Path

 

I'm not sure where this will lead me, this path I'm on.  I've always said I want to be an actress, I want to be a working actress, I want to make my living as a working actress.  And now I have the chance.  Was it so wrong to pursue another path while keeping this one in sight ?  There are so many others who stayed on the one path, never faltering, and they saw great hardship, but stayed true.  I now have the chance to get on this path.  I don't think I'm any less worthy just because I chose to not do it the way they did.  I found my own way of staying on the path.  And now I've arrived.  Or at least, I've arrived at a new spot.  Where this path will lead me, I look forward to finding out.

Que sera, sera

I've attached this clip for 'Que sera, sera".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZbKHDPPrrc

It's a simple way of explaining that looking into the future is not what we should be doing.  Just live in the present.  Live in the moment.  Just be (thank you, Whopper).  Do your work, put it out there, manifest the reality and GO. 

Stephanie Wynfield

I got it !!!!!!  Stephanie Wynfield.  She's the receptionist for the dentist.  And apparently has the eye for him.  I don't know much else.  I'm hoping the package with the script and contracts et al will be showing up soon.  Won't this be cool ???!!!???  A TV pilot !!!  How amazing is that !!  Yippeee !!!!

Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans

I had the urge to hear this song as it was originally done by Billy Holiday and Louis Armstrong.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xhkxy3ei8os&feature=player_detailpage

I'm waiting to hear from New Orleans about my audition

 So I find this clip on YouTube and it says it comes from a movie done in 1947 called "New Orleans".  The clip starts and interspersed with what is glorious music from the mouths of Ms. Day and Master Satchmo are these white folk.  Now don't get me wrong.  White folk are OK.  I happen to be one of them.  It's just that, in order to give these 2 stars a chance to be seen and heard by mainstream audiences, they had to be enveloped by a "white" plot.  It just shows how frightened people can be.  And how they still are. 

Watching the Republican National Convention just emphasized how "other" I am.  If you're not lily white and are willing to close the door on anyone not like you, then you can belong.  And it worries me how many people are with them.  Their fear is palpable.  As is their hatred.   I guess bringing up Third Reich analogies is cliche, but ...

And I worry that my friends are afraid to speak out because it may alienate other friends.  If someone is willing to proclaim you an "other" because you will not tolerate their hatred, are they really a friend ?

Trust

Dennis has his 2nd angioplasty tomorrow (all manner of prayers and good wishes gratefully accepted).  We want this to work so badly.  Living like this has been hell, both for him and me.  He says it doesn't bother him.  Bullshit.  Of course it does.  His heart is at stake (no pun intended).  Thank goodness I have the boss and co-workers I have.  They have been doing everything they can to cover for me.  Bless you Analytics group.

My husband will be going under the "angioplasty" with a wonderful doctor named David Jurkovich.  What a guy.  He actually listens to you.  Imagine.  A doctor who actually listens to his patient.  I am so impressed with this man.  Nothing forced or pushed.  Just easy, relaxed, wanting to help.  I like this guy.  A lot.  And so does Dennis.  We trust he will do well for us.  And I know he will.

Time

I haven't posted in a while.  While I haven't been gone, I haven't actually been burning to continue.  You see, I've started a journal and I try to add to it daily. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't.  The time is what's not steady.  I wish I had a steady time to write to my journal, to write to this blog.  But I don't.  It's not that I don't want to.  Believe me, I do.  It's just that I can't seem to fit it in to what else is happening in my life at the moment.  It would be nice to say "From 1 to 2 I'll journal and from 3 to 4 I'll blog".  But no dice.  I have no control over my time.  What a joy that would be - to be able to control my time.  Oh well, maybe one day.

My Whopper

I got the callback yesterday and I'm still over the moon.  Who'd of thought I'd be this way?  So giddy?  And childish ?  Yep, Whopper would.  He's seen me in all my moods and temperaments.  And he would always be there, no matter what, to see me through.  Thank you, my special friend.  Who knows where this one will go, but I know you'll be there through it all.  I love you, Whop.

A rant then CALLBACK !!!

What is going on in my life ?  It's as if I don't exist.  Everything I do seems to be invisible or non-existent.  Even the trivial things.  And it's all just recently. 

It began with my submission for the role of Mary Todd Lincoln in the National Geographic Docudrama "Killing Lincoln".  I had reservations about even submitting myself for this one.  After all, Bill O'Reilly (yes, that Bill O'Reilly - the pompous tool) wrote the book and would be one of the producers.  So I considered it a spiritual test for me.  How could I work with someone I differ from so completely ?  That would be challenging, but a challenge I think I could handle.  Who knows ?  Perhaps over the course of working on the project, we could find mutual ground to help bring us together.  Nice thought.  Anyway, I submitted the standard info, picture/headshot, and filled out a form with specific questions - how tall are you, etc.  I emphasized that I was 5' tall, as Mary Todd was a small woman herself.  And sent it off. That was end of May.  And nothing.  Until July 11th, when I got an URGENT email saying I had to send in a tape of myself doing these specific scenes as Mary Todd and they had to be in to their office by NOON NEXT DAY !!!!  Yikes, found a cameraman, put myself on tape and sent them the link -- and nothing.  What's with this ?  Not even a "thank you" email.  This would be a great opportunity to see if I could keep my differences out of my passion, namely my acting.  I would like to try, but it's as if they don't see me.  What gives ?

-- 3 hours later --

I think just ranting was enough to get something moving because the NOLA project has me on their CALLBACK LIST !!!!  I can't believe it.  I may actually have a shot at a TV show !!! WOW !!!! 

Anticipation

I'm listening to Carly Simon singing "Anticipation".  And that is what I have.  Anticipation for Friday, when I'll see my husband after nearly 3 weeks of separation.

Anticipation, Anticipation
Is making me late
Is keeping me waiting

I can't stand being away from him.  I am lost without him.  I love having him around.  He is the single most perfect person in my life.  What I would do without him...we don't go there. We just love the moments we have together.  I love him. 

And tomorrow we might not be together
I'm no prophet, I don't know natures way
So I'll try to see into your eyes right now
And stay right here, 'cause these are the good old days.


Daytime

This has been one of the most enjoyable days of my life.  It started out with sharing breakfast (coffee and doughnuts)  with 2 wonderful people and then having my pictures taken for a possible submission. 

Well, the submission is going to happen.  It's what happens afterwards that we don't know about.  That's when the casting office takes a look at everything and decides "Hmm, she looks interesting.  Let's meet her."

Wouldn't it be grand if it were that easy.  That simple.  Just "Come on in.  We like you".  But it isn't like that.  At least not for me.  Not yet.  Maybe in the near future people will say "Oh her, yeah.  Let's work with her".  But not yet.  However, I am holding hope to hear back from the folks in New Orleans.  Playing an "Alexis Carrington" type of character would be smashing.  And the gig in Richmond as Mary Todd Lincoln -- no slouch either.  To be Mrs Lincoln.  How could that be bad?  Oh, maybe if I have to deal with the ego of Bill O'Reilly.  If that's part of it, then this truly will be a spiritual test.  Not one of my favorite people.  Oh well.  We'll just have to wait and see.  One way to deal will be to remember that we are all made of the same clay, and that breath brought us all to be.  Keeping that in mind, maybe I'll be able to see past the stupid things he stands for, and try to just see the man.  Good thought.  Let's see if I can do it.  But -- I'd have to get the job first.

Waves

We are one.  We breathe with the Universe.   As I am, so are we all.  We are but waves in this sea of Everything.  We need to remember that.  Wow.  Would my Whopper be pleased that I'm finally getting this.  Something that he tried to teach me all those years ago and I just didn't get.  Thank you my friend for showing me the way.  This so beautiful.  Thank you, dear friend.

To New York ?

I'm going to New York on June 1st -- maybe.  It all depends on whether I hear back from any of these film/television jobs I'm going out for.  Isn't it terrible that I'm willing to stop my personal enjoyment, and that of my husband's, for something as trivial as a TV/film gig.  But that's the nature of what I do.  And my husband seems to understand. He even encourages it.  He told me "if this comes through, do it."  But I'll have to see what comes through.  Schedules can be shifted.  "Just be." 

Such an Alice Day

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

Lewis Carroll

(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

If that isn't one of the best examples of 'waxing poetic'...  Sometimes we just need the time to step back, relax, and enjoy.  The days are too short to mess with things out of our control. 

I give myself very good advice, But I very seldom follow it.

Such an Alice day today.  I wonder why.  Is it because I'm waiting to hear if ANY of the castings I've gone to are going to come through?  It's as if the phone only rings to tease me.  It's hardly ever from someone I want to hear from, i.e. a job.  And it's not only for a job.  I have some requests out there too.  I know things happen in their own time, and it's usually the best time.  I just wish it would happen in my time.  "Just be", Whopper would say.  "Just be".

AAAAAH....

My day has been one of total frustation.  2 steps forward, 1 step back.  Yes, I suppose you could say I am making progress...But...

Wandering...

I am here at work looking forward to the clock ticking towards my eventual leaving.  Ah, the joy of leaving someplace that you really don't want to be.  It's not that I hate my job.  On the contrary.  This is probably the best place for me to work, given my temperament.  I really don't answer to anyone.  And I can come and go at leisure.  I have my responsibilities.  And I more than meet them.  So why do I look so forward to leaving this place ?  Because it means that I can go out and do all the crazy things I love to do.  My soul is not that of an office-dweller.  I have wander-lust.

I think that's why I never really got upset with Whopper when he would wander off.  He couldn't stay cooped up at home either.  He loved to wander.  Sometimes he'd bring home friends.  Then we'd have to find their owner.  But that was fun, too.  He always came home.  Except for the last time.

It was New Jersey and Dennis and I were in the midst of packing the house to move back to Florida.  My father had come up to help us with the move and while they were loading the moving truck with furniture, Whopper walked out.  When I came home and asked where he was, no one knew.  I waited all night for him.  He didn't come home.  We were leaving the next day and before we left, I scoured the neighborhood and made the neighbors swear they would call if they found him.  But they never called.

I truly believe that Whopper knew how sick and old he was and knew that he would never survive another move.  He'd been through all of our others.  I guess he wasn't wiling to go through another.  I believe he left...no looking back...for all of us.  Knowing that he would only get sicker and less able to take care of himself. 

I hate when anyone is noble like that.  To deny us the chance to take care of someone we love to the very end.  Whopper was my friend and companion and very much like a beloved child.  And I couldn't say good-bye. 

I think that's why I get so upset with my parents when they give me that same speech.  "We don't want to be a burden, we just want our own place, etc.".  I have to respect their wishes.  But it doesn't mean I have to like it.

I Hate Waiting

I hate waiting.    When I want to do something, I want to do it NOW.  Not later. NOW.  I've never been very good at waiting.  I'm usually early to everything.  I don't understand people who think it's alright to be late.  Even the "fashionably" late set.  I don't get them. 
Whopper was the same way.  Whenever it was time to go out, especially if I piddled around getting things together before we left, he would be shaking in anxiety driven ecstasy.  The longer I took, the more he'd shake and the louder his protests.  They would start out as little whimpers ratcheting up to full-throated barks if I took too long.  So much for "relax and just be".  Not when he wanted something.

Walk Away

I am at work.  Grinding through, as all computer laborers do.  Now, I shouldn't complain.  After all, I could be some other kind of laborer..ditch digger, bathroom attendant, etc.  The people who do REAL work.  Not some button pushing whiz-kid like myself.  I have it quite easy compared to most.  But still..I would rather be out there creating/performing. 

When Whopper had had enough of the boring, he would simply walk away.  No questions, no worries, no "hey, I'm leaving, I'll see you in a few hours."  Nope, just walk away.  And I mean walk away.  Not even a look over his shoulder to see if we even noticed he was going.  If we stopped him, fine, then he'd turn around and come back.  If not...

Sometimes this walking away entailed climbing over the fence, which he could scale quite adeptly.  Or just walking out an open door.  He did that a lot.  But no rush.  Just walk away.

I find I do that, too.  When I can't deal with the boring any longer, I walk away, too.  No hurries, no rush, no guilt.  If they stop me, fine.  If not... 

Of Courage and Catapults

I built a trebuchet.  No, not a full-scale trebuchet.  Geez, that would've taken a construction space the size of a football field.  No, mine is a much smaller model, about 3 feet tall when the arm is fully upright.    Why a trebuchet, you may ask?  Well...

Back in the 90s, when rollerblading was the fad du jour 

 (and, no I don't have any pictures of me in my cute little spandex rollerblading outfit, geez)

I would take the dogs, Whopper (on the left) and Goober (on the right), for runs through the local park, me on the blades, them on feet.  And what feet they had.  Little black blurs is what they were, Whopper in the lead, Goober right behind.  And what noses they had...running here, there and everywhere.  Always curious, always adventurous, always fearless.  By watching them run, they led me to

• a dairy on the other side of the park fence,
• a nest of burrowing owls,
• squirrels who needed the exercise of being chased,
• new people who loved the serenity of Whopper and the joy of Goober

...and college kids taking target practice with their catapults!  It was amazing.  A bunch of engineering students had built some pretty good-sized working catapults, and were taking turns trying to hit a dummy in a tower with a head of lettuce.  We were mesmerized by the sight and thrilled by the competitive effort.  It was always a kick to see them every time we went to the park. 

One afternoon, my husband decided to join us at the park.  As we were driving there, Whopper and Goober began to get very excited in anticipation.  They began yelping and scurrying in the back seat.  My husband, ever the stick in the mud, said "Geez, what's wrong with them.  Can't you keep them quiet?"  To which I replied, "Look, WE invited YOU to share OUR day."  "Share our day?  What am I, an uncle or something?"  He just didn't get it.

When we got out of the car, we began our run.  First, the cows by the dairy. Then, the owls.  The squirrels were always being chased, and the people and children always stopped to say hello to Whopper, Goober and me.  Finally, as we came to an open clearing, there they were...the catapults!  My husband dropped his jaw.  I don't think he was expecting THAT as part of his day.  Whopper and Goober bounded up to the kids who had, by this time, unofficially adopted them.  We were mesmerized again.  Just watching them compete was enough to make me want a catapult of my own.  And now I have one.  And it works !!!

Having two happy, rambunctious dogs led me to something that I would not have experienced without their fearlessness and their total trust that their nose would lead them to something grand.  I think that's something we need to remember.  Fear is the number one cause of fear.  With it, we never try, we never learn, we never grow.

Now I know there are some of you out there screeching "OMG, she doesn't have her dogs on a leash !!!  What a menace to society !!!"  I know.  I heard the same talk from my husband.  And the talk is right.  But when I saw them running, having a grand time, it would have killed me to restrict them.  But we had an incident.

My dogs are happy, friendly, curious dogs.  But not all dogs are like that.  As I was roller-blading along, Goober got too close to a Husky who, incidentally, was on a leash.  The Husky opened its jaws and grabbed Goober by the head and began to shake.  Out of nowhere, Whopper flew in like a bat out of hell and clamped down on the Husky's jaw until he dropped Goober.  Jaws, teeth, fur, blood flew until the other owner and I pulled them apart.  Let me put this into perspective

Whopper - terrier mix - small dog

Goober - border collie mix - small dog

Husky - big dog

I'm looking at the blood and wondering where it came from and saw that Whopper had a small piece of his ear, the tip missing.  And the blood gushed with every beat of his heart.  I grabbed Whopper, leashed Goober, and raced to the Emergency Animal Hospital.  Goober came home with me, but Whopper had to stay overnight.

When I picked him up the next day, he had a bandage around his head.  Stitches, cuts and bruises.  Looking like every bit the hero, I seriously thought about getting him a little medal to pin to his collar.  "For services rendered in the defense of a comrade's life, without thought for his own."  That's what the vet said.  He said he'd never heard of anything like this before.  Way to go Whopper. 

Can we honestly say we would do the same thing for a friend ?  A family member ?  A child ?  I'd like to hope that I'd have some of Whopper's courage.

To Write or Not to Write

To write or not to write, that is the question.  We (Whopper and I) have not been communicating with the rest of the world as of late.  My fault, really.  I've been waiting for inspiration, a bolt of lightning to come out of the sky and knock me to my knees with inspiration.  No such luck.  It appears I will have to be like all the rest of us..trudging through the sludge until real inspiration strikes.  Until then, we trudge. 

Whopper is at the heart of this trudging.  In the course of my wanting inspiration to strike, I saw my Whopper looking at me and saying "Well?   Get to it.  You won't find the treasure until you dig through the dirt".    Quite right, dear friend, quite right.  So for the next many posts, expect to be covered in dirt.

Who is "Whopper?"

My sister, Liana, with Whopper in our Hialeah home.

Whopper was my dog.  But that's a really mundane statement.  Whopper was more than my dog.  He was my friend and teacher.  Yes, teacher.  You see, there were those moments in our lives when my husband, Dennis, and I would just look over to our "dog", and his wise little eyes would simply tell us - "Just Be".  "Just Be". What a simple concept.  And so hard to do.  Dennis and I remind each other of this and other "wisdoms" culled from our time with Whopper.  Hopefully, I'll be able to impart them to you.

A little biography on Whopper.
  
Whopper came into our lives via my sister, Liana.  She was coming home from her shift at the hospital and had stopped at Burger King to get something.  Shivering next to the generator was this little puppy.  With the help of a few well placed burgers, she managed to get him into her car and over to my house.  We had just lost our Cocker Spaniel, Buffy, so the thought of getting another dog was the furthest thing from our minds.  Well, my sister changed that.  Dennis gave the puppy a bath, experiencing for the first time one of our cherished memories - "the baby Whopper smell".  It's that combination of clean and puppy that we'll carry with us always.  He was little, but he had all the markings of a Dobie.  I figured he'd grow into a monster.  So appropriately, we called him "Whopper".  The next day, Dennis took him to the vet for his checkup and basically to find out what kind of dog he was.  Upon entering the house I asked him, "Well, how big is he going to get ?".  Dennis replied by taking his hand and hovering it just a few inches higher than Whopper's head.  "He's a terrier-dachshund mix.  Or at least that's the closest we can come".  So it looked like my Whopper would be a Whopper Jr.  No matter, Whopper was his name and he soon lived up to it.