the world series. history.

im sitting here. on the futon. legs hanging over. watching mariano rivera's long run in from center field.

the man is unflappable. someone asked him what he hears when approaching the mound. silence. he said. he comes to do his job. and he does it. 

i can't imagine what it must be like to be there at yankee stadium right now. the noise, deafening. the energy, full and tangible--a moving thing. 

baseball was my first love. the field, my first home. 

my father was raised in the bronx. the booze for my grandparents wedding provided by three yankees of the day. my destiny was tied to the team long before i ever entered this world.

but it was the summer after my junior year of high school that i began the slow and steady apprenticeship of becoming a true lover of the bronx bombers.

my uncle (the phillies fan, ironically enough) taught me the bulk of it. and my aunt the yankee die-hard and devotee of past great center fielder, bernie williams, added her own. i spent that summer falling in love with new york city and all it had to offer, most especially, its most decorated--most storied baseball team.

it is the history of it all that really gets me. it tells the history of this country. of my own childhood. and i am indebted to the sport for that alone. 

there it is. line drive to jeter for the first out of the ninth inning. the yankees lead seven-three. 

two to go.

the last time my boys were in the world series was the year of my apprenticeship. they lost. i have yet to see them win the world series. for me this story is new. this is a new part of my history. 

i know many think baseball is boring. but its like the equivalent of a strip-tease. it's all about tension. give and take. gentle undulations. 

fly to right-field. my boy swisher gets it for out number two. 

hideki matsui got six rbi's tonight. seven runs we have, and he drove six of those babies in.

the whole stadium is on its feet, but my legs are dangling. off of the futon. kicking a bit wildly at this point. 

there it is!! they did, they just did it. 

their bodies coming together in one mass huddle. bobbing in a sea of green. 

i love baseball. i'm so proud of my boys. 

november is the month, indeed. 

lipstick pick.

yesterday joanna posted about red lipstick. 

and it got me thinking.

about my own pick.

the past year or so i've taken a great liking to lipstick.

because my left eye leaks (a lot lately) spending any time on eye makeup tends to be a waste. 

so i do mascara and a strong lip.

but lately i've been wanting something a bit more natural--like a lip stain, but not quite.

i've been feeling very low maintenance. 

so my pick for the season is laura mercier's hydrating tint in "berry." 

it's actually more vibrant than it appears in the picture and as it wears off it definitely has a stain quality.

so there you go. 

my two cents because i know you wanted to know (what?). i'm talking crazy now.

but seriously. after working for a cosmetic company this is what i know--yes, those girls and guys are informed, but nothing beats spending a few hours in sephora and trying everything on. you know what looks good on you. or you'll learn. either way... win, win.

november brings good tidings.

i'd like to wipe october from my slate.

start again.

fresh.

so november first came.

sunday morning.

my friend kate and i ventured to the east side to catch the nyc marathon.

if ever you find yourself in the city on the day of this gorgeous event, you must watch--participate--partake in some way.

there's nothing quite like it. 

people. everywhere. from all over. doing something so unbelievably difficult and miraculous. each with a story. running together. a moving quilt covering the blacktop streets. an endless stream of wordless music as their feet meet the pavement.

kate and i were walking across 62nd street towards first avenue, approaching the party, when we saw runners. moving at a speed you can't even imagine. whoosh. whoosh. woosh. followed quickly by a news camera on a dolly. whoosh. and we realized, oh that's the lead pack. we just saw the very front-runners. live and in person. i took this as a very good omen for the month. had we arrived a minute sooner we would have been inside and walking up the stairs and missed their passing. a minute later and we wouldn't have had any idea. our timing was... fortuitous. 

a tiding of all the good things to come. i think.

i hope. 

fantasy, phantasmagorical, and halloween.

today i would like to go to any of these places

and not go to work. 

but just so you know...

work has been more bearable. why, you ask? because i remembered my life does not begin and end in a restaurant. there is more to me. i have other goals for myself, other hopes that extend far beyond whether someone has impeccable service. 

and in other news, i might even dress up for halloween tonight. don't get too excited, the pieces will come straight from my closet, so it's not super inventive. but i might just have some photos of my own to share!

happy halloween. may you get to travel to the land of your dreams, physically or metaphysically. 

phantasmagorical, indeed! (there's a word for you).

photos found here, here, and here.

a wish for november.

last night my friend angela came over for some very, very belated birthday sweet treats.

she lit cupcakes for me and demanded we take a picture. i was laughing so hard that one of the candles blew out just from that.

but i made a wish, nonetheless.

i won't tell you what it is. not exactly. because then it wouldn't come true.

but i will tell you, that right now,

i sure am wishing that november is a heck of a lot better than october.

that i get back in to the routine of waking up early.

that i find myself at the pool more often than not.

that i always have a good book to read. 

ps: want to know what my goal for the month of november is? learn to flirt. and then practice, practice, practice. right now i'm at the point where me flirting is me being a relatively friendly human being (as opposed to emitting an icy blast, which is what i tend to do with cute men), so i'm just a hop, skip, and a jump away.........

when all was said and done i put my books away before anything else.

and then i knew i was home.

and i started to breathe again.

i started crying tonight when mariano rivera threw that last pitch to clinch the alcs title for the yanks.

if if wasn't so highly, highly single i'd start to wonder if i'm pregnant.

i'm so emotional of late.

what gives, hormones?

ruminations on the word doppelganger.

i have a friend at work. and she makes me laugh. belly aching laughs. 

i understand her humor. she understands mine.

i didn't use to be funny. ever. and now it's only ever occasional. if that.

yesterday, after explaining my brief panic attack to Dr. Bob (the therapist), and the feeling of being without a family, as well as the million other things i felt and thought and stepped in this week, he asked,

okay, so what will you do for yourself this week.

to which i replied.

i guess i'll have to go out and buy myself a new family.

i doesn't seem that funny when i write it down. but it was. i promise. it was the funniest thing i've said in months. the timing, the delivery--it was perfect. you just must believe me.

i brag about this boorish joke only because it truly is so few and far between that i strike comic gold (as i did), and when i do, it's never, ever in the right setting. 

i mean, my therapist? he laughed and all, but that's as close as you can get to being by yourself and still having an audience. 

oh if only my humor were to become widespread--common knowledge. my sparkling and dazzling personality fails in crowds and necessary situations. and i brag out my personality because even i am beginning to question its existence?

so back to this friend. at work. it is one of my great (and only) joys of my current position to listen as said friend makes proclamations (or rather snap judgements) about each and every person we work for (our bosses). mispronounce her name once? you're a neanderthal. she's done with you. can't figure out that a cabbie won't take a $100 bill. you lose all credence (okay, so maybe that was my proclamation, but done in her spirit). so we got this new...higher up, who when he first met said friend, asked if he knew her from somewhere else, because he could swear she was this other person and so on and so on. so my friend said: i guess i have a doppelganger running around. and he said, a what? and she said, you know, a doppelganger. to which he replied, no, i don't know. what is that? 

said friend immediately shared this story. we giggled, as school girls do, and conspiratorially decided he lacked the necessary breadth of knowledge. 

imagine my chagrin when, for the next two weeks i went around telling this story, it always ended with listener asking me what in fact a doppelganger is. which then became another two weeks of me asking everyone i know if they knew the meaning of the word, and very, very few did. including my mother. and my mother knows many words. she keeps lists and looks them up. many a night was there dinner and a mirriam-webster dictionary on the table. 

and then came the final blow. i asked Dr. Bob and he said, oh it sounds familiar and i'm sure i should know it, but go ahead and tell me. and Dr. Bob is the smartest person i know.

ah. the coup de grace. 

yesterday ended up being rougher than expected. and i went to bed praying and crying. the former not a common act and the latter becoming a bit too habitual for comfort. 

you see. i do know the meaning of doppelganger. but there is so much i have to work on. 

i know, i know i'm not a great listener. and i get frustrated easily. and my face shows every ounce of that frustration and angst. i don't hide my feelings (which i think is a product of hiding them for so long) and while i really, really like this about myself--there is in fact a time and place. i have to learn to put on the mask when needed. and i need to learn to play the game. i'm not well spoken or articulate under stressful conditions. and i act like i'm ten more often than twenty-four. i hate confrontation and i hate having attention focused on me. i need to expand my tolerance for those who aren't as good at some things. or as well-versed in german venacular. 

i got home last night. and the awareness of my countless failings seeped in and the tears began. and i thought, i used to smile all the time.

after my third year of school i headed to western new york to do Albert Camus' The Just. and there's this line my character, Dora says, "I remember when I was a schoolgirl. I used to laugh. I was pretty then. I spent hours wandering around and dreaming." and i thought. i know what she means. right now. in this moment. i understand. now, i get it. 

through failure and failings comes understanding and awareness. and humility. and that will make me a better actor, a better writer, a better whatever-i-end-up-being. 

a better person? yeah, that too. for now, let's work on that, cause i got some work to do. 

and how to make my humor more accessible? that too. i gots some thinkin' to do on that fo'sho'.

this too shall pass. and it is. it's passing.

i'm feeling really lovely today. 

so much better. 

maybe its because when i get home from work tonight i get to begin reassembling my room. 

and i get to put a blanket back on my bed. 

and this will inevitably organize my mind. 

and maybe it's because i'm thinking tomorrow night, with pettitte at the helm (he's a pitcher), the yanks will win the alcs title. 

and maybe it's because i have you all with your lovely and supportive comments.

so feast your eyes on these thoughts and images which i'll carry with me today and through the weekend.

a truce to your volumes, your studies, give o'er: for books cannot teach you of love's marvelous lore.

hafiz

remember just for one minute of the day, it would be best to try looking upon yourself more as God does, for She knows your true royal nature.

hafiz

the sky where we live is no place to lose your wings so love, love, love.

hafiz

i wish i could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.

hafiz

when no one is looking i swallow deserts and clouds and chew on mountains knowing they are sweet bones! when no one is looking and i want to kiss God, i just lift my own hand to my mouth.

hafiz

exaggeration is truth that has lost its temper.

kahil gibran

i prefer to be a dreamer among the humblest, with visions to be realized, than lord among those without dreams and desires.

kahil gibran

much of your pain is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. 

kahil gibran

love and doubt have never been on speaking terms.

kahil gibran

out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.

kahil gibran

keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does now bow before children.

kahil gibran

ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.

hafiz

an eye for an eye and the whole world would be blind.

kahil gibran

image 1: life is beautiful

image 2 thru 6: sabino

image 7: tweexcore

image 8 thru 12: audrey hepburn complex

i left my job on tuesday, hating it so much i thought i might be sick.

i am a hostess. in a restaurant. 

enough. said.

i don't want things to be too easy. 

too easy means too comfortable and too comfortable is like some kind of small death.

but sometimes i wish certain things were just a tad easier. 

and while i'd like to quit. immediately.

i should probably wait until the exterminator comes on friday and then i get to put my room back together and for the first time in near a month live like a normal person. that will give me some perspective.

because much as i hate my job... at least it gives me the time and leeway to figure out just exactly what i might like to one day do.

i don't have to love this job. i don't have to be good at this job. i don't have to like everyone i work for or with. i just have to tolerate, persevere, and see it all as practice for inevitable domestic house-wife bliss that awaits (tongue and cheek, tongue and cheek. because i clean tables and carry dishes most of the day? and vacuum, lord knows how i love that).

brgh. this mood will end along with the bed bugs, yes? someone please say yes.

ps: ladies, ben (featured below) is taken, but don't worry, when i meet a guy, i'll let you know. 

so there are people that say socializing is good for one's health.

so my juilliard classmate (and one time prom date back in high school) ben and i hit up where the wild things are.

and then topped it off with some new york pizza. 

we joked about our current pains when it comes to paying the bills and the people we're forced to deal with. ben sells water (very expensive water) in broadway houses across the city. when asked why the water is so expensive he quickly responds, it's talent water--the same water they drink backstage. not only that, it's imported. then, with flare he throws it over the front of his arm, asking if they'd like to see the label. or when a customer asked him if he was working his way through college, and he said, he'd actually graduated, the said customer said, oh really, was this your major? and he said in all seriousness: why yes, i majored in concession management. 

bless you ben. 

when telling a guest the other day that we no longer allow strollers in the dining room because of safety reasons and  he asked if i had a PhD in that area (strollers in restaurants) i should have said, do you?

as i turns out ben is on hell of an actor. and a very good friend to share a monday night with. 

oh. of course.

i woke up this morning with a pounding headache, rolled around in bed for a few minutes, then reached for the nearest tissue to blow away this cold that's just sitting there, front of the face.

i got up, made myself a poor man's mocha (black coffee and hot cocoa pack) and put it in a bowl: coffee must always be taken in as the french do, bowl style. 

then i did ten squats to get the blood moving and cleared everything off my desk except for keys, phone, lamp, computer, and said coffee. see exhibit a.

exhibit a

and i resolved to write.

i had a split-screen panic attack last night.

i got the rolling waves of heat and relentless tears, but all the while i was aware of what was going on. and watching myself i found it all a bit funny. so it became a fight between the elements: tears or laughter. 

after not so long the laughter selflessly gave way, knowing that i needed to cry, to release and cleanse. 

it was as though those few minutes contained every thought i've ever had in all of my life.

what am i doing with my life. i'm a good actor, why am i not acting? have i failed? what is failure? will i ever meet a man that can love me? is this it? is this all i've been waiting for? calm down, this too shall pass. move on. stand still. breathe take it in. it'll be worth it. have patience. but i'm not patient. i'm not a patient person. did i screw everything up? can i go back and begin again. where's the restart button?

i really shouldn't be surprised, i've been living in bed-bug exile for going on two weeks now, a squatter in my own home. (see exhibit b)

exhibit b

i was on a break at work when it started. sitting there at the small wooden table, noshing on my squash salad, looking around at the sunday evening dinners being shared between families and wondering where my own family was and feeling the farness of them. and i thought, i am between families. which quickly became i am without a family, which is untrue, but this is how the mind works, you know?

and then i was cleaning the oreck silent vaccuum when my boss commented how everytime he looks he sees me doing this and thanks for that, which in my mind became, really, everytime you look this is what i am doing? oh brother, this is what my life is reduced to? cleaning other people's shit out of a plastic trash receptacle?

my father called me later in the evening. and he listened as i, through tears, listed all of my fears. this silly, little job and the future and work and where my life will go and what i can accomplish and what i’m capable of accomplishing and on and on and on. and somewhere in that on and on and on it came out. my greatest fear. a fear that i don’t think I’d ever even spoken aloud. a fear that while i am certain others must feel the same way, seemed the most shameful, the most unspeakable. remember last week when jasmine featured my fun with proust and i said my greatest fear was "dying before i've ever truly been loved"? well, that's not quite right. my greatest fear? my greatest fear is that i'll never fall in love with a man who will love me back. i know that i can fall in love. and i am reasonably certain that a man can fall in love with me. i just can’t imagine it happening at the same time. that the person i choose would choose me as well.

and this is when my father in his infinite wisdom said, you have to work on loving yourself. and i said, but dad, i do, i am working on it, i’ve come so far.

and then he said the next really important thing, guys are not perfect and even the right guy, won’t change everything.

and that’s when it hit me. i’ve been daydreaming of this new crush now. and I find myself dreaming of the little things—the things that would make a life—not the week-long-love-affairs-in-rome (which, don’t get me wrong, will be amazing) but the first moment he puts his hand on my pregnant stomach and realizes he’s going to be a father. or the moment in the department store when we choose a new set of sheets or a new pillow. these daydreams are different than my past daydreams of men—they’re not quite so exotic and dangerous, they’re comfortable and familiar in a really thrilling way. i thought it was this guy who was making the difference. but dad, you’re right, the daydreams are different because I am different. i can now envision a future—a life of countless important moments because I now know i deserve that. and those dreams are not contingent upon any one man. the man does not make the difference, i do. and maybe that’s truly the beginning of everything—that’s the beginning of my love story. 

turns out panic attacks can be moments of great personal growth.

go figure.

these are my suggestions. what are yours?

this morning i fell in love with this.

i found it on courtney's gorgeous blog, ka . lei . do. scope

and it was just what i needed. 

lately, though, this has been getting me through the day:

i feel like there are just so many good female singer/songwriters out there right now. any one in particular that you love? you must tell me, i'm always in search of some new (to me) music!

bronx bombers.

so after a five hour and ten minute game the yanks just took game two of the ALCS series against the angels. 

(for non baseball fans, this means they have to win two more against the angels to head to the world series--it's best of 7)

i almost lost my mind.

i promise i'll be a more consistant blogger this next week. i've got plenty to say i've just been distracted. by lots of things. like...umm...

a little october baseball magic.