#18 Mini Morning

Lately, I don't know if there's anything to wake up from. What I mean is that there's no definitive morning. I fall asleep. I wake up. I fall asleep. I wake up. I don't know what my first "morning thoughts" really are.

This morning, I don't get out of bed easily. Juno, the blizzard of 2015, has blanketed the city. It's not so much of a blanket as it is a sheet.

I pick up my phone for some  bullshit validation on some supurfluous Facebook status I wrote. 23 likes. "Well, that's a significant amount", I think to myself but it doesn't fill the void.

The void.

I was supposed to be on a TV show today but that got pushed back and I was also supposed to see Louis CK tonight but the show was canceled. So, I go to work.

I think I just heard Seagulls. Is that even possible? From my window, I hear a man cough. Juno has quieted the city if nothing else...except for the seagulls and that dude.

#17

First thought: Why must I wake and immediately look at emails?

I started (although slowly) doing what's called the "Morning Pages" as mentioned in a prior blog, these pages come from the book The Artists Way (which I've had for years and have only skimmed through even until this very moment). Half measures avail us nothing. Some of you will know what I'm talking about. I really should read it thoroughly. Anyway, I realize that it's probably the best and most creative thing I can do for myself --write out what's going on in my head in the morning. Clear the cobwebs & unscramble the mind to give myself some clarity.

Some topics from the pages include : "I can't see" and "Why am I looking at my phone?", "Emails & texts", "It doesn't matter", "Kevin Spacey" (I watched House of Cards before going to bed), "Mario  Cuomo" (his recent passing), "I have to get up", "I don't think I can do this ", "How will I spend my first day off in days?" and "It's cold under my feet". These are just flashes of thought that race through my mind. It's 10:20am and by 10:42 am, I'm exhausted with just how quickly I've run this race.

I don't know how this writing will unfold as I continue . It is a new exercise for me and I'm already out of breath.

I put up a pot of coffee and I play some music. That's actually a bit of a meditation. I try to figure out how I'm going to plot my day to propel my career and manifest my dreams. I don't really say this kind of shit and I'm perplexed as to why I've just written it.

It's raining and I can hear the Super handling the trash in the alley below. When I think of an alley, I think of some clandestine spot down by the Bowery in the 1940's. I'm on the upper east side; to me it's just a space in between two buildings. Alley. Meet me in the alley. I got a package for you.

I'm listening to Nina Simone. "It's a new dawn, it's a new day and I'm feeling good."

I don't know if I'm feeling good necessarily but this song motivates me to get up and get more coffee.

There's a lyric-something about "blossom on the trees" and I stare at my decaying Christmas tree (on January 12th) wondering how or who is going to help me take it down. It's a bummer not having someone. But it's sometimes a bummer having someone.  All of the sudden I hear construction outside. It's raining and I think what a bummer that must be for the men working in the rain. "Bummer" has just become my go to word.

I am clearly not awake yet and more coffee will be consumed. It just got quiet again. Now, all I hear is the rain. It's comforting. I don't have control over it. It's peaceful to know when you really don't have control over anything and letting go of manipulating things in my mind relaxes me again. I'll take yoga. I'll visit with friends. I'll try to do some good. I'll clean. I'll organize. I'll listen to more music. I'll catch up on some news… relentless news.

I think it's time to get moving.

#16 Christmas Eve Morning

SOBER SEASON

This time of year can be particularly hard for people depending on one's life circumstances. We watch various scenarios play out in the news, experience pressures at work and with family.  Relationships of any kind can feel taxed & overwhelming. The mask of trying to be happy for the holiday's can take a toll. It's almost as if there is a magnifying glass on your life exaggerating the good, the bad and the ugly. I'd say it's tantamount to looking at the holiday season as if you were standing in front of a funhouse mirror.  There are people, places & things, coming at you in all shapes and sizes and from all directions. Clowns. There are some clowns too...and they mock you.

Every year I have the belief that somehow the current holiday season will be better than its predecessor.

Do I have expectations?

Maybe--or maybe I just have the exuberance of spirit that remains from my childhood. That said, I'm an adult now so I just try to keep things in the present moment and not let perceived pressures or the ghosts of holidays past get to me.

From a practical standpoint, all looks fine and actually IS fine...because I am sober.

On January 2, 2015, I will celebrate 19 years of sobriety. Considering the career I'm in, and the fact that I'm surrounded by a plethora of personalities and alcohol on a regular basis, this is no small accomplishment.

 

New Year's Eve of 1995, I had already been sober for two years, when I left a failed marriage and moved back to nyc to pursue an acting career. I supplemented that career by working in a restaurant while also working as a hostess, waitress and bartender at a noted comedy club in NYC.

On that fateful night in '95 (and even with two years of sobriety under my belt), I experienced what I believed was a personal "rejection".

Heartbroken and not having the emotional wherewithal to handle situation, I instead, poured myself the most heinous drink one could imagine--an amaretto sour. The truth of the matter was that I thought it would be less harmful than a "real" drink but as the night wore on, the amaretto sour turned into straight bourbon and so on and so on and so forth and blah blah blah and mess.

The following morning, when I stared into an actual mirror (not one of the funhouse variety) I didn't recognize myself. I felt hollow.

Send in the clowns.

So, on January 2, 1996, I once again raised my hand and committed to my recovery.  In the years that followed, I was able to get back on track. Slowly, the dreams of my youth unfolded and a path became clear that led me to the career I have now. Tragedy + timing = comedy.

I've had a lot of help along the way and I certainly didn't do it alone. Call it faith or whatever you want but I also had a belief in something bigger than myself that would carry me through. Trees. Yes, I'm a tree hugger.

I've had a number of different roles in the comedy business-- Executive Assistant, General Manager (of various clubs), Talent Booker, Entertainment Director, Producer, Comic and Actress. I've also worked in television production and there was a brief stint as a paralegal at a law firm (when the industry wasn't so kind but my civilian friends were).

Through the years, I have restored and repaired damaged relationships, helped numerous others, been a source of comfort to my father, a devoted sister and a pretty decent person all around.

So now it's Christmas Eve morning of 2014. The nature of life is such that my family is scattered all around and we're all so busy. Social media & phone calls close the gap though and are a way we can keep tabs on each other.

Tonight, I'll be working in the role that allows me to put smiles on peoples’ faces (no, I will not be doing comedy or stripping). I'll be managing the funny & hopefully keep things running smoothly.  I’ll be surrounded by people I genuinely love to be around. I'm also content with the knowledge that my father is resting comfortably at home in Florida awaiting the gift that I sent him (that he will most likely want to return later to get it’s monetary value).

It's not the Christmas Eve of my dreams because in my dreams I'm whisked away to some romantic location with my partner! There’s a sleigh involved! That sort of thing! It is a whirlwind romantic great time!

In another less selfish version of my dream I am with my partner, Leonardo DiCaprio (hey, it's my dream!), and we have a festive dinner with family and friends but we also donate charitable goods, help others and save the environment.

Clearly, neither of these scenarios are unfolding this year but the year isn't quite up yet, is it?

Well, a gal can dream... and hope…but all bets are off if I have another amaretto sour.

So, from this Jew to you—Have a very Merry Christmas and wonderful New Year!

#15

The Artist's Way has been collecting dust (I know you're already bored but read on) under the night table next to my bed for years. Those "Morning Pages" that everyone suggests you write were derived from that book. Repeatedly, people have suggested I do "Morning Pages". Truth is, I rarely want to read  or do something everyone has told me I should read or do, despite however good it might be.  I also like to do things my way...by making mistakes. That said, the name of this blog is "Mornings" and mine were busy over the last few months.

From a practical sense, there's no time to hand write or type. In a prior blog, I mentioned this. For stream of consciousness, I "talk to text". Such is the case now.  In the months since I last spoke into this device (my cellphone), there were situations in my life that were emotionally weighty.  Notably, with my former roommate and my father's health issues.

I went through a considerable amount money trying to keep my head above water during this time and it was my work that kept me from losing everything and going crazy...even though that work is in a comedy club. I find my balance in this kind of insanity.  I love my job so when times get particularly tough, there's usually some comic around to tell me how much I suck as a human being and that usually puts a smile on my face. Get it? I like the opposite of stuff!

Over the summer, I didn't want to add more conflict to an already uncomfortable situation at home, so I spent a good deal of time away from my apartment.  Here and there, I sprinkled in a few days at the Jersey Shore & Fire Island and there was also a trip to see my father.

In no particular order, Palestinians & Jews, Isis, Ebola, Ferguson, Bill Cosby and Kim Kardashian's ass loomed in the news... but mostly it was Kim Kardashian's ass.

Consequently, The Red Light Podcast disbanded. Yes! It was because of all THESE things we disbanded or maybe it was that some of the girls got boyfriends but, in all honesty, we discussed that we really needed to revamp and retool the thing if we were ever to resume it.  So, I'm not not sure what will come of it but if you haven't yet heard us, our episodes are available at: newyorkcomedyworld.com or www.theredlight.podomatic.com

 

With that, I wish you all a pleasant start to the month of December and the holiday season! I'm going to redecorate my soul (kidding) and my apartment (not kidding).

As for you all, be nice...it's less boring than you think.

#14 THANK YOU

Clearly, there are some mornings we wake up and we are just in a foul mood but that has not been the case for me the past two weeks or three weeks since I last wrote. 

Moreover, I have been humbled by the fact that there are just things that are outside of my control. Rather than fight those things, I've tried to accept them and work constructively to appease whatever the situations are that are most distressing in my life on any given day.

Dealing with family matters, financial matters, relationship matters, business matters can all seem so overwhelming and not everyone likes the answers you'll give them (especially if they're not the ones they want to hear).

In the end, you answer to one authority-your own, God or whatever your concept of a higher power may be.

That said, this is the first time in weeks I've had a moment alone to collect my thoughts (as much as I can) and I'm overlooking the East River on a very warm yet breezy day.

For the moment I seem to have satisfied everyone's requests of me.  Contrary to what it may seem (to some), I few demands (of others). Just being fair and decent human being is typically my only request (expectation).  That, in itself, can often be met with difficulty.

(Oh, and once in a while I just need some quiet. Shush it.)

Recently, I came back from visiting my father. He is 88 years old and he is doing as well as can be for a man his age but his needs are many and they consume my thoughts a good deal of the time. Underlying most things I do, are thoughts of my father-- alone--and how I can comfort him from a distance.

I speak to him twice sometimes three times a day and go down to see him as often as I can. It's all I can do for now.

My outlet is comedy. Comedy in all it's forms helps me handle most anything. I am blessed to be working in a profession that brings me great joy.

Many of us try to achieve success and go at it with a shark like appetite and that is fine (and to some degree I respect that) but often times we fail to realize that those in a position to help us have lives as well--families and responsibilities and more than a handful of people that they have to answer to on any given day (not to mention the general public).

Perhaps if we thought about this a little bit more, we would be less inclined to bug the crap out of people for the things we think we need. 

So, for today I am grateful. I have a roof (that I work extremely hard to maintain) and a job and friends and love from the people I know that love me (and who I love in return). 

If you have any one of these you're luckier than you may realize. 

Maybe say thank you.

#13 This morning I remember.

When the weather gets warm, I wake and walk to work through Central Park. Whenever I pass the Heckscher softball field, I always think of Jimmy; a stocky, gruff, cigar smoking character that used to pitch for the team that my ex-husband played for. My ex used to say "don't bug Jimmy too much, he can get us tickets to Broadway shows and great seats to ballgames".  I guess I was prone to bugging people back then but I certainly wasn't aware of it.

Sitting on the bench, I would just grab my beer and cheer on the guys as they played. Familiar calls of "wait for it" and "take your pitch" would fill the air.  The days seemed slower then. Maybe it was the pot. I'm smiling.

Jimmy kind of scared me a little bit. Lord knows, based on what my ex said, I didn't want to get on Jimmy's bad side. I mean, who doesn't like going to Broadway shows or great games and having good seats? I feared all of their wraths! Jimmy was clearly the leader of the group though as he ordered the guys to do this or that or grab this or that and everybody just followed his direction.

It wasn't until my marriage ended and I moved back to New York from Florida that Jimmy became my friend. I think the year was '96 and I was working for a high-profile comedy club. Jimmy would come by and look in on me and take me to dinner every now and then.  I remember we went to see the Lion King. Through the years, we would see each other and the visits were always memorable with great food and great conversation. Sometimes we would go on long drives throughout the city and Jimmy would point out historical facts. Whenever I was heartbroken (which was often enough) or financially unstable, he would always palm me a little money and he was always there. For one of my birthdays, he surprised me taking a group of my friends and I to see Rock of Ages on Broadway and then we all went to dinner. Jimmy did things big. He was big!

The day before Father's Day last year, Jimmy sent me a text and asked me where I was and I said I was with my father in Florida.  He knew that meant I couldn’t talk as my father is getting older and commands all of my attention. The following day I received a call from Jimmy's friend (who's number I had stored in my phone from having spent time with him, his wife and Jimmy) who wanted to let me know that Jimmy had passed away that very night. I never got the chance to really say goodbye to him but these are the things about Jimmy that I came to know and love and that will be missed and remembered--

Although Jimmy was an intimidating presence, he was a poet, a musician and an artist. He was a dreamer who never fully realized his dreams. He was also a man that was committed to people and causes in the extreme; to the point where he would give you the shirt off his back (cliché, I know) if he could.  He was as hard as he was sensitive.

Our relationship was one of pure friendship. I knew that I reminded him of a very innocent time and place in his life--when it was all about softball, sunshine, friends and (for some) beer.

(As an aside, I have not had a drink over 18 years and Jimmy had stopped as well)

I've known people that have loved Bob Dylan but not to the extent that Jimmy did and I've known people who could quote from innumerable poets & authors. When Jimmy quoted Bob Dylan or anyone, it was the most apropos quote for the situation.

Jimmy carried the weight of the world, your world and his world on his back and it was precisely that heaviness that was probably his undoing. His heart was laden.

As Father's Day approaches and I think of my own father who has not been well and who I will soon be visiting, I also think of Jimmy and the times we spent together. I think of my ex-husband and I think of innocence and hope.

"The only thing that is constant is change" is a quote from Heraclitus
 and that is certainly true. Heraclitus also said, “Time is a game played beautifully by children.”

So it is.

Love and remember.

#12

It was dull outside. I heard the distant sounds of morning traffic. No birds that I recall. Is it ever going to be summer? I fumble for my phone. Morning tweets of atrocities going on in the world and then...what?!...when did Sam Champion leave GMA? What the? How did I miss that? My priorities are beyond screwed.

Anyway, it looks like it might rain but I don't take an umbrella because I'm a rebel (but really it's because I just don't want to carry one more thing).

I'm relaxed today--wearing jeans and a black shirt and my Converse All-star basketball sneakers. I've said it just like that since I was 10. "I'm wearing my Converse All-star basketball sneakers" and that's that! I also say things like "Stereophonic unit" but that's another story.

I heard that Irish Mike died. We were probably around the same age. Actually, he might have been younger but years of alcohol abuse made that impossible to determine. I didn't know him well but in his more lucid moments he was a seemingly nice guy, a helpful one and genuinely liked by most who came in contact with him. He just couldn't get it (sober) and maybe he never wanted to get it having lost his wife and children in a bad accident years ago. It was more than sad but I can't tell you in all honesty that I didn't expect it and it is a sad thing to expect.

The thing is--no matter how bad it gets, I just don't want to let the bad win. There are too many things in life that make it worth living.

Last night, as I walked home at dusk through Central Park, I was surprised that there were not more people about to witness its splendor and at the same time I felt it was a treat for me...having the park almost all to myself. Still, serene and magical. I had no home. I had no age. I just was.

Did I lose you? Fine. Back to comedy.

What I'm trying to say is that many times we think we know what's ahead but we don't. Plans are ideas we try to set in motion and the "best laid plans of mice and men" (there I go again).

Man, all I'm saying is that I want to be around to see it all...all the possibilities. To take part in the conversation and mostly to laugh...

even and if mostly at myself.