My Miss L. She is a beauty. The only problem is that she is a young beauty. Scary to see photos of her sometimes as she looks soooo much older than she is. But then, you look closely and you see her youth in a detail here or there. In this particular case, Miss L had bought a dress for her friend’s school homecoming dance. I don’t even remember going to homecoming dances. For that matter, I don’t even know if we had homecoming dances. But then, I was not a rah, rah, high school girl. Miss L is not a rah, rah, HS girl but today, events like homecoming are ridiculously big events.

So, we went to Urban Outfitters and we found a cute dress that was not expensive. Of course it is put together with “spit” as the expression goes. That may be dating myself… There were several options of high heels already at home –as Miss L like high heels. But here is the thing, she will fuss over everything matching– hair, nails, shoes, etc. and yet, there she is in the picture looking beautiful except she is not wearing her high heels. She is wearing her sandals. Miss L always steps out to her own drum beat.

I could have told you regardless of which pair of high heels she chose to wear that night, that they would not be on her feet for more than 3 minutes.
Usually she wears 5 or 6″ heels and then feels uncomfortable because they make her very tall.

I looked at the picture and shook my head. “If you don’t want to wear heels, why not just get a nice pair of flats. You shouldn’t ruin your outfit with the sandals.” Her brother commented during this discussion on “I Chat” that her shoes were gross. But he is a looser from her perspective. And, she was disgusted with him at that moment as he had shared something about his college date she did not want to hear. Hmmm.

Needless to say, she was not open to my view or his. Still, I am glad that Miss L is stepping out regardless of whatever is on her feet.

Sometimes, I feel like I have a serious character flaw. I am so serious. Other times, I believe it to be my environment. Sadness often accompanies me. But, not always. Recently, my daughter said, “Let’s make a video and post it on Ben’s facebook page.” Of course I agreed.

We spent the next 2 hours making 6 videos which were posted on Ben’s wall, my wall and my sister’s wall. AND, we laughed and laughed. We laughed during the taping, we laughed after watching the videos, and we laughed that we had made them. I was exhausted but I also felt very much alive and relieved. It has been so long since I laughed so much and for so long. There were times, years ago when I would laugh easily — but not in a while.

My kids and I used to get hysterical laughing in the car over making stupid faces or making impersonations of make believe characters. I have always laughed easily with my children. I am grateful for the laughter I have shared with them.

When I was acting, I was able to be ridiculously silly at the drop of a hat. I was also able to be serious. Mostly these last years I have been serious. I am working on changing those things in my reality that create such heaviness. Here’s to more laughter and lightness in my life and in yours. I would always prefer to feel lighter than not. Wouldn’t you?

I try my best to be up to date with the internet. At times, it is a challenge. I just uploaded an ad I did for ghost writing, posted it on this site, saw it with my own eyes, but do not have a clue where it now resides.

Sometimes, I feel so behind the technology. Compared to many people of my age group I am brilliant when it comes to social networking etc. When it comes to younger folks , I am truly a dinosaur. The world moves soooooo fast these days. It is really hard to keep up. But then, I remember when I switched from typing on a manual typewriter to an electric and then to a computer. I never thought I would be able to write on the computer. Over the years, my process of writing incorporated the computer. And, I use less paper now then I did when I began. I still like holding a piece of paper in my hands — and I enjoy reading a book that I can hold. Hmm. Is my age showing?

Staying open, as they say, can be downright confusing. In an effort to find stable income or perhaps a more sizable income, I enrolled in a life, health and annuities class in preparation for the state exam. Step one, passed the classroom qualifying tests.

So, as I continue to move forward with this but I seek to make sense out of it with regards to who I am. I can’t. Plain and simple. How does this have anything to do with the arts. Nothing.

But forward I must go. To continue the push forward I actually have an interview at an insurance company 2moro. Even, stranger.
I don’t know anything about the position but I have heard good things about the company.

The master plan is to get to know how to sell and then become part of my friends company. That way, (the master plan) I can earn a respectable living and write as well. For most of my life, I have worked freelance. It is natural to want to continue on that path.

Another friend of mine tells me I can do it all. I can sell the insurance, write my books etc, give my workshops and anything else I want to do. I watch her. She is amazing. She decides this is what she needs and off she goes to get it. Maybe, if earning money weren’t always such a burden I might be freer with my writing.

As a final note, work on my two books proceeds

I went to an interview today for a writing instructor. The school was essentially a vocational school though it goes by the title of college.

The most fascinating part of the conversation centered around teaching writing. The student body is comprised of those who may have a language  barrier etc. They are not at this school to learn how to write well, at least they do not perceive that to be the case and the traditional college writing program will not apply. “Can you let go of your academic notions of teaching, can you find a way through humor to teach these kids what they need to know to succeed?” The challenge was presented to me plain and simple.

Of course, I stated, yes! But, it is not a simple task to teach writing to students. I know from my own experience the resistance we can carry with us about writing and writing well. At times, I still get intimidated by the rules. The one thing I do know is that I came to writing through writing, not through the rules. I grew sensitive to the language: the more I read and the more I wrote. “Perhaps,” I stated “we can read a novel, see the film, and work from there.” My interviewer looked at me, shook his head and stated plainly, “I don’t think you will get them to read the novel.”

Thus the challenge is how to teach through that kind of resistance. I believe that the core of the issue remains the same whether it is teaching at Harvard or at a career college. Writing is a form of communicating and the better one is at that skill, the better one can communicate in his or her job. It is certainly a challenge, it is an intellectual challenge as well but a challenge that could be very exciting and fun. I do see how being in such a situation can force one to expand her perspective on teaching.

Step one , the interview has been completed, step two is to do a demonstration to 4 administrators acting like students. I will keep my fingers crossed that I get to step two and then to the real challenge.

OK. I did it. I actually went to my 40th high school reunion and lived to talk about it. There was some anxiety about the trip -what would I look like next to all those others…How would my life fare next to others…BLah BLAh BLAH!

I believe I did fine. I really felt, at least most of the time, just like myself. I have changed so much over the years, as everyone has, that it is absurd to think we will some how be 17 again. Certainly, there were moments when insecurity reared its nasty head. But, those were fleeting moments.

I have always worried about measuring up to some bizarre standard. I am not sure where I came up with the standard, but I do know that it has not served me well.

I can remember discussing such issues when I would see my son trying to measure up against some unknown standard. From my perspective, he exceeded all “high school” measurements of success.

I should remember the next time I am feeling less than, that my ”feelings aren’t facts, they are just feelings.”

It was good to see some people.  I am glad that I moved through my weekend with ease and maybe even grace. But, I do surprise myself. After all, I did not return to the past. Instead, I was very much here in the present with people who I knew from the past drifting by…

For that I am grateful.

That is the title my son gave me the other day when I was talking about writing on my blog. Write about Laylah and me! He lifts this beautiful little bear dog, a yellow lab up in the air and states: I give you Cimba! OK.

We have a new puppy. OMG! It is worse than a baby. The first week I was up every night several times a night. Thankfully, the times up at night have been reduced to one with the day beginning early. Better but still…

Then there is potty training, as it is now called. Thank goodness for Ben. He and I take turns or shifts watching the pup. She is very funny and is smart. Though she is too little to have any control at all she does have the concept of going outside. There aren’t as many accidents as there could be.

My other dog, a 3 year old lab named Betsy was beside herself when Laylah arrived. She would not come to either Ben or I. She has gotten over her initial horror and sometimes even plays with Laylah. Of course, Laylah adores Betsy and can’t leave her alone.

The dog was to be my daughter’s. Yet, the timing of things didn’t quite work out. We drove a ridiculous number of hours each way to get Laylah and then my beautiful Ms. L left on a month long vacation the next morning. So, Ben and I have been hostages of a puppy that was not suppose to be our responsibility.

Ms. L comes home in a week for a day and then off she goes for another 10 days to a friend’s country house in the mountains.

It’s OK. Laylah can stay. She is a funny dog with lots of personality. But, I can assure you that she is the last baby dog I will ever get.

I am on the phone gathering information about an article I am writing on domestic violence. As I am speaking to the director of a shelter in South Florida, I hear shrieks: Ma! Ma! MAAAAAAh!. “Excuse me, ” I say, “I am sorry to interrupt , but my daughter is screaming.” With that, I run through the house, phone in hand, looking for my daughter. L…, are you alright? L….! 

Then I hear the shower on in the back bedroom and I know there is nothing really terrible happening. “What is it, L…? Ma. There is a lizard in the shower….” 

I turn around and start walking back to my office on the other side of the house. The woman on the phone states, “Go ahead. Take care of her.” “Oh please.” I retort. “She is 15 and everything is soooo dramatic.”  

Somehow, I can’t imagine my husband interrupting a phone conversation to follow her screaming. I would bet anything that he would choose to ignore it.  But then, that brings to mind when my daughter was a new born. I was interviewing women for a book. Luckily for me they came to my office which was in my home. Sometimes during an interview (they lasted several hours each) I would have to nurse my daughter. Often times, the women and I had a chuckle over the situation and couldn’t imagine  men proceeding with an interview while nursing.  

 L… would have had little luck in eliciting help from her dad in this instance anyway as he too hates lizards. Just another work moment in my life.

I shouldn’t apologize for being who I am, but I do see, at least at times, how different I am from the “normal” world.  Today, I went to an employment agency. It was really by accident that I happened to get there but I decided to follow through. I had to watch a video and then take a test on the video. I apparently did very well  Nothing to complicated. I then met with a counselor. I was told I needed to dumb down my resume as most of my work experience didn’t fit well into the receptionist, admin. asst. category.  If I weren’t so frustrated with myself, it might be funny. 

I have never wanted to work in an office in the traditional sense and so my experience in offices has been as a consultant or as a freelancer. I have taught, been on boards of organizations, worked as a workshop facilitator, speech writer to mention a few. I guess that doesn’t qualify me to work as an admin. asst.  Yet, as the conversation continued, I mentioned a job I thought I was originally applying for. It turns out that the job was for 3 lawyers. Oh boy. My husband, a trial lawyer, has wanted me to work with him while my job hunt continues.  So, that was ironic.

When I added that I thought I would fit fine into a communications dept. or a marketing dept. for a hosp., for example, she said, “yes, that would be a good fit only we just do clerical staff…” OK. Wrong employment agency.

Then I think, I should really work with my husband (that presents a whole other set of issues) part time and do my writing a few days a week. I just got two assignments today. One I am excited about as it has to do with domestic violence. No, I am not excited about domestic violence but about researching and interviewing people associated with addressing the issue. (Just to be clear…) And my friend, who wants me to help her write a book about children, addiction, and mental illness wants to get started on the project next week.  

Maybe the universe is giving me a message. Maybe I should stop trying to orchestrate  the whole thing and go with the flow. Wow– that sounds like an article I write several years ago. Hmm.  

I do wish, that I could support myself writing what I want to write about.

It has been an emotionally rough several weeks. Nothing specific except my endless need to beat myself up.  While I can make that statement, I become aggravated with my husband should he state something similar. I don’t need him to point out my failings, I excel at paying attention to my flaws. Anyway, my mood has been pretty “sucky” as they say, despite the joy of having my son home. But, he and my daughter do bring such lightness into my being. 

Today was father’s day. A few of my family came for the afternoon. My dad, who celebrated his 88th birthday this past week and my mom were here. The day was pleasant but I was eager for everyone to leave so that my son, my daughter, and her friend who is staying with us for a couple of weeks could go to the movies. We decided to see Year One. My husband didn’t want to go, he is not a big fan of Jack Black’s, and these days not a big fan of mine…

I find books and movies to be a great release for me. I laughed so hard throughout the movie. My daughter was laughing at me as I was gasping for breath. I seriously related to the absurdity of many of the moments in the film. I am reminded of the time when I saw The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy and there were literally two people screaming with laughter in the theatre– me and the man behind me.  I do so enjoy a good laugh. I have always been that way. When I was acting, my friends and I were always fooling around and laughing. It just feels sooooo good after a big long laugh.

I needed that laugh and the universe answered.  My children are always willing to laugh along with me and so we do imitations and weird voices and faces and then laugh. Because of his musical ability, my son does great voices and dialects.  He allows me to express a part of myself that has gotten lost –for that I am grateful. 

Perhaps I need to rent all those crazy movies that have made me laugh hard and long. I know I need a bit of healing these days.