Finding My Voice

Limbo

2008-08-08T23:19:00.000-07:00

For as long as I can remember, I've been a planner.

Not necessarily the list-making kind. But in my head - always planning. Next steps. And then next. And next. My mind is always several steps ahead of wherever I actually am at any given moment.

And for as long as I can remember, whenever I've gotten hit with anything (good, bad or downright tragic) that interferes with the plan ... after taking a day or two (max three days) to wallow, I create a new plan.

I'm really flexible that way.

But it helps. I need the structure. I need to know the next steps.

I hate not knowing.

Since my father died, my entire life has been in limbo. Just the coping part has been rough enough, but there is literally so much unfinished business that I've been feeling completely at sea for months on end.

I've never been without a plan for more than a few days. Five months is making me a little ... crazy.

And yesterday, when I found out that this has dragged on for five months for no other reason than the fact that the person I hired to tie up the loose ends just essentially forgot about me as a client? I had a complete meltdown.

I don't know about you (the handful who read), but sometimes a good meltdown can be not just cathartic but a little clarifying. So I do feel a little better today.

But I'll feel a HELL of a lot better when I get that piece of paper that ties up all the loose ends and we're free to make some Life Decisions.

Happy Anniversary.

2008-08-06T01:05:00.000-07:00

Has it been three years already?

Three down, a lifetime to go. :)

What a week.

2008-08-01T21:52:00.000-07:00

This is weird - so much to say, and no clue where to start. This is where I wish I had actual writing skills - like being able to cut through the extraneous stuff and find the meat of the story.

Many of you know that last year I decided to try to pay a little attention to my much-neglected acting "career"; I kicked it off by doing CD workshops and an industry showcase.

At the time, I had joked - some days with a little more edge than others - that I was the only person who did one of those showcases to not get ANYTHING from them - not a call, not a meeting, NADA.

Fast forward to 2008. Everything that happened with my father ... obviously life took a detour.

This summer the idea of "getting back into it" has been rolling around in my brain - and I am doing something, by producing a little film (coming soon, honest!) But I have such a ... lack of energy. Malaise. Complete and utter lack of desire to get off my ass and do ANYTHING. Everything is an effort.

Can we say "stuck in grief mode"? I knew that you could. So, first things first, I'm getting some help for that. (Hello, Universe? I admit I need help.)

I'll back up just a few weeks, when I was at that same showcase. I ran into a friendly acquaintance, who I won't name just 'cause this may end up sounding weird. He is a neat guy, an amazing actor (and always working), and quietly intense. We got to talking, and I even ended up talking about my dad a little, and my need for some quiet time to get my head on straight again. And he gave me a big bear hug, and laughed a little, and told me to enjoy that quiet time. And then he looked me straight in the eyes deep into my soul and - while I can't quote him exactly - the gist of it was "enjoy it while you can, because things are coming for you." It was this weird, random, prophetic moment that I didn't exactly take seriously but it was so unsettlingly intense in tone that I didn't even mention it to anyone.

I don't know if I'm explaining it right. :)

Anyway. Now it's this week. And on Tuesday, there was an earthquake.

And I think that earthquake jarred something loose, because within 10 minutes my phone rang. And I was being offered a job. An acting job. Not an audition. A job.

Of course, skeptic that I am, I had to do some due diligence on these people because the number of red flags that went up in this initial phone call were ... plentiful.

So, yesterday - on what would be my mother's 76th birthday - I shot a scene for a pilot. Directed by Jerry Zucker.

Hello, Universe?

You have my attention now.

PS - Why did they even have my headshot in the first place? Oh, it's been sitting in their files since one of their scouts saw me at ... that industry showcase.

Yup.

Holy Cow.

2008-07-30T18:32:00.000-07:00

It appears there may, in fact, be no "other shoe".

Holy crap.

Sometimes the karma wheel really might swing around and throw you the occasional bone.

:)

The Universe ...

2008-07-29T21:49:00.000-07:00

... moves in mysterious ways.

More on that in a future post.

Side topic: Why can't I accept good news as just that, and not as a setup to a bad joke, a hidden camera show? Waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it were?

Discuss.

RIP, Cynthia Owen

2008-07-11T17:36:00.000-07:00

This is a tough one. I'm not happy with the number of people in their 40s I've had to accept have passed over the last few years.

This was just so ... unexpected.

I won't pretend I was super-close to Cynthia, but she is definitely a part of my years in the NOLA Theatre World. It's a small community.

As her specialty was singing and dancing, you can imagine we didn't share a stage often. But we did, once, when I decided to do a musical. (Once a decade, I tell ya ...)

But in addition to my memories of WHOREHOUSE, she was just a part of the makeup of the community, and so there was time spent together. There's one night in particular, and I have no idea where we were (I think it was in mid-city) or why (theatre people drinking? who needs a reason?) or even who all was there besides us ... but I remember a whole lot of laughter. I think the reason it sticks out was because it wasn't often that I was out with her in a small group (as opposed to a cast gathering of 20+) and really enjoyed getting to know her.

There's another night I remember too, and I won't set down the story here because in fairness I heard it thirdhand (from who else? Michael Sullivan) and as such I don't think that's necessarily appropriate for me to share. But I will just say publicly that she did something one night that I thought was very classy, and cool, and raised my estimation of her many many degrees.

RIP, Cynthia. My heart goes out to your husband, your family, and all of your many many friends.

Link to Stage Click memories.
Link to WWL article including video.

Amy tagged me

2008-06-20T19:38:00.000-07:00

Random Music Meme thing (tag, I’m it)

Select Random on your MP3 player/Windows Media  2. List the first five songs and what they mean to you.

1. IT HAD TO BE YOU, Harry Connick, Jr. Home. And WHEN HARRY MET SALLY.

2. LINUS AND LUCY, Vince Guaraldi Trio. Childhood. Isn't it everyone's?

3. APHRODISIAC, Bow Wow Wow. Penny & Shari, sleepovers in Chalmette.

4. THE CHAUFFEUR, Duran Duran. Lauren, Laurie & Penny, and every weekend together, and the mall and the French Quarter and fake British accents, MTV, and Atari.

5. COUNTING BLUE CARS, Dishwalla. For reason I can't explain, when I hear this song, I'm transported to driving in my (last) car, in New Orleans, leaving rehearsal for THE CHILDREN'S HOUR (directed by Dane), window rolled down, singing along.

I'm supposed to tag 5 people, but ... if you wanna do it, do it.

"My Voice" has been mute lately

2008-05-29T22:22:00.000-07:00

I suppose I have a solid excuse - preoccupation with other ... things. Truth is, I have a LOT on my mind. And a lot to share. But sometimes finding the energy to do anything above and beyond the things I've already committed to do in a day is difficult.

I'm working on that.

I'm working on a lot of things. One day at a time and all that.

It's the end of the school year. It's the time of year where I sit in classrooms, listening to kids speak for an hour about their lives, about where they've been and where they're going.

I've said many times that I don't believe in regret. Or at least not dwelling on it. The past is the past and as such, completely unchangeable. I'm much better at being proactive, focusing on the future. Apologize for the mistake, mourn the loss, sulk about the poor choice or the bad luck ... and then move on.

But it's hard to listen to those kids and not think long and hard about the choices I made, and the choices made for me. It's hard not to think about what I wanted to do vs. what I actually did.

I don't ACTUALLY regret my choices (or those made for me). I like where I am now, and I wouldn't be here had I gone in any other direction. If I had done anything else in my college years, I wouldn't know Marissa or Maria, or any of my other dear dear friends who I stayed close to or reconnected with right here in LA. If I had gone to grad school, I wouldn't have "the boys", Michael and Dane.

And if all of the things that happened in my life that led me to LA when I did hadn't happened, would I have met my husband? Or the amazing people in my life?

But sometimes, when I think of the opportunities these kids have, I think about the choices I made. And the ones taken out of my hands.

What could be taken out of my hands? Being told I was skipping 5th grade. I don't think I actually had a choice there. Or if I had one, I doubt I fully understood it. That choice made for me at the ripe old age of 9 was probably the biggest thing to touch my life, in terms of shaping who I'd become, at least until I discovered theatre.

Sure, the truth was, I ended up bored in class and scoring off the charts on standardized tests even AFTER the grade was skipped. (I don't know why moving me to an elementary school that might actually challenge me wasn't an option, but there we are.) And I know everybody was doing the best they could (though many years later, my mother confessed that she knew in her heart of hearts that the school skipped us because they had too many fifth graders and not enough sixth.)

I was enough of a geek in my own right, but starting high school at 12 just made things worse.

Graduating high school at 16 left me with limited options. I was smart enough to know that I wasn't ready to be on my own, so my option pretty much was to live at home and go to the local university. My intention had been to do two years, and then transfer to another school, somewhere out of state, with a great theatre program. Reality check: after two years, I had amazing friends, a life I didn't want to leave. My choice, yes.

But now, I look at these kids, and as they talk about dorms and independence and junior years abroad and travel ... the things I missed out on ...

It's silly, I guess, for someone who doesn't linger on regret. But I think this is a year of reflection for me, sort of by default, isn't it.

Bad Blogger.

2008-04-04T15:53:00.000-07:00

Hi.

I'm sorry it's been so long since I last blogged. Many of you know why my blog has gone silent. But for those of you who don't ...

My father passed away a month ago.

It went like this:

He came here to visit for Christmas, and was unusually cranky, driving me even more crazy, and was a hair more hurtful than normal even for him (and who knows, maybe I gave back as good as I got.)

He visited some friends afterwards, and started not feeling well. It continued once he got home, and he wound up in the hospital. He called me to let me know on New Year's Eve.

We talked periodically, and he was due to be released a week or so later. I called him on his birthday and couldn't reach him - turns out he was only home for 48 hours and was right back in the hospital.

After a few days, they determined that he was expected to stay in for about six weeks. So I went home for just under a week to take care of some things for him. He was kinda freaked out that he had yet to pay January's rent, among other things.

I did that, as well as have his apartment cleaned and restocked. He graciously gave me power of attorney (and "the boys," my wonderful Dane and Michael, schlepped out mid-day to witness ... actually, first Michael drew it up for me, LOL), and he also graciously signed a document allowing Molly, a friend of mine he's never met let alone ever heard me mention, complete access to his medical records.

I was concerned, because I thought a six-week stay seemed pretty intense, but also because I didn't see in him his usual fight. I also was especially concerned that he wasn't reading. At all. He was lying in that bed, day in and day out, letting his brain rot, which just seemed unusual. I offered to bring him books, a paper, anything - he didn't want it.

As it turned out, he also started rejecting physical therapy. At this point, he'd hardly been out of bed in a month, so he was going to need to get his body back into shape.

I went home, concerned but not panic-stricken.

About two weeks later, I got a call from the physicians, as they were bringing him into surgery. I went back for four or five days, and watched him get better and then worse. He seemed to be recovering just fine from the surgery, and then one day he became non-responsive. Just stared. For about 24 hours. After that he started showing signs of understanding again, including the perfectly formed question, "What?"

I went home - as I had booked a round-trip ticket - and was called to come back immediately after. Like, within about 36 hours.

They didn't just call me to come back, they forced me to make major medical decisions within a matter of hours. I will not go into detail here, but I am very grateful not only to my amazing co-workers, but to my wonderful husband (of course), my cousin Laurie, the afore-mentioned Molly, and an ICU nurse who I never ever got to meet but spent 20 minutes on the phone with me.

I never want to experience anything like that again, nor do I wish it on anyone.

I went home, made my four-times-daily vigil to ICU. In the wee hours of the morning Tuesday, he passed away. I was there with him. I know that I'm glad I was there, but I'm also not sure how long that will haunt me.

The services, such as they were, were the following week. Dick came out over the weekend, and we flew home together on Tuesday.

I know I left all the medical details out of this story. Does it matter, at this point?

still more random thoughts

2008-02-19T01:01:00.000-08:00

** I am grateful for friends. Friends who call at 11pm and say "I think you need to come out with us." Friends who say "It's been a while, but I'm here if you need me."

** The scent of Polo just screams "hello '80s!" In a way that makes me giggle.

** If you're driving through an above-ground parking garage, and going up from floors one to two to three, etc, by the time you get to the sign that says "team members, do not park below this floor," haven't you already NOT parked below that floor? And further, if you did, how would you know not to since you haven't reached the sign yet?

** Does "Omega Hospital" sound like a good thing? Maybe it's just me, but something about that sounds like a bad sci-fi movie. (No, not where my dad is. I just drive by it on the way there.)

** I want someone to drop down, fairy-godmother-like, and tell me what to do. But I want it to be what I *should* do, not what they THINK I should do. There's a subtle yet important distinction.

** For New Orleanians only: all the work they're doing on Causeway at I-10 and they still haven't figured out how to make those exits any less of a clusterf*ck?

** I miss cafe au lait.

** Things I'd forgotten about: Women of an age, wearing jogging suits, tennis shoes, hair teased and sprayed like a football helmet, full heavy makeup, manicured nails, and jewelry. It's a hell of a visual.

more random thoughts

2008-02-17T20:57:00.000-08:00

** There's a Rite Aid that looks like it's seen better days (it probably looked that way pre-Katrina but really looks sad and creepy now) ... but what I love about it is the big pharmacy sign on the back wall in K&B purple. (That only makes sense to New Orleanians.) That makes me smile.

** Stopped at a convenience store at a gas station and all these years later, still can't help but remember The Flood (the last big event pre-Katrina) and how Sheila and I sloshed over to it in water up to our thighs with a deep need for the bathroom. And snacks. After all, we hadn't planned to spend the night on the street. And how Harry Lee gave us a ride back to the car.

** I always make fun of the Encore movie channels (going back to when their slogan was "a good movie every night," which tickled me. Yup, one. Just one. The rest are crap. But when I'm here at my dad's, I'm glued to their channels and I don't know why.

** I love my husband.

** I eat like crap when I'm here because the food is so good. And because I can only get the good stuff here, so I feel compelled to enjoy it while I can. And because even when you TRY to eat healthy food here, if you don't know where to look for it (and I don't), it can end up being a bit of a joke. I was looking at a grocery-store salad bar ... more mayonnaise and/or oil-based salads (potato! pasta!) than actual plain veggies.

** I'm two for two now on something going wrong in my father's apartment while I'm staying here. Last time it was the plumbing (I took a shower upstairs and it rained downstairs). This time, the garbage disposal.

random thoughts

2008-02-17T16:45:00.000-08:00

From an exhausted person.

** If you have to fly when you have a cold (or allergies or sinus infection, etc.) do yourself a favor and get Ear Planes. When we were landing, my ears kept popping and popping and I thought "I don't think these things are actually working," but then we landed, I took them out, and all was clear. No pain, clear as can be. (Had a *little* bit of pain that also disappeared upon landing.) Remembering the last time I flew when sick, and was in tears from the pain ... I think this definitely does something positive.

** There is nothing comfortable about air travel.

** I can describe weather patterns in New Orleans in great detail. I lived here most of my life, I know the drill. Yet, somehow, *experiencing* it again ... I find myself actually SURPRISED by it. That makes no sense.

** There is nothing comfortable about hospital waiting rooms. Maybe the idea is to drive home the point that it could be worse, you could be a patient.

** I still really don't like hospitals.

** Every muscle in my body is tense.

** I am grateful for my father's neighbor who doesn't lock his wireless signal.

** I find my father's apartment extremely uncomfortable, and wonder how it is that a man who raised me in a home with a television in every single room, creating a lifelong dependence on white noise, now has no source of white noise upstairs. At all.

** Good ICU nurses are worth their weight in gold. Or more.

** I understand that doctors don't have crystal balls but I really wish they did. And I really wish someone could give me a road map for what I'm supposed to be doing, here.

** I know that things are still funky post-Katrina but ... should a coffee shop be closed on Sunday? Really??? :(

Some news!

2008-02-12T17:24:00.000-08:00

Completely non-dad-related.

For starters ... it was seven years ago today that Dick got back in town after his NY gig, and headed immediately over to my place (after two weeks of emailing daily - sometimes two, three, yes FOUR times a day!) for our first date ... and we've been together ever since.
(This also marks the seven-year anniversary of Kim landing herself in the emergency room, but I imagine that's a story for another day.) ;)

Happy Dating Anniversary, honey!

And while I'm doling out the happiness and congratulations ...

I checked the LA Weekly today and hey hey! Ark scored FOUR nominations for A DOLL'S HOUSE. Elina de Santos for directing, Anna Quirino Miranda for Nora, Renae Geerlings for Mrs. Linde, and last but not least, my darling hubby Richard Tatum for Krogstad.

Yay!!!

and then ....

2008-02-10T21:17:00.000-08:00

It was the end of a crazed, hectic week. I had made the choice to fly out on a Saturday night during Mardi Gras, so a) no one could take me to the airport and b) traffic would suck. So I made sure to order the cab super-early so traffic wouldn't be an issue. End result? Cab 10 minutes late, and I'm still checked in and at my gate a full two hours before my flight.

I was a little thrown when my gate only referenced a flight that had left hours ago, rather than my flight leaving in two hours - but heck, I'd checked in fine, and I chalked it up to being so freaking early.

I pull out my laptop and get onto the internet, and someone stops by and asks if this is, indeed, the right gate for Los Angeles. I told her I sure hoped it was, and continued on to United's web site. Maybe there had been a gate change, and I'd have had no way of knowing.

Nope. Still the right gate, flight now about 20 minutes late, but otherwise fine. So I head on over to Blogger and type the entry below. I'm figuring on settling in for a good hour and a half.

I typed exactly that much when a United representative announced that our flight was canceled, and to please line up at the gate for assistance.

Aargh! That's never happened to me before, not ever. Suddenly I went from lounging about for 90 minutes to getting reassigned to a Continental flight (no more direct flight, sigh) which actually leaves 30 minutes EARLIER than the flight I was supposed to be on. Had to go back out, re-check in for a boarding pass, and GO THROUGH SECURITY AGAIN. Having to throw away the bottle of water I'd just purchased, appropriately, within the airport secure walls ... and of course, getting "flagged" for security since it was a last-minute airline change. So I ended up at the gate just in time to board and oh yeah, call home because my arrival time was so drastically changing!

It was an adventure.

Amazingly, my luggage arrived. I was so sure it wouldn't possibly.

But here I am, two weeks later, sitting on the sofa half-watching tv with my husband and my dog all snuggled up to me (so much that I can barely type). Although it's an improvement over yesterday, when he was so determined to help me with my email that he managed to hit the combination of keys that rotates the screen by 90 degrees. That's one talented doggie.

Regarding my father, I still don't know a whole lot. I should know a little more this coming week.

Heading home

2008-01-26T15:44:00.000-08:00

Editor's Note: This was what I typed on Sat, Jan 26, in the early evening, at the New Orleans airport.

____________

I can't believe this week is at an end.

I've kept it together for most of the week - a mild breakdown here or there - but walking out of the hospital this afternoon just did me in.

Feeling like a hamster.

2008-01-24T12:10:00.000-08:00

Spinning, spinning, spinning ... accomplishing ... what?

I know things ARE getting done, it's just sooooooooooo slow. Yet I'm running from place to place, going a million miles an hour ... at least it feels that way ...

I keep making lists, and I get things checked off that list, but then three more lists take its place ...

A week seemed like a long time, but I guess I knew in my gut it would barely be enough. I just keep hoping I don't forget anything.

And on a separate note - I leave you with another wonderful Michael quote:
"I've always said that visiting Frank* is like invading Iraq. My advice would be not to do it without a viable exit strategy."

* Name changed to protect the guilty.

I have no idea.

2008-01-21T19:01:00.001-08:00

I just ... have no idea. I'll keep saying it. No idea. Nary a clue.

About what, you might ask?

Anything, I think.

I'm in New Orleans. That, of course, all by itself, raises a whole host of emotions. Especially as I find myself looking for places that don't exist.

Add to that why I'm here: my father, who just turned 83, has been in the hospital since just before the new year.

Add to that - since I wanted get as many business days in as possible, I'm here for six days, and it wasn't worth having Dick take off work and cancel a week of rehearsals on an already tight schedule ... so I'm here solo. Which sucks. As I sit here, in my dad's living room, seeing ... seeing things I don't want to see ... and I wish very much that he was here.

I've been to the hospital twice today. I don't like hospitals. I imagine no one does, really, but the smell of them ...

Sigh. I know that I was building up something horrible in my mind before coming down here, but upon my arrival I find that I at once overestimated and underestimated the severity of the situation. I know that sounds nonsensical. But less than 24 hours into this trip, I'm less worried about some things and more worried about others.

It all just makes my head spin. I'm sitting here, alternately blogging and playing solitaire. There's a slew of things I need to do - my dad gave me a nice to-do list! - but I just can't bring myself to start. Bleh.

All right, here it is.

2008-01-20T00:08:00.000-08:00

http://www.studio360.org/episodes/2008/01/11

Probably way less exciting than what I built up. (You have to scroll down to the second segment, called "Hometown Pride".)

But honestly, the thing that scares the daylights out of me is public speaking. Acting, no problem. And even public speaking if someone else writes what I'm supposed to say. But to just speak in my words? As me? Hell no! I end up feeling like a complete and utter idiot.

I don't know that I ever actually AGREED to do this interview, either, which was one of the things that had me extra-stressed-out. I said I'd answer questions about New Orleans for the screener, but the next thing I knew, I was informed of what time Kurt would be calling, yadda yadda.

Seriously, guys, I am BAD at this. Once when doing an early-morning radio interview back in New Orleans (yes, a city where you could actually get press for your small theatre production on the radio and on the morning news!) I was with a few other people, and I said something that caused them both to dive and push me out of the way and say "don't say that!" To which I replied - and did I mention this was extraordinarily early on a Sunday morning? - "Hey, you put me in front of the mic, you get what you get."

When I arrived at a rehearsal later that day, one of my partners just laughed at me. "You get what you get?"

Kinda.

Anyway, happy listening.

Put on a happy face!

2008-01-16T17:27:00.000-08:00

There is something incredibly surreal about being in the mindframe that I'm in and having to listen to PUT ON A HAPPY FACE for an hour. Over and over and over.

Thank you, Michael.

2008-01-16T12:43:00.001-08:00

For the quote of the day.

"I'm not just going to pay some random Pakistani $500 because he asks for it!"

I always forget.

2008-01-16T12:19:00.000-08:00

How freaking NICE people in New Orleans are.

I don't mean my friends. I mean the strangers. Sometimes, on a bad day, a well-placed "dawlin'" will go a long, long way.

Patience, people.

2008-01-06T01:54:00.000-08:00

Thank you all for your interest. ;) I just still don't know if I'm telling yet. Soon, soon.

Today

2007-12-28T11:07:00.000-08:00

Today, I did something that scared the crap out of me.

One of the things that scares me the most - right up there with heights and enclosed spaces - is making an ass of myself in public.

At least, as myself. I have no problem being on stage and potentially making an ass of myself ... in character.

But as me? Uh-uh. It's horrifying.

So, today I did something that either was very cool or caused me to make an ass of myself. If I made an ass of myself, I will not speak of this again. If I didn't, I'll post more later.

Post-Christmas

2007-12-26T15:37:00.000-08:00

I don't even know where to start. I woke up at about 3:30am and couldn't get back to sleep, so I'm exhausted. I feel like crap, physically and emotionally. My appetite is gone all to hell in a handbasket. And I've got so much on my mind that it's going to be an effort to try and not ramble here.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be born into a "normal" family. A family where people actually like each other and WANT to be together.

I'm sure many people think that. If not most.

And in terms of dysfunction ... I don't have it so bad. And I know that.

But I am SO disconnected. From my entire family. I don't want to be, necessarily, but I am. Always have been. I spent my entire life connected to my family - close or distant - through my mother. Being with my mother. Having my mother put me on the phone with them. Hearing updates on their lives through my mother.

And that was fine. I didn't feel like I was missing anything. My friends have always been my "family".

Once I lost my mother, my closest connection to the family is now my father. In fact, he is my ONLY real family connection.

Did I mention that my main connection to my father was through my mother as well? Even though they were happily married and I grew up in a house with both of them?

So we tried very late in life to start a real relationship. Neither of us has done a bang-up job. We both tried very, very hard in the months after my mother died, but since then ... not so much.

Don't get me wrong: my mother and I didn't have an easy relationship. But fight as we did, we at least said what was on our minds.

I can't with him. You can't have a discussion or an argument with my father, because you will never win. You will never agree to disagree. He's right, and not only are you wrong, you're a moron.

And those are just some of the issues.

Is it possible to be nursing an emotional hangover?

Ever have one of those days?

2007-12-01T13:41:00.000-08:00

Sort of a "perfect storm" of things going wrong?

To be fair, I have hardly had a spectacular week, but yesterday was ... priceless.

It began with waking up, groggily (been up at the theater too late the night before), becoming aware it was raining. Raining. Oooooh, crap. See, my school holds an outdoor fundraiser every year. Very popular. Fun for the kids. Never been rained out in the history of the school. And it was pouring.

Get to work and discover they in fact, have not cancelled; the kids are out in the rain (which let's face it, the kids are loving.) OK, great. All I know is I've gone to said fundraiser every year I've worked there; this is the first year I felt like I'd been there, done that, and I had too much work to barrel through to take a few hours away. And frankly, I was a little relieved that if I was going to miss one, I'm glad I'd picked this one! Thinking for a moment that the fates were on my side ...

... I quickly discovered otherwise. I won't bore you with the work-related things that went wrong. Suffice it to say that my co-worker and I were taking turns walking into each others' office and starting with: "Just shoot me." Unexpected screwups and unanticipated volume of new projects made my day all about running around, troubleshooting, and somehow, trying to get my normal Friday work done.

Now, while all of this chaos was unfolding around me, I was content in the knowledge that while we'd had to push the TWIST opening back from that night (Friday) to the next (Saturday), all was now well in the world. The designer pulled an all-nighter to get all the finishing work and painting done, and set up the projector, and we'd have a crazy but great tech that night.

Until I got this email. Forwarded from the PM who'd received it from the designer. Apparently, the message said, the projector simply didn't work as advertised. They'd tried everything, it said, but they couldn't make it work. Maybe we could with a better projector; maybe we just needed to scrap the idea. Sorry.

Blink. Blink.

What???

And oh, it gets better. As people started arriving at the theatre to help finish up, they found that not only was the projector gone, but he'd taken the screen too. (So even if we found another projector in 24 hours ...) And (better and better), he'd taken away every set piece he'd offered to loan us.

Now, we're supposed to open in a day and we have no backdrop, unfinished flats, and missing set pieces. Fan-freaking-tastic!

I'm now - in between the chaos at work - on the phone with Patty, with Dick, with Paul, all trying to find solutions ... besides the obvious, being: We will open next Thursday instead. (As the business manager, this hurts my very soul.)

My wonderful wonderful boss kept telling me to just go and take care of the theater; while I appreciated that, I kept pointing to the giant pile of work that had to be done today ...

In 20 years of theatre, I have never seen a professional just walk away the day before opening. Without explanation.

But we have a wonderful cast and crew, and company as a whole. People are coming out to help build today, and paint tomorrow. And the show is seriously going to rock.

So come on out and support us. Starting next Thursday. I promise you'll laugh. A lot. And you'll know what went on during the tech week from hell. And you'll nod, knowingly. And you'll be so impressed at how we bounced back! :)

All things being equal, though, I could definitely do WITHOUT a day like yesterday again any time soon.

Some days ...

2007-11-26T00:18:00.000-08:00

... in the middle of nowhere, for no obvious reason ...

I miss my mother.

Today is one of those days.

So much on my mind ...

2007-11-15T19:09:00.000-08:00

I'm afraid if I really start here, I may not stop. And I have lines to learn! Things to do.

But I'll go for a few highlights, for now.

First of all, read Amy's blog. Talk about a bad day! Amy, I know you're not much of a hugger, but consider this a well-meaning online hug. :)

The Ovation Awards were this past week. Just the other day. it was the craziest thing: just when I was about to suggest to the Powers That Be at Ark that maybe we might want to stop shelling out money for Ovation registrations when we never, ever, ever, ever see the light of a nomination ... when we got two. Go Team Ark!

This is my size 2 dress, by the by. Ha ha.

Anyway, for the one or two people who might not know this, Dick got a nomination for Best Supporting Actor in a Play for his work in A DOLL'S HOUSE, and JoAnna got a nomination for costume design for LES LIAISONS DANGEREUSES. Photo of the nominees below.

Even though we scored no wins, it was fun to be there. And there was a GREAT group from Ark who came out to support. I think we managed to match volume of noise against some of the bigger companies!!! Heck, the largest group, up in the balcony, even got called out by Garry Marshall. Hee hee.

Goodness knows it could be another six or seven years before we're at that party again ... but I hope not! :)

So that's mainly what's going on ... TWIST opens the 30th, please come see it ... if you didn't get an Ark newsletter today via email, and you want one, drop a line to newsletter@arktheatre.org and we'll take care of that ...

Then of course, there's the WGA strike. And I can't say it better than Douglas did when he put together a little blurb for the Ark newsletter (we're offering $5 tickets for TWIST for WGA members) ... "without the writers, we'd be a company of mimes."

Notes to the Producers

2007-11-09T09:44:00.000-08:00

To the producing team for HEROES:

It's really cool that you've brought New Orleans into the mix. Let's face it, never has a city in our country needed a superhero more. (What they'd really need is for Monica to watch on television an example of a great leader, and then she could run for mayor, and ... but I digress.)

But there are enough native New Orleanians living here in Los Angeles that you could, pretty easily, do the tiniest bit of fact-checking.

"Half the people in this county are living in FEMA trailers," Monica said.

Which would be fine ... if there were such a thing as a "county" in Louisiana.

There isn't.

And the accents! Everybody sounds like they're from deep in Mississippi ... the worst offender being Monica's co-worker at the burger place. And I was willing to accept that, and justified it in my head as "hey, maybe she moved here from elsewhere in the south, either before or after the storm, it's not like no one with an accent *lives* there ..." Until they set up that the two of them had been friends since kindergarten.

Sigh.

It's not hard, folks. Take a page out of K-Ville's book.

Yes, OK, they're actually THERE ... and sometimes they try a little TOO hard ... but at least they're trying.

Guess what I did today!

2007-10-28T23:28:00.000-07:00

I bought a dress.

Sure, not the most obviously exciting thing to happen.

Except for the fact that ... it's a size 2.

Yup.

Happy, happy, happy me.

What's with the Cheerios?

2007-10-17T21:50:00.000-07:00

OK, so, since this whole diet thing started, besides your basic changes to my eating habits ... I've started eating breakfast. Like, every day. Every day. I know. Crazy, huh?

As I started transitioning off the Jenny Craig foods, the first thing I figured was safe was the cereal. I like cereal, and I'm more than capable of measuring exact amounts, so ... why spend the money on those single-serving bags when I can buy whole boxes of equivalent cereal in a grocery store?

One of the JC cereals is a Frosted Oats thing. So hey, first thing I bought on my own was Frosted Cheerios. There are others I buy and like (I actually read what's in the dang things now), but I also like the Frosted Cheerios. It's a little sweet (and yet diet-approved).

Went to buy some recently. There was practically an entire shelf of Cheerio varieties. I kid you not. Honey nut. Yogurt burst. Berry. On and on and on ...

No Frosted.

I figured they were out. A few weeks later ... still nada.

So I tried a different store. Same thing!

Seriously, the idea of Yogurt Berry Cheerios just sounds repulsive to me. And plain, I'm just not that crazy about.

I finally had to go to a THIRD store to get them.

What's up with that?

Yikes! Has it really been over a month?

2007-10-11T08:14:00.000-07:00

I knew I'd been busy ... I don't think I realized that my last post was in August.

I'll be back soon ... promise!

Remember.

2007-08-29T00:01:00.000-07:00

Remember.

New Orleans, 8-29-05. RIP.

Hip, hip, hurray!

2007-08-27T13:55:00.000-07:00

Well, more about "hips", kinda.

I forgot to post a week or two ago - I've hit my "halfway" weight. Meaning ... I'm almost there. I'm hovering around the weight I was when I first moved to LA, which is a huge step in the right direction.

But most importantly: I took my three pairs of size 4 jeans down off the shelf. One needed to go back up and wait a little longer - but two of them ... I fit into. I don't think I'm *quite* ready to wear them yet - just because they zip and button doesn't make them flattering yet! But when I think about how it wasn't all that long ago that wearing them again was but a fantasy ... I'm a happy, happy, girl.

Spam spam spam

2007-08-25T00:18:00.000-07:00

Mostly, I just delete spam. Sometimes I report it to spamcop. Sometimes I'm amused by the "from" names. And every once in a while, something catches my eye and I'm drawn to read it.

These two items were back to back. Enjoy.

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Tomorrow Night!

2007-08-10T12:32:00.001-07:00

A DOLL'S HOUSE opens tomorrow.

Don't miss it. It's a relatively short run. :)

I've said it before ...

2007-08-08T11:47:00.000-07:00

... I'll say it again.

Tech + PMS = bad

Don't get me wrong, it's not like my role in DOLL'S HOUSE is so overwhelming, LOL. It's just that I have one stupid prop that is a life force of its own: a Christmas tree.

The tree is huge. And kinda heavy. And it's a serious pain in my ass. (Actually, it's a literal pain in my back.)

The tree is brought on - as though it were just chopped down - by someone else, and I remove it. Where to stash it backstage, when it's about the same width as the entire backstage area, is a challenge. Doing it quietly is impossible, as its branches drag across the flats.

I get it in a corner. But now we have to get it into its stand. I get Dick to help me. We go to set it near the door. He picks it up - it comes right out of the stand. Undaunted, we reset it in its stand near the door. Of course, I've completely forgotten the number of people who still have to enter and exit prior to the tree's entrance. I go to move the tree back to its corner, and of course it comes out of its stand again.

I cannot get it back into its stand alone, and even if I could - what difference does it make? I can't pick it up WITH the stand. It will fall off.

Finally after everyone's entered or exited, I drag it back to the door (again, with the brushing loudly against the flats). I bring the tree on, Anna helps me (thankfully!) ... only she sees that it's still without a stand. She continues to hold it as a mumble something about getting the stand, go off to get it - and see, next to the stand, that there are about three branches that have completely fallen off the tree.

Something about that just did me in. And I just hit that moment of overwhelming pre-menstrual irrational emotion, and I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh or cry (both wildly inappropriate!) ... and I picked up the stupid branches, and laughing (yet on the verge of sobbing) flung them across backstage. Of course, Jaxon was kind of in my way and I'm not sure whether he managed to duck in time.

I then brought the stand out, Anna and I put the tree in the stand, and after this three-act comedy of the tree was complete, I said my line: "Do you need anything else?" Of course, said with such utter exhaustion and frustration that poor Anna nearly lost it in a fit of giggles.

I then exited and found Jaxon and made sure he knew I was in no way throwing the branches AT him. He did. He's a pretty affable guy. Thankfully.

Oddly, I was kind of fine after that.

Much craziness.

2007-08-02T20:28:00.000-07:00

As actors, we're all too familiar with the phrase "work begets work".

That, along with "feast or famine", are what we live with.

I'm sure it's everything to do with what we put out into the universe ... but it's pretty consistent. I wanted to start auditioning and working again. And at the moment I have no free day for weeks - and it's pretty much filled with Acting Stuff. Working on another play; auditions; assisting a casting director by being a reader. It started ...

Well, technically it started at the top of the year. I joined a second theatre company, I did a show.

Then I decided to start working on the "career" aspect. I got new headshots, did a showcase, started postcarding again.

Then, after feeling a little at sea, I committed to "getting out there" again. I decided to start goint to Playwrights 6 workshops ... two nights a month. And like clockwork, I've had to miss a few because suddenly I'm so busy! I did a lab show (PROOF - thank you, Trina!); I agreed to be the maid in A DOLL'S HOUSE (I don't consider 10 lines throughout 3 acts much of an acting challenge, but someone needs to do it and it's always good for me to be around a GOOD show, which this is); I started taking the fabulous workshops offered at my other theatre company; I'm production managing another show; I have two auditions this week; I'm being a reader for a casting director tomorrow; my short film project with Shelley and Amy is being developed. Whew! Sleep? Yikes!

(Just as a postscript - I wrote this post on August 2. Today is August 8. I'm just noticing I didn't post it. What was that I said about lack of sleep ... ?)

Happy Birthday, Mom.

2007-07-31T23:03:00.000-07:00

She would have been 75. Three quarters of a century.

(Photo: Mom, some time in the '60s.)

Happy (but confused).

2007-07-18T11:51:00.000-07:00

Or ... thank you, Jenny?

I lost a pound and a half while on vacation.

After I stopped laughing, I turned to my counselor - not my regular guy today - and said: can you explain to me why I lose only half a pound or gain while I follow this plan to the letter - but left on my own for a week I lose a pound and a half???

I think the bottom line was "lots of activity" - which is probably true. Certain lots of walking in NYC, but also in and around Philly. Airports. Train stations. Shopping. Etc. OK. I'll buy that.

So I guess instead of being frustrated ... I will simply be grateful that clearly, being on this program HAS taught me a thing or two about good choices.

And may I continue to make them! I'm only 2.4 pounds from my halfway weight. I had hoped to be at my halfway weight before this trip, but ... I guess I'll take it! :)

Home again, home again ...

2007-07-17T22:02:00.000-07:00

Flight was a little delayed but otherwise painless. Delay was actually the order of the evening - luggage was delayed, shuttle to the parking lot was delayed ... yadda yadda. But still, fine. Home. Played with a really happy dog. (Not that he doesn't love his Aunt Patty!)

Back into the grove.

Anyway, as promised, here are some photos of the trip.

Dick and Alexis

Giant Swans!

The kids at the zoo.

The kids eating Chinese food. They know how to use chopsticks. I don't.

Answer: about 8 hours

2007-07-17T08:11:00.001-07:00

Nope, the question is NOT "how much longer before you're in your own comfy home again?" Although that's certainly close to an accurate number.

No, the question is: "how many hours can you put into a project at your parents' insistence before they change their minds and say they'll just do it themselves?"

Wheee. :)

Family joy.

2007-07-16T20:16:00.000-07:00

When I started this blog in my head, I was going to say something pithy about how family was such a delight, and then admit I meant that about 50% genuinely and 50% tongue firmly planted in cheek. As time has worn on this week, that number altered to about 5% genuine and 95% ... not. The number has bounced back up again a bit but ... oy. And not even MY family - by blood - my in laws.

This week has been so completely out of my hands, it's been ridiculous. Vanished were any ideas I had of what I wanted to do, or when I might hit the gym, or ... or ... anything.

Anyway. Hi. I haven't been able to blog for a bit - it was easier at Bill's place, as he had a spare laptop in the living room, and a wireless connection (and not to mention being awakened at the crack of dawn, and needing to keep myself occupied). Not so back in Philly - not only is there one computer (and I'm grateful for it no longer being dial-up!), it's in the room that the kids sleep in when they're here - meaning completely inaccessible after 8pm.

Good fun. So ... when last I left you, we were on our last day in New York (boo). We headed down to the village to meet Dick's friend, Hope; lucky for us she had just moved to town from Boston. Like, just moved. The week before. So, cool! That was fun; it was good to see her. Then back up to Bill's neighborhood for a quick trip through one of my favorite stores; nothing worth even trying on. Boo.

And then the train home. Bill had hoped we'd make the drive with him, but for a variety of reasons - not to mention wanting a little peace and quiet for Dick and I to work on our respective scripts (as opposed to being in the car with the kids for two hours) - we opted for the train.

And home again, home again in Philly. That night was supposed to be Dick's birthday dinner - only his mother was having trouble getting it together for that day - so it was more like ... Dick's presents, with dinner to follow on Saturday. (Heck, he and I celebrated it a week prior. He really knows how to stretch it out ...)

Saturday was when things started sliding a bit - or at least seemed to start. The family was going to the fireman's museum, and then to lunch. We were asked to go - I think it was HOPED that we would go - and all I could think was ... we're EXHAUSTED. We've been getting only a handful of hours of sleep on a sofa bed, hey, let's sleep in and see how we feel. I slept in, anyway. Til 11:00. Joyous. Right about then, my niece was melting down because she really really really didn't want to go to that museum ... gratefully, we were excused from the excursion, which was good, as it'd be a while before we were ready to leave.

Instead, Dick and I drove up to New Hope, where I'd never been, which was lovely. Hot, of course, but lovely. We walked around, and watched people, and did some shopping - there were a number of Indian clothing shops and I just wanted to take home the store! But I settled on one skirt. I'm not big into buying clothes right now, but I figured a "one size fits all" skirt was a reasonable investment, even with the weight loss. (It's a fabulous skirt. I wore it today, actually.)

Dick's birthday dinner was lovely; it was something German that I can't pronounce or spell, so I'll refrain. And dessert was what will from now on be called "Renate's Chocolate Cherry Mistake," because something went wrong in the baking of the cake - but it turned out not only excellent (from my perspective) but BETTER (from the perspective of those who had had it before).

I think it was on Sunday when the family unit at large started melting down a bit. I won't go into detail. So it goes. After it all melted down on Monday morning, it all worked itself back out again. Everything's hunky dory, everybody loves everybody, and it's all good ... you know, til next time. (Just to make it clear that this is not a criticism: When my mother was alive, she and I had a MAXIMUM "under one roof" time of four hours. Two hours was when things started getting tense. Four was the point at which the fighting started and it was time for the visitor to go home. Seriously. You could set a watch by it.) :)

And tomorrow we leave. We'll be back home tomorrow evening, snuggling with our sweet Waldo. (Yes, I miss my dog. Sue me.)

I'll post pictures of the trip in a day or two. No real way for me to download and post as we go. C'est la vie.

It's been a good trip, though. No, seriously. Family drama is just a redundant phrase, isn't it? And when it comes right down to it, this is a family that actually ENJOYS family time ... so unlike mine. Family time for me, growing up, was something you would tolerate til it was over. It still is.

I love New York ...

2007-07-13T05:51:00.000-07:00

I just do.

Not ready to go back to Philly.

(Just as a side note - right now, as I type this, my husband is barking and my niece is meowing.)

Yesterday was a good day. Lovely weather (still a little sticky hot but compared to the day before, really can't complain). Walked around the neighborhood for a while, and then met Denizen/Cellmate Alexis for lunch. First time we'd met after years of online communities. She's incredibly cool, and we had a great time.

We then headed off to the TKTS line. We'd heard about this new "plays only" line, which I'd not only heard about from a friend, but read about on their website. Much shorter line - yay! Well, we just barely made it - right after we jumped into this ultra short line, they declared that there was no such thing as the plays only line and all lines sold all tickets. Not entirely sure what the point was, then, but we were glad we'd been able to hop into it.

From there, back to the apartment to cool off ... where, after having gotten up way too early in the morning, we both promptly fell asleep on the sofa.

Bill cooked a fabulous dinner ... majorly not on my diet, but it was yummy. We ran off to the theatre, where we saw Harriet Harris and Margaret Colin in OLD ACQUAINTENCE. The play was a little dated and left more questions than it answered, but the acting was fabulous.

Then back to the upper west side, where we sat down for coffee and dessert (ok, so figuring my diet was shot to hell for the day, I had a few bites ... yum.) And we just sat and watched the endless parade of people and their dogs, and just soaked it up. We acknowledged how much we wanted to live there some day, and at the same time, how if we did, we probably would never remember to take the time to sit and people watch ... or at least, we'd do it about as often as we go to the beach in LA. Life gets in the way. I know that.

But we started being very specific in telling the universe what we wanted, and how we wanted to accomplish it. An impromptu wish list. Wish list? Is that right? Maybe more ... list of goals. Short term. Long term. Out loud. For the universe to hear, clear as day. And if it was too vague, we'd narrow it down ... 'cause we wouldn't want the universe to come at us sideways, leaving us beaten, going "well, technically it IS what we asked for ..."

And the evening ended with us getting into the elevator with a woman walking a golden retriever-standard poodle mix ... a gorgeous, sweet, slightly goofy dog.

Now that's a good day.

Greetings from New York

2007-07-12T04:41:00.000-07:00

I know, you're thinking - doesn't she have better things to do in NYC than blog?

Answer: well, of course. But it's 7:40 am, you see, and I've been up for an hour and a half. Because when you're sleeping on the sofa bed of a smallish apartment that already houses a family of four, there's no sleeping past the time the first person gets up and starts making coffee. Which was around 6. And there's really very little we can do until the kids are off to camp and the adults are off to work - only then can we get the shower and stuff.

I'm not really grumbling. Well, I might be, a little, when I need a nap around 3pm. But really, I'm just so happy to be here in New York ... and grateful for the free bed ... that it's all good.

I love New York. When I'm away from itmy memory of how much I love it fades a bit ... then I get back and it takes mere seconds to be reminded.

Not that I object to the path my life took, heading west rather than east. Most importantly, meeting my husband in LA and all. :)

But I love it here. People walk. Restaurants are still going strong after 10pm. People out walking their dogs. I like the hustle and bustle.

Of course, staying with my brother in law and family affords us an opportunity to live in NY in a way that we could never actually afford to live in NY ourselves, if you get the idea. So I realize that the way Dick and I would have to live here would be drastically different and considerably less fun.

I can still be a little wistful.

Anyway ... we actually arrived in Philadelphia Tuesday evening. A five hour flight becomes an entire day lost to travel. A relatively sane 11:15 am flight means being at the airport at 9:15, which means being at the car park at 8:45, which means getting up really early. Then a three hour time difference puts us here at 7:30pm, and by the time his folks pick us up and we get home ... Day shot.

But I gotta tell you - those No-Jetlag pills really do work. I only ever took them when we went to London, but it occurred to me it might be great for even just a three hour difference. And sure enough, we were in bed before midnight (no matter that it was 9pm our time!) and up at 8:00. In the right time zone and everything. Crazy.

Anyway, we visited with his folks that evening, and over a leisurely breakfast in the morning. It was so freaking hot though ... I know I grew up with humidity and everything but ... ugh. No central air, just window units in each room. So you'd open the door to the hallway and this wall of wet heat would greet you. After a shower I kept feeling like I couldn't get dry.

Once we finally got it together, we headed off to Trenton to grab the train to NY. I like trains. Not something I get to do often.

Hopped on an express subway by accident once we got here which put us out about 10 blocks early - but rather than wait for the local, decided to just walk. Because we're in NY. And people walk. And it's nice.

Luckly, we arrived just an hour or so before the heavens opened up and a thunderstorm hit. Thunder and lightning. I miss thunder. But good thing we got inside when we did - because it actually flooded out the subway station we had just been at ... so we would have been royally screwed.

We got ourselves reacquainted with the kids (6 and 3), and enjoyed a little family chaos. Then off to Astoria for a Greek dinner (adults only).

And this morning, as I said, up way too early. Any minute now, the apartment will clear, and Dick and I will begin our day. Or maybe I'll nap again. All I know is, right now, the kids have both just melted down COMPLETELY. Isn't it early for that? :) Days like this I'm glad we only have Waldo to take care of. :)

Weight loss ads and other things

2007-07-03T00:12:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in the waiting room at Jenny Craig, looking at the ad with the slimmer Valerie Bertinelli proclaiming that she lost 18 pounds in 7 weeks! With an asterisk that says "results not typical".

No kidding.

I'm following the diet to the letter, I exercise like a madwoman, and so far I'm at 4-1/2 pounds in eight weeks (including a half-inch off my waist, a quarter-inch off my hips, and untold weight off my belly causing my jeans to nearly fall off).

Which is not to say that I'm complaining. And as has been pointed out to me, if I'd started this diet when I was needing to lose 20 pounds, the first 5-10 might have fallen off at a more rapid pace. But I didn't start until I was at my wit's end with this last 10 (which, by the time I started, had made its way back up to 13-1/2). And I have, truly, changed my relationship with food. So it's all good.

I think, more than anything, I'd be happier if I didn't have to go buy new jeans for this middle weight, but since it's going to be a longer journey than I'd anticipated ... I guess I'd better. Grumble, grumble.

Meanwhile, in other news, after living here for two and a half years, we're finally starting to do what I've wanted to do from the beginning - add some color to our all-white-all-the-time walls! We're starting small - the guest bathroom. It's small, no furniture has to be moved, and it's the only non-carpeted room that doesn't actually need the flooring replaced (rant for another time). We're doing Florida Mango for the walls and Carmelized Orange for the trim.

It's the little things. I'll post the before and after pictures when we're done.

Another week.

2007-06-13T21:45:00.001-07:00

Another pound. Of course, this means I'm exactly where I was two weeks ago ... but I'm trying not to look at it that way. No, really.

Meanwhile, I'm convinced my trainer is trying to kill me. I've told him as much. He laughs. And laughs. And says that means he's doing his job.

Grumble.

I'm frustrated.

2007-06-06T21:50:00.000-07:00

OK. So, I'm trying to Do Something Good.
For my family.
For my dad, as well as the little family here that is Dick, Waldo & me.

Totally a win-win proposition.

And ... while I hardly expected it to be easy ... I fully expected it to be possible!

I'm not giving up. But ... ugh.

It's D-Day.

2007-06-06T21:39:00.000-07:00

The June 6, 1944, WWII D-Day.

Which means ... Happy Anniversary, Marissa & Brian. (I'd put a picture up if I didn't think you'd kill me.)

:)

Dieting sucks.

2007-06-05T10:43:00.000-07:00

Gained a pound back. How depressing.

Unfortunately, not surprising. This is the weight at which I've been stuck for a long time. I've been heavier, and I can usually (even without the very regimented diet I'm on now) get to this weight ... and then bam, I'm stuck.

My metabolism needs a serious jump start.

The only saving grace is that I'm working with a trainer who swears - swears! - that the program he's setting me on will, in fact, kick my apathetic metabolism into gear.

It all still sucks.

To the networks ...

2007-05-29T21:58:00.000-07:00

Bouquets and brickbats. Thumbs up and thumbs down.

NBC: While I'm grateful for HEREOES and EARL, neither of those renewals was an actual surprise.
But. I am saddened at the loss of STUDIO 60 (that was one of those shows people seemed to either passionately love or hate, nothing in between). I really wanted to see where THE BLACK DONNELLYS was going. I admit it, I laughed a lot at ANDY BARKER, PI. (It was so brilliantly silly ...) I was really getting into RAINES. I think that's one that was just starting to find its voice, and really could have been something.

ABC: Like with NBC, most of my happiest renewals were hardly surprises, like LOST or DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES. I do thank you for my guilty pleasure, MEN IN TREES, and also for continuing NOTES FROM THE UNDERBELLY.
But. Don't get me wrong, there were no cancellations that were huge shocks, but it didn't make me any happier. I was totally wrapped up in WHAT ABOUT BRIAN. And I really did like SIX DEGREES, but even as a fan, when they finally brought it back - even I couldn't remember the various plotlines. I knew it didn't stand a chance. And oh, IN CASE OF EMERGENCY ... silly but sweet.

CBS: All happiness at CBS! First of all, thank you thank you thank you and once more THANK YOU for renewing THE UNIT. While the season ender could have easily been a series ender, I'm REALLY REALLY happy that it's not. I have to admit, that when it started (and my enthusiasm was somewhere around "well, I don't love it, but it is Mamet, and I'll give it a little time") I never would have predicted just how attached I'd get. I'm not sure whether it was ever in question, but THANK YOU for HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER. (Do you watch that? No? Start.) (I can't hear that Proclaimers song without thinking of that show now. If you watch it, you'll get it.)
I also thank you for renewing SHARK, which really rose above what should have been a paint-by-numbers snoozer. And thank you for OLD CHRISTINE, which I can't drink beverages while watching. The spit takes just come out of nowhere.

CW: Jury's still out on CW. Yes, GILMORE GIRLS is gone, but I feel that it lived a nice, long, happy life. EVERYBODY HATES CHRIS is returning, as is SUPERNATURAL (I love the brotherly relationship there). But the thorn in my side ... and, I suspect, the side of the CW ... VERONICA MARS. Technically, I suppose, cancelled? But hovering in this nebulous "well, maybe, maybe, we'll see, we'd have to reinvent it, let's see what Rob Thomas can come up with" phase. Believe me, I don't think it was perfect ... but it had snark. I respect snark.

Fox: 24 was a forgone conclusion, no? I'll certainly keep watching, but I'll also be OK when they retire it. How many times can Jack Bauer save the world, one hour at a time? ;) My big THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to Fox is BONES. Fox is notorious for killing off great shows before their time (WONDERFALLS) or ... well, let's not even get into FIREFLY. BONES nearly walked that same path. After a few episodes, it was missing for a while. A friend of mine who works on another Fox show told me in no uncertain terms it wasn't going to survive. But then it came back. And it made it to a second season, and now to a third! There's just something about a show that can make me both laugh and cry, and yet be so graphic I shouldn't watch over dinner.
But. I am saddened to see STANDOFF go. I think it had that same kind of potential.

I did mention I was a geek and totally addicted to television, right?

The blues.

2007-05-29T12:32:00.000-07:00

Or, as I like to call it, just sittin' around feelin' sorry for myself.

But, always a bit proactive in my wallowing, I've at least managed to pinpoint some key elements of why I'm feeling this way.

And, strangely, just had some of my nagging feelings put into words by a 12th grader.

I'm not sure whether that's reflective of his maturity level or mine ...

Another pound down.

2007-05-28T15:25:00.000-07:00

Yay!

Now I'm at the weight I can usually get to on my own. This is where I usually get stuck. So ... I guess this is where the real work begins. (Although I did get a few pounds lighter after last year's stomach flu from hell, but I really shouldn't count that.)

:)

My poor twitchy dog

2007-05-23T23:17:00.000-07:00

Our poor Waldo has a bad back.

We think it has a lot to do with his behavioral issues, actually. Who knew?

But the poor little guy. He gets these back spasms, and when it really gets going it just doesn't stop. His back twitches 24/7. He keeps spinning around trying to get the "thing" that's bugging him.

He's pretty good-natured about it, all things being equal. It wasn't til we took him to the vet last month that it seemed to dawn on him that something was wrong, and he whimpered and cried most of the night (and broke our hearts).

Drugs do the trick. Painkillers and a muscle relaxant - the doggie version of what Dick takes when his back goes out.

He just started twitching again, so he goes back on the drugs. Poor sweet Waldo. Twitchy.

Another day, another diet

2007-05-22T15:02:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know. Part two of San Francisco. I suck.

But I'm going to interrupt the flow of that story with this.

I'm doing an actual structured diet. Which I've certainly done in the past - somewhat structured - but after years of practice and failure, I've learned what works for my body and what doesn't. Armed with that knowledge, and the determination to actually DO it this time (my, I feel like a Nike ad) ... well, I feel pretty good about it.

Now. For people like my mother-in-law who thinks I don't need to lose weight ... or who are concerned that I'm being unduly influenced by Hollywood size 0's ...

The "healthy" weight for my height has a pretty wide range. I'm currently in the middle of it. At the wedding I was at the high end of it. But through most of my 20s I was at the low end of it and I see no reason not to get back there.

It's incredibly easy and it's really hard, all at the same time. Actually changing the way I eat has been remarkably easy. I'm kind of stunned, frankly. The hard part has been the work it takes - which is part of the reason I often get lulled into gaining weight in the first place. Inherent laziness. Ha ha. No, often it's just a genuine lack of time.

But I'm learning. And I'm actually changing my habits. You CAN teach an old dog new tricks! (woof!)

Now, here's a tip for anyone starting a major diet program. Don't establish a starting weight a full week before you start the diet. Especially when, during that week, you're out of town (hello, SF!) and choosing every meal with the thought "enjoy! next week, the diet!". Because then, after the first actual week on the plan, you may well end up having gained a pound from that starting weight. Oops.

But the good news ... week two was a loss of 2.2 pounds. (I'll spare the actual weight, lest I sound like Bridget Jones).

And no, I haven't mentioned which diet I'm on. And I won't for a bit. A few people know, so it's not like a *secret* ... but I feel like I want to give it another week or two before I share.

But my size 4 clothes are hanging in my closet, just waiting to make a comeback. :)

San Francisco, the first part of the story

2007-05-14T21:14:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's taken me a week to write about it. You see, SF was gorgeous and all in bloom ... and I was incredibly allergic! So the extreme allergic reaction turned into a nasty cold and today is the first day I feel like a person again. Yay!

So. We drove up taking the 5 ... and there was lots and lots of nothing. Hey, I'd never done it before, so ... OK. Now I have. Got in, checked in rather painlessly, and had dinner at the first restaurant we laid eyes on - which thankfully was a really yummy Thai restaurant.

Woke up Saturday morning and decided to take a walk and see what there was to see. It was an absolutely stunning day ... yeah. The weather was amazing.

One of the things that was so cool was discovering what a dog-friendly city it was - and seeing all the dogs romping about the beach (and some taking a dip!) There were puppies everywhere! I was in dog heaven.

Back to the hotel to get ready for the wedding. We were a little nervous, as traffic was perfectly horrid (that Oakland bridge ramp being out made for some interesting traffic) but I pointed out that the official shuttle from the main hotel to the wedding left around the same time as we did so they were stuck in the same traffic we were. (We didn't stay in the official hotel. We couldn't afford the official hotel. We stayed in a Travelodge for half the price.)

And sure enough, we got there before the official shuttle bus.

The wedding was out on Treasure Island, which also was lovely. There was a little chapel ... and it came with this organ player who clearly had no expertise in playing the organ. I kid you not. It was the kind of thing you'd see in a movie or a sitcom and say "Oh please, that never happens." We tried to figure out whether the regular guy got sick and this was the best replacement they could get, or this WAS the regular guy and no one cared. I can't really describe this with enough accuracy. Missed more notes than he hit. No sense of tempo at all.

But the bride walked down the aisle with a smile on her face, clearly undisturbed by it all. (We later learned she'd had a four-hour disaster in the hair salon, but you wouldn't have known it at that moment!)

Dick and I didn't exactly know a lot of people at the wedding. Like, outside the bride and her immediate family ... no one. Which left me a little apprehensive as we searched for our name cards at the assigned table.

Oh. Did I tell you how we even KNOW the bride? This would be a good time to mention it, as it came up quite a bit throughout the introductions at the table. "Do you know Kevin or Molly?" "Molly." "Cool. How do you know her?" "Well," says Dick, "I was her first boyfriend."

Blink. Blink. Blink. "Well. Um. That's really cool that ... " (Pause. Turn to look at me.) "And YOU are really cool!"

Well, I am. But honestly, Molly is pretty fabulous. I wish she lived in LA, 'cause I'd hang out with her more. And her parents are so lovely.

Anyway. The bride and groom have a sense of fun and whimsy ... so there were some fun original aspects to the reception. For example, there were a variety of postcards sitting out, all addressed to them, with a pail of markers. The idea was to write out a congratulatory note, and they'd be mailed out at different times during the next year.

Also, there was to be a photo competition. Each table was assigned a set of poses, and you'd have to figure out exactly how you were going to execute the assignment and go to the photographer's area. (Winners will be announced after they're back from the honeymoon). Our photos were: rude multicultural gestures; at least three men had to drop trou; and as one of the women at the table was pregnant, the assignment was to get as many faces around the belly as possible.

There was a couple across the table from us who we'd talked to throughout the night (as much as possible, across the table). Her dress and mine were actually very very similar - black with pastel flowers. We talked about that as we walked up to the photo area.

When we got to the part with the faces around the pregnant belly, everyone got down on the ground, lying on our backs, heads next to the belly, like flower petals, sort of.

So we're lying there, and I'm actually in between this couple. Well, the guy starts reaching over and trying to tickle me. I keep moving his hand away, thinking "what is this guy's deal?" (Bear in mind the music is blaring, and I keep thinking we're going to be done any second now.) He then reaches over and grabs my breast, at which point I grab his hand, hold it away from me, and think - "Ah. I know what the guy's deal is. He thinks I'm his wife."

At that moment, the photo session is over, we all sit up, and his face goes white. And then red. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I ... I thought you were my wife." "I figured as much," I said, as I headed away towards my husband.

It became a running joke throughout the night. He's Canadian, you see, and he can't help but apologize. Over and over and over. "Seriously," I tell him, "I grew up in theatre. I'm quite accustomed to inappropriate touching."

The next day I found out he had had a band in Canada in the 80s; Molly says he's underplaying it quite a bit, and that he was actually a one-hit wonder. (Thus my last post - "I was groped by a Canadian one-hit wonder.) ;) I'm still trying to hunt down the name of the of the band. I'll post when I get the scoop.

More later ...

I am allergic to San Francisco.

2007-05-06T22:13:00.000-07:00

I've been grateful for my Allegra and sneezing up a storm since I arrived.

Between all of the flowers in bloom, the dust or whatever is in this motel room, and my friend Jesse's cat ... I am done for.

Other than that, it's been really lovely. I have some stories and a few photos to share when I get home. (Foolishly, I left the ability to download pictures at home!)

The weather has been perfect, the wedding was amazingly fun, and I got to hang out with one of my best friends from high school. Oh, and I got groped by a Canadian one-hit-wonder.

Details to follow ... :)

Mardi Gras Wrap-Up

2007-04-28T13:08:00.000-07:00

Finally. The last leg of the trip. Assuming I can actually remember it ...

We had lunch at my favorite restaurant in the city (Mandina's), which had only JUST finally re-opened post-Katrina ... unfortunately, my favorite dish was a special not available that day, but of course everything there is fabulous. Yum.

From there, off to the Quarter, to poke around a little bit. Enjoyed the lovely day, the cool mask vendors set up all over the place, and of course got Eddie around the city.

Also took the opportunity to visit with Sheila at Margaritaville, which was lovely. :)

Then back across the river to lather, rinse, repeat and get back into the formal clothes.

I'd never been to the Orpheus Extravaganza. It was such a blast ... It was like prom for grownups. I mean, where else do you see people run around in tuxes and formal gowns carrying coolers and jumping around like mad to get beads?

It was great to see Bob; also I ran into a few friends, which was fabulous; and we saw Harry Connick Jr. play live, which ... sigh. Yeah. :) Oh, and it was really funny when a float went by, Michael started shouting to get the attention of a friend - and when I realized who it was, I started shouting for him - and when he saw me, he was so surprised, he dumped a whole lot of stuff on me plus a convenient carrying bag. I looked back at Michael and said "... oh. Sorry. I think I stole your thunder there." ;)

Afterwards, we went over to Dino's for one last time with the boys, and just enjoyed some quiet conversation til we just had to go (around 3:30 or 4:00 am). See, our flight was at 7am and we'd figured - why sleep?

When we got to the airport, we were so fried we were afraid we'd sleep through the announcement of our flight. And I gotta tell you, we were all just sitting there, vagulely comatose, and I said, "OK. I am officially TOO OLD for this."

The good news is that for the first leg of the flight - ridiculously to Atlanta first (!) - I was so exhausted that I fell asleep as we took off and I woke up in Atlanta. Anyone who's travelled with me knows I hate flying and I can almost never sleep on a plane. That ... was bliss.

Home again, home again. I'm still madly in love with my city. I hope it finds its way soon.

I'm Back!

2007-04-27T09:33:00.000-07:00

Ok everybody ... if there's anyone even still here, after a month+ absence ...

I'm back. I'm sorry I've been away. It's been one thing after another: getting sick, getting insanely busy, and having an intermittent internet connection. But I'm healthy, I've just closed my showcase and my internet is fixed at home.

So this is just a quick "howdy" (I'm at work, I have no business blogging right now) ... but just wanted to say I'm back, and I have a lot to say! Stay tuned!

And even more Mardi Gras

2007-03-17T14:48:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you're thinking - did this trip ever end?

Well, we're starting to wind down. After the big event on Saturday night, we slept in a bit on Sunday. After getting some mandatory beignets (mandatory, I tell you!) we headed uptown to take in a parade (or two, as it turned out).

It was an odd moment for me - after we parked, and were walking, I suddenly thought: here I am, walking with such confidence in the direction I think is towards St. Charles Avenue ... but what if it's not? I don't remember uptown streets that well anymore. I know the big ones, but suddenly, I'm not sure I know where I am. And in a town I grew up in and explored nearly every inch of ... that was a really strange moment.

Of course, I had been right, and we were headed towards St. Charles.

I hadn't been to an uptown parade in many years. I mean ... well over a decade. Maybe over 15 years. So I'll grant you, it's hard for me to offer a comparison.

Were there fewer people than what I remembered about an uptown parade on a beautiful day? Probably, yeah. And strangely, in spite of the unprecedented crime spree in New Orleans, I felt safer than I ever remember feeling.

But what I found perhaps most strange was the fact that people really set up camp on the neutral ground. In a way I'd never seen, ever. There weren't just ladders and chairs and picnics - there were tents. Areas roped off. There was even furniture. (Shelley couldn't resist the photo of this guy). So it was really hard to get up close TO the parade, because you felt like you were really walking through people's private parties - which is an odd (and frustrating) sensation on a public street.

Although I think I figured out WHY this phenomenon was occurring: The St. Charles streetcar still wasn't running, so no one had to move out of the way after a parade; and all of the midcity and uptown parades had been condensed to the one route, so people could camp out in one site and be set for a week or more.

I still think it's rude. :)

After two parades back to back, we grabbed some lunch and then headed back across the river. We rested a little before heading out again for dinner, where Dane and Michael caught up with us. And oh! I forgot to tell you - Dane got us tickets to the Orpheus Extravaganza for Monday night from the fabulous Bob Pavlovich ... meaning we get to get all dressed up again!!! :) So over a laid-back breakfast-for-dinner until they kicked us out of the restaurant, we all just had a wonderful evening, just ... being. I like that.

Still More Mardi Gras

2007-02-27T18:48:00.000-08:00

Let's see ... where were we.

On Saturday, we went off to the local PJ's (coffee shop) to get some good coffee and check our email. (This so-called wi-fi throughout the city? Not so much. But at most coffeeshops and restaurants ...)

We also got some superglue to fix Eddie, the gnome.

After we grabbed some late lunch/early dinner, I got a call from Michael: could we please go to the grocery store and pick up eight bottles of chianti, for the tables? Sure, no problem, I said.

Dick and I ran out and picked them up. We put them in the trunk, and as we started to drive off, I heard a "clink" in the trunk. I immediately stopped. "Should we put them in the backseat?" Well, we hemmed and hawed and finally Dick said, "I'm sure it'll be fine." I drove very very carefully the short distance back to the house.

The next thing we know, after having an entire lazy day, we were suddenly pressed for time to get ready for the big event. Not helping were the lack of mirrors in the house ... "Who's stage managing this thing?" Shelley quipped.

Finally, we were all dressed in our formal wear (and I have to say, it all travelled very well, without incident or wrinkles!) and headed out the door. We thought it might be worthwhile to at this point move the wine into the backseat just to avoid possible trouble ...

... too late. One bottle had bitten the dust. We now had seven bottles, and a trunk full of chianti.

So there we are, in our formal wear, trying to blot it all out with paper towel, trying desperately not to get the RED WINE on any of our clothes ... and mmmmmmmmm the car smelled really good after that! (ahem. not.)

Quick phone call to Dane: Which is more important? Us arriving with eight bottles of wine, or us arriving relatively on time?

On time.

A little bit like old home week inside the Alario Center - got to see Mary Lee Gibbons, Lara Grice, Kara Hadigan, Leon Contavesprie ... even Steven Marlborough!

The ball began, and everything I had ever been told was correct: gay balls are way more interesting than the straight ones. (Feel free to insert any joke there.)

Shelley made the comment that if we just swept up after the crystals that fell off costumes, we could fund our theatre for a year.

After the ball, we headed back to Dino's (where the Parking Easter Bunny did us proud and quite impossibly got us a space right in front of the bar!) and hung out there till we just couldn't any more.

Here we thought this was the big night of our trip: who knew, there was so much more still to come ...

More New Orleans

2007-02-26T22:53:00.000-08:00

Oh yeah, one thing I forgot to note from day one of the adventure - two celebrities on the plane. Taylor Hicks, of American Idol fame (the girls in the seats behind us insisted on singing to him from 20 rows back periodically thoughout the flight ... oh the joy) and Nancy Lenehan, who is one of those actresses whose face you always know but never the name. (As it was, we spent the entire flight trying to figure out something specific we'd seen her in this season, and standing collecting the luggage in New Orleans it finally hit me - MY NAME IS EARL.

OK. So we're up to day two. We sleep in a little bit, and are greeted by Michael's mom with coffee and King Cake. King Cake. If you don't know what that is, well, I feel sorry for you. :)

First thing - Shelley checks in on her luggage. Oh, they tell her, it's only gone on the truck as of 11:45 this morning. Well, we have to leave at 12:30 to meet my dad for lunch. By this time Michael's parents are both gone, and we finally leave a note for the delivery people to leave the luggage at the back of the house.

Off to Metairie, to meet my dad and my cousin Nichole at Bozo's. Now. My dad originally said Mandina's - which I was DYING to go to as they were finally re-opening after a year and a half - but we had big dinner plans that night and I didn't want to indulge quite that much. So I told him to pick somewhere else. He picked this place because I'd "be able to get something light".

Yeah. Well, only if your version of "light" is fried. All fried. All the time. I shouldn't have been surprised but ... ugh. I settled on a bowl of gumbo.

It was good to see Nichole. She's getting married next month ... she's only seven years younger than I am, but I still think of her as being so so young. LOL. She's great though; one of the few sane people to spring from my family. And seriously against all odds.

Home again, home again. And shock of shocks - no luggage! She calls ... they say it'll be another hour, there's only one person ahead of her. An hour later? They say it'll be several hours, and there were several people ahead of her. She complains, she argues ... none of it will make her luggage magically appear. I loan her clothes and makeup (thankfully I'm too lazy to hem my pants!) and off we go to the French Quarter, where Michael joins us at Court of Two Sisters where Erin cooked us a fabulous meal JUST FOR US. Her first ever tasting menu as a chef. it was spectacular. :)

We all went out afterwards ... we talked, we drank, we drank ... I don't think I've done shots in about six years. Oy!

Oh and the good news? Shelley's luggage appeared around 10pm that evening, after claiming they couldn't find the address ... and according to the Sullivans, they were pretty surly about it when they did arrive. The bad news? Eddie the Garden Gnome suffered an arm break. (More on Eddie later ... but just think about how hard luggage has to be thrown around to break something made of cement.)

Adventures in NOLA

2007-02-22T17:27:00.000-08:00

It all began on Thursday morning, as waiting in the various lines every step of the way proved the necessity of being there two hours ahead of flight time. But hey, less time to sit in the terminal.

A few hours later, we're in New Orleans. All is well and good until ... we discover Shelley's luggage has not joined us. Nothing to worry about, they say. They didn't LOSE it - they knew exactly where it was. Which was - on the next flight in. The nice lady said they'd even deliver it when it got in. OK. Not ideal, but ... fine.

We get the car and head out to scenic Algiers to the Sullivan residence (that's Michael's parents) where they greeted us with open arms. And dinner! Michael and Dane both came over as well, and we had a lovely meal.

Status check on Shelley's bags: Delta says "oh, well, the delivery service won't actually deliver after 10pm, so it'll be morning before we can send it." Again, not ideal, but fine.

The five of us packed into the little rental Hyundai (and just as a point of interest - this was a MUCH better car than that last thing I rented!) and headed across the river to Dino's for a drink or two.

As I wrote about last time we were here, it's always a little weird to try my old life back on for size. Seeing how it still fits pretty comfortably. Even with the addition of husband. And this time, even with the addition of Shelley. It still all fits, all works, and feels like the five of us have been through the 13+ years together. Is it the city? Is it the alcohol? Is it the fact that I tend to gravitate towards the same types of people, so that they fit together nicely as well?

Mardi Gras 2007

2007-02-20T21:33:00.000-08:00

OK, so really that's a bit of a tease post. 'Cause right now, it's 9:30 pm on Tuesday and aside from the two hours (not together) I got on the flight home, I haven't slept since Sunday night. I'm lucky I can string a few sentences together in the first place!

I will however provide you with one photo in honor of Her Majesty Queen Armenius 2007 (flanked by Shelley and me).

And just as a point of interest. Should this ever come up for anyone else. If you've got a rental car, and you should accidentally spill an entire bottle of red wine in the trunk ... well, just know that all is not lost. After soaking up as much as possible, and dousing it over a period of several days with about half a bottle of Febreeze, and airing it out for an hour or so ... well, yes, there's still a scent - but by this point, it smells like a pleasant grape air freshener.

Seriously.

I am remiss.

2007-02-14T22:49:00.000-08:00

I have neglected the blog.

I have been so insanely busy that I'm often lucky to get my name right.

There will be lots to report ... soon.

Leaving for New Orleans in the morning (ask me if I've packed yet! Ha ha ha ha ha!) ... I don't think I'll be bringing the computer this trip, so odds are good I'll have to wait til I get home to post about my adventures.

And it's Mardi Gras, so I anticipate adventures.

:)

Fables for Friends

2007-01-29T22:52:00.000-08:00

...in Mark O'Donnell's

FABLES FOR FRIENDS

Directed by Frayne Rosanoff & Stage Managed by Sonyia Joiner

An hilariously intense dramedy of vignettes that explores friendships at different stages in life!

With (alphabetically)...Shawn Barber, Maria de Brigard, Tracy Eliott,

Danny Feigelson, Micah Laine, Melissa Landry, & Matthew Stiller

*FREE ADMISSION for Agents, Managers, & Casting Directors

*(must present business card at the door)

General Admission: $12

8:00 PM

Thursday, February 1, 2007

Friday, February 2, 2007

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Sunday, February 11, 2007

The Underground Theater

1312 N. Wilton Place

Hollywood, CA 90028

(between Sunset & Fountain)

(323) 467-0036

plenty of safe street parking

Looking at 2007

2007-01-23T11:53:00.000-08:00

Geez. It's the 23rd of January and I'm finally only now sitting down to reflect on what I want out of 2007.

Is that a good or bad sign?

We had a wonderful, quiet New Year's Eve, just the way we like it. Went out for a really (really!) nice dinner, compliments of Dick's brother. Watched movies. Watched the ball drop. Toasted the new year.

On our eternal quest for luck and prosperity in the new year, we had black-eyed peas and greens (OK, I made spinach - but that's green, right?) ... oh, and in the morning, doughnuts, which is a Dutch New Year's Day tradition for luck. Why not?

Prosperity. Money. While I would love to be enjoying a little luxury, for right now, for this year, I would be really happy with being debt-free and not have one single moment where I panic about the mortgage. I would also love to be able to go out to dinner with friends, and buy tickets to events ... Heck, that would be luxury, for us right now.

That's Dick's focus right now. Bringing more money in. And so far, may I say, so good. Go get 'em, honey. :)

Mine is to actually work on being an actor again. I know for many reading this that sounds odd; but I mean seriously working on it. That means new headshots and quest for an agent or manager and auditioning regularly and classes.

To that end, I joined a second theatre company. (I realize that sounds counter-productive, but keep reading.) With this company, there are no volunteer time requirements. With this company, there are classes, workshops, and showcases.

I'm doing my first showcase in just over a week! I'm working my ass off, and loving it. (It's a full play.)

So I guess as far as my focus goes ... that too is "so far so good".

I've got a good feeling.

RIP Sandi.

2007-01-10T21:43:00.000-08:00

The first one of the new year. At least for me, personally.

Sandi Broussard. What a lovely, lovely ... tough-as-nails ... lovely woman.

We were partners, briefly, in Masquerade Productions ... for maybe half a year. Her, Jacques, Michael and me.

The phrase "the whole shooting match" always makes me think of her.

She had the fattest cat I've ever seen. Seriously.

She had a great smile. I searched my albums for photos - and I'm sure it's telling that this is the only photo I could find where she's actually LOOKING at the camera. (I have some great ones of the birthday party we forced on her, at Moochie's, and she kept threatening not to show up, but I had baked her a cake so ... she showed.) :) She's all smiles ... but the shots are either of her blowing out the candles, or looking across the room at other people ...

I really thought she could beat anything she put her mind to.

Breast cancer takes another one.

RIP.

Remembering 2006

2007-01-01T17:25:00.000-08:00

It's only looking back over the year as a whole that I realize ... I was in a (mild) depression for eight months of the year. Eight out of 12. I can be so specific because I remember the precise point I came out of it, just after Labor Day. When suddenly the world was in technicolor again.

Katrina sucked. And much of the spring and summer was always colored with my trying to come to grips with it. Having faith. Losing hope. Watching what my friends and family were going through. Spending 10 days in the middle of it.

It took a lot of time to process and learn to let go. I can only do what I can do ... I can't fix it.

That all said ... there are a few things, good and bad, I reflect on about 2006.

** Too many young people dying. It took me a long time to try and process Charlyn's death. And to let go of the anger - not just of the general unfairness of it - but of everything she had to go through above and beyond because of - say it with me now - Katrina.

** Focus on what's important. There aren't enough hours in the day for me to do everything I'd like to; therefore, I have to pick out the ones that are the most important. More time with my husband (and dog) are at the top of the list. I've also decided to actually try and pursue acting again (waiver theatre doesn't count - that's there to feed my soul, not advance my career).

** I have gained a deep appreciation of BBC-America, though their refusal to air beyond a second season of nearly any current show is mind-boggling to me. So I have gained an even deeper appreciation of Amazon UK and a region-free DVD player.

** New actresses I admire. I've always liked Mary Louise Parker. I really fell in love with her work in ANGELS IN AMERICA. I'd read it, I'd seen it, and I never ever understood the character of the wife. I just didn't get it. I watched her for one scene and a giant light bulb went off. She really is brilliant, isn't she? Then we got Showtime and I started watching WEEDS. If you don't watch it, start. There's one scene - in season one, I think - where she's at a ridiculously long light known as "the punishment light" - and she doesn't say a word, but a million thoughts and emotions race through her head as she sits - alone - at this light for an unbearably long time. Wow.
My new favorite comedic actress is Tamsin Greig. (see my joy of BBC comedies, above) GREEN WING, LOVE SOUP, BLACK BOOKS. Her timing is brilliant. Can I be her when I grow up?

** The joys of EBay. I'm super poor, but I've learned to get some amazing deals - and I learned that I can get great clothes and shoes! I love spending almost no money on good clothes (rather than almost no money on seriously cheap clothes, which is what I normally do). (I also got my new computer from ebay, as well as some great software deals). Happy, happy girl. It ties my love of bargains to the thrill of the hunt (I won! I won!) ;)

** Trading in a worship of the Parking Gods for the Easter Bunny. That's gotten me street parking in Hollywood more times than I can count, not to mention FREE PARKING in a lot the night of Hollywood Happy Hour!

** Starting to get into shape - losing 10 pounds! Yay!

** Changes at work. Mostly good. Some just weird. Still I could not ask for a happier, healthier work environment. Or a better boss.

** Supporting my husband with his new business.

I'm very proud!!!

For all of the sadness in 2006 ... there was some good stuff too. But I'm pretty ready for 2007.

New Traditions

2006-12-26T12:01:00.000-08:00

I posted earlier about my family Christmas traditions (zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz) and my favorite missed Christmas traditions (with Michael) ...

And now on to my new Christmas traditions.

My first Christmas in LA doesn't count; I actually went home. It was the first "holiday season" without my mom and I went home for Thanksgiving AND Christmas in an effort to try and make things "normal" for him. Well, all of you who have lost a family member know: there is no "normal". Nothing will ever be the same. You can only go forward and create a new normal.

Lesson learned.

In 2001, my dad opted to come to me for the holidays. I think he figured out the whole lack of normal thing too (God forbid we should talk about it) and he wanted something different, too.

We figured it would just be Dick, my dad and me, so we were trying to figure out which restaurants might be open on Christmas day for a good meal. I posted this question on Wolfesden (precursor to the Celluloid Curtain). In addition to the suggestions, I got a query from my pal Eric: "Could I join you?"

One thing led to another, and we suddenly had a large enough group that we decided to skip the restaurant, and do a potluck Christmas. Bon and Keith were housesitting, so we all gathered there. Keith made the turkey; everybody else brought stuff. In addition to my dad, Dick, Bonnie, Keith and me, there was Barry and Fabiana, and Rose, and Wayne ... who else was there that first year? Was that it?

It was wonderful. It was the best way to spend the day.

My father even said - no kidding - that it was much more fun than our family Christmases past.

So ... the next year he said, "We're doing the same thing, right?"

Well of course!

I hosted at my place on Palms, with Keith and Bon coming over early so Keith could make the turkey. It was the same cast of characters, with the addition of baby John Angelo Carver; also Shelley joined us for the first time. And surprise of surprises for me - my pal Jesse from high school turned up on my front door! (He had said he'd be in town for the holiday, and I told him to let me know if he could make it ... and I didn't hear from him til I opened my door and shrieked with delight!) And Kyle joined us that year too. Pictures are here.

As a side note ... you know those friendships that go back so far and so deep ... that years can go by, and then you see each other, and it's like no time has passed? ... yeah. That's Jess.

2003, Dick and I were living together, and we hosted at our place on Federal. Keith was away with family that year, so Dick made his first turkey ever. This was the first year Karen joined us as well. And Eitan dropped by for a while. You can see photos here.

2004, Dick and I had just moved into the condo, so there was no way we could host amongst the boxes. Shelley took over hosting duties, with us going over early so Dick could cook the turkey. It was a huge shindig that year - I couldn't even begin to name the people! And plus we were so fried from moving that it was all a blur to me. Pictures are here.

2005, we hosted our first married Christmas here at the condo. This was, sadly, the fisrt year my dad passed on the event; having come out here in August for the wedding, he was all travelled out for the year. We put up a photo of him on the piano, so he'd be with us in spirit.

And here we are, 2006. I cannot tell you how much I love that we do this. I don't see these people as often as I'd like, but I love knowing I can count on this. Here are a few photos from this year:

I love my friends.

Happy Holidays, y'all. :)

PS - a shout out to Bon, who has all of the photos except 2005 on her website. I only graduated to digital recently, so my photos are in a box. Yay Bon, for being so wonderfully organized!!!!!!

Too cute not to post

2006-12-19T15:39:00.000-08:00

We have many oodles of photos of our dog. Yes, we've become Those People.

But this is too cute not to share. He recently went to the groomer's, and went from this (taken a month or two ago - our little fuzz face napping in the sun):

To this:

Yes, they put a Christmas bandana on him.

When he was first rescued from wherever he was rescued from (I'm unclear as to whether it was the pound, or the family that mistreated him), he was brought to a groomer who declared him "evil".

Knowing what I know about him now - let's just say he has "personal space issues" - I can certainly see how that might have been the judgement made.

That said, this past summer we did have to take him to be groomed, and we looked high and low for the best place to take him. We found a place where the owner is, we were told, especially good with rescue dogs with issues.

We were not disappointed! Twice we've gone now, and not once employee has a scratch on them. ;)

And isn't he a handsome devil?

Christmas rituals

2006-12-11T21:36:00.000-08:00

I never had a particularly spectacular family Christmas. We certainly had our rituals ... but they weren't particularly ... fun.

It was a two-day affair. First, we'd all gather at my aunt's on Christmas Eve. There would be many cocktails, cocktail party chatter, and the opening of presents.

On Christmas Day, we'd go back. More idle conversation, followed by dinner, followed by more idle conversation.

You have to understand: my family are generally not talkers. The ones who drink tend to get a bit loud and talky after a while ... but the rest of the time ... strained silence.

Of course there was the year that we passed the phone around to say "Merry Christmas" to my cousin who was in jail ... ah the memories.

I am, as many of you know, an only child. My parents had me late in life. As a result, in my immediate family, there is no one my age. My dad's sister had kids 15 years before me; one of them had kids 7 years after me. I had no one to talk to.

When I was around 15, my cousin (the one with the kids) started realizing I was finally old enough to talk to, and we started developing an actual relationship. We'd go in the back bedroom and just hang out and talk, which thrilled my mother no end (because she knew I was acutely bored) but my aunt actually got angry and would make us come back and join the silence in the front room. Wheee.

As an adult, I started breaking away from the two-day marathon. My time spent at Christmas Eve got shorter and shorter, until I ditched it altogether. And this was my new Christmas Eve ritual:

I'd go over to Michael's house, and we'd trade presents. We'd hang out there maybe 10-15 minutes, because he had three cats at the time, and with my allergies, that was about all I could handle.

From there, we'd go to Sandy's party, which she threw every year. It was a huge event, with enough food for an army. Occasionally, we'd actually know someone besides Sandy who was there. The running joke, every year, was that she'd greet us with: "Hi!!!! Oh, you know who you just missed ... ?"

We'd eat, we'd drink, we'd visit with whoever we DID get to see.

From there, we'd head over to our favorite bar.

We'd pull up barstools, and the bartender would serve us our drinks without our even needing to order. Usually, our pal Marc would be there too - of course that was always a safe bet, there. And the three of us would sit there, looking back on the year, and trading sob stories about just how pathetic we were that we were sitting around that bar on Christmas Eve.

It was always a good night.

And I was always in a much better frame of mind to deal with the family in silence the next day. (Of course, over the years and past a certain age, I learned that wine with the dinner also helped immeasurably). :)

I certainly enjoy all of my traditions in LA ... and of course love holidays with my husband. But those times I get a little nostalgic about New Orleans - Christmas Eve is on the top of my list.

Thank you, Gas Company.

2006-12-06T20:59:00.000-08:00

For a situation so absurd I could do nothing but burst into laughter.

We've been living here for two years. Some of the utilities are in my name, some in Dick's. For two years, we've paid our bills on time.

Suddenly, I get a notice in the mail from the Gas Company, that essentially says:
"Hi there! We were checking the meters, and see that you've been using gas. However, we have no account for you. Please set one up as soon as possible to avoid disruption in service."

No account? What's that thing we've been paying for two years?

My dear husband offers to call on Monday to say "what's up?"

Imagine his surprise when their explanation is that ... according to their records, I am deceased.

And they were pretty sure about it too. Said that kind of information has to go through several people. And that they had called to verify it.

He called me at work to inform me of this fact. This is when I burst into hysterical laughter. As did my boss, when I told her.

I will skip the boring middle bits, where he had to keep going up the chain of command at the Gas Company, insisting that someone produce this alleged death certificate. And finally! The answer.

When I sent in a change of name form, along with a copy of my marriage license, someone somewhere got confused and decided it was a death certificate.

Never mind that I sent in a clear, concise form explaining the name change. Never mind that there are TWO names on the marriage license - the first of which is not mine.

Nope. They declared me dead.

Our utility company at work!

It was a good run.

2006-11-14T09:43:00.000-08:00

Three episodes. Then we got voted off the island. ;)

You can read about it (and see a few photos) here.

This was such a joy to work on. And I think we're all ready to band together for another!

A random conversation

2006-11-11T10:45:00.000-08:00

Our heroes are driving around Glendale, minutes to spare before 8pm curtain.

"We'd better start davening to the Parking Gods right about now."

"Or the Easter Bunny."

"The Easter Bunny."

"Yes."

"Not really his time of year, is it? Although ... I guess it IS his off season. Maybe he does this on the side."

"Exactly. What else has he got to do right about now?"

"Well, he probably has to start getting ready. There are eggs to decorate. Lots and lots of eggs."

"Oh please. You can't tell me that at this point in his career he touches an egg any more. He has bunnies for that."

"Bunny PA's."

"Yes. So really, I think he has some time on his hands to help us with this whole parking thing."

They Liked Us (Again)!

2006-11-07T00:17:00.000-08:00

We're back for Episode 3 on Saturday night at 11pm. Come join us!

Getting My Act Together ...

2006-11-05T12:59:00.000-08:00

... just not taking it on the road. :)

No, seriously. Last night I heard someone make a comment about being a certain age and not having his shit together. I pointed out that I was several years older and didn't have mine together yet either.

Just a little light-hearted exchange, but it really got me thinking.

At the start of the school year (hey, I work at a school, it's my benchmark for everything), I made a point of stating that I needed some change, and outlined the things I was going to do this fall to work towards this change.

Now, I don't set myself huge lofty goals. I generally try to give myself incredibly attainable goals, so I can cheer and move on to the next one.

And yet somehow ... now it's November, and I've hardly touched on those things. Almost any of them.

Sometimes circumstances get in the way; out of the eight weeks since that declaration, I've been sick at least a full three. (Not consecutively, but still pretty ridiculous.) That interferes with my goals of hitting the gym and other exercise classes, and interferes with my goals of getting the backlog of Ark work that's sitting on my dining room table. The lack of exercise interferes with my goals of continuing weight loss and general health. The lack of getting Ark work sorted out interferes with my ability to have time to begin to tackle the other things on my list.

So now I'm sitting here, deeming myself a failure because I haven't managed to do any of this in eight weeks ... at least not enough of it ... and I'm wondering, really, WHY. Am I just getting in my own way? And if so, how, and how can I stop it?

One goal I did manage to achieve: I kept putting it out to the universe that I really wanted and needed to work on a project where I was JUST AN ACTRESS. And that I really wanted and needed to get out and work at different theatres, with different people. And it came to me. And I'm loving being out of my comfort zone. I'm loving working with new and wonderful people. And I'm loving just showing up ... and acting.

Now ... I just need to tackle the rest. And figure out why I'm in my own way.

They Liked Us!

2006-11-01T20:41:00.000-08:00

They really really liked us!

We're back for Episode 2, 11pm @ Sacred Fools. Be there!

A good audition ...

2006-10-24T22:20:00.000-07:00

I mean, a SERIOUSLY kick-ass audition, almost - almost - makes the job itself irrelevant.

When I first moved to LA, I was really into auditioning. Just the experience of each audition. Preparation, and execution, and learning as I go. I soaked it all up like a sponge.

Then for a while I embraced the "consider each audition your performance" concept (which I still like, a lot). (As a side note, I was discussing this with friends once, and the dancer in the group said, "Oh yeah, I like to think of each audition as a free dance class.")

And then I got tired. And jaded. And frustrated.

And I took time "off" for a while. Time spent planning the wedding. Then having the wedding. Honeymoon. Hometown disaster. Oh, and that pesky weight problem.

Finally, I'm ready ... slowly ... to dip a toe back into the waters.

So it's nice, really early back into this process, to really feel so GOOD about one. It's really nice to make everyone in the room laugh - repeatedly - and even the second time around. It's really nice to be told how funny you are, point blank, by the director. It's really nice to be told, "I'm looking for these three things, and you NAILED the first two, so let's try it again and get that third one too."

It felt good to remember ... that yeah. I CAN do this.

The odds of my getting cast are astronomical. And I'm OK with that. Because in this cae, I know that I did my best. And that's all I can do. The rest is up to them.

A Change of Scenery

2006-10-23T22:44:00.000-07:00

Five stories.
Five cliffhangers.
Only three can continue.
YOU decide.

Each week, three continuing stories face off against two new tales.

At the end of the show, you vote for the three stories that you would like to see continue on to next Saturday night, where their subsequent episodes will then be pitted against two completely new storylines.

Each week's serials could live on for weeks... or be quietly smothered in their sleep – it's up to you. But whichever pieces you vote for, one thing is for certain - by the end of the evening, you will be a Serial killer.

On Saturday night, October 28th 11:00 PM

"Inside Pieanoxity"- Episode 1

"Inside Pieanoxity" ..Is it a cult, a faith or just a great place to eat pie? Investivative reporter Nick Atherton is about to find out, as he goes undercover to search for his missing brother (and maybe second cousin too).Will he break the secret world of Pieanoxity wide open, or himself become part of the group that "Together, has but one mind between them"?

Directed by JJ Mayes

Written by Steven Korbar

And featuring:

Jeremy Aldridge
Charlie Bates
Tracy Eliott
Daryl Hogue
Jennifer Ruckman
Annie Vest
Patrick Vest
Joseph Woods

Come vote for us...or we'll hate you forever!!

Tickets are only $5.00, but there are no reservations and

it's first come, first serve; so try to be there at least fifteen minutes early!

660 N. Heliotrope Dr. - Los Angeles, CA 90004

Heliotrope is between Normandie and Vermont, and the
theater is located less than 1/2 block south of Melrose.
Use the Normandie/Melrose exit on the 101.

When living in LA is cool

2006-10-14T10:14:00.000-07:00

Last night, Dick and I went to this benefit that was put together by his boss. She's a philanthropist, so there are three events each year that she throws that we get to go to, plus there are occasionally others she buys tickets to and gives to us.

It's always fun to pretend we're people who can afford to go to these things.

Two of the events each years that his boss puts together are by and for the Professional Dancers Society, so at both the Fall Ball and the spring luncheon, someone is being honored for their accomplishments in dance.

Some years are more interesting than others.

The evening started out not boding well. First the heavens opened up and started flooding our neighborhood, so that the only way to get to our car was to wade. In heels, this was not a happy experience. Of course, with this kind of rain, traffic blew.

We arrive to find out that we're the only table not being given wine (I think they just forgot?); the rolls brought out are actually *stale*, and then the meal that follows wasn't a whole lot better than the Lean Cuisine meals I buy for lunch.

But then ... it all turned.

The show opened with Mitzi Gaynor, the president of PDS, and if you've never watched her in front of a live audience, she is a hoot. Her speech was short and sweet, and then they did the requisite video footage of dance films through the year.

Then there was the requsite comedian. This year, Max Alexander. Only .. this year ... the comedian was actually FUNNY. Seriously funny. Laughing so hard I could hardly breathe funny. (Trust me, at these events, if they make you smile, it's a good night.)

This year's honoree was Joe Tremaine, a man I admit I knew little about but instantly felt a kinship to when I found out he was born in Louisiana. As a tribute, some of his faculty, students & past students put together a performance, which was absolutely positively mind-blowing. These dancers were awe-inspiring. (I leaned over to Dick and said, "Can we get them to perform every year?") This was, hands-down, the best entertainment at one of these events, ever.

To introduce Joe was Chita Rivera. She is so lovely, and gracious, and funny ... it was definitely one of the best introduction speeches. (Last year's introduction speech given by this woman here went on for days, I think. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.)

Joe gets up, and proceeds to give the best acceptance speech ever, as well.

It's all fun, everyone's having a great time, and we leave thinking "gosh, is it over already?" (Last year we were at the table thinking "Dear God, we're never leaving, are we ...")

But wait. Now we're REALLY getting to the cool part.

We're in line to get our car. Ahead of us is a Deluise. We can't remember which one. I mean, we know which one - he's the one on GILMORE GIRLS - but we can't remember his name. (His parents are big fans of dance and supporters of the PDS - actually Dom was honored one year, which was a hoot.)

We get close to the window to turn in our tickets. And I missed exactly what happened, but he started looking kind of perplexed about the system (which, to be fair, at an event of several hundred people all trying to leave at one time is almost always a little chaotic). Finally he turns, he happens to catch my eye, and says, "You'd think I've done this before." I started laughing, and he continues, "I think we need a choreographer." I laugh more.

He extends his hand. "Hi, I'm Michael," he says.
"I'm Tracy," I say, shaking his hand.
"So did you have a good time tonight?"
"I did. It was fabulous."
"Yes, it was."
"It makes me wish I could dance."
"Me, too."
"Whatcha gonna do?"
"Sit in the audience and clap a lot."
"Good solution. I like it."

... and then his keys were given to him, and off he went in search of his car.

But my mind was totally blown, because even though I've been near met celebs of various levels, this was the first time that someone has just decided to introduce themselves to me, in a very genuine way.

Michael Deluise. Very cool.

Silly Quiz Time

2006-10-05T20:50:00.000-07:00

Stolen from Sterling, and I think Bon after that.

Q: WHAT MADE YOU SMILE YESTERDAY?
A: My husband. And my dog. And my dinner date. Not necessarily in that order.

Q: WHAT WERE YOU DOING AT 8 THIS MORNING?
A: Trying to get ready to leave for work. Not succeeding.

Q: WHAT WERE YOU DOING 15 MINUTES AGO?
A: Surfing the net.

Q: SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED TO YOU IN 1995?
A: Huh. 1995. I was partners with one of my best friends in a theatre company. Thus starting a long, rich history of running tiny, scrambling-for-money theatre companies.

Q: HOW MANY THINGS DID YOU DRINK TODAY?
A: Morning coffee. Water. More water. Still more water.

Q: WHERE DO YOU KEEP YOUR CHANGE?
A: Supposedly in my wallet. It usually, somehow, ends up in the bottom of my purse.

Q: BEST ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
A: That really depends on my mood. Usually, though, chocolate chip cookie dough.

Q: SOMETHING YOU ARE EXCITED ABOUT?
A: That depends on my mood too, LOL. You know, I am my father's child. There are many things I feel quiet joy about, but *excitement* ... I'll let you know.

Q: WHAT SIZE SHOE DO YOU WEAR?
A: 6.

Q: DO YOU HAVE ANY SISTERS?
A: Nope.

Q: ARE YOU VERY RANDOM?
A: Not in my own mind, no. Perhaps to others. :)

Q: DO YOU WANT TO CUT YOUR HAIR?
A: Yes. But not length, just shape.

Q: ARE YOU OVER THE AGE OF 25?
A: Yes.

Q: DO YOU TALK A LOT?
A: Depends on how well I know you. Depends on my level of anxiety.

Q: DO YOU MAKE UP YOUR OWN WORDS?
A: Hell yeah.

Q: ARE YOU TICKLISH?
A: Yes.

Q: ARE YOU TYPICALLY A JEALOUS PERSON?
A: Yes but at my ripe old age I've learned to laugh at it.

Q: NAME A FRIEND WHOSE NAME STARTS WITH THE LETTER "J":
A: John Jack.

Q: WHAT DID THE LAST TEXT MESSAGE YOU RECEIVED SAY?:
A: I text message so infreqeuently, it's scrolled off my phone. I have no idea.

Q: DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS?
A: Not unless I'm really stressed.

Q: DO YOU HAVE CURLY HAIR?
A: No. Unless it's humid.

Q: WHAT IS THE NEXT CONCERT YOU'RE GOING TO?
A: Not a clue.

Q: WHO IS THE COOLEST PERSON IN YOUR LIFE?
A: Wow. I don't think I can answer that. Most of my friends are either excessively cool or cool in their uncoolness. I have awesome friends. But the coolest?

Q: WHAT IS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
A: Chocolate covered raisins. I meant for them to go to the theatre. But they're here. So I had some.

Q: WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU SAID TO SOMEONE, AND WHO WAS IT?
A: "I love you," to my husband.

Q: DO YOU WATCH TV?
A: That would be the understatement of the century.

Q: HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOVIE DONNIE DARKO?
A: Yes. Is there a follow up question, "Did you understand it?"

Q: DO YOU HAVE WORK TOMORROW?
A: Sigh. Yes.

Q: EVER BEEN HUNTING?
A: No.

Q: IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE?
A: No, it's in my present. :)

Q: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID "I LOVE YOU" AND MEANT IT?
A: See above. It was about two hours ago, or so.

Q: WHAT SHOULD YOU BE DOING RIGHT NOW?
A: Pretty much anything other than what I'm doing.

Q: DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME?
A: Yes. A few.

Q: DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT?
A: Not really. I believe in gut feelings at first sight. But love, no.

Q: YOUNGEST PERSON IN YOUR FAMILY?
A: My immediate family? Me.

Q: IS DRUG FREE THE WAY TO BE?
A: There are probably many interpretations to this, but given the amount of money I spend each year at the pharmacy, I probably HAVE to say "no".

More Chris Rose

2006-09-27T13:11:00.000-07:00

OK, so I know that the point of this blog is for ME to write.

But sometimes ... I just need to share Chris Rose. You'd think I know him, the way I pimp him out in this blog. But he just has this point of view that makes me laugh and cry all at the same time.

So go on over to the Times Picayune and read:
This one, about how there ought to be a "Survivor: New Orleans";
This one, an open letter to Joe Theismann prior to the Monday night game, which is a message to the world about the reality that is New Orleans (and there are a few paragraphs which say exactly what I've been trying to say, only ... better.)
And this one, about the Monday night Saints game.

Enjoy.

Anybody watching TV?

2006-09-24T21:24:00.000-07:00

Any thoughts on the new fall shows?

As a TV junkie with TiVo, I feel it is my duty to watch every new show at least once. Almost every new show. TiVo can only record two shows in the same time slot, so ... there are limits. :)

So far, the only thing I jaw-droppingly LOVE is STUDIO 60. As a huge Sorkin fan (recently re-watching the entirety of SPORTS NIGHT on DVD), I had certain expectations. And then of course concerns that my expectations were too high. But I thought it totally delivered. And the cast is, or course, brilliant.

I like STANDOFF. More than I thought I would, actually. Dick's the one who voted for a second episode, as I was kinda unsure. But I am into it; I think the leads are very likable, and the writing pretty good. And I think Gina Torres is effing brilliant at everything she does. In fact, she's the reason I tuned in to begin with.

Unfortunately, it's up in the same time slot where we already watch THE UNIT and VERONICA MARS. So I can only hope that one of them eventually moves. But in the meantime, it'll be our original two watched weekly, and catch STANDOFF whenever one of the others is off or in reruns.

I also like JUSTICE. Yeah, it's yet another law show, but it has a slightly different hook. Two, really. One is that you'll see exactly what DID happen at the end of each show; and the other, the tie-in to the tabloid court-tv style show. And really, Katherine LaNasa could run away with the show, and she's not even a series reg. Victor Garber is, as always, wonderful.

I like MEN IN TREES. I watch this one solo - mostly because Dick's trying to limit his TV addiction more than I do, not because he has an aversion to chick shows. ;) Is it stealing liberally from NORTHERN EXPOSURE? Sure. Am I hooked into it anyway? You betcha.

I passed on SMITH, TIL DEATH and HAPPY HOUR after one episode. In SMITH I just couldn't see why I should care about any of the major players, except the wife. TIL DEATH was by-the-book formulaic (yawn) and HAPPY HOUR, while not the ODD COUPLE rip-off I thought it was going to be based on the description, still didn't do anything for me. I did like the sidekick friend, as played by Beth Lacke, but it wasn't enough to make me tune back in.

I couldn't even get through an entire episode of VANISHED, KIDNAPPED, or THE CLASS. 'Nuff said on those.

Looking forward to the continuation of the season!

Mark Krasnoff, RIP

2006-09-21T12:15:00.000-07:00

Another New Orleans actor is no longer with us.

I never really knew Mark - though I certainly respected his work. But it really has to be a blow to the community this year.

My thoughts and prayers to his friends and family, and to the community as a whole.

I have been ngelectful.

2006-09-20T20:08:00.000-07:00

Of this blog.

I could claim "life", "busy", etc ... but the reality is, after the emotional rollercoaster that was New Orleans - and documented moment by moment on this blog - I think I just felt like I had nothing left to say. For a while.

I really was pretty depressed for a while upon returning home. But after the Labor Day weekend, which ended up being a five-day weekend for me, my head finally felt like it was screwed on straight. I don't know what exactly it was - maybe it was the sleep, or the time to myself to absolutely do nothing, or the four hour Spike Lee documentary (which I had to watch in three parts because I couldn't handle it all at once) ... but I finally felt the fog lift and my mind clear.

For the first time in like a year.

The clarity was amazing. I was a whole new person at work. Or at least, I was the person I was pre-Katrina.

Isn't that odd, to have SUCH a profound effect on my life for so long?

(Just as a side note: I found the documentary incredibly moving. I'm glad he made it. Do I think he had a political agenda? Sure. Did I think he left some things out? Absolutely. Did I marvel at the absence of, say, Harry Connick, Jr or Patricia Clarkson? You betcha. But people are angry and frustrated and it gave them a national voice. That's got to be a good thing.)

So. Moving on ...

How does one move on? I'm still wrestling with my friends scattering around the country. In fact, I'd argue that I've put it out of my head since I've been home.

My dad doesn't want to hear the word "Katrina" any more. I understand where he's coming from, but at the same time, he has to realize that it's the root of every complaint he has. His rent, for example, is going up $75/month. The man is on a fixed income, people. That's a HUGE increase. His option? Find a new apartment. Yeah. Good luck with that. Prices have gone so sky high that he has no CHOICE but to stay where he is.

But I can't help him. I can't fix it. What are his options? Moving here, where he cost of living is even worse? Moving to Detroit to be near his inlaws, where he'd freeze from October to April? Moving to a strange place, alone, in his 80s?

I always make it clear when people ask that my father's life was not destroyed in the hurricane. Unlike so many people, he was merely inconvenienced. And that holds, of course. But the inconvenience seems to grow a little more every year.

Anyway. I had committed to doing a blog NOT Katrina-related, and here I am, again.

So briefly, I'll touch on one other topic.

My pants.

I have a blog reader - and for all I know she's my only regular blog reader (ok, there are maybe five of you) - who has, the last several times she's seen me, asked me to PLEASE go back to blogging. "Write about anything," she said. "You could write about your pants, and I'd read it."

While I promised to keep her name out of it - THIS TIME - I said, just for her, I'd blog about my pants.

Not because I think I could make any topic interesting. Far from it. No, it's just that with my whole diet thing, I have a lot to say about pants.

Who, I'd like to know, came up with sizes?

NOTHING in my closet fits. Too big, too small, nothing is that perfect Goldilocks "just right".

The biggest pair of jeans have made their way to my top shelf, to (hopefully!) never be taken down again. But, ya know, I'm a woman so I'm going to keep them just in case. :) But the jeans I have in rotation ... they're all HUGE. I mean, it's great for being able to show off the weight loss ("see? These were tight on me a year ago!"), but I don't have a pair that actually FIT me yet. The gulf between sizes is apparently huge.

The good news is, I took down my size 4 courdoroys about a month ago and tried them on, just to see. Six months ago, I couldn't even get them on. Three months ago, I couldn't zip them. Now, I can actually put them on AND get them zipped. I doubt I could breathe for a long period of time, but I figure that's progress. I'm hoping to waer them this winter.

I have other size 4's on my shelf, waiting patiently to return to regular wear. Maybe this year?

Katrina, one year later

2006-08-29T11:41:00.000-07:00

A moment to remember.

Not that anyone born in the city is likely to forget.

A few articles for a little reading ..........

A Five Part series on conditions at Memorial Medical Center:

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
http://www.nola.com/search/index.ssf?/base/news-6/115640588150270.xml?NP1&coll=1

I promise to post about happier things ... eventually ... it's hard to let go.

I like the way Chris Rose calls it "The Thing".

All of the NO pictures ...

2006-08-09T00:13:00.000-07:00

are located here.

Enjoy.

If that's the right word.

Days 9 and 10

2006-08-07T20:04:00.000-07:00

The last two days.

Took me a while to get around to finishing this; I'm glad I did the rest of it "as I went" otherwise it'd never get done.

Day 9, Thursday. We got up and, after coffee, went to the NO Museum of Art. Aside from the usual stuff they had on display, they put together an amazing Katrina photo display. It was amazing. (Just as a side note, they still don't have phones there at NOMA. For entrance into the museum, they can't take credit cards; for the museum store, which obviously collects much higher sums of money, the woman who runs the store takes home the credit card machine every night and runs it from home. ONE YEAR LATER.)

Sigh.

Anyway, after that, we headed to the Quarter to finally get a meal at the Gumbo Shop. Love that place.

That evening, to the Shakespeare Festival at Tulane to see the first preview of ROMEO & JULIET. There to see my friends Randy and Sean and Donald and director, Gary ..... it was old home week. It was nice. I didn't know everybody, but I did enjoy surprising some people. Reall good production, although it did make me flash back to our college production quite a bit. Back when Randy played Benvolio (and here playing the Friar). :)

Afterwards, we headed back to Cooter Brown's, where we were joined by Sean's girlfriend (who I'd been hearing about for years, and was so thrilled to finally meet!) and of course, the fabulous Michael Sullivan, with whom I was able to squeeze in one more night.

It was so nice, just hanging out and talking over a beer. Or two. It really sort of forced a flashback of my life. I mean, this really used to be my life. And it still fits, kind of. I cannot begin to tell you how weird that is. Because it IS still comfortable. It's the one thing I'm missing here. After a show, people go home. Sometimes, maybe, to a restaurant that MIGHT still be open. But there aren't any good quiet talking bars. I miss sitting for hours after a show and dishing everything.

And in particular, reconnecting with both Randy and Sean was pretty fabulous. :)

Day 10, the final day.

Bittersweet.

Happily saying goodbye to the crappy little motel room (it turns out that they're clearly refurbishing the place, and we were in an unrenovated room ... grr.) ... out we went into the world. Lunch with dad ... I even got a hug. (Impressive, as you may have gathered, he's not your warm and fuzzy guy).

From there, one more drive through the city to see a few more sights. We started with Lakshore Drive, where most (if not all) of the palm trees are on what look like crutches. Or maybe more like the equivalent of dogs being in those cone collars.

Next, a quick drive onto my college's campus, where there were so many new buildings I could barely recognize the place!

From there, one more jaunt into NO East, where I wanted to get a shot of the gas station(s), frozen in time (gas was $2.35 there in August 2005!) ... it's got this sort of ghosttown quality to it.

While we were there, we saw a stairway that led to nothing ... with the house it was presumably once attached to many feet away.

We contemplated going to the Ninth Ward, but ultimately decided not to go. From my perspective, I didn't know that part of town terribly well so I wouldn't know what I was looking at. Plus, I feel that the media has covered the Ninth Ward so thoroughly that I suspect that the average citizen of the US would not be familiar with the destroyed neighborhoods of Lakeview, Lake Terrace, New Orleans East - to name but a few - and that's what I wanted to document.

On our way back out of the city, we passed something in West End that kind of caught my eye. Somehow, as many times as we'd passed it over the previous week, it finally just hit me. A drive-through fast-food burger joint (Checkers) ... where everything was standing (signage, menu, picnic tables) EXCEPT the actual building. Mind-blowing. Still.

We concluded we were done with the sight-seeing portion of the trip, and stopped in for the final family "obligation", a visit with my aunt. I have to say, in spite of her difficulties with aging (she has trouble finding her words ... she can describe what she wants to say, but can't remember the actual word) it was one of the most deightful visits we've ever had. We've never been close. Actually, that's probably an understatement. A vast, vast understatement.

But yet, here we were. In watching my father and her in the same day, I finally - for the first time - viewed them as siblings, with simiar speech patterns, attitudes and mannerisms. And I saw a woman who had a much harder life than she'd signed on for, and yet survived. And I saw a woman honestly trying to reach out to me.

I'm glad we went.

That's true of both the visit with my aunt, and New Orleans as a whole.

I do love my city. I'd forgotten how much.

Days Seven and Eight

2006-08-02T22:14:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to lose track of the days. In many ways, I'm glad I'm keeping this blog, otherwise I'd have no sense of time any more. :/

Day Seven. Tuesday. Decided to keep the day a bit low key; beignets and cafe au lait at Morning Call (not worth the drive to the Quarter to go to Cafe Du Monde, especially as Dick has been there before). After that, a trip to the bookstore for some local color books (including the Chris Rose book I've been meaning to buy).

A little time at dad's place to be the Good Daughter. Taking care of some family business; also trying to help him get his computer functioning. It's quite ill; I'm quite sure it's virus-ridden. I downloaded Norton for him and got that set up but told him if it doesn't find anything, to please take it in for repairs.

I doubt that he'll do that.

My dad's new place is all beige. I realized, since the last time I was here three years ago was to help him pack up the house in the East, I never did see the place he moved into from there. But post-Katrina, he has a little townhouse in a gated community. It's entirely beige. Beige carpets and walls and blinds and appliances and trim. Beige. And of course he doesn't help with the fact that he's never hung a single picture - and he's got some great paintings.

And I have to admit, it was weird to see the family furniture I'd grown up with in some other location.

It was weird to see things my mother picked out in some other location.

Maybe part of me is glad she didn't have to go through this. On the other hand, had she been living, they would still be living in the house in the East, and he might have convinced her to stay. Then again, perhaps she would have convinced him to go.

It's amazing how worked up you can get over events that didn't actually happen.

On with the day. Dick's friend Erin works in the kitchen at the Court of Two Sisters, where she promised they would "take care of us". My friend Sheila was able to walk over from where she works in the Quarter to meet us and enjoy with us. Did they ever take care of us! We didn't even need the menu ... they did the "small dishes" (a "tasting menu", I suppose) where they just keep serving small portions of an assortment of dishes. It went on and on and on ... some of the things weren't even on the menu. But oh my God. It was insane. And wine, we also had some lovely wine. And coffee and dessert. Wow.

After that we rolled down the street to Molly's on Toulouse where - and God I miss this about New Orleans - we were able to just sit quietly and talk over a drink. There are no good talking bars in LA. And, I'd missed this so much this week, we were there til 1:30am and they were still going strong. I was glad to not be kicked out because they were closing. It was really nice to have the time to visit with Sheila.

Sheila and I

Dick and Erin

It's a dog-friendly bar. I didn't get the dog's name, but the toy is a stuffed cow.

It was a lovely, lovely evening.

Day Eight. Got up and met my "little brother" Leon for lunch. I haven't seen him since I left town, because he spent several years off getting his MFA, so he was never in town when I was here visiting. Finally, we got to catch up! I miss that boy.

The "little brother" thing goes back to college. We reconnected years later as we were both a big part of the New Orleans theatre scene; we were the people we always counted on to tell the truth. We'd see each others' shows, we'd hug and say "great show", and then under our breath "we'll talk", and then on Monday one would call the other and say "OK, so what did you really think?" and we'd call it like we saw it.

Wednesday evening, we accidentally left the camera in the hotel room, so we were not able to record photographically the fact that we had a lovely dinner with Byron and Lisa Mauthe. Two friends of mine from high school and college who had been best friends since they were in high school ... and only figured out that they needed to be together about two years ago. They seem blissfully happy and it's wonderful to see them ... TOGETHER. Wow.

I was seriously blessed in the Friend department.

From there, we went on to a gay bar called Cowpokes in a part of town that usually makes me nervous ... but was practically deserted. Plus there were National Guard troops down the street. Still weird figuring out what's more safe and less safe these days. Michael had been so good about going wherever we wanted all during the week, we thought it only fair to go play on his turf for an evening.

I do love that boy too.

Sigh.

Driving home, I was filled with so much sadness yet again for the city I mourn. And I'm frustrated and angry and all those other things ... but here's something interesting. Pre-Katrina, if you had asked me if I'd ever consider moving back, I'd have laughed you up and down the block. Between the heat, the rain, and the mediocrity of some of the arts scene, I just didn't see the point. The city was dangerous and depressing and not something worth returning to.

But post-storm? I see its beauty all over again. I'm not blind; I see the flaws, same as they ever were. But I also see the potential for greatness. If only the politicians in charge could stop thinking about themselves and the "correct political moves" and actually make a plan ... it could be amazing. It could be a beautiful, thriving, vibrant city, better than ever. And I suddenly WANT that! One day when Dick and I are done with LA and we're contemplating where to go next (or retire to), I WANT to be able to look at how wonderful New Orleans is and consder coming home.

And I have to tell you, that's about the last thing I expected to feel. And I didn't feel it until I got here. Until I saw it in its wounded state.

Go figure.

Days Five and Six

2006-07-31T22:38:00.000-07:00

If we kept up with the pace of days one through four, you'd probably have to scrape me off the floor by now.

Day Five, Sunday, we decided to take it easy a bit. Since we're in a Shoney's Inn, we decided to just wander next door to the Shoney's for their breakfast buffet. Good thing that's what we wanted, too, since it's apparently the only thing on their menu currently.

After that, we went back out into the world, for a little more driving. When we had gone to the Columns for my reunion on Saturday, we had driven down St. Charles Avenue, and Dick was admiring the houses in the dark. I promised we'd go take a look at them in the daylight.

St. Charles Avenue was largely untouched, being higher ground. We drove from downtown to uptown, complete with a side trip to my old stomping ground of NOCCA. I should point out that NOCCA moved long ago to a new campus in another part of town, so the photos I'm posting are of an already abandoned building. At least I assume it was abandoned: the name of NOCCA is still above the door.

After that drive, we decided to go in search of dinner. I thought, somehow, that armed with my list of "restaurants that have reopened", I was set. Nope. Just because a restaurant has "opened" technically, doesn't mean they keep anything resembling normal hours. Or are opened seven days a week. Or have their usual menus.

After a few misses we ended up at R & O's, which is not to imply it's a bad choice - it's always been a favorite - but wasn't necessarily what I had a hankering for at that moment. But that sort of sums up what it's like: you don't necessarily have access to what you want. You have to take what you can get.

After a very fried dinner (fried shrimp! with french fries!) we paused back at the hotel, and then on to the west bank to meet the boys (Dane and Michael) for coffee. For the non-New Orleanians reading this blog, the west bank is the equivalent of the Valley. In terms of snobbery and perceived distance. In fact, they are so similar, that the week of the hurricane, my head was so fully immersed in New Orleans that when I had a meeting in the Valley, I kept saying to Dick that I had a meeting on the West Bank. I must have said it three or four times before I finally realized what I was saying.

But that's how much I love the boys.

We sat and talked til midnight, which is rare in the city these days, and I think they were keeping the place open just for us - which we thanked them profusely for.

Day Six, we slept in quite a bit, and started the day with lunch at Radosta's, home of some of the best po-boys in the city. (They also used to make the best onion rings on the planet, but they don't offer them any more - everyone and their limited menus - but considering how much crap I'm eating on this trip, that's probably not a bag thing.) It's a cool place, where everything's on the honor system. You order your food, and then if you want drinks or chips or whatever, that's all out in the dining area, and you just take what you want. When you're done, you go up to the counter where they have the ticket for your food items, and you tell them what else you've consumed.

Back to the hotel for a bit, where I proceeded to call all of the people I want to see this week. Connected with precious few; made a lunch date with my little brother Leon for Wednesday, and made a coffee date with my agent and friend Becky for later that day.

Becky is an amazing woman, and all agents should be like her. She rocks. It was so great to see her. I've known her since I was ... well, I've known her for more than half my life. Wow.

From there, dinner with my dad; we first attempted a closed restaurant (shocked, I tell you), and then on to a new-ish restaurant. Same owner, similar menu, different name. I have to admit to being slightly disappointed in the food; but as that's only my second complaint in six days, I guess that's OK.

Then back to the Columns for drinks with Michael. Seriously, we couldn't figure out where we could go that would be open! But as a hotel, odds were good the bar would be open late.

We arrive, and after greeting Michael, head back to the restroom. As I'm headed this way, I see a familiar face. We get closer to one another, and he looks at me like he knows me ...

"Matt?"
"Tracy?"

Speaking of people I've known nearly half my life, Matt is an old friend, a photographer, who I had lost touch with a few years ago, and after my computer crashed, stood no chance of reconnecting. I had always wondered what had happened to him after the hurricane, if he was OK.

And there he was, having a cup of coffee at the Columns, to listen to some live music in the next room.

He joined us as well, so we had a chance to catch up, reconnect, and trade contact info.

New Orleans is thisbig, I tell ya. One of the many many reasons I love this city.

Day Four

2006-07-30T14:07:00.000-07:00

Saturday was actually incredibly overwhelming, in so many ways, that I had to take a break from blogging and get a little distance.

Maria came in from Bossier - actually, her whole family was in Lafayette for the weekend, so she took the little hop down. So we went to lunch with her, and Marissa and the girls.

I will post pictures once I get home - because I really want to post side by side pix of us from the 80s, and now. Side by side.

These woman are amazing. The two of them actually have been friends since high school; in college, I met them, and after some adjustment, the twosome became a threesome. We have seen each other through quite literally the best and the worst: three marriages, six children, and seven funerals ... to just pick out the major life-changing events.

When I left NOLA to go west, it was hard to separate from them. I needed to go, for a whole host of reasons, but ... hard, still. (Only Maria's oldest, Sydney, actually remembers Auntie Tracy.)

But I knew when I left - whenver I came home to visit, they would be here. They would be a part of the landscape that is New Orleans. Born and raised, not even leaving for college, both settled with families, they were never leaving. So aside from the phone calls and emails, I knew I could always count on seeing them at home.

File this under "Katrina Damage That No One Thinks About".

Maria's house was destroyed:

The B&W photo she sent me in October; the other photo taken this week. Dick snapped the photo as I stared inside the now-gutted house, trying to remember where all the furniture went.

Maria and her family happened to evacuate to Bossier City, LA. And now, nearly a year later, they've decided to call it home. They've wrestled with coming back, but to what? How much work would go into the house? How much work could she get? Even if a decent school opens for the kids, will there be any kind of life for them here?

Meanwhile, Marissa's house is mostly intact, but not quite livable for her and the girls. So she's been living in Baton Rouge while her husband commutes back and forth for work. And they could go home, but so much of her very close-knit family has split up now ... they've decided to take this opportunity to move on career-wise, and be closer to family. Their destination is probably Dallas, TX. She had really hoped she'd be settled somewhere by now, but the wheels of Katrina roll very slowly.

End result. Neither will be living at "home" any more. And won't be living in the same place. (They'll be about a 3 hour drive from each other, but still.)

And after we said goodbye yesterday, after I walked back into the hotel room ... I started uncontrollably crying. I can honestly say now that I have no idea when I'll see them again. (I'm getting all choked up just typing this, now.)

They will always be my rocks, these two women. And I will always know them. And I'm thinking up some ways to ensure that we continue to see each other.

But they're part of what will be forever missing from the landscape of this city.

There's more to Day 4 that was heartbreaking. I drove through the neighborhood that I grew up in, New Orleans East, and it was practically a ghost town. Parts of it are like a shrine to what life was like in August 2005 (gas was only $2.35!) ... and it's so overwhelming. This is a huge area, geographically, and it's only NOW slowly coming back to life. And there are so few stores of any kind actually open, and I'm told there's still very little in the way of utilities functioning. But people were out, and working on their houses, at least in some places.

This is the house I grew up in. It's been gutted; there's a water mark on the front door. I imagine my father is glad he sold it two years prior to the hurricane.

This was a fairly typical house in the East. Vacant, gutted, overgrown. Ever wonder how tall grass and weeds can grow in a year?

And then, the icing on the cake, my high school reunion. As I suspected, very few of my closest pals actually went to this thing, although a few did. And that was wonderful, to surprise them. As we gathered to take the class picture, a girl I'd barely known in school turned to me, wide-eyed, and said, "Isn't this ths must surreal experience?" And I had to admit, it was. Seeing all the same faces - only older. Some looking the same, without a doubt. Others ... I needed to look at the picture on their name tag to try and figure it out.

I'm glad I went. And I'll be good with waiting another 10 years go do it again.

Day Three.

2006-07-28T22:02:00.000-07:00

The day mostly spent with friends. A good part of the afternoon hiding out from a rainstorm (actual thunder and lightning! yay!) at Marissa's house, with her adorable triplets. The evening spent out to dinner with Marissa (sans triplets), and old friend Rodney and his partner, Brian. I can't remember the last time I saw Rodney. Seriously, I think it was in the '80s. We recently reconnected via email - like a week or two ago - and I'm so happy that it timed out to my being in town. After dinner, we went to see Rodney's house (after 13 years of renovations, they were nearing completion when the hurricane hit, filling it with eight inches of water and lots of mold.) Luckily, they own a rental property across the street, so they've been living there. They live in this gorgeous section of mid-City that frankly, I never knew existed. It's like this little hidden street. And we all just sat for a while and caught up and got to know each other all over again.

The other cool thing that happened today was while getting lunch, I actually ran into an old friend from high school, Lisa. I keep looking at people while I'm here, thinking they look so familiar. And I do this over and over, wondering if I've ever met them. And in walks this woman and I think, "Gee, now she looks like Lisa." :) We're going to have dinner with her and her husband - also an old friend - next week. Which is fabulous. :)

That was all the good stuff. We did more driving around. I won't post all of my pictures here, because it would take up too much space, but I will start putting them elsewhere online and provide a link at the end of the trip. I will give you some highlights here, though.

It's all still so devastating. The fact that it's been nearly a year. The fact that people are stuck in a holding pattern. The fact that even sometimes people here - the lucky ones who didn't lose everything - don't fully understand what the people who did are going through.

The fact that some people STILL don't have FEMA trailers. And some have them, but have yet to receive the keys. And some have the keys, but are still waiting for the electricity to be set up. And still others are done with theirs, but can't get them removed.

The fact that even though, intellectually, I know the city inside and out, and have studied the flood maps thoroughly ... even I didn't fully grasp the scope of the devastation.

The news focuses on the Ninth Ward. The Ninth Ward this, that and the other. And it's all true. But it wasn't the ONLY area to be destroyed. There was another levee break. Some people are calling it a wealthy area, but I would say mixed-to-working-class, because to be frank, I once almost rented an apartment on that street, the street that butts up against the levee. And I've never been anything remotely resembling wealthy.

Those are the neighborhoods that I've been touring. And I have more to see. You have to understand: there are rows and rows of houses, blocks in and out, where you just see over and over again, everything from complete devastation to nearly-finished rebuilds, and everything in between again.

I just can't wrap my mind around it all. It would seem to me that this would be the time for everyone to band together. To say, "to hell with race, religion, political party - let's just work as a team to rebuild our beautiful city - and make it better, safer, stronger!" But clearly everything is just going in the opposite direction. Rapidly. There's a whole chicken-and-egg thing going on (we need more workers! the workers need somewhere to live! we can't get anything done because we need more workers!) and no one seems to want to come up with a plan of action.

My father made the comment that back in his day (ie, Hurricane Betsy, 1965, the last Big One the city saw) people just came in, cleaned up their own mess and got on with it. They didn't sit around waiting for government handouts, he said, with some contempt.

I snapped.

Waiting for handouts? Seriously. Think about this. Imagine that you have a house, and it was completely destroyed. But it's been months before you could even think about getting back into the city to really assess the damage for yourself, even though you're fairly sure you know what's coming. And then once that happens, the insurance settlement takes its sweet time (and sometimes, not at all). Meanwhile, you're paying your mortgage on a house you can't live in, and you've got your family of five living in an apartment somewhere else. You're paying on two residences, and living in one of them.

So maybe you'd like to rebuild. But first, the city keeps you on hold while they decide whether they're going to appropriate your land for increased levee support. And then if they will let you rebuild, whether or not the land is now too toxic to build on. Or how high you have to rebuild the new house. Everything changes, moment to moment. You wait and wait and wait for a concrete answer.

Let's say after all of this, you finally decide you WANT to come home, you WANT to rebuild. And you're two working parents with three kids. You're already overtaxed with the two home payments - where does the money come to hire the contractors to do the work? And do you live in a FEMA trailer in front of your house, all five of you? Do you send your kids to the schools in New Orleans right now?

And let's face it, the more you hear about how the levees aren't going to be improved at all, is all of this hassle REALLY worth it, when you think it could all happen again because no one will build levees (even though the technology exists) to withstand a category 5?

It's sad and awful, and really, pathetic.

They say the country is "tired of hearing about Katrina and New Orleans."

Too damn bad.

Day Two

2006-07-27T23:39:00.000-07:00

First, a quick word to the non-blogger people out there who have found that without a blogspot account they couldn't post a comment. Sorry about that. You should no longer have an issue. Comment away! :)

Day One.

First, I have to tell you, I pretty much slept like a rock. Maybe it was just, after the anticipation of this trip, finally being here ... I could let go a little bit. I don't know. Or maybe it was just the air conditioning. :)

Today we ventured out, after sleeping in, in search of food. I have to say, suburbia (where I lived for my last 8 years or so in the city) is looking relatively normal. I mean, yes, there's plenty of construction, and FEMA trailers, and yes, some businesses had their signs missing, and others were closed (permanently or otherwise). But there was traffic, and hustle and bustle, and the area was basically as I remembered it, with some of the inevitable change that a city will have after several years.

That was good.

Came back to the motel, made some phone calls (talked to some people I haven't talked to in YEARS, and it was way too much fun to surprise them).

We were meeting my friend Michael for dinner at 8pm, so we had several hours before then, and we didn't want to just stay in the room. So off we went, on a drive.

First I went to Old Metairie. It's a very ritzy area that got hit pretty hard in the storm, and an area I knew very well because I worked there for several years. Because it was an area with money, there was a lot of construction - by and large, these were people with the means to rebuild. There were also empty lots where I was quite certain houses used to stand.

The area was not without its humor.
This place here, for example, amused me terribly.

Or this one. Something about the old-money nature of this neighborhood just made this trailer seem a little out of place. Of course, knowing it was the old money folks who decorated it ......

But that's where the comedy ended.

We drove out of the area, through another part of town with some nostalgia ... and then realized I was headed to Lakeview. Lakeview is the other part of town where the levee failed. It's not the part you read about in the national news, so much.

As I turned onto Fleur de Lis Street, where the neighborhood sign "Lakeview" remained on the neutral ground, covered in overgrown weeds ... my heart sank. Not that it was a surprise, mind you, the dirty streets and the unkempt grass ... but just seeing it, finally.

Unfortunately, we realized that the camera batteries were dying, so I only have a few pix to share. We'll go back tomorrow, though, because some of the images were so poignant. God bless the citizens of New Orleans, who not only wear their hearts on their sleeve, they paint them on the fronts of their houses.

I cann't express how heartbreaking this was. And this was down ONE street. Granted, it was a street I had nearly rented an apartment on, so I felt a little kinship to it. But the destruction, particularly at the spot where the levee had broken. Marissa had told me to bring my kleenex ... she wasn't kidding.

I wasn't entirely ready for it, but since we were already there, we went a little further down to the lakefront area. To the area where some once amazing seafood restaurants were now ... gone. I mean gone. Like, fell into the lake gone. Nothing but pilings. I knew that had happened to one of the restaurants, and I'm sure it should have dawned on me that it wasn't selective, that they would ALL be gone ... but it hadn't.

All at once, I remembered the bad blind date at Bruning's; the night Laurie was in town and we went out to Fitzgerald's and had drinks and danced with the live band; picnics at West End Park. This photo is of the parking lot of these great restaurants:

Those cars have been in that mating position for almost a year. And the area behind the cars? That's where the restaurants all used to be.

The day wasn't all doom and gloom. We spent the evening in the French Quarter, sat on the riverfront, walked around to see what was still around and what wasn't, and most importantly, had dinner and drinks with the fabulous Michael Sullivan.

Sad, though, to leave the Quarter around midnight ... with it virtually empty.

Postscript for Today (photo)

2006-07-26T21:15:00.000-07:00

The art in our room leaves something to be desired.

Day One.

2006-07-26T19:17:00.000-07:00

Survival.

Just needing to accept that "it'll all be OK" (the mantra Dick keeps making me repeat).

The day starts out rather easily. Really, probably too easy. Taxi is on time and makes good time, check-in is a snap, even security is quick and painless. The flight almost entirely smooth.

We walk out and embrace the humidity.

A little disappointed that the car rental company I chose because it was the cheapeast that was actually located inside the terminal ... wasn't, in fact, located inside the terminal. Fine, no biggie. We go and collect our car ... and it is .....

... the second worst rental car I've ever had. Oh, it's cute; but it's as though the designers were striving so hard for something attractive on the outside, that they didn't pay much attention to the inside. I'm not sure who this car was built for. Seriously. It's not short people, I promise you that. (I had to - for the first time ever - sit on a cushion to drive the thing.) And yet, according to the 6'3" security guard, it's not built for tall people either. And it IS a small car. ("It's the next step up from a bicycle," said the baffled Thrifty employee, who couldn't understand my request for a smaller car.)

So ok, fine. It is what it is.

We make our way to the hotel ("good luck on your first drive through the city," said my friend Kim, who just happened to call as I was dealing with the rental car, having no idea I was here yet.)

The hotel is unimpressive (though there will be photos to follow of the humorous bits). And there's free wireless internet, so I'm a happy girl.

But (you knew there was a but, right?) ... well ... family dynamics. There are some issues that I will not post publicly (but feel free to ask via email, should you care) ... for those of you who HAVE been going through the "so what are you going to do????" questions ... the answer is ... I won the battle ... and proceeded to lose the war. :p

I don't mean to be cryptic, but suffice it to say my dad and I have a difficult relationship.

But really. I don't think it's just me. Don't we all just want our parents to love us as we are, when it comes right down to it? I can't imagine I'm the only one who goes through this. The slightest disapproval from my dad sends me into a meltdown. But I'm filled with the frustration that he just doesn't listen (or hear) me; and equally frustrated with myself that I can't communicate with him more clearly.

Anyway. I'm here. I just want to sleep well, enjoy the air conditioning, and start the day fresh.

Ack.

2006-07-26T01:28:00.000-07:00

I. Haven't. Started. Packing.

Too hot to blog. Or think.

2006-07-25T20:54:00.000-07:00

Sure, I grew up in hot humid New Orleans.

But we had air conditioning.

It was a way of life.

Here on the west side of Los Angeles, only one of my four apartments had central air; one had a window unit in the living room only; the other two, none at all.

And that's rarely been a problem.

Holy cow this is freaking miserable.

The dog just skulks around, trying to find cool, dark places to sleep (we find him under furniture more often than not, now).

Sigh.

We leave tomorrow morning and neither of us has packed. And we certainly haven't clearned. It's nearly 9pm.

Part of it, I'm sure, is the absolute dread that accompanies this trip. Sure, I want to see my dad; sure, I want to see my friends; sure, I want some beignets ... I even want to see what the city looks like. Sorta. But part of me isn't. It's been nearly a year, and I still am not entirely sure I'm ready.

I will try to blog while I'm away. With pictures, if I have the technology.

Compact Parking

2006-07-20T12:40:00.000-07:00

I would just like to know.

When did the word "compact" on a parking space go from meaning "only compact cars should park here" to "this is a small parking space - but go ahead and have fun prentending your giant truck or SUV will fit!"

Just curious.

That is all.

If I told you you had a nice aura ...

2006-07-18T10:27:00.000-07:00

... would you hold it against me?

OK, no one really said that, but a strange woman in Norm's late one evening did say my aura was very bright.

And honestly? I was having such a fantastic weekend, that I imagine it WAS, indeed, all aglow.

But I'm starting in the middle of the story.

It's Friday night, and we decide to do a double-header at Sacred Fools - the mainstage La Bete (because it sounded interesting and he needed another Ovation show) and the late night Bukowsical (because Kathi's in it and we'd been promising her for months that we'd go). La Bete was really quite good - there were some things I didn't love about it, but I thought both the acting and direction were phenomenal, and I'd rank that as my all-time 2nd favorite show by the Fools. After the show, we go outside to wait to come back in for the late night show, and suddenly we see our dear friend Mary Elizabeth - who we hadn't seen in over a year - and had just emailed us that day with her new email address, after having not been in touch for quite some time! We had no idea we both chose that night to see Kathi! It was so wonderful to see her ... and while we're catching up, and basking in our delight at running into one another ... up walks Bill, who says oddly enough, he only just read my last blog post about running into fellow theatre people randomly at the theatre! He too was there for Kathi ... we formed our own little cheering section. It made an otherwise fun evening that much more fun.

Now on to Saturday.

To begin with, I had a wedding to go to the next day. And I truly had nothing to wear. This is not just something women say; there was honest-to-God nothing in my closet that fit me. I have my skinny dresses, which I'm still a ways from getting over my hips, and my fat dress from last fall, which is now too big. If need be, I could pin the big dress, but I thought, heck, I'll go on over to Ross and see if I can find something for cheap. An interim dress.

Well imagine my surprise when none of the first round of dresses I brought into the dressing room fit because - at size 6 - they were TOO BIG.

"I must be some in-between size," I grumbled, as I picked up some size 4's, waiting to be sorely disappointed.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I was able to purchase a lovely new dress for around $15 (I love that store) ... and it was a size 4.

I bought a size 4.

Woo hoo! Happy dance!

That evening, Dick and I had committed to doing box office at Ark. And there was this older couple who came to the show - repeat customers - who were just so taken with our company in general. They totally got who we are and what we're trying to do, and were waxing poetic about how wonderful it was. Sometimes you bust your ass doing the work to create something, and you're not ever sure anybody cares. And then, suddenly, you're gifted with ... appreciation. And you know that what you're doing has some meaning to someone.

I don't think we've seen the last of them.

On to Sunday, and the wedding and the size 4 dress (yay!). Well, the real story here, is that without thinking, I had agreed to have Dick commit us to doing a screenplay reading for a celeb friend (who I won't name-drop and, well, name), totally forgetting that the wedding was the same day. D'oh! So the wedding was at 5p and the reading we pushed back to 8:30. Of course, the wedding was in Long Beach and the reading at the theatre ... but I kept thinking, we won't get to stay terribly long, but long enough.

Of course, I wasn't banking on it being a sit down dinner rather than buffet. Since they were taking their time through the courses ... well, we made it through bread and salad. Sigh. We had to leave.

We do the reading - almost entirely Ark talent, or at least friends of ours - and he (the friend) was thrilled. Not only that it was read well, and gave him a lot to work on, but because a group of actors, most of whom didn't know him from Adam (well, not personally), were perfectly willing to give up a few hours on a Sunday night of a holiday weekend to read his screenplay ... just because. He said some jaw-droppingly complimentary things to us, individually and as a whole.

It was enough to ride high on through the night, as Dick and I went to get some dinner, finally, around 11pm. We figured Norm's was open, so what the heck. Not high quality, but it's there. But the vibe in the place was just ... weird. Between the zillions of open tables that they refused to seat anyone at, and the complete ignoring of the actual sign-in list, and the really really bizarre clientele, we finally just walked out. But before we did, while Dick was in the restroom, this woman looks over at me and compliments my dress. I've barely gotten out "thank you," when she tells me how bright my aura is, and can she do a reading for me?

"No," I said politely, "but thank you!"

On to Canter's for what was arguably one of the best burgers in the city (I had no idea they did fabulous burgers - I go to Canter's, I usually get corned beef or something!), and the people-watching. The folks next to us were desperately trying to order off the menu. Gotta love that. They were really in the mood for Greek food, apparently. (So they went to the Jewish deli?)

And just enjoyed the evening. And the burger. And my husband. And the glow of compliments and the feeling that maybe, just maybe, we were doing something right.

I am a Theatre Person

2006-06-26T23:03:00.000-07:00

And all that entails.

Even when I get tired of the business of the business, theatre feeds my soul.

One of the things I really miss about New Orleans is that there's a true Theatre Community. Which is good and bad (hard for newbies to break in; can be very cliquish; gets incredibly incestuous when you realize that it's everyone's dating pool as well ... but that's a whole different topic).

But it's a community.

I could show up to any theatre in town and know someone on stage, and probably someone in the audience.

I could show up to any theatre in town and feel certain I'd have someone to grab a drink with afterwards. Or that odds were good I'd be invited to the party.

I miss that.

There are a couple of times I've had that "oh, you're one of us" experiences here in LA.

Once was early on. I went to see Bon's show at The Next Stage (she had directed); and I happened to know two people in the audience! (yes, I only linked to one on purpose.) (A third I met, and I'd get to know - and work with - later!) I'd only been living in LA for a few months, and I randomly went to the theatre alone and found people to connect with. What a joyous feeling!

It really didn't happen again - except for my Ark "home", which is of course ongoing - until this year.

My co-worker Kristi's husband Clark is an actor (you can't spit without finding one of us, right?) and he was doing a show for free at a little actor's studio in West LA. Well, I wanted to support, and you can't beat free, and West LA works for us so ... we went. I had never met him (although when you work with someone long enough, you DO feel like you know their families intimately), nor did I know anyone associated with the production. But after the show I stayed to introduce myself, and it turned out they were having a little wine and a mini-party, and so we had a chance to hang out a bit. We were also introduced to the director, this guy here, and he was incredibly cool (and he and Dick turned out to have people in common). It was very friendly, very "oh you're one of us, please stay a while". I liked it a lot.

But even that didn't compare to our recent journey to PRT (as I wrote about below). After the show, we were walking out, and then Dick doubled back to just tell the director how wonderful her work is. And it is. (This is the second show of hers we've seen, and ... yeah. She rocks.) As it turns out (and this was the first of many coincidences ... if you call them that) that she knows Paul. (Ark's Artistic Director). She immediately invited us to stay for the party.

And then things just got cooler. See, I'm a total geek about working character actors. They are the gods and goddesses of showbiz, to me. So to not only watch this man be Willy Loman for several hours in a theatre as intimate as PRT, but to sit and talk to him for quite some time afterwards ... well ... WOW. I was bouncing off walls. "Are you an actor, too?" he asked me. "Yup," I said. "My condolences."

By now we're well into the party (which really is the cast, a few other PRT people, the Crazy Woman and us)and people are just introducing themselves to us. "Who do you know here?" they'd ask. "No one," I'd say, "we just got to talking and stayed." And they'd hang out with us ... there was a whole "oh, you're theatre people? Then you're cool." Two people in particular were oh-so-awesome ... I laughed so hard that my cheeks were hurting by the time I left. We laughed for HOURS ... it was incredible! Then there was the college student I was offering Life Advice to (ha ha!). And of course, the director herself, who as I said, knew Paul - as it turns out - she was on the board of directors of his theatre company in Phildelphia - a position which she gave up the year before Dick joined that company, way back a million years ago! Small world.

I loved how welcoming they were. Such good, cool people - I look forward to seeing them again some time.