Ice Cream Trucks...

Sitting on my mother's patio the other day, draggin on a cig, watching the pug move her dish around to get the last little nibblets of her dinner, I heard an Ice Cream Truck. I didnt even know they were still around! As I sat there listening to the awful twang of the broken down melody, flashes of my childhood filled my mind.
The ice cream truck was a big deal here in my neighborhood. When I grew up here, the block was filled with children - all of us around the same age. We'd play until the street lights came on. We played baseball in the street, built forts in the Orange Grove (Before it was torn down for condos), we hiked to a place in there we liked to call "Skull Rock" (a random rock formation in the orange grove that looked like a skull face), we played hide and go seek, we played and we played and we fought and we laughed and we were kids. When the sound of the ice cream truck would fill the air - whatever we were doing we'd stop - bolt for our houses - blast in the door screaming for said parent to give us a quarter or two for the ice cream man. If we hadn't been little assholes that day we'd get our change. We'd then bolt back out the house and stumble over each other to get to the ice cream man. Big sticks, ice cream sandwiches, candy, toys - trying to decide which to get was the biggest decision we'd have to make that day. After about 20 minutes of about 10-15 kids making there purchases we'd all sit around and eat our goodies - multiple colors of sugar coated whatever covering our faces. Then back to play.
This made me miss childhood so much. Do you remember when you were a kid? Everything was so easy. For me anyway I miss the time before I turned 12. 12 was my turning point. The year I lost my innocence. The year I started growing up. The year I started realizing what reality had in store. But before that. I miss it. I miss it so much. No job worries, no responsibilities. Just fun. We all played together - no races, religions, judgements. We'd scrape our knees and mom would pour bactine on it and blow away the pain. We liked school - there was always something new. We colored. We ran. We'd lay on the warm grass and stare up at the sky pointing out animals in the puffy clouds. We had slip & slides in the summer. My brother and would climb on the roof. We'd do flips and stunts on the playgrounds at the parks. We founds bugs and made little homes for them and would horrify our parents when they'd find them. We played with our pets - they were one of us you know. We had friends over and we'd play with barbies or strawberry shortcakes or She-Ra's or my little ponies. My brother and I would ride our bmx bikes and learned tricks. We skated. We had big wheels. On the 4th of July's we'd have a neighborhood BBQ with fireworks and food and everyone together. My brother and I would stand on our lawn holding our ears when the fireworks were being shot off. Christmas time the neighbors would exchange cookies and cakes and goodies. My one neighbor would always give us homemade tamales. We climbed tress. I helped my dad when he'd work on the yard. We were kids.
It yanked at my heart strings a bit. All these memories flooding back then realizing I'm at a point in my life I never thought I'd be at. I did get tamales at Xmas. God love them, but thats it. No more kids, no more playing. The condos loom over and complain if people are too loud. No more orange grove - they keep building more over it. Most of my neighborhood playmates are now married with children of thier own. Some happy and successfull some struggling like I am. Its hard to be back home. Its hard to have given up my independance. Its hard to have a very uncertain future. I still have my good days and bad days. To Mr. Anonoymous - I do volunteer and I do know how fortunate I am, I'll never take for granted the fact that I have a wonderful mother and a place to go. But still - its hard. I'm turning 33 next month. I miss being a kid. Oh how I miss being a kid!

Geeking out...

Yup.

I'm a huge fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Series. I've watched the entire thing probably about 4 times, and now being moved home and unemployed I find myself on my more downer days losing myself in the fantasty that is Buffy. I'm watching all the commentary this time around and the special features and everything. I'm almost done with Season 3. (For the 5th time). I cant help it. I'm admitting it here because I can. This is my little outlet. Yes I'm a huge geek. The show is so well written. It has everything I love. Horror - including fantastic monsters. Humor - Joss is one of the best writers out there. Love - rewatching the Buffy/Angel relationship has brought me to tears, many times. Writing - its wonderful how Joss ties in horror with the every day life, the stories are fantastic and only get better each season. I'm looking foward to Season 4 which has my favorite episode ever - Hush. The actors are delightful and all play thier parts so well. Plus I also love to see hot chicks kickin ass. Yes. This is my geek moment. I will happily admit that I fucking love this series. It makes me laugh and cry and appreciate its brilliance. This blog is also possibly a warning...I may blog further on this series...I do have alot of time on my hands lately....

Stomp...

I saw Stomp for the 4th time last nite with the fam. They were fantastic!
When I saw them for the 1st time, years ago, I fell in love. We all have that one dream right? I wanted to be a member of Stomp. They have everything I love - Dance. Percussion. Comedy. Energetic. I watched them in amazement thinking to myself "I can totally do this! This is me! I can see myself up there rockin it!"
I played drums for 3 years. I've always had an ear for music - especially percussion. I know rhythm and I know it well. I've always loved to dance. I'm also a huge goofball, so comedy comes natural for me.
For fun I looked up auditions. Sadly I realized my little pipe dream of joining the Stomp crew would never happen. You needed so many years of Tap (I have none). I was too old. There were many other things I was just not experienced to do. I accepted my fate but have tried to catch them perform whenever I can. My fam loves them too. We're a family of musicians and music lovers and dance lovers so of course we always have a ball.
They did my favorite part - the performers hanging from the wall of stuff (Pots, pans, trashcans, etc) and swing back and forth on the ropes banging away in perfect rhythm. I love when thier loud. I love when they go off on the bigger noise makers and of course I love the finale when they all come out with trash cans and lids and trade off and bounce around like kids on speed.
Last nite they didnt do the "key" bit, but they had a new thing - inner tubes. I love watching the new shit they come up with. They did the zippo bit, the bag of random crap bit, the sinks, the folding chairs, buckets, tap numbers using only thier bodies and more.
Dad and I bounced in our seats to the rhythm, mom giggled the whole time and my bro (his 1st time seeing them live) kept leaning forward in his seat in amazement.
They got a standing ovation - they well deserved it. I dreamed last nite again my lil pipe dream of being a Stomp performer and woke up so sad it was a dream.
Dammit I love those kats!!!!

2009 Begins...

Well I'm off to a bit of a rocky start.....
New Years Eve was fab, until later in the nite...
The boy and I went to the Bistro NYE event, drank a plenty, ate amazing food, visited with the regulars and listened to jazz. We tried to be good kids and called a cab to pick us up after getting a ride from - yep - mom. It was kinda funny... 2 hours later...no cab. Robert gave us a lift home god love him, but at this point we were tired and sober. I woke up 2 hours later thinking maybe I had drank a bit too much but then realized what it was....Yup - brought in the New Year with the horrid stomach flu thats going around. I would not wish this on my worst enemy. I had to call out of my last rehearsal before my show opening and wasnt able to eat until the next day. Of course that Friday I could only eat toast and a bit of applesauce so lets just say my opening night was interesting. I was told I was fab, and couldnt even tell I was weaker then a newborn kitten. People eithier lied or I'm a brilliant actress. It took me the whole weekend to recover and really feel myself again.
So my show is up and running. Depsite the not so pleasant rehearsal process - it seems the show's a hit so far. We've had one fab review come out (I of course was not faboo according to the dude, but was good enuff.) Whatever. At this point I've somewhat written this show off. People seemed to dig it last weekend, lets hope it goes well - 4 weekends to go.
OP has had me come in random times to help with the close out process. Basically I'm just processing all the "ticket donations". But today when I was there I realized I'm done. Its not worth the pay (It gets deducted out of unemployment so its not like extra money), its freezing because the place is pretty much closed down, its bare (all the shit has been moved, tossed, whatever), and everyone else has moved on. Working in that giant building by myself this morning - bundled up as if prepared for a snowstorm - just wasnt right. They can find someone else to do that crap. I dont owe them shit anymore. I lost my job of 10 years - no severance - nothing. Bite me.
Plus - I need to concentrate on moving forward. Sadly this has become quite the challenge. I cant find a job. I specialize in non-profits - I like working in non-profits - I like that I'm working at a company that's doing something for the community. Non-profits are not hiring. I have good days and bad days.
Good days go as followed: "I will find a great job I love!" "I will get out of debt, living home and move into a faboo new place!" "I'm an artist!" "I'm going to get some fantastic acting gigs in the meantime!" "I'm goin to help mom get organized!" "It'll all work out!"
Bad days go like this: "I'm never going to find a job" "I cant beleive I'm turning 33 next month and I'm living at home with my mother in a fucking tiny bedroom". "I cant act for shit - why the hell did I decide to be an artist anyway!!! I'm so fucking stupid!" "I cant organize mom - its just too overwhelming" "I'm fat" Then of course many tears, and cursing and sobs follow.
I'm fighting my ass off to be positive. I want a job I love. I want to succeed as an artists. I want to take care of myself - physically and emotionally. I want to move out into an adorable little pad with just me and my cats. I want to have a successfull relationship in which I feel loved and wanted. I want to just be fucking happy. Call them resolutions. Call them goals. Call them whatever. I call them absolutley fucking nessasary. I have to get out of this rut. I have to succeed. I have to or I'm going to lose my godamn mind.
2009 is going to be it dammit! For everyone!