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!
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!
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