The show last Friday on City Island turned out very well.The people who run The Artist make me feel so
welcome and appreciated.It’s a great
way to start the evening.
My buddy Bob and friend Ilona drove me to the place.Otherwise it would have been a 3-bus,
stress-filled trip.
I was honored to be joined by these folks: Joanne Filan, Jose Angel Diaz, and Leighann Lord.
Plus, we had a Columbia Journalism student, Isabel,
interviewing and taping Leighann Lord and Joanne Filan for a documentary she is
doing for school.
I was very honored by surprise gifts sent to me at the place –
an amazing bouquet with vase, water, and flower food plus a bottle of
champagne.The flowers live longer in my
house than the champagne.Lilies are
still opening and making me smile whenever I walk past the bouquet.The person who sent them told me she couldn’t
be at the show but would be there in spirit with a cocktail in her hand and a
smile on her face.She did more than
that.It was amazing.I’m not used to the royal treatment.It feels good.I should get used to it.
Audience members teased that it was from a man.I announced, “Actually, it’s from a woman.”
After the show and the hugs (yes, I hugged people!), my
friends Judy and Steven and I went to a nearby bar at their outdoor
seating.The weather was perfect.We hardly get to hang out together, so it was
a treat.To our surprise, many people we
don’t know came over to us to talk about all kinds of things.One yelled from across the street to a man
outside the bar about a woman who left the bar, “She wanted to s—k your d—k!”Then he saw my bouquet and us and came over
to apologize for his language and went on and on about how he loves his mother,
etc., etc.More things like that went
on.By the end of the night, I told my
friends, “I now officially consider City Island the Bronx.” We closed the bar. Judy drove me home at about 4:00am.
I truly enjoyed the entire night and, unlike when I was younger,
I was tired for the following two days.
My next show at The Artist will be Friday, October 22nd.Mark your calendars.Another line-up I’m proud of.I’m so glad to be doing this again.
So the day began with my bladder ordering me awake. The neighbor upstairs was doing his workout
upstairs involving heavy equipment that he drags along his floor/my ceiling,
and he drops weights and all kinds of things that make me feel I will die by
ceiling.So I couldn’t go back to
sleep.I was still tired and needed my
dream time.But I went out to get coffee
and a bagel.
Physically, I have been feeling somewhat weak, so instead of
going to my preferred store, I went to a closer store.I asked for a buttered bagel lightly
toasted.When I got home, I saw I had a
partially burnt roll lightly buttered.We both spoke English well, so it wasn’t a misunderstanding.
I was hungry, so I ate most of it.I wanted to go back to sleep, but the MF-er
upstairs was doing his thing – treating the apartment like a gym.It wasn’t built to be a gym, so this is a
problem.He seems to also run track up
there.I’ve made contact with him twice
in the past and even told the super.I
have not told the landlord yet because I was hoping we could solve this without
doing that.In other ways he seems like
a decent person.I might have liked him
if he didn’t live above me.I took a big
stick I have and banged on the ceiling a lot.He eventually stopped.
I checked email and was encouraged by an email from the executive director of City Lore. He asked for my okay to include a poem of mine in the Corona Archives and to use in a future exhibit. Oh yes! Fine with me. The poem was about when we heard Biden was announced the winner of the presidential election. He said I caught the moment. That felt good. I need to feel good.
I went
back to sleep.
Disturbing dreams as usual, but they have to happen so that I
may have some peace when awake.
Woken by someone knocking on my door.It was the delivery of a package from a
beautiful woman I was lucky to have as a boss for four years several years
ago.She made a difference in my life,
and I often relive times with her in my mind just to feel better.
I haven’t opened the package yet; I like to elongate the
anticipation.
I fell back asleep, and then it was night.See how topsy-turvy my life has become?I lost my job before the pandemic and then
everything just became harder.But
honestly, with the new administration at that job, I wouldn’t have lasted there anyway.It became almost the opposite of what it was
18 years earlier when I began working there.
I went out to some stores.In the Mexican place where I was waiting for my chicken tacos, a man who
is a regular in the neighborhood, came into the store (which is small and only
allows one person at a time now) to try to sell me a pocketbook for $5.The owner told him he couldn’t be there
without a mask.He left, and on his way
out, told me, “I just want to get something to eat.”I told him, “I know.”I got my tacos, paid with a five-dollar bill
and got a dollar back.When I left the
store, I gave him the dollar.There are
days when I am searching pockets, under couch pillows, old pocketbooks, etc.
for change. So I know one day I might miss that dollar, but tonight, I was able
to spare it.He thanked me and said, “God
bless you.”
When I returned, I checked my mail and there was a fat
envelope from my friend Liz who I met in my twenties at a corporate job. She
was one of the rare ones with humanity.She kept me afloat during those trying years.I haven’t opened that yet either.
I often feel God has blessed me even if as a child, I wondered
if God knew I was here.
I feel there are angels on Earth.They usually don’t make front page news as
the devils do.I would love for a
particular angel to reveal her/himself to me.
Several months ago, when I returned home from the store, a big
box was in front of my door.I hadn’t
bought anything, so I thought it might be meant for a neighbor.I checked and it had my name on it.No return address.It was delivered by Amazon Prime.On the outside of the box, it said, “lithium
batteries.”I was puzzled because the
box was so large.
I then thought that maybe the landlord sent lithium batteries
for the smoke alarm or something.I let
the box sit in my foyer for a few months.Usually my buddy helps me with things like this, but I hadn’t had him or
anyone in my house since the pandemic took over.Since I thought it was batteries, it didn’t
take a high priority for me.Life went
on with more immediate problems and issues, so I tended to forget about the
box.
Yesterday (Thursday), my buddy was going to come over to help
me with something else more pressing, and then I was going to go to his house
to help him with something I had more patience with than he.I remembered the box and asked him for his
help with that also since he was in my apartment anyway.He, too, wondered why a big box said “lithium
batteries.”He opened it, and surprise
surprise, it was a brand new laptop including lithium batteries. He said it might be a rebuilt laptop but it
looked brand new. There was no
indication of who sent it.
I know in my blogs I have mentioned how acting gigs have been
asking for videos in place of in-person auditions, and how that meant no
auditions for me since I don’t have all that fancy technology.Some might call me a dinosaur.It has more to do with lack of finances than
with being a dinosaur.I’ve also
mentioned that when I attend a zoom event, I can see and hear everyone, but
since I don’t have a webcam or mic, I can only use the chat box.So I am thinking it may have been sent from
someone who reads my blog.
My buddy and I were wearing masks in the apartment which was uncomfortable, and we still had to get to his house to do what he needed done,
so we put everything back in the box.He
will set it up for me in the near future.He told me it has a webcam.This
is exciting.However, it does mean I
will have to be dressed and looking somewhat decent when I attend a zoom event.
This is no small gift.I really want to know who sent it to me.Several angels came to mind.But
it is very puzzling that the person didn’t ask me if I received it.It was left by my door. I am lucky my immediate neighbors on my floor
are honest people.But anyone else could
have taken it, and I’d never know since I wasn’t expecting a package.
I’m so moved by so many who have helped me out since I lost my
job and have been scraping by.But this
feels enormous.Let me know who you are.Please.And THANK YOU!
Some of my African-American friends use the phrase “Not all my
skin folk are my kin folk.”That rings
so true for me as well.Not only about
skin folk; sometimes it’s about vagina folk. Trump selecting a vagina-owner, who would roll
back so much that women have fought to achieve, to replace Ruth Bader Ginsburg is
NOT okay.That is NO replacement.
What country can we move to where people are evolved enough to
know that women are adult people who taught most of you to wipe your azz?I ask
that out of desperation.I really want
to stay here if it will return to a democracy and improve from there.
It takes so long to build something good and so little to
destroy it.
I know a man who did this to his son. That's the legacy he chooses to leave.
…
Recently, I was contacted by a woman who believed I was her
teacher in the 1980s in an adult education program in Manhattan.She sent a photo of me and two students.It was a very skinny me and two very happy
looking young women.Part of what she
wrote was:
“You were
very kind and helped us all a great deal. … Mindy it was really nice to have
the opportunity to say thank you for all your help.”
For me, the timing was good.I needed a pick-me-up, and that did it.I so appreciated her sentiments.I don’t even know if I was that good in the 80s; I got better with time,
experience, professional development, and self-knowledge.Nothing beats self-knowledge.
…
I recently received two helpful monetary gifts.One was from a woman I only know on-line.I tried to talk her out of it,
but she refused to hear no.The other
was from a woman who I have had a warm and cold relationship with at a former
job, so it was rather shocking to me.I
was always puzzled by what went on.The boss
at that time had set a bad tone, used words like “nice” and “sincere” as bad
words, and maybe I should have left years before my employment there
ended.Then he could’ve hired an
insincere bitch, and the intermediate level adult students would fade away
which would confirm the administration’s prejudice that those students don’t
learn and have poor attendance and blah blah blah.But if I had left, then I would not have had
the next boss who really appreciated me and my
work including my relationships with my students.That person once told me, “You really care,
and it shows in everything you do.” ❤ She warmed my heart. However, when that person left, I
was f’d.A teacher who told his students
that he “doesn’t give a shit” got a really nice gift and a big party from the
staff and administrators at the end of his time there.I loved my students in general, and most
loved me. The students were a huge part of why I stayed. There were other perks too. Over time, some former
co-workers took me out for dinner, sent me gift cards, money, and a full gift
bag from Fresh Foods.Given my needs, this
most recent gift definitely beat a job party.And it came from someone who demonstrated such mixed feelings toward me.I’m still puzzled.I’m also grateful.Nothing is simple.
…
On another note --- my friend, Mindy Levokove, who is also a
former co-worker (a wonderful one) has a new poetry book out called Mount
Eden Avenue.
They have arrived and are available for purchase! Only ten
bucks.
Mindy Levokove can be found on Facebook.If you aren’t on Facebook, you can let me
know how she can contact you.I will
certainly pass that along.
I am grateful to those who made my birthday special. Thank you to Jessica and David for taking me
out to dinner the night before my birthday.
Delicious Thai food and a glass of wine.
So yummy.
The day of my birthday was paperwork day at my job, so I was
able to go
in later. When I arrived,
there was a gift on my desk from Mindy Levokove and a birthday bottle of wine
from Frida. Then in the back room, there
was much food.
That evening, though two friends wanted to be with me, I asked
if we
could do it the next evening because I was still working on the slice of
memoir I would be sharing in a show the next night – “What Were the ‘60s Really Like?”
The show was really good, and I was proud of my contribution. My creative process seems to include driving myself crazy,
high stress, painting myself into a corner.
And somehow, I birth a piece of writing I like. Whew.
after my birthday. Afterwards,
we went out to celebrate my birthday. I
didn’t have to get up early the next day.
That is another gift. Judy gave
me a book that seems quite unique and interesting. The card came with a picture frame. Very unique and pretty. Bob gave me a toaster oven!
The next day was my son’s birthday. I went over to where he is living with his
father and delivered a gift and expressions of my love. It was cold and raining. So grateful that Bob and Illona did me the
favor of driving me there and back.
Otherwise it would be 4 buses round-trip.
I’m not in financial shape to celebrate the other holidays
much. I hung a decoration on my door
that I made last year with pine cones, glitter, and ribbon. I plugged in some lights that I had never
taken down from the window since last year.
I guess you can assume I won’t be winning any good housekeeping award.
If you would like to check out things I am doing and come surprise me:
·Friday, 1/12/2018 8pm Twisted Lipstick Comedy Show at Sir
D’s Lounge, Brooklyn, NY Tickets are cheaper in advance, so click here for all
the info https://www.facebook.com/events/1587560694616338/
When I was finally first physically separated in 2008, I was meeting
the worst, lowest, most immoral parts of the man I had spent so many years
with, cared about, and created a person with. I had begged for the separation for years, but it wasn't going to happen without major problems. It was such an emotionally violent blast of things. Add to that not having
enough money to survive, fearing the loss of health care, trying to give up
cigarettes with Chantix (which turned out to be close to full disaster for me –
that medicine is NOT for everyone), and the worst was what was happening for
and to my then-teenager who was burdened with what wasn’t his war. I had wrongly
attributed more basic human decency to his other parent. It was the beginning
of a horrendous time.
During all of this, I still received casting notices and
sometimes looked at them. I was torn because on one hand, I needed to find more
paid work. On the other hand, when you belong in the acting world, holding all
kinds of other jobs can feel deadening. And I needed to be alive. I responded
to a casting notice. It was for the title role in an off-off Broadway play.
I was called in for an audition.On my way, I needed to cry. I stuck my face
in what serves as a phone booth these days, and I bawled. Then I used the
reflection of the metal parts of the phone as a mirror and fixed my make-up a
bit. And I continued on to the theatre space. Sides (pages from the script)
were available, so I had a good half hour to get familiar with the part I’d be
asked to do at the audition. I found the character so interesting, intelligent,
psychic, and maybe psychotic or maybe just perceived that way because she saw what others couldn't. And what stood
out to me was she didn’t seem to think she was crazy at all. I thought, I could do this. I could really do this.
When it was almost my turn, I was right outside the room where
the auditions were going on. I heard the woman before me yelling the lines. I
believed that wasn’t a good choice and secretly felt grateful that she made it
easier for me.
The writer and director and a third man were there. A woman
was there to read lines with those auditioning. As it turned out, the three men
were friends and formed Just ASK
Productions. Each wrote a one-act play. Each would direct one of the other
plays. The title of the evening was to be: Anyone
for a Threesome? – A night of very different short plays.
I felt the character at the audition. I was able to just be
her while being me. It didn’t feel difficult once I decided that she didn’t
consider herself crazy. And she was so much more than symptoms. I heard the men
laugh as I portrayed the character. I later thought that is good since they’ve
been hearing reading after reading, so if I made them laugh, it must’ve sounded
fresh and different from what they’d been hearing. When it was over, they made
me feel very comfortable. I was being very forthright about my crazy work
schedule, and the director chimed right in saying he was going to be directing
it and the cast was small so we’d work with everyone’s schedule. They made me
feel wanted. It felt deeply
medicinal at that time. The writer rushed to say as I was leaving that they
were making decisions that night. I knew then that I got it unless someone was
going to be seen after me who was even more convincing as this character.
The “high” I get from that kind of experience helped me at
least not cry on my travels back home to the Bronx. This was not a paid gig,
but it felt like a gift from God, the universe, angels, my loved ones who have
passed. While I was still being put down for not making more money and for
pursuing “dreams” (said as if they were hallucinations), this opportunity felt
like someone/something/some force was saving me.
That night I got the email. I would be Nicky in “I Am Tricky
Nicky.”
The role gave me a place to be "crazy" in a way. And who couldn't use a metaphorical rubber room every now and then?
If you have the time and desire, you can see the video of the
play here. It’s a little under a half hour. I appreciate the script now more
than then. I don’t have to learn lines now. I am able to just watch and enjoy.
The Just ASK trio
had amazing energy besides being smart and creative. They had very supportive
families and networks. We never lacked audience and our run was extended. We
were even reviewed twice. My performance was highlighted positively in the
reviews. This was a large dose of medicine that was going to help me face each
day during a very dark period. If I had been at a more normal place, this could
have been more skyrocketing. I was at an extremely low place, so this was
helping to bring me up to functioning. At the cast party (I unfortunately got
too drunk, fell asleep, and missed much of it), the trio were full of lovely
surprises including a gift card for each of us. When I realized I could use the
card in the supermarket, I got excited. I was in real need at the time, and
this was another unexpected gift of survival. One of the guys looked at me in
disbelief that I needed it for the supermarket. We were born into very
different circumstances. I realized they just might not understand how enormous
this whole experience was to me, but it doesn’t lessen how much appreciation I
had and have for them.
