One of the unexpected benefits of this blog is that it has actually brought me closer to acquaintances, old friends, and total strangers. A few days ago, I received an invitation to go to the Musee D’Orsay with someone I had never met before, (yes it was a boy).
In honor of Laurent and his friends who are…as I write this…visiting one of the best museums in Paris, I offer this humble video tribute to the art work you can see there.
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Humans will come and go as they please, but Alice is forever. As of November 2nd, I have coexisted with this nine pound feline for a decade. She’s been in my life longer than even my own birth mother. This is why I dedicate this post to my little evil genius.
Here are ten reasons that I love you:
1) You are a true alpha kitty. Whenever I stub my toe you immediately assume that the dog has bitten me, go into attack mode and f_ck him up. Never mind that he is fifty-five pounds and you are under ten.
You are my protector. I know if god-forbid someone broke into my apartment or tried to hurt me, you would lay down your life for me, while he would probably lick them.
2) You come to me whenever I call your name. This is our secret, I promise.
3) You like to be held close, and purr loudly when you get attention.
4) You lift your two front legs to crawl up my body, as if you’re asking to be picked up like a baby.
5) For these reasons, I believe that you were in fact a dog in a previous life, but that you found it to be a most undignified and disagreeable state. Therefore you moved up the karmic food chain into a higher state of being, and became a cat.
6) Even though you claimed that you hated the other cat I brought home, I’d often catch you holding her in a headlock and cleaning her face and ears.
7) You secretly stalk me whichever room I am in, and make sure that you’ve rolled yourself nonchalantly into a sleepy little fur ball so that I think that you don’t care, although I know you’re aware of every move I make.
You have pre-selected thrones for such activity in the bedroom, living room, and kitchen…you leave the bathroom for the other cat, who seems to have a fetish about watching people shower and take a dump.
That’s why you ‘re not startled whenever I gently touch you. It is a cross between a meow and a purr. We have our own language, and we understand each other purr-fectly.
9) You’ve brought home dead mice and lizards and left them in front of my bedroom door like a little love note. You know I hate cockroaches so you just make them disappear.
10) You have been with me through the best and worst of times. You have lived through crappy apartments, crappy roommates, crappy litter boxes, crappy food, and a lot more, and you’ve never altered your affection for me. For these reasons and many more…I love you, happy anniversary.
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1) Talent will always f-up the very last line of a long paragraph of script.
Solution: Ego massage about how hard it is to read a teleprompter, and a candid story about a famous broadcaster who calls himself a stupid a-hole every time he makes a mistake, usually does the trick.
2) When you try for a second, third, fourth or fifth take, there will be the following noise: a cell phone, a siren, or a helicopter.
Solution: There is no solution. You’re shooting in New York City, what did you expect.
3) When everyone’s nerves are frayed, and fatigue and impatience have set in, the producer will trip over a piece of equipment…while the camera is rolling.
Solution: Although they’re signing your pay check, they need your technical know how to get the job done. This is the time to suggest that everyone needs a latte to get through the next shot.
4) A writer or producer will always reword the script less than a minute before you start taping the show. Talent will have already rehearsed the old copy, therefore talent will stumble over the new copy. They will continue to reword it, until it no longer represents anything resembling the English language.
Solution: Think of ways to spend all money you’ll make in overtime. Avoid the following: barely audible groans. Take up the following: Soduku or crosswords
5) The more over-exposed the talent, the less likely they will show up for rehearsal, the more they will mess up, and blame you for their mistakes.
Solution: Make sure you own an invisibility cloak, a-la Harry Potter.
6) If you’re shooting a corporate video in an old office building, the sound man will also moonlight as the gaffer and camera assistant. He will plug all of the lighting and camera equipment into the same wall. He will insist that you don’t know what you are talking about because he’s a production renaissance man. The fuse will blow in that office, and a rolling black out will occur on the floor.
Solution: Silence is golden, even if you’re dealing with a dumb shit.
7) When you are done shooting you will notice that there was a flag was in the frame.
Solution: Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.
If a piece of equipment falls, it will land on your foot. Chances are that it will be an open leathermen, the sharp end of a camera plate, or the c-stand that you forgot to tie down to your rig.
Solution: When object falls instinctively lift right leg like a flamingo or get use to wearing ugly steel toed boots.
9) After you arrive late for your call time, you’ll discover that either you’re missing equipment or the equipment is not properly functioning.
Solution: You won’t be coming back to work for this client so make the most of the craft service.
10) The more someone reminds you that you’re lucky to have a job in the entertainment industry, the higher the chances are that they’ll neither pay you the standard day rate for that job, nor will they pay you on time.
Solution: Be impressed with no one unless they’ve earned your respect and appreciate the job you do.
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part two
The restaurant he chose was crowded. We met and there was a tentative kiss on the lips. He quickly decided that we should probably try to find some place else and we left.
He crossed Broadway five paces ahead of me. I couldn’t keep up in four inch heels. He didn’t seem to be aware that the polite thing to do if he didn’t want to hold hands would be to at least stay by my side.
We had two choices that were close by: sushi restaurant where we could have easily gotten a table and the prices were reasonable, or a pricey Italian restaurant next door. I let him make the decision. He chose the later.
He said,” Order whatever you like.” Then he ordered us both a glass of wine.
I was curious and I had to ask, “So why did you ask me to the opera?”
He looked at me with a blank expression on his face.
“What I mean is, I’ve been wanting to go for awhile and I wonder where you got the idea?”
“It was meant to be, then.” He smiled.
I was confused. Was he avoiding the question?
“Did you read my blog by any chance?” I asked.
“Oh no, I don’t have time for those things.” He winced.
I was crestfallen. “Well then what gave you the idea to ask me?”
“Well my friend Sara went back to Europe early when she got a job offer. I originally bought the tickets for us.”
“Oh!” I smiled, when really I wanted to poke my fork into his eye.
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part one:
The call came four days ago.
“Would you like to go to the opera with me?” Ever since I worked on a production at City Opera, I had been pining for any excuse to dress up and drop a couple of bucks on a box seat. I wanted to be, for once in my life, both a real princess and the audience member, not the person in the haphazard pony tail with the dirty finger nails behind the stage.
I was thrilled. I called my best friend immediately. “He asked me to go to the opera! How did he know that I wanted to go?”
“Maybe he read your blog. He obviously really wants to impress you.” She giggled.
“Wow” I said, “I’m so glad I never called him.”
“Very wise.” She concurred. ”And forget about that crap I told you about asking him how he feels. A guy friend told me that was the worst thing you could possibly do.”
Believe it or not, this cheesy conversation really took place. This is how Kimber and I talk to one another in an attempt to reclaim our lost adolescence. Despite some very tragic recent events in my family, having her back in my life, has enabled me to experience parts of those missing pieces of youth, that are well…normal.
Let’s put it this way…I never went to my prom or homecoming. I never brought a guy home to be approved of by my father. I never had anyone hold my hand and tell me that I was precious, without any agenda of sex being involved. I’m a sturdy, self reliant, street wise woman because I have to be, but under this hardened surface is someone who just wants to be loved.
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About a month ago I wrote about a particularly brutal job I worked on at Radio City Music Hall. Afterward, despite the fact that the show itself was a major success, and there were zero hiccups in my department, my boss was emailed a very harsh letter about my performance on the show from the producer.
I give my boss a lot of credit for not reacting before he had all the information. Yesterday he emailed me and said that he asked someone else who worked on the show what they thought. They said I was fine and that they also received a copy of the email and that they didn’t understand what the producer was talking about.
That someone is one of the “premier” stage managers anywhere. Let’s put it this way, when he gave me the instructions and preamble for this job, he said that I needed to really work hard for this person. That they always did the Oscars and the Grammy’s and that his reputation in the business was outstanding. He never mentioned the director or the producer by name, he only told me to take care of “Gene.”
And despite the fact that Gene and I only exchanged a few words, and all of them were regarding the show we were putting on…Gene none the less, and knowing me for only a finite period, has taken care of me as well. Vive Gene…I pray he continues to do so well.
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Fellow bloggers, please just admit that you do it. You google your own site name. Heck you probably search for your own name for that matter. Why do we put all this time into our virtual universes? It’s to see if anyone is talking about us. It’s comforting to know that at any time on this planet there are quiet inquisitive souls everywhere, searching to connect with someone who is looking for something just a little bit different. I stopped watching network television months ago, knowing that I can find exactly the type of entertainment I truly enjoyed online.
When I was first thinking up names for my site, I had just come back from Paris. I was as free, wide eyed and innocent as a child is on her first day of school. And like any person who is suddenly young at heart again, I made mistakes. Believe it or not, this is the third incarnation of my site. Each time I labored to revamp my blog, I learned a little more about what I wanted my site to do and communicate, and I made changes to improve my work.
So imagine my surprise when I googled my site name and found an article on the BBC, that made a reference to the term American Amelie. No, this was not fame knocking on my door but a film critic talking about the film “Me and You and Everyone We Know.” The critic described the lead heroine as an “American Amelie” or “an immature artist.” Ouch. I thought about my blog title and asked myself if I could ever be respected as a blogger or an artist if such an idea was prevalent.
However, I’ve decided this is one part of my site that will not change. Anyone who reads my blog regularly knows that in my professional life, I’m surrounded by geniuses all the time. Honestly, I’m tired of them. Just like I’m tired of perfection. What has kept me going all these months despite some really sad moments is the idea that I’m creating new possibilities in my life with this blog. This an effort from the heart, and I hope my readers enjoy my blog with that spirit in mind.
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