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Thursday, March 6, 2014
When I got called in for a sitcom audition one of the things my acting coach told me to do was to find the M.A.C. store nearest to my audition and have them do my makeup. No, he was not suggesting that I’m heinous but there’s pretty and then there’s Primetime-TV pretty. Depending on the role it’s either go glam or go home. Actually it’s a weird combination of glam-natural; an effortless beauty that’s not all that easy to pull off in HD.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Okay, let me start by saying that I was wrong. I was wrong because I had pulled over into a bus stop. I didn’t want to but it was the only clear space on the block (on any block) since un-melted mounds of snow take up a lot of room. But I was lost and before I drove any further I wanted to make a phone call to verify the address of where I was going, and get my bearings.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
|PHOTO BY LEIGHANN LORD|
While my aging and ailing Honda Civic is in the shop getting some impromptu but very necessary repairs I had to rent a car. At 30 minutes to closing I took what was left on the lot, which happened to be an adorable, red Fiat 500 Sport. With an aversion to calling things by a number instead of a name – that perhaps hails back to Star Trek Voyager’s character, Seven of Nine – I’ve taken to calling my Fiat 500, Jellybean. With a car this tiny, food shopping at Costco is out. However, from a parking perspective, Jellybean is perfect for New York City. But not everybody is a fan.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
|Image courtesy of Gualberto 107|
Empty boxes are like the police. You never have one when you need it.
I needed a box but I didn’t want one. I knew where to get it though, so off I went to my local Staples; aisle eight, on the left. When I caught sight of the boxes I felt the prickle of tears and I slowed down. But it wasn’t slow enough to keep me from getting there. I had no idea what size I needed so I picked a large because he had a lot of stuff. And I stood there for a while in the aisle just holding the box, wishing I didn’t need it.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
A friend invited me to go bowling and I didn’t just say “no,” I said, “Hells no!" You know it’s serious when you add the “s.” Why such a vehement reaction? Is it the inherently unsanitary nature of the game? You’d think so, but for some reason my Inner Neat Freak is not disturbed by the idea of sticking my digits into those dark, germy holes or slipping my feet into shoes that other people have been wearing for decades. For me, it’s a childhood thing. No, I wasn’t beaten with a bowling ball or abandoned in a bowling alley. The problem is my Dad was a fantastic bowler. And when I say fantastic, I mean great, amazing, could’ve gone pro. My Dad went to bowling tournaments and won trophies. When he stopped bowling, he continued to coach and became a league official. That’s a lot to live up to.