The List of Things

The list of things I really don't need to
see or hear before, after or during a
flight of any kind to anywhere
whatsoever:

-Don't need to see a giant wheel of the
plane I am about to board being replaced.
Just don't. Thanks.

-Don't need to see man with earphones
on pulling plug out of plane causing gallons
and gallons of liquid (fuel? toilet water?
the wine I plane to drink to calm my
nerves?) to come gushing out on to
the runway before taking off. Just
don't. Thanks.

-Don't need to hear, 'It's going to be a
full flight." Full, as in heavy? As in way too
many people with too many magazines or
carry ons on the flight or what? Just don't.
Thanks.

-Don't need to hear that today's movie
involves any flick with Ben Stiller. Just don't.
Thanks.

Off To Miami

Tomorrow I am going for a long
girl's weekend in Miami. Where
should I go? Any suggestions?

I love the one from my pal Geoff T:

"The Ritz Carlton South Beach - this
ain't your grandmother's Ritz - there's
a DJ in the lobby and lots of art deco
and leather to make a gay man proud
- the pool area is nice - worth a pitshop
(better than the scene at the Delano,
although can be "family-friendly"
pre-9:00 pm). "

Get Out There

Many of us sit around on a weekend and do
nothing. Doing nothing is good. Usually I like
to do a combo of something and nothing.
Too much of one or the other is not good.

Today I did something.

Today we went to Queens Museum of Art
and stumbled across this amazing exhibit called,
'Crossing the BLVD: strangers, neighbors, aliens
in a new America'. This is one of the most humbling,
interesting and beautiful exhibits I've seen in a while.
It satisfied every creative part in me with it's beautiful
photos and fantastic writing and interviews of a
number of new immigrants and refugees currently
living in Queens, New York.

The documentary style exhibit was a three-year
journey by it's creators Warren Leher and Judith
Sloan who interviewed everyone from taxi drivers
from Tajikistan to bodega owners from Mexico.
This is the real deal. Photos and stories about
various people sharing and comparing their
lives from their homeland to their current
experiences living here in America.

Each person interviewed had a large self-portrait
taken and underneath featured a tiny map of
where they are from, a photo of where they
currently live in Queens and a tiny blurb on
what it's like living here. These elements
combined were a rich mixture of info for
the viewer to get a tiny sliver of understanding
of what life must be like for the individuals
featured.

I think this exhibit should be a mandatory field
trip for every NYC classroom. Better yet someone
please move it to Soho (The New Musuem?) where
a bunch of rich white Americans can act shocked
and stunned and wowed at the thought that the
man at the coffee cart they visit each morning
ACTUALLY was a Neurosurgeon back in Cairo.
Wow.

Deep Thoughts-Not Really

Sometimes I open an old journal and find
things I wrote and go-wow-that used to
be how life was for me and while it's very
sad it's sometimes a nice reminder that
most of the time life works out somehow
in the end despite one's ability to see
what's around the corner.

This is one of those things:
(old entry)

"Tonight I moved out of the apartment. I
went to our family friend's house and slept
on their daughter's bed full of beanie babies.
Great. I am just shy of thirty, fucked up a
marriage and now I am sleeping in the bottom
bunk of a little girl's room surrounded by
clown wall paper, a few lonely looking naked
Barbies, a sand art collection and a bed full
of beanie babies. If I’m not the hottest thing
going right now I can't imagine what is. I am
gut wrenching lonely. The kind that gives me
chronic stomach pains. I lay in this bed until
I am so physically and emotionally exahausted
that I can barely move and fall asleep. Where
could this all possibly be going?"

Be There Or Be Way Square

So when someone hands me an Old Navy
glossy, expensive looking flyer inviting me
to "Join their BIG BIRTHDAY BASH' on
Saturday night, April 3rd featuring 'thrilling
games' and 'free giveaways' and 'so much
more!'...do they really think that a bunch
of my friends and I sitting around trying
to decide what to do for the night will say,
"Hey guys! Forget the Lower East Side
scene let's head on up to the 34th Street
Old Navy!"

My Surreal Night At Macy's Department Store

The other night I had only one hour to cover a lot
of ground for my wardrobe stylist job buying clothes
for the next morning’s 7am shoot. Because I was so
pressed for time and could not afford to run all over
town I decided to hit the place I often try to avoid at
all costs-Macy’s.

I found most of the items on my list pretty quickly
and with only a few more things left to pick up I
headed to the sixth floor. Holding five giant shopping
bags and two pairs of women’s jeans on hangers I
boarded the escalator.

When I reached the top all of the sudden I was
bombarded with flashing strobe lights, screaming
girls and thumping music. Momentarily stunned I
quickly stepped off the escalator and scooted over
to the side by the freight elevator entrance. After
getting my bearings I realized that somehow I had
walked into what appeared to be the runway show
for Tommy Hilfiger’s Spring 2004 line featuring the
model Carol Alt, Bachelorette ‘stars’ Meredith Phillps
and Ian McKee and Ex-‘N Sync members Lance Bass
and Joey Fatone.

The whole thing was very surreal. I didn’t see any
other shoppers and people dressed to the nines
were drinking champagne off of silver trays and
looking at me like, “Who invited the women with
five giant shopping bags and two pairs of women's
jeans on a hanger?”

Before I knew it there was a lot of clapping and
someone yelled, ‘We love you Tommy!’. I looked
around for a quick escape.

All of the sudden a group of large body guards
started to escort both Lance Bass and Joey Fatone
right towards me heading towards the freight
elevator where I was standing. When Joey was
about a foot away from me out of nowhere a
small hysterical teenage girl standing behind
me yelled out with a heavy Brooklyn accent,

“JOEY! I love ya new radio show! Ya radio show
-is AWESOME!!!”

Joey Fatone looked up. Instead of making eye
contact with the screaming girl he looked directly
at me. His face changed expressions and with a
sensitive look and 'bedroom' eyes he pointed his
finger at me and said, "Thanks hon. That really
means a lot." He winked and walked off.

Um. For the record...I have never heard Joey
Fatone's radio show and nor do I think I would
ever like it.

Courtney-Don't Think So

Today's Production/wardrobe schedule that I am
working on reads "5:30pm Courtney Love in for
hair/makeup/wardrobe. 6:00pm on camera".
Ahh-I don't think so. I hope the PA has enough
petty cash to bail her out.

Where Have I Been?

Hello. I'm right here. My voice is quiet
and I am quite tired. My freelance stint
as the wardrobe stylist has pointed me
in the direction of more freelance work
via friends of friends. Money is a nice
thing to make. This time in an office. I
forgot what offices are like. There are
people that whistle by your desk, 'Day
Light Come and Me Wanna Go Home'
until you want to stab them in the eye
with a sharp object. There are fax
machines and photo copiers. There
are multiple phone lines and inter-office
envelopes. People say, 'ASAP'.
There is no cat. 'My' cat Jane.

BACK IN THE TANK

Karaoke Big Girl

Ok. I finally did Karaoke. I've never done
it before but I went for it. It was in a bar
in Red Hook where I was dressed like a
James Bond girl. Although I didn't do a
solo I feel that it may be in my near future.

FASHIONISTA

Hi. I should be blogging. Yes I know. Instead I've been
hired as a wardrobe stylist for like...ten million bucks
this week for a commercial in the making. Ok. Not
ten million but good money. If this blog makes zero
sense it is because I have had only about 5 hrs sleep
per night having worked crazy hours complete with
6am call times.

It's funny-me the wardrobe stylist. I feel kind of kick ass
I have to say. I have a whole closet at my disposal full of
bags and hats and shoes and belts and jackets and an
ironing board and multiple lint roll brushes and drawers
full of safety pins. I gab with the awesome make up
artist who tells me gossip about famous stars and that
Diane Sawyer is really as nice in person as she appears
to be on TV. I have a company gold credit card. My job
is to get direction from the Producer like 'That 70's Show
meets Paul Frank' and off I go with my credit card and
an iced coffee and hit store after store after store. I
carry a pocket full of heads shots and measurements
and then I huff it back to the set with a million bags
to iron for hours and prepare to 'dress the talent'.

Dressing the talent is funny. The girls always say,
'I can do it!' regarding putting their own shirts on over
their heads without getting makeup on their clothes
but this never works. They always mess up. We
change shirts and start again. The guys on the
other hand take direction well. When you hold
their T-shirt out for them they sort of dive in with
gusto as if they are going head first into a
swimming pool.

There is no ending to this blog because I am tired.
Goodnight.