October 31, 2005
Happy Halloweeeeeeeeen
I was lamenting the lack of Hellhouse all weekend. While wearing my Hellhouse t-shirts Friday and Sunday, I couldn't help but notice every now and again that "oh, it was a year ago this time" I'd be on my way to the theater, or full swing into a youth group number with the Snake Handlers, or pinning a sin on Jesus. Halloween time in Hollywood was established last year as Hollywood Hellhouse time. Whoa were many when they decided to take it to New York this year only to have the New York producers screw over the Hollywood producers at the last minute and sack the whole thing. And they always complain that Los Angeles is flakey as the crust of pumpkin pie!
We were even in the vicinity of the theater on Saturday night, me pining again to don my "Margaret Mary" nametag and hail, hail, hail Jesus! Instead we ate at Fred 62 and took our friend out for drinks for his birthday at Electric Lotus. After a couple martinis and a farewell to our friend, I realized I had to use a facility really bad. There we were on Vermont Ave with a pretty long drive home ahead of us so I went into the now infamous, thanks to Swinger's, Dresden Room. Entered at the front, exited at the back, met D in the alley and told him, we gotta go back in there. It was still kinda early so there were seats at the bar and breathing room and within ten minutes Marty & Elayne arrived for their first set. Marty opened with "New York". Well, I was still basking in the warm glow of Chicago's World Series win so I just couldn't let that song stand alone. Instead of passing a napkin for a request, I just heckled. "What about Chicago?" Marty chuckled at me, thankfully. He sang the song and filled in his own words about "Wrigley...and the south side" all the while winking my way.
Even the bartenders seemed to have gotten rid of the bitterness of having to work hard since the place became so popular. They were downright nice. Took away the sadness for a while that I wasn't spending my holiday weekend mocking the fundamentalists.
October 28, 2005
Not So Wild & Crazy Guy
Last night I went to another laugh-a-thon courtesy of Jill Soloway, Maggie Rowe, Sarah Thyre and friends. After the readings of book excerpts and essays, Jill signed more of her books. Socializing over free wine I was reminded of Steve Martin's book signing for Shopgirl - when it first came out, before it was a flicker of a flick. I was working at Neiman Marcus in what seemed like year 100 because I was SO OVER IT! I was pretty much over retail from the get go but dammit if Saks and Neimans didn't keep asking me back and raising the ante. Until I decided I couldn't DO WINDOWS ANYMORE and went for a job in Studio Services which was at least dealing with entertainment folk and less back breaking. After a year, they decided they couldn't afford that budget anymore and moved me to Cosmetics. Back-stabbing bitches on commission! If I hadn't broken myself over and over with years of schlepping mannequins and Christmas trees, I might have taken my display job back which was once again being offered. No, it was just time for me to once and for all find my way out of the corporate bulldookie.
So, it was one glamorous evening during my last months at Neimans that Steve Martin made an appearance to sign his new novella - they planted him right in the front of the cosmetics department. There was a line around my bay for two hours and there was nothing else to do but watch. I was a huge Steve Martin fan, certainly the biggest one in that department - did I mention back stabbing bitches on commission? And lest we forget - this book was about a girl who worked at a deadend job at NEIMAN MARCUS! (Not Saks, as it is in the movie - obviously Saks was dying to recover from the Winona incident and outbid or begged the moviemakers for the location change.)
I noticed that he was giving some folks some extra time and extra inscriptions so I was not going to listen to the silly security who kept telling everybody to keep it moving and just tell him your name, let him sign it and thank him, thank you very kindly. I waited till the line died down - nearly the end of the day, came out from behind the Bobbi Brown counter and walked right up to the stanchions and velvet rope. He looked up at me as I placed the book on his table (set with a lovely $100 flower arrangement that at one time would have been my job to order.)
"Who to?" he asked. He already started to write "For" as I smiled big and said "Future Ex Shopgirl." He squinted at me and asked, "what?" I was stunned into stundom. What do you mean, what? It appeared he heard me, but didn't understand me. Like I had given myself a superhero name or something. In this nano second that lasted a lifetime I thought - you wrote the book! What else does future ex shopgirl mean? I stuttered something about, "ya know, when I get out of this place...uh Nora - it's Nora." So, having already written an "S" possibly for "shopgirl" but unwilling to write "shopgirl" he scribbled "Nora" - OVER THE 'S'. And then his signature. Barely a smile when he handed it back. I looked at it. It looked like it said "For SNora, Steve Martin".
Another disappointing day as a shopgirl - now an ex shopgirl, now a not-so-huge Steve Martin fan.
October 27, 2005
Chicago Brings It Home
Congrats go out to my southside friends and to the Sox who have relieved me of any more viewings of the senior Bushes with their scorecards and Astro gear.
And as far as I know, Chicago still stands the morning after. All the news fit to print is at The Sun Times (Because The Trib has a pesky registration.)
My vote for MVP... and no Steve Bartman anywhere in sight. Uribe, Uribe!
Picasso(x)
October 26, 2005
Night Baseball
Well, I feel like I haven't slept a wink, having watched baseball till 11:30 (Pacific Standard) then for whatever reason, tossing and turning the rest of the night. It must have been the bothersome images I saw on TV from Texas. This time a Houston Stadium was filled to capacity with diamonds. Not the ones that make the bases on the field and the players run around and tag, but ones that were large and dripping from women's fingers and ears. I wonder what my aunt Cleo would have said about that, she who watched every Cubs game ever broadcast, wearing her little Cubs earrings. People would be robbed left and right at Dodger Stadium if they showed up with that much bling. And what was with the woman on her cellphone for THREE HOURS, bouncing up and down? She looked like she was talking someone through delivering a baby. And why did FOX feel the need to show her EVERY ten minutes? Yup, still on the phone. Game still tied. And of course the most bothersome image was Barbara "this is working very well for them" Bush, nodding off in her home plate seat. They finally took her away somewhere around the 12th or 13th inning and HALALUJAH, the Sox finally won the longest World Series game ever played. I will go through my day in a haze, but comforted that Chicago is a game away, and all central time zoners had less sleep than me.
October 23, 2005
Bowling For Cauliflowers
I spent the 1st game of the world series with some native south-siders. They admitted that cubs fans would most likely - on a whole - root for the sox but if it was the other way around...probably not. When the sox won, lots of dancing and barking. The west coast puffers were in full celebration so we could only imagine that the southside originals (Yo, ess-oh) were either razing the roof or at least, raising it.
During today's game 2, I was flanked by a couple sox fans. One of them was reminded of my upbringing. "You're from Aurora, right?" Yes. "Did you ever live in the city?" No. "Well, you missed a lot." I chuckled and had to say, "Listen, I left Illinois immediately after turning 18. But - I spent plenty of time in the city while I was there and my years of 14 thru 18 were like another's 21 thru 25, so heh, I really don't think so."
October 21, 2005
Woof
Received my invitation today to the Paws/LA Pet Art 7 Auction. This years host is Jillian Barberie. (Last year it was Wendie Malick. A slightly "same but different" thing.) And after (my contributing) two years, the venue moves from The Music Box Theater to The "Paw'Lladium". Sadly, there will be no vodka sponsor this year... but a wine bar and local restaurant contributing munchies instead of the passed hors d'oeuvres - all good. I'm happy to see they have gotten the website up and running and yours truly is featured on Page 1 of artists. I think they will probably be adding more images of artwork available at auction so check in. There are some heavy hitters including the usual suspects - Baldesarri, Ruscha, Shag, Scharf, Ritts, Wegman and more....
October 20, 2005
A Comedy Groupie's View From The 80's (I)
So speaking of star-struckedness… I share with you excerpts from a letter I wrote to a friend in 1985 (86?) from Hollywood, USA. Stand-up comedy was at its peak and Bruce Willis was climbing that rock fast. In plain view.
**
So. Friday night I was on my own…. I thought of a thousand things to do but finally I got dressed to go out to the “Bud Friedman’s Improv w/Mark Lonow Club”.... I was tired and curious to see if the Improv could give some comic relief…. took a bus to Crescent Heights & Santa Monica and walked down to Melrose.
No one was really there when I got there. They were letting one show out and seating the next. Charlie Zucker was there running around nervously – he was on first. The colorful, illuminated chalkboard announced The Funny Boys were on third, Taylor Negron on 4th. Then I didn’t pay attention to who was batting after that.
After a few awkward moments playing the jukebox and standing around, I made a dash for an open barstool. It was conveniently front and center.
Shortly thereafter Bruce Willis made an entrance with a cute girl at his side. On their way up to the bar, a girl I recognized from Sloan’s (whose boyfriend is a fucking actor) [so you’d think she’d know better] tapped him on the shoulder and said, “I love you, I just want to say I love you.” He said thanks and our eyes met and we rolled them simultaneously.
They bellied up to the bar right next to me and ordered a couple beers. They started talking about their days work. Eddie, the bartender, bought their first beers because “Bruce, you don’t know why, but they’re on me.”
“You don’t know why, or I don’t?”
“You don’t. See, my agent called me this week, I go in on Monday and do some voice-over work on Moonlighting.”
“Oh, that’s great. Good luck on that.”
A girl sitting on the other side of them starts jumping in on their conversation. “So, I really love your show, I think you’re wonderful. I mean, to begin with, your show was like, hit or miss, wasn’t it? I think it’s turned out great. Very well done. Did you just get lucky and get the job or have I seen you in anything else?”
“Well, I did a Miami Vice and a …and some things in New York.”
“Oh, I’m from New York. I’m just curious. What’s it like working with Cybil Shepard? I’m just curious.” She was going to town. During this, Bruce and Dana [Delaney] switched places so his back was to the crowd. Too many people staring at him…
Fuck, I think to myself – I really don’t like the show….
The Funny Boys had made their entrance during this and Bruce went off to talk to Jimmy. Which left Dana to get bombarded by the girl next door. “So, I’m just curious. What’s it like working with Bruce Willis? It must be strange walking off the street and becoming such a success like that. Are you an actress? I’m just curious. Do you see him? I mean, what’s it like going to dinner with a guy like that? People must come up to him all the time. I wouldn’t do that. I’m just curious…”
Bruce came back to the bar and he and Dana tried to ignore the masses and eat popcorn from the bowl in my lap…
Bruce and Dana left, The Funny Boys went on and some French couple came to take up the empty space beside me.
October 18, 2005
October 17, 2005
Cheap thrills are awful hard to find these days
I'm not a freakishly star-struck kind of person. Sure I've been known to stare across a room at a brooding Kurt Cobain, but he would be (was) on a short list of talent that make my blood run hot and my appreciation for talent run high. I like a good star sighting just as much as the next person but comfort zones are very important to me so I respect that for a famous person especially.
There are not too many actors or "celebrities" these days that really truly float my boat. Let alone talented ones - I just don't see many that are unique to their craft and their appearance. It was a heart pumping surprise for me Saturday night when we walked into the El Rey Theater and there stood, from my short short list, Justin Kirk. He has been on that list ever since he had my eyes glued to Angels In America and of late he perks up the small screen again on Weeds. Much to my delight during the opening band - which really sucked by the way - he and his date stood right in front of me. I learned two things. He has incredible shoulder blades and his taste in women...eh, not so much.
After all that blood pumping, we were literally blown away by a long set from Bob Mould. I haven't been to a show that loud in a long time. It was his birthday and the end of the tour - he played on and on and loud and louder. Check out Bob's blog and new album. Good stuff.
October 14, 2005
Now I Don't Know Who To Root For
According to the hometown newspaper, the hate between Sox Fans and Cubs fans runs DEEP! I personally never felt it as much from the Cub side - growing up we went to both fields, but ended up being attached to the cubbies and the Wrigley experience more. A while back I dated a Sox fan for a moment and made him go with me and friends and family to a 3rd of July game at Wrigley where, during the game he begrudgingly but sincerely cheered on the Cubs. However, when using the facilities after the game was over, his shoe was sprayed with pee by a spirited fan being jostled by the throngs. He came out of the bathroom yelling, "I got pissed on! This isn't even my church!" Of course that became the mantra the rest of the beer fueled day as we headed back to the south side and ended up at Puffer's Bar. He is arriving today in Los Angeles to support his team. And, according to the hometown rag - cheer not only against the Angels but against the Cubs as well....
*They bristle at the thought that Harry Caray — who sang "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" as the White Sox announcer before he did the same at Cubs games — is immortalized with a statue outside Wrigley. And they love to look down their noses at those who pour into the baseball shrine year after year.
"The Cubs have got all these people in short shorts calling each other on their cell phone," Pacyga said. "The Sox have got all these people watching the game."
Mayor Richard Daley, a lifelong White Sox fan, said as much when asked this week if he'd like to see the area around U.S. Cellular look more like Wrigley, with dozens of bars and restaurants.
"You go to the game to see a baseball game," he said. "Simple as that."
Two years ago, White Sox fans whooped with joy when fan Steve Bartman reached for a foul ball headed for Cubs outfielder Moises Alou just when it seemed the team from Wrigley was going to the World Series for the first time since 1945. White Sox fans now have further reason to gloat in October.
"Half of my joy," Veeck said, "is the fact that the Cubs are not playing."*
October 12, 2005
Husker Du's & Don'ts, Dawg
Driving sucks right now and it's basically all I do M thru F (and often S & S) - except walk. Walk & Drive. I have a low tolerance for most things driving right now so I find myself turning down work because of it. Today I turned down an offer of extra pay to go to the side of Burbank that I don't go to. It'd be SO easy to crumble because you want to take on new clients and you need the money, but I hemmed a little then hawed a little but ultimately said sorry, no. I tried to explain how one client being on one side of town and six others being in various parts of the other side of town would completely throw everything off. What I didn't say was that this would make me resent you and your "beautiful, mellow, easy-going 100 pound labs" and then I'd hate my job and it's too early to start hating my job.
The best part about driving is winning. In between every walk is a drive and in the morning hours that means Morning Becomes Eclectic on KCRW. (And Jonesy on indie from noon till 2.) But THIS morning meant that as Nic Harcourt barely started to mention Bob Mould at the El Rey this Saturday night, I grabbed for my cell phone and hit "contact", "K" and "send". And won two tickets. This helps me still love my job and look forward to something other than walking and driving. Not to mention - after the 2 for 1 tickets to Basquiat and these freebies - my pledge to KCRW has paid for itself.
October 08, 2005
Smoke 'Em Out Of Their Souls
Imagine you are a talent agent in Hollywood who was once a model and a fashion model agent and lived all over the world. You’re now in your forties and you have two kids who run you ragged and you run your business by yourself and you’re always tired. You are savvy and smart and you are a real person with a real life.
Imagine you are this woman and you see a commercial casting breakdown for Nicoderm come through the wires looking for real people who have quit smoking or tried to quit smoking or are looking to quit smoking. You are looking to quit smoking. You call the casting director directly because you deal with her all the time and you pitch yourself. While telling this casting director you want to go on the call yourself, you think – not only do I want to quit smoking but also it pays well and I want to move out of this crap house that found a cockroach in my daughter’s bed this morning. The casting director says sure, of course, come on down.
Imagine that you get dolled up, put on makeup, look your best and go to this casting call for Nicoderm. Imagine being called into the casting room with five other people and lined up on a row of chairs in front of a camera. Imagine the casting assistant who makes $500 a week to run the camera and ask the questions, behind the camera, camera rolling, asking questions. “How many of you still smoke?” You are the only one to feebly raise your hand. The casting assistant asks the quitters how long, how much, how’d you quit, etc. The casting assistant comes back to you and asks, “How many cigarettes a day do you smoke?” You tell him – five, sometimes maybe ten, it depends on the day. He asks, “Why do you smoke?” You tell him, camera rolling, that you run your own business, your kids run you ragged, you’re really stressed out, you’re in pain because you have severe neck and back problems and sometimes the only thing that makes you feel a little better is a smoke. The casting assistant asks you why you want to quit. You tell him because of your kids. That it makes you feel bad that you smoke in front of them and they don’t like it and they tell you they don’t like it. The casting assistant asks, “What do your kids say?” You tell him and the camera, “They say ‘mommy you’re going to die’.”
Imagine that you’ve confessed this all honestly and sincerely and maybe somewhere inside you’re secretly thinking, damn, I’ve nailed this one. Then imagine that the casting assistant who DOES NOT WORK FOR NICODERM and who doesn’t know you from Adam, turns off the camera and points his finger at you and says with antagonizing asshole authority, “You need to quit smoking.” At first you nod, agreeing but he continues. “You have kids!” He’s in your face. “This is an intervention! You need to quit smoking.” Imagine yourself thinking, did he just say that to me – this is an intervention? Then imagine before you know it you are sobbing there in front of these strangers feeling worthless and about two inches tall. Sobbing.
Imagine the lady next to you then leaning in to say, “Honey, you want my last piece of Nicorette gum? You can have it.” That’s when you get up and run crying out of the room, out of the office, out of the building.
I imagine if that were me I’d have wanted to ask that guy who the hell he was and where the hidden cameras were and where my intervening family was and tell him to go ef himself and tell that little lady who lives on a pack a day of nicotine gum to do the same - and then I imagine the first thing I'd want to do is go light up.
That’s what I’d imagine.
October 05, 2005
Dog Days Of Summer
Oh, thinking a lot about a lot but at the moment only capable of writing it down in code and bad illustrations. Kind of like waking up from a not dissatisfying but really frustrating dream. With allergies.
October 03, 2005
24 Hours Now As A Redhead (Again)
Though I am instantly grateful not to go through the rigors of being a blonde anymore (fun for a summer) and I already did the au naturel for a while (proud Irish and all, but not quite ready for Julia Phillips natural - or Julia Phillips fucked up) but the red I turned up with is not exactly the one I want. In fact I want ne pas naturel. Not that this red is natural, but I'm thinking RED RED. Like I am thinking Cadmium Red Deep Hue. For now I represent autumn (and with it unfortunately wildfire) but I think Christmas Candy Apple Blood Red Velvet is more to my liking. Who knows who makes this dye, please? I need festive.
