a week. Attempt a fun shade of neon green for Halloween, that permiates my scalp. Go to school looking like She-Hulk for two weeks.
age 16-18 - back to my normal dark brown shade. Hair coloring, as well as kissing, hand holding, and hand jobs on Parents Day are against the rules at my boarding school.
age 19 - try going Blonde. Due to the red & orange deposits in my hair, I end up looking like Ronald McDonald's busty sister. Win the part of Nurse Rached in my college's production of "Cuckoo's Nest". Have an incredably depressing time at an after-show party, involving a hydrosepholic cat. Shave my eyebrows off. Again.
age 20-22 red, red, red. While living with my boyfriend at the time, I put my hair in a ponytail, and asked him to cut it off. That God Hair Cuttery was open late. Hair above my ears. He convinces me to try Nair for the first time. Down there. After several panic attacks and hosiptalizations, we break up.
22-24 bored with life, I let my hair grow below my shoulders
25 - that summer I go black, and enjoy being better than you. Fall, I go back to a warm brown shade. Winter, recieve a job I feel quite proud of, and get a smart "do" to go with it. We know what happened to that. Hair still looks great, though!
I bring all this up, because I found this - any takers? I didn't know they're called "Bettys."
26.1.07
Matt Dillion says hi! Again.
Waiting in the lobby of the apartment building for a child to get off the bus, Mr. Dallas Winston himself comes running across 81st St and into my heart. Seems to have just gone to the deli down the street, had a Post & a Times under his arm. He appeared to be wearing Blu Blocker sunglasses, and an awful neon orange parka. His unappealing ensemble matched his demeanor. For once, I'm taking Cameron Diaz's side on something - she was right about you!
Stroke of genius! Get it??
How often has this happen to you? You're tugging your partner's nuts impatiently, while they're putting the condom on, and you think "Golly, I wonder where I can pick up the "Q" around here" or "I don't have much confidence in the Coca-Cola corporation. I need some convincing!"
Really, I'm all for this plan. Safe sex rocks! Ever since Equus (damn Equus!) and possibly Brooklyn, I'm quite fearful of riding bareback.
I have a rule with the condoms I distribute. Yes, I'm the one for the job. If I give you one, and it's used in another state, you must mail the wrapper back to me. Bonus points if used overseas.
Wrap it up, Boys - it's cold out there!
Really, I'm all for this plan. Safe sex rocks! Ever since Equus (damn Equus!) and possibly Brooklyn, I'm quite fearful of riding bareback.
I have a rule with the condoms I distribute. Yes, I'm the one for the job. If I give you one, and it's used in another state, you must mail the wrapper back to me. Bonus points if used overseas.
Wrap it up, Boys - it's cold out there!
25.1.07
Do your own damn photocopying!
It's tough being somebody's bitch. I arrived at work, to perform my typical tasks of bitchery. I was given a monumental one today. One of my employers is dealing with some legal crapp, and she's dragging me into it. Yes, yes familiar territory, I'm well aware. She's involved me in the past with this issue, and I've dutifully complied. Today, I was to photocopy "legal documents", blah blah blah. After becoming best mates with the Zerox guy at Staples - I'd been there 3 times in the course of an hour - I finally had enough. Luckly, my boss was content with the final copies I produced. I really don't enjoy doing this sort of work for her. This is right up there with giving her a massage and buying her Tampons.
Switching gears, I finally got my Rabbit in to see the Vet yesterday. No Vet in Philly was ever this precise and helpful. Did you know, Rabbits are the only animal that enjoys eating their own ear wax? Wow, right! The doctor was cleaning them, then giving the cotton swab to Jemima to munch on. Yum!
Switching gears, I finally got my Rabbit in to see the Vet yesterday. No Vet in Philly was ever this precise and helpful. Did you know, Rabbits are the only animal that enjoys eating their own ear wax? Wow, right! The doctor was cleaning them, then giving the cotton swab to Jemima to munch on. Yum!
24.1.07
Puttin' on the Ritz!
Ha-cha-cha! I'm a HUGE Mel Brooks fan, and this warms my proverbial heart! If I was in Equity, I'd SO be there. I was thisclose to attending a non-Equity audition of Hairspray several years back, but I just couldn't get to New York.
FOR SALE - ONE USED COPY OF EQUUS ON DVD
Purchased with the understanding of providing enjoyment, entertainment, and the slightest bit of erotica, this copy is defective. It provided nightmares, evocation of God many times over, and a whole lot of uncircumcision. Take this copy of the award-winning film off my hands. Normally, $15 I will give it to you in exchange for a free therapy session, some fetal position rocking, and a big hug.
22.1.07
A paradigm shift.
The interview of which I spoke, several days back just didn't work. Not nearly enough bread, and the agency insisted I tell the family I attend church every Sunday. I haven't even seen Passion of the Christ. Whilst shopping last evening, I recieved another agency call. "Drop what you're doing, and head to Park Ave. This single mother is DYING to meet you!." In the middle of Sephora, amongst the prestige cosmetics, I realized I too, had become something to be bought. Although I have a price, I'm tired of using it. In that moment, I decided to quit the interview process, and work my 6-day plan. In plain English - I'm no longer looking for work. I have three perfectly adequet families. Although they don't summer in the South of France, prefer flying commercially, and don't keep their fridge stocked with Pelligrino (sob!), neither do I. I didn't attend a "nanny training school". Yes, they do exist. I'm not polished, meek, or dowdy, and while I am well-mannered (to a point) and cultured (to a point), I'm real. And if you don't like, suck it. Hard. Have you ever really heard me complain about the children? With 2 or 3 exceptions, I love my time with them. Because in the cold, drab reality of Manhattan private schools, neglectful parents, and semi-pro tennis lessons, I am the silver lining in their lives. I am content, I suppose.
I sure would like some Pelligrino...
Today was the first day of a new endeavor. I may have hinted at this last week. I'm now assisting in marketing and P.R. for a show. A Broadway show. Ok, fine - it's bloody Spring Awakening!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been told this could open up new doors for me. An exciting prospect indeed! Today, my task was to call every college and university in Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania and convince them to hang posters and flyers around their campus, and in their English and Drama departments. I only got as far as all of Connecticut, and the "T"s in New York. But, I got Yale!!!! I spoke to the head of the Yale's drama department! That's right Jodie Foster! Me! In fact, I "got" every college I spoke with. I called Qunnipiac, and spoke to some curmudgeonly English professor. "Speak clearly." "Use proper English." "Give me some tickets first!" If I had had him for English, I probably would have cried. My boss told me to fuck him, so I did. Metoporically, of course. I respect anybody that tells me I "give good phone."
I sure give good phone.
I sure would like some Pelligrino...
Today was the first day of a new endeavor. I may have hinted at this last week. I'm now assisting in marketing and P.R. for a show. A Broadway show. Ok, fine - it's bloody Spring Awakening!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been told this could open up new doors for me. An exciting prospect indeed! Today, my task was to call every college and university in Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania and convince them to hang posters and flyers around their campus, and in their English and Drama departments. I only got as far as all of Connecticut, and the "T"s in New York. But, I got Yale!!!! I spoke to the head of the Yale's drama department! That's right Jodie Foster! Me! In fact, I "got" every college I spoke with. I called Qunnipiac, and spoke to some curmudgeonly English professor. "Speak clearly." "Use proper English." "Give me some tickets first!" If I had had him for English, I probably would have cried. My boss told me to fuck him, so I did. Metoporically, of course. I respect anybody that tells me I "give good phone."
I sure give good phone.
21.1.07
Day off! Fake cheese! Tortilla Chip intrigue!
Just once I'd like to be able to sleep in on a day off, and not be disturbed. Several weeks ago, one of the crazy roommates barged in on me at 3am, because she wanted to return my earrings. Thanks. Last week, another crazy opened my door while I was sleeping, wanting to borrow my laptop. No you may not; when you act like a child, you get punished like one. This morning one of my bosses called me at 8 in the morning, just confirming I'll be there tomorrow. Could it keep, absouletly.
Had a delightful lunch with another roommate (no Mimosa's today, sorry.) Shopped our ways up 5th Ave, and did quite well. I was in desparate need of more professional looking clothes. Bought a new game of Monopoly - who doesn't not love the Monopoly?, some DVD's, and went to the market to buy ingrediants to make som crazy cheese dip my roomate invented. It was quiet good.
Now we're eating the crazy yummy cheese dip, and watching Teen Witch. Crazy Teen Witch with crazy Caryn Kaye from my favorite and yours...My Tutor. My Tutor is almost as good as Private Lessons with Sylvia Krystel, but not as good as Scorned with Shannon Tweed. Now you know; I have a mild facination with cheesy skin flicks.
Had a delightful lunch with another roommate (no Mimosa's today, sorry.) Shopped our ways up 5th Ave, and did quite well. I was in desparate need of more professional looking clothes. Bought a new game of Monopoly - who doesn't not love the Monopoly?, some DVD's, and went to the market to buy ingrediants to make som crazy cheese dip my roomate invented. It was quiet good.
Now we're eating the crazy yummy cheese dip, and watching Teen Witch. Crazy Teen Witch with crazy Caryn Kaye from my favorite and yours...My Tutor. My Tutor is almost as good as Private Lessons with Sylvia Krystel, but not as good as Scorned with Shannon Tweed. Now you know; I have a mild facination with cheesy skin flicks.
20.1.07
Try as I may...
I can't get excited about going out tonight. It's Saturday. Woo woo. I'm tired, frustrated with work, and bloody cold. Karioke with the roommates was a possibility, but not even the prospect of singing for Mike Myers is enough to get me out. I ordered some take out, watched my roommate bake, tried curling her hair, and we watched Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Who doesn't not love that movie? That's easily one of my top 10.
I saw Night at the Museum, AGAIN. I doen't really get better the second time around. I have the desire to expand my DVD collection this week. I almost bought Mommie Dearest for $10 bucks at Virgin, the other day.
Amazingly, I have off tomorrow. That never happens. Hopefully, I'll get brunch and do some shopping. I deserve to be shallow every now and again.
My roommate just declared, "My brain is so pretty. I should write a poem about it." You wished you lived here, come on.
I saw Night at the Museum, AGAIN. I doen't really get better the second time around. I have the desire to expand my DVD collection this week. I almost bought Mommie Dearest for $10 bucks at Virgin, the other day.
Amazingly, I have off tomorrow. That never happens. Hopefully, I'll get brunch and do some shopping. I deserve to be shallow every now and again.
My roommate just declared, "My brain is so pretty. I should write a poem about it." You wished you lived here, come on.
18.1.07
You might be number 7 on my Myspace, but you're number 3 in my heart.
Because of my incredible tenacity and work ethic, sometimes, but not to often am I rewarded. Out of all the families I work with, I only recieved a gift from one of them at Christmas. But last evening, one of my employers gave me more tickets to Spring Awakening. Squee.
I took my roommate this time; she'd never been to a Broadway show before. I enjoy bringing people to musicals, that wouldn't normally care to experience it. Our seats were much better this time - sorry, my tall friend - and I realized you get to see some breast. Twice! Stage breast is one of the best kind. I couldn't imagine doing an onstage sex scene 8 times a week. Well, maybe I could. What a fabulous, fabulous show!!!!! And Duncan Sheik was there too.
Afterwards, we went to a Brazillian restaurant. As we might know, I'm not the most adventurous eater. But, my roommate's so damn persuasive. She ordered me a Caipriani, or something simiar. Full of rum, I was feeling it. But not so much, I couldn't remember my address. Even stranger, my roommate had no alcohol. It's like Freaky Friday over here! We also had some yummy rice and beans, and fried Yuca. Poor Yuca. Even the name sounds depressing. It's an aquired taste, most definatly.
My wonderful new schedule, which I waxed so poeticly about yesterday, might be thrown out the window. An agency contacted me today, and I have an interview with a familiy tomorrow. Damn, it sucks being in demand.
GO SEE SPRING AWAKENING!!!!!!!!!!!
I took my roommate this time; she'd never been to a Broadway show before. I enjoy bringing people to musicals, that wouldn't normally care to experience it. Our seats were much better this time - sorry, my tall friend - and I realized you get to see some breast. Twice! Stage breast is one of the best kind. I couldn't imagine doing an onstage sex scene 8 times a week. Well, maybe I could. What a fabulous, fabulous show!!!!! And Duncan Sheik was there too.
Afterwards, we went to a Brazillian restaurant. As we might know, I'm not the most adventurous eater. But, my roommate's so damn persuasive. She ordered me a Caipriani, or something simiar. Full of rum, I was feeling it. But not so much, I couldn't remember my address. Even stranger, my roommate had no alcohol. It's like Freaky Friday over here! We also had some yummy rice and beans, and fried Yuca. Poor Yuca. Even the name sounds depressing. It's an aquired taste, most definatly.
My wonderful new schedule, which I waxed so poeticly about yesterday, might be thrown out the window. An agency contacted me today, and I have an interview with a familiy tomorrow. Damn, it sucks being in demand.
GO SEE SPRING AWAKENING!!!!!!!!!!!
16.1.07
My pulse and hopes are rising, so let's keep improvising.
Things are better today. And why shouldn't they be? I've worked 47 hours in the course of 4 days, slept a total of 7 hours in that time period, all the while making rent. That's what it comes down to, people. At least that's what I'm telling myself.
But, I think I've discovered a wonderful insanity eraser. I need a schedule; I can't work random hours for these families, working a bit here, a bit there. I need to limit myself, and must discontinue my overextension. So, I'm come up with a detailed schedule, that'll in the end, have me bringing home quiet a bit more, then my previous positions. Consequently, I'll be working 6 days a week, but after surving this weekend, it's apparent I have the stamina to carry on. And sadly, it'll impact Harold Nite, at least the first part. I wont be able to go home for the next two months, due to class being on a Wed. I will bring it to the families attention this week, and sanity will ensue.
But, I think I've discovered a wonderful insanity eraser. I need a schedule; I can't work random hours for these families, working a bit here, a bit there. I need to limit myself, and must discontinue my overextension. So, I'm come up with a detailed schedule, that'll in the end, have me bringing home quiet a bit more, then my previous positions. Consequently, I'll be working 6 days a week, but after surving this weekend, it's apparent I have the stamina to carry on. And sadly, it'll impact Harold Nite, at least the first part. I wont be able to go home for the next two months, due to class being on a Wed. I will bring it to the families attention this week, and sanity will ensue.
Tomorrow is my first day off in a long while. I've been so neglectful of my Rabbit, I'm taking her to the Vet tomorrow, for a clip and check-up. She's healthy, but every 6 months...whether you need it or not. I don't to often discuss her, but she's the best thing in the world. She's a sophisticated creature of the evening, much like myself. I dropped at home, at 9.30, and spent the evening with one of my roommates, munching on Atomic Wings, watching the Golden Globes on Tivo, and dancing to Frank Sinatra. All in all, a lovely closing to an incredibly uneccessary, sleep-depirved weekend.
15.1.07
It's Murder on the Dancefloor
It's tough performing eight shows a week, two matinees. For me, it's part of my daily existance. Alltering myself to fit someone else's needs, must make one feel quite good.
One of my roommates is such fun, a real treat to be around. I look forward to coming home, and chatting all evening with her. I haven't had a friend like her in I don't know how long. We share some common interests, enjoy each other's company, and continualy make one another laugh, but we are fairly different.
She invites me to hang out with her friends, friends she's had for years. Right away, there's a bit of resentment and contsternation towards me, but that's understood when someone new invades the sacred sanitarium of friendship. These girls are very cool. They treat me well, and I feel they've accepted me, to a point. I think they feel I'm not a threat towards them. I'm safe. Reliable. Square. And to a point, that's true. But it's tiresome trying to prove to someone who's not of the same fiber, that a Square can coexist with a Hipster.
My roommate invites me to places, I wouldn't typically be clamoring to go to. But, I moved to the City, wanting to expand my horizons, experience new things. I come with her, simply because I like her company, and I'd love to get to know her group a little better.
This evening, we went to a dance club in Williamsburg or Greenpoint. It's all the same to me. The music was so loud, the lights were so bright, the people were so hip, I quickly lost my ability to keep up this charade. I desperatly wanted to leave, but I hung in there, for the sake of my dignity, and my social life. I followed my roommate, like a scared child lost in the mall, but she was all right with it. She made sure I didn't become lost, which I appreciate. Unfortunatly, she didn't realize I was lost the moment they stamped my hand at the door.
I left, and her friends seemed to support this decision. "Here's an easy way to the subway." Although my roommate was concerned, I didn't want my departure to hinder her enjoyment in any way.
I just walked the vacant streets of whatever pretentious town I was in, just telling myself not to show any emotion. I wanted to get lost, I was so hopeful I wouldn't find the subway. The lights of Manhattan teased me from across the river, and I knew I deserved that. I deserved it, because I shoud've known better.
Although scared and saddend by my poor choices, I pressed on. I refused to ask for help; I was determined to make it out of this on my own. And like other obsitcles in my life, I made it through.
Wallow in my sorrow, if only for a moment. Like a cocaine buzz, this to shall pass.
Join me this evening, at 8 at UCB for some Krompf. Thank you to those that made the previous evening, so blogable. Now, I'll go to my lunch table, and you go to yours. In ten years, we'll laugh about it - well, I will when I tell the story on Conan.
Oh, and you'll be happy to learn Jack-Ass is offically over and done with. But I am concerned for him. Emotional impotance is a very real problem in today's society; the Mental Health field has grown leaps and bounds, and I'm sure the right medication for your social disease, is out there. As for your physical impotance, again let me point you into the direction of proper medication. And please take comfort in knowing, I had the dubious honor of being the first person "bed" on your bed since you moved to Brooklyn. It's strange, because you weren't even in the room at the time. Nella guerra delle parole, vincerò sempre. Vaffunculo. L'Estremità.
One of my roommates is such fun, a real treat to be around. I look forward to coming home, and chatting all evening with her. I haven't had a friend like her in I don't know how long. We share some common interests, enjoy each other's company, and continualy make one another laugh, but we are fairly different.
She invites me to hang out with her friends, friends she's had for years. Right away, there's a bit of resentment and contsternation towards me, but that's understood when someone new invades the sacred sanitarium of friendship. These girls are very cool. They treat me well, and I feel they've accepted me, to a point. I think they feel I'm not a threat towards them. I'm safe. Reliable. Square. And to a point, that's true. But it's tiresome trying to prove to someone who's not of the same fiber, that a Square can coexist with a Hipster.
My roommate invites me to places, I wouldn't typically be clamoring to go to. But, I moved to the City, wanting to expand my horizons, experience new things. I come with her, simply because I like her company, and I'd love to get to know her group a little better.
This evening, we went to a dance club in Williamsburg or Greenpoint. It's all the same to me. The music was so loud, the lights were so bright, the people were so hip, I quickly lost my ability to keep up this charade. I desperatly wanted to leave, but I hung in there, for the sake of my dignity, and my social life. I followed my roommate, like a scared child lost in the mall, but she was all right with it. She made sure I didn't become lost, which I appreciate. Unfortunatly, she didn't realize I was lost the moment they stamped my hand at the door.
I left, and her friends seemed to support this decision. "Here's an easy way to the subway." Although my roommate was concerned, I didn't want my departure to hinder her enjoyment in any way.
I just walked the vacant streets of whatever pretentious town I was in, just telling myself not to show any emotion. I wanted to get lost, I was so hopeful I wouldn't find the subway. The lights of Manhattan teased me from across the river, and I knew I deserved that. I deserved it, because I shoud've known better.
Although scared and saddend by my poor choices, I pressed on. I refused to ask for help; I was determined to make it out of this on my own. And like other obsitcles in my life, I made it through.
Wallow in my sorrow, if only for a moment. Like a cocaine buzz, this to shall pass.
Join me this evening, at 8 at UCB for some Krompf. Thank you to those that made the previous evening, so blogable. Now, I'll go to my lunch table, and you go to yours. In ten years, we'll laugh about it - well, I will when I tell the story on Conan.
Oh, and you'll be happy to learn Jack-Ass is offically over and done with. But I am concerned for him. Emotional impotance is a very real problem in today's society; the Mental Health field has grown leaps and bounds, and I'm sure the right medication for your social disease, is out there. As for your physical impotance, again let me point you into the direction of proper medication. And please take comfort in knowing, I had the dubious honor of being the first person "bed" on your bed since you moved to Brooklyn. It's strange, because you weren't even in the room at the time. Nella guerra delle parole, vincerò sempre. Vaffunculo. L'Estremità.
14.1.07
Mike Myers says hi!
Planning on going to Sing Sing for some much needed Karioke, with - well, that part's not really important. But the point is, I was waiting for my group to finish their cigs, when through the window at Sing Sing, I see one of my idols, one of by biggest celebrity crushes, the best part of 54 - Mike Myers!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because I have such respect for him as a performer, I didn't disturb him and his much younger girlfriend. Does that mean, I'd verbally abuse Kirsten Dunst or Dane Cook - it's a definate possibilty. He's hair is cut so beautifully, and is so shiny. The wait for singing was horribly long, so I left. Oh, you'd never ever hear the end of it if I had sung Pat Benetar for Mike Myers! Never.
13.1.07
You want reality? I've got your reality right here.
My career hit an all time low today. Playing Checkers with the 7yr old (she beat me only once), the mother (nudist) comes over and sits down. She asks, "I hope you don't think I'm crossing a boundary, but would you mind giving me a massage?" This was in front of her child. See, I have a problem saying no, in basically everything I do. I'm so eager to please, and consequently I become a doormat of sorts. You're wondering if I gave in? Well, that's what Purell and electric shock therapy are for.
Now, I try not to be judgemental about people, but it's quite hard sometimes. And if I am judging, I keep in to myself, usually. But today, I couldn't hide it. The mother, who as a reminder weighs over 300lbs, asked me to get her some Ben & Jerry's from the market. She was very secretive about it, because she disn't want her children seeing her eat. I was to get 8 pints of ice cream, in an assortment of flavors. My immediate reply was, "Eight? Do you really want eight pints of ice cream?" She appeared shocked, as if it's perfectly normal to devour enough ice cream to feed the children's wing at Bellvue. Relizing my faux-pah, I apologized, "it's none of my business what you do with your ice cream." See how smooth.
I was told to call her, if certain flavors were unavailable. After three markets, I called her from the Gristedes at 84th & Columbus. She instructed me to read every Ben & Jerry's flavor they carried, all 23 of them. Once she was happy, I took the pints to the cashier. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is, buying eight pints of ice cream all at once? Almost as embarrassing as admitting I gave the crazy lady a massage in front of her daughter. Oh yeah, she gave a few of those massage moans. Time to go set my hands on fire.
there's a crazy guy playing my clarinet, and I'm not pleased.
Now, I try not to be judgemental about people, but it's quite hard sometimes. And if I am judging, I keep in to myself, usually. But today, I couldn't hide it. The mother, who as a reminder weighs over 300lbs, asked me to get her some Ben & Jerry's from the market. She was very secretive about it, because she disn't want her children seeing her eat. I was to get 8 pints of ice cream, in an assortment of flavors. My immediate reply was, "Eight? Do you really want eight pints of ice cream?" She appeared shocked, as if it's perfectly normal to devour enough ice cream to feed the children's wing at Bellvue. Relizing my faux-pah, I apologized, "it's none of my business what you do with your ice cream." See how smooth.
I was told to call her, if certain flavors were unavailable. After three markets, I called her from the Gristedes at 84th & Columbus. She instructed me to read every Ben & Jerry's flavor they carried, all 23 of them. Once she was happy, I took the pints to the cashier. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is, buying eight pints of ice cream all at once? Almost as embarrassing as admitting I gave the crazy lady a massage in front of her daughter. Oh yeah, she gave a few of those massage moans. Time to go set my hands on fire.
there's a crazy guy playing my clarinet, and I'm not pleased.
Don't even get me started.
Firstly, the movie's tagline in eerily similar to my memoir's title. Secondly, she's SO wrong for this role - no, I'm not getting into it, just trust me. Finally, if as a Nanny she was attending a function where her charge was required to wear formal dress, she would be required to dress much, MUCH more demurely then pictured. Come on! 
There's never a happy medium; integrity does have it's price.
I don't attend the Cinema often. When I do, it's usually for kid-related fare. Or Shortbus. Which would you choose? So, I was pleased to take the 7yr old and her companion (who claims to be a Princess in Ghana*) to see Night at the Museum. I had just begun working here, when they were filming. It was the first time I'd walked through a movie set, and, well you can guess my level of mania was quiet high.
It was a fun movie, but I was most excited because I'm a huge History buff, I love LOVE Dick Van Dyck, and the screenplay was written by Robert Ben Garant & Thomas Lennon. I love & support any State-backed projects, even if that includes Herbie Fully Loaded; sadly, it does.
time to dole out medicine...
It was a fun movie, but I was most excited because I'm a huge History buff, I love LOVE Dick Van Dyck, and the screenplay was written by Robert Ben Garant & Thomas Lennon. I love & support any State-backed projects, even if that includes Herbie Fully Loaded; sadly, it does.
time to dole out medicine...
12.1.07
Swoon worthy!
What's that you say? You say you weren't one of the 512 people to see the 2 month Broadway run of Chess? Oh, you missed Shogun the Musical & Rockebye Hamlet as well? Do you love Golden Globe nominees that fade into oblivion? I see. Well, you dig tremendous talent, comanding stage presence, and raw sexuality? Me too! Come see Chicago with my father's Hebrew school student, the one and only...Philip Casnoff!!!!!!!! It's at the Ambassador, in case you were wondering.
Little girls, little girls; everywhere I eat, sleep, and breath them
Today, I'm a commodity. I'm being "shared" by two families. In the "biz" we call this a Nanny Share. In reality, this is what the Confederate party was fighting for. Normally, the mothers coordinate the share amongts themselves, leaving the Nanny somewhat out of the loop. Here, I'm the liason between the two because they don't get along with each other.
The two girls know I care for both of them, and they are aware I act a particular way with each one. I'm very careful not to play favorites; it's really easy for me to care for 2 or more kids at a time. I just prefer multiples.
Switching gears slightly, I forgot to explain myself for my somber behavior at Cage Match last evening. On the way home from work, I got on the "6" train at 77th St.. I like the "6" almost as much as the "4". I typically take the "C" to the "L", but the crosstown bus was sitting there, looking helpless, so I hopped on. At 33rd St, a small group of Asian NYU students got on, and squished up agianst me. There was plenty of room farther down the bench, but whatever. Suddenly, the girl right next to me opened up a small Tupperware container of food. Weird. She began eating what appeared to be a small salad, and was gesticulating like mad with her fork. She was making me very uncomfortable. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something shiny in the container. It was scales. To a fish. Oh, crapp I though I was going to be sick. I then noticed something else - an eye. The freakin fish this broad was eating, had an EYE!!!!!!! The man sitting across the way, asked me if I was allright. I said yes, why? He replied I was turning green. The women finally realizing my discomfort, apologized and moved. I got off at the next stop, Astor Place, and proceeded to vomit outside the Starbucks facing Cooper Union. I'm sure I'm not the first person to spew into a trash can in the East Village.
The two girls know I care for both of them, and they are aware I act a particular way with each one. I'm very careful not to play favorites; it's really easy for me to care for 2 or more kids at a time. I just prefer multiples.
Switching gears slightly, I forgot to explain myself for my somber behavior at Cage Match last evening. On the way home from work, I got on the "6" train at 77th St.. I like the "6" almost as much as the "4". I typically take the "C" to the "L", but the crosstown bus was sitting there, looking helpless, so I hopped on. At 33rd St, a small group of Asian NYU students got on, and squished up agianst me. There was plenty of room farther down the bench, but whatever. Suddenly, the girl right next to me opened up a small Tupperware container of food. Weird. She began eating what appeared to be a small salad, and was gesticulating like mad with her fork. She was making me very uncomfortable. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something shiny in the container. It was scales. To a fish. Oh, crapp I though I was going to be sick. I then noticed something else - an eye. The freakin fish this broad was eating, had an EYE!!!!!!! The man sitting across the way, asked me if I was allright. I said yes, why? He replied I was turning green. The women finally realizing my discomfort, apologized and moved. I got off at the next stop, Astor Place, and proceeded to vomit outside the Starbucks facing Cooper Union. I'm sure I'm not the first person to spew into a trash can in the East Village.
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