I'll Never Write a Novel

The Memoir of a Personal Essayist OR Confessions of a Theatre Widow

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Color My World

Hello friends!
I added a special new feature to my blog recently. I have a profile photo. Up until now the perfect photo had eluded me. Then I found this one. (Look! My profile is over there, just to the left.)

I encourage you to visit my profile and click the button to enlarge it. If you want you can print it out and make a craft project of it. Perhaps there will be a contest in honor of my birthday in May. We'll see.

It's not so much homework as it is a fun diversion, right? It's not a command performance.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Stealing a Post

Oooh, I was totally going to write about this and my sister beat me to it...

Celebrities Separated at Birth

I was completely thinking this when I watched the Oscars, then Kate just had to be a little quicker on the mouse clicking.

She is fabulous, that Kate, and always gets to things first. She got Batman, I got Robin. She got first pick on them Duke boys. She got The Ricker, letting me have Derek (fine by me now!). She got Dan Tanna, I got Binzer.* She got BJ, I got "The Bear."* That's just the way it goes sometimes.

*We really had to have been watching those shows in reruns. We were too young to have watched original airings.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

The Greatest Hits

Searching for my blogging identity, I looked back at some of my original posts to see why I started this endeavor in the first place. I don't have that many posts (so you could certainly read them all yourself), but it seemed I had more of a sense of what I wanted to say when this not-a-novel began. Perhaps pregnancy and parenthood have clouded my mind as I often feel a little less sharp than I might have once been, but this seemed like a nice little post. It's a bit outdated and you'll surely notice the "I don't have kids reference," but it still rings true for me.

Sadly, my mind is less clear, but what I definitely still have stored are TV themes and facts, baby business and useless trivia. So, when I can't come up with coherent posts like the following, that's probably the kind of stuff you'll get.

I think I may have doubled my blog numbers since this original entry from April 2006 (are there four of you now?) so a few of you might have missed this:

Next time you are watching a movie or a TV show, remember the term “Suspension of Disbelief.” That’s the term that writers, directors and producers give to the necessary relationship between viewer and program that allows a car to blow-up without the guy standing next to it getting even a scratch, or the fact that a problem can be introduced, dealt with and solved in 22 minutes. None of these things can happen in real life, so you have to stop yourself from saying, “That could never happen,” in order to embrace the story.

Life sometimes hands us situations that require a similar response. Some might simply call it “belief.” Many call it “faith.” In any case, it seems to me that the power to believe in something or someone is the greatest power we have. It is a human power that actually can cause a transformation in what we empower. In a stage play, believing that the set is really a living room or a forest makes it so. And, more importantly, believing that someone can do or be something actually gives them the capacity to make it so. Unbelievable? Not so much.

Growing up Catholic, I learned that at the Great Amen, transubstantiation occurred. Amen roughly translates to the phrase, “I believe.” It is an incredibly powerful word through all Christian faiths. In transubstantiation, Catholics believe that ordinary bread and wine become the real physical presence of the Lord. And it is a real transformation that happens when we believe. It is the ultimate fulfillment of faith. It wasn’t until recently that I discovered that it is this foundation in faith that shapes everything I do.

In my job as a talent agent I cannot count how many times I am asked the question, “Do you think I have what it takes to ‘make it?’” Of late I realized that what they really seem to be asking is, “Do you believe in me?” That’s a powerful question to be asked regularly. I don’t have any kids yet, but I imagine that a parent is asked that in a million ways, quietly and out-loud every day. For me, it is an odd experience that strangers are hopeful that I will believe in them. Odder yet, when I do believe in people, it can have the capacity to shape their life. One actress I work with, for instance, had never done any sort of film work before and had only worked in theatre. She didn’t think that she could just make the leap, but I told her she could, and that she should. She subsequently booked just about every audition she went on. After booking a pretty high-profile job, that will be taking her to LA this winter, she called and said, “Thank you for believing in me.” I hung up the phone and cried. If in my life I am never blessed to hear those words again that will still be enough. I touched someone’s life for the better because I believed in her. Unbelievable? For me, it was.

This is not to say that I am one truly special person. Quite the contrary, I would like to submit to you that we all have this little bit of “miracle” within us. Whether you just listen to the story of the guy next to you on the bus one day, or take a child under your wing as a mentor, you can transform the lives of others. It is the “Great Amen” of life. Letting others know that we believe in them, in big and small ways, is one of the few ways that an individual can actually transform the world for the better. It is how we are called to bless others, so to speak.

I am who I am because others have believed in me. That transformation made me know myself and believe that I could accomplish the extraordinary. Once upon a time, I would never have thought that I would have had anything valuable to put into print. But, here I am writing an article, speaking my mind, and sharing my belief, because someone told me once that my voice was worth hearing. Maybe yours is, too.

Unbelievable? Absolutely not.
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P.S. Thanks for always believing in me, Mama. You made me feel truly special because I always was in your eyes. I hope I can transform others the way you had a gift for doing. You always saw the best in people and helped them live to their greatest potential by helping them see it, too. I will be lucky to be half the woman you were and still are. +

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Muchas Gracias

I just want to say thanks to all the nice people who commented and added their $.02 on my blog. You had very nice things to say and some great advice. I honestly feel special, and that's nice. My mom had a way of always making me feel special and it's been sorely missing for the last several weeks.

So, in honor and appreciation, I offer musing on my favorite topic, and one of yours apparently, as well: Baby.

While the Dad-guy and Little G are apart I thought I would send him photos and updates on her. I was able to make a recording of her saying, in a blissful little voice, "Hi Da-Da." Last night she went crazy trying to talk to him on the phone. Then there are the camera phone pictures. This one is too cute to describe, so here it is:


He is off to NYC this weekend to do a reading for Lincoln Center (pretty awesome!) and the message that went along with this basically said she's getting ready for his big trip. There are hearts on her little jacket and she's wearing her fancy new boots. Crazy cute, if a little gender neutral.

A few hours later she had a diaper issue that was very unpleasant. In fact, it was such a problem that she may not be able to wear this top ever again... Yikes!

That's all for now!

P.S. The vacuum cord you see in the back has been moved. A few days ago she couldn't get to it, but she can now. Ah, keeping up with baby.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

On Topic

So, I am temporarily back from San Jose. I will have to follow the prior posts instructions (in a modified form) to get back down there. At least now I already know the way.

In any case, I have been in San Jose because my sweet hubby is going a show down there. He's rehearsing and then performing through March 16. I will head down when the show is in performances so I can see him be awesome. I guess he is always awesome, but his job allows him to be publicly awesome and I get to participate in that. He will be doing the same show, and being publicly awesome, in Seattle after San Jose. Should be fun. So, I am currently home playing single mom. Now is time to note the name of my blog.

Listen, I have got to be honest, I am not a very good blogger. Please don't stop reading here. It's just that my blog doesn't have any focus. I don't know if I imagined there would be more about the adventures of a gal who flits about while her hubby entertains the masses. I actually came up with the phrasing "theatre widow" with a guy whose wife did shows with my hubby. We joked about being widowed by the theatre who stole our spouses for long stretches. My mom used to joke that she was a "golf widow" because my dad would take off for the course regularly. All this "widow" business seems a little grim right now, and certainly doesn't address what I blog about. But what the heck do I blog about?

As for being a personal essayist, that seems quite accurate. I studied "Personal Essay" in college-- one of my favorite classes ever, might I add? I loved the short attention span theatre of it all. You could title something, "On ______," muse about that topic for a couple pages and be onto the next thing. That is me. I like short stories, one act plays, TV shows, etc. Not that I don't have the commitment to longer endeavors, but I like the get to the crux of the matter and know the whole tale. Now that I am saying this, I am clearly the product of a lot of TV viewing. A psychic told me once that I would write a book. That isn't too far off, as I am a writer, but this gal doesn't have the commitment to writing a novel. A collection of personal essays. That I can do. Ergo, I'll never write a novel. I have even written this post in spurts. I can't commit to 500 words of continuous writing.

Maybe it's just all about the baby now. The reason I do this in small segments is because she is so entertaining/adorable/needy that I can't keep focused on one this. Maybe this is just another Mom's blog now. Somehow I don't think that's it.

Lots of blogs are commited to commenting on a specific topic. Is there anything I know enough about to commit a website to? Not really. I know a little bit about a lot of stuff. I'm not sure anyone would consider me an expert in anything. [Aside: I sometimes dream of being on a TV special (VHI, MTV, TLC, E!, etc.) as "Pop Culture Expert," or something like that. I mean they have people who are TV experts and I don't know how they get those gigs. I looked into where I could get a pop culture masters, actually. In fact, I found a program that studied theology and pop culture. That would be the PERFECT program for me. Scene.]

Now I have recently seen blogs that review stuff. I like schwag. Seriously. They don't call me "Clearance Pants" for nothing. I worked in radio for a long time, and I won't lie, I loved the freebies. So, is it possible I could commit to reviewing stuff and getting to try it? How does that work? Who sends free stuff? Who would want to know my two cents on anything anyway? If I could write and get free crap that would be fine by me. So, start sending me stuff.

Finally, I ask you, oh readers. The few. The proud. The Noreens. Do you think there is already a clear voice here? Do you find what you are looking for when you stumble upon this barely actually existent location? Is there something more you would like to hear about from me? Would you honestly like to hear less?

If you have an opinion, I'd love to hear it. But be nice. My ego is fragile. Not fragile so much as accident prone and already bruised.

Monday, February 04, 2008

Do You Know the Way to San Jose?

I do know the way to San Jose... I am here right now. The way here is:

1. Get up at 3:30 a.m.
2. Get a ridiculously incompentent driver to take you to the airport.
3. Bring your dog, your baby, and all your crap with you to the nightmare that is check-in and security.
4. Tell the airline staff that you do, in fact, have your pet's travel certificate (which you really do), and dance around a little when they ask you to present it.
5. Magically not have to present said certificate which your husband threw out.
6. Get through security with your husband holding your dog and you holding your baby while a cavalcade of your junk rolls through the scanner. *Need at least 10 bins for these items.
7. Pack things back up and go to gate C17.
8. Stop at Starbucks to get invigorated.
9. Be blessed enough to have the flight attendant find a way for you, your husband, your baby and your dog to sit in first class. (wheeee)
10. Count your blessings.
11. Enjoy first class and the proper glassware it provides.
12. Pack all your stuff up when the plane lands and be the last people off the plane.
13. Claim the rest of your pile of stuff at baggage claim.
14. Get a mini-van taxi, as you need that much room for your things.
15. Take the mini-van to your hotel in San Jose.

Fifteen easy steps to get to San Jose (or san josee, as Mom would say). Once you are there, be sure to call your family to let them know you have arrived. They miss you and you miss them. Terribly.

What a wild time to be here.

More to come...