ann carr is living her life

Goop You Gwyneth

2010-11-12T22:55:00.001-05:00

Is it okay to hate on Gwyneth Paltrow just a little bit? That whole time she's de-boning organic chicken, and sucking up to Mark Bittman, and telling you where to go eat and shop with all your kajillions when you're in PARIS, and lecturing you on the importance of Vitamin D, and being a fabulous movie star (but not so fabulous she pretends she's not human...HAH!) she's secretly a country music star. I mean COME ON.

Lucky Penny

2010-10-29T11:59:00.003-04:00

It recently occurred to me that the term 'find a penny pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck' is really just a catchy rhyme. My mom still picks them up. And I collect them from time to time. But not when they're someplace inconvenient like on the floor of a Starbucks restroom or wedged between the sidewalk and a sewer grate. And that brings me round to that tricky idea of luck in my life. Tricky, tricky, tricky.

I like the phrase 'luck is when preparation meets opportunity'. Yeah, but it's also other stuff. Like the people you know, or the way you look, or if your parents can afford to buy you a Spree moped in seafoam green, or a million other things.

I just went on an audition this morning where I had a strange balance of caring and not caring. It sounds weird, but I'm actually proud that I've gotten to a place where I kind of don't give a shit. I know now that - 'yes it would be so great to book this commercial because I won't have to worry as much about money.' But I also know that it's a COMMERCIAL not a work of staggering genius. And these people auditioning me don't have power over what I know about myself - that I'm a kick-ass actress. Definitely helps when they're talking through your call-back. Cornflakes. Whatever. There's always a penny waiting around the corner. Or lying next to a discarded Russell Athletic sweatshirt, on the side of the road, encrusted with scum, swarming with maggots.

Double Rainbow All the Way

2010-10-05T00:00:00.001-04:00

I have to make a confession -- I CANNOT stop listening to the 'Double Rainbow' song. It's sort of become a theme song of mine the past few days. I was in a bit of a funk, feeling sorry for myself and then I discovered double rainbow guy. I'd heard the song before, but I didn't know the context. Double rainbow guy struck me as hilarious, but he also really got to my heart. I related to the sentiment that if you appreciate the joy and the good stuff and really honor that - life can actually be double rainbow all the way. Which is awesome. And true. But I struggle with this little monster named fear sometimes. Particularly lately. Fear is not a good friend you guys, and she's really been bugging me lately. Things in my life have shifted - in a great way - but things are changing. And whether good or bad, I guess that change is scary (duh). The thing is, I don't really ever remember this golden nugget of live-and-learn wisdom until it slaps me in the face. Usually quite rudely.

Lately I've had the good fortune of having freedom, but with freedom comes the responsibility of using it wisely. Like - if you have the freedom of time, say - you should make the most of it and probably not watch The View, Hoda & Kathy Lee AND Oprah in the course of one day. You should choose one (Opes, obvies) and then go about the business of creating a life for yourself doing what you love to do so that you will never be beholden again to an over-privileged little twenty-three year old prick who wears his newly minted MBA along with a shit eating grin and a monkey suit and says to you:

'Hey! What's up?! So, there's no toner in the printer.'
Me: Oh.
23 y/o Prick: 'Yeah. You might want to do something about that 'cause people might get upset. And stuff'.
Me: DEATH STARE

'Why would anyone ever want to subject herself to that? Ever?' You might ask. Um... fear? Um... not wanting to freak your mom out, so instead of taking risks and living creatively and fully, you try to straddle the middle ground by not taking a full-time job, but temping so much that you don't have time to create so you might as well have taken a full-time job? Um... masochism?

I've been feeling guilty about my freedom instead of embracing it fully and giving myself the space and creative joy that I deserve. I've been productive, but at the same time judgey about it and so, so, scared. And then I got a wake up call today. Today the universe, or God, or Charlotte, or whoever - gave me a little tap on the shoulder and said - 'So you're not sure you're comfortable with this freedom? You feel guilty about your happiness? (btw - that's f*cked up). You're not sure you want these opportunities? Okay - here's the path that lead nowhere. Here's the path that tore you up and nearly crushed your spirit. It's still here for you and you can walk down it anytime.

And I said. Umm... let me think about it.

And I really did.

And I said no.

I'm proud that I said no. But it bothers me that I had to think about it. Of course, I should concentrate on the no part. RIGHT. Because I'm pretty sure - no I KNOW that there are no double rainbows on that path.

Know Your Worth

2010-09-17T17:14:00.004-04:00

Maybe it has something to do with being brought up in the midwest (to a southern mother no-less), but it's always been tough for me to say no when people ask something of me. I just had a friend contact me to do a job. And since a lot of good stuff has been flowing into my life and opportunity has been blossoming (paid opportunity! that's important to mention :)), I naturally assumed that this job would fall into line with the rest, and pay me handsomely, if not moderately. I wrote back and asked how much the job paid. The job paid nothing.

You might imagine that I was a little insulted at this assumption that I would work for free. And I was. But then I thought about it and remembered all those times in the past when I didn't know my worth, because someone hadn't yet put a dollar sign on it (!). And I realized that this is the person my friend knew. Even though I've changed, and continue to change, this is the person he remembers. And this is the person I'm trying to leave behind (p.s. - it's not easy!).

I think that if my friend had asked that person to do the job for free, she might have said yes because she didn't know that her time and energy and TALENT were worth more than nothing. I wish I could go back and say to her - 'Hey, just because you're not getting paid to do this yet, doesn't mean you have to take every unpaid shit job that comes your way because you need 'experience''. It's so much easier to say 'Uh... NO' - now that I'm getting paid to do GREAT jobs (also, I know that I've paid my dues, and then some, and the shit jobs need to be taken by someone else who is coming into her/his own and needs to go down that path for their own reasons). I've always had to struggle with my self-confidence, my sense of worth. I've always had a negative voice inside of me on repeat telling me that life isn't some beautiful fantasy land where all my dreams get to come true and that i'm probably just going to keep repeating the same mistakes. And if I'm honest - and I am! - that tape has said this and SO much worse. And I have a hunch i'm not alone.

The thing that is different now, is that I'm actually starting to listen to the tape and say: 'Excuse me but could you please back-it-the-fu*ck-up?! Wait a second! Why CAN'T my life be some "beautiful fantasy"?? WHY NOT??? Okay - I know every day can't be chocolate and rainbows, but things CAN be pretty damn good.' And honestly they have been. Because I've been working hard on figuring out the crux of those voices and putting them to rest (and doing a ridiculous amount of positive affirmations. YES I HAVE vision board). I'm getting there but I still stumble. For example: even though things are so GREAT right now and opportunity and all these awesome things are happening, I'm really struggling with trusting it and not coming from a place of fear.

I believe that the path I've chosen, (though it's been heart-breaking at times and I'm still frequently filled with uncertainty and I'm sure I will be tested again and again) is the best path for me. Even saying that is hard because I'm doubting myself right now: 'Really Ann?? - You think this is the best path? You might never be able to afford to have a child because of this path and I know you're going to regret that'. And the truth is, I would. I really would. But you know what I would regret more? Leaving behind my heart and my creative identity and never knowing what would have happened if I'd just ridden the wave, that scary, scary wave, and seen where I could go with it. Because I have a hunch, especially lately :) that it's someplace really good. And it might even look a little bit like a beautiful fantasy sometimes.

THE ACTRESS: Episode 3 - The Day Job

2010-06-05T14:47:00.004-04:00

Here's the episode I was so excited about sharing back in March. I launched it in May but I've been busy (more on the reason why later - squeee!!!) and haven't been up to date with my posts here. I am REALLY proud of this episode featuring the amazing Christina Gausas and Tom Shillue. They make me look good and they make the episode LOOK GREAT as far as I'm concerned. And I am :)

THE ACTRESS: Episode 2 - Sisters

2010-03-18T12:13:00.003-04:00

Here's the latest episode from my web series, writing, acting and stretching myself project - THE ACTRESS. This episode features the wonderful Margot Leitman as my over-arching, passive-(extremely)agressive sister, Claire. We shoot Episode 3 this weekend and i CANNOT CONTAIN MYSELF because I'm shooting with two of my comedy crushes: the AMAZING Christina Gausas and the WONDERFILLED Tom Shillue. I hope you enjoy this second episode of, THE ACTRESS.

Everything is Material

2010-02-08T16:57:00.005-05:00

i'm back at the office this week and i'm proud of myself for making my lunch today and not spending a fortune on the food at Rockefeller Center. even though wichcraft's mozzeralla & fontina melt with tomato and olive spread, makes me blissfully happy. it's the little things in life.

and though i'm back at the day job, at least there is a lot of material all around me. i have at least a page of material on a lady at the office. if there's anything redeeming at all about these grinding day-jobs, it's the stuff all around you that can give you inspiration for your next project.

here's a character i'm working on named Jan Popper. She's basically based on a bitter drama department teacher i had in high school. There's a lot more to her. This is just the beginning :)

THE ACTRESS: Episode 1, Hannah

2010-01-07T09:16:00.021-05:00

this is a project that i'm really proud of. about two years ago, i got together with my friend and director Eliza Skinner and started plotting out the points of what would become my one woman show at UCB - 'USE IT'. 'USE IT' ran at UCB for nearly a year and garnered a Critic's Pick from Time Out NY as well as this lovely quote: 'ON THE MARK: Ann Carr is what most comics aren't: a fine actor.'

at our first meeting, Eliza asked me 'what is going on in your life right now? start from there.' bit by bit as my life kept rolling along - all these things came bubbling to the surface and eventually i had several characters and their stories to tell.

after being on some inspiring film shoots, i realized that i have this real drive and desire to tell stories through film, primarily as an actor but i really love writing too. i'm also so inspired by and impressed with the hilarious and specific work of my friend Michael Cyril Creighton on his web series Jack In The Box (shot by the super awesome and talented Jim Turner!). so, i decided that i wanted to take the stage show and spin it into this web-series. it's FUN. i can't wait to shoot episode 2. i'm just excited to see what I can create. i hope you enjoy it.

Happiness

2009-12-28T09:48:00.004-05:00

"Life holds so much-so much to be so happy about always. Most people ask for happiness on condition. Happiness can be felt only if you don't set conditions." ~Arthur Rubinstein

i just got back from Christmas with the family, where i had a mini life crisis. i go home periodically during the year, but lately Christmas has been a real bitch to get through.

part of this is my own wiring. i tend to make myself sick with worry about what will be and what is to come. and i also judge myself. and apparently i've decided that Christmas is a great time to concentrate on all possible harbingers of doom. why, i don't know. because things are good. life is good. i'm in love, i have a great passion and talent and i'm making real progress. all i know is that, when i'm in the pits there is no rational thought - and there is no way out of that business if you can't think rationally. because when half of your brain is concentrating on nightmares that you fabricate, it's really hard to channel that energy into constructive and productive thought. i'm working on it. self-destructive thinking is exactly that. and it kills happiness. it's important to take stock of where you are and what you want out of your life. but it's most important to look around you and see all of the beauty and love in your life. and to LAUGH. and on that note:

e train

2009-12-13T22:41:00.006-05:00

the sad song in the subway is all about changing and growing and i have a hard time keeping it together. i've had a few drinks tonight. holiday party. there's a bag of cat food in my lap. oh my GOD, am i THAT lady?! the man across from me has on shoes that are shining. bright brand new. nikes. my coat is old and the feathers poke out of it. an old bird, shedding. gretel helping hansel set the path. a dandelion forgetting. there's a cry in my throat. i'm a little drunk and feeling a bit sorry. i'm sober and feeling sad.

it gets better.

ape shit

2009-11-05T16:58:00.005-05:00

i started my day off right yesterday by acting alongside my wonderfully talented friend Michael Cyril Creighton (MCC) in his delightfully hilarious, witty, and wildly popular web series 'Jack in a Box'. then i proceeded to fall apart into a hot mess with each consecutive step closer to my day job. the shoot was such an inspiring and cool experience and i cannot wait to see the finished product. meanwhile, this Sunday, i'm shooting a scene from my solo show 'Use It' with Jim Turner (super talented man behind the camera for 'Jack in a Box'). it's gonna be guerrilla style (no permission/license) in a Starbucks, and a real, live baby is going to be in it! (because everyone knows real babies are better than fake ones. except when they cry.). Here's the most recent Jack in a Box 'The Mother'...uuggghhh! i love this shit!

hold fast

2009-10-27T16:42:00.004-04:00

i'm trying to keep hold of the film shoot i was in on Sunday and remember that i am an actress and an artist and i'm making progress. so hard to do when you are sitting at a desk under flourescent lights. it was one of the best experiences creating in a collaborative setting that i have had in a long time. it also reminded me that i'm a good actress. i know that i can do characters and change myself - but those are characters that i create. not that this is a minus. i love creating my own work, but it's very different from taking someone else's work, someone else's vision and carving a place in yourself so that you can tell their story. one thing that it re-inforced in me was how much i love the medium of film and how much i would love to do more. i love how it holds life up so that you can see it in all it's infinite intricacies. and i love how during and after the shoot it crystalized life into moments for me and opened up my mind to all these loveley film fantasies. wouldn't it be great to have a shit-load of money so you could make any film you wanted to make? maybe i shouldn't let money limit me, though. maybe i should make what i can with what i have and just keep auditioning and striving and trying to be in a g-d damn beautiful movie(s) some day. here's my latest character creation. her name is Jan Popper and i'm a mite obsessed.

getting hitched

2009-10-12T16:35:00.012-04:00

I just got engaged. He asked me on my birthday (Oct. 3), and since then I can't stop looking at my ring. Gotta check in every 5 seconds. It is one of the prettiest things I've ever been given. Warren said: 'I think you love that ring more than you love me.'

'NOOOOOO!' (furtive side glance to check in on my ring)

We've been together 10 years. Yep, in other words longer than a lot of marriages last (we win!) (just kidding!) (nah, i'm a little bit serious). I never thought in terms of a 'time line'. Perhaps because my ambitions bend towards establishing my career as an actress (i.e. - mememememe! - but in the best way possible), instead of enwombing a life and driving my Prius to Whole Foods for organic apples so i can make homemade baby food with my hand-crank baby food machine and then sit on our wrap-around porch and breast feed while observing a baby deer leaping through our wooded back-yard (i.e. my vision board. Well, a corner of it anyway. Again, i'm a little bit serious).

I recently remembered a recurring dream that I had when I was an adolescent and well into my early twenties. In this dream, i would be marrying the wrong person. These dreams would begin with me totally unsuspecting: I was SO HAPPY! Then i would be walking down the aisle and i would see the groom was someone i KNEW i didn't want to marry. I'd turn tail to run and i would awake in one of those screaming episodes that is doubly terrifying because you cannot make a sound. Your empty maw clawing at the mute night. Ever see the Oklahoma wedding ballet sequence? Sort of like that. Mind you, i've only recalled these dreams recently and i'm pleased to find that it explains a lot about the way i have talked and thought about marriage leading up to this point.

In the early days of our relationship Warren and i used to talk quite a-lot about how independent we were from each other, and how self-actualized, and how marriage was just a contract, and we didn't believe it worked, and anyway we're artists, and other really pedantic, obliviously ignorant stuff. Outwardly i would agree because i didn't want to believe in marriage. I'd seen bad marriages (my parents' being my main primer) and decided it sucked and would be best to avoid. You see a crappy marriage as an example of the institution and you think: 'hmmm... not so much'. So i characterized it as cheesey and cloying and co-dependant and destructive and weak and dorky all these things.

And then around year 8, i realized that in many ways Warren and i were already married: eight years together, four years LIVING together (which is an entirely different beast, and no easy feat). We've grown up together, spending about a third of our lives with one another. Holy shit, how did this HAPPEN?! You don't realize it when you're living it, but one day it creeps up on you and you realize... this person is an integral part of your life: He unflinchingly embarrasses himself willingly in front of you, and ENJOYS it. You assault him with rude and unfragrant body noises while watching hot vampire sex on True Blood. He behaves like an ass in front of your friends. You say things that you would NEVER dream of saying to anyone else EVER... IN YOUR LIFE. You both forget anniversaries (keep an eye on those BIRTHDAYS though. God forbid). When you get sick and have to go to the hospital because you STILL don't have health insurance, he sits with you in the emergency room for seven hours and holds you when you start crying at hour five - and laughs uncontrollably with you when the homeless dude walks out of the ER with an open jar of gherkins (?!). You both melt when the little baby girl with the big brown eyes at the table next to yours, smiles at you. He plays the straight-man to your neurotic freak fests.

And when you look at the beautiful ring he slaved to get you and instead of saying yes RIGHT AWAY like you are SUPPOSED to, you start crying that you're scared and you don't want to fuck things up and be like your parents, he looks at you unflinchingly and says

'It's just a ring'.

'Yeah. A really beautiful one.'

'You can always take it off.'

'Over my cold, dead, corpse.'

Then you both laugh because he gets it, and you get it, and you both get each other. And you both have each other. And you're so happy. And you're HOME.

Craptastic

2009-09-29T14:59:00.006-04:00

i feel like such an asshole because it's been over three months since my last post and i'm working at a desk job and my brain feels like cold oatmeal. so - i'm posting this video i made in an attempt to make myself feel somewhat creative/proactive/motivated. i'm going to try and make another one this week - however that most likely won't happen because this Saturday is my birthday!! and i have various birthday activities planned! yay birthdays!! here is Melody attempting to sing Pippin's 'Corner of the Sky':

hero

2009-06-04T09:21:00.005-04:00

it's a dirty flannel day. i am sitting at the 24 hour coffee shop with a lukewarm cup of cocoa. there's a drunk guy in front of the window pointing at indiscriminate things: CAR! LAMPOST! CARWASH-STREET-BUILDING! there's no particular reasoning i can make out behind his cataloging of the world. well, he is so drunk he's stumbling so...

something got taken away. i had it and then the world said, 'nope'. i think about how long i've been in New York, moving like molasses. it's like trying to break through a brick wall with a fucking spoon. i want so badly to make sense of what has unfolded but i can't. so, i give up today. i gave up last night too. i might give up for a few days. hopefully i'll have some reserve for my show on Friday. $5! UCB! 7pm!

who do i think i am? who am i to wish happiness? what right do i have to live my dream? i think these things right now. i do. i am wishing them away so hard. i am wishing them away with all my might. i just don't have much might today. all of the stuff that i should be embracing like: everyone has their own path, or - everything happens for a reason or - when one door closes another one opens or - there is something that can be learned from everything, just makes me want to interject with

'please, shut the fuck up. please, shut the fuck up and quit spewing hope like it's something real because i'm sick of my hope being scratched out of me.'

it's not nice. but there it is. i was waiting in line and Mariah Carey's 'Hero' came on and my eyes started stinging.

So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth
That a hero lies in you

REALLY MARIAH?! A hero in ME?!!
okay. i guess there is some cheesy, syrupy part of me that wants to have faith. that wants to believe. that wants to live life accompanied by the 'Glitter' soundtrack. i guess it's just one of those days when you've got to be where you feel. and if Mariah to the Carey is gonna resonate today, i will just let it echo in my heart. perhaps there is a hero in me. holy christ. at least i'm laughing right now. this shit is bananas.

JANEY'S RECESSION TIPS

2009-04-23T07:53:00.009-04:00

i'm unemployed these days, which is actually NOT a bad thing. i'm happier than i ever was while working. it's easier for me to see things in a positive light and i'm full of creative energies! while this recession has got almost everyone (including me) biting their nails, i decided to describe the way i've been feeling about it through my character Janey, in audio visual format. i hope you like it. if you do, you can vote FUNNY. my goal is to make one of these character videos per week. if i miss a week though, it's okay. and it's okay if i want to make up for the previous week with TWO videos the following week. i'm totally flex like that. and now, without further ado, please enjoy 'JANEY'S RECESSION TIPS':

JANEY'S RECESSION TIPS - watch more funny videos

It's a Biggun

2009-03-26T14:52:00.009-04:00

i'm gonna make up for lost time by blogging the SHIT out of this next post. it's a piece i read last night at this AWESOME reading series called How I Learned. if you have two legs or a motor-bike (fuck the MTA) and inhabit the island or one of the fair boroughs, you should absolutely check out the next reading (Dave Hill is a guest!). Here is a veritable tome dedicated to How I Learned My Adolescence Was Over. Boom:

I have a feeling that adult-hood or at least my adult-hood is sort of like a second stage of adolescence, except now I have to pay bills. Maybe it’s because I’ve chosen to live the life of a performer and writer and I don’t deal with the conventional trappings of house, car, dog and/or kid. Maybe it’s because I still read the horoscope section and pretend to be cynical but recently just cut out a Free Will reading for Libra because it said ‘You Libra, are hereby invited to regard the next 11 months as a time when you will make your own life a masterpiece. Unseen forces and unexpected allies will come to your assistance if you do’ and taped it into my journal. Maybe it’s because I slept with my buddy, (the name I gave my baby blanket. anything or anyone you love needs a name) until the age of nineteen.

I do have a crisp memory of when my adolescence began though. It was at the top of a water slide in Cedar Rapids Iowa. My dad and I had just gone to see Back to the Future. It was a father daughter date and one of the last times I remember being with my dad before he left for Florida for what was supposed to be a couple years but ended up being forever. He has a penchant for the nostalgic and as he looked up at me in my tankini about ready to push my self down the slide he said ‘Annie, I just realized this is probably one of the last experiences you will have as a kid.’ Bummer dad. I think I rolled my eyes and laughed at him for being so sentimental. But he was right. It was.

11/24/88 (Seventh Grade)
Dear Diary,
GOD! Why can’t I just disappear, huh? It’s pretty damn clear that my presence doesn’t mean a shit to anyone. I mean I’m treated like a fucking baby every fucking place that I go! I am so fucking sick of it! So what if I like love stories with happy endings?! So what?! I’m sorry, that’s just the way I am right now! I don’t like those stupid dumb, un-meaningful science fiction movies that all these deranged older people around me (my step-brother and older sister) like. I’m so sick of being treated like my opinions don’t mean a fucking thing! CHRIST!!!

Needless to say, seventh grade sucked. Fast forward to freshman year of college. A real shit storm. I was home-sick. I had no clue how to take care of myself because I’d been so overprotected and sheltered growing up in Iowa. Of course I didn’t consider that to be the case. I thought I was tough and self-sufficient, but as it turned out, I was putty. It was so devastating to discover that I wasn’t as cool or independent or grown-up as I thought I was. I remember closing myself into an orange bathroom stall in the building that housed my English class and sobbing so hard that I was dry heaving. So disappointed that I was still a baby.

On top of being lost at sea, I had a whopper of an eating disorder. Which is sadly not uncommon among young women (or as I’ve also learned, older women). It wasn’t the puking kind, gross. Just the Skelator one. I called it my problem with food. My first role in a college production was as Grandma Joad in The Grapes of Wrath. If that’s not a sign I don’t know what is. Other than getting cast as a death camp survivor. It wasn’t about losing weight or having the perfect body. It was about controlling everything around me because I felt like if I gave in to any impulse, (read anything enjoyable) I would lose all control. Fun times. It served its purpose. It kept me child-like. And if it didn’t mark the end of my adolescence it did help me to mark the beginning of the end. I was like a snake sloughing off her old skin. Or if you are a fan of the precious - like me – a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. Or if you are feeling the holy spirit and slightly narcissistic – like that Jesus guy’s forty days in the desert.

7/26/94 (Summer After Freshman Year of College)
I am SCREAMING! Inside. These thoughts will not leave me. I hate this so much. I hate food! I hate it for making me so FUCKING crazy so that I cannot have one fucking thought without this damn obsession that haunts me and will not let go. I HATE THIS!

That summer, my friend Laura asked me if I wanted to get on a sailboat and cross Lake Superior with four other girls. I was spending the summer in my mother’s house and crawling the walls out of boredom. YES!!! Anything that would get me away from my mom and that cathedral quiet house. I had also taken on this cult like job with U.S. PIRG going door to door about water quality and trying to reach quota and I HATED it.

Crossing Lake Superior, also known as the watery grave of the Edmund Fitzgerald, is not an expedition to be taken lightly. You can die. It’s pretty serious stuff. But apparently I was less worried about death than a summer gaping with boredom and megalomaniac hippies behaving eerily like Ricky Roma and Dave Moss from Glengarry Glenn Ross.

The co-captains of the crossing would be Laura and Sarah. They were two years ahead of me and they went to public school while I went to parochial. Sarah was my first girl crush. She was, and is, a beauty. Quiet, extremely bright and quick with a come-back if you were disparaging to her or her friends. She was like Ione Sky in Say Anything except with the endowments of Marilyn Monroe. And I wanted to be like her. Which for some reason I couldn’t cop to, even in my journal:

8/10/94
The thing about this trip. I came unknowing. I feel at times like I know very little, especially around Sarah. It is funny. I never knew her really, but I was always in awe of her. She was this friend of Laura’s who seemed so amazingly angelic and perfect to me that she seemed untouchable. But I think I have come to realize that things and people as well, aren’t all that they may appear to be. I no longer feel in awe of Sarah (I was full of shit – I was totally in awe of her and remember eating tons of homemade pie at Silver Islet because I wanted curves like her). Sometimes I think I am being jealous or childish. (Ya think)?

I’m sitting in my apartment in Queens with yoga toes on my feet right now. Those are the gel devices that spread your toes apart and are supposed to provide a yoga ‘work-out’ for your foot muscles. This is the kind of shit I spend my money on, instead of something responsible like a new cutting board or socks. My right toes have been tingling the last few days and I am playing the hypochondriac and worrying about all the awful, morbid things that this could mean. I don’t have health insurance and although things are looking promising on the acting front, let’s face it – this business is a crap shoot. A crap shoot that seems to also have the momentum of molasses. So I guess I feel unsettled. Don’t grown-ups feel settled? Don’t they have health insurance? Don’t they have careers that pay them a comfortable or at least a decent salary? Not necessarily, I guess. My point is, I should have health insurance. I should have a baby or at least the conditions under which it would be safe or at least considered a good idea to have one. I should own something more substantial than an ipod nano (which I lost).

Great. Now you're all gonna think I’m clueless and unsettled. I’m figuring it out is all. I think that’s the best I can do right now. And actually I don’t think anyone ever has it all figured out ever. At least I’m not nineteen anymore. Sweet Christ, that was SO tough. Also – did I mention I have a show? Running at Upright Citizen’s Brigade? Featured in Time Out NY? I AM a grown up see?! My show is sort of my life right now and I’ll probably corner you later and give you a postcard. (except i didn't have any postcards to give out at the show. whoops.). I'm working on it folks.

Three Things:

2009-03-09T15:30:00.005-04:00

MY SHOW HAS BEEN EXTENDED! If you haven't had a chance to see it - or can't wait to see it again :)

USE IT
THIS THURSDAY, March 12, 8PM and THURSDAY, March 26, 8PM
at UCB THEATRE
307 W. 26th Street (@ 8th Ave) *** (212) 366-9176
http://newyork.ucbtheatre.com/shows/1957

THE PRESS IS IN!

TIME OUT NY:
On the mark: Ann Carr is what most comic's aren't: a fine actor. See her convincing and very funny characters.

THE COMIC'S COMIC:
Ann Carr doesn't simply create characters, she jumps into them so fully that you wonder where Carr went. I often want to tell anyone who likes Showtime's new comedy 'United States of Tara' that if they really want to see how one person can inhabit so many different personalities and leap from one to another at will, then they should take a closer look at Ann Carr. She is truly captivating.

THE APIARY:
Ann Carr is a versatile character actress... she is always redefining herself and pushing against any limits.

TONY CARNEVALE (pal & fellow performer):
I saw Ann Carr's show at UCB a couple weeks ago and she blew me away. Such a funny, touching, human experience.

MY MOMENT WITH GLENN CLOSE!

I don't know if you are one to believe in signs. Personally, I'm a selective sign seeker. Meaning, I pretty much decide that something is a sign if I want it to be. While I was sitting on a stool as the gatekeeper at a V.I.P. lounge at an art fair yesterday, who should walk up to the entrance to admire the beautiful view (it was right on the Hudson) with her beautiful smile but GLENN CLOSE. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to infringe on her day or ruin the moment by scaring her off - so i didn't say anything - I just smiled really big & goofy and silently mouthed IT'S GLENN! She saw me, looked me right in the eyes and smiled the most terrifically warm smile. seriously it was a semi-religious experience. i was almost in tears afterwards and i wanted to hug her. and the whole time i'm thinking to myself: 'you can tell i'm an actor! you were just like me once! i know this can't possibly mean as much to you as it does to me, but you can tell all that stuff just by looking at me, right?!' I'm a tard. It was a moment. So, if you believe in auspicious portends - that HAS to be one. And i've decided it means my show this Thursday is going to be AMAZING. So you should come!

NICE

2009-01-20T13:30:00.007-05:00

What a nice day! Aretha sang. Obama was sworn into office as our nation's President. I cried. And they posted my Apiary interview! http://www.theapiary.org/archives/2009/01/inside_with_ann.html#more

USE IT premiers at UCB this Thursday, Jan. 22, 8pm. I hope you can come!

Because if you find yourself crying openly in a Starbucks about the webisode audition you just went on, you need to find a way to channel that shit.

In her newest solo show 'Use It', character maven Ann Carr bites the hand that feeds her (well almost feeds her) and draws upon her host of experiences as an actress in New York, poking fun at the industry and the people who fuel it.

Written and Performed by Ann Carr
Directed and Nurtured like a soft baby rabbit named Chester by Ms. Eliza Skinner

January 22, 8pm (alongside Tastiskank)
January 29, 8pm (alongside Catch a Rising Star(s))

web: http://newyork.ucbtheatre.com/shows/1957

can use hairbrush

2009-01-05T22:16:00.011-05:00

usually at an audition there's a woman with hair perfectly pasted in place; made-up like someone has taken an airbrush to her face. these, i'm sure you will agree, are probably not horrible qualities, but i find them a smidge hateful none the less.

i'm not unattractive and i can use a hairbrush. and not to toot my own horn but alright... i was on the homecoming court in high-school and rocked a pretty snazzy Laura Ashley'esque dress to mark the occasion. however, whenever i get in the vicinity of these human Barbies, i feel like a cave-woman crawling out of my den of dirt with lice leaping out of my hair. or Courtney Love.

i think what bothers me most about my dislike for these women is the knowledge that i'm in company with them. no matter how shallow i determine they are (and sometimes it's like, totally gag me with a spoon inducing?), we are playing the same game. i'm aware that some of this may be spurred by insecurity. there's probably some junior-high slight i've never fully let go of (flash-back to me sobbing uncontrollably on the floor of the girls bathroom after being dumped by Jeff Mobley for Shannon MacAtee - a much more buxom and 'exploratory' 8th Grader - inconsolable until someone suggested we go to Wendy's and get Frosties and Fries).

who knows, maybe Barbie is a closet genius and i'm the asshole who thinks i'm so much more original and interesting because i write my own material and stage my own shows. i'm certainly not the only 'original' in this city - kaleidoscopic in it's uniqueness - and i'm aware of that.

i guess what i'm trying to say is sometimes i just wish these bitches would shut their dumb-ass faces. today i was party to a conversation which pretty much went down like this:

dude: in a monotone voice to convey the fact that he could care less about everything (except, of course, getting in this girl's pants) - You wanna hear something really gross. I mean, totally disgusting.

babs: in a voice trying to be ironic to show the dude she's interesting and confident because she feels the polar opposite inside: Oh my God, you know me - we go way back (this is funny because they've only just met, get it?!) - i LOVE disgusting shit.

dude: continues with gross story which is really not that gross.

babs: (delivered in an ironic tone, of course): Oh my God, that is SO nasty.

i sound bitter don't i? i just notice this shit, okay? and my whole entire being roils with a gigantic inner heave when i do.

maybe the Barbies sense this when they purposely slither their painted on seven jeans into my path and say 'excuse me' in a steamy voice meant to convey 'watch out - i might be dangerous' - but which just comes across sounding very sibilant and slightly moronic.

i observe the seeming ease with which they navigate the nerves of a call back: giggling and tossing their hair behind their shoulder as though they're on some photo shoot for a glossy. the way they flirt with everyone in the room (especially the casting director or whomever they deem most powerful) while ignoring the only other woman in the room (whom they have decided is their competition to the death for a non-speaking fast food commercial).

i hate them so much! okay maybe hate is too strong a word: strongly abohor? have a healthy dose of malevolence for?

maybe next time i'll be able to put my red-hot demon away and really observe so that i can use them in my next show. in which they will suffer a gory and bloody demise at the hands of a louse infested, snaggle-toothed, neanderthal.

Blood and Guts

2009-01-04T08:42:00.008-05:00

I'm not even going to say the thing about how i haven't posted in a long time okay? we all know that and so - there's really no point in pointing it out. Just because it's on my guilty conscience doesn't mean i have to tell everyone that i feel bad about it. Because no-one else really cares about it except me. It's sort of like the time when i spilled the beans to my mom that i was unemployed because i don't have a dishonest (read self-preserving) bone in my body. Except that she trumps my guilty conscience with all her 'LOVE' and 'CONCERN'. C'mon! She asked how my day was at work! Total sneak attack. anyway...

Last night i went to see the brilliant, slightly disturbed (and i thought i had a tendency to be negative and self-absorbed) comedian/writer/performer/thinker/man-on-fire Marc Maron in his solo show 'Scorching The Earth' which essentially focuses on his divorce and the events surrounding. Let me just preface this by saying that my boyfriend, who is also a stand-up comic, ADORES Mr. Maron. Ever since we started dating I've gotten an earful of how AMAZING and GENIUS and BRILLIANT and HONEST this guy is. So even though I've only met him once, he pops into the conversation once in a while: playing the part of the successful but emotionally tormented older brother or the popular guy at school who also happens to be a poet and closet intellectual. He is all that but after seeing him in this show I would also throw in tortured and brave and also a bit of a douche (i think he would be the first to cop to the douche assessment folks). I don't think i have ever seen someone on stage wrestle with their demons the way this guy did. He laid it all out there for us. It was like he made a clean, precise incision from heart to guts and let it all spill out in a bloody mess while carefully cataloging it all. Essentially he was a clothed naked man. One moment particularly resonated for me and i woke this morning still thinking of it: he was describing his former wife 'she was an ANGEL' and just let the hurt hit him as he doubled over and let out a sad cry. It was one of the bravest, openly narcissistic, brilliantly crafted pieces i have ever seen. I was entertained by him, he's sharply, funny- but it was also like sitting down for a drink with a family member you know peripherally who seems to have it together until without warning they start ripping into the maw of meat that is their heartache, over and over again, with a dull knife while you butter your piece of bread and stuff it in your mouth waiting, wide-eyed and rapt like an asshole, for them to take you to the basement level of their pain.

So go see it. Although, you might never want to get married after you do. No, seriously, the man is amazing. And tragic. And probably getting laid every night.

Holy Shit

2008-10-30T14:48:00.005-04:00

Holy shit. What just happened with that audition? First there was the jerk that asked if I’d gotten the (name of cable network inserted here) call back – because he did! Congratulations Mr. Lucky Pants! No I didn’t say that. What I did say, with what I’m certain was a tone of red hot embarrassment in my voice was, ‘No, I did not. Thanks a lot fuck-o!’ No, I didn’t say that either. Okay, just the fuck-o part. And then I listened to him go on about his call back. That was lots of fun. Then the casting director comes out and screams ‘HI HONEY!’ to the other girl waiting to audition and they scream and giggle about a shoot the girl just wrapped for an hour. AND we're auditioning TOGETHER! Me and the super petite, perfectly coiffed and made up, blond gift basket of a girl. OMG guys! This’ll be fun!

Kill me now. Seriously just do it. After I shove this massive burrito in my face to make the pain go away. HA! It’s funny because it’s true!!!

What is it with me? Am I antisocial, do I hate people? Because every time I get in an uncomfortable moment like that my entire being screams ‘GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!’ I can look at this two ways: 1) trying really hard to see any humor or good that can come from this experience 2) evaluating my entire ten year stretch in NYC based on this one audition for a hosting spot on a webisode . Of course the healthy choice would be #1, but I don’t know you guys, #2 is pretty tempting!

Let's just put it this way. I was competent and then at the last moment something in me said 'fuck it' and I totally bombed. If I’m completely honest with myself – I wasn’t interested in this audition. I studied the sides but I wasn’t invested. So I wasn’t able to sell it, which is the problem. Because I am an artist and so, I feel really super-duper fake when I walk into a commercial audition and it’s apparent that it’s not even remotely about the copy, but about the hard sell. Which is important, don't get me wrong. The American Marketplace could use a little hard selling right now. Some people are great at this and they are making a lot more money than I am, but I just can’t bring myself to go there. I wish I could. Otherwise I’d buy a Coke to go with this burrito. Okay, kill me now. No seriously - because a suit just walked by my cubicle and asked me when I’m gonna become permanent and told me I need my own name plate. LOL!!!

My Inner Sisyphus

2008-10-09T12:29:00.004-04:00

Have you ever been surprised by yourself, but not in a good way? Lately I've been giving myself a hard time, and I need to turn my ship around. So I'm gonna break it down and take a bit of advice that my lovely friend Eliza gave me a few days ago. We were talking about her big move to L.A.. She was encouraging me to think about L.A. as a possibility (so many more opportunities!) and I was expressing my deathly fear of doing so. I said something to the effect of - 'I don't know, I just don't feel like I feel right. I need to be more well adjusted and I need to feel good about myself' and then she said what I knew she would say as soon as the words came out of my mouth - 'You can't wait for that because you'll never feel 100% rightor good.' And of course, she's right. When you are afraid of something, everything becomes a battle on the level of sisyphus pushing that damn boulder up the mountain. Sometimes life requires a little danger and daring. Or at least faking it 'til you make it.

I've decided I will set aside a week in February to 'dip my toes in L.A.'. The prospect is looming over me like a cloud. Or a boulder. I keep thinking of all the reasons not to go - my lack of connections, my fear of L.A. driving, my fear of rejction, my age, and just not feeling right or good about myself. Maybe I will have an anxiety attack just as I'm about to sit down for a meeting. Maybe I'll do nothing when I'm out there and end up roaming the aisles of a giant super market at three a.m. stuffing my face with ho-ho's and ding dongs and regretting my choice of tasty snack-cake treat because of the bad aftertaste and film of arificial fat coating the roof of my mouth. But the worst thing - really, would be not to go at all.

Revelation with Janey

2008-09-22T22:44:00.006-04:00

I made this video a couple of weeks ago with my friend Brian Russo. I have never really researched or understood how a video gets traffic and many, many views until now: people (thanks friends!) decide to post them on their blogs and when that blog is widely followed - the views start climbing exponentially. For example my Janey video had something like 745 views on Saturday and now it's at 1,426 views ... okay maybe not exponential but for a performer who's videos have gotten an approximate average of 300 views total - that's A LOT. YAY!! I'm still not sure how much, if any, control I have over how to get these out to the world - but I'm trusting that if i just keep creating them - they will find their way. And this is certainly an encouraging event. I'm already thinking of the next episode and a continuing 'series' - something I'd like to do with all my characters. Here's my little creation:

Lady, You Got a Problem

2008-09-10T12:20:00.003-04:00

I have a confession to make: I'm a junkie. One of my rituals these days is reading the NY Times OpEd first thing in the morning. The wiser Ann inside would really like to take time to digest the morning. Have a cup of coffee. Breathe in the fresh new day. Look out from my beachfront property at the hazy ocean be-decked in muted lavender, pink and sapphire. I have the coffee down. Gotta work on the breathing. And right now the view from my window is a garret so a NY Times OpEd piece is prettier to look at. OKAY, FINE! I'm a user! Andrew Sullivan, Huffington Post, The Page, sometimes Drudge Report when it doesn't annoy me and always NY Times. I should probably throw Washington Post into my news junkie cocktail too. I swear, I'm not usually like this. I'm not usually such a whore for pundits, but there is so much riding on this election. As a nation I feel like we are climbing the high-dive, and the thought of jumping is both butterfly thrilling and completely terrifying. Sort of like someone holding a gun to your head and asking you why you look so nervous. Let's paint a picture ladies and gents: I logged on to NY Times this morning, THEN I bought the Times for my train ride into town. While I was reading said Times I was visibly grimacing while I read the article about how Palin billed Alaskan taxpayers for the more than 300 nights she spent at home during her first year and a half in office. And then I almost blurted an expletive while reading about that double-crossing little kermit the troll known by the name Joe Lieberman. Then, finally when I arrived at the office - I went straight to Huffington Post. Whatever, it's not like I have a problem. I can stop whenever I want.

[to a lady on the subway] What are you reading? Is that the Times? Oh yeah? What's - what are you reading about? Can I just - just let me look at it. Just a little peek, c'mon! JUST GIVE ME THE GODDAMN PAPER!!! [wrestling lady to the ground] AAGGHHHHH!!!!

GIMMEE FIVE!

2008-08-21T13:00:00.003-04:00

In an effort to stay on task and keep momentum moving me along the path towards my next solo effort (which seems to be taking an elephant's age to accomplish) and instead of trolling through CB2 to look for furniture I cannot afford, here is a short sketch of some observations that I made whilst out on the town auditioning yesterday. Now if I could only get a callback...

busy casting office
short, tense woman in cargo pants and a fake tan marches in with her six year old in tow.

Lucas, go take your pictcha mommy'll sign you in. Go! C'mon we gotta be over for the Kraft audition in an hour!

(to everyone in the room) Oh my God! We were on the Verazzano for like 20 minutes coming in here and he's got another one right after this and we have to get ready for a shoot tomorrow. These kids! Right honey?! Right! You my big super star?! Yeah! You gonna make us a lot of money?! Yeah?! Gimmee five! Yeah!

Okay honey go sit over... oh i guess there's no room for you - all these people are sitting here - I guess there's no room for a kid - oh THANK YOU! Thank you hon! Love the highlights! Sit down there honey that nice lady made room for you. Look isn't she pretty? Maybe she'll play your mommy, huh?! Huh?! You wanna new mommy?! Look at'im! He's like, YES! You want to take a look at the script? You sure? You might want to take a look at it because they want you to know what you're doing. You want to know what you're doing, right? Right? Lucas, look at me, look at mommy, LOOK AT MOMMY. Remember what we talked about? Bugsy's a great doggy and we love him but having a dog comes with special big boy responsibilities and we don't want to have to give him away right? Right? Right? Look at me Lucas. LUCAS.

Okay,no? You want your PSP? Okay but you gotta take a look at it before you go in. Just think of Bugsy. Okay.

(she turns and looks - recognizing someone)

OH MY GAWD! BOB! BOB PHILLIPS! IT'S ME DENISE! YEAH! YEAH!

We met on that one shoot - oh GOD! What WAS it?!

(searching her mind)

It wasn't Burger King, was it Carnival Cruise Lines? No! AT&T! Yeah, that was it! And it was POURING rain! POURING!

(looks down at a little boy) Hi Michael! Gosh you've grown so fast! You're like a bean! You gonna audition today? Yeah?! Good luck! Gimmee five! Yeah!

Mommy's talking right now babe -

OH MY GOD Michael! You're hair's gotten lighter - it's so different.

No it was definitely darker before.

No it definitely was.

No, it was - IT WAS. Trust me, I was there! Ha!

WHAT IS IT LUKE?!

(grabs some sides hands them over to him)

Here

So anyway - wow GOD! It was POURING RAIN that day. God I can't believe it! You look good Bob, did you loose weight? Well you look great. Highlights? No? Just a sec -

(door opens casting director walks out)

Oh, hiii! Denise Peters, Luke's mom. Now Luke has a scratch and some stitches over his eyebrow - you can notice it it's kinda big-n-ugly right now - but the stitches are coming out tomorrow and with a little make-up it's nothin'. We've got a shoot tomorrow even. But I just wanted you to know. The stitches are coming out tomorrow and that should be gone by the shoot. Okay? Okay?? THANKS!

(to everyone in the room) The director said they'd just put a band-aid on it because he's a kid. Thank God! I don't know. Half the people love his faux-hawk half the people hate it. I personally think its totally cool, right dude?! Right Lukie?! Luke, Luke - right?! These games are like crack cocaine i swear, right?! Right Lukie?! Gimmee Five! Alright!! You gonna bring home the bacon?! Yeah!

Keep On The Sunny Side

2008-08-20T09:00:00.007-04:00

debbie downer me: Hey Ann. How are you?

sunny side me: Um, AWESOME?! How else should i feel?

ddm: Why don't you take a minute to really think about this...

ssm: Okay... Yep! I'm good! Things are great. I'm working on my next show - slowly but surely. I've been writing new pieces for new characters AND I just auditioned for a movie last night! It was my first movie audition!

ddm: You were the only one who had to audition from the reading though.

ssm: I don't know, was i? isn't it great to even be thought of at all though?

ddm: i think if you really wrack your brains and get comfortable with the darkness inside, like the southern alcoholic side of the family, you'll realize that things, well - they are actually really shitty.

ssm: Why because i have to poop?

ddm: No, you just took care of that.

ssm: Yeah, i did! Ahhhh! I feel so relieved! Like a great burden has been lifted! I'm FREE!

ddm: - I actually meant shitty emotionally. Like - YOU'RE NOT GETTING ANY YOUNGER shitty.

ssm: Ugh, God. What a downer.

ddm: That's what i do.

ssm: Apparently. God, you must be the life of the party.

ddm: Not really.

ssm: I was being sarcastic.

ddm: oh.

ssm: You remind me of Eeyore.
ddm: pretty much.

ssm: Listen, things aren't so bad.

ddm: Hmph!

ssm: Well, I know you worry a LOT about whether people like you/approve of you/think you are talented. You worry a LOT about whether or not you're a success. You spend a LOT of your time just WORRYING. What if I told you that none of that mattered?

ddm: Who are you, the 'Giant Within'?

ssm: Actually...

ddm: It MUST MATTER!

ssm: But it DOESN'T. YOU HAVE NO CONTROL!

ddm: Oh God, someone's been watching Oprah.

ssm: You don't have any control over anything, or anyone - except yourself. Except your own choices, your own mind, your own actions. YOU get to decide what you think of yourself because, whether you get it or not - your own opinion of yourself is the only one that matters. And it matters so, so much what you think of yourself because it's the only self you will ever have in this world! This is it, you know? Also - obviously this whole 'woe is me' thing isn't really working for you.

ddm: It's really not... OMG.

ssm: What?

ddm: That feels kind of good to realize.

ssm: Guess what?

ddm: What?

ssm: IT'S TRUE!

ddm: Whoa, wait a sec -

ssm: You're having a conversation with yourself on a type-pad!

ddm: Hey, be patient, I'm learning.

ssm: Sorry, your right. I'll try to be more patient.

ssm: We're the same person, see? So - you have it in you to be happy because all that happy talk was actually - YOU.

ddm: Yes. But it's not that easy.

ssm: It is and it isn't. It isn't easy to get out of the dumps sometimes and see the light at the end of the tunnel of your sad thoughts. But if you are determined to bravely look into the light, and see the alternative - it can be pretty easy to accept the good. Because it feels better than feeling bad! It also helps if you have a friend.

ddm: Like you?

ssm: Yes! I am your friend!

ddm: Thanks!

ssm: Your welks. I'll help you. We'll work on it together.

ddm: Hey, at least we're not clinically depressed, right?

ssm: Really? That's your attempt at being happy?

ddm: Well, it's a start.

ssm: Also, you have a WONDERFUL boyfriend who loves you and cares for you and feeds you dumplings and pats your belly.

ddm: Yeah. He's awesome. And I have an amazing best friend who gets me like nobody else and ALWAYS knows the right thing to say. In fact, I can see her influence in you, i mean me.

ssm: You're looking sunnier by the minute kid.

ddm: Thanks gurl.

ssm: You're my homie.

ddm: Hey -

ssm: Hm?

ddm: You're pretty cool, we should hang out more often.

ssm: I'd like that. But can we have a rule?

ddm: Okay, what?

ssm: We only say nice things to eachoter, no trash talk allowed - and on special occasions, like today, treat ourselves to jamoca almond fudge ice cream on a sugar cone.

ddm: Deal!

ssm: Let's hug it out.

ddm: That's kind of weird, we're in the office.

ssm: C'mon! Who cares?!

ddm: Oh Okay.

ddm: (sighs) I love hugs.

ssm: I know. Me too.

beach book

2008-08-01T12:37:00.005-04:00

i love books. also - i love the beach. guess what's gonna happen?! the two are gonna come together and make my life AMAZING next week. i'm bound for the beach with my beau in tow. i'll also be bearing a bag of books. one of the things that makes me so happy is taking an extremely long lunch hour on a warm day such as this and strolling the aisles of Barnes & Noble. i would be loftier and visit a local book-seller if that existed, but alas. i don't think they exist anymore, do you? i believe they have gone the way of the local coffee shop and the local porn store. i purchased 'the time traveler's wife' for a ridiculous amount. the book is in paperback and doesn't even have one of those yummy nubby covers that i love to slide my hand over and over. it's just a plain paperback. but i'm excited for it. and i can't wait to pop a cold one, get deliciously numb, and sink into it. one of the other things that i love about the beach is the drawl of the ocean creepy crawling into the recesses of your brain so that it becomes as regular as the womb. this calms me. i got anxious last night wondering if my mother would still be impressed with my handful of commercials since Ed Norton's aunt moved in next door. I know my sister won't be. she's hard to please. it was bothering me so much this morning. but then i thought - why? because i care too much what they think, that's why. and i need to care a lot more about what i think. this is what i spend $65 a week on. i forgot to mention that my family is going to be at the beach. it will be nice to see them - but i always get too anxious about how they will judge me. and it's tiresome. good thing i have a book to escape to. books and beer. YUM.

little troll man

2008-07-14T16:15:00.006-04:00

I've been in a relationship for a long time. Only recently during a ladies only event was I reminded of what loneliness can sometimes drive you to as I related a story about my dating days. I was a bad dater. By this I mean that often, the men I found myself drawn to were beneath me. This sounds snotty, but literally, they were shorter than me and one of them didn't have shoulders. His body sort of went large'ish head, neck and then super sloped shoulders. My story at the ladies only event was centered upon one particular suitor who I met on a student film project. The only reason I think I was remotely attracted to this chap was that we had to repeatedly kiss for a scene It wasn't so much that he was a good kisser, it was just something to do and as a poor actress just coming to the city with no friends and no social life to speak of - I NEEDED SOMETHING TO DO! His name was Asaf - very typical of my inclination towards the Jewish persuasion - and he had hair everywhere except his receding hairline. Let's just preface this with saying - I decided I didn't like him early on, but continued to date him because I was lonely. Always a smart move. The particular memory of note began with quite a lovely meal at a sushi restaurant. I love sushi so this was great with me. After we ordred, the dinner conversation went a little something like this:

You know Ann, I think you're really emotionally intelligent

I'm not sure what to say. Thanks? Let's see what he has to say next:

Have you ever had your IQ tested?

Pushy. I had and didn't want to talk about it so I lied and said no.

I had mine tested - basically I'm a genius

'Really? how's that workin' out for you? I guess pretty well. 'Cause you figured out how to get me to go out with you. Ohhhh! This is fun! Tell me another story about how GENIUS you are!' Which of course I didn't say. But oh sweet Jesus, to go back in time!

After our lovely meal of sushi and condescension we headed back to my place in Brooklyn to have an 'evening' together. It was one of those box lay-outs and everything was painted girly pink (not my decor inspiration) with paper thin walls. Upon receiving him in my boudoir, he asked if he could see my closet.

ummm... okay. weird.

I had a beautiful 1930's slip that i had thrifted that summer. Asaf picks up the delicate garment with his grubby little hands.

can i try it on?

Now, I was brought up to be polite and so typical of my upbringing - I didn't want to offend his creepy inclination to ask if he could try on my lady things. Also I was thinking - 'I can't believe he is for real. I'm just gonna go along with it so in case he's joking, I come off as cool and put to rest that whole 'emotionally intelligent' nonsense. But he was for real. Oh yes, all 5'6" of his hairy little troll man body draped in my vintage silk slip was so, so, wrongly real.

It was really an experience I can honeslty say I'll never forget. And that's unfortunate. Or maybe not. I definitely know how to spot a troll now.

excuse me

2008-07-11T15:59:00.008-04:00

Okay. So this happened: I was standing in line, as I often do on payday, at the H&M dangerously situated 1/2 a block from my temp job. Anyone who has shopped more than once at the 5th Ave. location, as I have, knows that each register has a separate cue. Noticing that there was one cue with no-one lined up behind the last customer, I switched lines. And then: you know the type of person who sort of has a slightly disgusted look about them at all times and dresses as though they collected their ensemble from the bottom of the closet? Well, one of them was standing in the line next to mine. Sort of like Rhea Perlman except with no hope.

As soon as I step into line - she looks over and notices that she's in the slower line. The lady she's waiting behind is taking FOREVER and she lost her chance to get in a better line, MY LINE. Except! Except! Oh wait folks! Maybe there's a glimmer of hope here! Maybe she can put her thinking cap on and better her chances and somehow her life by cutting in front of me!

Now, there are a variety of ways that a person can execute a cut - and usually there is a certain degree of finesse and self-poise the executioner possesses. When cutting in line for example, you want to carry it off as though it's the most natural thing in the world. God GAVE you this spot and there's no sense in pretending anyone was there before you. Sure someone may say 'Hey cutter! I was here first!' In which case you give them your best 'reptilian come no closer to me' look and turn your back for they exist no more.

Not Rhea II. No, she took a different route: the diplomatic cutter route:

'Excuse me, I think I'm gonna go there' pointing to the space in front of me.

My response was one of my proudest to date because it was so perfectly timed and had that cutting, stop you in your tracks superiority of Mrs. Huxtable, Felicia Rashad herself:

'Oh, you do?'

At which point I shot her my best 'reptilian come no closer to me' look and turned to the register to check out.

Oh Paula

2008-07-09T14:34:00.007-04:00

Hey y'all! You ever just think life is passing you by? Like hours through the sandglass? Let's just break it down:

1. I'm at a job where it is so quiet, and so boring, that i can literally hear the air. This is no joke. I wish it were.
2. Someone told me they LOVE doing expense reports, and they were serious.
3. And I'm thinking of going into the ladies bathroom stall and having a good cry because I can hear my dreams dying, like the slow fart of a once robust red balloon as it deflates. Finally coming to rest on an oil slick smeared with rotten cabbage and pidgeon poop.

I don't have to be sad though! Because you know what? I'm getting paid to pop a squat ladies and gentlemen! Well, not literally but, well basically. I eat a LOT of fiber. So, I'm a seat warmer! And you know what seat warmers do?! They watch an excessive amount of Paula Deen Youtube videos! When the goin' is tough, and let me tell you - I sure have seen my fair share of roughage, ladies and gents - it's time to turn the channel to the one woman who can wrap you up in a blanket of butter and make you believe everything's gonna be okay:

SING OUT LOUISE!!!

2008-07-03T14:42:00.002-04:00

Well, little miss muffet may be sitting on her office chair right now, but at 4:15 this evening she will commit the harrowing act of auditioning for a musical titled: 'Nudists In Love' *no nudity involved so keep your pants on there jack*. I haven't sung in front of a crowd since my appearance as a dance hall girl in 'Sweet Charity'. And yes, I CAN show you a good time. I love to sing - but i have shied away from it for years because - well, this is New York - home of Broadway Belters and grease paint and character shoes and tight pants and - you know? I love musicals but i'm just not like THAT. You know, the musical theatre tribe. Though I love what they do, I love what they do - i'm just not like that. Never could relate. Anyway. In spite of my fear and doubt, I'm excited! And nervous. Whatever the outcome of today, I hope that I will keep trying to sing out because - it makes me HAPPY to sing. Just this morning, while i was singing in the kitchen in my underwear to prepare - i felt that jolt of energy and magic that happens when you open your mouth and shine out a little song. And the more I think about it - it's something that all of us posess (some not as melodic granted) - and I think - desire. Like sex. And on that note - here's a little number by an old gal with a lot of knowledge on the former and a little knowledge about Unbreaking a Heart:

David Militello

2008-07-02T09:22:00.003-04:00

This week, for some reason, has been tough. No motivations, no inspirations, no good. And it's not like things aren't going well. But this temp job is KILLING me. I have a flair for the dramatic, i suppose, and when one area of my life sucks -I sort of allow the rest of it to go to sucksville too. I know I shouldn't. It's sort of like I'm choosing to eat cardboard. I know it's not good and I can find something better to eat, but right now - I'm just gonna eat the damn cardboard.

So with that premise lain: Usually at night-time, i wind my way to the television in our bedroom. Lately, I've felt sort of guilty about this because I know if I were more productive, I would maybe work on my show or write a symphony. Anyway, last night, guilt ridden, I tucked into an episode of 'America's Got Talent. I usually feel even more guilt ridden for enjoying these kinds of shows because I know how exploitative they can be and there's this whole mean schadenfreud thing built into them. But last night, there was David. This tiny little 9 year old boy with autism who was gonna come on stage and sing. They have the whole backstory with the mom and dad. David sitting on her lap. David with a dreamy look in his eyes. David turning into his parents for a hug. DEAR GOD PLEASE LET HIM BE GOOD. I lost my shit at 'Ben':

Sometimes, it's good to remember that there is good in this world. I don't mean to be heavy, I just mean David reminded me that it's okay. Life is good. Sometimes, even on a show like 'America's Got Talent', true beauty and love make an appearance. People are not all robotic office stiffs and sometimes the little guy wins.

anticlimax

2008-07-01T16:52:00.003-04:00

i'm trying on a new blog identity. it's called dots. hope you like it. i like it. i'm trying to be possitive. i am really trying. did you ever dislike someone so much that you don't even want to see their face? and you make up tart comebacks to say to them when they get you ruffled?...heh-heh, yeah. guess you could say i'm in that space right now.

need a new camcorder. think the old one is busted. have to take it into b&h and see if they think some extra life can be squeezed out of it. sort of how i feel everyday in this box. j/k! no really. i had a list today and i checked everything off! yay!

I LOVE YOU BIYATCH!!!!!

2008-06-27T09:27:00.007-04:00

so I did the Amanda Knox shoot last night and it wasn't so bad! no - i didn't wear a bikini, but i did sport some red underwear with the word 'killer' emblazoned on the backside. it was a great excuse to scream 'you biyatch, i love you!!!!!' and 'you're a whore! i'm a whore!' and slurp beer and pretend to smoke a cigarette (scandalous!) and lick an attractive man's face (thanks for the stubble exfoliant Matt. your biceps ain't too shabby either!! hummmmmmina hummmmmina ladies!).

and you know what, hey! i'm getting pretty good at this shooting on camera thing! and i'm getting pretty good at giving 100% as the shocked (in a good way) intern phrased it. and i'm ALREADY pretty good at letting loose and not having any hang-ups like spewing certain dairy items out of my mouth - because that can be DISGUSTING and FUNNY! i can't wait to see the pictures (which i will post here, no doubt, in all their gross glory). it was a good time. though, it occurred to me while screaming such soubriquets as the aforementioned, i might be insane. seriously, who does this shit?

ME! YOU BIYATCH!!!

The Blog According to Martha

2008-06-26T13:24:00.006-04:00

I was on BWE blog and came accross this gem of blog instruction by no less than the queen of perfection herself Martha Stewart:

– A true blog is written when you’re inspired, and it doesn’t have to happen every day.

Eh... shut it Madge.

I got nothin'. That's it.

Later today i'm supposed to go over to BarelyPolitical.com and shoot a spoof on the obscure case in Italy of that American chic Amanda Marie Knox whose been held on suspicion of killing her roommate since November. No proof though, so - not quite sure how they can still be holding her. Apparently she said she thought the only reason they were making a story about her was because she's not ugly. i'm not sure what i'm getting myself into and sometimes i wish that i were more picky about what projects i agree to be a part of. i got an email asking if i could bring a bikini last night. um...no. no i cannot. at least i know where to draw the line on pimping myself out... barely. o sweet baby jesus. hope it's at least a little funny. though i don't know. i haven't even seen a script and i'm supposed to go down at 3pm today. HA! whatever... at least i'll get out of this godforsaken death box for a few hours.

a note on tolerance - and fakin' it till you makin' it

2008-06-16T16:04:00.007-04:00

i have this thing where i need to not disappoint people - and let me tell you... it is such a BUMMER. up to this point in my daily dealings, i haven't really noticed what a ten-ton weight this is around my neck. but as i creep closer and closer to achieving my goals (in spite of having the unsuppressible thought to shout 'I WAS JUST THINKING OF A STINKING PILE OF SHIT! THOUGHT I'D SHARE!' at a national callback) and i have less time, or tolerance for things i'm not - shall we say that passionate about, i am more aware than ever of it. people can be resentful if you don't treat them and their dealings as though it's top priority to you. at least, i find this to be so. especially at my corporate world temp job where they have me sitting in a box writing form letters and filing. it might be different if i didn't get a slight feeling they might be androids as they ask me about my weekend - or 'how's that acting career going? no broadway yet?' at least i got flowers jammed in a vase filled with styrofoam shavings for assistants day. i'm serious.

but here's the awesome thing. i get to go home to a great cat and a wonderful boyfriend. i have some really awesome friends who i love so much i could squish their brains out (there's that part of me that belongs in a sanitarium! aw you guys love it, right?!) and i'm gonna get the eff outta here one day - i'm gonna get up, get out and DO IT!

and if i can't quite believe the above, i'll remember as my good friend Chris Cuttler is fond of saying: 'fake it, 'til ya make it.'

Open the Box

2008-06-05T16:48:00.003-04:00

It's way past time for a new blog post. I have been remiss. It takes practice to post blogs. Sometimes - I get so caught up in what I should write about that I just don't write. And that's just silly.

I practiced the violin for 11 years then quit when I was fourteen because I was too busy pretending to smoke on my back porch and crying over beautiful boys. I still have my violin though and I pull it out every now and then for a tune. However, the last few months I've had this crippling fear of opening the case and finding my instrument smithered to dust. It's amazing what fear does to you. Well - fear and years and years of perfectionism drilled into my head by a 'no bullshit' violin teacher and my mother.

Last night, I creaked the cover open to find...a perfectly intact friend glossed burnished amber with fat curves and a long slender neck. I put her under my chin and she was almost perfectly in tune. It was not easy. I haven't played for a long time. But it was really nice to feel those strings hum again and know I'm the one making them sing. I remembered that I can be connected again to my music anytime at all. Just have to open that box.

MASCARA MOUNTAIN

2008-05-21T11:27:00.006-04:00

Here's something I'm super, super proud of. I made it with the amazing Adira Amram, Sara Schaefer, Katina Corrao, and Becky Yamamoto. Sara directed it and was the brains behind a lot of the funny moments. Andy Stuckey (Stuckey & Murray) shot most of it, and there are some hilarious cameos by Matt McCarthy, Brandy Barber, Jon Friedman, Bram Muller, John F. O'Donnell, Dan Allen, and Billy Wood. Tony Carnevale did the silky smooth with a peppering of husky voice-over. Thanks also to Lora Lee, Adira's mom, for opening her home to us and feeding us delicious foods!! Please vote (funny!) and pass it on to some chums if you like it.

unremarkable

2008-05-09T12:00:00.005-04:00

i've been tagged by Eliza, so now i have to list 6 unremarkable quirks about myself. i've been avoiding this precisely because of what Eliza sites in her post about quirks being inherently remarkable. and also i'm lazy.

so, these are my 6 unremarkable quirks:

1. when I attend a movie, i cast myself in that movie and participate as such, much to the chagrin of Warren and probably all audience members. whether it's to cheer a character on: (literally, while clapping hands) 'YAY!!!!!' or lend moral support: "oh, honey". or fiercely admonish: "you bastard!". maybe i wasn't cast in your little movie, but i feel that shit.

2. i cry when i leave my mom. this habit began as a child upon leaving my grandmama's house. i would actually take a kleenex tissue and wave it to her, sobbing as we left. much to my embarrassment, and i sometimes think to my mother's as well (though she would never admit it)i have resumed this tradition after most visits home. sans tissue this time though. baby steps.

3. ever since i discovered the term 'chicago smile' and what it pertains to (i think it was a scene in Miller's Crossing) - i will look at a curb and imagine the violent scene and cringe as if in pain, while holding my mouth.

4. i tend to hold grudges. sometimes i remember an exchange from years ago and play out the scene the way i wish it would have gone. what's really sort of disappointing is that even in my fantasy dialogue, i end up feeling like a schmuck. perhaps that's sort of a given when you enact a scene between yourself and yourself to the mirror in your bedroom, alone, in your underwear, with dirty pits.

5. do past quirks count? i am counting this one even though I DON'T DO THIS ANYMORE. - when i was little and took ballet classes, i used to love to come home, go into my room, take of my slippers, put the inside to my nose, and inhale deeply. then i would sit indian style and smell my crotch (leotard still on folks don't be gross).

6. i pick up pennies, make wishes on eyelashes and birthday candles and get too excited when i see a wishing well.

Tag you're it!

Jen MacNeil

Jenny Rubin

Sara Schaefer

Carolyn Castiglia

Brandy Barber

Mindy Raf

The rules are as follows:

* Link the person who tagged you
* Mention the rules in your blog
* Tell about six unspectacular quirks of yours
* Tag six following bloggers by linking them
* Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged

and we're back

2008-05-07T21:02:00.015-04:00

back from iowa. i woke up every morning to a symphony of birds outside my window. there were layers and layers of their pretty birdie songs. i could have been snow white. except they'd probably peck my eyes out.

it was good to get out of the city and see some family that i hardly get to see anymore. i often caught myself wondering why that was. logically i know that all of us fell into certain routines of distance after my parents split. i have to say all of us because even though it started with the grown ups, the kids eventually followed suit. you can live in the same small city and never see each other (unfortunately with little question on my part). it was so good to see them. my blood. my ties that bind. they are all part of my story and i'm part of theirs. my younger cousin who i've always shared a kindred spirit with is a grown man now with a beautiful family... but i will always see him as a little boy with big brown eyes full of life and spirit and joy. that's a gift. so fuck routines of distance. our time here on earth is too short to waste being oblivious to how lucky we are to be thrown here together, a family.

my heartland

2008-05-03T22:09:00.004-04:00

i'm leavin' on a jet plane for iowa tomorrow morning. bright. and early. specifically, i'm going to iowa city, the town i was born and raised in. it is my town. even though my parents don't live there anymore. they say you can't go home again. i find this to be true. home is a time and a place and times and places change. so home changes. so you can't go home again - at least to the same home.

i woke up this morning and the first thought in my head, i kid you not, was of Ashton Kutcher. Mr. Kutcher grew up not far from my town. one of the small farming communities (does anyone really farm anymore? maybe in iowa, though i think it's probably all corporate now). anyway, yes, the first thought in my head was of this beautiful man from iowa. then i thought that he is around my age or younger than me. then i thought of him sleeping in bed with his older wife. i wonder if she is beautiful in the morning? maybe her age shows, but he finds her beautiful anyway. ah no - she's had work done - she's probably high and tight y'all. i wonder if they have a wild sex life? i bet. then i thought: though he's not very talented, he's a smart business minded man (engineering major) who is producing a lot of television shows and other stuff. and then i thought 'i wish i had a head for business and a bod for sin.' then i marveled at how he is way, way up in the stratosphere and i'm still hacking away. then i got anxious about going back to the land of corn and cattle and good men and women. and now it's 10:17 pm and i'm still packing. the mind is a funny thing. and it can make you feel like you are going crazy.

here's the thing. i'm where i'm at. perhaps i'm not comfortable right this moment. but who says everything has to be perfect? letting things hit you in the center of your heart. breathing deeply and holding on to the truth of this millisecond, even if it's a truth you want to reject. that's the real deal folks. i'm trying to remember that. i'm trying to remember that just because i might not be hitting all the marks i've idealized in my head, it doesn't mean i'm not progressing (at a snail's pace - just kidding!) . and you know what? that DOES count for something. also, it helps me not want to vomit up my soul.

Woman at a Bathroom Mirror

2008-04-24T09:07:00.007-04:00

A WOMAN STANDS AT THE BATHROOM MIRROR OF A RESTAURANT. SHE'S REALLY LOOKING AT HERSELF CAREFULLY.
SOMEONE WALKS IN THE DOOR. SHE LOOKS. IT TAKES A MOMENT TO REGISTER.

WOMAN
Hannah? Oh my gosh!

HANNAH
Oh my god Kate, hi!

KATE
Hi!

HANNAH
HI!

KATE
Wow. So good to see you! It's been what, 10 years?

HANNAH
Yeah - something like that, yeah.

KATE
Well, so your'e in L.A.?

HANNAH
Acting! I'm actually still acting.

KATE
You're still acting?! That's great! Good for you!
So - what do you - do you work here?

HANNAH
Yeah, I'm actually just about to start my shift.

KATE
Oh.
Hey! - If we'd gotten here a little later you could have been OUR waitress!

HANNAH
Yeah.
Hey, congratulations!

KATE
Oh well, thanks! Yeah. Best actress - I guess they really like me, huh?!
So you're still acting and stuff. That's great! What have you done?

HANNAH
Well, you know - i just moved here so... I'm still trying to get my foot in the door!

KATE
Oh.
Well, that's great!

HANNAH
Well, you've done really great for yourself!

KATE
Well, thanks. Yeah. I'm actually discussing a potential project right now - so... should get back.

HANNAH
Oh yeah. Of course.

KATE
Well it was really great seeing you!

HANNAH
Kate. I have something to say to you.

KATE
Oh, okay.

HANNAH
Why did you never come to meet me that day?

KATE
What day? I'm sorry - I don't think i remember -

HANNAH
I think you do.

KATE
BEAT
Okay Hannah. Sorry. I'm sorry.
Are we good? I'm really sorry.

HANNAH
You didn't have to do that.

KATE
Hannah. I am sorry about that. I really am. I don't know. I just. I forgot okay?

HANNAH
You forgot. Okay.

KATE
Yeah.
BEAT
I was really busy. I had a lot going on. I just forgot. I didn't mean to be deliberately -
BEAT
I was maybe a little jealous of you -

HANNAH
Of ME?

KATE
- and I guess that was how it manifested itself... so...

HANNAH
Well, it was mean.

KATE
I'm sorry. I do remember. And it was mean, okay? Are we okay here?

HANNAH
STARTS TO CRY

KATE
Oh God. You're crying over a coffee date i missed 10 years ago?

HANNAH
STILL CRYING - I'm not crying about THAT!

KATE
Well, what then?

HANNAH
I just...
It's just....

KATE
WAITING, UNCOMFORTABLE

HANNAH
STILL CRYING It's not fair! I work so, so hard! You were so cold!

KATE
Okay. Whatever.

Maybe I was mean - but...

Okay, I was mean... okay?
I think I admitted that already - but
Please stop crying.
You just have to be stronger. You know? Just be strong.

(trying to make her laugh) - You're SO sensitive!

(that didn't work) I'm sorry you're sad. I really am.

(doesn't know what to do with herself, very uncomfortable)

I'm glad you're still - you know - acting. I always thought you were really good.

HANNAH
You did?

KATE
Yeah.
BEAT
Everyone has a different path.
BEAT
So - I've really got to go -

GOES IN FOR A TENTATIVE HUG

HANNAH POINTS TO THE OSCAR SHE'S LEFT ON THE VANITY.

HANNAH
Don't forget your Oscar.

KATE
Oh. Yeah. Thanks.
Bye.

For ES

2008-04-22T16:49:00.002-04:00

Well - today was today and yesterday was yesterday. It's good to have friends who speak up about stuff and let you know honestly what they think in a helpful constructive way. i'm stoked about that. i could even say it's awesome. also - i had an audition today that was not all bad. the waiting room was filled with babies - i don't mean young children, i mean babies - the little dumpling kind you want to 'hold them and squeeze them and call the George'(well - maybe not the best reference - but you know what i mean). so even though i didn't know that i would be waiting in a metaphorical play-pen for my audition - for over an hour - i got to meet Hugo - a perpetually happy, well adjusted young gent of one year who had cheeks you want to eat and a smile to make you all googley. and i got to hold his little dumpling self on my lap and pat him on his tummy.

point break

2008-04-21T12:30:00.009-04:00

i'm guessing that the constant feeling of approaching tears would mean that i'm at my breaking point today. what brought it on? probably a culmination of several things. we will have to exterminate for bed bugs again. after we thought it was all over. i wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy (except maybe Mrs. Beatty, my high school band teacher/pinch-hit muscal director and bitch on wheels). it is such an upheaval. they are evil, evil pests that seem designed for immortality. seriously of the devil. i'm at such a loss i can't even express how disappointing and discouraging it all is. the whole thing is the biggest strain. it is taxing on the pair of us.

i just got back from an audition. there was a girl going on and on about her upcoming trip to Africa and how she's been learning Swahili and how to make corn cakes or whatever. so annoyingly progressive. i just wanted to white her out. but she was permanent marker. then she goes on about how many commercials she's been in and how she needs a better agent because it's really 'time'and blah blah blah. puhleese lady.

i was so nervous in the audition my butt started to shake. and when they asked me to smile - my lips started to quiver. and all for a toothbrush commercial. the inanity of this is not lost on me. i don't know what to do about it. 'is this really where i'm at right now? is this my life?' keeps revolving in my head. of course the answer is - 'well yeah. it is. but it won't be this way forever' it's that last part i have trouble believing. i can't quite understand how i can be so silly as to put so much stock in these little things. but i do. and how.

i'm in the office. slowly draining. i am so tired i'm stupid. i wish i could just walk away from it. i wish i could just go work on my show today. my show that i feel will never materialize. the bullshit in my head right now is breaking my heart.

for reals

2008-04-17T13:23:00.010-04:00

First of all, did you know that this exists?

Thank God. It's called kitty wigs and obviously every cat should have one.

Second. It's P-dog time. That's not jive talk. That's lady talk for the deep, slow ache in my abdomen and thighs. It's letting me know that I am a woman (excuse me gents, but i'm being for reals here)

Being a woman is great. You can wear long hair and make-up. But once you reach a certain stage (*a.k.a. age), you start to worry that one day soon your womb will be barren and recede into you like dry fruit. I read this article today. I was like - WOW lady. somebody's wearing smart pants. And it's not me! Every time the fear of time encroaching on my slowly dying eggs overtakes me, i find something to do that will make me feel like a kid again: like drinking irresponsibly (not really mom, i'm just being spicy! and when i do drink irresponsibly it's always with a cab home and a much more sober friend to accompany me. love you!) - eating ice cream in stinky lounge-wear or watching Tudors for four hours straight. It's not helpful. And i know this. But see, here's the thing:

a)i believe that i have to 'make it' for myself before i have a child, otherwise i will just shovel all of my resentment and disappointment onto them for having given up my career and force them to wear ensembles of my choosing (a lot of pastels, corduroy and itchy cableknit tights (boys can wear them too) designed to slowly chip away at my child's self respect). and i will have to give up my career ambitions for her/him. because i do not have my shit together enough and I'm not as smart as some ladies i know who are doing both- and are making it work!

b) i'm poor as shit and my b.friend is too

c) what if i drop it?

that said. i really want this whole career thing sorted out. and i am working hard to do that. but i do wake up in the morning occasionally with the panicky thoughts of

what if this doesn't happen? what if it doesn't fall into place? and what if i do drop it?

i won't drop it. i know that. but i am scared of all of that. for reals.

string cheese blues

2008-04-15T15:44:00.005-04:00

you ever feel like string cheese? string cheese is the worst cheese. i used to like it when i was a kid though, and mainly - i think - because you could peel it. same thing with magic shell. that was fucking awesome. AND MAGIC. you could take your spoon and thwok it - it really WAS a shell! and I LIKED the taste - although my adult taste buds would disagree now. maybe not though. maybe i would still like that overly sugary, additive and preservative laden taste. hmmm.

i'm doing drink at work tonight. a little sketch my friend Bryan Olsen and i worked out where I play a deranged wife to his completely hapless and clueless husband. it's sick. i love working with Bryan because he's so talented and he plays the naive mid westerner so well. probably because he was one. i might know a little bit about that too.

DRINK AT WORK
9pm at COMIX (Ochi's Lounge downstairs)
353 W. 14th St. at 9th Ave.

jump/shout/giggle

2008-04-14T09:41:00.004-04:00

monday morning blues. after a kick-ass shoot in the mountains upstate with some of the funniest women i know, i'm back down in the city. you know that feeling you get when you're a kid and it's your birthday? you wait by the window for the first car to pull up and when it finally does you do a jump/shout/giggle dance? that was what the whole weekend was like. it was a long, sweet, prolonged jump/shout/giggle dance with an amazing italian mama who stuffs you with the most yummy food while you are surrounded by good friends - working hard and laughing and loving and eating and drinking the whole way through.

more please.

the core of it

2008-04-11T13:22:00.005-04:00

going upstate to Adira's to shoot Mascara Mountain tonight - a spoof on such shows as Lipstick Jungle and the like. i think we are going to be a chilly group as the weather forecast is predicting little sun and rain clouds. hope to get some good footage out of it though. i'm excited to see what we can come up with.

i've been churning the idea for a new show in my brain. and even though it's been slightly torturous, it's so uplifting that all these friends who have their own artistic endeavors (Jon, Sara!) offer their aid and attention to me. i met with the generous and very talented Ms. Eliza Skinner last night to talk about plotting out the show. it's been slow going and i feel a bit like molasses. but she really helped me to think things out and we spoke about a core or spine for the show (awesome!). it was really cool. it really helped to talk outside of my own head and that Eliza has good ideas - she's so smart!

what came up for me - and what i ruminate on weekly if not daily - is the division i feel inside of wanting to reach my dream to be a successful working actor while at the same time feeling the encroachment of time and not wanting to loose out on the dream to one day be a mommy, and have a family to call my own. it's possible that this inner contest was lit anew when i went to the GYNO the other day (lovingly illustrated in the post below). it occured to me that this division sort of mirrors a public me and a private me and then Eliza said - it would be interesting to see that in the show with your characters! and then i said oooh yeah!

it was a good meeting. and then i came home and watched Dame Helen Mirren on Charlie Rose (i am becoming a yuppy) saying that the best performers bring themselves to a role but how that's very hard for actors because we are always comparing ourselves to other actors. and i thought 'shit - even Ms. Helen Mirren does that!. awesome. now I just need to get me a movie deal and an illustrious career to soothe the sting of my bouts of actor on actor jealousy.

35. Set Your Cap

2008-04-10T12:35:00.008-04:00

ANN ON HER BACK. FEET UP IN STIRRUPS.

GYN
SO! You married?

AC
Oh, no. This isn't a wedding ring!

GYN
(big smile) Oh! So, what is it then?

AC
Just a ring.

GYN
Oh! So you and your boyfriend - not married.

AC
No. We live together.

GYN
(look of disapproval) Oh. Oh, so you will never get married.

AC
No. It's just. Well, we both come from divorced families so we're both sceptical of marriage. I don't want a wedding in City Hall...

GYN
Oh yes, City Hall. I see.

AC
But we probably have a common law marriage by now.

GYN
What's that - the common law marriage?

AC
Oh - it's. Well, when you live with someone long enough that the law considers you married.

GYN
Oh, well.
So, he won't marry you.

AC
No - he's - we're both just not ready...maybe we're afraid to commit. And we don't have enough money. I'm an actor, so...

GYN
Oh! You do the acting!

AC
Yes, I do that.

GYN
Yes, I can tell. You have a very changing face.

AC
Oh, thanks!

GYN
Yes. Your face is decent.

AC
Oh... thanks.

GYN
So, where do I see you?!

AC
Oh, well... I don't have anything on TV right now , but I'm working on it!

GYN
Oh

AC
I audition for commercials.

GYN
Oh! What channel?!

AC
Oh, well... I haven't made one yet, but I audition a lot for them.

GYN
(disappointed) Oh.

AC
You know Philadelphia Cheese?

GYN
What's this?

AC
They make cream cheese?

GYN
Yes! I know it!

AC
I had an audition for them.

GYN
When can I see it!

AC
Well, I didn't get it.

GYN
Oh. Well, what was it for?

AC
Oh it was kind of gross. They were these bagels with cream cheese that you heat up in the microwave.

GYN
Oh, I love this! You never had that before?!

AC
No, I don't think it sounds good.

GYN
(appalled) WELL! But how can you sell a product you never even tried?!

AC
Um....I'm an actor.

GYN
It's very good! You should try! I have it every morning. Just 30 second in the microwave. Good stuff!
(starts with the pap smear)
So, You want babies?

AC
Well, I guess it's been on my mind.

GYN
35 cut-off.

AC
What?

GYN
Yep. 35 set your cap.

AC
Oh...really?

GYN
Yes! You think you just get pregnant like that? You just stop the birth control and all a sudden you get pregnant?!

AC
I don't know

GYN
Everyone thinks - 'Oh, I'll just get pregnant!' It takes TIME! It's not like you just go and say 'oh, i want a baby! one baby, please!' It takes a lot of - you know...

AC
You mean you have to have a plan?

GYN
35. Set your cap.

AC
But isn't that sort of arbitrary?

GYN
Eggs not arbitrary.

AC
[SILENCE]

GYN
Okay! Finish!

AC
Okay. Thanks

GYN
You should try the bagel that way! So good! You might like it!

remembrance

2008-04-08T09:31:00.007-04:00

this morning's walk to the train, i looked at my feet. i like my black converse. they are classic. they are a versitle fashion component, like pearls. you can wear them for fun, or to give a kicky look to an evening gown!

my grandma binford wore white keds around the house. she would cut holes out of them for her bunions. they sat on a boot mat next to the fancy (i thought) double door fridge which always held an Andre's Whipped Cream Torte in honor of my visit (that whipped cream torte is heaven in your mouth). she was a fashionable lady and worked in advertising all her adult life while raising two girls by her own hand (and the hand of a nanny). she wore beautiful high heels that killed her long, narrow feet. her laugh was a warm cackle coming deep from her heart. the house was old and was all about my grandma. it was a person-house to me. two large windows on the top floor and two directly beneath and the front door an ample mouth with a porch affixed and stairs rolling out like it's tongue. it's the kind of house you don't see anymore: large but modest with a huge yard and a very old oak(?) spreading out over the green. the vintage wallpapering in the kitchen - little pots and pans and spoons. the gentle give of the sturdy wood floor in the kitchen. the perfume of floor wax and vanilla and pecans. like a whole home hugging you.

i have difficulty remembering her voice, her expressions. except her laugh. i can still hear that.

The Weekend Observer

2008-04-07T09:42:00.008-04:00

Oh lady grey day. Go away.
I'm going to try something. I'm going to pretend that my office job is really my very own office where i can write and create things and not be pressed into a human version of a dried flower. It's part of my movable writing feast and I won't surf the internet when i have free-time.
I.
WILL.
WRITE!

Well, maybe I can surf the internet once in a while.
We'll see how it goes. Having faith is important.

I went to a comedy show last night to benefit the fight against cancer. I largely went to support my friend Katina, because the benefit was in the name of her young friend Dottie who had 5 children when she succomed to cancer this past year. Sort of hard to get your head around that. Everyone involved was tops.

It's interesting when you are just the observer and not a performer. I haven't done much observing in a while. The performer in you feels a bit out of sorts and uncomfortable. It's sort of like walking into a room to grab something and forgetting what it was. You're just confused. You're looking at the wall like it holds some kind of answer as to what you should be doing. But then you begin to look at the room around you and you still can't remember what the hell it was you needed but you find something else that you forgot you needed. But that other thing you need is still nagging at you in the back of your mind. There were some other things i observed in my brain, but I will save you from them and reserve them for my therapist.

There was another instance this weekend in which I was the observer. Saturday morning was the morning I had said 'okay Annie - no more pussy-footin' around - today is the day to knock out a real clear format for your next show! you can do it!' Just a 10 minute walk from my grey neighborhood is a rainbow colored neighborhood called Jackson Heights that houses the Espresso 77 Cafe on the corner of 77th Street and 37th Avenue. Lovely little nook. Bright orange walls and Sweedish inspired furnishings. LOVE that place. I was set. I had my paper and i had my pen and i had some of the show typed out already. But then I realized that these two hippy grandmas next to me were not shutting up. In fact, they were quite overbearing, interesting and FUNNY.

Oh my God.

What?

I went to Don's memorial last weekend. You remember - Jean and Gerry were in the band with him?

Oh sure.

Well. I mean. Teresa, I mean, she was so in love with him. She said to me. I just always wanted to be around him. We just liked eachother.

Oh Geez.

Yeah. They had this video that like - a professional film guy and a professional photographer did. Not a dry eye in the house. Not a dry eye.

Oh my God.

I know! I mean, that's the way to do it.

Oh wow.

I know. So how's Jennifer?

She's GREAT!

Yeah?

She met someone.

She DID?! WHO?! Tell me EVERYTHING!

Well, they met on E-Harmony. I LOVE him.

Yeah?!

I love him to BITS! If I could get him to propose to her tomorrow I would. He is SO GREAT! And Jennifer was like the last one that he tried out. He had just had it and he wasn't meeting anyone, you know, he was interested in and she was the last one!

OH MY GOD. What's he look like?!

Well, he's Jewish and Irish, a mix. And he is just the nicest guy just such a great personality.

Uh huh?

And - warm eyes, you know.

Mmm-hmm?

SO NICE. He's not really good looking but he's not unattractive either.

Well, THAT'S GREAT! GOOD FOR HER!

I KNOW! Thank God. As long as she's happy. I was so worried.

Well, and he's NICE.

Yeah. He is SO NICE.

That's Great.

Yeah.

walk to the train

2008-03-28T09:36:00.003-04:00

observations on my way to the train this morning:

a tough looking guy dressed in black, smoking a cigarette, walking alongside his tiny grandmother, holding her hand.

a bright, lavender velour sweat-suit.

a beautiful young man with a mole on his bottom lip, completely confounded by the MTA vending machine. i wanted to help, but i was running late for work and fled the scene.

I AM WOMAN. THIS IS DANCE.

2008-03-27T13:59:00.003-04:00

She comes on stage dragging a chair with her, sizing the audience up. Gets up on chair, back to audience and clenches her butt. Does one 'modern dance' gesture. sits.

Oh, Hello it's me. Laurel Fields. International Modern Dancer. Good evening and thank you for joining me tonight and participating this taping of my documentary film: LAUREL FIELDS: I AM WOMAN. THIS IS DANCE.

You know, sometimes, I think to myself: 'Yes, I am a DANCER. But I am also a WOMAN. I'm a dancer, but i'm a woman. I'm a woman, i'm a dancer (back and forth back and forth) - I'm BOTH! You know?

(laughing) Everyone thinks my life is so glamorous because I'm a dancer!

It's not. It's grit and it's sweat and it's dirt, you know? Dance is my greazy pusher man, and I'm his strung-out junkie, jonesing for my next fix. And I don't know what that's going to be, you know? Perhaps it's a yellowed piece of newsprint or a faded photograph. Maybe it's an old wooden block a child used to amuse himself with in the nineteen-forty-thr-tw-sevens. Or maybe it's a an empty bottle rolling down a lonely subway car finally coming to rest in a partly congealed pool of...vomit. I don't know. It's not NICE. Art isn't nice, you know? I'm not here to be NICE to you, you know? And so I take these things and put it in my basket. And then I make a dance. You want to try? (She smirks) Go ahead – get a basket –make a dance.

Any questions? This is the part in my documentary where I’m totally honest and serious – go ahead and ask a question, any question at all and I will answer it in a very serious documentarian fashion.

Fields a couple of questions.

That was fun. Now, let me ask you a question. Are you aware that you are dancing right now? Yes you are sitting. But you

are also dancing. (She sits). (Singing) Hello. I am dancing. I am sitting and i'm danciiiinggg-aaaaahhhh! Sort of just changed your life right now, didn't i?

You know, when I'm not touring the world, I occasionally work as a temporary assistant, here, at Pfizer.

You know – I’m just reminded of a day several weeks ago while I was at Pfizer making copies at the copy machine when Blake the assistant to the Human Resources Manager approached me saying: 'What is up?' (Laughing) What is up?! What is up?! (Seriously) And I said to him, I said:

'Blake, we are alive and living in this moment. And he said: ‘Well, you creative types! I just have to get some uh paper’--

I love you. I love this. I love this moment we are having. We are alive and living in this moment, and we are having it. FEEL that, Blake.'

THIS IS DANCE (walks dancer walk downstage center, pose)

THIS IS DANCE (pours imaginary tea, enjoys it)

THIS IS DANCE (pushing baby carriage, cooing to baby, picks baby up, pats baby, sings to baby, pushes baby away)

THIS IS DANCE (she's walking chatting with a friend) - 'HI BOBBY! IT'S ME! MARGRET!'

THIS IS DANCE (from upstage ctr. Walks downstage center, mouths the words 'I love you', French air kiss)

THAT'S DANCE.

Mi Piacere!

2008-03-26T16:50:00.002-04:00

It's the first day that's really acting like spring. I had an audition today for a commercial that shoots in Milan (please God, please, please, please). Ever since i got that national call-back, my heart beats like a rabbit when i audition. Not sure why. Maybe i need to cut back on caffeine. Maybe i need to meditate. Maybe i need new shoes.

When I came back to the office I had a presumptive letter from the boss lady. Needless to say, she presumed wrong. Assumptions and presumptions are the evil twins of ill communication. I dislike it. Tit willow, tit willow. I don't make no sense! You ever get the feeling you are sleepwalking through life? I'm not depressed, i just feel like molasses lately.

Step Up

2008-03-19T09:36:00.006-04:00

i did a show last night. i was Laurel Fields, international modern dancer. it was a so, so crowd. i got the feeling that a big group in the front were there to see their friends. that's cool. because i was loving Laurel last night. i do love what i do. i love what i can create. i do not love getting caught up in the 'business' of it though. because when i do, i have a nasty habit of comparing myself with others who i deem more successful or with it or quirky or you know - whatever. i guess that is the stone i'm stumbling over these days. with every success, or every step closer to success - comes the weight of realizing that this cycle repeats itself as long as you are in the game. and i'm in it. because what else am i going to do with my life? the next thing and the next and the next are bigger - more important than where you are or where you have been. and that's exciting isn't it? but it's also a bit of 'fuck. i have so far to go.'

i draw inspiration and a sense of stepping up from my friends. most of my friends are ladies who also desire to do and accomplish the same thing i do (become insanely rich and famous, drive around in a gold plated Lexus and just nod at people instead of saying hello, because we are all wanna-be gangsters hidden in the bodies of saucy New York comedian/actor/performer ladies). We're sort of like a 'Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants', except not. because we're all 25 or well over and slightly jaded and we can afford to buy our own jeans from H&M.

so - yeah - i'm not alone, is basically what i'm trying to say. and i know that if i'm comparing myself - i'm human. i might have a tendency to do it more often than most - but maybe not. in fact most probably not. because i have a reference point. i have a flock of birds to fly with. i have wind beneath my wings and then some. i have a hurricane of wind beneath my wings. and i can be that wind for someone else's wings! we are the world! we are the children!

okay - but seriously folks. aren't friends awesome?

and another thing. each stumble is part of the path.

and one more thing. i don't know why i am doing what i'm doing. but i love what i'm doing and i want other people to feel that love too. i sort of want to fuck everyone collectively through performance. that is not my final answer but that is finally my answer for right now.

nice to meet you. you smell.

2008-03-18T09:28:00.006-04:00

sitting at the office desk with my current favorite breakfast: oatmeal with fruit and overpriced Star Fucks coffee. yesterday was a toughie. i had my first experience at a national callback. ummm... i was REALLY, REALLY nervous. i felt like one of those androids who has been fucked with by a nasty human who opens them up and rips out all their wiring. it was really odd. on the way down i said all these self-sabotaging things. which - honestly i was not surprised. disappointed - but not surprised. even though it's been a while since i've gone the charming self-depricating (read self-torture) route - i'm familiar with it's sneaky way of lurking and skurking under the surface until just the right moment arrives (a.k.a. an event in which something at stake which i really care about). so - i try to get ahold of myself on the train ride down by talking about all the good things like - 'hey- that video i worked on with Becky yesterday was fun!' and 'i love the beach. i am pretending i am walking on the beach and everything is beautiful and peaceful and calm...OH MY GOD A SHARK!!!! A SHARK HAS LEAPT FROM THE SEA AND IS NOW RUNNING TOWARDS ME! (bloody mess ensues with much mangling and strewn body parts and such)

so - anyway - i arrive. and then i realize that - it's kind of okay. there are other people there and they are probably somewhat nervous (probably no-where as nervous as me) and i just have to go in and talk and not say something wildly inappropriate like 'nice to meet you, you smell.'

i felt okay. i read. they asked me to stay and read with another girl who was soon to arrive. so i was thinking 'hey - that's not bad, right? okay - hey i am HANDLING this - and it sort of looks good - i'm still a nervous wreck but i'm a more comfortable nervous wreck."

but wait. because this girl comes in who looks like Zooey Deschanel - adorable and quirky with just a peppering of sexy. and they are all over her - they LOVE her. if she were a stuffed animal they would be curled in the fetal position, legs and arms tangled, squeezing the stuffing out of her. 'WE LOVED WHAT YOU DID LAST TIME!!! DO IT AGAIN!!!!' (she takes a bite of a muffin) 'AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!! HILARIOUS!!!!'

so - what did i take away from that experience? i'm a bloody wreck on a national call-back - i have confidence issues and i often wonder what it would be like to be an adorable brunette with big brown eyes and a sweet voice with a hint of smokiness to it.

sort of where i'm at right now. oh and my boss is passive aggressive and has trust issues. other than that it's lookin' good.

i need a vacation.

gloved life of SLEAZE

2008-03-13T14:46:00.006-04:00

in all of this Spitzer hullabaloo, this was something reported that actually made me smile:

'HOOKER BOOKER FAMILY CAN'T UNDERSTAND HONOR STUDENT'S FALL INTO A LIFE OF SLEAZE':
Tameka Lewis' tragic fall into a life of sleaze has left her family heartbroken. "Her mother is just all broken up," Lewis' 79-year old uncle said..."She's just too clean" said the uncle. "Even when she does the dishes, she puts on gloves. It just don't make any sense." - NY Daily News

I, as well, am shocked to hear it. A woman, who takes enough care to wear kitchen gloves while engaged in washing the dishes could be so wreckless as to be a 'hooker booker'! I don't know if I will ever be able to belive that a kitchen-gloved woman is really, truly clean, ever - a - gain. 'It just don't make any sense.'

hillary

2008-03-05T09:02:00.005-05:00

do people honestly think for a second that Hillary has any chance over McCain? they threw the kitchen sink and apparently it worked and now it looks like things might get severely fucked up. in spite of all the whining and bitching and fake crying and complaining, it looks like she might actually have a chance at becoming the Democratic candidate. call me pessimistic - but i can already see what's coming. she's fought tooth and nail. she's going to huff and puff her way into this damn thing because she sees it as her destiny or something and we'll be in the same mess we've been in the last eight years because people will come out in droves to vote AGAINST her. which is exactly why someone like Rush Limbaugh urged people to vote for her in Texas. the Republicans will have a field day if she's nominated. don't you get the feeling that she's in it to win it for herself and he's in it to win it for us? there's so much bile and vitriol coming from her campaign. there's so much hope and optimism coming from his. it just seems so clear to me. and it disappoints me that her familiar political tactics worked like a charm. so predictable. how is she going to define herself against McCain? they BOTH voted for the war. they're BOTH political gamers spewing the same uninspired, stiff mouthed, over-rehearsed, completely cut-off from the heart B.S. that we've heard from these people all our lives.

i could take a lesson from Obama in optimism:
"When the dust settles from today's contests, we will maintain our substantial lead in delegates. And thanks to millions of people standing for change, we will keep adding delegates and capture the Democratic nomination.
We knew from the day we began this journey that the road would be long. And we knew what we were up against."

trunk vs. twig

2008-03-04T09:00:00.005-05:00

woke up angry with the world this morning. wrong side of the bed as they say. bags are still everywhere. boyfriend's gone a bit fanatic - but i can't blame him for the evangelical approach to our second bedbug visit.

i was meditating and i started crying. is that supposed to happen? i don't know. but whenever i cry and i can't put a finger on why, i feel like an emotional basket case. basically i was feeling sorry for myself. 'why can't someone help me?!! why can't someone give me a leg up?!! i am talented!!!!! whahhhaaaaaaaa!!!!!!'

wonderful way to start the day. i highly recommend a victim-fest before you are about to embark upon a city subway ride to a cardboard cut-out office with vacuum attachment designed to suck out your soul. s-l-o-w-l-y.

also, ladies can be bitches. also, ladies can basically be divided into two categories trunks or twigs. on the subway i saw ample space to sit between two twigs. but they were not going to budge even though I made it obvious that i intended to sit down. being more of a twig but a larger twig than they, i pretty much sat on them. then they moved. probably not a good idea to try that move on more ample women or 'trunks' as i call them. so 'trunks': no sitting. 'twigs': sit with a vengeance.

TRUNK VS. TWIG: The Saga Continues....

more cake please

2008-02-28T09:33:00.003-05:00

my thoughts have been so jumbled lately. i've been generating a lot of new ideas and that's cool - sketches and video ideas and such. but always in the back of my head -i want more. i want to work, i want to work, i want to work! and get paid to act! i've been thinking a lot about this. and i've also been kvetching a lot - which is something i'd really love to eliminate from my life. the funny thing is - i've made more progress the past couple years than all the years i've been in NY. i'd like to just enjoy that fact. but there's a hungry little girl inside that wants more cake. today i'm gonna try and focus on enjoying the cake i already have. it's GOOD CAKE!

Y'ANO

2008-02-22T16:48:00.002-05:00

the day began with some clarity. that didn't last long. there are bags all across our living room. bags and bags of clothes and in the kitchen - you're lucky if you can climb over the trajectory of bags - the mountains of bags. we got bugs. we got bugs and the bugs are making us put everything in bags. i hate'em. both. the bugs and the bags. i think i'll go home. crack open a beer. eat the rest of the unbelievably yummy flat noodles with beef, chili and basil that i treated myself to last night and watch some tudors. cause it's not like i haven't been bugging my eyes out on a computer screen all fucking day. OKAY?!!!!

hi guys. it's me. your friend annie. i'm slightly crazed.

Tickity Tock

2008-02-05T16:54:00.001-05:00

Hey! Hey out there! I'm back! I bet your happy to see ME, huh?!
So, yup - it's been awhile. Not much to report on the 'my life is an amazing experience every day of my life. i can't wait to get out of bed in the morning!' scene. Though the book that inspired me to get my blog on is being made into a movie, i noticed. I don't feel very blog worthy these days. I'm miserable in this fucking office. I keep saying i am biding my time until I get a commercial or -a pilot? Oh, ladies and gents...trying to be optimistic takes work. Gotta look on the up and up. I've been working hard though. Got my reel made. I'm calling in favors, i'm really trying to visualize it happening and you know - bit by bit - i have to believe it is. i'm surely further along this year than i have been. i love performing, i love writing, i love the process - and i really, really would love to be paid for it so i don't have to walk into a soul sucking vacum everyday and worry that i'll never have a home, financial freedom, a family. i swear everytime i see a baby these days my womb cries. i saw THE CUTEST BABY EVER the other day and i seriously was pretending in my mind that she was my kid. it also added to my fantasy that she ran up to me and i'm almost possitive i heard her say 'mama'. oh boy. hickory dickory dock y'alls.

connect the dots, la-la-la

2008-01-03T11:08:00.000-05:00

i ventured into the arctic of last night and went to a bar with a friend. said bar is a hot-spot of the alternative comedy scene in new york - especially on wednesday nights. and being a performer of a somewhat comedic bent, i suppose that this stomping ground has a certain pull, a glossy sheen, a je ne sais quoi.

as i've mentioned before, i often feel like the black sheep in my family because of my unconventional life choice to move here to new york and gamble my best years away at being a paid actor/artist/performer/you know. but i also feel a bit sheepish (hey-o!) when it comes to exhibiting social aplomb. my mother could carry on a conversation with a nun during her vows of silence if she wanted to. she is that amazingly adept at the art of exchange. her constant words of advice to me when i voice my insecurities in the arena of social banter are to remember what my southern grandmother (who's expertise at tete-a-tete would have put Oprah to shame) would say which was: 'ask people about themselves because people never tire of talking about themselves.' which is all well and good and sometimes true. but what if that person is really boring? or just thinks there are cooler people to talk to who could do more for their career/social standing/self-esteem? or what if you feel so boring and cold and out of sorts that you put them out of sorts and then you start thinking negative thoughts like - 'y'all are just here to kiss ass'? which is probably somewhat true - but not wholly - and so what? i've done my fair share and will most certainly go on to do it again.

it's networking and i have a love/hate, mostly hate relationship with it. but that is just part and parcel of this business, and really this life.

i've been trying to wrap my little brain around some fairly profound Buddhist philosophy lately. and one of the things it talks about is how we are all inter-connected - that we all effect each other and that our individual actions effect everyone and everything around us.

so i guess when i go to a place like that bar last night - and i get the idea in my head that it's so high-school, and i don't want to play along, and it's just stupid - maybe i embody that and maybe people read that and i feel them reading it.

deep thoughts.

maybe i should just go feel uncomfortable more often. maybe that is 'the secret'.

and then again maybe not.

maybe it's just realizing that life is complex and people - even if i think they are acting so high-school - are too. and that is a good thing.

path of least resistance

2007-12-30T17:52:00.000-05:00

you gotta hand it to vodka folks. specifically a vodka gimlet which is what i have in hand this next to the last day of the year 2007. i get anxious around this time of year. like i should be doing something fun or important. but i never am. i have nothing to do. that's probably why i re-painted the kitchen and re-arranged the furniture from 2:30 pm - 11:00 pm yesterday. i'm a fuckin' champ.

there is no temp work and i'm not engaged in any shows or projects. it's just so quiet. and so, i am inwardly searching (in a frantic, panicked sort of way). i have this uncomfortable sense of longing and for what, i have not a clue. i just know that it's there; inside of me; like a ten ton weight; and i am longing for it. whatever it is.

it's one of those days where i feel like oatmeal.

but there is always Target. i like Target. strike that - I LOVE TARGET. and these past two oatmealy days i have been loving Target quite frequently. i have no money to speak of, but i did have $55 worth of gift certificate to spend any way my heart desired. and i did.

yesterday, i played the role of a (childless) suburban housewife. i'm embarrassingly good at it. up at 8. shower. coffee. oatmeal (ha!) and out the door by at least 10:30 (personally, i was very impressed) to beat the crowd. on the up-escalator a malnourished blonde woman with a pixie hair-cut intoned with passionate feeling: 'I HATE TARGET!' to which her teen-aged daughter replied 'shhhh!' - EXACTLY princess. i know how you feel. i would have been mortified if my mother had uttered those unspeakable words too.

it's amazing what coffee can do for a soul searching boheme with little money except the hot little gift card she holds with a vice-grip in her dry, spackle and paint stained hands. i moved through the bright and beautiful aisles with laser like focus. my energy guided by the divine gods of commerce and the american dream as i calmly negotiated sharp turns and children run astray. i wasn't calm though. i had that coffee coursing through my veins and come hell or high-water I WAS GONNA GET WHAT I WANTED AT MY FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD TARGET!!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

i was going to tell you what i got, but i'll spare you the details because i already feel like a pathetic looser for even writing this post. i know, i know, i'm not a looser. i just feel like one because the only thing that can fill the gaping hole of need i feel is acting on my own behalf and maybe creating something of worth (like working on my show- there's an idea i keep going back to - and avoiding). but for tonight - i'm hitchin' this horse to the path of least resistance (with a side of vegan chocolate cake. i'm not vegan - but i love chocolate and i had the ingredients. i made it tonight... instead of working on my show. and, if i might add, it's fucking delicious).

yep. i'm officially bored. good cake though. ughhh.

going home

2007-12-27T18:29:00.000-05:00

you know what it is about going home? you can't really. at least that's what they say. and i find it to be true. actually - i haven't really had a place i considered home since i was eight - when my original family unit of four lived all together in our pea-green split level at 207 Heritage Drive in North Liberty, IA. with the full-size vegetable garden out back because we really needed it for food. this Christmas, Warren and i packed his '92 Honda Accord, with one intact hub-cap, full of clothes and gifts and headed down to visit my mother and stepfather in their fancy new modern 'green' home in Baltimore. it was raining hard most of the way - but we made it safely in-spite of my often voiced fear that we might hydroplane and smash into a semi and end up head-less.

we had just gotten off the interstate and were about 5 minutes from the 'rents when the car started up with this disturbing rattle/shake - like a stick-shift makes when you haven't got the gear right - except it's not a stick shift.

the new house, as i said, is gorgeous. it's the nicest house my mother has ever owned. well 1/2 owned (also - my inheritance was used to purchase it. she mentioned that to me as a side note after they moved in. 'oh... okay?'). it was just one of those experiences where you realize you may never live this nicely. you are scratching and scraping to make your dreams a reality and it's a total crap shoot. my sister lives 10 minutes away from my mother with two amazing genius children and a sweet natured, intelligent lawyer (an oxymoron, i know) husband. i know they have their struggles too, especially since she is often the main care-taker for the kids, but the more entrenched i become in my non-conventional path - the more i feel a disconnect with my family and this can make 'going home' difficult, if not painful.

the car needs major work and warren, of course, was freaking out. unlike the usual scenario when i cannot possibly take him seriously (because to be honest -freaking out is not an uncommon display of emotion for warren) i really understood - as much as one who doesn't own, or pay insurance on a car can.

i can freak out too though. and whenever i panic about what i'm doing with my life - or whether or not i should just junk my dream, cave in and take a full-time job - warren is always there to remind me why we are here in new york; why we have a '92 Accord that needs a valve replacement; why we are artists and not slaving in an office so we can live in a luxury apartment (with its own washer/dryer!). why we are sticking it out and daring to dream the dream.

and this makes staying in my parents' fancy new home that is not home with the intercom system and the 10 foot ceilings and the marble bathroom floors... home.

laundry day

2007-12-23T10:01:00.000-05:00

it's laundry day because our hamper is now also the floor. the sky is slate gray and yesterday was like that too. i went to the first laundromat and ALL the machineswere taken. strike that. they were all filled and some had dry clothes.

that is cheating.

so i tried my luck at the more expensive (by 50 cents!) laundromat up the block and it was the same thing. by the way, on my trip to the more expensive laundromat - i might have resembled a gladiator driving his chariot towards certain battle and possible death. i get so hostile when i have to do laundry and then when it's so damn difficult on top of it - i just get mean.

the other laundromat is the same. but this one has a guy to help you find machines that are done or almost done (guess that's where the extra 50 cents comes in). so i get my machines. but then i realize i left my detergent and all my money two blocks away at the other fu*king laundromat. so i fill the dryers with my clothes and in the naive hopes that it will actually help - i tell the nice laundromat attendant that i just have to run out because i forgot my detergent 'and i'll be RIGHT back OKAY?!' - and run out the door like a woman on fire (it's not cheating if you are on your second laundromat and you forgot your money and detergent at the first one).

oh hope. what is it that makes me do that? i have hope that people won't be dick-heads and take out your dry laundry - which EVERYONE knows is a place holder (actually it's happened with wet laundry too - which is even meaner).

of course, when i got back one of my loads had been 'handled' by some bi-pedal a-hole with a dick for a head and removed from it's happy home. the nice laundromat attendant said someone must have thought it was done. i smiled sadly. i said 'yeah, i guess' - but he knew - we both knew the truth. people can be penis-heads.

apparently my fascination with the penis has penetrated this post as well.

oh yes, yes i did.

i love my penis

2007-12-21T13:49:00.001-05:00

holy fuck. my eyes are not part of my skull. they are totally separate. the dude i've been temping for is out of the office (thank God). so, i've been on-line all morning looking for Warren's gift. we both waited to tell each other what we want for Christmas until the last possible minute (Warren's a jew - and he loves Christmas with a fervor i only remember having as a child. he's probably making up for all those years he went without). i have to get up and go outside because my bottom is melting into the chair.

i will be taking the stage tonight as Randy The Red-Balled Reindeer alongside my dear friend Adira who will be reprising her famous role of Square Snowman. it should prove to be life changing. my dad actually fashioned me a 13" reindeer 'package' capped off with a miniature santa hat with glowing ball-sack on either side. this is either distrubing or adorable or both.

so thanks for the help daddy. all I had to do was purchase long underwear. you totally saved my ass. or should i say flaming reindeer nut-sack?

rotten eggs

2007-12-20T16:43:00.000-05:00

well guys, i guess i didn't get the female vibrator commersh (no joke). they never called! but i did just receive a call informing me that the commercial in which i would be schilling for eggs and speaking crappy dialogue with a 4 year old has decided not to go with me.

Kid- 'Mom, where's __land?
Schillstein McCarr- 'Well honey, __land's a place where they make the best eggs in the world!'

oh well. i don't like eggs that much anyway. unless they're served with LOTS of cheese. Or in a quiche.

good cry

2007-12-20T10:36:00.001-05:00

i have credit cards. and they have debt. not a scary amount. just enough to make me panic a tiny bit. and have a miniature attack. in my heart. well, i got a bill for one i thought i had paid off (a.k.a. transferred the balance to a 0% card) and it appears that there was a little straggling amount that had snowballed into a medium sized amount - whoopsie! so i was going to go pay it first thing yesterday morning.

"howdy doo! good morning! let me just tippy type onto my computer and bring up my bank account - i should have enough to pay this turd of a credit card bill. let's see - balance is (245.00) - hmm... those parenthesis mean something, don't they? YES, yes ladies and gents - those parenthesis mean that i was NEGATIVE $245.00. because i had given my rent check to my boyfriend in the good faith that he would somehow read my mind and know to wait until the next day (payday) to cash that hot little check. well, he doesn't have ESP.

guys - ESP is a great thing to have. you SHOULD have it! and OFTEN!

when I get upset i take on A LOT. i take on my pain, but i also take on yours and every one you know. see that little tulip wilting to it's certain death? i FEEL that! as a child - i would throw rip-roaring tantrums. scream like a banshee, thrash my body about like i was channelling the anti-christ. but as an adult i've noticed that i am not able to indulge in a good cry, let alone a state of bedeviled posession.

after i had sworn to God and the act of fornicating several times, i decided to go into the bedroom and awake my sleeping boyfriend who had just worked the night-shift (i know - not nice). "listen, i know i didn't say anything but next time you cash my rent - can you just let me know?" to which he replied- "you didn't say anything. how am I supposed to read your mind?" then I turned into Medusa. and then - a magical thing happened - i went into the bathroom and let myself feel really sorry for me and i had a cry like you used to when you were real little, you know? - the kind where you gasp in air like little commas between your heaving sobs? That kind of cry. i didn't care if anyone heard. i was unified with my grief and it felt great. there was a dialogue going on in my head that sort of went like this: 'i'm tired of being poor! i never have enough! what am i DOING with my LIFE! this bathroom is so fucking small! my life is this bathroom!!!' I had the puffy eyes, the snot coming out of the nose. Friends, YOU SHOULD TRY THIS. IT IS AWESOME. i had to stop myself though, because i really could have kept going. all morning.

i opened the door and walked into our bedroom. Warren stared at me and said i sounded like a wounded animal crying in the woods. GOOD. i like my cries that way.

try

2007-06-21T12:55:00.001-04:00

Shooting stars straight from my mouth
Sharp end creatures I just let'em drop
Bang, bang and you are red
You love me more
You love me more
You're pins and needles
You're holy rings
I'll destroy what you give me
Or damn well try

The Dancer

2007-06-05T16:16:00.000-04:00

Everyone thinks my life is SO glamorous because I’m a dancer. It’s not. It’s grit and it’s sweat and it’s dirt, you know? I’m constantly looking for inspiration – perhaps it’s a photograph or an old wooden block – or maybe it’s a plastic bag with what appears to be human fluid in it. Anything goes, you know? Art isn’t NICE, you know? I’m not here to be NICE to you, you know? And so I take these things and put them in my basket. And then I make a dance. You think it sounds easy, right? Go ahead – get a basket – make a dance.

Wrekless Eric - Whole Wide World!

2007-06-04T13:28:00.000-04:00

there is nothing like falling in love with a song for the first time. it raises me up when i'm feeling low and just generally makes me feel wonderful. I LOVE THIS SONG.

North Liberty

2007-06-04T13:22:00.000-04:00

This is something I wrote. I like it. I will post it now.

Sheets of rain. Slicing the dark spring night. Walls of clean rainwater falling on our roof-tops, our heads, our windows. Unleashing upon us. When I was small - out back, in the woods by the railroad tracks. The four of us would pick wild strawberries there. This one day, the rain began to pour. Was I with my dad? Or alone? Ducking under the tree leaves where homes probably stand now. Ducking from the downfall to come.

Hello

2007-06-01T15:29:00.000-04:00

Yeah. It's one of those days that just stretches into oblivion. I have been feeling really angsty about writing this blog. Some people say that it is ego-maniacal and self-masturbatory. Ok. Yeah. I can see that. But I am SO, SO, BORED right now. And even though I was born and raised in the mid-west on the teat of humility, I am at a temp job - I am pinned behind a heavy mahogany desk - and I really need a fucking outlet. The pariah of the capitalist money making machine (that I wouldn't mind being a part of b.t.w.) is feeding on my precious life juice. SUUUUUUHHHHHCKING MY LIIIIIIIIIFE JUUUUUUICE AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! I am hungry. And I am really, really bored. I need to write a show. I need to make a video. I need to have multiple orgasms many times. I need to feel good again. But for right now -in this motherfucking moment, I am here. Hi! Hello! Hell.....oh.

SHOES, BETCH.

2007-01-05T18:15:00.000-05:00

All Hail Liam Sullivan (a.k.a. Kelly)

Get With It

2007-01-04T11:48:00.001-05:00

Boys in yalmukes make me feel like I'm fourteen again.
ME
'Can I come to the party?'
BWY
'Do you have a yalmuke?'
ME
'Uh, no.'
BWY
'Sorry.'
ME
'Oh... okay.'

Early Iowa Memories

2007-01-03T14:53:00.000-05:00

The wind was crisp and the dirt was dry and we rode very fast for ten year olds. Even as a young girl she was a beauty with her auburn hair flashing all about her face. He said - 'Isn't she beautiful?' - like he was looking at a heart-breaking work of art. And I said - 'yes, she is'. And hated her.

Lunch Lady

2006-12-29T12:03:00.000-05:00

She sits alone, eating her lunch in the cafe. Her eyes are quiet, surrounded by a dusting of darker skin. She's almost finished.

At the table across there's a bustling family. Aunts, uncles, cousins and a little baby. She fixes upon them. Studying them intently - her mouth a-gape the slightest bit. . She is clearly amazed with the little baby. She makes eye contact - 'hello! hello!' - in that way that people talk to little babies. Her eyes and her face come alive. She watches the baby as she is lifted by her father and put into the carriage. Following them, tracing every movement like she's piecing it together with her own story. Her eyes follow them out the door and while they leave - her mouth makes a silent, gentle, "oh".

take notes bitchez

2006-12-20T09:44:00.000-05:00

Someday I will re-enact my own scene of The Notebook - all by myself - on a stage. And I will have wet hair and a wet, clinging dress and my face will be moist with a drunk-with-love/passion look and it will look almost exactly like THIS:

phshlemp

2006-11-02T16:10:00.000-05:00

That is how I feel.
I like to feel and I like to feel often.
But I don't like the feeling of phshlemp very much.
Phshlemp reminds me of cold, lumpy oatmeal.
I just need to disco dance.

Breast Shelf

2006-11-01T16:58:00.000-05:00

This was taken at the premiere of 'Men Won't Watch This' a very funny little short I was in - here's the trailer: http://youtube.com/watch?v=T4BgW5JBu6w

Come kittens.
And rest your head upon my breast shelf.

Bitch and Moan

2006-10-27T12:18:00.000-04:00

I have nothing to say.
Coffee breath.
Cardborad air.
Office cube...
How I HATE you.

That's it.

Musings

2006-06-25T17:38:00.000-04:00

today i felt poetic

coffee bar air
cloys to my skin
a humid wrapper

her taught ass
lifts and descends
she's shaking it. making it.

shock of black
a-top her pretty
button face