Punctuality is Polite

"I've learned not to make a big scene of contrition when late. One quick, sincere apology is the way to handle it. Lying is acceptable too, especially if your lateness is caused by nothing other than poor time management and inconsideration."


-Bob Morris

Excerpt from Social Graces column of this months Town and Country

I loathe this man's perpetuating of the entitled and Godless generation.

Walking Home By The Glow of the Neon Lights

Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing Bang

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

I'm turning into one of those crazed women who doesn't leave her house except for cat food and brewers yeast. I haven't washed my hair since the day before Christmas Eve. It's gone through a varied way of being taking on a life of its own resembling oil slick to sexy bed head. I'm trying to adopt each character it evokes. Presently, it's just sticking to the side of my head in hopes that today will be the day I turn the faucet handle and brave the over zealous boiler's scalding water. I'm lying limp with it.
It's late December and I've slept with my window open for the last few nights just to offset the steam rising from the basement floor. It's okay. The privileged party has gone home for Christmas Vacation and NYU haunts sit empty by the early hour of midnight. I am relishing the somewhat quiet streets of East Village. But the camaraderie amongst the charcoal vodka guzzling crew is alive and well and has seemed to multiply this festive season.  I step over them often on my way to scour the shelves of the corner bodega and occasionally return the muffled Feliz Navidad they spit in my direction. I can tell by their bloodshot eyes, they recognize my familiar grey sweatpants. This makes me feel kindred in some fashion then painfully different at the same time.
At least they are socializing.
I let that pang of guilt pass me by and give my friendliest hello to my Middle Eastern counter man. He's come to look forward to our jovial two minute visits. No yeast so I buy a Virgin Mary candle instead and don't feel judged by my purchase. He's screaming at the bloody nosed chess player who has run for cover from his feisty opponent in the park and has interrupted our fellowship. Thinking I should have bought shampoo, I light the wick, take my natural Valerian Root sedative, breathe deeply in between the commonplace siren's pulses, and mediate on my near future and present condition.
 I call this behavior, resting.

What's your diagnosis?

It's Not The End, It's the Beginning

It's not that she hadn't considered the D word. She had.

But the bleakness of a weekday morning in her expansive home was too much to fathom. After a third cup of premium coffee and a few laughs with the women of The View, what would fill the vacuous space?
Loneliness. Or worse, enough time to figure out who the person she had become and why she bled so much hurt.

The idea of another red blooded man seeing her naked was appealing. She had an uncharacteristically fantastic body for a woman in her 40's and the voracious craving for sexual comments regarding it sent a quiver in between her taut legs.
The idea of another man touching her body was another story. She'd only known him.
Despite the night his older sister's friend breathed Wild Turkey on his blond bangs while taking his innocence on their Rec Room's orange shag carpet late Sophomore year, he'd only known her too.

Maybe this is what made their bond so unbreakable. Maybe it was the reason their resentment had its own slow pulse serving as a reminder of wasted youth. Spelling out H-A-T-E with every beat.

But divorce. It wasn't an option for the spit shined exterior of her well liked and widely accepted family.





So what was a girl to do?

Oh Holy Night

"And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear.  And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. ” Luke 2:8-11

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
O'er the world a star is sweetly gleaming,

Now come the wisemen from out of the Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friends.
He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger,

Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!
Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!

NYC Circa 1950

Photo by Vivian Maier

The Circle Game

"A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever.
The sun rises, and the sun goes down, and hastens to the place where it rises.
The wind blows to the south and goes around to the north; around and around goes the wind,
and on its circuits the wind returns. All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow, there they flow again." Ecclesiastes 1:4-7

Yesterday, a child came out to wander...*

What if I just started writing? And my fingers did not cease. If I bent my wrists in an awkward position to hear the tap, tap, tap of my aging keyboard keys and the words appeared as fast as my thoughts flashed across my center lobe or the one responsible for processing this tireless stream of sharp emotions I sometimes fail to fathom.

And the painted ponies go up and down...*

But then I notice, when my brain responds to enough guilt or want to sit in front of the blank paper at an attempt to make sense of the madness, I sink into a deeper set of feelings, stronger than the nagging ones before. And my neuroses becomes aware of my pursed lips and tight jaw, my beating heart feels the pressure of the immeasurable angst leaning on it for reassurance. And me and my rather blessed life in my East Village Manhattan apartment starts to fear that that I'm not living large enough.

We can't return, we can only look behind from where we came...*

I recently went to a friend's Mom's deeply touching Memorial Service on the oh so, peaceful Upper West Side. A college friend recalled stories of her kindness, her vivaciousness for life, her sense of adventure and one story in beautiful particular was during their $5 a day European trip, her constant mantra was "I WANT TO HAVE AN EXPERIENCE WITH A CAPITAL E"

There will be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty. Before the last revolving year is through...*

I smiled.
Isn't that what everyone wants out of this mind numbingly short life?
Isn't that a good thing?

 Or in my case... is it an insatiable void I'll never fill?

*Joni Mitchell

The Other Half

"That's the perk of being a tenant here [The Trump Tower] is you spend $10,000 in monthly maintenance fees and have endless access to Jean Georges kitchen."

--Our waiter's reply when asked how the chef feels about serving chicken fingers to children in the Five Star Dining Room.

Rejoice, Rejoice

"Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people and has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David, as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old." Luke 1:68-70

Emmanuel, God is with us. He has come. To redeem everyone that comes to Him.

The cross is the purpose of Christmas.

It's the season of Peace.

How you doing on that?

And on Every Street Corner You'll Hear

If there is anything that I have come to know by experience about New Yorkers is we are not idle.

As the last full shopping weekend falls upon us, City sidewalks, Busy sidewalks becomes the absolute understatement of the most wonderful time of the year.
And I've retreated up to my sweltering nest in the sky for some much needed alone time.

Unsilent Night* passes beneath my window tonight as all of the ancient boom box cassettes (yes I said cassettes) are tuned to chimes.  I can hear the bells...and I pour myself another Flower Power from the finger lakes of New York and open my window to the bitter wind of another northeast winter, then above the bustle, drink down the frosty beer in two swallows.

Life is full of simple pleasures. 

New York just happens to be full of creative minds who orchestrate thousands to their cause of fulfilling them to the fullest.

Apparently the finale procession ends at my Eastern park. And while they all pressed play on cue in Washington Square Park an hour ago, every tape is at a different part of the electronic Christmas carol and each bell tolls on it's uniquely own.

Sweet Genius Inspiration.

*Unsilent Night...>>

She Shines

Lovely Lady, you stand so proud and so tall.

Beautiful Lady, an inspiration to us all.

With your light, you made my life rich and free.

With your strength, you carry me along.

Lovely Lady, you are my song.

Shine on the East and Shine on the West.

Shine on my worst and Lady shine on my best.

Liberty.

-Charlie Teer

A Monday Morning.

I am sorry. I am so sorry that I can not capture the absolute strange delightfulness of my daily encounters...and the pleasure/pain they evoke simultaneously.

After a 4 AM alarm, I sit upright and see my breath, fasten a body warmer to my core, take the N Express train across the Manhattan Bridge, paranoid to close my eyes for fear that the heavy breathing gawker beside me, admiring my shoes might make a sudden move...exit at Sunset Park or as Realtors like to call it "South Slope" with its industrial buildings, condemned attached homes, and plastic bag strewn streets to tread lightly under the already bumper to bumper Gowanus Expressway, walk five dark blocks past the Brooklyn Marine Terminal with shattered windows and vacant shadows, around the corner to a mammoth steel oil tanker at port on the cold, calm Hudson River and the sun rising over Lady Liberty's torch.

This is set. And I'm 30 minutes early.

SantaCon 2011

It's quite a laborious feat to conduct business on a schedule on a Saturday with drunk on Macy's twinkling lights tourists, but to navigate Mnhattan's mania amongst these ho, ho, hoers puts a new spin on a jolly good time.

"For when dreams increase and words grow many, there is vanity; but God is the one you must fear." Ecclesiastes 5:7

Clear sign I have become numb to the streets of New York...

As I rode the escalator down with the Reverend Al Sharpton, the crazed hungry eyes fell upon me.

And while the masses, flocked to the man of the people, I pushed past and opened the glass door to Herald Square and its cold madness.

Following his advice of if you play the theatrics too much, you get in the way of your own cause.

Young Conformist Puppets

'
"We made it so that they could not exploit us and that's awesome' -Tammy Shapiro- OWS

For the record, it's not what the episode is about... the irony here is the scene we couldn't shoot portrayed OWS in a sympathetic light.

Christ's Not In It...

"If I say, "I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name," there is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot." Jeremiah 20:9

"To make Christianity a private affair while banishing all privacy is to relegate it to the rainbow's end or the Greek Calends." -C.S. Lewis

"Holiday" lights and "Holiday" trees adorn New York City in their grandeur.

It is a federal holiday when Christians celebrate, in the words of Isaiah the Prophet: “… to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government will be upon his shoulder, and his name will be called 'Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.'....."

So what is everyone else celebrating?

Excerpt From Freedom (The Other One)

He said that [she] who'd been left stranded to scavenge emotional meals on an island of great scarcity (Manhattan), should be forgiven for monopolizing conversations in her best attempt to feed herself.

-Jonathan Franzen

The present answer to perpetuating a day in the life of me and my opinion blog.

No Guts, No Glory

"But if we judged ourselves truly, we would not be judged. But when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world." 1 Corinthians 11:31-32


"Don't judge yourself."
That was the advice given to me by an actor on set after he inquired about my "lack" of blogging frequency. (I met this man on my first day on a television set in NYC...see Industry Lingo)

This comment perplexed me.

If we don't judge ourselves based on our actions or rather our inactivity then how will we know if we've met the mark or if we should correct our behavior. How can we chart our progress?

I'd just come from a casting meeting I initiated, where the agent apologized for not considering me, a white, blond, 30's, conservative, wife to say one measly line that would grant me $900 for the day and a few handy residual checks.

My co-workers told me it was ballsy. I said it was just a move forward.

I know there are people content and complacent?  I think that is more dangerous than chance.

For instance...

Got to the breakfast truck before dawn. It was dark. And a Monday.
 But something still did not look quite right.

Where were my walnuts? My favorite maple syrup? Our chef at the gill who knows exactly how I take my eggs and the story behind it? Our Colombian caterer brewing my ritualized Pedro's blend?

Gone? How? They worked for NBC for 12 years.
Got lazy?  Fired on the spot? And now they're at the tail end of the unemployment line....

Say what you will about the television/film business. (No Mercy Cut Throat) But it boils down to, they shuffled their feet and lost their seat. And it can happen to any one of us if we put our guard down.

I's tired. But I'd rather...
Conquer mountains tall and oceans deep,
Overcome every hill and dale,
Reach for the stars in the universe,
Dream big and dare to fail. -Glessing

Isn't it time to live a life that will stir your heart and motivate others?

Presto Chango

"Trust the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” Proverbs 3:5

And Gomer Pile said...Surprise, Surprise, Surprise.

The NBC powers that be just added another episode to our season.

That means at least another ten days tacked onto my stint in New York.

Which means another month extension on my lease.

And the money creeps in and flies out of my pocket.

Yep. In a New York Minute, everything can change...

But will the newest cast member debuting in January give us enough swooning staying power?

Cough Hack

Reason to not love NYC Number One:

I have absolutely no say in the matter of whether I choose to be a second hand smoker in this town.

Gotham's Gravity

"...For why should my liberty be determined by someone else’s conscience?" 1 Corinthians 10:29

The undeniably powerful tractor beam that is New York has embraced my broken spirit and brought more peace into my exhausted bones which Georgia has rung out of my already lifeless body.

That wasn't the plan.

I must have been hypnotized with the no place like "home" for the holidays propaganda bullshit that fills the air waves this time of year.

I fell for it.

Shaken into semi-consciousness, flying over the dazzling orange lights of the Empire State's iconic emblem last night, but fully came to on this crisp autumn morning, hand picking my orchard apples at a farmer's market, steps from my front door.

I realize why so many are attracted to and decidedly call New York their home.

It isn't physics. It's FREEDOM.

What is more important?

Seeking Peace and Contentment

"On a high and lofty mountain you have set your bed, and there you went up to offer sacrifice."Isaiah 57:7

"It is becoming abundantly clear. If I move to the country...I will never have time to write."

Could it be New York is less volatile?

Unnecessary Punishment

"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," Romans 3:23

I've completely lost my motivation to write.

Not that I would expect anyone else to take notice of drivel vs. drive.

But for me, the fact is painfully evident.

One through the physical void of actually vomiting thoughts onto a screen.

And two, by the undeniable guilt that plagues me at day's end; that sends me into a fitful sleep, wrestling with the lack of productivity and the growing amount of books I know I will never read nor write.

My latest match transpired on the last shoot date of our most recent Law and Order Episode. In a sleepless fog, I sat at a round table with Treat Williams and JP our writer and discussed what moves us to move.

To write. To perform. To excel. To chase the dream.

And in one of the most candid conversations I have experienced in this facade filled business to date, was we all admitted the kick-starter was GUILT.

This guilt so all consuming, it shadowed the passionate joy of a goal met. A finished product.

Chastised. I thought....

My writing focus has narrowed.

My political interest has become anger.

My love affair with New York bi-polar.

My insane city life mundane.

And because of this tunnel vision, I've failed to find the extraordinary in my ridiculously inspired present existence. I've learned to complain.

I have in fact become a true New Yorker.

But without the Valium.

How does one become so terribly lost and how do I find my way back with the challah crumb trail?

From Both Sides Now...

The city is saying enough.

Daily News

New York Post

In Idiot Advertising News...

Shinola

But the king shall rejoice in God; all who swear by him shall exult, for the mouths of liars will be stopped." Psalm 63:11

Bullshitting. This is what I am discovering is the finely tuned skill for success in this business. A big heaping, polished pile of shit disguised with finesse, steeped in hot air blowing, under the table scheming, and lip service served with a smile you would second guess.

Let me be clear. Although it is all consuming and I witness people falling prey to the behavior on a daily basis, it is not what I will adopt.

I'd rather be a dim star who still smells sweet.

Nothing To See Here

New Yorker's never cease to amaze me.

Tonight a crowd gathered on the park's edge to witness an ill-fated rat die a painfully slow poisoned death.

I prayed a cab would pull up and squish it out of its misery.

And then I walked away with a pain in my heart.

Call Me Crazy

"For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. " Romans 8:38-39

Resting on the profound words of this gospel hymn and this glorious God filled day.

The love of God is greater far

Than tongue or pen can ever tell;
It goes beyond the highest star,
And reaches to the lowest hell;

The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
God gave His Son to win;
His erring child He reconciled,
And pardoned from his sin.

Oh love of God, how rich and pure!

How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure—
The saints’ and angels’ song.

When hoary time shall pass away,

And earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,
When men who here refuse to pray,
On rocks and hills and mountains call,

God’s love so sure, shall still endure,
All measureless and strong;
Redeeming grace to Adam’s race—
The saints’ and angels’ song.

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade;

To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

Composed by Frederick Lehman in 1917 rooted in an old Jewish Poem written in the eleventh century. The last verse, italicized was penciled on the wall of a narrow room in an insane asylum by a man said to have been demented. The profound lines were discovered when they laid him in his coffin. The general opinion was that this inmate had written the epic in moments of sanity.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Get Thee to A Nunnery

Flute: O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans- William Shakespeare

Will you hold my pole? (Sound department)

Do you like thin or thick sausage with your peppers? (Catering)

Bend down and move your mark..uh a little to the left. (Camera)

Oh man, if I was your husband? (Teamsters)

Hey babe, sexy mama, honey, sweetie.... (All Departments)

Slurs, innuendos, oogling, lewd jokes, sexual gestures are everyday vernacular on a television set and wildly accepted, ignored, recanted, or returned.

And if it makes you uncomfortable, either speak up, man up, don't engage, nip it in the bud and move on.

But to defame character, dredge the past, cry wolf. or seek 15 minutes of fame like Ms. Sensitive, Karen Kraushaar and her comrades are in accusing GOP hopeful Herman Cain is just plain unsympathetic.

And for you confused feminists out there cursing my name, I post this Truth for

your viewing PLEASURE.

On Top of Spaghetti

I'm turning into a meatball.

And not a lean, lightly breaded baked kind, but the full fat juicy type, rolled with veal sauteed in hot olive oil, served with greasy sauce on top of gooey cheesy buttered roll.

This visual transformation is happening gradually like a slow home cooked meal simmering with a huge helping of burning love.

Now, eating three catered meals (secret ingredient, oil) a day, plus a myriad of snacks equaling enough food to make up the entire caloric count of two chubby kids is a ridiculous perk. One that saves me an obscene amount of money. Especially in a city where deviled eggs have become the next it food and run you a trendy $20 bill.

And there's more...

In addition to exercising that excessive perk of working 65 hour weeks and wolfing my rising body weight in food, I also took advantage of flexing the minor muscle tone I have left and visited our friendly on set casting office, introduced myself, explained my experienced reporter's bckground, and asked if I could play one on T.V.

I hope it pays in exponential dividends like my food consumption...

Sing, Sing, Sing, Sing-Along

Special Victims Unit

My latest face off with Eastern Medicine's version of stress management.

It won.

Life Cycles From A Cynic

"And I applied my heart to know wisdom and to know madness and folly. I perceived that this also is but a striving after wind." Ecclesiastes 1:17

I know I've crossed over the line of youthful and accepting to old and intolerant when I am freshed dressed blown dry and head to the streets before sunrise and there are smatterings of obliterated bodies resembling zombies left over from Hallows Eve stinking of over imbibing and bummed cigarettes at my front door and I turn up my collar along with my pointed nose with disapproval.

I know I've down right had it when a bloody Tin Man approaches me on a dark corner and asks if I would join him for just one drink, while diving in front of me to grab a slice of cold crust at my feet.

But the defeating and evident truth that I've been beat is when I find myself on the Uptown 6 train heading to work at 5 AM surrounded by makeshift costumes warmed over and bloodshot eyes of laughing revelers that outnumber me fun to none.

And I bury my nose in the Post and let the tinge of homesickness wash over my oh so grown and responsible tired body.

Am I too young to say that youth is a disease from which we all recover? ~Dorothy Fulheim

Just A Nor'Easter

"While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.” Genesis 8:22

Today.

Something happens more substantial than October rain.

Steam rushes off the white caps of the ever present Hudson as driving wet white snow, blankets the golden gingkos. The river resembles a smoldering nights fire and the down jackets pulled from storage 2 months early are greased with a glistening sheen. Coal covered slush whips from bald tires of hallowed eye cab drivers and welcomes in another day of work.

It's October.

I sit on Captain's leather couch and write this on my mini computer/phone that fits in the palm of my hand as we are, so they say "quiet on set".

The french director can't even make eye contact with those lesser and shudders with the notion for 2nd teamers to read the lines of less than profound formula writers.

I should talk....

I've worked nearly 70 hours at this junction of this sleeting Saturday so I'm more irritable than should be.

My excuse for me in New York has morphed into another space; as it has currently become the most fascinating character in this television show and a fine opponent in the mind game I play with myself. I like to call it important work.

I've fallen into a position of privy which allows me to pitch scripts and audition daily and I find myself to be so disillusioned with the lack of humanity and heart that the most meaningful moment for me is the fact I will be sharing beers with the camera crew tonight at wrap.

Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's because I miss my husband. Maybe it's because I stand at an Observation Window in a built, make believe set more then I stand at my own kitchen sink.

Could it just be time for Motherhood?

Peaceful Revolution?

“All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work.” 2 Timothy 3:16-17

Woke up with enough time to do nine push ups and a handful of jumping jacks to Michael Franti before catching the crosstown bus from hell to another simply marvelous joy filled 15 hour work day where I am (without sarcasm) content.

On this early morning commute a rather irate pregnant woman demanded to get on bus while the driver repeatedly closed the door on her and said there's no where to sit but his lap. She screamed and flailed her arms until the driver relented. Once she made her point and squeezed her non showing belly and grossly scowling forehead between the white line and four raised armpits, all of the passengers had turned against her.

But before the nonsense ensued, in my four minute attempt to work off the late night catering in the privacy of my quiet home, I honed in on Franti's lyrics...Oh My God.

And prayed for the peace that would come if we would all cry out to Him.

Oh my, oh my God
here mama they got us livin’ suicide singin’
Oh my, oh my God, oh my God

Listenin' to my stethoscope on a rope
internal lullabies, human cries
thumps and silence, the language of violence
algorithmic, cataclysmic, seismic, biorhythmic
you can make a life longer, but you can’t save it
you can make a clone and then you try to enslave it?
stealin’ DNA samples from the unborn
and then you comin’ after us
‘cause we sampled a James Brown horn?
scientists who’s God is progress
a four-headed sheep is their latest project
the CIA runin’ like they're Jones from Indiana
but they still won’t talk about that Jones in Guyana
this ain’t no cartoon, no one slips on bananas. Singing Oh my God. MF

Who can save us from ourselves?

Stand-In, Job Description: Stand In

Sit down...Why thanks, I'd love to.

Are They Fighting the Same Beast?

Wherever the Wind Takes Me

"He made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun knows its time for setting." Psalm 104:19

Its cold. But not the bitter cold of the hallmark holidays are upon us cold. But the kind of cold that reminds you that they're near. And the cold that says time waits for no one.

But that's a new notion. Not one you are acutely aware of when caught up in back to school shopping trips and bags of stale candy corn. That frightful realization that time paces itself under a different set of rules and doesn't keep track of closet turnovers and the warm return of pumpkin spice lattes. The cold I feel now takes me back to a place of ache, that chilling and obvious feeling of anticipation. To be prepared for something.

But what?

Funny thing about living in a city where millions of round the worlders come to visit is that those of us waking and working don't go to the top of the Statue of liberty, take in the view from Empire State, or skate under 30 Rocks shadow. We are not spending our days accumulating SoHo shopping bags, our sunsets sippping on a Hudson tour or our evenings warming the orchestra seats of the the Lion King.

Giving God the Glory and the thanks to dramatic television, I view New York City with an intimate and unconventional lens.

This morning I lie on my back in the most secluded corner of sensational Central Park hidden from the eyes of 110th street and amongst the radiant warm colors of another year drawing nearer to end. Props has brought in a few fake trees they position around me. Their green waxy surface will be out of place in one week's time. The last time I was in the park, the forsythia lit up the walk.

The yellow crime scene tape flaps against the oaks. And electric scrambles up ladders strategically positioned out of the shot. The producer pulls on his collar as the timecards and budget rack up.

We're chasing the sun again. It passes over the island so much earlier these days. We never catch it.

A stiff breeze sends the clouds across the October sky and rustles the weeping Willow's limbs. And I wonder what else the wind will rush in.

Do you ever feel like time is running out?*

Qaddafi's did.

The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste

"Making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is." Ephesians 5:16-17

A record 15 hours locked on the fourth floor of an abandoned psych ward amongst rubber helmet patients, checking for stains on moldy love seats in isolation rooms is disturbing enough.

But the fact that I am so depleted by nights end, I rob you of the pleasure of reading the full disclosure reminiscent of One Flew Over a Cuckoo's Nest and all its maniacal details is just a shame.

Memo for tomorrow...

I will write on set.

I will write on set.

I will write on set.

I will. I will.

Pass the Peace Pipe

"Great peace have those who love your law; nothing can make them stumble." Psalm 119:65

Maybe the multiple stabbings in my neighborhood won't make me stumble but could encourage me to flee home....>>

Is His strength your solace?

A (Back)ground Actor's Life For Me

A few of our friends telling it just like it is.
Behold, the glamorous life....

Sign of the Times

Sad but true...>>

Sticktoitivness

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us."Hebrews 12:1

Sick and Tired.

I'm not talking about the coughing, hacking, sneezing, hollow eyed mid week MTA commuters.

Sick and tired is how I describe my swollen face, blood shot eyes, stuffy head, and weak and sore limbs. Just hung up with my casting agent. For the next 16 days, NBC Universal will be shooting three episodes in pure chaos tandem. Translating into double overtime. Resulting in mental and physical exhaustion.

I lie on the table this seasonably cold and dismal rainy night, as a former EMT in Harlem during the crack epidemic sticks needles into every one of my closed gates and manipulates them until my muscles spasm and spread shock waves through my tense body.

It's my therapy.

And my therapist says my skin, body, and brain are whacked out for two reasons:

Exposure: (ie New York does not agree with me and I should get the hell out)

or

Expression:(ie New York does not agree with me and I should get the hell out)

He also mentions post traumatic stress syndrome as another theory....My wrists both pop from the pressure and I close my eyes and feel the soft raft underneath my body float gently on top of the salty Caribbean.

Where it all (husband met, best friend murdered, secrets kept, Wachovia sued, money stolen, home lost, security suffered) started.

As he pulled the sharp points from the tips of my ears, I coherently decided that here (where I ultimately fled) is where it will end.

"Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are." Chinese Proverb

What's with the holding on?

Today

"Knowing their thoughts, he said to them, "Every kingdom divided against itself is laid waste, and no city or house divided against itself will stand." Matthew 12:25

Jokes On Them

O offspring of Israel his servant, sons of Jacob, his chosen ones! 1 Chronicles 16:13

I Love New York.

Reason 99

The privilege of laughing at Relatively Speaking: Three One-Act Comedies on Broadway written by self deprecating Jews about Jews starring Jews alongside Jews on Yom Kippur Eve.

And getting an upgrade cause a drunk Irishman vomited behind my cheap seat.

The Suckers

Is this okay?

Look Alike

As I walked out my front door so to speak, Nurse Jackie crew was unloading.

Spent day in Harlem, logged 11 hours, came home and Nurse Jackie crew was still shooting.

So glad I'm Kelli's stand-in.

Today in photos of Edie Falco in Tompkins Square Park

I'll Be Dead Soon

"commit to the lord whatever you do and your plans will succeed.." proverbs 16:3

nothing like a long bus ride under flourescent lights, listening to a dominican woman scream how she hates her life, to decompress from my 15 hour day at the office and to reflect on the past and hedge my bets on the yet to come.

steve jobs is dead at 56, and his legacy is in the hands of almost every haggard commuter tonight. union square is full as usual and a lone man holds a sign high above his rainbow afro reading..."the end is near."

a funny thing happened when i transitioned from struggling back ground actor and hopeful but seldom principal auditioner to everyday grunt crew on a drama series, it become evident that i did not need to chase the marquis lights in a couture gown and heels. i could and suprisingly am perfectly content to pull on dungarees and work boots to be a part of the magnificent whole.

to watch dolly grips move chasies, gaffers climb ladders to hang blonde lights, camera ops don black ninja suits to alleviate reflection, director of photography gauge the bulb strengths, focus pullers shift, set dressers paint, props set details, boom mics doge chaos, background strategically placed, actors hitting their marks, and at word cut, producers nodding their heads with approval.

being surrounded by people chasing their passion regardless of naysayers, setbacks, exhaustion, who are going forward into their life and not settling for mediocrity but for meaning has been the greatest gift in living in new york.

"your time is limited. don't waste it living someone else's life."

steve jobs

what will you do with the time you have left?

(widespread outage of internet and cable in lower manhattan. and alas, my blackberry doesn't allow for capital letters. bet the iphone does.)

Rowdy but Right

"A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." Proverbs 15:1

And the media is having a field day.

Not this country boy's shining moment, but he does endorse my guy.

Bocephus later apologized for the extreme analogy saying he was not comparing either contemporary to Hitler but making the point that the two (Boehner and Obama) are enemies with nothing in common.

We say grace, we say ma'am, if you ain't into that, we don't give a damn.

Land Spreading Out, Far and Wide

"I'd rather sit alone on a pumpkin and have it all to myself than be crowded on a velvet cushion."Henry David Thoreau

The Highlights

"O simple ones, learn prudence; O fools, learn sense." Proverbs 8:5

Location Everywhere:

Hamilton Heights where cleavage baring Puerto Ricans call pasty white boys, niggers on 141st Street. Hamilton Heights where runny nosed babies stand barefoot on wet pavement to catch a glimpse of Ice T in black leather. Hamilton Heights where rust colored roaches crawl up the walls and over greasy cardboard boxes of Popeye's chicken. Where fiercely obese women in yellow sweats wearing out the elastic waist bands, sit in lawn chairs and litter their patch of shit stained dirt with Swisher Sweet butts and paper cups. Where the rookie cops straight out of the academy stand on the corner with proud freshly shaved baby faces, working in hell for 25k a year cause they have fast legs. If they can stand the beat here, they'll make it any where.

I hand out chocolate from craft services to the young boys on bikes cause its two in the morning, mom's not around, and they look hungry. The teamsters keep encouraging me to call a car service at wrap, cause the hooded rats are waiting to pounce as I walk to the train.

Hamilton Heights where red lights are short. And the mind set for more out of life is waning.

Are we a sorry sight?

Cain vs. Unable 2012

Or has the liberal left decided he's too black?

Must See TV

"May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us— yes, establish the work of our hands."Psalm 90:17

Another day, another script approved by the producing powers that be...

Wrapped the 5th episode tonight and the minds of everyone involved journeys to the place of a viable reality...will we all be employed by season's end?

Now, I would be treading lightly to merely mention my current employer, considering the cast, crew, and teamsters in abundance crowded into the courtroom for our Sexual Harassment Seminar which was heavily laced with corporate policy (i.e. Do Not Use Company Name in any Social Media Outlet).

I like my job. I am a loyal servant.

But, I have my civilian concerns.

Are you watching?

Change Agent

"Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings." Isaiah 58:12

I've gone quiet. Not just in my writing. But in my daily life in our broken, rotting society.

My pastor called my name aloud when he spoke of those sitting in the pew of Salvation in silence this morning.

When asked, I don't rebuke or refuse. But I've ceased in the initial offering. And my fortified wall is crumbling in the name of tolerance and the desire to be understood.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. It's only about Him. And when I've shared His word with anyone in my life, it has been to His glory and never to my demise.

If I'm accepted, it's because of Him. If I am shunned, it's because of Him.

Exalting His name is to my benefit and to the recipient of my sharing, a seed.

So I repent this morning, pray my words don't fall on deaf ears and remember this world is...

Just dessert dust and empty shadows,
All promises that turned to lies,
The gods offer fail and betray me,
You alone are truth and life.

So I'll worship only at the feet of Jesus,
His cup alone, my holy grail,
There'll be no other gods before Him,
Just Jesus only will never fail.

Are you convicted?

Courtesy of Ice and Rain

Don't we live the life?

I hope the Law and Order die hards start playing nice and embrace this girl...she's worth it.

State of the Union

Dear President Obama:
You are the thirteenth President under whom I have lived and unlike any of the others, you truly scare me.
You scare me because after months of exposure, I know nothing about you. You scare me because I do not know how you paid for your expensive Ivy League education and your upscale lifestyle and housing with no visible signs of support. You scare me because you did not spend the formative years of youth growing up in America and culturally you are not an American. You scare me because you have never run a company or met a payroll. You scare me because you have never had military experience, thus don't understand it at its core. You scare me because you lack humility and 'class', always blaming others.You scare me because for over half your life you have aligned yourself with radical extremists who hate America and you refuse to publicly denounce these radicals who wish to see America fail.. You scare me because you are a cheerleader for the 'blame America 'crowd and deliver this message abroad. You scare me because you want to change America to a European style country where the government sector dominates instead of the private sector. You scare me because you want to replace our health care systemwith a government controlled one. You scare me because you prefer 'wind mills' to responsibly capitalizing on our own vast oil, coal and shale reserves. You scare me because you want to kill the American capitalist goose that lays the golden egg which provides the highest standard of living in the world. You scare me because you have begun to use 'extortion' tactics against certain banks and corporations. You scare me because your own political party shrinks from challenging you on your wild and irresponsible spending proposals.You scare me because you will not openly listen to or even consider opposing points of view from intelligent people.You scare me because you falsely believe that you are both omnipotent and omniscient.You scare me because the media gives you a free pass on everything you do.You scare me because you demonize and want to silence the Limbaugh's, Hannity's, O'Reillys and Becks who offer opposing,conservative points of view. You scare me because you prefer controlling over governing. Finally, you scare me because if you serve a second term I will probably not feel safe in writing a similar letter in 8 years.

--Lou Pritchett

Nipped Bud

"The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful." Matthew 13:22

The idea of ceasing all shenanigans of keeping up appearances that I have time and clever thought enough to continue this testifying blog has crossed my mushy mind all week.

Just the mere inner dialogue I have with myself over the last date/content of the most recent post is enough to make my already clenched neck seize up with unnecessary and unwanted stress.

Now, some of you may say, "Wow, she is dramatic."

But for those of you that already read my words know this is an accurate description and have no need to forgive me for just being true to form.

Following this rambling, I would like to make an announcement.

New York City has a powerful grasp and tight lock jaw that continues to be a beastly force to reckon with...and impedes juggling any other aspect of life that would require me being fully present and awake. (Evangelizing my faith, Keeping my butt up, Grocery shopping, to name a few.)

Moreover, on a daily basis I undecidedly come to the resounding realization and tangible doubt that I have or have not entered the home stretch of my stay here and will be heading south at the last Law and Order dun, dun. (That's May 1)

And in this uncertainty, I ask myself a few questions.

Spend wildly and soak it up along with the other irresponsible but fashionable spendthrifts?

Save NBC's good money they oddly pay me and hole up in my 400 square foot closet in the sky until winter passes then flee with (gasp) money in my pocket.

Quit writing?

Limit my blog to one or two quality posts where I have the brain function to grasp words with depth and meaning?

Join the crust punks in creating beds made of paper plates from Two Brothers Pizza's $1 slice sham?

Or turn my eyes towards Jesus, look full in his wonderful face, and know the things of life will grow strangely dim?

Too. Many. People.

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.” 1 Peter 3:8

Are cities God's will?

In Progress

To paraphrase Hemingway...First drafts are crap.

My writing group told me I should be writing an hour a day for days before revising for weeks.

Being the less than stellar student that I am, I wrote my last story the afternoon it was due.

Here is the humble beginning.

Her bloodshot eyes were open well before she heard the morning paper hit the screen door and land with a fateful thud onto the steps. She had been waiting for it. The incessant hum of her phone had ceased around 11 the night before and the four hours of restless sleep showed in her creamy butter skin. She turned her head towards the bay window, which was partially fogged over from 100% humidity and caught a small reflection of her old trophies still lined up on her Tom Blue dresser. Mama kept her room the way Samantha left it when she headed for the University of Alabama in hasty pursuit of her MRS Degree.

“Giants Tears.” She said.

That’s what her daddy used to call the rain. Her voice cracked as she swung her French manicured feet onto the dusty pink shag carpet. She reached for the orange canister of mothers little helpers on her water-stained nightstand. Threw a couple of them back and cinched her robe tight. Heavy raindrops fell on the broken brick patio, pooling in the cracked grout. The ambitious paperboy put his prepubescent muscle into it so that the majority of The Birmingham Ledger had come free if its plastic bag and soaked through to the sports section. But even the rain couldn’t wash away this mess. There was the headline in bold Times New Roman. And the 3x5 color photo she begged the photographer to relinquish to her, bleeding across the front page. Despite the simple small town writing, the scathing story read the way she feared.

Scandal, Inheritance, Meager Upbringing, Promiscuity.

She skipped down to the last line. Mrs. Samantha Thomas is married to the RC Cola heir, William John Thomas III. He couldn’t be reached for comment. The pain tore into her gut as she fought to keep last night’s memory and the bottle of Knob Creek at bay. She couldn’t undo this. Not this time.

She sat at her mom’s old breakfast table drinking instant coffee out of a chipped Amelia’s Island mug. Her Blackberry rested on her Grandmama’s crocheted tablecloth. It’s blinking red light distracting her from her new grim reality. She picked it up and thumbed through the messages.

One from Mary Ryan marked urgent. “Are we still on for brunch?”

The stylized ritual of meeting for Sunday morning brunch started shortly after their ten-year reunion from Birmingham High School. They had all agreed they needed to get back together and catch up on the fleeting years that bridged braces to crow’s feet... It only took a couple of meetings when the Sunday excursion became each and every one of their vices in their otherwise vacuous worlds.

Of course she would be there. But she’d be a while; she was on the south side of town at her parent’s house.

Crimson Creek was a quaint and pretentious neighborhood in the heart of Birmingham. Obvious that it had once had a unique local appeal, it was now overrun with overpriced clothing boutiques, skinny latte coffee shops, and the latest trend in farm to table restaurants. It was their haven. And the perfect opportunity to showcase a new linen pantsuit or don the turquoise necklace purchased on the last trip to Santa Fe.

In the foyer of the restaurant, B'hams finest stood proud in their Prada shoes hiding their jealous glares and darting eyes behind designer sunglasses. Yes, while the rest of the world were climbing into their Sunday clothes thread bare with pew warming, the cosmopolitan were sipping champagne and spreading good cheer and hot air while making the crucial decision between the lox omelet and creamy eggs Benedict. But hopefully not reading the Sunday paper.

Mary Ryan and Elizabeth were already seated in the back of the restaurant shifting in their seats like worried hens, when the infamous little giggle came around the corner and clicked her kitten heels in perfect rhythm towards them, running her fingers through her perfect blond curls. She looked unscathed.

“Oh you cute things don’t get up. I am sorry I am a tad late, have you been waiting long?”

She eyed their half full mimosas stained with lip-gloss and bent down and gave each of the women a quick peck on the cheek. She smelled like fresh lilies in the morning.

He Weeps...

"If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land." 2 Chronicles 7:14

Remember Today, Everyday.

And turn your thoughts, words, and deeds to heaven because He is the only way for our country's salvation.

Dichotomy

"Precious treasure and oil are in a wise man's dwelling, but a foolish man devours it." Proverbs 21:20

Missed the big job talk. Thank God.

Was anyone listening anyway?

Spent the sunset hours on the stoop of rundown row houses in ChinaTown watching the Tai Chi loyalists dance amongst the rotting fish smell so commonplace beneath the Manhattan Bridge.

In between takes, Mariska, Kelli, Ice, and Danny put up their feet in their lavish full size trailers, drove to set by more than compensated Teamsters and lined up, with paid for street parking permits issued by Bloomberg's office.

In other big spending industry news....>>All ABoardWalk

Labor:Taking It Up The Ass

"We were not idle when we were with you, nor did we eat anyone’s food without paying for it. On the contrary, we worked night and day, laboring and toiling so that we would not be a burden to any of you. We did this, not because we do not have the right to such help, but in order to offer ourselves as a model for you to imitate. For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: “The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.”2 Thessalonians 3:7-10

Where is our President today?

Rubbing elbows with his union comrades in Detroit.

Still counting down the days until the "Big Speech" on jobs.

Waiting with baited breath after the government just reported that not a single job, none, nada, was created last month.

Whatever he plans to say will be theoretical. And nothing, not one thing, nada that he can say will make the American people feel better.

Upon inauguration, Obama said his stimulus would create 3 million jobs and to brace ourselves shovel ready for the influx....Today, 3 million nearly lost.

American dream you say?

Obama's anti-capitalist witch hunt, disguised as compassion and environmentally friendly is shattering the best job making machine nation we've ever known.

MILLIONS are out of work or stuck in part time jobs.

Now follow me...You are the President....You have grand ideas for creating thousands of jobs...Do you wait to unveil this to the citizens on unemployment who are dependent on the government for food, water, and wiping of their asses.

NO.

Do you pump $863 billion dollars of federal tax dollars straight into our economy, the largest amount in American history to trick and shock our hearts into hard working, tenacious, prideful people again.

Oh wait, you already did that.

It didn't work.

So what's the scheme forThursday?

A photo op. A ploy to save one man's job come next election.

Or plans to put up more bureaucratic red tape to suffocate the last bit of life out of the United States.

Mmmm?

New Yorker Syndrome

"I appeal to you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught; avoid them. For such persons do not serve our Lord Christ, but their own appetites, and by smooth talk and flattery they deceive the hearts of the naive." Romans 16:17-18

Ever had a quasi friend that challenged every one of your words or deeds spoken or done with a self righteous and antagonistic tone that was self serving and meant specifically to elevate themselves and squash your spirit?

Me too.

And I place the emphasis on HAD.

Two Minute Warning

"Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them." Psalm 127:4-5

I just hung up the phone with my 92 year old Grandma.

She told me she had crocheted a baby's blanket for us six years ago when we got engaged.

And finally just sold it in a tag sale.

A done deal.

My sentiments exactly.

I can come up with every excuse not to, so what's with everyone else making the opposing call?

And is my time running out?

A Statistic

"Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife." Proverbs 21:9

In nine years of togetherness, it is blatantly understood and verbally admitted that my husband and I are considerably more agreeable on vacation.

What should I do about the other 50 weeks?

*L&O SVU has been taping for one month, eight months more to follow.

Summer's Out Of Reach

"He made the moon to mark the seasons, and the sun knows when to go down." Psalm 104:19

My view from my back porch if I was a famous novelist and didn't live in New York...

I will remember tonight and the fruit forward of a chilled Santa Barbara Pinot Noir staining my sun drenched lips while my tired feet linger in the glistening bay.

I will taste the tangy spice of the last steamed shrimp of summer off my fingertips and feel the breeze in my salty yellow hair.

I will hear the slow cadence of a pelican's wings and the faint splash of a fishing lure.

I will picture me here, smelling of coco butter, barefoot, and smiling.

And recall fondly as the crowds elbow me out, the freezing air cuts at my nose, and slush in the sink holes of inferior asphalt gathers at the street corner, that my last hot New York summer was one for the records.

Okay, so don't hold me to "last." Just officially over.

Isn't it nice to grasp life in the present?

Goodnight Irene

"He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm."Mark 4:39

Proud to report that all is dry and well.

Bloomberg comes out unscathed...

Rats flooded from their holes apparently can swim...

My husband proved my theory he can sleep through anything...

And being trapped on the quiet island of Manhattan for 36 hours was the respite I needed.

Must Not Have Seen Bloomberg's Numerous Press Conferences...

Riding out Hurricane Irene along the East River Park Promenade

Impending Doom

"It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain."Isaiah 4:6

Between Manhattan earth shaking move and Irene's rapid approach, six million of us are counting on it...

Are You Ready?

Say It Isn't So...

The Obaminators...

Me, Beaming

"I'm so glad you brought me here to New York."

-My husband telling me tonight at dinner, how much he likes this town...

What Energy?

Me: "One hour please."

Quigong Specialist: "One hower?"

Me: "Yes"

1 hour later....

Quigong Specialist: One hower up, but you body so tyerd, I go Lawnger."

As he threw hot stones on my sore butt cheeks and climbed up on the table.

Squad Room Theatrics

"Work hard, but not just to please your masters when they are watching. As slaves of Christ, do the will of God with all your heart. Work with enthusiasm, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people." Ephesians 6:6

Three Cups of Coffee Later....

Spent the high sun part of day in the Flatiron District striking my best bad ass stance and staring down the face of the camera for Kelli Giddish's opening credits photo shoot.

Between Ted Kotcheff sitting tall in a Law and Order Directors Chair, and the hair, makeup, wardrobe, and apple boxes galore lit well in the camera's flash, the thousands of European tourists making a B Line to Mario Batali's Eataly, thought I was the real deal.

I will not be surprised if my likeness ends up on You Tube as a bonafide poser.

Despite another setting sun and shaken spirit, I am so thankful I have a revolving seat in any Teamster's 15 passenger van to get me to where my 2.1 million dollar earning actress is at any given rush hour.

Did I mention I am living life in a full on daze?

Oh How We Miss him and Honor Him

Feeling Groovy

"Like the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud on the day of rain, so was the appearance of the brightness all around. Such was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. And when I saw it, I fell on my face, and I heard the voice of one speaking." Ezekiel 1:28

If you talk to an unrelated selection of New Yorkers, you will most often find a similar theme weaved into their colorful stories of just when and how they made this city their home.

Their resounding message will sound simple really.

Came chasing a dream, carrying a guitar, following a girl, searching for more, escaping the same, and they just stayed....

They sludged through the rude winters and suffered through the stifling heat.

The minute hand on New York's internal clock ticked faster than others, their feet fell in line, and they blinked for a mere moment which turned into another calendar year.

"Hard to believe. Hard to believe." A repeated mutter on chapped and glossed lips alike.

The tips of the ginkgo trees are already curling their edges and turning a golden brown.

The breeze from the East River makes me grab for my forgotten sweater and the familiar ache of Fall settles in my chest.

I could consider this another fleeting Monday at the office.

A foot soldier in this fleeting fight, punching the proverbial time clock of life out of duty. A carbon copy of fellow ants forging forward and missing the view.

The rain has come and gone. The director has yelled action for what I'm hoping is the last time. My cold swollen feet are wrinkled from the umbrella's drip, and I hear the New York boys whisper in my ear, "Look up and remember why you're here."

"Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last.
Just kicking down the cobble stones.Looking for fun, and feeling groovy."

Simon and Garfunkel

*View from Law and Order Location Set.

God's Promise and the 59th Street Bridge.

Today and Yesteryear

Avenue A and Tompkins Square Park in the rain — circa 1967

Avenue A and Tompkins Square Park in the rain-circa 2011

I spent it indoors...obviously not writing.