Thursday, July 28, 2005
I was parking my car on Dartmouth Street around 11am when I was approached by a strange man who knocked on my window. I rolled the window down a crack and he said through a thick accent that he was looking for "someplace with food, to get some drinks." I thought it strange that he wanted drinks at that time of the morning, but I directed him to Tremont Street about a block away and told him there were lots of cafes and restaurants there.
He didn't seem satisfied by that answer and said, "Well you know, I just want to have some fun."
"Okay. That's probably your best bet. There are a ton of places over there."
But again, I could see he wanted to say more. Finally I watched him screw up his courage and say, "Well, I am only in town for today... And I would like some female companionship."
Completely creeped out at this point, I told him he should get the hell away from my car. He retreated quickly to my great relief.
Maybe he was asking me out on a date, or maybe he thought I was a prostitute. I don't know. It just seems to me that approaching a woman as she parks her car isn't the most efficient way to get yourself some "female companionship."
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
It was a great day, and if I could figure out how to download pictures from my camera I could show you what three of my castmates look like doing "the Dolphin" in unison (we were all a bit punchy by the end...).
I'm excited to be moving into the next phase of this production--and performances are only two days away. But the closer we get to opening, the more I feel anxiety that the end is drawing near. I'm going to be very sad to say goodbye to this cast and this play. It's been such a fulfilling process and I'm definitely not ready to let it go.
Of course, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. I think I'm just going to try to be present in every moment we have together--on stage and off--from here on out.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
This was my dilemma today as I was hanging posters for Hal around Kendall Square. It seems there is not a light pole to be found in that neighborhood that does not concern itself with the distressing malady of IBS.
I don't want people to see a Hal poster and think "poop." That's not cool.
The answer? I'm not sure... but I moved on to Central Square to find some poop-free spaces to advertise the show.
This blog entry has been sponsored by the Bureau Of Waste Enthusiasm and Liberation, or B.O.W.E.L. If you would like more information, please call your local plumber or visit this site.
Actually, it was a pretty terrifying encounter. I was driving along the highway when I glanced at my rearview mirror and noticed a spider dangling from the ceiling. I was understandably startled and did a little freak out--swerving uncomfortably close to the guard rail.
My panic increased when it started to slink down on a web towards me.
I tried to focus on both the road and the bug, which is just about impossible, but I managed to swat it away with my hand before my entire body froze up with fear.
Unfortunately, seeing a spider dangling from the roof of my car was only slightly less terrifying than being aware that there was a spider in an unknown location in my car. My mind raced. I tried to focus on the road and simultaneously scan the interior, but my grip was too tight on the wheel and my car jerked slightly side to side. I was suddenly aware of a thousand hiding spaces in my car, including my own arms and hair. My breath hitched as I realized I might have to ride the full 15 minutes to my destination with the unwanted passenger lurking somewhere unseen.
Just when I thought mental collapse imminent, I spotted the intruder on the seat next to me. Knowing where it was helped me gain some control, but what to do next? Let it sit there? Hope it doesn't move?
I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate fully on the road until the little bugger was gone, so I decided to take action. Off came my flip flop, and with a single blow the menace was dead.
I tossed the offending shoe away (I admit, I wasn't thinking clearly), and had to finish the drive with one bare foot. A small price to pay, I think, for my renewed emotional stability.
I don't like killing bugs, and when I look back on it rationally I feel pretty guilty about the tragic end of that spider.
But in the moment, with adrenaline pumping and a paralyzing fear echoing in my brain, all I could think was it's him or me, and the little fucker is going down.
Monday, July 18, 2005
No, my mom is not pregnant.
The new addition comes from the impending nuptials of my husband's brother, who is a good friend of mine and was part of my life even before Thom. This would be a great event, a happy event, even a noteworthy event on its own. But there is great cause for celebration as the woman he is marrying has been a close friend of mine since we were 10 years old!
Our adolescent musings, "We should marry brothers someday so we can be sisters," have actually come true. How does this happen? In what universe do you get to fulfill childhood dreams like this?
Needless, to say I am beyond happy that they have found each other, and that all of us will be forever linked together.
For all my scrutiny about the universe's workings, I think I've been cast a pretty nice lot.
If you'd like to check out the cute couple themselves, you can visit their website.
I've been thinking about friendship a lot lately--how I'd like to have more close friends who live in my city. Adulthood hasn't been great for my social life. I've been unbelievably lucky to find Thom, but I think the karmic price for having such a perfect mate is social solitude in other respects.
My best friends at the moment live in California, Indiana, Georgia, NYC, and Germany. I can't exactly catch a movie or go shopping with them. For the most part they don't know my day-to-day gossip, and I sometimes forget vital details about their life, like who they're dating or where they're working.
These are people I've known and loved for years, and some of them, I'm certain, will always be in my life.
But it makes me wonder if I will ever forge lasting bonds with people I can actually see for more than a few days a year. Why is it so difficult to find new friends as an adult? Maybe it's because I don't have a day job or I'm introverted or I'm married. Maybe it's because I move so often.
Or maybe I'm just not that cool.
Increasingly, it feels like the search for new relationships is not only appealing but vital to my survival. So I go out with a cast mate for a late meal in the hopes that something will click, that a new bond will be formed. And I spill my guts into this stupid computer. And not a lot changes.
I'm lucky to have California & Indiana & Georgia & NYC & Germany. I just sometimes wished I had Boston too.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Sunday, July 10, 2005
I don't consider myself a True Believer regarding any issue, and will even go so far as to say that most of the evils in this world are committed by fundamentalists (on any side).
However, there is one issue to which I am firmly wedded--one cause that will make me stop and listen, when otherwise I might find myself too "busy" to talk to the people with the clipboards--and that is animal rights.
I've been a vegetarian for eight years now. I'm not a card-carrying member of any group, but in my own way I effect the lives of our furry friends on a daily basis.
So, yesterday, when I see a woman at a table with a "SUPPORT ANIMAL RIGHTS" sign on Boylston Street, I go to talk to her.
"What's this about?" I ask in a curiously friendly tone.
"Well, we're lobbying--you do know what that means, right?" Hmm, I think, she seems awfully snippy for someone asking for help.
"It means to create laws," she finishes. I let it pass that unless she's a politician of some sort, she's not going to be creating any laws.
"We're asking for your help to support animal rights. What I need from you today is a ten dollar donation. Can you agree to that right now?"
Okay, that's a bit aggressive.
"Well, what exactly are you trying to do?"
And with a look that says she feels sorry for my unborn children she says, "We're creating laws to protect animals."
"I know that," I say, looking more closely at the table she's working from, "but can you tell me what laws you're trying to create to protect animals?" I notice a vaguely official-looking paper on a clipboard with no signatures and an article with a picture of a sad-eyed puppy and a large sign that says "SAVE HOMELESS KITTENS" flanking the front of the table.
"Look--" An uncomfortable expression comes over her face and she picks up her sign again. "I'm very busy here. Do you have the ten dollars or not?"
I look around to make certain that indeed, we are alone, and still my naive need to give the benefit of the doubt kicks in. "Well, if you want my ten dollars, you're going to have to tell me where it's going."
"I don't have time for this," she hisses and has already turned away from me. "SUPPORT ANIMAL RIGHTS!" I hear as I walk away, and only then do I realize it was all a scam.
I really hope that no other animal-loving do-gooder fell for her crap. I'd hate to think of that money going to pay for her next BigMac.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Besides having some vividly weird dreams (watching myself animated in clay on some celebreality show...), the past few days have been awesome. Actually, the dreams have been useful in working through a few psychological quandaries. You might not think the presence of muppets in a dream could signify anything but having eaten a strange late-night snack, but believe me, my friend, there is a message to be had if you examine the felt and wobbly eyes closely enough.
I won't go into all the intricate, winding, wierd details of my dreams, but just know that they have helped me understand some of what has been making me feel blue lately. In the interest of my psychological health, here are my (re)discoveries:
- I want to be famous.
- I want to do meaningful, important work...that gets me noticed.
- I want to work in a supportive, collaborative environment.
No artist wants to admit that fame is part of their goals, so I'm just going to put it out there. It's not the only thing I want (I wouldn't, for example, want fame if it meant being Anna Nicole or Paris Hilton), but it is part of my reason for being an actor.
I'm in this wonderful, challenging play doing meaningful, important work, but I'm in a role that is the definition of "ensemble member." And while there is no doubt I'm in a supportive, collaborative environment the horrible little monster of my ego is feeling a little starved at the moment.
I don't know if I feel worse because I'm not getting the attention I want or the fact that I want it in the first place. It needs to be okay to want fame, to want to be noticed. And it needs to be okay to not get what I want right now. But when I deny myself the wanting I just turn myself in circles and make myself sick.
I'm feeling better having realized all this, so thank you hungry dolphin and muppets and little claymation Summer: job well done.
Monday, July 04, 2005
--Thom waking me up with breakfast in bed
--Sunroof on the Mini
--Melted cheese and tomato sandwich
--War of the Worlds kicking total ass
--Margaritas on the deck
--Invitation to a callback for Arcadia
(If today could involve more cheese and sun I will be happy.)