Show Me Real

I am not a television producer, director, writer, gaffer, grip or any other crew member logging $2000 a day.

But I am a sometimes viewer, would be actress and I am going to tread lightly out onto a limb and say, we don't need another HBO series about young fashionista girls living in Manhattan, trying to find their way and themselves in good footwear and using limited vocabulary.

But tell that to the writers of GIRLS as we all stand on cobblestones in the meatpacking district amongst the Ferrari's and butt cheek baring skirts. The clock strikes two, while they discuss if the steady cam captured the pivotal shot of the heroine back lit by the glow of Standard's Boom Boom Room on the tenth take.

To quote dialogue of the scene's demographics...

"Like, I'm just saying."

*It's highly possible GIRLS will become a hit show and I will be eating that popular phrase.

Yo, I'm Fightin

"When I applied my mind to know wisdom and to observe the labor that is done on earth, people getting no sleep day or night— then I saw all that God has done." Ecclesiastes 8:16-17

I admit it. I don't have time to write.

Or have sex with my husband.

Furthermore, I'm sorry if you are taking the time to punch in the blog address instead of making love to your own.

I'm far too busy counting the 14th hour on the clever and oh so hysterical dark comedy set of Bored to Death.

And watching these legends chew the fat.

Dick Cavett, Talia Shire, Ted Danson, and Bebe Neuwirth

Literally.

Catering served ribeye.

I asked them to pass the pepper.

Yes on days like these, I find it difficult to not audibly thank the Lord for my abundant blessings while silently cursing myself for under utilizing them.

But like Rocky, I'm going the 12 rounds.

So cut me Mick!

Blue Blood

"Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face.

Once more Pilate came out and said to the Jews gathered there, “Look, I am bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no basis for a charge against him.” When Jesus came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe, Pilate said to them, “Here is the man!”

As soon as the chief priests and their officials saw him, they shouted, “Crucify! Crucify!”

But Pilate answered, “You take him and crucify him. As for me, I find no basis for a charge against him." John 19:1-6

Amazing love, how can it be?

That you my King would die for me.

Amazing love, I know its true.

And it's my joy to honor You.

All Work And No Pray Makes...

"Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." James 1:4

There is a schmaltzy country song that talks about the new wearing off and the old shining through. It is a gentle reminder to those tapping their feet on the fence to not stray, take for granted, or flee for greener pastures.

I sing this diddy, lying atop a pile of electrical cord rolled up in a dusty corner on The Good Wife's sound stage (my home away from home), quietly of course with the encouragement of the shushing P.A. born in 1990.

The trite tune resounds in my ears as I stand on the mark of a Marlboro Red smoking, Georgia bred spitfire opposite an Emmy winning actress on an award worthy drama as the Director of Photography frames my face in "her" lighting.

Despite the sentimentality of the verse, my satisfaction is far from sufficient.

And I can't ignore that this once shiny apple has lost its sheen. Surely, there's better fruit.

Does this story sound familiar?

ALL IN-Sane

None of us waiting patiently in the bowels of Brooklyn's Metropolitan Avenue knew what the intoxicated man reeking of cabbage and beer kept directing his middle finger towards.

My money was on the delay of the notoriously slow and painful G train, but judging by his two week grizzly growth, keeping a timely appointment didn't seem likely, so I couldn't be sure.

The Slavic mutterings were inaudible between the rank hiccups and shuffling feet, but when he raised his finger and grabbed his crotch, the language was undoubtedly understood.

In true New Yorker fashion, most of the straphangers maintained their stoic faces hoping to seem unfazed by the spectacle bouncing off the tiled wall beside them.

Me? Blatantly amused and appreciative for the commutes comic relief.

As the stubby train gave out its last shrill and stopped.

He gave his final Fuck You...unzipped his pants and pissed on the last car.

Yep, If I were a gambling woman.

Avenue A, 9:31 a.m., April 16

Avenue A, 9:31 a.m., April 16

Oh this is on my reading list...

Promised Prosperity

"For the LORD your God is bringing you into a good land—a land with brooks, streams, and deep springs gushing out into the valleys and hills; a land with wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil and honey; a land where bread will not be scarce and you will lack nothing; a land where the rocks are iron and you can dig copper out of the hills. When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the LORD your God for the good land he has given you." Deuteronomy 8:7-10

His answer to my question: Will I want?

And rebuttal to my girlfriend who pointed out that I am still struggling.

Rocky Trails To Success?

“Human beings, like plants, grow in the soil of acceptance, not in the atmosphere of rejection” John Powell

Thanks to an open minded, information seeking friend, I might have found my Cymbalta without the side effects.

~Psilocybin has a similar chemical structure to serotonin – a hormone involved in regulating mood – and therefore binds to serotonin receptors on nerve cells in the brain. The drug may have therapeutic potential because the serotonin system in nerves is also a target for existing antidepressants. ~ David Pescovitz

I recently recorded my epiphany that it was going to take marijuana and yoga to aid me in living a pain free existence with a duck feather exterior where the simple matters roll of my back and evaporate from the puddle in which they landed.

I could have been mistaken.

Not that I've given it the honest college try but my self confidence and worth are wilting under these studio lights.

It's a simple equation really...

"Here's my product."

"Don't want it."

"Here's my product."

"Don't want it."

"Here's my product."

"Don't want it."

It's only a matter of time until you closely examine the product and ask yourself, just what is wrong with it.

New York has the rain, but until I find the fresh Brahma Bull manure sprouting spores, I will mediate on this wonderful trip...

"For in Christ, the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and I have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over EVERY power and authority." Colossians 2:9-10

And Wear Sunscreen

"What you decide on will be done, and light will shine on your ways." Job 22:28

"When its 100 degrees in New York, it's 72 in Los Angeles. When its 30 degrees in New York, in Los Angeles it's still 72. However, there are 6 million interesting people in New York, and 72 in Los Angeles." ~Neil Simon

I'd say it was a chance meeting. But I don't believe in chance.

Still, after White Collar's writer told me I should throw my proverbial writers cap in the Warner Brothers ring, I've been thinking of roaming again. This time to the city of Angels. And before I become to hard for my own good.

I must be losing my on the verge mind. I thought New York City suited my personality. Now I realize Steinbeck was right, littleness gets swallowed up here, and my neurotic, anxious, impatient, and angry self swells in this city's magnitude.

The vicious grit and tolerated sleaze of my grand town just justifies my tough exterior and clenched shoulders as a rite of passage to being a true New Yorker. Scoff Scoff.

Plus, it's still unkindly cold here. Damp and dark. And something about skirts, sandals, and sunshine has me hearing "Go West" in my balmy, career flourishing daydreams.

I wonder.

Leaving Broadway Stages tonight, I turned up my wool collar and kicked at a tin can in the middle of the industrious and stark streets of Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Another 13 hour day spent on a sound stage. A stiff breeze carried the scent of salty air to my runny nose and wide open Southern California dreams drifted in.

As I made the turn around the last vacant warehouse, a vision came so clear and captivating, it stopped me in my filthy tracks and shone a light on my dark and misty path.

Manhattan's unmatchable skyline shining just like the sun.

Looks like I'm staying. For now.

Would you call constant reconsideration a form of manic behavior?

Last Night...>>

Standing in for this fair skinned, lemon haired beauty is a sheer treat.

And we share the same profile...

Writers...Write. Right?

"' How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.

Henry David Thoreau.

I told a writer the name of my blog. And not just a self professed writer.

But one that matters. A successful 30 something writer of a hit television show, banging out clever scripts from her West Coast office. A writer who flew in to sit on set for line change consulting.

A writer making a living.

I regretted it immediately.

Maybe it's because I'd been standing in for the last 72 hours for an actress mastering her craft and honing her skills.

Standing up in the camera's eyes, so the marks are made and the lighting is just right for another fair skinned blond headed heart whose passion is coming to fruition.

Could be, I opened up my writing for critique because I've been standing on the hard subway platforms to stand on the moving trains, to stand on Grand Central's marble floor while the wasted hiked up their short skirts and took pictures of a grey Ted Danson in strange adoration, while I propped myself up against set dressings wagon.

Or possibly I told her because it is the exact swift kick in the ass I need to knock me into the world I wish to dwell, inside my head and on paper.

“Write while the heat is in you. The writer who postpones the recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a hole with. He cannot inflame the minds of his audience.”

Henry David Thoreau.

I'm sorry I've digressed. I have poured myself into a money making frenzy and mind numbing recovery, such that I've lost my grip on self expression. And the passage of time.

I've been standing up to live in this city, but not sitting down enough to write.

This will change.

The road to success is dotted with many tempting parking places. ~Author Unknown

Feeling like Dorothy running wild through the poppies and suddenly overcome with the desire to sleep the long slumber of the nearly dead.

Ahh but Oz is a few strides away and we sold our cars for pocket change and a chance.

It's called blessed delirium and the man behind the curtain is calling me.

Insert question here___________?

Ehhh

"My days are swifter than a runner; they fly away without a glimpse of joy." Job 9:25

Monday Morning.

I'm mentally paralyzed.

The jackhammer waited to pound the asphalt under my window until daybreak.

For this I was thankful. And the passing rain.

Determined to not see New York living through the eyes of Job...

After my meeting with Screen Actors Guild, I find myself walking over the Williamburg bridge for some greasy pork belly at Fatty Cue in the sunshine.

The spell bounding and surreal view of magnificent New York to my left looks like a giant meticulously painted backdrop propped up against a finally blue sky.

The stark block letters reading SCREW RENT are spray painted black on the concrete tenement to my right.

I transfix my eyes on this cold hard truth instead as the green river rolls below and sigh.

I don't see any bobbing bodies like the recent lucky few on the two hour tour.

The Lovely Lady Liberty peers around the corner.

When you actually take the time to move slowly through the chaos, you find the stoic silence of passersby to be odd and forced.

We're rubbing shoulders and touching thighs half the time but are strangely embarrassed by eye contact or a mere hello.

The day passes rapidly as do they all.

I remind myself that a day off is not carte blanche to neurotically sweat and panic in a mad hustle to make sure I don't have two in a row and deliberately don't skip steps on the way to A Train Uptown.

Madison Square Garden is amok with bodies and flurrying with scalpers. I tell three rather assertive hustlers, no to their low offers, before settling on a fair price with the Rangers fan who is screaming at the jerk in handcuffs for selling him fake tickets. He buys me a beer inside.

Eat my dinner at midnight and set my alarm for four hours later...Joyfully.

Do you log the days of your life in a win/lose column?

"Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:12

My fail proof strategy for staying on the battlefield.

Could have saved the print 1...>>

Could have saved the print 2...>>

At least someone is composing as I wait for my writers block to move.

Are you still reading?

Gimme Gimme

"You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere humans? 1 Corinthians 3:3

I know my Citizenship is in Heaven.

But I'm currently residing in Manhattan.

And I'm jealous.

I want.

Tears streamed down my hot cheeks last night in church as Pastor Bojan prayed for the one woman who was feeling immense lack in her life.

I heard....

" Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart."

But this afternoon walking amongst the extravagant Lower East Side shoppers...

I forgot.

And pined...

For silk fabric.