Psst, Do You Want to Know A Secret?

"Save us, O LORD our God, and gather us from the nations, that we may give thanks to your holy name and glory in your praise." Psalm 106:47

The Asian women carrying the recycling at the end's of wood poles draped over their arthritic necks are battling in an outright slap fest below and NYPD has shown up to tell them to cease breaking bottles and share the aluminum wealth....

Woe is me and my path of ridiculous resistance. I've been at this bizarre extras underworld now for eleven months... Now in the grand scheme of God's plan this is not a long time, but I wasn't born for background so I wonder just how much longer I can dwell here in the semi-darkness with all the other competitive camera time feeders.

Today, featured on a I don't know how, but oh so popular show called Gossip Girl where I greet Serena at an outlandishly exuberant fundraising event where we know each other from Romper Room, I have back to back hiccup epiphany's.

For starters: Have you ever wondered how many self professed Christian actors are working in the business? The operative word being working.
The answer is very little and not one of them enjoys their pick of the script litters. Sure, Kirk Cameron had his glowing days in Growing Pains, and Stephen Baldwin sings God's praises, but his brother is the scene stealer, Gary Busey loves Jesus and the sauce and appears more in mug shots these days then motion pictures.
My point? What if young and fortunate Leighton Meester and Blake Lively gave their testimony of faith to these screaming crying obsessive girls loitering at the corner on a freezing cold December day to catch a glimpse of their adored divas because they too think threesomes are cool?
Would they still have their fame? I know the answer. Do you?


Two: Working these shows is severely muddling up my focus in chasing my already elusive dream. Pantomiming clever creativity can only reach so far.
I must say no to resembling acting and passing through senseless dialogue and encourage my true aspirations.
Primarily, bringing the witty and wise wordsmith writers back!!!!


When did we quit giving a shit about the English language?


**We shot outside the Dakota Building on the anniversary. The crowds gathered in Strawberry Fields.

Smile, Smile Smile

"But may the righteous be glad and rejoice before God; may they be happy and joyful." Psalm 68:3

I knew New York City had some hippie in it... The next few shows coming to town are Gov't Mule, Franti and Spearhead, Bob Wier and Phil Lesh. I'm a happy camper....

Some days walking through this city could be likened to walking through a music box. And one of these days I will stop and listen to everyone of the spinning talented lyricists I come by....(that slowing down thing is coming, I just know it.)

Somehow, someway, a self help audio track entitled "Vibrations-How to be Happy" made its appearance on my second hand IPOD today. In a trance, I listened to the first few opening words of the obviously drugged and methodically strange voice ....."Envision physically cutting all complaining out of your life...and picture your world where there are no impediments entering in which you could possibly complain about...Now breathe it in."

I close my eyes and envision a Rum Painkiller in hand, Cuba sprawled out in front of a bare bikini clad me, an infectious Jam Band playing loudly, and the oh so very legal marijuana cigarettes being passed like flower petals at a wedding.

Oh wait, that WAS my reality last January....

Today scarfed, hatted, gloved, and buttoned up tightly, I look down at my latest edition of New York Magazine and their consistent pessimistic view of the last ten years... "THE OO's....The world didn't end, but everything else did." And the positivity juice temporarily halts its flow...what is wrong with us?

Emotions are contagious. And I aim to spread a little more sunshine than spite....(this includes sidewalk rage.) And we'll see if generation iconoclast follows suit.

Is optimism uncomfortably unfamiliar?

Dragging Ragged

"In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength." Isaiah 30:15

I got nothing. My chilled the bone body needs a three day break.

Monday already?

Unsolicited

"All men will hate you because of me." Luke 21:17

Slow down. You're moving too fast. You gotta make these moment's last. Just keep your keys and phone in tow, looking for fun and feeling groovy.( S & G adapted)

I don't mind confrontation. I don't understand it. But I don't mind it.

And I will engage EVERY time I'm prompted.

Now, I don't tell a gay man I think he's a slut for his promiscuous and continuous conquest surveying.

I don't tell a skinhead Iverson idolizing tough guy, I believe his anger is an outward sign of weakness.

And far be it from me to mention to the intellectual liberal who only gets his second hand news from NPR, he is also receiving biased information.

But for some reason, every single person wants to tell me how crazy, misinformed, and closed off and unintelligent I am for believing in God.

It is my personal belief they attack my strongholds because they have none and are swayed by the judgmental and like minded company they keep.

They call the Christians intolerant when really they are the all encompassing epitome.

Great, don't eat Chick-fil-A because you are appalled Truett Cathy supports Focus on the Family, but don't judge me as I am devouring my greasy chicken biscuit with a smile.

I am so deeply rooted in my belief in Jesus Christ that I'm able to withstand the furious wind, pelting rain, and hateful persecution you send my way.

Yes, I will keep growing towards the sunlight and with an open mind.

Do you really think rejecting God makes you more evolved?

"Tonight's Gonna Be A Good, Good Night.."

“Therefore Jesus said again, "I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. He will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” John 10:7, 9-10

"Be mindful, even if your mind is full" De La Vega

And stretch it.

Beautiful Progressive drinkfest through East Village....

Baptist Covered Dish Dinner with bourbon on our breath.

The faithless throwing thoughtless hate...

Lil John on the dance floor.

I dance circles around their criticisms.

I'm so glad I know who I am and where I stand.

And don't think a hot body can be wasted on a bad song, if the shaking is good.

Don't you get tired from holding up the facade?

New York Minute

"I know, my God, that you test the heart and are pleased with integrity. All these things have I given willingly and with honest intent. And now I have seen with joy how willingly your people who are here have given to you." 1 Chronicles 29:17

What a fucking day.

I owe it to someones good heart and my delicious not your daddy's Manhattan to bring this blog some positivity.

I should be more shocked. But today is the second time a perfect stranger has gone out of their way to return my cell phone in the city that never sleeps.

The first time after being kicked out of three cabs and eventually persuading a driver to take me to Brooklyn at 4 in the morning, having no concept on how to get off the island called Manhattan. After searching a map with a magnifier for a little unknown Ave called Meserole, he drops me at my destination unscathed and rather un-sober. But not before hearing my testimony.

The next morning, my host gets a phone call from the cabbie, he has my phone. I tell him, he makes me want to read the Koran.

Today, I mistakenly drop my cell in the streets somewhere between Broadway and Bleeker at the end of a four corners of Manhattan mule race of a day. I retrace my steps in the dark. In my knee high stilettos. Venture into countless storefronts with a look of hopeful desperation. Finally I painfully walk to my husband's work with tears in my eyes....Defeated, I call my number.

My dear friend's voice answers, "It's me."

Do What?

Apparently she had returned my call and the angel in disguise that discovered my little piece of can't live without, hand delivered it to my girlfriend's apartment.

What a city!! And a running start towards peace on Earth and good will to man.

How's that for a miracle?

Daily Dose

"On hearing this, Jesus said to them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." Mark 2:17

Get thee to a sanitarium.

The New York City Subway system has 468 stations, this being the largest public transit system in the world. According to the MTA ridership facts, the New York City subway hosts approximately 5,225,675 commuters on an average weekday. During cold and flu season that means a whole lotta nasty petri dishes called people, full of germs.

The Experts are saying just the mere sight of flu symptoms heightens our anxiety and changes our social behavior...and now the proof.

At the beginning of November, two women made headlines by partaking in a hygienically filthy fight on the subway. Spawned by fear of the Swine Flu a woman told another to cover her mouth, with that the "under the weather" gal spat in the concerned face, in which the offended now covered in infectious snot decked the cougher in her runny nose and both had to be physically separated at the next stop.

In the last week, I too have witnessed outward cat fights erupt over a sneeze into a shoulder and a side cough to the persons right side while the other packed in tightly sardines hold their breath and try to turn away from the ill-will.

Today, with fists clenched and a rather fragile immune system (maybe standing in a freezing cold warehouse breathing Denis Leary's cigarette smoke for nine hours played a part) I rode the 2 Express.

Now picture this, a man gets on, hovers over me, expels loudly into his right hand and then reaches for the bar directly above my head with the same hand. I grimace.

While holding the often fondled pole, he sneezes mostly into his left hand, the rest goes into my lap. He then takes that wet hand and grabs for support, his contaminated and now infectious right hand goes into his pocket. I look up. He snorts loudly and then smiles a flirtatious smile.

Without saying a word or throwing an elbow, I raise my glasses and give him what Motley Crue would call, a look that kills.

He takes his H1N1 hands, stuffs them into his pockets, walks away to suffer silently in the corner.

I breathe easier.

Only the strong survive right?