New York is cold, but I like where I'm living

Starbucks

Me: Grande soy latte

Barista: You're a movie star, aren't you?

Me: (thinking he's kidding) Yes. I am.

Barista: I've seen you in something. What have I seen you in?

Me: I'm not really a movie star. Just in my imagination.

Barista: Awwww! I'll keep your secret.


Questions:

(1) What secret?
(2) Who did he think I was?

--m

The Worst Actor

Ooooh! I love getting comments. I've finally had my first few comments & I feel so happy. Whenever I write this, I always assume that nobody reads it. In a sense, that helps me be more candid. But, like everyone else, I like to hear what others have to say & I want people to read. Yay!

This past Saturday, I was a reader for people who were auditioning for a play I'll be working on in April/May. It was my first time ever doing that, so I was really nervous at first.

Do I stand or sit? Do I move? Will I mess the actors up by being bad? Will they judge me? I'm not the greatest actor in the world. Am I the worst actor in the world?

Joe gave me two bits of advice: Work off the other person & have FUN.

I'm so serious all the time.

But, then I got into it & it was fun. It was fun to see the different ways that people read. The first few were females & they were reading the female lead. I was reading the male lead. I felt a lot of emotion from both of them, a lot of anger. And, as advised by Joe, I let myself feel the anger & responded to that anger.

Then, this girl came in & she was very light & so I was very light.

Then, I got to read the female part for a few males. If they gave me love, I gave them love. If they were joking, I responded to that. It ended up being really fun, but I never felt at ease. Maybe I'd have to do it more in order to feel at ease.

I just finished taking a class that made me feel like I'm the worst actor in the world.

Maybe I'm not the worst actor in the world.

-m

The Face

I was talking to my mom this Sunday. We talked for 3 hours about all kinds of things -- my sister's wedding plans, getting rid of furniture, credit card debt, etc. My mom & I generally don't talk for 2 weeks or so & then we stay on the phone for hours & can't get off. And, I can tell her pretty much anything. I love this about our relationship.

The conversation turned to movies & she asked me if I've seen "that 'Passion of Christ' thing." I said I had decided not to see it (at least not in the theatre) because I don't think it was made for me. I read an editorial in this free NYC daily paper called amNY that talked about how the movie was made for Christians/believers not for agnostics/atheists/Jews/other religions. I definitely fall into the "agnostic" or at least not traditionally "gnostic" category as far as my faith/belief goes, so I figure the movie is not something I may find moving. I may see it on video. People have said it's anti-semitic, and I have no idea if that's true. (Joe said it was violent & pointless but that the acting wasn't bad.) My mom hasn't seen it but she says that it's a work of art by Mel Gibson & nobody should get all freaked out by it. Anyway, I digress -- because I'm going somewhere else with this story.

My mom said she'd read somewhere on the Internet that when Mel Gibson was a little boy he was an orphan and he was in a terrible accident and somehow he lost half his face...

I stopped her right there. "It's not true. It's a well-known urban legend."

She said, "I didn't know if it was true or not, but I thought if it was true it might explain to me some of the reasons he made this film."

"It's not true. You can look up urban legends on the urban legends page on About.com. Some e-mails that go around are neither confirmed nor denied, but this one has been absolutely denied."

"Well, I just thought that if it were true, it would explain..."

I should have let her tell me the explanation.

He had a hard life, lost his face, and so now he...what? makes movies about religion & pain & violence?

What is my mom's perception of Mel Gibson's decision to make this movie? What was she trying to explain?

I'm so curious.

I focused so much on the fact that the rumor isn't true because I think it's so interesting & weird that people e-mail these legends about celebrities & they stay in circulation for years & people -- like my mother -- ponder their relevance to the celebrity's decisions/films/etc. & come to conclusions without first checking that they are true!

Now, I want to hear her explanation because I want to know what she thinks about the film/story/Mel Gibson.

I'm not criticizing my mom. I love my mom. She is one of a kind & one of many.

-m

The Demon Barber

Tonight, I am going to see "Sweeney Todd" at NY City Opera tonight with Joe & my friend John. I saw the show when I was in high school with my best friend Nova. He was a geeky kid who transferred to our high school when I was in 10th & he was in 9th. He had terrible, light brown, thick, wavy hair & he wore tie-dyed jeans (well, it was 1989-1990, so that was still acceptable). He was in my drama class & he quickly became everyone's favorite actor because he could sing & he was sweet & he was cute.

In the summer between his 10th & 11th grade years, he became cool and cut his hair and made other friends and we stopped hanging out so much. I could no longer count on him to eat lunch at Arby's with me every day & go to the movies with me on the weekends. He started dating my friend Gina, to whom I had introduced him.

But, his cool, hippie mother did dye my hair red the first time. They had a little lake/canal in their backyard & we went for a row in a little canoe while we waited for the henna to set in.

And, he took me to see "Point Break" with Keanu Reeves movie on my birthday when I turned 17. We took pictures in one of those machines & -- believe it or not -- I still have one of the pictures.

I don't really know whether I had a crush on him in high school or whether we really were just friends. I know I loved him, but I don't know if I liked him in "that way." We didn't talk about it.

He was up here in the city about a year ago & he's still an actor & still cute & funny & still sings. He's basically the same beautiful boy he was when he was in high school, both before & after he turned cool.

When we got home from seeing "Sweeney Todd," I put the ticket & the playbill in my notebook where I kept all playbills of shows I saw because I wanted to have a complete record of everything. Above it, I wrote "Sweeney Todd...a very 'sick' comedy."

Now, I'm going to see it again, probably 14 or 15 years later! I'm so excited!

-m

Read This:

My friend Daphne's blog:

http://www.livejournal.com/users/dr_pangloss/

-m

Today's Thoughts

Lately, it seems like I can't get anything done unless I'm procrastinating something else. So, I go grocery shopping to avoid scooping the litter. I file the millions of papers on my desk to avoid calling the authors of this book I'm working on to bug them for their chapters. I vacuum the living room to avoid practicing guitar. It's a strange way to organize my life, but at least I'm getting some things done.

I just finished reading "Lucky" by Alice Sebold during my lunch hour. I read "The Lovely Bones" a couple of months ago. She's a good writer. "Lucky" is her memoir of being raped as a freshman in college (including the trial after & her becoming a teacher & eventually a writer) & "The Lovely Bones" is a novel about a 14 year old girl who was murdered & raped & about how she & the family get through the grief. In "The Lovely Bones," the girl grows up while watching her family & friends from heaven.

So much of what I write here on the blog (when I write, which is rare, but I am currently procrastinating riding the elevator to the 26th floor to drop off some documents) is about grief. I've accepted that. This is an outlet for me & maybe some people appreciate reading about it. Hopefully, my accounts are at least readable. Or, maybe nobody reads this...need that "comments" field...

So, last Saturday, a 19 year old NYU student committed suicide by jumping from a building. The New York Post, which I understand is one step (if that) above a tabloid anyway, ran a photo of the girl jumping (!!!) in yesterday's paper on the front page! I was so shocked & so offended by the photo that I told Joe & he wrote an amazing, angry letter to the editor. So did I. They printed 3 letters (not our letters) expressing outrage in today's paper (I checked the online edition; I would never spend a penny to buy the print edition.) & that made me feel, I must admit, pretty good. Vindicated! The letters were strong. They expressed disapproval. I'm glad to see that my fellow New Yorkers were as offended as I by the Post's terrible "journalism" and lack of respect.

I must say I'm very affected by these suicides at NYU. There have been 4 since October (I believe), but one was ruled an accident due to drugs -- which I don't necessarily agree with but I understand that it must provide some comfort to the grieving friends & family members to see it that way. Plus, I acknowledge that I do not know all the facts. I am very affected by these suicides. I feel raw, like "it" is all around me. Spalding Gray's body was found earlier this week. He is believed to have committed suicide as well.

When my brother first died, I didn't like the phrase "committed suicide." I heard someone say "died by suicide" & I felt less of a pang. Now, I say both. I think I have become accustomed to the pangs, the many pangs. Maybe I'm not accustomed at all. Alice Sebold said she remembered the details of what happened more clearly 5-10 years after than she had in the first 3 or 4 years. She also said she recorded the exact details in her journal at the time, which I've done/started to do. I have always felt like I want a record of how I've felt, maybe to get it out or maybe so that I can go back with a greater understanding later or maybe just to put it down & try to realize it's real.

Anyway, to the 26th floor I go...

-m

3 March 2004

When Joe & I stayed at the Doubletree Hotel in Philadelphia about a month ago, we were on a high floor & there was a window. I became obsessed with whether the window opened all the way. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack, and because I was afraid it did open all the way, I was afraid to try.

I also had a similar experience when we went to the Guggenheim a few months ago. On the top level of the museum, there is just a short, white wall, which could easily be climbed over. The fall would be several stories onto cement. Once I saw this, I again felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I pointed it out to Joe.

Eventually, I tried the hotel window in Philadelphia, and it only opened a crack. Joe pointed out that this was probably as much because of the danger of small children falling out as it was for the "other" situation.

Joe & I talked about this last night. There was an article in a recent Rolling Stone Magazine about Stephen Bohler, the NYU student who jumped from the 10th floor balcony of the library atrium in October 2003, and he brought it to my house to read. The student was 18 years old & his death was ruled an "accident" because he had been on drugs at the time. There were two other suicides at NYU this past fall.

I did a Google search today for his name & found some comment boards & articles about what happened. One site has a link to a photo of the atrium. It's indoors & quite beautiful but it gives me the creeps to look at it because it's clearly a long way down. Another article stated that NYU has put up glass barriers on the balconies. This makes me very happy. It makes me feel better.

What I realized when Joe & I were talking last night is that my fear -- why I felt so freaked out by the hotel window & the Guggenheim "balcony" -- was that I am afraid someone is going to commit suicide. Especially in the Guggenheim, I felt this panic, like someone could jump while I was there or the same day or the next day. And, in the hotel, I felt like anyone who rents that room can just open up the window & that's that.

I feel like I would like to be the patrolwoman on all the bridges, on all the balconies. I would like to check all the windows & make sure they don't open. I would like to put up barriers on all high structures. Me personally.

It's a terrible thing. I think this fear/anxiety will subside eventually, though. It hasn't been even a year & a half yet.

m