Archive for October, 2012

What’s Real

Monday, October 22nd, 2012

My husband and I waited all day for the arrival of our imaginary grandchild.  It’s a boy.  His name is Jackson.  He’s quite real.  What’s imaginary is the idea that we are his grandparents.  Jackson was already nine months old and we had yet to meet him.  That’s because our surrogate child lives in Northern California and we haven’t been up there since the birth, and she hasn’t been here.  A brief explanation of Jackson’s mom, Tory.  When my daughter Augie started second grade, I spotted this tiny, adorable student in her class.  She looked dazed and confused, kind of lost.  I asked Augie about her and she told me that Tory was new at school.  I said, “Let’s bring her home.”  So, we did.  And she stayed, occasionally for months at a time.  The chaos in her own home made it appear that our family was functional.  Everything’s relative.  Secretly, I liked that she thought we were “normal.”  We got so much more out of the deal.  Tory was a real find.

Now, many years later, I texted Tory, though I was concerned she was on the road and might glance at her phone while driving.  But it’s Tory, more adult than any of us, even at thirteen.  She had to be.  I get texted right back.  Oh, did you think it was today I was coming down?  It’s tomorrow, and then I have to leave the following day.  I walked into my husband’s home office.  “I got the day wrong.  There’s a movie in Santa Monica, want to see it?” (more…)


Saturday, October 13th, 2012

I know exactly how many times I have stolen and what I have stolen and I’m not proud.  The two times, as a kid, I took from places like Newberry’s and Orbach’s, and both times caught, were a great lesson.  So, I would never do that again.  Stealing towels from hotels with my father was a given, and I stopped that a very long time ago.  I could and would also steal ashtrays, usually for my dad, from a restaurant in Europe maybe.

I’ve known some kleptos in my life.  Some real ones.

It scared me when I was stolen from.  Personally stolen from.  When I was 15-years old and lying in my bed in a mono-induced near-coma, a friend darted around my bedroom.  I followed her with my eyes because I couldn’t even lift my head, that’s how ill I was.  She touched everything in my room, holding her notebook and schoolbooks in her hand.  There was no reason to be holding all of that, as she had just arrived to visit me.  Something seemed so shady about this visit.  This friend would walk all around me, from one side of the room to the other, and would touch some items like my Indian print, one-of-a-kind dress.  Suddenly it was folded and put in between her books.  I had witnessed the abduction of my favorite dress!  Too shocked to say anything, I let her leave.  With the only strength I had, I reached over to turn my radio back on.  Peggy Lee’s “Is that all there is?” played over and over and over as I remained a hostage in my Rip Van Winkle state.  I never confronted her.

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When the Circus Came to Town

Tuesday, October 2nd, 2012

My agents called to check my availability for a few days in November.  Shouldn’t they know?  Yes, I was available.  Apparently, a director I had once worked for, Walter Topel, was shooting a Hallmark commercial in Chicago.  That’s where he lived and worked.  No auditions necessary.  He knew he wanted me.

First call I made was to my friend Paul who was in college at Northwestern.  This will be fun, I thought — Paul and I can hang out in Chicago.   He said he wasn’t going to be in town but that I should call his roommates.  He said he knew we would all like each other.

As soon as I got to the hotel, I called Paul’s friends.  They invited me over.  But once I was there, I got the sense that they were judging me and decided they wanted nothing to do with me.  They had already written the story.  To them, I was a spoiled rich Beverly Hills brat who now had a commercial acting career.  They thought they were better.  But they were truly wicked.  Fucking with me.  I left there bewildered.  I had never been treated like that because I’m so friendly, I can disarm anyone.  I’m a really regular person.  I was never some spoiled kid from Beverly Hills.   Didn’t they know I lived south of Wilshire, the wrong side of the tracks? (more…)