Hiding out in the nine to five, holding on, barley alive..
I wish you could save me.
These city streets always seem so cold, this glass and steel never feels like home
I picture you at my window. I want to fly away.
I want to go back to the time when the only pain in our lives, was the kind that aches in your side when you laugh. Drifting like clouds in the sky, before the world lost it’s shine,
Back the back roads and butterflies.
*Peeling back the layers of the passing days, I can almost see the image of your face… snapshot memory, reaching out through time and space.Was that a lifetime ago?*
I wear a mask so no one knows that I am not just what they suppose.
Could the mask be falling?
I fight the tears as I turn away and go back to the life that I live today but I know you’ll be waiting…
I’ll see you again some day.
Then I can go back to the time when the only pain in our lives was the kind that aches in your side when you laugh. Drifting like clouds in the sky, before the word lost it’s shine,
I almost didn’t write this post – because I don’t think it’s a very interesting topic. I think we could spend time talking about so many other aspects of the acting business, the craft of being an actor, and… good God – about a million other interesting things besides this.
But I have my panties in a twist now – so I am going to write about it.
It is disgusting to me that the majority of our discussions around female actresses center around three things:
Their fashion sense
Whether they are aging gracefully – or not
When did the world become a Middle School Locker room?
I am never knocking my skinny sisters – you go girls – you do you – but why why why why do I read endless attacks on actresses who are NOT super thin? Why?
I love food. I love the way it tastes, I love the way it smells and I love the way it comforts me when I am feeling at my lowest. I never really thought I had a food addiction growing up, I always just thought I REALLY LOVED food and I am good at eating it so why not eat. Slowly over the years it began to become a habit. I used food as a revenge method for when people did me wrong in my life. I used it as a comfort when I felt alone and left behind by friends or hurt by those I loved. I used it as a reward for achieving something amazing or accomplishing something in my life. It had become a best friend, almost as if it was a part of my everyday surroundings as well as…
“When her pencil touched the paper she knew she had found her true calling.”
Writing letters has always been a safe haven for me. Which is one of the reasons why I love writing so much. Words can sound so beautiful when placed together in the right way. During the holidays I hand out random cards to people in stores and on the streets. Each with a little note telling them to have a beautiful day or how special they are. A random act of kindness and a smile can go a long way I have learned. I write them all the time, to people who deserve such beautiful melodies of letters and to those who don’t.
I wasn’t perfect growing up. I didn’t make the right choices or hang with the right people. I was always used. It wasn’t like I wanted to find these people, they just happened…
I was sitting in a crowded doctor’s office waiting room on September 11, 2001. The only TV in the room was playing a medical product advertisement.
Any other day I would have been at work with my friends and, most importantly, my husband of two years. People teased us about being together 24/7, how it would drive us apart. We loved it.
The first inkling I had that something was wrong was hearing the muffled, yet panicked, voices of the ladies at the front desk. Then I heard a man’s voice saying, “they need to know!” Right then, I was called back to X-ray.
Still clueless as to the horror that was unfolding, I followed my tech to the table. I noticed she was choking back tears. When she explained to me what had just happened we both broke down in tears and hugged each other. The first of many such shared emotional connections on that day, as it turned out.
I had a cell phone for “emergencies” that was, ironically, sitting on my kitchen table at home. All I could think of was calling my children! When I finally left the doctor’s office the 15 minute drive to work seemed endless. The radio was full of a chaotic mix of information and conjecture all being reported by tearful broadcasters trying hard to keep their voices steady. It was all so surreal!
When I finally got to work I immediately collapsed into my husband’s arms.
I remember the shock. I remember the ice water in my veins when I watched the video, over, and over again. I remember finally calling my children just to hear their voices. I remember the emptiness when we ran out of tears.
I remember everything….
Where were you? #NeverForget9/11