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Just over a month ago, my dream team of New York PA's was reunited to work on Guerilla. Casually the paperwork PA, who I had known through stories of the summer on the Deperted, said that I should come out to LA and work on this job that she had coming up. With no reason to be anywhere as long as I am employed, I said that I'd love to send my info and have her put in a word for me.

Weeks past and I would speak to J.P. casually and then contacted the key PA who was busy working on commercials. More time passes and I talk to both of them regularly. From the way they are presenting details, I feel like the job is already mine but there was no proof, no reality to back up my sense of security.

As long as I didn't have definative plans to skip town, I keep my mouth shut and keep working everyday here in New York. More and more time passed. Then came the moment of panic. I was working on SVU standing outside the actor's trailor's near City Hall. In this moment, I realized that I am booked to work in New York till the end of the first week in March and I have no idea when I may have to be in LA or if I was going at all.

I called the key, who I hope I would be working with because he had been so kind to me over the past few weeks, and took the plunge. I wouldn't normally ask for an AD's phone number. If they say that they'll call, I trust that they are to busy to call if they haven't. And of course, I picked up the phone and called him at the worst possible time. Then for the next few hours we played phone tag and tried to talk in bits because we were both busy at work.

Sitting in front of the New York City Supreme Court House talking with Norman Reedus, my phone start to vibrate in my front jacket pocket. Knowing it was probually the AD, I excused myself and strolled down the court house stairs. A simple conversation was all it took. After all this time, a few questions, many answers, an actual job offer, and an acceptance.

So I AM going to LA for 5 month! Watch out pastey New York skin... you may actually see the sun for awhile.

Man Hunt

"Khsht... If your lucky (forced heavy breaths mixed with static)... you are only a plane ride away."

Sitting in the corner with my walkie clenched against my chest, I could hear screams and laughter coming from the jail cell. Footsteps become louder and louder. My heart races as my body fights to be still.

"I know you are in here." The voice taunts me.

I hear his every breath tingling down my spine as he searches the dark shadows for the slightest movement. I remain paralyzed with anxiety.

As slowly as they came, the echos of the thick soled shoes become fainter.

"Still don't know where I am, do you?" I whisper into the walkie, then bury the speaker into my chest.

"If your lucky....khskt...you are only a plane ride away."

I slide onto my back and crab crawl under the chair and out from beneath the ADA office desk. My elbow bangs the chair, the chair bangs the floor.

Afraid of being found, I freeze. Not a sound can be hear except faint giggles from the jail cell.

I walk on the balls of my feet, lightly pressing each rubber sole to the floor as I clear the side enterance. Exposing myself to the hunter, I cling close to the cell walls moving swiftly through Riker's.

I need to turn the corner to reach the holding cell. Silence. Not a word or living pulse can be heard in the darkness. This last turn could end me. It could be a point blanke martyrdom. Or... it could make me a hero.

I pause a moment and gather my fears. Then thrust myself forward into opening that leads to the cell gate. Freeing my teamates who have grown bored of being held captive behind painted wooden bars, we walk briskly to find new dark corners of the stage to hide in.

The girls team beat the guys that night. Never being able to put all three girls in jail at once. In two hours, I had freed both teamates twice and landed in the holding cell once for hiding in what might have been the most obvious place (under the cold metal bunk beds in Riker)

"Khsht...if your lucky..." You will one day run rampant on an abandoned TV set. Putting your cares aside and feeling the pure emotions and fears of your childhood all over again.

Ludacris

Fact: I may be taller than Chris Bridges, aka Ludacris.

The past few days I have been owrking with Chris on SVU and i am pleasantly surprised by how professional and talented he is. Not exactly a devoted fan, I have heard most of Chris's music out at clubs or on the radio. Lyrically, Ludacris consistantly produces solid and memorable work. And I would argue the same about his newly formulated acting career.

When I heard that the rapper turned actor was bringing his entourage, I was worries that it would be distracting to him or disruptive to set. (As a general rule, few actors bring their "crew" to work. Maybe a visitor or two but nothing imposing). Chris's crew had their own half of an actor's trailer. But, I am telling you... flat out great guys. I never had a problem or complaint from any of Ludacris's people. They had a really laid back vibe while maintaining and "all business" attitude.

Chris is bold with a tough demenour. His talent makes him larger than life. Which is why I was so surprised to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and realize that if I wasn't wearing these heavy work boots, nor was he in Timbs (wardrobe), I may still be slightly taller than him.

Snow Man

The snow started falling in a slow blacket just before dark. Recovering from a long work week, I was justing getting out and about when it started. I went grocery shopping and for a quick jog. By the time I went out for the night, a few inches had piled up and soles of my cowboys boots would slide across patches of packed powder.

My friend, well mentor really, was spinning at a club on the lower eastside. The center of the party was the lovely Frieda, also a business associate whom I admire, celebrating her birthday. Former bosses and co-workers of mine sprinkled the narrow bar, many bringing along friends and girlfriends. I went solo.

Being single for me is an uncurable disease. I meet guys I like, but will never really commit. Part of my problem is that I am not always interested in guys who are interested in me. And even if I was mutually interested, I don't know if I even want to be tied down. I'm far to adventurous for my own good and monotony bores me.

Forty minutes pass and I have given up on finding an open cab. The buses are not running and the snow is more than ankle deep. I realize that I am now going to have to hit the subway, which is by no mean close the my current location.

I head up to Houston still half looking for a cab. As I cross Second Ave., I bump into this guy freezing on the corner. He's wearing a pink button down shirt, a thin sports coat, jeans an loafers...in the SNOW.

"Want to split a cab? I'm going far up..."he said to me. I laugh freezing from under my parka and say "If you can find one I have been looking for 40 minutes."

"What do we do?" he askes out of desperation. "I'm going to the subway" and he followed. I feel like we had a mini-adventure in the cold. My toes where wet and I was miserable...and I was the one wearing a parka. But as it turns out, this guy was very sweet, honest, hard-working, and lives a few blocks from me "far up" town.

The city is a big place and sometimes I wonder how I would even go out finding a suitable guy if I DID want to share my time with some one. Interesting... how sometimes I just need to let them find me.

celebs are people too

The first time I saw a "celebrity" (one of the few to make it big in the media), I fell on my face.

As a freshman in college, I was on my way to a History of the Universe midterm when I did a double take of Mark Wahlberg sauntering up Third Ave. Stuck in a slow-motion stare, I missed the curb and fell to the ground. My binder, books, and papers flew up into the morning creating chaos on ninth street crosswalk.

Four years and several martini's later, I realize it can be overwhelming to see your favorite celeb in real life. But I also know how horrifying it can be to actually meet and work with that same person years later. The pressure of knowing that dirty little secret can be sicking. Not to mention, the fear that by some minute possibility the said "celeb" might remember you for your dramatic display.

So next time a "celeb" is eatting with friends, buying a pair of shoes, or at work walking to set, try to put yourself in their place.

Would you want to be bothered on your only day off, night out with the guys, or after a big scene or full set?

Probually not.

Try to see that actor, singer, socialite as something other than their #1 hit or the character they play on TV, as a person doing their job and living their life. Then you'll realize there is no need to freak out or fall on your face because celebs are people too.

life's like a movie

Celebs, mainly actors, are my co-workers. They as people have needs, schedules, and deadlines just like any other work environment.

In my world, the corner cubicle is traded for a Haddad's trailor. Those who are really "successful" rarely have a chance to breath the air of "normalcy" or have a life not scripted for them.

I work close to 70 hours a week and I work "on set" in old warehouses and dark alleys in Harlem. And yes, as glamorous as this all sounds, actors also work under these grueling conditions (usually with better food, more down time, and a clean space to call their own).

We are all tirelessly chugging along. Then comes that golden moment when the clouds part, the sun shines, and you get to go home to family and friends. Maybe,in that one moment you chose to catch a movie or watch anything on TV. Personally, I choose to nap.

Then the obligations of life kick in: calling mom, paying bills, making sure your closest friends are alive and well. Those precious moments have now disappeared.


Every moment "on set" is lived just for that one moment of life. As an effort to honor and remember those I have worked with (on the average day, I hold concern only for the person standing next to me), I feel the need to keep a running tally of names, a cast list, or maybe just a resume of former co-workers. Because everyday I meet more familiar faces. Everyday it is harder to seperate my one life with the movies we make. And the only thing that keeps me sane is knowing that my name is not on "anyone's" list. These "famous" people who have come and gone in my life most likly don't remember me.

So this all must be real.

Jon Abrahams
Penn Badgley
Lake Bell
Richard Belzer
Victoria Cartagena
Bobby Cannavale
Erica Christensen
Kevin Connelly
Kevin Corrigan
Matt Damon
Leonardo DiCaprio
Benedicio del Toro
Mike Doyle
Ann Dowd
Tiffany Dupont
Corri English
Will Estes
Dennis Farina
Colin Farrell
Jerry Ferrera
Andrew Fiscella
Dann Florek
Tom Fontana
Brittny Gastineau
Lisa Gastineau
Lucas Haas
Birdie M. Hale
Mariska Hargitay
Dustin Hoffman
Yoanna House
Ice-T
Michael Imperioli
Matthew LeBlanc
Vincent Laresca
Judith Light
Ludacris
D.P. Kelly
Audra MacDonald
Christopher Meloni
Joanna Merlin
Radha Mitchell
Matthew Modine
Diane Neal
Edward Norton
OAR
Keke Palmer
Jim Parsons
Ori Pfeffer
Lou Diamond Phillips
Mary Beth Peil
Piper Pirabo(actually I met her at a work related function and went for burritos after)
Ann Parisse
Annie Potts
Denise Quiñones
Norman Reedus
Giovanni Ribisi
Yolanda Ross
Martin Sheen
Sarah Silverman
Joey Sletnick
Mathew St. Patrick
Tamara Tunie
Robert Verdi
Milo Ventimellega
Donnie Wahlberg
Mark Wahlberg
Earnest Waddell
Sam Waterston
Kate Winslet
Ray Winston
B.D. Wong

Resevoir

I hate working out... but I love being thin. But not in the way most women like being thin, to fit into cloths or to compete with the outrages expectations set be movie stars and magazine models. I love the way my body works and how you can see each muscle pulse as you glide down the street. I like to feel that I am not gorging myself with to much food or starving myself either.

And in order to do that, I have pretty much have to face the reality of the need to exercise. I walk ALOT so normally that covers at least a small portion of exercise. But now after the holidays, when I admittedly ate way to many oatmeal raisin cookies and slices of apple stroudel, I need to step it up a bit and actually go running. This is my favorite spot.

Originally uploaded by thrushlistener.
2006-1-18 010

The Central Park Resevoir. There is a cool breeze blowing of the water and a spectacular view. Trust me, it's alot easier to get my tired, over-worked self off the couch knowing that I will be torturing myself at one of New York's treasures.