Tag Archives: reboot

Hello, From Away

18 Jul

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I’ve been kidnapped by friends to a two-story cabin on the Sound somewhere on the peninsula.

…In the last 21 hours I’ve cried (from laughing), sped through country mountain roads (in an orange, 1960’s convertible Mustang), walked the tide-flats, let the ocean lap and salt-water sooth away my Joan Crawford bloating, back pain and pressure, ate a homecooked carne asada with fresh everything marrying so many flavor bonus surprises, the tongue was on multiple orgasm delight.

…We siesta’d on the back porch with frothy fresh margaritas, watched the waves at magic hour, read a play so late into twilight, we finished with candles whipping their light every-which-way…too stubborn to stop or go inside. Later: attacking a cheesecake on a plate between us, each with fork in-hand…laughing and chatting late into the night.

…Awoke in the loft bedroom, by the sun poking in through the giant windows. Downstairs, side-steped a morning breathing and yoga regime by Lady M, to fresh coffee, and out with bedhead and no makeup to the already toasty deck.

“Think I’m gonna take a morning dip, in a bit…the water is just too delish,” The Prof says, in greeting.

“Mmm. Coffeeeee…….,” is all I can yet manage, gripping my cup while looking out…at a view that is cinematically ridiculous.

…Lady M joins us, Yoga-refreshed, cup in hand. And for the prob’ly three-dozenth time in these hours away, we are: three women…as the world so very rarely gets the chance to unabashedly see us. Real. Makeup-naked. No phones. No watches. Hairstyles: irrelevant. We don’t care how we sit in our chairs, various sizes of little round tummies, not sucked in as an outreach to vanity. Toenail Polish on the feet thrust out before us, chipped in places…because, who cares? We are three generations of womanity…so different in our ways and manner of walking through life, but so at ease and peace with one another and (most importantly) ourselves.

…It has been silent for a while, and we are fine with this. I look at our coffee cups a moment and grin. It’s too good. I have to share it.

“…Even the cups we choose give us away: The Prof, with her delicate demi half-sized pour, Lady M with her funky handmade look and shape, and me: the largest monster-mug in the cabinet.”

…We all laugh. At what it says about us. To ourselves, and each other.

This. This is the kind of life-medicine that heals better than any pill or salve. This is where I have been taken by one of my closest of close friends….who just gets me and all my failings and frustrations. This is where I’ve been shown, by example and expert women-strength, that it is hard enough being a strong woman, being an artist, being in “business”…being a “grown-up.”

….Sometimes you need someone to take the phone and the watch and the pretenses away and say, “Go. For 24 hours: let it go, and just ‘be.'”

….And so I have.

…Save for one little blog, while two women of a certain age, laugh and sing in the ocean just below me…being amazing inspiration. Without even trying.

Because, just “being, ” is enough.

~D

Reboot

2 Jun

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Hi, remember me? I was this person you knew once…used to read my stuff, prob’ly cuz it made you feel like a normal put-together human who has way less issues than…well…me? Yeah, I’m still here.

My last fresh-start month wasn’t so fresh, so I decided to go dormant for a bit, sleep off the hangover it left behind (so to speak)…and now, look! It’s a new month again! Reboot 2.0! And I really mean it this time.

…Truth is, I’ve missed you. Ten or twenty times I could have used you as a good blow out exercise…but instead, I finished the show, made some new plans, went with Cecil on a mini Vaca, and came back with some super specific purpose.

I HAVE A PURPOSE!

…And now, it’s time to blog again.

…Mostly influenced by the reemergence of our friend, the home-challenged-cross-dressing-sex-working-substance-abuse-filled-office-neighbor* (*formerly known as “The Tunnel Tranny.”)

He came back today.

Retook up residence by the overpass tunnel, just outside our office. Cecil was excited, inquiring if he was “the” T.T. of previous blog-note. The WHS Pimp swears it is, and I suppose with the like-hours they worked in this space, he aughta know. Though for a while, I debated the fact. Despite his women’s tracksuit jacket, and proclivity to pose in random very specific postures, he would hold through out the day, as if for a photo shoot…or a ghost class of artists studying his form.

…Mostly I denied it, because the T.T. was never present and “about” during my hours of operation. And this gentleman very much was. In fact, across six hours today, (wherein he only moved from his spot just opposite our window once, during a momentary downpour), he was exceedingly present.

He was coversational…(to the air)…had several loud political debates (with a bug?), rehearsed his flirting and solicitation come-ons (with the fluted wall), and conducted his own dance party, during what we chose to take as our coffee break…so we could watch.

(…Dude had some mad hip-hop, Beyonce-bustin’ skills, is all I’m sayin’…)

…And as we watched him, sing his songs, direct from his probably drugged-out head, and get down with his bad self, grinning like a five-year-old kid, I turned to Cecil at her desk:

Me: Lookit this guy. He has no rent, no car, no credit cards, no bills, no job, no responsibilities… it’s 10 a.m. on a Tuesday, and he’s singing a song and dancing like a rockstar, while we dumbasses just watch from our hell-hole office, like animals in a cage. Something is super, super wrong with this picture.

Cecil: (with a sigh, and momentary glance of longing his way) Yeah…

…Which is to say, “there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio…” And if that guy can find ’em and make ’em work for him, so damn well can I!

The end.

~D

A Reboot To Gooder Times

4 Jan

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So, I’ve decided to start the New Year all over again. 

…We’ll call the last one a “Dress Rehearsal.” 

In keeping with tradition, it really blew. But that’s okay, cuz it means that Opening Night will be super awesome.

That’s the damn rules.

After a literally sleepless night, trying to get a hold of customer service online for hours, (t’ween going out and looking in the rain for m’damn phone), I finally was able to suspend service on the account by 5 a.m…hoping it was before whoever might have found it could order everything in the world through my Amazon app, and have it shipped to them while draining my bank account, and calling people in China for four-hour conversations.

…By 6:30 (when the rest of the world started waking up), friend peeps began responding to my IM’d pleas of help…and said “dumbass phone” was eventually found: now in custody at the Theatre.

…So that was my night.

…And so now, here at work with anti-sleep nausea, I sit weaving before the computer trying to choke down a fifth cup of coffee.

My fifth.

…Which isn’t working so well on an empty tummy, come to find out.

…So that’s why Ma showed up with food, at my work, making me eat it and suck on some Sprite for twenty minutes until the “wanting to die” part began to pass.

In other words: Not a great time, you guys. And I’m not okay with the build up stacking effect I’ve got going of one crap-deal on top of the other. So I’m cutting it off here…right now…and insisting that fate and everything else waiting in the wings to screw me over somehow, knock it the fuck off!

THERE WILL BE NO UNDERSTUDIES!

It’s been said.

Now…

I’m gonna finish this paperwork junk, and get my car to the shop by six tonight, so I can have them re-fix what I already spent $550 on, which evidently didn’t work, as I failed my smog test, so couldn’t get my new tabs, which is why I got pulled over ON NEW YEARS DAY EVE, on way home from rehearsal, (the only sober person on the planet at the time…so its good they decided that I was the one they should pick on)…and given a ticket for more crap that I can’t afford to pay.

Enough is enough, friends.

Now, someone say something to make me laugh, dammit!

~D

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