the difference between an olive garden family and a real family...

is when you're at olive garden, you must leave money at the table when you are done with your meal. also, my mom does not provide unlimited breadsticks and salad but she does make a fierce kosher chicken!

the moment before

There's a technique actors use to envelop themselves in the environment of their character - so even before they speak their response feels real and true. You're supposed to imagine what you're character just sensed right before you say your lines. I took my first ever acting class last night - it's acting for stand-up comics - and we used this "moment before" idea to prepare ourselves for our practice Mastercard commercial audition.

I had no idea how much craft and nuance went into this stuff. Basically, our scenario was you're out to lunch with your co-workers and boss, and LO AND BEHOLD! your stupid co-workers cards get declined. They didn't know any better then to use Mastercard. Chumps. But you, Mastercard holder, have the upperhand. BUT - don't be smug about it. You're a confident person - you don't go around trying to impress people like some OTHERS (snicker, snicker). So here you are, effortlessly paying for the lunch with your credit card. AND, the boss is noticing but you don't REALLY care.


Stuff I told myself to get in character:

Wow! I feel so at ease with this situation because I'm confident and because of that confidence I know to have Mastercard. It just fell in my lap. Nothing can get in my way, and it's ALL GOOD! I mean, why spend time worrying about anything - homelessness, war - shit - I got it under control with my credit card. Easy Breezy!!

Moment Before Thought:

Waiter says: Of course we take Mastercard! after co-workers get busted for their lame-ass cards.


Then we spoke WITH the camera (as if it were our friend). In the parentheses are the tone choices I made:

Ya know (friendly), life's too short to worry about making impressions on other people (you know this too, i'm sure of it). I mean, are you ever really (slightly incredulous) impressed by someone else's credit card (of course you're not, friend)?

What matter most to me about a credit card is (thoughtful pause) how it impresses me.

Mastercard gives me what I want (even love and security) - anything is possible (it's a cheery fact).

I use it when I want, where I want - day or night (you have a natural born right to this credit card) - could be Timbuktu (kinda crazy...but it could!).

Don't talk to me about impressions (i know better, and you do too. you are so smart)
Give me possibilities (bright and friendly, the future is ours!).

END

So,watchout world, I'm on to you!

hit me with your best shot

Walking through Times Square in the oddly cold damp July air, I did not mind cutting through people standing around, snapping photos. In fact, I walked right in front of their lenses not minding they were blocking my path. Now, I DO mind not seeing all these unique, beautiful photos they are capturing. Many of them will have my profile in them, and one my middle finger. Just chalk it up to a "wacky" new york moment!

slugs n' skulls

it's the name of my new band! do you like it? it's kinda earthy since you find both of these items in the ground. so...guess who's been watching too much 6 feet under??? it's been depressing the shit out of me, and yet i hunger for more. more sadness, weirdness, death, revelation, struggle, hope, and sweet man-on-man love.

i dreamt last night that the bathroom at my former beach house was filled with slugs. i had to scoop them out of the tub with a human skull on each hand. skull puppets. i wasn't sure what was more terrifying - the variation of slugs in color and size, or having my hand inside a skull and manipulating its mouth to pick up the slugs. totally barfy all the way around.

popcorn: i love and need you

I love and need popcorn.  There is a large pot on the stove that I use to pop my kernels. Did you know that the odor in microwave popcorn is harmful? It can give you cancer (over a long period of time, but still).  Throw out your compressed packets of micro-pop.  Coat the bottom of a large pot with olive oil.  Turn stove on high.  Sprinkle kernels on bottom surface of pot. Cover with lid (but leave a little opening for air), and wait! Listen!  Do you hear the popcorn popping? The kernels exploding out of their shells like manic caterpillars bursting into butterflies? It is rapid fire and you need to pay close attention.

Now, when the popping slows down to 2-3 seconds between pops, turn off the heat...unless you love burnt popcorn.  Get me? Salt and butter popcorn to desired tastes.  Do not burn butter! Burnt buttercan ruin a perfectly good pot of popcorn.

Transfer popcorn (or peeks as I affectionately call it) to a bowl.

Throw in Season 2, 3rd disc, of 6 Feet Under, munch on peeks, and contemplate how short and wasteful our lives are.

alcohol + boys = butt touching

you take 4-7 beers, add one young man struggling to figure out his place in the world and SHAZAM! your butt gets touched. my math skills are rusty but i got this one DOWN. when this happens, i look the young man in the eye and say, i do not think you are ready for this jelly! and then he walks away, offended i did not think he was ready for my jelly. it is hilarious when they get offended, as if they have a right and duty towards your jelly.

nothing better to do than eat paper

who's nibbling on paper? i am!

chiclets

My brother Danny occasionally calls me Chiclet since my front teeth are large and square like discolored white chiclets. Or he'll say, "How are your chiclets?" as if they have feelings and concerns. Which, they do. Here's me with one, full-squared, pretty darn happy Chiclet. My Chiclet is psyched because my brother Danny had just gotten b-mitzvahed which means I got to eat a lot of candy. Note the '82 ruffles.

spreading the word

i've started to spread the word that my blog is here! that it exists, ya know? i try to be casual about it, like just mentioning it in passing or adding a seemingly blase line at the end of an e-mail.

like, hey, check out my blog. you're one of the first people i told!

or, yea, i started a blog. it's kinda silly but fun. it's mainly for me anyway. it's not like i want you to read it or anything. whatever, i don't want to talk about it anymore.

so i'm getting some blog announcements printed up, no biggie.

sunday night potpourri

a mish-mosh of musty smelling thoughts floating through my brain:

1) what's so horrible about home confinement for Martha Stewart? She's a domesticzarina. How uncomfortable is 5 months at her pad, it's like a prisinn. prison+inn! get it?!?!

2) why is 7 a lucky number? 6 and 8 must be freaking jealous. i'd be! shit.

3) no one calls anyone a hobo anymore.

4) what's a funicular

5) is it odd to calculate the night before how much sleep you anticipate getting?
 
6) most potpourri smells like toilet water

new invention

sometimes when a friend asks for a pen, i rifle through my bag and BAM! a tampon pops out. i'm going to tape a pen to my tampon and next time that happens i'll be like "ooops! it's my tampen!" maybe they will use it to write things.

super cool

that is what blogger is. i'm in such a blog state of mind i can't think straight! i think i have a new crush...and his name rhymes with nogger!

lookin' good for you know who!