28 February, 2009



"Life is not perfect. It never will be. You just have to make the very best of it. And you have to open your heart to what the world can show you. And sometimes it's terrifying. And sometimes it's incredibly beautiful. And I'll take both, thanks."

24 February, 2009


When you're chatting with someone online - particularly on what I like to call the FaceChat - and you can see their little "writing bubble" at the bottom, in the corner there... and then you don't see it anymore... and then you do see it again for a moment... but then they stop again...

Does that drive you as crazy as it drives me? Doesn't it make you wonder, "What is it?! What did you almost write?"


Rotary phones, trips to the bank, cell phones, Internet crashes, New York to California in 5 hours...

THIS CLIP of Louis CK is hilarious. And true. Take a break for 4 minutes and just watch.

23 February, 2009


I wanted to write to you before reading any reviews and while I still have all these wonderful thoughts about THIS BEAUTIFUL CITY in my head. I am so proud to be associated (even from the sidelines) with a theatre company that is willing to take the risk of producing such bold, thought-provoking, non-conventional, passionate art. This piece speaks to all the things that make me continuously fall in love with theatre over and over again: the ability to push the envelope & present opposing viewpoints & remain non-judgmental & delve into humanity & create art out of life.

I brought two friends with me to the opening - a devout Christian, and a native of Colorado. It was amazing how varied and passionate our reactions were to the show. Our deep debates about the play started at intermission and lasted long into the night. As someone who is constantly exploring my own faith, I found THIS BEAUTIFUL CITY to be inspiring and heartbreaking, and encouraging and sad, and joyful. I was very moved - particularly by the final few moments and the last song, which was hopeful and yet offered no right or wrong answer. It made me think. It made me argue. It made me laugh. It made me want to see it again.

To be able to create a piece about something that has so defined a particular community - and to objectively present that piece in a way that is entertaining and challenging and theatrical is what most impresses me about The Civilians. To pour your heart and soul (which I know you do!) into that production - every production - and to be a fertile ground for its growth is what has always impressed me about The Vineyard.

22 February, 2009


Tonight I'll be seeing this show at The Vineyard with two of my friends. One is an extremely devout Christian (who may possibly be offended by the play). One is actually from Colorado Springs (where this play takes place). I'm extremely interested in seeing the reactions. Will they like it? Will they judge it? Will they enjoy each other? Will there be sparks of deep discussion? Will we be too shy to speak our minds? Will we be PC? This is one of the things I love most about theatre... the possibilities!

21 February, 2009


A picture of the current state of my desk.
And the coffee that's helping me get through it at 9:10pm on a Saturday night.

Yes it is Saturday.
Yes it is 9:10pm.
Yes I am still at work.
Yes I am taking a break from the madness
to share this blog with you.
Yes it will get better.


20 February, 2009


Having pancakes and coffee at the Edison is such a warm, wonderful way to start your Friday - especially on such a cold & blustery day in New York! Having a kind person sit across from you, telling funny stories and making you feel good is an added bonus... icing on the pancakes, if you will.

18 February, 2009


Oh, how I wish there was a Dairy Queen near my house... or heck - I'd even settle for one somewhere on the island of Manhattan!


In high school, my choir teacher used to talk about "ownership" almost more often than she talked about music. The phrase "taking ownership" was used for everything from learning to hold your own part, to showing up on time and prepared, to rehearsing outside of school, to presenting yourself as an adult in concert settings...

I used that phrase today when talking to a core group of people at work - and I remembered how much it meant to me when my choir teacher used to say it - and I hope that the meaning and the significance was passed on to these colleagues. To me, when given ownership over something (or when asked to take ownership) meant that trust was being placed in you - and living up to that trust was not only something you did for the person endowing the trust, but also something you did for yourself because you had accepted the ownership.

It was somehow more powerful than "responsibility" as that only implied being responsible to someone else. OWNERSHIP really reached down into your gut and asked you to live up to the highest potential that was inside of you. It always brought out the best in me - and I hope it will bring out the best in them.


I've been feeling "in the weeds" lately at work. I even hear myself saying to other people, "As soon as I get outta the weeds..." (I often don't even finish the sentence because it seems like the weeds are so high some days that I'm not sure I will ever find my way out!)

But then I found this picture - and I thought it looked quite peaceful to be in the weeds. Perhaps I just need to adjust my thinking and keep this image in my head.


A shout out to my beautiful friend who treated me to a holistic Body/Spirit Adjustment (BSA) on Monday. I'm happy to report that my muscles were sore the day after from the deep massaging, my spirit was elevated to a place it hasn't been in a few weeks, my intentions were focused and made clearer, and weight that I wasn't even fully aware of was lifted from my shoulders. I thank him for his guided practice. And I'll give his number (and a glowing recommendation) to anyone who wants it!

16 February, 2009


This special on the local morning news program highlights my high school & makes me incredibly proud - not only to have gone there and experienced an amazing educational setting, but also to know that it's still thriving a decade later. Go FHS!


Although this is a friend of mine from college, I didn't even know that A) he was in the city and B) he saw the show at my theatre and C) that he loved it... until I saw this on his Facebook page.
This makes me so happy.

Eric Hersh says if you are looking for great theatre - DISTRACTED with Cynthia Nixon is amazing!

15 February, 2009


Sarah Sloboda's 7 Points of Optimism (to read the full entry, click here and go to her blog, University of Sarah). Thanks for these incredible reminders, Sarah!

1) Appreciating things as they Are.
Recognizing that nothing needs to change for me to be happy in this moment.

2) Finding the "Awe."
Once I see how things are, I can find ONE thing wonderful in this moment, exactly as it is.

3) Experiential Immersion.
Allow myself to bask in the "awe" feeling I have discovered in the now. To feel fully, all through my body, the wonder of this moment I am experiencing.

4) Relishing.
Jotting down the thought, calling a friend and sharing, taking a picture. Making the awe of this moment somehow go beyond this moment. (This creates expansion of the "awe.")

5) Self-discovery.
Recognizing my role in this experience - that the reason this moment could be relished was because I took the time to engage in it.

6) Honoring my Value.
Appreciating the role I have played, and thanking myself for allowing the true wonder of this experience to flow through me. In relishing it, I have expanded it for myself and others.

7) Make space for Creativity.
My call to interpret the moment beautifully is innate. All I had to do was make the space for it, and it appeared.

10 February, 2009


You know what happens when you assume... (ass, u + me).

Been thinking recently about all of the times during this past week that I made assumptions before actually learning all the facts. And how many times people make assumptions about me.

I've assumed (incorrectly - which is how most assumptions turn out!) that a thick New York accent means you're not that bright. That being a pesce-tarian would be difficult. That having that drink with a clown would be a once-in-a-lifetime moment. That I could survive on less than 5 hours of sleep a night.

And people have assumed about me that I was "the help". That I was a budding stage manager and should send my resume to them if I ever needed a job. That I was 26. That I must've at least tried smoking, at least once. That I was 35. That I could be in two places at once.


This past Monday I spent a lovely dozen hours at the annual gala for Vineyard Theatre, celebrating the always elegant Marian Seldes and honoring the Union Square Partnership. Not only was the gala held in the amazing (and soon-to-be-closing) Rainbow Room, but I also got to schmooze with the likes of her and her and this clown and these folks and this guy...

And I got to wear a fancy dress, and take in that beautiful view, and walk Marian Seldes to the bathroom, and raid the gift bags, and help out a theatre that I love, and stare at the purple ESB, and listen to some great performances, and be on headset for the show, and get yelled at by a certain producer (who was wearing tennis shoes to a gala), and witness said producer apologize to the performers behind me for them having to see her yell at "the help", and give my card to people, and reconnect with old friends, and make new ones, and eat the left over chocolate covered strawberries.

But the best part of the night probably came after it was all over, when I spent a surreal hour at an Irish Pub with a man I have always held in high esteem - while we discussed the simplicities and challenges of this crazy thing called life.


Remembering a scene from one of my favorite episodes. Have seen it dozens of times - still cracks me up.

08 February, 2009


Working on the annual gala at the Rainbow Room.
It'll be a long day, but at least I'll get to have a great view.
Once a Vineyard employee, always a Vineyard employee.

05 February, 2009


Having an odd facination with Eminem. And this song in particular. Maybe because I've heard it a dozen times today...

04 February, 2009


I forget how reliant I've come to be on the World Wide Web. And not just me - everyone. We've been having wireless internet problems at the theatre - and people have said things like "If it wasn't for my iPhone, I don't know how I would've gotten those work notes done." Which makes me stop and think, "Theatre has been around for MUCH longer than the internet - so people MUST have been able to, at one time, get their work notes done without the assistance of the World Wide Web." I mean, right? We've come to rely on it so much that without it we don't seem to know how to function properly. And at the same time, I love it and find myself similarly frustrated by it's absence.


A tiny splinter in the palm of my hand gave me a soreness there all day long. Sometimes I am amazed that something so small and seemingly insignificant (ooh - what lovely alliteration!) can hurt so much.