Happy Holidays from Hollywood!

"Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!"



Any minute now...

photo by Rosie Sennett

Annual Mileage

I spent the holiest day of the year contemplating my life while driving to the dealership to get my 5,000 mile tune-up. It had been 316 days since I "moved" to L.A. In quotes because I've been in the Jet Blue NeverNeverLand of bicoastal limbo for most of those moons.

All the milestones of Los Angeles - getting a car, an apartment, a writing gig - didn't wed me to this place like I thought they would. Then I thought "Once my girlfriend and cat join me out West, THEN I'll really be here." But packing up my NYC apartment to sublet two weeks ago was a terribly final act. Now each trip East will be a visit, not to "Home." The day we left with packed bags felt like the true Yom Kippur. I surveyed the eerily empty space and thought of the loved ones lost, the loved ones ill, the loved ones far away and the amends I need to make. During the High Holy Days I write up a list, New Year's resolutions of sorts. This year I scribbled mine, behind schedule, while sitting in Toyota of Orange's service waiting room.

I began 5768 with family and the big move, only to fall down en route to an important meeting and be whisked away in an ambulance. I'm not a fan of hospitals, but at least nothing was broken and I got a nifty pair of crutches that my sweetie insisted I actually use.

Immobile on the couch, I got a chance to catch up on Tivo and contemplate being inscribed in the Book of Life for the coming year. Mostly, I just prayed that my ailing friends and family recover and return to life in all senses. And that no more of my beloved pets would perish in the near future. It's been a bumpy 5,000+ miles.

You know what was at the end of this stormy Yom Kippur? A freakin' rainbow over the 101. Now THAT'S the way to start off the year right.

Hi Diddle Dee, An Actor's Life For Me?

It's happened again. This performing thing. Since virtually all theater geeks start out on the stage, and I'm a theater geek (Broadway Musical Theater Geek, no less), it seems inevitable that I'd wind up singing (well, lip-syncing) and dancing (yes, me dancing) in a musical. It's not unprecedented, but certainly surprising, given that I moved to L.A. to write films, that I'd be playing Iceman (Val Kilmer - that's me on the left, a little more butch than usual) in a short musical spoof of TOP GUN. It'll be a trailer for the Seattle Lesbian & Gay Film Festival, directed by David Quantic and scored & choreographed by a gaggle of talented guys. It's truly a hoot. No doubt inspired by this gay recut of the original TOP GUN's trailer here...

This week I've been editing clips of my lovely and talented gf for her reel, but it occurs to me, that I could probably string together a few hysterical bits for my reel, if I had one. And this would now be the featured clip, as I'm one of the "stars." OK, writing that just makes me crack up. I'm sure I was like the 4th or 5th choice, considering I'm uncoordinated and there is quite a lot of dancing going on - behind me, to make me look good. So nice of those very talented and trained triple threats to back a ham like me.

As I told the director, I'm just happy to support queer film, esp anything musical. I haven't been such a goof since... since... playing an uncoordinated dancing dyke in LESBIANS: the music video.

How appropriate that I worked at NewFest, then Outfest, and will be seen onscreen at Seattle L&G FF. I'm just doing the queer film circuit again, in a manner of speaking. I'll post screening/viewing info when it becomes available.

Alumni

Outfest 2006 Screenwriting Lab Fellows (minus Luther Mace) reunited.
(Seb, Dasha, Sam & Isaac)

In the past 2 weeks I've received invites to my 15th college reunion, 20th high school reunion and Peace Child 25th reunion. That means I've lived a lot, to be tapped for so many great adventures' legacies. But a shorter, sweeter reunion happened yesterday: 1 year ago 5 writers/filmmakers gathered at the Chateau Marmont with 5 mentors and a gaggle of talented and wisened folks to make our scripts better. 4 of the 5 fellows showed up to a public reading of one of those scripts, and a chat & chew following. I'm proud to be an alumni of all.

Tradition, er... Subscription!

Yes, I am devastated to have given up my decade-long New York Liberty season subscription upon my move to Los Angeles this year.
Yes, I Tivo all their televised games on NBA TV.
Yes, I wore my Liberty jersey to the Staples Center tonight to root them on in the midst of some annoyed Sparks fans (and some supportive unaffiliated friends).
Yes, I am very proud of the 80 to 68 win they pulled off on this Western road trip.
Yes, I am actually considering getting a Sparks subscription to get my bball fix. "Sounds crazy, no? But in this little town of Anatev - I mean, LA. - you might say everyone of us is a fan of the WNBA, trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple game without breaking her bank. It isn't easy. You may ask: Why do we keep going if it's so poorly attended? We go because women's basketball is our own. And how do we keep to our budget? That I can tell you in one word: Subscription!"

Street Legal

I just passed the CA written driver's test. And registered to vote in CA. And registered to donate my organs and tissue should the whole driving and voting in the Golden State thing turn tragic. I have been dreading this day, getting a hole punched through my beloved NY state driver's license, invalidating my Eastern credentials. I'm only slightly heartened by the fact that the CA state reptile is the desert tortoise (gopherus agassizi), easing my transition by way of fond turtle memories of Esmerelda. Although most folks drive hare-like, here...

Q-Me Con 2007

I had a great time as a panelist @ the inaugural Queer Media Conference in NYC last year. Q-Me Con seems to have followed me to L.A. this year, and so I'll welcome it to the West Coast as a fellow transplant and be a moderator. Come watch/hear/cheer me as I sling questions to well-qualified queer panelists.

See you there...!

From Comic Books to Pitching Scripts: Insider Tips on Creating and Selling Queer Written Work
Saturday, April 14, 2007 - 3:45-5pm
Inside Track  - Davidson/Valentini Theatre
The Village at Ed Gould Plaza
1125 N. McCadden Place
Los Angeles, CA  90038

With
the explosion of original queer content currently hitting the air
waves, the silver screens, the book stores and the broadband pipelines
-- how can queer content creators continue to forge ahead with
exploring the complex lives and experiences of queer characters? Join a
varied panel of noted writers, as they share success stories, delve
into the obstacles content creators face, explore the pressures of
accurate LGBTQ representation and share their thoughts on the future of
original queer content.

Panelists
Andrew Barrett, Staff Writer, Showtime’s "Sleeper Cell"
Q. Allan Brocka, Writer/Director, "Boy Culture" and "Eating Out;" Creator, Logo's "Rick & Steve the Happiest Gay Couple in all the World"
Alex Kondracke, Writer, "The L Word"
Eric Orner, Creator, “The Mostly Unfabulous Social Life of Ethan Green”
Dasha Snyder, (moderator) Writer/Producer; Contributor, AfterEllen.com & Velvetpark Magazine
Daniel Vaillancourt, Co-Vice Chair, Gay & Lesbian Writers Committee, WGA America West

When it rains...

It's been a rough week+.
- My beloved theater professor Joe Patenaude died suddenly, far too young. Joe made me show up for my life and my art, no excuses, all while making me smile.
- My Great Uncle Sidney died, after a long loving life. I wish I had had the priveledge of knowing him better.
- My oldest cat is now seriously ill. I fear a repeat of my turtle's demise from a broken heart due to a far-away Mommy.
- My Sweetie's having a tough stint at school. I wish I was there to hold her hand in person.
- My health's been put the test. But when isn't it?
And I'm on the other side of the country.

Good things come in torrents, too. I'm just in the middle of a terrible downpour of the painful kind at the moment. So, you'll forgive me if I haven't found something to love about L.A. this week. I'll get back on that track when the mourning is over.

Reframing

No, the pic's not sideways. I am. View of life from my couch, legs up, back twisted from moving to a new apartment. Limited mobility has given me an opportunity to get to know my neighbors and friends better. I'm not a fan of leaning on others too much, but when I literally need to lean on them, they've been here for the most part. Laid up in L.A. is not how I pictured the month of March, but I'm learning to reframe the shot...

Short Shorts

As a member of the shorts screening committee @ NewFest
for 3 years, I fell in love with the short form. Shorts are one of the
reasons I love film festivals, and am addicted to the better offerings
on YouTube.

Just as I LOVE that you can see all the Tony nominated Broadway shows only in NYC, for now the only way to see all the Oscar nominated shorts was to attend a special Academy screening here in L.A., and that's exactly what I did this week. I have now watched every 2007 Academy Award eligible short with my own two eyes, in plush seats at industry theaters. [Now you, too, can watch the live action and animated shorts (but not the doc shorts) on iTunes from the comfort of your own computer, for a small fee.] So, now I can authoritatively give my completely biased opinion on these 3 categories:

Live Action Short - I'm rooting for "The Saviour"
Animated Short - I really liked "The Danish Poet," but I've got to go with "Maestro"
Documentary Short - I enjoyed them all, but even my unbiased opinion would have to be for "Two Hands" - REALLY!

Watching the doc shorts today as part of IDA's DocuDay, I was struck by how L O N G the majority of the short films actually are. Most butt up against the Academy cut-off of 40 minutes. I'm of the mind that "shorts" should be short; and that's the exact sentiment Nathaniel Kahn parsed in the Q&A following the screening after an audience member suggested that perhaps the film was a little too concise. I think the film's brevity, clocking in at 17 minutes, is one of its strengths. In fact, it's on the long side for festivals, which is the yardstick by which I'm most familiar and comfortable.

I vote for simplicity & craft. Let's hope the Academy voters did, too.
I'm not wishing "break a leg" anymore (or even crossing fingers), since Leon had to break his hand and cross his digits, essentially, to set this all in motion. Instead:
(good vibes)~~~~~~[Two Hands]~~~~~~(good vibes)

Only a few more hours until the opening of the envelope; And the winner is... ;-)

#3

In my quest to find things to love about L.A., I can now add The Griddle Cafe. That makes 3 things so far (Cinerama Dome & Yoga being 1 & 2), for an average of 1 new thing to love per month. I think that's an awful pace, so I'm determined to seek out one new thing to love (or at least like or enjoy) per week. I have a whole list of places to try from my friend Stacey, and am compiling more. I've gotta' find more things to love here to stave off East-Coast-itis. Contribute to the cause!

Oscar Pose

 

I was all set to write about how California-fied I've become since starting Yoga this week, but the true earmarker of Angeleno-cation is that our little film has been nominated for an OSCAR. That's right, "Two Hands" is up for Best Documentary Short at the 79th annual Academy Awards. All I can say is: Bravissimo! That and, maybe this'll help me get a job here?

And, of course: How can I finagle a seat @ the Oscars? Anyone? I already signed up to be a seatfiller, but I'm sure there's several thousand folks ahead of me in line. Oh yeah, and how does a documentary short go about campaigning for a win? Too bad we don't have Harvey Weinstein or Bill Clinton to back us, just some very devoted classical music, Baltimore and Nathaniel Kahn fans who've gotten us this far. I like our pedigree and odds. Is there a special meditation or yoga pose to help me vibrate on the Oscar frequency? You know there's gotta' be one in this town...

Aroma

Simmering Tunisian Eggplant Appetizer, smoky Sundried Tomato & White Bean dip and the aromas of a whole host of other goodies have been wafting through my bungalow for the past few days. That, and the smell of blood (hammered my thumb), sweat (it ain't easy hanging curtains), and tears (did I mention the thumb?) have filled this humble abode in preparation for a little shindig last night. Apparently it smells a lot better here, than in my NYC 'hood at the moment. I hope the stink is gone by the time I'm "wheels down" @ JFK tomorrow night. At least everyone's OK back East, noses crinkled. And my party didn't stink, either...

Plated

Just as my odometer turns over it's first 1,000 miles, on the last day of mail delivery in 2006 (until Weds, actually - R.I.P. Gerald R. Ford), 51 days since the big move, the California DMV bestows upon me the official gift of the road: 2 license plates and registration stickers for my dusty little car (Note to self: check out the $2 car wash place on Santa Monica Blvd...). Now, I may be over my ideal weight, but I've never worn a 5XL; until now, that is. Just looking at that picture takes me back to the late nights of homework ignored to watch "L.A. Law" (not _just_ because it featured the first prime-time lesbian kiss - it was a well-written show before Rosalyn fell down the elevator shaft). You know that iconic opening title sequence kicked-off by the trunk closing shot of a California license plate?

According to IMDB's trivia page, "the license plate in the beginning of the opening credits was during
the first seven seasons mounted on the rear of a Jaguar, but for the
eight and finale season it changed to being mounted on a Bentley
Continental R. The Bentley Continental R was mentioned for several of
the first episodes of the season when Arnie Becker was thinking of
buying one, and finally received one as a gift in episode 3 of the
eighth season." Mine's mounted on a Toyota Yaris Liftback. Can't wait for the opening credits of my first TV show...

Bagels

I'm a bagel snob (H&H rules!), but so homesick for the Big Apple that I took the plunge and bought some of these "New York Style" supermarket bagels. Boy, am I glad I did! They are respectably tasty. It's the little things that comfort...

I must be having L.A. conversion illness. In the same way that I'm incensed when I see a TV show set in NYC, but filmed generically in Toronto, Vancouver or L.A., then thrilled when I recognize actual NYC locations sprinkled throughout; I am now becoming similarly angered/thrilled when I see Los Angeles-set shows with real L.A. locations.

An Angeleno friend advised me to find things to love here that are uniquely Los Angeles. Thing #1: The Cinerama Dome. There's nothing like a big movie musical projected in the round... Many more things to come, I'm sure. I'm taking suggestions!

Attention Must Be Paid

Either I'm paid little to no attention or am the subject of unwanted attention here in L.A.

I went to see a brilliant writer friend perform at Wordamara the other night. It was a spoken-word evening filled with witty, poignant, talented writers and performers. There were a few familiar folks in the audience, and we exchanged pleasantries, but I was struck at how invisible I was to the new people to whom I was introduced. Sure, they didn't know me, but to be literally sitting in between my friend and the "new" people and be talked over - completely and utterly ignored (remember, I have nothing to contribute in terms of job opportunities, gossip or sex as far as they know). They were actually leaning on me to get closer to each other, bitching about whatever literary goings-on needed to be bitched about, as if I was bar stool. No eye contact, no acknowledgment that I was human, or even present, despite the recent introduction. Only the bartender noticed me and my wedged-in status, pouring multitudinous refills of Coke (G-d bless him...). I'm not asking for an instant fawning entourage, but common courtesy might be a little nice. At least don't treat me like furniture, and uncomfortable furniture, at that. As for the show, well, it was quite long and entertaining.

On my way to the launch party for OutFest's 25th Anniversary year at the Egyptian, I got way too much attention from the LASD. That's right; I got pulled over by the cops. Slightly disoriented by the traffic, Xmas lights and the insistent voice on my TomTom One to "Turn Left NOW," I made a left turn on Hollywood Blvd. right in front of an oncoming Sheriff's car. Now, the turn was perfectly legal, just a little close for his comfort. He followed my turn, lights flashing, siren yelping. Oh shit. I pulled to the side of the road, rolled down my window and felt like I was in the middle of a really bad episode of LAPD Blue (if it existed). I handed over my NY Driver's license and confessed that I had been lost, was just following my portable GPS, and was a dumb newly transplanted New Yorker. I like to think that my winning smile, accompanied by my pathetic rendition of the truth (my car's so new it doesn't even have license plates yet), and the fact that I didn't actually do anything illegal, led this imposing man to let me off with a warning.
"You won't do anything this stupid ever again, now will you, M'am?"
"No, sir."

As penance, I paid way too much for parking behind the theater.

Creature Comforts

Creature Comforts. Literal creature comforts. I think if I'd had my pets with me in L.A. for the past 3 weeks, I wouldn't have been so distressed about every little thing that went wrong or was done wrong to me. It's just been a rolling frustration train. The flight back to JFK was 3/4 turbulent. I get back to NYC and try to unwind by seeing a movie w/my sweetie, and instead my mobile phone gets flushed down the toilet @ the theater (yes, I reached in and rescued it, but it's a soggy goner). See? Even in NYC (or on the way to NYC), things go wrong and infuriate. The difference being, I get to come home to my apartment of 12 years, cuddle with my cats and kiss my girlfriend. Instant anti-anxiety pill. Did I mention my meds were stolen by the infamous TSA personel as they handled my bags? So, I'll get another prescription and then a pedicure at my neighborhood nail place where they know my battered feet well... I can let it roll off my back, or feet or cats. You get the point.

The reason for my return East (aside from the need to aleviate extreme withdrawal symptoms)? The screening of "Two Hands," a doc short by Nathaniel Kahn about the remarkable pianist Leon Fleisher. How's this sound for a swanky evening?
1. Private screening of "Two Hands" @ Makor.
2. Triumphant concert by Leon Fleisher @ Avery Fisher Hall.
3. Celebratory dinner with extraordinary people @ Cafe Des Artistes.


Nathaniel Kahn, Leon Fleisher & Katherine Jacobson

I think I can handle whatever L.A. throws at me for the next stretch. I'm Big Apple-fortified for now.

Thanksgiving out West

Sitting here watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV (all 13" of it off of Craig's List) gives me a little reprieve from the West Coast. It brings up giddy memories of watching the inflation of the parade balloons, tethered on the Upper West Side by the AMNH, thousands of kids agog at the nearness of a gigantic Kermit. Me agog, too.

There's Ballet Hispanico - they're on my block on the UWS! There's Sesame Workshop, my former awesome workplace. Big Bird looks a little deflated... My friend Liz Warner used to work the parade every year, putting around in a golf cart up & down the route with dignitaries in tow. Now Liz is here in L.A. as a morning DJ for 103.1 FM, and a friendly presence for me.

I've been in L.A. for 2 weeks, now. I've got an apartment, a car, (most) furniture, food, non-working cable TV and an intermittent internet connection. And a neighbor across the way with a rooster (and attendent chickens) that crows starting around 4am, and then whenever he feels like it after that. My immediate neighbors have all been incredibly nice and helpful and welcoming. I've also got great friends, new and old, who've been looking out for me as I take my first baby steps in the City of Angels.

As I spent the past 3 days in misery and anger on the phone w/Time Warner Cable on my upstairs neighbor's borrowed phone (I've only got my NYC mobile phone, so when I call the L.A. TWC, the message says "It appears that you are calling from a number outside of California, please hang up and try the East Coast number. Click.), on hold for hours, complaining about no-show technichians and their general lack of service, I realize that as flawed as they are on the East Coast, at least they answer the phone in under 30 minutes and show up for appointments. The Angelenos to whom I bemoan this eggregious behavior aren't surprised at all. Every one of them, nonplussed, explains that there really isn't a concept of customer service out here. Oy!

I made the most of my time, while waiting 8am-6pm for technicians everyday, by building furniture, cooking/baking and putting up curtains. Setting up a home here just makes me long for the one that's already set-up back there, and the gorgeous talented redhead who's baking cookies in it. If my internet connection decides to stay mostly "on," I'll video-conference with my sweetie and family, all gathered together in Baltimore. If I can't be with them, at least they can be with each other. I'll be with family friends from synagogue back in Baltimore, who are kindly taking me in. As my new neighbor Guin said "You're a Thanksgiving orphan, huh?"

I know I'll start thinking of this place as home eventually (the comfy new mattress helps), but for now, I'm counting the days - 7 - until I go back to NYC, my adult home. I need my family, my sweetie, my pets, my friends. I need my fill of the East Coast. Withdrawal is a bitch. And I'm thankful for the heartache of it all, and the means to pursue my dreams.

Wrenched

I have the cutest most awesome new car EVER. The dealer called yesterday morning and said my Toyota Yaris in beautiful Bayou Blue had made it off the boat earlier than expected. After a 2 1/2 hour drive (bad rush hour traffic) down to Toyota of Orange, as arranged through my high school friend Zack, I picked up my little piece of automotive heaven. Well worth the hassle! I drove it off the lot with just six miles on the odometer. Six! And, the requesite new car smell, of course. I proudly put the AAA auto emergency pack (complete w/lug wrench) in with the spare tire, too.



Then, while waiting for my vintage loveseat to be delivered, I tinkered away at assembling my new Ikea Hopen bed. I'm pretty handy (& I bought a full tool set w/drill, too), and have had plenty of experience assembling Swedish DIY furniture, but this one took five hours. Five! And my back is completely tweaked from the effort - all that leaning over and balancing wood and metal for hours with a tiny allen wrench in hand... Ouch!

Tomorrow: return unmatching misc. home furnishings and cover at least four windows. Four!

Missing my sister's three kids. Three!

Counting is so much fun. Ah, ah, ah! (ref Sesame and now to bed....)

Packing It In

This is what happens when your furniture eyes are bigger than your convertible stomach. In the NYC-area, Ikea will deliver whatever is in your cart and the big stuff they pull from the warehouse, too. After assuming that LA-area Ikea's operate the same way, I showed up at the home delivery desk, cart filled to brimming, ready to hand over the goods to be delivered with my new bed tomorrow - I was informed that nothing bought in the Marketplace section of the store can be delivered. Ack! This wouldn't have been such as issue if I wasn't driving an aging borrowed Mazda Miata. After a supreme packing job, topped off with copious amounts of twine, convertible top down and TomTom One programmed for Hollywood, I headed very slowly back to my new pad and made it unscathed! I suppose it's just one right of California passage.

Next? Almost have the car...