Summer Storms and Burnt Knees

Within the span of a month I helped four people move.  It was pretty wild.  Packing, cleaning, crying, lugging, schlepping, fighting, waiting and dare I say, sweating.  The last move took place in Boston.  I was moving my little cousin Jenna from Brighton, Massachusetts to Sommerville.  It's twenty minutes from downtown Boston and that used to be my stomping ground when I was in College.  Sommerville was the bad part of town, nicknamed Slummerville but now with the Boston Proper rents at astronomical highs people are hip to these newly renovated  neighborhoods.  I remember when I went to school at Emerson, I lived on Beacon Street and most of my fellow classmates were trust fund kids and  a few really cute guys that hooked up with the wealthy New York Park Avenue babes for a free ride.  I slipped through the cracks via a scholarship, settlement money from a car accident and a little bit of financial aid.  I didn't pay any attention to the sons of Fortune 500 CEO's, I opted for the cute Portuguese soccer player that worked in the cafeteria and lived in.....wait for it....Slummerville.  I went there a few times back in the day to meet his pitbulls.  I wasn't scared.  It reminded me of the block where I grew up.

Anyway, back to moving my cousin to the cleaned up, gentrified, 2011 version of Sommerville.  It was 90 degrees and humid.  I wore my grey skinny jeans and that was a big mistake, they were stuck to me by the end of the day.  It was like moving someone and they lived inside of the steam room at the YMCA.   Hot, hot, hot, humid, humid, humid, and SWAMPY.  It was me, my cousin, my aunt and my uncle.  We grabbed dressers, clothes, tables, dishes, a matress, a television and a plethora of other stuff that we just threw in boxes. It took us about 6 hours and then we hopped in my cousins car and made the five hour drive to Maine.  As we crossed the state line in New Hampshire, I looked up into the sky and it was a peach color at 6 o'clock at night, every ten minutes I would see a lightning bolt stretch across the sky and I thought about my childhood.  I am from moody territory.  The east coast is unpredictable and real.  I took a deep breath and remembered everything that I came from and it made my time in Los Angeles all the more bearable.  I would just have to find the people that understood.

I timed my trip to coincide with Jenna's birthday (the one that I helped move), she was turning twenty four.  All of her cohorts were meeting her in Maine and it was going to be a non-stop 3 day celebration.  She is one of the funniest people I know and we laughed for most of the five hour trip to Maine.  Her wit is laser sharp and her one liners will slay anyone, I crumble into hysterics.  Back East you know how much someone loves you by how much they insult you and she didn't let up on me once.  She kept calling me Hollywood and telling me I needed to pick up the pace and why was I so depressed because she would catch me staring into space.  I'm a thinker and she is full throttle from the minute she wakes up.  She was ranked all Western Massachusetts female athlete of the year, she is tall with freckles and the most beautiful blue eyes.  Oh and she likes girls.  Yep.  And from what I saw she can charm the pants off of anyone, man or woman.  She had all the party girls in a tizzy.  Her charisma is lethal.  I was never made fun of so much in a three day span and yet I never felt more loved.  Ahh family.

The house was on high tilt all weekend.  Living in Hollywood I have not witnessed the amount of partying like I saw at the house on the hill in Maine.  These girls were wild and did not stop until my aunt had to go out into the yard at four in the morning to tell them to get into the house and stop singing at the top of their lungs.  We spent our days sunning on the dock at Moose Pond.  It was beautiful.  The water was super clean.  We were surrounded by loons and my aunt told me that loons only hang in clean water.  My uncle's house is positioned where you can see the whole pond from his back picture window.  It is glorious and green with trees as far as your eyes can see.  The view reminds me that God is indeed the greatest artist in the world.  It is heaven here in Maine.  It is the way life should be.

The party train left on Sunday night and I was left with my aunt and uncle and my two other cousins.  It was calm and peaceful and our time was spent boating, cooking, sleeping, power walking, reading and watching movies.  A home cooked meal every night.  It was delicious.

Now this is where it gets a bit surreal.  It has to do with the six degrees of separation.  Well I am two degrees from President Obama.  I know, shocking huh?  Two people away from Obama.  White House Correspondents dinner in my future, maybe?  My cousin Karin is a brainiac.  A bona fide genius.  She works for JP Morgan and brokers deals in the 100 million dollar range and she's not even thirty yet!  If I'm not mistaken she just closed a deal for 725 million.  The rest of us stand in awe of her wheeling and dealing.  I only saw this kind of wealth on TV when I used to watch shows like Dallas and Dynasty as a kid.  Anyway, she got into Wharton Executive Business school and lo and behold her classmate is Reggie Love, President Obama's personal assistant.  She is friends with him now and all because she didn't know who he was at first.  All her other classmates were jocking him and she knew he worked at the White House but didn't know what he did.   One day she asked him who his boss was and he said "President Obama".  She said "well I know that but who do you have to report to?"  He said "President Obama."  She was a little taken aback and it had now made sense that so many people approached him when they were out on the town.  So my cousin then Reggie and then the President.  I never thought that I would ever have an "in" in the political world.  Crazier things have happened.

I poured my heart out to my cousin Amy, she is the middle girl and she is a teacher.  She is a listener and a great shoulder to lean on.  I talked about my mistakes and my hopes and she reassured me that I was on the right path.  She has the sweetest speaking voice and I felt ok telling her my secrets.  She told me to keep going on my path because it was the right one.  I come from a land of hard work, kept words, home cooked meals, boat rides on the lake, ski trips on the mountain and a family of good stock.  I left Maine standing up straighter.

Cut to the Hurricane Irene. I mean don't believe the hype, at least where I was staying, in a sleepy suburban town just west of Boston.  I have never seen so many people excited and panicked for a pending "disaster". It was all over the news and two hours before it hit my mother swore that we would be in the basement hiding in a corner with bottled water and cheese and crackers.  With my family there is always food involved.  Anyway on the day of impending doom I slept late.  I opened the shade in my room and it was rainy and windy, I stared and watched the leaves fall to the ground for about an hour.  Everything was so green, it reminded me of when I trekked through the Costa Rican rainforest with a an ex-boyfriend and his family.  I saw banana leaves the size of me.  Well now I was in New England and totally loving the "chaos" that was about to ensue.  I told my mother that it was just going to be rainy and she cut me off quicly saying "the eye is going to hit a 2pm"  she breathed heavy delivering the news and I realized that this was the most excitement she had experienced in years.  When the "eye of the storm" finally came and went I put on my sneakers and my headphones and went for a walk.  It was absolutely beautiful.  Island weather.  It was tropical and the air smelled fresh.  I was so happy.  I looked into the lives of others, the whole scene, the gorgeous homes that I walk past with the SUV's, a mom, a dad, and 2.5 kids.  I will return to Los Angeles soon, and my life is about as far from this idyllic setting as you can get.  I'm excited to get back to business though and I am proud to call it my home now.   I will always be a Boston girl at heart and while I can, I enjoy my neighborhood walks here in New England.  I drink it in and take it back with me.

When I land on the west coast I will put my armor on for the hustle and bustle of it all.  The night before my flight I pay a visit to my Uncle Gerry and Auntie Ruth to say goodbye.  Before I leave my uncle tells me that he has something for me.  He goes upstairs to his room and pulls out a bible, it has been in his top drawer for over 30 years.  It belonged to my grandfather, the only father I ever knew and he kept it there ever since he passed.  It is tattered and worn and some of the pages are falling out.  I am overcome with love and I thank him.  I will cherish it forever.

Later on,  I turn to my favorite scripture, the one that says, "guard your heart and be wary of wolves in sheep's clothing."  I've always preferred Edward to Jacob anyway, at least with a vampire you know what you're getting and my oh my are they sexy.  Life really is about the choices you make.  I forgot to put sunblock on and I burnt my knees.  I chose to walk in the rain and came out on the other side in the sun.  When I board my flight to California my mother kisses me goodbye and says "the birds always sing after a storm."

Yes they do.

Who Knew?

I found myself on a soundstage today assisting a photographer/brilliant nerd shooting props for a pitch to do the main titles for a top TV show.  He is the husband of a friend and she was too tired to go, so I tagged along.  I couldn't keep my mouth shut.  "What about this angle?' and "How about this lighting?"  I wondered if he regretted the decision to take me along.  All he did was ask me about my novel, whether or not I was on my first draft or what have you.  He gave me the low down on the latest writing software and usually I tune out when it comes to that techie software but he explained it from the vantage point of an artist and I was sold.  On the drive home he explained the four minute car/death scene of Julianne Moore in Children of Men and again I was riveted, hanging on to his every word.  I don't surround myself with people that pay that much attention to detail, probably because I can barely pick up the clothes from my bedroom floor.   But  that's probably why he is one of the most in demand photographer/director's in town. He has won an Emmy, and that is what you need to do to win awards, pay attention to detail.  I have a lot to learn, yet he listened to me, welcomed my creativity.  It was pretty fabulous, I felt like I was bringing my vision to the table and it was  appreciated.

We arrived at Manhattan Beach studios around 5 o'clock.  These studios were built for David E. Kelley so he could work close to his home at the beach.  He's from Boston.  I'm from Boston.  I did a pilot for him once, but never met him.  Maybe someday we will meet.    My boss and I wanted to shoot outside, so we were racing against the sun.  I was my usually worrisome self, pushing him along to move at a faster pace, snapping at the security guard when it took 15 minutes to let us onto the lot.  The whole time, the man I was working for, kept his cool and didn't stress out once.  Is that the key to success?   Not stressing?  Anyway  I constantly looked at the sun going behind the clouds and I got anxiety.  His response as he set up two cameras, switched lenses and set up a monitor, "So are you obsessed with writing your novel?"  Why is he asking me this, the sun is going down!!  "I'm frustrated, I have writers block and I don't know how to end it."  "Ah, I see."  he responded.  "Visuals always help in that situation, have photos near the writing, or go to Gettyimages.com for inspiration/"  Oh my God, I rush too much, that's probably why I never get anywhere or get to where I want to go to at a rapid pace.

We were shooting the props for a TV show that I auditioned for last week.  I obviously didn't get the part.  They cast an African American Senator and his wife was African American as well.  Phew.  It had nothing to do with my acting ability.  I ran into my friends boyfriend,  he was cast as a series regular and was freaking out that I was there on set.  He looked different when I saw him.  He was wearing a suit and looked very handsome, I can see why my friend fell for him.  He was feverishly texting me to come visit him on set, I couldn't, I was loading camera equipment, I wish I could be that glamorous.

I learned so much today and I will continue it for days and days to come.  I love when I have to stop, look at the ground and wrap my head around the four thousand dollar lens that was just thrown on to my desk, that some genius has told me to put on his camera.  My hands shook, I was nervous, but I did it.  I will wake up again tomorrow and do it all again and probably learn about some other crazy film sequence in some film I've never seen.

Knowledge is power and it keeps the lights from getting shut off.

Grace

To do things with grace either comes naturally or with a lot of practice.  I've been told I'm a natural and thank God for it.  Grace is smiling and loving when you wander into uncharted territory knocking on doors that don't open.  It's knowing when to make your exit and knowing when to not look back.  Please and thank you are a given and kind words soothe the soul.  I've maintained grace when the floors were dirty and my music wasn't appreciated.  I rely on God's grace when I talk to him at night and I can't sleep.  He tells me to go when I don't want to and I listen.  In the end I am happy.  It took some meandering but it was worth it.  I let go and see where the next chapter takes me.

I read for a new TV show last week.  I did a decent job in the room, it had been a while so I was a little rusty.  In the end it's all about your confidence, can you pull off holding your own on a network television show.  My coach says I'll get my mojo back once I start playing the game more.  The casting director used to drink at the bar where I worked at years ago so we shared a laugh and were able to catch up.  Everyone I knew back in the day is coming up, it's so cool to see the fruits of people's labor.  The same thing happened when I auditioned on Friday for a big national commercial, the CD was one of my regular customers as well and we talked about all the characters that used to hang out at the Formosa.  We laughed.  It was nice, then I did my thing and it felt right.  It was fun.  I think this is how it's supposed to be.

The shift in perspective has been extraordinary.  It doesn't have to be so grim all the time.  I had lunch on a balcony overlooking the beach in Malibu today.  It was special and beautiful, a slice of the world that I had never seen before.  The West Coast is truly spectacular and on that note I will fly east next week.  I will travel to Massachusetts, Maine and New York.  I cannot wait.  I'm turning the pages in a frenzy, peeking at the next chapter and it looks delicious.

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Morning Glory

I rolled over and slowly opened my eyes.  The sunlight was peeking through my blinds and it looked like it was going to be a hot day.   I realized that 6 in the morning is one of my favorite times of the day if I can manage to get my ass out of bed.  I'm usually only up at that time if I have a call time for an acting job, otherwise I can't be bothered.  Magical things seem to happen though when I start my day at the break of dawn and I think it may be God's way of saying "get with the program girl."  The morning light is very flattering, rich with a sepia tone and there are almost sparkles floating in the air.  The vibe is fresh with beginnings and I, for sure, am definitely moving in slow motion.  I usually can't articulate a sentence before 11am, so I just go through the motions, nodding and grunting if I have to.

This morning I had to be at the Art Center of Pasadena, it rests on top of a hill and the views are breathtaking.  I found a quick route, it took me 30 minutes and my Pink CD and coffee were my carpool buddies, they made the journey better.  I threw on a dress, didn't brush my hair and had not a stitch of makeup on.  I pulled into the parking lot 10 minutes early, the students were buzzing about and I was still amazed that anyone could have that energy before 8am.  I parked, grabbed my purse, checked into the model office and found the classroom I had to be in.  Today is a figure drawing class and I am draped in a white sheet.  The teacher was late so I found the cafeteria, still stumbling like a zombie, I ordered eggs and sausage, it cost 2 bucks, ahh student life.  I felt normal as I sat down and ate a decent breakfast, I asked a girl with blue hair for the wireless password and I was in business.  When I got back to the classroom the teacher still wasn't there which meant I didn't have to hit my mark yet.  The students were gathered around with their easels, waiting eagerly and I felt guilty, I should probably do the right thing and start without the teacher.  I hadn't really noticed my surroundings yet and was just getting from point A to point B.  I messed around with the props and stands on the miniature stage and I set everything where I wanted it.  My back was to the students and I turned around to ask them how they started class?, how many poses?, the length of them? blah, blah, blah.  When I looked up I was snapped into the reality of my situation, there was the most beautiful young man sitting smack dab in front of me.  He was about 23 years old, long hair, scruffy, puffy morning eyes, brown, I have always loved brown eyes and looked like he just walked out of a  Bernardo Bertolucci movie.  "You can start with 5 poses, 5 minutes each." he said.  It was as if the room was spinning and he was the only face that I saw.  My cheeks started to go red and I was worried that I may have missed a spot when I shaved with my eyes closed in the shower.  He never broke his gaze and I had to take my clothes off in front of him.  Thank God, the class was focusing on drawing with fabric draped on me so I  could strategically cover my jiggly bits.

I picked up my phone and set my timer, I looked at him and he was still staring.  I turned around and slid my  dress off my shoulders, grabbed the white sheet, got it ready, let my dress fall to the ground and wrapped the sheet around me quickly.  He was already sketching and my heart was pounding, I wondered if he could hear it.  I took a deep breath and settled into the pose.  I glanced down at his pad and he was good, he drew me beautifully and now I was inspired.  When my timer went off, I dropped the sheet to the floor, laid on on my side resting on my arm and stared right at him.  He ripped a page off threw it down and started another sketch.  It was on.  I watched him as he drew, he didn't notice because he was working so I could really see him.  He tilted his head to the side and his lips made a slight pout when he shifted his pencil on the pad, switching his focus to a different part of my body.  His hair would fall over one eye and he would put it behind his ear.   My timer went off again, I changed the pose and he looked at my face, I turned away and adjusted into a comfortable position and the dance would start all over again.  The connection was sweet and it was real.

This sure beat the "rolls in the hay" my Hollywood girlfriends would tell me about.  How boring.  This was my version of a one night stand that I never had.  When the class was over, I gathered my things.  He was standing by the door and I had to walk by him.  I awkwardly put my sunglasses on my head and slung my purse over my shoulder.  I rubbed the rest of the morning from my eyes, probably because I was nervous and needed something to do.  He zipped up his bag and turned around just as I got to the door.  "Bye", he said.

"Goodbye", I smiled and grabbed the doorknob, never looking back.  I will probably never see him again.   I giggled to myself and thought I need to get up early more often.  This morning is etched into my brain like an old black and white movie reminding me of what life is all about.

LOVE.