13th Street Rep

"I was born in 1917" she tells me with a smirk, knowing full well the reaction she is going to get. I hold in my gasp. I knew she looked old but 91 years old? That's amazing considering I wasn't talking to her in a nursing home, or hospital. I was sitting on one of the many found chairs in the homey lobby of The 13^th Street Repertory's theater on 13th between 5th and 6th ave.

Edith O'Hara, the artist director, and founder of the theater sat next to me after I filled out my interview form. "I can't see much anymore, so I'm afraid I won't read your resume." But Sandra, her right hand gal, will. After asking me my interest and experience as a theater director, Edith begins to tell me her amazing life story. I have a feeling it's part of the routine. I've noticed with most people that are 85 and above, are easily launched into the highlights of their lives, whether they are asked or not. But I don't mind because I like to listen.

Edith's highlights include an early childhood in the mountains, her father was a logger up in the type of Idaho. She and her siblings lived in a small rustic house, with bed chambers and out houses. "No modern conveniences" she says to me. Then ask if I know what a bed chamber is, granted she could not know my first full length play was called "Bedpan Palace" so I nod politely and indicate I know of them. She goes on to tell me that her school house had seven or eight other student, three were her own family, but that it only went to the sixth grade. So when she reached the seven her father sold his business and they moved "Into town."

It was in this school where she was put into a play, were she played George Washington. From there she says her love of theater began. She goes onto talk about her romance with a man, newly separated but not yet divorced named Arty Smith, whom she meet when doing summer stock. From them she went to UCLA which left because the classes were to big and impersonal. She then married a man whom she wasn't head over heals for like she was with Arty, but she says twice, With Arty being separated and not divorced I didn't know how that would work." So she married Mr. O'Hara and had three children. Two went onto Broadway and one, her son is a musician. She makes it known she was never a stage mom, her kids were just exposed to it because of her involvement in theater. Later after jumping from running various Summer stock venues she ends up in NYC in 1971 or 2 and finds an add in the village voice for a small theater for sell. She has been there ever since. Of course some corporation is now trying to get her out of there so they can get millions for the building.

It was an inspiring story to say the least. So I am to interview again, with Sandra to talk about some becoming apart of their directors unit. It seems like a nice environment to get my hands dirty, so hopefully it will work out, but if not, I'm glad I got a chance to sit and talk with Edith. That's always how I imagined my life, spending my last breath in the theater, maybe my own?

FUN FACT: 13th Street Rep is home to the longest- running show in the city, Israel Horovitz's absurdist one-act Line has played there since January 1974.

Well my dears, we did it. I wish I had the words to express....

VOTE VOTE VOTE

Hold your breath. I know I am...

More then likely I will be the only person in my office tomorrow morning. I hope so anyway. That means they are all out voting. My pick was sent off two weeks ago, right into the dragons lair! By that I mean Florida.

Part of me feels like maybe we have this one in the bag but then I think - no that's what I thought last time. Didn't really work out then, did it? But I have to believe my fellow Americans that you are ready for a change. Please, please, please tell me you are. We can do so much better then the last eight years. I know we can.

I feel like some of us are pulling this rope up hill and attached is a large heap of something indistinguishable, but we can't pull it alone. I see hands, and feet running to keep up. We have a hold of this thing, all we need are a few extra hands, but those hands are on hips, with lips pressed tightly together. They watch with eyes filled with fear, standing unmoved, all around us. They won't help because they think we are pulling some terror object up over the hill and want nothing to do with it. But the truth is - they don't know what's in the barge, they can't know. We don't know but we hope it's better then what's already over the hill. SO we continue on. Pulled by some collective need to get this task done.

I can't say anything that has not already been said before. So I will just be glad I suppose that the turn out will be beyond anything it has ever been, in that way I know we can make it. Maybe it won't be my side but at least it shows passion and commitment form everyone - feeling something is a million times better then being passive. In playwriting it's always the passive characters that hold the story back, that's why it's important to create motivation and a want/need... because if you want something, anything, you have to create action to get it.

How Much to Make It Work?

If it's not one thing it's always another. Well enough.

The grad school I attend is starting to really get on my nerves. The program I am in is great, it's the administration for the school that's a problem.

Every single pound I have paid them has been a struggle. I don't just mean getting the money, I mean giving it to them. Every time something isn't correct, either the amount or the date is wrong (from their end). I finally had to go through the head of the department to get somewhere. I even sat down with a fiance guy and we mapped out the rest of my payment plan. I signed a paper and that was that.

Well, turns out - that wasn't really that- because today some idiot in finance emailed me a bill. A bill that is incorrect. A bill that is charging me for payments I already paid. In fact it is charging me for the whole tuition fee!

I'm a second year student - can you imagine if I went this long without paying anything? I mean really? Come on people! And what's most annoying about this is I'm not in London anymore. I'm back in NYC and it's impossible (even more so) to get anything done from here. They don't respond to emails, they don't pick up the phone. I mean I can't pay $2,000.00 to fly there and yell at someone, all though it still would be cheaper then the amount they are saying I owe them.

If only this was it, besides these morons I have a debt collector calling my boyfriend looking for me saying I owe money for a hospital bill, which I don't but it's an automated phone so there is no one to call and yell at.

And frankly I'm tired of having to yell at people. It's exhausting and it never ends. It would all seem a little better if I was getting somewhere - not just with these money people but with my lot in life - my goals - my work - something. Just can't something - anything happen the way it's planned?

My Country Tis of WHo?

I voted. That makes me a real American - even though I don't worship Jesus - I don't own an American Flag - I do live in a big city and I hate apple pie. Despite all that I am still a real American. I shop at Walmart - I buy most things online - with a credit card - I'm in debt $35,000 (thanks to grad school) and I want to be rich (not so much famous) one day.

Having said all that I'm pretty sure you all know who I voted for... and the amendments I voted against. I voted early because I'm in NY right now but I'm registered in Florida. (Where my vote counts.)

I have to say, the only good thing about this race is the voting turn out (I hope) will be one of the largest this country has ever seen. It has always been a low number of voters so hopefully we Americans - and if you live in America (by way of another country or born here) that makes you a real American - will go out and give our opinion on who should run our country.

This country that was founded by immigrants! And continues to grow because of them. That's not a bad thing republicans. I think you shouldn't be judged because you were born somewhere. The fact that you are choosing to come live in America should be a compliment and received with open arms. Because if you choose to live somewhere you are dedicating your life and (taxes) to that place. The rest of us where born here and stayed (which is also a choice.) Meaning we all had a say in our location to live.

We don't have to all worship the flag or agree with anything our government says (especially lately) to be a real American. In fact disagreeing is one of the strongest acts of patriotism there is. It means you won't let your country settle for something that isn't the best - whether it's a choice or course of action. After all - the government is made of men/ (and a few) women not Gods. SO it is our duty to keep them in check!

I hate people who are like "Oh you don't like it? Then you can leave it." Because those are the people who can't think for themselves and get scared with change and have a white hood in their pick up truck for their 'meetings'. They want to be told what to do and how to do it. That's fine (for them) but then why tell others - who like to know what's going on and may disagree - to leave? That means you don't want your country to be better. You don't want things questioned and that means you hate America 'Mr. love it or leave it moron.'

I'm just so annoyed with this whole "Real American" bullshit that's been thrown around and enough already. If you live in America and pay taxes to help support America - then you are in fact a real American - no mater what you believe - who you pray to - who you want to marry - who you hate - who you love - where you shop - and what part of America you live in.

So show it by voting. (That would make you a super cool American - which is way better then a real one.)

Thank you - that is all - now if you will excuse me I have a thesis to avoid - junk food to eat - and bad reality TV to watch.

Trick or Treate Give Me Something to Wear!

Halloween is probably my most favorite of all holidays. Last year I didn’t get to celebrate because I was living in London. But this year it’s on! I got a party to go to and people to get candy from, but what on earth am I gonna be?

I was thinking GT should just wear his hair down and put on a dress, and call himself an Ugly Step Sister - because from the back people always mistake him for a girl (coz of his pretty - pretty long hair) but then when he turns around, they nearly faint. (Not coz he’s unattractive. Like I would be with him if he was?) No, it’s the realization that if this is a girl she’s probably the ugliest girl you’ve ever seen - but when you put two and two together and realize it’s a dude, then your like ‘ooooooh’ that’s much better. But I know he won’t go for the drag idea.

Then my friends who we call Deason (a couple) said they thought of going as GT and me for Halloween. This is pretty funny if you ask me. Because GT and I have very distinct looks, him in his metal gear and me in my large adult orphan Annie hair style, would bring about a few laughs worn on someone else. They decided to be Bee’s instead though.

So D’s idea was ‘why not as lady bugs?’ - because no one would ever think GT would dress up as that. Not when he has all those fancy fangs, colored contact lenses, swords and gothic get up. (Nor is it his style) But I don’t have any of that stuff, only a few short haired wigs form my aunt. Other then that I have no idea! Hmmm I’m gonna have to have a real think about this (since I emailed out my graduate thesis paper this morning I finally have the time and brain mass to waste on such things)

(In the end this is what we went as.)

WHAT MY DAD TAUGHT ME

I'm typing with my toes. My hands are being used to pet two large dogs, whose house I just broke into. And this is my Friday night.

I was supposed to be packing for a flight to sunny Miami but the Gods had their own plans. Hurricane's, tropical storms and an old lady waiting to fart are standing in my way. This old lady I speak of is the owner of the apartment I have just broken into.

GT's poor mother was struck ill. While she is recovering in the hospital (they won't let her leave until she passes gas) we are on doggy watch. Some how the door to her apartment got locked. Without keys I thought back to my childhood and all the times my dad had me break into my grandparents house. He'd throw me up to a side window and have my tiny body squeeze between the metal hurricane shutters. (Which I image are shut tight right about now.) Since it's still hotter then hell I knew the windows would be open here. So I wondered around and found a good ledge to hop over onto another, steadied myself, reassured the dogs on the other side of the window screen that I was a good guy, pulled the screen up and in I went.

I know my dad is disappointed I won't be seeing him tomorrow at the airport (as he reminds me that he was going to make all my favorite foods.) But I'm sure he'll be proud to know my skill for breaking into old people's homes has come into use once again. Thanks dad for teaching me the lessons in life worth using.

Green Light

Narrows Community Theater of Bayridge Brooklyn is producing my latest Full-Length play SPOILED CHERRIES.

I didn't intend to be working on a show so close to my return, especially with my thesis paper due at the end of next month and now having a full time job - but I couldn't be more excited.

Time to roll up my sleeves and get to work...

So Much to Say..............No Time to Say It

I want to talk about the old drunk guy who wears really short shorts and sings Frank Sinatra songs at karaoke - the beggar on the train I got into a fight with because his begging was interrupting my conversation - the fact that all of the sudden GT is a teenage heart throb, which keeps me up at night with laughter - the horrible off B'way shows I have been seeing - the loud lady with the Peg Bundy hair and shoulder pads who rides the same train I do every morning - the missing of Dustin Hoffman's call at work because I just had to go get a bagel - the hopelessness I feel about ever becoming a full-time playwright / director - the excitement about the British invasion (HR2) coming to town for 2 whole weeks! - GT's new role as Producer and how supportive he's been - the cashier at Starbucks who says please go online and fill out a form so they don't shut us down and thinking how ironic that was - the 'Oh yea? Why don't you go blog about it' wise cracks I get from the metal head version of Justin Timberlake that has become GT - the many BQ's I have been to this summer and how everyone has a different idea of what a barbeque is, here's a hint, if it's catered from an Italian restaurant, it ain't a barbeque, it's just eating outside - and how I have no idea what happens from here....

Red Light / Green Light

GT is on his way over to the meeting, with his laptop in hand so he can show them the budget. It's already been approved by the President of the group but now it's on to the board for the final say.

If they approve my director's fee and royalties (for the use of my play) then it's a go and auditions will be in a week. If not? Then I'm sad to say I'll have to decline the offer.

I'm not doing this because I'm a bored house wife or an elderly person with time on my hands. I'm 26 now (as of Wed) and I'm determined to get it right. I'm enjoying my day job but ultimately I want to be the client, not the agents assistant. The only way to do that is to just go for it, understand your worth and stick to your guns. That's how it's done. I mean, luck helps but you can't plan for it or ask it to come along and take over.

So for now I'm at the yellow light, not full stop but I'll pause and see what's on the table.