Tag Archives: Uncategorized

2.20.02 – it’s just TWO much fun

i woke up this morning with the overwhelming desire to stay put in buffalo, despite the fact that i’d been looking forward to working in new york all winter. “buffalo is easy,” i thought to myself. “i know where the grocery store is, how to get laundry done, which bars to avoid on thursday nights, how to park downtown without paying, and where to get good french toast at 4 in the morning.” the thought of having to learn all of that in another new town really wasn’t as appealing as staying in bed with zeke was. i don’t know why, but i arrived today feeling thoroughly intimidated by new york. there’s no reason for that, given that i’ve successfully and fearlessly navigated a dozen other large cities, in many of which i didn’t speak the language. but somehow new york intimidated me in a way that [san francisco, los angeles, boston, washington D.C., toronto, amsterdam, vienna, london, paris, rome, berlin, prague, tokyo or seoul] never did. okay, i take that back, i was scared shitless the first time that i went to paris. but i was only seventeen then and it was my first trip abroad. i suppose i just have more preconceptions about new york built up in my head than i did about other cities. all that stuff about how tough a place it is. or maybe there was just too much build up, because i’ve been lucky enough to travel quite a bit, and somehow never landed in new york before now. maybe i was intimadated because this place is the mecca of the american theatre community. at any rate, i was somehow completely paranoid that i would stick out like a sore thumb on the street, and that everthing about me would somehow say “country-bumpkin!!” and then people would want to pick my pockets or just generally make fun of me in a junior-high-school-gym-class sort of way.

we arrived at la guardia this morning, and found the house in queens without incident. the house is lovely and in a fairly quiet neighborhood. although i am sharing the place with my stage manager, i have my own bedroom and bath, complete with a tv and lots of shakespeare videos (we’re subletting an actor’s house) and a smooshy bed to sleep on. N had to go to meet with the show’s producer today, so i accompanied her as far as times square. once i’d successfully explored the subway system and spent a few hours wandering around midtown soaking up the city’s vibe i felt a little less lost. i have no words to accurately describe the blinking-flashing-huge-advertizements-everywhere-you-look sensory overload that is times square. once i got over my initial confusion that times square isn’t actually a square (ie, a city block that doesn’t have any cars or buildings, and maybe has a fountain or statue or something that people congregate around) at all, i was simply overwhelmed by the sheer volume of STUFF going on there. it’s a total sensory overload. it felt like something out of the movie brazil. our rehearsal studio is on 42nd street, one block off broadway, right in the center of everything. back in queens N and i located the essentials: groceries, laundry, japanese, chinese, mexican and indian takeout menus. it took both of our giant brains plus an act of god to figure out how to make the tv-vcr-dvd-stereo system in my bedroom work, but once we did, we ate sushi, drank corona, and watched the powerpuff girls.

now that i’m back in a big city, you can look forward to the return of my Freak of the Week feature. this week’s freak would have to be the naked cowboy. this super-buff guy with a tan and long blond hair was standing in the center of times square, playing his guitar and singing with gusto. he was wearing only cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, and a pair of tightie-whities that said “naked cowboys” on the butt. his boots had TIPS scrawled down each side, and he was inviting passersby to place money inside his boots. it was kind of a cold day to be playing guitar in nothing but your undies. let’s hope he earned enough tips to buy some jeans for tomorrow.

2.19.02 – things that go ‘squish’ in the night

the buffalo science museum has an exhibit called “Grossology: blood, boogers and things that live in our bodies.” apparently it’s wildly popular with the under-12 crowd. you get to walk through a giant nose and get covered in boogers. sort of like super sloppy double dare, only more educational.

i am now the proud owner of a Jewish Community Center of Greater Buffalo t-shirt, which i earned by going to the gym 30 times in the past 90 days. whoo hoo! the shirt’s about as ugly as i had expected, but at least i have new and improved biceps to wear with it. maybe i’ll cut the arms off and make it into a muscle shirt.

gotta go pack, as i am leaving for new york in the morning. assuming that all goes as planned, i’ll be able to post while i’m in new york. otherwise, i’ll be back in mid-march.

2.18.02 – thomas jefferson makes me queasy

my trip to washington was good, food poisoning not withstanding. Good Pants were sought, found, purchased and later returned in favor of a Good Haircut with Coco. we wandered around georgetown and looked at all the beautiful people walking their beautiful dogs and their beautiful houses, explored a happy independent bookstore where i was torn between buying the sequel to bridget jone’s diary and anna karenina, and ate ice cream on a regular basis. sunday mari and i made an omelet out of questionable turkey, and three hours later we were at the Jefferson Memorial, trying not to barf on Thomas J’s feet. they always say that men turn into such babies when they get sick; the same goes for me. nothing takes 20 years off my age faster than getting the stomach flu. mari’s sister-in-law made us seltzer water with lemon, and we laid around clutching our stomachs until i had to leave for the airport. as we left for the airport she handed us ginger ales. right after i opened mine i remembered that i’d given up soda for lent. “lent? since when do you celebrate lent?” asked mari. “i’m a lapsed catholic,” i told her. “the only things we celebrate are christmas, lent, and guilt.” i figured since i was feeling guilty about wasting the soda, or else would feel guilty about drinking it, that guilt would have to take the place of my lenten vows for the day. fortunately i had decided on anna karenina at the bookstore, since i had hours to kill at the airport and the usual airport trick of searching out the requisite cinnabon shop and eating a huge gooey cinnamon roll in order to past the time wasn’t going to work.

my stage manager made me sharpen 48 pencils by hand today, because the back of the box said “for best results use a hand-crank sharpener.” this is what she thinks an assistant is for. i really don’t mind sharpening pencils, but for god sake, electric pencil sharpeners were invented for a reason! besides, these are the pencils that we never use, we just give them out to the actors who forget to bring their own pencils. what do they care whether we sharpened them with a hand-crank sharpener? at this point, she doesn’t really make me upset any more; my relationship with her is so absurd some days that i just have to laugh at it. mind you, i might not be laughing by this time next week, since i’ll be sharing an apartment with her in NYC for the next month or so.

2.15.02 – weekend escapades

mari writes:

>i’m confronted with my total lack

> of good pants.

clearly, the only thing to do was reserve a plane ticket and head to DC for the weekend to help remedy the situation. posts will resume on monday.

2.14.02 (later)

valentine’s day, 2002: opening night of sleuth. i wore fishnet stockings, a velvet fringed scarf and chopsticks in my almost-long-enough-for-an-up-do hair. i’m not working backstage for this one, so i had two tickets for the show, but no date. sat alone near the back and shot daggers at all the women dressed in bright red. after the show randy put a glass of red wine in my hand and then saw to it that it never got below half full. figured i wasn’t drinking much because it was a skinny champagne glass, forgetting that what it lacks in width, it makes up for in height. moved to the party downstairs where i talked stanford drama talk with one of the actors, who graduated from stanford about 10 years before i did, all the while holding up the bar and feeling paranoid about whether i was talking too loud. made the situation worse by moving on to the next bar with the gang and letting hannah put a white russian into my hand. pretty soon all i wanted was to get out of the bar NOW. made hannah drive me home on her way to meet everyone at the Towne, where i watched one of the two dvds that i own and tried to keep my head upright. i haven’t had this too-much to drink since that time and lauren and paul and i drank gin and orange juice concentrate outside of terra, and then we tried to go to bed but we were too drunk, so we spent half the night sitting up – paul crying for humanity and me just trying not to barf.

2.14.02 – be mine, valentine

Wop-a-din-din

She’s got big green eyes

And a long Egyptian face

She moves across the floor

At her own pace

When I’m here in bed

She’ll jump up on my chest

And when we lock eyes there’s so much love

I wanna cry

She comes in near

When I scratch under her ear

And she lifts her head

When I kiss around her neck

Won’t go to sleep

When she falls along my side

And two green eyes fade

To a porcelain marble white

And somehow when I sleep

She’ll end up at my feet

And if I roll and kick her out

I might knock her to the ground

But she’ll come back anyhow

Ella es muy vital

más triste que salir el sol

pura como el agua

The morning comes

She squints up to shield out the sun

And she’ll go and lay

In the warmest dusty rays

And I hold her face

She lays perfectly in place

And she’ll yawn and stretch

And stare me down expressionless

And lay back down into her nest

And if someone calls

She’ll race me out the hall

When she hears the phone

Then she knows I’m leaving home

She don’t wanna be alone

And I know it’s wrong

That I’m going away so long

And for her it’s rough

I can’t be with her enough

But I’ll never give her enough

Ella es muy vital

más triste que salir el sol

pura como el agua

And somehow when I sleep

She’ll end up at my feet

And if I roll and kick her out

I might knock her to the ground

But she’ll come back anyhow

– the red house painters

2.12.02 – toosday, whoosday

from A.A. Milne’s Winne-the-Pooh:

“…you can’t help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn’t spell it right; but spelling isn’t everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn’t count.”

2.13.02 – through the looking-glass

went on a tour of the Summer Street Cat Clinic’s boarding facilities, as i have to find someone to take care of zeke when i go out of town for a week later this spring. the place was small, but very clean, and the women who worked there obviously took good, loving care of the cats. i took one look at the shiny steel cages, however, and had to flee. back home, i apologized to zeke for even thinking about putting him into a cage. when i adopted him from the animal shelter, he had been living in a tiny cage for so long that he was afraid of open spaces. i brought him home and he spent the first couple of days slinking along the walls and trying to stay in corners and under furniture. now he is a wild beast who prowls the house in search of mice, taunts my parents’ big dog, and climbs into my lap to purr whenever he feels like it. his new favorite trick is to place a mouse on the floor right in front of the mirror, and then reach around behind the mirror and try to capture the mirror mouse. all he’s succeeded in doing so far is bringing the mirror crashing down a couple of times.

2.11.02 – open season on silly putty

spent my day off working with the local stage hands’ union on the load-out of the auto show. the ford rep i worked for today was pretty cool; after momentarily flinching when he saw that his team of three burly, scruffy men had been augmented by a young woman, he got over it and even gave the obligatory girl-job (scratching 2001 decals off and replacing them with 2002 decals) to one of the guys and had me work on loading out the heavy stuff. last week during the load-in i worked for buick and the rep was pissed that he had two women assigned to his team and assumed (loudly) that us “gals” were the reason that our team couldn’t lift a 48718842-pound stage out of the shipping crate without the assistance of a fork-lift. a lot of the guys i work with are pretty cool, but some of the crusty old timers can be kinda sexist. working these union gigs causes me to become more butch the instant i walk in the door.

one of the displays we were taking down today was a turntable about 20′ in diameter, made of steel and iron and wood. we had about half of the platform pieces unloaded when i started to rotate the turntable and accidentally grabbed the iron rim from the underside. it turned faster than i’d expected and before i could move my right hand it ran right over one of the wheels that the turntable was resting on. it was out the other side before i even had time to yelp. it hurt, but not as much as i expected it to (always a bad sign) and for a minute or two i was afraid to take off my glove and inspect the damage. when i got brave and pulled the glove off, my fingers were red and throbbing but not crushed flat like i’d imagined. this turntable weighed thousands of pounds, even with half the platforms taken off. it was the equivalent of having my fingers run over by a volkswagon bug. tonight my fingers feel a little bruised but are otherwise fine and i’m feeling more than a little lucky to be typing. it’s amazing how resilient the body can be sometimes.

later, hannah & i went to the mall to buy silly putty. the guy at KBToys told us that he didn’t have it because it’s a seasonal item. when exactly is silly putty season, anyway?

2.10.02 – on the nightstand

geeks: how two lost boys rode the internet out of idaho, by jon katz

the tao of pooh, by benjamin hoff

hands of light, by barbara ann brennan

the shipping news, by annie proulx