Money, exercise, and coincidence

I've had the same financial advisor, someone who looks over my retirement fund, for years now. But I never talk to him on a regular basis. I've never had to. Recently, I called to ask him for some advice and he stated that coincidentally, he wanted to talk to me in person about my finances. So, we made an appointment and I saw him in person for the first time in at least two years. At the end our meeting I felt very reassured about our professional relationship and the current and future state of my money, and we agreed that it would be best to have another meeting in a few weeks. Seven hours later I am at the gym adjusting my stationery bike at spinning class when who is sitting on the bike across from me...Mr. Financial Advisor himself! I didn't even know we went to the same gym. I thought it was so odd that I saw him twice in one day and I couldn't help but take it as a positive sign. Then we settled into exercise mode, which was awkward because I was directly facing him, and didn't want him to think I was "watching" him. You know how it's easier to look blankly at strangers? Yeah; awkward.

I'm taking my first hip-hop class tomorrow! Well, not my first hip-hop class ever. I'd taken one at the gym but it wasn't challenging enough. This one is at the dance center where it'll be more hardcore. Excited! Stay tuned.

"TV's Eileen" to you

Whilst vacationing in Florida, my episode of a TV show aired. Immediately afterward, my "publicist" Daniel went right to work. Whenever we went to sightsee somewhere he called ahead to make sure that gawkers and autograph-hounds were far from the vicinity. "TV's Eileen would really like to be able to shop in private. Can you please close the store to the public? She will be happy to take as many pictures as needed to show her appreciation." He would send decoys to foil the paparazzi. He personally approved our co-snorkeling buddies, and made sure that security men dressed as locals secured the area around where our boat docked. Daniel worked hard for his thirteen dollars. Florida would've been such a hassle without him.

But seriously folks, my pal Shari was kind enough to take these screen shots of my recent brief appearance on Law & Order: Criminal Intent. And if you click here and then on Featured Video, you can watch the scene represented below.

Enjoy. But don't bother me or I'll have to build a wall around my estate. :0)



(for whenever my video is no longer the Featured Video, simply search for the two-minute replay of the episode Privilege from Season 6.)

Lowest man on totem pole

An agent I work with does most of his business transactions over e-mail. Yesterday I got one from him stating that I had a print ad casting (known as a "go-see") for today for a major hotel chain. The e-mail had the usual things one needs to know like the date, time, location, and just as importantly, what they'd generally like you to wear. Usually they say to dress "nice casual," "upscale casual," "business," "upscale business," etc. Sometimes it's more specific. Yesterday's e-mail ended with, word for word, "Please wear a dress with the back side open - also wear a bikini underneath the dress (preferably skin color) - they will shoot your back..."

The first thing I thought was, "A dress with a plunging back but with a bikini underneath that? That would look tacky, wouldn't it?" The second thing I thought was, "I have neither a dress with a plunging back nor a nude-colored bikini. Also, this is more energy than I want to be spending on this, my head hurts and I don't wanna go." So, I thought I'd at least clarify. I wrote the agent back with the following, again word for word:

"Can you explain that again, what we have to wear?
I don't know that I have an open-back dress.
I do have an open-back one-piece bathing suit
But I don't know if that applies.
I'm confused."

And he writes back:

"You have to wear both - bikini and a dress over it showing your back.."

Which clarified nothing. So, I asked him if I should wing it and he said yes. I spent yesterday evening feeling hopeless about it until I re-read the instructions and realized that they could mean that as long as the dress had a zipper up the back, it could be open. So, I put a zip-back cocktail dress with a nice red lining, some dress shoes, and two different bikinis in a garment bag. I even tried on my one-piece "backless" swimsuit underneath the cocktail dress and it was well hidden, although I could not imagine anyone asking me to wear both simultaneously and felt rather silly.

So today, I awoke to the coldest day in New York City in two years. My clock radio woke me up saying, "It's nine degrees out there!" I put on my one-piece swimsuit underneath four layers of clothing and trudged downtown to the studio. I decided to go there early for the sole purpose of giving myself time to ask for clarification and then change somewhere. I didn't know whether to expect a zoo of people or not.

Well, the people at the casting session had no idea what I was talking about with shooting my back, or a dress, or what have you. They did want a bikini. But they wanted a bikini underneath something nice and casual, and shot pictures of me in my jeans and thermal shirt (had I anticipated this I would've at least worn a form-fitting shirt or sweater!!!), and then in my jeans and bikini top. That's it. No other melodrama. Zilch. Nada. Zip it; that's all she wrote. I literally spent more time changing in and out of my clothes than taking the pictures.

I bumped into a friend there and was talking about how I brought a garment bag full of things for nothing, when I could sense another lady waiting there getting angrier as she stood around in her very lovely black cocktail dress. We have the same agent. She couldn't wait to chew him out when it was over.

Glamorous? You be the judge.

Let's go on with the show

My office building is in the heart of the theater district. Two Broadway theaters are on the same block, and my building faces a Catholic church (pictured here). A few years ago the church began a very kitschy (and to me, a little disturbing) routine. A half-hour before what is commonly known in the business as "curtain," which is usually 8 PM, so on the dot at 7:30 (and 1:30 on matinee days), the church bells play "There's No Business Like Show Business." And they don't just play one chorus. They play two. My job consists of listening to tapes on headphones and transcribing what I hear, and the bells are quite loud so whenever it starts, it's very intrusive. I get more than a little annoyed. My co-workers and I make fun of the bells' slightly off-pitchy tone. Then we have to wait (im)patiently for it to end before resuming work. *sigh*

We'll never know

For some reason
It is very common in Key West
To see chickens and roosters
Roaming free on the streets
Whilst you shop and go about your day.

My friends and I came face-to-face
With existentialism itself when
We watched one chicken
Scurry across the road
Making sure to not be hit
By cars.

The chicken crossed the road.

"Why?" I kept asking it.
"Why are you doing this?"
But he did not answer.
He had somewhere to be.

Back pocket

Things go swimmingly
Until they don't.
"Things have changed.
Alas, this must end."
Someone will hurt
But it must be said
Especially where Love
Is concerned.

Things went swimmingly
Until they didn't.
"I am in pain.
You cannot help me.
I don't want to lose you.
Maybe I'll come around
In a few months."

In a few months?!
But now it's clear.

Things went swimmingly
Until they went so swimmingly
That someone had to choose
Between two.
But instead of letting one go,
Opened up one's
Big, fat, gigantic

Back pocket

And hoped that I
Would fall in
And keep the hope alive
In case, in a few months,
Things are not going swimmingly
And the back pocket
Is nice and warm
With the waiting affection
Of a familiar love.

The rent is too high
In the back pocket.
I had to find a way
To live somewhere else
When I didn't want to move.
But I refuse to harden my heart.

I will fall in love anew tomorrow
And enjoy the view from the front
Where I belong.

Best slice in NYC

Okay, just 'cause I can't take it anymore
And must shout it from the rooftops,
The best pizza-by-the-slice in my opinion
Can be found at Pizza Pete's
On Columbus Ave.
Between 85th and 86th Sts.
In Manhattan.
I haven't yet had a slice
With a single topping on it
Because the regular cheese slice
Is so scrumptious.
The thin crust is perfectly crunchy
The sauce is delicious
And the cheese is the right amount.
Today I just discovered their
Two-slice-and-a-soda $4 deal.
Okay, enough.
Just go.

And a seven and a...

When I was six years old I ate, drank, and breathed in all the movie musicals with tap dancers like Shirley Temple, Ann Miller, and Gene Kelly. After no doubt one too many hours stomping around aimlessly on the kitchen "tile" (we didn't have much of a kitchen; this was New York City after all), my mom announced to me that she was taking me to tap class.

You'd think I'd be ecstatic.

Except I was so shy.

So I totally dreaded it.

What? Tap class! Can't I just jump around in my good shoes in the kitchen forever? What's this being around other people crap?!

But take me to tap class she did.

And guess who loved it.
Loved it, loved it, loved it.

All these years later, I've had an on-and-off relationship with tap.
Lately it's been "off."
Although the passion was still there.
Two nights ago in the subway station a lady hoofer and a percussionist were going at it, he on the conga, she on a wooden slab. And I knew immediately that it was a sign.

I just came from my first tap class in years.
And it was fun.
I went from being all "shy" in the back of the room
To the confident one in the front.
Seven years old again!
My friend Michael already nicknamed me:
Lady Hoofer, based on my subway inspiration.

Lady Hoofer's back, y'all.

Good riddance

Maybe one day in your lifetime you'll understand:

How excited I was
How hopeful I was
How seriously I took it
How smart I was trying to be
How far I fell
How manipulative you seemed
How unfair it felt
How inconsiderate you seemed
How childish it looked
How cruel it felt
How hurtful it was

Then again, maybe you won't.

Things I did on vacation

Played badminton in a swimming pool
Fed water through a hose to a real-live manatee
Fried bacon (very well, apparently)
Ate meals in a screened-in veranda
Sometimes when I wasn't very hungry
Watched myself on television
Played a drinking game during said show
Jogged around the neighborhood
To seeming envy of neighbors
("I should be doing that!"
"Don't worry! I hate it!")
Watched others fish
Ate fresh fish
Adored next-door cat
Who adopted us
Snorkeled in cold water
(first wet suit!)
Learned how to make sweet tea
Chopped vegetables
Did laundry
Drank coffee by the pool
Played Uno
Worked on jigsaw puzzles
Drew a picture
("Insta-Cartoon Kit")
Laid out on the beach
Got shat on by a seagull
(it looked like semen...?!)
Visited Hemingway's house
Saw his six-toed cats
Visited the "southernmost" everything
Even if they weren't
Played "Truth or Truthier"
Read Michael J. Fox's book
Lived in the moment
Thought nothing about my life at home
Worried about none of the usual things
Hardly talked to anyone on the phone
Understood what it meant to
Get away from all that stuff

Leaving on a Jet (Blue) plane

I'll tell the Florida Keys you said hello.

Playless

It just hit me like a ton of bricks: I hadn't done a play in over a year. That's so weird! I'd done two in '05 and at least one in '04 that I can think of off-hand. I guess I didn't miss it because the live corporate gigs I did last year was satisfying enough to not miss doing a full-length play. But as I sit here contemplating participating in an anniversary show for a theater company, I find myself thinking, "Well, as ambivalent as you are, it'll be good to do something, to rehearse for and do something, anything, and it'll probably be musical, and you hardly sing anymore, and when was the last time you did a play anyway?" It's weird. I'm overdue. So, I'm gonna sit in the sun all next week and contemplate this.

Quick plug

Law. Order.
Criminal Intent.
This Tuesday,
January 9th
Nine PM
On NBC.
"Helena Arcenas,"
Yours truly.
D'onofrio. Erbe.
Doris Roberts,
Family matriarch.
Rich people.
Murder, greed,
Mystery, intrigue.

Hero

So, a guy named Wesley Autrey was on subway platform with his two young daughters when a fellow passenger went into some sort of medical, epileptic fit. When it seemed to go away, he then went into another one, and fell onto the train tracks. Autrey decided to go in there after him to try to lift him out, but the epileptic dude was fighting him. Suddenly the train was coming, so Autrey jammed himself and epileptic dude into a one-foot-ish clearance inside the train track, so that when the train came it wouldn't crush them to death. And it WORKED. It worked! They are both alive and with all their limbs. Miracle of miracles.

New York Times article here.