en fuego!!!

Yesterday was Kathryn's 30th Birthday, most of the crew is still away on holiday but I think we managed to give the old girl a great time! We met up at the Spotted Pig for brunch which was AMAZING! There I met Jen & David, who I gelled with instantly. I love it when you meet strangers and within 15 to 20 minutes you are laughing and carrying on like you've been mates for eons.

Of course as usual I was a little nervous about hanging with new people. Sometimes I “turtle” up when confronted with the unknown. Happily that did not happen and we ate our faces off. Might I recommend the corned beef hash with two pouched eggs…heaven on a fork!

David left us, and the 3 ladies had another round before going to see Alvin Alley at City Center. There Lauren met up with us and we enjoyed an afternoon of dancing by people who have no body fat. Their bodies move like I have never seen a body move. The final movement was my favorite I was on the edge of my seat, literally. I can't believe I waited this long to see this company, truly inspiring me to tears.

After we toddle off back downtown to No Name Bar where the evening took off, we were joined by the Montgomery's - Sara & Christopher - two of my favorite siblings on the planet. The 6 of us commandeered a table and that's when I turned up the heat & went en fuego!!!

If I could be as funny as I am with my friends as I am onstage I wouldn't be sitting in this Jew cube right now. Stuff I'd never thought of or said out loud before flew out on me....I impressed myself and that's hard considering my inner critic is a raving bitch with body & abandonment issues. So this is my quest for 2010 to be relaxed and free on stage, to cut the fear and BS and just let it out!!

During the show there was a segment where the dance was accompanied by a voice over. This strong resonating black woman who would make Oprah tremble said, “Spirit is dance, dance is movement, life moves forward…..What are you waiting for?” Cue the goosebumps….

Intent....

They want what they can't have just like me.

I have watched the most beautiful women in my life throw themselves at men who may or may not catch them. If they do well then it can go either way, they are either swept up by love or tossed away after a one night stand. Regretfully I have seen more of the latter than the former.

Which begs my question, why?
When a women sets her intent on you it is like a warm breath on the back of your neck. A sparkle in her eye says, "yes, tonight it's you." When that happens at least for me it is like an unexpected bouquet that arrives at the office. An unbelievable gift that needs no COD. She has seen something in me that makes her desire rear up and for lack of a better word "want" me. It's the best feeling in the world next to laughter.

So what puzzles me is the heaps upon heaps of men who toss that intent aside. Who use it up like a wet nap and then proceed on to the next. Is it the urge to spread the DNA amongst the flowers before they are no longer potent? Can that really be an excuse anymore?

I have been passed over so many times for a fleeting chance at some man who shows the slightest of interest. Which is my own fault for only really fishing in the straight ponds. Since lesbians only look at me like I have lobsters crawling out of my ears; I troll where I know that heartbreak lurks but in that rare moment of truth the sweetest gifts are found. None the less I feel that men if they would just pause and give a woman a chance to blossom in the light of love would reap the rewards that they to long for whether they admit it or not.

It's not that hard fellas, really, to make a women love you, it only requires honesty, a sense of humor and a grand gesture. Which really doesn't have to be that grand just a piece of your heart.

I guess I am writing this because I have been the shoulder on which so many of my dear friends have cried buckets of tears over men who just never got it. Who never paused to see them, to stop and say you are more than just a vessel for my relief. You are a person who needs and wants more from me. The art of wooing seems to have gone the way of the dinosaur and that to me is the saddest thing of all.

Funny Comma Genius!

My dear friend Ned Noyes was starring (sorry past tense but the show closed on Sunday...wah) with Kristen Johnston in "So Help Me God!" at the Lucille Lortel Theatre.

I was lucky enough to see this forgotten 1929 knee slapping comedy. Now, I was a KJ fan before I saw this show, in addition to her as the ground breaking tranny alien in 3rd Rock from the Sun and her turn as Lexi Featherston in Sex and the City, the aging party girl who falls out a window....genius! I have also seen her in "Aunt Dan & Lemon," and "The Baltimore Waltz." The kids got theatre chops and is a member of the Atlantic Theatre Company!

Well after the show Ned, LB & I scurried off to Cowgirl Hall of Fame for some margaritas and chit-chat. Needless to say I gushed about Ms. Johnston, she seriously can turn a laugh with the smallest gesture or phrase. One of my favorite scenes is when her egomaniac character is so in love with her self well see below....

Ned turned to me after my analysis of her performance and said, "send me an email and I will forward it to her."

You see Ned and Kristen are sort of BFF's, I mean he spent Thanksgiving with her at her CT home. I mean COME ON!!! Could you just die?

After my initial draft to Ned to make sure it wasn't too "crazy" or over the top this is the correspondence that followed....

SO HELP ME YOU'RE WONDERFUL
Ned!!

Laura Beth and I just wanted to say again how much we enjoyed the show last night. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. You and Kristen have great chemistry & should work together again. I don't know how you look into her face every night as she assaults you with her amazing wit and not crack up laughing like a little girl.

I've see Kristen in a few shows over the years; The Baltimore Waltz, Aunt Dan & Lemon and she just gets better and better. She has such an amazing presence and can carve out the smallest bits of business to send you into stitches. There is no replacement for Bea Arthur in the canon of theater & television, but Kristen is making her way into finding her own spot on the list of funniest women EVER! Do let her know we are rooting for her, you and the company of "So Help Me God," I can't believe we had to go all the way back to '29 to find a smart, hilarious social comment comedy. hahah!

love your jelly!!
--
~brandy rowell

NED TO KRISTEN JOHNSTON
from my friends last night - read if you're ever having a bad day :)

KRISTEN JOHNSTON TO NED

UMM.
That made my fucking day.
Can she be the Times critic?
(I moved this email to "shit to look at when life sucks" box.)

PS She is the 3rd person in as many weeks to compare me with the late, great, muumuu wearing Ms Arthur.
Better than what I also sometimes get...."oh my god, I just LOVE your Jenny Craig commercials!!!!"

Kid you not.

Once a month, at least.

pps...I assume Brandy's a woman...or a drag name. But I gotta say, in my whole life, I've only heard the name "Bea Arthur" pass thru the lips of a gay boy. So it's throwing me.
------------
The fact that she thinks I am either a Drag Queen or a Gay Boy means I can die happy! Plus technically if for some reason she has her head "in the oven" my tiny email could save her life!!

A bunch of Broadway producers saw the show the final week I hope one of them has the good sense to invest in this jewel of a production. It would be a shame for it to go back into a desk drawer and not be done for another 80 years!!

at a loss...

so much has happened since Thanksgiving that I shudder to try and write about all of it.

You see it's late. Late in the night almost morning. As I fancy my jelly to face an awkward brunch at noon, all I can think about is the love that will not be.
I am frustrated by her beauty. By her voice. By her energy that wraps me in silence and denial.

She is unattainable because I spoke too soon and with too much promise.

Regardless of my Catholic upbringing I am a sexual being that needs and craves attention. Both passive & aggressive.

I admit to being a creature of the night. I burst forth into this plain at 11:49pm and have never looked back. Least of all into the face of my birth mother.

I wish people could understand that being rejected at birth leaves a scar that has no depth or width, but it encompasses all of your being. Forever, you have questions. Forever, you wonder what made them give you life and not just chuck you in the bin of other mistakes and regrets? Why live through 9 months of me and then not love me enough to keep?

What money?? Position? All the rumors I have heard makes me think that I was meant to be "someone". The emptiness of that statement only makes me someones child. Maybe, someones sister, only I am the bastard. The one that brought shame upon the house with no name.

I was lucky, I got the best parents in the lottery of adoption. They gave me everything, believed in me when I did not, they were and are the only family I will ever know. I was lucky.

Yet still I have questions that haunt my dreams. Who is Mariea Marsden "Brandy" Rowell? My birth mother named me Cheryl. Clearly she didn't know me at all.

Burp...excuse me.

This Thanksgiving was one for the ages, a week long gorge fest instead of the usual one day of feasting. It started with Broadway Baby Thanksgiving Monday. All my theatre folks who had shows on Thursday got together in NJ to tie on the feed bag. Between the turkey & mash potatoes covered in gravy and the mac & cheese with pancetta I was one stuffed bird. Big thank you’s to Michelle & Tom who hosted a knee slapping meal in their grown-up bungalow, which I think is up for best freestanding treehouse in NJ!

Wednesday’s girl party at R Bar brought too much Blue Moon into my life and frankly too much annoying, loud, rude lesbian behavior usually expected of their frat boy counterparts. However, Poppi & Jessica shined on through their stand-up show in spite of the Sapphic sister diss, but I still haven’t recovered.

Which in part made for a bloaty Thanksgiving, I went up to Harlem to be with Ateh Ladies + Katie Thompson and the food was off the chain.

(Salad, how did salad get in there?)

Really Bridgette, Alexis, & Katie turned out some major flavor up in the hood.

(Bridgette & Katie making gravy so fast you can't see her!)

Neptune and I of course did what we do best; bring wine…oh and a pie.

(Neptune & Bridgette welcome to the Great Room!)


(The BEST Breasts EVER!!!!)


(MMMMMMM Beans!!)


(Not my first plate and Not my last....)

But after eating I started to feel icky, tired, and a little sad. So I excused myself and lumbered home with a bounty of food in a to go bag!

Later that night I was feeling a bit better, after a disco nap and some seltzer so I headed down 5 blocks to Jordan & Regan’s Potluck, again my southern bells turned out some major food from a tiny kitchen. Serving it all up beautifully on an ironing board buffet!!

(Homemade Southern Pies)

I had a nibble from their labor and was not disappointed. My friends can really cook which makes me so happy to return the favor at the treehouse from time to time.

Friday brought left over madness at Laura Beth’s hosted by Mother & Father Wells. Brisket, more mashed potatoes, turnips (don’t forget the turnips) cranberry sauce, you know the good kind with the lines from the can on it, plus more of the same yummy goodness expected at a ever turkey day except the turkey of course. Topped off with homemade stain glass candy; all were satisfied to the gills.

A marathon of eats and all in all a happy holiday filled with great people, food, wine and cheer. Plus a little plop-plop fizz-fizz for good measure!! Next year I might limit myself to just the one dinner. All that tryptophan nearly made my heart stop.

Not waiting till 2012!

It's the end of the world. I'm too busy at work to Blog or play Bejeweled Blitz. Putting witty banter out into the world and blowing up precious stones will have to wait until after Dec 10th. This is saddlehoft indeed....

ps-note to self, Thanksgiving must only be one day next year. I can't eat like that 4 out of 5 days, all that tryptophan almost stopped my heart.

Giddy Girl!!

Everyone knows I love to laugh and when I really get going I have to be careful not to give myself an asthma attack. Recently after finding an old photo of me laughing I remembered one taken not to long ago at my World Famous Wig Party. I might have gotten older but the face and the laugh are the same!!!

WATCH OUT WORLD!!

I'm wearing a dress tomorrow. Really. No lie. It's for Santa. This was the last time I wore a dress. Clearly this is a big deal. lol!

Greetings!!

Actually greeting cards may be on there way out of fashion. But nothing to me says "I love you, or I care about you," like an honest to god greeting card. I have an accordion file full of them because I can't seem to throw them away. I've tried, but rereading them usually fills me with warmth and thoughts of the sender and I just can't bear to part with it.

Martha Stewart if you're reading come up with something beautiful and crafty I can do with them so I can chuck the file and enjoy them year round.

Vinnie Costa is the KING of greeting cards. Every holiday & birthday I get a hand made card from him....the inscriptions are minimal but they aren't the point. The fact that he makes them is....with his tiny gay hands and mails them to me without fail makes me glad to visit my mail box.

One of my favorite cards I received surfaced while cleaning out my desk its title
If we were hamsters....

If we were hamsters, we'd snack, we'd nap, we’d think about working out, we'd snack again, nap some more....(open card) hey...wait a minute!

Insert chuckle....how can I throw something like that away???

Send a card...shock the crap out of a friend married to their “crackberry”!!! You won't regret it....

The New Math

When I moved into the treehouse my rent was $1,000 a month. Roughly $32.25 a day on an average 31 day month....it's now $1,450 a month which is $46.77 a day. This is only a $14.52 increase over the past seven years.....

This doesn't sound that bad but sounding and paying are two different things.

10/28/09 - Return of the Wormhole

Brandy Rowell is slowly recovering from a wormhole filled with beautiful funny women, grand marnier, and Irish music. That is about all I have the strength to say regarding last night....

Other than I hope karma bites that asshat who spent $400 of my money after finding my wallet.

I’ll miss my work ID photo the most, that picture made a lot of people laugh…oh well off to the DMV!

Brandy Rowell, Inc.

Over the years I have had ideas of what to name my production company. It's definitely a "when" it happens not and "if" it happens notion so I want to be prepared.

Here are the titles & their possible tag lines in the running in no particular order:

3 Legged Dog, Inc.
Hope is tomorrow's veneer over today's disappointment.
If a 3 Legged Dog can greet the day with a smile, so can I!
One leg down, three to go!

Ringer Neck Productions, Inc.
If it doesn't make you crazy, it's probably not worth it!

Virgin Sandbox Kids, Inc.
You might have to get old but you never have to grow up!

Brandylion Gate, Inc.
The pussy who roars!

1 Joke B, Inc.
Never tell a joke twice!

MTH Productions, Inc.
Magic Treehouse Productions, Inc.

Farced Face, Inc.
Bang it, Slam it, Shoot it!

Coward, Porter, Wilde, Williams, Rowell & Dean, LLP
5 Fags & a Hag

Whatever it might end up being, trust it will be witty, & bright just like me and my friends who are beggars at the feast! Oooo that's good to
Beggars at the Feast, Inc. Hahaha!!

Flirting Part II

Ok so where were we? Oh yes...after my set the pretty curly haired girl tapped me on the shoulder and apologized for interrupting my set. I was like please tell me what I said wrong, she went on about how my definition of "buggery" was a little off but I was correct in that during Elizabethan times homosexuality was punishable by death. Blah Blah Blah I really didn't even care all that much because she smelled great....

Some of her friends appeared and she went upstairs and the boys and I continued our prayer meeting. A bit later she & her friends came back downstairs and started talking with Tom. He caught my eye and mouthed to me..."she's straight." I nodded in agreement it was clear from the get go and that's fine. Expected and fine. She said she had just gotten her first big girl apartment and we all had a drink to celebrate. The boys went to smoke and she sat next to me. She pressed her leg against mine and at first I thought she was just getting her balance on the stool but then it stayed there. Hmmmm....She said she couldn't wait to move into her new apt. and that she had been staying with her old roommate from college. She gestured toward a tall beautiful red head in the corner. We've been sharing a bed the past couple of nights because I hate my current roommates and just can't go back there....I died a little inside, kinda like when I watch Joan leave a room on Mad Men.

Gerry had started his set at the piano and she asked me if he took requests. I turned to Brian and he said sure if you wright it on a dollar. She laughed and looked at me, "How about Brandy you're a fine girl?" Now that's flirting right??? It felt like flirting...I don't know. She is performing in the show next week and asked more than once to make sure I would be there to give her feed back on her set. Stay tuned readers there maybe a Part III.

Hahahaha!!

Flirting.....

Ok it's been A-WHILE since a pretty girl flirted with me but I believe that it happened last night at the Duplex. I got to close the show which is fun even though the audience had thinned a bit. Pulling out all new material, in an attempt to build an act, surprisingly it went well, really well and I am excited to see if it can't grow it even further.

After my set I went to get my usual review from my peanut gallery (i.e. Tom) and he said it was a solid double. Excellent. He was also pleased with his "heckle" of me which got a huge laugh. I was proud of him too!! He really is a funny guy, and I enjoy when he tops me in public!! lol!!

Kurt a very attractive man was sitting with Tom, flirting with him is more accurate. He said that he had to pee but after hearing me stayed, to see the rest of my set. I went to shake his hand and he kissed it. Enchantée!! Lovely!! Nothing feels better than the adoration of a gay man. They are hard to impress but once they're on your side you're princess for a day! Or in my case a lifetime!!

A curly blonde headed girl with bold eye wear had also interrupted my set, the atmosphere at the Duplex is usually light and breezy with an air of audience participation which I like, who can't use some unsolicited market research. However, she got embarrassed and didn't finish what she wanted to say to me about my Shakespearean anecdote. Awwww cute.

Suddenly I don't feel like, sharing anymore, I just heard my mother in my head, or was it Oprah? Saying, “keep this little flirt to yourself awhile longer, enjoy it just for you.” But stay tuned I'll dish the dirt eventually....Ta for now!

Where do you live?

This weekend I was asked why I call my apartment the Magic Treehouse. It was hard for me to explain why? It makes all the sense in the world to me. We all know Hobbits live in a shire, Trolls live under bridges, Princesses in castles, & wild ponies reside on the moors. The girl I mean to be lives in a treehouse....

I need a place where I can go,
Where I can whisper what I know,
Where I can whisper who I like
And where I go to see them.

I need a place where I can hide,
Where no one sees my life inside,
Where I can make my plans, and write them down
So I can read them.

A place where I can bid my heart be still
And it will mind me.
A place where I can go when I am lost,
And there I'll find me.

I need a place to spend the day,
Where no one says to go or stay,
Where I can take my pen and draw
The girl I mean to be.

So I ask you dear reader, where do you live?

Freud Alert!!

Over the past month or so I have not been able to sleep. When I do sleep I am having some crazy dreams.

Last night was the best yet!! I’m in a production of Les Misérables with Amy Poehler and Tina Fey. Truly an amazing moment in subconscious non-reality theatre history. Amy and I are in the wings and I look at her like, "what are you doing here?" I can’t believe you are in the show. Amy’s says, "if I don’t show up they don’t give me my check and mamma needs to get paid!" I start laughing and then see Tina Fey and she looks at me and says, "are we gonna ride this Lazy Suzanne or what?"

They march out onto the turntable like they’ve been doing it for years and I can’t stop laughing…..I wake up laughing. I roll over hoping to rejoin them on the barricade but end up fighting giant snails with Frodo in the shire.

What is happening???

Belief

Friday night I spent with Todd & Olivia we went to see Believe: The Eddie Izzard Story at Village East Cinemas. Since I have the directional capabilities of someone with vertigo and a bag over their head I naturally went to the wrong movie theatre. Village Cinema on 12th & University is not playing Believe. Thank goodness Village East is only a few avenues over and I managed to redirect myself. Arriving at the theatre I did not see my Ed-Head crew but did see the ancient former Mayor of New York Ed Koch. He climbed the staircase as if he was ascending into the heavens awaiting his eternal reward. He made his way to the concession stand and I wondered which movie he was there to see, my bet was on Zombieland since he looked like one.

The universe is nutty in that I had just watched the documentary "Outrage" on HBO. If you haven't heard, Outrage argues that several American political figures have led closeted gay lives while supporting and endorsing legislation that is harmful to the gay community. One of the conjectures in the film is that Mr. Koch had had a boyfriend whom he had pressured to leave New York and remain silent about their relationship. In an interview with New York Post, Ed Koch denounced the film and claimed that it mischaracterized his record on gay issues. He did not respond to the film's assertions that he had failed to adequately respond to the New York's AIDS epidemic, or to the film's allegations about his past same sex relationships.

The small advocate part of me wanted to go up to him and ask him face to face about it. But as I am a blushing petal in the Wedding Bouquet of life I did not do so, confrontation is not one of my strong suits. Plus, he looked so frail and tired that really what would be the point. Pity won the day.

Todd & Olivia arrived shortly after and we settled into the theatre for our Eddie treat. The film basically traced his whole life from childhood to a sold out performance at Wembley Arena. With archival footage and family photos we see young Edward evolve from school boy to street performer to stand-up comic to being an out transvestite multi-media star.

It was so amazing to see him work out new material just like the rest of us. Slogging away for years in the nothingness to become an “overnight” success is heartening for someone like me. Eddie said that you have to believe you are something before you become it. He had to believe that he was a performer even though people said he wasn’t, he had to believe that what he thought was funny was funny. I mean a bit about being raised by wolves isn’t your usual comic fare, but it was the joke that got him on the national radar and led him to selling over 350,000 tickets to his Stripped Concert Tour.

After the movie we tumbled into the Telephone bar, making it a theme night of sorts. I had two black & tans and an order of bangers & mash.
Food and ale fit for any transvestite who trots the boards.

As I look forward to my upcoming shows with Eddie on my shoulder his stilettos digging into my shoulder blade I will recite my tiny prayer…I believe, I believe, I believe…..Ta!!

The Nights of Wine, Roses & Farewells!!

My sister in Spirits & in Booth Anne Tolpegin (aka Tits McGee) is leaving for Japan to do a singing gig until December 21st. How often does one get to wear a ball gown and sing Circle of Life & When You Wish upon a Star in Japanese? When the Mouse calls you grab your knickers and go.

She had a Sayonara party at Wine & Roses last night a tiny place where her nearest and dearest could met for a splash before she dashes off to the Orient. Granted it was Columbus Day so most people were off work, but it was a Monday and technically a school night so why was everyone at this itty bitty bar on the UWS??? I stood in what I referred to as “the birth canal” a small opening that must be passed through if one wanted to exit and or use the bathroom. One on my pet peeves or ODC’s is that I can’t stand being in the “way”. On several occasions I thought I was just going to starting yelling while flailing my arms about in hopes of acquiring ample personal space and perhaps a slight breeze. There was NO WHERE to go and NO AIR thusly I was sweating as if skewered on a poker by the Spanish Inquisition. (insert Monty Python at will)

I met some really nice folks in our game of 6 degrees of Anne Tolpegin. I had a beer, and managed to juggle my junk as an array of people, who all looked the same, looked at me as if I was some Eastside freak who wandered to far west and needed directions. Around 8:30pm the herd started to thin a little and we managed to squeeze into a table with the remaining Tolpegin bunch. I noticed two thin gay men looking at me. More than once I caught them looking and pointing. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but then the waitress said they were expecting a large party and we had to wrap it up by 9pm which was fine because most everyone had rehearsal in the morning.

My new evil twin Jacob Climer and I spied two other gentlemen and played are they straight or gay. With their tailored to impress clothing and odd gay hair circa 1994 I was sure they were gay. Jacob was not convinced, until he walked up to the bar for closer inspection and mouthed to me, “YOU WERE RIGHT!” We then notice a hodge podge of B level “stars” filtering into the place and that’s when the manager came over and said, “I’m sorry but you got to go.” We were settling up and grabbing coats as he said this, clearly we are going Mister.

I looked up and saw Sherri Shepherd. Who in my opinion is the black version of Kristin Chenoweth. Not talent wise but in stature and boobage!! All tits, hair and smiles. I couldn’t look her directly in the eye because frankly, I’ve seen her sitcom. Her stock with me has gone down because it is AWFUL with a capital yuck. But hey she’s not the one getting kicked out of a bar, I am, as I walked past her my head lowered, I approached the door and saw Claudia Shear which almost made me cry. We gathered outside and saw a sign for gaylifenyc.org or something. Maybe some fund raising event?? Who can say? As we walked away Carol Kane and her crew strutted by clearly headed to the party, I looked her in the eye and she smiled, we both had made bold ear wear choices so there’s automatically a sisterly bond.

I was home by 10pm, a new record for me to say the least but I couldn’t help but wonder who was watching Jeffrey???

TOO MUCH & TOO LITTLE OF ME TO GO AROUND!

This week is going to be a marathon of sorts. Originally I had planned to be away the 13th-18th, the amazing Jackie Monahan asked me to open for her during Women's Week in Provincetown, MA unfortunately I could not find anywhere to stay. I shook every tree I could think of, friends asked friends, I even considered sleeping on the beach. But hello it's OCTOBER!! I really wanted to do the gig. I need more of those opportunities because I need to get out of my comfort zone and really scare the self doubt outta me. Oh well maybe next year....

So I down shifted into what was out there for me to do if I stayed in town. Holy crap, I have a good-bye party, a birthday party, a show w/ friends, on Thursday I know I have something but I can't remember?? Friday is Vinnie's Bar Wars premiere but my DVR has that covered. I need to see if the boys are coming over for dinner this weekend. I've been promising them my Mom's Lasagna for months now. Need to find time to spend with new favorite straight couple Eleanor & Dan. And Sunday night is quality time with Madeleine, but after this week I'm not sure if I will be awake for the quality time or the Mad Men...lol!!

Wish me lucky readers and if you have any Red Bull lying around send it to the tree house STAT!!!

Currently.....

I am not only in charge of my life, which is a full time shit storm of juggling four universes in which I am a full time player. I am also responsible for the management and time allotments on 5 other lives at work!!! And no readers there has not been a discussion of a pay raise, in this economic climate more = less. Ugh!!!

Making it Happen

Since my father died I’ve pretty much had my head in the ground as far as comedy goes. Doing a random spot here and there, half heartedly “pursuing” my dream but really only doing enough to get the performance fix when I needed it. Then came the baby leg years, yes I said years, having that operation was THE single worst idea ever and threw me back light years in my weight loss.

In July at Camp Wells I made a silent promise to myself to get back on track. Well things are picking up, I’m booking shows, writing material, watching footage of people who inspired me in the first place to do this crazy thing called stand-up. I’m not letting my inner critic fill me with fear. I’m just keeping my head down and my heart open to be brave and just be me; be the funny girl I have always been and if I bomb who cares we chuck it in the bin and move forward NOT back.

Plus, people keep telling me I look like I’ve lost weight. Which doesn’t suck either…..

New British Obsession

I've always been partial to the BBC. In fact I prefer it, the writing is always smarter, wittier, dryer, and frankly NOT censored which is a HUGE plus. In the end America usually ends up nicking off the best stuff and repackaging it for mass consumption. Thank god there is the BBC-America channel, while censored to a degree you still get the flavor and intent of the original version before it's been sterilized by the puritanical FCC. If you worry about thick accents, never fear they use subtitles to decipher the worst of my newest obsessions broken English.

My find is called Skins. This show makes Gossip Girl look like Little House on the Prairie. These kids are AMAZING. The subject matter and frankness make me blush.

I think we discover shows when we need to. Fumbling across the dial I started with the first season of the second generation of the show. Apparently, save a few characters after the second season of the first generation they completely recast. I look forward to going back and watching the first 2 seasons but for right now I am enthralled with this bunch from Bristol.

I find myself reliving high school through the eyes of Emily & Naomi. Their story line is deliciously tortuous, it rings completely true of how it feels to be an adolescent and gay, only they get to express it or not express it or get drunk and make out and then freak out!! Genius!!! If I could go back now with the knowledge I have things would have been infinitely easier and I could have saved so much money on therapy. As they say hind sight is 20/20, to bad I has a stigmatism growing up.

Effy, Freddie & Cook make Romeo and Juliet look like a successful relationship. Panda is adorable in her naiveté with conflicted love for both Cook & Thomas who couldn't be different lads. JJ is the over medicated introvert that just wants his two best mates Cook & Freddie to just leave Effy alone, but secretly loves her too. Then there's Katie who is Emily's twin sister (how Shakespearean to throw that little bit in) who after being hit in the head by Effy who is tripping on s'rooms on a over night camping trip tightens her grip on Freddie pulling him father away from his one true love Effy. Effy is one of the hold overs from the first generation and I can see why. This little tart would eat Blake Lively for lunch. She looks about 23 but acts like Glenn Close in Dangerous Liaisons. I love her and hate her all at the same time.

Part of me wants to move to England and start writing in a environment that isn't shackled by convention and the need to regurgitate the same old story lines over and over. But for now this will do...

SKINS

Lease Renewal 1 - Brandy 0

The Magic Tree House is still mine!

In August after receiving my lease renewal agreement, I thought my rent was going up to $1802 for an additional 2years commitment. I thought I had read all through the lease. I figured if I had gotten to the child guard window and lead paint rider that was it.

Nope, lurking behind that unnecessary document was the amendment offering me my apt. at the current price $1450 for another two years. Clearly a wave of stupidity ran over me. It was right there the whole time and for a month and a half I agonized over having to leave my magic tree house. “Always read the fine print,” my Dad used to say. How about read every page you silly cow. Ugh.

So I am safe and sound until 10/31/11. I did think about asking them to extend my lease until December 21, 2012 which is the end of the Mayan calendar and supposedly the “end of the world”. Because it would totally suck to have to move all the stuff for less than two months just to watch it all go up in flames anyway. Here’s hoping the Mayan’s and the History Channel are wrong!

Farming in the Big City!

While walking Kayla on our usual root. We passed Jubilee, a tiny French influenced American Bistro like cubby hole of a restaurant. I looked down and spied the unbelivable....a tomato plant!!!

Amongst the poppies!! Looky there Kayla tomatoes like they grow down on the farm. I took another photo just to make sure it wasn't all a dream!!!

Only to have Kayla get tangled in the plant with her leash which snapped off one of the baby tomatoes!! Nooooooo!!! I screamed as it rolled into the street. I checked to see if anyone saw us commit the vegetarian drive by. The coast was clear; I apologized to the little mater as I threw it into the poppy bed. Sorry little fellow you'll have to settle for a life as fertilizer instead of salad garnish.

From one basterd to another....

I'm cheap. Maybe it's come with age, but I who once was a matinee regular have waned against going out to the movies since the price of a ticket on the island of Manhattan has escalated to $12.50.

However there are always exceptions.

My first exposure to Quentin Tarantino came late. Reservoir Dogs premiered in 1992 and I didn't see it till the summer of 1994. In a communal hall of a dormitory on the campus of Vassar College I received an education of where American film was going and at the wheel was its newest revolutionary Quentin Tarantino. Like a babe in the woods my doors got blown off as I watched his freshman debut which was dubbed, "The Greatest Independent Film of all Time" by Empire Magazine. He broke all the rules and yet everything about it seemed familiar. Albeit covered in blood, it was like seeing all the best of the “heist” genre melted together into a perfect opus of “if there is honor among thieves then what went wrong?” with “I smell a rat?”

Over the years I have become a true fan of his films. There’s something special about a director who is in love with movies and tips his hat whenever he can to pay homage to those who inspired him to pursue his current folly. The writer/director sits before a clean white page and creates it all from nothing, instead of shopping around for whatever might be lying around Hollywood, only to churn out another ho-hum I’m going tell you the whole story in the trailer piece of drivel. Only QT doesn’t role like that….hell no.

People say Pulp Fiction is his masterpiece but I say nay. Maybe it’s because I haven’t visited that motley crew in awhile, but I believe Quentin’s Inglorious Basterds is clearly an elevation up from his current canon. He has created another unexplored genre by scooping out part war mission film, with a side of western tendencies, topping it all off with a revenge cherry. He has created the ultimate decadent eye candy, the Jewish Fantasy Revenge Porn. Something that I don’t think we have ever seen the likes of before now.

Porn might be a throw away just to keep your attention on my blog. Because really there isn’t much gratuitous sex in the movie itself aside from Joseph Goebbels getting his rocks off with his French translator in a brief cut away and Brad Pitt sticking his finger into a bloody bullet hole that’s pierced the leg of the beautiful & talented actress Diane Kruger (aka Bridget von Hammersmark). I give Tarantino huge props for not even considering a dalliance between Pitt and Krugar which could have happened but didn’t because Jane Champion didn’t direct this movie Quentin Tarantino did so ladies scurry off to Bright Stars if you favor swooning over scalping Apache style.

As I think about continuing this blog I am overwhelmed by everything spinning in my mind. There are so many tiny nuances that just made me so happy and moments that made me shout out Scheiße!!! The performances by Christoph Waltz (aka Col. Hans Landa-“The Jew Hunter”-SS) which won him the best actor award at this year's Cannes Film Festival will surely receive an Oscar nod as well. His career as a regular German TV star is now over and he must look forward to his bright future as a contending film star - his next project The Green Hornet. An amazing performance that on so many levels makes you think about how sinister and complicated one person can be. He kept me guessing at very turn with random bits & outbursts uncommon to our usual Nazi fare, ultimately getting the best satisfactory “end” befitting someone of his stature in the SS.

Brad Pitt (aka Lt/ Aldo Raine) a former moon shiner from the hills of Tennessee with a rope burn around his neck that never gets explained away. Tarantino said he does those kinds of things on purpose. Details that he lets the movie goer fill in with their back story. Another example is the brief case in Pulp Fiction you don't know what's in there but you know it must be good! That way he says the audience member makes it their movie. They actively participate by writing their version of whatever detail he has shown us. I LOVE THAT!!!

As you previously read I appall being told everything little thing about the plot, the characters, I'm not stupid, I know what something means, and can use my imagination to fill in the rest. Mr. Pitt makes his lines that if flung off any other persons tongue would seem corny or unbelievable I bought every twang and colloquialism, Audie Murphy would be proud.

All of the Basterds had many excellent character moments too many to review, I’ll only say “Italian Hands” & “The Jewish Bear” along with “The Little Man” were my favorites.

Let's not forget the lovely ladies of the film, Mélanie Laurent (aka Shosanna Dreyfus) she IS the face of Jewish vengeance! Her performance is practically all in the silences, heart wrenching, powerful non-speaking moments that take your breath away.

Then her exact opposite is Diane Kruger (aka Bridget von Hammersmark) the double talking, double agent that you wish hadn’t pulled a Cinderella. See the movie you’ll know what I mean.

Underlying the entire film is a thin well place layer of comedy. Especially noted in the darker moments of the film. A scalping here, and head bashing there….I’m sorry it is human nature to follow such horrific scenes with a beat of humor. It does not make fun of the situation in the least, but lets the mind process the atrocity and move forward. It’s simply a coping mechanism. Quentin gets some heat for his humor, but I stand by every dark, black line he has written here.

I could go on and on the brilliant Mike Meyers as the foppish English Col. The voice overs (unaccredited by the way) of Samuel Jackson & Harvey Keitel, the music, the set design and the cinematography all working together to bring this world to life. The moment the movie ended I wanted to yell up to Marcel (aka -Shosanna’s gorgeous black projectionist) to run it again!! I can’t wait to take a second; a third and perhaps a fourth look into a fantasy that I wish could have been reality!!

Viva la Tarantino!! Long live the Basterds!!!

Whitney & Oprah!

Ok was it me or at the end of Oprah's interview with Whitney, at the famed Town Hall in NYC, were they about to make out? I mean Whitney did teach Oprah about the advantages of lacing your pot with cocaine and they both did pray on the impending interview before it actually took place. Sending I love you vibes out to each other between floors of some Manhattan high rise. Sounds like the makings of a Lesbo Lovefest to me!! Gayle must be seething!! I mean she did ride with Oprah all the way to the airport to make sure she got every little detail of the O/W encounter....whatever the case I was moved.

I didn't buy all of what Whitney was saying but I am glad she's out of "whatever" was straining her spirit. Whether it be Bobby or drugs, or the evil eyes I'm just glad she's back, the voice of a generation sounds a bit worse for wear but her new anthem just gets me where I live.

"I Didn't Know My Own Strength" makes me wonder if I have enough left to get me to where I need to go. Which at this moment in my life is uncertain. I have a lot of adult decisions to make in the coming weeks and frankly I'm not sure which will be the best for me. I've tried to open myself up, be quiet and listen to my angels but they seem to be on holiday. Maybe I'm really on my own now. I have to remember what I do is for me not anybody else.

I've been wearing my Mother's wedding ring and my Father's dog tags. Trying to glean any mojo or wisdom that might spark my mind in the right direction. Like Gloria Vanderbilt I feel like a little girl lost. Nothing seems clear however no matter what happens in light of the decisions I make, I will survive a'la Gloria Gaynor. I wasn't built to break and if I haven't broken by now chances are I'll hold it together.

VMA's - Circa 2009

The media has been in a whirl of controversy over all the inappropriate outbursts this week. The latest from the VMA’s, which I don’t think I have watched since the infamous Madonna/Britney/Christina triple kiss. I tuned in because Russell Brand made quite a showing on The View the Friday before and I couldn’t resist seeing what my saucy, tightly panted Brit might pull.

The show itself has evolved into a masturbatory platform for plugging projects. Including the premiere of the “New Moon” Trailer which is a feature film and while containing music is NOT a music video at all!! This massively overproduced circus is NOT about the awards themselves numbering 15. It takes an hour of pre-show and then nearly 3 hours of actual show to present just 7 little, silver moon men. The other 8 don’t make it to the tube because they revolve around silly things like, direction, choreography & special effects. Clearly not material worthy of presentation by some dirty, white kid staring on the WB 11’s time to stop, pick out an outfit and convey weak patter before another commercial break. Much ado about nothing waxes through my mind like a beacon from the bard.

Ultimately, the entire spectacle was over shadowed by Kanye West’s rude interruption of Taylor Swift's win. In light of this I would like to say that some of the performances should be noted. The Michael Jackson tribute that opened the show was off the chain. Now I love me some Madonna but if she had said “I” one more time “I” would have had to bitch slap my icon of choice. It did occur to me that MTV is the house that Michael and Madonna built. Sure there are other artists that can be included in the foundation of the Music Television Network but the infrastructure hangs off the decades of Michael & Madonna turning out videos that captured our imaginations and made us move to the beat. It’s sad they don’t play videos anymore.

Then Pink flying through the air singing Sober was a little Barnum for me but I couldn’t believe that she was turning it out high above the masses with their mouths agape.

Lady Gaga working her tranny ass with outfits that I appreciate but do not understand. She is walking art people. Period. She removed the red lace blotter from her face after winning her first Moon Man and exclaimed, "This is for the gays!" Made me reminisce over Camryn Manheim’s "This is for all the fat girls!" Love it when celebrities give props to the people that got them there!!

And last but not least Beyoncé….girl. I was a mediocre fan before, but I am a true believer now. Not just because you managed to “fix” Kanye’s misstep by being the classiest VMA winner ever, but because your live performance made me believe that some people have talent. Actual physical talent, not just canned lip-sync’d lazy-ography (insert my review of Britney’s performance at MSG). I still can’t believe anyone dances like that and doesn’t break a hip or an ankle or snaps a knee. Girl you turned my eye and I have nothing but love for you now even though you made Obsessed.

Americas sex drive and where it went?

In 1996, the average American had sex 138 times a year. Compare that to 2007, when people reported having sex just 85 times a year. That's a staggering 38 percent decrease in a little more than a decade. Furthermore, psychologists estimate that as many as 1 in 5 couples are in a sexless marriage, which means sex less than 10 times a year. In other words, our sex drive is in a deep dive. -MSN

So a sexless marriage means that you do have sex at least 10 times a year. Wow, ten whole times = sexless? Hmmmmm, I wonder what the gay equivalent is? I mean there is lesbian bed death and some gay men go through dry periods. But if straight people are poo-pooing 10 whole times a year then what in the world would be normal? What's the other end of the bell jar look like? Where's that study about the people getting too much sex? I guess that's possible. Sex addicts anonymous and all, but that has to be a tiny percentage of people who clearly have no regular employment. I guess I just have to add that to the list of things I'll never contract: sex addiction, food allergies & anorexia.

As long as straight people do it enough to keep having gay people I really don't care. I mean technically we don't need them, but the best gay kids come from those Republican bible thumping states so ya'll stop praying & opposing a public option and get busy. Except for the Duggars PLEASE STOP having babies. You're embarrassing the Christians.

I suddenly feel like I have blogged about this before....can you Déjà blog? Or maybe it's been so long all I can think about is, "sex is that fun thing I used to do all the time before the baby leg?" Hmmmmm, can you have lesbian bed death by yourself?

The Enneagram: 2-6-8

Self discovery is the journey that never ends. So I continue to take "tests" to see what exactly I'm made of and because a few of my friends are on the "crunchy" side I have been confronted with The Enneagram. Which is a rich and practical study of personal growth based on ancient teachings of mysterious origins. Today, this study has a modern overlay of psychological typing rooted in these ancient teachings.

The Enneagram of personality describes nine distinct types. Each personality type is defined by a chief mental and emotional concern which underlies the development of the personality and highly influences the life experiences of the person who falls under that particular Enneagram type.

Apparently I am a 2-6-8....a rowdy combo of those listed below...feel free to let me know where you think I fall....my personl growth depends on it. LOL!

Type Two: The Helper
The Caring, Interpersonal Type: Demonstrative, Generous, People-Pleasing, and Possessive

Twos are empathetic, sincere, and warm-hearted. They are friendly, generous, and self-sacrificing, but can also be sentimental, flattering, and people-pleasing. They are well-meaning and driven to be close to others, but can slip into doing things for others in order to be needed. They typically have problems with possessiveness and with acknowledging their own needs. At their Best: unselfish and altruistic, they have unconditional love for others.

Type Six: The Loyalist
The Committed, Security-Oriented Type: Engaging, Responsible, Anxious, and Suspicious

Sixes are reliable, hard-working, responsible, and trustworthy. Excellent "troubleshooters," they foresee problems and foster cooperation, but can also become defensive, evasive, and anxious-running on stress while complaining about it. They can be cautious and indecisive, but also reactive, defiant and rebellious. They typically have problems with self-doubt and suspicion. At their Best: internally stable and self-reliant, courageously championing themselves and others.

Type Eight: The Challenger
The Powerful, Dominating Type: Self-Confident, Decisive, Willful, and Confrontational

Eights are self-confident, strong, and assertive. Protective, resourceful, straight-talking, and decisive, but can also be ego-centric and domineering. Eights feel they must control their environment, especially people, sometimes becoming confrontational and intimidating. Eights typically have problems with their tempers and with allowing themselves to be vulnerable. At their Best: self-mastering, they use their strength to improve others' lives, becoming heroic, magnanimous, and inspiring

It's Britney Bitch!

Going to a Britney Spears concert is not on my bucket list. However through the power of the universe I got a free ticket to see Ms. Spears and her Circus at MSG last night.

We timed out entrance perfectly sitting just has the hula hoop lady & tumblers finished up their bit and the curtain came down for the main event. The show started with a lavish video welcome by none other than Ms. Perez Hilton doing his best Queen of Hearts impersonation. For the first time I thought ok, that's kinda brilliant. Getting that crazy Vlog queen, who after slashing Britney to bits over the years, to step and fetch it before she takes the stage gets two thumbs up from me. Because really with out the likes of her where would he be, in line at the Sizzler that's where. So say thank you to the nice lady and go to the salad bar Perez.

Britney's big reveal blew me out of the water. Not because it was SO amazing but because Madison Square Gardens went completely insane. Immediately everyone below us flipped on their phones to catch Ms. Spears in action. A sea of blue light fire flies filled the floor. Their screams almost blotted out the thump-thump of the opening number.

She looked good in her over the top white glitter corset, her weave flapping in the breeze occasionally getting tangled in her hands free mic, which was clearly her best accessory of the night. She by no means was singing, chewing the shit out of her gum yes, but singing no. Note to dresser take Britney's gum out of her mouth before she makes her entrance. With her head plastered on a jumbo tron that chicklet is the size of a bus and destroys any illusion we might have of her actually "singing".

That's when I had my first transcendental thought about what I was seeing. The thousands of fans with there devices held high weren't actually taking the time to experience the concert, to have a moment in the same space and time as Britney. But rather recording a recording of her lip syncing to a recording that they probably already have on their ipods. All of them so desperate to capture a "personal" moment to later show friends at parties or post on you tube. They stood completely disconnected to reality and just watched a subpar grainy copy brought to you by the Verizon network.

Her dancers were outstanding there bodies doing things that frankly defy gravity and all sense of propriety, making Britney look even worse, as she marked her way through numbers or took rides across the stage on various wheeled furniture. Okay so you aren’t singing and you are barely dancing, at best it was a rhythmic strut broken up by brief moments of her shaking her ass. So why all the hoo-ha?

I’ll tell you why, towards the end of the concert they show this video montage of the best of Brit. A decade of unbelievable work before her career got “Federlined” and everything went completely off course to crazytown. Visually reminding us that she had “it”, where “it” went wasn’t a question in the subconscious of her fans all they know is that “it” is back. Bouncing through her life I couldn’t believe all I had forgotten the crescendo building to the Madonna kiss and on cue it incited MSG to raise the roar to another feverish pitch.

Britney as we all knew and loved her flashing before our eyes. Over time we forgive all her missteps, we know how America loves a comeback. Especially after we’ve built someone up so high only to knocked them down just to see what they’ll do next. That is what made it all so surreal. The people gathering in this urban coliseum to see if it would be thumbs up or thumbs down for the Princess of Pop. Clearly the bitch is inching her way back. She’s under tight wraps. Her patter limited to, “Hey New York! How are you doing?” and “Good night New York! Thank you!” Really after all her time performing that’s the best she can do? But like I said that’s all “they” probably will let her do.

She did sing one ballad sitting in a ring that flew above the stage. It was a quiet moment in a sea of leather, bondage and masked freakdom accented by the odd whip or chain, clearly stolen from an old Madonna concert, rehashed but still titillating us in it's veiled material girl homage. She was quiet and sang into a hand held mic, her voice soft and melodic trained and ready. She can do it live, she should do it live. I thought about the greats from the ‘70’s & ‘80’s who would never have dared NOT to sing live. I wonder if there will ever be a Britney that just shows up one day with her band, a Persian rug and just sings. Probably not.

I have never seen one person do so little before so many and make so much in my life. No one seemed to care, not really, we give her a hard time for it but we really don’t want anything else from her. Does she want more from her life as an artist? Or is she happy being wound up and tossed around this Circus? Maybe she’s made peace with that and will make another album maybe two, but then disappear giving way to the next pop idol.

I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, and won’t that be fun.

Blessings....

This weekend I got a treat. A small gift from the great state of Illinois purchased at the infamous Uncle Fun Emporium. My partner in crime, sister in spirit and in truth, my go to plus one and all round gal pal Madeleine Maby decided to take a chance on the power of the divine or reasonable facsimile there of and bought me Jesus Band-Aids.

Doing her part in the unending saga that is “the baby leg” she thought a little Jesus couldn’t hurt. I mean he did allegedly heal people so why not give his holiness a try on my wounds.

So far so good….leakage has officially stopped. My sock was free of goo this morning as I arrived to work, (knock on wood – clearly I’m not religious or superstitious). This after only wearing the Jesus bandage for two days!! Is it a miracle??? I’m not complaining!!

Big Busy Night!

Tonight might be a little too eventful but I'm gonna try and pull it off in the grand Brandy style which we all have become accustom.

5:30pm - leave for BAM to meet Ryan and Kelly for a showing of The Philadelphia Story. Where the hell is BAM?

6:50pm - MOVIE

8:50pm - Leave BAM destination UCB, BAR or TBD. Killing time until.

11:00pm - Late Show at Don't Tell Mama's. It might be too soon to be shaking this new comedy jelly in front of a late night audience but stage time is stage time. If you wanna see the train wreck swing by Mama's it's on 46th bet 8th & 9th Ave...NO COVER - 2 Drinks - Cash Only (what?? you're out drinking anyway)

1:00am - Show Over - head to UCB for 2:00am spot at the Del Close Improv Marathon to see dear friend Sarah Beckman shake her jelly. Her jelly is from Chicago so it's deep dish and worth the trip.

2:30/3:00am - MORE DRINKING??? or Death I can't be sure....is this really the secret to staying young? Pray for me.

Shabbat Shalom!

Batter Up!

It's been three weeks since I started my journey back into doing stand-up on the regular. It's the bottom of the 1st inning and so far my stats are on the rise.

7/29 - Strike Out
8/5 - Triple Play (almost a home run but the ball tipped the fence)
8/12 - Double Play (solid and entertaining)

As most of you know I'm not really a sports person. So the baseball metaphor comes from my newest bar side reviewer Tom Privitere. A small group of us decided that we didn't see each other nearly enough over the past year. Once maybe every 6 months and then perhaps at the holidays or at the random game night.

So Wednesday Night has become our prayer meeting. 2 for 1 and the Duplex and possibly a chance to see me be funny at the Suddenly Stand-Up Open Mic, hosted by Poppi Kramer or Micheal Brill, depending on Poppi's very busy and important schedule.

Tom has a razor wit of his own and you can't BS Tom, if it stinks he'll tell you. This I like. Straight forward no ego stroking nonsense. So stay tuned maybe they'll be a grand slam on the horizon!!

Gooooo Team!

BLOG BY REQUEST - #1

Requested by Jillian Horwitz
Relationship: Work Colleague
Topic: Being Dumped...

The act of being dumped can vary. Usually our first forays into rejection come when retrieving our shy missives from grubby middle school hands, "check this box" if you like me is how we test the waters of relationships. The anticipation of unfolding the well crafted notebook emissary builds only to find NO clearly marked in pencil. This sends a pang through our tiny selves. We might well up and cry a bit before dismissing it; our hearts are more resilient in youth and can take such slights in stride with little more than a whimper and an ice cream treat.

However as we mature and grow into our dating we deepen attachments. Reveal more of who we are or might be to those we draw near. Warily peeking the door open and pushing the fear aside to bring another soul in for a closer look. That’s when the “dumping” becomes savage in nature. Not just a thoughtlessly checked box because you might have cooties, but a clear rebuff after the knowing, after the reveal of your most treasured secrets, to be dumped feels like the end.

Which it is, the end of intimacy with the person you trusted with your holy of holies. The “one” you thought saw you. Being seen is very tricky because you don’t want to be seen too soon. We guard ourselves just for this reason; too much too soon can bring about a dismissal prematurely. A wise dater takes baby steps and waits to see how much the intended “wants” to know and conversely this works for us as well, because early on they too might have cooties. Getting to know someone in small increments is the best way to avoid the crush of the dump, which is easier than it sounds because the rush of our hormones and the need to be understood can work against us.

We all come into this world alone and then spend the next 60 to 80 years trying to find the right person to spend time with until we exit stage left. We all want to be loved, to be seen, to show someone else how broken or faulted we might be and know that they love us no matter what. We fall in love. When we get dumped the fall ends abruptly knocking the wind out of us.

I remember being a child maybe 6 or 7 and I fell out of a tree. Wham! I stood up unscathed, but I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t scream there was nothing. I walked up the hill to our house arms out stretched, tears streaming down my face looking for my mother to make it all better. That is the feeling of being dumped. Walking around the living, with a silent scream in your chest, feeling like dying would be better if only the pain would stop. Not knowing when your breath will come back or when your heart will start beating again. It’s a death with a shelf life of an undetermined length.

Getting over a dumping is different for everyone. Some wall themselves back up quickly with great bravado and anger. Other’s weep and creep through time waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then still others might bounce back like Tigger at a picnic, those people scare me. My theory is that they are either dead inside already or are secret mourners who on the outside wear a mask so flawlessly unbroken as to never bring attention to their internal pain yet on the inside are as hollow as “normal” people. But be cautious with these humans or you might find your bits in a hefty bag at the bottom of the sea.

Life is pain, its how you know you are alive. If everything came up roses we’d complain about that too. The game of love has winners and losers and it would be nice to think that if you loved someone they would love you back, it seems like the courteous thing to do. Only like us they have free will and even though it hurts right now, there will be a time Jillian, when your breath comes back.

Rebound!

After the poo-storm, which is what I am calling the “set” I “performed” at the Duplex last week, I found myself ready to step back into the light of shame and uncertainty once more to try and make’em laugh. I actually wrote some jokes during my insomnia earlier this week, wrote them down even. Made a set list and guess what? I was funny. Imagine that being prepared actually makes a difference. Kinda like how eating right and exercise cures fat asses. Earth shattering, someone should write a book.

It felt awesome. Re-crafting a joke while you’re telling it is an unbelievable feeling. Riffing in the moment and having the confidence to go with it and KNOW it will be funny in the end even though you’re not sure how you’re gonna get there is better than any opiate. So I’m building on something small. Tiny baby steps outta this 9 to 5 cube and into the life I want.

My mother gave me a very valuable gift, she taught me to believe. Faith was important to her and she tried to instill in me a deeper trust in the universe. While I am not fond of or support organized religion I do believe in having the strength to support others & give encouragement. Helping my precious few stay focused on their life’s journey is my duty as a friend and something I’ve been good at my whole life thanks to my mother's wonderful example.

So now I'm preaching to the choir and using a bit of that fairy dust on myself for a change.

This week so far...

The beginning of the week started badly.

I couldn’t sleep the night before and was so full of PMS that it caused me to cry at work. Which I hate!!! I did it quietly in my cube and I don’t think anyone noticed. Hormones are exactly that, whores, they spin you around emotionally and slap you into wanting to run into traffic. I’m a recovering Catholic with body issues, I’m emotionally abused enough this monthly parade of crazy does not help.

However the thing that pulled me out of this wretched state was a small but oh so big comment from a colleague who popped by my cube to say, “I read your vacation blogs and you are a really good writer.” It made me so happy that I almost didn’t need the afternoon’s dose of Midol, let’s not get crazy I took it and god bless them for making a jumbo bottle.

The universe is constantly reminding me that I am not spending my life in the manner that I should be, what does Oprah say we should be doing? “Living Our Best Life” I have always been a creative soul and spending my days in a cube working at a not for profit, while helping the world indirectly is awesome, it isn’t helping me at all.

I’m definitely writing more, working on jokes trying to get back to where I used to be as performer. It’s not easy, but the unsolicited encouragement is just what I needed. Thanks universe keep it coming!!

Maddow on my mind....

I’ve watched Rachel’s show sporadically until recently while on vacation we watched Countdown & her show religiously. Now I’m addicted. Everywhere I go she’s on some cover of a magazine or like last night she was on Real Time w/ Bill Maher and every time I see her she seems just so real and present. Not show biz at all, which is how I feel the news should be, of course she shares her talking head opinion and that’s fine with me, she’s not anchoring the desk at NBC she’s hosting her show.

But last night Ms. Maddow made an appearance in my dream. Which I am trying to piece together, and I remember saying to myself remember this dream. I think I even tried to take a picture with her and some other “news” type person, a man who could have been Bill Maher but who I can’t recall. However I wasn’t viewed as a “fan” but like I should be there on the bus. Where the bus was going I’m not sure, why we were on this bus who can say? At one point we were sitting at this table with our arms folded and our heads down kind of like playing 7-up at school, but looking at each other and talking. I remember making her laugh and thinking, “Holy crap I just made Maddow laugh.” Finally a lesbian who likes me, but then suddenly she was driving the bus and backing it down this dark driveway and I was “directing” her while trying not to get my face slammed by tree limbs.

It looked like a cul-de-sac from a horror movie. Dark, windy, leaves blowing, no one around. Wisteria Lane meets Nightmare on Elm Street. I turn back to see where everyone is and I slide down a dirt hill and into a mine or cave of some kind and then I think what are we doing looking for Osama? There are military people around and I’m thinking are Rachel and I imbedded in Afghanistan? So of course I make a joke that this is NOT what I meant when I said I wanted to be imbedded with her. She laughs and then introduces me to her girlfriend. Of course story of my life….

But then my subconscious decides to give her a name. Can you believe that, I have no idea what her girlfriend’s name is but I decide it’s Pia. She’s an attractive older woman with a little salt and pepper and I think of course that’s what Rachel’s partner would look like. I can’t wait to find out if I’m even close!! Which I’m sure I’m not…..anyhoo we talk and laugh a bit more and then I wake up. 6am. WTF??

Time Flies....Thank God I have a ticket!!

This time last month I had started my vacation with the BEST Gin & Tonic of my life while celebrating the birth of our nation at the Ragusa/Richter Bungalow in NJ. Followed by fireworks & a swollen baby leg at Susan & Nick’s NYC Condo in the sky!! Where does it all go??? Thank goodness I’m taking the time to smell the roses while I can because you know the shit flows down hill and guess where I live???

The Magic Treehouse...90 days and counting.

After my father passed seven years ago I moved from my Williamsburg loft apartment, which I shared with four other friends, into the city. Officially, my first home on my own. Everything I own in the whole world fits into a studio apartment on the Eastside of Manhattan. It’s not much bigger than most people’s garages, but at the time the rent was $1000 and within my budget, so it became what is now known as The Magic Treehouse.

Everyone who comes to the treehouse says pretty much the same thing, “it’s warm, homey, and I could totally live here.” I love that, I love that my friends feel safe and relaxed in my tiny kingdom. That they look forward to my parties, or just to a night of watching Mad Men or an awards show. I’ve had some really amazing times in my small corner of the world. I’ve also had tremendous heartbreak and loss, within those walls that have stood there since 1901. The good and the bad come and go surrounded by too many ghosts who float through my imagination. How many people have lived there, from when it was a single family home to when it was carved up and made into apartments? How many different lives have played out on that hard wood floor? 108 years is a long time, and no matter what happens seven of them will always belong to me.

My tenure there has come to an end. My lease renewal arrived this weekend to reveal a $350 rent hike for a 2 year contract. What was $1000 has now steadily grown into $1800, so Kayla and I must venture out into the world and find a new space to dwell. As of November first I will be living somewhere else, it’s scary, and I’m not sure what will happen, but change is good. I need a good shaking up; maybe I’ve been too domesticated for too long.

So here’s to the Magic Treehouse, thank you for keeping me safe as the city rushes by, thank you for making an orphan feel like the Queen of her own castle and most of all thank you for being a place people wanted to be.

ps- There will be several good-bye parties so keep your eyes peeled for facebook invites….the old girls gotta go out with a bang!!

My Vacation....by Brandy Rowell

After a spring of non stop events my poor tired Jew’d out body needed a vacation. So I took 10 days and married it to the July 4th holiday, packed up the pooch and went to Knoxville, TN for a little R&R, or so I thought.

An average day at Camp Wells started with reveille at 7:30 each morning. “Brrrraaannnddy,” would trip down the stairs jarring me from my slumber & calling me to a light breakfast. After starting our metabolisms we headed to the YMCA (in the South they still think the C stands for Christ, don’t tell anyone at the 92nd St.Y) where we burned the jelly and prayed for death at least for the first few days. Surprisingly muscle memory does kick in after the pain subsides. We’d come home, wash our bits and have lunch, then set out on the town in search of bargains and groceries.

On Tuesday you get an extra senior citizen 15% off at Kohl’s so we hit them up for bras. I got 9 new bras!!! After my old ones had been through the wringer literally, I had forgotten that a new bra feels like a hug that doesn’t end. Ahhhhhh happy ta-ta’s so good.

On Wednesday afternoons we pillaged Kroger’s on Senior Citizens Day getting an extra 10% off. Plus there were samples everywhere in the store, who needs to buy groceries? You can just eat until you’re full and go home. Plus I was shocked at how cheap everything is; you forget that there are some perks to living in suburbia.

We spent an afternoon at Hammer’s which is southern for Super White Trash Dollar Store. They have everything and anything: jelly in a jar for $1.29, rugs, farm equipment, & marked down clothing. I got 3 Ralph Lauren shirts for work for $2.88 each. Really? Not to mention my, “Got Jesus?” t-shirt, it was $3.88 you know because of the lord, he needed a tithe. Christians are everywhere in the south and it freaks my freak. We passed one church whose message board said, “Got Jesus? Stop, drop and roll won’t help you in hell.” Well I’m glad I got the t-shirt just in case.

In the late afternoons we’d head off to water aerobics at the Fulwider’s pool. For an hour we’d tread water, use water weights and I’d make jokes. Who knew I was even more hilarious partially submerged with a Lycra wedgie.

We also had a lady day to go and have our hair done at Mrs. Karen’s Hair Design, which is a home salon kinda like in Steel Magnolias only on mescaline. Karen wanted to call it Curled Up & Dyed, but the hubby put his foot down against it. Well, Mrs. Karen was a treat, I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun getting my hairs cut and waxed. We laughed so hard I was sure one of us would take a scissor to an ear but we emerged unscathed and beautiful! Truly the best hair cut I’ve ever had….and the comedy I squeezed outta Mrs. Karen is going to make me a star darlin!!!

HAIR CUTS!!!

My favorite lunch time adventure we went to The Golden Girls Restaurant. Seriously this place was in K-Town way before there was a Blanche, Sophia, Rose or Dorothy. This log cabin of a shack which has been there since god was a boy, even though it is their second location, serves a “broasted” chicken, which is the most delicious “fried” chicken I’ve ever had in my young life and I’ve had my fair share of fried chicken just ask Col. Sanders. This was beyond!! Magic god fearing fairies must make this with tiny angelic wings. Plus the giant Velvis (Velvet Painting of Elvis) that greets you isn’t too be missed either.

We also went to Litton's with the Huskey's who I adore and am so glad they got a chance to see me again!!! hahaha

You know you're in the south when there's Mayo on the table next to the Splenda!

Then there was the evening we went out to see the Harding’s new house, dare I say Plantation. An enormous dwelling on the lake, the movie room alone made me want to move in, and I made it clear to them that I was still up for adoption. We took a little journey on the lake in their nifty boat, which suddenly I found myself driving.

I was scared to death but I do answer to Capt. B now, so permission to come abroad is granted!!

Camp Wells Head Counselor Vicki Wells, put together a party for us. Celebrating LB’s casting in Spider Man: Turn Off the Dark coming to Broadway this season. It was a great gathering of K-Town’s finest and we ate and rank ourselves silly. Plus I got a watch, from the amazing Sandy Rea, who also was kind enough to stitch my britches, god bless her heart!

We also pillaged her garden for tasty treats while she was out of town. We actually picked food out of the ground and ate it that very night. Fascinating!!


LB you should really wash that first....

The Wells Women have great glutes!!

Maybe I should try food styling for film & television, that looks good enough to eat.

14 days of Camp Wells seemed to fly by in two. We bought so much clothing, food & toys that we didn’t know if we were going to get it all back in the Ford Focus we drove down. Picking up the return car, Ms. Tammy at the Hertz rental desk was beyond friendly at 7:30am. We told her all about our trip and she suggested that they might have a mid-sized SUV available and would we like to go out and see if it would do. Why yes!! It will do just perfect thank-you Tammy. Did I also mention that Tammy got us the SUV for $63. Yeah that’s right renting a car in NYC is bull-sh*t!!!

Master packer LB stuffed all our crap into our carriage.


And off we went…..back to the Big Old City….
First Shift Navigator....

First Shift Driver....

12hours of open road!!!

At Camp Wells, I got my work out mojo back in swing!! (Thank you Mother Wells, YMCA & Gail’s Water Aerobic Palace) We ate amazing food. Laughed A LOT and I think it all mended my tired spirit. When I got back to work everyone loved the new hair & clothes, but mostly they said I was all lit up inside. Glowing. I’m a little glow worm, thanks for making me glimmer K-Town!! See ya’ll soon! Much love!!!
xoxo