Out with the Old

Out with the Old
Originally uploaded by Unbridled Expression (tm).

Yippie!!

Oh such words to live by!

2006 was such a crappy year for so many of us - going down as "one of the worst years on record", but the good news is that I'm up and slowly begining to run again, and for the first days of 2007, I intend to have my football helmet on - ready to take the next 365 days head on!!

All the best!
ox

stroll down memory lane via bell telephone

That was fun - lots of fun.
Just spent the last 4 hours on the phone with a dear old friend of mine from high school.

And we laughed and laughed

and talked about all kinds of crazy things, tried to assemble the pieces of adolescent pubescent angst from the wisdom that we had gathered through age and wisdom

it was like a summer had gone by - each went to our own summer vacation, and were back again catching up.

I think that is the mark of a true friendship - you never miss a beat and start up again where you left off.

thnx T

You made me happy to remember those times - and we had many many good ones.

I could have made a lot of money on this bet...

I'm killing myself over this thing.

If I had bet my best girlfriend money over the fact that I knew her man would propose to her this time last year, I would have been a very rich woman right now.


Remember that dream I had - about the hijab?

Well, he proposed to her tonight.

i guess I will have to wear a hijab when we marry

the notorious batchelor dropped to his knees tonight and I freaked out


those were her words


I flipped!!

And I called it - this month last year! I have to find it cause I think I actually documented it in my blog.

It always happens this way - i can run around predicting other people's lives and how shit is going to pan out, but when it comes to me and my life? I'm as lost as a toddler in Disney World.


has anybody seen my future???!!!


Lucky bitch
but I love her still

when taken for a long time or in large doses, but it may cause politics

good advice from spammers:
when taken for a long time or in large doses, but it may cause politics


be hungry.
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CONDITIONS WILL REMAIN POOR THROUGH THE EVENING.
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Look nice

your man as a muslim cleric...

this was one for the record dream books.

a letter to a friend before i run off for some xmas tryptophan and eggnog...

A,
I just had the most fucken bizarre dream.
This is one of those I had to write down...

We were out somewhere - summer night, you, me Hali and some other girl, walking up some streets near your place. There was this girl on the side of the street, lying in those little patches of grass in front of a house. She was moaning and was pregnant. There was a car nearby (our car?) and we rushed over. Turns out she was in labour and was having the baby.

You called to me and Hali to get the 'supplies" out of the car. We dashed over with gigantic pads the size of a body builder's arms and some blankets. You stood there , hunched over her with a baby hanging upside down by it's legs - "already done! That was easy!" took it, wrapped it in a depends and off we went to the hospital. I gave the woman a depends, she gushed blood, felt faint but we managed to put her in the car..

flash forward to some sort of funky loft/lounge where everything looked like a dark and brooding ikea. Kelly green walls and white mouldings with minimal recessed ceiling lights. Everybody was young - 18-22. We walked in like we owned the place and spoke of things 80's. I gave some advice - "if you like coldplay, you gotta listen to Heaven 17. Japan with David sylvian was also cool". These people (and some really hot young boys) hung on our every word. They vigilantly took notes and hummed and hawed in deep interest. Some music was put on and we showed them how to dance. We were the belles of the ball.

We left in some sort of convertible (in and through the house) and everybody waved and talked among themselves about how cool we were.

Flash forward to your place - 2nd floor.

The stairs were straight and came directly down from the top to the bottom floor. It was dark and lots of deep blue in the rooms. One room was the baby's room - filled to the rafters with pampers, baby wipes, and other baby toiletries. You were somewhere talking to p as I examined the 75 different types of diaper absorbency (low flow, wings, no wings, nighttime, afternoon...) You came back upstairs - really upset - said p didn't understand your 'mission' (apparently birthing babies from women who didn't get to make it to the hospital) and wanted you to be more 'traditional' - not show your legs and wear the hijab. !! You shared your displeasure with me as you packed your 'nanny to go' ditty bag. You went downstairs again and heard the two of you talking in farsi - you saying little - "ehkhla", "fkhalla" angrily and forcefully as he lahlahlahed on and on. You stormed out of the house with your bag and left me alone. The house fell silent.

I ended up on the outside - and despite the fact that there was ice on the lines and telephone poles, it was really warm. I had to come back in - but this time, had to swing from the telephone pole, and slide 007 style across the clothesline, break the ice and climb up a gym rope to get back into your upstairs. I was upset that you had left without me - and I sat in a sea of uber thick baby wipes and sulked - feeling left out and unimportant.

how fucked is that!?
And from what I could see of p, he was wearing those silly Aldan shoes, a long flowing robe and looked like someone from the Hobbit, but had an overgrown goatee and mammoth sideburns..

weird.

Are you planning to get a hijab girlfriend?
off to my mom's - call you later bella - oxoxox

word count...

I'm doing a quick scan over the amount I've put down here on blogger over the past two years.

Fuck.

That is a lot of writing!!!

I'm afraid to even begin to count!!


Any bets as to how many pages this would come out to ?

xmas schmexmas

I'm still up after going against my better judgment and having that extra cup of java at 9pm.

and now I'm up and wide awake

I'm feeling a little bleh, perhaps it's lack of sleep, lack of mental stimulation today (had to go to church and was subjected to a priest who just loves to hear himself talk - this time about bread... don't ask) and too much incense. There was so much of that shit in the air, I was surprised that no smoke alarm went off.

There was a serious amount of smoke.
and it stank like you would not believe!

I am running out of coherent adjectives to describe the stench, but it was enough to make me dry heave at the back of the church. I had to go outside to clear my lungs. It was seriously gross.

so now I clackety clack by myself in my front room, making not very much sense, wishing I could call up somebody and just start to spew random rantings.

Feeling pretty crappy.
Not too sure about my photography shit either.
is it good? Is it publishing worthy?

I mean, obviously it is because it has been - right?

ahh.
Late night rantings.


*******
For my new year's resolutions, I promised myself that I would
a) join a gym
b) join a dance class (there is a cool tango place - and upstairs is a hip-hop school)
c) have my writings published in least two magazines
d) have at least 1 solo show in Montreal
e) work on my documentary - start the damm thing by myself and not wait for anybody to help me (or give me the startup funds I need to get it off the ground - can you say - max out all your credit cards ?)
f) some other things I wrote on my palmpilot but have now forgotten
(oh yea, get all my shit together and start that book I have been talking about)

and maybe g) - start another play to leave SALC behind, and make this one my own baby - no co-writers involved (and if I do decide to have one come on board - sign a contract to make things clear)


I have a lot on my plate, but I'm hoping that I'll find the strength somewhere to muster it up when I need it.

A vacation to cuba would be nice...

the accident of my being a photographer...

And if a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it's as though I've neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up. I know that the accident of my being a photographer has made my life possible.


Richard Avedon, 1970



yes.
Accident indeed.


Thank you Mr. Avedon.
you've manged to lift the veil of confusion from the purpose of my life.

blast from the past and other reasons for holiday cheer...

I'm off today

And I'll be off until the 3rd of January!!
YEA!

no more work - thank GOD!
I was reaching my saturation point - the moment I'd step foot into the elevator and begin my ascent into office chaos, stomach acid would begin to bubble up my throat.

It's all quiet on the gastrointestinal front this morning.

I've been given some herbal remedy from my accupuncture dude - it's odd - looks and smells like Shake n' Bake. I'm going to give it a shot - and must give it a chance. Despite my inital doubt as to the validity of chinese medicine, I must say that it's worked wonders so far. Without it, I can honestly say that I don't beleive I would be here typing now, but rather somewhere in a hospital wearing my holiday themed straight jacket.

He also told me that it's going to taste bitter.

if it works...


Good news - mom's scan came back negative for any new cancers.

We are all releived!
And grandma is coming home for xmas!

this all sounds like it has the makings of a Hallmark Xmas tv special

and it's all good.



we're getting her a digital camera (mom) - she must have more than 50 rolls of undeveloped film lying around the house - this way it's just a 'point and click' to instant photos. I think she'll get a kick out of it.


I had the best pre-xmas surprise the other day!
One of my long lost high school partners in crime found me and sent me a wonderful email - bringing back wonderful memories of the good times we shared in those 'wonder years' of our teenage youth. He is doing very well in the mid-put not so mid west and is quite the socialite; but he has not changed. Still the crazy brilliant dude that was such a big part of my life back then. It's been a joy emailing him and can't wait to yak on the phone the way we used to.

Some friendships really stand the test of time - the best ones are those who have no age. You can pick up where you left off without missing a beat. I know that is what I've been needing for a while. Good old friendship soup for the soul.

I'm hoping that 2007 will be the start of something big and better than the shit that has been shoveled in my direction this year.

so far (knock on wood) so good.

I'm going to commemorate the ending of one play and begining of another by starting a new work on the same day I began Sex and La Cité. It's going to be my closure and opening of a new chapter/act/scene/ in my so called life as a seinfeld episode called life...


All the best during this holiday season!!

xo

countdown

So mom is having her scan as I type this.
We are both nervous as hell


Aside from the last time (the firs time when she had the scan to see if the cancer had spread to her lymph nodes) we waited on pins and needles for days. What a releif it was to know that it had'nt spread.

This time, the doctor has specifically sent her to see what's going on with her liver.

what if the cancer has spread to the liver?

I don't even want to think about that.

God.
I am praying so hard right now for a happy and cancer free xmas...

Waiting

Monday, mom is going for her PET scan.
She's had a fever for more than two weeks. Last week it began to show up during the day.

The doctor told her to come in Wedensday
that's when they will get the results of the scan

My mom is worried that the cancer has spread to her liver.

I am freaking out.

I know that there is nothing we can do about it at this point, except worry, and to worry doesn't accomplish anything, but I still do.


Because she is my mom, because she means the world to me, because she has always been there, because it kills me to see her so sick and weak,

because this can kill her


The old folks home where my grandmother is staying has an outbreak of c-difficile

We were hoping to have her come home for xmas - that one day so we can all spend it together like the wonderful little family we are.

But it looks like she might be quarantined for God knows how long...

And my play - in a week, it will be two years ago that I began SALC. If I knew what I know know about what was going to happen, and how I would be stabbed in the back like this, yes - I would have thought twice about taking on this play...

do do sphere

More ramblin...


Anything that John offers will benefit you.
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this seems to be a huge resource covering lots of different areas.
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Plus he'll have to deal with ball-hawking corner Charles Tillman.
studio fifty-fifty
housetop and I saw him, and, When they may kill the country of
This applies to their privatelives where they must account to themselves, and to
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Your Daily Meditation - Women with High Self Esteem Do This
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no proof
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syndication
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and no wonder that even the great Bill Gates lost his self confidence.
Your Daily Meditation - Arguments with Friends
Since I never use this utility, I can't be of much help
Have emission
Be is string

c is for crazy, c is for chernobyl

I had a full blown - albeit short and swift meltdown last night - and it brought back too many memories of when my core reactor would slowly heat up, alarms sound, people around would panic, terrified and then, once past the point of no-recovery cooling, I'd morph into raidoactive toxic rage.

Imagine taking a spoonfull of scalding hot soup.
Close your mouth around the spoon and wait.
Wait until the pain begins to travel through the first layer of skin.
Wait for the electric shock of copper wire to scrape the roof of your mouth -

but don't open your mouth...

now, open your mouth.

Everything that you've kept in, plus the extra saliva that was created by desperate glands to quell the flames, peices of vegatables, noodles - all come rushing out - projectile style.

that was me last night.

too much in my little old lady change purse - the geanology of paranoia expanded too fast for me, and was not able to accuratley map it through logic or reason.

All of it - my mom's fever (chemo+fever < healthy immune system + c-dificile = dire complications)
My play and the little bit of glory I had being credited as "the writer" before that &%*# stole it, blindsided by rage arid and icy desperation seeping up through my toes to my spine -
it all hit the sparkplug waiting to be charged

and it did.


I felt the energy come - the superhuman strength, vibratations crawling from underneath my eyelids. Without any awareness other than my ability to just watch and fear, the house became spiderwebs through which I had to claw at to exit.

thank god I was too tired and in too much pain to even try...

a sequel to a saga spoofing the re-runs of a series...

This farce is never-ending.

(and in my defense, for anybody reading this blog who happens to just stumble upont his post without reading the back story, you might have to do some research. These women were KNOWN in the acting circles as cut throat witches, and somebody had told me after the fact: You were warned)

My life has gone from crazy bizarre seinfeld-esque coincidences, absurd happenings, was transformed into a "sex and la Cite" success, but has taken a turn "As the World Turns"...

I'm just so outraged by all of this stupidity - that my one glory moment is being hogged by two women who are so notoriety hungry - that they are willing to stab me in the back to get it.

I know - wake up - this is reality

No wonder the ice-caps are melting in the North Pole - nobody gives a flying fuck about what they do or who they do it to!!!

But I environmentally digress.

So the shit - all of it from the top guys... a sequel to a saga spoofing the re-runs of a series... a play by - you know who...


It all starts here...

ACT 1

The glorious gleanings of this story began when I sent out my cattle call group email to everybody because my photo was on the cover of a new magazine. I was elated, and wanted to share my joy with everybody (because so many of my friends except a few) have been my tireless cheerleaders and are rooting for me, every wonderful baby step I make in realizing my dreams.

Imagine if you could, the following: -

a brief email stating that my photo was on a magazine cover
- the attached scanned cover of the magazine
- thanks for support and positive vibes from all who cared.

Then imagine this:
Upon receiving many congratulatory emails on my oeuvre, I get this..

Wow, good for you girl. Awesome.
Not to rain, but I don't know if you heard that SALC will be playing at the Centaur in January. It would be nice to get together some time. Not that I have much, but maybe or an hour or two after a band practice which is near your place. I leave it up to you.

ciao bella, p

To translate:
Not to rain,(1) but I don't know if you heard(2) that SALC will be playing at the Centaur in January.(3)

1.Don't mean to take the wind out of your sails, don't mean to rain on your parade, hate to burst your bubble What do all of these phrases mean? YES, you do mean to burst my only bubble, take the wind out of my skimpy sails, and turn into a hurricane at my shiner’s parade!! DUH! Because if you didn't, you would not say anything!

2. I don't know if you heard...
I guess you might not have heard, but if you did, don't be mad at me because I didn't tell you first - or - just in case you hear it through the grapevine, I don't want you to be pissed off at me cause I waited till last minute to tell you, and am telling you now to save my ass...

3. If you look back two years ago, we were supposed to play at the Centaur. How a show that won two awards, cleaned up the city playing 5 different venues and selling out all 13 shows didn't make it to that year's wild side festival is still an X-file to me. And how it got in this year - the sequel (no comment) is as unexplained as how breathing into a paper bag can cure hiccups. (Looking for an obscure phenomena, but am at a loss for words...)

SO TO RECAP:
1) I didn't mean = I meant to be a bitch and rain on your parade
2)My sequel to the play you wrote is
3) getting the glory that the first one SHOULD have received BUT ISN'T.
4) ciao bella = see ya sucker!

ACT 2

My Reply:

December 1, 2006 11:16 AM
Yes P, we definitely need to talk. And in terms of the play at the centaur in January, you are not talking about the original SALC I gather, because I would assume you would have contacted me already for rehearsals. There are some details we must iron out.


Her reply:
No it is Salc part two (1) and yes we would have contacted you for rehearsals (2), we could have used for this one as well (3), but you weren't available because of your mother (4). How is she by the way?(5)

Translation:

1) its the sequel to the play - the one that we re-used most of your jokes from...
2) we could have, but consciously made a decision not to
3) ahh - the sick mother - a good excuse not to contact somebody
4) and oops, sorry for not contacting you sooner - before I rained on your parade, and by the way, to save face, I'll ask how your mother is so I won't seem like a real bitch...

Offstage
- the sound of screams and items of value and glass being smashed to smithereens.
My irate, yet perfectly honest and rightfully upset and insulted retort is as follows:

So P, what's up with this "co-writer" thing you've put on the centaur site about the original SALC? That’s news to me - since when did my 'written by" change to co-writer, and why was I not informed? I guess you're just adding more rain on my parade by posting another link via your PDF on the Wildside Festival site which says the same thing... Funny, cause the last time I checked here and here it still said "written by "...
Can you please explain that to me?

And as ready as I tried to be in braving the harlot gauntlet, I was not ready for this:

Her response.
K, as you may recall when we were doing the show, A and I approached you regarding the credits for writing(1). We believed then (2) and still do now, that it was a collaborative effort (3) Even if you did most of the main writing(4**) if you did most of the main writing. We gave you ideas, plots, scenes, helped you put the scenes in order, even wrote specific dialogue in scenes (5), and then I was the main editor (5), working with you and/or A to get the script from 70 pages down to 30,(6) which also involved some rewrites for dialogue and voiceovers.

However, at the time, because of your reactions when we approached you (7), we felt that for the good of the show(8), we would give you the full credit.(9)

Unfortunately, I don't think we will be able to see eye to eye on this (10) and I am sorry that this is upsetting you (11). But we feel we are giving credit where credit is due. (12)

P & A

translation:
1) even though you wrote it, you didn't really write it...

2) we knew from the beginning, and not telling you from the beginning

3) see later definition/duties of Director, and producer

4) A blatant admission to the fact that I did do most of the writing

5) it's your story - you give a writer ideas to write ! That's how working with a screenwriter/playwright works!!!

6) Slice and dice cold detached chop and toss - you didn't write it, so why should you care!?

7) reference to their asking for "co-editing credit" and my reaction - then see definitions of director and producer...

8) didn't want everybody to hate us because they knew that you were in the right and we were in the wrong (and oh, of course, our self-interest above all)

9) And we did it through clenched teeth - you whiny miserable playwright bitch.

10) face it woman, it's us against you

11) we don't really give a flying fuck if this is upsetting you, but we will do it anyway...

12) We want to have it all - be the director, producer and main actors
AND, oh yea, WRITERS AS WELL!!

INTERMISSION

ACT 3

I figured it's about time that these girls get a lesson in the real world of show business

P,
Have you ever read the real definitions of what a real director's duties are? The way you and your partner are acting, I would guess not... For your information, these are taken from the Internet Movie Databasehttp://imdb.com/Glossary/ and more information can be found here...
http://www.artsalive.ca/en/eth/playwright
http://www.artsalive.ca/en/eth/director/

Before pulling rank on me, I think you should inform yourself as to who does what. I guess in your world, protocol does not apply. And by the way - we had agreed that the final script we entered into the fringe was "written by " and then included "edited by me, you and her" on your request. Sorry my dear, I don't remember seeing you writing 18 hours a day, all day, every day for a month. And besides, if it weren't for my script, and my idea that the girls come to Montréal, you would not be where you are right now - there would have not been a smash success, or a sequel for that matter. And fact remains fact - you can't do much without a great script or the foundation of it. You should familiarize yourself with these definitions before you go around saying you wrote or 'co-wrote' the play. Don't you think there is a reason why "director" and "producer' are always the first in the credits? And why don't I see you taking your name into "costume design co designed by", ""co- choreographed by". Try running that one by la danseuse. I'm sure she'd be thrilled....

I don't see why not - If you did it for the writer, well hell, you should do it for everything else you had your hands in. According to your kind of logic, this should make sense...

Director: The principal creative artist on a movie set.
A director is usually (but not always) the driving artistic source behind the filming process, and communicates to actors the way that he/she would like a particular scene played. A director's duties might also include casting, script editing, shot selection, shot composition, and editing. Typically, a director has complete artistic control over all aspects of the movie, but it is not uncommon for the director to be bound by agreements with either a producer or a studio. In some large productions, a director will delegate less important scenes to a second unit.

Producer: The chief of staff of a movie production in all matters save the creative efforts of the director, who is head of the line. A producer is responsible for raising funding, hiring key personnel, and arranging for distributors. See also associate producer, co-producer, executive producer, line producer, Producer's Guild of America. Writer:A general term for someone who creates a written work, be it a novel, script, screenplay, or teleplay. See also Writers Guild of America.

Playwrights create scripts. Like other literary artists, playwrights tell stories through the words and actions of characters. While the work of the playwright can stand on its own as literature, its potential is fully realized only when the skills of all the other theatre artists combine to transform the script into a production of a play. While most playwrights, like most writers, work alone, sometimes they share the task of script creation with actors and directors in a process known as collective creation. Here everyone takes a hand in researching the story idea and developing the script. But because the skillful ordering and re-creation of events is central to the playwright’s art, the final task of shaping the raw material into a coherent and effective play/script will normally fall to the playwright.

So those are industry standards.

I'm sure I can find other real professionals in the business that would be more than happy to back up these facts, and my rightful credit on the script.

I figured that this pretty much states shit in black and white - but I forgot - reason and logic go out the window in their "me" centered universe...

K, thank you for the information, and this is taken from it" But because the skillful ordering (I was up with you till 5 in the morning doing this) and re-creation of events is central to the playwright’s art, the final task of shaping the raw material into a coherent and effective play/script will normally fall to the playwright."

I played a huge hand in the skillful ordering , and the final task of shaping the raw material was done by all 3 of us. Also, before we met you A and I discussed several different scenarios about doing a play on SALC and one of HER ideas was to have the girls come to Montreal, I felt differently, we therefore decided to find someone to come in and write for us. You had the same idea as A, which suited her just fine. I conceded. K, good luck in your future endeavors.

This is all that I will communicate on this matter. P


What does all of this mean - in not so veiled terms?
A big FUCK YOU is what she means.

ASIDE

Sure, I was a little bit emotional in my response, (I’m not blaming PMS) and I was perhaps too emotionally attached to the play, but at the same time, SALC was my final hope and prayer to a springboard to my career. I wasn't asking for much. Just a fucken writing credit - is that so much to ask? Must you NEED that much attention and soak up all that fame like pork fat on a slice of rye bread!?

I guess so.

And it's a sad day in TV sequel land because with my writing smarts, their acting experience, and our fantastic comedic timing and chemistry, we could have created our own next "Sex and the City".

The end (or is it?)

More verbal diarrhea

this spam crap is getting kind of funny.

I will stitch together some of this stuff over the holidays

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a 75 mg slide

I'm going onto 75 mg today - from yesterday's 112mg of Effexxor, and I'm starting to feel the effects.

There is the agitation, increased appetite, sleeplessness - night sweats, vivid dreams, shakes and depression.

I can feel the apathy set in again, often finding my brows furrowed as I sit typing at my desk, trying to remember to do the yoga lion face pose.

Mouth open wide, tongue out, eyelids UP!

lids are lips are curling down, perhaps to keep me grounded somehow.
I don’t know anymore.



I'm feeling horribly betrayed and wish I could just pound the hell out of those women, but I'm exhausted all the time now. My Popsicle stick legs could barely carry me up the hill this morning as my icicle tip fingers tried to rub away the cold on my knees.


We are supposed to go to a party tonight - work party - always fun...

Must go back home and change.
Must go back home and leave ms. effexxor-less behind.


I hate the holidays...

The biggest kick in the face...

Well, so much for things coming full circle...

Last year, at this time, I was approached to write a sequel of sex and the city.

I did - put it under my hat and almost overnight - and last summer I came up with a premise so funny, we sold out 13 out of 13 shows everywhere we played.

And now I'm getting kicked in the face.

Not only are the girls* going to be putting the sad sequel to the spoof on again, they have re-used 95% of my jokes, took the same premise of the girls in Montreal, they are going to be playing at the Centaur (montreal's theater venue) in January.

So the fame and buzz will be about them, for something I started.


AND THAT"S NOT IT!


I am marked as "co-writer"

co-written by....

I almost ripped my eyes out.

And they are not saying anything, except one of them said in response to my good news about my cover shot:

congratulations!
Great Job

I don't mean to rain on your parade, but we are going to be playing at the centaur in January...


You fucken bitch.

Of course you meant to rain on my parade! Why else would you say that for?!?

I am fuming.
I can think of only one other time I have felt this betrayed.

But that's another story.

If they want to be douchebags about this - then get ready girls.

the claws are coming out....




*i use that term loosley - because what I have to really say would be too profane to write on this blog...

Re: Question

more delightful spam -a -lam!



Re: Question

Which cougar go michele

One has to wonder if Limbaugh continues to self-inflate that ego in order to gai...

retrieval

Re: The section

That go procedure

Nor does visiting the country transform someone into an expert.

whose name and Let me, for he may establish my that thou plucked

or cotton

Re: And office

The space you are trying to view might not exist or access to it may be restrict...

and on his my cause their brethren and more

irregularly onwards

You okay