tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47583668082962715072024-03-12T16:55:23.520-07:00A Lil' Somethin' Somethin'JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-11729262785263311492021-09-11T20:41:00.004-07:002022-05-01T17:45:50.806-07:00"All in this together..."<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-nU8UU2t825fF9hf2Yq1Zr-ud4Oye8iVwKUnfDGqOHPnJbjBpscbU3BAcr3hnXzWrvGFwmrP92FYEEsp_5ZmBDMjNeaNK_KMnFe1dU6mAQYIkBG8zEqwA9tTwZo8RzW2gJFRM0HO0w8/s960/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-nU8UU2t825fF9hf2Yq1Zr-ud4Oye8iVwKUnfDGqOHPnJbjBpscbU3BAcr3hnXzWrvGFwmrP92FYEEsp_5ZmBDMjNeaNK_KMnFe1dU6mAQYIkBG8zEqwA9tTwZo8RzW2gJFRM0HO0w8/s320/1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir_q6Uki5fnqVTeTpsaSw4r-CYteehpwujhT8z-lHQeReJ1BRGq5mq6PYVWwm_9mdvNrPN_8NWJC1DKmSE_iriad9BisEnhRETjIWIFXkWjkwIjv5WvZ_lsGoI0j4hXIU8T0OVo7AjdBI/s960/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir_q6Uki5fnqVTeTpsaSw4r-CYteehpwujhT8z-lHQeReJ1BRGq5mq6PYVWwm_9mdvNrPN_8NWJC1DKmSE_iriad9BisEnhRETjIWIFXkWjkwIjv5WvZ_lsGoI0j4hXIU8T0OVo7AjdBI/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-Z-fqUNPzYPxtguQE7vi4c0VI8sKBhjxKgdLFa-b531gAFGiVCeZ4Qwe-ZAB_AGbGr5Rd-hOAqglL4GDNGG7K7Fv7iApzoG8sAzPP3p-2l8Xksqi_N95FOTDssRXdfzRqO0ytZ0Gvsw/s960/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-Z-fqUNPzYPxtguQE7vi4c0VI8sKBhjxKgdLFa-b531gAFGiVCeZ4Qwe-ZAB_AGbGr5Rd-hOAqglL4GDNGG7K7Fv7iApzoG8sAzPP3p-2l8Xksqi_N95FOTDssRXdfzRqO0ytZ0Gvsw/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZWnqHi3YWFx2k0lqZeOvG3gt0rWHtgURf5C7r3vRr5jufd2ygFFrPwZbRacLyNE96oZUTLpCrqEwzvX7OsEhgeDMBNt7Flxv9NyTlr7s9YqcneVPhFnRtLnS9xLdEh-nLKBFrhCaZQc/s960/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZWnqHi3YWFx2k0lqZeOvG3gt0rWHtgURf5C7r3vRr5jufd2ygFFrPwZbRacLyNE96oZUTLpCrqEwzvX7OsEhgeDMBNt7Flxv9NyTlr7s9YqcneVPhFnRtLnS9xLdEh-nLKBFrhCaZQc/s320/4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>
(Is it just me or are their weird 11 looking things in the right hand corner of the first and last shots - if you don’t zoom in?!)
Last night I took a very long walk - and everywhere I went - these lights followed me. It was an excellent visual reminder of how the soul of this city is always with you - before you move here, while you live here, and if you should ever leave. Of course it inspired me to capture a few shots but nearly every time I took pictures of the sky - this additional column of light accompanied it. It happened over in the Meatpacking District and then again later in the East Village - so it couldn't have been an errant glaring street light. It even happened when I was just trying to capture the beautiful moon in the clear night sky. I don't always comment on this anniversary. I wasn't here when it happened so it feels like my experience is far less interesting than those who were. Even though I know that we all were changed by that day - I understand that my experience pales in comparison to those covered in ash, those unable to reach their loved ones who worked in the World Trade Center, those watching people jump out of buildings as they made their way home by foot without cell service, those first responders who got sick and suffered/died from the carcinogens they were allowed to inhale from Ground Zero without ever receiving proper assistance from the government, & those brown Americans among us who would endure two decades of the violence/hate of xenophobia for something they had nothing at all to do with. In spite of the fact that I had yet to be a resident, of course this day affected me in a myriad of ways that I am still figuring out. This place which held my heart long before it became my home was under attack. This place that I knew would become my home. This place that I knew I would never want to leave - through blackouts, protests, hurricanes, pandemics, more protests, floods, and more. Some people say "There is a time to come to New York - and there's a time to leave." Those are clearly the opportunists who never added anything besides frustration to this city which is certainly not sad to see them go. I have never imagined a time that I would WANT to leave. If you don't want to stay here through your beautiful city's struggles - you never truly wanted the actual experience of LIVING in this city and you most definitely don't deserve any of the goodness it has given you. This city gives each and every one of us life every second we trudge through it - and we give it life in return. I could never imagine voluntarily leaving it in its time of need.
I was somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean Sea working on a cruise ship when I learned that the planes hit the towers. It wasn't long until the details began to unfold and we would learn of the plane hitting the Pentagon - and then of the plane on it's way to D.C. that went down only an hour and half from where I grew up in Pittsburgh - where my mom and brother still were. Never before in my life had I known this type of fear and anxiety in my own country and it was hitting not only my future home but hitting so very close to my HOME home - and there I was in the middle of nowhere unable to be with my friends and family in NYC or Pittsburgh. That week's passenger list was even more international than usual and the crew was always sparse on Americans - so it felt rather surreal to be walking around going about my day amidst many who were not taking this news in quite the same way as I was. I felt like what I imagined the majority of the rest of the world probably experiences much more frequently - with the terrors they live with every single day while Americans are entirely oblivious and wholly unconcerned. I was performing as a Krooze Komic (interactive improv performer) on the ship and I could think of NOTHING more useless on that day than to be donning wigs and silly costumes and going out and acting like a fool. It truly felt like only a small amount of people there even cared/knew what had happened. I learned a very important lesson that day about being a performer. It felt absolutely absurd to continue to do such a light-hearted job on such a terrifying day - but whether those passengers were American or not - and whether they were experiencing the same fear and dread or were entirely oblivious - I learned that going out there and giving them their moment to laugh and escape was still a worthwhile thing to do. I have revisited this knowledge many times over the past 20 years when continuing to pursue a field that often can feel rather selfish. The Arts are far more important than they have ever been given credit for and we will always need the inspiration/education/escape/therapy only they can provide. I would do one more contract on the ship to save up more money before moving to NYC the moment I could in May of 2002. Many of my family and friends were worried - so soon after 9/11 - but it had never occurred to me that I would be deterred.
Certainly my experience living in this city has been fully shaped by what happened that day. The "clean up" the city was going through just prior - coupled with the instinct to band together and protect one another after having been attacked made this city safer than it had ever been in the decades before. The freedom with which I gallivanted around this town from day one has never been lost on me - even though it took me a while to trust it. When those planes hit the towers I had no idea what politics was about. I am constantly stunned now by how oblivious I was until I moved to NYC. It's not that there were not things happening (oh my - how they were) - I guess it was just something about being at war after an attack such as that and then living in a city this multicultural + working in the theatre community that would finally slap some sense into me and wake me up. I cannot fathom how this war went on so damn long. I cannot fathom the money we made from being in this war. I cannot fathom how little we did to actually help Afghanistan. I cannot fathom the harm we have caused which will linger into the next several decades. I cannot stomach hearing people say we were there to protect the women when that was 100% NEVER the reason we were there and it only makes people feel better to claim that. If we were truly there to HELP Afghanistan - the Taliban would not be taking over 20 years later. I cannot fathom the fact that it took Americans that long to experience for the very first time what it felt like for their land to be under attack - much like the exact same terror that the Native Americans residing peacefully here must have felt when we came stomping in - raping & pillaging everything they ever knew. I will always be grateful for those who fight for our freedoms but will never support the senseless capitalist wars they are forced to fight - all in the name of "American Democracy" - the greatest conspiracy theory ever told. Aside from the rampant increase in xenophobia (which was now given a massive greenlight) the one good thing about 9/11 was that a lot of people did come together - with new security regulations and rules to abide by during travel & a love for one another and wanting to protect your fellow neighbors. I wonder what it would be like if Covid-19 happened within the 5 years after 9/11. Would more people unite? Would less? We keep getting these opportunities to unite in this world and we just keep flubbing them. When Covid-19 began I couldn't ever imagine we would be so polarized about staying alive and keeping each other healthy. I was actually excited for the possibility that we could finally all see each other as the interconnected web that we are. I cannot fathom that there are people I know and love who think that mask mandates, vaccines, and quarantines are a conspiracy to control the masses while people continue to take up hospital beds and die horrible deaths as a result of those misguided beliefs. I still cannot fathom that many of my fellow Americans do not CARE whether they get me or my family/friends sick - while I do everything I can to make sure no one I come in contact with (stranger or friends) will get Covid from me. On 9/11 I thought we were entering a world of terror and fear that would be as debilitating as many humans in other countries live on a daily basis. Little did I know that we would have about 18.5 years of continued privilege without that terror - while we unnecessarily terrorized those living in Afghanistan for all of this time - leaving them far worse than when we started. The war on Covid-19 is one of the biggest enemies this country/world has honestly ever faced together (outside of white supremacy)- and we are fighting amongst ourselves with disinformation and lies - when we could actually all be saving one another and ENDING it. I will never forget the idea that we were all in this together that definitely came out of 9/11. I only wish it was more than just an idea - then - and now.
JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-2372242127921641022020-12-30T21:41:00.007-08:002020-12-31T12:00:38.078-08:002020 - The Year That Felt Like a DECADE.<p>Disclaimer: This is the Cliffnotes - believe it or not. Skim if you wish. Do what you may. It was a DOOZY!</p><p>Remember this time last year when some of us were compiling a review of the last decade? Who knew that just one tiny year later we would feel the need to do the same in just as immense a fashion? 2020 had the distinct audacity to somehow flew by while simultaneously dragging on in the same fashion of an entire decade. And while we have all very much looked forward to 2021 - it's impossible to imagine everything will just immediately get better again with the turning of the page on the calendar. I know we have figured this out by now - and no one truly expects 2021 to be some magically amazing new year (at least any more than some people always anticipate any new year being the year they actually do all the things they list in their resolutions yet quickly disregard). But, honestly, I feel like 2020 has changed us all in the way that whatever improvements we experience beyond this grueling year must come gradually and it's highly possible that "back to normal" may take another 4 years or more. Maybe there is no way we can ever get back there. I don't feel like I can. Though - in many ways that is not a bad thing. "Normal" before wasn't good for everyone and prioritized many unhealthy things (umm...Racism/Capitalism/The Patriarchy anyone?) - but I'm not really even talking about all of that exactly. I'm mostly thinking about what happens after one goes through a life-changing event - like having your heart broken or experiencing the death of a very close loved one. It changes the fibers of our being. It changes the way we think and love. It feels like it changes our actual DNA (that is - the .1 percent out of the 99.9 WE ALL SHARE IDENTICALLY). We have all gone through this together this year - and anything we experience from here on out can only be experienced through the senses of beings who have gone through this shared trauma. Nothing will ever be the same again. I only wish we were all on the same page about it all. <b>Some people live their entire lives without an opportunity like we have here. We had a once in a CENTURY opportunity to UNITE and actually take care of one another and half of the country decided that wasn't important enough to them</b>. I'd be lying if I said that I haven't lost almost all the little faith I had in humanity this year. And I'm not even here to discuss politics- as none of this should have ever been "political" in the first place. Though scratch that - because the basic health and care of human beings lives IS political. If you "aren't political" you are very very privileged/selfish. What it shouldn't have ever become was something that divided us. <b>For once we all were in the same exact boat</b> - subject to the same deadly virus, needing to do the same BASIC things to protect one another. Unfortunately some chose to believe otherwise and continue to do so. I will <b>never </b>understand this.</p><p>But hey - I didn't come here to write my opinions about the 2020 we all experienced together. I am actually here to document what a Shitshow it was for me and my little family. Mostly I have kept a lot of this to myself as I feel like - without being sick/dying from Covid - my family and I shouldn't fucking complain. I 100% understand that EVERYone is going THROUGH it this year and we are not alone - but honestly - I keep forgetting about some of the major things that happened through this year and felt the need to write them down - if only for my sake! I don't share every little thing that happens to me on the social medias - and some may get the impression that all is well or perfect in my world. I think it's fun to get a peek into each other's worlds on a personal level from time to time. I miss the olden days when I'd send a mass email update and old friends would crawl out of the woodwork and update me on their lives! But also - at one point I did reach out to some close friends saying I may want to plan a zoom or something - and got a few responses with their availabilities - and then I proceeded to drop the ball entirely. I thought it might be nice to know why I did that. So here goes.</p><p>My Quarantine Days started off pretty great. I have been fortunate enough to have my full-time day job this entire time from home. That. Is. Awesome. I had just adopted my kitty Moira around Feb 1 last year so she was VERY happy to have me home to play with all day long! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimlOp-Empg1TMS6ywi3f8x-WINLPDjOtbbjg9v1GaQ-jqM3623pudbr0lnBED0hhjpEbNptueBxtVQHnL1h_xtnEOzzN1kDzuDKZ2q4H9-ipBrZTRxVUwtLS91ZZeN5i6pWSBvvkikqfg/s750/84065726_10162968701100524_8837194940107718656_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimlOp-Empg1TMS6ywi3f8x-WINLPDjOtbbjg9v1GaQ-jqM3623pudbr0lnBED0hhjpEbNptueBxtVQHnL1h_xtnEOzzN1kDzuDKZ2q4H9-ipBrZTRxVUwtLS91ZZeN5i6pWSBvvkikqfg/s320/84065726_10162968701100524_8837194940107718656_n.jpg" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij65Wx-gZKnLFGzP5rYp_mX-gL4mX2Y6Q6UT0CF7d1i-IL360KT20iCuUDoAV1L5TT80rRpLPhOzlWRmSGuUbNfbCocRtG5jrtNp21VRYrR6tZmMRSaerpfGw0r0ser5TALluD6cBGL8I/s1800/83026417_10162921414800524_67777027767271424_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij65Wx-gZKnLFGzP5rYp_mX-gL4mX2Y6Q6UT0CF7d1i-IL360KT20iCuUDoAV1L5TT80rRpLPhOzlWRmSGuUbNfbCocRtG5jrtNp21VRYrR6tZmMRSaerpfGw0r0ser5TALluD6cBGL8I/s320/83026417_10162921414800524_67777027767271424_o.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJJQwM4CMO4_3SpFXyNzzFGfoafulUzUwEtdSZh4Ad0sg6Ju7QHRW7ks9mQ3cww3FmxHRw9usyODsR026zUXdRcImDbcTe2Ldt4bkQQAIyzt73JfSBesxbBqs-0YDXM16AZZ4oM2KJZU/s750/86728812_10163023241650524_2275289861705433088_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJJQwM4CMO4_3SpFXyNzzFGfoafulUzUwEtdSZh4Ad0sg6Ju7QHRW7ks9mQ3cww3FmxHRw9usyODsR026zUXdRcImDbcTe2Ldt4bkQQAIyzt73JfSBesxbBqs-0YDXM16AZZ4oM2KJZU/s320/86728812_10163023241650524_2275289861705433088_n.jpg" /></a></div>(she literally never does this - this was the ONLY time she did!)</div><p>My roommate and I are especially lucky to have a lovely roof area (feels like walking out onto a deck) - so any time we need fresh air we can just take a stroll out there and safely/unmasked bask in the outdoors. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgkp0o6KF-YGYS8mWMLbVXetVNWirLK3ipLKYp3H1F2jyY4wpZffTM-vfnzHcEw7pSXMYVatRz5cy1Hb6MgurpEF-rod3oBMun3WYxO7DVQ0_DsUv4xVVyUX2nw1FezV5zQK0NVdNewF0/s750/133113643_10164617636655524_8480739406767215254_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgkp0o6KF-YGYS8mWMLbVXetVNWirLK3ipLKYp3H1F2jyY4wpZffTM-vfnzHcEw7pSXMYVatRz5cy1Hb6MgurpEF-rod3oBMun3WYxO7DVQ0_DsUv4xVVyUX2nw1FezV5zQK0NVdNewF0/s320/133113643_10164617636655524_8480739406767215254_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>The only complaint I really had was one I really shouldn't share because I 100% understand how LUCKY I am to have a job. I've spent the majority of my existence in NYC prior to the past 4 years working freelance day jobs and <b>know </b>what it's like to be out of work/looking for work/terrified where my next paycheck is coming from. It's something I identify with and empathize with immensely. I HAVE NOT forgotten where I came from and could return to at any moment. But my current dayjob - is a long day - and often I am literally WORKING every minute of it. It's not all cushy and chill where I can do other things while I'm working and honestly when I'd be done - even working from home all day and eliminating the commute - all I could bring myself to do was watch Netflix and zone out. So - watching everyone around me fill their days with creative new hobbies/taking courses/making funny videos/recording songs/doing livestreams/starting creative businesses they always wanted to start/etc...had me a tiny bit jealous. Yet I knew for CERTAIN if I were unemployed - I would NOT have those creative juices flowing. That's just not how my juices work. Ew. Now you know. So this FOMO while having a stable paycheck coming in is INSANE - but it has been a part of my reality this whole time. I think part of that comes from the idea that, as a creative person, we always need to be doing something creative...and when we're not - we feel like we are failing. We not only have to work multiple day jobs to pay the bills but also need to get brand new creative business off the ground BY OURSELVES against immense competition AT THE SAME TIME. Creatives don't have "off-time". That's something I battle outside of pandemic life - so why would this be any different? That's a topic for another time - but I honestly do hope that EVERYone is FINALLY relieving themselves of this pressure - not just for this year when we could barely achieve anything because of horror-flick-realness - but for ALL years - because that pressure is anti-productive and brings more distress than it does creativity.</p><p>So everything was going fine until....</p><p>APRIL:</p><p>- I get a RANDOM-ass toothache and need an emergency tooth extraction. Finding an oral surgeon during the shut down was TOUGH AS HELL. AND they wouldn't allow me to use nitrous oxide (laughing gas) because of fears of Covid getting into the gas - so I had to do it with just novocain. UGH. I'm a baby about this okay?? It. Was. Not. Cute. So I had about a week of excruciating pain leading up to the extraction - then - for WHAT reason I don't know - after that fucker was gone - I had ANOTHER TWO WEEKS OF PAIN??? I've had tooth extractions before and when it's gone - the pain is gone - and your mouth just takes a few days to feel fine. I don't know WHAT this was but it SUCKED. Especially because they don't really prescribe good pain meds anymore because they got so many hooked on opioids - when you actually NEED 'em - FUCK YOU</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufpYKKys4FSzqw5AUENtMJuiOlknD4yV6OpxEkFS15TR-HDud2QA9XdTNblep4auYrQOLPOvJrwnuUkt_slFMzYl86FvnpSX78bdDMs8p9KFhLWnn6eHOI9N6kKn_ObLhqRGq1cOK6dA/s1153/94528262_10163446052275524_5984253396092190720_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="925" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufpYKKys4FSzqw5AUENtMJuiOlknD4yV6OpxEkFS15TR-HDud2QA9XdTNblep4auYrQOLPOvJrwnuUkt_slFMzYl86FvnpSX78bdDMs8p9KFhLWnn6eHOI9N6kKn_ObLhqRGq1cOK6dA/s320/94528262_10163446052275524_5984253396092190720_o.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>- My 79 year old Mom RANDOMLY injures her hand opening a bottle of Mountain Dew - requiring an ER visit and EMERGENCY PLASTIC SURGERY on her hand in the middle of the night. It's called <a href="https://www.webmd.com/pain-management/guide/compartment-syndrome-causes-treatments#1" target="_blank">Compartment Syndrome </a>- and evidently not uncommon. The actual surgery went smoothly but she did encounter some random complications after being sent home and had to go back to the hospital - for a small time being unable to really communicate properly with my brother and I in Brooklyn. It. Was. Scary.</p><p>- Somewhere in here - my Uncle Tom passed away in his nursing home. Not from Covid - but still. Mom and his other sisters all were able to get on a Face time with him and say goodbye - I think my mom was even still in the hospital herself at this point. This is the first of her siblings to pass away - mom's the oldest. No regular funeral of course - just a Zoom with all the cousins and a small attempt at a gathering a few weeks later into the summer. NOT the send-out my Uncle Tom deserved.</p><p>- This injury was on Mom's dominant hand and just before the Pandemic - she bought herself a new single floor home (rather than the 3 floor home she's lived in for about 47 years). So she had to move out of my childhood home and into her new home and get the old home on the market and SELL IT ASAP so she didn't have 2 mortgages and 2 sets of utility payments. So - even without having hurt her hand - she was going to need some help so....</p><p>MAY:</p><p>- Scott (my brother) goes to Pittsburgh to live with/help mom with daily activities and packing for the move. </p><p>- This will become more relevant in my JULY update - but - just for the sake of chronology - I <b>love</b> taking long-ass walks - and had been wanting, through all of the pandemic, to see if I could walk into the city from my place in Brooklyn (I'm near Sunset Park if you're looking on a map/are familiar). It's far. But on my 18th year Anniversary of living in NYC - I walked all the way to Times Square! I did take the subway back. I could have walked back if I had started earlier in the day - but by that point in the day the timing was better to take the train. I had not been on the island of Manhattan since March - and I needed to BE with my aching/lonely city on this anniversary!</p><p>JUNE:</p><p>I go to Pittsburgh to relieve Scott and take the reins. I help mom set a date for the move/schedule movers - and pack nearly every last box with her instructions into the wee small hours of the morning about mid-way through the month. Now - mom has always kept up with the old house and has been anticipating a move/selling it for decades now - so she's done TONS to prepare it for this sale - but there are still a lot of little odds and ends that need done and there's always more than you think once the inspectors do their thing (especially on an older house like this - with all of the new requirements for homes). So we start getting all of these last details worked on as well.</p><p>JULY: </p><p>- My brother and I switch places again and I head back to Brooklyn. Gearing up for some long healthy WALKS all around NYC, possibly some socially distant meet-ups/picnics in my favorite season, <b>FINALLY getting out there to some protests</b> I was only able to WATCH on TV and had been DYING to be a part of, and just a few days before my birthday - I promptly take a tumble one night in that first week on the corner at my neighborhood bodega and sprain my ankle/scrape up my elbow and hand and must have done a number on my back muscles as that hurt worse than anything for the next week or two. Thankfully all I needed was a walking brace thing for my foot - but I definitely couldn't do all the walking I had wanted to do! The good thing was that - once my back felt better - my foot wasn't that bad and I DID end up finding myself at a few protests - which I had been YEARNING for. And I got some crazy walks in....I walked all the way to Coney Island!</p><p>- Meanwhile - back in Pittsburgh - Mom's back is feeling wonky. She has had a few back problems over the course of the past 10 years and a few surgeries on it. This current pain sends her to the hospital and then a nursing home for assistance - maybe this is around 2.5-3 weeks time? My brother can't see her in the nursing home due to covid precautions - she has a horrible time there and only stays a week - and returns home. She is only given some pain meds and physical therapy visits at the house. She is still in horrible pain.</p><p>MID-AUGUST: </p><p>- My brother and I switch places again - him back in Brooklyn - me with mom. Mom never really is feeling better - and her mood reflects this. It's scary - and I can't help her feel better. We are all scared - she is scared that maybe she shouldn't have made this move. All she has ever done was try to make things as EASY as possible for my brother and I and this move was precisely a part of that plan. The last thing she ever wanted to do was cause us stress or need our care under these circumstances. We have the anxieties of the old house still not being ready to be on the market/sold - and she is just in so much pain - regardless of whatever pain meds she takes. We do the physical therapy and she is fighting like the fighter that she always has been. It's hard and scary. Then there was a glimmer of hope about 3 weeks in where I thought she might be feeling better - but everything turned around and suddenly she was experiencing a new horrible pain on top of the other previous excruciating pain. This was Labor Day weekend - she stuck it out until she couldn't anymore and on Labor Day we had the ambulance come take her to the ER. Thankfully they let me in with her there - and through the night we eventually learned that she has TWO compression fractures. TWO. <b>AND ONE HAD BEEN THERE DURING HER LAST STAY IN THE HOSPITAL A FEW WEEKS AGO THAT NO ONE EVER TOLD HER ABOUT - NOR SUGGESTED SURGERY ON. !??!?!??!?!?!??!? </b> So all of that time trying to recover/heal - she had a compression fracture. It's not surprising she got another one - since she did not know about the first. She is scheduled for a double <a href="https://www.webmd.com/osteoporosis/qa/what-is-kyphoplasty-and-how-is-it-used-to-treat-spinal-compression-fractures" target="_blank">kyphoplasty.</a> She has actually had a few of these through the years and they can be wonderful - are non-invasive - and often relief can be nearly immediate. </p><p>- During the time mom was in the hospital - in addition to working my day job - I was running to the hospital and the old house in order to manage the work being done there - which had finally been promised to be complete by the end of that week - but which, unfortunately, required my going there every other day or so to see what was still left to do. So that was also happening.</p><p>- Mom comes home by the end of that week and I think - sheesh - we're bound to see some improvements now. Alas in my last few weeks there - it didn't seem like the double back surgery brought her much relief. I continued to be scared maybe she was just going to be like this forever and there was nothing I could do to stop her pain.</p><p>- THANKFULLY we finally get the last minute touches done on the old house and hand over the keys to the realtor to put that house on the market!!!!! We receive an offer in 3 days! WOO HOOO!!! Evidently it's very much a sellers market right now in the suburbs. We Accept. We begin to await the paperwork/behind the scenes bank stuff to go through.</p><p>- About a week and a half before I was due to switch out with my brother again- one of his cats got sick...then the 2nd one did as well - requiring him to stick around and give them daily meds. So my 5 week stay became a 6 week stay (and he had to cancel a small get away he had been planning :( ). </p><p>MID SEPTEMBER:</p><p>- Scott returns to Pittsburgh and I return to Brooklyn. P.S. this entire time when he's away - I am taking care of his kitties (as I thankfully now live only 2 blocks away from him - the Universe works in mysterious ways...) - so now I return with the anxiety of hoping they both remain well after their courses of antibiotics - as I am checking on them every other day - not living with them - as I have my OWN kitty to live and love! Also - it's tough enough to get your OWN cat in a carrier or administer meds....doing it with cats that aren't YOURS - can be impossible.</p><p>- I end up REALLY making use of a week off work I take - and some AMAZING weather - making it out to leaf peep and apple pick - and really have quite a lovely time on my 6 weeks back in NYC (because I was in Pittsburgh for 6 weeks last time - Scott is now there for the same). I even pop into another protest or two.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YRD3D1BqmIVUg0bQfXLFyUWfKMLO3zViqYkAAa38HOx0M2ZedhrFdWYVd6titwQ5xcYQNjd26k4V4jgxDijZu9UXaYjNu3Z6A9w2hVuIkpF8mkxAh2nnzbzCIUO5OqsOOnN1N1obvLE/s750/122118033_10164345423725524_5197839330033042215_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YRD3D1BqmIVUg0bQfXLFyUWfKMLO3zViqYkAAa38HOx0M2ZedhrFdWYVd6titwQ5xcYQNjd26k4V4jgxDijZu9UXaYjNu3Z6A9w2hVuIkpF8mkxAh2nnzbzCIUO5OqsOOnN1N1obvLE/s320/122118033_10164345423725524_5197839330033042215_n.jpg" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCmCf0TP9qqbWkW5epl5nHJW7XWT8dPxGAzMwA6ke12FxC-naOc5HvzFGDI5gXhzqGLYbptcY8nWnigHefJ2qfp1jpBaLNNJjIrsAgrdqaRhBapp66uGb1x5lYeC_oiVxKxvD-C3dA4ic/s750/121261420_10164299441140524_9057474316727742052_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCmCf0TP9qqbWkW5epl5nHJW7XWT8dPxGAzMwA6ke12FxC-naOc5HvzFGDI5gXhzqGLYbptcY8nWnigHefJ2qfp1jpBaLNNJjIrsAgrdqaRhBapp66uGb1x5lYeC_oiVxKxvD-C3dA4ic/s320/121261420_10164299441140524_9057474316727742052_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /></div><p>- I must say - the 6 weeks I spent last with mom were some of the most challenging of my life in many ways I can't possibly detail here - but ultimately just being scared of her level of pain/discomfort and not knowing what to do - or whether she will be able to continue to live alone there in her lovely new home. I ADORE my mom and spending time with her - but I was <b>really</b> scared of what the future held when I returned.</p><p>- Somewhere in here we think we are going to have the closing on the sale of the old house around Nov. 4th.....</p><p>NOVEMBER </p><p>- We learn near the Closing date that the buyer's loan was NOT approved. Someone on his end is going to try to get it through again with some additional details that were not included the first time. We begin to wait anew.</p><p>- I return to Pittsburgh on the day Joe Biden is announced the winner of the election (thank you JESUS) as my brother drives back to Brooklyn. I am nervous - but from the instant I walk in the door I can see that Mom is WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY better! Like - WORLD'S different from how I left her! She is up and about - she is on less pain meds - WAY less groggy....she is....HER again! I was SOOOOO relieved - and a little confused why Scott never told me how much better she was! But he likely caught her on her upswing after I left and didn't see the huge shift. PHEW!!!!!!! <b>She is not pain-free - but she is doing really really well all around!</b></p><p>- Mom and I have an <b>excellent</b> November - and lots of fun like we used to - the only thing looming is whether or not this sale will go through on the house - because if it doesn't - OOF - it will be scary financially - waiting until the new year to get another buyer and play this waiting game again. We get to spend Thanksgiving together! In a year where most people aren't getting to see loved ones - this is one benefit to all of this insanity - we've been able to spend so much time with mom (even if it wasn't always relaxed and without anxiety for all of these other reasons).</p><p>- Just before Thanksgiving we find out the buyer's loan HAS BEEN ACCEPTED!!!!! But no closing date has been set. We are afraid to tell anyone again lest we jinx it. We continue waiting.</p><p>DECEMBER</p><p>- Scott drives back to Pittsburgh as I drive back to Brooklyn. All is fairly calm as we await the closing on the house. There is a little bit more of a run-around with this as it was set for a Friday - only to be cancelled just the night before - and set for supposedly Monday.....Monday comes and - <b>WE FINALLY CLOSE AND SELL THE DAMN HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEE HOOOOOOOO!!!! </b></p><p>- I had been noticing some signs around my brother's apartment that his girl kitty wasn't doing great...but I wasn't certain. She had some behavior changes and something was off. On the same Monday we closed on the house - it became obvious that I would need to bring her to the ER. It was a bit of a long night with my awaiting word (they don't let you inside the offices to wait due to covid - THANKFULLY there is a hotel across the street I could wait in as it was COLD AS HELL that night!). They were mostly connecting with Scott by phone to make decisions - and he decided to leave her overnight. The next morning unfortunately it was decided that she would need to be put down. Evidently she had lymphoma and chemo would only maybe give her another 3 months. It's so sad because she was only around 9 years old and really tough with him in another state and unable to be with her at the time. I've been trying to go over and visit the other guy more often since he's all alone in there now and a VERY social dude. Poor guy.</p><p>- I put up my first Christmas tree in YEARS! I am usually galavanting all over the city and New Jersey on caroling gigs + regular work all of this season so I am never home to ENJOY a tree. It has been delightful and I hope to make it happen from here on out even if I am busy as hell again in the future! I enjoyed a solo Christmas day which was just fine by me.....as I am headed back to Mom again at the end of this week for January. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpPIJT-K1l9wyn1RUr7dbaAYJlqZ-GqAggRGHQfApv_CvHhrAu7M6Jhie_nUSWBGkZd1zdMaHHGj6VQ6sKuV4-WE4yQa_ml_GFUt4n_RLU5RRiZ6I7jJngkGHz4LEKGIJtvIZqBm26m8/s750/133049647_10164616990965524_6167164486342253032_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpPIJT-K1l9wyn1RUr7dbaAYJlqZ-GqAggRGHQfApv_CvHhrAu7M6Jhie_nUSWBGkZd1zdMaHHGj6VQ6sKuV4-WE4yQa_ml_GFUt4n_RLU5RRiZ6I7jJngkGHz4LEKGIJtvIZqBm26m8/s320/133049647_10164616990965524_6167164486342253032_n.jpg" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoY-bos8Frd4D4rz8GQnnACFW6WVa2qPxFE-lj-Z2zucQm3m_76CcUXMMPlhhTTyfC8_t3LScUgoZZtNafntBLWnBdyuhHT24Y9Njr60ZfQ2Ckk3DRMSawYJu-M3m9flqWuVWjghu8teA/s1719/132031676_5505045862840723_7378764750025991419_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1719" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoY-bos8Frd4D4rz8GQnnACFW6WVa2qPxFE-lj-Z2zucQm3m_76CcUXMMPlhhTTyfC8_t3LScUgoZZtNafntBLWnBdyuhHT24Y9Njr60ZfQ2Ckk3DRMSawYJu-M3m9flqWuVWjghu8teA/s320/132031676_5505045862840723_7378764750025991419_o.jpg" /></a></div><br /></div><p></p><p>So there you go. Of course I have loads more that went on in/around this - like ALL of us did, with:</p><p>- The loss of the Broadway/the Arts in many ways and what that means to myself and all of my friends (those consistently working in the industry/those not but trying/those who just miss it as audience members) .</p><p>- The George Floyd protests: It <b>KILLED </b>me to not have participated physically in as many as I would have liked but even when I was back in the city I limited my exposure just in case - as I knew I couldn't help mom/relieve Scott if I caught Covid. But I do still pop in on them here and there. AMAZING that they are STILL GOING STRONG even in winter all these months later! But - as my education on social justice issues didn't just begin this summer - it's been <b>so</b> <b>wonderful </b>to have so many more join the fight. I have only amped up my efforts to continue to learn about all of this and about our true history/my part in perpetuating racism - attempting to take as many actions as I possibly can to help in my pursuit of being 100% anti-racist. But, possibly most importantly, I spend some quality time going through the <a href="https://www.meandwhitesupremacybook.com/" target="_blank">Me & the White Supremacy workbook</a> every week with a work group on Zoom.</p><p><br /></p><p>Good LORD I can't post ALL the pictures here - it would be SO DAMN MANY. Seriously. How do I pick? TOO DAMN MANY. MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zNNSpWKjxrmnoHab6Fisos4aI672RSkLuopcA1VBr0pATQbpbACUia6t6qXe1LecAJfHvLCvm-c4QOyTSCMROjW6o8obG4-IKiVDRTddSm3-lt9fuCrbOM7xGiK3ipwE6E1nXga27xw/s600/breonna-timeline-photo-1600783761.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zNNSpWKjxrmnoHab6Fisos4aI672RSkLuopcA1VBr0pATQbpbACUia6t6qXe1LecAJfHvLCvm-c4QOyTSCMROjW6o8obG4-IKiVDRTddSm3-lt9fuCrbOM7xGiK3ipwE6E1nXga27xw/s320/breonna-timeline-photo-1600783761.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>- The election: holy MOLY I can't believe I had to LEAVE my city just as the celebrations ERUPTED - but at least I experienced a wee 20 minute parade as I drove the rental car back to my house to pack for my drive!</p><p>- The Georgia Run-Offs (I wrote/sent out 100 postcards to Georgia Voters, donated, and did some phone-banking to get out that vote!!!). Admittedly I was a bit confused about the existence of these Run-Offs....as we don't hear about them all that often. Sadly I am not surprised to have learned this week about <a href="https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/anxiety/episodes/racist-history-georgia-runoff" target="_blank">The Racist History of Georgia's Run-offs.</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQE1IjyTrN6BqUDlWxNHv74q2TwlndSIa88K0d_W4a6Hlq1298HZ2zgxOaDRXycSOrJciAcPDY3PH3xNPwdK2TGvNkVUhDhfKwSvxYs_UMvSOzP0gTFFVjpv7Ztt7Cxr9PVmv2sCjOFQ/s750/133889031_10164621868760524_8333274656689226666_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQE1IjyTrN6BqUDlWxNHv74q2TwlndSIa88K0d_W4a6Hlq1298HZ2zgxOaDRXycSOrJciAcPDY3PH3xNPwdK2TGvNkVUhDhfKwSvxYs_UMvSOzP0gTFFVjpv7Ztt7Cxr9PVmv2sCjOFQ/s320/133889031_10164621868760524_8333274656689226666_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><b>- and just - EVERYTHING ELSE.....</b></p><p>So - if I ghosted you - this is why. Just as I yearned for more free time during my work day - this year also just found me yearning to be as BORED as a lot of other people said they were. Again - I get it - if I had no job I wouldn't be bored - I'd be TERRIFIED. I know how lucky I am to be working through all of this - to have had no hinderance on that when I then needed to work from my mother's home in Pittsburgh. I get it. I am SUPREMELY lucky. But man - boredom (along with being able to pay my rent/bills) sounds nice.</p><p>P.S. <a href="https://www.bhhs.com/thepreferredrealty-pa315/pa/260-yosemite-dr-penn-hills-15235/pid-2216777406?SearchType=Address&PropertyType=2%2C9%2C6%2C10%2C13%2C1%2C15%2C11%2C14&ListingStatus=1&NewListing=false&ApplicationType=FOR_SALE&PageSize=20&Page=1&lead=MemberKey%3D1101002%26LeadBrand%3D11413102971001910008" target="_blank">If anyone wants to see the only house I've ever known which we are saying goodbye to....... check out my childhood home!!! </a> We loved it so. </p><p>P.P.S. I almost forgot. I did manage to participate in some Zoom readings/recordings which are not available for sharing and created a few things in spite of everything above:</p><p>- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1w45oZr4LRU" target="_blank">sang this beautiousness with the Magical Gabby Ess</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/1w45oZr4LRU" width="320" youtube-src-id="1w45oZr4LRU"></iframe></div><p>- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ts9kZQVIuTQ" target="_blank">harmonized with a new friend I've yet to meet</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ts9kZQVIuTQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="ts9kZQVIuTQ"></iframe></div><p>- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bz-9o-zvJQY" target="_blank">I indulged my need for escape with this lil' bop </a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bz-9o-zvJQY" width="320" youtube-src-id="bz-9o-zvJQY"></iframe></div><p>- sang with my caroling family from afar for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8pgsQQ9OTR8" target="_blank">Christmas in July</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EXD4KidM-G8" target="_blank">a few</a> for the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KerU9TnL4-4" target="_blank">actual holiday season</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KerU9TnL4-4" width="320" youtube-src-id="KerU9TnL4-4"></iframe></div><p>- I even got to vent some of my frustrations through my alter ego Maggie with <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AsRBbHeZYtQ" target="_blank">this,</a> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/AsRBbHeZYtQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="AsRBbHeZYtQ"></iframe></div><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fJ3_cvQbLU" target="_blank">this, </a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/1fJ3_cvQbLU" width="320" youtube-src-id="1fJ3_cvQbLU"></iframe></div><p>and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zOl4DWT2F1o" target="_blank">this</a>!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zOl4DWT2F1o" width="320" youtube-src-id="zOl4DWT2F1o"></iframe></div><p>- and of course I never stop doodling - #cantstopwontstop </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdSpktIaWjInWWllVXEOFj6Jp1_14HnEUVJxTvlEIHPmz8KFPNWFi1_TkkrOP_r7h3MA0VngjOUs-IQJt7RbDiMGPsditicpbFBYneXOSH_EY8llhwJwDxkPD6boiYIkymi2cxVoONbKg/s750/120428968_10164260651665524_6321355315256782707_n-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdSpktIaWjInWWllVXEOFj6Jp1_14HnEUVJxTvlEIHPmz8KFPNWFi1_TkkrOP_r7h3MA0VngjOUs-IQJt7RbDiMGPsditicpbFBYneXOSH_EY8llhwJwDxkPD6boiYIkymi2cxVoONbKg/s320/120428968_10164260651665524_6321355315256782707_n-1.jpg" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkONLl_SobrwuZW96uND_8Jz0GPaaD9hFrMopw8EZxOJSL8i56hP6Y1q7UgYBqjp_wFyoQbYY9zIpQ6qJOE-ovSJ0Sx6enkwVL9f12LBT3JWIK3QQega43yKNgwOQQNijrWapqg1wfnFf/s960/doodle.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkONLl_SobrwuZW96uND_8Jz0GPaaD9hFrMopw8EZxOJSL8i56hP6Y1q7UgYBqjp_wFyoQbYY9zIpQ6qJOE-ovSJ0Sx6enkwVL9f12LBT3JWIK3QQega43yKNgwOQQNijrWapqg1wfnFf/s320/doodle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfeC_V4Pl1KbO5WxeWKMdDnmbtcBUTJySPXzFCx-rLsWXUGqkmIJPzJc7G9c6TVtXQej57MGZYgQCSRMGk48z_H7gAEkjY2sAI_eNsf8K0Q4YIosPVgs-2-Xvq4bCAPlHeZ6V7U2MHCYE/s750/123393854_10164379857945524_926448357401746766_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfeC_V4Pl1KbO5WxeWKMdDnmbtcBUTJySPXzFCx-rLsWXUGqkmIJPzJc7G9c6TVtXQej57MGZYgQCSRMGk48z_H7gAEkjY2sAI_eNsf8K0Q4YIosPVgs-2-Xvq4bCAPlHeZ6V7U2MHCYE/s320/123393854_10164379857945524_926448357401746766_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I literally have NO idea what the future holds. I don't know how long my brother and I will be making this commute. All I know is that this year has challenged every single one of us beyond our capacities - but some of us are still here to tell the tale. If you are - and you still don't fear Covid - WAKE THE FUCK UP. The long term effects beyond death are - as yet unknown. I know people who only JUST NOW are able to taste/smell food again 10 MONTHS AFTER HAVING HAD COVID. That's is a somewhat little inconvenience but it just I dare you to not have taste/smell for 10 months and you tell me how that feels. That's just ONE symptom with LONG-TERM effects long after a mild bout with Covid occurs. There are larger and more unknown extenuating symptoms people endure from this. The biggest sadness/exhaustion/frustration I've experienced overlaying ALL of what I wrote above is the notion that some people still think they HAVE to go get together with others. Some people refuse to "live in fear". Some people prioritize their needs above ANYone else's at the expense of those they are closest to who may suffer - but worse - at the expense of ALL OTHERS who they may never even be AWARE that they effect. I. Will. Never. Understand. There are people DYING FROM COVID who REFUSE to believe that they HAVE Covid - due to the ridiculous disinformation campaign the always-a-scam-artist-president continued to spread until he now needs to pretend he didn't lose the election. This was a chance for that monster to redeem himself - EASILY - but his narcissism made that impossible - yet again. I don't know how we will will ever recover from this MINDFUCK of a year - but I can assure you the answer lies in SCIENCE - and TAKING CARE OF EACHOTHER. Because I LOVE THE SHIT OUT OF ALL OF YOU DAMNIT.....</div></div></blockquote></blockquote><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Especially THIS FIERCE WOMAN:</div></div></blockquote></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLitgk7jRmCglGrKnlDpvLn_NsFXdXoOWhWzEfk6sffitO02f3n9hnl_bP4BXW9n8ujkOR3VHHMIn90JoQuIPUl6POmaEXILHZk3aujbbYc_LvIg0sA5iiJFlpZf6zNiTnLHeWHABoLd4/s750/81847247_10162785595390524_5924641230003634176_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLitgk7jRmCglGrKnlDpvLn_NsFXdXoOWhWzEfk6sffitO02f3n9hnl_bP4BXW9n8ujkOR3VHHMIn90JoQuIPUl6POmaEXILHZk3aujbbYc_LvIg0sA5iiJFlpZf6zNiTnLHeWHABoLd4/s320/81847247_10162785595390524_5924641230003634176_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p> And this fierce dude:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhVqGoxfxIvvM2AmVNufR6PXrYrEmHp3ktOss1mW1mN2KCFU8XxeHp_t6OAP2xxE35IVLLaWiZrXWIZBCfm8rTvx_mk1dOJhBHVKYZtaj9I4ptAfXfBOfR9bRQ7hySXhQJI3Go-7QfDw/s640/404311_10152196697570524_48612272_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhVqGoxfxIvvM2AmVNufR6PXrYrEmHp3ktOss1mW1mN2KCFU8XxeHp_t6OAP2xxE35IVLLaWiZrXWIZBCfm8rTvx_mk1dOJhBHVKYZtaj9I4ptAfXfBOfR9bRQ7hySXhQJI3Go-7QfDw/s320/404311_10152196697570524_48612272_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Let's take CARE of EACH OTHER people. PLEASE. If not now - when?<br /><p><br /></p><p><br /> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div></div></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div></div></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div></div></blockquote></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-7227581708443944192020-01-03T11:26:00.000-08:002020-01-03T11:26:49.431-08:00Wait - what just happened? Reading everyone's years/decades in review posts has inspired me to do the same. I am still undecided on sharing this as there will be some very personal things included but I still want to be as honest as possible. This wasn't on my to do list and rarely is at the end of a year/decade. While I don't begrudge those that love them - resolutions have never quite been my thing. I make attempts/changes throughout the entire year so as not to put so much pressure on those made at the start of the new one. When I would think on the past decade I found myself a little startled at all I hadn't been thinking of and started feeling like it might be helpful for me to put it all into perspective if only for myself.<br />
<br />
The decade started out pretty great on my end! I performed my first solo cabaret at The Duplex to a sold out crowd and worked quite a bit that entire year both on performing projects in the city as well as at my old theatre home away from home upstate at the Theater Barn where I ended up doing 3 shows that summer. After flailing a wee little bit for some of the decade prior with older once-strong friendships having drifted out of my grasp I had found myself a new little handful of close friends and was having a ball. 2010 is when I discovered and was gifted the perfect set of BABY ARMS!! Guys....2010 was the birth of BABY ARMS!<br />
<br />
Shortly after the start of the decade - I met and started singing with the AWESOMENESS of the Tara Lynne Band which provided more hours of enjoyment than I could ever properly explain here. I discovered more of what I was capable of as a singer and (semi)percussionist. This magic is only possible when you work with people who truly believe in you as much as you do them. We all brought out the best in each other and that mutual respect and appreciation elevated each one of us. The time we spent together laughing, creating music, supporting one another, LAUGHING and being plain ole' whackadoodles were some of the best times I will ever have in my entire life. We even recorded an awesome ALBUM with many of your generous help (THANK YOU)! Eventually, after moving out to Jersey (more info below), and commuting to Brooklyn for at least a year for all our rehearsals/gigs I did have to say goodbye to this wonderful band as it had gotten to be too much. Thankfully we remain friends to this day and I still love them and the time I had with them so so much!<br />
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I had started out the decade extremely single (as I tend to be) yet I was also coming to terms with the fact that not every one is meant to find someone and spend forever with them and that this was honestly FINE. It was FREEING! It felt quite awesome to no longer be thinking of that "someday" with "that person" I might actually never meet. I was a bit irked at a society which taught me to always be looking for that and expecting that it was guaranteed to happen and then it would 100% never end. If anything - life has taught me that nothing is forever and even the most "perfect" couples/relationships don't. I had finally reflected on all of the years I was single and sad about it as such a huge waste of time. I was finally thinking about how a future with just me would be and I was diggin' it! I would try to explain this to people and without fail - my revelations were ALWAYS met with pity and assurances that of course I would meet someone. They just weren't listening - it didn't MATTER if I did!<br />
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Shortly after kicking things off with TLB - low and behold and much to my surprise - I fell in love. Hard and fast. It is far too much and too personal to share in this format on this platform and I could never do it all justice in brief. I can't possibly express how much good we had out there and how there was still happiness and deep love throughout. That's what made it so hard/confusing. Let's just say that - I moved out of NYC (where I still very much wanted to live) and deep into Jersey for an opportunity at a life with someone I was madly in love with. The pressure that type of move put on our relationship to continue being what it was at the start ultimately must have been too much. I am not sure. I still don't quite understand what happened with this situation. All I know is that things changed and I got very depressed about it. The deep depression was also a result of not discussing it with anyone. I was embarrassed and thought we'd get through it together so why discuss with friends or family? The few friends I would have discussed it with were all dealing with some pretty big things themselves and either weren't available or I didn't want to burden them with it. This all caused my first true depression. This was evidently too much for one of my closest friendships to weather so on top of this partner breakup I also had a best friend breakup. I will spare you of details here and believe it or not - THIS is the shortest possible story for me about it. Obviously things didn't work out and that relationship ended. I do not regret the move even though things did not work out. It was absolutely what I was supposed to do at that time and I jumped in and gave that relationship everything I knew how to give it. <br />
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Other things happened while I was living out there. Sadly, my sweet kitty Maverick got sick shortly after I settled in out there and while we were able to make him feel better for a little while - his time with me did come to an end. He was my boy of 16.5 years. I still miss him every day. As soon as I moved out to Jersey I booked an off-broadway show in the city and worked the most as a performer I ever had in one year following it! I did have the WONDERFUL opportunity to work at The Growing Stage and finally get my Equity card at this lovely theatre 10 minutes from my house! This was exciting for so many reasons not the least of which is that - after 10 years working in theatre in/around New York - I had started to think this just would never happen.<br />
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So very middle of the decade found me deeply depressed and starting all over again in NYC. I lived on my brother's futon and then in his (very large) closet for a wee bit and then found a place back in Astoria. I thought my depression was situational and after our relationship ended and I was back in my city I would start to feel like myself again. This would take much longer than I had anticipated. I hesitate to list this part for fear it will seem attention seeking but honestly it's my truth and it's a massive part of what I experienced in this decade. I'm still trying to process it all so to leave it out would feel wrong. Who the hell knows - maybe it will be useful to someone else going through something similar? The few closest friendships I had had morphed into new things as everyone was going through their respective hardships/lives. I tried calling on the old friends who had painfully drifted years before and found no one was in a space to be there for me. This was hardest of all and honestly continues to be. I found myself starting fresh in every single way and was frustrated that I wasn't starting to feel like myself again yet. At my absolute lowest and with zero confidence in any area I needed to go out and make new friends. Making new friends and then venting to them is not ideal (especially when I was afraid it was my venting that had pushed all of my other close friends away). My mom and I have always been close but she grew to be about the only one I could vent to anymore. So, while I did make new friends and while old ones were definitely there when they could be, I really felt so very alone through all of this. That also is a symptom of the depression but it definitely was a different experience than I had ever had in any previous breakups/hardships (which of course were never as hard as this). It made me so grateful for all of the years I did have consistent and close friends to talk to and sort things out with - but how had I lost most of them? What did I do to cause this? How could I change whatever it was about me that made people no longer want to be close? This type of thinking is inevitable and useful in life - but also not helpful with the depression I was already amidst. My mom even had some major back issues/surgeries throughout all this time as well which my brother and I would spend time in Pittsburgh to help her out with as we could. Freelance work was tougher to come by then it had been when I was younger....I was barely making ends meet. I randomly fell down a flight of stairs in my sleep while staying at a friends' home and broke my foot. Not great when ALL of your freelance work is on your feet + you live in NYC and have to walk everywhere! Then Trump was elected. It was fun.<br />
<br />
Shortly after the holidays that year I started a temp to perm job at a new small company for a man who 100% supported me auditioning and pursuing performing jobs while I worked for him. I found a Unicorn of a job! This did WONDERS for my ever-slowly heightening mood. Having some financial stability while also having permission to continue to pursue my dreams was pure magic in absolutely every way. It took a lot of pressure off of auditions and I could go to more of them as a result of being in the union + not having to choose between ones due to work. I was able to save some money and move into a lovely apartment with only one roommate (I love my old ones but 4 people to one bathroom in a place directly underneath the subway was not perfection). This job enabled me to enjoy the AWESOMENESS of Mark Fisher Fitness, buy new headshots, get myself some Actor Therapy, start training with an incredible new voice teacher who is blowing my mind, and start doing other fun stuff around the city I never had any money to do: seeing more shows, get my nails did (you're welcome for all my pics), and going to the Jazz Age Lawn Party...AND FINALLY LEAVE THIS CONTINENT AND GO TO LONDON!!!!!<br />
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Having my Equity card is WONDERFUL for many reasons but it made it tougher to book work (as it tends to do for non-dancer folk like me). I had to say goodbye to my home away from home at The Theater Barn where I was fortunate to do some really awesome shows over a full decade of summers! I was so grateful for pretty consistent work at The Growing Stage while I lived out near them and even booked a new theatre for my resume reprising one of my favorite roles as The Drowsy Chaperone! For better or worse - I never stopped auditioning all through my healing after the breakup and was getting some callbacks but not seeing any bookings. This always sucks but having the new Unicorn job which allowed all of the auditions reinvigorated me and it took the pressure off of booking work. Then BOOM - the end of 2018 found me on stage again at The Fireside Theatre in "Elf" and I could NOT have been giddier!<br />
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2019 did not bring me any official stage show experiences which never feels great - but I did do some awesome readings, voiced/puppeteered some awesome characters (starting in 2018) with Max's Fancy Monsters, and started singing out with a singer/songwriter I've always adored (Gabby Ess)! To say that I'm okay with all of the great auditions I had this past year without any coming to fruition would be a lie. It's never okay when it feels like you are getting no signals from the Universe that you are on the right path and it feels like you are just spinning your wheels in the mud - but I've been here before and I know this place a little too well. It only gets harder with every year I'm at it but as long as I still want to - and can - I will pursue it. <br />
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This decade has brought with it many lessons and revelations. All of which are very much works in process:<br />
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- I have been inspired to be even more politically active and have gone to countless rallies/protests/marches after having enjoyed a mini break there for a few years. I have learned so much about racial injustice and white privilege. I have yearned for ways to create actual change outside of posts on Facebook, discussions with friends and family, and tagging along to other people's events. I have yet to figure this out but continue to try. Mostly I just feel overwhelmed with all of the good I want to do in the world that I do almost nothing and then get mad at myself for it.<br />
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- Don't even get me started on the #metoo revelations I continue to have.<br />
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- There is no way to detail all of this now but I discovered some ideas about body positivity and health at every size which has completely turned me upside-down in terms of my body issues. This would be another whole post and I am not necessarily in the most positive place about all of this but I have learned too much about the futility of dieting and in it I've revealed just how unhealthy my relationship with my own body is. There is WAY too much to unpack here but let's just say that I am on a path of discovery with this that I never anticipated needing so badly but it may just be the key to many other parts of my well-being.<br />
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- I understand that friendships change and nothing is forever. I mostly understand that everyone is going through their own shit and often barely have the capacity to handle theirs let alone anyone else's. As a result I no longer expect that from anyone and learned I could get through the worst time in my life so far with mostly just myself (and my mom). I don't want to ignore the fact that I did have a handful of folks from time to time but on a day to day basis in the state I was in - it was really rough. I still have a lot of hurt I am working through about the friends who are no longer in my life and I still try very hard to understand the part I played in that. I can drive myself crazy with self-reflection but I genuinely hope I have been there for people when they needed me most and I hope I can continue to be. And if I'm ever not - I hope if they confront me about it - I will be able to genuinely say I'm sorry and then do better.<br />
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I'm still single as the day is long and find myself returning to the revelations of the beginning of the decade that if it's just me and me for the rest of my life that's just fine. It's honestly terrifying to think of going through all of that again. I don't mean that I wouldn't but man - if it means a deep isolating depression where I temporarily lose a lot of the bits of me I love the most and when I finally put myself back together I'm basically a whole different person with some of the same ingredients...I'm in no rush. That doesn't mean I regret it - it just means - sheesh....how the hell do some people do this so much more often than I?<br />
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I am so grateful for the new friends I've made, those acquaintances I was able to become closer with through this, the old friends who I found my way back to, and all who were there for me whenever they were able. It is impossible to express just how much I appreciate each and every one. I am grateful to have gone through the depression because I now have a much fuller understanding of what my friends and family with it go through. I now have a much better sense of how to make space for those in that state of mind than I ever could have before. My brother and I have grown closer as a result. This decade may have been the biggest in terms of growth (the toughest ones usually are I guess) even if I am still figuring a lot of it out. Writing this out was helpful for me to acknowledge this. If you've made it this far - thank you very much. I needed to do this for me and I am not sure whether I needed to share it. It's highly likely very few people will even read most of it anyway so what the hell? Regardless (and even if you skimmed) I wish you the very best year/decade of your life!JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-25751852716415139102014-02-03T23:01:00.001-08:002014-02-03T23:12:14.354-08:00I can't believe I am writing about the Superbowl.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Football wasn't the only lackluster part of this year's Superbowl. The commercials were absolutely unworthy of mention minus a fun one from Radioshack that - while incredible - really wasn't a "Superbowl Commercial" as we are used to. Maybe it's because all sorts of Superbowl commercials were released online in the weeks before the actual event - which makes them - NOT Superbowl commercials - since I could release a "Superbowl Commercial" online every day until next year and it doesn't make it one. Aside from Radioshack - there is only one other that I can even remember - it is, of course, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=443Vy3I0gJs" target="_blank">Coke's controversial ad with people singing "America the Beautiful" in various languages</a>. I have SO many things to say about this yet I feel compelled to spare you - as so much of it shouldn't even need to be said. All I know is that I watched this commercial in the presence of a room full of family friends who clearly represent the majority of this country's opinon. And by "opinion" I politely decline pointing out their intelligence or willingness to think beyond their very first impulse of "How DARE they sing 'America the Beautiful' in another language!". Honestly - I had a jolt when that reaction struck me - but immediately it was replaced with thought - a productive one that immediately informed me that many people were going to be appalled. I never expected I was sitting in a room full of them - nor did I expect that so very many would feel exactly the same and be bold enough to admit their ignorance! A close friend with me quickly reasoned that this might not have been the best choice for a commercial for a Superbowl audience. He was content with that - to put the fault on Coke for their poor choice. In many ways - I do not disagree.<br />
<br />
When you awaken to the controversy on The Facebook - you realize what a bad advertising choice this was for Coke but a fantastic progressive choice it was for them. While it may or may not prove to sell more Coke - they took a chance. They saw the country moving forward enough to create this conversation. It's a conversation I literally am astounded to even be having - but they truly believed that enough people already "get it" that this might be a good move. At the end of the day you really have to remember - they aren't here to change minds - they are here to sell a product. They really thought this would appeal to the majority - or - if not - at least stir an exciting conversation. And it is. They actually spent money on this to air during the actual Superbowl and not simply on Youtube the week prior.<br />
<br />
I hate to have to type it out but I am writing a blog on it so:<br />
<br />
1. America is MADE of people from every country on the face of the earth - we did not all just magically pop up on this land.<br />
2. Several of those people had to learn English and live in a brand new land in order to enjoy the freedoms many of their ancestors fought for - something most "Americans" never will do. Try moving to a brand new country and lasting more than a few months - especially in countries with less freedoms than USA.<br />
3. People singing about how beautiful America is in any language at all is joyous! It's testament to their genuine LOVE of America's beauty and it's PEOPLE (wha???). <br />
4. How many of you are here BECAUSE of your ancestor's coming here confronting much more hatred than these folks now?<br />
5. It is not a threat to you or your "American-ness". It is a beautiful celebration of it! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sheesh,<br />
<br />
Really?<br />
<br />JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-89976863225857750952013-05-03T19:16:00.000-07:002013-05-03T19:16:12.950-07:00Just call me "Tubs".Have you ever felt absolutely disgusted with your own body in general
and then mortified by what you see when you look at pictures of yourself
- only to revisit those photos years later and WISHED you could be that
thin again because you are currently feeling exactly the same way or
worse? Were you ever actually as heavy as you thought? Will you EVER
be happy with your body as it is right. now.? I rarely have been. I
love food too much to be anorexic -- but never really binged enough to
need to purge.... but I definitely have a disorder. A body disorder?
Is that a thing? Do all women have that here in America? I apologize
as I realize I am just asking a lot of questions -- and I am not
examining uncharted territory by any means. We know the deal -- our
culture does not appear to welcome real women's natural bodies for some
bizarre reason. Of course you find out in reality that nearly every
body type is desirable to someone - somewhere....and because there are A
LOT of someones all over this country and the world -- we are actually
JUST FINE. Two of my most satisfying & supportive relationships have occurred when I have felt "overweight" (including right now). Realizing this still doesn't help my own body image and that
is just silly. <br />
<br />There was one point in my life I acquired some peace on this issue.
I bought a book, "The Idiots Guide to Yoga". I read a lot of the book
and looked at the pictures -- but didn't really practice any of the
positions. One thing that really resonated with me was the information
about it's connection it's Buddhist philosophies of eliminating negative
thoughts, words, & actions - to others - but most importantly to
yourself. For the first time in my life I realized how terrible I had
been to myself all those years. If any friend of mine were saying the
things that would go through my head every time I caught a glimpse of
myself in a mirror to me -- I would definitely rethink that friendship.
So I did the same for myself. That summer was terrific for me. I had
some extra time on my hands and was able to fit in truly mini workouts
almost all week (20 minutes a day -- no kidding)....but I definitely was
eating whatever the hell I wanted....and I lost 10 pounds in a month!
This was many moons ago -- and I have experienced a few gains and losses
since but my happiest moments with myself have been when I did NOT
permit these negative thoughts/words to myself about myself. When I let
myself truly enjoy everything I ate -- whether "good for me" or
"bad"....and didn't punish myself. I have maintained a very happy
weight with myself using this "method". <br />
<br />So - why am I writing about this? I have recently been rehearsing
for the brand new Off-Broadway production of <a href="http://spandexmusical.com/" target="_blank">"Spandex the Musical"</a>. I
suppose that may explain a lot right there, but for those of you who
weren't around in the 80's.....aerobics was the fitness craze which
swept the nation. The wardrobe of choice was a breathable -- stretchy
fabric called Spandex! My role in this musical is that of Linda, a
housewife/mother in her 40s who has lost her figure - but mostly her
confidence and herself. She finds her power once again through the
inspiring friends she meets at aerobics and while competing in the
National Crystal Light Aerobic Olympics - Hosted by Alan Thicke -<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P75hd284E9Y" target="_blank"> inspired by real-life events!</a> I cannot tell you the mental ride I have
been on with this experience. From the callbacks to getting cast - to
reading the script and realizing my character is referred to as
"Tubs".....I have very conflicting highs and lows. Winning this role
feels amazing as a performer -- but terrible as a woman. What a bizarre
dichotomy for an actress. Now - I am also not 40...and people claim I
don't look 35 (which I am) -- but I have been playing that (& older)
for several years now! So I already am aware that casting often isn't
100% true to character descriptions but I can't help finding this
experience so bizarre. While I know my body is far from thin -- it
definitely isn't what I see when I envision "Linda"...yet I could see
why I might be perfect for her at the same time. <br />
<br />This experience is unique for me on so many levels -- one of which
is the need for me to wear workout clothes in rehearsal 5 days a week -
with the end result being in actual Spandex -- something I don't think I
OWNED in the 80's because I did not think I would look right in it
(even at 8 to pre-teen I didn't think I could pull it off!). You stare
at yourself in the mirror as you rehearse and think terrible thoughts
about all your rolls -- and wonder what other people might think of you
(who clearly are paying no attention as they are doing the same thing to
themselves). Only this time -- every time I caught a glimpse of
myself and thought of how terrible I looked -- all I could think of was
how right that made me for "Linda". I have NEVER felt so justified in
this body I have. Never. It is exciting and uncomfortable all at
once. I have been attempting to lose at least 10 pounds for the past 2
years....and thought this might jumpstart that crusade. The day we
started rehearsals - I started another "diet" --- and hoped that - come
opening night I could do the show without my "sucky-inny-clothes", as I
call them --- otherwise known as "Spanx". I thought this was when I was
going to lose that 10 pounds. How weird it felt though --- as I was
now cast as someone called "Tubs"....maybe I shouldn't? Well -- have no
fear --- the hectic schedule has made it very difficult for me to keep
up with my diet -- and that weight has not come off and I still despise
my belly every time I see it in the mirror. <br />
<br />I have been dying to share this experience with people....not
because I have some incredible insight to share -- but because I feel
like most women with similar feelings never get to have this type of
experience. Most American women never feel 100% perfect in the body
they are in. And that is a shame. I still don't -- but I get to as I
play "Linda" - who is taking control of her life and getting in shape.
Sure, she is doing aerobics - but I like to think she is finding her
success the only way I think anyone does - by eliminating those negative
thoughts which sabotage your efforts and truly loving and being kind to
yourself. It all reminds me of how we do have the power within
ourselves to alter those thoughts which hinder our well-being. If I had
lost that 10 pounds 1 or 2 years ago -- as I had been attempting, and
my body looked like I wish it did -- would I have booked this show?
Probably not. <br />
<br />I won't lie -- I am still 100% terrified by any publicity shots that
are coming --- or just at the thought of any of my friends and family
seeing my imperfectness on display in Spandex costumes in the theatre
district just Off-Broadway! After several years doing some of my best
work outside of NYC -- now my imperfections will be the most accessible
in whatever press we get and obviously visible on stage every show. I
am uncomfortable with every inch of this -- but doing my best to
identify with being so "right" to play Linda -- a sweetheart of a woman
who has to learn to love herself just as she is - right now - something
we should all be doing - all the time.<br />
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JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-67436057354802885622013-02-27T01:19:00.001-08:002013-02-28T23:00:38.617-08:00Here Comes the Sun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You all know the story. Girl visits NYC and it's love at first sight.
All she wants is to move to NYC and perform on Broadway. She just hopes
that New York will take her in and be kind. Well, okay - anyone who
saw my cabaret knows that isn't exactly what I had expected. I knew it
would be really difficult - but hell if that didn't excite me even
more! The first time I set foot in NYC a pigeon shit on my head but I
didn't care. I expected it. So I moved here and started my NYC
romance. Like every exhilarating love affair - I found passion,
inspiration, & creativity with just the right amount of hurdles and
pigeon shit laced throughout to keep it a constant challenge/chance for
growth. New York forced me to evolve in ways I never dreamed I would
and learn exactly what I'm made of. Though I knew my dream of Broadway
would be difficult - I feel a little silly now saying that somehow -
deep inside - I never doubted it would happen. Here I sit - nearly 11
years later and well, let's just say that dream feels 100% as
challenging as it did the day that pigeon shit on my head. People often
would ask me in those first few years whether I was thinking about
giving L.A. a try - or did I miss Pittsburgh? My mom, of course, knew
me best and could tell within that first year or so that I wasn't coming
home - that NYC was going to be my home for a very long time. She saw
my love for the city and continues - to this day - to support me fully
in my pursuit of my dreams here. All I have ever wanted, that I just knew
was in my grasp if I did the work, was living in NYC and
performing. That was one thing I was sure of.<br />
<br />
One thing I've never
been sure of is whether or not I'd ever find someone to share my life
with. Of course I grew up expecting that "someday I'll meet
someone" - because that is just what is supposed to happen - but as I
grew older it really felt like that part of my life might never be like
it's "supposed" to happen - and I honestly started to just accept this.
I knew I was likely going to live in NYC for the rest of my life and
would most certainly be that crazy lady on the train with weird glasses
wearing leopard pajama pants and talking to herself. And that was okay
by me. My, how life can through you for a loop sometimes! Without
getting too crazy into the nitty or the gritty -- the important part
here is that I did meet someone. And that someone loves me. And I am
crazy about that someone. And that someone lives out in New Jersey.
So....guess who's moving to Jersey? That's right - it's ME! I know - I
am as stunned as you are - which is the point of this post. It wasn't
an easy decision and again - neither the gritty nor the nitty is
necessary here but....the EXCITING thing is - I am so giddy to begin my
life with this guy without all the commuting!!! The thing I haven't
been as excited about is leaving my NYC. That is the tough part. There
are so many things I am frightened of as I prepare to make my commute
to my city-life sightly more difficult.<br />
<br />
So there I am - the day before I
am to move 98% of my belongings from Queens to Jersey --- and I hop on
the subway to meet my Jersey boy in the city for a "Final Saturday as an Official New Yorker" dinner type thing. I am a little melancholy - as I
have been with all my recent NY activities - when I hear an accordion
player step onto my subway car and start playing/singing "Here
Comes the Sun" by The Beatles. Now - if you live in the city - you know
there are a cast of familiar characters you see on your trains -- every
once in a while there is someone new - but generally it's the same
folks with the same old schtick. Well, I have never seen this dude and I
have rarely - if ever - heard any of them playing this song. More
importantly - this is one of the FEW songs my Jersey boy sang lead on in
his old band. I couldn't help myself as a smile spread from ear to ear
and I heard the comforting words "It's all right.". I begin to get out
a dollar for this guy (which I try to do when they genuinely make me laugh/smile). He had stopped playing and collected from someone
else - but was on his way over to me. My head was down as I struggled
in my pocket when suddenly he is hovering over me and loudly singing
directly at me "SUN SUN SUN - HERE IT COMES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SUN SUN SUN -
HERE IT COMES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I gasped and giggled as he stopped and
apologized for scaring me. I gave him my buck and then he remained
there - playing some romantic tune you'd hear if you and your love were
being serenaded by an accordion at a little Italian restaurant. But I
was all alone. It was perfectly ridiculous. All of it. It was one of
my favorite types of NYC moments - I hadn't had one like
that in a while. And it came just when I needed it. It felt like my
"old flame" NYC was giving the thumbs up to this move with it's
blessings - reminding me that it will always be right here and that I
will always be just as much a part of it. Only now it would be my
(slightly) long-distance commute.<br />
<br />
So that girl moves to New Jersey. And it's all right.... JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-91581113789536847552012-12-31T01:37:00.002-08:002013-01-03T22:23:30.512-08:00Yes I Hear the People Sing But What About the Rest of the Music?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I know you need another "Les Miserables" movie review like you need
another Facebook status mentioning someone's gym habits or other menial
events but I am compelled to write this. I am not going to summarize
the plot of the movie like other reviews partially because you can google it and mostly because very few people are going to even read this.<br />
<br />
Here it is - down to brass tacks (whatever the
hell that means). I hesitate to
review actual performances for a few reasons - the most important of
which is that my problem with this film has nothing to do with the many
performers who clearly had passion for the project and the desire and
some of the talent to pull it off. The least important being that it is
obvious that the casting of this and every musical theatre film (and
often Broadway productions) these days has about 1% to do with appropriateness
of age/type or vocal ability and 110% with star names. I know the
deal. As a musical theatre lover I am giddy when they make a movie
musical but not because I fool myself into thinking it will ever do the
actual show full justice. I expect to be less than thrilled. But that
does not mean I go to the theatre jaded and ready to despise it. I am
giddy they are making them since that means MANY more people may have
the opportunity to fall in love with them like I did. I was raised on
movie musicals. I don't even mean the original ones of Gene Kelly and
Judy Garland. I mean the ones like "Annie", "Oliver", & "Little
Shop of Horrors", "West Side Story" and all of the Rodgers &
Hammerstein too....but also some of the most terribly acted and just
barely sung "A Chorus Line" and more doozies! "A Chorus Line" is like
that phrase - "A face only a mother could love." Only a girl who would
eventually find her life's dream in those movies of one day performing
on Broadway could love that film. But they knew what was important.
The music. When I watched "Les Miserables" last night I was appalled at
how embarrassed this director was of the music --- the accompaniment
was often barely audible and rarely matched what the performers were
doing with their tempos in their lyrics. Sometimes it was as if the
actors themselves were embarrassed of their singing - not actually
belting (as some here are able) or singing in a full legit sound (as a
few here were able) as this music was meant to be sung for fear that
audiences there for Wolverine and The Gladiator might not like it. I do
not blame the performers for this at all. It is clear that someone's
idea for this film was not to make it so musical-like which is especially off the mark with a show which is ENTIRELY MUSIC. The entire heartbeat of the show was 100% missing. The performers had passion individually but there was no glue holding them all together. I am aware that
director Tom Hooper attempted to utilize a wonderful idea for the
filming of these songs - which is not normally used for movie musicals -
and had live singing with the live accompaniment fed into their ears to
allow for a more natural and real live performance feel. I love this
idea and am horribly disheartened at the end result. I think this is
the key to why this film is a flop. The orchestrations do NOT match the
live singing in tempo or in the physical volume of the audio tracks -
ever. I do not know if an orchestra was conducted to match the film and
I can only imagine how difficult that process would have been. All I
know is that it was a necessary part of the process that seemed to have
been rushed through. Either that and/or those who then synced the
vocals with the orchestrations in tempo and audio levels dropped all
their balls. As a result, the entire movie was a really slow and boring
disgrace. I couldn't even hear the singing at the very beginning and
then I barely ever heard the accompaniment throughout. If I knew
nothing about this show the only thing I'd know when it ended was how
happy I was.<br />
<br />
I'd rather not get to detailed about opinions of the cast though I did enjoy Samantha Barks' "Eponine" and yes, Anne Hathaway had some magical moments as a too young Fantine. While well cast - Sasha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter appeared to have been inappropriately directed to be in a Tim Burton film rather than into the broad comedic relief of their actual characters in this show. The awful muppet sounds of Russell Crow's singing are the LEAST of
this film's worries.<br />
<br />
While I fully expected to be slightly disappointed with this film --
as I am about several movie musicals - the one thing I can always walk
out saying is that I am just glad they are making them. While I hope
they continue making them - I hope no one ever makes the same mistakes
they made in this one. Go back to lip synching if you are too lazy to
do the rest of the work. And stop apologizing for the fact that it's a
musical --- let it be one. SCADS of people LOVE them - and more will
begin to if you remember this. JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-77263833224865890222012-06-03T12:55:00.003-07:002012-06-03T12:58:02.791-07:00I am a Shellac Addict and this is my story.When I was a young girl I became instantly obsessed with my nails. It
all began when Mrs. Dinapole, my kindergarten teacher would read us
stories and I saw her pretty claws turning those pages. I don't think I
knew what any of the tales were about because all I could do was stare
at those beautiful red talons tapping the pages and pointing at each
corresponding colorful illustration. I headed straight home to play
teacher where I would place the pen caps from my markers on each of my
fingers and open up a book to pretend to read to my imaginary students.
As soon as I was able I began purchasing every nail polish color that
existed on this planet - and several that appeared to be from others.
My collection was legendary. My nails were always painted. Maintaining
my nails was one of the most important things to me and I somehow had
the time to devote to this. I remember selecting which musical
instrument I was to learn in 3rd grade. Though I desperately wanted to
play the violin - I chose the flute instead - so I wouldn't have to cut
my nails to hold down the strings. Of course when I got older and had
more money to waste - I would keep myself in acrylic tips - even
learning how to do them myself at home. Eventually - poor college
student life took over and that all fell by the wayside. In my adult
years - I have found it utterly impossible to have the patience to paint
my nails on any sort of regular basis - knowing that they are going to
chip within a day no matter what type of topcoat I use. Even when I
splurge for a mani/pedi - I am sad knowing in a few days the chipped
paint will be catching on something and I will have to spend time to
remove it from my fingernails because it looks ridiculous. It was
actually just a few short years ago that I allowed my mother to toss my
gigantic tub of nail polishes I had collected throughout the years out -
even though I knew most of them probably had gotten gross and unusable -
they really represented quite a bit of my funds growing up! You know
my priorities changed when I started playing the guitar and am
constantly chopping off my left hand (always longer/stronger) nails in
order to be better able to play. Well something has come along to
change all that. It's called Shellac. Now I suppose this is a random
blog post - since this isn't a beauty blog and especially since it has
been a REALLY long time since I have posted one - but I've been dying to
share my love of Shellac for a few months now. So for those of you
entirely uninterested in girly nail polishy things - you've probably
gotten all you can get from this post. For the rest of you
beauty/makeup freaks....read on...<br />
<br />
Just in case you haven't the foggiest notion what I am talking about: <a href="http://www.cnd.com/Products/Color/shellac-intro.aspx" target="">Shellac</a> is a brand of gel nail polish which is activated by U.V. light
(via special lamps for your hands) which cures the gel to a shiny and
immovable manicure that lasts for at least 14 days. Mine usually lasts
close to 3 weeks! The polish dries within a few minutes and you are out
of the salon digging through your purse and picking your wedges with
not one shred of fear about ruining your manicure. The removal process
is something you can do yourself if you need be. All you need is to
wrap or soak your nails in regular nail polish remover (with acetone)
and once you've soaked long enough you can gently scrape it off with an
orange wood stick. This removal process doesn't really damage your
nails but it definitely always takes a little longer than they advertise
- whether I am in the salon or doing it myself. Shellac does cost a
wee bit more than your average NYC cheap-ass manicure - but the fact
that I usually have mine for 3 weeks makes up for that. I can usually
find places that charge about $35 - $40 for a basic application. It can
cost more if you want special designs or a french manicure - as is
usually the case. Salons don't usually charge you anything to remove
your last Shellac when you are paying for a new one. The jury is still
out on some of the naysayers who may warn that the time under the
U.V.lights may be a danger to your skin. As a fair-skinned and
semi-freckled ghost - I tend to hide from the sun and do everything I
can to steer clear of skin cancer. So I am going to keep an eye on what
people have to say about this - but as far as I can learn - this
doesn't pose any more risk than driving a car without sunscreen or
gloves on.<br />
<br />
So yes, I am literally addicted to it now. The only problem I have
with it is that they really don't have a large range of colors to select
from. They've got the generic reds/pinks/brownish colors covered - and
some really neutral tans and whites - but only 3-5 or so "funky"
colors. I dig the funky. When you are selecting something to look down
and admire for 2-3 weeks though - you want to REALLY love it. How many
times can I get my nails painted the same 3-5 funky-ish colors?? Now
there are several other gel manicure brands - O.P.I. makes one called
<a href="http://www.opi.com/" target="">Axxium</a> which has tons more awesome colors to select from. The only
problem is that it doesn't last as long as Shellac - and requires a
special solution in order to remove it - so you HAVE to have a salon do
it. Plus - they say it is harsher on your natural nails - and you don't
want to ruin those just because you are obsessed with long-lasting
polish. So I am presently giving my nails a break from the Shellac -
mainly because I am no longer inspired by any of their color options and
I have to pay extra to have fun designs created with the boring color
selection. But now I've started trying to apply regular polish again -
because I am addicted to seeing something lovely on my nails! Suddenly I
am 12 years old again - waiting for my nails to dry and looking for new
colors to dump my money on. Grrr...I wish they all existed on Shellac!<br />
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Here are some shots of my Shellac experiences:<br />
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Here was my latest - getting funky because they need more color selections! This was two different colors plus a glitter over everything to make it even more interesting.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHkpimbV8_gTeuOePC2gHqzZgMxfkfFlqkgywCr1bGOmf2ZC64LMSTyg0PnB7s9nf6aJliuIA0aw-yjznvyMibjU_lBRclwyrUbDcERxMucN6PPFO4wRYwecX4fxNlSQUhWh9CoIZcb3Q/s1600/funkyglitterdesign.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHkpimbV8_gTeuOePC2gHqzZgMxfkfFlqkgywCr1bGOmf2ZC64LMSTyg0PnB7s9nf6aJliuIA0aw-yjznvyMibjU_lBRclwyrUbDcERxMucN6PPFO4wRYwecX4fxNlSQUhWh9CoIZcb3Q/s320/funkyglitterdesign.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I generally like to keep my nails shorter in case I feel like practicing my gee-tar. </div>
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A little glitter over the gray - to make it more fun. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oZjRRQMdZIKaFV4OQ-YxCNe9lhxCUYaBCrb4ciu2jUpn9m4Uwv38m-7nmyzQD5drk2K0NJfg9IoBuQxpyK26q7LT92M9phKf5H89gf4-jcm0iS8ju6ihxbCXyo6jcS7oYhc1BuPKc4c/s1600/glittergray.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oZjRRQMdZIKaFV4OQ-YxCNe9lhxCUYaBCrb4ciu2jUpn9m4Uwv38m-7nmyzQD5drk2K0NJfg9IoBuQxpyK26q7LT92M9phKf5H89gf4-jcm0iS8ju6ihxbCXyo6jcS7oYhc1BuPKc4c/s320/glittergray.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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A little hot pink....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZplM-HuPdoCE-I6tdJBie6DlB2J1Kds2xB8oBVIshxynWufRoikvgOEfE_48mu1DdoIn2JeIRplIPswG_2E-E0Rh1SaBs3CAg4fSBHvvREo6iYSnDAf-poHsQYgUA9ABGkWQRyzqHJ1Q/s1600/pinknails.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZplM-HuPdoCE-I6tdJBie6DlB2J1Kds2xB8oBVIshxynWufRoikvgOEfE_48mu1DdoIn2JeIRplIPswG_2E-E0Rh1SaBs3CAg4fSBHvvREo6iYSnDAf-poHsQYgUA9ABGkWQRyzqHJ1Q/s320/pinknails.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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One of their few funky colors - purple! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpkut835uAlXm1TWP_1cbL6I3_V3sQRcDnKLo4nxl-jM581ZLGNXubmZzl7QtvRncR4oW0odyUFMAQjt7mg494bmKLwZTXgYU0GKKQn0hCK0hySGMFF_z7KiLk9WfOufYqMAkGGf7VSw/s1600/purplenails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpkut835uAlXm1TWP_1cbL6I3_V3sQRcDnKLo4nxl-jM581ZLGNXubmZzl7QtvRncR4oW0odyUFMAQjt7mg494bmKLwZTXgYU0GKKQn0hCK0hySGMFF_z7KiLk9WfOufYqMAkGGf7VSw/s320/purplenails.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A sexy hooker red... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqsxwdbpuzMirtjd41V4ItlJGofYTOr32cb62O7yBTG1xVGVBFld5HzkpD4DlO4OTUG8z5_EBIVH89zcJDATOxXE4y_-j4T96pexMov2cHgO7Xr9c9qUG4WPahBrUQOwBa5dNItOqbH4/s1600/rednails.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqsxwdbpuzMirtjd41V4ItlJGofYTOr32cb62O7yBTG1xVGVBFld5HzkpD4DlO4OTUG8z5_EBIVH89zcJDATOxXE4y_-j4T96pexMov2cHgO7Xr9c9qUG4WPahBrUQOwBa5dNItOqbH4/s320/rednails.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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3 weeks later - left hand FLAWLESS - minus the barely noticeable growth at the cuticle. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW8Ma-amQBHOWbf8mYXhQFjwXCAYvasiwxQAoaKImpmRnDvg0R7_SOAojESQuPTRNiXkhr4uRvO9RbGUwPM-TCvIo47hHDk20Q-XVaAXWwUcNNGlFL_3hBcyxXBLXD37wxYCw1O9akK4U/s1600/photo(9).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW8Ma-amQBHOWbf8mYXhQFjwXCAYvasiwxQAoaKImpmRnDvg0R7_SOAojESQuPTRNiXkhr4uRvO9RbGUwPM-TCvIo47hHDk20Q-XVaAXWwUcNNGlFL_3hBcyxXBLXD37wxYCw1O9akK4U/s320/photo(9).JPG" width="320" /></a></div>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-22275026695692733792011-07-15T19:05:00.000-07:002011-07-15T21:22:02.996-07:00"I Clearly LOVE the Smell of This Poop."Weeee! I am officially licensed as a New York City Sightseeing Guide!!! No - I am not ready to give you a tour of all of NYC yet. I am so very sorry to disappoint. I am gonna need a second - and a script - of my own or someone else's created. Patience is a virtue. Even when I am ready to give you a tour at the drop of a hat - don't expect me to do it. Much as I only sing on demand for my mother - just because I have a skill- doth not require me to demonstrate it like a dog watching a delectable biscuit in yo' hand. I realize you are just making conversation and that is all you can think of to say - but please don't be disappointed when you don't get the (at least) 24 hour walking tour that would ensue if I really did what you asked. My friend, attempting to quiz me on the eve before my NYC Tour Guide Licensing Exam, asked me "So, who in invented New York?". He was only slightly kidding. Today - when congratulating me on FB he said "So now do you know who invented New York?". And it got me to thinkin'. The depth of my study is wide and varied. While not entirely sufficient - I have a greater understanding of how New York came to be. And like any city - no one person "invented" it - someone may have "discovered" the land and possibly swindled the Native Americans who already lived on it - but no city can be created by one person. I realized my friend was being silly, of course, but I really enjoyed where it has tossed my mind. Through this whole process, while I am no huge fan of studying or taking tests - I have almost entirely enjoyed every second of what I have learned. This is due in most part to the fact that New York has always been made up of those, like myself, who were not actually born here but CHOSE to be here - to follow their dreams, to challenge themselves, to begin again. Anyone who comes to New York and stays - is, most certainly, slightly deranged - and therefore -utterly fascinating. So it has been a wild ride! One of the things I love most was watching the PBS special series <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wnet/newyork/">"New York, A Documentary Film by Ric Burns"</a> - all 8 DVDs of it. This documentary is interspersed with delicious quotes from the literary geniuses who made New York City their home. Not one to be too immersed in literature - these words were all new to me and really helped me understand what it must have been like to live through all of the intense changes the city has undergone. To read about facts and dates in books is one thing - but to hear the voice of real New Yorkers (the truest definition of which does NOT involve those born here)...is to feel the energy of the city at that time. It made me want to write. It made me wonder where all of our astute observations of our city - and our lives - are now getting recorded - on Facebook statuses. Where will those be for future generations to have access to? We are the ones who are inventing our cities - in this moment. We are who people will be reading about in 100 years - whether or not we make it onto an exam question. It's fun to remember that when you came here to be on Broadway - but this Broadway is an entirely different place than the Broadway you had imagined. It's fun when you find yourself excited to learn as much as you can about the city you have called "Home" for 9 years now in order to become a "Licensed Tour Guide". It's fun to remember that when you are sitting on a subway car that smells like poop. That poop smells the same as it did in 1904 when the subway began. I love this city - and I love that poop. Sort of.JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-49309463169641094782011-06-27T14:30:00.000-07:002011-06-27T21:58:29.782-07:00Proud Mary Keep on Turnin'!What a weekend in NYC!!! Just when I thought all we were waiting for was a decision on whether or not the senate was even going to vote on the issue of Gay Marriage - midnight struck and they had not only voted - but voted in favor of it! Wha??!?! This should not come as a surprise to me as it most certainly should have happened before all of the other states but, well - almost nothing comes as a surprise to me these days. All I know for sure is that I really know nothing for sure. What was most delightful is that this influential decision came at the start of NYC's Pride Celebration Weekend! I was scheduled to work some events during this weekend's festivities and couldn't have been happier that I was going to get paid to go and celebrate on such an exciting weekend in history.<br /><br />Now, I have been living in NYC for 9 years and out of those 9 years - I would say I might have missed 3 or 4 parade celebrations. I have a gaggle of close gay friends who I was giddy to go out and support for my first few years in the city. Then as I started to pay some closer attention to politics and the issue of gay marriage started to become an even bigger issue - I found myself really taking notice and getting involved. The parade for me as always been about the celebration of a movement that started on June 28, 1969 with the riots at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stonewall_Inn">Stonewall.</a> It is many things to many people: a time to drool over all the hot bodies, a time to get naked and don as much glitter as possible, a chance to walk in shoes and outfits no sane person should be able to stand straight up in, and for many - the time to gawk at all of the above - either with pride, envy, or embarrassment. But through it all - at it's heart - are the couples you see proudly holding hands, many of whom have been together longer than most heterosexual marriages. Through it all it is about how difficult it shouldn't be for couples just like them all across the country to be proud of who they are and who they love. Through it all it is about the movement that began in 1969 when they just weren't going to take the abuse anymore and began to fight for their equal human rights.<br /><br />Just a few short years ago after I had attended some rallies in support of gay marriage in Queens and the city, after I stood out in front of my local representative's office to show that he did not currently support the gay marriage bill and urging him to do so, after years of doing whatever I could to support this movement - me - a "straight" girl...had a startling realization. I was hanging out with some of my close friends - you know, the same ones I had gone out to support and love with every fiber of my being. We were sitting next to an older gay gentleman who brought up the subject of gay marriage - and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/California_Proposition_8_%282008%29">Prop 8</a> - as it was all so HUGE in the news at that time. I was excited by this stranger connecting on this issue and wanting to discuss it with us. They seemed mostly irritated by this older gentleman that, perhaps, might be hitting on them. Worse-they seemed unimpressed or moved in any which way. It was as if they hadn't been aware it was even happening. My heart sunk. Why was this more important to me than it was to them?<br /><br />Going to Pride with my friends always meant drinking in the bar at Stonewall until the parade was over-then hitting a few more gay bars-and most often hanging out until each of them hopefully found someone to go home with. How was this different than what we did when I'd visit gay bars with them on any other night? It wasn't. The fact that 6+ years of this along the idea that they were generally missing the actual significance of the day or those fighting for it = me opting to avoid the hot sweaty/shirtless crowds of the village in recent years.<br /><br />This year wasn't supposed to be any different -but then I got scheduled to work in the parade. This sounded all the more fun when things went so well in Albany. So I donned my glitter and off I went!<br /><br />While walking the route with 4 straight men - 3 of which who happened to be topless and hot - our lack of samples to pass out resulted in something strange. First off-I had a conversation with one of them that was eerily similar to one I had just the night before at a bar. These talks consisted of me claiming the importance of the day and them insisting that no one was going for those reasons but purely to see naked men and freaks-and to find someone to "freak" by the days end. These were straight men who insisted that they "have no problem with gay people and (insert weak proof here)."-but who continued to scoff at my notion that this day actually meant something serious to anyone. To say that these conversations bothered me is to say that I saw nary a nipple at the parade (lies...all lies!). By the time I had this talk with my coworker a few times IN the parade I decided it was futile and I would not waste more energy on it.<br /><br />Unfortunately we ran out of samples to pass out, which sucked, but then something AWESOME happened. I walked half of the parade making as much eye contact as I could with everyone in the crowd as I wished them a Happy Pride - and blew kisses, slapped high-fives, gave a hug when arms opened up-screaming until I thought I lost my voice (something I usually don't allow to happen as a singer). Every so often we were getting verbally abused for not having free samples walking in the parade-but mostly-I connected with people receiving my wishes and my love. I saw the gratitude in their eyes and I knew they instantly felt how genuinely happy I was about it and I often forgot I was there to hand out chips. The best part was-I think many of them did too!<br /><br />In a time when we are celebrating the victory of NYC finally making gay marriage legal-the fact remains that those marriages still aren't recognized in 40 other states. Living in NYC it is easy to imagine that everyone is open, accepting, and in support of human rights for all. But even right here in the city I continue to experience these politically correct stock responses which clearly do not reflect their truest feelings/assumptions. It's like when people used to say "I have no problem with black people-one of my good friends is black!". If this exists in Nyc-what is it like in the other 40 states?<br /><br />As I went home. Drained and worried I lost my voice, I also couldn't stop worrying about whether the arguments of those two straight guys had more truth than I had imagined. How can anyone gain a different opinion of this community when many of them appear so blissfully unaware of their own movement/history? When a huge percentage of them are still fulfilling the idea of the "careless homosexual" that so often puts themselves and their very own community in danger.<br /><br />Perhaps when you are so much a part of something it is hard to step out of yourself and see what is right. Like the feeling that "Well, I've already cheated on my diet-there's no saving me now-may as well eat more." Or, "I am so in debt I may as well max out this credit card because I can't imagine being able to fix it." This can be the only reason I can come up with as to why some folks <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/24/theater/young-gays-on-broadways-normal-heart-revival.html">prefer to remain uninformed and uninvolved while often perpetuating the old stereotypes</a>.<br /><br />I used to pay little attention to some of these matters and I imagine plenty are still doing the same. I don't always stay involved. I often get discouraged and ignore things for a minute. But I always find myself inspired to some type of action again. I can only hope that you do too. In a world that has this many uninformed people, why not pay better attention and continue being inspired to do something as we celebrate this step so that we will continue to have something to be Proud of?JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-16551972175036703322011-05-02T21:24:00.000-07:002011-05-02T21:51:38.836-07:00Osama is Dead. (This Just In: I Don't Care.)Osama Bin Laden is dead. I just can't seem to work myself into much of an emotion about this. I read everyone's comments in my newsfeed on Facebook and I am just confused. I see that I should be happy - that he represents the enemy which we have defeated. I see people celebrating. Of course I also see those that are standing for peace and would rather not celebrate the death of anyone - no matter who they are. Of course these incite the most commentary and debates among the masses. I am not sure if I would have felt this indifference if this happened 5 years ago. All I know is that I don't really care. Not because I think his life was to be valued. I don't care because it won't bring back any of the thousands of lives lost that day or in the 10 years which have followed or the years we have to come. I don't care because I still find the truth difficult to find amidst anything we "know". I don't care because being happy about this is the victory we were brainwashed into thinking we should want and cheer. I never believed it throughout the past 10 years, why should I believe it now? And it isn't because I don't sometimes believe in the whole "eye for an eye" thing. Hell, I am obsessed with "Dexter" for this very primal instinct to retaliate for wrongs that were definitely done. I would be lying if I said I haven't thought perpetrators of horrific crimes deserve equally horrific retribution. Yet I also believe that war is not the answer and two wrongs do not make a right. But, when you are involving countries behind this type of retaliation - where does it end? So one asshole is dead. Whoopee.JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-27101837383670720942010-12-08T21:03:00.000-08:002010-12-12T21:08:54.926-08:00"So, What Happened?"I recently had another disturbing conversation much like <a href="http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/7776407">this <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">xtranormal</span> video:</a><br /><br />Whilst working a holiday job I am NOT too giddy to return to (but grateful to have), a young co-worker learned that I had gone to college many moons ago. Here is our conversation:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Her: "So what did you go to school for?"</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Me: "I got a B.A. in musical theatre."</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Her: "So, what happened?"</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Me: laughing uncomfortably, "What happened?!"</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Her: "Yeah, don't you audition for Broadway?"</span><br /><br />I've had many conversations like these. The kind where that one response:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"So, what happened?"</span><br /><br />just repeats and repeats in my ear. Sometimes it pisses me off. Sometimes it makes me sad. This time it just made me giggle. A lot.<br /><br />Whether or not it as simple as this cat thinks it is. Do I still even want to be on Broadway?<br /><br />Maybe.<br /><br />The recent closing announcements of two new-to-Broadway shows, <a href="http://scottsboromusical.com/">"The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Scottsboro</span> Boys"</a> and <a href="http://www.bloodybloodyandrewjackson.com/">"Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson"</a> has me upset and curious about the current state of Broadway and how it compares to the Broadway that I fell in love with. Two new musicals with compelling <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">storylines</span> and new music MADE IT TO BROADWAY in a time when only jukebox musicals and blockbuster movie-to-musicals which all leave oodles to be desired are being produced and worse, selling tickets. Within just a few short months they get their closing notices and the theatre community mourns their loss. What is the problem here? Is there truly not an audience for these shows? I am inspired by these shows and I have not seen them yet. So am I to blame? I can't afford to see them!! Even at a student rate (which I am far from a student) I have no extraneous cash (yes, people can actually not have an extra $25-35 for a ticket). I have relied for the past several years in this city on the kindness of friends who work in box offices and theatre marketing companies for all of my theatre-going needs. Even when I receive a comp, my word-of-mouth can only go so far. I am well-connected but, to a sea of artists much like myself. I know numerous people who would thoroughly enjoy and support work like this but who do not have the means to. Is that where things stand? Is the only true audience for shows such as these the very theatre community which cannot afford to support it?<br /><br />Since I have limited time for research on this topic at this moment but really want to get this off my chest, I did a very quick search. The following is from <a href="http://www.seattlepi.com/movies/192144_broadway24q.html">a review</a> of "BROADWAY: THE GOLDEN ERA", (a documentary being shipped to me next from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Netflix</span>!) by Seattle Post-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Intellegencer</span> movie critic <a href="mailto:williamarnold@seattlepi.com">WILLIAM ARNOLD</a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"If you don't believe Broadway had its greatest years in the two decades between 1945 and 1965, all you have to do is open a theatrical section of The New York Times on any day in this period and you'll see row upon row of listings for plays that are now classics.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It was the heyday of Tennessee Williams, William Inge and Arthur Miller; of Rogers & Hammerstein, Lerner & Lowe and Cole Porter; of "The Glass Menagerie," "Death of a Salesman" and "Guys and Dolls," of Shirley Booth, John <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Raitt</span> and Carol Lawrence.</span> <p style="font-style: italic;">And the plays were performed in intimate theaters, mostly without audio systems, at ticket prices that were often less than that of a first-run movie in New York, so that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">theatergoing</span> could be an affordable part of any New Yorker's life.</p> <p style="font-style: italic;">Now, according to the nostalgic documentary, "Broadway: The Golden Era," it's all gone, replaced by endless revivals and English imports targeted at tourists, performed in large auditoriums with canned music, at hundred-dollar-plus ticket prices."</p> Though I have often been saddened by the current state of Broadway, there is always a part of me that feels that if putting an American Idol 13<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">th</span> runner-up in a "Rock of Ages" is what will get a younger audience interested in musical theatre, then I can't totally discount it. But when nothing new can survive in the theatre next door how will that new fan crossover to something closer to theatre?<br /><br />The good news is that there is still amazing theatre being produced elsewhere. The truest of theatre-goers have been looking Off-Broadway for the past several years to find the creativity, inspiration, and art of live theatre. Clearly Broadway is not where it's at, and even when it is, no one can afford to support it.<br /><br />So while I begin reassessing my life-long dream of performing on Broadway, I'd like to propose my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">co worker's</span> question to Broadway itself:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"So, what happened?"</span>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-60237988092393295092010-11-24T22:55:00.000-08:002010-11-24T23:55:48.384-08:00"So...what are you working on?"<p style="font-family:lucida grande;"><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" >If you are creative or artistic in any sense of the word, you have probably experienced the frustration of the knowledge that you DO have something MAGNIFICENT to share with the world combined with the incapacitation of perfectionism/procrastination (and yes, they are sometimes one and the same!). </span><br /></strong></p><p style="font-family: lucida grande;">I have many creative aspirations and often find myself overwhelmed by them. I am overwhelmed because there are so many different directions I can feel drawn to, but also because I have this sense of perfectionism. I don't want to do something unless it is going to be absolutely perfect (to my often impossible standards) and the most UNIQUE thing that has ever been created. If I do not have the time, energy, or inspiration to produce this product I refuse to even begin. While I embrace and am grateful for that perfectionism in regards to creating things I am proud of, I have learned recently that this is sometimes just another way of procrastinating what I am capable of. I am learning that there is something much more admirable in those who create for the sake of creating rather than the sake of being considered "brilliant". I have created some of the most amazing things from moments when I let go of that need to be the most "perfect/unique/brilliant" and just DID SOMETHING. This is a current goal of mine and I promise it has NOTHING to do with Nike but...</p><p style="font-family: lucida grande;">JUST DO IT!</p><p style="font-family: lucida grande;">But...sometimes we are entirely too hard on ourselves.<br /></p><p><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;font-family:lucida grande;" >I had the pleasure of reading </span><a style="font-weight: normal; font-family: lucida grande;" href="http://www.affirmingspirit.com/blog/2010/02/natural-creativity-cycles/">this blog post</a><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">at Affirming Spirit many months ago and was so excited by the relief/inspiration it provided me. She could not recall the name of the artist/psychology major who had self-published a book about it. </span></span></span><br /></strong></p><p><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">Here are the breakdown of the four stages as Nancy recalled them:</span><br /></strong></p><p><strong>1 | Gestation</strong></p> <p>This is the stage where things are quiet creatively, but you are <em>feeling hopeful</em> because you are noticing interesting experiences, gathering ideas, deciding what you want to work on next. This stage comes after the creator emerges from the Renewal/Rest stage.</p> <p><strong>2 | Inspiration</strong></p> <p>This is the stage where you find a new idea, or series of ideas, that really <em>feels *exciting*</em>. It might be a single idea, or one idea that quickly spawns many additional ideas. It may be something you observe outside of yourself or something that pops into your mind. The topic <em>feels juicy and pregnant with potential</em>. You begin whittling down the ideas collected to decide what you really want to focus upon.</p> <p><strong>3 | Creation/Birth</strong></p> <p>This is the stage where you begin taking action toward materializing the inspired idea, from start to finish. The creator’s energy is high, and they often <em>feel full of life and vibrant</em>. The work may take on a *life of it’s own*, possibly even going in a new direction not considered in the Gestation or Inspiration stage.</p> <p><strong>4 | Renewal/Rest</strong></p> <p>This is the stage creators enter upon completion of the Creation/Birth stage. Often, the creator has been focusing so intensely on the previous two stages, that this stage may <em>feel like a comparative shock</em>. New or inexperienced creators may find this stage comes relatively unexpectedly.</p> <p>This can be a very critical stage for creators because most find themselves <em>feeling low, possibly even feeling depressed</em>, in comparison to the high-energy stages of Inspiration and Creation/Birth. Unprepared, doubt, worry and fear can easily creep in during this time, and in this low-energy stage, the creator begins <em>questioning if they will ever do anything worthwhile again</em>. They simply don’t have the energy to contemplate something new, and often feel defeated because of the low energy levels.</p> <p>In extreme cases, a creator susceptible to addictions may retreat to drugs or alcohol to deal with the low energy, and/or soothe doubt, worry, and fear. However, if the creator is aware of these stages and knows <em>*this one, too, shall pass*</em>, they can embrace it and move through this stage relatively quickly~sometimes hours or days, versus months or years.</p> <p>The creator knows they have left this stage when they find themselves entering the Gestation stage as they gently begin gathering more data and being intrigued by new ideas of theirs or other creators.</p><p><br /></p><p>As a human being, I am a firm believer that we are constantly ebbing and flowing in SO SO SO many aspects of our emotions/world. Any woman knows how cycles affect our moods/over-all well-being. We are just lucky we have been given an explanation for it. Men just keep their insanity to themselves! With so many people on anti-depressants/anxiety medication I wonder if we all couldn't do with a little sit-down about our natural cycles. Everyone feels down sometimes. It is natural and part of the normal cycle of life. I realize there are extremes to this but for me, just KNOWING that these cycles exist and are so NORMAL helps me to feel better.<br /></p><p>As an artist, I am even more relieved to read how NORMAL it is to feel so inspired at one stage, to productive in another, and then to just chill out and regroup afterwards. What a relief! I used to feel like such a schmuck when I wasn't "working on anything". As performers we are all so very familiar with this feeling. When making conversation, friends and new acquaintances like to inquire "So...what are you working on?". Sometimes they truly mean well, while others may be judging. I have always HATED this conversation. If I have nothing to say I feel like a loser and if I have something to talk about I feel pretentious mentioning it. What a RELIEF it is to know that we shouldn't ALWAYS be inspired to be DOING DOING DOING! There is a time and a place for it, of course, and if you find yourself stuck in the "Gestation" or "Inspiration" phases for too long (which is different for everyone) perhaps you can give yourself a kick in the arse but just to know that each of these phases are legitimate and necessary to the final product...ESPECIALLY the "Renewal/Rest" stage makes me feel so much better!</p><p>As performer who often relies on other people to cast me in order to "allow" me to create amidst "their" show, I imagine these cycles can be a bit more difficult to manage. All us theatre-folk know the depression that follows closing a show. On top of the loss of such magical quality-time with an incredible new group of friends paired with creating something as a performer we must then return to the "what next?" feeling. As performers in NYC we are encouraged to just keep getting out there and auditioning. Sometimes you need to regroup. You need to be able to regroup without feeling like you are lazy. Resting/Renewal is a crucial part to our art as well! I feel like artists in other formats may have a little more control over which part of the cycle they are on whereas performers spend SO much time in the "Gestation" and "Inspiration" cycles while often having to keep putting themselves out there over and over again until someone "allows" them to be in the "Creation/Birth" cycle. No doubt our cycles are naturally continuing regardless - thus causing an overall feeling of unease when some of them don't come to tangible fruition! Oh right...and then we have to work "day-jobs" on top of this! Oye.<br /></p><p>Do you feel better knowing that these cycles exist and are perfectly normal? Can you let yourself off the hook and just enjoy your "Resting/Renewal" phase? I would love to know your thoughts!<br /></p>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-38716405301118117722010-11-08T00:46:00.000-08:002010-11-08T01:28:13.916-08:00"The Rally to Restore Sanity Which Nearly Made me Lose Mine" (Part 2 of 2)Well hello and welcome to my "Part 2". I set out to write solely about my experiences for the Rally but suddenly out came all that other stuff about the evolution of my eagerness turned disillusionment leading up to this Rally. So, if it interests you, <a href="http://lilsomethinsomethin.blogspot.com/2010/11/what-will-we-tell-our-grandchildren.html">fix those pretty retinas here.</a><br /><br />So Stewart and Colbert are throwing this Rally and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Arianna</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Huffington</span> is providing free buses. Awesome! I normally don't try and gravitate towards crowds like this, but it was worth it! These guys were coming together for something positive and, more importantly, funny! I was in. I knew it would be a lot of people because of the press it was getting. When Oprah mentioned it I knew it would be even crazier. What I didn't know is that, due to incredibly poor planning for the 10,000 people <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Arianna</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Huffington</span> so graciously bussed in for free, the story I will be telling my grandchildren is a lot more embarrassing and uneventful than it ought to be.<br /><br />Here's the scoop. You invite 10,000 people to meet you at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Citi</span>-Field in Queens at 4:30 a.m. for a 5:00 a.m. departure time, you should probably organize. We got to the stadium at the ass-crack o' dawn and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Huffington</span> Post folk were all very sweet but none of them really had anything useful to say or do. We had to form our own "line" and police ourselves, which grew more and more impossible as each 7 train that arrived dumped more and more people off. Eventually our long squiggly poor-excuse of a "line" became just a mass of people. Oh yeah, and we clearly did not leave anywhere close to 5am. We stood out in the cold for hours. Our buses were all lined up waiting for us, so why were we waiting there? Well, around 6:40 or so, Ms. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Arianna</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Huffington</span> herself came by with her cameras and shook people's hands and evidently hand-picked people to come with her on her bus. I am pretty sure we had to wait for her to get this photo-opportunity before we could leave because soon after she was done...things started to happen. Now, once again....NO organization from the HP peeps. Just a mass exodus toward the buses. You can guess it, my friends and I...and several other hundred people who had been standing patiently since 4:30 a.m. were now the last to board buses, while folks who just arrived at 6:30 and should have MISSED it entirely got on first. Yet we remained patient and calm, all-be-it irritated and cold. Finally we board our bus, which looked like it was stolen off a movie set. Our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">janky</span> bus from 1969 still had an old school scrolling destination sign on it and there was a sign in the window that said "Jimmy". Our bus driver looked like one of Tony Soprano's peons and definitely looked like a Jimmy. We were informed just before we left that his name wasn't "Jimmy", it was "Jude". We still aren't entirely sure of this "Jimmy"'s whereabouts but we have our suspicions. Now our bus stank and the heat wasn't working. I was confident it would at some point but, no, it never did. The ride was long. The bathroom nasty. Jude kept pulling off the road to go to the bathroom. We hit traffic and after a while we couldn't see any more buses on the road with us. It was after 12pm and we were still on this bus! Jude informed us that his G.P.S. just went out and he was going to have to ask for directions. We wondered if he was even supposed to be part of this whole trip to begin with, he seemed like he just stole a bus and went along for the ride. Suddenly we start seeing national monuments off in the distance, realizing we are now IN the city. We weren't supposed to be dropped off there, we were supposed to go to a stadium about 10 minutes by subway away and we were on our own to get in to the National Mall. One of the passengers uses his G.P.S. on his phone to navigate us where we need to be and Jude drops us off a few blocks from the Mall at 1:30 p.m. With an hour and half left before the mass exodus to the subway and then buses, we get as close as we can to the field. We didn't have a chance. It occurs to me that even had we arrived on time, we wouldn't have a had a chance. You would have had to be in early that morning to get a spot anywhere near the action. Sure, I have lived in NYC long enough to know you can't just show up at the start time of the movie at Bryant Park and get a spot on the lawn but I thought this was different. There had been SO MUCH MEDIA about this I sort of imagined <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Arianna</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Huffington</span> would be interested in us actually SEEING something once she bussed us there but obviously she couldn't care less about that, let alone getting us there before the Rally began. We stand near urinals listening to the muffled sounds of, probably Jon Stewart. We can't make out anything on the screens or stage. We walk around a wee bit. We are hungry, so we go wait in line for a hot dog. Then we wait in line for the Smithsonian restrooms. We walk around for another 5 minutes before I suggest we start to head to the subway. In about 5 minutes, the millions of people at that Rally will be doing the same thing. We patiently wait for the subway for about 40 minutes only to find a new line has formed since the Rally let out and we are all filtering into the same stairwell. Once again we patiently do what's "right" while a bunch of other fools essentially cut us. But what can ya' do? Once in the subway terminal things went way faster than I had imagined and soon enough we were on a newer, less <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">janky</span>/smelly, sans mobster-driver bus. It was on our journey home that we found out that all the other buses were given free snacks. Yeah. Free yogurt from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Stonybrook</span>, free pistachio nuts, and free Coca-Cola. Our bus got <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">NUTTIN</span>'. Maybe Jude ate it all.<br /><br />That's what happened when I went to the Rally kids. Grandma rode on a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">janky</span> bus for 6 hours just to eat a hot dog and pee before turning around and coming back and watching clips of what she missed while she was there on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">internet</span>.<br /><br />Am I a little irked with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Arianna</span> for treating us as props to make her look fantastic in the media while feigning interest in our participation once her free buses dropped us off late? Of course. Do I wish I could still get my hands on those pistachio nuts? It'd be cool. But do I regret going to the Rally? I don't think so. At the end of the day, this Rally was HUGE. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">HUUUUUUGE</span>! A police officer in D.C. said he hasn't seen anything this big in years (other than <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Obama's</span> Inauguration). It would have never been that HUGE if it weren't for all the media attention Ms. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Huffington</span> created with this free bus bullshit. Thousands of people got together FOR something. Something positive and funny. I still can't understand why some media were forbidden by their employers to cover the Rally, but regardless of that fact, people still know what happened that day and how many people came to support it. And I did too....it's not my fault the day was a huge-ass bust for me and my friends. I went. That's something I can be proud to tell my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">grandkids</span>. Now I better get busy over here and start on the kid part first 'cause I'm gonna be one crazy-awesome Grandma!JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-3477398189042812472010-11-08T00:01:00.000-08:002010-11-08T01:28:38.129-08:00"What will we tell our grandchildren?" (Part 1 of 2)I spend a lot of time imagining what great tales I will have to tell my grandchildren one day. This is a bizarre fact being that I have no children nor any immediate prospects and I just ain't <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">gettin</span>' any younger. Okay I know 33 isn't old but seriously, I've got lots of story-times planned with my non-existent grandchildren and only an occasional date through <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">OkCupid</span> so you do the math.<br /><br />Still, I will be proud to tell my grandchildren that when I was a young lady living in NYC the Bush administration finally made me pay the fuck attention to politics and was just so out of control that I finally compelled to DO SOMETHING. I finally felt driven to get out in the streets or find ways I could change an unhealthy situation. There was the Pro-Choice Rally followed by an Anti-Bush Rally all on the same weekend I moved into my 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">nd</span> apartment here. My mother's fears of my heading out to an anti-Bush rally were based in her experiences living through the tumultuous 60's. These were dangerous times! I know....I saw "Forrest <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Gump</span>". What I experienced that year (just before his reelection) was incredible and peaceful. Nothing violent occurred in the slightest-which is fantastic, but I can't help but wonder if that really was for the best. Taking to the streets with like-minded individuals on the streets of my now home of NYC was liberating. This bubble of like-minded folks blinded me to the reality that the majority of our country still wasn't convinced we were up shit-creek and Bush was continuously tossing our paddles out of the boat as we just kept handing them to him! I canvased in the swing-state of Pennsylvania on election day and went to the bar to watch the results with my fellow <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">canvasers</span>. Unfortunately we saw how that one panned out. To say that this changed me is to understate something I still haven't found the words to describe. Up to that point, I had never experienced anything quite so life-altering as I did that election day.<br /><br />Throughout the next four years I attempted to continue supporting issues that were important to me. Excited by the notion that, if enough people were pissed off about Bush and what he was doing, at SOME POINT they would ALL feel compelled to get out there and DO SOMETHING...even if that something was walking down the street screaming something out....letting it be known that they did NOT approve and support him. I traveled to one rally in Washington D.C. the week that the now majority-Democratic Senate was back in session after the holidays. We were there to show our support and remind them what we wanted them to accomplish in there. The organization we went with also had some other things on our agenda that they hadn't been all that informative about prior. We were, evidently, also there to don orange prison outfits complete with black hoods over our heads - Guantanamo-Bay-style and kneel on the lawn with our hands tied behind our backs. This was in protest of the poor treatment/torture of suspected "terrorist" prisoners. We did as we were told but most of us hadn't signed up for that! Nor did we sign up to walk the streets of D.C. with these hoods over our heads while holding up GIGANTIC heavy signs they wanted us to carry. The worst part about all of this was the fact that we were told thousands of people were meeting us in D.C.. When we arrived, our numbers totaled about 300 or so. We were this tiny smattering of New Yorkers bused in for some huge rally that just never came to be. My heart sunk. Didn't people CARE?!?! Weren't people even more ready now to DO SOMETHING? Evidently not. I don't think anyone even knew we were there that day. Needless to say, I was not inspired or proud. I felt like an idiot running around in my black hood. It was around this time I started realizing the power of being "for" or "against" something and how most protests are "against". This one definitely was. I started to understand that, were I to take part in something else such as this, it was going to need to be FOR something positive.<br /><br />So yeah...I did go out and canvas in Pennsylvania again for Obama. I lost my voice <a href="http://lilsomethinsomethin.blogspot.com/2008/11/this-is-bliss_08.html">screaming in Times Square when he was elected.</a> I've been to rallies in support of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">gay's</span> rights to marry and things of that nature, but haven't felt too inspired to "go anywhere" until John Stewart and Stephen Colbert's "Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear". The timing of it and the free <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Huffington</span> Post buses were all too hard to pass up. Little did I know that <a href="http://lilsomethinsomethin.blogspot.com/2010/11/rally-to-restore-sanity-which-nearly.html">this is what I will get to tell my grandchildren about that day....</a>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-12903005974340206872010-08-23T22:12:00.001-07:002010-08-23T22:15:06.957-07:00Baby ArmsSo, I am a bit busy doing some shows this summer, but have taken some time to compile some pretty wacky pictures I've been taking up here....<br /><br />If you are bored and have as weird a sense of humor as I, please enjoy:<br /><br />May I present to you.....<br /><br /><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=14495732&id=595090523&ref=fbx_album#%21/pages/Baby-Arms/135554223153860?ref=ts">Baby Arms</a>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-89555610326369770072010-06-26T00:58:00.001-07:002010-06-27T16:11:11.818-07:00Play Me, I'm Yours!I was born in what was to become The MTV Generation I was a little late for the explosive freedom and liberation of revolutionary changes in the 60's and 70's where music was taken out into the streets uniting people for causes beyond the concert stadiums. I was a child of the 80's and listened to music made on synthesizers and very large computers. Madonna and Whitney Houston were my heros and banana clips were my friends. Somehow though, as I aged, it did not take me long to realize that the music I truly love is that of the 30's and 40's. Of course I can appreciate modern music but I am certain I was born in the wrong era. I long for the days when a party meant everyone gathering 'round the piano and singing some rousing tunes. I feel strange that I know how songs like THIS...<br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f1gfZwejPv8&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f1gfZwejPv8&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br />was once a pop hit!<br /><br />So it should come as no surprise that when I heard about <a href="http://www.streetpianos.com/nyc2010/">"Play Me, I'm Yours"</a>, an art installation of pianos randomly distributed throughout Manhattan and many outer boroughs for New Yorkers to see, play, and enjoy, I was anxious to find some!<br /><br />I had little idea just how cool it would be when I found one. The first I encountered was at Columbus Circle just behind the huge statue this past Wednesday. I got so giddy! I sat down to wait for the friend I was meeting and listened to the man playing the piano.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGo03djPDGoGFItkw-UVqR5dpheQQ562c4kQomSTWvL11Itd7EWsCpLV2gZ-jjxl8zz9U88kE3UoOCUbC5BV8om3ZR7DeJMpw7X4xKU05eejFZ2YKc3eRuP1ZggOaTG-STpqwI1QgKiw/s1600/playmeimyours.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGo03djPDGoGFItkw-UVqR5dpheQQ562c4kQomSTWvL11Itd7EWsCpLV2gZ-jjxl8zz9U88kE3UoOCUbC5BV8om3ZR7DeJMpw7X4xKU05eejFZ2YKc3eRuP1ZggOaTG-STpqwI1QgKiw/s320/playmeimyours.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487032110947864018" border="0" /></a><br />Everyone watching him was smiling and enjoying this just as much as I! When I thought about finding one of these I was hoping someone might be playing a song I knew and I might feel inspired to hop up and sing along. Instead, I was stunned as a sort of scroungy older man in the audience (who could have passed for homeless) hopped up and ran over after the other man left and started ticklin' those ivories! The crowd sat full of smiles as we enjoyed his tune, when a woman with a stroller carrying two babies wheeled over next to me. She pushed her babies towards myself and an older woman beside me saying hurriedly, "Would you mind watching them for a moment while I play?" Of course we agreed and she ran over and sat down only to play the most brilliant and challenging song we had heard just yet! "Oh MY!!!" giggled the older woman next to me as she started a round of applause! I watched as one of her babies repeatedly attempted to pull himself out of his slumber. I wondered whether he recognized his mom's tune. On she went only to be replaced by a tourist with bag from the M&Ms store. I was really considering jumping in but the only thing I thought I might be able to play was the Oscar Meyer Wiener song, and decided against it. It was then that my friend met me and we had to proceed with our day. I still want to find myself at another one of these pianos and sing some old standards just to have that experience out on a street somewhere, but wow is this public art incredible! We move to this city to be near this type of energy yet so many of us wrap ourselves into our solitary cocoons with earbuds and our own agenda. We steer clear of the "touristy" areas that initially drew us to this city and grumble at the crowds. I love when someone places something like this in our way and I watch as we come back out of our shells, and smile, and laugh, and connect...the way we were born to do. So get out there and find yourself a piano!<br /><br />“Play Me, I’m Yours” is an artwork by British artist <a href="http://www.lukejerram.com/" target="_blank">Luke Jerram </a>who has been touring the project globally since 2008.<br /><br />From 9am-10pm each day, 60 pianos will be available to play<strong> </strong>across New York City. Presented by <a href="http://www.singforhope.org/" target="_blank">Sing for Hope</a> they are located in public parks, streets and plazas t<span style="font-weight: bold;">he pianos will be available until 5th July</span> for any member of the public to play and engage with.<br /><br />Be sure to check out the <a href="http://www.streetpianos.com/nyc2010/">"Play Me, I'm Yours"</a> NYC site for more information, locations on the pianos (including Queens, Brooklyn, and Staten Island!) and to post pictures/stories/videos of piano sightings!<br /><br />And to you fellow artists out there who are looking for ways to volunteer, I am excited to learn more about the folks presenting this art along with Luke Jerram, <a href="http://singforhope.org/streetpianos/">Sing for Hope</a>. Go check out ways you can get involved as well!<br /><br /><br />*****Update*****I finally got to play my wiener song....poorly...in the middle of Times Square to a smattering of applause! (6/26/10)<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvLSrQXwGA8Jh-zhOYt_-i-3eNGh3iD3VJbJ6cYQnwV1CxTqZHwmYc_KSrDKchoZ_8GAmE6oj0MkLdOyoEnhXm4krXxAo25zbNtbO9Cis6LqiS4tfEClYdTJW2cHBuJ692xCZiSNXGQo/s1600/playmeimyoursme.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvLSrQXwGA8Jh-zhOYt_-i-3eNGh3iD3VJbJ6cYQnwV1CxTqZHwmYc_KSrDKchoZ_8GAmE6oj0MkLdOyoEnhXm4krXxAo25zbNtbO9Cis6LqiS4tfEClYdTJW2cHBuJ692xCZiSNXGQo/s320/playmeimyoursme.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487594604421668450" border="0" /></a>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-38881029955747975002010-06-21T22:47:00.001-07:002010-06-21T23:30:32.243-07:00"An Anorexic Vanilla Latte Please!"I went out to meet a great friend at a Starbucks this evening and encountered, quite possibly, the most unhappy Starbucks employee I have ever had the pleasure of dealing with. I must say, on the whole, I have found Starbucks employees to be quite pleasant and joyous in demeanor. So it should go without saying (but it's too late now) that this grumpy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">barista</span> sticks out like a sore thumb. <br /><br />We'll call her "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Grumpypants</span>", and she didn't look entirely different than this photo of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Jabba</span> the Hut.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVGRXHNHT60K93VEInCrHPFqpZfVY3v9ear7h_tJ_EX-PSE64Pvx0wKWDUrcprVTDtQPWFntApOLlzYkxWb6gW2wvCOUMQ8_SnMdx6atYcosHUrXuz5LJtO5SDvhOx3hUbRirzLWBE-U/s1600/jabastarbucks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVGRXHNHT60K93VEInCrHPFqpZfVY3v9ear7h_tJ_EX-PSE64Pvx0wKWDUrcprVTDtQPWFntApOLlzYkxWb6gW2wvCOUMQ8_SnMdx6atYcosHUrXuz5LJtO5SDvhOx3hUbRirzLWBE-U/s320/jabastarbucks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485481197032329666" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Now, unreasonably irritable and unfriendly customer service associates are something of the norm these days outside of Starbucks so I am pretty used to not taking it too personal. Now I have always had trouble ordering drinks at Starbucks. I have grave difficulty remembering all the correct words to describe what I'd like and even in all these years, I still don't fully have it down. Also, I have been a bit out of practice as of late and when I went to order, this is how it went.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "Hello, can I please have a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">grande</span>...er I'm sorry, I'd like a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">venti</span>, non-fat, vanilla latte please.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">GrumpyPants</span>:</span> "Iced or hot?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "Oh!, Iced please!! Thanks so much for asking! I have a problem remembering all these words, sorry."<br /><br />Without much reaction she began preparing my drink. When I saw her pour Reduced Fat 2% milk in, I asked<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "Oh...do you guys use 2% instead of non-fat/skim?" (I don't know why this sounded right to me.)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Grumpypants</span>: </span> blank stare as if to say "Bitch, are you going to fucking make me start over?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "You call skim 'non-fat', right?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Grumpypants</span>: </span> "You need to say 'slender'."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span> "What? I though it was 'skinny'? or...'non-fat'".<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Grumpypants</span>:</span> "You didn't ask for non-fat."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> (still <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">unecessarily</span> polite) "No, I know I said 'non-fat vanilla latte', I forgot to say "iced" which you helped me with, thank you."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Grumpypants</span>: </span>(evil glare as she dumps it out and begins again and...I can't be certain, but she may have just used the same jug of 2%, I couldn't really see...but it was the same damn color.)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> (continuing unnecessary politeness) Sorry...thank you!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Random Guy Behind Me in Line : </span>"I heard you say 'non-fat'!"<br /><br />When I shared this story with my friend I learned that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Grumpypants</span> is always this much of a "pleasure" and gives everyone a hard time. I also didn't really notice until I retold this story that she actually said I should have called my skim milk "slender". Now that's a new one. Please tell me she made that one up on the spot?!?! I really wouldn't be surprised if it's the newest ridiculous word in the Starbucks vernacular but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">geez</span>, when will it end? My friends told me of some awesome twist on the Caramel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Macchiato</span> where you order it "upside down". They literally just include the same ingredients but make it in reverse. Evidently it tastes like an entirely new and delectable $5+ treat! F.Y.I. This is one <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Grumpypants</span> REFUSES to make (at the Starbucks on 49<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">th</span> Street b/w 8<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">th</span> & 9<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">th</span> Ave). I still don't know who discovered/named this, it had to be one of the more pleasant Starbucks workers.<br /><br />I want to start making up my own.<br /><br />"I'll take a 'Fat-ass Vanilla Latte with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Spanx</span> and a Smile' please!"<br />"Please pick me up a 'Bow-legged/Big-Boned Caramel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Macchiato</span>!"<br />"Ooh, I'd love a 'Tall-n-Lanky <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Frappachino</span> with Freckles' please."JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-52782833737834298202010-06-21T00:17:00.000-07:002010-06-21T00:23:30.625-07:00In case you care....Oh man, I really wish I could feel like I have something decent to blog about regularly. While I don't want to stress myself out about it, I realize that the things I love about the blogs I check up on are that they always have something new every time I visit them. I know a mom who just added twins to her 2 younginz and she is still keeping up with her blog every other damn day! Of course she has a highly successful blog with tons of readers who are waiting to hear what she has to say. I must say it is easy to blow this off when I feel like no one ever reads it. Not to offend you if you happen to be reading this and don't happen to be my brother (thank you Scott!). I'm just sayin'. It give me huge license to ignore it until something huge happens that really makes me giggle or think. Now it sounds like that is rare in my world, and that would be a lie. I giggle and think quite a bit daily. I swear I do! Sometimes I even do them simultaneously. But I don't suppose I look for something every other day that I should come here and tell you about. I try to wait until the mood hits. And unfortunately it hasn't really hit for a second. I was busy getting geared up to do my first solo NYC cabaret, which somehow went smashingly. But now I am back, and I am going to stay focused on finding something to tell you about every other day. Even if that doesn't occur, I imagine I will get here more often than I have been.<br /><br />And I thank you for your support.JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-29715853256949941872010-05-10T00:41:00.000-07:002010-05-10T01:48:28.778-07:00"Extra Extra! Read All About It SUCKER!!!!"If you know me you know of my obsession with <a href="http://www.theonion.com/">"The Onion"</a>, a brilliant satirical newspaper that is often the only news source I can genuinely trust. I have often found myself obsessed with their horoscopes, but not as of late. Just in case you haven't seen this brilliant periodical, you should do yourself a favor and visit their <a href="http://www.theonion.com/">website</a> and enjoy their news videos. The physical newspaper itself is not only awesome, it is FREE!<br /><br />Well, a few years ago after a particularly long day out on the mean streets of NYC, I had been looking for the new issue of The Onion to pick up for my subway ride home and every spot I'd come across was out of them. I am pretty sure I even went out of my way to seek it out in a few choice spots, but to no avail. I was dragging my weary bones down 8th Avenue looking for a place to rest my soul when a sort of crazy-eyed homeless guy approached me with a stack of newspapers. I figured he was selling the "Homeless Times" paper that some of these folk are peddling. Just as my auto-response "oh, no...sorry" was about to begin, my eye caught sight of the old familiar font and Today's Weather looming off to the right. This man was trying to SELL me "The Onion"! I couldn't help but laugh. This man thought I was dumb enough to pay $2.99 for "The Onion"? He even pointed out the joke price that used to be printed on it that looked legitimate but was just part of it's brilliant satire. I could NOT stop laughing! I figured this was worth the $3 for the amusement I was getting, and besides, I needed the new issue anyway. So I told him I WOULD buy one off of him, just because I thought it was hysterical of him to sell it. I walked away grinning from ear to ear only to realize, as I glanced down in jest, that I already had this issue, and it was WEEKS old. This swindler not only sold me a FREE newspaper, but he sold me an issue 3-4 weeks old! That bastard still GOT ME! At least it was actually one of my favorite issues. I know that sounds strange but I told you I was obsessed. Every single inch of that issue had cracked my shit up and mostly out loud....so at least he sold me a good one!!<br /><br />This has long-since been one of my favorite NYC stories, much like the time I saw a "blind" panhandler with a walking stick walk off the subway reading his newspaper.<br /><br />Well....I was hangin' out in Times Square this past week....acting like a hippie with flyers for "Hair" when this man wanders through.....<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgubaoC8BG5mdLwmgDwBIlpQWnZrgpGopQ0oE-7v90DLXbfC0RS497y1QRHiIB_HQ7fSA1e0XiXqpPVpE8-fqzBHoRV09a9wMhIdPzXAThH034E8gvOjgMwDILYmjyT9wc0Ix3snM6N_w8/s1600/onionguy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgubaoC8BG5mdLwmgDwBIlpQWnZrgpGopQ0oE-7v90DLXbfC0RS497y1QRHiIB_HQ7fSA1e0XiXqpPVpE8-fqzBHoRV09a9wMhIdPzXAThH034E8gvOjgMwDILYmjyT9wc0Ix3snM6N_w8/s320/onionguy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469553115260957074" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Now this is NOT the man who swindled me, but I have never seen anyone else trying this since then and that was at least 4 years ago. So I had another good laugh. I told him all about it...and he kept saying it was probably him. I knew it wasn't but I still needed some documentation. This man was very good humored about it all even though it hadn't been him originally. He mentioned that they stopped putting the fake price on the paper and he assumed it was so that people like him couldn't sell them on the streets. He also mentioned that he recently returned from being "away" for the past 4 years. By "away", he definitely meant "in jail"...which he was also, oddly, good humored about.JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-21661920333035950222010-04-26T03:50:00.001-07:002010-04-26T13:09:18.077-07:00Oh where oh where have my crack-tacos gone? Astoria Taco Truck where are YOU?I must begin with my deepest apologies for my last post being of the boring insights and disgusting image of Mortadella. I have been mortified that I left you all with that gem as my last post in entirely too long. I know full well there aren't that many of you who even swing past here all that often and those of you who do ought to be rewarded with something other than the world's most hideous looking luncheon meat.<br /><br />Now...onto more pressing matters.<br /><br />Those of you who know me know of my infatuation with the Taco Truck here in Astoria, NY. You may recall it from a past voicemail, Facebook status or any number of endless ramblings stating my suspicion of their use of actual crack amidst their delectably unique and fresh ingredients which keep addicts like me running back for more. If you ever heard tell of my new found adoration of limes and radishes, these are the people responsible.<br /><br />The Taco Truck, otherwise known as "El Rey del Taco" and always parked in front of the Rite-Aid at 30th Avenue and 31st Street (except on Mondays) has recently gone missing, and I am not the only one who cares. I recently read a worried friend's status this past week, as he lives right near it and hadn't noticed it there for about a week. I had my regular two $2 chicken tacos (otherwise known as heaven) about 3-4 weeks ago but hadn't been over there since. I was worried about this when another friend casually mentioned her plans for the taco cart that evening on her way home, and had to warn her that her plans may be thwarted due to it's absence.<br /><br />On my way to a party late Friday night near their corner, I approached the silhouette of a trunk nearly the same size and shape of the Taco Truck. As I got closer, however, I noticed it was slightly smaller and was covered with some graffiti-type artwork that was drab and frightening. A man loading boxes into this truck saw me slow down as I noticed this menacing impostor and thought he'd try flirting with me (since I was all dolled up and walking alone at 1am). All I could do was look at him sullenly and say "you're not my Taco Truck....where's my Taco Truck?" and sulk away.<br /><br />Well, I am not sure what the explanation is for the disappearance of one of my most reliably delicious and insanely cheap-ass dinners/snacks, but I am ecstatic I am not the only one who is concerned and people are already trying to get to the <a href="http://www.whyleaveastoria.com/profiles/blogs/where-has-el-rey-del-taco-gone">bottom of this.</a><br /><br />I also had no idea that the people who owned it recently opened an actual restaurant not too far away that <a href="http://www.whyleaveastoria.com/profiles/blogs/taco-truck-alternatives?xg_source=activity">sounds </a>pretty delicious as well....though, I'm still gonna need you to bring me back my cart, mmkay?JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-39084841828970045892010-03-14T01:20:00.000-08:002010-03-14T01:31:12.352-08:00Mortadella?Am I the only person disturbed by the sight of this luncheon meat in my bodega's deli case?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOPKNKvvLZqHcZlRaI182bQO6-DT_8MbqFaj1depm8wFeWzWVqajrbCoetpu7JgfPtzP6SSS6hIKwHL3cUk8yjCQEJ-4A4L_Qa3uTq0qqrtPAuDKMaURIhmNCY-iOkavRQWq0S3SjgK4/s1600-h/mortadella1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOPKNKvvLZqHcZlRaI182bQO6-DT_8MbqFaj1depm8wFeWzWVqajrbCoetpu7JgfPtzP6SSS6hIKwHL3cUk8yjCQEJ-4A4L_Qa3uTq0qqrtPAuDKMaURIhmNCY-iOkavRQWq0S3SjgK4/s320/mortadella1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448417356286752178" border="0" /></a><br />Now, I love me some pistachios, and I can appreciate that they might taste delicious in a lunch meat but man, does it look disgusting! It appears as though it may, at times, contain berries, though all I see here is chunks of FAT. Is this the fruit cake of lunch meats? Does someone actually like this? I don't think I have ever heard anyone order a "Mortadella on Rye", or on anything for that matter.<br /><br />I am not sure why I need to get to the bottom of this, but if you or anyone you have ever met happens to enjoy a fine Mortadella, please enlighten me!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGSSBABWeXZ48Ios8hzkRqAG64NieCtHEqSXs7Tf3zkkJRhijBy_b3nvc7Yngudc3DYd9PTNzM2EaA-gpePQUULRbcxK-flAYcZ7IOHftRlvfDMjGvz_EeJpNqKI0n5xvw2Z9ZHK1dcQ/s1600-h/mortadella.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGSSBABWeXZ48Ios8hzkRqAG64NieCtHEqSXs7Tf3zkkJRhijBy_b3nvc7Yngudc3DYd9PTNzM2EaA-gpePQUULRbcxK-flAYcZ7IOHftRlvfDMjGvz_EeJpNqKI0n5xvw2Z9ZHK1dcQ/s320/mortadella.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448419207593194082" border="0" /></a>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-21120536883497659052010-02-12T21:01:00.000-08:002010-02-21T23:00:51.411-08:00French Fries and Copious Amounts of Bird PoopI remember the first time I visited New York City. I remember the shows I saw, the stars I got my picture with at the stage doors, the grimy streets, and my brother getting swindled in Times Square by some sketchy dudes playing cards on cardboard boxes. I remember the energy I felt in the air and I knew that I would move here one day. Just before all that, I recall my very first step onto a NYC sidewalk just left of the crazies outside of Port Authority. A pigeon shit on my head. Welcome to New York. I knew this was the town for me! That day and many times since, I have been told that a bird pooping on your head is a sign of good luck. While there is no doubt that I am enjoying my time here in the big city...it's been nearly 8 years now and I am pretty sure I am still waiting for that good luck to prove itself. <br /><br />Last night I had an odd dream. We (castmates, classmates of some sort, and just friends in general) were all staying in the woods near a beach. I'm not sure what we were doing there. En route one afternoon from wherever we went everyday back to our cabins in the woods, we were all crossing the beach when french fries started falling all around us. I don't know where they were coming from, but the sinking feeling in the pit of our stomachs told us that if:<br /><br />beach + fries = seagulls and birdshit <br /><br />then:<br /><br />beach + copious amounts of fries = well...you get the picture<br /><br /><br />So we started to run just as hoards of seagulls came swooping in eating the french fries that just kept falling. This was obviously followed by large amounts of poop on our heads. We had just barely reached the woods we were living in when the 'storm' got real bad. I just remember all of us drenched in seagull poop and wondering who was going to get to use the shower first. <br /><br />Now, if birds pooping on your head = good luck<br /><br />What do dreams about massive amounts of bird feces pouring down your face and the faces of those around you equal?<br /><br />How about copious amounts of random french fries?<br /><br /><br /><a class="DiggThisButton" href=""><br /><br /><script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"><br /></script></a>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-17574192279149123142010-02-08T13:11:00.001-08:002010-02-21T23:01:18.536-08:00"The Anti-Bandwagon Bandwagon"Y'no what I'm really sick of? The "Anti-Bandwagon Bandwagon". Don't know what that is? Sure ya' do. It's that group of folks in the world who refuse to "get on the bandwagon" for anything and everything that a lot of people have agreed is awesome, purely because a lot of people have previously agreed that it is awesome. You might hear them saying things like, "Oh...that's been too hyped up!" or "Oh God, that's the LAST movie I want to see, it can't be that great...people are stupid." I first noticed this phenomenon when the movie "Titanic" was out. I loved that movie. I know, I know...it isn't the best film ever created, and it was cheesy, but it was a damned great movie. I don't need to defend myself this many years later, and frankly, I don't care whether you agree with me. Myself and millions of other people felt something when we watched that flick and we did that because we allowed ourselves to get on that bandwagon that the anti-bandwagon bandwagoners were throwing themselves off of and under. <br /><br />What they just don't understand is that the Anti-Bandwagon Bandwagon IS A BANDWAGON. In claiming that they are so individual and so unique...able to make their own choices and form their own opinions...they are making their opinion instantly opposite to the general consensus, usually without even seeing/hearing/trying said "awesome thing". Now that's just retarded. And sure...there are a few Anti-BW's that do allow themselves to experience whatever it is and will still deny it's possible awesomeness anyway, because that is just who they are. Besides, who am I to prove whether they secretly enjoyed it and are afraid to admit it? <br /><br />The trick here isn't jumping ON one of these bandwagons but, rather, not allowing their presence to deter you from truly experiencing something for yourself. A lot of people sell themselves short from some silly notions of their supposed individuality. <br /><br />That is my point at the end of all of this....the whole idea behind hating whatever everyone on the Bandwagon digs is based on this idea that you are your own person and you don't just go along with the crowd. I can respect that. But not if, in doing so, you just hop on the wagon that is going the other way down the road, because that is just a different gaggle of lemmings headed to a really boring party.<br /><br /><br /><a class="DiggThisButton" href=""><br /><br /><script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"><br /></script></a>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4758366808296271507.post-5184403541813549652010-02-06T00:55:00.000-08:002010-02-21T23:01:38.704-08:00"Apple Dapples"There are a lot of random things that make me happy, but none quite so much as the names of generic cereal. Since some brand named cereals are $5-6 these days, I imagine I am not the only one who has noticed some of them. These are just a few of my favorites.<br /><br /><br />There are plenty like these ones...with just a silly sound to them that vaguely describes what they are. But we smart folk can generally figure it out based on our familiarity with the original version, the photo on the box, and our experience with context clues: <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiViFOHezDQYd5hnVm32wQmq2iecV52R2n104Nwr7vao5CT7QmGl5fHmoM8D0JL-8Cami1dgzZcd6ZuvkOcdu2VUwFBIaj_an6rho2bqdZaIOqnRhxNZb-xAtL9XIjveOiRMzMHeQtTW54/s1600-h/67966908421.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 120px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiViFOHezDQYd5hnVm32wQmq2iecV52R2n104Nwr7vao5CT7QmGl5fHmoM8D0JL-8Cami1dgzZcd6ZuvkOcdu2VUwFBIaj_an6rho2bqdZaIOqnRhxNZb-xAtL9XIjveOiRMzMHeQtTW54/s320/67966908421.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435054483691187762" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozr1WYkLDreyukbldzTbOVA00UKQWZ5vdlVXmyhyxB9HhPTv9aueDvbzIrbTmDMMwmw9P_v3qYGMrEAr6sFkrGrZN3mPRZFrpacYKbWMcN5WZqaDYH_B79v9hTP5NQ15bCU44VxIHMdU/s1600-h/magicstars.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozr1WYkLDreyukbldzTbOVA00UKQWZ5vdlVXmyhyxB9HhPTv9aueDvbzIrbTmDMMwmw9P_v3qYGMrEAr6sFkrGrZN3mPRZFrpacYKbWMcN5WZqaDYH_B79v9hTP5NQ15bCU44VxIHMdU/s320/magicstars.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435056597074343570" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Why the extra "r"?</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-gvca3y44k-BZqXKy6enJoCegPZTrs7Ckw_RkJYhokAS7Hw2896HKpV9KuVoT73VOH7RodEAVuOgzhBAanCt9EfrxQ7zOpaZOUGhwpHPrnmINTZYGeI6NJZuMVpguvdzmtVPvE1-Y-bc/s1600-h/berrytreats.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-gvca3y44k-BZqXKy6enJoCegPZTrs7Ckw_RkJYhokAS7Hw2896HKpV9KuVoT73VOH7RodEAVuOgzhBAanCt9EfrxQ7zOpaZOUGhwpHPrnmINTZYGeI6NJZuMVpguvdzmtVPvE1-Y-bc/s320/berrytreats.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435056731007007298" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">And for those that enjoy getting freaky with their fruits...</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTEt5yNKQILd0jnjqya1PIXEJe0iVDtvBlseI2GJchxl_VJp9omT20F_5423ceLRf5wqUNUc0_s-w6onnPF665povU_-9iEHMi-lIOKSRsPCItzEQaaInaUU8Pj_H8kOaQV6HCv8c1WE/s1600-h/freakyfruits.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTEt5yNKQILd0jnjqya1PIXEJe0iVDtvBlseI2GJchxl_VJp9omT20F_5423ceLRf5wqUNUc0_s-w6onnPF665povU_-9iEHMi-lIOKSRsPCItzEQaaInaUU8Pj_H8kOaQV6HCv8c1WE/s320/freakyfruits.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435056125285111026" /></a> <br /><br /><br />Then there are the ones that I can still hear churning through the brains of the creative team as the hours dragged by, stuck in a room with no inspiration left yet still, cereals to name. Someone mutters, "Alright, what've we got? Apples, it tastes like apples. We can't just call it apples....we need another word. 'Apple....', ummm.'Apple Bapple'...'Apple Capple'.....'Apple Dapple'...yeah...yeah, that's got a nice ring to it!":<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGfJJ49X9b6eJWCFY47XBQ19fA929bsjKkQv1smQY7i8x4DTqb6HunE6bgcMw8trPAYtdkLdaYWg0ND2-Kj4CxJWC726nddm60028qD6SpRohcamZgFbd8iU7o0R-9VWUoODCggESO8I/s1600-h/appledapples.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGfJJ49X9b6eJWCFY47XBQ19fA929bsjKkQv1smQY7i8x4DTqb6HunE6bgcMw8trPAYtdkLdaYWg0ND2-Kj4CxJWC726nddm60028qD6SpRohcamZgFbd8iU7o0R-9VWUoODCggESO8I/s320/appledapples.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435058880888829426" /></a><br /><br />Or the ones that just could not get any more literal and straight to the point.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuc1vkSUvgo33z01l4VNl-NN_TvwWnN3jk_nvQUesZRhsJzGmrT8hodgqsf2C54LfRu0S9fzuzm8DLjK8m8J_PaCYK367dBJ2nT00J0JtnvqjfmYE96GblKq27zCsxNhCYU_RsKSPJm4/s1600-h/nuttynuggets.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuc1vkSUvgo33z01l4VNl-NN_TvwWnN3jk_nvQUesZRhsJzGmrT8hodgqsf2C54LfRu0S9fzuzm8DLjK8m8J_PaCYK367dBJ2nT00J0JtnvqjfmYE96GblKq27zCsxNhCYU_RsKSPJm4/s320/nuttynuggets.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435059533398731602" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I'm unsure how, but this one somehow manages being both too literal and too vague. "With Almonds, Oats, & More (and you pour milk over it and eat it with a spoon...and then you chew it with your mouth...and swallow it down your esophagus and digest it in your belly and eventually poop it out...)". And yet the suspicious "More" leaves far too much mystery for my taste. </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmCcezl9PoqGTDTklDs9dpCg-FrqajHbSu3lZ9rxQC_uuHVthGAB6lI3n5sWKoR2MhHEeCJfAu7fPkTke8nqy1OlEZYyAT2cOAFZ5segFM7Ci2K0VmDyI8W8rwCx9EYcRB8RQ2gy2eLpQ/s1600-h/withalmondsoatsandmore.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmCcezl9PoqGTDTklDs9dpCg-FrqajHbSu3lZ9rxQC_uuHVthGAB6lI3n5sWKoR2MhHEeCJfAu7fPkTke8nqy1OlEZYyAT2cOAFZ5segFM7Ci2K0VmDyI8W8rwCx9EYcRB8RQ2gy2eLpQ/s320/withalmondsoatsandmore.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435059789500694642" /></a><br /><br /><br />These evidently are entirely void of inspiration since I suppose you can't call 'em "Poop Flakes":<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgslwt_n3nJWx7nRby-iwY87-iOjAr3pIAItdfFNoE9eqdTL_qduDUymPlZi45Oq9DFybjzCuagmyj5ggXdEgneQBTHaRDn6TGwwCNO8WGks6h82E8fnoS-zAV4yRRn1BRGhLj0UYwGRQ/s1600-h/wheatflakes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgslwt_n3nJWx7nRby-iwY87-iOjAr3pIAItdfFNoE9eqdTL_qduDUymPlZi45Oq9DFybjzCuagmyj5ggXdEgneQBTHaRDn6TGwwCNO8WGks6h82E8fnoS-zAV4yRRn1BRGhLj0UYwGRQ/s320/wheatflakes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435060851153997970" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">But why are they allowed to use this identical name?</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoGuCbxtL0cBwcwzp0qrWwGOeoJcyekeS1w3ApZ9qCM0KSkoYOB7b6DeQt2MVWbOn0jK0WQuqh0M0j5FA5j3sKNZOFMxeIszNxiVp41dWU1-X10m29WOGN0XUp0gNqo1udMQq-jfSjZeE/s1600-h/raisinbran.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoGuCbxtL0cBwcwzp0qrWwGOeoJcyekeS1w3ApZ9qCM0KSkoYOB7b6DeQt2MVWbOn0jK0WQuqh0M0j5FA5j3sKNZOFMxeIszNxiVp41dWU1-X10m29WOGN0XUp0gNqo1udMQq-jfSjZeE/s320/raisinbran.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435060991246334466" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a class="DiggThisButton" href=""><br /><br /><script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"><br /></script></a>JMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213398327481660682noreply@blogger.com4