we are all born knowing magic...

less/more/more/less

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 00:37:28 GMT

See Adele's Chasing Pavements video.

G-d has a sense of humor

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 07:32:22 GMT

And Farrah has cancer and Grama's got about a week left, I hear. And life is going really well so there's nothing like a bit of tragedy to balance it all out.

Someone said a prayer that Grama would make it through. Not to be picky but I ask, if you're going to say a prayer, pray that she is happy and unafraid, and the family is closer to being at peace now and in the coming days and weeks and months and years, that the mourning period will not be debilitating, that our blood bonds will be stronger and our zest for life renewed. I like to think that if this spunky old bird who outlived most of her friends could communicate that now she would.

a toast

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 17:20:04 GMT

And on my hands down favorite holiday, I wish to those that I have loved and who have helped me grow, a day to be thankful, a day to be shared, and a day worthy of going down in the books with good cheer.

Paula Deen actually deep fried stuffing on a stick AND cranberry sauce this year. That girl is nuts. Love it.

I hope you are all happy and healthy this holiday season. I raise my glass to next year and the years after that, when we have the same reasons and more to be thankful for.

Cheers y'all, and best dishes. Happy Thanksgiving.

theatre in los angeles? what?

Sat, 29 Sep 2007 19:14:17 GMT

Mark your calendars now, November 2 and 3, The Merchant of Venice at The Trestage on Sunset and La Brea. I'm in it. It's going to rock pretty hard.

Also, there's this kickass performance art piece going on (it's opening weekend and I think there's a six-week run) at the theatre called The Seven Deadly Sins. Guess what the show's about. www.ethostheatrecompany.org for tickets.

Thu, 27 Sep 2007 07:40:06 GMT

Do you ever think about everyone around you as characters in the story of your life in which you are the leading lady (or man, as the case may be)? People who are recurring characters, some extras, some guest stars, some series regulars...

And then the fact that you're a character in everyone else's stories...kinda puts the pressure on to play your roles well.

I don't know about the plot in mine just yet but I'm sure it's character driven. I've got a killer soundtrack though, I tell you what.

i'm grateful to be alive- even happy at times- but...

Tue, 28 Aug 2007 10:48:30 GMT

what wouldn't i do to go a day without experiencing depression, anguish, pain, longing, the unfairs and the cruels....

...just one day.

theme song for the past year

Sat, 25 Aug 2007 16:48:32 GMT

Good morning, son.
I am a bird
Wearing a brown polyester shirt
You want a coke?
Maybe some fries?
The roast beef combo's only $9.95
It's okay, you don't have to pay
I've got all the change
Everybody knows
It hurts to grow up
And everybody does
It's so weird to be back here
Let me tell you what
The years go on and
We're still fighting it, we're still fighting it
And you're so much like me
I'm sorry
Good morning, son
In twenty years from now
Maybe we'll both sit down and have a few beers
And I can tell you 'bout today
And how I picked you up and everything changed
It was pain
Sunny days and rain
I knew you'd feel the same things
Everybody knows
It sucks to grow up
And everybody does
It's so weird to be back here.
Let me tell you what
The years go on and
We're still fighting it, we're still fighting it
You'll try and try and one day you'll fly
Away from me
Good morning, son
I am a bird
It was pain
Sunny days and rain
I knew you'd feel the same things
Everybody knows
It hurts to grow up
And everybody does
It's so weird to be back here.
Let me tell you what
The years go on and
We're still fighting it, we're still fighting it
Oh, we're still fighting it, we're still fighting it
And you're so much like me
I'm sorry

Hooray for Hollywood: raising the rant

Mon, 20 Aug 2007 07:17:14 GMT

So I applied in October to bartend at a shmancy Burbank restaurant that had at least a 3 part interview. They call me last week to come in. I make it through the first two interviews and then get a call from the GM telling me they had decided not to go further with the process. Okay, I understand, I tell him that he's missing out and he says if that's the case he'll keep me on file. I call the other manager that I had a feeling was rooting for me and tell him thanks for that and thanks for the opportunity. He appreciates it.

I get a call the next night from the manager who I thought was rooting for me. He tells me he found me attractive and that if it wasn't out of line, he'd like to take me out. I say it would have been out of line if he had hired me and I'll get back to him.

Which makes me wonder just how much sexual harassment and discrimination I'm going to have to put up with in my lifetime. I felt it as "the jew" in my college class and I feel it now as a woman who missed out on a great job because she is not wholly unattractive and therefore was apparently created for the sole purpose of groping. Don't get me wrong, I believe that men and women are different and I don't necessarily believe that equal opportunity laws have the power to really overcome those differences. But if we are lucky enough to have those laws, it sucks when we have to let people get away with bending them at the expense of others, and sucks worse when it happens to ourselves.

So let's raise our glasses, shall we, to choosing battles wisely.

time

Sat, 18 Aug 2007 17:39:16 GMT

I think I'm finally starting to get a clue as to my role in my own life and my responsibilities to others. This is interesting. I tell you what, there's nothing like a little death in the family surrounded by months spent thinking about the future to give you hindsight for the past, even time before college I had gleefully stowed away for so long--respectfully, lovingly, and with the substitution of wisdom of experience for judgment.

As I approach the one-year mark in L.A. this week, I realize I have finally experienced a year of my life spending more time with myself than anyone else and I have to say--it was a brutal year. Myself and I spent quite a bit of time crying our eyes out and letting the weight of all these years start to slip away a bit--just the burdens, not the joyful moments or the knowledge I've gained. I happen to think we're getting better every day, we're healing, and we're at the place now where there's this endless world of opportunity out there and I only have to figure out where to start pursuing my dreams and which projects to focus on first, because now they are clearer and more plentiful than ever before.

As selfish as this is, and I'm not apologizing for it being so, I just wish I had someone else to try and talk some of these things out with that it wouldn't be a burden to. I can't afford a therapist but I wonder, after all these years of swearing up and down that I'm a great friend, have I really done what I've needed, have I really listened hard enough to others to have earned that they should simply listen in return without rambling back about their own shit and offering unsolicited advice? Not really. But I want a good friend locally anyway, a more available support system, and will continue to focus on being a better listener so maybe I can get it--it's all about self serving in the end, no?

I don't want to try to sum up a year well spent on a livejournal entry. I will attempt to make my amends as the high holidays approach but for now, I hear Shakespeare calling my name. Moving forward all the time.

all of it.

Mon, 13 Aug 2007 17:29:04 GMT

well dammit, why not?

Fri, 10 Aug 2007 20:37:57 GMT

fuck

Tue, 07 Aug 2007 16:56:59 GMT

Grampa died this morning.

ok seriously dude

Sat, 21 Jul 2007 00:01:49 GMT

Please help! This is taking far too long for headshots I don't like in shirts that don't fit. I know. I need your input unless you've already given it to me. I've narrowed down to 6, 36, 39, 62, 72.

http://www.poyeyphotos.com/clients/ilana%2Disaacson%2Dproofs/index.htm

THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU

Mon, 09 Jul 2007 20:21:43 GMT

I will be in Florida from Friday (the 13th--yipes!) at 7am until Wednesday evening (July 18). Do with this information what you will.

Theatre

Mon, 02 Jul 2007 16:23:37 GMT

There is something magical that happens on the opening and closing nights of a show. There is something otherworldly that happens when both of those nights occur at the same time. This is why we do what we do. Happy and satisfied and eager for the next project.

Also, cooking schools--anyone know anything about them? Recommendations and advice welcome.

Updates

Tue, 26 Jun 2007 22:06:24 GMT

1. Friday night at the Museum of Architecture and Design- unveiling of the new Danish art exhibit, a wedding, a party, and strong drinks poured by yours truly. Come one, come all for a honka honka good time.

2. Sunday night, 8pm at the Museum of Architecture and Design- needtheatre's self-created production of LaLaLa, featuring a kick ass (literally--there's a 3 minute girl fight in the show) ensemble including yours truly, live dj and full bar for $15. Come one, come all for a honka honka good time.

3. Thursday nights all summer at B.B. King's Blues Club- Stevie Wonder plays and kisses cheeks, food and cocktail service by yours truly. Come one, come all, you get the idea.

4. Weekend of July 19-22ish- perhaps for the last time, the whole family will be in SoFla. Everyone say a little prayer for Grampa. Bad news from the doc today, let's hope he makes it to 90 on September 7.

5. Tommorrow- my online proof sheets for new headshots will be posted. Anyone who wants to provide input I'll be happy to mail you the link.

There's more going on but I hope everyone is happy and healthy. Even you. Especially you. xoxo

Morality

Wed, 09 May 2007 01:56:32 GMT

Donating eggs. Starting price is $5,000-10,000. Prices increase for more popularly requested genes, such as certain physical features, lack of history of family illnesses, or even religious backgrounds. For example, a couple offered $500,000 for an egg donor that was an Ivy League student who was 5'10" or taller and scored at least 1400 on her SATs. It is allegedly quite a painful procedure. If you choose to donate your eggs, you may also choose to remain confidential, though the couple you are donating to will have access to any and all of your history that might affect their child rearing, from the amount of people in your family who have had an eating disorder to the time you smoked your first cigarette.

Your thoughts? Opinions?

Aaaaand go.

and another thing...

Wed, 18 Apr 2007 11:00:53 GMT

why is it always my fault if the communication fails?

the vibe lately: a haiku

Wed, 11 Apr 2007 07:02:52 GMT

my best ain't enough
how to make the best bester?
i would like to know

doo pa doo pa doo

Fri, 23 Mar 2007 22:04:34 GMT

when i was four my favorite bands were manhattan transfer, the beatles, and peter paul and mary, which i listened to on my pop's record player.
my favorite books were morris has a cold, there's a party at mona's tonight, and elizabeth and larry.
my favorite colors were pink and purple and my boyfriend's name was daniel. he was a very modern bloke and introduced me to mario 2 on nintendo. i took ballet and tap dancing and reading classes and i wore a tutu.
i loved playing dress up and lite brite and wearing a bathing suit to go swimming in the tub.
i hated brushing my teeth and loved the smell of my granpapi's pipe and my pop's marlboro reds.
my best friends were laura flora dora, whose mother was bette midler's voice teacher, and emily, who had hair past her butt.
we had a dark brown couch and i would lay on my pop's belly and he'd put a pillow on his chest for my head and we'd watch spaceballs.
my nose used to wake me up every few nights around midnight or so, when my parents ordered chinese food. we called it a nightmare snack, and i had already been eating with chopsticks for two years.
every saturday morning we went to nana's for brunch and she always had chocolate milk for my brother and me. my brother would have the honors of shaking up the chocolate milk to mix it and he always did a funny chocolate milk shaking dance.
one time i accidentally picked up the box that had nana's old dog nicky's ashes in it and started trying to open it. i got in trouble and then broke her bed with my head.
i also got in trouble that year because we were trying to rent out the apartment and i found a marker in the bathroom one day and thought that the white grout between the tiles would look much better in dark blue. that was the only time my whole life my moms ever gave me a patch-kie. she wore scrunched socks and reebok hi-tops with two velcros across the top and put my hair in a ponytail on the side.

and that's most of year four in a nutshell--some of it blends together with year five, methinks. i'm missing a few things...

When it rains it pours...and leaks in my windowsill.

Sun, 25 Feb 2007 04:13:02 GMT

Crazy times, y'all...crazy times.

How are you?

ohgoodlord

Sun, 24 Dec 2006 10:52:37 GMT

Uh, yeah. So I feel like I could write a subchapter of a Claudia Shear bit tonight called Adventures at Outback (working title). The following events actually occurred this evening, in order:

4pm. I arrive at the restaurant after 4 days of being ill, still hacking up my lungs, wondering how much longer I can put off telling my mother I can't find my cell phone. I recognize it may not be much longer but hope that I'll see Sharon for the first time in 24 hours.

402pm. After a mini-search around the area where I parked last night, I see Sharon. I run desperately to her because the 2 feet between us takes too long to walk. I tell her that I hoped she'd come home last night so I could use her phone to call mine. I tell her about my lonely day without my phone and my inability to locate it because, without her and her cell phone at the apartment, there is no other means by which to call and hopefully hear the melodious tones of the cell phone ring that is mine. She apologizes for the inconvenience and hopes she can make it home tonight.

403pm. I am quadruple sat, including a table that insists on telling me how to do my job at every opportunity they have. This table is here straight from the hospital, where Grandpa has just been released from knee surgery and recovery.

410pm. I am rushing around getting 4 tables' worth of drinks. The toddler at the aforementioned table screams at me from across the restaurant, "MOM! COME HERE!" I stop by. His mother informs me that he calls everyone Mom. I am relieved.

412pm. I finally am able to tear myself from toddler without him screaming at me to come back.

413pm. "MOOOOOM! COME HEEERE!!!"

414pm. The guy at the other table downs a 22oz Coke in front of me while I take his order. As I go to refill the insanely large mug, something occurs to me. I want to slit my wrists. This is going to be a long night.

415-627pm. The usual. There's a contest tonight--every time a customer compliments a server to the manager, that server's name is written down and placed in a bag to be raffled off at the end of the night- the name picked wins a $50 gift certificate to a restaurant.

628pm. Ryan offers to relieve me while I take a half hour break. I accept.

635pm. I run over to the Verizon store a few doors down from the restaurant.

636pm. I check in with the greeter. He tells me to wait at customer service and points toward technical service and lets me know they'll call my name shortly.

641pm. Tech support tells me I need to wait at customer service. They point.

641 and 30 seconds pm. I talk to a guy at customer service and quickly explain my very common dilemma. He looks next to me at the hot chick the other guy is helping while I do so. He then points up to a screen and tells me to wait my turn.

642-647pm. I watch 5 customer service guys sit silently and help no one.

648-701pm. I am helped by customer service but still have no phone.

702pm. I stop at the nail salon on the way back to work and acquire some tissues. My nose is sore.

704pm. I come back to work and my tables are all getting up. I relieve Ryan of his duties and am immediately double sat with a smaller table and a 9-top.

734-756pm. A 10 year old kid at the 9-top takes a huge bite of steak, forgets to chew, and swallows. It hurts him. He runs to the bathroom and tries to puke it up. He swears he is choking. His father panics, watches him throw up blood (no coincidence that he was eating a medium rare steak with ketchup), tries to give him the Heimlich. He insists we call 911 because he is choking. I insist that, because he has the breath to tell me to call 911, he's not choking. As I calm the entire family down, my manager calls the paramedics just in case. The kid lays there shaking and telling me he's going to die.

757-813pm. The paramedics show up and make the same conclusion I did about what happened. To appease the kid, they take him down to the hospital just in case.

814pm. The remaining party members ask for to go boxes. They leave a nice tip.

815-1017pm. The usual.

1018pm. A manager calls out that she is going to draw the name for the contest winner. I am excited, as out of the 7 entries in the bag, 3 are mine.

1019pm. Andy wins the contest.

1020-1033pm. The usual. A last party of 5 walks in before closing at 11.

1034pm. A party of 8 walks in. Only 5 are present. They choose to wait for their friends in traffic to arrive to place an order.

1115pm. Everyone has arrived. I take the order. They are having a gift exchange.

1148pm. Everyone's food has arrived and they are merrily enjoying it when they tell me they have another friend coming. I take an order over the phone and try to see if the kitchen can do it.

1152pm. The manager comes out to tell them no. They whine something about it being the guy's birthday. It's a lie. We bring them a birthday sundae later anyway.

1245am. They ask for the check. I assemble it and start looking wearily at the mountain of gift wrap they've left on the floor and the steak I think they've actually crushed into the seats.

105am. They ask me questions about things they thought I had rung up incorrectly. When I rang up 6 juices, they told me there were 8 on the check. I ask them to show me. They do not.

110am. The one guy who didn't actually eat anything pays the bill.

127am. I leave the restaurant and drive home.

144am. Sweet home. I look in Sharon's room for her phone to try and call mine but I think she's sleeping on hers. I hope mine doesn't run out of batteries before I have a chance to call and hopefully find it. I decide to shower instead.

232am. Anton and his friend come busting through my door and making a lot of noise. I whisper that Sharon is sleeping. They quiet down a bit and Anton goes to Sharon's room while his friend sits next to me and has a few bites of his $6 Carl's Jr. Burger.

234am. After waking up Sharon, who has also been sick all week, Anton decides to leave. He doesn't acknowledge me as he goes and his friend packs up his burger, tells me it was nice to meet me and runs out with a mouthful of burger.

235am. Sharon steps out of her room and into the living room, looks both ways, then looks at her phone. I ask what the hell happened and she looks confused, turns, goes back to her room, closes the door, and blows her nose. I haven't heard from her since.

249am. I finally finish this post. I'm tired. But as with all logical minds, they gave the Jew the day shift tomorrow, on Christmas Eve. I'll be there at 1pm to do it all again. Happy Holidays, all.

Happy Chanukah

Thu, 21 Dec 2006 01:53:39 GMT

I'b siiick.

I can't get up because I get dizzy and fall down.

The soup I got is tasty but it scratches my throat.

I hope someone will work for me tomorrow.

Somehow I've just watched most of season one of Project Runway. Disgusting.

I wish I could sleep.

All this aside, life is good. Really good. Mom came to visit last week but it's nice, in a way, to be forced to be alone most of the time. I'm learning a lot from my other personalities.

Fin, for now.

wuv...twu wuv...

Fri, 27 Oct 2006 23:31:23 GMT

My mom just wrote me an awesome email from the ss Volendaam. She and my pops are cruising for 10 days. They were telling one of the many nice old couples that they're celebrating their 30th anniversary (Halloween) and the husband said, "Hey Mable, do you remember our 30th?" Mable responded that he had to speak up, she don't hear so good...my parents are comparative newlyweds and that's awesome. They say the next cruise they do will leave out of LA- Hawaii cruise or something like that, and I'm coming. Brilliant. And hilarious. I'm so glad their anniversary celebration is incomplete without me.

I can't believe how amazing my parents' relationship is. I hope that after 30 years with someone I can give and receive the same looks my parents still give each other.

Sun, 24 Sep 2006 04:42:34 GMT

I miss the family.

I'm sorry.

Shana Tova y'all.