It’s my best friend’s birthday. See how many things change in a year? I teach my students about the rule of 180. All three angles, every last line. Life’s gonna flip you, kiddos. There’s no use resisting. We’re talking about geometry.
We’re different people, she and I. I’m more prone to declarations, effusiveness. Heart on your sleeve? Don’t make me laugh. I wear my heart smeared on my face; I’ve got to bite down on my lips to keep it from leaking out of my mouth.
There are different ways to say, “I love you.” I’ll tell everyone who will listen, scrawl it on every solid surface. But she once came over and dried dishes for four hours while I washed. You want to know what love is? It’s a month of dirty dishes, a whole afternoon. It’s the sandwiches after, laughing. Running out of stories and standing together, quietly in that clean kitchen, waiting for the laundry to dry.
A year ago today I got my heart broken.
It didn’t take too long. It happened quickly. A few key sentences delivered over an hour-long conversation. He told me one of the big problems was my height. It was emasculating. Sometimes he could forget about it, he told me, if he was looking at me from far away. He liked looking at me. But then he would touch me and the truth would reveal itself. 5’11” in my barest feet. There were inches between us. He liked looking at me, but not touching me. My broken heart cursed my bones.
Afterwards, we went to Chipotle for lunch. He paid. I cried. I tried to stop crying to eat. It didn’t work. I just kept crying. He said: Do you think you’re doing this because subconsciously, you know it turns me on? I said: What? Then I said: Ugh. He said: You’re a woman in despair. My body wants to take care of your body. I can’t help it.
I stopped crying, then. I ate my burrito bowl. When I got home, I looked in the mirror and thanked God and the Vikings for my huge, beautiful bones.
So, uh, elephant in the room. This was clearly not my guy.
But I’d seen it, y’know? I’d seen it. I’d seen what was coming, and what was coming was good. I was sick with infatuation. I couldn’t sleep. On our dates, I had trouble eating. I clung to every sliver of kindness, sat through movie after movie, holding my breath. Because in my gut, I knew. Knew.
I’m not like that now. The crystal ball inside my head broke. I can’t see the future. I don’t even try.
Earlier that day, we’d been writing together. He said: You’re not getting to the core of it, yet. You’re brilliant but you’re not there yet. He said: Let’s do a little improv. I’m gonna throw some different tactics at you. But no matter what I say, you have to respond with the same line.
What is it? I asked.
He said: All you’re allowed to say is, “Why didn’t you love me?”
I’m working on a poem that’s going to be incorporated into Valentina’s wedding and it’s killing me the way the good work kills me. I want it to be perfect. Words for the girl who is the closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister. The one who grew me up. The girl who heard every story first.
I want it to be deep and joyous and maybe a little funny and also sharp. Smart. With just enough bite. This is not a toothless marriage. These are tigers slinking down the aisle.
There are different ways to say, “I love you.” My girl is not getting married with some poem that just anyone could get married to. Not if I can help it.
Today’s the kind of day that makes me think I might be onto something. A long, early solo hike. Crepes Poulet and ten cups of tea with Eva at Figaro. Re-buying The Girl in the Flammable Skirt at Skylight, seeing my little book in the rack, only one copy left, a wrinkle on the front from a stranger flipping through. BBQ with the Brevitians including my darling Claudia. Pizza on the front stoop with Taylor as the cold came out. A long shower and Mad Men and then writing, reading. The not-lost furball purrballed up on my chest. Feeling so lucky I could burst.
And then another day tomorrow. Work. Writing with Nameless Joe. The Fire Room. Rehearsal lights my heart right up. I’m going to take picture after picture. Those bodies in motion. Is there anything I’d change? Sometimes I’m not sure.
There’s a lot I don’t have but there are some things I do. There are a lot of ways to say, “Why didn’t you love me?” There are more ways to say, “I love you.”
I wrote this! You should see it. The end. <3
Reflection: First Quarter 2013
So it’s Easter, and that seems as good a time as any to take a moment to reflect. My heart’s been learning lessons. I should be writing them down.
2013 thus far:
I wrote The Fire Room, which is probably my favorite thing I’ve ever written. It went up at El Cid as a radio play, and is currently rehearsing to go up at the Hollywood Fringe through Fugitive Kind.
I contributed pages to The Miss Julie Dream Play Project, which is also going up at the Hollywood Fringe.
Joe and I wrote a half-hour comedy pilot called Necromancers, and shot the first five minutes as part of our NYTVF submission.
Twenty-Six was published by Naissance Press (who I would highly recommend for both speed and quality), and currently has copies at Vroman’s, Skylight, and Stories. Dropped off a copy at City Lights yesterday, will hear back in a few days if they want to stock it. (Which would be… amazing.)
I finished writing out a story (Just Ours) that had been simmering for months. Submitted it to a few places. Pleased.
Started writing a second pilot with Joe (though I’ve been insanely behind on it… JOE IF YOU’RE READING THIS I’M SORRY DON’T KILL ME).
I almost met my writing goals for the first three months. So close. Will catch up in the next week and get back on perfect track. Trying to whip up my Princess Grace application for tomorrow’s deadline.
So much general goodness. Archer: Live with Joe and his roommate. Operation Better Bar #1 at the One-Eyed Gypsy. Vacation club trip to Big Bear. Tubing with Elizabeth. Spending hours in the hot tub. “Sexting” each other and playing pool in the basement and laughing until my stomach hurt. The Color Run (and ensuing backyard pizza party) with Liz, Mindo, and Joe. That perfect Fire Room night at El Cid. My mama’s Valentine’s Day visit. Fabric stores and Silver Linings Playbook and Disneyland. Twenty million hikes. Drinks and a picnic and dinner and my first time at the drive-in. Party for Benji’s first official 1600 Penn episode, playing with shiny wedding things afterwards with Madeline. St. Patrick’s day insanity with Vacation Club.
Two perfect staycations. Reynaldi’s L.A. visit, which included the Edison, Pete’s, a day trip to Santa Barbara, a super fancy garden party, a taco picnic in the backyard, and the Magic Castle. Liz’s San Francisco visit, which included North Beach, City Lights, Irish Coffees at the Buena Vista, the Japanese tea gardens, Bourbon and Branch, and one of the most delicious dinners in recent memory. Too many good conversations to count. Brunches and cocktails and coffees and lunches. Big heart eyes, always.
There’s a little BrevityTV golden age happening at the writers table. I’m kind of obsessed with everybody. I’ve been slacking on the work itself, but the group dynamic is kind of the best. At our last meeting, I brought beer and Deron bought cake and everyone bought copies of Twenty-Six and had me sign them. It was embarrassing and also very sweet. Love love love.
I’ve been teaching online only (amazing, amazing difference that makes), and working a few freelance writing gigs. Employment is ideal. Time to write + complete locational flexibility + adventure money = I’ll take it.
It hasn’t all been perfect sugar goo. There’ve been some tough pills to swallow. Realizations of powerlessness and the necessity for surrender. Inner tantrums that mortify me as soon as they’ve passed. Progress is coming, and it’s noisy. I’m kicking and screaming. But: it’s worth it. Building a better human. Being more, being better. Working at it, always. To quote a friend: “Being a person is harder than it should be.”
But overall: This is a good year. April brings New York City for Benji and Madeline’s wedding. May is San Francisco for Valentina’s wedding. June is Istanbul and Greece with Elizabeth’s for Valentina’s (take two), and The Fire Room. This is Happening Now comes out in the summer. There’s a lot to look forward to. I’m looking forward to it. <3
my girl her lips are clocks and her heart is a big black box
Oh I do miss those catch-up entries. So: Here we go.
1. The Fire Room was perfect. My god. Felt like the luckiest. Running around in a too-teeny dress and squeezing those I love to squeeze the most. El Cid all list up. Sitting right up in front. That beautiful work. Everybody’s everything paying off. There’s nothing to say but that was a night I’m never going to forget, that might just have been my very Best.
2. Mama came for the show and we were Valentines. Spent the day trolling fabric stores and eating designer hot dogs. Saw Silver Linings Playbook and cried like goofy monsters. Dinner afterwards at Public House. Ice cream and giggling late into the night.
3. Then: Disneyland. Disneyland, I am tired of you, but my mother loves you and so we go. Fun was had by all, including the 7,000,000 noisy humans who were there starting their three-day weekends early.
4. Shot the first five minutes of Necromancer and I am pleased. Nameless Joe and I keep type type typing away. Cross your fingers for us, friends.
5. Trochilidae is next on this list. Who wants to read?
6. Happy camper. No complaints. Knocking off my knock-offs and embracing my clean sink. Everybody’s back in town and I’m ready to curl up and settle down.
The Clanging of Crystal
Here we are again, a beautiful new year. <3
Fantastic Mr. Fox / Monster
I had a whole thing planned out but now it just seems stupid. Let a girl just write her heart out. C’mon.
The only way this thing is going to work is if I just write what I want. So that’s what I’m going to do. I spent a stupid amount of time this morning making a plan and thinking about “branding” and how I need to really commit to having some sort of bloggy online platform and maybe it should be about theater or maybe it should be about writing or maybe it should be about art in general or maybe it should be oh give me a break.
I like reading and writing true things. So my personal Holidailies (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Blog) goal is to just make this a place where I throw down some true things. AND SO.
Just do what I want to do. Little steps little pieces. Snap/crack.
Buried in This is Happening Now edits. I can’t quite seem to get Ophelia right and it’s driving me nuts. I’m spending too much time digging and redigging and I feel like the more I chop the worse it’s getting. Hopefully it’s all going to come together like a big slashed up puzzle in a few days. I’m so excited to have a real live hold-it-in-your-hand play published that I want it to be perfect. Realizing this is an impossibility. Realizing that perfect work is a myth. Realizing that I’m going to keep striving for it anyway. Do you realize?
Too many projects, not enough time. Enough time, though. Taking the time. Enjoying it. Needing to clean, needing to catch up, needing to stretch, needing to write, needing to edit, needing to eat, needing to shop. It’s incredibly to me that anyone ever gets anything done. So many needs! And this is me with one mouth to feed and a job that gives me ample time to wander aimlessly through my house.
Back to work now. You are incredible and kind and thank you. Smooch smooch.
How did this year just go go go?
I’m doing Holidailies (weekdays only edition). Starting right now. Sorry I’m not sorry, everybody. But I miss blogging and writing it out helps clear my head and seriously, it’s kind of dumb to be a writer in 2012 and not have any sort of online chatty presence. AND SO. WE BLOG.
November was great and focused and something I’m proud of. I’m pretty pleased by the fact that this lost year turned itself around. As I am prone to sappy end-of-the-year thoughts, I’ll assume that I’ll hit that shenanigans later and just cover November proper today.
* Indian Market, museuming, flatbread and sarsaparilla at the Autry with Elizabeth thanks to Susan’s amazing hookups! ;)
* Yummy sushi and Book of Mormon with Eva and John
* Election night pizza and beer and crying and hand-holding with Mercy
* Karyn and I seeing a crow try and commit suicide (we’re pretty sure)
* Perfect cuddly rainy weather
* Claudia’s housewarming party
* Hike with Benji and Madeline
* Creation at Boston Court with Elizabeth and Merce
* Fell Swoop Kick-Off Party at Red Rock
* Long lovely tea and chat with Susan at Figaro
* Booking tickets to NYC with Karyn for April!
* Brunch with Liz
* Wedding errands with Madeline
* Obsession with the perfection of the now-complete Brevity writers table
* Home for Thanksgiving! Mexican food with the family, then meeting up with THE AMAZING QUARTET for not-pie and pie. Always perfect. Pick it up right where we left off.
* Seeing movies with my mama
* Long perfect dinner with Rachel Clee
* Perfect drinks with Valentina Conde
* Perfect El Super Burrito with my dad
* Perfect hilarious night out with Solomon, Tane, Carter, and company
* Home is sometimes perfection
* LA rainy day spent curled up in Pat Burns’ house working on our musical. I could listen to that man play the piano for days.
* Hilarious and bizarre night out with Taylor at 4100
But November was really about the work. I’m finally writing again in a real, useful way. Progress is being made. I ate better and sang better and lived better and exercised with Karyn at least four days a week. Hiking and running and Couch-to-5k-ing. Making art go.
So I’m proud of this month. Ready to move onwards and upwards. Go team go.
You know that trick where you take a girl’s bra off, like magic? YOU’VE NEVER SEEN IT QUITE LIKE THIS.
Check out the latest from BrevityTV.com! Directed by me, Produced by Cole Taylor, written by Joe Kausch, shot by Eduardo Calderan Quintino, edited by Michael Ahrens, featuring the acting talent of Claudia Perea, Mark Forbes Harley, Jason Bonduris, and Michelle Halterman. Many bras were harmed in the making of this film.
(Seriously, this one is one of my favorites. Give it a look and a star and a comment! Don’t let those poor bras die in vain.)
October is my favorite month, and this year’s was no exception… <3
October 2012 Highlights:
Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios with Joe, Karyn, and Ryan Izay, who I hadn’t seen in far too long. Terrifying and spooky and super-fun. Great to see Karyn’s perfect lighting work in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre maze!
Attended the Best Fall Party Ever, hosted by Karyn. Best food, best company. Felt like the luckiest lady to know such incredible people. I made a cheesecake!
…And there was pumpkin carving! Mercy carved mine for me, because I have the attention span of an 8 year old. Wonder Woman FTW.
Directed Golden Contrivance for BrevityTV, which basically consisted of me hanging out with a bunch of people I really like in a bathroom for five hours. Whee!
Took my sweet kitty to the emergency vet due to him being a wussy badass, who ripped two of his claws out while chasing a stray intruder-cat.
He got cone-of-shamed.
But now he’s fine.
The Haunted Hayride with Eva and John. Super-amazing opening sequence, hilariously distressing maze, psychics and a side show act and a backwards carousel with skeleton horses. Perfect weird windy weather. Whoosh.
Downtown Flower Market and Muskatels trip with Karyn and Susan. Because sometimes? You just need to buy some motherfucking decorative gourds, motherfuckers.
After, we had the most amazing lunch ever at Cafe Figaro. Nom.
Final centerpiece result:
Awesome debate-watching / swimming / dinner / play-reading night with Merce. Super fun. One to remember. <3
Oktoberfest with Dave and friends. There was a German Andy Warhol, a ridiculous band, plates of potato-based amazingness, and the most impressive rendition of “99 Red Balloons” I’ve ever seen.
Dia de los Muertos at Hollywood Forever Cemetery with Eva and Jia-Meng! Perfect day. SO MANY PICTURES. My favorites:
Two readings (and, uh, the writing) of the new play. Excited about this one. Thankful to have such talented, supportive friends. First reading took place in my living room with Karyn, Merce, Susan, Jan, and Boston. Second was with Fell Swoop with Taylor, Karyn, Brian, Jayce, and Joel. So helpful.
Plus, I made some scary Halloween pictures on Picmonkey. Photoshop for people who don’t know how to use Photoshop. Sign me up.
You’re a slutty pumpkin. Or a slutty firework. Or a slutty deck of cards. Or a slutty quarter! How about a slutty tube of Chapstick? Yeah, sorry. This one’s a no-no. We like cute, we like clever, but we don’t like feeling dirty when we realize that you’re dressed as a hot refridgerator… and that we’re kinda into it.Fun little Halloween piece I wrote for Tibi Tonic.
Check it out here!
The Royal Tenenbaums / Love Lockdown
This is the best tumblr ever.
Sylvia Plath’s journal entry on Virginia Woolf.
I can hardly believe that the Big Ones get rejected, too!
I suppose I’ll always be over-vulnerable, slightly paranoid.
1. It’s fall it’s fall it’s fall it’s fall it’s fall and I’m so happy. Curled up in a sweatshirt on the couch. Spaghetti dinner. Mist in the morning. Bring it bring it. I’m tired of the sun and I’m ready for this season of death, ready to watch the year come to a close. Pause and begin again. Exhale, see your breath.
2. The big news, the news that churns my heart: This is Happening Now is going to be published. It’s going to be a real book you can buy. My name on the pages. I’ve got an editor and a small advance and a contract to sign. I might not love anything as much as I love books and now I have one of my very own.
And I’m so glad that this is the first one. Everybody’s name in the credits. Our little pink hearts in that little black box. That one moment that made me cry every night. Merce’s monologue of my favorite dream. The light on her just perfect. And it was always this moment for the three of us. My words and Merce’s voice and Karyn’s lights. I want to be a goat turning into a bird. I want to be a goat turning into a bird. I want to be different fron the way that I am.
3. I’m taking the rest of the year off.
Not totally, of course. I’m gonna teach a couple of classes. Keep a student or two. But for the most part: I’m done.
I can’t give all my time to something that stifles me. I sound like an asshole, but it’s true. I’ve got to glow brighter. I can’t just keep sitting in the dark wondering why I can’t see.
I have savings. It’s time to use them. Money in the bank from a year and a half ago… I’d like to think that I’ve been saving it for this moment. These months where I’m not overwhelmed with sadness, not overwhelmed with loss. These months where I’ve got stories ready. These months where the only thing I need is time.
So there we go. I’m going to live cheaply. Be frugal. Teach reasonably. Eat sensibly. Exercise regularly.
And I’m gonna write like a motherfucker.
4. Jim Gavin’s Bermuda, featured in this month’s Zoetrope, is a stunner. The kind of LA I live in.
Their squalor was carefree and strategic. The bong-water stains on the carpet, the mangled torchieres in the corner, the crumpled bags of Del Taco—all these elements helped them appear frail, lovable, and human, when in fact they were members of a band.
It was a happy time and I couldn’t wait for it to end.
5. Karyn and I have still been climbing in circles at least twice a week. Up up up those dust hills. I still have to stop, but I’m getting better. I can feel it in my legs.