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Okay, that’s it!

I am hereby declaring WAR on all of this farkakteh spam invading my comments space.
I may not have a lot of readers, but I’ll be damned if I have to pick on one more ad for a used motorcycle for sale!!

He had it Comin’!

You know, ever since I became a mommy, I’ve said that inside each and every mother is a warrior.

An assassin.

But I think Girlfriend took it to a whole new level.

Now, please don’t mistake me. This is a bit… extreme.

However, I don’t know the cultural customs of Turkey. So, it’s very possible she could have ended up being under attack by the public as well as by her assailant upon the birth of her child.

She wanted to not have the child at all, but since that’s illegal in Turkey, it wasn’t likely to happen.

And she was still facing abuse from her rapist in both physical and psychological form.

She definitely seemed to be in a “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t” situation.

So, like any mother wanting to protect herself and her child, she took extreme action. Really extreme.

She shot him 10 times, stabbed him repeatedly and then decapitated dude! She went O-ren Ishii on his ass!

I don’t want to condone violence, but for her rapist to continue torturing her, threatening her, knowing he would never face punishment… He rapes the woman, impregnantes her and threatens to destroy her honor and reputation by telling her family, showing them photos of her.

Not to sound callous, but he kind of asked for that.

And I don’t agree with her reasoning for it, but she really earned the title of “Badass Mother” today!

Object Lesson

So, once again I’ve been away from my computer too much.

But all day rehearsals, tech and opening weekend will do that to a girl.

When I found myself passed out on my couch at 8:30 at night, I knew blogging was just not happening.

But now, with my return to the screen, I was greeted with the greatest nugget of “duh” I’ve seen in a long time.

Ladies and Gentlemen, drumroll please…

I present to you, The return of…

DUMBASS OF THE WEEK (WEEK, WEEK, WEEK)!!!

So, I have a friend who’s a playwright.

He’s also a producer, a critic and a general joy to be around.

I’ve done several of his plays and seen even more.

He’s neither rich nor famous, but he is well known in local theater circles.

His most recent play has just closed, and for SOME reason, a guy who originally auditioned for the show (and didn’t get in) contacted him on Twitter. Normally, this is not a big deal, but This Guy decided to do the ONE thing any experienced actor, director, acting teacher, agent, manager or really, anyone with a modicum of common sense would not do.

He trolled him, with the smell of sour grapes emanating from the keyboard. 

He opened the conversation by thanking him for NOT casting him in his show.

After which, he exhibited pretty much every poor decision you could make.

For example…

1) If you want to complain about not being cast, feel free… when you’re at home… with your friends. You never say that crap in front of the playwright, director, casting agent, booker. You just don’t do it.

Moreover, you don’t say this to the director, follow it up with a personal attack and tack on “Peace and Love” and expect anyone to believe you do this out of anything but spite.

2) There is a word that as an actor, you don’t EVER want attached to your name and resume: UNPROFESSIONAL.

It is a kiss of death. For some, it is unwarranted. Others, it’s steeped in rumor and conjecture and can’t really be proven. But then there are those who make such a big show of their unprofessionalism, who gain the reputation of a jerk, either through testimonials that follow them over the years or, if they do it all in one huge gesture of dumb. Putting your unprofessionalism in writing, for example, on a social network for all the world to see. Yeah, that’ll get UNPROFESSIONAL stamped right on you. And once there, it is HARD to wash the stink of that off.

3) There is a universal truth best expressed by Disney: It’s a Small World After All.

The world, whether we believe it or not, is rather small.

The theatre world? Even smaller.

The theatre world outside of Broadway? While densely populated, is infinitesimal.

This guy displayed a complete lack of understanding that word spreads. A lot. Really, really, freaking fast. Especially when you do something in a public forum, like for example, Twitter!! You came on to HIS page, insulted him, called him names, put down his work and then told him that HE can’t let it go? Really? You just told so many people how difficult it will be to work with you. And they will tell two friends, and so on, and so on…

But mostly…

4) This playwright you took to task has taken more hits than you will ever know. He has been through reviews and rejections and who knows what else and has kept going and kept writing through everything. He actually has the hide of a rhinoceros, and the heart of a lion. And while doling out your clever “bon mots”, you assumed that no one this playwright knew would take up the torch for him and spread the word of your behavior.

Oh, Peaches…

In the immortal words of Edward Norton, “You just f*cked with the wrong rhino.”

You see, he has lots of people very willing to go to bat for him.

In fact, your behavior was so heinous, it’s gone beyond his reach. People who have never met him and know nothing about him are now using your Twitter convo as the ultimate actor’s cautionary tale.

“When you don’t get a part in a show, don’t be THIS guy.”

Nice going, sunshine.

Now, casting directors will know just where to file your headshot.

In the circular file, under “D.”

… And Pose!

Reason #4,297 why I love living in New York:

After dropping off my son at school, I took a Vogueing class.

With the man, himself, Benny Ninja!

Top Model fans, eat your hearts out!

Top Model fans, eat your hearts out!

LOVED HIM!!

Talk about personable! Of course, it helped that we only had 6 girls in the class.

We were taught some basic points of vogueing and how to make it yours. When am I ever going to need this? Who Cares?! I had a lesson with Benny Ninja!

And then, I got to pose with him in a picture. Of course, he looked amazing. I think I just might go for more classes before I’m done. I also took a Theater dance class later. Oh, my feet are mad at me. I imagine the rest of my body will punish me tomorrow.

But, I need to get my dancing legs back.

Finally got a new show happening!

More to come.

It’s like I never left.

Brother.

I’m getting real tired of seeing the inside of my eyelids.

Could someone please find his Grindr account and get this over with?!

Bad idea/ Good idea

There are some people in the world who have too much time on their hands and create havoc like the putz who did this.

And there are some people in the world who have too much time on their hands and create GENIUS!!

Just a thought.

Let’s chill!

Today is the first day in a very long time that I’ve had the chance to sit down and actually… sit. Not sit and formulate and plan and organize. Just. sit.

I’m taking a break. After the past few weeks, my show has opened, my son has had his birthday party (he’s 5!). This is my mid-holiday season rest period, my exhale. Tomorrow, the Christmas-Hanukkah preparation begins. Christmas cards, Holiday pictures, baking, decorations. I love it all, but there’s been a lot of stress in my everyday, lately. Stress, let’s just leave it at that.

Yesterday, we had my little man’s birthday party. Six boys tearing up my house, having a grand, old space-themed time!! Then I had to run out and do a show for two hours. Oh, I earned my ice cream, thank you very much.

I’ve noticed I’ve been reflecting a lot on the past 5 years. Looking at old pictures, watching old clips of my little man go from a chubby little baby to a lanky big boy and it brings tears to my eyes.
He’s my heart. And going through the stress of the holidays, I’ll take it. Because watching my boy smile and say to everyone, “Merry Christmas!” as he helps mommy frost cookies, is everything to me.

Here we go again

So, I had my first day of rehearsal Wednesday.
I’m in a new play by a friend of mine, Nicholas Santasier. It’s called NOTCHES.You heard me, people. As in bedpost. The whole show’s about the dating scene in our fair city, complete with a cast of characters you’ll find disturbingly familiar.

Anyway, that afternoon I prepared my Little Man and myself for the journey.
See, in addition to my performance schedule, my husband is an improv man. It’s what he does. I like to stick to a script. We play to our strengths.
And he’s recently been cast on a house team at the PIT. Basically, that means he performs with his team once a week and we have to find a way around conflicts.

So, I washed the dishes and gave Little Man a snack (and a little something for myself) before getting him dressed and me packed to head out. Jason’s show was at 7:00 and ended at 7:30. I needed to be at rehearsal at 8:00. His show is at the PIT on the East Side of town. My rehearsal? West Side. Of course it is!!

I hauled us off to the N train, and switched over to the 6, landing us right on 23rd St. Perfect! I stop off to find a place where Little Guy can get a bathroom break and a cookie and some milk for the road before getting to Daddy for “the hand-off”. It’s all about the timing.

I waited two minutes outside the PIT (because, well pre-schooler in dimly-lit bar… I do have standards) until Jason came out. There, we kissed and hugged and Jason scooped up Little Man and I said, “He’s had cookies. He should be fine,” said goodbye and hauled myself off to the West Side.

Guess what? After rushing there, they hadn’t gotten to my entrance yet, so my hurrying was (almost) all for naught.
Such is the life.

Breakin’ up the Ol’ Gang

When I first became a mommy, I was completely unaware of the loneliness.

In no time at all, in between changes, feedings, tummy time, etc., you realize that you want to talk to someone. You really want to talk to anyone over 21.

That is why the Good Lord invented play groups.

Your babies can get together and “play” with each other, yeah, yeah, yeah.

The real reason they were created was so that mommies could congregate and commiserate for an hour or so before going back into your binky-ridden house, alone.

One of the mommies I knew from post-natal yoga, in her infinite wisdom, organized a play group in her church. It got pretty popular pretty quickly. The babies got to play and interact (i.e. play adjacent to each other, with the occasional toy snatching thrown in) with each other, while the mommies (or daddies) had a little adult interaction of their own.

But now, it seems a pattern is developing.

A year and a half ago, the mommy who organized it had to leave the church for missionary work. But she left the group in the capable hands of a good friend.

I just got news that the good friend is packing up her family and heading down to Louisiana.

I hate this idea. Mind you, it’s for completely selfish reasons. I have nothing against Louisiana itself and logically, it makes sense. The grandparents live in the area and can help her when she needs it. I can’t blame her for that. It’s just that, if she’s down there, she can’t be up here and that… eh sucks.

And another mommy friend (who happens to specialize in baked goods) is thinking about following suit and heading South, too.

And there’s a possibility that we’ll lose the play group in the process, which REALLY sucks.

Now, I’m not delusional. I know that New York changes all of the time and I never expected all of our kids to grow up together. Heck, my Little Man’s four now and soon, they’ll probably have to shoo him out of the group for being too old. It’s the Menudo principle.

Like I said, it’s totally selfish. I’ve grown to know these women and share with them. And a lot of us have already moved away. To lose those last few ties would be really rough for me. Of course, I can always find a new group, but it takes a while to form those bonds.

To see if your kids can play together without it turning into a Gymboree free-for-all.

To know that this person will watch your child just as cautiously as they watch their own.

To have the other mommy take one look at you and know if you need them to just take the baby to give your arms a break, a cup of coffee and a seat or a chardonnay and an ear to bend.

I’ve watched their kids hug my kid, for no other reason than they’ve been around each other since they were babies and they have that trust with each other. I’ve watched our boys and girls giggle together and make those first attempts at contact. I’ve watched them cry and try to comfort whomever is mourning the recent loss of their cookie. I’ve watched them chase after each other, endlessly, without knowing why and having the time of their lives.

But see, while that was happening, we got to be friends, too. We’ve had birthday parties together and cleaned up spills and watched each other’s kids while the other mommy made a quick dash to the bathroom for an uninterrupted pee. (Trust me, as a mom, you cherish those things.)

And now, there’s an expiration date on those things. On the memories, on the support, all of it. And I will miss it. I do miss it. The moms that I hear from in Florida, Alabama, New Jersey, Virginia, Romania… I miss them all.

And when I miss people and babies and moments in time, as ridiculous as it sounds, my pangs of regret are best echoed by Avenue Q, of all things.

I wish I had taken more pictures.

So, my little guy and I have spent the past three days stuck inside the house.
The rain makes few things conducive.
He started getting a little restless yesterday, but I think he’ll pull through, especially with a visit from Grandma today.

So, today I have an audition (thus, the Grandma visit).
It’s for a movie. An independent movie and I have never been on an audition for that. I’m doing all of the usual audition stuff: packing up my headshot, fussing over my clothes, my hair, etc. But I’m one of those lame people who have never taken a course in camera acting, so this could end up a pleasant surprise for me or a HOT mess for the director. (make sure you hit the D# when you say “HOT”)

I’m also in the process of scheduling times for our band (you remember, the Icky House Club?) to perform. The boys are itchin’ to get back on a stage, so it’s my job to find it.
This’ll be fun.

All right kids, I’m off to find an outfit, feed my preschooler and make some semblance of order of my life. Toodles!