Dear 2016, I win.

Dec 31
2016

Dear 2016,

You think you won. You think you got the better of me. Of all of us.

But you’re wrong. So ppfffftttthhhhh.

You took artistic giants – over and over you took them – but we still float like a butterfly, sing in the purple rain and whisper carelessly. The force – and the Space Oddity – are still with us.

You took our election and gave it to a madman, but passionate, organized fighters still guide us through the darkness as we insist that all humans are created and treated equally.

Be brave. Be heard.

Dec 12
2016

I’m extremely uncomfortable writing this article. I hate confrontation in general and there is nothing more explosive than a political discussion. That’s why most of my life I’ve shied away from talking about presidents and policies. I’m afraid of looking dumb and I don’t like being shouted down.

But I’m ready to be heard. I’m ready to participate even though these discussions are veritable infernos right now. I’m ready to speak up, even if my eyebrows burn off, because it’s the right thing to do.

Because the physical safety and civil rights of my friends and family are being threatened by our president-elect and his proposed team.

Four Words I Never Thought I’d Say

Mar 30
2013

I once covered my concrete cubicle at a soul-crushing job in red construction paper. The fluorescent lights and white walls were emotionally debilitating. The eternal power point presentations defeated me. Office gossip dulled the once-sharp edges of my brain.

Hence the red construction paper. It was a desperate move in self-stimulation.

Although it paid the bills in between acting gigs, after ten years in the corporate world, and this particular company for four, my general life enjoyment was simply shot.

Because My Mommy Said So

May 13
2012

It was the biggest decision of my life and I didn’t want to blow it.

I sat cross-legged on the old yellow carpet in my bedroom, surrounded by college applications. Notes were crammed into every margin available in “The College Book,” the bible for high schoolers looking for general outlines of schools across the nation. My father had taken me on several road trips to visit countless schools, during which I had taken more copious notes. Now the applications lurked around me like a sea of sharks and my notes were kelp to my need for a lifeboat.

Reality By Appointment

Nov 15
2011

Hulking under huge instruments, the cameramen moved like awkward aliens with no social boundaries. They shifted their focus rapidly without regard to personal space, blinding their subjects with large lights. Every time they approached, I attempted to shrink my 5’2” frame into something even smaller. I tried to be as uninteresting as possible. But most of the party guests were speaking loudly, exaggerating their reactions and even seemed to laugh harder – an odd sound to hear at a small charity benefit.

Please Read With Your Eyes Closed

Aug 23
2011

“Turn around.”

It was the ninth false start I had with my student, Julie, for this one-minute drama exercise. After 20 classes with her, I was familiar with her delay tactics. After standing in place for a half a breath, she’d walk to a corner of the room. I’d gently coax her back. She’d hide her face; I’d convince her to drop her hands. She’d spin in circles, I’d get her to stop…all of this took longer than the exercise itself, if she would just get to it.

College Reunions & Problem Buckets

Jun 07
2011

I won’t be traveling 3,000 miles to Saratoga Springs this month to tempt nostalgia at my 20-year college reunion. To think I graduated two decades ago is as perplexing as the fact that skinny jeans and boyfriend blazers with rolled up cuffs are considered fashion-forward again.

Since I won’t be visiting my renovated alma mater, I’ll miss out on clinking martini glasses while reminiscing with former classmates about how much Coors Light out of a keg tasted like stale urine.

An Open Letter To The Goddesses

Mar 13
2011

Dear Natalie and Rachel,

Please be careful. The Mayor Of Sober Valley Lodge may be entertaining and exciting.  He may satisfy your every need in bed before you have coffee in the morning. He may provide a much better lifestyle than the one you had when you were riding the bus to your eight-dollar an hour job. Perhaps he’s even clean now. But please don’t fool yourselves into believing that this self-proclaimed “Warlock” doesn’t abuse women. He does. Despite the fact that the media glosses over his history of domestic violence, it paints a grim picture for the women in his life. Pay attention, Ladies; you could be next.

Temporary Asshole

Jan 25
2011

I told someone off yesterday. Someone I care about and want to keep in my life. But I had been complaining about this person for days and I finally couldn’t take it any longer. I sat down and let my fingers fly on my keyboard. I type 70 words per minute; I was surprised I didn’t start a small fire.

Don’t Blame The Road Runner

Dec 05
2010

The Tazmanian Devil cannot stop child abuse. Neither can Fred Flintstone, Bugs Bunny, Bulwinkle, Calvin nor Hobbes. Not even Wonder Woman can stop child abuse.

Last week a well-intentioned trend made it’s way through Facebook. This was the suggestion:

Change your FB profile picture to a cartoon from your childhood. The goal is to not see a human face on FB til Monday, December 6th. Remember your childhood and join the fight against child abuse. Copy & paste to your status to invite your friends to do the same.