What Your Dog is Thinking While You're in the Store.

When he’s coming out?

When he’s coming out?

When he’s coming out?

When he’s coming out?

When he’s coming out?

When he’s coming out?

Is that him? No.  When he’s coming out?

When he’s coming out?

I smell bacon.

When he’s coming out?

Grampa's Dead, Pass the Mustard

Written in 2002

Something about turning 30 makes me muse about the possibility of past lives.  It's probably due to my ridiculous fear of perishing.  I am terrified that I am going to be snatched up by the grim reaper before it's my time, especially when I feel that there are so  many things I still want to do.  And that is just it.  I never stop.  Living in NYC isn’t helping. My life is: wake up, check my email, make phone calls, run to the subway, grumble to myself at the people that are walking too slowly, go to a job, a meeting, an audition, call my answering machine, return phone calls, make more appointments, go to the gym, run home, check my machine again, and send more emails.   Then, go out again to have a rehearsal, perform in a show, meet a pal, run home, watch “Friends” and go to bed.  This just isn’t doing it for me.  And the fact that I have no belief in any sort of God makes the prospect of death all the more terrifying.

My last real attempt to connect with the “all powerful” was at Sunday school when I was 5 and we were asked to create our version of God out of various household products; A Kleenex or cereal box for the body, paper towel rolls for the arms and so on.  When I had finished painting and adorning my God, the teacher asked me where I would like to put him.  I turned abruptly and said “He’s a woman”.  25 years later, life has started to feel unimportant.  So when my friend gave me a book on past lives, I devour it and suddenly feel a sense of ease.  If I know there could be another life ahead, I might not feel so afraid of this one ending.

Making Out With Nature

A few months ago, I decided to go on a date…with Nature. People kept on saying we would hit it off. Of course, I had seen Nature around but hadn’t felt the attraction and never really considered getting seriously involved. As a native New York City girl, I’d had more experience with concrete than caterpillars so I was a little nervous about the rendez vous. You see, me and the city, we got along great. It had this energy that could sweep me off my feet in an instant. I always knew where I stood. And if I didn’t, I could just look up at the street signs. Nature, on the other hand, seemed a bit unpredictable and more difficult to read. Plus, from what I had heard, there was a chance for things to get kind of messy. However having recently ended a long term relationship with Manhattan and relocating to Seattle where 87% of the population seemed to be hikers, I realized I needed to get on the proverbial bus.